Thursday of the Fifth Week in Ordinary Time

 Lectionary: 332

He said to her, “Let the children be fed first.
For it is not right to take the food of the children
and throw it to the dogs.”
She replied and said to him,
“Lord, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s scraps.”

The Lord's initial response to the persistent pagan woman reflects a principle deep in our scriptures. It was well known to Saint Paul and the nascent Church as they set out to announce the Good News to Jews first, and then to gentiles.

Salvation History began when "the LORD said to Abram: 'Go forth from your land, your relatives, and from your father’s house to a land that I will show you."

 

Idealists -- that is, those who are devoted to the way things should be rather than they way things are -- think that God should not prefer anyone first. Everyone should be loved equally and simultaneously, just as the sun shines on the good and the bad, and the rain falls on the wicked and virtuous. (Although any farmer who owns more than a few acres can tell you how scattered showers fall differently on different fields.)

If we read the Book of Genesis literally we can see how the idealists' vision failed. God's universal love for all the children of Adam and Eve was universally ignored until He was thoroughly disgusted with the entire experiment of breathing divine life into mud. 

And so he began with Abram, and then Abram's wife Sarai, as he renamed them Abraham and Sarah. He promised that all nations to come would call them blessed: 

I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you; I will make your name great, so that you will be a blessing."

The Church continues to operate in this way as we invite everyone:

“Repent and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins; and you will receive the gift of the holy Spirit. 

Repentance, the sacraments, and solidarity with the Church are entwined like the fibers of a rope and are all the same thing. We are the people of God, the elect, heirs of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Salvation begins as we turn away from sin, set out on the Gospel Road, and invite everyone to join us. 

So the Lord's response to the pagan woman should come as no surprise. His mission was to the Jews; and though he healed people in gentile territory, he did not preach to them. Not knowing the traditions and culture of the Jews -- that is their laws, statutes, and ordinances -- his message would have been Greek to them. 

It only became clear to the disciples of Jesus after Pentecost and their missionary experience that gentiles -- and the entire world -- would want to hear the Good News of Salvation; and that his sacrificial death would redeem all nations and the Earth itself. 

Who would believe what we have heard? It is a grace and a glory beyond human comprehension, and revealed to our small brains only in digestible parts. 

Optional Memorial of Our Lady of Lourdes

 Lectionary: 330

Thus he declared all foods clean.
“But what comes out of the man, that is what defiles him.
From within the man, from his heart,
come evil thoughts, unchastity, theft, murder,
adultery, greed, malice, deceit,
licentiousness, envy, blasphemy, arrogance, folly.
All these evils come from within and they defile.”

It is easy to suppose that living an ostentatiously good life keeps one's heart pure. Food does not contaminate the soul; nor should we suppose that detoxifying foods will purify the heart. Obviously the paid influencers who promote that banality care not a whiff for the consumer's heart or soul.

"God sees the heart!" Samuel told Jesse as they looked among Jesse's sons for God's choice of an anointed ruler of Israel. 

I, the LORD, explore the mind

and test the heart,

Giving to all according to their ways,

according to the fruit of their deeds.

A partridge that broods but does not hatch

are those who acquire wealth unjustly:

In midlife it will desert them;

in the end they are only fools. Jeremiah 17:10

With all vigilance guard your heart,

for in it are the sources of life. Proverbs 4:23 

The Pharisees, who loved money, heard (Jesus' teaching) all these things and sneered at him. And he said to them, “You justify yourselves in the sight of others, but God knows your hearts; for what is of human esteem is an abomination in the sight of God. Luke 16:14-15 

Sneering comes easily to God's enemies, today as then; it will not come so readily to their lips when they see the Day of His Judgment. 

The faithful know and love the truth. We have seen saints live for it, and martyrs die for it, and we hope to follow where they have gone. We pray that the truth finds us worthy of their company. Meaning that we can do fine without the company of those who sneer at virtue, honesty, sacrifice, piety, devotion, or prayer. We shake the dust of their streets off our feet and go with the Lord. 

Memorial of Saint Scholastica, Virgin

Lectionary: 330

"Why do your disciples not follow the tradition of the elders
but instead eat a meal with unclean hands?" 
He responded,
"Well did Isaiah prophesy about you hypocrites,

as it is written:

This people honors me with their lips,
but their hearts are far from me;
In vain do they worship me,
teaching as doctrines human precepts.

The Gospels and Saint Paul often describe the devotion of the Pharisees as hypocritical lip service. They are roundly condemned for making the appearance of piety while their hearts, hidden to themselves but transparent to everyone else, are like whitened sepulchers.

