Walking through Pagan Lands

Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  By now we’re probably all aware of the debacle that was the opening ceremonies of the Paris Olympics.  I didn’t watch it (I’m honestly not that big of an Olympics fan).  And I’m sure there were some nice parts to it.  However, the story quickly became how the opening ceremonies mocked Christianity by mimicking da Vinci’s “The Last Supper” with drag queens, transitioning to a mostly-naked man depicting Dionysius, the pagan god of revelry and debauchery.

    Bishop Barron had some good commentary on the whole thing, including the so-called apology after the fact.  And bishops from across the United States and the world have condemned this unnecessary antagonism towards Christianity, some noting that no such thing would have every been done concerning Mohammed or the Buddha.  I’ll let those commentaries speak for themselves.
    What struck me is how we really do live in pagan times.  I’m sure I knew this subconsciously, but the opening ceremonies certainly cemented it in my mind.  None of us lived during the first few centuries of Catholicism, before the Emperor Constantine legalized it in the early fourth century, but I doubt it was much different from what we saw on our screens (there’s just an easier way to share the depravity now with television and social media).
    So what do we do?  How do we live our lives in a post-christendom age?  I would suggest our Gospel gives us a clue.  The pagan world is like the man who was deaf and mute.  It is a world that is alive, but is not as it is supposed to be.  It lacks the ability to live up to its fullest potential.  The Decapolis was a group of ten city-states not far from the Sea of Galilee that had some Jewish population, but was mostly pagan.  The Lord, though his primary mission was to the lost sheep of the house of Israel, walked through a thoroughly pagan territory (this is one example; the other famous is His journey where He encountered the Gerasene demoniac).  So Christ then, like us today, walked through pagan lands.
    What did Christ do?  He opened the deaf and mute man’s ears and loosened his tongue.  In this way, the man could then hear the Gospel and share it.  Now, at this point, I do have to address the admonition that Christ gave the man who He healed to tell no one.  Mark’s Gospel is full of these warnings not to speak about what the Redeemer had done.  Why?  Part of St. Mark’s point, I believe, is that the Lord wants belief through faith.  The miracles He works demonstrates who He is, but they cannot take the place of faith.  And so He wants to draw the people to true and abiding faith in Himself as the Son of God, not just amazement and the miracles.  
    But back to the man, who, in some sense, represents paganism.  He needs someone to open his ears and to allow him to speak.  And not just speak anything, but speak the truth.  Paganism, a rejection of the true God, struggles to hear what is true and speak what is true.  It has some truth (think of Aristotle, Plato, Socrates, for example), but that truth is muddled in with so much error.  Only when Christ come can the truth that the pagan world recognized be purified so that it doesn’t lead others astray (think of the Christianization of Plato and Aristotle by St. Augustine and St. Thomas Aquinas, respectively, for example).  
    So, our role, as little christs, little anointed ones, sealed with the Holy Spirit to proclaim the Gospel, is to go to paganism and open their ears to the truth so that their lips can proclaim the Gospels.  Our mission is to take the water of baptism and apply it to paganism as we cry out to God and say Ephpheta, that is, be opened.  This is done, not by force, but by the witness of a life lived in fidelity to what Christ has taught, and sharing the reason for our hope.  That is how the Christians of the first few centuries secretly and very successfully converted much of Roman society, which was itself marked by polarization between the rich and poor, the increased stretching of the Roman military apparatus across the known world, and the licentiousness of those who had power and money (sound familiar?).  
    The early Catholics were known for not discriminating between Jew and non-Jew (Gentile was the word used, also sometimes Greek).  They didn’t practice enslavement.  They didn’t consider women and children property, but equal sharers in the new life that Christ won by His Passion, Death, and Resurrection.  This is what St. Paul meant when he wrote to the Galatians, “There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free person, there is not male and female; for you are all one in Christ Jesus.”  He wasn’t talking about gender identity or power struggles.  He was talking about how everyone was welcome to follow Christ, on Christ’s terms, and that the most important identity was that of a disciple.  In our invitations to others, we should have the same approach–invite everyone, regardless of race, religion, gender, socio-economic status, etc.–to follow Christ as He instructs us.
    Early Catholics drew people in by the way that they were happier because they didn’t worry about the power struggles, and the never-ending pursuit of riches.  An ancient Christian apologetic letter called The Epistle of Diognetus, showing how Catholics were not subversive but followed a higher law, wrote that Catholics “share their food by not their wives.”  They care for the poor, they exercise hospitality, but they do not share the perverse Roman sexual mores.  We, too, can live in such a way that we care for the poor, we show kindness to others, and exercise chastity and modesty in our relationships with others.  
    This was the way that pagan Rome became Christendom (albeit over centuries).  This was the way that the Church moved from being a bunch of small communities of maybe 30-50 people to metropolises of Catholic life and culture.  It worked then, and I believe it will work now.  We may not have the power we used to; we may not be able to keep public debauchery and indecency at bay anymore; but we can witness to Christ and the freedom and joy that come from living the Gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ, who with the Father and the Holy Spirit, live and reign for ever and ever.  Amen.

