Feast of Saint Andrew, Apostle

 Lectionary: 684

There is no distinction between Jew and Greek;
the same Lord is Lord of all,
enriching all who call upon him.
For everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.

The distinction of Jew and Greek may be divine by God's decree as the descendants of Abraham are the elect; but it is also one of many artificial differences we humans impose on each other. "Nature" has never recognized it; nor, for that matter, does it care much about many other definitions we create. People have babies, get sick, and die on Christmas, Easter, or Halloween just as they might on any other day. Nature doesn't notice. 

And nature sometimes honors our distinctions. Because poor people live in denser neighborhoods with fewer rooms they suffer the initial assaults of epidemics like Covid 19. However their urban homes -- at least in the United States -- are not so quickly consumed by forest fires or mudslides. In cases like that, Nature prefers to destroy the homes of the wealthier class. 

So long as the Holy Spirit directs the work of the gospel, that enterprise also ignores the caste systems we create. In the Kingdom of God, the poor enjoy equal medical care, education, opportunities for work, and recreation; along with the freedom of worship in the religion of their choice. Saint James, in particular, warns the Church against pandering to the wealthy. 

Today we celebrate the apostle Andrew, and the apostolic church which does not honor the classes, castes, and stratifications of human society. We would announce the Gospel to every human being even as we share the good news with every creature. Not for nothing did Saint Francis preach to the birds and Saint Anthony, to the fish. Our sister Earth awaits with eager expectation the revelation of the children of God; and will be set free from slavery to corruption and share in the glorious freedom of the children of God.

Pope Francis has reminded us of this sacred, apostolic mission in his encyclical, Laudato Si. Brilliantly, he demonstrates that care of the Earth is care of the poor. The same attitudes that waste natural resources waste human beings. From the Vatican's perspective of neutrality, it's not hard to see that warring nations and ideologies consume vast resources in their struggle for dominance. The Darwinian ideology of survival of the fittest ignores universal suffering in its fear of failure and it struggle for dominance. 

The Apostles teach us to love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you. In the love of God we can do no harm to our opponents. Assured of mercy we have no fear of death. If we must maintain a reasonable defense against threats, we are not driven by fear, and our first, second, and last efforts find ways to make peace with them. 

In the real world, rationality finds that reconciliation, atonement, and harmony are more efficient and infinitely more pleasant than conflict. The only just war is within the heart of every person as they learn to believe God's word rather than their anxieties, suspicions, and hysterical conjectures. 

The way forward is clear despite its difficulty and complexity. We must do justice to our neighbor, enemies, and the Earth. 

Monday of the First Week of Advent

 Lectionary: 175

The centurion said in reply, “Lord, I am not worthy to have you enter under my roof; only say the word and my servant will be healed. For I too am a man subject to authority, with soldiers subject to me.

I concelebrated at a Marine's funeral last spring and was invited by the pastor to read this gospel. I applied some drama to the reading, as I supposed there was more to the centurion's reaction than he was willing to say. 

He was literally terrified that Jesus might come to his home. This man who had fought and killed good men in battle, who had sent soldiers on suicidal missions, who had made stupid mistakes and suffered the loss of raw recruits in ugly combat -- could not permit this holy man to enter his home. He could not risk his soldiers seeing him quail before a civilian. The blasphemy of the Christ entering his quarters aroused unspeakable dread in the warrior's heart. 

Jesus saw that. He had visited many homes and he understood the self-consciousness of his hosts. If their invitation had been routine and formal, the kind of thing prosperous people do for important guests from out of town, his actual coming -- his advent -- was overwhelming.

But the centurion's reaction -- contained by a soldier's battle hardened features -- revealed something the Lord had never seen. As he said, “Amen, I say to you, in no one in Israel have I found such faith." 

 The warrior was terrified. We call it fear of the Lord, and believe it is the beginning of wisdom. Jesus called it faith.

Afterward one of the mourners told me she had never heard the story of Jesus and the centurion read that way. She had not heard the Marine's stories of Vietnam.   

As Advent comes to us, are we prepared to welcome it into our homes? Can I be comfortable in such an august presence? When the Lord smiles on me will I receive his gaze and let it penetrate the dark places of guilt, shame, and dread? Am I ready to let them appear in the light where other guests see them? What would it take for me to be ready? 

Not many Veterans of American wars tell stories of Korea, Vietnam, Afghanistan, and Iraq; and most would rather not. Nothing had prepared these young people for what they did, saw, and suffered. Many carried deep spiritual wounds from their upbringing in violent households even before they enlisted, and their traumas were only amplified.

They are us. We don't like to be known too well. We don't want to be reminded. 

Christmas takes the willing and the unwilling back in time to places of joy and contentment; and to places of sorrow, regret, grief, and broken promises. Christmas recapitulates a life for those who welcome his coming. It assures the willing of salvation. 

