Thirteenth Sunday of Ordinary Time

Lectionary: 98

He said to her, "Daughter, your faith has saved you. Go in peace and be cured of your affliction."

Jesus said to the synagogue official,
"Do not be afraid; just have faith."

Scripture scholars have long recognized Saint Mark's "sandwich" device. It begins with a story, tells a second story, and then returns to finish the first; thus connecting two stories whose similarities might otherwise go unnoticed. The first story is two pieces of bread with the second story between them. 

Mark employs the device in his account of Jesus's return to Capernaum after his miraculous adventure in gentile territory. The Lord is met by Jairus, a synagogue official, who begs the Healer to save his daughter from imminent death. He sets out for the man’s house immediately, but pauses a moment to heal an elderly woman. 

The stories are linked by several similarities: in both stories Jesus is mocked first by his disciples, and then by mourners and keeners. Jesus insists upon the power of faith in both stories; the sick persons are women though one is elderly and the other just coming of age; both illnesses may be feminine afflictions; the situations are quite desperate as one woman has suffered for many years and the girl is dying; both women are miraculously healed; and their faith in Jesus is effective. 

Feminist theologians have rightly highlighted the Lord's particular compassion for women, and today's dual story fits the pattern. In fact, in none of the Gospels does the Lord utter a sharp word toward a woman. He shows kindness and compassion to women, children, gentiles, and aliens; and many of them become devout followers. His rebukes are aimed only at Jewish men -- Pharisee, Sadducees, Herodians, rabbis, priests, and levites -- because of their self-righteousness and not for who they are.

Some feminists might object to this story's being ranked with other incidents of the Lord's compassion for the anawim. But we overlook the forest for the trees if we miss Saint Mark's reason for linking the two stories. The trees are their many similarities; the forest is faith. Whether we're praying for someone else or praying for oneself, we come to the Lord with faith and confidence in him. 

To be healed, we must set aside our pride, our sense of entitlement, our sense of wounded victimization, and our carefully guarded dignity, and with full awareness of our sins and unworthiness, ask the Lord for mercy. We hear our desperation in the prayer of Jairus, "Please, come lay your hands on her that she may get well and live." And in the woman's sad plight, "She had suffered greatly at the hands of many doctors and had spent all that she had. Yet she was not helped but only grew worse."

As a hospital chaplain, I saw patients who were truly desperate for help and eager for prayer. And I met other patients who only felt insulted by their affliction and that something ought to be done about it. One fellow complained that when he takes his car to the garage the mechanic fixes it! Why can't the doctors fix him? "Aren't they paid better than mechanics?" 

Many patients, their families, and caregivers dismiss the mystery of sickness and human suffering, and overlook their opportunities for grace. They fixate on medicines, surgeries, therapies, and counseling; and ignore the reality of mercy. In the wilderness of suffering, they do not want to hear Isaiah's ecstatic announcement: 

See, I am doing something new!

Now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?

In the wilderness I make a way,

in the wasteland, rivers. Isaiah 43:19

Nor can they be bothered with the Lord's joyful announcement: "Behold, I make all things new!" (Rev 21:5)

They only want to get back to a normal which was never very good. 

When Jesus heals the elderly woman and Jairus's daughter, he is not sending them back to a doomed normal. He invites them into faith in God and faith in him. 

Nor does he send us into a world where the poor become powerful and the overlooked become overseers. His authority will not recognize any human authority which avenges wrongs; that is not at the service of  others, nor obedient to the needs of others, nor docile before the Holy Spirit. His vindication does not make anyone powerful by this world's standards.

I asked a young woman who suffered with a genetic affliction how she had experienced the blessings of her particular cross. Astonished by the question at first, because no one in her family or friends, nor her pastor, had ever asked it, she went on to tell me of the compassion of many dedicated health care workers, of her self-sacrificing parents, and of many companions who suffered with the same disease. Although she had not volunteered to join them, she found mercy among them, and had learned kindness for others. 

"What is needed is faith!" Jesus told the frightened Jairus. The official could not conceive of his little girl's death; he must have been overcome with grief when messengers said, "Your daughter has died." But he followed the Lord into his own house; he surrendered the child, his family, friends, and neighbors; his home and all his property to the Authority and Presence of Jesus. After shutting out all the skeptics and scoffers, he and his wife followed the Lord and his disciples into the child's room where they received their daughter back to life. 

"Eye has not seen; ear has not heard, what God has ready for those who love him." 

Because we know the man's name, we can suppose he remained among the disciples of Jesus. The Gospels do not tell us all the names of all the healed; apparently some of them disappeared despite the health they enjoyed and the wonder they had seen. Jairus and his family remained. They took their place in the Church after the crucifixion, resurrection, and ascension of the Lord. They saw something new and unheard of, and did not return to their old, "normal" way of life. 

With our lived experience and ancient memories of faith, we cannot return to the world with its threats, violence, and polarization; with its endless list of self-described victims, and its failure to own or recognize its sin and its lack of faith. 

As sinners we know we have no claim to God's mercy or justice, but we come nonetheless with our prayers, and plead with Jesus, "I do believe; help my unbelief." 

Solemnity of Saints Peter and Paul, Apostles

Mass during the Day
Lectionary:591

On the very night before Herod was to bring him to trial,
Peter, secured by double chains,
was sleeping between two soldiers,
while outside the door guards kept watch on the prison....

