Monday, October 16, 2006
OF THINGS ORANGE: The BCS Is NOT Scientific
OK. The first BCS poll was released yesterday afternoon. I can understand how Ohio State is in first place. (I will pull even for them to win the National Chanpionship if an SEC team fails to make the title game.) But, there are several things I just do not understand about the rankings. Call it "sour grapes" if you want, but I am completely befuddled. How can Southern Cal (oops...-ifornia) be ranked second? With the exception of their win over Arkansas, which put a solid drumming on Auburn (then #2) just a week ago, USC has barely won every game, eeking out victory after victory over questionable opponents. Yes, they are undefeated, but compare their accomplishments to those of Michigan with its annihilation of Notre Dame and solid wins in every other game they have played. And, pray tell, how in the name of the football dieties is Caifornia ranked ahead of Tennessee, who had them 35-0 until they put in their THIRD STRING in the 4th quarter and still beat them 35-18? Tennessee has beaten two Top 10 teams (at the time the games were played) and lost by a single point to the Gaytors. WHO have the Golden Bears beaten? Give me a break! The computers used in the BCS have to be on crack because they certainly aren't scientific!
OF THINGS DIVINE: What Will You Do Next? (OT28-B)
In an age when many of us find it difficult to make ends meet, contemporary society bombards us with a set of values based on the need for material security. It judges our success by the size of our bank account, the extent of our possessions and the exclusiveness of the area in which we choose to live. But the wisdom that comes from God, described in today's first reading, measures differently and ranks power and riches as nothing. Nada. There is more to life than what is immediately apparent, and spiritual values run deeper than worldly standards. We are reminded in today’s liturgy that we cannot buy our way into heaven. If we listen closely, we are being reminded that wealth mixes with worship of God just about as well as oil with water.
The rich young man prided himself on his goodness. He was the essence of respectability; a stickler for going to church and observing the commandments, a stickler for observing teh holy days, a stickler for praying, and stickler for paying his tithes. He had his act together and was assertive enough to come forward to ask Jesus a fundamental question” “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” The answer he got was more than he bargained for. His big boast was that he had done nothing wrong in his life, but Jesus was not all that interested in the fact that he had kept out of harm’s way. Christ was more interested in the use he had made of his life, in the good he had done and whether he was prepared to go out of his way to help others. He looked him straight in the eyes with his own piercing eyes described so beautifully in the Book of Revelation and loved him. He looked into his very soul and invited him to sell all he had and to come follow him. Here was a young man brimming with life, yet the peace that he sought was placed beyond his reach because his vision was limited to the material world and was blinded to teh needs of his soul. He went away saddened because he was unable to make the sacrifice. Far from regarding him as a model to be imitated, Jesus singles him out as a warning for those who witnessed the exchange and for every generation that has followed, including ours..
Being rich and having lots of money may not be our problem but all of us are invited to answer the Lord's call: “Come, follow me.” Jesus, when speaking to our hearts in his response to teh young man, is subtly posing an even more important question: “Am I worth following?” He is not asking us to just admire his way of life but to live it, and live it fully not as part-timers but every day. Discipleship is always costly, and following Jesus makes very stark demands on every aspect of our lifestyle. Our following Christ means making the best of our present situation and placing our lives in God’s hands. We have only one life, and Jesus Christ is inviting us to leave the world a better place for our presence than we found it. We achieve this by helping others, and not by grasping everything for ourselves and hoarding it for our posterity.
I want to share with you a story of a man who died in Cleveland, Ohio, late last year, who had two wills, one for the disposition of his earthly goods and one he called a "spiritual will." The son of Polish immigrants, he founded a chain of retail stores across northern Ohio, and his children expected to be well-set for life upon his death, their mother having passed away some years earlier. They were surprised to learn that he had sold all his interest in the retail stores and left all of his accumulated wealth to various forms of Catholic charities that included his local parish, the diocese, various seminaries, Catholic carities, St. Vincent DePaul Society, the Catholic Extesion Society, and a variety of Catholic foreign missions. At his funeral, another will was read by the parish priest. It said: "To my children, I leave my greatest and most valuable possession becasue of my great love for you. Because I came into this world with nothing and leave this world with nothing I hope you will treasure what I have held so dear throughout my life. I leave you my faith. With it I have loved you, nurtured you and helped form you to become the wonderful children you are today. Believe what I have taught you. Love the Lord with all your heart. And try to live more generously than you think yourselves capable. As for your faith: believe it, love it, and live it every day. And your motehr and I will be waiting for you."
It takes faith to accept the Lord’s invitation. It takes courage to live a Christian life in a world that rejects sacrifice and simplicity while embracing the self-indugent accummulation of "stuff." It takes great love to put others first without regard to what others might think or say or what you are afraid they might say about you. But, the reward is much greater and more enduring that anything this world has to offer. The choice seems simple enough.
The young man asked Jesus what he must do to gain eternal life.
Jesus asks us, “What must you do next to gain eternal life?”
The rich young man prided himself on his goodness. He was the essence of respectability; a stickler for going to church and observing the commandments, a stickler for observing teh holy days, a stickler for praying, and stickler for paying his tithes. He had his act together and was assertive enough to come forward to ask Jesus a fundamental question” “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” The answer he got was more than he bargained for. His big boast was that he had done nothing wrong in his life, but Jesus was not all that interested in the fact that he had kept out of harm’s way. Christ was more interested in the use he had made of his life, in the good he had done and whether he was prepared to go out of his way to help others. He looked him straight in the eyes with his own piercing eyes described so beautifully in the Book of Revelation and loved him. He looked into his very soul and invited him to sell all he had and to come follow him. Here was a young man brimming with life, yet the peace that he sought was placed beyond his reach because his vision was limited to the material world and was blinded to teh needs of his soul. He went away saddened because he was unable to make the sacrifice. Far from regarding him as a model to be imitated, Jesus singles him out as a warning for those who witnessed the exchange and for every generation that has followed, including ours..
Being rich and having lots of money may not be our problem but all of us are invited to answer the Lord's call: “Come, follow me.” Jesus, when speaking to our hearts in his response to teh young man, is subtly posing an even more important question: “Am I worth following?” He is not asking us to just admire his way of life but to live it, and live it fully not as part-timers but every day. Discipleship is always costly, and following Jesus makes very stark demands on every aspect of our lifestyle. Our following Christ means making the best of our present situation and placing our lives in God’s hands. We have only one life, and Jesus Christ is inviting us to leave the world a better place for our presence than we found it. We achieve this by helping others, and not by grasping everything for ourselves and hoarding it for our posterity.
I want to share with you a story of a man who died in Cleveland, Ohio, late last year, who had two wills, one for the disposition of his earthly goods and one he called a "spiritual will." The son of Polish immigrants, he founded a chain of retail stores across northern Ohio, and his children expected to be well-set for life upon his death, their mother having passed away some years earlier. They were surprised to learn that he had sold all his interest in the retail stores and left all of his accumulated wealth to various forms of Catholic charities that included his local parish, the diocese, various seminaries, Catholic carities, St. Vincent DePaul Society, the Catholic Extesion Society, and a variety of Catholic foreign missions. At his funeral, another will was read by the parish priest. It said: "To my children, I leave my greatest and most valuable possession becasue of my great love for you. Because I came into this world with nothing and leave this world with nothing I hope you will treasure what I have held so dear throughout my life. I leave you my faith. With it I have loved you, nurtured you and helped form you to become the wonderful children you are today. Believe what I have taught you. Love the Lord with all your heart. And try to live more generously than you think yourselves capable. As for your faith: believe it, love it, and live it every day. And your motehr and I will be waiting for you."
It takes faith to accept the Lord’s invitation. It takes courage to live a Christian life in a world that rejects sacrifice and simplicity while embracing the self-indugent accummulation of "stuff." It takes great love to put others first without regard to what others might think or say or what you are afraid they might say about you. But, the reward is much greater and more enduring that anything this world has to offer. The choice seems simple enough.
The young man asked Jesus what he must do to gain eternal life.
Jesus asks us, “What must you do next to gain eternal life?”
