Seeing with God's Vision

Fourth Sunday of Lent–Second Scrutiny 

In 2009 I was driving back from St. John parish in Fenton, where I was assigned as a deacon, to Sacred Heart Major Seminary in Detroit.  It was a Fall night, and it was raining fairly steadily.  I pulled onto M-10, what most Michiganders who are familiar with Detroit call the Lodge.  I was driving 60 mph, which was still slower than 99% of the traffic, which was going at least 65 mph in the 55 mph zone, but I was having a hard time seeing the stripes that divided one lane from another.  I made it home safely, but I knew something was wrong with my eyes.

I didn’t have vision insurance, though, so I was nervous about how much getting my eyes checked was going to cost.  My optometrist was very kind, and gave me a great deal on the eye exam.  During that exam, she put the big machine in front of my eyes to read the chart with the letters on it.  As she started to change the lenses, I realized how poor my vision had been.  My vision is not horrible (I’m near sighted), but as soon as she put my prescription up on that machine, everything was much clearer.

We need an occasional eye exam for our souls.  The eyes of our souls can sometimes lose their original power, and sometimes we need the lenses of Jesus so that we can see clearly.  Otherwise our eyes get worse, and might even become blind.  This Gospel that we heard today, along with the first reading especially, reminds us that we do not always see as God sees.  What Samuel saw as the winner was not God’s choice for the king of Israel.  What the disciples saw as the result of sin was what Jesus said would bring glory to God, and was not due to a moral issue in the man born blind.  In both of those readings, God gave an eye exam, and helped Samuel and the disciples realize how their vision was off.

What do we see when we see a person walking down the street with dirty clothes, maybe with bags full of cans, digging through trash, or asking for some money?  Do we see a beggar, maybe someone who has mental illness issues, a druggie, a drunk, or do we see Jesus?  If we do not see Jesus, then we do not have 20/20 spiritual vision.  Yes, that person might have a mental illness.  Yes, that person might be a drunk or addicted to heroin.  But that is still a person, made in the image and likeness of God, a beloved child of God, one of the least of the brothers of Jesus, with whom Jesus associates.

I come from a pretty sheltered life.  My family was never rich, but we never wanted for anything.  We didn’t have extravagant vacations every year, but we got to enjoy the State Parks of Michigan, and occasionally did take a trip down to Florida.  It is sometimes a challenge for me to put myself in the shoes of those who have nothing and who struggle each day.  I have to strain to see Jesus, and many times I have missed Him in the people I see.  One of the great blessings of being a chaplain for Adrian Fire Department, and working with Adrian Police Department and the Lenawee County Sheriff’s Department is the presence I can give to those who work to protect our city and county.  But another blessing is that I have more opportunities to see Jesus in the people to whom we respond, many of whom I would never see or encounter.  

Samuel chose, by God’s grace, a king for Israel in the first reading.  Tuesday, as residents of the State of Michigan, we have the opportunity to help shape our election in November for President of the United States.  It’s not my job, and I won’t do so, to tell you for whom to vote.  The Catholic Church does not endorse a particular party or a particular candidate.  We will work with anyone, as we have for 2,000 years.  But I do want to challenge all of us about whether or not we are voting (which is very important and a civic and moral duty) with the eyes of God.  When we look at our favorite candidate, do we see them with the eyes of God?  I doubt God has a favorite candidate, and I’m sure He’s not endorsing anyone.  But do we examine each person, each a child of God and made in His image, in the light of divine revelation, so that we choose a person who protects all human life, in the womb, on the streets, in the nursing home; who does not spread fear and hatred of different classes of people, ethnicities, jobs; who respects and welcomes people of all faiths, but acts in accordance with the truth, even when unpopular; who works against discrimination of people with homosexual attractions but also understands that marriage, according to faith and reason, can only be between one man and one woman; who will build up the country in unity, rather than dividing us into different camps?

The way we see things determines how we interact with the world.  How are our eyes?  Do we see with the vision of God?