As Saint Luke tells the story, the small group of harassed Christians were still reeling from the martyrdom of the Apostle James, and grieving his loss, when Peter was miraculously delivered from Herod's prison and likely execution. Luke carefully lists the king's extreme measures to confine the Fisherman: four squads of four soldiers were assigned to keep him, and he slept between two guards. But his iron shackles fell off and the angel roused him. In fact, he was all but walking in his sleep as he passed through the iron gate and into the midnight streets of Jerusalem. 

God had once again taken a hand in human affairs and humiliated the best efforts of wicked men to repress the Gospel. "Why do the nations rage...." the elated Christians might have said, singing the Second Psalm:

....and the peoples conspire in vain?

Kings on earth rise up

and princes plot together

against the LORD and against his anointed one:

“Let us break their shackles

and cast off their chains from us!”

The one enthroned in heaven laughs;

the Lord derides them,

This victory, impossible for the Church but child's play in God's hands, is practically God's standard operating procedure, and we do well to expect wonderful things as we announce the Love of God and our belief in human dignity. The nations rage against the witness of the Church as they justify their wars, excessive luxuries, and culture of death. The only things opposing them are the uneasy conscience of honest men and women and our appeals for merciful care of the helpless and just treatment of the powerful. 

Toward the end of his life, as we hear in today's second reading, Saint Paul also celebrated the shielding, guiding hand of God. 

...and I was rescued from the lion’s mouth.

The Lord will rescue me from every evil threat

and will bring me safe to his heavenly Kingdom.

Hundreds of thousands of Catholics are demonstrating once again our confidence in God's presence among in human affairs as we escort the one Blessed Sacrament in procession from four different points in the United States to Indianapolis. Even devout Protestants might wonder What's that all about? 

We know the Lord is with us. Our faith in him has been confirmed and reconfirmed on many occasions. We have known his presence in the happiest moments of our lives, and been reassured of his companionship when we felt the most bewildered and confused. We have been sure of our faith when others raised their idiotic questions about right and left, up and down, male and female. We know where we stand and to whom we belong. 

 

Memorial of Saint Irenaeus, Bishop and Martyr

Lectionary: 375

When Jesus came down from the mountain, great crowds followed him. And then a leper approached, did him homage, and said,
“Lord, if you wish, you can make me clean.”
He stretched out his hand, touched him, and said,
“I will do it.  Be made clean.”

Saint Matthew transcribed this healing of the leper from Saint Mark's gospel, and tweaked it just a bit. While the leper's words are the same, the Lord's response is different. Mark's Jesus is moved with pity, and says, "I do will it." Meaning, "Of course I want to! This is why I came!" 

Matthew does not explain the Lord's motive for healing the man. If he is moved with pity, the Evangelist says nothing about Jesus's feelings, thoughts, or internal life. The phrase stresses his authority to heal the man -- "I will do it!" -- and is immediately effective. We have just heard how the crowds who heard him pronounce his Sermon on the Mount were amazed by his authority to say these things. By curing the leper he demonstrates more than his authority to teach; he also commands sickness and health, demons and angels.

As I read the Old and New Testaments, I see the same God appearing in both, and I am less impressed by the sweet, approachable images of Jesus which are so popular today. I am sure Jesus, like every man, had a sense of humor, but I don't need to see him laughing to show he's a good old boy, just one of us. I suspect the laughing, loveable Jesus is an intentional counter to the mean old god of the Old Testament, with a faint reek of antisemitism. 

The leper in both stories is driven by desperation, and perhaps by a thirst for justice because illness insults our human dignity. The Lord is not cowed by the leper's demand, nor does he intend to prove what a nice man he is. He has been sent to heal and to restore justice. He has the authority, and will do it. 

Matthew's Jesus announces the Kingdom of Heaven and describes the people who live there. They are blessed, meek, and lowly. They grieve over innumerable sorrows and demand justice from divine and human authorities. Their need for mercy is frank; they know they suffer for their sins and the sins of the world, and they repent. For this reason they are holy, or "perfect," as God is holy and perfect. 

They have a holy fear of God and approach the Lord with reverence. Jesus does not come across like everybody's best buddy. His authority to teach and heal radiates before him like a freighter's bow wave, and they keep a respectful distance. The disciples ordinarily maintain a respectful distance from Matthew's Jesus; and Peter acts as the spokesman for the disciples as Aaron represented the people to Moses. 

And they are astonished when he blesses children and insists that they come to him without fear. If children have yet to learn how adults conduct themselves in solemn moments and holy places, their need and curiosity make them worthy to approach the Man from Galilee. But adults don't act like children in his presence. 

It used to be said, "Jesus taught adults and played with children; but priests teach children and play with adults." In the 1950's and 60's, they had time for bowling leagues, softball games, and schmoozing at cocktail and pool parties. As a seminarian, and then as a young priest, I was sometimes concerned that people would "put me on a pedestal" and not understand that I am a human being too. I got over that. I expect adults to act like adults in my presence; we can share sober moments, serious conversations, and the humor that enables fellowship and makes it enjoyable. I might not be a great man, but I hope I am not a great guy. 

I hope that Catholics are ready to move beyond the sophomoric notions of an Old Testament bearded, vindictive, punishing god and a New Testament sweet, unfailingly nice childman who wouldn't say a (bad word) if his mouth was full of (it.)  We're facing a world that is seriously, wilfully sinful, and not just sick, that is careening into self-destruction. We represent a serious promise of hope for those individuals, corporations, and nations who are ready to acknowledge their sins and turn back to the Lord's merciful justice. 