The faithful of our time don't have to search very far to recognize the same hypocrisy today. It seems the entire world has lost its senses and ardently believes that appearances are the only reality; and there is nothing behind the fakery. As Archibald MacLeish suggested in his famous poem:

The End Of The World

Quite unexpectedly, as Vasserot

The armless ambidextrian was lighting

A match between his great and second toe,

And Ralph the lion was engaged in biting

The neck of Madame Sossman while the drum

Pointed, and Teeny was about to cough

In waltz-time swinging Jocko by the thumb

Quite unexpectedly the top blew off:

And there, there overhead, there, there hung over

Those thousands of white faces, those dazed eyes,

There in the starless dark, the poise, the hover,

There with vast wings across the cancelled skies,

There in the sudden blackness the black pall

Of nothing, nothing, nothing — nothing at all. 

MacLeish described the world as a circus of vulgar entertainment with its dazzled audience. When a real catastrophe happens and The End falls upon the show, there is nothing. No judgment. No appearance of God, or His Kingdom; of justice, mercy, or compassion. 

In fact, many people believe they live in such a world. They expect nothing and hope for nothing. If they want anything, it's power. But only a few have power, and those few see no reason to apply justice or mercy in their pursuit of more power. Power is its only purpose and aim, and desire its only motive. 

Living in such a world where, it seems, everyone believes in nothing, it's easy to suppose that every demonstration of kindness, mercy, or devotion is hypocritical. Even those who profess a creed suspect everyone else of hypocrisy. 

For instance. I went with Catholic friends to a rather sober Protestant service one Sunday. Familiar as I was with Black Catholic celebrations in my Louisiana congregation, I was not surprised by the formalism of this staid white church. But my friends, hearing a different style of singing and preaching, thought the entire program was phony. I had to remind them that we live in a multicultural world where people can express themselves quite differently. 

We must allow the Lord to judge, and withhold our own critical impulses. There are many good people doing much good in a world where appearances only seem to matter. What does matter is the Kingdom of God. His Mighty Works are appearing all around us for those with eyes to see. 

Monday of the Fifth Week in Ordinary Time

Lectionary: 329

Whatever villages or towns or countryside he entered,
they laid the sick in the marketplaces
and begged him that they might touch only the tassel on his cloak;
and as many as touched it were healed.

The Gospels have no antiseptic scruples about the Lord's contact with people; nor did his first disciples. Saint Luke records people rushing to touch even the clothing of his missionaries: 

So extraordinary were the mighty deeds God accomplished at the hands of Paul that when face cloths or aprons that touched his skin were applied to the sick, their diseases left them and the evil spirits came out of them. Acts 19:11

As a hospital chaplain I took all the usual precautions of hand washing and latex, nitrile, or vinyl gloves, and didn't hesitate to lay hands on the heads of patients, and then anoint their foreheads and hands with the sacred oil. Once, in Louisiana, a fellow dying of AIDS asked if I would give him a hug. "And why not?" I said. I worry more about the contamination of sin than the spread of disease. 

The Gospels reveal the reverse power of the Lord's touching. Instead of being made impure by his contact with leprosy and skin diseases, he renders the sick pure, and frees them from sin. Even the tassels on his cloak communicated healing grace. 

Psalm 91 celebrates the assurance of those who walk in the Lord during difficult times: 

You shall not fear the terror of the night

nor the arrow that flies by day,c

Nor the pestilence that roams in darkness,

nor the plague that ravages at noon.

Though a thousand fall at your side,

ten thousand at your right hand,

near you it shall not come. (verses 5-7) 

When the Angel said to Mary, "Do not be afraid," she tossed aside her fears and gave herself totally to the Lord. She said, in effect, "Totus tuus" The blind beggar Bartimaeus did the same when he tossed his cloak aside and went to the Lord. They  set the example for every disciple of Jesus. We cannot be dissuaded by fears, threats, or danger when the Spirit of the Lord takes charge of our lives. 

 

Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Lectionary: 73

"You are the salt of the earth.
But if salt loses its taste, with what can it be seasoned?
It is no longer good for anything
but to be thrown out and trampled underfoot.
You are the light of the world.

Be Be all that you can be! Or so we're urged by ad agencies. They want us to be different than what we are – but not so much as to make a difference. 

Clearly God thinks differently about his people. Born of the Jewish heritage and descendants of Abraham Our Father in Faith, we are meant to be a blessing to the nations. Our being here can cheer up the depressed, console the sorrowing, heal the sick, forgive sins, and reconcile enemies. Wherever we go we carry the fresh, lively scent of the Garden of Eden because we have been in Bethlehem when Jesus was born, in Nazareth as he grew up, and on the road as he spoke to us. We were with him as he died on Calvary, and he appeared to us on Easter Sunday, and many times since then. We have dual citizenship; we belong here but we are destined for eternal bliss in heaven. We died with him in Baptism and were raised up again in the Eucharist. We are different and we make a difference. We are, as Jesus says, the salt of the earth. 

