Month: July 2009

  • Sixteenth Sunday of Ordinary Time [B]

    Sixteenth Sunday of Ordinary Time [B]

    Today’s readings

    You know, as a shepherd of souls, whenever I hear Jeremiah’s words, I am given more than just a little pause.  These words quite properly give me pause to think about the ways that I have led people – is this the way God would want it done, or have I scattered the sheep and driven them away.  It’s not a bad little examination of conscience for any of us, because in some ways we are all called to be leaders at one time or another in our lives.  Maybe we are leading our families, or leading others in our business, or leading at school or other activities.  We are all called upon to be good leaders when we’re in those positions, leaders who help others to know that they are special and loved and needed.

    Today’s scriptures call us to look also at the people we have decided to follow as our leaders.  And I don’t think there’s any shortage of those who would lead us.  The problem for most of us is deciding which of the many voices out there we will choose to follow.  I think in some ways that’s a big project of our lives, the focus of our growing up.  Many of us would prefer to be “free spirits,” independent souls who don’t look to anyone for advice or instruction.  And that’s interesting except for the fact that it only goes so far.  None of us have ever waded through this life before, so we cannot claim to know how to do it right the first time out.  At some point, we have to look to someone else and claim those ideas as our own, which, of course, they aren’t.

    So again, we’re back to square one.  Who are we going to follow, who will be our leader?  Our society gives us so many options.  We could pick “heroes” from the world of sports, or entertainment, and then eventually we find out their flaws and their worldview doesn’t really help us any.  We might pick wealthy CEOs or leaders of industry, but then money doesn’t buy happiness, as we quite often see in their own lives.  We may turn to self-help books or sites on the Internet, except that they very often make things seem way easier than they actually are.  We may even turn to people on television like Oprah, Dr. Phil, or – God help us – Martha Stewart.  But as wise as they may seem to be, they really don’t care about us personally.  They are content if we tune them in, increase their ratings, and buy from their advertisers.  They aren’t ever going to tell us anything their sponsors don’t want us to hear.

    So we are pretty much in the same position as Jeremiah the prophet.  He was chastising those who were supposed to be in charge of shepherding the people, namely the monarchy.  The king and his court were responsible for the people, only time after time they proved that they were no more up to the challenge of being objective, compassionate shepherds than Martha Stewart is for us.  The problem wasn’t, and isn’t, a lack of leaders, but a lack of leaders who really care about the people they are leading.

    And so it is the Gospel, of course, that gives us the answer to our quest today.  Jesus sees that the people are like “sheep without a shepherd” and he absolutely intends to fill that role for them.  His reaction could have been one of irritation.  Here his disciples had just returned from the missionary journey he sent them out on in last week’s Gospel, and he wants to have them come away to a quiet place, to rest, and debrief.  But they don’t even have that opportunity.  But seeing that they were lost without a shepherd to lead them, he isn’t irritated, instead he has pity on them.

    Now let’s talk a bit about this word “pity.”  I think that word has all kinds of negative connotations for us.  Pity, when we hear about it, almost speaks of a kind of condescension, or at least a begrudging kind of granting of a favor.  But that’s clearly not the kind of pity that Jesus has on the crowd before him.  The Greek word that we translate as “pity” here is splanchnizomai.  Now I’m not a Greek scholar, so I’m not bringing this up to dazzle you with my command of New Testament Greek.  Instead I offer it because I think it helps us shed a little light on what this word really means. Splanchnizomai is an example of onomatopoeia, which, if you’re smarter than a fifth grader, you will remember means a kind of word that sounds like what it means.

    Splanchnizomai has this kind of deep, guttural sound, which makes us think about a kind of deep, guttural reaction to something.  That’s the kind of pity Jesus has for the crowds, a deep, guttural compassion that wells up from deep inside him and makes him want to respond.  This is such a strong word in Greek that Mark only uses it in his Gospel to refer to Jesus, or to describe the feeling that Jesus is having.

    So in today’s Gospel, Jesus has this kind of pity on those crowds who desperately were following him for lack of anyone to lead them.  They were sheep without a shepherd, and he would be that shepherd, choosing to shepherd them by teaching them “many things.”

