Thirty-second Sunday in Ordinary Time
From time to time I see ads on TV and on the internet for ways to have a chiseled body, with well defined muscles. I’m sure that some of the ads were photoshopped a bit, but even so, I often thought about what it would be like to have better muscle definition, stronger muscles, and a stronger appearance. But to truly get into that shape, I would have to give up a lot of foods that I enjoy eating, and actually go to a gym on a regular basis and lift weights, neither of which sounds that appealing to me. And looking at me, you can see which path I choose!
Each in our own way, we probably all have things that we want, but for which we’re not really willing to work. We have a desire for something, but we’re not really willing to do the things to make that desire an achieved reality. That can even be the case when it comes to our faith.
In today’s first reading we hear about a mother and her children who are being tortured and killed because they’re not willing to break God’s law, even though the local government is telling them to. The back story is that the Greeks had taken over the Holy Land, and wanted everyone to live in the Greek manner of life: they placed idols in the temple, forbade parents to have their sons circumcised, and forced the Jews to eat pork, all as ways of rejecting the Jewish religion. The part we hear in today’s passage highlights a heroic sacrifice that they make, simply because they would rather obey God and be tortured and killed than disobey God and enjoy prosperity.
But this heroic action probably did not start the moment they were arrested and brought before the king. They likely had made smaller sacrifices to be faithful to God throughout their lives, maybe not even perfectly, but still, doing their best to say yes to God in their choices in small ways, which helped them to say yes to God when it was a major decision with drastic consequences.
I think we can sometimes be as clueless as the Sadducees in today’s Gospel when it comes to the Resurrection. We desire to be raised, to reign with Jesus in heaven. But when it comes to the daily ways that we show that we want to accept this gift of eternal life, we’re not quite there, and we don’t want it that much. We want the end result without wanting the daily effort it takes to obtain that result.
Being welcomed into heaven is all about putting behind us the fallen parts of our nature by God’s grace, and accepting God’s grace to choose things which do not always seem to desirable, but which help us to say yes to God and say no to our fallen nature. St. Paul talks about it as putting to death the old man (Adam, who said no to God), and living the life of the new man (Jesus, who said yes to God). It’s easy to want to do that in major ways, and praise God when that happens, when we’re able to recognize a major temptation as something leading us away from God, and reject it. But it’s much harder, but more efficacious, to say yes to God in small ways, which, over time, make us more like Christ.
I would suggest two small ways that we can live more for Christ, and bring us closer to the desire to be welcomed into heaven. The first you’re already doing today. And that’s attending Mass every Sunday and Holyday, unless you're sick or homebound, or necessary work prevents you from attending. Attending Mass might not seem like much, but that sacrifice to set aside your own desires on how to use your time, and then to drive to Mass to worship God, builds up our spiritual muscles. You may not see it making a difference, but if we could see the difference it makes in our souls, we would be amazed. Those who go to Mass still have temptations, but it’s much easier to reject temptation and sin when we’re filled with the grace of the Body and Blood of Christ, received in a state of grace. Even if we still sin even though we attend weekly Mass, imagine the other sins you may have fallen into without attending Mass. And daily Mass is even better, still!
A second small way is abstaining from meat every Friday, not just the Fridays of Lent, unless it’s a solemnity, like on All Saints Day. We might think that it’s not a big deal, and it’s not, especially if we like fish. But saying no to our desire to eat whatever we want to is a great small sacrifice that prepares us to be faithful in bigger sacrifices that may come our way. Sometimes, if visiting family or friends, that may not be possible, so maybe try fasting from lunch, or doing an extra work of charity on that day. I try to abstain from meat on all Fridays, and I have seen the difference it makes in my own spiritual life.
When I hear the story of the great martyrs, I am inspired by how they suffered for Christ in such major ways! Some of the pain I think I could suffer through. Some, like getting boiling water poured on me or having my fingernails pulled out, do not seem so easy to endure. But in reality, if I’m not doing the smaller, daily sacrifices, whatever they might be, then I’m not going to be successful in the larger sacrifices if and when they ever come my way. If we truly want to be in that number when the saints go marching in, to be as faithful as the mother and her children in not rejecting God even when it meant coercion, torture, and death by the government, then let us follow the advice of St. Paul to die to our fallen nature by little daily or weekly sacrifices, and live in the new life of the risen Christ.