First Sunday of Advent

Lectionary: 3

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.”

Is it possible for an event to "assault everyone who lives on the face of the earth?" There are billions of people in many different habitats, speaking many languages, worshiping innumerable gods, organized by every form of government from democracy to dictatorship, from scattered farms to isolated villages to megacities. Some are wealthy; most are poor; many are loyal to kin; some prefer kith. Can 7.9 billion people be "perplexed by the roaring of the sea and the waves?"

Two years ago, anyone might have doubted Jesus's apocalyptic claim. 

In late 1967, my indulgent parents sent to the novitiate my Christmas request, a paperback, boxed edition of The Lord of the Rings. I had only heard of it; but, like many other Boomers, I was enchanted by: 

"One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them, One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them.

Beginning the first book in 1937, J.R.R Tolkien described the world at war, as it again would be with the rise of the Japanese and German empires, and the decline of the British, French, and other European empires. After the devastation of the First World War and watching the universal rearmament, an Oxford don could imagine the entire world entangled by another holocaust and capitulating before a single evil empire. 

Fortunately the German and Japanese efforts were foiled. They readopted civilized standards, and the reunited world imagined progress toward representative government, economic equality, universal education, and health care for everyone. Even Communist nations described themselves with democratic words like republic and social.

As 2022 approaches, barely a century after World War I, that golden promise is fading as a new Ring of Power threatens to bind them in darkness. The Internet with its rosy promises can be converted easily to diabolical purposes. It used to be said that a lie can span the globe while the truth is still tying its shoelaces; but the social media move faster than that. 

If there is a new ring to bind them all, it might be QAnon or its kin, which are founded on the lie, "There is no truth, there are only opinions." This conspiratorial notion, as I understand, was first promoted by the American tobacco industry, and copied by Russian news agencies. American smokers want to believe a falsehood; many Russians know better. 

In today's Gospel, Jesus urges his disciples to,

Be vigilant at all times 

and pray that you have the strength 

to escape the tribulations that are imminent... 

We must stand before the Son of Man today in the darkness of conspiracies, distress, and confusion. We can do that because we love the truth and trust the Spirit of Truth which guides us day by day and hour by hour. 

Daily, before we turn on the computer or pick up the smartphone, we should ask for divine wisdom and guidance to make us suspicious of falsehoods and available to the truth. Everyone suffers the limits of their individual horizon; we cannot see beyond it. But God sees far beyond every horizon and will guide us individually and as Church. "We are his people, the sheep of his flock!" We have only to ask.

Advent must remind us of our desperate situation and the promise of salvation. As we pray, fast, and give alms in preparation for the Nativity of the Lord, we pray, "Open my Eyes, Lord. Help me to see." 

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.

Is it too late to remember that Advent is a quiet time of penance, prayer and preparation for the Nativity of the Lord which begins four weeks from today? Many of the best people will "become drowsy from carousing and drunkenness and the anxieties of daily life" long before Christmas. Some will be sick of the whole business. 

In the Collect (pictured on the right) which is recommended for this Saturday, we pray that we might be good citizens of this world as we fix our hearts on the world to come. We have a dual obligation to the Lord and to our neighbors to remember who we are and where we're going. 

Every year we hear the laudable appeal, "Put Christ back into Christmas." But that won't happen unless we put ourselves into prayer, fasting, penance, and serious sacrifices for the poor, which must include our poor planet. It will never be too late to begin caring for the Earth; but the longer we put it off the worse it gets. 

Nor can those who care about faith, religion, justice for the poor, and the Earth make any difference without the investment of the vast majority who do not care. They must be invited; their resistance will only cause that day to catch them by surprise like a trap. (Like we're seeing with the fifth corona virus surge.) 

The prayers, readings, and religious images of Christmas still have resonance for some people. They still like babies. 

What better time to invite our neighbors to come with us to the Advent presentations, discussions and prayers? Seeing our hopeful dedication, some might be willing to share our sorrow for the waste, violence, and indifference of our way of life. Perhaps a few might be ready to confess their sins with us. 

Friday of the Thirty-fourth Week in Ordinary Time

Lectionary: 507

Amen, I say to you, this generation will not pass away until all these things have taken place.
Heaven and earth will pass away, 
but my words will not pass away.”

Even as we reckon with the omens of climate change, the cycle of seasons revolve around us. Autumn passes into winter, and Advent is upon us. Indeed, when that final climactic change occurs and the heavens and earth pass away, the Word of God will remain to gather, reassure, and guide "this generation" into eternity. 

Apparently "this generation" is the Church, the Elect of God. By our count, many generations have passed since Jesus's ascension from Jerusalem, but the Word of God has remained with us. Jerusalem has passed through many hands as the Romans leveled it, the Muslims overran it, the Crusaders captured it, the Muslims took it back, and imperialists of Britain and Germany fought over it. Through it all the Church has remained in the world and, usually, in Jerusalem. 

