What Humility Is and Isn't

Third Sunday after Pentecost

    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  St. Peter today advises us to be humble.  A simple exhortation.  A difficult execution, for a variety of reasons, including a lack of understanding of in what humility consists, as well as a deeply-ingrained American habit of self-sufficiency.  Difficult also because humility goes hand-in-hand with the Incarnation, and so the devil tries to keep us from humility at all costs.
    First, what humility is not: humility is not ignoring gifts or talents that we have, or pretending that gifts or talents are not good.  That is false humility, and it is actually pride, because we become the judges of what is good or a gift, rather than receiving gifts with open hands from our loving Father.  I think in an effort to avoid pride, it can be so easy to say, and mean, when someone gives us a compliment, “Oh, I’m not that good,” or “it really isn’t that much.”  Someone has recognized something good in you, which reflects back to the goodness of God who made us.  There is nothing wrong with acknowledging that gift, especially if we acknowledge God who gave us that gift.  Christ Himself said, “‘Your light must shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your heavenly Father.’” 
    At the same time we cannot claim that our gifts are entirely up to us.  Bragging or making sure that others know about our gifts, whether they want to know or not, goes against the virtue of humility.  There’s nothing wrong with using our gifts and talents, and if someone compliments us on them, we can certainly thank the other person for their kind words, while acknowledging that God is the source of every good gift, but we go beyond what we should when we want to make sure that others know exactly what we’re good at, or talk about our achievements and successes without others desiring to know what they might be. 
    But humility comes from humus, meaning ground or dirt, and understands that God is God and we are not.  Not that God would ever say this, but when I think about the rude awakening to the fact that we are not God, the phrase that comes to mind comes with my mother’s voice: “I brought you into this world, I can take you out.”  Again, not God’s voice there, but there exists a reality that God does not need us for anything, and the world existed just fine without us.  The fact that God chose to have us in the world is due only to His love and providence, which is pure gift.  We could not earn a spot in the world.  Each Lent we especially focus on this, as we hear in Latin, “Remember, O man, that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.”  Humility recognizes, as hard as the temptation wants to exert itself again and again, that we are not God or master of our own destiny or the universe.  Adam and Eve precisely failed on this point, as they wanted to be like God on their own terms, not His, and disobeyed His command to not eat the fruit from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.
    Which brings up another way of living a humble life: recognizing our need for a savior.  Intellectually, we probably all agree that we need to be saved.  But do we act like it?  Or do we act like we save ourselves?  I think this is a particularly dangerous temptation for Catholics.  We have so many things that we do, so many prayers and pious acts and sacrifices that we take upon ourselves.  And those are good, and can help us to accept God’s grace and love.  But those prayers and pious acts and sacrifices don’t save us.  God saves us. 
    Humility can also be tough when we live a pretty good life.  We start to approach life as if we have it all figured out.  But if that’s the case, then why would we need God?  If we don’t need saving, then we don’t need a Savior.  And if we don’t need a Savior, then why did Jesus bother dying on the cross?  Or course, even if we are not the worst sinners, we need a savior.  And not just for years past, but at each moment of our life. 
    This doesn’t mean that we make up sins in our confession.  We may well avoid all mortal sins; praise God!  And maybe we’re not even that cognizant of many venial sins.  But certainly there are ways that we can grow in our relationship with God.  The saints are great examples of this.  As they grow in holiness, it’s not that they make up sins, or make sins out of things that are not.  But the recognize even smaller affronts to God that maybe they never noticed before.  They are sensitive to the little ways in which they draw back from divine guidance or control, and seek absolution for those things.  The saints, though from an outside view sin very infrequently, if at all, know deeply, in the very marrow of their bones, that they need a savior each moment of their lives.  And they know that any success that they have in following God and living any virtue is due only to God’s gracious love and life being poured into their hearts. 
    The humble man or woman lets God come after him or her like a shepherd seeks after a sheep or like the woman searching after her lost coin.  A person living humility knows that he or she is lost without God, and begs that he or she might stay with the fold, but if not, be found as soon as possible. 
    If you think you’re doing well with humility, I would encourage you to pray the Litany of Humility.  Does any of it bristle you?  If so, it might be a part of your life that needs deeper conversion.  I know that I am still very much working on humility.  I like self-dependency.  I get uncomfortable when others compliment me.  But praised be God who has given me gifts, and who lets me see the ways in which I still need to grow in allowing His grace to transform me to be a better disciples.  To Him be glory and dominion for ever and ever: the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  

Confidence of a Quarterback

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

The End is Near!