Thursday of the Twelfth Week in Ordinary Time

Lectionary: 374

Everyone who listens to these words of mine and acts on them will be like a wise man who built his house on rock.... 
And everyone who listens to these words of mine
but does not act on them
will be like a fool who built his house on sand.

Zorastrianism has been called the oldest organized religion, and the progenitor of all other religious beliefs. The Persian prophet Zoraster taught that there are two ways to live, two routes to take: the way of good and the way of evil. While every human action has multiple consequences, some beneficial and others detrimental, our vindication is determined by our good and evil choices. Founders, prophets, and teachers of every subsequent religion recognize that principle of the two ways. And Jesus echoes it in today's selection from the Sermon on the Mount. 

His teaching also reflects the Jewish understanding of wisdom and foolishness. Wisdom comes from God. Jewish proverbs describe her as God's daughter and companion in his building projects. 

“The LORD begot me, the beginning of his works,
the forerunner of his deeds of long ago;
From of old I was formed,
at the first, before the earth....
When he fixed the foundations of earth,
then was I beside him as artisan;
I was his delight day by day,
playing before him all the while,
Playing over the whole of his earth,
having my delight with human beings.
Now, children, listen to me;
happy are they who keep my ways. (Proverbs 8: 22-23, 30-32)

Foolishness is wicked. If wicked people enjoy success, popularity, and prosperity, they are nonetheless fools, reprehensible and doomed. 

Americans have a similar sense about foolishness. We despise it and remind one another, "There's no cure for stupid." 

I often recall the Grail translation of Psalm 37: vs35 --

I have seen the wicked one triumphant, 
towering like a cedar of Lebanon. 
I passed by again; he was gone. 
I searched; he was nowhere to be found.

The Lord's metaphor of houses built on rock or sand, representing virtue and wickedness, applies equally to individuals, families, churches, corporations, cities, and nations. It is especially appropriate and comes immediately to mind when we consider the deterioration of our roads, bridges, buildings, and cities. Infrastructure is necessarily expensive, time-consuming, and complex. Everyone has many opinions about every major project, its urgency, worth, and how it should be accomplished. Many people think their suggestions should be taken seriously -- even as "the Gospel truth!" -- and that anyone who disagrees is either stupid or wicked or both. Even when the project is completed and successful, naysayers will insist it should have been done differently, or wasn't necessary in the first place. 

Conversations about infrastructure are necessarily political because they involve many people and all levels of society. Everyone must make sacrifices to build and maintain infrastructure, and the sacrifices are invariably apportioned unequally. 

The principle of infrastructure also proves that the two ways are more than the measures of an individual; they apply also to the aforementioned families, churches, corporations, cities, and nations. Communities are vindicated or condemned by the standards of wisdom and foolishness, goodness and evil. 

The Christian faithful hope that our participation in public decisions are both wise and welcome; and we pray that the Lord might recognize our personal testimony to wisdom even when the results were unfortunate, foolish, and evil. We will continue to champion the dignity of every human being as political decisions are made, and when some are made badly. And we pray that God will show mercy to fools. 

Wednesday of the Twelfth Week in Ordinary Time

Lectionary: 373

Standing by the column, the king made a covenant before the LORD
that they would follow him
and observe his ordinances, statutes and decrees
with their whole hearts and souls,
thus reviving the terms of the covenant
which were written in this book.
And all the people stood as participants in the covenant.

Historian differ about the meaning of today's text from 2 Kings. Jerusalem was a city like any other, with many non-natives who had come as merchants, traders, entrepreneurs, and migrants. Many worshiped the God of Israel but not all, and they generally agreed to respect their religious diversity. The reforming King Josiah won the approval of those prophets who were faithful to the Lord (YHWH) and opposed to the priests and prophets of Baal. 

His reforms were based on a recently rediscovered text which may have been the Book of Deuteronomy. Or perhaps, the text had been recently amassed from earlier writings and edited, and was then promoted as the long-lost Law of Moses. In either case, the time was ripe for a return to the true faith of God's Holy City. No religion can avoid misunderstandings of its traditions and misinterpretations of its sacred rituals; any religion worth its salt needs an occasional return to its roots.

I have seen more than a few reforms sweep through the Catholic and Protestant religions in my own lifetime. The first set followed the Second Vatican Council, an event which will probably be regarded by future historians as one of two or three greatest reforms in Church history. It has been followed by lesser movements like the Charismatic renewal, Cursillistas, Marriage Encounter, Teens Encounter Christ, and so forth. There are the efforts of Pope Francis's synodality and the renewed devotion to the Blessed Sacrament. The Protestant world is in continual upheaval; some are calling our time another "Great Awakening." Beyond the Catholic Church are movements like Alcoholics Anonymous and its innumerable Twelve Step imitators; and the alarm caused by extinctions and the deterioration of the Earth's habitable climate. 

We must always repent because our sins and sinful tendencies are persistent if not genetic. And God's mercy is also persistent. His Spirit shows itself both in the reforms and the reactions they meet. The Holy Spirit is rightly compared to breath, and when we stop breathing we die. Nor will any reform wait until someone dies; you and I must be challenged like everyone else, regardless of our grey hairs. 

Tuesday of the Twelfth Week in Ordinary Time

Lectionary: 372

“Enter through the narrow gate;
for the gate is wide and the road broad that leads to destruction,
and those who enter through it are many.
How narrow the gate and constricted the road that leads to life.
And those who find it are few.”

