"We need to talk..."

Twenty-first Sunday in Ordinary Time

           

There are certain phrases in life that you never want to hear from a person.  If you are a student you never want to have the teacher tell you, “See me after class.”  If you’re dating someone, you never want to hear, “We need to talk.”  If you’re meeting with your doctor, you never want to hear, “We found something that we didn’t expect.”  All those things generally mean that there is some bad news coming, whether it’s a poor grade on a test, a break-up, or an illness or disease that was just discovered.

            At the end of our life, standing before the judgment seat of God, we don’t want to hear, “‘I do not know where you are from,’” coming from the mouth of Jesus.  That means that what comes next is not good news, and we should be prepared for the afterlife elevator to go down, rather than up.  So it makes sense that the person might say, as Jesus has them saying in today’s Gospel, “‘We ate and drank in your company and you taught in our streets.’”  But then they hear something even worse: “‘I do not know where you are from.  Depart from me, all you evildoers!’”  These probably sound like pretty harsh words from the Divine Person who is supposed to be a loving Shepherd.

            But both last week and this week the Church presents for us what can seem like the harsher side of Jesus.  Last week Jesus was saying how following Him will split apart families.  This week, He’s talking about eternal salvation and how many will be saved.  When we hear passages like the one we heard today, perhaps we try to theologize it away, by highlighting other passages from Scripture which talk about how God desires the salvation of all.  And certainly we take those very seriously and must read today’s passage in light of those.  But more often than not, we don’t read this passage in light of those other Scripture passages, we just ignore today’s and pretend that the one’s about God’s desire for all to be saved are the only passages that are important.  But we do so at our own peril.

            Because while God does desire all to be saved, God also tells us with great sobriety that “‘many…will attempt to enter [through the narrow gate] but will not be strong enough.’”  Enjoying eternal bliss is not the automatic destination, even one of one who is baptized.  It’s the destination God programmed into us, but sin so often takes us off course.  Just because we’re baptized doesn’t mean that we’re going to heaven.  Salvation is not a gift that is offered once for all and accepted or rejected in one moment, but is a gift that is offered to us each day that we have to receive each day in order for it to become our eternal reality.  Just because I lived a holy life yesterday, does not mean that I will today.  In fact, I could be particularly evil today, which could undermine all the good I did yesterday. 

            If you think about it in an academic metaphor, we don’t start class off with a 4.0, and then only lose it if we don’t turn stuff in, or answer questions correctly.  Rather, God offers us opportunities to respond to the love He first showed us, homework assignments and quizzes and tests, and if we do well, we can get that 4.0.  Or, if you prefer, think about it in terms of lifting weights.  We don’t start off with buff little bodies.  We need to work out in order to keep a good, muscular physique.  When we don’t, our muscles get weak and they appear smaller.  I’m living proof of that.  If muscles just came, I’d be pretty buff.  But because I never lifted weights or did any kind of muscle conditioning, I have these little scrawny arms.  Now, good grades are not the most important things in life, nor are muscles.  But what is true with getting a 4.0 and getting big muscles is true about salvation: it doesn’t just happen without any work. 

            It is not enough to be around Jesus, as if salvation comes by way of osmosis.  We might as well sleep with textbooks beneath our pillow in the hopes of learning the material.  The people in Jesus’ words today were around Jesus.  They ate and drank with Him and He taught them in their cities.  And yet Jesus says He does not know them.  It is not enough simply that we are baptized.  Each day we are called to respond to God’s love that He give us first, and the opportunities that He sends our way to share that love with others.  Each day we are called to offer to God the sacrifice of our lives as we seek to do His will in all things.  We discipline ourselves to choose God not ourselves; to choose love, not hate; to choose generosity, not selfishness; to choose truth, not lies.  Baptism is not a Get Out of Hell Free card.  It is, rather, a catalyst that can be used to propel us towards heaven.  Or it can just sit on a shelf and collect dust. 

