When Jesus calls, will He get a busy signal?

     There was a young man who had decided that he wanted to become a priest, but he wasn’t sure which seminary he wanted to attend.  One was run by the Dominicans, and the other by the Jesuits.  He visited the one run by the Jesuits and was very impressed, and had all but made up his mind to go there, but he thought he should at least check out the other one to be sure.  He did, and while speaking with the Dominican friar, he asked what the differences were between the two orders.  “Well,” said the stately priest, “they are very similar actually.  Both were  founded by Spaniards--St Dominic the Dominicans, and St. Ignatius of Loyola the Jesuits.  And, they both were started to combat heresy—the Dominicans to fight the Albigensians, and the Jesuits to fight the Protestants.”  “So then what’s the difference?” asked the young man?  The old Dominican just smiled and said:  “You met any Albigensians lately??”

 

     Our readings today offer us a timely message, because they invite us to reflect on our Christian vocation--of our calling to follow Jesus Christ, when society calls us to do just the opposite.  Ours are times that call us to live out the truths of our religion with greater love, with greater joy and with new enthusiasm.  The readings today remind us that every one of us has a vocation. Jesus is urging each one of us, just as he did to the people in the Gospel today, to follow him.  Jesus is constantly passing by; he’s always inviting us to join him, to follow him.  He is active and alive in our lives. He’s a true, divine Person. He is not just some teacher who lived a long time ago. (remember the Gospel last week when Jesus asked his apostles:  who do the people say that I am, and some said Elijah or one of the ancient prophets?)  He’s present in our lives and close to us in his love... Today! Right now.  He wants to have a personal relationship with each one of us. He’s calling us to love him just as he loves each one of us. We are called to leave our old life behind. We are called to have new priorities. But just as Jesus told the man in today’s Gospel, following him doesn’t mean we are going to have an easy life.

      We heard that in the first reading.  The prophet Elijah calls Elisha to follow him. And we heard that striking image of Elisha killing all his farm animals and setting his farming equipment on fire.  For us that looks too extreme an action to take, doesn’t it?  But it’s there to show us what it means to be a disciple. It was a radical decision to follow Jesus back in those days, and, unfortunately, it seems to be becoming more and more radical with each passing day in our own lives.  And understand; it’s not that God is calling us to destroy our past.  But he is calling us to move in a new direction. We cannot let our past hold us back. We need to let go of things. We cannot hold onto things. We cannot try to follow Jesus only half-way.  He’s calling us to seriously follow him, with our whole heart, soul, mind and body.  And God comes into our lives — right where we are.  He comes to us in the middle of everything else we are doing.  The prophet Elijah goes out and finds Elisha in the fields, where he is working. Jesus encounters people as he is walking through their towns and villages. He finds them in their homes, with their families, fishing on the shore.  And that’s the way he is with each one of us. Jesus comes to us where we are — in our homes, at work, at the grocery store. He comes to us in the people we meet, in the circumstances of our days. These are the places where he calls us and says to each one of us: Follow me!

   And remember, Jesus is not calling us to leave our work or to turn our back on our families. Just the opposite. He is calling us to follow him where we are — in our families, through our families, in our work, through our work.  In the daily realities of our lives.  So whatever it is that we do every day, that’s what we have to transform into a place where we find and where we share Jesus with the people around us.  When we’re at home, when we’re with our children or our spouses, or at work or with our neighbors.  Every moment, we have a chance to follow Jesus... or not.  Every moment we have a chance to serve God…or not.  Jesus says to the man in the Gospel: You, go and proclaim the Kingdom of God. And, my brothers and sisters, he’s saying that to each one of us today.  But realize this: we don’t have to “go” anywhere. We can proclaim, and we are called to proclaim, the Kingdom of God wherever we are.  Because we can follow Jesus right where we’re at.  How do we do that? By saying “yes” to what Jesus is asking of us. By serving others. By trying to make people’s lives a little easier, a little happier.  Because, my brothers and sisters, people should notice as they meet us, as they relate to us, that we are followers of Jesus Christ; that we are Christians! “They’ll know we are Christians… (by our love.)

Our homes, our work, our ball-fields—these are the places where we meet Jesus; where we take up our cross and follow him. What a beautiful message that happens in our daily lives; in the ordinary things that we do.

As St. Paul tells us in the second reading, our vocation is true freedom! You were called for freedom, brothers and sisters.  But we also know that our Christian vocation is a challenge. It’s a struggle every day.  So let’s keep pressing forward in our Christian lives. Let us tell Jesus today, as the people in today’s readings, that we want to follow him wherever he goes, wherever he wants to lead us.

 

LOVE

   Our second reading today is probably the most popular wedding reading of all time.  Show of hands—how many of you used this reading at your wedding? I know we did. It is, after all, a wonderful reading.  The thing is, St. Paul wasn’t thinking about weddings when he wrote it.  In fact, he wasn’t even focusing on what love is like.  Rather, he was telling the Corinthians that, in the end, nothing matters more than the answer to the question: are you living out the love of Christ?