But, because our being the salt of the earth is so important, he must remind us that useless "salt" will be thrown out. Sometimes, in our eager desire to be accepted as God’s good, friendly, nice people, we mistake the sugar of friendliness for the salt of repentance. We forget the Lord’s first word to us, “Repent of your sins and believe the Good News.”” Unless they recognize and despise their sins no one can hear the Good News. And so the food we offer is insipid, that is, tasteless. 

In today's gospel the Lord tells us, "You are the light of the world." That message takes us back to Sunday, two weeks ago, 

“Land of Zebulun and land of Naphtali,

the way to the sea, beyond the Jordan,

Galilee of the Gentiles,

the people who sit in darkness

have seen a great light,

on those dwelling in a land overshadowed by death

light has arisen."

The regions of Zebulun and Naphthali were lost to the light of faith when the Neo-Assyrian Empire overran the northern kingdom of Israel in the eighth century before Christ. They forced most of the native Israelites off the land God had given them; and then forced aliens to occupy, intermarry with the survivors, and take possession of the homes the Israelites had built, the orchards they had planted, and the fields they had cultivated. Although they worshiped the God of Israel, the people of Judah and Jerusalem regarded them as worse than gentiles.  

However, the Prophet Isaiah prophesied that the Samaritans who dwelt in a land overshadowed by death would someday see a "great light." Matthew saw that prophecy fulfilled when Jesus announced the Kingdom of God, called people to repentance, and healed their sick. 

And so, when Jesus says, "You are the light of the world!" we recognize our calling and responsibility to be and bring the light of Christ to the world. That is, to wherever we live and to whomever we meet. 

Faith was never simply a matter of having correct opinions about God; it always entails the obligation of being different and making a difference. The Old and New Testaments tell us that. “We are a people peculiarly his own. (1 Peter 2:9 & Deuteronomy 7:6). And “We are strangers in a strange land.” (Genesis 15:13, Leviticus 19:33-34, Hebrews 11:9, and 1 Peter 2:11) 

Jesus did not rise from the dead to prove there is an afterlife, or even to promise us eternal life. Rather, he rose to send us on our way. As he said moments before he ascended into heaven,  

"...you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, throughout Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.”

We cannot fail; we must not fail. Failure to be salt and light, that is to live by our faith in Jesus, renders us somewhere between insipid and disgusting,

"good for nothing but to be thrown out and trampled underfoot."

We do not pretend to know, love, and serve God. We must do those things in fact, without pretense or playacting or publicity. The Word of God is a seed which has spread its roots deep in our hearts and changed them. Just as the body of a pregnant woman is altered by the presence of a child within her womb, the Word of God changes, adapts, and conforms us to the will of God. If we ever thought we were our own people, and doing our own thing — which, of course, was never true because at that time we belonged to Satan – the word of God has taken possession of us. It molds and changes us into something as useful as salt, and as beautiful as light. 

 

Saturday of the Fourth Week in Ordinary Time

St Bakhita, feast day February 8

 Lectionary: 328

The Apostles gathered together with Jesus
and reported all they had done and taught.
He said to them,
“Come away by yourselves to a deserted place and rest a while.” 
People were coming and going in great numbers,
and they had no opportunity even to eat.

As I write this post two weeks in advance, we're expecting a major snowfall beginning this afternoon and continuing into Monday. I'm pretty sure there's enough food in the house to sustain six friars until the middle of next week. We'll have time to "come away by ourselves to a deserted place and rest awhile." 

Personally, I don't mind the opportunity, although I don't think I am overworked since retiring from the VA chaplaincy almost four years ago. 

The point of retiring, whether to bed each night, to vacation periodically, or from the American workforce, is "to be with him," as we heard in Mark 3:13:

He went up the mountain and summoned those whom he wanted and they came to him. He appointed twelve [whom he also named apostles] that they might be with him.... 

Retiring may not seem extraordinary, but the opportunity to be with him certainly is. Though many are invited, it is an enormous privilege shared by too few. That we should be with him 24/7/365 makes it no less extraordinary. The Virgin Mary teaches us that, for "she pondered these things in her heart" even as she went about the familiar business of changing diapers and preparing meals. God was ever in her heart.