Monday, September 04, 2006
Of Things Orange: Happy Days Are Here Again
Forgive me, but I only saw the last 27 seconds of the Tennessee entrapment of the Golden Bears on Saturday. Weddings are necessary evils during pigskin season and I was witnessing one for some dear people, but I was able to check the flow of the game by looking at my text messages being sent by a volunteer army of friends at the game seated in ZZ13. (I hope Kenneth from Murfreesboro, who bought my four tickets for this game, enjoyed himself.) Robert Meachem should get some kind of award for his performance. What about Ainge? We knew the kid could do; we were just afraid he wouldn't. Everyone take a deep breath and make a sigh of relief. If the team holds together and keeps praying together with their focus on the Big Prize I fear for the likes of George, Florida, and LSU. I look forward to watching the Air Force game on PPV this weekend I sold my tickets to a friend whose son just enlisted in the Army and leave for bootcamp on the 13th so he and his family can make the trip together one last time before Jeff's departure). Then, I will join all my crazy friends in ZZ13 for the Florida game. I really think 5-0 and a Top 5 ranking is within reach this month. GO BIG ORANGE!
Thursday, August 31, 2006
Of Things Orange: 2 Days and Counting
The University of Tennessee Volunteers kickoff at 5:30 pm (EDT) on Saturday. I will be in the air on the way to a commitment in New Jersey, but I will have my orange and white rosary with me to assure that someone is praying for the Men of Orange play to the best capabilities against the Golden Bears who enter the season a Top 10 choice in most polls. Yesterday, The UT quarterback, Erik Ainge, said that the demons of 2005 are behind him and the team; time will tell. I am nervous before every game, and the fact that the oddsmakers have made the Big Orange a 2-point favorite makes me more nervous because my team doesn't cover the spread very often. Too bad I have this commitment because my heart is singing: Wish that I was on ol' Rocky Top down in those Tennessee hills. Ain't no smoggy smoke on Rocky Top; ain't no telephone bills. Once two strangers climbed ol' Rocky Top lookin' for a moonshine still. Strangers ain't come down from Rocky Top; reckon they never will. Rocky Top, you'll always be home sweet home to me. Good ol' Rocky Top, Rocky Top Tennessee!
Of Things Orange: 2 Days and Counting
The University of Tennessee Volunteers kickoff at 5:30 pm (EDT) on Saturday. I will be in the air on the way to a commitment in New Jersey, but I will have my orange and white rosary with me to assure that someone is praying for the Men of Orange play to the best capabilities against the Golden Bears who enter the season a Top 10 choice in most polls. Yesterday, The UT quarterback, Erik Ainge, said that the demons of 2005 are behind him and the team; time will tell. I am nervous before every game, and the fact that the oddsmakers have made the Big Orange a 2-point favorite makes me more nervous because my team doesn't cover the spread very often. Too bad I have this commitment because my heart is singing: Wish that I was on ol' Rocky Top down in those Tennessee hills. Ain't no smoggy smoke on Rocky Top; ain't no telephone bills. Once two strangers climbed ol' Rocky Top lookin' for a moonshine still. Strangers ain't come down from Rocky Top; reckon they never will. Rocky Top, you'll always be home sweet home to me. Good ol' Rocky Top, Rocky Top Tennessee!
Of Things Canine: Puppies at Four weeks Old
Here are some pictures of Bailey's puppies by Ch. Timbe's Monsignor O'Bryan. They were four weeks old on Sunday. You will notice some stitches in the eys lids. These are called "eye tacks" and are used to lift the heavy brow caused by wrinling so the puppies can open their eyes and see the worlf. The boy has had to have tacks from the beginning. The girl with tacks made the unfortunate mistake of walking under one of teh adult dogs whihile he was relieveing himself and got urine in her eyes, causing her eyes to slam shut for a couple of days. They are growing nicely and have great personalities. Today, the are outside for most of the morning with Bailey, who has been a wonderful brood bitch.
Saturday, August 19, 2006
Of Things Divine: The Transforming Power of the Eucharist, Ordinary Time 20-B
Recently I received over the Internet the story of a woman arrested for road rage. It seems she was quite angry at the man driving in front of her. She was blowing her horn in an effort to get him to speed up. At the stop light, she rolled down her window and was shouting obscenities at the man, who must have been a saint for the way he controlled himself. A police officer pulled up behind her and watched her temperamental explosion, and when she stuck her hand out of the window toward the man’s car to give him a digital expression of her mind the policeman got out of his car and ordered the woman out of hers. He arrested her on the spot. After questioning her for a few hours at the precinct house, the office apologized to the woman for arresting her. He said, “I am sorry, ma’am, but with all the bumper stickers on the back of your car like ‘Jesus is my co-pilot’ and ‘I vote for Life’ and ‘Every human being is a child of God’ and ‘Honk if you love Jesus’ I would have sworn by your conduct that you had stolen that car.”
It’s sad, but true. Too often we make mistakes about what is important. For that poor woman the mistake was wearing her Christianity on her car and not in her heart.
A similar mistake occurs all too frequently with the way we think about meals. We make the mistake of thinking that the most important part of a meal is the food which sustains our bodies, but there is a deeper significance to meals than the dishes that are served. What really matters when we share a meal is not the food on the table but the chatter and fun shared while eating. That is what binds us together and refreshes our hearts and creates friendship and family.
It was no different for Jesus. At the last supper he shared with his apostles Jesus’ love and friendship overflowed as he showed the Twelve how to be brothers to one another. Every time we come together to celebrate the Eucharist we relive that event. We meet Jesus as both brother and Savior and receive the shared life of God in our gathering and our fellowship.
Today’s Gospel tells us clearly that Jesus offers us his Body and Blood as the necessary food for our journey through life. It is not just spiritual food. It is real food: his flesh, his blood. And, he warns of the consequences of not accepting the gift he offers. If you do not eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood you will not have life within you.
We are reminded today of the closeness of the union into which Jesus calls us in every celebration of the Eucharist. It is a union which reaches its fulfillment in eternity. Jesus is offering us a life that will not grow old but will go on for ever. In the Eucharist, we are offered the life that Jesus shares with the Father and the Holy Spirit, and he offers it so that we might have life.
Jesus is not present on our altars simply for our adoration and admiration. Jesus is present so that we can be united with him perfectly. Our celebration and reception of the Eucharist can be an empty pageant, an empty ritual as I mentioned last week, if it is confined to one hour in church on Sunday and doesn’t flow into the rest of our lives. Unless we are very much a part of what we are doing and have our hearts set on drawing closer to Jesus and becoming more Christ-like we can end up leading a pagan’s life tinged with certain Christian practices. We could become that woman who proclaimed her Christianity in all the wrong ways.
Receiving the Eucharist is meaningless and profitless if we fail to live what we celebrate. We must take our religion out of the church with us and bring it into the marketplace, onto the playground, into our social gatherings. For instance, there is not much point in speaking about God’s love without making an effort to spread it.
At the end of Mass each week we are sent out into the world to serve the Lord Jesus where were we live and work and play as Christ-bearers living his life, making Jesus present in a world that would otherwise conceal him.
Today, we thank God in a special way for the great gift of his Son who is with us and leading us to the Father, both physically and spiritually. Every act, every word, every thought placed on the altar of Christ benefits our world. Without frequent returns to the Bread of Life, we are unable to keep the spirit of Christ alive in our hearts.
This week, do something positive for your faith. Think of a member of our parish who you don’t see at Mass, except rarely. Call that brother or sister in Christ and invite them to meet you at Mass next weekend. After all, you wouldn’t let your brothers and sisters starve to death, would you? The power of the Eucharist is not contained in letters from the pastor or in newsletters sent to members of the Church who have fallen into the pit of spiritual sloth. The power of the Eucharist is not even confined to this beautiful tabernacle. No, the power of the Eucharist resides in you who become living tabernacles sent into the world to proclaim the Good News by the way you live the life of Jesus every day.
So, at the end of Mass today, go and tell that non-practicing member of the Church just how much God loved you today at Mass and how He filled you with the Banquet of Life. Invite them to rediscover the joy of Mass.
