Living and Dying

Thirteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
    As the connection to Christianity dips, many people have developed very weird habits in connection to death.  People don’t want to have funerals any more, or if they do, they have the bare minimum.  Many choose to have a “celebration of life,” (which, by the way, is not what a funeral is) where you simply remember the good qualities of the person, rather than praying for the person.  Or sometimes people will scatter ashes in a person’s favorite nature place (which, for the record, the Church does not allow; not to mention you better hope you judge the direction of the wind as your pouring ashes out of an urn).  Or sometimes people will make jewelry that has little amounts of ashes in a locket that a person wears (the Church also does not allow this).  Or, some people just forgo burial altogether, and leave the urn on the mantle (which is also not allowed by the Church; and, which, if you have seen the movie “Meet the Parents,” can turn out quite poorly, especially if you have a cat).
    I connect the newer, weirder practices that surround death with the waning of Christianity, and Catholicism in particular, because as Catholics, we should live without fear of death or need to create our own new rituals with death.  Why?  Because we’re already dead!  No, this isn’t a weird way in which the TV series “LOST” depicts reality.  But through Holy Baptism, we already died.  We had to, if we wanted to live.  It is Christ’s death that allows us to have life, and we have to join in that death, albeit sacramentally, in order to join in His Resurrection.  That was the point of the epistle today from St. Paul’s letter to the Romans.  In baptism we died with Christ so that we could live in newness of life.  And some religious orders demonstrate this during vows, where one is covered with a death pall and lies prostrate on the floor, signifying that they’re old life is dead.  
    But this death, whether of monks and nuns or those in another vocation, isn’t a death of our biological life, but a death to our life of sin and separation from God.  And the new life that we receive is not like an extra life from a video game, but a new way of life in which we strive for holiness and union with God.  Our new life consists in choosing that which is truly life, that which is connected to God, and rejecting that which is truly death (sin), that which separates us from God who is the source of all life.

St. Pier Giorgio Frassati

    Ironically, it is those who die to sin who are the most alive.  Look at the saints: they live the most invigorating lives!  Those who go from sin to sin exist, but don’t have anything that exciting.  Those who persist in mortal sin are like zombies who still walk around, but they are dead.  The quote from now-Saint Pier Giorgio Frassati comes to mind: “To live without a faith, without a patrimony to defend, without a steady struggle for Truth, that is not living but existing.”  He also said, “Vivere, e non vivacchiare” which means “to live, and not just to get by.”    But when we do not live according to our baptism; when we decide that we choose our own will over God’s; when we go from sin to sin, we just get by.
    Life without the Lord is like “The Wizard of Oz” at the beginning in Kansas (with no offense intended to the State of Kansas).  It’s black and white (figuratively, not literally).  It’s simply getting by on a farm.  It’s not living life to the fullest.  But after baptism, and as one follows Christ, life is like Oz: colorful, exuberant, and overflowing goodness; song, dance, and joy.  What’s odd is that we often feel like black and white is better than color, and death is better than life.
    Sin is like the feeling when you’ve eaten way too much food on Thanksgiving (or maybe on other days of the year, as well): you feel sluggish, lethargic, not really excited about anything.  Life in Christ is like when you’ve enjoyed a good meal in moderation, which then gives you energy to go for a walk, run, or bike ride, or play a game outside.  You have what you need, which then gives you the energy to enjoy life even more.
    So how do we live and not simply get by?  We die.  We die to those things that we know do not give us true happiness.  We crucify in ourselves the anger that flares up at someone who has harmed us; the need (or rather, illusion) to be in control of everything; the greed to take all for ourselves and not share with others; the laziness that tells us not to go to Mass or to prioritize fleeting pleasure over sacrificing for the good.  
    Catholics who live the Letter of St. Paul to the Romans seriously aren’t afraid of death.  Because they’ve already been through it, albeit sacramentally.  If they’re following Christ, then death doesn’t matter all that much, because what comes after death for one who follows Christ is an even fuller life than what we can live here on earth by God’s grace and under God’s rule.  We don’t hasten our death, but we don’t fear it, either.  They don’t make weird rituals for death because death is not all that important to one who has already died.  You are already dead, and are leaning into the new life of heaven by the choices you make (or, perhaps, leaning into the eternal death of Hell by the choices you make).  Life the new life of Christ where death has no more power or sting.  “Think of yourselves as dead to sin and living for God in Christ Jesus."   

