St. Peter: An Icon of Hope

Solemnity of Sts. Peter and Paul

St. Peter

    [In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen].  Today we have one my favorite liturgical celebrations.  It helps that I have seen the Papal Basilica of St. Peter in Rome, and the amazing, giant letters of the Gospel that we heard today (in Latin): TU ES PETRUS AND SUPER HANC PETRAM AEDIFICABO ECCLESIAM MEAM.  It helps that I have been to the Holy Land and visited the Church of the Primacy of Peter, which commemorates another Petrine dialogue with Jesus on the shores of the Sea of Galilee.  But mostly I love today because I love Peter.  I love Peter because he gives me hope.
    Now, this is not to leave out St. Paul.  St. Paul preached the Gospel with boldness, suffering greatly as he traveled.  And I have also visited the Papal Basilica of St. Paul Outside the Walls and the smaller church called Tre Fontane, where the Roman soldiers beheaded St. Paul.  His life, too, is encouraging and inspiring, especially his conversion.
    But Christ calls Peter to greatness, almost in spite of himself.  Peter always seems to be tripping over himself, from his first call to the time right before he suffered martyrdom.  Peter has moments where you just want to hit your head and say, “C’mon, man!”  But then he also has moments where you stand in awe at what he is willing to do out of love for the Lord.
    Think back to the call of Peter in Luke, chapter 4.  Peter had been fishing all night and had caught nothing.  And then the Lord asks him to go out into deep waters and throw his net over the sides.  At first, Peter objects, but he complies with the command, and then catches so many fish that his business partners, James and John, have to come and help him drag it in.  Peter begs the Lord to leave because of his sinfulness, but Christ calls Peter to abandon his boats and nets, and become a fisher of men.  
    We hear today the great proclamation of faith, that Jesus is the long-awaited Messiah, the Christ, the Son of God.  And Christ promises to build His Church upon the rock of Peter, and that the gates of Hell will not prevail against it, no matter how dark times seem to get.  Great moment for Peter!  But then immediately afterwards, the Savior tells the disciples how He will suffer, and Peter pulls Him aside and tells Him to stop saying that nonsense, wherein the Lord calls the other disciples together again and rebukes Peter to his face, saying, “Get behind me, Satan.”  Not a strong start for this newly-named first Pope.
    At the Last Supper, Peter assures Christ that even if everyone else abandons Him, Peter will stay faithful.  What a great statement of loyalty.  But then Christ tells Peter that He will deny even knowing Him three times, which, of course, happens, and Peter goes off to weep because of his betrayal.
    And, by tradition, even at the end of his life, Peter still struggled a bit.  Peter was warned by the Christians in Rome, where Peter was preaching, that the soldiers were going to arrest him.  So Peter runs away, and begins to leave Rome.  As he’s going away from Rome on the Appian Way, he sees Christ walking back to Rome.  “Domine, quo vadis?” Peter asks.  “Lord, where are you going?”  The Lord tells Peter that He is going to Rome to be crucified a second time.  At that point, Peter realizes he is not supposed to run away, and returns to Rome.  He undergoes crucifixion on Vatican Hill, though upside down because he did not consider himself worthy to die in the same exact manner as his Lord and Savior.

St. Paul

    Back to St. Paul, you can imagine how Paul, a trained theologian, might have wondered about Peter.  Perhaps Paul asked the Lord, “So Peter, this leader of your Church, how much as he studied the Law and the Prophets?”  And you can imagine the Lord saying, “Not much beyond a common man.”  Then Paul: “But certainly he has spent a great deal of time, like me, away from everyone else on retreat in the desert for this great mission,” and our Lord, “Nope.”  Paul: “Well, then, you must have given him some special visions and experience of the third heaven, like you did for me.”  But our Lord responds, “He has been open to special revelation from my Father, to be able to recognize me as the Christ.”  And St. Paul: “Hmmm.  Ok.”  Then our Lord speaks, “And you might have to correct him about how he interacts with Gentiles at some points, but not others, because he sometimes gets cold feet about my will.”  Paul made much more sense for a first pope.  But Christ chose Peter.
    And that gives me, and should give you, hope.  No, I’m not going to be pope.  But God has called us all to some mission for spreading the Gospel.  He chose us, me and you, not because we’re the smartest, or have the best training, or because we’re the holiest, or because we have our life figured out.  He chose us because He wants us to cooperate with Him in our own salvation and the salvation of others.  He has given us gifts that will help us proclaim the Gospel and bring others to Him, that others can’t do as well.  As St. Paul says in his second epistle to the Corinthians, “we hold this treasure in earthen vessels, that the surpassing power may be of God and not from us.”  And as long as we recognize that, even if we, at times fail and fall, we can, like Peter, be successful in the end, maybe not in an earthly sense, but in the only sense that matters: in God’s eyes.  
    Peter gives me hope because, while he has moments of greatness, he is, more often than not, tripping over himself and putting his foot in his mouth.  He was, if I might, a fool.  But he was a fool for Christ, and Christ could work with Peter’s zeal, even though it came with warts.  May we open ourselves to the power of the same Holy Spirit who transformed Simon, the fisherman, the son of Jonah, into Peter, Prince of the Apostles and Pope of the Universal Church.  May Sts. Peter and Paul both intercede for us so that we can spread the Gospel as God wills, and inherit, by our life, the reward these holy Apostles won by the shedding of their blood: union with God[–the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  Amen].   