And, invite your neighbors, too. There is always room for one more at Mass!
It’s sad, but true. Too often we make mistakes about what is important. For that poor woman the mistake was wearing her Christianity on her car and not in her heart.
A similar mistake occurs all too frequently with the way we think about meals. We make the mistake of thinking that the most important part of a meal is the food which sustains our bodies, but there is a deeper significance to meals than the dishes that are served. What really matters when we share a meal is not the food on the table but the chatter and fun shared while eating. That is what binds us together and refreshes our hearts and creates friendship and family.
It was no different for Jesus. At the last supper he shared with his apostles Jesus’ love and friendship overflowed as he showed the Twelve how to be brothers to one another. Every time we come together to celebrate the Eucharist we relive that event. We meet Jesus as both brother and Savior and receive the shared life of God in our gathering and our fellowship.
Today’s Gospel tells us clearly that Jesus offers us his Body and Blood as the necessary food for our journey through life. It is not just spiritual food. It is real food: his flesh, his blood. And, he warns of the consequences of not accepting the gift he offers. If you do not eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood you will not have life within you.
We are reminded today of the closeness of the union into which Jesus calls us in every celebration of the Eucharist. It is a union which reaches its fulfillment in eternity. Jesus is offering us a life that will not grow old but will go on for ever. In the Eucharist, we are offered the life that Jesus shares with the Father and the Holy Spirit, and he offers it so that we might have life.
Jesus is not present on our altars simply for our adoration and admiration. Jesus is present so that we can be united with him perfectly. Our celebration and reception of the Eucharist can be an empty pageant, an empty ritual as I mentioned last week, if it is confined to one hour in church on Sunday and doesn’t flow into the rest of our lives. Unless we are very much a part of what we are doing and have our hearts set on drawing closer to Jesus and becoming more Christ-like we can end up leading a pagan’s life tinged with certain Christian practices. We could become that woman who proclaimed her Christianity in all the wrong ways.
Receiving the Eucharist is meaningless and profitless if we fail to live what we celebrate. We must take our religion out of the church with us and bring it into the marketplace, onto the playground, into our social gatherings. For instance, there is not much point in speaking about God’s love without making an effort to spread it.
At the end of Mass each week we are sent out into the world to serve the Lord Jesus where were we live and work and play as Christ-bearers living his life, making Jesus present in a world that would otherwise conceal him.
Today, we thank God in a special way for the great gift of his Son who is with us and leading us to the Father, both physically and spiritually. Every act, every word, every thought placed on the altar of Christ benefits our world. Without frequent returns to the Bread of Life, we are unable to keep the spirit of Christ alive in our hearts.
This week, do something positive for your faith. Think of a member of our parish who you don’t see at Mass, except rarely. Call that brother or sister in Christ and invite them to meet you at Mass next weekend. After all, you wouldn’t let your brothers and sisters starve to death, would you? The power of the Eucharist is not contained in letters from the pastor or in newsletters sent to members of the Church who have fallen into the pit of spiritual sloth. The power of the Eucharist is not even confined to this beautiful tabernacle. No, the power of the Eucharist resides in you who become living tabernacles sent into the world to proclaim the Good News by the way you live the life of Jesus every day.
So, at the end of Mass today, go and tell that non-practicing member of the Church just how much God loved you today at Mass and how He filled you with the Banquet of Life. Invite them to rediscover the joy of Mass.
And, invite your neighbors, too. There is always room for one more at Mass!
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
Of Things Orange: 17 Days And Counting
The Vols open the 2006 campaign in just a week and a half! What an opener it will be in Knoxville against the Golden Bears of the University of California at Berkely, a team ranked in the Top 10 by most preseason polls. Unfortunately, I will not be at the game nor do I expect a positive outcome for Tennessee. My friend Mike (see picture as he enjoys our seats in ZZ 7: 5-8) says I am the eternal pessimist when it comes to UT Sports, but then I see him as the eternal optimist; and I love him for his confidence even when the Vols are down midway through the fourth quarter. But, I am just not getting good vibes from K-ville this year. Erik Ainge seems to be stuck in mediocrity and the off-the-field problems continue with two freshmen -- yes, freshman -- already dismissed from the team for disciplinary reasons. The first scrimmage was hardly a thing of beauty. Please, God, let there be significant improvement this Saturday! I hope I will be pleased with the outcome as I watch on a television in Morristown, NJ, where I will be on personal business. I plan on getting to the Florida, Memphis, Alabama, and LSU games this year and already have my substitutes as needed for those weekends.
Tuesday, August 15, 2006
Puppies on Day 16
Notice how big they have gotten. The boy is in the middle flanked by the two girls. The boy measures 11 inches from nose to rump today.
Puppies on Day 1
Of Doggie Things: Bailey Has New Puppies!
Bailey whelped three puppies on the morning of July 30, 2006. She had two girls and one boy. The first puppy, a girl, got caught in her birth canal and hung there for more than 45 minutes. Although she was quite active for the first thirty minutes she went lifeless and limp as her placenta had been detached too long. However, once she was on the ground some rigourous stimulation by me and some impassioned licking by Bailey finally got a squeak out of her, and then another. She had difficulty nurisng for the first twelve hours but has developed into a fine looking girl. Both girls are red fawn, and the boy is fawn. The first girl weighed nearly a pound and a half at birth, a weight that is about 50% bigger than a normal shar-pei puppy. No wonder she got stuck! The boy has grown the fastest and is already more than four pounds. His belly is so big I am hoping that his legs will be able to lift him high enough so he learns how to walk. I have a of couple name possibilities for him: Timbe's I Am The Walrus (and call him "McCartney") or Timbe's Best Friend of Stroh's (and call him "Suds"). It's been more than four years since I had a litter in the house, but it's nice to have them. Check back later and see if I still feel that way when I am taking them outside in the middle of the night....
Of Things Divine: Enough Is Enough Is Enough!, Ordinary Time 19
I don’t think it would be a stretch to say that we know what Elijah is talking about when he says: “Lord, I’ve had enough.” Broken and dispirited on his journey in the wilderness, he has reached the end of his rope. At his lowest ebb, an angel of God comes to his rescue and feeds him with miraculous food – a hearth cake and a jug of water. His flagging hope is restored by this bread from heaven and he continues his journey to the holy mountain of Horeb, where he receives a new vision of God in the form of a gentle breeze. This gives him renewed courage and faith to march on and face the challenge of another day.
Many times in our bleak moments we feel like saying with Elijah, “Lord, we’ve had enough.” Christian life is by no means plain sailing and we often find ourselves broken and crushed by circumstances that come our way. Left to our own resources we can find no light at the end of the tunnel. To keep going we need an assurance that we are not alone in our lives and that God is with us helping us to carry our crosses, rescuing us from every predicament that befalls us.
Our gospel today reminds us that we have such a help in Jesus who is the Bread of Life. He brings each of us just what we need to sustain us on our pilgrim journey to everlasting life in God. Jesus is heavenly food – the ultimate heavenly food. He is medicine for the sick soul, nourishment for the wounded spirit, light and strength for the weary mind, the source of new and eternal life, whose presence and power strengthen us. Jesus is the Living Bread which has come down from heaven, the unique source of life.
I wonder if we looked at our lives and asked ourselves if we are truly hungering for Jesus, who is the Bread of Life, what our answer would be. Coming to Christ Jesus requires far more than a weekly walk up to the altar to receive his Body and Blood in Holy Communion. If Jesus makes himself available to us then we have to make ourselves present to him. To approach the altar complaining, or with a heart full of bitterness because of hurt inflicted upon us, is not a true sharing in the Eucharist. There is no way we can offer ourselves to God without making sincere efforts to love our neighbor who has let us down in some way during the week. In our daily lives we are asked to be forgiving, to overcome faults, to understand failure in our friends and coworkers, and not to close our hearts when we are offended.