      But why did Paul write to the Corinthians about the importance of love?  In order to answer that question, we have to know a little about Corinth at this time in history.  During this period it was a thriving Christian community—at least on the surface.  Most of the believers in Corinth were extremely excited about their faith. There were people with tremendous gifts in that community.  There were teachers, healers, and even some who could speak in tongues.  There were profits.  The word of God was being proclaimed “religiously,” pardon the pun.  The people prayed, and preached the wonderful gospel message that Jesus had Risen from the dead, and that all who believed in him and followed his teachings would live eternally with him in Paradise.  It seemed that everything needed for a vibrant church was happening there in Corinth—except for one thing…the most important thing: the Church in Corinth didn't have enough love in it. Or, as Father Vernon used to say from this very ambo, they talked the talk but didn’t always walk the walk.  In spite of all the wonderful things that were happening there; in spite of all the spiritual wisdom that was shared; in spite of all the faith that the people claimed to have, some very “non-Christian” things were going on in Corinth.  Two elders dragged each other off to court instead of making peace with one another; folks ate and drank too much while others went hungry; public disagreements about which of the apostles who visited Corinth were the best and which were the worst; people believing that their contribution to the community of faith was more significant than the contributions being made by others, and therefore their views on things should be considered more important.  In short, people in Corinth were, at times, rude to one another, impatient, arrogant, greedy, selfish, egotistical, and unkind.  This, even though they preached the Word of God regularly and had otherwise displayed some wonderful spiritual gifts.

 

  And so Paul writes to the people of Corinth about love in a way that is perhaps hard to understand.  Listen to what Paul says: “If you have faith so as to move mountains, but do not have love - you are nothing.  If you give away everything you own, even handing your body over, but do not have love, you have gained nothing.”  Basically, if you have tremendous faith in God and hope in the resurrection, but do not have love, you’re out of luck. Wow, right?

 

  So love is kind of a big deal. It’s the test of our faith.  Just as “they’ll know we are Christians by our love,” by the same token, they’ll know we’re not very good Christians by our lack of love.  And so we must ask ourselves: “what is love?” Love involves seeking the highest good for God's creation.  God first, neighbor second, self…last.  Love is being more interested in the well-being of others than our own.  It is seeing everyone through the lens of Christ, and treating them as Christ has treated us . And so, it’s not for me to judge you, or for you to judge me, but rather, we must look at ourselves and ask: am I focused on Christ, or on myself?  Am I showing the love of God to others--doing what Jesus would do, and allowing Jesus to work through me?  Or, am I allowing my feelings, my frustrations, my needs, my pride, to dominate my interactions with others?

 

  Let’s look at the reading again, and see if we can put ourselves in the place of love…    

I am patient.  I am kind. I am not jealous. I am not pompous. I am not inflated.  I am not rude. I do not seek my own interests. I am not quick-tempered. I do not brood over injury.  I do not rejoice over wrongdoing but rejoice with the truth.

I bear all things. I believe all things. I hope all things. I endure all things.

 

That sounds really hard, doesn’t it?  But we could very easily insert Jesus’ name in place of love, couldn’t we?  God is love.  Jesus is love.  And he can help us be more like him, if we will affix our gaze on him. Jesus abides in us.  He’s in my heart and yours, ready to help us love as he loves us.  And the way we do that is to be focused on him and on his example; to ask ourselves as we open our mouths or move our hands--is this what Jesus would say?  Is this what Jesus would do? Remember those bracelets that people wore, WWJD?

 

  What about on those occasions when you don't feel loving?  Do the caring thing anyway.  Don't feel like being kind?  Say something nice about the person who is being rude to you anyway.  Don't think that someone else's plan will work as good as yours?  Try doing it their way anyway.  Don't think you can possibly do what God is calling you to do? Start doing it… anyway.  Strive for the greater gifts--the greatest of which is love. Strive for it--and live as if you have it--for the truth is, you do.  Christ died to bring love to you and to show you what it’s like, and he rose from the dead on the third day to show that it's power is greater than the power of sin and death.  As Pope Francis said recently in his message for Lent:  “Love alone is the answer to that yearning for infinite happiness.”

 

 

    For Paul, love was the base of Christianity, and the measure of its success.  It is the greatest of all the virtues; it is the virtue that most makes us human.  If we want to change the world we live in today, we need to find ways to make love visible in the world. We can say we have love, but it’s in the doing of all those other things that makes love a reality.  If we are patient with the cashier at the grocery store…if we are kind to the homeless person asking for money…if we are not jealous of our neighbor and his fancy new car—or pompous about all of our possessions…if we are not rude to the “foreigners” who just moved in across the street…if we put the interests of our spouse, our children, our parents, ahead of our own.  These are all simple signs of love in action.  Simple, but not necessarily easy.

   When you look up the word “love” in the dictionary, it’s classified as a noun.  I remember being taught as a young boy that a noun is a “thing” and a verb is an “action word.”  Each one of us is charged by Jesus Christ to make “love” an action word; not just something we have, but something we choose to do…every day.  So whether you read St. Paul, or listen to Sir Paul…George, John, and Ringo, all we really need is love

Was Jesus ever grounded by Mary or Joseph?

 Do you think Jesus was ever grounded by Mary or Joseph?                        What do you think? Do you think Jesus ever got put in time-out?  Because if he did, this would surely have been the time.  Can you imagine?  Those of you who are parents or grandparents…can you imagine the horror Mary and Joseph experienced once they realized that their twelve year-old boy was missing?!  I’ll bet many of you, if not most of you, have experienced that same terror.  I know Kyle and I have.  I think we’ve “temporarily misplaced” each of our five kids at one time or another, for varying lengths of time, in locations with varying degrees of perceived danger.  You know the feeling…sheer panic.  Its almost like you don’t breathe until they’re safe in your arms…right?