So You Had a Bad Day

Twenty-Second Sunday in Ordinary Time
    I think a lot of people have this idea that if we just do what God wants, then everything in life is going to go well.  If you believe in God and follow His teachings in your life, then you won’t worry about not having enough food or clothing, won’t lose your job, won’t experience suffering.  Maybe we have some innate sense in us that says that if we do right, God will reward us immediately. 
    I don’t know about you, but I have not experienced life that way.  Not always, but more than I would have hoped in my life, the song “Bad Day” by Daniel Powter has resonated: “You stand in the line just to hit a new low. / You’re faking a smile with the coffee to go. / You tell me your life’s been way off line, / You’re falling to pieces every time / and I don’t need no carrying on.”  And the thought very easily comes to my mind: ‘God, why are you allowing this to happen to me?  I’m one of the good guys!  Bad stuff shouldn’t happen to me!’
    If we would read this Gospel passage a bit more, we might not set such unrealistic expectations.  First, Jesus tells the disciples that he was going to suffer and be killed, but that He would rise on the third day.  If anyone was truly one of the good guys, to whom bad stuff shouldn’t happen, it would certainly be Jesus.  And yet, He foretells his own passion and Death. 
    But then he makes it even more real: “‘Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me.’”  If we wish to be His disciples, then get ready for suffering, in other words.  As Bishop Barron says, we have become so used to the cross, that we have sanitized this phrase.  But think of the worst thing that could happen in your life: the most humiliating, painful thing that could happen to you.  And then put that in where Jesus says, “take up his cross.”  That’s how shocking it would have sounded to the disciples listening to Him.  But He didn’t take it back, or say it was just mean to be taken metaphorically.  And some, like Peter would experience a literal crucifixion just for following Jesus.

    Again, to remind us how bad crucifixion was, let me paint a picture.  First, you were stripped naked.  Not down to your loin cloth; stark naked, with all that God gave you hanging out for everyone to see.  As much as nudity is ubiquitous in our society, it’s altogether different when it’s forced upon us, and we have no way to cover ourselves up.  Then, you were strapped to unfinished wood.  Think of the splinters you were getting, not just in a finger, but probably all over your body.  Of course, Jesus’ body at His crucifixion was already battered, as He had endured scourging where pieces of flesh had been torn out.  Then, to get you supported to hang on the cross, nails would have gone, likely, through the wrists and the feet.  And then you would be suspended as the cross was placed in the stand, and you hung there.  Medically speaking, the weight of your body would have pressed upon your lungs, which started to fill with fluid.  Breathing became more and more difficult.  You could push yourself up a little, to allow the lungs more space to take in oxygen, but that would reignite the sharp pains in your hands and feet.  Crucifixion was a death of asphyxiation.  You suffocated…slowly.  And that was the treatment a disciple could expect.
    Life on this earth is not meant to be easy for a follower of Christ.  It’s not easy because the world is generally against Christ.  And the only way we get a totally easy life on this side of eternity is do the opposite of what St. Paul taught: “Do not conform yourselves to this age but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and pleasing and perfect.”  When we give in to the things which are contrary to Christ, life probably will be a bit easier on this earth.  But that gamble only works if this life is all there is.
    If, on the other hand, there is more to life, where those who have followed Christ faithfully finally get eternal rest and happiness, then even suffering on this earth isn’t as bad.  Our happiness will come, just not here.  And that’s why Christ also says, “‘For the Son of Man will come with his angels in his Father’s glory, and then he will repay all according to his conduct.’”  When we view life from an eternal perspective, the present suffering, while not a walk in the park, can be endured for a future of glory.  It’s like the mother who’s pregnant (an image Jesus Himself uses).  The morning sickness, the skin stretching out, the back pain, the inability to see, let alone touch, your toes, and then the delivery of a baby through an area that starts out much smaller than the baby is not fun.  Especially the last part, especially without drugs, is very painful.  But then the mother gets to hold her baby for the first time, and the pain, while not forgotten, somehow seems worth it. 
    God does not promise us an easy life, even if we follow His will perfectly (which, of course, we don’t).  God does promise us that we will have pain, sometimes very sharp pain, because we follow Him and are working on conforming our lives to His.  But the Good News is that He has also experienced that pain for doing God’s will.  Our God didn’t shrink away from or avoid our pain.  He entered into it and saved even suffering so that we could use it for good when we unite it to Him.  We will have a bad day now and then, even when we’re the good guy.  But God will uphold our souls in the midst of our suffering if we stay faithful to Him and do our best to discern the will of God: “what is good and pleasing and perfect.”  

