Who Do You Know Better? Justin or Jesus?

Ninth Sunday in Ordinary Time

            It seems like anytime there is a great tragedy, especially a natural disaster, in a mainly Catholic area, like Hurricane Katrina in Louisiana, or the earthquakes in Chile, certain fringe televangelists will blame it on the Catholics.  We are charged with believing in magic and the power of works, not faith and grace.  In fact, the words, “hocus pocus” come from a play on the Latin words of institution, hoc est corpus, and was used to accuse Catholics of believing that just by saying the right words, the bread and wine could become the Body and Blood of Jesus as if by magic.

Statue of St. Paul from the Patriarchal Basilica
of St. Paul Outside the Walls

            In today’s second reading, St. Paul makes it very clear that the Law, the law given by God through Moses on Mt. Sinai to the people of Israel, does not save people.  It just not justify, or bring them into right relationship with God.  Only by grace, “through the redemption in Christ Jesus…by his blood” are we brought into right relationship with God.  This idea may seem very Protestant, but, as we know, St. Paul was Catholic.  He was a great missionary of the one Church Jesus founded.  And so we Catholics cling to this idea.  There is nothing that we can do that can earn us salvation. 

            And, in case you don’t trust St. Paul, and believe me, some Catholics get a little leery about him (mostly, I think, because they’re afraid that he bolsters the Protestant claims), we can look to Jesus’ words in today’s Gospel.  Jesus says that just because we call Him Lord; just because we prophesy in Jesus’ name; just because we exorcise demons in Jesus’ name; just because we do mighty deeds in Jesus’ name, does not mean that we will go to heaven.  In fact, to those who do those great deeds but do not do the will of the Father in heaven, Jesus will say, “‘I never knew you.  Depart from me, you evildoers.’” 

            So, if prophecy, exorcisms, and mighty deeds done in the name of Jesus don’t get us in, what will?  Those things can “get us in,” so to speak, if they are the will of God for us in our lives.  But if not, then we must be sure that we are doing the will of God as it is made known to us in our lives.  There is no magical thing to do to get into heaven.  Not even dying for the faith, if we do not have love and a right relationship with Jesus, will get us into heaven, as St. Paul says in his first letter to the Corinthians in the famous hymn of love that we hear so often at weddings.

            Being Catholic is not about doing the right things.  It is not about saying the right words.  Yes, we do need to do the right things and say the right words, but those acts, those words, to be helpful to our salvation must first come from a relationship with Jesus.  As Catholics we can easily fall into the trap of thinking that our salvation is caused by the things we do.  As long as we are baptized; as long as we confess our sins to the priest; as long as we receive communion; as long as we give money to the Church, then we’ll be saved.  And certainly baptism is the ordinary way that God cleanses His children from original sin and brings them into a right relationship with Him; certainly if we sin after Baptism, especially mortally, then we need to confess to a priest as the ordinary means of gaining forgiveness from God; certainly we need to come to Mass each Sunday to receive the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ to give us the strength to live out our lives as disciples; certainly being good stewards of the gifts and talents and time God has given us shows that we appreciate those blessings and give our best back to God.  The sacraments surely cause grace, but those graces call for a response from us.

            So the question for us is: how is our relationship with Jesus?  How well do we know Jesus?  Do we know Him as well as we know the Pope (which, for most of us means that we’re familiar with the guy, but we don’t really know what he’s like)?  Do we know Jesus as well as we know Justin Bieber, Michael Jackson, Celine Dion, or Katy Perry (which means that we probably know everything about them [and believe me, I know a fair amount of young girls who know everything about Justin Bieber], but without really having a friendship with them)?  Do we know Jesus as well as we know our friends (which means that we know a lot about them, and we know them personally, but there are still some things that we don’t share with them)?  Or do we know Jesus like and even better than we know our best friend or like we know our spouse (which means that we share everything with Jesus, joys and sorrows, graces and sins)?    In case you’re wondering, it’s the last one that we should be aiming for.

            What you’ll find, the closer to you get to Jesus, is that there are fewer things in life that can shake you.  As you become closer to Jesus, the house of faith that you build becomes more like a house built on the rock and less like on the sand, so that when traumatic events in life come: the loss of a job; the loss of a family member; attacks on our faith, etc., while they still shake the house a little, the house of faith is not washed away.  In a time when everything seems so changeable, where there’s a new iPad, iPod, or iPhone every year, and when nothing seems to stay the same, we can be sure that Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow, always relevant, but never changing.  We need that stability in our lives, and nothing else can live up to that desire for total stability, not even another person.

