Caring for Lazarus

Twenty-sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time

    When it comes to funny quotes in a musical, “Fiddler on the Roof” definitely has its fair share: “Rabbi, is there a blessing for the czar?”  “May God bless and keep the czar…far away from us!”; “As Abraham said, ‘I am a stranger in a strange land…’”  “Moses said that.”  “Ah.  Well, as King David said, ‘I am slow of speech, and slow of tongue.’”  “That was also Moses.”  “For a man who was slow of tongue, he talked a lot.”  And, one that is apropos for the readings today: “I realize, of course, that it’s no shame to be poor, but it’s no great honor either.”
    God reminds us today, both through the Prophet Amos and through the Son of God, Jesus Christ, that we have a responsibility to care for the poor.  That might make us a little uncomfortable, as we have a lot of poor people here in Flint, and caring for them requires a certain amount of resources.  Pope St. Paul VI, in his homily for the canonization of St. Juan Macias, a Dominican friar, said, “When we say that Juan Macias was poor, we do not mean the kind of poverty that can never be sought or blessed by God: the poverty which is culpable or due to passive inertia with regard to earning a legitimate sufficiency.”  So there is a type of poverty that is, we might say, vicious, because it stems from laziness.
    But, there also exists a poverty which does not come from natural sloth, but comes from an inability to care for oneself, as Lazarus in the Gospel was unable to do.  His sores meant that he had to keep away from most people, which certainly meant he could not earn a living.  Jesus says that he should have been a reminder to the rich man at whose door he rested.  But the rich man ignored Lazarus.  Even the dogs cared for Lazarus more than the rich man, as the dogs licked the sores to try to clean them.  
    This type of poverty we have a responsibility to alleviate according to our means.  Why?  Because God has a special love for those who cannot care for themselves.  In Old Testament times, this meant the poor, widows, and orphans, who had no means of familial support but had to rely on the generosity of strangers.  In our times, when we have many agencies that care for the poor, be they religious groups or government offices, which can make us think that we don’t have to do anything any more.  I think of the exchange between Ebeneezer Scrooge and two men collecting money for the poor:
 

“At this festive season of the year, Mr. Scrooge…it is more than usually desirable that we should make some slight provision for the Poor and destitute, who suffer greatly at the present time…”
“Are there no prisons?” asked Scrooge.
“Plenty of prisons,” said the gentleman…
“And the Union workhouses?” demanded Scrooge.  “Are they still in operation?”
“They are.  Still,” returned the gentleman, “I wish I could say they were not.”
“The Treadmill and the Poor Law are in full vigour, then?” said Scrooge.
“Both very busy, sir.”
[Scrooge said,] “I help to support the establishments I have mentioned: they cost enough: and those who are badly off must go there.”
“Many can’t go there; and many would rather die.”
“If they would rather die,” said Scrooge, “they had better do it, and decrease the surplus population.”

Scrooge supported with his taxes prisons for the poor and workhouses for the poor, which often had deplorable conditions themselves, but in the end, felt that the poor should rather die and not burden society so much.  How much of Scrooge still remains in our heart?
    God calls us to care for the poor because through our care, people learn about the loving concern of our heavenly Father.  Those who are not able to work, whether because of a physical limitation, and all too often these days mental handicaps, are still children of our heavenly Father and human beings worthy of respect.  Do our actions, the way we treat people who are poor, demonstrate respect or something other treatment?  
    This is why we annually provide toys for Christmas for low-income families; food for people, especially at St. Mary Oratory on the east side of Flint; the work with the North End Soup Kitchen; and Hope in a Box for Catholic Charities: when we work together, we can do more to help them poor than we could by ourselves.  But we try to offer opportunities so that we can live up to our call to care for the poor and imitate our heavenly Father.  
    Certainly, it can be hard to discern who truly needs assistance, and who tries to scam people.  Those who are poor from laziness, or those who try to get money pretending to be poor, certainly have a harsh judgement awaiting them, as it not only affects their own person, but makes many people question assistance to the poor.
    But there is also spiritual poverty, which is no less prevalent and no less problematic.  St. Teresa of Calcutta once said, “The poverty in the West is a different kind of poverty–it is not only a poverty of loneliness but also of spirituality.  There’s a hunger for love, as there is a hunger for God.”  You can have a full belly and warm clothes and a house in which to sleep, but if you do not have God, you are still poor, because you lack the treasure buried in the field and the pearl of great price: a loving friendship with God which makes all of life worth living. 
    [Cameron today you have been accepted into Order of Catechumens.  You have acknowledged your spiritual poverty and God wants to make you rich.  No, you may not increase in financial stability, but God will pour out all His graces that you need to go to heaven, where no one lacks for any good things.  Like all of us baptized, it is only when we recognize our poverty, our need for God, that God fills us with His grace and love.  You have cried out to God in your poverty, God has heard you, and God is preparing to give you the best inheritance you could imagine: eternal life in heaven after a life of following Him on earth.  When you have God, even if you have nothing, you have it all.  When you don’t have God, even if you own everything the world can give you, you have nothing.]
    May all of us, then, continue to work to provide for the poor, whether financial or spiritual poverty.  May we do so, not begrudgingly, not as a “requirement” that we have to check off, but as an expression of love for our brothers and sisters who lack sufficient resources, be they food, clothing, or the knowledge and love of God.  May we not live like the rich, who ignored Lazarus right in front of him, but see each person as a child of God, worthy of dignity, respect, and whatever assistance we can give, even if that is simply prayer. 