The story was told among seminarians of the old, retired priest who prayed daily for "perseverance in my vocation." The younger men wondered what the old fellow was worried about. Didn't he have it made in the shade by now? 

Having attained the status of semi-retired -- which is to say, as busy as my energy will allow and opportunities present -- I find the challenges of faith and communal life still daunting. And opportunities to slack off remain. By this time, I can't reasonably expect much in the way of self-improvement; it's mostly maintenance against the inevitable, with frequent slippages and less-than-complete recoveries. 

I remember conversations with patients in the hospital who had, through frequent alcohol abuse, brought dementia upon themselves. They often suffered severe loneliness and daunting questions about the meaning and purpose of their life. But, despite their intense feelings and intelligent questions, they could no longer receive reassurance or encouragement, much less participate in meaningful spiritual conversation. And most had access to guns. 

And I've known friars who rarely used alcohol or nicotine, but they also slipped into dementia. Their interests were few; and their conversations, circular. They didn't complain but they appeared helpless, intellectually and spiritually. Perhaps they were passing through the narrow gate all unawares, as the rest of us watched helplessly. 

This growing old in America is tiresome business. The elderly hope to burden no one but are not so able or eager to carry the burdens of others. Prayer may be satisfying, but that was never the purpose of prayer. Isn't there something more? If, as C.S.Lewis said, "God is easily pleased but difficult to satisfy," we wonder what more we should do. 

The Lord urges us to pass through the narrow gate; but, despite Woody Guthrie's song, you don't have to walk through it by yourself. We walk hand in hand with the Lord, with our dear Mother Mary, the saints and martyrs, and many lovely people in our church. If we feel lonely, we are in good company with many lonely individuals, and always with the Lord. 

Solemnity of the Nativity of Saint John the Baptist

Lectionary: 587

Hear me, O coastlands, listen, O distant peoples. The LORD called me from birth, from my mother’s womb he gave me my name.
He made of me a sharp-edged sword and concealed me in the shadow of his arm.

So many prophets in the Bible speak of their being given a name and a mission from birth that we might suppose that is the way God calls everyone. I think of Jeremiah, John the Baptist, and Jesus. There is also Samson and Samuel.

The naming of a child, like the naming of John the Baptist, is still one of the most important ceremonies for religious and secular parents. Today's reveal parties usually include the naming of the approaching infant. As soon as they know the baby's gender they can choose an appropriate name. 

In our Catholic tradition, our baptismal names indicate our belonging to God. The tradition recalls the renaming of Abram and Sarai when the LORD elected them as Abraham and Sarah to be the progenitors of his Holy People. (An Adventist website recalls several biblical persons who were renamed for differing reasons.) 

I understand that porpoises whistle continually to each other as they swim in a herd. Scientists believe each is identifying themself with that signature sound, though they do not respond by calling each other by their apparent names. A mother porpoise calls repeatedly so that her calves recognize her name and cling to her. 

Our names place us in society. "In the desert, you can't remember your name" because an isolated person needs no name and may lose their sense of purpose and worth. Because the name is identity, we take it very seriously. If, unlike the porpoises, we speak to, and of, each other with names, it's because humans must continually recognize the existential standing of every person. Your mother knows your name, and that there's no one in the universe like you. 

Citizens of a nation deeply committed to individualism struggle with the concept of identity. Some young people are told they can find their identity in isolation and apartness. They leave home, occupations, and opportunities in search of themselves. Some attempt to leave their past behind with the names they were given at birth, but they will suffer the loss until they go back and reclaim it. 

We find our identity within the Lord and his Church; it's tucked in among the names our loved one call us, and the responsibilities we have as parents, catechists, lectors, ushers, Eucharistic ministers, acolytes, deacons, monks, friars, priests, bishops, and so forth. We are disciples called to sanctity. And when the day comes, the Lord will call each of us by name as he called, "Lazarus, Come out of that tomb!" 

The naming of John the Baptist signalled a new age in human history. His family knew it; his parents were pleased but his kinfolk were upset. A long awaited messianic age had begun; it was accompanied by restored hope and spectacular opportunities to know the Lord of Heaven and Earth in the person, and by the name, of Jesus. 

Twelfth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Lectionary: 95

They woke him and said to him, “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” He woke up, rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, “Quiet!  Be still!”

As Saint Mark describes the Lord's disciples, they understood neither him, nor his teaching, nor his mission. They were drawn to him by his call; but had anyone asked, "Why are you following him?" they would have been stumped for an answer. "Because he called me" must pass for an explanation. 

Ordinarily, his disciples were overawed or wonder-struck by his presence; when he ask them if they understood his sign, teaching or parable, they were clueless. In chapter 10, the Saint Mark describes a typical moment, 

"They were on the way, going up to Jerusalem, and Jesus went ahead of them. They were amazed, and those who followed were afraid."

What did they expect would happen in Jerusalem? It might be a historic triumph like the ousting of Rome with its army and its nuisance governors. It might be an apocalyptic coming of the Son of Man as Lord of the Universe. He would establish Jerusalem as the Capital of an empire spanning the entire World!  

Or it might be a debacle, a foiled revolution and slaughter of everyone who dared to think that the Roman Empire should go away. His disciples can only follow in mute obedience, hoping against hope that something good might come of it.   

When they do make something of him, they get it totally wrong. On one occasion, two of them mustered the courage to speak to him. 