A fellow once told me that he failed to think of God all the time. I asked him, "Do you ever forget that you're a married man?"
"Of course not!" he said.
"Neither do you forget that you belong to the Lord. If it's not the center of your attention every moment as you file papers, and sign contracts, and do whatever you do for a living; you still know that you belong to the Lord through your Catholic faith and practice."

We practice our faith and that is a constant. Our daily and weekly prayers, our sacraments and devotions, our scapulars, medals, and pocketed rosaries prevent us from wandering into sinful territory. They direct us toward things worthy of our attention. And bringing our attention to matters of this world, we bring the Lord's presence with us. 

That's at least a major part of what Jesus intended when he chose his apostles and sent them forth to preach and to have authority to drive out demons. Mark 3:14-15

Memorial of Saint Paul Miki and Companions, Martyrs

 Lectionary: 327

He added beauty to the feasts and solemnized the seasons of each year
So that when the Holy Name was praised, before daybreak the sanctuary would resound.
The Lord forgave him his sins and exalted his strength forever....

Born and raised in a critical culture that habitually looks for faults, it is easy to hear today's paean of praise for King David with an ever-so-slightly cynical overtone: "yes he was a great hero but...." 

To which the faithful might respond, "Yes, we know he was a great sinner. But you're missing the point." 

When David admitted and confessed his sin, the Lord forgave him and exalted his strength forever. He was a worthy ruler of God's people, a capable administrator, a conscientious servant-leader, a brilliant military commander, and an admirable warrior. He remembered his humble origins, knew himself as a sinner, admitted he was wrong, and repented with characteristic enthusiasm. 

More importantly, King David was the ancestor of Jesus who often referred to himself as a son of man, but responded generously when he was addressed as "Son of David." 

When we gather as a church to sing God's praises, and to remember his Marvelous Works, we can leave our cynicism at the door. Don't come in with it. We're not here to quarrel or quibble, we're here to thank God for the wonderful things he does for man. 

And no, we don't need to hear your particular concern or your separate opinion. Forget yourself and your opinions and your reservations for a while. Call it penance if you like, and a sacrifice, but we don't need to hear about your heroic virtue either.

Like the choice fat of the sacred offerings,

            so was David in Israel.

He made sport of lions as though they were kids,

            and of bears, like lambs of the flock.

As a youth he slew the giant

            and wiped out the people’s disgrace....

We can reflect with great profit to our faith on the story of the shepherd boy, the least of Jesse's sons, whom God chose to succeed Saul. He was deemed by the LORD as a worthy ancestor of Jesus. Which other heroic king of which ancient city do we remember from 1000 BC? All are forgotten except by scrupulous historians, because their powerful nations and fabled cities vanished in the dust a long time ago; and our faith in God perdures. 

I didn't do that. You didn't do that. David didn't do that! God did it, and we thank God for He has not forgotten us. And by his grace we have not forgotten Him. 

To sing the praises of Abraham, David, Jesus, Mary, or any of the saints is to praise God; and you can leave your cynicism at home, in the closet, or under a bed with the dust of the earth.

Memorial of Saint Agatha, Virgin and Martyr

 Lectionary: 326

He instructed them to take nothing for the journey but a walking stick
–no food, no sack, no money in their belts.
They were, however, to wear sandals but not a second tunic.
He said to them,
"Wherever you enter a house, stay there until you leave from there.
Whatever place does not welcome you or listen to you,
leave there and shake the dust off your feet
in testimony against them."

The Catholic Church has traditionally defended the rights of ownership to land and possessions, even as it recognizes their limits. A farmer's right to property and its produce anchored Pope Leo XIII's encyclical Rerum Novarum. Even as a farmer has a right to use to support his family, so should factory workers enjoy a wage sufficient to support their families. 

But ownership necessarily has a spiritual quality. Most things are fungible; they do not obviously belong to anyone; and the world today is filled with disowned debris. Nobody wants it or claims it, and it piles up while we wait for a government -- any government -- to clear it away. 

As I understand Australia's aboriginal were largely nomadic on that vast, flat, arid continent. Before the arrival of European settlers and ways, the indigenous people moved about freely. They wore little clothing and carried throwing sticks (straight ones flew straight while boomerangs turned in arcs). These sticks could bring down small prey or dig for underground water. What they couldn't carry they did not own, and they left no trash.  

The Australian aborigines might fight over violations of personal dignity or women; but their feuds rarely ended in the death of anyone. Quarreling parties resolved their differences by shouting, threatening and some blows; and moved off in different directions. They were totally unprepared for the invaders' barbaric killing methods. Seeing their loved ones cut down by guns they didn't even know to flee. 

