Feast of Saint Thomas, Apostle

Lectionary: 593

“Have you come to believe because you have seen me?
Blessed are those who have not seen and have believed.”

Yesterday I wrote ominously about God's warnings and punishment of his people when they are unfaithful. His word remains forever; he does not permit the option for divorce to himself or anyone else. But when blessings and promises fail, and warnings fall on deaf ears, the only recourse is punishment. 

However, when we learn to accept threats as blessings and to recognize punishment as privilege, we not only understand the Lord's ways so much better. We also enjoy the benevolent mercy of God regardless of what happens. 

The Letter to the Hebrews reminds us of that peculiar privilege: 

My son, do not disdain the discipline of the Lord
or lose heart when reproved by him;
for whom the Lord loves, he disciplines;
he scourges every son he acknowledges.

We call it tough love. Its administration might be mild for toddlers who bawl when deprived of dessert or told to sit in the corner; it might be more severe for the callous teenager who is grounded for a week, or the treacherous young adult who is turned out of his room and must couch surf to survive, but it's necessary in every case, and always an expression and proof of love. 

Anyone who reads the Scriptures finds many stories of God's intense, passionate love for his feckless people. Anyone who thinks that God should neither rebuke nor punish has been sadly misinformed; their notion of love is Disneyland nonsense. 

Saint Thomas was delighted by the Lord's rebuke. He was privileged to touch the Lord's risen body: "Put your finger here and see my hands, and bring your hand and put it into my side..." Jesus had never been so familiar with any other disciple. 

Astonished, he uttered the truest and final word of the Fourth Gospel, "My Lord and my God!" He knew the Lord in that moment as no disciple had ever known him. He spoke a truth deeper than every other human expression. 

Tuesday of the Thirteenth Week in Ordinary Time

Lectionary: 378

Hear this word, O children of Israel, that the Lord pronounces over you,
over the whole family that I brought up from the land of Egypt:
You alone have I favored,
more than all the families of the earth;
Therefore I will punish you
for all your crimes....

When Saint Francis sent his first followers to several Italian towns to invite others to their joyful way of life, one of them asked him, "When people ask, 'Who are you?' what should we say?" 

Obviously, he didn't say, "We're Franciscans!" That would have shut down the entire experiment then and there. Nor did he say, "We're Little Brothers or Friars Minor." That idea would come later. 

He replied, "We are penitents from Assisi."

That was the first name of his worldwide community of celibate men, women, and laity. Hearing this story before I was ordained aroused a lifelong curiosity about penance. What is it? How do we practice it? Why do so few Catholics approach the Sacrament of Penance as they had? It seemed that someone pulled the plug and a vast pool of grace emptied overnight. 

When I was asked a few months ago to present a mini-retreat on the topic of penance, I jumped at the chance. I am not sure the group shared my enthusiasm. 

I had to begin by saying, "I will probably not address your questions like, 'How should we teach second graders about the Sacrament?' I might not say anything about why we must confess to a priest, and not a layperson. I might say something about the Examination of Conscience, but I will not go through the Ten Commandments one by one. Rather, I want to address the fundamental issue of penance." 

And so I began with the principle we hear in today's harangue from the Prophet Amos, "You alone have I favored!"

That's a thorny issue for many people. Conformists don't want to be set apart from the crowd, unless it's on their own terms. They might accept recognition for their talents and achievements; they might accept flattery for their good looks, respectable family, or wealth. But they don't want to be known as favored by God. 

They don't believe God should favor anyone. "All men are created equal!" they recite like good school children. Given that indoctrination, it's hard to swallow the Judaeo-Christian doctrine of election or grace. 

And yet, American Catholics are willing to recognize Jesus as unique, and his Mother as particularly blessed. We call her "the Blessed Mother;" and her son, "the Son of God." 

But his disciples don't deserve any particular recognition. The Gospels even show us how sinful they were! One betrayed him, another denied him, and they all fled when he was arrested. (Except the women who followed at a distance.)

 

Once we are safely removed from "You alone have I favored," we can also ignore Hosea's prophetic warning, "...therefore I will punish you for all your crimes." Neither divine utterance seems to apply to us. 

We feel no particular responsibility for our blessedness and no remorse for betraying his favor. Once we dismiss our particular blessedness, we can take credit for our talents and achievements, and pity those not so fortunate. We're assured we have no responsibility to them or for them. If they're not as prosperous or successful, it's probably their own fault. ("They chose the  wrong parents.")