Being A Good Steward (Precept #5)

 Eighth Sunday after Pentecost
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  As we pass through these Sundays after Pentecost, I thought it would be good to focus on some thematic preaching.  I still want to tie it to the readings, in some way, maybe only loosely, but still seeing how our faith and the Word of God are intertwined.  So, I’ve decided, for the next weeks, to concentrate on the Precepts of the Church.
    There are five precepts, which are described as “positive laws decreed by the pastoral authorities…meant to guarantee to the faithful the very necessary minimum in the spirit of prayer and moral effort, int he growth in love of God and neighbor.”  So these are not all there is to being Catholic, but we could call them the basic rules and expectations of membership in the institutional Church.  The five (as found in the Catechism, paragraphs 2041-2043) are:

You shall attend Mass on Sundays and on holy days of obligation and rest from servile labor;
You shall confess your sins at least once a year
You shall receive the sacrament of the Eucharist at least during the Easter season;
You shall observe the days of fasting and abstinence established by the Church
You shall help to provide for the needs of the Church
 

Again, there are other necessary aspects of being Catholic (belief in the revealed dogmas of faith and living revealed moral teachings, respect and obedience to legitimate ecclesiastical authority, daily prayer, etc.), but these give us a base line.  Today, based upon our Gospel, I would like to focus on the last precept: you shall help to provide for the needs of the Church.