Being a Holy Family

 First Sunday after Epiphany-Holy Family

   In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  I think when many think about the Holy Family, they go immediately to Jesus, Mary, and Joseph; and rightly so.  I love my family dearly, but, I’ll be honest, I never really considered my family a holy family.  That’s not to say we were pagans or reprobate.  But when you’re used to the fights between siblings, the tension that exists between adolescent children who want more freedom and caring parents who want their kids to make smart decisions and keep children safe (sometimes you could cut that tension with a knife), the cruel words and fighting over which TV show to watch, you don’t tend to think of yourselves as holy.  We did go to Mass every Sunday (never a question of if, but when) and Holyday; we abstained from meat on Fridays of Lent; we prayed a family rosary on long car-rides for summer vacation or the rare trip to Disney World; we had a Advent wreath, and contributed to the Rice Bowl collections during Lent.  So it’s not like we were a horrible family, but, growing up, I never really thought about us as a holy family.
    We are blessed with many families here, families that are often growing in size or new generations.  And yes, as a confessor, I hear about family fights, arguments between parents and children, or even spouses.  But what’s the norm for being a holy family?  Does it entail that two of the members of a family out of three are sinless?  If that’s the bar, then we’re all in for disappointment.  I would suggest, though, that our readings on this first Sunday after Epiphany, as we celebrate the Holy Family, gives us some clues.  
    I’ll start with our Lord.  Mary and Joseph find Christ in the temple, after He decided to stay behind (without letting them know).  Of course, our Lord never sinned, but I would not suggest that staying anywhere, even at church, without letting your parents know is a recipe for holiness for anyone else.  But our Savior was, as we would say, at church.  And that is key to being a holy family: go to church.  I realize I’m preaching to the choir.  But as we share the Gospel, and talk with other Catholic and Christian families, we can share with them that one of the basic ingredients of a holy family is going to church every Sunday and Holyday.  I am, of course, excluding the times when you are sick; please don’t come when you are ill, especially if it’s contagious and serious, like the flu or COVID.  The church dispenses you during illness, or even if you can’t make it because you’re caring for a sick family member and can’t make it.  But otherwise, go to Mass.  That’s a basic part of being a holy family.
    Secondly, and also from our Gospel, be open to the will of God, even when it doesn’t necessarily make sense.  Mary and Joseph were worried about the Lord, but they embraced His decision to be in His Father’s house, once He explained that He was supposed to be there.  That wasn’t easy for the Blessed Mother and St. Joseph.  But they accepted it as the will of God.  We like it when the will of God happens to coincide with our will, but sometimes it doesn’t; how do we respond in those instances?  This is certainly a harder part of being a holy family, especially when God allows very difficult things to happen to us.  
    St. Paul also outlines ways to be a holy family.  The first one I want to mention is forgiveness.  This is, perhaps, another difficult part of being a holy family.  It’s so easy to hold on to grudges, to stew about old wounds, to hit back when a sibling hits us first, or rip that thing out of their hand that we wanted.  It’s so easy to act on our passions and respond with retribution.  But that’s not the way of the holy family.  Forgive others, St. Paul says, as Christ has forgiven us.  Even if the other person isn’t sorry, forgive him or her.  Family slights are often small, and often easily forgiven because we love the other and want to move on and have family harmony.  But even in bigger offenses, we are called to forgive.
    This doesn’t mean that parents can’t discipline their children.  Forgiveness doesn’t mean ignoring a chance to help a child, of whatever age, learn an important lesson in virtue.  Even the Scriptures say that the Lord loves those whom He disciplines.  But the Lord doesn’t keep coming back to that past fault or failing.  Once forgiven, it’s gone; erased from any consideration of who we are.  And that’s the goal for which we should strive.  
    Humility is another important virtue for family life.  When we think that we are more than we are, we usually get into trouble as families.  Whether it’s comparing virtue, or who’s left in charge when mom and dad are gone, or even based upon achievements in school, work, or life, it’s easy to get puffed up with pride.  But pride is not the way of the Gospel, and not the way of a holy family.  Humility does not hide one’s gift, but uses it for the good of the other, and recognizes that any gift is not given to be kept to the self or to put others down, but to raise everyone up and help everyone succeed.  This, too, can be tough to live out, but it is a key to success.  
    And, above all these, put on love, says St. Paul.  Love is something that we often associate with family.  It is the greatest blessing of family life, and the way that we first encounter God as a child: through the love of our family.  The love of God is not based upon what we have done, but is given simply because we belong to Him.  So with the family, love is not something that family members should have to earn, but should be given simply because we are family.  I love Bishop Barron’s definition of love: willing the good of the other.  It’s not merely an emotion or a good feeling.  True love is exercised even when the feelings and emotions are not there.  But it is doing what is best for the other, even if the other doesn’t recognize what is best.  Love is sometimes saying no; setting curfews; assigning chores; kissing wounds; embracing a heart-broken family member; applauding good work, correcting bad behavior, and much more.  Love is at the heart, if you’ll pardon the pun, of being a holy family, just like the love that was shared among the Sacred Heart of Jesus, the Immaculate Heart of Mary (pierced by a sword), and the Chaste Heart of St. Joseph.  Love is key to being a holy family.
    Even if you don’t consider yourself a holy family, do those things that I have mentioned, and you’ll be on your way.  It may not always seem like it, and you won’t do it perfectly (nor does anyone else), but following though on what we heard in the Scriptures today will help you be the holy family that you are called to be by God the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  Amen.