Ownership of arid, unpromising land seemed to the Aboriginal even less useful. They had never cultivated land, sown seeds, or dug irrigation channels. Why would anyone claim a tract of land for their own when there were no natural landmarks anywhere in sight? Care for children and the aged was, of course, everyone's responsibility. 

But it wasn't an easy life and not many knew their grandchildren, much less their great grandchildren. Cultivation of land and water resources, and gathering into cities where people might specialize their skills makes life easier for everyone. Our natural artistic abilities find more to work with than painted sticks and colored sand. And with farming comes ownership. 

The Christian missionary -- and we're all missionaries in this brave new world -- reminds the world of the limits of ownership. We take nothing with us into eternity, and should not be burdened with too much stuff as we journey toward eternity. We may own it but it must never own us. 

We have a mission; and often, ownership gets in the way. 

Wednesday of the Fourth Week in Ordinary Time

Lectionary: 325

They said, “Where did this man get all this? What kind of wisdom has been given him? What mighty deeds are wrought by his hands! Is he not the carpenter, the son of Mary, and the brother of James and Joseph and Judas and Simon? And are not his sisters here with us?” 
And they took offense at him. 

Long before Jesus' bewildered neighbors and family were born, Isaiah the Prophet had written:

Therefore I will again deal with this people

in surprising and wondrous fashion:

The wisdom of the wise shall perish,

the prudence of the prudent shall vanish.

Ah! You who would hide a plan

too deep for the LORD!

Who work in the dark, saying,

“Who sees us, who knows us?” (Is 29:14 & 1 Cor 1:19)

The Prophet and the Lord knew that the world's confusion was more than a matter of simple misunderstanding. The method in their madness was sinister and cynical. They could have and should have known better. Their god recognized the authority of the Lord and appreciated his mission; but, despite their loud claims -- "We are descendants of Abraham!" --  their god was not the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Their wisdom would perish, and their prudence would be shown as very rash. 

We should understand that the gullible can be misled by their own mimetic impulses. The Greek word mimesis provides the roots of mimicry, imitation, and mime (think Marcel Marceau). Mimesis is often unconscious, as what often happens when two people engage in conversation. If one scratches his nose, the other is likely to scratch his nose. If one crosses his legs, so does the other; and neither notice the imitation. 

That's how influencers and trend setters operate; they dictate what others should like and dislike. As when, several years ago, an ivy university decided to create a special event for its homosexual freshmen, expecting the standard ten percent; and a quarter of the class showed up. Being gay was the thing in those days; and still is among millions of gullible people who are misled and betrayed by cynical, sinister forces. 

Mimesis also explains the sudden appearance of "trans" among children, to the astonishment of their parents and grandparents. (Cultivated by online pornographers, they hide their nasty curiosity from their elders until they decide to come out.)

We have long known that a bad apple can spoil the barrel, and bad company corrupts good manners. But few were prepared to recognize the evil suggestions that come with degrading social media. Many people loudly insist they're not influenced by intrusive ads; and marketers are happy to let them think that way; which is why they continue to bombard us with commercials, ads, promos, coupons, discounts, sales, promos, and junk throughout the day and night. You may find their suggestion disgusting this year, but you'll get used to it in a year or two. By then today's unthinkable will be merely disgusting. 

Recognizing Satan behind his evil works, the Church continues to speak the truth about children, born and unborn; marriage between one man and one woman; and suicide, whether assisted or unassisted. Murder will always be murder, whether by criminals, police, ICE, or soldiers. 

Let us pray, beware, and notice when you feel a desire to scratch your nose. Someone may have suggested it to you. 

Tuesday of the Fourth Week in Ordinary Time

Lectionary: 324 

He was mounted on a mule,
and, as the mule passed under the branches of a large terebinth,
his hair caught fast in the tree.
He hung between heaven and earth
while the mule he had been riding ran off.

Terebinth trees are often mentioned in the Bible. Google AI calls them "trees of righteousness" and cites Isaiah 6:13. These oaks are strong and sturdy trees with the miraculous ability to regenerate. When cut down, they sprout and re-grow. Apparently because of their size, strength, longevity, and beauty certain terebinths served as meeting places known and familiar to everyone far and wide. The patriarch Abraham often camped at the terebinth at Mamre; it was there he met the LORD who promised the aged Sarah would have a son by this time next year. Saul with his Hebrew warriors met the Philistines in the Vale of the Terebinth where David slew the giant Goliath. 

