Thursday of the Twenty-first Week in Ordinary Time

Lectionary: 428

"Stay awake!
For you do not know on which day your Lord will come."

Situational Awareness, my Veteran chaplains called it. Know what's going on. Know the time, the people present and involved, recent developments, threats, potential dangers, and available resources. Be prepared for any eventuality.

If you want to step down from immediate readiness, make sure someone is watching. Someone has got your back. Don't be caught off guard. Don't play the fool. 

Real life and the Bible have little respect for fools like the wicked servant who says to himself, 'My master is long delayed;" and then begins to beat his fellow servants, and eat and drink with drunkards. Their mothers might love them, knowing their past brilliance and yet-to-be-discovered potential. But real life knows nothing of that. It only knows that one's guard is down and bad things can happen even to mamma's good boys and girls.

I have heard many people complain about the threats of punishment and violence in the scriptures. Their experience of middle class prosperity with its insurance policies, safety nets, and contingency plans has told them that nothing really bad can happen today; nothing, that is, that your support systems can't handle. Bad things really should not happen to good people like me. Doesn't the Bible say that? And I am a good person; or at least, not that bad. 

Jesus assures his disciples that there will be hard times and many insurmountable challenges. We should expect them; and we should prepare for them. A sustainable spiritual infrastructure, like one's financial securities and personal support system, is built day by day, with time and deliberate sacrifices. We build these securities during the good times so that they'll be there in the difficult ones. You might trust the spiritual strength of others but only you can build your own. When all of your plans b, c, and d; and your fall backs, networks, and systems collapse; and you wait alone in darkness and can see no light, we call it faith. 

I remember one foolish fellow who died in the VA, surrounded by his buddies. Each of these young people had resigned from the military to pursue their ambitions; but he continued to enjoy the indulgences they had all shared at one time. He was a good guy, charming, witty, and fun to be around. Despite his abilities he'd refused to apply himself; he somehow expected life should come easier. He'd passed the last year or more couch surfing, moving from one friend's sofa to another's. But he was wasting himself in the meanwhile. I don't remember what he died of, but his friends had come to comfort him and one another as their youth passed into eternity. 

There comes a day when it's someone else's turn to be dependent, immature, and needy. They're called children. The rest of us grow up, and the Lord joins us with the spirit and courage to face reality. 

Wednesday of the Twenty-first Week in Ordinary Time

 Lectionary: 427

And for this reason we too give thanks to God unceasingly,
that, in receiving the word of God from hearing us,
you received it not as the word of men, but as it truly is, the word of God,
which is now at work in you who believe.

Anyone who has announced the Gospel and seen its transforming power in the life of others can say, "I didn't do that! They might be enormously grateful for what I said, but I didn't say it. It was the Holy Spirit." 

And every preacher can tell you of the gratitude of people who heard what they never said! Or even thought of! But something they said triggered a string of thoughts in that person's mind which brought about a radical and healing transformation. They can only be grateful that they happened to be there, like midwives, when something wonderful happened, and that their words may have inspired it. 

Indeed, these blessed persons "had received it not as the word of men but as it truly is, the word of God." 

In the meanwhile, the preacher marches on with their awareness of sin, shame, and guilt, all too aware of culpability and failure to believe in God's word and walk in God's path. God's hand has done a mighty work, and they can say in all honesty... 

...we hold this treasure in earthen vessels, that the surpassing power may be of God and not from us. (2 Cor 4:7)

Memorial of the Passion of Saint John the Baptist

Lectionary: 426/634

You yourselves know, brothers and sisters,
that our reception among you was not without effect.
Rather, after we had suffered and been insolently treated,
as you know, in Philippi,
we drew courage through our God
to speak to you the Gospel of God with much struggle.

Saint Paul's description of himself and his mission might well apply to the Baptist's life and death. Both suffered opposition and humiliation; both died in ignominious obscurity. We find inspiration and a pattern for our own lives in their stories.

Struggle is the key word for Paul, John, and Jesus as they announced the Good News to a resistant world. The nations are not second graders eager to make their First Communion; they are suspicious from the outset. Whether the missionaries speak the same language with the same accent, or come from a distant place with a story of an executed criminal, this "news" is supposed to change everything and we don't like it. 

For Herod, John's message meant the king could not do anything he could get away with so long as the Roman overlords didn't care. If everyone knew he had plotted his brother's death and taken the widow for his wife, that was nobody's business but his. He couldn't be bothered with God's law when Roman indulgence gave him free rein to do as he pleased. Why should the holy clown in the Jordan River object? 

Saint Paul also met resistance from Jewish synagogues and from those Christian missionaries he sarcastically called super apostles. He doubted their outlandish claims of ecstatic experience and disputed their insistence that every gentile Christian should be circumcised. He would not have his disciples surrender their newfound freedom to observe the Jewish dietary laws. Unfortunate converts of his opponents had been misled from one kind of oppression into another, and Paul protested loudly. It cost him, of course as it cost John the Baptist and Jesus. 