    Now let’s think about Mary and Joseph.  They’ve gone to Jerusalem for the Passover—just like they’d done so many times before.  It had gotten to be routine.  But this time, after an entire day of traveling and looking for their son, they came to the horrifying realization that he was not with them!  So they immediately returned to Jerusalem to search for their son—God’s son.  A search that lasted three days.  Three agonizing days!  Surely, with each passing hour, with each passing day, their fears intensified.  For one of us, it would be as if we’d left our 12 year-old to fend for himself in New York City, or Chicago.  Finally, thanks be to God, they find him!  And what does Mary say to Jesus?  “Son, why have you done this to us?  Your father and I have been looking for you with great anxiety.”  Why have you done this to us?  Hear the accusatory nature of that question; hear the extreme hurt in Mary’s words to her son.  She didn’t just say:  why did you do this; or how did this happen?  No, she said why have you done this to us?  His curt answer didn’t help matters much either, as Luke says that they did not understand what he had said to them.  In spite of this though, Luke says that “Mary kept all of these things in her heart”…in other words, the good and the bad.

     On this the feast of the Holy Family, we are challenged to look at what it means to be a family.  When we enter the church, our eyes are immediately drawn to the beautiful manger scene here in front of the atlar.   During this time of year, we tend to sentimentalize the Holy Family – they become figures of plaster and ceramic, not of flesh and blood. We forget: they weren’t that different from us.   They were holy, yes.  But they were also human.  Their lives were far from perfect; far from problem-free.  The story of the Holy Family is the story of life not always turning out as expected.  It’s the story of a teenage mother being visited by an angel and then conceiving a child before she was married.  It’s the story of a distraught Joseph, confronting scandal, planning on divorce.  It’s the story of a family forced to become refugees, living as immigrants in the land that once held their ancestors as slaves.  As we heard in today’s gospel, it’s the story of a missing child, and days of anxious searching by his parents.  And it’s the story of a man’s violent death–a death watched by a mother filled with helplessness and unimaginable sorrow.  This family was holy.  But it was also human.   We need to be reminded of this in this Christmas season as we are asked to strive to be like them.  The Holy Family is indeed a perfect model for us, but their life was far from perfect.

     The Christmas season is indeed one of light and joy– but it is also one of darkness and despair.  What do I mean?  Friday, we celebrated the birth of the Savior of the world!  And then yesterday, the Church commemorated the feast of the first martyr, St. Stephen, who was stoned to death because of his faith.  Today, we celebrate the Holy Family, but then tomorrow, we mark the feast of the Holy Innocents--the children slaughtered by Herod.   The joy of Christ’s birth is suddenly tempered by tragic reminders of why the Incarnation was necessary.  There is an interconnectedness of light and darkness; of life and of death.   I was reminded of that connection on Christmas Eve.  After the 7pm mass, we had a family picture taken right over here.  We’re in the center of the picture, with these beautiful banners hanging over our right shoulders, and this almost life-sized manger to our left.  But back behind us, almost hidden in the picture, is Jesus, crucified on the cross.  Right over there.  Yes, there was a light shining on Jesus Christ crucified just as there was on the baby Jesus in the manger.    In the stable, the mother Mary looks down at a life beginning; at the foot of the cross, she looks up at a life ending.  It’s just a few steps here from the wood of the manger to the wood of the cross.  But in so many ways, the two singular events are inseparable.   One led inevitably to the other. Joy and sorrow are almost side by side, linked by sacrifice, by faith, and by love.  It’s the story of our salvation.  And it’s the story of the Holy Family.

     The juxtaposition of those two images in this church, the crèche and the crucifix, serves as a powerful lesson for this feast. We realize that when we speak of the Holy Family, we speak of a family that struggled and suffered, like so many of us.  But: this family also knew profound hope.  They trusted completely in God.  Each one of us is called to that kind of trust... And the Holy Family is with us.  In our time, they stand beside all who worry, who struggle, who search, who pray.  The Holy Family stands beside parents anxious about their children, worrying for their welfare.  The Holy Family walks with immigrants and refugees separated from those they love.  The Holy Family comforts teenage mothers and single parents; and consoles the prisoner, the outcast, the bullied, the scorned—and the parents who love them.  And they offer solace and compassion to any mother or father grieving over the loss of a child.  This Christmas, they weep with the parents and family members of victims of terrorist attacks in Paris and in California, as well as those who lost their lives by natural disaster.  Jesus, Mary, and Joseph share our burdens.  But they also uplift us by their example.. For you see, in all of their trials, Jesus, Mary, and Joseph were never alone.  God was always with them.  They endured by His grace.  They prayed. They hoped. They trusted in God’s will.  We might ask ourselves where we can find that kind of peace and purpose in our own families, in our own lives.  One answer is in Paul’s beautiful letter to the Colossians.  It speaks eloquently of love—but not romantic love.  This letter is about how to form a healthy and holy Christian community.  And from Paul’s words, we can draw lessons about how to form a healthy and holy Christian family.  “Put on compassion,” Paul tells us, “kindness, humility, gentleness   and patience… and over all these, put on love; that is, the bond of perfection..”It’s just that simple — and just that difficult.  I’m sure the Holy Family had moments when living those virtues seemed hard, or even impossible.  But they did things many of us don’t.  They listened to angels.  They dreamed.  And they gave themselves fully to God.  They made their lives a prayer.

