Captain Jack Sparrow's Compass

Seventeenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
    When the first “Pirates of the Caribbean” movie came out in 2003, I was a bit skeptical.  How could you make a good movie based upon a ride at Disney World?  But, the movie was quite good, and led to a number of even decent sequels following (some better than others).

    One of the main characters is Captain Jack Sparrow (played by Johnny Depp), who is a pirate.  He always seems to get in and out of the oddest types of trouble through the strangest set of circumstances.  His goal, especially in the first movie, is to get back his beloved ship, the Black Pearl, of which he was mutinied when he was commanding.  To aid him, he has a strange compass, which doesn’t point north.  It’s not until later that we learn that this compass always points to what his heart desires most, which makes it a little complicated when he falls in love with one of the female leads, Elizabeth Swan (played by Keira Knightley). 
    Jesus today in the Gospel talks about the kingdom of heaven as a great treasure, or a pearl of great price.  Once a person finds it, they give up everything in order to have it.  To those in the parables, the compass would have pointed to heaven (if that were possible).  There is something about heaven that makes it worth everything else that we have. 
    And in some sense, we all probably can intellectually agree with that evaluation.  Heaven is eternal happiness with God.  We no longer experience pain, sorrow, death, or any of the fallen realities of this life.  We see God face to face, and God, who is love, surrounds us and embraces us eternally.  We worship God in His majesty with all those who are saints, whether canonized or known only to God.  That sounds pretty good.
    And yet, like Captain Jack Sparrow, the compasses that reflect the desires of our hearts, do not always point to heaven, but sometimes go every which way.  Perhaps we feel that no one else knows about the treasure in the field, so we figure we can do some other things before getting back to the treasure.  Or we tell the pearl merchant to hold the pearl on lay-away, and will come back some other time to pick-it up.  But we start to value other things ahead of heaven, and we chase after those these, even when we’re not sure what we will find, or if it’s even worth it.

    Part of our call as disciples is to ever-purify our desire for heaven.  I think the last time I preached on this Gospel I referenced the Kenny Chesney song that sings, “Everybody wants to go to heaven / but nobody wants to go now.”  Whether we’re parents training our kids, or simply training ourselves, we have an important role in making sure that we’re fixed on the trail of heaven, like a bloodhound seeking out an escaped convict, or Captain Jack Sparrow looking for his beloved ship. 
    Sometimes, the call to make sure that we’re on the road to heaven means ignoring the other sirens (Greek mythology, not emergency alerting devices) that call to us, and seem very attractive, but actually lead to destruction and death.  There are so many things that we, as followers of Christ, do not need to see or hear, because they lead us away from God.  Of course, we like to think that we are stronger than we are, that we can handle those sirens without being led astray.  But more often than not, we’re weak, and we will run headlong to destruction given the chance.
    At other times, we cannot avoid things that distract us from heaven, because they are all around us, and so we train ourselves to remember just how precious heaven is, or focus on other things that will not lead us astray.  I remember being in college seminary, which was on the campus of a small, Catholic, liberal arts co-ed campus.  As soon as it started to warm up in Minnesota, the college girls would bring out their towels and soak up the sun in the quad.  Our priests would sometimes remind us that, as we walked to class on those warm, sunny days, it was often good to examine just how beautiful the sidewalk could be, how many cracks were there, what weeds were popping up through the concrete, etc., just so that we wouldn’t be tempted to take that second, interested, lustful, sinful look. 
    Our hearts are often a mixed bag.  Age has a way of purifying that which we desire.  Older people tend to be quite serious about where they are going after they die.  But God doesn’t promise us that we will reach 80 or 90 years.  He promises to give us sufficient grace each day to say yes to heaven, and then we, in response, have to decide if we want to accept that grace or not.    Yes, at church, if we had Captain Jack Sparrow’s compass, our hearts would (hopefully) point to heaven.  But our goal is that the compass always points to heaven, not just for an hour on Sundays.  May we truly recognize how precious heaven is (and how sad and easy it can be to lose heaven), and have the strength to give up lesser realities and lesser desires for the eternal happiness of heaven.