    Today's Gospel focuses on stewardship.  Our Lord tells a parable about a dishonest steward, who then makes side deals with the debtors, hoping that one of them will take him in after he’s fired, since he’s not able to do hard labor, and too ashamed to beg.  The fifth precept tells us that we are to provide for the needs of the Church, including, it goes on to say, the material needs of the Church, “each according to his abilities.”  
    We probably naturally go to money when we think of the needs of the Church and possibly even the word stewardship.  Priests are either very hesitant or very quick to talk about money.  One layman joked that when a priest talks about money it can be called the Sermon on the Amount.  Personally, I try to avoid talking about money unless I need to.  But this one time probably won’t hurt too much (for you or for me).
    Because, honestly, the people of St. Matthew are very generous.  And I greatly appreciate your generosity.  I believe that people give what they can, according to their financial realities.  As St. Paul says, he does not want us to make ourselves poor in assisting others, but that each could have enough, based on their own situations.  Some give weekly, others give monthly; some give cash or checks, others donate online with a credit card.  We recently have been the beneficiary or a large bequest, which is helping to make our office renovation a reality, so some even remember St. Matthew after death.  But, I’ll admit, it took me a while as a young man to consider giving to the church.  In high school, even though I was working a summer maintenance job for my parish, I’m pretty sure I didn’t give anything.  I didn’t make much, and that continued as a seminarian, and so I didn’t give much or anything.  But, after I was ordained, I made a commitment to give at least 5% of my income to the Church (whether the parish or the Diocese or even the universal Church), which would then leave me to donate up to 5% to other organizations.  And I think I’ve been pretty faithful to that.  But I don’t remember being approached by anyone as a young man, to remember to give.  So, for all you young adults, whether living with your parents or living on your own, here’s my plug: consider giving to the parish.  Maybe it’s only a buck or two every week, but you’ll be part of supporting our great parish.  
    Why give?  Because a steward is one who recognizes that what he has is not his.  A steward uses the goods of the master, with the master’s authority.  But they don’t, strictly speaking, belong to the steward.  When it comes to us, everything we have, whether directly or indirectly, comes from God.  The talents we use to get a good job come from God.  The talents of entrepreneurs who form companies that then hire us come from God.  Everything eventually gets traced back to God.  And so, as part of the virtue of justice, we give back to God some of what He has given to us.
    But I know that many of you are blessed with large families, and so don’t have a lot of money, even to give to the church.  And that is why it’s important to note that stewardship is not only about money.  It’s also about time and talent.  
    I have been so impressed by the donation of time and talent of parishioners here!  We have groups that help clean the church, ushers who collect our paper hand missals, gardeners who help care for the flowers, catechists who help form children (sometimes their own) and adults in the faith, those who donate food for our potlucks, members of our Finance Council and Pastoral Council who help guide the future of the parish, sacristans, servers, cantors, and the list goes on and on (I do not mean to leave you out, so please don’t take offense if I did not explicitly mention your group or activity).  People giving their time and talent to the parish are also a great sign of health and vitality.  And it gives a way for all people, those with large incomes and those who struggle to make ends meet each week, a way to build up the Mystical Body of Christ.
    And that is the real point of stewardship: that we do what we can to serve Christ.  I’m not the judge of your stewardship: that belongs to the Lord, who sees not only the external gifts, but also the internal gifts, and judges justly.  But we can never rest on our laurels when it comes to being good stewards.  Each June I re-evaluate how I am being a good steward of what God gave me, just as each Lent I re-evaluate my beneficiaries for what I will leave behind.  It’s a good thing not to view our stewardship with the perspective of fear, but in the freedom of being poor in spirit, relying on God for what we need and doing what we can to help others who are in need, to be, as St. Theresa of Avila says, the hands of God.  

    Thank you for your generosity of time, talent, and treasure, which helps St. Matthew continue to be a lamp in the city of Flint, radiating the truth and love of Christ to a city which desperately needs it.  Let’s re-evaluate what we can do, so that we can be even better stewards of all that our generous God has entrusted to us, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  Amen. 

What Makes Us Catholic

 Eighth Sunday after Pentecost
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  Due to my retreat I had tried to get ahead of the game and write my homily before I left, which I successfully did.  And then Friday the sixteenth happened.  So, back to the drawing board.
    This past Friday morning, as I was finishing up our usual Friday morning adoration, I received a text from a brother priest of mine in the Diocese who knows how to celebrate the Extraordinary Form, or whatever we’re going to call it from now on, about Traditionis custodes, the new Motu Proprio.  We spoke after the 8 a.m. Mass about the details and the law of the new document (this brother priest is also a canon lawyer).  I then called Bishop Boyea, only to be reminded by his secretary that he is on retreat this week with the bishops of Michigan and Ohio.  I then had time to read over the document myself.
    I have to admit that, even though I only started celebrating according to the Missal of St. John XXIII a couple of months ago, my heart ached at what looks like more restrictions (we’ll see what Bishop Boyea has to say when he gets back with me).  Even in this short time I have come to see the beauty and transcendence of this form of celebration.  I will say that I also think that a priest can celebrate according to the Missal of St. Paul VI beautifully and transcendently, in its own way.  We’ll have to see what future lies in store for us, though I neither want to freak you out with specious speculations, nor presume that everything will be exactly the same.
    But Pope Francis, who is our validly elected Supreme Pontiff, Vicar of Christ, and head of the Universal Church, also reminds us of important points about our Catholic faith, that I believe are worth speaking about here.