"James and John, the sons of Zebedee, came to him and said to him, “Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you.”

If this were a stage play, he would turn aside to the audience and say, "Don't you love these guys?"

In today's gospel however, the disciples forget their Holy Fear as they rouse him from sleep. "Don't you care that we are perishing?" they scream at him over the roar of the storm. But, predictably, he has the last laugh as he commands the sea and storm to "Knock it off!" 

And then, "Why are you terrified?" he says to his boys, “Do you not yet have faith?”

But their distress and alarm had, in a sense, driven them to a moment of faith. They believed enough to wake him up and beg for his help. What they expected him to do was beyond anyone's comprehension. They could not suppose that he had everything under control. It was not like lighting a candle when a tornado has been spotted; it was not a quiet Hail Mary before the final exam. It was a last hope, and a terrified plea, "Do something!" 

When he woke up and finally addressed the sea and storm and waves, his command sounds very familiar, "Be still!" He said the same thing when a demoniac accosted him. "Quiet! Come out of him!" and the demon had no choice but to desert the wretched man. 

It may be God's most familiar quote. It's his battle cry when he fights for his people. We hear it in Psalm 46: 

Come and see the works of the LORD, / who has done fearsome deeds on earth;
Who stops wars to the ends of the earth, / breaks the bow, splinters the spear,
and burns the shields with fire; / “Be still and know that I am God!
I am exalted among the nations, / exalted on the earth.”
The LORD of hosts is with us; /our stronghold is the God of Jacob. Psalm 46:10-12

Every disciple submits to the Lord's command; at first, occasionally; and then habitually; and finally completely and continually. But, unlike the demons, the storm, and the sea we come to God with joy, gratitude, and relief. 

Here is one whom we can trust, who has proven his worth and is trustworthy. Everyone has known betrayal. As children we expected and needed much from those around us; first of our parents and family, then, of other adults, and friends, and fellow citizens. But we have been disappointed. Perhaps we have even complained about God's apparent abandonment, as if he too has betrayed us. 

Sinful people that we are, we undertake projects and never ask if this is what God wants for us. With our feverish and fertile imagination, we create expectations, and then desires, and then needs, and finally rights to have our fantastic expectations fulfilled -- in abundance and superabundance. If only...! If only the world would serve us! If only everyone would serve me we could all be so happy! If only my dreams would come true. “Fairy tales can come true; they can happen to you….” 

The Lord in his mercy sometimes threatens us with the consequences of what we have done without him. Our unsinkable Titanic capsizes under his irresistible natural force. And then, in our desperation, we turn to him crying,  “Teacher, don’t you care that we are perishing?”

God cannot resist the prayer of the helpless. He hears our prayers when we admit utter and total defeat. When we confess our foolishness, He comes to save us. And we hear, for once in our lives, a Voice that speaks not only to the wind and sea and storm, but to every man, woman, and child. “Be still and know that I am God. Supreme among the nations, supreme on the earth.”

Optional Memorial of martyred Saints John Fisher and Thomas More

English Martyrs in defense of Marriage

Lectionary: 370

Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life,
what you will eat or drink,
or about your body, what you will wear.
Is not life more than food and the body more than clothing?
Look at the birds in the sky...

King Joash listened to the princes and with them forsook the temple of the LORD. 

We heard yesterday of Joash's being hidden in the temple for several years before Queen Jehoida was ousted and slain. But the young prince had not learned in his hiding to trust in the Lord. He was easily guided by the corrupt princes who supported him. 

Joash led like many of today's elected office holders who study the polls intensely. Appointed as leaders, they do not lead; they are driven by fear and ambition, and deaf to God's law and the Church's teachings about human dignity. They give consumers and their wealthy patrons what they want regardless of long-term consequences. Those who hesitate to follow the polls are immediately reminded that they can be replaced by more compliant "leaders." 

Their  corruption begins, of course, with the electorate who cynically believe that "all politicians are corrupt." A democracy can represent only its people; they get the leadership they deserve. Their so-called leaders reflect the avarice, greed, and infidelity of their supporters.

Today' Gospel speaks to that group, to those who may not see themselves as powerful, and have no apparent ambitions for political office. Their anxiety makes a difference; their lack of faith in God shapes their world. 

The Lord urges them, "...store up treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor decay destroys, nor thieves break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there also will your heart be." 

Today's "treasure" is credit. It's freely given to the vulnerable young whose background and education forecast a future of substantial income and market-driven spending. They will want more than they can afford, and dream of things they do not need. They will put off having children, or have no children; for children only sap the resources of young adults and offer little promise of future return on investment. As they use and amass ample credit, they will be forever in debt. 

Perhaps the Lord rewords his advice for today's democratic consumer: "Store up credit in heaven which is built on God's providence. In that place, neither corrupt politicians nor greedy capitalists can drain your energy, generosity, and trust." 

"Look at the birds in the sky!"

There's not as many as there were before the onset of industrial waste and pollution, and many species have disappeared, but they still trust in God's providence. 

...they do not sow or reap, they gather nothing into barns, yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are not you more important than they?"

"While we have time, let us do good!" Saint Francis urged his friars. There are still birds in the air, and grasses still grow abundantly in the empty lots of our cities and the cracks in our sidewalks. We still have time to learn from Earth's vitality to follow God's moral leadership and invest with dignity in generosity, compassion, and courage.