In the Eucharist that we celebrate and receive today we meet the bigness of God who has forgiven us and who asks us in turn to give freely as we have received. The Eucharist is the opportunity for reconciliation exemplar. It is here that wounds and old sores are bound up and forgiveness is to be planted. Unless this sacred and mysterious meal transforms us – makes us into something we can only hope to be – it is only an empty ritual that has no bearing on us or the world.
My brothers and sisters, as we ponder the mysterious of life and contemporary society we can spend a lot of time and energy complaining about the inconveniences we encounter and wonder how many more we will have to endure we need only remind ourselves that there is always someone who finds life more trying that we do. I think of the Christians who live in Bethlehem and other parts of Palestine who have lost their livelihood as tourism to Bethlehem and other holy sites has dried up in recent decades. My heart aches for the people of Lebanon and Israel who never know on which day a bomb will fall on them. I am distraught over the way Christians are being ostracized, persecuted and killed in India and many nations in Africa. I wonder how people here in our own city have been able to cope with the warmer than usual temperatures and ever-soaring cost of gasoline.
Jesus did not deem equality with God something to be clung to but emptied himself to become the Bread that gives us strength and nourishment to face the vicissitudes of life. And, because we rejoice in this supernatural gift of his Body and Blood we carry on in faith ready to march on and face the challenges of another day, another week, embracing those who are less fortunate than we with the love we have so generously received from God, walking lights of hope in a world that is tired of crying out, “Lord, we’ve had enough!”
Many times in our bleak moments we feel like saying with Elijah, “Lord, we’ve had enough.” Christian life is by no means plain sailing and we often find ourselves broken and crushed by circumstances that come our way. Left to our own resources we can find no light at the end of the tunnel. To keep going we need an assurance that we are not alone in our lives and that God is with us helping us to carry our crosses, rescuing us from every predicament that befalls us.
Our gospel today reminds us that we have such a help in Jesus who is the Bread of Life. He brings each of us just what we need to sustain us on our pilgrim journey to everlasting life in God. Jesus is heavenly food – the ultimate heavenly food. He is medicine for the sick soul, nourishment for the wounded spirit, light and strength for the weary mind, the source of new and eternal life, whose presence and power strengthen us. Jesus is the Living Bread which has come down from heaven, the unique source of life.
I wonder if we looked at our lives and asked ourselves if we are truly hungering for Jesus, who is the Bread of Life, what our answer would be. Coming to Christ Jesus requires far more than a weekly walk up to the altar to receive his Body and Blood in Holy Communion. If Jesus makes himself available to us then we have to make ourselves present to him. To approach the altar complaining, or with a heart full of bitterness because of hurt inflicted upon us, is not a true sharing in the Eucharist. There is no way we can offer ourselves to God without making sincere efforts to love our neighbor who has let us down in some way during the week. In our daily lives we are asked to be forgiving, to overcome faults, to understand failure in our friends and coworkers, and not to close our hearts when we are offended.
In the Eucharist that we celebrate and receive today we meet the bigness of God who has forgiven us and who asks us in turn to give freely as we have received. The Eucharist is the opportunity for reconciliation exemplar. It is here that wounds and old sores are bound up and forgiveness is to be planted. Unless this sacred and mysterious meal transforms us – makes us into something we can only hope to be – it is only an empty ritual that has no bearing on us or the world.
My brothers and sisters, as we ponder the mysterious of life and contemporary society we can spend a lot of time and energy complaining about the inconveniences we encounter and wonder how many more we will have to endure we need only remind ourselves that there is always someone who finds life more trying that we do. I think of the Christians who live in Bethlehem and other parts of Palestine who have lost their livelihood as tourism to Bethlehem and other holy sites has dried up in recent decades. My heart aches for the people of Lebanon and Israel who never know on which day a bomb will fall on them. I am distraught over the way Christians are being ostracized, persecuted and killed in India and many nations in Africa. I wonder how people here in our own city have been able to cope with the warmer than usual temperatures and ever-soaring cost of gasoline.
Jesus did not deem equality with God something to be clung to but emptied himself to become the Bread that gives us strength and nourishment to face the vicissitudes of life. And, because we rejoice in this supernatural gift of his Body and Blood we carry on in faith ready to march on and face the challenges of another day, another week, embracing those who are less fortunate than we with the love we have so generously received from God, walking lights of hope in a world that is tired of crying out, “Lord, we’ve had enough!”
Of Things Divine: We Are So Blessed, Ordinary Time, 17
The crowd has come a long way to hear Jesus speak and expound on the Law of Moses. Now they find themselves in a deserted place without food and are feeling the pangs of hunger. In his compassion, Jesus inquires about the food supply on hand and discovers all that is available are five barley loaves and two fishes in the possession of a young boy.
We can easily picture this youth’s bewilderment when asked to give up all that he has, to part with the only food that is available. His sacrifice, however, is well rewarded when he sees Jesus feed the multitude with the food he has provided. Through the power and the prayer of the Lord the impossible become possible. What is given to Jesus as a sacrifice is given back by him totally transformed. The crowd is fed, symbolizing that Jesus has come to give life to all people.
One message we can take to heart from this miraculous feeding of the crowd is the importance of sharing what we have with those who are less well off, especially those who are starving. How ironic that we would have been visited just a week ago by Fr. Bob, who told us of the need for our help in feeding the poor of our own hemisphere.
The Lord asks us to give ourselves and our resources generously to him, to place what we have and what we are at his disposal. Not many of us have experienced the pangs of real hunger which darkens the mind and forces an honest person to become a thief. Our problem is that we have too much food. The inclination to selfishness is strong in all of us. The more we have the more we want. Yet, there is food enough in the world for the needs of all people but not for people’s greed.
Two years ago, a young priest came to work with me at Holy Rosary. Fr. Mathew was from Tanzania, a country, which according to him, has but one traffic light and no stop signs. When I picked him up at the airport he was frightened by the escalator (he had never seen one!) and refused to ride it to the luggage claim area.Fr. Mathew had a difficult time adjusting to our American menu. He had never heard of, let alone tasted, many of the dishes we take for granted like spaghetti, baked potatoes, green beans, and salad.
By the time he returned to Tanzania a year last year, however, he had come to appreciate American dining. When asked at his farewell reception what he would miss the most he said, “The people, of course, but after you I will miss the food. You are the richest people on earth if only because you have so much food. Now, I must return to my country where I will eat chick peas and rice every day, and, if I am lucky, a chicken on Sunday. And every time I sit down to eat I will remember the meals I had here in America and never be satisfied again.”
The hungry multitude is still with us, crying out for the basic necessities of life. The sheer size of the problem may make us wonder what we have to offer.
Like the Apostle Andrew, we say, “What is that among so many?” Yet draw our inspiration from the young boy. The Lord did not dismiss his offering as too small or insufficient, and he won’t dismiss our gifts either. It is in using our little efforts that God chooses to produce his greatest miracles. Our barley load and our fish may be the small amount we set aside from our bounty, like the Rice Bowls distributed each Lent for the poor in the Third World or the tradition of contributing to St. Anthony’s Bread for the local poor or your gifts to the St. Vincent DePaul Society. On their own, our contributions may seem insignificant but multiplied around our parish or a caring community it has all the potential of becoming a miracle.
One parishioner approached me this week and inquired if many people made donations to Food for the Poor last weekend. When I said that many had she replied, “I didn’t because what could a mere $5 do?” Just think what good would be accomplished if every family at OLS gave just $5 a month. That would be $1500 a month. That would be $18,000 a year. That’s enough to feed 30 families of five for an entire year! And we wonder what our $5 could ever accomplish.
In the Gospel, we hear how Jesus took some loaves and gave thanks to his Father. Thankfulness for what we have can be a beginning to being more generous. Every day we live in this world is a miracle of God’s providence, much greater than the feeding of the multitude, but because it happens with such regularity we give it no real thought.
The feeding of the multitude should make us think about thanking God not only for our food but for the many blessings and benefits that come our way and which we take so much for granted.
I close today with a few questions and a suggestion:
What do you take for granted?
How would you cope if what you take for granted were no longer available to you?
What are you willing to surrender to Jesus so he can continue to work miracles among us today?