However, Grace, once given, is not taken back; God's covenant, like his Word, is irrevocable. The Scriptures declare this repeatedly, despite the occasional prophetic outbursts when God almost says I will divorce them.  More often, God declares "I will never forget you, my people!" and insists that he hates divorce!"  

Catholics should understand this, especially those who love their children and parents. The bonds of parent and child are physical, unbreakable, undeniable; they often appear to us when we glance in the mirror and see the resemblances to both parents. The flesh of Jesus is as real as his resurrection; he abides forever as a risen, glorified man. Baptised into his body, we eat his flesh with the Eucharist and are one with him eternally. 

Refusing to divorce us, God patiently calls us to turn away from sin. And if his promises of security, prosperity, and happiness, along with his manifold blessings, do not stir our readiness to turn away from sin; his punishment must get our attention. The warnings are there in scripture, and confirmed by many present ills. That many churches are locked night and day may be the mildest of his rebukes. The alcoholism, drug abuse, and suicide of loved ones must also get our attention. It doesn't take a weatherman to know which way the wind is blowing. Religion knows this, the world of STEM cannot. 

The Lord's call to Penance invites us to joy, satisfaction and fulfillment beyond comprehension. We have seen our destiny in the Resurrection of Jesus Christ. We have only to aspire to it. 

Franciscan Memorial of Saint Juniper Serra of California

 Lectionary: 377

A scribe approached and said to him,
"Teacher, I will follow you wherever you go."
Jesus answered him, "Foxes have dens and birds of the sky have nests,
but the Son of Man has nowhere to rest his head."

Several young men in Chicago are beginning their two year postulancy with the Conventual Franciscan Order this week. We hope that some of them will be led by the Lord to enter our one year novitiate in California, and then begin their professed life with us. Three years later -- if it pleases God -- they will renew their "simple vows" as solemn vows. 

I made my solemn vow "to observe the holy gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ, living in obedience without anything of our own, and in chastity" on September 4, 1971 in Saint Louis, Missouri. I've never considered getting a tattoo; these promises are etched into my heart where they make a difference. 

The postulants make neither promises nor vows as they begin their studies and life together. But I'm sure they will discover many unexpected challenges as they set out. Some may have little experience of a family meal, of sitting together for fifteen or thirty minutes after they have finished their meal, just talking about their activities and sharing memories. Some will find the adjustment difficult, and others might find it impossible. They'll be expected at five or more meals each week, and accountable for their coming and going. They will meet together each day for formal, liturgical prayers and expected to spend time daily in private prayer. They will study the history of the Franciscan Order, and be introduced to Catholic theology and spirituality. Eventually, some will travel to our holy sites in America and Europe. 

While all aspire to join the fraternity as friars, some also aspire to the priesthood. But, very likely, some of these young men will realize that entering the Franciscan Order was their idea but not the Lord's. Or perhaps, he only wants them to experience our fellowship as he has plans for each of them beyond the Order. While each man intends to spend his life with us when he makes his simple profession, the next few years may reveal another destiny.

And, of course, the friars responsible for their initiation will live with these candidates and share in their decision. The Order has a say in who joins the community, and who doesn't. We hope and pray that this communal discernment is guided by the Spirit of the Lord. While we feel compelled to fill out our numbers, especially after the attrition we've suffered since the 1960's, it's more important that we trust the Lord to decide who should belong. 

The postulants will be reminded as I was reminded, "Many are called, but few are chosen." If they cannot find the Spirit of daily prayer, if they cannot enjoy fellowship with the others, if their dreams of the future cannot include the unexpected sacrifices and vision of our Community, they should decide to go elsewhere. Or their "formators" might direct them elsewhere. 

In his will is our peace. 

In today's gospel, Jesus is affronted by several ambitious persons who think they belong to him. His reply may not be blunt as Fuggetaboutit, but he is not charmed by their starry eyed enthusiasm. 

Although the invitation is universal, no one has a right to belong, Youthful idealism and enthusiasm is not sufficient. Whether we're priests, religious, or lay, we come to the Lord only in a spirit of submission and obedience. 

I well remember a very stern voice who spoke to me many years ago, "Ken, we do it my way or not at all!" 
"Yes, Sir!" I said. And have never regretted it.