Thirty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time

            We seem to have two themes running through all our readings today: the first theme is praise of a worthy wife which we heard in our first reading and responsorial psalm; the second theme is preparing properly for the end of the world which we heard in our second reading and Gospel passage.  Though I’m not married, I do not think a worthy wife and the end of the world are related.

            These last few weeks of Ordinary Time (next week is already the last Sunday in Ordinary Time, the Solemnity of Jesus Christ, King of the Universe) and the first couple weeks of Advent always focus us on Jesus’ second coming.  This is a major part of our faith, and we profess it each week in the creed: “He will come again to judge the living and the dead.”  Ever since the Resurrection of Jesus from the dead, the Catholic Church has always considered herself to be living in the end times, and that Jesus could return at any minute.  Hence the message we heard in our second reading: “For you yourselves know very well that the day of the Lord will come like a thief at night.  When people are saying, ‘Peace and security,’ then sudden disaster comes upon them.”  We cannot grow lax in waiting for Jesus to return. 

            And we are advised against being lax in our Gospel passage when Jesus tells us to use our talents well and make something with them, rather than just hiding them away.  God has given us each something to do that no one else can do, and our eternal salvation is connected to whether or not we are using our talents. 

           

But it’s all too easy to forget about Jesus’ return.  We write off people who hold up signs saying, “The End is Near” as crazy.  How often do we think about Jesus’ coming back to judge us?  Now, we never know the day nor the hour, but we do know it’s coming, and it could be any minute.  Peter Kreeft, a Catholic professor at Boston College, puts the question in a very direct way: If you were to die today, and God asked you, “Why should I let you into heaven?”, what would you say?  That’s a pretty big question!  Maybe we’ve never thought of it that way before.  What would we say?  Of course, in general, the answer is because Jesus died for our sins so that we could enter into heaven.  But that answer begs another question: what have we done to show that we have accepted the gift of eternal salvation that Jesus gave us?  In other words, what have we done with the talents God gave us?  Talents, in the sense Jesus used it in the Gospel, were not so much gifts, as a way of expressing a monetary value.  One talent could have equaled anywhere from $1,000 to 20 years’ worth of wages (Scripture scholars disagree).  But even if we low-ball it at $1,000: we would know what to do with $1,000 or $2,000 or $5,000.  We would use it wisely if entrusted to us.  Even more so with 20, or 40, or 100 years’ worth of wages!!  The gift of eternal salvation is much more expensive: it cost the Son of God His life!!  But what do we do with that?  How do we accept the precious gift of salvation?  Do we capitalize on it and make sure we make the most of it?  Or do we bury it away?

            The servant who had one talent says that he buried the talent out of fear.  But we also know that the master did not come back until after a long time.  In all that time, the servant never had to think about whether or not he was using the talent well.  It was hidden from the world, not doing anything.  Even the master tells the servant that he could have at least put the talent in the bank, done the least little bit with it, so that it would earn interest.  Maybe it wouldn’t be thought of a lot, but at least the talent would be active in the sense of earning more.  And, as we look at the servants who made something with their talents, they were actively engaged with their talent.  Maybe they lost some of what they made.  Maybe at one point they had more than doubled their money, but then lost some.  Still, they used their talents all the while their master was gone.

            What have we done with Jesus’ salvation that was offered to us?  Maybe coming to Mass each week is like putting that talent in the bank.  It’s not much, but at least it’s something.  Maybe earning two more talents is being involved once or twice a month in works of charity, or helping to spread the faith, or talking to someone about Jesus, or reading Scripture on our own.  Maybe earning five more talents is praying daily in addition to going to Mass as often as we can, and being involved in serving the poor, teaching people about Jesus, and trying each day to become closer friends with Jesus.  I honestly don’t know, though, because I’m not the judge; Jesus is.  But if we don’t know, then we have to make a decision: if we do less and more is required of us to show that we accept Jesus’ salvation, then we’re in trouble; if we do more and less is required of us to show that we accept Jesus’ salvation, then we’re set either way, and maybe we’ll enjoy a better reward in heaven.  Put another way: if we are not sure, better to aim for heaven and miss (so that we go to Purgatory) than to aim for Purgatory and miss (so that we go to Hell).  In doing less, we risk hearing: “‘“You wicked, lazy servant!  [...T]hrow this useless servant into the darkness outside where there will be wailing and grinding of teeth.”’”  But in doing more, it is more likely that we will hear: “‘“Well done, my good and faithful servant.  […]Come, share your master’s joy.”’”  Which do you want to hear?

More Precious than Money

Thirty-Third Sunday in Ordinary Time

            I could see the gears moving in your heads, gentlemen, as the first reading was read.  I could see the checklist being created for your wife or your girlfriend, as the case may be: “value beyond pearls; unfailing prize; brings good, not evil; works with loving hands; reaches out her hands to the poor; fears the Lord.”  And then we heard in the Psalm, “your wife shall be like a fruitful vine.” 

            If we were listening closely to the other readings, we heard that they are more about the end of the world.  St. Paul warning the Thessalonians not to grow complacent but to remain as “children of the light” the midst of a “corrupt and depraved generation.”  We heard Jesus talking about His return and judging people based upon their talents and how they have used them.  We may be wondering what the first reading has to do with the second and third, if it does at all!

            When we hear the parable of the talents, we probably think about those gifts that God has given us and how we can use them well.  A talent was worth about $1,000, no small sum!  We might thing about our intellectual abilities, our athletic abilities, our friendliness, our cheerful disposition, our ability to work well with others, etc., etc. and how valuable they are and how we should use them for God’s greater glory and for the benefit of our brothers and sisters.  But people, too, are great gifts that God gives to us to help us be holy and to give glory to God.  People, too, are worth so much, much more than even $1,000.  Now, we shouldn’t trade people like the man did in the parable.  But we should recognize how much God, the Master of our lives, has given us in the people He has placed in our lives.  Whether it’s a wife, or a husband, a family member, a neighbor or a friend, a coach, a teacher, or anyone else, those people have helped us to become who we are.

            How many times have we relied upon someone for their generosity, a shoulder to cry on, a hug to comfort, wise words to instruct us?  How many times have we thought to ourselves, “thank God so-and-so was here, or else I don’t think I could have made it through this trial!”?  God entrusts to us people, as he entrusted talents to his servants, some of whom depend on us, others are the ones upon whom we depend.  But they are precious, and when Jesus returns to judge us, He will certainly judge based upon who we have utilized the great gift of caring, wise, and loving people.  As part of our examination of conscience, we can ask ourselves: Do I appreciate my children?  Do I show it?  Do I appreciate my parents, if they are still living?  Do I care for them?  Do I take advice from trusted friends, even when it means a painful change in my life?  Do I learn from those who try to teach me?  Do I thank the people I find invaluable in my life?

            Because so many of the things that we receive are disposable, it can be hard to not let a disposable culture seep into the way we treat people.  There’s always a new technological advance, so we just move on to the newest phone, tablet, computer, TV, appliance, or other material thing.  When it fails to serve us well, we get rid of it.  Sadly, our country tends to treat people the same way.  If a child will be too much of a burden to carry in the womb for 9 months, or if it doesn’t serve the lifestyle that we want, we throw it away.  If seniors are constantly sick and are seemingly contributing nothing to society, we throw them away.

            Rather than looking upon them as burdens, we need to recognize that these are talents that God entrusts to us.  These are the precious items that God wants us to develop and with which we are to grow in relationship.  St. John of the Cross says that at the end of our lives we will be judged on our loves.  Real love is always directed towards a person, and so our judgment will be based upon our treatment of others. 

A week from Thursday we as a nation celebrate Thanksgiving.  And while the word “thanks” is in the name of the day itself, it can be very easy to get caught up with cooking, eating, watching the Lions, eating, doing dishes and cleaning up, eating.  We should remember to give thanks, at our Thanksgiving Day Mass at 9 at St. Thomas, and/or at home with family and friends.  Otherwise we are like the useless servant who didn’t utilize the great wealth the Master had bestowed upon him in giving him that talent, but buried in the field. 

God has blessed our parish and city with so much!  We have a great community of faith; an amazing parish school; wonderful parishioners from infants in the womb to our oldest members; a great university with great men’s and women’s athletics; and so many other ways that are known to you and God alone.  What will be our response to the talents, especially the people, that God has placed in our lives.  Will we bury our talents?  If we do, then at the judgment we will hear, “‘You wicked, lazy servant!  Throw this useless servant into the darkness outside, where there will be wailing and grinding of teeth.’”  But, if we are grateful for the people in our lives, and capitalize on the blessings that they are to us in so many ways, then, as children of the light, we will hear, “‘Well done, my good and faithful servant.  Come, share your Master’s joy.’”