Human Intellect and Divine Wisdom

Twenty-first Sunday in Ordinary Time
    As I get ready to turn 40, it’s incredible to think of the technological advances just in those four decades.  Thinking simply about how we listen to music, we went from records, to 8-tracks, to cassette tapes, to CDs, to Napster, to iTunes, Pandora, and Spotify. 
    The human mind is an amazing organ, and we continue to unlock different ways to utilize the created world.  But, while the brain comes up with ever-new ideas, it is not perfect.  Our intellect, which helps us to understand the world, both natural and supernatural, is fallen like the rest of creation.  Our minds do not always grasp truth.
    We see that in the Gospel today.  When asked who people say Jesus is, the first few apostles echoed the human wisdom, perhaps the best human wisdom, of the day.  “They replied, ‘Some say John the Baptist, others Elijah, still others Jeremiah or one of the prophets.’”  These Apostles, as good as their hypotheses were, erred.  Even if they were simply echoing what others said, they did not grasp the truth of Jesus’ identity. 

Statue of St. Peter from Galilee

    When St. Peter makes his reply, Jesus quickly identifies that “‘flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my heavenly Father.’”  Peter’s response comes, yes, from his intellect, but, more accurately, from his intellect inspired and guided by God the Father.  Peter bases his response partially from what he understands, but also from wisdom from above.
    Those who have responsibility for teaching the faith, as well as we who receive that faith, do well to remember that our human intellect alone does not suffice for passing on the truths of the faith.  From all appearances and human judgments, Jesus was simply another great prophet.  But His miracles demonstrated that He was more than that; He showed by His actions that He was the “Son of the living God.”  But only intellects guided by grace could apprehend that truth.
    When we stick to our own understanding of truth, it is all too easy for our minds, darkened by sin, to assert things which are false.  We may even have reasons and some kind of logic to back up what we say.  But if our intellect is not guided by the Light of God, then we can, all too easily, get things wrong and either not fully grasp what God wants us to know, or even go against what God has revealed. 
    Take, for example, a popular idiom: love is love.  Our intellect, left to itself, might say, “Yeah, that sounds right.”  Dissecting the sentence, it actually doesn’t say much.  Grammatically speaking, it would be as profound as saying “one equals one” or “red is red.”  But it’s all too often used as a way of saying that a person should be able to love romantically or marry whomever he or she wants. 
    Some even use the Scriptures to try to back this up.  They see that St. John says in his first epistle that God is love.  And so, God would seemingly approve of romantic love of another, no matter who that other is.  They might also point to the fact that Jesus upended many of the cultural norms in His day, so we should be willing to do so as well.
    They might point to human history, and point out that there were, in our country, not that long ago, laws which prohibited interracial marriages.  They might say that we are more enlightened now to realize that those laws were wrong (as they were), because every human being has dignity and is worthy of love.  This move to allowing same-sex marriage, they might advocate, is the natural progression of enlightenment and development of human society, so that, as long as two people love each other, they can do whatever they want, and are entitled to the same protections that we have given to marriage between a man and a woman in marriage.  It all sounds quite logical.
    But it fails to take into account the guidance of our loving God in Sacred Scripture.  God, both in the Old and the New Testament, condemns homosexual activity as contrary to His will for human sexuality, and affirms that marriage is between a man and a woman.  And if one retorted that the Scriptures are conditioned by their culture, then why believe any of it as true?  If Scripture is simply one example of the human intellect, unguided by the grace of God, then we’re back to the fact that Jesus is John the Baptist, Elijah, Jeremiah, or a prophet.  He’s just another teacher.  But, as Jesus tells Peter, He’s not simply another teacher or prophet.  If we can’t rely upon the Word of God, then Judaism and Catholicism might as well be tossed aside.

Statue of St. Paul from Rome

   Besides the clear statements from St. Paul that one cannot practice homosexual acts and go to heaven, we also need to look at how St. Paul, inspired by the Holy Spirit, teaches about love.  From everyone’s favorite wedding passage in 1 Corinthians: “Love…does not seek its own interests…it does not rejoice over wrongdoing but rejoices with the truth.”  When a feeling of attraction divorces itself from the truth, it is not love, no matter how strong or how well-intentioned.  Yes, God is Love, but Jesus is God, and Jesus refers to Himself as the Truth, so Truth and Love are intrinsically bound up together.  When love separates itself from the truth, it becomes mere infatuation or even lust.  I cannot will the good of the other (St. Thomas’ definition of love) if what I want to do is contrary to what will help the other person attain heaven.  Love would never lead one to endanger the immortal soul of the beloved.  Love would also never go against what Love Incarnate has taught through the Old and New Testaments and through the infallible teachings of Love’s Mystical Body, the Church. 
    Does this mean that God wants us to hate those with same-sex attractions and persecute them?  No.  God calls us to will the good of all others, whether they are like us or different from us.  God calls us, as He says myriad times in the Scriptures, to pay special attention to those who struggle in life and find themselves on the margins of society, as those with same-sex attractions often do.  Telling someone that they cannot get married and enjoy the physical expressions that are proper to marriage does not mean that we hate that person.  Telling someone “no” does not equal hate, otherwise every parent hates their children…sometimes multiple times…each day. 
    When we rely simply on human reason, as good as it sometimes is, we can get things wrong.  This is especially when it comes to God and what He teaches, because our minds are darkened by sin.  In order to get the “God-stuff” right, we also need the guidance of the Holy Spirit, who helped Peter proclaim Jesus’ true identity, and who still guides the Church to teach us infallibly on matters of faith and morals.  

