You're So Vain

Twenty-second Sunday in Ordinary Time
    When it comes to ironic songs, certainly one of the top ten is “You’re So Vain,” by Carly Simon.  She spends an entire song talking about a particular person, only to repeat in the refrain time and time again, “You’re so vain / You probably think this song is about you.”  While Carly has revealed to a select few whom the song was written about, there is still widespread speculation about the person who’s so vain.
    When it comes to the virtue of humility, if you think the readings are about you and how to grow in humility, they probably are.  In the end, we all need to grow in the virtue of humility.  Pride is the one sin that we probably will all need to work on until we die, though maybe we have others as well.  
    And, ironically, the virtue of humility helps us to realize that life is not, in the end, about us.  Pride seeks to replace God with our own ego, our own self.  St. Thomas Aquinas teaches us that the original sin consisted of pride: “man’s first sin consisted in coveting some spiritual good above his measure: and this pertains to pride.”  We know the story about the serpent testing Eve, and convincing her that if she ate of the fruit, she would be like God, which enticed her to disobey God’s command not to eat of the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.  Adam followed suit, probably with Eve telling Adam exactly what the serpent told him.  
    Pride can be so insidious because we do have legitimate personal needs upon which we should focus.  It’s legitimate to focus on our need for food and drink; clothing; housing; friendship.  Yet we can twist all those things so that our desire for them becomes inordinate as we convince ourselves that, because of how important we are, we only eat and drink the best.  Or because of our status we cannot shop for clothing at regular stores, but have to only wear Banana Republic or Burberry.  Or if we don’t have a big enough house, the neighbors won’t recognize how well we’re doing.  Or that everyone should like me because, well, what’s not to like?  
    Humility consists, the Angelic Doctor says, in tempering and restraining the mind from focusing on high things immoderately against right reason.  It does not seek after honors or things beyond the greatness to which God calls us as His children.  It allows God to be God, rather than trying to take His place and control all things according to our desires.  

St. Benedict 

    St. Benedict, the great Patriarch of Western Monasticism and founded of the Benedictine Order, lists twelve degrees of humility.  Don’t worry, there’s not a test on memorizing them, but they will be available at my blog, which has all my homilies, and which you can access at the parish website.
    The twelve degrees are, in descending order: “that a man fear God and bear all his commandments in mind”; “by not following one’s own will”; regulating one’s will according to the judgement of a superior; not begin deterred from good actions because of difficulties and hardships; acknowledging one’s own shortcomings; “deeming oneself incapable of great things”; putting others before oneself; “that in one’s work one should not depart from the ordinary way”; not being in a hurry to speak; not overly laughing or being too cheerful; not being “immoderate in speech”; and “restraining haughty [or arrogant] looks.  Again, it might be good to go back to this homily, or simply do a Google search for St. Benedict and the Twelve Degrees of Humility to help us in examining our conscience.  Honestly, as I read through that list, I could probably check off mostly all of them as ways that I need to grow in humility.
    The great thing is that humility allows God to exalt us in a more perfect way.  If we really desire to be great, then we need to serve greatly and humble ourselves, because, as our Lord tells us, “every one who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted.”  And to be clear, Jesus is not telling us to act humble so that God can exalt us, but truly to be humble.

Bl. Solanus Casey

    We see this in the lives of the saints.  First and foremost, in the life of the Blessed Virgin Mary, who sought after no special privileges, but became the Mother of God.  Or St. André Bessette, who was a simple porter, or doorman, at a religious house in Quebec, but became knows as the Miracle Man of Montreal.  Or our own Bl. Solanus Casey, who was only ordained a priest simplex, meaning he could not preach or hear confessions, but whose fame because widespread across the US for the miracles worked through his intercession, even while alive.  None of these sought after fame or miraculous powers, but simply sought to be the person God wanted them to be, and because of that focus on God and doing His will, God elevated them.
    I can tell you that if you don’t think you need to grow in humility, then this homily is about you.  And if you know you need to grow in humility, then you at least recognize the insidious nature of pride.  Through the intercession of the Blessed Virgin Mary, St. André Bessette, and Bl. Solanus Casey, may be put God first in our lives and work for His exaltation, rather than our own.  In all things, may God be glorified!

Humblebrag?

