Christ Visiting Our Home

 Solemnity of the Anniversary of the Dedication of St. Matthew
    [In the name of the Father, and of the Son, of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.]. Bishop Boyea has a homily he wants read at every Mass this weekend about the upcoming Synod on Synodality.  But we have a special celebration as we celebrate the Anniversary of the Dedication of St. Matthew today.  So you get two homilies for the price of one today.  Still, I’ll try to keep mine brief.
    I want to focus in particular on the Gospel.  Zacchaeus might seem an odd choice for a Gospel on the Anniversary of the Dedication of a Church.  [In the Ordinary Form, there are other options like a pericope from the encounter with the Samaritan woman at the well, or I think the cleansing of the Temple].  But it really does make sense, if you think about it.  In this encounter with Zacchaeus, our Lord wants to visit his house.  Isn’t this precisely what our Lord does in a church building?  Doesn’t He ask to dwell with us, in the house of worship of our parish?  Of course, He doesn’t simply stay for dinner.  He remains here, which is why this space is dedicated, or set apart for sacred use.  

Zacchaeus' sycamore tree in Jericho

    We are, in this interpretation, Zacchaeus.  We are a tax collector, who is rich, that is to say, we probably have skimmed off the top.  That’s how tax collectors made reasonable money in the ancient days (hopefully not the present day): they would add money to the taxes owed, that they would then pocket.  But, whether we collect extra money literally or figuratively, we’re sinners.  Still, the Lord wants to dwell with us.  And once we encounter Him, it should lead us, like Zaccheus, to change our lives.  The whole point of Christ coming to dwell with us in this sacred temple is that we might be more configured to Christ, that Christ may more easily dwell within the temple of our hearts and souls.  If we are not drawn to change our lives, even if we feel like we’re making the same changes week by week, then we’re not truly encountering Christ.  This is not because He’s not here, but because we haven’t welcomed Him in.
    But Christ also wants to dwell in the hearts of other people.  And so this sacred space should also encourage us, through what we engage in here, to help others see the Lord.  We are the disciples who bring the Lord to other towns besides Jericho, so that Christ may dwell in the hearts of other sinners who need saving, just like we need saving.  In that way, Christ doesn’t just stop at the house of Zacchaeus; He goes to other houses, too.  
    So while we celebrate this beautiful church today, and the anniversary of when it was set aside for divine worship, we cannot rest on our laurels.  We are asked by Christ to take Him to others, so that He can draw them from their sin, and so feel comfortable living in them.  So, too, we work at continuing to make the temple of our hearts a place where Christ feels at home, so that our souls are the temples of the Holy Spirit, who with God the Father and God the Son, is one God, for ever and ever.  Amen. 

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.”

The sycamore tree in Jericho that Zacchaeus climbed to see Jesus

Shopping on an Empty Stomach

Thirty-first Sunday in Ordinary Time

People say that is bad to go grocery shopping on an empty stomach.  The reason for this is that some types of food, which on a full stomach you might not have considered purchasing, suddenly seem more enticing.  I know grocery shopping when I’m hungry is definitely dangerous.  This past Thursday I went shopping on an empty stomach.  I originally had planned only to pick up a pumpkin to carve for Halloween, some carrots, potatoes, and celery for a pot roast I was cooking that day, and some apples.  But then I saw the caramel, and imagined how tasty that would be with apple slices.  And then I saw sour gummy worms, and could almost taste the sweet and sour candy in my mouth.  Needless to say, I ended up picking up a few more things than I originally had intended.

Our Gospel today begins by saying that Jesus intended to pass through the town of Jericho.  Jesus must have been hungry for souls, because a crowd quickly forms, and Jesus, through this crowd, sees a soul who is hungering for Jesus, even as Jesus hungers for his soul.  Zacchaeus had to climb up a tree (and there is a tree in Jericho today which alleges to be the sycamore tree Zacchaeus climbed) to see Jesus.  But Jesus notices Zacchaeus, and invites Himself over to dinner at Zacchaeus’ house.

The Zacchaeus Sycamore Tree in Jericho

 

Do we hunger for Jesus?  What would we do to see Jesus?  Recently a few new Chick-fil-As opened in Michigan.  The first one hundred people at the new stores received one free meal per week for a year from Chick-fil-A.  I know that people camp out, sometimes for days, just to have a chance to win some free, tasty chicken for a year.  It’s interesting, though, that some of us are content to show up for Mass 10-15 minutes late.  Or think about how early most people arrive at a stadium to either tailgate or watch a game.  Most people are quite upset if they miss kick-off.  And yet we can put off prayer, our time to be with Jesus and talk and listen to Him, quite easily.  