    This reaction of care and blessing answers the question of who exactly is the true shepherd. We cannot possibly miss it from today’s Scripture readings. If the monarchy of Jeremiah’s time had abandoned and misled the people, then Jesus in his time was all about bringing people back together and leading them to the Father. In another place, Jesus says that he is the way, the truth and the life, and the only way to the Father. He is the shepherd that the people have been longing for, all the way back to Jeremiah’s day and before.

    Back in our own day, we have to come to see Jesus as our true shepherd also. We too, are like sheep without a shepherd at times. We have all sorts of trials in our lives. We struggle with finding the right spouse for marriage. We debate the best ways to raise our children. We agonize over the best neighborhoods in which to live and the choice of a school in which to educate our children. We struggle with the illness or death of those we love. We have problems at work, or lose a job. Life can often be uncertain at best, and we need direction to follow the right way. The good news is that Jesus has splanchnizomai for us too. He longs to gather us up, to teach us “many things,” and to lead us home to the Father. That’s the way it was always supposed to work in the first place.

    The problem is that we are not exactly like sheep, are we? We have our own wills and we tend often to ignore the voice that’s leading us in the right direction. It’s long past time that we all followed Jesus to a deserted, out-of-the-way place and put our complete trust in his love and guidance. We might not be able to take a week-long retreat or find a desert in which to come to Jesus. But we can come here to Church, maybe more than just on Saturday or Sunday. We have available the great gift of daily Mass, and a church building that is open much of the day. We have the Sacrament of Reconciliation to help us to come back to Jesus and to receive the Church’s direction in our troubles. We have the Blessed Sacrament in our Tabernacle in the Chapel where we can pray and actually be in the physical presence of our Lord. Brothers and sisters in Christ, this parish church is our out-of-the-way place. This is the place where we can steal away even for just a few minutes in our hectic day and be one with the Lord. And even if we cannot come to church on a given day, maybe we can find the space in our homes to close the door and be alone with Jesus for a few minutes.

    The important piece is that Jesus is our true shepherd. He is the only voice that has the splanchnizomai to lead us in the right direction, which is home to the Father. We must hear this and turn to Christ our shepherd with the words of the psalmist today: “My shepherd is the Lord; nothing indeed shall I want.”

  • Friday of the Fifteenth Week of Ordinary Time

    Friday of the Fifteenth Week of Ordinary Time

    Today’s readings

    Today, Jesus gives us what might be considered to be his mission statement: “I desire mercy, not sacrifice.”  Or at least we might consider this to be his statement of what he wants from us, his people.  And we, like the Pharisees, might be tempted to make all sorts of sacrifices.  That might mean sacrificing our time to work long hours to attain our goals.  Or maybe we sacrifice to give to the poor, or spend more time at Church, or whatever.  None of those things is bad in and of themselves, in fact, depending on our intentions, they are probably good things.  But if we don’t have mercy in the mix, if we don’t then also extend God’s love to our family, coworkers, or whoever God puts in our presence today, then we’ve blown it.  It’s all for nothing.  But, if we put mercy first, if we forgive as we have been forgiven and love as we have been loved, then we’ve gotten our mission statement right, too.

  • St. Bonaventure, Bishop and Doctor

    St. Bonaventure, Bishop and Doctor

    Today’s readings

    St. Bonaventure is known for his theological writings with regard to holiness.  He was chosen to be minister general of the Franciscan Order in 1257, and devoted himself to bringing the Order to a closer living of the principles of St. Francis.  This was especially important to him, since he was cured of a serious illness as a child through the prayers of St. Francis himself.  Bonaventure is known for his writings, which are very close to a kind of mysticism, even though he was a very active preacher and teacher, and not a strict contemplative as you might expect a mystic to be.

    Bonaventure’s life and faith is a great witness to us, because it is our life’s vocation to make our working and our prayer one seamless garment.  In today’s Gospel, Jesus wishes to reveal the Father to us, very often through the work of great saints like Bonaventure.  May we have that childlike faith today that is open to the Father, through Jesus, and through the saints.

  • Blessed Kateri Tekakwitha

    Blessed Kateri Tekakwitha

    Today’s readings

    Kateri Tekakwitha was born in 1656 to a Christian Algonquin woman. Her parents died in a smallpox epidemic – which left Kateri herself disfigured and half blind – when she was just four years old. She went to live with her uncle who succeeded her own father as chief of the clan. Her uncle hated the missionaries who, because of the Mohawks’ treaty with France, were required to be present in the region. Kateri, however, was moved by their words. She refused to marry a Mohawk brave, and at age 19, was baptized on Easter Sunday.