Memorial of Saint Aloysius Gonzaga, Religious

Lectionary: 369

Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth,
where moth and decay destroy, and thieves break in and steal.
But store up treasures in heaven,
where neither moth nor decay destroys, nor thieves break in and steal.
For where your treasure is, there also will your heart be.

Athaliah's is not a happy story, but it might serve to illustrate today's Gospel. The pagan daughter of King Ahab, a worshipper of Baal,  seized power as queen of Judah in Jerusalem; and in the same daring move ordered her henchmen to murder several legitimate descendants of King David, each with some claim to his throne. However, one child, Joash, was hidden among the mazes of the temple -- a building more complicated than the Phantom's Opera House. 

When the time was right, probably because the populace was tired of eight years of corrupt rule and royal idolatry, the teen was revealed and acclaimed by loyal soldiers. The unhappy Athaliah was immediately despatched by the sword. 

Devout worshippers of God -- Jews, Christians, and Muslims -- are urged to commit their lives and energies to more stable, less volatile enterprises. Whether we're speaking of positions of power like Athaliah's, property, or money, they all depend on the worth others put in them. The value of a dollar shifts by the hour; property can be destroyed by violent weather, fire, earthquake, or a dozen other natural disasters; and positions of power mean no more than what others think they mean. Humans enact laws and make contracts to shore up the worth of all their stuff, but no contract lasts forever, and many don't last at all. Any two-bit lawyer can challenge them in court and render them worthless. 

Ordinary reflection suggests that we invest our energies in that which lasts into eternity. We have seen believers in Baal and other idols; along with their comrades who idolized the State (fascists, Nazis, communists, nationalists); and ideologues who swear by their opinions (on which they can never agree); and those Christians who pick and choose, mix and match their doctrines: all those who invest in human values go down into the dust. 

We believe in the eternal invitation offered by the God who abides with us eternally, who remains with us in the person of Jesus. Under his governance we know how to own and disown the world's stuff. 

Thursday of the Eleventh Week in Ordinary Time

 Lectionary: 368

Like a fire there appeared the prophet Elijah
whose words were as a flaming furnace.....
Then Elisha, filled with the twofold portion of his spirit,
wrought many marvels by his mere word. During his lifetime he feared no one,nor was any man able to intimidate his will.
Nothing was beyond his power....

Jesus and his Evangelists compare the Prophets Elijah and Elisha to Saint John the Baptist. Like the ancient prophets, the ascetic in the Jordan Valley scolded the Pharisees and Sadducees when they dared to approach him for baptism. They presumed to say, "We have God as our father" but he declared, "God can raise up children to Abraham from these stones. [Implying, he has no need for you, and no use!] Even now the ax lies at the root of the trees."

However, with all due to respect to the Baptist, we can easily recognized Elijah and Elisha as Old Testament types of Jesus; and when we study their lives and hear Sirach's praise of them, we recognize the glory that will be discovered with all the more intensity in the Son of God. 

On three occasions Jesus brought the dead back to life from the nether world, by the will of the LORD. They included a little girl, a widow's son, and his friend Lazarus; not to mention himself! He anointed Peter as his vicar and not his successor, for he remains as ruler and king.  

Elijah was taken aloft with a whirlwind of fire in a chariot with fiery horses. Jesus soared into heaven entirely on his own, and took his seat at God's right hand. 

When these two prophets demonstrated enormous authority over kings and tyrants, Jesus declares, "All power in heaven and on earth has been given to me." 

As Elijah was expected to return, the Lord is "destined... in time to come to put an end to wrath before the day of the LORD, to turn back the hearts of fathers toward their sons, and to establish" the Kingdom of God.

As Elisha's grave was disturbed by Moabites but his healing power remained in his bones, so the Lord's tomb was disturbed by his vacating it -- with healing power and even more wonder. 

Finally, Sirach declared of Elijah and Elisha, 

Blessed is he who shall have seen you 
And who falls asleep in your friendship.
For we live only in our life,
but after death our name will not be such.

Of Jesus we can say, "Blessed are they who shall see him, and all those who fall asleep in his friendship." For we live only in our life for a while, but long after our death -- when the Earth itself will have forgotten that we ever disturbed its dust -- he will call us by name from the dirt to meet him in heaven with Mary, the angels, and all the saints. 

Wednesday of the Eleventh Week in Ordinary Time

photo from Whispering Springs Nat'l Park

north of Las Cruces, looking south to Mexico

 Lectionary: 367

Elisha answered, “May I receive a double portion of your spirit.”
“You have asked something that is not easy,” Elijah replied.
“Still, if you see me taken up from you,
your wish will be granted; otherwise not.”

A young man and an older man walk together. The younger is eager; the elder is tired and broken. They share a mission but the elder must retire and the younger must take up the mission. It cannot fail. 

He asks and receives a double measure of the elder's spirit. Spirit can be a hard thing to manage, and harder to generate. A coach, seeing that his team is losing because they're playing listlessly, must immediately intuit the problem, address it effectively, and change their attitudes. 

He has to use his position of authority to overcome the losing spirit that has overcome them. He might be aggressive, imposing, or threatening; he must get through their resistance and occupy a sacred space within their hearts, or minds, or whatever you call it, so that each one will let go of their attitude and accept his. 

But if some lack the willingness to obey; if they have neither fear of nor respect for the coach; if they will not set aside their feelings and opinions: they lose. 