   The first is a general point about what makes us Catholic.  We are Catholics because we believe that Jesus founded His Church in a particular way, namely, upon apostolic foundations, with the successor of St. Peter as the Prince of the Apostles, and the visible sign of unity and head of the apostolic college.  Certainly I understand and sympathize (suffer with you) in feeling hurt by our Holy Father, and likely there are feelings of anger, betrayal, or others.  But to say that the pope is not the pope, or that we do not owe him religious submission of will and intellect because he has hurt us, because he has made decisions with which we do not agree, in a matter that is not de fide or part of the moral life of the Church, is not Catholic.  As your spiritual father I understand your pain, but also want to warn against a schismatic attitude that can separate you from the Body of Christ, which is the ordinary means of salvation.  We will continue to see what this new document means, but we have to do so with respect for Pope Francis, lest we endanger our immortal soul.  Does this mean that this legislation of his is the best or even simply right?  I think we can reasonably disagree in charity with this legislation.  But he is still our pope, allowed for us by Christ Himself.  And if St. Catherine of Siena can give that same respect to popes who were wrongly living in Avignon, we can give respect and pray for Pope Francis.  I certainly mention his name every time I pray the Roman Canon.  If you want to be in a parish that is schismatic, separated from visible unity with the Church, then this is not the parish for you.  We are Latin Rite, Roman Catholics, and too many martyrs died to uphold the papacy for us to reject it because of what we consider a hurtful and wrong piece of legislation.  I invite each of you to storm heaven with your prayers, and pray a Chaplet of Divine Mercy for Pope Francis.  
    Secondly, Vatican II.  The jokes about the Spirit of Vatican II being the scariest Halloween costume are funny because they contain a bit of truth.  Many people have taken Vatican II to mean a variety of things which the Council Fathers never intended nor desired.  I was born in 1983 (yes, I’m young), so I have only known a post-Vatican II world, and I have seen some of the negative effects of wrong implementation on the Church.  Many people saw Vatican II as a jettisoning of everything that had come before.  
    But Vatican II, especially in the Constitutions, and even in some of the documents which have less authority (e.g., decrees and declarations), was not a rejection of what came before, but a re-application of what came before.  Lumen gentium itself contains over 200 quotations and 92 references to Pope Pius XII.  As you look through Lumen gentium, the Dogmatic Constitution on the Church, there is a beautiful collection of citations from Sacred Scripture, St. Augustine and St. Thomas Aquinas, and the conciliar documents of Trent and Vatican I.  I didn’t have time to count them all, but the references to solid Catholic saints, previous holy popes, and previous councils, is impressive.  
    Further, Pope St. John XXIII, whose missal we use, declared it to be an ecumenical council, and it was confirmed and approved, in the ways ecumenical councils need to be, by Pope St. Paul VI.  So we cannot ignore Vatican II and its documents, without ignoring an ecumenical council called for and confirmed by the successor of St. Peter.  To do so would be to make the same mistake as Luther, Zwingli, Melanchthon, and other so-called reformers of rejecting what we don’t like and keeping what we do.  St. Augustine says this of the Gospel, but the same could be said for ecumenical councils, that if we accept what we like and reject what we don’t like, we do not have faith in God but in ourselves.  
    Further, while everyone likes to quote Lumen gentium, 16 which says that those who, “through no fault of their own do not know the Gospel of Christ or his Church, yet sincerely seek God and moved by grace, strive by their deeds to do his will as it is known through them through the dictates of conscience” can be saved, there is another quote, I would say that is even stronger, about the necessity of belonging to the Church.  Lumen gentium, 14 says, “Whosoever, therefore, knowing that the Catholic Church was made necessary by Christ, would refuse to enter or to remain in it, could not be saved.”  I think all here know that the Catholic Church is a necessary connection to Christ (inasmuch as our Lord Himself said that persecuting His followers was persecuting Him as He spoke to Saul on the road to Damascus).  In the same way, then, we must hold fast to the Church, even when the barque of Peter seems to be adrift and taking on water, or risk damnation, as Vatican II clearly teaches.  
    I know these are hard days.  I know that it seems like the Church may want to abandon us.  But, St. Paul tells us, that we are not called to fear, but to have courage.  And Jesus reminds us in the Gospel, to do whatever it takes to be saved, even if it means suffering greatly.  We can likely see ourselves in the boat in Mark 4 with the apostles, as the storm is pounding us, and the waves are breaking over the boat, so that it seems like it will capsize.  But our Lord is in the boat, and He will not let it sink.  Our duty, even in our pain, frustration, and betrayal, is to stay in the boat with Christ, hold fast to Him, and have faith that He will see us safely to the harbor of heaven, where God, the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, reign eternally, world without end.  Amen.