    Her baptism meant that she would be treated forever as a slave. Since she refused to work on Sundays, she was not given anything to eat on those days. She eventually took a 200 mile walking journey to the area of Montreal, and there grew in holiness under the direction of some Christian women in the area. At age 23, she took a vow of virginity.

    Kateri’s life was one of extreme penance and fasting. This she took upon herself as a penance for the eventual conversion of her nation. Kateri said: “I am not my own; I have given myself to Jesus. He must be my only love. The state of helpless poverty that may befall me if I do not marry does not frighten me. All I need is a little food and a few pieces of clothing. With the work of my hands I shall always earn what is necessary and what is left over I’ll give to my relatives and to the poor. If I should become sick and unable to work, then I shall be like the Lord on the cross. He will have mercy on me and help me, I am sure.”

    In today’s Gospel, Jesus laments that the people could not respond in faith to the mighty deeds they had seen.  Kateri didn’t get to see any kind of mighty deeds; she responded in faith to the Word of God.  She was able to put all of her life behind her, so that she could embrace the cross of Christ.  She took very seriously the kind of “white martyrdom” – bloodless sacrifice of one’s life for Christ – that Jesus calls us to today.

    Our call to personal holiness might not be as radical as Kateri’s was.  But we are called to embrace the cross and follow Christ wherever he leads us, and we may well be called upon to sacrifice whatever is comfortable in our lives to do it.  If we focus on that, we can take comfort in the Psalmist’s words today, words that Kateri truly believed: “For the LORD hears the poor, and his own who are in bonds he spurns not.”

  • Fourteenth Sunday of Ordinary Time [B]

    Fourteenth Sunday of Ordinary Time [B]

    Today’s readings

    When I met with Father Jim before I came here to Saint Petronille a few weeks ago, the one concern I expressed was coming back to my home parish.  I thought it might be weird, and I quoted the exact line in today’s Gospel: “A prophet is not without honor except in his native place and among his own kin and in his own house.”  I asked him what he thought about that and he said he didn’t know; he’s never had to experience that himself.  But, he also assured me that you’d all be on your best behavior!  So we’ll just have to see how that goes.

    But it is a valid concern, because, as I believe today’s Liturgy of the Word is saying, we are all of us called to be prophets.  When we are baptized, we are anointed with the Sacred Chrism oil, the oil whose name has the same root word as the word “Christ.”  In that anointing, we are called to be other christs to the world, we are anointed as Jesus was, priest, prophet and king.  So the mission is laid out for us on our baptism day.  As priests, we are called to sacrifice for the good of others.  As prophets, we are called to speak the truth and witness to the will of God.  As kings, we are called to reign eternally with Christ our King in the kingdom that knows no end.

    Today, I want to focus, as our readings suggest, on the whole idea of us being anointed as prophets to the world.  This presents two important issues.  First, whether we like it or not, we are called to be prophets.  And second, whether we like it or not, there are prophets among us.

    So first, we are called to be prophets.  And we may in fact not be thrilled about being prophets.  With good reason, I think, because a prophet’s job is not an easy one.  Prophets are called to witness to the truth, and quite often, people just don’t want to hear about the truth.  God says as much to Ezekiel in today’s first reading: “Hard of face and obstinate of heart are they to whom I am sending you.”  You know, that’s not a scriptural quotation you’ll often see on a vocation poster!  But it’s a warning we all need to hear, because we will always in our witnessing to the truth come up against those who don’t want to hear it.  You might be witnessing to the truth by taking a stand against a business practice you aren’t comfortable with.  You can bet that won’t be popular.  You might be witnessing to the truth by refusing to allow your children to participate in sports when it conflicts with coming to church on Sunday, that won’t be popular either.  Whenever we exercise our ministry as prophets, we are certain to run up against people who are hard of face and obstinate of heart, but our call is the same as Ezekiel’s: witness anyway.