...my words do not pass away. God's Word is the rock upon which the City of God is founded. 

In my lifetime, which is only a moment in the history of the Church, I recall the upheaval of the Second Vatican Council, followed by the Humani Vitae controversy about birth control. in the United States the Church has seemed adrift as we faced the demographic challenges of upward mobility, immigration, secularization, and downward mobility. 

A generation of children educated in excellent Catholic schools was sent to Vietnam and demoralized by that "rich man's war, poor man's fight." In the meanwhile American bishops reversed their support of the war and returning Veterans found their Church altered, locked against vandals, and unrecognizable. And sometimes hostile to the men and women we'd sent to Vietnam. Many have never returned to the faith of their childhood; it was too attached to the failed promise of America. 

There followed the priest pedophilia scandal and Covid quarantines. How many will return to Sunday and weekday Mass if and when this pandemic ends? 

...my words do not pass away. 

We stay because the Word of God holds us. We stay because we gave our word in Baptism, Eucharist, Marriage, and daily prayer. We are spiritual and religious, and we cannot take our gaze off his precious wounds. 

We may find our fidelity hard to explain to those who left. We find both their smug indifference and their obvious distress hard to fathom. Why are they not grieving the loss of faith as we grieve their absence? 

I find comfort in the company of the saints. If I cannot measure up to their heroic standards, I am nonetheless somewhere on the road with them. And they don't seem to mind my being with them. And, at the same time, I find myself less at home in this world with its polarized politics, hyperventilated entertainment, and all consuming waste. 

...my words do not pass away. Nor does this generation. 

Thanksgiving Day 2021

 Lectionary: 943-947

And now, bless the God of all,
    who has done wondrous things on earth;
Who fosters people’s growth from their mother’s womb,
    and fashions them according to his will!
May he grant you joy of heart
    and may peace abide among you.

Gratitude begins with our being, and the delightful, gratifying realization that none of this is really necessary. Everything is gift; nothing has to be. Only God is necessary, the rest is contingent. 

Therein is our freedom for our only destiny is gratitude, while our path consists of praise, reconciliation, and petition. We may ask whatever we need; for we are not self-sufficient. Only God is sufficient unto himself.

God has created, redeemed, justified, healed, and sanctified us in Jesus Christ freely, without compulsion or necessity, for reasons of God's own goodness. 

Unimaginative cynicism might suppose we are created as an experiment or a lark. Indeed as we look at human engineered climate change and the penalties the Earth will exact in coming decades, we might suppose the human race is an experiment gone badly. And the Genesis story of the Fall might confirm that cynicism. 

But the persistence of grace we have seen in Jesus of Nazareth, and in his martyrs and saints disprove that attitude. Not to mention our joy and gratitude which are renewed each morning. 

Eucharist is gratitude, as are praise, petition, and repentance. In God's own freedom we thank the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit for our being here, for our loved ones, for the food we eat, the clothes we wear, and the roof which shelters us. We thank God for the generous spirit which feeds the hungry, clothes the naked, and shelters the homeless. 

We thank God for our recognizing the threat of climate change and our readiness to make the necessary adjustments. Since we do not have to be here; and we know the Earth managed quite well without us; and finally, that we are charged with husbanding this earthly garden we set to work. 

What should we do? What must we do? Remember the first principle of healing: "Do no harm!" 

And thank God at every step. 

Memorial of Saint Andrew Dũng-Lạc, Priest, and Companions, Martyrs

Lectionary: 505 

You will even be handed over by parents,
brothers, relatives, and friends,
and they will put some of you to death.
You will be hated by all because of my name,
but not a hair on your head will be destroyed.
By your perseverance you will secure your lives.”

Not long ago, most Americans would have found this scenario unimaginable. Who would hand over their parent, brother, sister, child, relative, or friend to death? There's no one like that in my family; it could not happen! 

But the times have changed and polarization has set into the body politic. Many, perhaps all, families are divided between Republican and Democratic camps. They watch different television stations and scan different websites and hear only the echo of their own opinions among their friends and acquaintances. 

Their preferred news sources insist that anyone who disagrees, temporizes, or attempts to understand the other side is evil, unpatriotic, and must be overcome. Failure to overwhelm and neutralize the enemy will certainly spell the end of life as we know it. This cannot happen! 

It's no longer so difficult to imagine neighborhoods divided, parishes rent, and families in internecine war. If I have not yet been turned over to the authorities by loved ones, it may come to that. I might even feel compelled by some madness to betray those I once loved.

Even as the election year began in 1860, few Americans believed a Civil War would erupt over the issue of slavery; only the most radical abolitionists and their opponents were ready to take up arms. Perhaps there is a time for everything under heaven, and even a time for hatred.  