Right in front of our Face

Twenty-sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time

            Have you ever had a time when you really needed to get something done, or when you really wanted to get something, so much so that you miss a lot of the things that are right in front of you?  I know I have!  It’s so easy to become fixated on one thing or on a task to be done and to not be effected by anything else.  Sometimes it’s a positive: for example, most times when I’m celebrating Mass, I’m so focused that I don’t notice the babies screaming.  Many times parents come up to apologize for how loud they felt their child was, but it honestly didn’t bother me because I was focused on the celebration (and, for the record, screaming babies are a blessing to our church, because they remind us of new life, so don’t be giving dirty looks to parents who have screaming babies!!).  Sometimes it’s negative, like when we’re so focused on a task, we forget the people who are also involved.

            Perhaps the rich man from our Gospel today was such a person: determined, focused, wanting to get something done.  Maybe he was focused on nothing else but gaining more riches.  But what he missed was obvious: Lazarus, the poor man.  After all, Lazarus was at his doorstep, which means that every time the rich man left the house, he should have seen Lazarus.  And more than just seeing him, the rich man should have taken pity on him, and helped him out.  But he did not, and this neglect was to his own eternal peril.

            We’ve all heard this parable, probably countless times.  But who are the people who we don’t see because we’re so focused on something or someone else?  Who are the people that we step over, whether physically, emotionally, or spiritually, to get to our own goals?  The US Bishops have asked priests to talk a bit about the situation of immigrants in our country.  Now, let me preface this by saying that immigration policy is a complicated thing; if it weren’t we probably would have solved the problems already.  But what I can say with clarity is that we are obliged to treat immigrants with human dignity and respect, not step over them because they are nuisances.  When we think about how we think immigration should be handled, are we first and foremost thinking, “Is this they way I would treat Jesus?”  Because, especially the immigrants who come from Mexico, Central America, and Iraq, though not limited to them, are members of the household of faith!  Most of them are brother and sister Catholics!  And even those who are not still have human dignity and still are created in the image and likeness of God!

           

Our country has struggled with immigration for a long time because, while anyone who is not a Native American was an immigrant to these shores, after a few generations it can be hard to remember that.  On my mother’s side of the family, I only have to go back to my maternal grandmother to find a first generation American.  Many of us probably only have to go back 3 or 4 generations to find an immigrant in our family.  But we can forget that fact, and act like those, especially during the mid-nineteenth century from the Know Nothing party, or any of its variants, that wanted to make sure that the Catholics coming in droves, especially from Ireland and Germany, knew that they were not welcome here.  Again, the Church is not saying that we cannot have legal ways to enter the country, and penalties for doing so illegally, but as we form policy, as you write your Congressman and Senator, is your opinion formed by treating that person with the respect that comes simply from being a member of the human race?

            Even beyond the issue of immigration, the way we treat each other is part of the criteria upon which we will be judged.  The rich man suffers because he neglected Lazarus at his front door, while God noticed Lazarus, who suffered so greatly during his life, and rewarded him accordingly. 

And the best part of this whole story is the twist at the end.  The rich man begs Abraham to send Lazarus back from the dead to warn his brothers about what will happen if they neglect others.  Abraham tells them, “‘“They have Moses and the prophets.  Let them listen to them.” [The rich man] said, “Oh no, father Abraham, but if someone from the dead goes to them, they will repent.”  Then Abraham said, “If they will not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded if someone should rise from the dead.”’”  For nearly 1500 years, the Jews had been told about the importance of caring for the widow, orphan, and poor.  But somehow, according to the rich man, that wasn’t enough.  Of course, standing from our perspective, we can see the humor and irony in Jesus telling this story, that some will not believe even when a person rises from the dead.  But then it begs a very sober question for us: does Jesus rising from the dead compel us to act differently?  Does it open our eyes and broaden our horizons so that we are not fixated in a negative way on just the things we want, or the tasks we are trying to accomplish, but sees those in need around us?  And we don’t have to look to Africa, Asia, or South America to find those in need; they are right here in East Lansing.

Sometimes we need to be focused on one thing alone.  But let’s not make that our rule of life, so we ignore and neglect Lazarus sitting at our front door, and risk eternal suffering because we did not help relieve that suffering in others right in front of us.

Faith or Money?

Twenty-fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time

            My dad’s trade is business.  As long as I have known him, my dad has been running the financial operations of a company: first Friedland Industries, a recycling/scrap processing company in Lansing, and now the operations manager for St. Jude parish in DeWitt.  And yet, I would also say that my dad, like so many parents, is also a de facto teacher.  He never went to school to get a teaching certificate, but he’s taught me a lot about what he knows, especially finances.  Whether it was not buying Gushers because they were too expensive and too extravagant, or cutting out coupons for our regular grocery needs; or when I was getting ready to leave for college and he was teaching me the importance of building credit, and how to apply for and properly use a credit card; or when he would make sure that I didn’t spend more than I have, my dad taught me how to use money well.  And it has paid off for me when I lease a car, or when I’m deciding how I want to invest my money to save up for retirement (if I’m ever allowed to retire).