Sexagesima

St. Paul from his basilica in Rome

    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  It seems, at first glance, like St. Paul might be doing what we call today a humble brag.  He spends more than half of today’s epistle talking about all the things he could claim fame to.  He starts by sharing the things he could brag about: his heritage, his nation, his connection to Abraham.  Clearly, other ministers in Corinth had been claiming some sort of prestige because they were Jewish.  But St. Paul reminds the Corinthians that his bonafides are no less than any others, and probably greater than many others.  He then continues by talking about all the ways that he has suffered for the Gospel: receiving lashes, beatings, being shipwrecked, in danger almost everywhere he goes, whether on land or sea, getting threatened by Jews, threatened by Gentiles, being betrayed, not having enough food, drink, or proper clothing.  He then continues talking about “someone he knows” who had visions of the third heaven (today we might say: A friend of mine has this thing).  And he ends up by speaking about a thorn in his flesh, which he had asked the Lord three times to eliminate.
    So is St. Paul trying to direct pity and sympathy towards himself?  Not at all.  The Apostle was combatting those who were trying to modify the Gospel according to their own vision, and basing their ability to change the Gospel on their heritage.  So Paul, in essence, is saying, “You think they’re qualified?!  If pedigree is the issue, mine is better, so listen to me!”  And his list of sufferings is then further proof of why the Corinthians should listen to Paul, because he has laid everything on the line for the Gospel and endured much suffering.  And yes, sometimes people get special gifts, special charisms or visions of things about which we cannot even speak.  Probably, Paul was such a person, as he definitely had a special vision of Christ on the road to Damascus, and perhaps at another time, as well.
    But Paul doesn’t put much stock into those.  Rather, he glories in his weakness, so that what matters is not Paul but the power of Christ within Paul.  It is, as St. John the Baptist says, “He [Christ] must increase; I must decrease.”  Whatever helps the Gospel be spread, that is what is most important.
    Part of spreading the seed of the Gospel is trying to make sure that the soil is ready.  We prepare the soil by our witnessing by word and by deed, and doing so in a way that meets that person where he or she is at, so that we can draw him or her to Christ.  Sometimes people need to see a degree or some sort of formal qualifications.  Other times people need to know that you have gone through similar life experiences in order to trust our proclamation of the Gospel.  Other times people need to hear about specific encounters with God.  So as we proclaim the Gospel, we’ll want to get to know what will help that specific person, and tailor the methods we use to the way that they will be receive the Gospel.  It is, as St. Thomas Aquinas said, that what is received is received according to the mode of the receiver.

Harrison Butker

    There is also an important demonstration from St. Paul when it comes to showing the power of the Gospel is not our own power.  We tend to get really excited when a famous person converts.  There was a lot of hay made when Shia Lebouf spoke about his conversion, and how the Extraordinary Form helped him connect with God in a way that the Ordinary Form did not.  Mark Wahlburg often posts messages about how important his faith is, and he spoke about playing Fr. Stu and how that impacted his own faith.  I have recently been intrigued by the kicker for the Kansas City Chiefs, Harrison Butker, who is a Catholic and attends the Extraordinary Form Mass, and talks about being a disciple first, a husband and father second, and a football player last, but doing all these things with the greatest effort he can.  So praise God for famous people who live the faith.
    But there’s also something to the small people living the faith, the people who aren’t famous, who don’t have everything going for them, or who struggle to make it through week-by-week, but who stay with God and find in Him the pearl of great price.  I think the non-famous people draw us because, when something great happens, we realize that it’s not that person’s natural gifts, but the power and grace of God made manifest.  St. John Vianney, St. Andre Bessette, and Bl. Solanus Casey are perfect examples of this.  From a worldly point of view, they didn’t have much going for them.  And yet, each in their own way, they drew others, often in droves, to Christ.  And the power of Christ was made manifest through their weakness. 
    That should give us hope, because I am not famous, nor are many of you.  As far as I know, none of us are the richest people in Flint, or the most powerful or well-connected.  We each have struggles that we deal with each day and each week.  But in our weakness, God manifests His power.  And those others who are not famous, not rich, not powerful or well-connected can then know that the Gospel is for them, too; that God cares about those who don’t have it all together. 
    We have a lot for which we should give thanks to God.  We have a beautiful church; we have a beautiful Mass; we have a beautiful community here which is committed to the Catholic faith and strives to live that faith out each day as husbands, wives, fathers, mothers, children, brothers, sisters, employers, employees, retirees, etc.  Some have had amazing experiences of God through prayers and retreats.  Others experience God in the every-day happenings of life.  Each of us have our own temptations.  But through it all, God desires that we glorify Him in our greatness and weakness, in our joys and sorrows so that others can experience His saving Word, truth, and grace.  God’s great power is made perfect in our smallness.  Let us glory in being small parts of the great work of salvation of God: the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  Amen.