Unfortunately, because its sturdy branches would stretch high above the ground and parallel to it, Absalom's hair became tangled in the branches of the "righteous tree," leaving him helpless before David's soldiers. As Zophar said to Job, "The heavens shall reveal his guilt, and the earth rise up against him." It is a tragic story of a family torn by its father's troubled ways of ruling a nation and raising a family. We remember David, the son of Jesses, as the founder of the united nation of Israel/Judah, the ancestor of Jesus, the murderer of Bathsheba's husband, and the once and future king of an everlasting kingdom. But his son apparently fell under Nathan's curse. 

Today's gospel, however, recalls the most blessed Son of David, Jesus; and his compassionate care for women, especially a child of twelve years, and an elderly woman. Unlike his ancestor with too many wives, Jesus learned gentleness from his Mother's courage and Joseph's integrity. Despite his stern treatment of his disciples, his rebukes of Pharisees, and his hostility toward Levites and Herodians, Jesus spoke only kindly to women, and could be moved by their tears. His sternest reprimand to a single woman was, "Go, [and] from now on do not sin any more." John 8:11

The Church today finds itself there at the tree of righteousness, trying to promote both righteous justice and compassionate mercy, despite the hostility of the right who tout their righteousness and the left who misuse compassion. With Abraham beneath the terebinth of Mamre, we beg the Lord to show compassion to sodomites while delivering the innocent from their grasp. 

Everyone can agree that the disciples of Jesus must show mercy but we cannot compromise the truth. And we call on the Holy Spirit to show us how to please God even as we disappoint both the right and left. 

Feast of the Presentation of the Lord

Lectionary: 524

Since the children share in blood and flesh,
Jesus likewise shared in them,
that through death he might destroy the one
who has the power of death, that is, the Devil....

Christmas is long passed and today the world entertains itself with harassing a groundhog. Everyone knows it means nothing at all and that seems to be the point. And so Catholics turn back to remember and be grateful for the Gift that does matter.

Today the Letter to the Hebrews reminds us that, "...he had to become like his brothers and sisters in every way." 

I wonder how many young parents hope their child might be like their "brothers and sisters in every way." Don't they hope for better than that? That the infant will be stronger, smarter, healthier, happier, more clever, more obedient, and generally easier to manage than other children? 

Would any new parents hope that their boy or girl will be tested through what they suffer, in order that they, "might be able to help those who are being tested?" 

Perhaps, if the notion were proposed to them, they might agree that failure, disappointment, and trouble make one stronger; but they'd rather think of other, more cheerful things.

The Feast of the Presentation refreshes the Spirit of Christmas, but also arouses sober thoughts about the life and mission of Christ and his people in a world which entertains itself by hauling a fat groundhog out of its burrow. Clearly, they've got over Christianity and Christmas with its hopes and fears a long time ago. They think that hope is a preference for early spring. Although, with climate change, early springs forecast torrid summers and deadly hurricanes. 

Today, we fix our gaze on Jesus and thank God for the promise of this Child. He is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. He is the Son of Man who, 

receives dominion, splendor, and kingship;

all nations, peoples and tongues... serve him.

His dominion is an everlasting dominion

that shall not pass away,

his kingship, one that shall not be destroyed. (Daniel 7:14)

Lent begins early this year, just 16 days from now. It's not too soon to follow in his footsteps toward Jerusalem, Calvary, and Easter.

 

Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Lectionary: 70

Seek the LORD, all you humble of the earth,
who have observed his law;
seek justice, seek humility;
perhaps you may be sheltered
on the day of the LORD's anger.

We're all familiar with the pretense of humility. It has a rank odor that stinks regardless of who it might be that smells so bad, or how far away they might be. On television, radio, or social media – it doesn’t matter – they stink. 

This stench of false humility is pervasive and persistent in human society; it is so common that some social scientists think there is nothing more to our human nature than what we pretend to be. There is no man behind the curtain; we are nothing but what we pretend to be. 

And yet, the Bible assures us, we are more than just dirt; we were made in God’s image. We are sinful images of God, and we stink. As he said, “For you are dirt and to dirt you shall return.” That is, you are humus, meaning organic dirt. Dirt that was formerly alive but is now dead. For Adam and Eve were dead in sin. 

We smell this stench in others; if we’re blessed we notice it in ourselves also. But because false humility is so common; because we’re so continually trying to present the right image to others and ourselves, we might never notice those blessed ones who actually seek humility. They want to recognize, admit, and understand who they are in God’s sight. For, as Saint Francis said, “What a man is in God’s sight, is what he is. That, and nothing more.” 

What on earth are they looking for? And why? Perhaps, as the prophet says, that they may be sheltered on the day of God's anger. They want to be that people, humble and lowly, who take refuge in the name of the LORD: who shall do no wrong, and speak no lies. 