            Whether we like business or not, most of us are very particular about how we spend our money, especially if we are adults.  And we try to teach the next generation the same lesson.  I even found myself this summer, after I returned from school, talking to a Lansing Catholic alumnus about the importance of a credit card, as long as it is used responsibly.  We tend to treat money as a precious commodity, because without it we don’t have a roof over our head, clothes on our back, and food in our bellies. 

            In our Gospel today, Jesus invites us to treat our life in God with the same cunning as we treat our money.  He commends the dishonest steward for making sure that he was taken care of, even after he found out that he was being fired for squandering the master’s property.  This parable comes right on the heels on the parables we heard last week, and they’re in the context of Jesus speaking to the Scribes and Pharisees who were upset with Jesus spending so much time with sinners and tax collectors.

            And Jesus tells the Scribes and Pharisees that the sinners and tax collectors are to be commended, not because of what they have done in the past, but because of how they are changing their life when confronted with their sins.  They are honest enough to realize that their life is not godly, and so they decide they better take faith and religion quite seriously.  Just as the master in the parable was impressed by the dishonest steward making sure he was taken care of after his employment had ended, so Jesus was impressed, not by the sins of those who were following him, but by how seriously they were taking Jesus’ call to conversion, to turn away from sin and be faithful to Him.

            Our culture does not deal with sin very seriously.  How many times have we seen on TV, whether from a politician, or a rock star, or an athlete, “I am sorry if…” or “I apologize if…”?  That is not the message of someone who realizes the severity of the offense.  That’s someone who is not really concerned and just wants to get away with whatever was done.  That’s not the message of repentance.  That’s the message of excuse.

            If we are to be commended, then we have to face our sin head on, and make changes.  We have to truly turn away from our sin and give it the gravity it deserves, especially those grave sins which destroy our relationship with God and make us His enemies, rather than His beloved sons and daughters.  A lot of times people face their sins near the time of death.  When faced with mortality, and recognizing that a judgment is coming, people get very practical about how to make sure they’re not going to suffer.  But, as Jesus said so often, “Stay awake!  For you do not know the day nor the hour.”  We don’t know when our time to be judged will come upon us.  And, to quote Francis Cardinal George, “Jesus is merciful, but he is not stupid.”  

When faced with our sin, and this doesn’t only happen on our deathbed, what is our response?  Are we like the sinners and tax collectors of the Gospel who leave behind their past evils in order to follow Jesus?  Do we do all we can to make sure we are spiritually taken care of, just as the dishonest steward did all he could to make sure he was materially taken care of, or do we figure we’ve got time to keep living it up, and we can always repent later?  Do we treat our spiritual life as seriously as we treat our financial life?

If we do, then God is not just a three-letter word.  Our faith is not restricted to these walls.  It is something that changes the decisions we make.  It guides the way we vote.  It guides what we watch in the theater, on TV, and what we listen to.  It changes the way that we spend our time so that we are giving of our time and talents so that they’re not just used for our work to earn us money, but are used for the benefit of our Catholic family to show our acceptance of God’s grace and love.  It even changes the way we handle our finances: which charities we give to; how much we spend on niceties; how much we give to the Church.  We realize that, just because we don’t personally benefit from the Undergraduate Retreat, Alternative Spring Break, our Catholic schools, Senior Ministry; Youth Ministry; etc., does not mean that we do not volunteer our time or the things we do well, and even our money to these worthy causes. 

Jesus today confronts us with our sins, not to beat us up, but to give us the opportunity to make the changes so that we are taken care of spiritually in the life to come.  Make the change so that you will not be left outside of the gate, where there is wailing and gnashing of teeth, but will be welcomed to the wedding feast of the Lamb in the banquet hall of heaven.

Another Lazarus at Our Door

Twenty-sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time

            I don’t know about you, but for me, I find it difficult when a person comes up to me and says, “I’ve got good news and bad news; which do you want first?”  I’m guilty, myself, of using this phrase.  But I always hate hearing it.  And I’ll tell you why.  When someone comes up to me and says that, I’m always wondering which I should choose: should I choose the good news first and hope that it carries me through the bad news?  Or should I start with the bad news first and then get built up after I hear the good news?  And just how bad is the bad news and how good is the good news? 

