Homily for the 20th Sunday in Ordinary Time - Cycle B

Readings:

1st Reading:       Proverbs 9:1-6
Psalm:                Psalm 34:2-7
2nd Reading:      Ephesians 5:15-20
Gospel:               John 6:51-58

     Don’t you think we just about have an obsession with food in this country? For one thing, we are really concerned about what goes into our food, including additives, and dyes and preservatives. Plus we have at least two cable TV channels devoted to food and cooking. Not to mention the commercials for all kinds of food and restaurants. And people are always posting on Facebook where they are eating and what they are having.

     Over the last four weeks we have been listening to the sixth chapter of the Gospel of John – and each week we have heard another aspect of Jesus as the Bread of Life, beginning with him feeding the five thousand plus, and continuing to today when he says that we must eat his body and drink his blood in order to have life.

     This feeding and eating theme obviously has overtones about the Eucharist and Mass– and I wonder what effect our cultural images of eating have on our approach to the Eucharist. What is it that you expect to find when you come to this table?

     Maybe some of us come to the Eucharist only wanting a snack – you know, you don’t want to fill up too much so you can save room for other important things. You don’t really want to think too heavily about anything – it will just be too much to digest.

     Maybe some come to Mass like it’s a fast-food restaurant. We come in as late as we can, we leave as soon as we can, and we don’t see any real substance or enjoyment of the food while we’re here – we just want to kind of “get it over with”. Oh, and if they could find a way to have a drive-through feature, that would be GREAT!

     Or maybe some look at Sunday Mass like it’s a Chinese buffet. We really appreciate all the interesting things in front of us, but we really don’t like all of them. We like to have a lot choice, but we really want to pick and choose what we eat. We might like a lot of spiritual stories, but if someone starts talking about abortion, we’d rather just leave that off of our plate. Or we might really like the prayers and the songs, but if we are called to feed the poor, it’s really kind of distasteful.

     It might be that some people think of the Mass like they are having a private, intimate dinner with their friend, Jesus. No one else really counts as long as they have their time with him and can have a nice one-on-one visit with him.

     Perhaps some see the Eucharist like a family meal where we’re all gathered around the table sharing our common experiences, our hopes and our fears, our challenges and our aspirations. And each of us has brought something to share and pass around, and as we are together we strengthen the bonds of the family and our own understanding of who we are and why we are here.

     Some might see the Eucharist like a banquet – the kind that Woman Wisdom is throwing in the first reading. It is a grand event where all are invited and we are sure to have rich foods and fine wine, and we are not expected to bring anything other than ourselves. It is a feast that becomes a significant event in our relationship with God and with one another. We come as guests but we leave as friends – with Jesus as a part of us and we as a part of him.

     So which is it for you? Like Woman Wisdom, Jesus invites us to his feast, to this table, to share in his wisdom and his very life – so that he can remain in us and we can remain in him. And by being a part of him we become him for others – ready to serve, to give of ourselves to our brothers and sisters for the life of the world.

     Jesus invites us all to this table. What kind of meal do you expect when you come here?

Homily for the Seventeenth Sunday in Ordinary Time - B

     Readings:

Reading 1:                     2 KinGS 4:42-44

Responsorial Psalm:     PSalm 145:10-11, 15-16, 17-18

Reading 2:                     EPHesians 4:1-6

Gospel:                          JohN 6:1-15

     What do you think happened to that boy? You know, the boy with the basket that had the loaves and the fishes? He disappears out of the picture once his loaves and fish are multiplied and used to feed over five thousand people. What do you think happened to him after this?

     Putting yourself as one of the characters in the Gospel story, or imagining other aspects of the story that are not told is one way to pray with Scripture – it sometimes provides deeper insights into familiar people and scenes. So what do you think happened to him? What do you think the rest of his life might have been like?

     Chances are he told everyone he saw for quite a while about what he had witnessed on that grass-covered hill – that Jesus had fed thousands with just a few loaves that he had had in his basket. And I can imagine that he spoke with some surprise, at least, that he had had a role in that miraculous event. I wonder how he was received – apathy? Skepticism? Ridicule?

     I can imagine that this experience had a deep and profound impact on him – and I like to think that maybe after what he witnessed he became a very generous person, a person who became very giving and selfless – that he did for others what he had seen Jesus do for the crowd.

