Choosing Life Instead of Death

 Seventh Sunday after Pentecost
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  The colloquial definition of insanity is doing the same thing but expecting different results.  How often we can be insane, at least according to that definition!  It’s like the old gag where a man goes to the doctor and says, “It hurts when I raise my arm,” so the doctor replies, “Then don’t raise your arm!”  Sometimes the simplest things in theory, are the most complex in practice.

    St. Paul reminds us today that the wages of sin is death.  When we sin, we are inviting death into our life.  We might say that we are cutting out life from our existence.  Sin is slavery: shackling ourselves into bondage.  No one forces us to sin; we have the freedom to choose good from evil.  But how often do we choose evil?!
    And then, having chosen death, having chosen to sin, we wonder why we reap death.  Again, our Lord reminds us that if we sow death, we will reap death.  If we sow slavery, we will reap slavery.  We know the tree by the fruits it produces.  But we still go back to the tree that brings us death and weakens our relationship with God, or even separates us from God.  
    Of course, we think that we can get away with it, or that the consequences won’t effect us.  We think we can outsmart sin and death, or be so tricky that we can enjoy the sin but not suffer the consequences.  
    But no one explicitly thinks this way when he or she sins.  We don’t use our brains, we use our passions, and so we often don’t consciously think: this action is not good; it is not leading me to God.  If I do this, I’m inviting death and slavery into my life.  Or we may think that it’s not a big sin, so we don’t need to really worry about it.  So we flirt with little sins, not realizing that they can, if left alone, lead to bigger sins.
    But it doesn’t have to be this way.  Our Lord came precisely to transfer us from the kingdom of death and slavery to the kingdom of life and freedom.  He ransomed us with His own Precious Blood, and paid the price of our freedom by dying on the cross.  God wants freedom for our life.  He wants us to live.  And He offers us every opportunity for freedom and life.  But we keep sliding back into slavery and death.
    The antidote to this sliding is the fear of the Lord.  Our Gradual today, from Psalm 33, begins, “Come, children, and hear me; I will teach you the fear of the Lord.”  The fear of the Lord is not about being scared or afraid.  Fear of the Lord is about recognizing the pain sin causes God, not because He is weak, but because He mourns when we draw farther away from Him.  Think of this fear like the fear you would have of disappointing your spouse or a parent.  Sometimes the worst thing we can hear is, “I’m not mad, I’m disappointed.”  When we love someone, we want to show that love to them, and we don’t want them to not feel that love.  The scriptures often use the image of adultery, marital infidelity, to describe sin.  The action is bad enough, and we know it’s wrong, but the pain that comes from realizing we let our beloved or our Father down is sometimes worse than any corporal punishment that could be inflicted upon us.
    So, to avoid sin, especially grave sin, we need to keep that desire not to hurt our beloved, God, at the front of our mind.  When our mind is fixed on God and showing Him our love by what we do (and what we don’t do), then we’re less likely to give in to those sins that demonstrate that we don’t fully love God, that something else is more important than Him.  Would that we always kept the post-sin sadness in our minds before we fell into sin, so that we wouldn’t have the pain that comes from disappointing our beloved, our God.
    Our life in Christ is not so much about doing the right things and not doing the wrong things (though we should do the right and avoid the wrong).  We can live at that surface level of our faith, where we just do this and don’t do that because the Scriptures or the Church tell us so.  But God invites us to let our roots grow deeper so that we can bear better fruit.  He invites us to consider His commands as the way that we can return the love that He first showed us when our Lord died on the cross.  How often we go to our Divine Physician and say, “It hurts when I sin!”  He tells us, “Then don’t sin!”  Keep at the front of your mind your love for God, that love that makes sin seem less appealing, and by keeping that love before you, avoid the death that sin always brings, the death and sin that were conquered by Christ, who with the Father and the Holy Spirit reign for ever and ever.  Amen. 