You Can't Cheat God

Twenty-Second Sunday in Ordinary Time

Sometimes it is made very clear to me what I should preach.  This past Monday, when I looked over the readings, I was immediately drawn to the Gospel where Jesus talks about how the practice of washing hands is not about what happens outside the person, but what happens inside the person.  It struck me that the Pharisees went through the ritual motions of religious life, without letting those actions take root in their soul.  As Jesus says, it is not what is outside the makes one unclean (that is, unfit for worship in the Temple) but what comes from the heart: all our passions that we give in to.

But, as I sat down to write my homily out on Thursday, I found myself drawn to a similar topic, but going in a different direction (how symbols are supposed to be sensible things that communicate an invisible reality).  I had my hook.  I was going to talk about how we misunderstand words, like when English speakers make the mistake of thinking that the word for embarrassed in Spanish, embarazado is a cognate–a similar sounding word–when it really means pregnant, leading to numerous embarrassing moments when a man says, Yo soy embarazado.  I had my main point, how symbols are meant to communicate the invisible through what we can receive through our senses, and how what we do in religious symbols should reflect what is truly going on inside our hearts and souls.  And I managed to talk about all of this and expand on the main topic in the usual Fr. Anthony homily duration (I’ve been told I preach a bit longer than our deacons).

But then Friday I stopped by the Adrian Police Department.  Some of you know that I have been doing ride-alongs with the Police and I have offered to provide any help to the officers that I can.  I went to talk to Clay, who often works the front desk.  I stopped by at about 4:10, and he wasn’t there, but when I asked I was told he was just getting ready to leave.  I waited a little, and then Clay came out and we had a nice little talk.  In the midst of that talk, he said that he didn’t understand two things about Catholics (he’s not Catholic, but is Christian).  The first difficulty we spoke about were the saints and praying to them.  That might be a homily for a different day.

The second thing we talked about took me back to what I first thought I was going to preach on, and caused me to totally rewrite my homily on Saturday morning, between altar server training and confessions.  He asked me about the experience he’s had of Catholics who say they can do whatever sinful thing they want Monday through Friday, then they go to confession on Saturday and Mass on Sunday with a clean slate, and then get back to serious sinning on the weekdays; rinse and repeat.  Clay said that it makes no sense.

Clay is right.  And I explained to him that we can’t cheat God.  Yes, we have the Sacrament of Penance to cleanse us of sin, the Sacrament established by Jesus in Matthew 16 and John 20 when He gave the Apostles the authority to forgive sins.  But I also told Clay that the Church teaches that, for the Sacrament of Penance to be valid, the penitent (the confessee, as it were), has to be truly sorry for his sins and has to make a firm amendment to not commit those sins in the future.  Certainly we sometimes fall into the same sins week after week that we don’t want to.  But if we’re not truly sorry for what we did Monday through Friday, and we fully plan on doing the same thing again the next Monday through Friday, then our sins are not forgiven.  We can’t cheat God. 

And that’s precisely what our Gospel is about.  Jesus did not condemn ritual purification and ritual actions.  But He taught us that the ritual is meant to have an effect in our lives, not to be a meaningless gesture.  Washing hands without washing souls means little in our relationship with God.  And sometimes doing the rituals without the meaning behind it becomes a scandal, an obstacle to other people believing in the Catholic faith.  I’m sure Clay is not the only Christian who thinks that the way some Catholics treat the Sacrament of Penance betrays the fact that these Catholics think that the Sacraments are magic.  They’re not magic.  They are meant to convert us, to change us, to become more like God.  If we’re not open to having God change us, God will not force His grace–His life, His love, His peace–on us.  We can go through the motions, but we won’t receive the effects that those actions are meant to have in our souls. 

Jesus gave us the Good News to help us draw closer to God.  The Good News He teaches us today is that while we can struggle with the same sins each week and be truly sorry, if we are trying to treat the religious rituals like a get out of Hell free card, we’re in for a not-so-pleasant surprise.  This is Good News because it gives us a chance to truly have a change of heart, a metanoia, a conversion, and ask God to purify us from the things that really make us unfit for the Temple.  God wants to truly cleanse us of those things and wash, not our hands, but our hearts.  Will we allow God to wash our souls with His cleansing grace?