            The work of the New Evangelization is to reenergize our own faith, and to bring others back into the practice of the faith in which they were baptized, to work out those spiritual muscles.  And our impetus in doing so is because we want them to go to heaven, just as much as we want to go to heaven.  And we know for them, as for ourselves, that the gate to heaven is not wide, but narrow, and the way to heaven is not the easiest path, but often is the hardest, and that new life in God comes only through death to ourselves.  It means that we form our minds around what God has revealed to us, rather than doing our own thing.  It means we go to Mass every Sunday and Holyday; we give of our time, talent, and treasure to the Church; that we talk about our faith in public and pass it on to our families and friends; that we live a life of chastity; that marriages for Catholics happen according to the laws of God and the Church; that we feed the hungry and give drink to the thirsty; that we do all this and more according to our abilities.  I pray that I, and all of us, and all those to whom we as a parish are called to evangelize, are not spiritually lazy, but do the hard work of responding to God’s love in everyday life, so that when we die, we will not hear, “I do not know where you are from.  Depart from me, evildoers!” but, “Come, my good and faithful servant; share your Master’s joy.”

Trying to See the Tracks

Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

           

I remember when I was finally tall enough to ride Space Mountain at Disney World.  I was excited, because everyone kept talking about how much fun the ride was, but I was still nervous because it was my first real roller coaster.  And it was in the dark.  So, as I bravely sat in the little car, my only real concern was trying to see the track ahead of me, so I would know when there was a dip or a sharp turn. 

            “Faith,” says our first reading today, “is the … evidence of things not seen.”  Faith is precisely not being able to see the track ahead of you, no matter how hard you peer into the darkness.  Some people find this exhilarating.  Some people find it scarier than anything else in the world.  But growing in faith means that we are growing in our comfort in the dark: not that our eyes adjust, but that we are less concerned with seeing.

            Faith, then, is all about trust.  Even though the tracks are not seen, the faith-filled person does not worry about seeing because he or she trusts in the one who brought them there.  We can trust that beliefs are true, and that is one aspect of faith.  But even then, our faith that this teaching is true is based upon trust in the One who said it.  Our faith in what God has taught us, through His Word in Scriptures and His Word in the teachings of the Church is based upon the fact that we trust that God is trustworthy.  We only doubt one whom we feel cannot be trusted.

            When we doubt something the Church teaches as part of God’s plan for humanity, we fail to trust Jesus’ promise in Matthew 16 that the gates of the netherworld will not prevail against it, and that despite their own individual sinfulness, the apostles and successors can teach without error what must be authentically believed and how one should live.  Surrounded by the darkness, we choose to trust in ourselves rather than in Jesus and the one Church He founded.  We figure we can do it better our way.  Maybe we trust ourselves more about our responsibilities in the Church: to attend Mass each Sunday and Holyday; to support the parish with our time, talent, and treasure; to go to confession at least once a year when we’re aware of a mortal sin.  Maybe we trust ourselves and our own opinions when it comes to human sexuality, marriage, contraception.  Whatever the issue, the temptation is always there to respond to the darkness, not with faith, but with self-sufficiency and over-confidence in our own opinions rather than by what God has communicated through His Word.

But, faith is not just the evidence of things unseen.  It is also, “the realization of what is hoped for.”  Faith does involve darkness.  But it is also a light, hence the title of Pope Francis’ first Encyclical, Lumen fidei, the Light of Faith.  Faith allows us to realize, even now, what will only be fulfilled in the future.  Abraham had faith in God, he trusted God, that everything would be ok if he left the only land he knew, Ur of the Chaldeans, and went to Canaan.  He trusted that God would give him a son, and that, even though God asked him to sacrifice his own son, that God could raise up another son who would fulfill the promise that Abraham would have “descendants as numerous as the stars in the sky, and as countless as the sands on the seashore.”

The Jews, as we heard in our first reading, had faith that God, who had promised the land of Canaan to Abraham, would fulfill His word, and so even in slavery in Egypt, they foresaw the Passover, the saving of God’s Chosen People from oppression. 

We are called to be a people of faith, to trust in Jesus to light the right path before us through His Body, the Church.  We are called to be the faithful servants who have faith that the Master will return, and so are ready to open the door for Him when He knocks.  When we trust Jesus, we find that we who are His servants are served by Him, as He prepares a meal for us, the Eucharist, and waits on us so that we are spiritually nourished.  And when we have faith in the Eucharist, we see already in these sacramental signs of bread and wine, made into the Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity of Jesus Christ, the eternal wedding feast of the Lamb in heaven.  We participate in a foretaste of it.  Faith in God allows us to see the good things that are in store for us if we are faithful servants, waiting for our Master’s return.  It enlightens us so that what we choose prepares us for the end God desires for us: heaven.  Faith enlightens our work, our recreation, the way we spend our time, the way we use our gift of sexuality, how we use our money, etc.  There is no aspect of our lives that faith does not alter if it’s being lived out. 