     When we find ourselves overwhelmed, we need to remember to look toward the crèche for help—to Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.   They are our model for living.   But we need to see them completely, remembering the closeness and reality of the cross.  That was their life and it’s ours, too.  Yet, through all their hardships, in times of anxiety and difficulty, persecution and tragedy—times very much like our own here today–they showed us how to be people of faith, people of forgiveness, people of love.  They show us, in other words, how to be holy.  May God bless each of our families, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit,  Amen.

What do you want me to do for you?

 “What do you want me to do for you?”   Can you imagine??  What would be YOUR response to that question if that happened to YOU?!  Let’s think about that for a second.  Say you go to the Perpetual Adoration Chapel.  You genuflect and lower your head toward the floor as a sign of reverence, and when you straighten up, Jesus is standing there in front of you!  Before you’ve even had a chance to pray for whatever is was that brought you there, Jesus asks:  What do you want me to do for you?  What do you say?  What do you do?  How do you answer?  Let’s look to the Gospels for help.

    In the Gospel last Sunday, James and John asked Jesus to do what they requested of Him, and Jesus asked them:  What do you want me to do for you?  Their answer?  When you come into your glory, we wish to sit, one at your right, and the other at you left.  A selfish request, no? The Gospel said that the other apostles became indignant at these two for making such a request.  It became a teaching moment for Jesus, as he responded that anyone who wishes to be first must be the slave of all.  Not exactly the answer James and John were looking for.  Actually, the Gospel from the week before carries the same message.  The rich young man runs up to Jesus and asks what he must do to have eternal life, telling Jesus  that he has kept all of the commandments since childhood—no doubt hoping that he has already done enough.  But when Jesus tells him that he must go and sell his belongings and give the money to the poor, the man goes away sad—apparently not willing to part with his worldly possessions. So although Jesus does not ask  “what do you want me to do for you,” it is clear that the man wanted Jesus to promise him eternal life—which Jesus did not do.  So the young man leaves—selfishly not wanting to part with his “stuff.”

Then finally we come to Bartimaeus.  So Jesus is heading through Jericho on his way to Jerusalem, sizeable crowd in tow, when this beggar along the roadside calls out:  “Jesus, Son of David, have pity on me!”  Folks try to shut him up, but he only cries the louder:  “Son of David, have pity on me!”  At this point he is risking being beaten or stomped or worse by continuing to harass Jesus when he’s been told to be quiet.  He persists.  Jesus stops.  “Call him.”  So members of the crowd—the same crowd that was threatening him with bodily harm if he didn’t stop yelling at Jesus—these men go to Bartimaeus all happy and supportive of him all of a sudden and tell him:  “Take courage, get up.  Jesus is calling you.”  (SIDE NOTE) Let me just point out that we see this happen all the time in our own lives.  People acting a certain way; taking a certain position because they think that’s what society wants, or what will benefit them the most…but as soon as they perceive that they’re in the minority, or that the “in crowd” disagrees with them, they do a complete 180.  You can just see it, can’t you?  One minute they’re yelling angrily at Bartimaeus, telling him to be quiet; the next they are all smiles as they help him up.  He’s no longer a trouble-maker, because Jesus is interested in him, so they suddenly are, too.  Hypocrites.  Ok, so back to the story…Jesus asks him:  What do you want me to do for you?  And Bartimaeus says:  “Master, I want to see.”  “Go your way, your faith has saved you.”  And he immediately gains his sight and follows Jesus.

    In the preceding two Gospels, Jesus is approached by persons of status with their requests—a rich man, and two of his hand-picked favorites, James and John.  Remember, this is happening as Jesus is traveling to Jerusalem to be crucified; so James and John have been at his side for three years; these are 2 of the 3 that Jesus takes with him when he separates himself from the others.  They clearly are two of Jesus’ closest friends.    Yet in both Gospels, Jesus does not grant the people what they seek.  But here’s this low-life beggar…and by the way, in those times, beggars were very common.  One estimate I read said that Jericho had a population of roughly 5000, and had as many as 500 beggars!  So they were everywhere.  But this one beggar is singled-out from the hundreds of beggars, and Jesus miraculously cures him of his blindness.  Bartimaeus’ request was selfish, too, wasn’t it?  He wanted to see.  But what did he do once Jesus granted his request?  Remember, this is a man who was totally dependent on others.  He could do nothing on his own.  Whether he ate or not depended upon the generosity of others.  So when Jesus granted him his sight, and told him:  “Go on your way, your faith has saved you” what did he do with this sudden, newfound freedom?  He gave it away.  He could have done anything he wanted; gone anywhere he wanted; seen anything he wanted; --but he instead, he chose to remain dependent upon someone else—Jesus.  He rejected the call of the world, to focus on the call of his Savior. 