In 2001, many young Americans enlisted and prepared to fight terrorism abroad so that it might never arrive in America. Somehow, terror did an end run around their invasions of Afghanistan and Iraq and swept into the homeland. It transformed news into propaganda, sowing fear, suspicion, distrust, and division into every conversation. The deceptions that had always been a part of hard ball politics now threaten to dismantle democracy.  

In today's gospel, Jesus predicted times like this. He described a crisis in which the gospel itself was the issue. Some announced and lived the Gospel; others violently opposed its proclamation and its practice. 

But in today's polarized environment all sides claim the gospel as they hurl hateful words against each other. The Lord's command to love your enemies has taken on new meaning as the old enemy -- Communism -- has disappeared and we sleep with the enemies in our cities, churches, and homes. 

The Gospel that penetrates joints and marrow discovers the enemies within, which are my own fear, greed, sloth, and pride. They are my own unwillingness to live in the world as it presents itself, preferring the world that might have been, should be, or might become. 

Joseph Kazantzakis, in his novel, The Last Temptation of Christ, described the final agony of the Crucified. Even as he died he remembered the opportunities missed, the wider, easier path to comfort he might have taken. With his last breath he clung to the cross which held him and surrendered to God his Father. 

We his disciples follow. 

Optional Memorial of Saint Clement I, pope and martyr

Lectionary: 504

While some people were speaking about how the temple was adorned with costly stones and votive offerings, Jesus said, “All that you see here– the days will come when there will not be left a stone upon another stone that will not be thrown down.”

As I understand, Israel and the region known as "the fertile crescent" are strewn with the tells, mounds, and ruins of ancient buildings. Walls used to isolate garden plots and keep wandering farm animals pent in are often made of stones from houses, churches, and public buildings. Soldiers, weary of battle, don't mind demolishing undefended buildings. 

The near- and mid-east are ancient lands occupied by long memories. A hundred miles, they say, is a long way, but a hundred years is nothing.
So the disciples understood Jesus's remark about the stones of the temple even as they trembled at their import. In fact some them lived to see Jerusalem's destruction in 70 AD; they remembered what he'd said.
Historic sites have a way of reminding us of our brief sojourn in this world. Archaeologists are continually digging up ancient ruins and piecing together images of ancient life. They pore over ruins and runes and try to understand how those ancient people thought, spoke, worked, sang, danced, ate, slept, loved and hated. 

Sometimes they discover cities like Pompeii that were destroyed in a single day by natural disasters. They also discover villages strewn with human bones, apparently destroyed by enemies in a raid, and never rebuilt. Some surrendered to climate change that had nothing to do with human technology. Viking villagers lived in Greenland for five hundred years before they were forced to return to Europe.
Cities of thousands and civilizations of millions found ways to organize and thrive without knowing Jesus of Nazareth, much less principles of "Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité." And then they disappeared.
Time and history remind us that we don't have to be here. I am amused by those who suppose there must be intelligent life like our own somewhere in the vast universe. If we're here, they must be there! Somewhere! But we're not necessarily here; the Earth does not need human beings; and God does not require our worship. 

We the Church persist because the Word of God endures forever. The Spirit of God will not permit the Earth and its peoples to forget Jesus's life, death, resurrection. 

"I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish. No one can take them out of my hand. My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all, and no one can take them out of the Father’s hand. The Father and I are one.” (John 10:28-30)

Memorial of Saint Cecilia, Virgin and Martyr

 Lectionary: 503

Stay awake! For you do not know when the Son of Man will come.

During these last days of the liturgical year the scriptures remind us of the necessary coming of God's kingdom, and the judgement that must precede it. 

Every Christian knows they stand under judgement, and this is a part of our message to every human being. Our decisions are not just our own; they have consequences that ring through the ages, and we will answer for those consequences. The weight of our freedom and its burden of responsibility would be too much but for the promise of God's mercy. 

The Book of Daniel is an apocalyptic book. It is laden with the assurance of God's sovereign rule of the Earth and all human beings. King Nebuchadnezzar of Babylon cannot imagine the trouble he has brought upon himself, his descendants, and his empire by the destruction of Jerusalem. Nor can he, for that matter, realize that he is acting simply as God's punishing hand against the holy city and its unfaithful people. His theft of the sacred chalices and plates, as small as it seems in the routine looting that follows every victory, is sacrilege; and God will not forget the insult to His holiness.

The Gospel also reminds us of God's all-seeing eye as Jesus watches some wealthy people

putting their offerings into the treasury. If they are donating to the temple, they are also looting it as they carry away the admiration of fools. 

The Gospels warn us not to judge other people; that is God's prerogative. But the Gospels do not deny that we're all under judgement; and, as creatures made in God's image, we do judge others. That fact of human nature should warn anyone -- and the powerful in particular -- that, "You are being judged by One who has the right to do so!" 