Faith is trust in the midst of darkness, the darkness that comes not because God is absent, but because He is so close that our eyes cannot take the brilliance.  Faith illumines every aspect of our lives to receive the good things God has promised to us, even if we do not possess them in their fullness yet.  In these last months of the Year of Faith, trust God: He will not disappoint.  Trust the Church He has founded to authentically communicate what we are to believe and how we are to live: it only leads to perfect happiness.  Do not be afraid!!  Have faith!!  

Lift Up Your Hearts

Eighteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

            “Lift up your hearts.”  “We lift them up to the Lord.”  Do we?  We say or chant this response at least every Sunday when we gather for the celebration of Mass.  But maybe it’s become so common that we don’t even think about what we’re saying or chanting.

            This response should remind us of what we heard in the second reading today from St. Paul: “If you were raised with Christ, seek what is above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God.  Think of what is above, not of what is on earth.”  It’s so easy to get caught up in everything that is going on around us.  But, as Christians, our first priority is to be on God.  That is why the priest, in the name of Christ, reminds us right before the highest point of the Mass, to set our hearts, that is, all of what we love, on Godly things, on the mysteries of the death and resurrection into which we are about to enter.  In our English translation we follow the Latin, Sursum corda, “Lift up your hearts.”  In our second reading we heard the word “think,” but even that word in Greek, froneite, can also mean feel.  This is because the heart has always been seen as the decision maker.  And while we pride ourselves on being reasonable, how many times have we done stupid, reckless, or illogical things because we have loved something or someone?  Our heart, the part of us that makes decisions, should be drawn upwards toward the Lord.

            Because heaven is what is most real.  This is part of the Christian paradox.  Just as the poor are blessed, the lowly are raised up, the last are first, the greatest is the servant, so what is most real is life in Christ, especially in its perfection in heaven, whereas the earth that we inhabit now is passing away.  What should concern us most are not the things that we can sense, however good they may be, but the things that only our souls can begin to grasp onto because they are immaterial.  That is why we are reminded to lift up our hearts, to set our heart and soul and mind and strength on God, rather than on the vanities of the world.

            Because, as our first reading and Gospel state, setting our hearts on the things of this world leads to vanity and misfortune.  “Here is one who has labored with wisdom and knowledge and skill, and yet to another who has not labored over it, he must leave property.”  The man who is so rich in the things of earth that he has to build another barn, dies before he can store away his excess goods, and realizes that, because his heart was on being rich, he is actually poor in what matters to God.

            Now, as we set our hearts on the things of God, does that mean we neglect our earthly obligations to family, work, church, and the poor?  Certainly not.  When we make God our top priority, when we set our heart on Him, we realize that He lets the sun shine on the good and the bad, and allows the rain to fall on the just and the unjust.  If God is so abundant in his love, how can we, then, not take care of our family members, our employer or employee and co-workers, our fellow members of the body of Christ, and those for whom God Himself says He has a special love: the poor?  Setting our hearts on God means that we place God first, not that we neglect everything else.  In fact, because God has made us stewards of creation, neglect of our responsibilities to other persons and the world is precisely not putting God first.  We cannot make God just another part of our earthly concern, nor can we make the earth another god.  We set our hearts on God, and so take care of each other to the best of our ability. 

            Because, even as we set our hearts on God, we also learn to what extent we can assist others.  St. Paul writes about this in his second letter to the Corinthians:

…not that others should have relief while you are burdened, but that as a matter of equality your surplus at the present time should supply their needs, so that their surplus may also supply your needs, that there may be equality.  As it is written: “Whoever had much did not have more, and whoever had little did not have less.”

Money is not bad.  Jesus never condemns wealth in itself.  But when our hearts are not set on God, then greed takes over, and the riches become a god, rather than being an opportunity to be an icon of the generosity of God. 

In many ways we are a generous parish, on both sides of Burcham, and hopefully our Mission Appeal speaker will see that.  We have been very blessed.  Do we only use our income when we experience some benefit, whether it is getting back some service, or even just feeling good?  Or are we generous even when we get nothing in return?  “Seek first the Kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given you besides.”