            So, rather than saying, “I’ve got good news and bad news,” I want to start by commending this community for recognizing the poor in our community and reaching out to them.  By our Matthew 25 collection at the end of Mass, where we find those who are in dire need and assist in their plight, by our distribution of food, and many other activities, we are doing a good job at identifying the Lazarus who is poor and sitting right at our doorstep.  We should not be complacent, as Amos warns us, nor should we rest on our laurels.  Rather, we should continue to exercise generosity to those in need and practice the Corporal Works of Mercy to feed the hungry and give drink to the thirsty.

            But there is another Lazarus, lying at each of the doors of our lives, including my own, whom, I would guess, we ignore on a regular basis.  This Lazarus, too, is covered with sores.  And yet we ignore him.  This Lazarus is the fallen-away or “ex-Catholic.”

            At a recent prayer breakfast in Los Angeles, Archbishop Timothy Dolan, Archbishop of New York, and a personal hero of mine, stated that the largest Christian denomination in the United States today is “former Catholics.”  What’s the reason for this?  Why the great exodus out of the Church?  As Archbishop Dolan says, “we are now living in an era where people believe they can have Christ without his Church; people want a king without a kingdom; they want a shepherd with no flock; they want a spiritual family…with God as their Father and Jesus as their brother and them as the only child.  They want to believe without belonging; they want a general without an army; they want spirituality without religion; they want faith without the faithful.  They want Christ without His Church and for us as Catholics, no can do: Jesus and His Church are one.”

            Why do I bring this up?  Because this is the challenge that we face as those who remain: to bring the Gospel to those who were already baptized, but who live as if they are strangers to Jesus.  The “former Catholic” is the Lazarus of our day, and we so often ignore them.  Last year we had 1200 Catholic students registered here at St. Johns out of a MSU population of about 44,000. If every baptized Catholic on campus came here on Sunday, we’d need a Church bigger than St. Thomas!  I know that there are more Catholics out there who do not come to Church, do not receive the abundance of graces, spiritual support, and love that are available from being connected with the Church.  And just as they exist within my own family and friends, so I’m sure that your roommates, friends, family, and co-workers include those who have fallen away from the practice of their faith.

            But, in general, we tend not to say anything because “we don’t want to offend them;” or “they’re good people.”  Christ didn’t command the disciples to “Go and make disciples of all nations, unless they’re already good people.”  The greatest insult we can give people is to not share Jesus with them and bring them back to the fold.  If Christ is the greatest treasure in our life, then why don’t we want to share that message with others?!?  Why would we deprive people of the treasure of the Church to which they have a right, just as the poor have a right to our assistance?

            Of course, if we’re afraid that we’re going to offend them, then we do need to examine our message.  Are we trying to coax them back by assuring them that if they don’t, they’ll go to hell?  For some that might work, but for most it doesn’t.  We need to convincingly, lovingly invite others back to the practice of the faith of their baptism.  But to do that, we actually have to talk to them.  At Sparticipation, when we handed out flyers for St. Johns and encouraged others to come, there were many I talked to who, at first were going to pass us by.  But after an invitation from me, or from one of the students or staff working, they at least picked up information, and I am willing to bet that some of you here are here because someone welcomed you to practice your faith, to go to Mass, to be a part of this community. 

            To spread the Good News, we must know it ourselves.  And we try to offer many opportunities to grow in both love and knowledge of Jesus Christ and His Church through Fr. Joe’s Bible Study, Men’s and Women’s Groups, retreats, and many more ways.  We try to make sure that you are well equipped to invite others back to the Church, and to answer their concerns about the Church and Her teachings so that you can be evangelists: people who spread the Good News.  And, of course, if the Catholics you know all practice, then we can spread that Good News to those who are not connected to Christ through His One Church.  The mission never ends.

            Each of us knows at least one Lazarus, if not more, who is suffering on our doorsteps because they are not connected to Christ through His Church.  Their wounds of ignorance and sin are festering and need to be healed by Christ, the Divine Physician, through His sacramental graces.  Don’t ignore them; invite them back so that they and we, at the end of our lives, can celebrate with Abraham in the Kingdom of Heaven.