  So, back to the Chapel.  Jesus, standing in front of you, asks you:  “What do you want me to do for you?”  What will your answer be?  Will you be like the young rich man, and stay attached to your worldly possessions?  The world tries to keep us in the dark; blind to what is good, what is true, what is right, what is holy.  The world says we should focus on what is important to US—that’s what we should strive to attain.  The world wants to hide the light from us—the Light that is Jesus Christ.  Politicians, judges, public officials, the members of the crowd that followed Jesus—they try to manipulate the world so that is serves them and their interests; reflects what they wish the truth would be for their own perceived happiness.  But the truth cannot be changed—and cannot be hidden from those who earnestly seek it.  Jesus is the way, and the truth, and the light.  It is in Him, and Him alone, that we find true happiness.  So, even though none of us will probably ever have that close encounter with Jesus in the chapel, every time we pray, Jesus asks us: “what do you want me to do for you?”  Would that we each could answer like “enlightened” Bartimaeus:  “Master, I want to see.”  See, so that we could know the truth, live the truth, and in turn spread the truth to others, so that, unblinded by worldly things, we might ultimately see…the face of Jesus in paradise. 

 

Thank God for Dirty Dishes

 

A woman was hosting a dinner party, and at the table she asked her six year-

old daughter to say grace. “But, I don’t know what to say,” the girl
responded. “Just say what you hear Mommy say,” replied the mother. The little
girl nodded, bowed her head, and prayed, “Dear Lord, why in the world did I
invite all these people to dinner?”

I think many of us can identify with that mother. The routine of cleaning

and readying our home and the meal saps our energy from things that bring us joy. The pressure mounts, and we get frustrated. We get tired and irritable. We look around at the demands on us, and say, “Oh Lord, why in the world is this on my shoulders?”

     I wonder if Jesus felt that kind of pressure. Everywhere he went, crowds

pressed in on him, demanding his attention. Today’s passage tells the story of
Jesus leaving the crowds behind to find some time alone. The first 10 verses set the stage for us. Jesus and his disciples are in the midst of their great Galilean ministry. In the midst of this ministry, Jesus takes his disciples apart for a break. But, as we heard, the crowd follows Jesus anyway—and it was a large crowd at that.  Then Jesus, testing Phillip, challenges him with a question: “Where can we buy enough food for them to eat?”  This is important, because it tells us that we are to identify, not with Jesus, but with Phillip in this story. Jesus knew the miracle that was coming, just as he knows what’s coming for each one of us every day. That’s his divine right as the Son of God. But it’s not our privilege. We are like Phillip, faced with crowds and asked sometimes what seem to be impossible-to-answer questions. In response to Jesus’ question, Phillip despairs.  “Two hundred days’ wages worth of food would not be enough for each of them to have a little.” Then Andrew appears and tells them that he has found a small boy who is willing to basically share his lunch: five barley loaves and two fish. But that’s all he has, so Andrew despairs, too, saying, “What are these among so many?”  And now Jesus teaches them—and us--a lesson. He instructs the disciples to direct the crowds to sit. What do you think the people were thinking at that moment? Perhaps a hush fell over the crowd as they nestled in the grass fixing their eyes on Jesus.  Listen to what John says next:  “Then Jesus took the loaves, gave thanks, and distributed them….”   Not:  Jesus took the food and blessed it; or prayed over it, but that he took it and gave thanks. This may seem like an insignificant detail, but John gives us a clue that something more important is going on here. Later in John’s gospel we read: “Then some boats from Tiberias landed near the place where the people had eaten the bread after the Lord had given thanks.”  Note that John didn’t say “near the place where the Lord miraculously fed the 5000;” or “near the place where the Lord worked a great wonder,” but “near the place where the people had eaten the bread after the Lord had given thanks.” And so it seems that what was important to John about this event was not the supernatural feeding, but rather the lesson that Jesus taught about thanksgiving.

     Lets take a look at a couple principles of thanksgiving. First, the obvious: be thankful for what you have. Jesus gives thanks for the five loaves and two fish. The miracle hasn’t happened yet, so he’s not thanking God after having fed the 5000. He offers thanksgiving for the blessing that is at hand. Jesus knows full well what is going to come, but his disciples and the watching crowd don’t. All they see is Jesus offering thanks for a meager meal.  Often times in our own lives we encounter discontented people. You know who I’m talking about. You ask them how they’re doing and they say, “You won’t believe what happened to me today…” and then go on to tell you all of the bad things going on in their life. Or when you go out to eat, and ask them how they like their meal, and they have to tell you about the place that does it better. You ask them about their work, and it starts a complaint session on office politics. The sad thing is, their attitude can rub off on us.  Then we’re the ones with a case of criticisms; infected with the “if only’s.” “If only I had this…” “If only he would do that...”

     These days, it is so easy to be discontented with the world in general, and our lives in particular.  But Jesus calls us to be thankful for what we have. Be thankful that you have a roof over your head. Be thankful for the people God has brought into your life. Don’t worry that they’re flawed, because we all are.  Be thankful for the food on your plate each day. We should even be thankful for the challenges that force us to grow. One of our friends has a sign on her kitchen sink that says: “Be thankful for dirty dishes.” (we don’t have that sign in our house, by the way)  So the first lesson we can learn from today’s Gospel is to just be thankful for what we have.