The powerful may glare at others as they go about their business, and dare anyone to speak a word against them, but the judgement is being made. As Jesus said in the Gospel of Saint Luke, 

“There is nothing concealed that will not be revealed, nor secret that will not be known. Therefore whatever you have said in the darkness will be heard in the light, and what you have whispered behind closed doors will be proclaimed on the housetops."

We are warned, and we are grateful for the warning. It too is a sign of God's mercy. 

 

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

 Lectionary: 161

,…one like a Son of man received dominion, glory, and kingship; all peoples, nations, and languages serve him. His dominion is an everlasting dominion that shall not be taken away, his kingship shall not be destroyed.

 

That first line above may be the boldest and most extraordinary claim of the Gospel: “…one like a Son of man received dominion, glory, and kingship….

Most people would prefer to worship anything which is not “one like a Son of man;” that is, a fellow human being. Many will surrender their lives to a “superman” in the Nietzschean mold of Hitler, Mussolini, Trump, or Stalin. They might worship power, beauty, or success; fame, good health, or some romantic ideals like democracy, fascism, Nazism, or communism. They might even worship a nation, “nature” or “humanity.” 

But they do not believe a real human being of flesh and blood, "born of a woman," can “be found worthy” of all-consuming love, admiration, or authority.

Indeed, it is rare, as Saint John, the Seer of Patmos, demonstrated in a moment of dramatic tension. First, he described his profound distress:

'Then I saw a mighty angel who proclaimed in a loud voice, “Who is worthy to open the scroll and break its seals?” But no one in heaven or on earth or under the earth was able to open the scroll or to examine it. I shed many tears because no one was found worthy to open the scroll or to examine it.

But the seer’s grief was relieved when “One of the elders said to me, “Do not weep. The lion of the tribe of Judah, the root of David, has triumphed," and he alone was worthy “to open the scroll with its seven seals.”

As Christians we take God at his Word. But every Christian must ponder this mystery and claim it for their own. Everyone must say something like, 

I believe what the Church has taught me about Jesus of Nazareth. He was an innocent, good man who antagonized many people including both government and religious authorities, by healing the sick, raising the dead, teaching the poor, and demonstrating the coming of God's kingdom.

I believe the Church's teaching that this man was arrested and tried by those we would consider legitimate authorities; he was condemned to a shameful death and crucified.

But God raised him up, revealing him as the Only Begotten Son of God, and...

... therefore I believe this man is worthy of my love, trust, sacrifice, worship, and adoration. God has revealed to me through the ministry of his Church that I should love Jesus -- and none other -- with all my heart, soul, mind, and strength.

While it's certainly true that Jesus is God regardless of my opinion and response to him, this is my decision, and will be my witness. 

Saturday of the Thirty-third Week in Ordinary Time

Lectionary: 502

That the dead will rise even Moses made known in the passage about the bush,when he called  ‘Lord’ the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob; and he is not God of the dead, but of the living, for to him all are alive.” 

As I understand, the curious mystery of sexuality, which enabled rapid evolution like never before, also introduced death. Sexual creatures of the plant and animal kingdoms are "programmed" to die, unlike fungus and one-celled creatures who multiply by dividing. There are critters in our guts that are literally billions of years old; so long as their environment is hospitable they flourish. But sexed creatures like you and me get old and die unless something worse happens sooner. So when Jesus says in today's gospel, 

"...those who are deemed worthy to attain to the coming age and to the resurrection of the dead neither marry nor are given in marriage. They can no longer die, for they are like angels..." 

I wonder if he is on to something it's taken scientists two millennia to notice. Sexless angels don't die either! We can have some fun speculating with that nonsense so long as we understand we're not paying attention to the Gospel. 

In any case, we do die and the only questions is how well we do it. If we practice dying to self by daily sacrifices of prayer, time, generosity, patience, and so forth we'll be ready for The Big One when it comes. 

I have known people who lived recklessly, cultivating bad habits and lousy attitudes -- defying death -- and fought rather pathetically against it when it came for them. I have known others who greeted our Sister Death as a fellow servant of Jesus Christ. 

The choice is obvious. The scribes and Sadducees in today's gospel finally admit he is clever and has an answer to their every objection. Will they finally believe in him and follow him to Calvary? 

That is an entirely different question and demands a very different response from idle speculation about fungi, amoeba, and sexual creatures. 

Friday of the Thirty-third Week in Ordinary Time

Dublin Cathedral: column base
illustrating the Corporal Works of Mercy

 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.”

Both readings today invite us to reflect upon the buildings we call churches and our respect for them. The first concern of the Maccabean warriors after expelling the Seleucid rulers and regaining control of their holy city, was to restore and purify the temple with its rituals and resident priests. Even before they cleared the citadel of the last gentile resistance, they removed the desecrated altar and erected a new one from recently excavated stones. 