The Lord who was born in poverty  and died in disgrace invites the humble to be with him when he says, 

Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart; and you will find rest for yourselves. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.

In his presence, as Zephaniah says, “they shall pasture and couch their flocks with none to disturb them.” That is, they will find that peace in their hearts which is unshaken and undisturbed by the nonsense around them. 

Humility is a gift largely unrecognized by the world but it is not a weight too heavy to bear. Those who are blessed with humility do not speak of it; rather, they celebrate the Lord’s perfection, Mary’s purity, and the martyrs’ courage. 

Today's gospel gathers the Church around Jesus to hear him describe our humble way of life. He speaks in what might be a foreign language, and his eight beatitudes are mysteries. They are... 

"... hidden from ages and from generations past; but now manifested to his holy ones, " (Col 1:26)

There is no mockery, insinuation, threats, or violence in God’s kingdom; there is no bluster or pretense. There are no promises of success, prosperity, security, or peace on earth. Nor are the residents of the Kingdom prettier, smarter, healthier, wealthier, or more famous than anyone else. They are spared that nonsense. As Saint Paul said, 

“God chose the foolish of the world to shame the wise, and God chose the weak of the world to shame the strong, and God chose the lowly and despised of the world, those who count for nothing, to reduce to nothing those who are something, so that no human being might boast before God.

In today’s Gospel, Jesus tells us about that place where the humble live: the poor in spirit inherit the Kingdom of God. Those who mourn are comforted, and those who hunger and thirst for righteousness are more than satisfied. The merciful will be shown mercy, and the pure of heart will see God. 

The Bible shows us what it means to be human in God’s world; and in God’s world no one needs, or feels the need, to boast of their success, prosperity, fame, fortune, or virtue. They know they are vulnerable, foolish, sinful human beings, and  have nothing to boast about, and yet they know God loves them intensely. Our sins continually remind God and us that we are made of dirt – of humus – and to humus we shall return. 

Humbly is the way we should act, and humility should be the goal we pursue. If we brag about anything, it will be like Saint Paul, who spoke quite freely of his humiliation: 

Three times I begged the Lord about (his problems,) that (they) might leave me,  but he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.” 

And then the Apostle said, 

But I will boast of my weaknesses, in order that the power of Christ may dwell with me. I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and constraints, for the sake of Christ; for when I am weak, then I am strong.

In his Sermon on the Mount Jesus also shows us that church which has always been in God’s mind but was hidden from ages past. We see glimpses of it in the Old Testament; and we feel its nearness in Mary, the Mother of God. 

When we join her in Bethlehem and Nazareth, and on Calvary, we become humble, poor in spirit, and meek. Especially, standing beside her on Calvary, we cannot say or do anything. We impose a strict silence on our minds as we grieve with her for the loss of her son. With her we hunger and thirst for righteousness, but have no worldly power to enforce God’s laws of mercy and justice. 

Mary is the Church, that humble woman, and as she takes our hands and leads us from Calvary to the tomb where they laid his body, we become the Church. And then we know that we will be protected and saved with her on Judgment Day, that great and terrible day when the LORD casts down the mighty from their thrones, and raises the lowly from the dust of the earth, to live with him forever. 

Memorial of Saint John Bosco, Priest

 Lectionary: 322

He woke up,
rebuked the wind, 
and said to the sea, “Quiet!  Be still!”
The wind ceased and there was great calm.
Then he asked them, “Why are you terrified?
Do you not yet have faith?”

Which of us does not tremble at the thought of eminent death? Perhaps we've all had the experience, or at least realized later how close we came to it. Humans are no less vulnerable than most animals; we can die at any moment, in any place. It can come quite suddenly, and many people "...never knew what hit them." 

We might not manage at all if we didn't believe "It won't happen today." We plan for tomorrow, and next week, and next year with little hesitation. True, things happen; and we all know:

The best laid schemes o’ Mice an’ Men

          Gang aft agley,

An’ lea’e us nought but grief an’ pain,

          For promis’d joy! (To a mouse, by Robert Burns)

 But we carry on as if....

In today's gospel the Lord laughs at his disciples for their little faith in him, his mission, and the Father who was directing them. Did they really suppose their purpose and mission might collapse before a tempest at sea? Is it possible that God's plan for the salvation of the world could be permanently, irreparably frustrated by high winds and stormy seas? Are you kidding me? Where is your faith?

We know we will die; it might happen today. And if it does, it will come as neither surprise nor setback to the Lord. So why do we worry? For ourselves? For myself? 
"Build a bridge and get over yourself!" 

Friday of the Third Week of Ordinary Time

Lectionary: 321

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.