A blog to communicate the fruits of my own contemplation of Scripture for most of the Sundays and Holy Days of the Liturgical Year. By this blog I hope that you can draw closer to the Triune God and see how the Word of God continues to be living and effective in your own lives.
09 November 2019
04 November 2019
The Grand Tour
Thirty-first Sunday in Ordinary Time
George Jones, or as those of us who listen to classic country music know him, the Possum, had a number of hits with his unique and melancholic voice. One of those hits, with a piano jingle you can’t miss, was “The Grand Tour.” In the song, George takes you on a tour of a house where his wife used to live (before she left him), and all the things that are connected to memories of when they were together. He sings about the chair where she used to bring him the paper and tell him she loved him; about the bed where they slept; about the closet where she hung her clothes; about the nursery where their baby slept. In all of these places, the Possum wants you to see it all so that he can share the pain he’s feeling at his wife leaving him.
Today in the Gospel, Jesus invites Himself to Zacchaeus’ house, where there is a dinner. The locals in Jericho are not too pleased, because Zaccaheus is a tax collector, and tax collectors often increased the amount of money you owed, so that they could earn a living. But Zacchaeus promises to give half of what he owns to the poor, and if he has extorted anything, he promises to repay it fourfold. Zacchaeus received the Lord into his home, and was transformed by the presence of Jesus.
Are we so welcoming to Jesus? In the Book of Revelation, Jesus says, “‘“‘Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will enter his house and dine with him, and he with me.’”’” Jesus wants to be present with us, in our home, and place of comfort and security. He wants fellowship with us, so that we can have fellowship with the Father. But do we welcome Him in like Zacchaeus?
If you house is anything like mine was when I was growing up, whenever we had guests over there were certain rooms the guests didn’t get to see, which happened to be the places where we’d put all of the stuff that we didn’t make time to put away before the guests came over. Usually the guests didn’t mind missing out on that one room during the nickel and dime tour of the house. But Jesus is not like other guests. He wants to see us all.
When Adam and Eve sinned, after they clothed themselves to hide themselves from each other, they also tried to hide from God. They went to a part of the Garden of Eden in which they thought they could get away from God. How often are there parts of our lives into which we don’t want God to look. We hide them from God, or close the door of our hearts to God, thinking that if the rest of the house is clean, then we don’t have to worry about those messes that we have put away in a different room.
In fact, God wants to enter every part of our house. There is nothing in our life to which God does not want access. But God is not a robber. He will not break into the parts of our lives that we don’t want to hand over to Him. That may seem like good news, but in reality, the rooms where we hide all our junk are exactly the rooms that keep us separated from God, that don’t allow us to experience the full joy of a relationship with Him, because a true relationship with God means giving Him our all, not just the parts we want Him to have.
This makes perfect sense when we think about it like a marital relationship. Imagine owning a house with your spouse, but there’s one room where he or she won’t let you go. Because we not omniscient, the curiosity would probably eat away at us. It would create a barrier between you and your spouse, which, if not resolved, could easily lead to the break-up of the marriage.
Or imagine after ten years of marriage with your spouse, a young adult comes to your front door and knocks. And when you ask who the person is, he tells you that he’s your spouse’s child from 20 years ago. I would imagine you would be confused, hurt, angry, and a whole range of other emotions. You would feel like you had a right to know, even if your spouse thought it was going to be too embarrassing. And not having that full disclosure would eat away at your relationship, making you wonder what other secrets your spouse might be keeping from you.
In reality, God knows what’s in that one room that we don’t want Him to enter. God knows all the secrets of our life. But, because He loves us, and love never forces itself on the other, He will never force us to reveal what’s behind the door, or what’s in our past. Still, while it’s not an obstacle to God, because His love for us is everlasting, it is an obstacle for us, because in order to have the full joy of a relationship with God, He has to receive everything from us, not just the parts that we want to share.