            We as Catholics do not believe in magic.  It is not just the right words that we say or the right deeds that we do.  Being a disciple, a good disciple, is all about how close we are to Jesus, our relationship with Him, and then responding to that love that He pours upon us in the Sacraments and in our daily lives.  My prayer is that our house of faith will be built on the rock of Jesus and will stand the many trials and tests that come along in life so that when we come before Jesus, the Judge of the Living and the Dead, we will not hear, “‘“I never knew you.  Depart from me, you evildoers,”’” but, “‘Come, good and faithful servant.  Enter into the joy prepared for you by my Father.’”

Jumping In

Eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Because February, while technically the shortest month of the year, is somehow, ironically, the longest month of the year, and because we seem to be getting pounded with snow again and again, it’s nice to remember what summer’s like, to give us hope that someday, hopefully soon, the snow will melt, warmer, sunnier days will return, and we’ll be able go outside and participate in our favorite summer activities.

One of those activities that can be a lot of fun is swimming, either at a lake, or at a pool.  At a pool, its interesting to see a young boy or young girl, usually with little floaties around their arms to help them float, waiting to jump in while mom or dad is ready to catch them.  You can almost see the thought process as the scenario unfolds: are these small orange things really going to keep me from drowning?  Is dad or mom going to catch me?  If they do catch me, can I be sure that they’re not going to let go?  But then how rewarding is it when they take the leap, splash into the water into mom or dad’s arms, and realize that jumping in can be great fun, and they don’t have to be afraid. 

In many ways, the leap of faith that Jesus asks us to take in today’s Gospel is even greater than that leap of faith a child takes when it decides to jump into its parent’s arms in the pool.  Jesus tells us, “do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink, or about your body, what you will wear.”  ‘Sure Jesus,’ we might say to ourselves, ‘easy enough for you to say.  But you’re not living in this economy.  You don’t have to put food on the table for a spouse and kids.’  And yet, to many of the people Jesus was talking to, their financial lives were much more fragile than ours.  There was no St. Vincent de Paul society to help them out, no Meals on Wheels, no welfare.  In Jesus’ time, if you were somehow unable to work, much of which was simply to get by, then you had your family to back you up.  If you had no family, then you were really out of luck.  No one had your back.

And to those people Jesus says, “Don’ worry about food, drink, clothing, or life.”  The leap of faith that that decision takes is enormous, because we can be afraid.  We can be like scared, little children, sitting alongside the pool, wondering if our mom or dad is going to catch us.  But, of course, God the Father, the source of all fatherhood and motherhood, is never going to let us drown.  He is always there to catch us.  If He weren’t, we would cease to exist.  If His love were not sustaining us each and every millisecond of our lives, there would be no us.  And, besides, as our first reading tells us, even if our mothers forsook us, and what a horrific thing that would be, the Lord would never forsake us.  Even if our earthly parents let us go underneath the waves, even then the Lord would never forsake or forget us.  He loves you, an individual, with all of who He is.

And what is the proof of that love?  Jesus tells us that, as far as food goes, God makes sure that the birds of the air have food each day.  They don’t have freezers or microwaves; they don’t have cupboards where they can store canned goods.  And yet, God provides for them anyways.  And are we not more important than sparrows?  Certainly.  Jesus also uses the example of the flowers of the field.  They don’t worry if Abercrombie is in this year, or if this pant/shirt combo from Hollister is sheik.  And yet, even Solomon, the richest man in all Israel could not make clothes as beautiful as those flowers are.  And if the flowers, which are here today and withered tomorrow are clothed so, how much more will God make sure that we have proper clothing; maybe not Abercrombie or Hollister, but clothes to keep us warm in these winter months, clothes to help us do our jobs.

Does this mean that we can just put everything on Visa because it’s everywhere we want to be?  Does this mean that for everything else we use MasterCard?  Does this mean that we don’t leave home without our American Express?  No, buying on credit is not the answer.  God will not pay off our credit cards.  But if we, the Body of Christ, take Jesus’ teachings to heart, then no one will worry about food, clothing, or the basic necessities.  If we “seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness,” then we will make sure that, after we have provided for our families with the capital that comes from our work, no matter how exalted or base it may be, that what we have left will go to support St. Vincent de Paul, food banks, and other charitable organizations that provide for people in their need.  If we are first seeking the kingdom, then we are not just in it for ourselves.  The way that we treat others, the way that we love others, becomes paramount. 

But that only happens if God is our Master.  We cannot serve two masters.  You will either hate one and love the other, or be devoted to one and despise the other.  Who is our master?  Is it God or MasterCard?  Is it God or our jobs?  Is it God or our money?  The answer to that question can be discerned by evaluating what we love most.  What comes first in our lives?

Today we are standing at the edge of the pool, and God our Father is standing in the water.  Do we stay on the concrete, on the security we think we have built with our hands?  Or do we take God at His word and jump in, trusting that our Father will not let us drown and that, in fact, the excitement at jumping in far outweighs the false security we think we have on the concrete edge?  The Father is waiting.  Jump into His arms.