Perhaps we could begin my making ourselves for available for the daily celebrations of Mass if our work schedules allow us to do so. There is no greater miracle that the one Jesus works at this altar every time Mass is celebrated. And think of wondrous food we are privileged to eat.
Not even the angels are so blessed!
We can easily picture this youth’s bewilderment when asked to give up all that he has, to part with the only food that is available. His sacrifice, however, is well rewarded when he sees Jesus feed the multitude with the food he has provided. Through the power and the prayer of the Lord the impossible become possible. What is given to Jesus as a sacrifice is given back by him totally transformed. The crowd is fed, symbolizing that Jesus has come to give life to all people.
One message we can take to heart from this miraculous feeding of the crowd is the importance of sharing what we have with those who are less well off, especially those who are starving. How ironic that we would have been visited just a week ago by Fr. Bob, who told us of the need for our help in feeding the poor of our own hemisphere.
The Lord asks us to give ourselves and our resources generously to him, to place what we have and what we are at his disposal. Not many of us have experienced the pangs of real hunger which darkens the mind and forces an honest person to become a thief. Our problem is that we have too much food. The inclination to selfishness is strong in all of us. The more we have the more we want. Yet, there is food enough in the world for the needs of all people but not for people’s greed.
Two years ago, a young priest came to work with me at Holy Rosary. Fr. Mathew was from Tanzania, a country, which according to him, has but one traffic light and no stop signs. When I picked him up at the airport he was frightened by the escalator (he had never seen one!) and refused to ride it to the luggage claim area.Fr. Mathew had a difficult time adjusting to our American menu. He had never heard of, let alone tasted, many of the dishes we take for granted like spaghetti, baked potatoes, green beans, and salad.
By the time he returned to Tanzania a year last year, however, he had come to appreciate American dining. When asked at his farewell reception what he would miss the most he said, “The people, of course, but after you I will miss the food. You are the richest people on earth if only because you have so much food. Now, I must return to my country where I will eat chick peas and rice every day, and, if I am lucky, a chicken on Sunday. And every time I sit down to eat I will remember the meals I had here in America and never be satisfied again.”
The hungry multitude is still with us, crying out for the basic necessities of life. The sheer size of the problem may make us wonder what we have to offer.
Like the Apostle Andrew, we say, “What is that among so many?” Yet draw our inspiration from the young boy. The Lord did not dismiss his offering as too small or insufficient, and he won’t dismiss our gifts either. It is in using our little efforts that God chooses to produce his greatest miracles. Our barley load and our fish may be the small amount we set aside from our bounty, like the Rice Bowls distributed each Lent for the poor in the Third World or the tradition of contributing to St. Anthony’s Bread for the local poor or your gifts to the St. Vincent DePaul Society. On their own, our contributions may seem insignificant but multiplied around our parish or a caring community it has all the potential of becoming a miracle.
One parishioner approached me this week and inquired if many people made donations to Food for the Poor last weekend. When I said that many had she replied, “I didn’t because what could a mere $5 do?” Just think what good would be accomplished if every family at OLS gave just $5 a month. That would be $1500 a month. That would be $18,000 a year. That’s enough to feed 30 families of five for an entire year! And we wonder what our $5 could ever accomplish.
In the Gospel, we hear how Jesus took some loaves and gave thanks to his Father. Thankfulness for what we have can be a beginning to being more generous. Every day we live in this world is a miracle of God’s providence, much greater than the feeding of the multitude, but because it happens with such regularity we give it no real thought.
The feeding of the multitude should make us think about thanking God not only for our food but for the many blessings and benefits that come our way and which we take so much for granted.
I close today with a few questions and a suggestion:
What do you take for granted?
How would you cope if what you take for granted were no longer available to you?
What are you willing to surrender to Jesus so he can continue to work miracles among us today?
Perhaps we could begin my making ourselves for available for the daily celebrations of Mass if our work schedules allow us to do so. There is no greater miracle that the one Jesus works at this altar every time Mass is celebrated. And think of wondrous food we are privileged to eat.
Not even the angels are so blessed!
Of Things Divine: Healing Here And Now, Ordinary Time 13
Today’s gospel portrays an example of the healing power of Jesus in an uncommonly moving scene. Jairus, a respected synagogue official, has a little daughter who is seriously ill, on the point of death. In desperation he seeks out Jesus and begs him to come to his house to lay hands on his daughter and cure her. Jesus responds without hesitation, but on the way news comes that the little girl is dead. To continue further would be useless, but with calm authority Jesus calls for faith and proceeds to the house. In the quiet of the sick room, speaking just two words, he restores the child to full health.
The sacred heart that beats in Jesus’ chest can never resist a hand outstretched in need or an appeal for help made in faith. Healing is at the center of Jesus’ public ministry. And, it is most important for us to understand that Jesus’ healing ministry extends to both body and soul. Not only does he heal, Jesus extends God’s mercy to people of faith that restored divine wholeness to the soul as the body is cured.
In his three years of public ministry, Jesus went around the whole of Galilee, curing whatever illnesses or infirmity were among the people and filling them with the life-giving presence of God. The healing acts of Jesus were themselves a message … that he had come to set people free. And he continues to set people free even today.
The mission of the Church in every age has been to continue the healing work which Jesus began through his miracles. It is no different today. Every Christian is called to ministry in one way or another:
· as parents called to pass on the faith to the children entrusted to our care;
· as people who seek justice for those to who it has been denied;
· as peacemakers in a community and world rent with violence that destroys families through war and senseless drive-by shootings;
· as voices that prophetically call others to return to the ways of the Lord by helping them identify their sins as the wander in a world of self-indulgence.
The unique healing power of Jesus was in his willingness to show compassion. And we are to be no less compassionate as we live the Gospel and proclaim it with our lives. Our example for compassion is revealed in the last hours of Jesus’ life. Nailed to the cross on the hill of Calvary, Jesus pardoned the thief who recognized him for who he was even though he did not remove the thief from his agony. There can be no doubt that the thief’s sins were forgiven, that he was spiritually healed, even though he still had to suffer. Real healing always involves some suffering because open wounds have to knit themselves closed whether the wounds are to the body, soul or relationships. It takes time, and the healing is not always comfortable. (I know because I had my gall bladder out just two weeks ago and the four wounds my body suffered are itchy and tender as the heal.)
There is no a person in this church today who is not called to represent God by Christ-like actions and not a single person here present can be excused from caring because our vocation as believers in Christ Jesus is to be healers. When a friend is terminally ill, medical knowledge and skill together cannot make the sick person completely well again. What they need more than anything else is for the love of God to me made real for them, through the actual experience of care and concern shown by the people around them. Just by being there, even though we are powerless, we can make faith in God real for them, for we are following the Lord in his compassion. And, when a member of the Church, the Body of Christ, errs and wanders into sinful behavior, they need the voice of Christ through our personal witness to call them back to righteousness, back to the fold, through which Christ the Great Healer can restore them to divine grace. Not to visit the sick, not to challenge the errant sinner is to be complicit in the illness that separates them from the love of Christ, who died to restore them to wholeness.
My dear brothers and sisters, today’s liturgy reminds us of the generosity of Our Lord, who became poor for our sake. We already have received the richness of his many blessings beyond our imagination. Now we are asked to go out and share that same richness with others.
When we hear “Go the Mass is ended” too many people think they have completed their obligation to God for the week. The truth, however, is that the real sacrifice of the Mass comes to life with our dismissal from church. It is then that we are empowered by the Real Presence of Christ we have received in the Eucharist at Holy Communion to take Jesus to the world, to be Jesus for the world as his very body and blood flows through every capillary of our bodies which have become true temples of God’s presence among us. Our celebration of Mass may have come to an end, but the Mass never ends. The bloodless sacrifice of Jesus on our altar may be completed, but our dying to self through lives of service begins as we dispersed from this holy place. When we go as Christ intends for us to go miracles continue to happen as people are fed by our love of Jesus and lifted by our sacrifices for them.