The 21st century also discovers the challenge of the Gospel as consumers recklessly exploit the poor and the Earth. They might want to hear that Jesus has come to save everyone and forgive everything  but they are not so willing to be merciful as God is merciful. Nor are they eager to live sacrificially because God has sacrificed his only begotten son. Why shouldn't they emulate the super-rich? Isn't God super-rich? 

Fearful of enemies, aliens, and others in general, they are not willing to trust in God's providence or sit at the Lord's table and dine with strangers in the sight of their foes. They would call their way of life spiritual without regard for the faith and traditions of their ancestors. And when they hear the Gospel of all things new, they suppose it began when they were born.

Especially because he died defending the Sacrament of Marriage, the Passion of Saint John the Baptist reminds us that the Gospel is no more welcome today than it was then. And God's People will always be strangers and aliens in a foreign land. 

Memorial of Saint Augustine, Bishop and Doctor of the Church

 Lectionary: 425

Woe to you, blind guides, who say,
'If one swears by the temple, it means nothing,
but if one swears by the gold of the temple, one is obligated.'
Blind fools, which is greater, the gold,
or the temple that made the gold sacred?

Assigned to Louisiana for seven years, I learned to play a popular variant of dominoes, where only the multiples of five count as points. When I returned home to Kentucky or played with friars in Minnesota, they suspected I was making up the rules as we played. The fact that I usually won didn't help. They soon tired of my rules and my winning and we played something else. 

Jesus saw clearly how the Pharisees were replacing God's law with their own arbitrary rules. By Pharisaic rules, they always won God's love, while everyone else faced eternal condemnation. 

The governing classes (Pharisees, Sadducees, and Herodians) generally agreed to suppress all spontaneous demonstrations of faith in Israel, so as to prevent popular uprisings against the all-powerful Roman army. But Jesus saw how their arbitrary rules also discouraged faith in God. Their Big Brother surveillance of religious, dietary, and social customs sabotaged the freedom of God's children. They could be neither happy nor holy under the Pharisees' regime. 

Today's Church faces a different challenge. Democratic and socialist governments don't oppose Catholicism per se, but they have different agendas. They are governed by a consumer culture which is determined to maintain the status quo on a dynamic planet. If evolution adapts continually to environmental change, consumers like things just the way they were -- yesterday. Where our sexual impulse would produce children, the market threatens to impoverish large families. Where our nurturing instincts would care for the sick and the elderly, an efficient economy sponsors euthanasia, assisted suicide, and eugenics. 

Unlike democratic governments, the Church is governed by God's Spirit which insists that we honor the human dignity of the poor, sick, elderly, and imprisoned. Even our enemies should be respected and loved. God's rule, as we see so clearly in the Bible, demands that we anticipate the future with a fearless, sacrificial spirit. Nothing is sacred to us except God's governance. We can live well with less security, fewer freedoms, and less stuff. We can adapt to life on a dynamic planet even as we respect individual integrity, the covenant of marriage, and the dignity of our human nature. 

We are not governed by an obsession for freedom or security but by a readiness to trust the Spirit and the will of God. As we examine our spiritual life daily, we worry more about the loss of spontaneity and happiness, and the encroachment of fear, anxiety, envy, jealousy, or resentment. 

Challenged by inflation we remember the God who led his people out of prosperous slavery into the freedom of an arid wilderness. We assure ourselves, God is always good, and today he's better. And, God will provide. Even as we count our dollars we read, "In God we trust." (I checked; yes, it's still there.) 

The Lord says to us daily, as Atticus Finch said to his daughter Scout, "It's not time to worry yet." 

Twenty-first Sunday in Ordinary Time

 Lectionary: 121

Oh, the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God!
How inscrutable are his judgments and how unsearchable his ways!
For who has known the mind of the Lord
or who has been his counselor?
Or who has given the Lord anything
that he may be repaid?
For from him and through him and for him are all things.
To him be glory forever. Amen.

Today's gospel describes a turning point in Salvation History when Saint Peter, speaking for the Twelve Apostles and for us, recognized Jesus of Nazareth as "the Christ, the Son of the living God."

Jesus was so surprised and pleased by Peter's declaration he exclaimed, "flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my heavenly Father." 

What Peter understood was a divine revelation; it is neither common sense nor a scientific conclusion. If his insight into Jesus is entirely reasonable, it did not come to him through a rational process of gathering facts, creating hypotheses, and concluding with a theory. That scientific process could only happen when the Father spoke to Peter in the depths of his heart and said, "Worship this man!" 

Jesus was delighted because Peter knew him as no one had known him before, with the exception of his Virgin Mother. As the Lord ventured from Galilee into the Jordan River and then into the wilderness, and as he began his journey from Nazareth to Jerusalem, no one had recognized what he was doing or who he was until Peter got it.

But, as the story continues, we realize that Peter's insight is limited. He recognizes Christ as the Son of the Living God but he has yet to fathom what that might mean for Jesus and for himself. His "messiah" might be a mighty warrior or a holy priest but he cannot be a suffering servant. He should not be arrested, tried, tortured, and hanged on a cross. Nor should he -- Peter and other disciples of this great man  -- have to face trials, persecution, and martyrdom as they followed the Lord. 