Jesus recalled that tradition of restoring and purifying the temple and its rites when he stormed into it, a one-man riot, and drove out the merchants. 

It's hard to ignore the implications of these readings today. Attempts to restore some degree of reverence to our sanctuaries, our clothing, and our behavior within the church are often met with sanctimonious cries about inclusiveness, hospitality, and "God doesn't think our clothes important." (As if they know what God thinks. As if God who is Truth thinks.) 

We build the churches to provide a holy place where we might withdraw from the ugly behaviors, appearance, and attitudes of the world in which we live. We want to focus our attention and the affections of our heart on the eternal. We intentionally push aside the distractions that are hurled at us by a culture and economy that lives on the desperate edge of collapse. The world suffers a continual panic about what might happen if you or I ignore the news out of Washington or the sales in the grocery store. Does anyone really care what you think about Joe, Nancy, or Francis? 

Entering the church we leave all that behind. If we must think about it, we'll pray for God's merciful guidance in our terrified world. But in the church we fear only the Lord who is worthy of our full attention and unalloyed homage. We'll be distracted from our inattention by candles, statues, and hymns. We will ask God to move in and make our hearts a house of prayer. 

Optional Memorial of Saint Rose Philippine Duchesne, virgin

 Lectionary 449

As Jesus drew near Jerusalem,
he saw the city and wept over it, saying,
“If this day you only knew what makes for peace–
but now it is hidden from your eyes."

Isaiah prophesied the blindness of Jerusalem,

And he replied: Go and say to this people:

Listen carefully, but do not understand!

Look intently, but do not perceive!

Make the heart of this people sluggish,

dull their ears and close their eyes;

Lest they see with their eyes, and hear with their ears,

and their heart understand,

and they turn and be healed.

 

Saint John’s gospel (chapter 12) also recalls Isaiah’s dire prophecy:

Although he had performed so many signs in their presence they did not believe in him, in order that the word which Isaiah the prophet spoke might be fulfilled…:

“He blinded their eyes

and hardened their heart,

so that they might not see with their eyes

and understand with their heart and be converted,

and I would heal them.”

 

Jesus explains in Saint Mark’s gospel why they don’t understand his parables:

He answered them, “The mystery of the kingdom of God has been granted to you. But to those outside everything comes in parables, so that

‘…they may look and see but not perceive,

and hear and listen but not understand,

in order that they may not be converted and be forgiven.’”

 

Our sacred scriptures despise idols like Luck, Fate, or Serendipity; nothing happens that God does not do. Not much happens that does not have meaning. 

The obtuse blindness of Jesus's enemies, in particular, is a sign of God’s punishing hand. But it’s a blindness they have brought upon themselves. They have been blessed with the light of wisdom but they ignore the way that was revealed to them and go their own way.

Twenty centuries later, it doesn’t take much imagination to see people acting blindly and stupidly despite the truth that confronts them like an oncoming train. As the wise one said, “Denial ain’t just a river in Egypt.”

The Lord's response to their blindness, however, should give us pause. Voices often get louder in an argument when people suppose their opponents don't see the obvious. They get angry and their expressions get personal, supposing that the others are stupid, stubborn, or downright evil. 

Jesus wept. As partisan politics continues to grow ever more intense, bitter, and irrational, as proffered compromises are met with suspicion, and partisans reach for their weapons, Jesus's disciples weep with him. We cannot hate our opponents any more than Jesus would. Even as we cannot imagine why agreement over the Truth is so difficult, we pray with human compassion for our enemies. 

Memorial of Saint Elizabeth of Hungary, Religious

 Lectionary: 499

R.    Lord, when your glory appears, my joy will be full.

Keep me as the apple of your eye; hide me in the shadow of your wings.
But I in justice shall behold your face; on waking, I shall be content in your presence.

R.    Lord, when your glory appears, my joy will be full.

Saint Elizabeth of Hungary is for us a kind of "midway saint" in the sense that she lived during the early thirteenth century, midway between the time of Jesus and our time. She lives also in Europe, midway between North America and Israel. She learned from those who went before her, added her own way of the gospel, and passed it on to us. 

I'm sure many American parents have ambivalent feelings about her brief life. Born to the aristocracy, she married well -- a king -- and bore children while yet a teenager. When she heard from missionary friars of her contemporaries Saints Francis and Clare of Assisi she became enamored of this new life of poverty. Realizing that Jesus was born in poverty and never left that place, she also wanted to be poor. Her fond husband indulged her making huge donations from his wealth to the poor. But when he died young and she continued this prodigal giving, his family turned her and her children out of the palace. 