Confidence of a Quarterback

 Thirty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time
    When reading this Scripture for this weekend’s Mass, my mind went back to a high school football game some years ago, back when I was a priest in East Lansing.  I stood on the sidelines with the Lansing Catholic varsity team.  As I recall, we were winning, but it was a somewhat close game.  Cooper Rush, our quarterback, went back to pass to our wide receiver, Matt Macksood.  The pass was thrown to the back corner of the end zone.  Matt caught the ball, but there was some question as to whether or not the pass was completed inbounds.  The two officials who were closest were looking back and forth at each other, waiting for the other to make the call.  I had been watching the play intently, including Matt’s feet, making sure that at least one foot made contact with the end zone before he stepped out, and knew that it was good.  So I threw up my arms in the signal for a touchdown.  The two officials looked at me (I’m sure they noticed I was a priest) saw my arms held up, and then both signaled that it was a good catch and a touchdown.  After all, priests don’t lie, so I could be trusted to make the right call, right?!?
    Cooper threw the ball where only Matt could catch it.  It was going to be close, but Cooper had confidence that Matt would do everything he could to secure the pass in bounds and keep Lansing Catholic on the road to victory.  That’s the sort of confidence that a quarterback and a wide receiver have to have in each other, even if that confidence is not always rewarded with completions.
    This morning we heard the all-too-familiar Gospel passage of the talents.  This is often where the priest or deacon will preach on using our gifts and talents that God has given us well, not burying them.  Or maybe he will talk about stewardship and its importance in our personal and faith lives.  And those are both good topics for homilies.  But this morning I want to focus on the attitude of the servants who were entrusted with the talents to their master.
    The first two servants had confidence in their relationship with their master.  How do I know this?  They were willing to take a risk in order to make the master happy.  Any risk means that things could go horribly wrong.  When you try to invest money, there’s always a risk that you won’t make money, but lose money (just ask my portfolio, especially between March and June).  But they had confidence in their relationship with the master and knew that he wanted a return on his investment in them, which was worth the risk of losing it all.
    The third servant, though, also knew that the master wanted a return, but was afraid of losing money for the master, so he buried his talent.  His relationship with the master was one of fear.  And that fear even blinded him to the possibility of putting the money in the bank to get some interest.  He was not confident in his relationship with his master.
    What is our approach to God?  Are we confident in our relationship with Him?  Or do we live in fear?  We can talk about the fear of the Lord (in fact we heard in our psalm response, “Blessed are those who fear the Lord”), which is a gift of the Holy Spirit, but that fear is not servile fear, but respect for that fact that God is God and we are not His equals.  But at the same time, we are beloved sons and daughters in the Son of God.  We are not slaves, but friends of God.  And that friendship with God should give us a certain confidence.  We shouldn’t have arrogance (that’s when we lack the proper fear of the Lord), but confidence in God’s love for us, which allows us to take risk so that we can please the Lord and spread His love and truth.  It’s as J.R.R. Tolkien wrote in The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring: “It’s a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door.  You step onto the road, and if you don’t keep your feet, there’s no knowing where you might be swept off to.”  Confidence allows us to go places we might never imagine.
    That sort of courage to spread the Gospel only comes when we have confidence in our relationship with God.  It does mean that we are willing to take a chance in order to deepen our relationship with God and share it with others.  Sometimes it takes us places where we don’t expect.  It took me to Adrian, a small town on the way to nowhere, but where I fell deeply in love with the people and the community there.  It took me here to Flint.  Before I came here, I’ll be honest that Flint was probably not on my list of places to live.  But I love being here, I love you, my parishioners, and I love serving to try to make Flint better.  I had confidence that God wouldn’t take me anywhere where He couldn’t do some good, and I try to continue to respond to His will as best as I know it and as best as I can.  
    How is your relationship with God?  Do you fear God as a slave?  Or do you have confidence in what God can do with you, and will be pleased with the risks you take to serve Him in love?  Trust in Him; have confidence in His love for you; and you’ll do better than scoring a touchdown.