     But being thankful is not enough.  Not only should we be thankful for what we have, but we should realize that gratitude is more action than emotion. What does that mean?  It means we should express our thankfulness, and not keep it to ourselves.  I remember when I was growing up, my mom would always make me write thank-you notes when people gave me gifts.  I didn’t like that at all. But mom was trying to teach me that an expression of gratitude is important. Saying “thank you” is not only good manners, it’s the right thing to do.  So often our prayers are characterized by requests, when really they should be characterized by praise and thanksgiving. The very act of expressing

thankfulness makes us more aware of the blessings that we receive.

     In addition to the principle of thankfulness, there is a principle of

abundance in the Gospel today. There’s not a hard connection between the two. The abundance is not a direct result of the thankfulness. It’s not some kind of formula. Rather, we receive abundantly through God’s good pleasure, and the abundant blessing
comes in his own time. A few observations about the principle of abundance:
First, God’s abundance comes in unexpected ways. None of the gospel
writers gives us any idea how the miracle in today’s gospel actually happened.    Have you ever thought about it?   Did the food miraculously reconstitute itself as it was passed around? Did it stretch as each person tore off a hunk? Was it placed in baskets that suddenly filled to the rim? We simply don’t know. We can be sure that it was unexpected. Certainly the disciples didn’t see it coming. We saw this same truth when Jesus turned water into wine at the wedding of Cana. When Jesus provides abundantly, he often does so through unexpected means. Our challenge then is to keep our minds open enough to receive the abundant blessing when it comes.

Another important fact is that God’s abundance is not to be wasted. Notice Jesus’ instruction in today’s Gospel. He tells his disciples to gather up the fragments that nothing might be wasted. That is a fundamental principle of abundance: not wasting what you have. There is a sense of good stewardship involved here. We have been given abundant blessing, and God calls us to be wise in our use of the blessing, whether it is of time, talent, or treasure.

    Jesus is the source of all that is good in our lives.  There’s nothing wrong with asking him to help us in trying times.  But we must never forget to be grateful for his many blessings in our lives—our families, our friends, our jobs, our FAITH.  So today, when we “pause to add our own intentions,”  along with whatever we seek in the silence of our hearts, let’s all—every one of us—recall how he’s blessed us and showered us with his grace and mercy and love, and say:  Thank you, God.

"Do not be afraid; just have faith."

     The first reading and the Gospel today both deal with death, which is a rather uncomfortable subject for most of us.  You know the old saying:  there are only two things in life that are certain:  death and taxes--not necessarily in that order.  Death is a part of life that we all have to experience.   An older person once told me that he was ready to go anytime.  He was tired, and death no longer frightened him.  I believe that many older persons share his view.  I think it’s a very healthy attitude to have, and is as it should be, for those of us who have faith in the risen Lord.  However, when death comes at an early age, before someone has lived a full life, it seems much more sad and disturbing, and is so much harder to deal with.  In the Gospel today, Jairus was faced with the fact that his young daughter was gravely ill.  The love he had for his daughter forced him to do everything he could to save her life, including seeking out—not a doctor, but a wandering preacher that he heard was able to cure people. Jairus was a synagogue leader, a teacher, a rabbi most likely. He may have heard Jesus speak in the synagogue, or he may only have known about him through reputation.  Nothing, however, would get in the way of his humbling himself and asking for a miracle for his beloved daughter. 

    But, as you know, the Gospel passage today is not only about Jairus and his daughter.  If we think of today’s Gospel as a sandwich, then the two slices of bread make up the story of Jairus and his daughter.  But, as with any sandwich, there’s something in the middle—the filling so to speak.  We see this literary style quite often in the Gospel of Mark.  The story of Jairus begins, but then is interrupted by another story, before we come back to the end of the story of Jairus and his daughter—the other piece of bread.  And the “meat” of this sandwich is an incident where Jesus, on His way to heal the little girl, has an encounter with a woman who had been hemorrhaging for twelve years.  Because she suffered from this condition, she was considered to be unclean, and as such, would not have been able to approach Jesus from the front or she would have been turned away.  So, she literally had to “sneak up” on Jesus from behind.  Just like Jairus, the woman came to Jesus seeking his healing power.  Her faith in Him was so strong that she didn’t think she even needed to ask Jesus to cure her, but only needed to touch his clothing to be made well.  Despite the fact that Jesus was being touched and jostled from all sides as he travelled along, he felt something different when the woman touched him; felt some power leaving him-- so he asked who it was that had touched him.  His question of “Who touched me?” struck fear into the woman.  She knew she was unclean and, according to the law, by touching Jesus had rendered Him unclean as well.  Still, the woman truthfully admitted to Jesus what she had done.  And, instead of being angry with her, Jesus praised her for her great faith, and told her it was by that faith that she was cured.  Mark relates through this story the power of Jesus to heal, because in a little while Jesus’ power is going to be seen as something even greater--not just to heal, but to raise someone--Jairus’ twelve-year-old daughter-- from the dead.

     And now we come back to the other slice of bread on the sandwich.  Jairus’ daughter has died, and some people from Jairus’ home came to tell Jesus that he doesn’t need to come any more, that it was too late.  In response to this news, Jesus speaks only seven words, but they are words which we should memorize and apply over and over to our own lives as well—especially whenever things are going badly for us:  Do not be afraid; just have faith.  I love the way Mark tells the story of Jairus, because he keeps it vivid but simple, and sandwiching the healing of the hemorrhaging woman in the middle of it prepares us for the even greater miracle which is to come—the raising of the little girl from the dead.