Eventually, following the impulse of the Holy Spirit and attentive to the discipline of her Franciscan spiritual director, she surrendered her children to her husband's family and set out on the low road of poverty. She settled in an unsanitary hospital for the poor where, exhausted and spent, she died at the age of twenty-four. We honor her today as the female patron saint of the Third Order of Saint Francis. 

Saint Elizabeth, queen of Hungary, heard the gospel that she must "hate" her own parents and children, brother and sister, riches and security, and even her own self. In those days few spiritual masters considered the maintenance of one's health as piety. They lacked the knowledge of such things; and given the life expectancy of that era, investing ones's energy in good health was throwing good money after bad. The individual could not expect a second chance after a mortal illness; you made your decision and kept it for as many years as God might give you. 

Elizabeth chose the following of Jesus in evangelical poverty. There was no virtue in wealth, luxury, or security; nor were there any assurances for aristocrats. They could die as quickly as the poor, or suffer assassination from their enemies, friends, and family. Why not give her life for Christ?

She sang with the psalmist, "Lord, when your glory appears, my joy will be full." And that should also be our morning prayer. Nothing in this world can last long; our only security is the Word of God with its promises and blessings. 

Optional Memorial of Saint Margaret of Scotland

 Lectionary: 498

And Jesus said to him,
“Today salvation has come to this house
because this man too is a descendant of Abraham. 
For the Son of Man has come to seek
and to save what was lost.”

 

Many of us find the challenging message of this delightful story hard to swallow. Zacchaeus is a charming fellow and Jesus is obviously taken at the sight of this fellow with his expensive clothes and look of refinement perched like a schoolboy in a tree. He might have said, “You had me at….”

But “…they grumbled.” Saint Luke does not say exactly who they are. Were they disagreeable Pharisees who seem to turn up in every story; the disciples, who have their own misgivings about Jesus and his mission; or the curious people of Jericho? Perhaps they are people in general, and you and me in particular.

Which of us doesn’t have an unacknowledged but fairly precise definition of who is salvageable and who is not? Who should be greeted and who should be shunned. If I were called out on my definition I might deny it; but my eyebrows go up when I meet unexpected types among the disciples. There are any number of teachings and parables in the Bible about that sort of thing precisely because we all do it and won’t admit it.

As Jesus did with Zacchaeus, we have to discover the charm of each person. That discovery can begin with those close to me, or with strangers, or with myself. As a hospital chaplain I should expect to find it in each patient. 

(The VA created a helpful video of individuals passing through hospital corridors. Most had a trailing thought balloon of anxieties and worries; some were relieved with good news; some were elated with new opportunity. Hospital staff should be aware of, and perhaps curious about, the things on people's minds when they find them wandering or confused.) 

Jesus saw a descendant of Abraham who wanted to be saved. He didn't bother to see the reactions of the crowd. We would do well to see as God sees and to know as God knows.

Optional Memorial of Saint Albert the Great, bishop and doctor of the Church

 Lectionary: 497

They told him,
“Jesus of Nazareth is passing by.”
He shouted, “Jesus, Son of David, have pity on me!”

Saint Luke makes much of the Holy Name; it is dear to the heart of every Christian. We first hear Jesus when the Angel Gabriel announces to Mary that she will have a son, despite her virginity, and that she should name him Jesus. This is clearly God's intention. 

The name is derived from the Hebrew name Yeshua, meaning deliver or rescue. It is essentially the same as Joshua, whom God appointed to lead the people when Moses died. Saint Matthew's gospel also tells us that the same heavenly messenger ordered Joseph to name the child Jesus. 

The name is not unique to Mary's son before or since. Catholics enjoy the book of Ecclesiasticus, written by Jesus ben Sirach. 

There is power in the name, as the healing of the blind man suggests. Most of us stop what we're doing when we hear our name called; it causes an immediate reaction and we must respond. Even as he hung upon the cross in the desperate struggle for his last breath, the child of Mary heard his name called by a doomed companion and promised, "This day you will be with me in Paradise." 

Saint Bernard of Sienna was so taken with the Holy Name he taught Christians to add it as a final word of the prayer, Ave, Maria! That prayer later evolved and we know it as Hail Mary. 

Boomer fans of J.D.Salinger remember when Zooey began to pray the Jesus Prayer, a lovely custom learned from Eastern Catholicism. There are many variations; I learned it as, "Lord Jesus Christ, Son of the Living God, have mercy on me, a sinner." The practice teaches us to rely on the mercy of God who has lived among us, sees our helplessness, and cares intensely. Calling his name binds us to him. As we pray daily we receive sight and understanding of what our life is really about. We follow him like every other beggar, giving glory to God.

For, as Saint Peter insisted in the Acts of the Apostles, 

"There is no salvation through anyone else, nor is there any other name under heaven given to the human race by which we are to be saved.”

