“You are not far from the kingdom of God.” Some people – Catholics included – see the things that we Catholics do as external, and superfluous. And indeed, when we do these things in perfunctory, rote kind of ways, then we are definitely missing the boat. But all of these things can be manifestations of our desire to love God more. In Lent, we fast, give alms and pray. Our fasting can be our desire to rely more on God’s care for us. Our almsgiving can be our desire to be one with God who is close to the poor. Our prayer can be a manifestation of our hunger for God. When we do these things with love for God, they aren’t mere externals; they are part of our living faith. And when they are done with that kind of love, we are truly not far from the kingdom of God.
Category: Lent
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Thursday of the Third Week of Lent
Today’s Scriptures address another one of the ways that we fallen human beings tend to avoid the truth. Sometimes, when we are confronted with the truth, we attack its source. If we cast doubt on the one bringing us the truth, then we don’t have to follow his or her words, right?
The prophet Jeremiah takes the nation of Israel to task for this in today’s first reading. These are a people who have heard the truth over and over. God has not stopped sending prophets to preach the word. But the Israelites would not listen: in fact, most often, they murdered the prophets. They preferred to live in the world, and to attach themselves to the nations and their worship of idols and pagan gods. They had been warned constantly that this was going to be the source of their demise, but they tuned it out. They “stiffened their necks,” Jeremiah says, and now faithfulness has disappeared and there is no word of truth in anything they say.
Some of the Jews are giving Jesus the same treatment in today’s Gospel. Seeing him drive out a demon, they are filled with jealousy and an enormous sense of inadequacy. These are the men who were religious leaders and they had the special care of driving away demons from the people. But they chose not to do so, or maybe their lukewarm faith made them ineffective in this ministry. So on seeing Jesus competent at what was their duty, they cast a hand-grenade of rhetoric at him and reason that only a demon could cast out demons like he did.
We will likely hear the word of truth today. Maybe it will come in these Scriptures, or maybe later in our prayerful moments. Maybe it will be spoken by a child or a coworker or a relative or friend. However the truth is given to us, it is up to us to take it in and take it to heart. Or will we too be like the Jews and the Israelites and stiffen our necks? No, the Psalmist tells us, we can’t be that way. “If today you hear his voice, harden not your hearts.”
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Tuesday of the Third Week of Lent
How many people have we condemned to prison? I mean this, of course, in a figurative way: how many have we condemned to the prison of our disfavor because of past hurts that we refuse to forget? Forgiveness is a process, and it may take some time to truly forgive and forget an egregious offense. But we have to be willing to take that first step, to ask God to help us to forgive, to count on him to help us to be merciful. Because God has forgiven us much worse. Our sins are incredibly offensive to God, but he forgives us all the time. How could we do any less?
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Third Sunday of Lent [Scrutiny I]
NB: This homily is based on the readings from cycle A, which was read just for the Mass of the Scrutiny.
Last year about this time, I got the flu – bad. It was one of those rare occasions when I was so sick, I couldn’t even get out of bed. I had a fever, chills, aches and pains, the whole deal. When it was at its worst, I was trying to drink a lot of fluids, which is pretty much the only thing you really can do when you have the flu. So I drank a lot of water, but as time went on, I got sick of drinking a lot of water. So I supplemented it with tea, of course, but I even gave myself permission to do something I don’t do very often, and that was to drink some soda – 7up mostly. And that tasted good, the 7up, but because it’s sugary, sooner rather than later I’d be thirsty again, and the only thing that really helped was – water.
I thought about that experience as I was preparing today’s homily, because this set of readings, which are being used just for this Mass because of the Scrutiny we will pray in a few minutes with our RCIA Elect, these readings are all about water. Whenever we see this much water in the Sunday readings, we should always think of a certain sacrament. Guess which one? Right, baptism. And so we’ll talk about that in just a minute, but before we go there, let’s take a minute to get at the subject of thirst. That, after all, is what gets us to water in the first place.
The Israelites were sure thirsty in today’s first reading. After all, they had been wandering around the desert for a while now, and would continue to do so for forty years. At that point, they were thinking about how nice it would have been if they had just remained slaves in Egypt, so that they wouldn’t have to come all the way out here to the desert just to die of thirst. Better slaves than dead, they thought. The issue was that they didn’t have what they thirsted for, and had not yet learned to trust God to quench that thirst. So Moses takes all the complaining of the people and complains to God, who provides water for them in the desert. Think about that – they had water in the desert! And they had that water for as long as they continued to make that desert journey. They never ran out, they didn’t die of thirst, God proves himself trustworthy in a miraculous way. The end of the reading says they named the place Massah and Meribah because they wondered, “Is the LORD in our midst or not?” Can you imagine that? God had led them out of slavery in Egypt with great miracles and signs, and is guiding them through the desert with a column of cloud by day and a column of fire by night. Is the LORD in their midst or not? Obviously, the answer was “yes.”