You're Killing Me, Smalls!

Twenty-second Sunday in Ordinary Time

Sometimes there are quotes from different things that we have read or seen that stick with us and come to mind.  In the move “The Sandlot,” there’s a line that often gets used among people of my age: “You’re killing me, Smalls!”  Or a series of books that I read called the Wheel of Time series by Robert Jordan includes a line from the protagonist that has stuck with me: “duty is heavier than a mountain; death lighter than a feather.”  When Alan Rickman, who played Severus Snape in the “Harry Potter” series died, his one word response to Dumbledore, “Always,” becomes an oft-mentioned word.  And, on a lighter note, anyone who has seen “The Lion King,” is sure to say, at least once in a while, “Hakuna Matata.”

Scripture is also a great place to find quotes that can and should stick with us.  Bishops, and popes often have mottos for their ministry.  Bishop Mengeling’s phrase was “He Must Increase,” which is from St. John the Baptist in the Gospel according to John, when John says, “He must increase; I must decrease” in reference to Jesus.  Bishop Boyea’s motto is “In manus tuas,” which is Latin for “Into your hands.”  This comes from Psalm 31, and says, “Into you hands, Lord, I commend my spirit.”  It was also the words that Jesus said as He was dying on the cross, and is part of a response that consecrated men and women, and those in holy orders say before they go to bed each night.  In seminary, we had a classmate who was joking about becoming a bishop.  We said that his motto should be, “And Jesus wept.”

Today in our readings, we have four Scripture passages that might stick with us.  From our first reading: “You duped me, O Lord, and I let myself be duped”; from the responsorial psalm: “My soul is thirsting for you, O Lord my God”; from our second reading we have two options: “offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God, your spiritual worship” and “Do not conform yourselves to this age, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind”; and from our Gospel: “Get behind me, Satan!”

Each of these has its own context.  In the first reading, Jeremiah is fed up with God, because all Jeremiah has done is tell the people what God told him, and yet everyone hates him.  Jeremiah suffered greatly, because the people didn’t want to hear that they needed to change, or else they would be exiled by the Babylonians.  Jeremiah feels compelled to say what God wants him to say, because Jeremiah loves God, but that love of God leads to suffering, and Jeremiah feels like he was tricked, but he can’t stop speaking for God.

In our Psalm, the author talks about how he wants God, desires God, like parched earth for water, so he looks toward the sanctuary to see the power and glory of God.  This is a psalm that is said on every special celebration in the Church’s life by those in religious communities and holy orders, so it’s one that comes to my mind often.

Our second reading with its two passages are from St. Paul, who is urging the early Roman Christians to be faithful to Jesus Christ.  St. Paul encourages the Romans to not simply let Catholicism be a religion of the mind, where we think about holy things and quietly commune with God in our souls, but even to offer our bodies to God, as a form of worship, as a way of giving God praise, so that what we do with our bodies and our souls may both be acceptable to God, whom we worship.  The second phrase, though, guards the Romans against becoming to comfortable in a pagan society, and being modeled on the outside world.  Instead, St. Paul says that they should be transformed by the conversion of what they think is good, so that they might do what is good and pleasing and perfect to God.

Lastly, our Gospel, which sounds like a good admonition to get rid of temptations, is spoken to St. Peter.  This passage follows after the one we heard last week, where Jesus calls Peter blessed and the rock upon which Jesus will build His Church.  This week, after Peter says that Jesus should not suffer, die, and be raised, Jesus says to Peter, “‘Get behind me, Satan!  You are an obstacle to me.  You are thinking not as God does, but as human beings do.’”  Jesus insists to Peter and the other apostles that suffering is part of the plan of God for the redemption of humanity, because suffering is part of the human condition, and Jesus must take it all upon Himself in order to redeem the entire human condition.

There are other passages in Scripture that we can use.  Memorizing little bits of Scripture can help us as we go throughout our day, in good times and bad, to praise the Lord or ask for His help.  When we feel like nothing’s going right even though we try to do God’s will, we might say, “You duped me, O Lord, and I let myself be duped.”  When we feel like we need God to be present to us, we might say, “My soul is thirsting for you, O Lord my God.”  When we need to remember that being Catholic is not simply about the prayers we say in quiet, or the thoughts in our head, or that we should not let ourselves become like our fallen, hedonist culture, we might say, “offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God, your spiritual worship” or “Do not conform yourselves to this age, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind.”  When we are tempted by Satan in any way, or when we are afraid to follow God’s plan because it’s not the one that we want, we should say, “Get behind me, Satan!”  The Word of God can help us in any situation.  Let’s be familiar with it so that we can turn to Jesus, the Word of God, when we want to thank God and ask for His help, in times of sorrow and times of joy.