     In our first reading from Wisdom, we are reminded that “God did not make death, nor does he rejoice in the destruction of the living.” Our God is a God of life, and we should be a people of life. The kingdom of heaven we talk about so much starts right here, right now, by us living the life that Jesus taught us to live.  In the responsorial psalm today, the psalmist says “you preserved me from those going down into the pit…and changed my mourning into dancing.”   Our God is a God of life.  All we have to do is believe and live! The kingdom of heaven is here… now… if we give into it, live it, love in it, and never fear. That is the continuing Good News that Jesus preached during his lifetime here on Earth, and the Good News that needs to sustain us as we move toward our own death and the eternal life that follows it.  Do not be afraid;   just have faith.   

     For those of us who follow Christ, death is an end, but not the end.  It is an end to our life as we know it here on Earth.  But as believers, we know that it is merely a transition to the life we were meant to enjoy from the moment of our conception—eternal life in heaven with God, and all the angels and saints.  Death can be a very scary proposition, that’s true.  But if we take the words of Jesus to heart, the sting of death is removed and our focus is on our journey toward heaven.  Fear can often be a crippling emotion in our lives if we allow ourselves to be stricken with it.  We must fight the urge to be afraid in this life.  We must trust Jesus and his admonition: Do not be afraid; just have faith.  We must have faith, and through this faith conquer our fears.  Like many things we talk about, it’s simple, but not easy.  That’s where prayer comes in.  Visits to the Perpetual Adoration Chapel.  Reconciliation.  Mass and the reception of Holy Communion.  All of these strengthen our relationship with God, and therefore strengthen our ability to resist fear and to have faith in Him.

     The world seems to be persecuting us Christians and our beliefs at every turn.  The latest is the Supreme Court’s ruling redefining marriage.  I was a teenager when Roe v. Wade was decided, and so I really don’t remember being profoundly affected by the decision.  But I imagine the same sort of feelings of persecution were prevalent among Catholics then as are today.  How can man purport to change God’s law?  Well, Catholics, as well as other Christians, have continued to fight against abortion for over forty years, through prayer, education, and legislation.  When we say at the end of mass:  “Go and announce the Gospel of the Lord” it’s not just a way to end the celebration.  It’s a charge from Jesus himself.  He told his disciples to go out to all the world and spread the Good News.  If we are followers of Christ—disciples—then we, too, must share His Good News.  Just because a court of man says someone has a right to do something, it doesn’t mean that it is right for them to do so in the eyes of God.  And so the words of Jesus in today’s Gospel—do not be afraid, just have faith—are for each and every one of us as we continue to live our lives according to God’s law and His desire for us.  From the very beginning, God gave man free will.  Each of us has to decide daily how we will exercise that freedom.  If we follow Jesus, then we must have faith in the face of fear; trusting in His plan for our salvation.  Heaven is our goal, and we should do everything in our power to get there, and to bring as many people with us as we can.  And so we cannot remain silent.  We have to…lovingly…share what we know to be the truth with everyone we meet.  Whatever the issue may be, we must be soldiers for Christ and spread his Good News, because, not only do we have the right to do so, but it’s the right thing to do….

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Divine Mystery of the Holy Trinity

 In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, Amen.  In other words, in the name of the Trinity.  Every prayer we say includes the three persons of the Trinity.  We pray to God the Father, through his Son Jesus in the Holy Spirit.  The Trinity is our origin, and our goal. 

The mystery of the Trinity should at once baffle us and engender sentiments of love within our hearts.  It reminds me of when Bishop Baker came to celebrate the Sacrament of Confirmation when my daughter Grace was in the 8^th grade.  For one of his questions he asked Grace:  “What is the Trinity?”  She meekly gave him her answer, but he couldn’t quite get it all, so he said:  I’m sorry, I didn’t understand.”      “That’s ok Bishop,” she said, “it’s a mystery, you’re not supposed to…”

    The Trinity is our origin and our goal.  The Jews of Christ's day were totally astounded by the revelation that not only was Jesus the Son of God - there was more - there was a Holy Spirit, who constituted the God-head along with the Father.  If you examine the Scriptures, the first person to reveal that we could even call God "Our Father" was Jesus.  Even Moses only knew God as "I am who am," he did not know about the Son and the Holy Spirit as we understand these persons who make up the Trinity.  This is exactly what St. Paul refers to in our second reading from Romans.  We cry out, "Abba - Father!"  “Abba” is translated as being more intimate than “Father;” it’s more like saying: "Daddy."  This term implies a special closeness that we can have with God the Father, which to this point in salvation history was simply unheard of. 