"If I Had A Million Dollars"

Seventeenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

            If I were to ask you what you wanted right now, at this moment, what would your answer be?  A short homily?  Millions of dollars?  Both are probably equally likely.  Maybe we want an end to a disease or an illness.  Maybe we want a loved one back who is either estranged from us, or has died.  What is it that we want?

           

Each culture has its own way of seeking wishes.  The Irish have catching a leprechaun.  We can probably all remember the story of Aladdin and the genie who grants three wishes when Aladdin rubs his magic lamp.  Maybe we throw pennies into wishing wells, or just say our wish to the wishing well like Snow White.  In the past few years there has been a surge in people making wishes at 11:11 p.m., and then posting the time on Twitter, just to make sure people know they’re making a wish.  But we all want to have our desires granted.  And more often than not, our wishes are for passing things.

            That’s what makes Solomon’s prayer (not quite a wish) so unique.  The desire of his heart is not for riches, or the death of his enemies, or long life for himself, but for wisdom so that he can rule well over the Chosen People.  If the Lord appeared to me tonight in a dream and asked what I wanted, I hope I would say that I wanted wisdom to help shepherd this parish well.  But a few million dollars for the parish wouldn’t hurt either.  I’d like to think that my desire would be as pure as Solomon’s, but sometimes the desires of the world get in there, even with the best of intentions.

            In today’s Gospel, Jesus tells us that the kingdom of heaven is what we should desire above all else.  He compares it to a treasure of great price in a field that a person finds, and then goes and buys the field to get the treasure; or like a pearl of great price that a merchant sells all he has to buy because of its priceless quality.   If I told you that Fr. Dave, before he left, inherited 5 million dollars in cash and left it somewhere on the parish property, this whole campus would be torn up by people looking for it.  Imagine what someone could do with that money: take a vacation, pay off the mortgage, feed the poor, start a new business.  As much and more as we would desire that 5 million dollars, that is the measure of how much we should value the kingdom of heaven.

            And look at what people will do for lots of money.  They conquer their greatest fears and do really weird stuff like on “Fear Factor.”  They live in a house or in the middle of nowhere with complete strangers and go through physical and mental tests like in “Big Brother” or “Survivor.”  Prime time television is full of shows of people doing funny/stupid/amazing things just to win some money.  What are we willing to do for the kingdom of heaven?

            What we are willing to do always returns to where our hearts are and what we desire.  If we feel the prize is good enough, we are willing to go through a lot to obtain that prize.  St. Francis of Assisi, according to tradition, struggled at times with chastity, with using the gift of his sexuality well.  So, whenever he was tempted to misuse that gift, he jumped into a rose bush so that his mind would move away from the temptation and move towards all those little thorns digging into his flesh.  Now, I’m not suggesting that if you’re tempted to unchaste acts you should start jumping into thorns, but St. Francis showed us that he valued heaven so much, that he was even willing to undergo bodily pain to make sure he could obtain his true desire: heaven.

            In this, my first weekend in St. Joseph parish, I want to let you know that my goal, my pastoral plan, my mission is to help you desire heaven and help you to get there.  A good shepherd leads his sheep towards green pastures and fresh water, and that’s what I’m going to try to do.  By what I say from the ambo and in my bulletin articles; by my actions whether in the church building, in the office, or out and about; by my prayers I will try to help you as your shepherd.  But even though I am a leader of this community, I am also a part of it, and need your help so that I can desire heaven above all things and make sure I’m getting closer and closer.  Will I help lead you perfectly?  No.  That’s why I’ll go to confession and ask for your forgiveness when I don’t do it well.  Will you do it perfectly?  No.  That’s why I’ll be available for confession.  And in asking God and the community’s forgiveness, we will receive grace from God to reorder our desires in the right way, and get back on the path towards heaven. 

            Each Sunday we will come back here to have our desires purified as we give God what He deserves: our worship and attention.  Each Sunday we will admit that our desires have not always been for God and the kingdom of heaven, and we will receive strength from the worthy reception of the Body and Blood of Jesus.  You don’t have to catch a leprechaun.  You don’t have to find a magic lamp.  You don’t even have to wait until 11:11 p.m.  Just come back each Sunday, and together, in our worship of God, we will put our desires back in the right order, and move closer to the kingdom of heaven.