Knowing and Loving Jesus

Twenty-first Sunday in Ordinary Time

Anthony John Strouse; brown hair, hazel eyes; approximately 6 feet tall, 154 pounds; resides at 3139 Hogarth Avenue, Flint, MI 48532; Catholic priest and Michigan State Police chaplain; enjoys traveling, reading, and watching high school and college sports; oldest of three children.  Those are a lot of facts about me.  Most of those could be found online.  But just because a person knows those facts, does that mean that they know me?  I think we could all agree that knowing about a person is not the same as knowing the person him or herself.

Today Jesus asks the apostles who He is.  The apostles themselves have seen a lot of things, and have spent a lot of time with Jesus.  At the time of Jesus, and especially in Judaism, to be a disciple of a rabbi meant that you went everywhere he did.  Being a disciple wasn’t a hobby or even a part-time job; it was a way of life that changed all your circumstances.  So the apostles knew a lot about Jesus.  They had seen him change water into wine, heal a lame man lowered down from the roof, teach people a new way of life in the Beatitudes, walk on water, and even multiply 5 loaves and 2 fish so that over 5,000 people could be fed.  

And as Jesus asks who others say He is, they give Him the facts, and some of the inferences others are making about Jesus: “‘Some say John the Baptist, others Elijah, still others Jeremiah or one of the prophets.’”  But then Jesus makes the question very personal and requires an answer that takes some soul-searching: “‘But who do you way that I am?’”  The basic facts are not enough when faced with this question.  You can’t simply rattle off stats when a person asks you who they are, because a person is more than just the aspects of his or her life.

Of course, we are familiar with St. Peter’s response; this is one of the clear passages that Catholics rely on to support our belief that Jesus instituted the papacy, not merely as a first among equals (as Jesus gave the power to forgive first to St. Peter, but then to all), but in a unique role, because to none of the other apostles did Jesus ever say, “‘…upon this rock I will build my church…’” and “‘I will give you the keys to the kingdom of heaven.’”  St. Peter, our first pope, does not merely describe facts about Jesus, but identifies who Jesus is: the Christ, the 𝛸𝜌𝜄𝜎𝜏𝜊𝜍 (the Greek word for Messiah), the Son of the one, true, and living God.

We are probably good about reciting facts about Jesus.  We probably remember things that we learned about Jesus in Catholic Schools or religious education classes.  But do we know Jesus?  Not, do we know about Jesus, but do we know Jesus?  Whom do we know better: Jesus or our spouse?  Jesus or our best friend?  Jesus or our children?

Of course, to know someone, we have to know something about that person.  The complaint from many people who grew up with the Baltimore Catechism, and there is certainly some truth to this, is that they knew all the facts, but never realized that being a Catholic entailed a relationship with Jesus, and therefore a relationship with His Mystical Body, the Church.  They could tell you why God made us (God made us to know, love, and serve Him in this life, so to be happy with Him in the next) and recite all the necessary memorized prayers, but Jesus was, more or less, a stranger.  If we fast forward to the next generation, the general observation is that they were very good at knowing that Jesus loves them, and how to make crafts about Bible stories (the joke is that CCD really stands for cut, color, and draw), but they don't know anything about what the Church actually teaches, and often times do not know prayers beyond the Our Father, Hail Mary, and Grace Before Meals.

In reality, both approaches are needed.  We need to know the facts about a person, but we need to build on those facts to a deeper relationship.  If we put it in terms of a marital relationship, this makes perfect sense.  Can you imagine going up to a person and saying, “I know your height, weight, hair color, hobbies, credit score, eating habits, etc., so let’s get married!”?  That would be crazy!!  On the other hand, can you imagine going up to a person and saying, “I don’t know anything about you, but I know that I love you, so let’s get married!”?  Equally crazy!!  

In order to love a person, we first have to know that person.  So many of the annulments that I deal with are from people who admit that they thought they knew the person they were marrying, but it turns out they were wrong.  Learning about Jesus and about the Church is important, especially as a younger child.  We need to learn the facts, the rules, and the prayers that so many generations memorized.  And that doesn’t end in childhood; I’m not done learning about Jesus and the Church, and I have 4 degrees in those subjects!  So we all need to continue to form our mind with the intellectual treasures of the faith.  

But, especially as we are in middle school and older, we also need to develop and emphasize that relational aspect with Jesus.  If all we know are facts about Jesus, then it’s hard to say that we’re a disciple of Jesus, because a disciple is someone who knows the Master intimately, not just at a surface level.  St. James says it this way in his letter: “You believe that God is one.  You do well.  Even the demons believe that and tremble.”  Demons know about God, but they don’t have a relationship with God.  

Today the Lord invites us to know Him better.  Maybe we need to grow in the facts that we know about Jesus.  Maybe we need to grow in our relational part of our friendship with Jesus.  In whatever way we need to continue to grow (and we’re never done, not even after Confirmation!), God promises to assist us by the Holy Spirit, so that we can truly be the friends of God, not only in name, but, more importantly, in deed.