As we celebrate this holiday weekend commemorating our nation’s independence and the liberties we enjoy, we need to be mindful that there are many people who have not been set free from the things that bind them because they have not encountered Christ in a real and personal way. They are waiting for us and to hear just two words of healing: JESUS CHRIST. May God bless you with a desire to work miracles in the lives of the people you meet every day, and may they respond to the power of Christ that fills you through the miracle of the Most Holy Sacrament we celebrate today.
The sacred heart that beats in Jesus’ chest can never resist a hand outstretched in need or an appeal for help made in faith. Healing is at the center of Jesus’ public ministry. And, it is most important for us to understand that Jesus’ healing ministry extends to both body and soul. Not only does he heal, Jesus extends God’s mercy to people of faith that restored divine wholeness to the soul as the body is cured.
In his three years of public ministry, Jesus went around the whole of Galilee, curing whatever illnesses or infirmity were among the people and filling them with the life-giving presence of God. The healing acts of Jesus were themselves a message … that he had come to set people free. And he continues to set people free even today.
The mission of the Church in every age has been to continue the healing work which Jesus began through his miracles. It is no different today. Every Christian is called to ministry in one way or another:
· as parents called to pass on the faith to the children entrusted to our care;
· as people who seek justice for those to who it has been denied;
· as peacemakers in a community and world rent with violence that destroys families through war and senseless drive-by shootings;
· as voices that prophetically call others to return to the ways of the Lord by helping them identify their sins as the wander in a world of self-indulgence.
The unique healing power of Jesus was in his willingness to show compassion. And we are to be no less compassionate as we live the Gospel and proclaim it with our lives. Our example for compassion is revealed in the last hours of Jesus’ life. Nailed to the cross on the hill of Calvary, Jesus pardoned the thief who recognized him for who he was even though he did not remove the thief from his agony. There can be no doubt that the thief’s sins were forgiven, that he was spiritually healed, even though he still had to suffer. Real healing always involves some suffering because open wounds have to knit themselves closed whether the wounds are to the body, soul or relationships. It takes time, and the healing is not always comfortable. (I know because I had my gall bladder out just two weeks ago and the four wounds my body suffered are itchy and tender as the heal.)
There is no a person in this church today who is not called to represent God by Christ-like actions and not a single person here present can be excused from caring because our vocation as believers in Christ Jesus is to be healers. When a friend is terminally ill, medical knowledge and skill together cannot make the sick person completely well again. What they need more than anything else is for the love of God to me made real for them, through the actual experience of care and concern shown by the people around them. Just by being there, even though we are powerless, we can make faith in God real for them, for we are following the Lord in his compassion. And, when a member of the Church, the Body of Christ, errs and wanders into sinful behavior, they need the voice of Christ through our personal witness to call them back to righteousness, back to the fold, through which Christ the Great Healer can restore them to divine grace. Not to visit the sick, not to challenge the errant sinner is to be complicit in the illness that separates them from the love of Christ, who died to restore them to wholeness.
My dear brothers and sisters, today’s liturgy reminds us of the generosity of Our Lord, who became poor for our sake. We already have received the richness of his many blessings beyond our imagination. Now we are asked to go out and share that same richness with others.
When we hear “Go the Mass is ended” too many people think they have completed their obligation to God for the week. The truth, however, is that the real sacrifice of the Mass comes to life with our dismissal from church. It is then that we are empowered by the Real Presence of Christ we have received in the Eucharist at Holy Communion to take Jesus to the world, to be Jesus for the world as his very body and blood flows through every capillary of our bodies which have become true temples of God’s presence among us. Our celebration of Mass may have come to an end, but the Mass never ends. The bloodless sacrifice of Jesus on our altar may be completed, but our dying to self through lives of service begins as we dispersed from this holy place. When we go as Christ intends for us to go miracles continue to happen as people are fed by our love of Jesus and lifted by our sacrifices for them.
As we celebrate this holiday weekend commemorating our nation’s independence and the liberties we enjoy, we need to be mindful that there are many people who have not been set free from the things that bind them because they have not encountered Christ in a real and personal way. They are waiting for us and to hear just two words of healing: JESUS CHRIST. May God bless you with a desire to work miracles in the lives of the people you meet every day, and may they respond to the power of Christ that fills you through the miracle of the Most Holy Sacrament we celebrate today.
Sunday, June 11, 2006
Of Things Divine: And They Doubted, Most Holy Trinity-B
Has faith ever prompted you to act beyond your doubts?
For a year beginning in the summer of 1978 as I prepared to leave for the seminary, I was filled with many doubts. I asked myself questions such as “Am I doing the right things?,” “Will my business sell?,” “What if it doesn’t work out?,” Am I doing God’s will or mine?” It was a time in my life I had to rely on my faith that I was answering a call from God to act beyond my doubts.
Now, in recent weeks I have had doubts about my recently announced change of assignments. These doubts are not about the assignment but whether I will be effective our not, will I “fit in” to a new parish community after having come to love this one so very much. Again, I have to allow my faith in God’s wisdom and my vow of obedience to take me beyond my doubts.
Have you ever found yourself in such a predicament? I’ll bet you have.
Certain verses in scripture make our hearts leap up and stand at attention, though perhaps for different reasons. Sometimes we are attracted to the excitement in the exclamations: “Let there be light!” “A child is born for us!” “He is risen; he is not here!” Other lines thrill us with their mystery: “I shall let my beauty pass before you, but my face you cannot see.” “His face shone like the sun and his clothes became white as light.” Sometimes it’s the questions that move us, because they are also our questions: “Lord, will you sweep away the innocent with the guilty?” “How long, Lord, will you hide your face from me?” “Lord, to whom can we go?” But often it’s the humanity of the statements in a holy text that astonish us with their bald honesty: “Cursed be the day that I was born!” Or the ache in the brevity: “And Jesus wept.”
One verse that always gets my attention is this funny sentence near the end of Matthew’s gospel proclaimed today: “When they all saw Jesus, they worshiped, but they doubted.” It’s inelegant, awkward, and comical in its contradictions. But it offers a most comforting and endearing image of what discipleship looks like under even the best possible conditions. In the midst of an act of worship, the 11 closest friends Jesus ever had doubted him. And this is after three years of teaching, healing, miracles, crucifixion, and resurrection. This isn’t the Thomas situation, let’s be clear: It’s not hearsay about the risen Lord that these men doubt. Christ the Lord is standing right in front of them, right before their eyes. And they worship him. And they doubt. Such is the richness of our humanity!
It reminds me of the classic Sherlock Holmes statement about “the curious incident of the dog in the nighttime.” As Watson points out, the dog did nothing in the nighttime. “That was the curious incident,” Holmes assures him. When intruders enter, dogs are expected to bark. And when miraculous events break into mundane history, one expects a certain wholehearted cascade into faith. Shouldn’t the 11 remaining apostles be levitating with Easter certitude? Shouldn’t they be standing on the mountaintop with Jesus halfway to transfiguration themselves in the presence of his risen glory?
Evidently faith doesn’t work that way. Jesus explored this curious reality in his story about Lazarus and the rich man. When both die and enter their eternal destinies, the rich man pleads with Father Abraham to allow Lazarus to return to earth to warn his brothers. Abraham refuses, regretting that those who doubt continue to do so even if one should rise from the dead. The disciples reserve a corner of doubt in the dynamic exercising of their faith. They have rushed to Galilee to meet Jesus, even as they doubt the likelihood of such an encounter. They bow reverently, all the while disbelieving their own experience.
And we know what this is. We call it “hoping against hope.” When we find our emotions at war with reason, we enter into a comic bargain with ourselves, agreeing to disagree with reasonable expectations. We want what cannot be. All right then; we acknowledge the futility of our longing and continue to want it. In a sense, this is the only real definition of faith, to long for what cannot logically be. If something is obviously and inevitably coming our way, it doesn’t take faith to wait for it, just patience. Faith, as the Letter to the Hebrews notes, is the evidence of things hoped for and not seen. It is reaching for the improbable and then graduating to the impossible. If resurrection from the dead and virgin birth and miraculous healing were rationally comprehensible events, we wouldn’t have to believe them. We’d just read about them in the Commercial-Appeal. (And we all believe everything we read in the Commercial-Appeal.)