Thirty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time

Lectionary: 158

"In those days after that tribulation
the sun will be darkened,
and the moon will not give its light,
and the stars will be falling from the sky,
and the powers in the heavens will be shaken.
"And then they will see 'the Son of Man coming in the clouds'
with great power and glory,
and then he will send out the angels
and gather his elect from the four winds,
from the end of the earth to the end of the sky.

As the priest chaplain in a VA hospital, I am sometimes asked if I think the end of the world is near. "Certainly," I say, "the world as we know it has ended." 

The nations, their leaders, multinational corporations, and the Earth's innumerable religions are navigating in darkness without a global positioning system. If the world's peoples were ever ready for the coming of the Son of Man in the clouds this would be the moment. By ready I mean helpless, frightened, clueless, and desperate.

We can reasonably expect that the current Covid 19 pandemic with its variants will pass; we can hope that the world and its leaders will have learned something from the experience; but expectation and hope are quite different things. Expectation arises from ordinary reasoning; hope must be born of belief in God and the grace that moves us to care for and work with each other. 

We can expect that we will continue to adapt to climate change, and we can expect that there will always be much resistance to the necessary adaptations. Some will agree that changes must be made, "but not yet!" 

Many will find ways to defend their particular status quo while demanding that everyone else makes the necessary sacrifices. We can hope the wealthiest change their ways; we can expect they will not.

Our Christian faith, grounded in Jewish tradition and scripture, assures us that God is with us even as it affirms our helplessness. We cannot expect to navigate the shoals in darkness without the lighthouse of the Church. From its position on the Rock of Christ we can track the reefs, ridges, keys, and currents that would founder our ship. 

We can expect the continuing contempt of unbelievers who cite a long history of our sins, quarrels, misdeeds, and mistakes. Their facts are confusing; our faith is not. 

We can expect some of our own children and loved ones, hearing the siren calls of madness, to abandon our faith. We can hope and pray they do not. 

If I ever thought that life would get easier with the passage of time, I regret that thought. Hospitalized Veterans of World War II, Korea, and Vietnam teach me that. But I share with them the confident faith that Jesus walks with us.

 

Amen, I say to you,

this generation will not pass away

until all these things have taken place. 

Heaven and earth will pass away,

but my words will not pass away.

 

Memorial of Saint Frances Xavier Cabrini, Virgin

 Lectionary: 496

When peaceful stillness compassed everything and the night in its swift course was half spent, your all-powerful word, from heaven’s royal throne bounded, a fierce warrior, into the doomed land, bearing the sharp sword of your inexorable decree.
And as he alighted, he filled every place with death; he still reached to heaven, while he stood upon the earth.

This stark passage from the Book of Wisdom, recalls the night of Passover when the Angel of Death passed over the Hebrews to slay the firstborn of the Egyptians. Until that grim moment, "peaceful stillness" rested upon the "doomed land." Perhaps Jesus was thinking of that very passage when he declared, 

“I have come to set the earth on fire, and how I wish it were already blazing! There is a baptism with which I must be baptized, and how great is my anguish until it is accomplished! Do you think that I have come to establish peace on the earth? No, I tell you, but rather division." 

Jesus seems to despise that peace which is easily shattered by his coming. During the first papal visit to the United States, Pope Paul VI famously reminded the United Nations, "If you want peace, work for justice." No political, economic, or social system can attain peace; and that peace which they might create is only a facsimile of the real thing. Fragile, brief, and just as doomed as ancient Egypt. 

Nor is justice attainable without the wisdom, courage, and spirit of God. Human notions of justice, worked out within our historical, cultural, geographical landscape, cannot include every consideration; human considerations cannot foresee every consequence of every action.  

The Egyptians were quite satisfied with their system. If the Hebrew slaves were unhappy, they were a small, powerless minority and why should Pharaoh or his people care about them? The controlling caste did not remember Joseph and the divine wisdom which delivered them from a seven year famine. That was all in the past and why should they worry about that? It's not like they owed something to the Hebrews! 

Last summer, when I visited Mammoth Cave, I learned about the miners -- African slaves -- who excavated the saltpeter used to make gunpowder, which was used to fight the British navy in the War of 1812. Our history might read very differently had we lost that war. The more we examine the economics of antebellum United States the more we discover our debt to Africa and its people. Now forgotten slaves were essential workers; they contributed much to our present prosperity. 

The first large immigration of Asians were imported to build American railroads; they were  educated and organized but their strike for just wages ended in the wilderness when their food supply was severed. Could there be a United States without Chinese labor? 

If "peace" would overlook these debts, it is doomed. If peace does not welcome the onward march of  justice it deserves to suffer "the sharp sword of your inexorable decree." 

We begin by hearing the cry of the poor, and continue by studying their historical contributions. We make progress by considering what might, can, and should be done; and then move forward. We might yet forestall the punishing hand of God.