    And second, we need to recognize that there are prophets among us.  And that’s hard too because prophets can be a real pain.  None of us wants to be confronted when we’re straying from the right way.  None of us wants to hear the truth about ourselves or others when we’ve been blocking it out.  None of us wants to be called out of our comfort zone and have to extend ourselves to reach out in new ways or meet the needs of those we’d rather ignore.  But prophets insist that we do all those things.

    It’s harder still when we know those prophets.  They might be our spouses, our parents, our children, our best friends, and because they love us they will witness the truth to us.  But how ready are we to hear and respond to that truth when we are called to it?  Wouldn’t we too want to dismiss the carpenter’s son – or daughter – the one whose parents or sisters or brothers live with us, the one we have watched grow up, the one who shares our life with us?  Who are they to be witnessing to the truth anyway?  That’s the kind of thing Jesus was dealing with in his home town.

    It’s like the Procrustean bed from Greek mythology.  The mythical figure Procrustes was a son of Poseidon and a bandit from Attica, with a stronghold in the hills outside Eleusis. There, he had an iron bed into which he invited every passerby to lie down. If the guest proved too tall, he would amputate the excess length; victims who were too short were stretched on the rack until they were long enough. Nobody ever fit the bed exactly because it was secretly adjustable: Procrustes would stretch or shrink it upon sizing his victims from afar. Procrustes continued his reign of terror until he was captured by Theseus, who “fitted” Procrustes to his own bed and cut off his head and feet. And so a Procrustean bed is any kind of arbitrary standard to which exact conformity is enforced.  We might be a lot like Procrustes when we refuse to admit that people among us are prophetic, when we refuse to hear the truth from them.

    And here is a very important truth, the truth that I think we are being asked to take away from today’s readings: the prophetic ministry continues among us.  There are times when we will be called to hear the prophets, and times when we will be called to be the prophets.  Neither task is an easy one: the truth is very often difficult to deal with, no matter what side of it we are on.  But honoring the truth is the only way we are going to get to be with Jesus who himself is the way, the truth and the life.  So it is the vocation of us Christian disciples to constantly seek the truth, proclaiming it when necessary, hearing and responding to it when called upon, but always to be open to it.

    Ezekiel says at the beginning of today’s first reading, “As the LORD spoke to me, the spirit entered into me and set me on my feet.”  We might be ready to skip over that detail but I think we need to dwell on it a bit because it’s important.  The truth is a heavy thing, and very often can flatten us.  It might seem to crush the prophet who has to bear it or even knock the wind out of the one who has to hear it.  But it doesn’t go away.  We are given the truth, and the strength of the Spirit who picks us up and puts us on our feet.  So we prophets can depend on the strength of the Spirit to bear the news, and we hearers can depend on the grace of the Spirit to receive the news and heed its call.  The prophetic word is difficult, but our God never leaves us to bear it alone.

    In our second reading, it is Saint Paul who makes the call so plain to us.  He was afflicted with that thorn in the flesh.  Maybe the thorn was the call to witness to the truth as he so often was.  It wouldn’t go away, but God did give him the grace to bear it.  And the words he heard from God are the words we prophets and hearers of the prophets need to know today: “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.”

  • St. Thomas the Apostle

    St. Thomas the Apostle

    Today’s readings

    I think that St. Thomas often gets a bad rap for his doubt.  He merely expresses what we would probably be thinking if we were him, and for that matter what the other disciples would have been thinking if they didn’t get to see Jesus the first time.  But in his doubt, Jesus invites him to blessing.  Thomas is invited to touch the Lord so that he could believe and be one with him.  That’s the same invitation we have every time we approach the Lord in the Eucharist.  “Take and eat,” Jesus says, “Touch me and do not be unbelieving but believe.”  May the invitation to touch our Eucharistic Lord be the occasion to dispel our own doubt and become more closely one with him.

  • Wednesday of the Thirteenth Week of Ordinary Time

    Wednesday of the Thirteenth Week of Ordinary Time

    Today’s readings

    I always think it’s interesting that the demons know who Jesus is.  The Pharisees and scribes and religious leaders had a real hard time figuring that out, but the demons know and are in fear of him.  But the demons do have something in common with the townspeople: neither of them want anything to do with Jesus.  We are obviously here because we want to be close to Jesus, but the challenge is what happens when we leave this nice church and go to our jobs, our homes, or wherever life takes us today.  Will we see Jesus in each person that comes to us today, or will we have nothing to do with him?