Moses makes a curious argument in the first reading today by enjoining the people to pledge themselves to the one, true God. Moses appeals to God’s singularity: not just that God is “one,” but that God is unique. What Israel’s God does, no other god can do. Their God not only made the world but makes history with every act of divine will – from the creation of everything out of nothing right down to His will for each of us to come into being.
We’re with Moses on this one. Our God is a singular God whose signature act, from the Christian perspective, is not the creation or even the resurrection but the Incarnation: the Word Made Flesh, God becoming one of us so that we might share in His divinity. That is why we bow at our profession of faith in the Incarnation while reciting the creed. Without the Incarnation our salvation would have been impossible. And our Eucharist is an invitation to that shared life with God. The indwelling Spirit is one more sign of that incorporation. God is in us by virtue of the infusion of God’s own life through the gift of sanctifying grace in Baptism, and we are in God if we love God and neighbor with the same divine love that first loved us. We believe this. Fervently we believe this. And, we doubt this. Routinely we doubt the existence of God, the Trinitarian formula, the Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist, and so on. And so, we live in the comic style of the Keystone Cops, thwarting ourselves at every turn, running in circles between the altar and the confessional, between giving thanks to God for His blessings and giving an account of our sorry selves who forgot that we love God first and neighbor second every time we commit a self-indulgent offense against God or neighbor.
It’s ironic to consider on the solemnity of the Trinity that God is a perfectly integrated One-in-Three when we can barely keep our singular selves together in one place for a quarter of an hour because we have been trained to live our lives in seven-minute segments marked by commercials for self-indulgence. The integrity of the divine will is mutually shared by Father, Son, and Spirit. The human will of a single individual is like a Jackson Pollack painting: a little here, a little there, and a spit in the middle until it’s a dense tangle of conflict masquerading as harmony.
Jesus hands over the Great Commission in one smooth sentence: “Go, make disciples, baptize, and teach.” We’d like to think the Apostles might have been finished with their doubting when they received this huge lump of responsibility, but chances are they weren’t. So now they carry the double burden of presenting the gospel to the whole world and having private reservations about the whole experience.
Thankfully, Jesus doesn’t just hand off the mission. He also adds one much appreciated final clause: “And behold, I am with you always.” Jesus knows that our divided nature is not going to go away. We’ll keep on dragging our doubts into our worship like Bob Marley’s chains in the Charles Dickens classic Christmas tale. But happily, the reverse is true, and we can take divine comfort in knowing that wherever doubt takes us, our faith won’t be far behind.
For a year beginning in the summer of 1978 as I prepared to leave for the seminary, I was filled with many doubts. I asked myself questions such as “Am I doing the right things?,” “Will my business sell?,” “What if it doesn’t work out?,” Am I doing God’s will or mine?” It was a time in my life I had to rely on my faith that I was answering a call from God to act beyond my doubts.
Now, in recent weeks I have had doubts about my recently announced change of assignments. These doubts are not about the assignment but whether I will be effective our not, will I “fit in” to a new parish community after having come to love this one so very much. Again, I have to allow my faith in God’s wisdom and my vow of obedience to take me beyond my doubts.
Have you ever found yourself in such a predicament? I’ll bet you have.
Certain verses in scripture make our hearts leap up and stand at attention, though perhaps for different reasons. Sometimes we are attracted to the excitement in the exclamations: “Let there be light!” “A child is born for us!” “He is risen; he is not here!” Other lines thrill us with their mystery: “I shall let my beauty pass before you, but my face you cannot see.” “His face shone like the sun and his clothes became white as light.” Sometimes it’s the questions that move us, because they are also our questions: “Lord, will you sweep away the innocent with the guilty?” “How long, Lord, will you hide your face from me?” “Lord, to whom can we go?” But often it’s the humanity of the statements in a holy text that astonish us with their bald honesty: “Cursed be the day that I was born!” Or the ache in the brevity: “And Jesus wept.”
One verse that always gets my attention is this funny sentence near the end of Matthew’s gospel proclaimed today: “When they all saw Jesus, they worshiped, but they doubted.” It’s inelegant, awkward, and comical in its contradictions. But it offers a most comforting and endearing image of what discipleship looks like under even the best possible conditions. In the midst of an act of worship, the 11 closest friends Jesus ever had doubted him. And this is after three years of teaching, healing, miracles, crucifixion, and resurrection. This isn’t the Thomas situation, let’s be clear: It’s not hearsay about the risen Lord that these men doubt. Christ the Lord is standing right in front of them, right before their eyes. And they worship him. And they doubt. Such is the richness of our humanity!
It reminds me of the classic Sherlock Holmes statement about “the curious incident of the dog in the nighttime.” As Watson points out, the dog did nothing in the nighttime. “That was the curious incident,” Holmes assures him. When intruders enter, dogs are expected to bark. And when miraculous events break into mundane history, one expects a certain wholehearted cascade into faith. Shouldn’t the 11 remaining apostles be levitating with Easter certitude? Shouldn’t they be standing on the mountaintop with Jesus halfway to transfiguration themselves in the presence of his risen glory?
Evidently faith doesn’t work that way. Jesus explored this curious reality in his story about Lazarus and the rich man. When both die and enter their eternal destinies, the rich man pleads with Father Abraham to allow Lazarus to return to earth to warn his brothers. Abraham refuses, regretting that those who doubt continue to do so even if one should rise from the dead. The disciples reserve a corner of doubt in the dynamic exercising of their faith. They have rushed to Galilee to meet Jesus, even as they doubt the likelihood of such an encounter. They bow reverently, all the while disbelieving their own experience.
And we know what this is. We call it “hoping against hope.” When we find our emotions at war with reason, we enter into a comic bargain with ourselves, agreeing to disagree with reasonable expectations. We want what cannot be. All right then; we acknowledge the futility of our longing and continue to want it. In a sense, this is the only real definition of faith, to long for what cannot logically be. If something is obviously and inevitably coming our way, it doesn’t take faith to wait for it, just patience. Faith, as the Letter to the Hebrews notes, is the evidence of things hoped for and not seen. It is reaching for the improbable and then graduating to the impossible. If resurrection from the dead and virgin birth and miraculous healing were rationally comprehensible events, we wouldn’t have to believe them. We’d just read about them in the Commercial-Appeal. (And we all believe everything we read in the Commercial-Appeal.)
Moses makes a curious argument in the first reading today by enjoining the people to pledge themselves to the one, true God. Moses appeals to God’s singularity: not just that God is “one,” but that God is unique. What Israel’s God does, no other god can do. Their God not only made the world but makes history with every act of divine will – from the creation of everything out of nothing right down to His will for each of us to come into being.
We’re with Moses on this one. Our God is a singular God whose signature act, from the Christian perspective, is not the creation or even the resurrection but the Incarnation: the Word Made Flesh, God becoming one of us so that we might share in His divinity. That is why we bow at our profession of faith in the Incarnation while reciting the creed. Without the Incarnation our salvation would have been impossible. And our Eucharist is an invitation to that shared life with God. The indwelling Spirit is one more sign of that incorporation. God is in us by virtue of the infusion of God’s own life through the gift of sanctifying grace in Baptism, and we are in God if we love God and neighbor with the same divine love that first loved us. We believe this. Fervently we believe this. And, we doubt this. Routinely we doubt the existence of God, the Trinitarian formula, the Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist, and so on. And so, we live in the comic style of the Keystone Cops, thwarting ourselves at every turn, running in circles between the altar and the confessional, between giving thanks to God for His blessings and giving an account of our sorry selves who forgot that we love God first and neighbor second every time we commit a self-indulgent offense against God or neighbor.
It’s ironic to consider on the solemnity of the Trinity that God is a perfectly integrated One-in-Three when we can barely keep our singular selves together in one place for a quarter of an hour because we have been trained to live our lives in seven-minute segments marked by commercials for self-indulgence. The integrity of the divine will is mutually shared by Father, Son, and Spirit. The human will of a single individual is like a Jackson Pollack painting: a little here, a little there, and a spit in the middle until it’s a dense tangle of conflict masquerading as harmony.