Which brings us to the rather curious story we have in the Gospel reading. If we think the story was all about a woman coming to get a bucket of water, then we’ve really missed the boat. This story asks us what we’re thirsting for, but at a much deeper level. Did Jesus really need a drink of water? Well, maybe, but he clearly thirsted much more for the Samaritan woman’s faith. Did she leave her bucket behind because she would never need to drink water again? No, she probably just forgot it in the excitement, but clearly she had found the source of living water and wanted to share it with everyone.
In the midst of their interaction, Jesus uncovers that the woman has been thirsting for something her whole life long. She was married so many times, and the one she was with now was not her husband. She apparently couldn’t find what she was thirsting for in her relationships. She was worshipping, as the Samaritans did, on the mountain and not in Jerusalem as the Jews did. And every single day, she came to this well to draw water, because her life didn’t mean much more than that. She was constantly looking for water that would quench her, and yet she was thirsty all the time. Kind of reminds me of having the flu.
And all of this would be very sad if she hadn’t just found the answer to her prayers, the source of living water. There is a hymn written by Horatio Bonar in 1846 called “I Heard the Voice of Jesus Say” that speaks to this wonderful Gospel story. We’re going to hear it in a few minutes as part of our scrutiny, but I want to focus on the words of that hymn because they relate to today’s Gospel story:
I heard the voice of Jesus say,
“Behold, I freely give
the living water; thirsty one,
stoop down and drink, and live.”
I came to Jesus, and I drank
of that life-giving stream;
my thirst was quenched, my soul revived,
and now I live in him.
And that’s exactly what happened to the Samaritan woman. She drank of the stream of Jesus’ life-giving water, and she now lived in him. She couldn’t even contain herself and ran right off to town, leaving the bucket of her past life behind, and told everyone about Jesus. They were moved to check this Jesus out, initially because of her testimony. But once they came to know him as the source of life-giving water, they didn’t even need her testimony to convince them; they too lived in him now.
Today’s Scriptures plead with us on the subject of conversion. The Israelites were wandering through the desert learning to trust God, being converted from the Egypt of their past sinful lives to the Promised Land of God’s inheritance. The Samaritan woman was being converted from the stagnant water of her own past life to the living, life-giving water of new life in Christ.
Remember that I said earlier that, whenever you see this much about water in the readings, the point is always baptism. Conversion is necessary before baptism can happen. And that’s what brings us here today. Lent, if we give ourselves to it, is totally about our baptism and our need for life-long conversion. For those among the Elect, that’s quite literally true. Our elect have been walking the desert journey to come to God’s promise just as the Israelites did. And they, like the Samaritan woman, have come to know the source of life-giving water. Just four weeks from yesterday, they will stand before us, have water poured over their heads, and receive what they have been thirsting for all this time.
But the rest of us, too, find conversion and baptism in our Lenten journey. Lent, as is often pointed out, means “springtime” and during Lent we await a new springtime in our faith. We await new growth, we look for renewed faith, we recommit ourselves to the baptism that is our source of life-giving water. We have what we are thirsting for, and Lent is a time to drink of it more deeply, so that we will be refreshed and renewed to live with vigor the life of faith and the call of the Gospel. These Lenten days take us to Easter and beyond with water that we can pour out in every time and place where God takes us. The life we receive in baptism can revive a world grown listless and jaded and make it alive with springs of refreshment that can only come from the one who gives us water beyond our thirsting, that follows us in our desert journeys, that springs up within those who believe.
The Israelites wondered, “Is the LORD in our midst or not?” As we see the waters of baptism refreshing our Elect, and as we ourselves are renewed in our own baptism, we can only answer that question with a resounding “YES!” So – is the LORD in our midst or not?
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Friday of the Second Week of Lent
So in today’s first reading, Joseph is sold into slavery by his brothers. What a foreshadowing this is, isn’t it? It certainly foreshadows Israel’s slavery in Egypt that led to the Exodus, but it also foreshadows the selling of Jesus into the hands of his executioners by one of his own brothers, Judas Iscariot, and, of course, ultimately by all of his brothers and sisters, namely you and me. We must never forget that Jesus paid the price for OUR sins.
But, it also foreshadows our own slavery too. We too have been sold into slavery to sin, enticed by the power of the evil one. The chains of our slavery to sin might look like always needing to be right, constant self-pity or self-doubt, blaming others instead of taking responsibility, criticizing others constantly, refusing to move on from the pain of our past, taking joy in the misfortune of others, giving ourselves to endless worry, putting others down, using stereotypes and participating in racism, refusing to forgive, thinking of oneself over others, and the list goes on. You know the chains that bind you to sin.
As the Psalmist tells us, the King eventually freed Joseph from his chains and put him in charge of his household. Lent is about allowing our King, Jesus Christ, to break the chains of our slavery to sin, and accepting the discipleship responsibilities he gives us. We are never forgiven and just left alone: we are forgiven and sent on mission. That’s why Jesus told Peter to go feed his sheep after Peter said, “Lord, you know that I love you.”
As we continue the prayer of Mass today, we offer those chains to Jesus, asking him to break them, and accepting the gift of discipleship for the honor and glory of God. Remember the marvels the Lord has done!