That revelation would come with time and much painful experience. First he would witness the terrible truth of his own cowardice; and then he would discover extraordinary courage as the Holy Spirit appeared and flourished in his own heart. 

That further revelation began, as we'll hear next Sunday, when Peter thought he knew the mind of the Lord and dared to counsel Jesus. He said, "God forbid, Lord! No such thing shall ever happen to you."

Jesus's reaction was immediate and sharp, ""Get behind me, Satan! You are an obstacle to me!"

But we're getting ahead of ourselves. It is good to stop here at this critical moment in Salvation History when an ordinary mortal – a man with limited insight and obvious failings – recognizes the presence of God on a dirty, busy highway in Israel. We should ponder the Father's revelation and Peter's declamation, "You are the Christ, the Son of the living God."

This mystery, as Saint Paul said, was hidden from time immemorial. It is suggested by many passages in the Old  Testament, and finally revealed in the birth, life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. Moses had prayed that the Lord would come with us; he never imagined the Incarnate God would walk among us. Or that God's word might be born of the Virgin Mary, and be recognized by a Jewish fisherman. He hoped that the nations might honor the God of Israel but he never dreamed of a gentile centurion saluting a dying Jewish man as the only begotten Son of God. 

The mystery of God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit invites everyone -- Jews and Gentiles -- to enter the truth that is our human and divine nature. We know who we are only if we know the Lord; we find ourselves in God or not at all. 

Mortals, born of earth, fire, air, and water in an unlimited universe of galaxies and stars, formed by the hand of God but reformed and deformed by geography, history, and society, subject to the whims of a dynamic, dangerous planet, frail vessels of clay: can we also find our meaning, purpose, and salvation in the clouded, confused atmosphere of our hearts? Might the God of All Creation speak to Earthlings saying, “If you would know your meaning and purpose, worship this Man?”  

In today's Gospel, in response to his declaration of faith,  Simon bar Jonah, once known as Cephas, learns who he is and who he will become. He will hear words and be given authority he never imagined::  

You are Peter,

and upon this rock I will build my church,

and the gates of the netherworld shall not prevail against it.

I will give you the keys to the kingdom of heaven.

Whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven;

and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven."

Saturday of the Twentieth Week in Ordinary Time

Lectionary: 424

Ruth the Moabite said to Naomi,
"Let me go and glean ears of grain in the field
of anyone who will allow me that favor."
Naomi said to her, "Go, my daughter," and she went.
The field she entered to glean after the harvesters
happened to be the section belonging to Boaz
of the clan of Elimelech.

Ruth was King David's great-grandmother; the Book of Ruth describes the story of the Moabite's migration to Israel and her meeting with David's great-grandfather Boaz. It is a happy-ever-after foundation story of a marriage. The book describes the complicated process that Boaz had to negotiate in order to marry the charming foreigner. If marriage was simple for Adam and Eve before the Fall, it was never again that safe or predictable. 

Ruth, the book, is similar to the Genesis story of Joseph and the books of Tobit, Judith, and Esther. The LORD does not appear in any of them; nor does he say anything. His hand is invisible and the protagonists must manage their affairs without God's overt intervention. If they are successful, it's only because they trust the silent spirit who leads them. 

In The Decameron, the medieval poet Boccaccio described a preference for romantic marriages over arranged marriages. He tells many amusing stories of lovely young women unfortunately betrothed to horrid old men, and their trysts with handsome lovers. It was the dream of the Middle Ages that these impetuous affairs might be more blessed than the hoary old system. 

In our time, many people have lost faith in both romantic and arranged marriages. But, impelled by their reproductive instincts, they invest in artificial insemination and single-parenting. They hope to avoid the curse which God pronounced upon Eve and marriage: 

I will intensify your toil in childbearing;

in pain you shall bring forth children.

Yet your urge shall be for your husband,

and he shall rule over you.

But, if they avoid the perils of romance, artificial insemination and single-parenting seem equally hopeless. I fear for the women who will be disappointed in their custom-made children with no one to blame but themselves (and the anonymous donor). I fear also for the children who will wonder why their fathers abandoned them even before they were conceived. The New York Times ran a story a few years ago, of a young man who searched for and found twenty half-siblings of as many different mothers in several states. When he asked the sperm bank about their father he was shown a note, "I wish them all the luck in the world." 

When we turn to the Bible in search of that mythical marriage made in heaven, we learn of another approach, God's plan. The LORD had planned the marriages of Ruth and Tobit; and, at the appropriate time, revealed it to them. If his divine hand is not obvious in the books, it is proven in the end. 

The exemplary young men and women of the Bible did not go in search of happily-ever-after. Tobias was looking for money owed to his father. Ruth was content to settle with her former mother-in-law. Boaz was preoccupied with his estate; poor Sarah had despaired of ever marrying. Each of them trusted the Lord when God's plan became evident. None regarded "sex" as the way of salvation, fulfillment, or meaning. They had never heard of Sigmund Freud and their culture was not sexualized. 