I watched a basketball team lose because they believed they had suffered a single bad call from the referee. I had accompanied them only as a pastor; they had no coach and their captain was as angry about the call as the rest of his buddies. During the half I could not persuade them to forget about the one call, and get back into the game. They lost not because of one bad call in the first half of the game, but because they believed they'd been treated unjustly. If they were right -- and who can judge that when there is only one referee and no recorded video? -- they were "dead right." But mostly they were dead.

On the other hand, a scoreboard loss can be a win. I remember a Startrek episode in which our stellar boys and girls were pitted in a baseball game against a team of androids. As expected, they lost 1000-0, but they did manage to get one player on base! They were overjoyed, while the androids hung their metal heads in shame. Our crew might not have won the game but they savored their victory nonetheless. 

Elijah readily ceded his authority and his spirit to Elisha; he gave them with the mantle that fell to the ground. When the old prophet disappeared, Elisha readily wrapped it around his own shoulders, and was immediately recognized by his fellow prophets. 

The Church, like Elijah, suffers innumerable setbacks and many discouraging disappointments. She always has her back to the wall, but she is never defeated. The Spirit of God can raise disciples to the Lord from these very stones. I have met so many zealous, well-informed converts to Catholicism I sometimes wonder if they may be the majority of practicing Catholics. They seem to appear in every gathering although we never ask for a show of hands. 

Yesterday I read an article in a self-described Catholic magazine which seems to have gone to the dark side of several controversies. They have bought into Marxist ideology which views humanity through a lens of oppressed and oppressors; and their oppressors are -- you guessed it! -- the leaders of the Catholic Church. A title declares, in effect, "As the Church has always said...." when it never said anything of the sort. They bandy neologisms as if everyone knows, or should know what they're talking about; and dare anyone to challenge their righteousness. They certainly have spirit, but it's not the Spirit of God. It's very distressing. 

I read it yesterday but I woke up this morning ready to worship the Lord of Elijah, Elisha, John the Baptist, and Jesus. The Lord does not forsake his people despite the huzzahing of his foes. 

Tuesday of the Eleventh Week in Ordinary Time

 Lectionary: 366

Then the LORD said to Elijah the Tishbite,
"Have you seen that Ahab has humbled himself before me?
Since he has humbled himself before me,
I will not bring the evil in his time.
I will bring the evil upon his house during the reign of his son."

Ahab is remembered as one of the more despicable royal heirs of David's throne. And though he humbled himself before God and Elijah, he was not fondly remembered. Melville resurrected the name to describe a monomaniacal, self-righteous sea captain whose messianic pursuit of evil drove him and his whalers to a fatal encounter with it. King Ahab's infamous, but colorful wife lives on with appearances in Revelation, biblical paintings, movies, and popular music. 

Elijah's ominous prophecy -- that the consequences of his evil deeds would survive him -- deserves some reflection. Some time later, Isaiah made a similar promise of doom to Hezekiah. The king invited an embassy from Babylon to inspect his treasury. They might have been impressed, but they certainly remembered that Jerusalem would be worth pillaging when the time came. (Which they did 150 years later.) 

Then Isaiah said to Hezekiah, 

“Hear the word of the LORD of hosts: the time is coming when all that is in your house, everything that your ancestors have stored up until this day, shall be carried off to Babylon; nothing shall be left, says the LORD. Some of your own descendants, your progeny, shall be taken and made attendants in the palace of the king of Babylon.” 

Hezekiah replied to Isaiah, “The word of the LORD which you have spoken is good.”  For he thought, “There will be peace and stability in my lifetime.”

Isaiah had an eye to the distant future and worried about the king's foolishness. But the politician Hezekiah worried only about the moment. He might have replied in his best King James fashion, "Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof." 

We're told that those who ignore history are doomed to repeat it. But I think, those who ignore the moral code, who violate human dignity, whether legal or not, invite doom upon themselves and their descendants. The study of history can be very selective. Defense minded persons recall military defeats and conquests. Idealogues rewrite history summoning obscure, irrelevant, and uncertain events to support their outlandish visions. Righteous people honor their ancestors' honest hard work,  and thank God as they squander their present entitlements. 

But those who fear the Lord observe his moral code in season and out of season. They remember hardships and blessings, and that the Lord remains with his people always. They know that hard times are not necessarily punishment; nor are good times a reward for good behavior. The end is always near and always remote. It is not so soon that we should eat, drink, and be merry for tomorrow we die. Nor it is so distant that we can ignore it altogether. 

They know the Lord is always near, and they delight in his presence. 

Monday of the Eleventh Week in Ordinary Time

 Lectionary: 365

"You have heard that it was said,
An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.
But I say to you, offer no resistance to one who is evil.

The law of talion is associated with honor and the principle of vendetta; and it's binding, meaning an injured party must seek revenge. An orphaned son or grieving brother must pursue the killer of one's father or brother and kill him. 

Despite Jesus's greater authority talion is still with us. We see it among criminal gangs and appearing in America's partisan politics. We see it in children on the playground when they immediately hit back another child for an injury they've suffered, even if it was accidental. Sometimes, comically, the angry child will strike the table on which he's just bumped his head. Apparently, he has to do it! It's the law. 

Shakespeare's Hamlet was commanded by King Hamlet's ghost to avenge his father, even if it meant killing the uncle who is also his mother's new husband. Orpheus, son of Agamemnon, was compelled to kill his father's slayer, but unfortunately Clytemnestra was his mother. We hear of that principle also in gang warfare on American streets and prisons. 