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Wednesday of the Second Week of Lent
“Can you drink the chalice that I am going to drink?” That’s a loaded question if ever there was one. But just like James and John, all of us Christian disciples will indeed drink of Jesus’ chalice. And just like James and John, we will have to accept all that comes with it. Yes, we will get a place in the kingdom, but yes, it will also mean for us that we will get hardship, suffering, and grief. We must drink the chalice if we would have the reward that Jesus came to give. It won’t be easy, but it will be worth it.
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Tuesday of the Second Week of Lent
A phylactery was a black leather box that was worn on the arm or the forehead, containing scriptural verses. Maybe the modern equivalent would be a “WWJD” bracelet, or a cross worn around the neck, or even a t-shirt or sweatshirt with a Scriptural verse on it. These are wonderful reminders of who we are called to be, except when we ignore them. We cannot advertise to be one person when in fact we are someone else. We cannot be like the Pharisees who preach but do not practice. Our works must be works of justice, reaching out to those in need, living in right relationship with everyone, or our words are just hollow.
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Monday of the Second Week of Lent
Aren’t the Lenten readings challenging? But this is what it means to be a disciple. We have to be willing to have our whole world turned upside-down; to do something completely against our nature; to let God take control of the life we want so much to control.
“For the measure with which you measure will in return be measured out to you.” I don’t know about you, but that scares the heck out of me. Because there are plenty of times when it just about kills me to give someone a break. The measure I sometimes use ends up being a bar set pretty high, and I would sure hate to have to leap over that bar myself. But that’s what Jesus is saying will be our measure.
Because the measure of compassion is the compassion of God himself. That is our model, that’s what we’re to strive for, that’s how we are to treat each other. But when we do that, it means we can’t judge others. It means that we have to see them as God does, which is to say that we have to see the Jesus in them and to see the goodness in them. And that’s hard to do when that person has just cut you off in traffic, or has gossiped about you to your neighbors, or has crossed you in some other way. But even then, we are called to stop judging others and show them the compassion of God.
Lord, do not deal with us according to our sins. That is the prayer of the Psalmist today. We are given the promise of forgiveness, but we are also warned that if we do not forgive others, we will not be forgiven either. The measure with which we measure will in turn be measured out to us. I don’t know about you, but I’m going to look really hard for a small ruler today.
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Second Sunday of Lent
I think that two words sum up what we are being told today in our Liturgy of the Word: WAKE UP. There is a lot of waking up going on: Abram falls into a deep trance and is enveloped in terrifying darkness, he then wakes up to see God ratifying the covenant. The disciples on the mountain have fallen asleep as Jesus prayed, and they wake up to see our Transfigured Lord conversing with Moses and Isaiah – symbols of the Law and the Prophets.
We too are called to wake up. We too have once been enveloped in a terrifying darkness. The light of the Gospel and the joy of the sacraments banishes that darkness, if we but move forward in faith. The problem is that so many times we get dragged back into that darkness. It’s so easy to return to sinful ways, bad habits, patterns of brokenness, the shame of addiction. We want what we don’t need. We seek easy answers rather than work through the tough times. We make Gods out of success, and money, and pleasure, rather than honor the God who compassions us through failure, poverty and pain. We see to all our own creature comforts with little regard for the poor, oppressed and marginalized. We return over and over and over again to the terrifying darkness of sin in thought, word, and deed. Lent reminds us that we cannot survive living that way. We must confess our sins and wake up to be children of light.
Waking up to the call of God in our lives, we are called to be light to others. We have to be willing then to inconvenience ourselves for the sake of the Kingdom of God. God’s compassion has been poured out on us so that we can then be compassionate to others. That compassion demands that we have concern for every person God puts in our path, that we take time out of our busy and hectic schedules to listen to a hurting coworker or look in on a sick neighbor. God’s love has been poured out on us so that we can love as he has loved us. That love demands that we discipline children with patience, that we honor and respect our parents, that we go the extra mile to share the gifts we have been given. We must wake up to live as God’s people.
We are a people who have been given so much. God has reached out to us in great love and mercy and has taken the initiative to form a covenant with us, first with the sacrifice of Abraham, and in the last days through the blood of Jesus, poured out on the altar of the Cross. We deserve none of this, because we as a people and as individuals have turned away from God over and over again. But over and over again, God has sung to our spirit, giving us grace, and called us to be sons and daughters of light. But we have to wake up and receive it.
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Saturday of the First Week of Lent
Today’s readings
Well, how far are we supposed to take that? Love our enemies? Pray for those who persecute us? I mean, that’s real easy to hear until we actually think about it, isn’t it? Those people who gossip about us, cut us off in traffic, make a ruckus in our neighborhoods until all hours of the night, tell off-color jokes in social situations – well it’s nice to hold onto a grudge against them, isn’t it? And are we supposed to be forgiving of terrorists, and all those people who hate us and our way of life?
Yes, we are. We are if we want to be called children of our heavenly Father. And who doesn’t want that? Who knows: maybe when we stop letting them irritate us and instead begin to pray for them and even forgive them, maybe then we will start seeing them in a new light. They might not change, but we will, and we need to be concerned about our relationship with God.
Who do I need to forgive today?
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