Ruth remains for the ages a story of God's benevolent plan for everyone, Jews and gentiles alike. In our search for meaning (or salvation, purpose, happiness, or fulfillment) we have only to await with eager longing God's mercy. 

Franciscan Memorial of Saint Louis of France

 Lectionary: 423

But Ruth said, "Do not ask me to abandon or forsake you!
For wherever you go, I will go, wherever you lodge I will lodge,
your people shall be my people, and your God my God."

[Following is the text of my third sermon of the novena in preparation for the Feast of the Assumption of Mary. I use it today because it's built around the story of Ruth. I presented in in the Basilica of Our Lady of Consolation in Carey, Ohio on Tuesday, August 8, this year:] 

During this novena I am reflecting on Inspired women of the Bible – the Old and New Testaments, and what they tell us about Mary, the Mother of God. As Catholics have known forever, Mary leads us to Jesus who brings us before God his Father. As Saint Paul said, 

…when he hands over the kingdom to his God and Father, after he has destroyed every sovereignty and every authority and power. 

Ruth is one of the shortest books in the Bible. She is a Moabite who marries into a Jewish family of immigrants in her country of Moab, and lives with her husband’s family. When her father-in-law, her husband and brother-in-law die, her sister-in-law Oprah leaves but Ruth remains with Naomi, her mother-in-law. 

Although the old woman had told her to go back to her family, Ruth replies, 

Wherever you go I will go,

wherever you lodge I will lodge.

Your people shall be my people

and your God, my God.

Where you die I will die,

and there I will be buried.

In Naomi’s hometown of Bethlehem, she will marry Boaz, have children, and become King David’s grandmother. We remember Ruth for her affectionate loyalty to Naomi, and her willingness to be with her “wherever you go.” 

Perhaps you’ve heard it said, “Wherever you go, there you are!”

Sometimes people decide to restart their lives by going to a different place. When I was sent to Australia in 1980, I had decided I would not drink alcohol anymore. It wasn’t working for me and my drinking was causing me more and more trouble. In Australia, I would take the geographical cure. In a different place, I would become a different person and no one would know the difference. 

But, "Wherever you go, there you are." 

Between the airport in Melbourne and the new friary in Springvale, I had a beer and pizza. I was hungry; I was thirsty. Fortunately, two months later, after more humiliation, a long talk with my superior, and a lot of prayer, I quit. And haven’t had a drink since. 

Ruth went to a new place with Naomi; and because she was no stranger to Naomi, and very attached to her, she left her ego behind. She is like Mary in that way. Mary renounced her ego as she replied to the Angel: 

I am the handmaid of the Lord. Be it done to me according to your word. 

Perhaps you remember the prayer of Abraham the Patriarch, our Father in Faith. It’s a simple prayer, "Here I am." 

Abraham often said that prayer to the Lord, and we hear it many times in the Bible. (Samuel, Isaiah, Jesus, and others.) 

Especially, in the story of the Sacrifice of Isaac, we hear it three times. 

• First when God calls him and Abraham answers, “Here I am.” 
• And then, as the boy and the old man are climbing the mountain, Isaac says, “Father,” and Abraham replies, “Here I am, Son.” 
• And finally, as he is about to stab his beloved and only son to death, God calls, “Abraham! Abraham!”. And he says again, “Here I am.”

In that moment of terrible emotion, as he has determined to do what God demands, he can still say, “Here I am! I am yours.”

This is a prayer we must say first of all to God, and then to others as the Lord directs us. Here I am. It means I am available, open, eager, able, ready. I have no agenda, nothing I need to do, or say, or accomplish. I don’t need to prove myself, my virtue, talent, or ability.

But I bring my virtue, talent and ability and they are available to you. The prayer means, I will love the Lord with all my heart, soul, mind, and strength. Here I am. 

We remember Mary’s availability when she said “I am the handmaid of the Lord. Be it done to me according to your word.”  

At the Angel’s command she went to Jerusalem to celebrate with Elizabeth the birth of John the Baptist. 

• She went with Joseph to Bethlehem, to have her baby in a barn. 
• She went with Joseph to Egypt, and then to Nazareth, her hometown. 
• She went with Jesus repeatedly to Jerusalem.
• She went with Jesus to Calvary. 
• She remained with the disciples in Jerusalem. 
• She goes to heaven ahead of us. 
• And she goes wherever the Lord sends her to Guadalupe, Lourdes, Fatima, Knock, or Carey Ohio. 
• She can be very persistent when she obeys the Lord, as she said to Juan Diego in Mexico, “Am I not your mother? Here I am!” 

In the Spirit of Ruth and Mary, we leave our egos behind and play as a team. Here are my abilities, my talents, my time, and my energy. They’re all limited but available. I have only so much time, energy, and talent, but here they are. 

For instance, if you’re a patient in the hospital, you’re the captain of the team and you say, “This is what I need! Please help me.” And the nurse might say, “When you need to get up, call me!” They don’t want you to fall; it only makes matters worse. And so you play team, and you call the nurse when you need to get up. 