Today, here at Mass and when you go home, enjoying the rest of the Christian Sabbath, invite God to take the grand tour of the house of your heart and soul. Open up every door for Him. Show him the clean rooms and the rooms where there’s a mess. Invite Jesus: “Step right up, come on in.”
George Jones, or as those of us who listen to classic country music know him, the Possum, had a number of hits with his unique and melancholic voice. One of those hits, with a piano jingle you can’t miss, was “The Grand Tour.” In the song, George takes you on a tour of a house where his wife used to live (before she left him), and all the things that are connected to memories of when they were together. He sings about the chair where she used to bring him the paper and tell him she loved him; about the bed where they slept; about the closet where she hung her clothes; about the nursery where their baby slept. In all of these places, the Possum wants you to see it all so that he can share the pain he’s feeling at his wife leaving him.
Today in the Gospel, Jesus invites Himself to Zacchaeus’ house, where there is a dinner. The locals in Jericho are not too pleased, because Zaccaheus is a tax collector, and tax collectors often increased the amount of money you owed, so that they could earn a living. But Zacchaeus promises to give half of what he owns to the poor, and if he has extorted anything, he promises to repay it fourfold. Zacchaeus received the Lord into his home, and was transformed by the presence of Jesus.
Are we so welcoming to Jesus? In the Book of Revelation, Jesus says, “‘“‘Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will enter his house and dine with him, and he with me.’”’” Jesus wants to be present with us, in our home, and place of comfort and security. He wants fellowship with us, so that we can have fellowship with the Father. But do we welcome Him in like Zacchaeus?
If you house is anything like mine was when I was growing up, whenever we had guests over there were certain rooms the guests didn’t get to see, which happened to be the places where we’d put all of the stuff that we didn’t make time to put away before the guests came over. Usually the guests didn’t mind missing out on that one room during the nickel and dime tour of the house. But Jesus is not like other guests. He wants to see us all.
When Adam and Eve sinned, after they clothed themselves to hide themselves from each other, they also tried to hide from God. They went to a part of the Garden of Eden in which they thought they could get away from God. How often are there parts of our lives into which we don’t want God to look. We hide them from God, or close the door of our hearts to God, thinking that if the rest of the house is clean, then we don’t have to worry about those messes that we have put away in a different room.
In fact, God wants to enter every part of our house. There is nothing in our life to which God does not want access. But God is not a robber. He will not break into the parts of our lives that we don’t want to hand over to Him. That may seem like good news, but in reality, the rooms where we hide all our junk are exactly the rooms that keep us separated from God, that don’t allow us to experience the full joy of a relationship with Him, because a true relationship with God means giving Him our all, not just the parts we want Him to have.
This makes perfect sense when we think about it like a marital relationship. Imagine owning a house with your spouse, but there’s one room where he or she won’t let you go. Because we not omniscient, the curiosity would probably eat away at us. It would create a barrier between you and your spouse, which, if not resolved, could easily lead to the break-up of the marriage.
Or imagine after ten years of marriage with your spouse, a young adult comes to your front door and knocks. And when you ask who the person is, he tells you that he’s your spouse’s child from 20 years ago. I would imagine you would be confused, hurt, angry, and a whole range of other emotions. You would feel like you had a right to know, even if your spouse thought it was going to be too embarrassing. And not having that full disclosure would eat away at your relationship, making you wonder what other secrets your spouse might be keeping from you.
In reality, God knows what’s in that one room that we don’t want Him to enter. God knows all the secrets of our life. But, because He loves us, and love never forces itself on the other, He will never force us to reveal what’s behind the door, or what’s in our past. Still, while it’s not an obstacle to God, because His love for us is everlasting, it is an obstacle for us, because in order to have the full joy of a relationship with God, He has to receive everything from us, not just the parts that we want to share.
Today, here at Mass and when you go home, enjoying the rest of the Christian Sabbath, invite God to take the grand tour of the house of your heart and soul. Open up every door for Him. Show him the clean rooms and the rooms where there’s a mess. Invite Jesus: “Step right up, come on in.”
The sycamore tree in Jericho that Zacchaeus climbed to see Jesus |