Bing Crosby and Suffering

Twenty-Second Sunday in Ordinary Time

           

“You’ve got to accentuate the positive, eliminate the negative.”  That’s what Bing Crosby told millions of people in song in the 1940s.  And I’m sure, during the Depression and World War II, looking at the little good things in life was a key just to keeping morale up.  But apparently Jesus never heard the song.  Because in today’s Gospel, He’s not very positive.  He not only foretells his own passion–His own suffering and persecution and gruesome death–but He quickly follows that by saying that all His disciples have to be prepared to suffer–to carry their own crosses daily.  That’s not the way you tend to get people to join in a cause.

            We can imagine, then, why it was so hard for St. Peter to accept what Jesus was saying.  If Bishop Boyea told me today that in a few years he was going to be led before a firing squad and shot, I would probably do everything I could to stop that from happening!  He’s a good man, a good bishop, and, as far as I know, hasn’t done anything to deserve being put to death.  Peter was in a similar situation with Jesus.  And yet, Jesus affirmed that His mission was to die, but also to be raised from the dead, neither of which the apostles really understood.

            We would probably all want to prevent someone we greatly admired and loved from suffering.  We don’t see suffering as a good thing, and we try to prevent it as much as possible in our own lives, and in the lives of others.  And yet, Jesus tells St. Peter that his desire to keep Jesus from suffering is not the way that God approaches the world, but is the way a human approaches the world.  So does God love to make people suffer?

            Of course not!  And yet, God’s perspective on suffering, as we see in Jesus, is different, even from the Chosen People’s understanding of suffering.  The Book of Job is the Jews trying to come to grips with the problem of suffering–the dilemma of how a good God could let innocent people suffer.  We’re all too ready to accept that suffering comes from doing wrong, the bad consequence of a bad action, but how could it happen to someone good?  Even the disciples ask Jesus in the Gospel according to John whether the man born blind sinned or his parents.  Suffering is a tough question, especially when it comes to the suffering of the innocent.  We avoid it as much as possible.  But Jesus embraced it as the means to salvation for the whole human race.  So is suffering good?

            The short answer is no.  Suffering only entered the world when sin did.  It is a result of the Fall of Adam and Eve.  The long answer is no, but yes.  Suffering is always bad, but it can become good.  How can bad become good?  I don’t fully know.  But God does it all the time.  St. Paul says that where sin abounds, grace abounds all the more.  God can change the bad in our life into good for ourselves or for others.  God is that powerful!! 

            But while we don’t know exactly how, we do know how we can participate in God changing bad into good: we unite our suffering with Jesus on the cross.  I think we all avoid suffering because we know, perhaps innately, how wrong suffering is.  But, when we unite our suffering with Jesus on the cross, the suffering is not just a deprivation of the good in our lives, but becomes a participation in the life of Jesus.  We more fully unite with Jesus when we suffer, because He came precisely to suffer, die, and be raised.  And the more we share in Jesus’ death, the more we share in His resurrection. 

How do we unite ourselves with Jesus?  It’s as easy as saying, “Jesus, I unite my suffering with you.”  That’s all we have to do.  We can use other words, other prayers, but at the heart, all we have to do is unite our suffering to Jesus.  And Jesus, who is no stranger to suffering–one of His chosen best friends betrayed Him; another denied Him; almost all of them abandoned Him in His hour of need–receives that, and, as God, changes it from bad to good.  A few years back I buried a 51-yr-old father of seven who lost his long battle with cancer; I have buried an infant; I have prayed with a woman who has given so much of her life to support the church as she learned she had breast cancer; those are major forms of suffering that we can unite with Jesus.  Or maybe you have a broken heart as your boyfriend or girlfriend dumps you; you have to start school again (as a student, or a teacher); you didn’t make the team or band you wanted; you feel like everything is going wrong; you stubbed your toe or hit your funny bone; all of those are sufferings that we can unite with Jesus, as well as everything in-between the major and minor.

We can also unite our suffering with Jesus in the bread and wine we offer at Mass.  We may sometimes feel like we are the heads of grain that have been pulverized to make wheat or like the grapes which were pressed to make wine.  Unite that in silence with the words of the Eucharistic prayer which I pray on your behalf to the Father.  And just as miraculous as God changing bad to good, God changes that bread and wine into the Body and Blood of His Son, Jesus Christ.  How many opportunities do we miss each day because we forget to unite our suffering with Jesus!?!  I know it’s true for me; I bet it’s true for you.

Suffering is not good.  We are not encouraged to seek it out (it will certainly come to us without looking for it!).  But neither do we preach a Gospel of prosperity: just because you love God does not mean you are going to have an easy life.  But our God loves us so much, that He knows what it means to suffer.  Our God loves us so much that He changes bad into good.  Take a minute or two after my homily (and each day) and think about the suffering that you have had to endure, no matter how big or how small, and unite it with the bread and the wine, and receive back the Body and Blood of Jesus, which give us strength in our suffering.