If we do show up to Mass on time, stay for all the Mass, and set aside time daily to pray, then we need to ask ourselves if we’re as hungry to bring others to Jesus as Jesus was.  Again, Jesus intended to pass through Jericho.  But, noticing Zacchaeus’ hunger for Him, Jesus spent time there, and even had dinner with Zacchaeus.  Do we want to bring others to Jesus?  Last week Deacon Dave preached about our Evangelization Plan, of how we can bring others, especially fallen-away Catholics back to the practice of their faith.  Have we filled it out?  Did we even take one home?  Or do just sit back and figure if people want to come to church again, they will?  

Imagine for a second that the Apostles, after Pentecost, waited for people to come to the upper room.  Would thousands of people have been baptized on that very day?  And would the faith have spread?  Would the world have been changed for the better by the Gospel?  The answer is obvious: of course not.  And yet, we can often have the mentality that we’ll just wait for people to come back to church, or join the church, without any work on our part.  By our baptism, we have each become a member of the Church, and by our confirmation, we have each been sent out to help people know the truth and love of Jesus, which will make them happy and will help them on the road to heaven, which God desires for every person.  At our confirmation we were given a mission to work to bring as many people into a relationship with Jesus, even as we continue to work on our own relationship with Jesus.  It is not only the work of priests, deacons, and religious.  In fact, the transformation of the world by preaching the Gospel is really the work of the laity; at least that’s what Vatican II emphasized.  

Vatican II says, in its Constitution on the Church that the laity are called to “make Christ known to others, especially by the testimony of a life resplendent in faith, hope and charity (n. 31).”  In the Vatican II decree on the apostolate, or work of spreading the Gospel, we read, “The apostolate of the laity derives from their Christian vocation and the Church can never be without it. […] The Church was founded for the purpose of spreading the kingdom of Christ throughout the earth for the glory of God the Father, to enable all men to share in His saving redemption, and that through them the whole world might enter into a relationship with Christ (nn. 1, 2).”

Christ is hungry for us and our love.  Are we hungry for others to know Jesus Christ?  Jesus, and so many fallen-away Catholics are waiting for us to be hungry to help others know Jesus and His Church.  Would we have them starve?

Love Changes Us

Thirty-first Sunday in Ordinary Time

            When I was a junior in high school, there was this girl I had a big crush on.  She sat right in front of me in Spanish class.  She was attractive, kind, and into her faith: the trifecta of beauty.  But she and I weren’t really good friends.  So I had to figure out a way to get to talk with her, and more than just comparing notes for Spanish class.  I soon learned that she was into country music, so I started listening to country, too.  Before that, my only exposure to America’s music had been the classic stuff (like George Jones or Merle Haggard) I’d hear at my grandparents on a Saturday morning listening to WITL as they cooked pancakes and sausage for us.  But, I started listening to both old and new so this girl and I could talk.

            I’m sure I’m not the only guy who has “expanded his horizons” in order to talk more with a girl.  In fact, I’d guess that most of you husbands have changed certain things in order to impress your wives, even if it was just learning how to put the seat down.  And many wives here have probably learned to put up with idiosyncrasies they never envisioned because they love their husbands.

According to tradition, the Sycamore
tree which Zacchaeus climbed
to see Jesus in Jericho

            Love of a person, whether it be just a crush, or even into marriage, changes us, and hopefully for the better.  When we love someone, we are willing to do things differently for the one we love.  We see that in our Gospel today.  Zacchaeus comes into contact with Jesus, whom he loves, and Zacchaeus changes.  Jesus doesn’t even say anything to him, other than asking to eat at his house, and Zacchaeus affirms, “‘Behold, half of my possessions, Lord, I shall give to the poor, and if I have extorted anything from anyone I shall repay it four times over.’”  Zacchaeus loves Jesus enough that he is willing to give away half of what he owns to the poor, and to make good any cheating that he had done before when collecting people’s taxes.

            Here we are, the People of God, sons and daughters adopted by God the Father in baptism, many of us coming into contact with Jesus at least once a week as we hear His Word, are reminded of His presence through the ministry of the priest, and receive the Body and Blood of Jesus into us.  We have come to meet Jesus and He makes Himself known to us in the People, in His Word, in the Priest, and especially in the Eucharist, and are we different?  Are we willing to change for the one we claim to love?  If not, how much do we really love Him?