And as a team player, you say thank you. 

Everything is gift. We don’t believe we’re entitled to anything. We take nothing and no one for granted. 

Let’s speak of the opposite of this prayer: I am told the most popular song at funerals is a recording of Frank Sinatra, “I did it my way.”  Isn’t that the saddest, most pathetic thing you’ve ever heard? Many of our neighbors are really sick people; they believe that freedom is doing things their way! 

The Ego says, “Here’s what I must have.” or “Here is the way it ought to be done.” Here is how you should talk, eat, work, pray, think, and feel. 

Some priests will change the Mass! Here’s how the Church should pray, they say. When you attend their mass, you think you need to go back to church and attend a real mass! 

Egos arrive as saviors, as God’s gifts to the family, the Church, the company, the volunteer service. They take charge as if they’re god. They rearrange your life so that you’ll know they are there. They say, “I am somebody and you must deal with me! 

I will be the center of your life. Not God! Not Jesus! Me! 

When we come to the Lord we leave the ego behind us. Wherever you go, Jesus. I will go. Wherever you live, Mary, I will live. Your church shall be my church, and your God will be my God. 

When we get to know Ruth, the grandmother of King David, she leads us to Mary, who takes us to Jesus. Remember what Jesus said,

“You know that egos who are recognized as rulers over the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great egos make their authority over them felt. But it shall not be so among you. Rather, whoever wishes to be great among you will be your servant; whoever wishes to be first among you will be the slave of all.

For the Son of Man did not come to be served but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many.”

And Saint Paul urged us to 

“Have among yourselves the same attitude that is also yours in Christ Jesus,

Who, though he was in the form of God,

did not regard equality with God something to be grasped.

Rather, he emptied himself,

taking the form of a slave

coming in human likeness;

and found human in appearance,

he humbled himself,

becoming obedient to death, even death on a cross.

And Saint Paul also wrote, 

In Christ shall all be brought to life in their proper order: 

Christ the firstfruits; 

then, at his coming, those who belong to Christ; 

then comes the end, when he hands over the kingdom to his God and Father, when he has destroyed every sovereignty and every authority and power. 

The last enemy to be destroyed is death…

When everything is subjected to him, then the Son himself will be subjected to the one who subjected everything to him, so that God may be all in all.

No one lives for himself, and no one dies for himself. Whether we live or die. We are the Lord’s. 

When we come to the Lord we leave the ego behind us. Wherever you go, Jesus. I will go. Mary, wherever you live, I will live. Your church shall be my church, and your God will be my God. 

God bless you,

Feast of Saint Bartholomew, Apostle

 Lectionary: 629

The angel spoke to me, saying,
"Come here.
I will show you the bride, the wife of the Lamb."
He took me in spirit to a great, high mountain anted showed me the holy city Jerusalem
coming down out of heaven from God.

Just as the Lord led Moses up the mountain that he might see the Promised Land from afar, so the angel showed John, the Seer of Patmos, the New Jerusalem coming down from God. Neither the saint nor the Apostles nor innumerable martyrs would see its realization in their time. Nor do we see it today. 

There is still much expectation. Some evangelicals expect a second coming of the Lord any day; some dreamers envision a sustainable ecology with both fabulous wealth for a few and sufficient prosperity for the rest. StarTrek anticipated a 25th century with no poverty! There are even those who see a select few beginning again, like Noah and his family, on a distant exoplanet. (They obviously have not read the rest of the story; the tale of Noah's flood ended badly with his drunkenness and the family's dispersal. The Lord's drastic punishment failed, and human wickedness continued uninterrupted despite the Deluge.)

Martyrs like Saint Barnabas remind us that nothing good can happen without sacrifice. For Catholics, it's a way of life. We give as much as we can and are disappointed that we cannot give more. 

With his encyclical Laudato Si, Pope Francis has shown us that wasting the Earth's natural resources is the same thing as exploitation of human beings. Neither is just; both are evil. They can end only in the catastrophe we're already seeing. 

But, as Isaiah said and the Lord reiterated, "They have eyes but cannot see; they have ears but cannot hear." The science is clear; the solutions are available; but the spirit is not there. We don't want to sacrifice. If we are not willing to cut back on our wasteful habits, it's because we intend to continue misusing people and draining natural resources. 

The Lord raises up martyrs like Saint Barnabas in every age to witness the spirit, to show us the way, and to prove how reluctant we are. Their virtue reveals our sin, which is why we hate them. The world finds their joyful determination distressing and disturbing. 

"Come away and rest a while!" the Lord urged his apostles. When we turn back to the Lord we will discover the ways and means to make the necessary sacrifices. The spirit of sacrifice will be eager, joyful, and expectant. Like Moses and Saint John, we will see the Promised Land and the New Jerusalem from afar. 

Optional Memorial of Saint Rose of Lima, virgin

O God, you set Saint Rose of Lima on fire with love

So that, secluded from the world

In the austerity of a life of penance,

She might give herself to you alone;

Grant, we pray, that through her intercession,

We may tread the paths of life on earth

And drink at the stream of your delights in heaven.

Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son,

Who lives and reigns with you

In the unity of the Holy Spirit,

God, forever and ever.

Lectionary: 421

He said to one of them in reply, 'My friend, I am not cheating you. Did you not agree with me for the usual daily wage? Take what is yours and go. What if I wish to give this last one the same as you? Or am I not free to do as I wish with my own money? Are you envious because I am generous?' Thus, the last will be first, and the first will be last."

Monasticism, like that of Saint Rose of Lima, has never lost its appeal, despite the feverish activism which society imposes upon us. If we justify the isolation of hermits and the rigorously scheduled life of monks and nuns we suppose their work is their prayer. "God forbid they might indulge in idleness!"

But, as today's Gospel reminds us, the Lord of the Vineyard gives different gifts to different disciples; and he might give some men and women the singular life of continual prayer.

Nor should they attempt to justify it to those who think not being frenetically busy is probably sinful, if not downright evil. When we put our trust in the Lord and let him be our savior and champion, we quit trying to justify our lives and decisions to the world.

Retired persons -- like this author -- sometimes have nothing to do. (OMG!) They might feverishly find something -- Anything -- to DO! The more pious will start reciting the rosary, reviewing the Stations of the Cross, or praying a mantra. But sometimes it serves God's purposes to listen to the traffic outside or the wind on the roof. Or let one's mind wander into the storehouse of memory.

Should the Spirit take us by the hand in those moments, we might find ourselves forgiving old enemies, praying for their souls or wishing them well despite ourselves. We might remember past sins and surrender once again to the dreadful imperfections of a life not as well lived as it might have been.

Rather than making excuses for the past by blaming others or by relegating it to the foolishness of our youth, we might let our past stand as naked as the sinful Adam and Eve.

We surrender our shame to an all-seeing God, and let Psalm 139 roll through our minds and purify our hearts:

LORD, you have probed me, you know me:

you know when I sit and stand;

you understand my thoughts from afar.

You sift through my travels and my rest;

with all my ways you are familiar....

Memorial of the Queenship of the Blessed Virgin Mary

Lectionary: 420

Jesus said to them, "Amen, I say to you
that you who have followed me, in the new age,
when the Son of Man is seated on his throne of glory,
will yourselves sit on twelve thrones,
judging the twelve tribes of Israel.

Not many Christians openly aspire to sit on thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel or any other nation. We certainly judge a lot, but are embarrassed when we're caught doing it. It's kind of an open secret. 

But anyone who has glanced through the Book of Judges knows that the biblical word is not about sitting at a raised desk listening to plaintiffs and lawyers. Biblical judges set things right. And that's because anything wrong is sin, whether it's a natural catastrophe like a plague or drought, or a nation and culture which forgets its God and follows its own primitive instincts. 

When the disciples of Jesus announce the Gospel of his life, passion, death, and resurrection they begin the process of setting things right. Their announcements may be quiet, like a cup of cold water for a thirsty soul, a visit to the sick or imprisoned, or clothing the naked. They may be first responders rushing to a stricken area following a storm, or second-responders arriving with long term loans and spiritual counsel for the traumatized. Biblical judges come to serve and not to be served. 

When we celebrate Mary, the Queen of Heaven and Earth, we thank God that he has given such a mother to us. Just as Jesus the King of the Universe fulfills his messiahship by healing the sick, raising the dead, and reconciling us with our enemies, Mary offers eternal intercession for us. 

Jesus insisted that his great ones among us do not burden a long suffering church with their sinful demands and tiresome needs. Rather they turn our attention downward and away from the powerful who jealously guard their prerogatives. 

Mary's crown is a cotton kerchief, not a tin tiara. 

Memorial of Saint Pius X, Pope

Lectionary: 419

Whenever the LORD raised up judges for them, he would be with the judge
and save them from the power of their enemies
as long as the judge lived;
it was thus the LORD took pity on their distressful cries
of affliction under their oppressors.
But when the judge died,
they would relapse and do worse than their ancestors,
following other gods in service and worship,
relinquishing none of their evil practices or stubborn conduct.

I learned about Pope Saint Pius X when I was a boy. Whereas my grandparents had received their First Communion as teenagers, the Saint allowed my parents' and my generation to receive the Eucharist when we attained "the age of reason," which was deemed about seven. 

The liturgical reforms of the Vatican Council shook a lot of people up; but that was, at least in part, because they were so misinformed about the history of liturgical reforms. The twentieth century saw the Prayer to Saint Michael the Archangel added to the end of the Mass. Americans were allowed to celebrate parts of baptism and funeral rites in their own language. And Catholics were encouraged to receive the Eucharist often, though that suggestion never took effect until the onerous requirement of fasting since midnight was lifted. 

Pope Pius X especially encouraged more lay participation in the Mass. They should follow the Mass with their missals, which he introduced, rather than reciting the rosary of other prayers. My mother recalled servers reading the English version of the Mass as the priest read the Latin. Gregorian Chant was reintroduced for its sing-ability, to permit choirs and congregations better participation. 