Marketing 101

Twenty-second Sunday in Ordinary Time

            After today’s Gospel, we might be thinking, ‘Jesus should have taken a marketing class!’  Telling people, “‘Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me,’” is a great way to have no followers.  He should have minimized the trials and emphasized the joys, to the effect of, “Yes, there may be some sufferings, but then you’ll never have to worry about anything!!  You’ll get a glorified body, be able to rejoice at the big celebration in heaven, and it will never end!!”  Instead, the “payoff” if you will, is only at the end: “‘For the Son of Man will come with his angels in his Father’s glory, and then he will repay all according to their conduct.’”

            Jesus clearly is not trying to sell us the new fad.  The life of His disciples, the life of those in the Church, is to be centered on the cross.  It’s surprising that any disciples continued to follow Jesus.  But Jesus doesn’t change his “ad.”  He doesn’t tone it down, or repackage his message to make it more appealing.  Jesus, who is the Way, the Truth, and the Life, sets before those who come to Him, the Way of the Cross, the Truth of suffering, and the Life that is possible only after passing through death.

            We generally hate suffering.  It is repulsive to our very nature.  Why should I have to go through pain?  I want to avoid, not embrace, suffering!  We’d rather not have to eat our vegetables to have dessert when we’re young.  We’d rather not have to go to practice and work out in order to play sports, or be in band or drama.  We’d rather not have to work hard to be able to earn a good grade in class or go on vacation from our jobs.  We’d rather not have to endure some illness or disease.  Just last week, as my great-aunt was dying, my family asked me why the woman we all loved had to endure so much pain?  Why would God allow this?

            In the midst of the problem of suffering, it would be great if the Church had a quick answer that perfectly responded to the problem and that would solve it.  It would be easy to think, ‘if I just lived perfectly, maybe I wouldn’t have to suffer.’  But that’s not the case.  Look at the Blessed Mother: what suffering she endured watching her Son die on the cross, innocent as He was.  Look at Jesus, the Beloved Son of God the Father, Who was perfect in His humanity and divinity, Who, nevertheless, was scourged, crowned with thorns, mocked, and executed in an extremely painful way.  Those who lived perfectly still had to suffer.  Yes, suffering increases in relation to our sinfulness.  But even the sinless suffer.  Even Jesus had to unite His will always to the Father’s, and take up His cross.

            In the midst of the question of suffering, the Church responds that suffering is not good in and of itself; it is something that should repulse us.  And yet, it is suffering that saves us.  Jesus’ suffering on the cross brought life, not only to Him who was raised on the third day, but also to us who were united to Him in His death, so that we can also be united to Him in His resurrection.  Our suffering can save us, and save those we love. 

            Last week we celebrated the memorial of St. Rose of Lima, the first saint of the Americas.  In the Office of Readings from the Liturgy of the Hours, St. Rose wrote, “Our Lord and Savior lifted up his voice and said…‘Let all men know that grace comes after tribulation…This is the only true stairway to paradise, and without the cross they can find no road to climb to heaven.’”  In this vision that St. Rose had, Jesus reaffirmed the words of today’s Gospel.  Now, this is not to say to Jesus enjoys watching us suffer, like some sadist.  But, it is only by dying to ourselves, and uniting that death with Jesus on the cross that we are able to share in the resurrection.  New life can only take place after death.  The new flower can only come after the seed dies.  The old saying, “offer it up!” was not just something the nuns said to keep children in line, or that parents said to stop the kids from whining.  It is a great truth that when we unite our small and large sufferings with Jesus on the cross, that suffering becomes not just a burden and meaningless, but something which can bring joy and peace to ourselves and to others.

            And the great news is that we do not suffer alone.  When we unite our suffering with Jesus, we also invite Jesus, and all the angels and saints, into our own passion, just as they were present at the Passion of Our Lord.  And we know how much easier suffering can be when we are united with others.  If a person gets hurt, it helps to have someone be with you until the injury can be dealt with.  If a person loses a job, it helps to have someone, not just to commiserate with, but to truly guide us through the trial.  And when we suffer and unite our sufferings with Jesus, we know that we are never alone.

            The challenge for us is to make that conscious choice to offer our sufferings with Jesus.  St. Paul tells us to “offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God.”  What does this mean?  It means that, as we come to this Mass, we unite all those sufferings we have experienced in the past week with the host that is on the altar, which is the sacramental re-presentation of Jesus on the cross.  If we lost a sports game, we unite that pain to Jesus; if we got hurt or are going through a serious illness, we unite that suffering and frustration to Jesus; if we’re not doing well in school, or are nervous about a new school year, we unite that anxiety to Jesus; if we have lost our job and don’t know how we’re going to make ends meet, we unite that uncertainty to Jesus.  People say that things are bad right now: unemployment, wars, natural disasters, uncertainty, etc.  These are not good things.  But they can be great opportunities for deeper prayer, and real growth in grace by uniting ourselves to Jesus on the cross.  If we truly wish to be a disciple of Jesus, we must deny ourselves, take up our crosses, big and small, and follow Jesus.  “‘For the Son of Man will come with his angels in his Father’s glory, and then he will repay all according to their conduct.’”