Our civilizing Greek ancestors, who first experimented with democracy, posed the system of courts and judges as an alternative to the law of talion. Aeschylus's Oresteian Trilogy pondered the insane compulsion of talion and its resolution when the city of Athens took upon itself the decision to avenge injustice or choose clemency. The Furies, confident of Orestes' right to kill, demanded revenge but agreed to the trial. When they were disappointed by the jury's decision, they pursued the young man for the rest of his life. (Even while I was reading the book several years ago, a man met his daughter's killer at the airport when the FBI returned him to Minnesota, and murdered him.)

The law of talion has bound humanity since its conception. And Jesus has set us free. One person's evil act does not mean that the wronged party must do anything. 

When someone strikes you on your right cheek,
turn the other one to him as well.

We have seen this most clearly demonstrated in the Resurrection of Jesus. Talion said he. like Hamlet's father, came back from the dead to avenge his killers. And the Lord's list was long; it included Pontius Pilate, Caiphus, Annas, and the Sanhedrin. But there was also Judas, Peter, and the cowardly disciples. And the Roman empire and the Jewish religion. And, for that matter, all humanity. Which of us has not contributed their share of violence to an innocent man's death? 

But the Lord has set us free. We do not avenge the death of Jesus. We need not strike back at anyone for doing us harm. And if we choose to do so, we cannot justify it in the name of Jesus. He does not stand behind us in our anger. In fact, his "but I say to you..." stands between us and our enemies. 

For freedom Christ set us free; so stand firm and do not submit again to the yoke of slavery. (Galatians 5:1)

 

Eleventh Sunday in Ordinary Time

Lectionary: 92

With many such parables
he spoke the word to them as they were able to understand it.
Without parables he did not speak to them,
but to his own disciples he explained everything in private.

Jesus uses his parables as a litmus test for his followers. Those who understand belong to him; those who do not are only confused. His bewildered but eager disciples frequently ask the meaning of his parables. If they don't understand him or his mission, they are fascinated by his teaching and by his personal presence and they want to know more. 

The Lord's disciples do not go away when he gives them hard, challenging teachings. They see people who pick and choose what they want to believe leaving in droves. But the faithful remain with the Church and the Lord. 

Saint Peter spoke for us when Jesus asked, "Will you also leave?" The first pope replied,

"Master, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and are convinced that you are the Holy One of God.”

Our understanding of the Lord's teachings begins with our trust in him. Many of us have known him all our lives, and are convinced that nations rise and fall, technologies appear and disappear, new ideologies develop and atrophy, but the Word of the Lord endures forever. 

Some of us were raised in a Christian household but disowned the faith for a while; we experimented with strange teachings and weird ideas. Or we thought we needed only our friends and our work; the rest of the world would take care of itself. They call it utopian individualism: “If you do your thing and I do my thing and everybody does their things, it will all mesh together like a well oiled machine and everyone will be happy!” That’s a bizarre creed, a fantasy from Never-Never Land by any standard. 

And some people just don’t care; they want to have fun and do what they want. "Eat, drink, and be merry; for tomorrow we die." 

When those experiments fail some of us have played with alcohol or drugs, or gambling, or sexual promiscuity. But nothing satisfies. Things that seem to work for others don’t work for us. We find no place in the very world where we’re born. Despairing of those pursuits, we think we must live only to survive another day; and then some of us consider suicide. Millions die because they cannot answer the question, "Why should I not kill myself?"

But you and I remain through all the difficult years, or we have returned to our faith in Jesus. And we are ready to be instructed; and we are ready to understand. Jesus is the Word of God made flesh. And so we ask him to explain his parables. 

Catholics do not pick and choose what we want to believe. Our religion may be a museum of endless, wonderful stories, devotions, and mysteries to be explored; but it's not a cafeteria of curious facts or fascinating ideas. When we hear a truth that we do not understand, that may be controversial or troubling, that doesn't fit popular notions of what God should say or how Christians should act, we ask for, and listen to, an explanation.

The world tells us that abortion is necessary; that we must kill some people; that there will always be warfare between races, religions, cultures, and economies. They tell us we can choose our sexual preference and gender. You can be anything you want to be! And you should be all that you can be! 

They tell us that we cannot control ourselves and must control our childbearing with surgery and chemicals. That self-discipline is repression, and “God save us from repression!” They tell us that everyone should decide how and when they will die; and there are doctors ready to put them down like injured horses. 

But we're fascinated by Jesus and by his parables; and when he leads us to a deserted place away from the nonsense, a place where he will teach us his way, we follow him. 

When the angel told Mary she would be the Mother of the Messiah, she asked, "How can this be since I do not know man?" We also might ask, ”How can this be?” when we hear the gospel’s challenge. And the answer might be the same: 

"The holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you." 

The Lord’s parables and our Catholic teaching invite thoughtful conversation, deep reflection, contemplation, and maturity. We teach our children how to be Catholic adults, and not how to think like children all their life. 

Wisdom grows in us like the Lord's mustard seed and Ezekiel's tree in today's first reading. Wisdom pushes nonsense out of our heads: 

For the Lord has planted his Church as a tree... 

...on a high and lofty mountain.

We put forth branches and bear fruit,

and become a majestic cedar.

Birds of every kind dwell within us,

every winged thing in the shade of our boughs.

And all the trees of the field shall know

that the LORD

brings low the high tree,

lifts high the lowly tree,

withers the green tree,

and makes the withered tree bloom.

For the mouth of the LORD has spoken, and so he will do.