There was clearly a desire for the entire Church to pray in unison with one mind and heart. We're getting there! 

We're challenged today first by the weariness of the congregation. Many people only want some peace and quiet when they come to Church on Sunday morning. They don't want to sing or move about; they're tired of being hammered by social media and blaring televisions. They don't want to hear about politics or social issues or the environment. They want something familiar, soothing, and non-invasive, preferably in their own language. Suspicious of strangers, they don't want to sit in a densely packed room with a lot of people; loud speakers allow them to sit remote and removed from singers, readers, and preachers. Unlike their ancestors, they have a perfect dread of body odor. 

But the Holy Spirit remains with the Church. She still draws us to worship together despite our weariness, fear of strangers, fear of contamination, fear of the unfamiliar, and fear of engagement. 

This is the spirit of Saint Pius X, of Pope Saint John Paul II, and our own Pope Francis. As we learn the art of synodality -- which is not poll-taking but listening collectively to the Lord -- we will become more ready to sing God's praises with one voice, one mind, and one heart. 

Twentieth Sunday in Ordinary Time

 Lectionary: 118

The foreigners who join themselves to the LORD,
ministering to him,
loving the name of the LORD,
and becoming his servants—
all who keep the sabbath free from profanation
and hold to my covenant,
them I will bring to my holy mountain
and make joyful in my house of prayer...

Our first reading today is taken from among the last chapters of the Book of the Prophet Isaiah. The author has been called "Third Isaiah" because he addresses a situation that is quite different from that addressed in the first 39 chapters of the book; and bears little resemblance to that of the 40th through 55th chapters. The first part of Isaiah was written in Jerusalem before the exile; the second, in Babylon during the exile; and the third, including today's reading, back in Jerusalem after the exile. The first and the third authors are separated by two centuries, but all three draw from the same theological presuppositions. All are familiar with the Pentateuch, and the historical books: Joshua, Deuteronomy, and Numbers. 

Our reading today concerns those inhabitants of Judah and Jerusalem whose recent ancestors did not return from Babylon after the Captivity. Nor were their ancient ancestors slaves in Egypt. They are newcomers who would frequent the Temple and worship with their Jewish neighbors despite their lack of pedigree. Some of Jews who have long memories and have suffered much refuse to welcome these aliens to prayer, the congregation, or the Temple. But the Spirit of God is drawing them into the Jewish orbit, and the prophetic spirit of Isaiah welcomes them. 

One time, when I suggested to a parishioner, that her ethnically-based parish might soon welcome Mexican immigrants to the church, she replied, "Please, Father, we've got enough trouble already." There was trouble in that parish, but no worse than those of any other church. On another occasion, following a cathedral Mass when the second reading was announced in Vietnamese, I heard a woman grumble, "They're taking over my Church." 

The Catholic experience of centuries, and the more recent American experiment, has proven that those communities that integrate new members with their different cultures and historical experience, with different languages, customs, foods, and dress, flourish. Those who build barricades to reinforce their barriers stagnate and die. A church which does not announce its gospel to foreigners is not a Christian church.  

The Catholic Church today is caught in a polarized maelstrom of controversy. On the one hand, a liberal ideology purportedly welcomes diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) at the cost of moral and doctrinal integrity. On the other hand, a conservative ideology suspects words like compassion, tolerance, and hospitality; and doesn't mind if some people feel unwelcome.

In the first centuries of the Church, we adopted the word catholic because it described that solidarity of doctrine and communion which spanned the "known world" -- from India to the British Isles. We agreed to celebrate Easter on the same day, whether in Ireland or Rome or Jerusalem. We agreed on the canonical books of the New Testament. Catholic embraced the defined doctrines of Incarnation and Trinity, while rejecting local heresies that appealed only to certain ethnic minorities. Catholicism congealed around loyalty to the bishop of Rome and respect for both his governing and teaching authority. 

Our first loyalty, of course, is to the Lordship of the Crucified and Risen Lord Jesus. We find unity in our creeds, especially the Apostles Creed and the Nicene Creed. We find universal delight in the Mass, the Sacraments, and the Virgin Mother of God. 

We cannot entertain suggestions that the Lord did not actually rise from death, or that only his "spirit" persisted. These trial ideas were discussed centuries ago, and found wanting. Those who, thinking they're being creative today; that they have a right to disproven ideas, and would obnoxiously proclaim such nonsense must find themselves unwelcome. Their presence can only harm the Church. 

No one said it should be easy to be Catholic. Our principles of freedom, dignity, and integrity are far deeper than the diversity, equity, and inclusion touted by shallow thinking. 

Nor is it easy to respect the integrity of others who say, "Love me, love my opinions." and, "If you would be my friend you must agree with me."  We must respect their human dignity and their basic freedoms even as we disrespect their absurd ideas. 

Our faith will always be challenged by outsiders who bring too much baggage with them; and by immature insiders who are fascinated by bad ideas because they are new. As Bishop Robert Barron has said, "We have dumbed down the faith for too long!" 