A fellow asked me recently, "How can we 'glorify God?'" The expression made no sense to him. Can one brighten the light of the sun? I used a homely example: with a hand mirror we can direct sunlight in any direction, and also back toward the sun. With our praise of God we glorify God. He was not satisfied. 

Catholics must live in a pluralistic, multivalent society that speaks a language stripped of subtleties, even as they practice a faith which is anchored by symbols, parables, and supernatural definitions. We often suppose we understand something because we've heard the expression in Church, and yet cannot begin to explain it in other words. When the four-syllable word consubstantial was reinserted in the Nicene Creed, people complained they didn't know what the word meant, although they had never asked about the four syllables of "...one in being with the Father.'  

In my Bible study group, I noticed the jailer in the Acts of the Apostles who asked Saint Paul, "What must I do to be saved?" In my experience as a hospital chaplain, no one ever asked that question. Some old fellows said they were satisfied with their lives. I asked a few in hospice care to "Say hello to my folks!" and they seemed to know what I meant. 

So I asked the Bible group what the jailer meant by the word saved.  "We go to heaven." was the best offering. But what is heaven; how do we imagine it today, given our appreciation of time, history, and politics. Though they often describe restless ghosts who haunt the earth, writers and the entertainment industry show little interest in heaven. It must be a place with no drama, and no stories to tell. 

The Lord's parable about weeds and wheat flew right over the heads of most of his listeners, as they still do today. No matter how pointed they are, they don't get parables. "Sure it's unfortunate what happened to the rich man," they might have said, "but what does the story of Lazarus and Dives have to do with me?" 

In fact, religious questions often have an anxious subtext which points to the jailer's question, "Sirs, what must I do to be saved?" Perhaps he was asking, "Will I be herded like everyone else into the oblivion of eternal emptiness?"

Some people ask, "Will everyone be saved?" Jesus replied, "Strive to enter through the narrow gate."
"But," they persist, "will everyone be saved?"
 "What is it you really want to know? Are you asking what is the minimum standard for your personal salvation? Are you asking about your children who attend no church and have not had your grandchildren baptized? Are you asking if you'll be saved and they will not be? Where is your question coming from? 
Are you suggesting that God's standards are unfair? That He asks too much?
Perhaps he should not have made us in the first place, if his standards are so demanding." 

The saints show us how to walk in faith without asking unanswerable questions. They show us that faith in God means that many of our neighbors, acquaintances, and family will be seriously uncomfortable with us; and that we will not be able to conform to their standards. Fidelity means we're not amused by their entertainment, and their jokes are not funny.  We cannot participate in their gossip nor agree with their politics. 

But we have a responsibility to God and a duty to others to live and demonstrate the challenge of the Gospel. Like Saint Paul, we are prophets who bless what is good in the world, and shun what is below human dignity. But we see where many are blind; and we hear what many cannot hear. Even the silent death of a beggar shouts at us. 

Thursday of the Third Week in Ordinary Time

 Lectionary: 320

After Nathan had spoken to King David, 
the king went in and sat before the LORD and said, 
“Who am I, Lord GOD, and who are the members of my house, 
that you have brought me to this point?
Yet even this you see as too little, Lord GOD....

Our first reading this morning from 2 Kings recalls David's reaction upon hearing Nathan's message from the Lord, "Who am I that I should be so blessed?" 

It is a moment of profound wonder and humility which everyone must experience from time to time, and often forget when they need it most. It is hard to think of King David, the most distinguished of the Lord's ancestors, without recalling his unspeakable sins against Uriah and Bathsheba. What was he thinking as he brought a curse upon his descendants, both physical and spiritual, which remains to this day? Obviously, it was not of God. 

And yet David, the poet, songwriter, and minstrel, also introduced penance into the story of our salvation. His 51st Psalm is a game changer which seems to come from the humility he expressed in today's reading. "Who am I that you should bless me?" 

Overcome as he was by remorse, shame, grief, and guilt, his humility took him to a deeper place than he -- or anyone -- had ever known. "Can God forgive even this? Does God have authority even to forgive, heal, and undo the wrong I have done?" Isn't it more than God can deal with?  

Penitents ask these questions as they enter the Sacrament of Penance, especially as we ponder the crucifixion of Jesus.

"Have mercy on us, O Lord, who had no mercy on you!" 

The Good News begins with, "“This is the time of fulfillment. The kingdom of God is at hand. Repent, and believe in the gospel.” (Mark 1:15)

Our new life begins with David's awareness of blessing and of guilt. It takes us deep into the experience of being human, far deeper than anyone would go willingly unless they had been personally called, had heard, and had responded to a very personal invitation.