 

   So, how should we understand the Trinity?  It's a question many Christians ask.  Catholic doctrine teaches that there are three persons in one God who all share the same nature.  Remember that we are talking about three persons in one God; not three gods, or three faces of one god. Three persons, one God.  St. Patrick tried to explain it with a shamrock.  Each section is distinct, and yet each is of the same nature of "shamrockness" as the other sections within the flower.  Yet the analogy falls short because the shamrock can be divided into three parts, and God cannot.  Here's another analogy: You can have three business partners in one venture.  Each has the ability of the other two - to sell, to hire, to lease, etc.  Yet, each is distinct.  This gives us the idea of how three persons can share the same abilities and do all things together, and yet remain distinct.  This analogy falls short as well, for the partners existed before the partnership and could “be” without it, whereas the three persons of the Trinity could never be apart from each other.  Also, whereas business partners can do things on their own, the Trinity always acts together.  Our human minds are simply unable to fully understand the Trinity.  That is where Faith comes in--just like in our understanding of the Eucharist – where we are taught  that Jesus is really and substantially present--body, blood, soul and divinity--another teaching that is hard to grasp but which we know to be true, since it was revealed to us by Jesus.  And, where Jesus is, so are the Father and the Holy Spirit.  There is a special dynamic at work here:  Father loving Son; Son loving Father totally and unconditionally from all eternity.  And the agent of love between them that is breathed forth is the Holy Spirit.  In prayer, we should be asking God for the grace to be a part of the relationship, the communication, between the three persons of the Trinity-- to be more than a spectator, but rather, an active participant in the very inner life of God.

     There are two main reasons why knowledge of the Trinity should be important to us.  First, it allows us to know more and more about God, and we can't love Him if we don't know Him.  If we truly love God, we will be compelled to know more and more about who He is, not merely who we imagine Him to be.  If we truly love God, we more easily desire to hear His voice, not merely our own.  God shows us who love is.  When we say that God (or the Trinity) is love, what we are really saying is that love is not merely an aspect of God.  Rather, love IS who God IS in Himself - three persons loving each other in totality.  God didn’t create us and then insert love into the picture.  Rather, the love within the Trinity was there from all eternity, and in this love everything else was created, including mankind.

The second reason why knowledge of the Trinity is important for us is that it allows us to know more about ourselves and who we should be.  Since we are created in God's image, the Trinity reveals that we are meant to be in relation with other persons.  We were created to love and to be loved.  Being in relation is part of what it means to be human.  The Sacrament of Holy Matrimony is modeled after the Trinity.  The relationship between parents and children is, too—as are other familial relationships.  The Trinity is our origin and our goal.

 I was at Walmart the other day buying some groceries and I used the automatic checkout—you know, where you are checked out by a machine?  I was thrilled that I could do this all by myself and not have to wait in line for a cashier.  But then it hit me:  I went through the entire store without really having any interaction with another human being.  Those of you who do your banking online know what I’m talking about—it’s the same thing.  I used to know the names and some details about all of the tellers who worked in my bank—and they knew mine.  Now, I barely see them, and really am just a number.  We need to guard against this de-personalization of modern society. The Trinity shows us that we were created to be relational beings.  We were not meant to go through life alone, as a “rugged individual.”  St. John Paul II said:  “Man…cannot fully find himself except through a sincere gift of himself.”  In today’s Gospel, Jesus sends the disciples out specifically to deal with other human beings.  It’s not enough for them to live pious, devoted lives; they must seek out people and bring them to Him.  We must therefore take His instruction to baptize in the name of the Father, of the Son and of the Holy Spirit in a very broad sense.  It does not merely refer to our church baptism; it includes the entire work of the church, the process of inviting people to experience the risen Christ in all of its sacraments.  Lastly, the Trinity reveals to us that love is at the essence of each person's calling, and our vocations to marriage, the single life or to the priesthood and religious life are the deepest way of living out that love. 

     The Trinity is our origin and our goal.  Florence Chadwick was a world-class swimmer, the first woman to swim the English Channel in both directions.  In 1952 Florence attempted to swim from Catalina Island to the California coast.  After about 15 hours a thick fog set in. Exhausted, she kept swimming, but finally told her mother who was in a boat next to her that she couldn't go any further.  When they brought her aboard she realized she was just one mile from her destination.  Two months later she tried again.  Just as it had the first time, the fog set in; but this time she kept an image of the shoreline in her mind.  Although equally exhausted this time around, she kept going and succeeded in reaching her goal.   What a difference it makes if we have an image of our destination in mind!  And our image is not a shoreline, but heaven.

 

     You and I sometimes get weary or discouraged and want to stop.  The future seems cloudy and bleak.  But right beyond the fog that is today’s anti-church society is the shore, in this case, the Trinity.  It includes Jesus in his full, glorified humanity--the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity.  The one who promised: “And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.”  And it includes God the Father, and the Holy Spirit.  The Trinity, three persons in one God, who we will never fully understand, but who we believe in and worship by faith. 

   Something else we have a hard time understanding is when a young person, full of life and love, is suddenly and tragically taken from us.  Toni Piccinich, a parishioner here, was killed Friday night by a drunk driver.  She was 19 years old.  In situations like this, we cannot help but ask “Why?”  It’s a question we simply cannot answer.  But, just like with the Trinity, when we are faced with something we do not understand, something that doesn’t seem fair, we must rely on our Faith.  We must turn to, and trust in, God.  And we must take comfort in the beautiful words of Jesus in today’s Gospel:  “behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.”  Jesus is with us as we grieve.  Jesus is with Toni’s family in this devastating time.  And yes, Jesus is with Toni; more importantly, our faith tells us that Toni is in heaven, with Jesus, and all the angels and saints.

Eternal rest grant unto her O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon her.  May her soul, and the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace.  In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen