Doing All Things Well

Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  As a perfectionist, I would likely love to hear people say about me: “He has done all things well.”  Generally speaking, I think I try to do all things well.  
    Of course, as far as I know, I haven’t been able to make the deaf hear and the mute speak, which is why the crowds praised the Lord.  But did the Lord doing things well because of the physical miracle that He worked?  Or could we see something deeper in the reality that He did things well?
    At the end of the day, what the Lord did well entailed following God’s will.  Yes, this happened in the macro scale, of proclaiming the Gospel and going towards the offering of His life for our salvation.  St. Paul references this in the epistle as he gives the heart of the kerygma.  The Apostle reminds us that Christ died for our sins, was buried, rose on the third day, and then appeared to the Apostles and many disciples, and lastly to St. Paul himself.
    But it also happened in the day-to-day moments, like the one in the Gospel today with the healing.  The first thing to note is that Christ was not in Jewish territory.  He was in the Decapolis, which was pagan territory.  Yes, He was passing through, but the will of God led Him to foreign lands, not just Jewish territory.  And this pagan land the crowds brought Him the deaf and mute man, no doubt having heard about some of the wonders that Christ had done.
    Following God’s will also included being very earthy.  It wasn’t as if the Savior simply said, as He did other times, “I do will it,” and then heal the malady.  In accord with the will of God Christ puts His fingers into the man’s ears, spits, touches the man’s tongue, groans, and says “Ephpheta,” which means “be opened.”  If you had to go me putting my fingers in your ears, spitting, and touching your tongue for Extreme Unction, it probably would be even rarer than it is used today.  But that’s what God wanted our Lord to do (and, to be clear, I don’t do that for Extreme Unction).  Beyond the actual touch, it concerned the day-to-day aspects of life, not a sanitized ideal of life that doesn’t connect to the world in which we live.
    So for us, doing all things well means simply following God’s will, not just in the overarching themes of our lives, but in the day-to-day realities of our lives.  On the one hand, we should be seeking God’s will for our major decisions.  Does God want me to be a priest, a religious sister, or married?  Does God want me to study for this diocese or that, or should I join this religious order or the other one, or should I marry this person or that one?  How do I make a gift of my life to the Lord who has given me everything?
    On the other hand, God’s will often manifests itself in quotidian ways.  Does God want me to stay up late the night before Mass and spend that time with friends?  How will that affect my ability to pray and concentrate during Mass?  Which way do I take for my drive to work?  How do I greet the first co-worker I see?  When my child asks to play after I get home from work and am exhausted, can I give what little I have left, or would it be better to take a little break so that I don’t snap out of fatigue?  

    Those are all ways that we can open ourselves to God’s will and do things well.  And that’s the way we become a saint.  I think we can often feel like being a saint happen simply by choosing the right vocation, or by doing something great for God.  But what did St. Thérèse, the Little Flower, teach us?  What makes a difference is not so much doing great things, but doing little things with great love.  When we make even our small choices based upon a great love for doing what God wants, we do things well, and allow God to perfect us by His grace.  Certainly, we still need to make sure that we are seeking God’s will through prayer and counsel as we discern to what vocation God calls us.  But it can be so easy to write God off in those smaller moments of the day, and He wants to be involved in our life in those ways, too.
    So this week, think of ways that you can open yourself to the will of God.  Do you pray each day that God make His will clear to you?  When you pray the Our Father, perhaps really slow down at the phrase, “Thy will be done.”  We can, like Christ, do things well when we allow God to work through us, even when it doesn’t come naturally to us or we’re put in situations that seem a bit foreign.  May others see the grace of God at work in our lives, and observe that we have done all things well.  In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.   

True Devotion to God, Not Money

 Eighteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

    When I think about those who are greedy for money, the first two images that come to mind are Disney characters: Scrooge McDuck and the Disney version of Prince John from Robin Hood.  I can see in my mind’s eye cartoons with Scrooge diving into his supply of gold coins in his vault or Prince John wrapping a bag of gold around his arm while he sucks his thumb and sleeps.  I think this is a bit ironic, as I feel like you now have to take a second mortgage out on your house if you wish to visit Disney World with you kids.  
    Clearly, if our readings are saying anything today, they’re saying don’t make money a god.  Ecclesiastes reminds us that whatever we work for we have to leave behind, and this is a vanity.  The Gospel talks about making sure we’re not greedy, like the parable of the man who builds bigger places to store all his wealth, only to lose it by his own surprise death.  And even the epistle from St. Paul, which does not always connect to the first reading and Gospel, tells us to set our minds on the things above, heavenly things, rather than those of earth.  
    And so, one could easily think that God says not to worry about money.  And in one sense, that would be right.  But, all of us have basic needs we need to care for, like food, drink, clothing, housing, and healthcare, and all of those (more or less) require money.  And it’s one think if you decide to ignore your own needs, but if you are married and have children, your family may depend on you to earn income so that they also have food, drink, clothing, housing, and healthcare.  So it seems like you have to worry about money.  But the readings tell us not to.  So do we just ignore these readings because they’re difficult?  Or do we stop work and run off to a monastery or convent (the word nunnery could also be used) and never worry about money again?

St. Francis de Sales

    Money does easily tend towards dominating our thoughts and affections, but it is not in itself bad.  Those who live in the world need to exercise wisdom in how they earn and spend money, and this is actually part of how they live their vocation to be saints.  St. Francis de Sales helps us understand this in his great work, Introduction to the Devout Life:
 

When God the Creator made all things, he commanded the plants to bring forth fruit each according to its own kind; he has likewise commanded Christians, who are the living plants of his Church, to bring forth the fruits of devotion, each one in accord with his character, his station and his calling….
Tell me, please, my Philothea, whether it is proper for a bishop to want to lead a solitary life like a Carthusian; or for married people to be no more concerned than a Capuchin about increasing their income; or for a working man to spend his whole day in church like a religious.… Is not this sort of devotion ridiculous, unorganised and intolerable? Yet this absurd error occurs very frequently, but in no way does true devotion, my Philothea, destroy anything at all. On the contrary, it perfects and fulfills all things. In fact if it ever works against, or is inimical to, anyone’s legitimate station and calling, then it is very definitely false devotion.

Holiness comes according to our vocation and our avocation, and avoiding the duties and responsibilities of our own vocation so that we try to be like those living in another vocation is, as St. Francis de Sales says, “false devotion.”
    So, then, what does that mean for you and me?  How do I guard against greed but also work enough to support my family?  Am I allowed to better my family’s life and circumstances, or should I only have the basics?
    Those are each questions that only you can answer in the particular, but with certain principles the Church has to guide you.  First of all, do you own your money or does your money own you?  If you’re not sure, how much time do you spend thinking about money and possessions?  Sometimes I see my spending habits and realize that I need to pull back so that my expenses don’t exceed my income.  That’s virtuous.  But sometimes I might think that if I just had a million dollars I could be truly happy.  That’s greed and idolatry.  
    Can one take nice vacations to tropical places?  Sure, as long as you are meeting the basic requirements of taking care of your family and giving back to God some of what He has given to you.  While we don’t necessarily use the 10% rule (and, truth be told, Catholics on average give less than 1% of their income to the Church), how much is spent on unnecessary niceties, and how much is spent on charity, including the Church, the poor, other charitable organizations, etc.?  If we’re stingy with how much we give the Church, but liberal with what we spend on ourselves or our own creature comforts, then maybe we do need to re-prioritize.  
    A great way to keep money in perspective is to remember that we cannot take it with us.  As the author of Ecclesiastes, by tradition King Solomon, reminded us, we can work as hard as we want for all the money in the world, but we can’t take our money with us.  When we see it as a means of helping us be saints, then we are probably keeping it in the right perspective.  May no one look at us and think of Scrooge McDuck or Prince John, but may they recognize our stewardship of what God has allowed us to enjoy, no matter how much or how little.

The Extended Plan

Thirteenth Sunday after Pentecost
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  In college seminary on an occasional Friday night my brother seminarians and I would pull out the game of Risk, especially if we knew we had a lot of time and didn’t have to get up early the next morning.  I was never particularly good at Risk.  I would hold my own for a little while, but usually tried stretching my armies too much, which made them vulnerable to attack, and then other armies would come and wipe them out.  I usually liked starting with Australia, but then when I tried to attack different parts of Asia, it wouldn’t work our well for me.  

St. Paul

    St. Paul in the epistle today outlines in a very general sense the plan of God for his re-conquest of humanity.  In our first parents, Adam and Eve, humanity had been taken captive by the devil and his lies.  But God, not wanting us to stay prisoners to sin and death, developed a plan to win us back.  St. Paul highlights Abraham and Moses (whom he references by mentioning the law), culminating in the Incarnation of the Lord.  
    The Apostle writes that God called Abraham and promised prosperity for his seed, which, if only reading the Old Testament, one would think applies to Isaac, but in fact, St. Paul argues, applies to Christ, at least in the fullness of God’s revelation.  Now, he acknowledges another covenant, that of the Law, made through the mediator, Moses.  But St. Paul writes that the second covenant does not annul the first, the law does not cancel out the promise, because the promise is greater than the law.  But all of it is fulfilled in Christ, who fulfills God’s promise and fulfills even the law, so that we might no longer be under the reign of sin, but be heirs of the promise made to Abraham through our union with Christ, the son of Abraham in Christ’s human nature.  
    We see, then, that God sometimes takes a very long view of things, at least from our finite, temporal reality.  Since God is present in all times at once, it’s not a long view, but an eternal present.  We know this in salvation: Abraham is commonly thought to have lived around the year 2,000 BC.  The law came some four hundred and so years after that.  And Christ came around 2,000 years after Abraham.  But God, not infringing upon our free will, yet guiding history towards its climax in the Incarnation, sought to bring salvation to the creatures He had made in His image and likeness.  
    But God doesn’t only work that way with salvation history on the macro scale.  He also at times works that way in our lives.  Now, we don’t have 2,000 years to wait, but we can be patient with the time that God does allow things to work out in our lives, adjusting and compensating for our free will.  For most married couples, we ask them to have a period of nine or so months between their engagement and their wedding date.  I know that for couples, this seems like a never-ending time.  But this allows them to continue to deepen their relationship, and continue to learn how to sacrifice their own wills for the good of the other.  
    Or think about the nine months that a mother carries an infant in her womb.  Especially in that last trimester, I’ve known many moms who feel like the child is never going to leave her body.  But that period of waiting allows the child to develop, little by little, so that, at the appropriate time, the child can experience its life outside of the womb.
    For me, as a seminarian, I thought I was never going to make it to ordination.  I have 8 years of seminary, and that was the short way (if I would have gone to a secular college, then into seminary, I would have had four years of college, at least, and then two years of philosophy, and then four years of theology, so at least 10 years, if not more).  But my time in seminary proved invaluable in teaching me more about prayer, about how the Lord works, about growing in virtue, about what the Church teaches, about how to celebrate the sacraments, about the promise of celibacy made at diaconate ordination, etc.  I didn’t always enjoy seminary, but I believe the length helped me to grow in love with the Lord, to get to know Him and His Church better, and to discern if I could live a celibate life.
    But the “extended plan,” if you will, is not just about vocation.  It also applies in our hopes for our professional or social lives, travel plans, etc.  God works with us through our daily lives, even the small choices we make, to try to bring about our salvation with our cooperation.  He puts us in some situations that we think we will never make it through, and He saves us from some situations that we think we might want, but which would draw us farther away from Him.  We’re not always grateful for those times, but they do give us the opportunity to be the people God wants us to be for our own happiness and salvation.
    As country songs are three chords and the truth, there’s a good country song that references this reality: “Unanswered Prayers” by Garth Brooks.  In the song, the artist references a girl with whom he was smitten in high school, that he begged God would allow them to get married and spend a lifetime together.  But God didn’t answer his prayers the way he wanted.  And years later, at a football game with the woman he did marry, as he sees that high school crush again, he realizes that he wouldn’t have been happy marrying his originally-desired woman.  And so he thanks God for unanswered prayers, and sings that “just because He may not answer, doesn’t mean He don’t care,” because “some of God’s greatest gifts are unanswered prayers.”  
    We can find it difficult to be patient with God’s plans, especially when we don’t think they’re for our good.  But God always works for our salvation, and sometimes works out that plan over weeks, months, years, centuries, and even millennia.  His strategy is always the best, and I pray that we can all trust in the loving, merciful, and providential will of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  Amen. 

We're On a Mission from God

Third Sunday of Advent

     If I say the names Jake and Elwood, those of you who remember the 80s probably know exactly who I’m talking about.  Jake and Elwood are the Blues brothers, from the movie with the same name.  And as they work to get the band back together, they make it clear to everyone, that they’re on a mission from God. 
    Our first reading and Gospel today focus on a mission.  In the first reading from the Prophet Isaiah, we hear the mission statement that Jesus Himself will give as He preaches in the synagogue at Nazareth.  Jesus tells them, as Isaiah told Israel, that God has sent Him “to bring glad tidings to the poor, to heal the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives and release to the prisoners, to announce a year of favor from the Lord and a day of vindication by our God.”  That’s definitely a mission from God, and a pretty good one!
    Our Gospel, too, makes clear that St. John the Baptist was “sent from God.  He came for testimony, to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him.”  We heard about St. John the Baptist, also called the Precursor, last week in our Gospel.  The Precursor is a man on a mission, to prepare the way for Jesus.  He is not the Messiah, as some had started to think, but wants everyone in Israel to be ready for the Messiah. 
    We, too, are called to be people on mission.  We, like Jake and Elwood, are on a mission from God.  I have used this quote before, but St. John Henry Newman wrote: 

God has created me to do Him some definite service.  He has committed some work to me which He has not committed to another.  I have my mission….He has not created me for naught.  I shall do good; I shall do His work.  I shall be an angel of peace, a preacher of truth in my own place.

God has given us each a mission, a call, and it’s something that no one else can do like we can.  Can we respond to that call?
    Many times when we think of a call, we think of priests and consecrated men and women like monks and brothers, nuns and sisters.  But all of us are called, by baptism, to be on mission for God.  Many are called to be on mission as a wife or mother, husband or father.  Others are called to serve as a priest or deacon, or be in a religious community.  Some women are called to be consecrated virgins.  But all are called to advance the Gospel to others.
    How do we recognize our call?  Prayer is key.  A call is something that we choose, but to which God first invites us.  We make a deliberate choice to follow the urging of the Holy Spirit in our life.  Imagine how silly it would sound if I said I chose to be a priest simply because no one else wanted me.  Probably not a great way to start the seminary interview with the bishop.  Instead, a call is something to which we are driven.  A wife (hopefully) doesn’t agree to marry someone simply because no one else will have her.  She finds a man who cares for her, who puts her needs above his own, who wants to work with her to build a family according to God’s plan.  She chooses to love him because she senses that they are meant to become saints together.  And through daily prayer, taking time in silence to hear the voice of God, we learn what God wants for us.
    Sometimes our idea of the call develops or changes.  I didn’t always want to be a priest.  I wanted to be married, have a few kids, a couple of dogs, a really nice house and car, and work either in the military, or as a lawyer, and then maybe a politician (don’t let that last part lessen your opinion of me!).  But through prayer, I came to sense that I could only be truly happy as a priest.  Of course, the Church had something to say about it, too.  It wasn’t simply that I wanted a particular vocation.  But with the formation that the Church provided, and the “yes” that the Church spoke through her leaders, I came to be confirmed in what I felt God wanted me to do.  Sometimes our understanding of our mission changes or develops.
    Another key part of our mission is that we don’t replace the Messiah.  An older priest once told me that his spiritual director had counseled him when he became all-too-convinced of his own importance, “The Church already has a Messiah; we don’t need you!”  Our mission is to cooperate with God, not to take His place.  So many people feel that they can decide what they want to do, rather than God; that they can define what happiness will be–whom they can marry, how many kids they need to have, how they should spend their money–without any consideration of what God wants.  God has made the world a certain way, and has taught us, through the Scriptures and the Church, what truly makes us happy.  When we choose other than that, we are in an exercise of futility; we cannot be happy doing the things that God has said will not give us true happiness. 
    Some of you may feel, due to age or other factors, that you have already accomplished your mission because you know your vocation.  But, as long as you are alive, you still are on mission.  You can continue to spread the Gospel through your children, your grandchildren, and others.  You can offer suffering to Jesus on the cross for an intention.  You can continue to help others know the joy you have from your relationship with Jesus.  Don’t let COVID give you the blues.  You are on a mission from God!

St. John Henry Newman

A Call, Not a Text

Second Sunday in Ordinary Time

Until I was around 25 years old, I was convinced that I was never going to have a cell phone plan that included texting.  No one texted me, and I didn’t text anyone.  It seemed like texting was really pointless.  Why not just call and talk to the person?  What was so wrong about physically hearing the voice of the other person, and what was so right about typing out a short message to the other person?  I don’t know when that exactly changed, but I remember thinking how much easier it was to ask a person if they wanted to go out to dinner, rather than going through the whole formality of, “Hi!  How you doin’?  Thanks, I’m doing well.  Hey, I was just wondering if you had dinner plans tonight.  No?  Where would you want to go?  Yeah, that’s a good place, but I just went there last week.  Want to try a different place?  Or what are you in the mood for?  Italian sounds great.  Meet you at the restaurant at 5?  Oh, ok; 5:30 then?  Great.  Talk to you later!  Bye!!”  Now it’s just, “Dinner? Italian? What time? Cya then.”  

Texting has seemed to replace calling.  Usually the only phone calls I get are from much older family members, businesses at work, and emergency calls.  Almost everyone else texts.  And yet, it means more when there’s a call.  Calling is to texting what a letter is to an email.  It just shows so much more commitment and personalization.  

Today’s readings focus us on a call from God, especially the first reading of the call of Samuel, and the Gospel with the calling of the first disciples of Jesus.  But in each case, God doesn’t send a text to Samuel, nor does Jesus text Andrew and Peter.  He personally invites them to a special relationship with him.  In the case of Samuel, God calls Samuel to be a prophet.  In the case of the disciples, Jesus calls them to leave everything behind and follow Him.  Even the Psalm takes up this theme, as we heard, “Sacrifice or offering you wished not, but ears open to obedience you gave me.  Holocausts or sin-offerings you sought not; then said I, ‘Behold I come.’”  There is a call from God that is meant for a response.

There are many calls that God makes to us.  And each involves us personally.  It’s not a group message.  When we are baptized, our name is spoken out loud in the church for the first time.  And God calls that child by name to be a saint, a holy man or woman.  That is our universal call or vocation to holiness.  When we are confirmed, our name is called once more and we are given the mission of proclaiming Jesus by how we live our lives and what we say.  That is our vocation to be evangelists.  When we commit to a vocation, after God has led us there, our name is spoken once more, and we are given a specific way of glorifying God.  We can glorify God through a vocation to serve the Church as a Deacon or a Priest in the Sacrament of Holy Order; to put on Christ in a special way, as Christ the Servant or as Christ the Head.  We can glorify God through a vocation to serve the Church as a consecrated man or woman, as a monk or nun, as a brother or sister, or as a consecrated virgin; to dedicate our entire life to Jesus and give Him all that we are.  We can glorify God through a vocation to marriage to serve the Church by witnessing Christ’s love for His Church, a love which sacrifices all for the other; to cooperate with God in forming new life and new disciples of Jesus.  Whether in the Sacrament of Holy Order, the Sacrament of Marriage, or consecrated life, God personally invites us to these ways of life as our names are proclaimed in the church.  

But in addition to the large scale calls, what we might call the macro-calls, there are also the small scale calls, what we might call the micro-calls.  These are the daily calls that God makes in our life to follow Him in a particular way.  Maybe He’s calling us to help someone at work going through a difficult time; to stop gossiping; to love more; to share; to pray for someone.  Each day the Lord invites us to follow Him.  And each day we say yes we are responding to the large scale call.  But whether macro or micro, each call requires a response.  There is no conversation with a person if we don’t answer the phone call.  There is no conversation with God if we don’t listen to what He wants to say to us and respond.  Sometimes it will come in a very powerful way that is out of the ordinary like with Samuel.  Sometimes it will come in a very mundane way that doesn’t seem like a big deal, like when Jesus told Andrew, “‘Come, and you will see.’”

Through the Eucharist which we will receive, God is extending a call to grow more deeply in union with Him, and is giving us the strength through the Body and Blood of His Son to respond to that call.  This week I encourage you to listen for the call of God.  It won’t come impersonally like in a text, but will be a personal invitation from God to love Him more and share that love with others.