But, like the Prophet Isaiah, we welcome everyone who is fascinated by the Son of Mary and wants to know him as the Son of God. 

Saturday of the Nineteenth Week in Ordinary Time

 Lectionary: 418

"Let the children come to me, and do not prevent them;
for the Kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these."

Hagiography and the Bible contain too many stories of wise, prudent, bold, and clever personalities for anyone to suppose salvation belongs only to the childish, gullible or naive. 

When Jesus blessed the children and reminded his disciples that the Kingdom of Heaven belongs to such as these, he was not advocating foolishness. In the Bible sinners and fools are often found together in an unhappy sentence. They're pretty much the same thing. 

Rather, he urged his disciples to be as wise as children who let adults handle the challenges of the adult world. Faith-filled adults allow the Lord to handle those challenges beyond the scope of human intervention. Things like the problem of evil, and why bad things happen to good people.  

A green friend of mine worried lately about the plight of the whales. Now there's not a whale within five hundred miles of Mount Saint Francis, except perhaps those pampered, protected animals in zoos. He likes to worry about such things, although he has too many worries on his plate already. 

The entertainment media loves to worry us with distressing stories about things for which we have no responsibility. If you listen to NPR you know what I mean, but I suppose Fox is just as bad. 

From our earliest days in the Sinai peninsula, after God led us out of Egypt and through the Red Sea, the Lord has assured us, "I will be with you." Our providential God guarantees our security, wisdom, confidence, and flourishing so long as we trust in him. 

Will there be challenges? Of course. 
Can we handle them? No. 
Can God? Yes!

Our first reading today recounts the renewal of vows of the Hebrew people under Joshua's leadership, as they entered the Promised Land. We must continually renew our vows to the Lord, remembering again that the Lord of Abraham, Moses, Joshua, David, and Jesus has never abandoned his people. Let us pray...

Friday of the Nineteenth Week in Ordinary Time

Lectionary: 417

"I gave you a land that you had not tilled
and cities that you had not built, to dwell in;
you have eaten of vineyards and olive groves
which you did not plant." Joshua 24:13

President Obama's remark -- "You didn't build that!" -- might have been better received if he had cited Joshua 24:13 when he said it. Perhaps -- but probably not. 

The Bible says that the Hebrews nearing the Promised Land -- second-generation emigres from Egypt -- welcomed Joshua's original remarks, as we'll hear on Saturday. After a long and detailed conversation, 

"...the people promised Joshua, “We will serve the LORD, our God, and will listen to his voice.”

Obama's remark was meant to remind his fellow Americans, allies and opponents, that our ancestors had the foresight to build solid, dependable infrastructures; and we should reinvest in maintenance of old structures as we build new ones. He said it well enough but political discourse had already deteriorated from reasonable discussion into useless, polarized partisanship. Had the nation heard the Word of God in Obama's remarks we might not be prosecuting an ex-president for racketeering and conspiracy. 

Joshua and the Hebrews were building an infrastructure for a nation that would not appear for several more centuries. That was the shrine at Shechem where the Ark of the Covenant remained after the desert sojourn. Before a capital city, a wall around the city, or a highway to the city, there had to be a shrine for the worship of God. There the people would keep the memory of God's providential, protecting covenant and teach it to their children. And they must return generation after generation to maintain the covenant which promised, peace, security, prosperity, and abundance so long as they remembered. 

The Book of Judges, however, records the infidelity of the third generation: 

When the rest of that generation were also gathered to their ancestors, and a later generation arose that did not know the LORD or the work he had done for Israel, the Israelites did what was evil in the sight of the LORD. They served the Baals, and abandoned the LORD, the God of their ancestors, the one who had brought them out of the land of Egypt....

Despite Moses' warnings and Joshua's sacrifices, the Jews were mingling with the native Canaanites, adopting their ways, and losing their faith, their religious heritage,and the security of God's promise. 

The good news is that God remained faithful to his chosen people, the descendants of Abraham. The bad news: they had to suffer the fate of every nation and people on earth -- which is annihilation -- until they turned back to the Lord. No nation, people, tribe, language, or culture survives forever. This dynamic planet which is changing continually finally shatters every human institution. 

Although we evolved because of its dynamism, Earth owes us nothing and cares not a whit for us. Our flourishing is solely God's Mighty Work as he works within those arbitrary forces. As human beings, we contribute only when we catch the Spirit of God and work within his plan. 

As Catholics we're especially charged with the mission of building, maintaining, and passing along the spiritual infrastructures of our faith to another generation. Protestantism relies on the spiritual foundation of Catholicism even as Christianity relies on the covenant with Abraham. Should we fail, human life fails, the crucifixion means nothing, and the Earth becomes an exercise in divine futility. 

But that will not happen for the same reason we remember the fidelity of Joshua: God is faithful to his word. If necessary, God can raise up children to Abraham from these stones. He remembers the sacrifice of Isaac and the passion, death, and resurrection of Jesus.