            One of my favorite scenes from “The Godfather III” is when Michael Corleone is making his confession.  Cardinal Lamberto, who is hearing his confession, picks up a little rock that has been sitting in a fountain and says, “Look at this stone.  It has been lying in the water for a very long time, but the water has not penetrated it.”  He breaks the stone.  “Look.” he says, “Perfectly dry.  The same thing has happened to men in Europe.  For centuries they have been surrounded by Christianity, but Christ has not penetrated.  Christ doesn’t breathe within them.”  We could say the same thing about us Americans.  For over two centuries we have had the faith active in the US, sometimes under great persecution, but has Christ effected us?  Has Jesus changed us?  Do we love Jesus enough that we want to change how we live?

            Will it be hard to change?  More difficult from some than for others.  We are enmeshed in a culture of death that sacrifices the life of an innocent child for the sake of a comfortable lifestyle; that desires comfort above all else; that objectifies men and women as tools to satisfy our lust and libido, whether on the internet, or in real life, even in marriages; that denies that anyone can say one thing is true and another is false because everyone has their point of view, and we can’t really know truth; that rewards power and mocks obedience to legitimate authority.  It is the culture in which I grew up; it is the culture in which many of you grew up; it is the culture in which we all now live.  But it is not significantly different from the culture in AD 33, or 67, or 90.  The only thing that is different is that in our country, we have the right to freely practice our religion, at least for now.  We face a similar culture as the Greco-Roman culture of the time of the greatest flourishing of our faith, the largest explosion of heart-felt conversions.  The pagans didn’t change their life because the philosophy and the rules of the Christians made more sense or made life easier, they changed their life because they fell in love with Jesus, and every other change they had to make was worth it because of His love and the gift of eternal life that He offered to those who follow Him. 

            This New Evangelization that we keep talking about is all about getting to know and love Jesus.  We have received the Sacraments, which are catalysts for a relationship with Jesus, but I dare say that many of us in this celebration of the Mass are practical strangers to Jesus.  We know Jesus as well as we know President Obama, or Pope Francis, or Miguel Cabrera.  We know of them, maybe we know a lot about them, but we don’t know them personally.  And because we don’t know Jesus personally, we cannot be in love with Him; we cannot love a person that we don’t know.  Zacchaeus was willing to go out on a limb—literally—to get to know Jesus, and so was able to love Him and be transformed by that love.  What are we willing to do to get to know Jesus?

            If we are willing to change what music we listen to, or how we appear, or what we do for a person we merely crush on, let alone another human person we truly love, why are we not willing to change for the Divine Person who loved us so much, even when we were unlovable, that He died for us?  Why do we pretend that being a stranger to Jesus is an acceptable way to live our Catholic faith?  Are we afraid to change?  Are we afraid of what Jesus will demand?  Pope Benedict XVI once said:

Are we not perhaps all afraid in some way?  If we let Christ enter fully into our lives, if we open ourselves totally to him, are we not afraid that he might take something away from us?  Are we not perhaps afraid to give up something significant, something unique, something that makes life so beautiful?  Do we not then risk ending up diminished and deprived of our freedom?  …No!  If we let Christ into our lives, we lose nothing, nothing, absolutely nothing of what makes life free, beautiful and great.  No!  Only in this friendship are the doors of life opened wide.  Only in this friendship is the great potential of human existence truly revealed.  Only in this friendship do we experience beauty and liberation.  And so, today, with great strength and great conviction, on the basis of a long personal experience of life, I say to you…Do not be afraid of Christ!  He takes nothing away, and he gives you everything.  When we give ourselves to him, we receive a hundredfold in return.  Yes, open, open wide the doors to Christ—and you will find true life.”

            Luckily, as our first reading states, the Lord is merciful and patient.  He gives us time to know Him more deeply and love Him.  He stands knocking at the doors of our hearts, waiting for us to answer.  But we do not have unlimited time.  Brothers and sisters, “now is the acceptable time!  Now is the day of salvation!”  Join a Bible study; join a faith-sharing group; serve at a soup kitchen; read books on the faith like the US Catholic Catechism for Adults, YouthCat, and books on the lives of the saints.  Do all you can to see Jesus, to know Jesus, to love Jesus.  “Do not be afraid!”