Truth Is

Twenty-First Sunday in Ordinary Time

            Our first reading and Gospel focus on keys: the keys of the house of David and the keys of the kingdom of heaven.  We’re no strangers to the power of keys.  Just imagine (or remember, depending on the person) the terror that enters a person’s heart when he or she suddenly realizes that the keys are locked in the house, or the car, or are lost somewhere.  Or think about the real pain that is caused when a parent tells the teen that the privilege of having keys to the car is gone as a punishment for some bad behavior, or, when the tables are turned, when a child has to tell their parents that they no longer have the privilege of the keys and that they can no longer drive out of a concern of safety for the parents and for others. 

But keys are not simply taken away.  When keys are given, it’s a great experience of freedom.  Think about the joy that you had, or that your kids have, when you first get the keys to the car after you’ve gone through driver’s ed.  Think about the joy that comes when you’ve gone through what seems like a mountain of paperwork and you are finally handed the keys to your new home.  Keys can be a very uplifting aspect of our lives, not just a negative one.

In the first reading, we do get a more negative sense of the keys, because they are being taken away from Shebna, the master of the palace.  Earlier in this same chapter, the Lord condemns Shebna with being more concerned with monuments to his glory than with God’s own people.  And so God speaks through Isaiah to say, “‘I will place the key of the House of David on Eliakim’s shoulder; when he opens, no one shall shut; when he shuts, no one shall open.’”  Eliakim becomes the new bearer of authority and power, because he has the keys to the House of David, the royal house.  Eliakim, and no longer Shebna, gets to decide who can enter the House of David, and who will remain outside.  He is the gatekeeper, now, to Shebna’s shame.  Shebna is like the young driver that just lost his driving privileges.

Statue of St. Peter near the
Sea of Galillee

In our Gospel, though, St. Peter is given the keys, which are not taken from another, but are given freely as a gift.  And this gift comes as a reward for the faith that Peter exhibits at this moment (although at others he doesn’t show such a great faith).  Jesus asks the disciples who others think He is.  It’s almost as if Jesus is posting, “Truth is…” to his disciples, except that Jesus wants to know what others think about Him, rather that posting what He thinks about others.  And when Peter, by the grace of God, is able to say the words, “‘You are the Christ, the Son of the living God,’” Jesus responds to those words with even more powerful words, words that ring the interior base of the Basilica of St. Peter in Rome: “‘You are Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church, and the gates of the netherworld shall not prevail against it.’” 

We lose the connection that existed in the original Aramaic that Jesus spoke, but which is still communicated in the Greek (in which the Gospel according to St. Matthew was first written) or even the Latin, which was copied by St. Jerome from the Greek.  In Latin we would hear, “Tu es Petrus et super hanc petram…”  We hear more clearly that our Lord, who gives Simon the new name of Peter, meaning a new identity that he has, just like Jacob was renamed Israel by God in the Old Testament, makes Peter the rock upon whom the Church is built.  Peter gains the special ministry to act not only in the person of Christ, but as Christ’s vicar on earth.  Peter is the Rock.  Petrus est petram. 

And while all the apostles, in the twentieth chapter of the Gospel of John, will receive the power to forgive sins through the words, “‘Whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven; and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven,’” Jesus says to Peter alone, “I will give you the keys to the kingdom of heaven.’”  This unique authority is given to St. Peter alone, and is part of the basis for the Catholic teaching on the unique role of the Pope as Head of the Apostolic College (the bishops united as one), just as Peter is the Prince of the Apostles. 

This power and authority, really a service to the unity of the disciples of Christ, continues today through the Petrine Ministry of the pope.  The Pope, as successor of St. Peter, continues to hold the keys, allowing him, either by himself, or as the head of the college of bishops, to guide all of us in knowing how the teachings of Christ apply to today’s situations, letting some things in, and keeping others out.  Some may not like that the pope, as successor of St. Peter, has the power of the keys, but they’re not our keys!  The keys belong to Christ, and He bestowed them on Peter; not because he was the bravest, or the wisest, or the holiest.  But, Jesus knew that Peter was the one to receive them according to the plan of God.  The great news is that, if we stick with St. Peter and his successor, then we’re sticking with the guy who has the keys into the house that Jesus promised he had prepared for us, just like when we are young, if we stick with our parents, we’ll always be able to get into our house.

Pope Benedict XVI at the Mass of the Rings

More often than not we hear people nay-saying the pope.  Someone always has some kind of complaint about this or that homily, this or that teaching, what he wears, how he celebrates Mass, etc., etc.  Today I want to be clear to you: I love the pope.  I thank God now for Pope Benedict XVI, just as I thanked God years ago for Pope Bl. John Paul II.  I thank God for the pope’s leadership, his teachings, and all that he has done to guide the Church to further holiness, while he himself strives to be a saint.  I hope that you, too, will join me in praying for our Holy Father, Pope Benedict XVI, as he fulfills his Petrine Ministry, and show your love and support for him, especially when he is under baseless attacks from others that we know.  Is Pope Benedict perfect?  Certainly not.  Neither was St. Peter.  Pope Benedict is, however, striving for perfection just like you and me.  But he’s our pope who has been given a special mission by Jesus to guide the Church into greater holiness.  And, after all, he has the keys!