A Better-Than-Anticipated Gift

Eighteenth Sunday after Pentecost

    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  There are numerous movies where the protagonist goes out searching for one thing, only to find something different, and usually more fulfilling.  One movie that comes to mind is “The Wizard of Oz.”  Dorothy, having found herself trapped in Oz, as colorful as it is, seeks the Wizard of Oz to send her back home to her family in Kansas.  But, spoiler alert, after the Wizard goofs up and flies away in a hot air balloon, seemingly trapping her in Oz, in the end she finds out that she’s always had the power to return to Kansas in herself, and that home is where she really desires to be (even if that home is in black and white).
    In today’s Gospel, a sick man is brought to the Lord, and while the people who brought the man to Christ presumed that a physical healing would take place, the Savior tells the man that his sins are forgiven.  Everyone is shocked, for one reason or another.  The man was probably shocked, because he was hoping to be healed.  The pharisees were shocked because the Lord was claiming for Himself powers that properly belonged to God.  And they weren’t wrong that only God can forgive sins.  But our Lord was demonstrating His divinity and His unity with the Father.  And as proof of His divinity, beyond forgiving the man’s sins, the Savior also heals the man.

Frodo, Gollum, and Samwise

    I can imagine that, as I mentioned, our Lord surprised the man by saying his sins were forgiven.  If I go to Texas Roadhouse and ask for a bone-in ribeye, and then bring out a slice of deli roast beef, I’m going to be surprised.  It’s like Samwise Gamgee receiving a rope from Galadriel, while Perrin and Merry get elven daggers.  Samwise says, “Have you run out of those nice, shiny daggers?”
    But, in fact, the gift that our Lord gave was much better than what was asked, though it likely didn’t seem that way at the time.  Going back to the Texas Roadhouse analogy, what happened in the Gospel is more like me asking for a New York strip, and getting the finest cut of filet mignon, that is so tender it barely requires a butter knife to cut.
    But we can all too often miss the gifts that the Lord wants to give us because we want something else.  Still, the gifts that the Lord wants to give us far outweigh the physical treasures that our minds often think would be better.  The sick man did receive a physical healing, but eventually his body would break down, as all bodies do, and become dust after death.  But the gift of forgiveness of sins allowed the man to enter heaven and enjoy enteral happiness in a life that knows no end.
    God does still heal people physically today.  And those are amazing and can help increase our faith.  But all too often He wants to achieve a spiritual end that will have a much longer lasting effect.  He wants to heal our soul, not just heal our body.  The Sacrament of Anointing of the Sick, which used to be called Extreme Unction, or Last Anointing, demonstrates this.  The purpose of the sacrament is to grant spiritual healing to one who is both seriously ill and spiritually troubled.  Serious illness can often give us anxiety, or increase doubts in our hearts about the care and providence of God.  But God doesn’t want anything to stand in the way of our relationship to Him, and so, through that sacrament, grants us a spiritual healing, both to comfort our fears but also to forgive venial sins (if we are conscious) and even mortal sins (if we are unconscious and do not have the opportunity to confess).  A secondary effect of the sacrament can be physical healing, but that is not the primary effect of the sacrament.
    Still, what do we tend to focus on more?  We wonder, ‘did I get physically healed?’  Praise God when that does happen, but eventually physical healings will come to an end.  To paraphrase Christ: what does it profit a man to regain his health but lose his soul?
    To understand the gifts that the Lord wants to give to us, we need conversion of heart.  If we are not configured to the mind of Christ, all we will think of is whether our body got healed and what sort of physical or visible miracle took place.  As we put on the mind of Christ and think of the things that are above, we recognize how God’s invisible grace can transform our souls and help us be more like Him and be more prepared for heaven, which is the goal of every human life.  To return to the image of “The Wizard of Oz,” we often prefer the color of Oz, even though we’re lost, we’re not near our loved ones, and there are witches trying to kill us, to the black and white of home where we are loved, we are familiar, and others will protect us.  
    God desires every good gift for us.  God wants to give us what we truly need, even when our attention is drawn to other things that do not last as long and are not as powerful.  May our worthy reception of Holy Communion help us to see the world with the eyes of God, and recognize the great miracles He works in our life every time He forgives our sins, or helps us avoid temptations, or reminds us of His love and protection.  May we better appreciate the miracles God wants to work in our lives, even when they are not flashy or what we expect.  In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.