Welcoming Jesus into our Homes

Thirty-first Sunday in Ordinary Time

            What are the reasons we invite people over to our house?  Maybe it’s a birthday party, and we want to celebrate the anniversary of our birth with our friends; maybe it’s a school project that has to get done; maybe it’s to watch movies with our friends or a significant other; maybe it’s to watch the big game.  No matter what the reason, we invite people over to share friendship and fellowship; we want to enjoy one another’s company; we want to celebrate a holiday or Holy Day with family.  Inviting someone over to our house is a way of expression communion with them, even if it’s on a very basic level.

According to tradition, the tree that
Zacchaeus climbed to see Jesus

            In our Gospel today, though, Zacchaeus does not invite Jesus into his home.  Rather, Jesus invites Himself in.  What is interesting is that Jesus did not originally intend to visit Zacchaeus.  St. Luke relates that Jesus, “intended to pass through the town” where Zacchaeus was.  But, passing through Jericho, Jesus must have felt the intense love, a love so strong that it caused him to climb the tallest tree on the roadway, so that Zacchaeus’ lack of height would not impede him from getting to see this great man.  And so Jesus approaches Zacchaeus in that tree and says, “‘Zacchaeus, come down quickly, for today I must stay at your house.’” 

            Jesus wishes to be in communion with Zacchaeus.  He wishes to enjoy friendship and fellowship with his tax-collecting host.  Jesus loves Zacchaeus with the love of God, the love of a caring Father, and wishes simply to spend time with one whom others certainly would have shunned from their homes, since he worked for the foreign, idolatrous, Roman government. 

            This recounting of what happened to Zacchaeus is not meant to make us simply say, “Wow!  That was really nice of Jesus.  Look how welcoming He was to the outcasts of His day.”  Rather, it is meant to currently, this day, tell us something.  It is meant to communicate to us how much Jesus wants to enter into our homes and share communion with us.

            “But Father,” you might say, “Jesus doesn’t want to come to my house.  The dishes aren’t done; the room is dirty; we don’t have the special towels out in the bathroom.  And, most importantly, I’m a sinner.  Jesus doesn’t want to come over.  Doesn’t he know what I’ve done?”  Or maybe it’s not that we’re afraid that Jesus will find out that we’re a sinner, but that we’re convinced that Jesus wants nothing to do with us because we’re a sinner.

            In either case, we are wrong.  Jesus does want to come into our homes.  He does want to share His joy and His friendship with us.  He wants to love us.  In the Book of Wisdom, from where our first reading came today, we hear this truth almost in the form of a dialogue: “For you love all things that are and loathe nothing that you have made; for what you hated, you would not have fashioned…O LORD and lover of souls.”  If we have life; if God has brought us from the nothingness of non-existence and created us, with the cooperation of our parents at the moment of our conception, the God loves us.  In fact, it is precisely His love which brings us into existence and keeps us existing for all eternity.  God’s love is stronger for us than a loving mother or father, a devoted grandparent, and even stronger and more intense than the love between a man and a woman united in the sacred bonds of marriage. 

            God wants to come to our house, to be a part of our family.  And His love and His mercy, if we allow it into our lives, will change us, will lead us to repentance for the sins we have committed, so that our home is a fitting place for such a Guest.  And God is not alone in wanting to dwell in our homes.  All of our extended family wants to be at home in our home.  And as a family of faith, our extended family doesn’t just mean grandpa and grandma, uncles and aunts, cousins, and the like.  It means the saints, the holy ones, those parts of our Catholic family that have gone before us and have witnessed to Christ in heroic ways as martyrs, virgins, priests, religious, mothers, fathers, children, and in every way of life of which we can think.  They want us to have fellowship with them, because, as St. John says in his first epistle, their fellowship is with God. 

This Sunday evening and Monday we as a Catholic family celebrate our Catholic saints.  So many of our parents and grandparents used to, and hopefully still do, have images of the Jesus, Mary, and the saints in the home.  And while pictures don’t necessarily mean that we welcome the saints, they do a lot to remind us that the way we live, and the way we have communion as an earthly family, should be a place where Jesus and the saints feel welcome, should feel like family.  We can think of particular patron saints that we have, especially the ones associated with our state of life or work.  We can think of American saints.  We can think of the saint name we have or chose at confirmation. 

Soon Jesus will dwell within us who approach the Eucharist and receive it worthily.  He will make His home in our hearts.  Let us use that grace that we receive from the Most Holy Sacrament, so that in all parts of our life, Jesus and the saints are welcomed.  Let us remind ourselves how much Jesus and the saints are a part of our life by reclaiming the Catholic practice of pictures and statues of the Jesus, Mary and the saints in our homes.  Jesus wants to come and have communion with us.  Will we, like Zacchaeus, welcome him in?