Jesus hands over the Great Commission in one smooth sentence: “Go, make disciples, baptize, and teach.” We’d like to think the Apostles might have been finished with their doubting when they received this huge lump of responsibility, but chances are they weren’t. So now they carry the double burden of presenting the gospel to the whole world and having private reservations about the whole experience.
Thankfully, Jesus doesn’t just hand off the mission. He also adds one much appreciated final clause: “And behold, I am with you always.” Jesus knows that our divided nature is not going to go away. We’ll keep on dragging our doubts into our worship like Bob Marley’s chains in the Charles Dickens classic Christmas tale. But happily, the reverse is true, and we can take divine comfort in knowing that wherever doubt takes us, our faith won’t be far behind.
Of Things Divine: Peace Be With You, Pentecost-B
Some years ago Prudential Insurance Company was building a new facility to house its operational headquarters. Company officials thought that it would be nice to plant a time capsule that would be opened fifty years in the future. Among the items sealed in the capsule were predictions by various civic leaders. Before they placed them in the capsule, the each leader read read his prediction to the crowd. One prediction surprised everyone.
“Fifty years from now … men and women will still struggle to find happiness – which will continue to lie within themselves.”
That happiness, of course, is the peace that Christ gave to his disciples almost 2,000 years ago on the first Easter.
Peace be with you, he said … As the Father sent me, so I send you.
The peace that Christ wished for his disciples as he breathed on them to plant the Holy Spirit in them is the same peace he desires for us. It is his own peace which allowed him to live his entire life in a contented manner all the time knowing that the crucifixion lay before him. This kind of peace only comes through the presence of the Holy Spirit which fills the hearts of the faithful with the gifts necessary to face any situation in life in a manner that always reveals the hope we have for the promises of God being fulfilled for us.
Sometimes we focus too much on ourselves and forget that the bigger picture in life doesn’t revolve around us but around God. The “terrible three’s” wasn’t applied to toddlers without reason. Teenagers and young adults, generally speaking, are the worst about this because they have come to think that they deserve whatever they want and believe that they shouldn’t have to wait for it. But young people are not alone in this attitude. We witness the discontentment that a lack of holy peace allows to generate in many ways: in the impatience people demonstrate for one another, in the grumbling we spout about our lot in life, the ill humor we have for people with whom we work or those who employ us, and the swearing that bubbles forth ever more freely in everyday conversation.
If we weren’t a people of faith and all we had to hope to obtain are the pleasurable things of this life that advertisers tell us we need to be happy, I would forgive self-centered navel-gazing. But we have SO much more to look forward to. Our hearts and minds have been opened up to the glories of eternal life. The Holy Spirit has been breathed into us by God Himself to enliven us with a desire for the promise of heaven and to help us make decisions that will carry us to that reign of glory. We have not been promised a smooth ride, and some of us have very bumpy rides on the journey we call life, but all of us have empowered to keep our eye on the goal, our site on the crown of victory, our hunger for the things of heaven.
When we experience one of those bumps, what good does it do to complain unless we have lost our confidence in God who said He would take care of us. What good does it do to allow someone else’s decision to make us grow angry and bitter? It only destroys the peace that Christ has imparted to us, and the absence of that very peace unlocks the door for Satan to play all kinds of tricks in an effort to squash our faith.
Where does our impatience, grumbling and swearing get us? Nowhere! They certainly don’t make life any easier for us. Our troubles don’t dissipate because we grumble or swear. And, we just might find that impatience too often does nothing more than lead us to anger and resentment.
We are sent as the Father has sent His Son: into the world to proclaim the Good News. How can we proclaim Good News if we aren’t contented by our faith when faced with life’s twists and turns? Jesus has wished peace for us, and, remember, it is not the same as the peace the world offers us. It has nothing to do with comfort or ease or agreeability. The peace that Christ gives is the confidence that we can get through any difficulty by faith in God. The Good News is that we shall rise again!
If you believe that you are prepared to accept the changes that invade our comfortable lives more often than we would like – not just in resignation, but joyfully because God is doing it again – you enjoy the great gift of the peace of Christ that is meant to accompany the Church through the ages.
The blessing of this liturgy is that God is fulfilling His promises to us right here and right now in the outpouring of the Holy Spirit and the gift of His Son’s body and blood for us and the redemption of the whole world. And, because of this, we can accept any challenge, we can do anything God asks of us with the same enthusiasm that possessed Peter and the other disciples on that first Pentecost.
Joyfully we will proclaim the Good News: Jesus Christ is risen! He is risen indeed!
“Fifty years from now … men and women will still struggle to find happiness – which will continue to lie within themselves.”
That happiness, of course, is the peace that Christ gave to his disciples almost 2,000 years ago on the first Easter.
Peace be with you, he said … As the Father sent me, so I send you.
The peace that Christ wished for his disciples as he breathed on them to plant the Holy Spirit in them is the same peace he desires for us. It is his own peace which allowed him to live his entire life in a contented manner all the time knowing that the crucifixion lay before him. This kind of peace only comes through the presence of the Holy Spirit which fills the hearts of the faithful with the gifts necessary to face any situation in life in a manner that always reveals the hope we have for the promises of God being fulfilled for us.
Sometimes we focus too much on ourselves and forget that the bigger picture in life doesn’t revolve around us but around God. The “terrible three’s” wasn’t applied to toddlers without reason. Teenagers and young adults, generally speaking, are the worst about this because they have come to think that they deserve whatever they want and believe that they shouldn’t have to wait for it. But young people are not alone in this attitude. We witness the discontentment that a lack of holy peace allows to generate in many ways: in the impatience people demonstrate for one another, in the grumbling we spout about our lot in life, the ill humor we have for people with whom we work or those who employ us, and the swearing that bubbles forth ever more freely in everyday conversation.
If we weren’t a people of faith and all we had to hope to obtain are the pleasurable things of this life that advertisers tell us we need to be happy, I would forgive self-centered navel-gazing. But we have SO much more to look forward to. Our hearts and minds have been opened up to the glories of eternal life. The Holy Spirit has been breathed into us by God Himself to enliven us with a desire for the promise of heaven and to help us make decisions that will carry us to that reign of glory. We have not been promised a smooth ride, and some of us have very bumpy rides on the journey we call life, but all of us have empowered to keep our eye on the goal, our site on the crown of victory, our hunger for the things of heaven.
When we experience one of those bumps, what good does it do to complain unless we have lost our confidence in God who said He would take care of us. What good does it do to allow someone else’s decision to make us grow angry and bitter? It only destroys the peace that Christ has imparted to us, and the absence of that very peace unlocks the door for Satan to play all kinds of tricks in an effort to squash our faith.
Where does our impatience, grumbling and swearing get us? Nowhere! They certainly don’t make life any easier for us. Our troubles don’t dissipate because we grumble or swear. And, we just might find that impatience too often does nothing more than lead us to anger and resentment.
We are sent as the Father has sent His Son: into the world to proclaim the Good News. How can we proclaim Good News if we aren’t contented by our faith when faced with life’s twists and turns? Jesus has wished peace for us, and, remember, it is not the same as the peace the world offers us. It has nothing to do with comfort or ease or agreeability. The peace that Christ gives is the confidence that we can get through any difficulty by faith in God. The Good News is that we shall rise again!
If you believe that you are prepared to accept the changes that invade our comfortable lives more often than we would like – not just in resignation, but joyfully because God is doing it again – you enjoy the great gift of the peace of Christ that is meant to accompany the Church through the ages.
The blessing of this liturgy is that God is fulfilling His promises to us right here and right now in the outpouring of the Holy Spirit and the gift of His Son’s body and blood for us and the redemption of the whole world. And, because of this, we can accept any challenge, we can do anything God asks of us with the same enthusiasm that possessed Peter and the other disciples on that first Pentecost.
Joyfully we will proclaim the Good News: Jesus Christ is risen! He is risen indeed!