     And I wonder why he had that basket of loaves and fishes – maybe he was on his way from the market or a family member’s house. Five loaves and two fishes were probably enough to feed his entire family for a week. But he gave it up willingly – all that he had - when asked by Jesus.  When they gathered up the fragments, I wonder if he got his basket refilled. We don’t know what happened to the twelve baskets that were gathered up. Maybe he got even more than the five loaves and two fish that he had originally.

     His experience of Jesus was probably a life-changing event. He was a different person after seeing what compassion, generosity, and the power of Jesus do when put together.

     What about you?

     You are here at this table to celebrate and remember a miracle – not just of the transformation of bread and wine into the very Body and Blood of Jesus- but Jesus offering his own life to save us. Because you have witnessed it, do you go out to tell others? Or is it something you keep to yourself?

You are here at this table to celebrate and remember the gracious generosity of God and how extravagantly God has provided for us with everything we need to grow and to thrive. Has it made you a more generous person? Have you become more selfless and giving? Do you look for ways to do for others what Jesus had done for the crowd?

     You are here at this table to celebrate and remember how Jesus took what appeared to be so little and miraculously used it to create a community, a feast, an icon of the Kingdom of God. Do you willingly give what you have and who you are to Jesus, knowing that he can take your gifts and use them to help bring about the Kingdom?

I do wonder what happened to that little boy because of his encounter with Jesus.

What happens to you?

Whose Shepherd Are You?

Homily for Fourth Sunday of Easter - B

"Good Shepherd Sunday" 2015         

         What a comforting image our Gospel gives us today. It is probably a familiar one to you – Jesus the Good Shepherd. There are so many images in art and music of Jesus holding a lamb, or carrying a sheep on his shoulders. Jesus – the shepherd who lays down his life for his sheep, the Lord who is our shepherd, who invites us to the table he spreads before us. And these young people will make their way to the banquet table of the Good Shepherd this afternoon/morning as they make their first communion. It truly is a comforting and engaging image for us.

            But sometimes we have heard this Gospel and thought about this image without allowing ourselves to be challenged by it. Because Jesus is the Good Shepherd for his sacrificial and self-giving love. He is the shepherd who is “good” not because he does his job well, but because he is the shepherd who is noble, who is righteous, who is willing to lay down his life for his sheep – not like the hired hand who abandons the sheep when he has to look out for number one. Jesus is the Good Shepherd because he is the model for us. And so that causes us to ask ourselves a question: Whose shepherd are you?

            Being a disciple means following the model of Jesus – and so we are called to love others as Christ has loved us and loved the whole world.  We are called to live and to love sacrificially. Whose shepherd are you? For whom do you lay down your life? For whom do you sacrifice, and whom do you protect and watch out for?

            In our first reading, Peter and John healed the crippled man at the Temple gate rather than walk by. They recognized that he must be treated with dignity – regardless of the lack of benefits the world would give. We must also lay down our lives – and our pursuit of success by the world’s standards – on behalf of those most in need of love and most in need of our care. Whose shepherd are you?

            Some of us have our task presented clearly in front of us. Some of us care for a parent or a spouse who needs constant care, or is dealing with a debilitating illness like Alzheimer’s, or ALS or MS. Some of us care for sick children, or elderly relatives. But many of us have opportunities to reach out in love and care for those around us – but don’t. Whose shepherd are you?

            We are called to as a series of concentric circles of concern. The small circle is the immediate family and those who are right around us. The next circle is our extended family, then our neighborhood, our city or town, our nation, and the rest of the world. We should be challenged to constantly push ourselves to the next circle of concern, expanding our care and love in ever wider circles.

            In a beautiful document by our Bishops titled “Communities of Salt and Light”, they note that every disciple and every Catholic community are called to be “salt of the earth and light of the world”, and that the pursuit of justice and peace is an essential part of what makes a parish Catholic.

            In our parish, we have a new organization named for that document, called Salt & Light Ministry, which arose out of the inspiration of the parishioners who went through the Good News People program. The Salt & Light ministry is intended to coordinate the social outreach activities of the parish and to offer our parishioners opportunities to step into the next circle of concern. At the end of Mass you will hear from one of our parishioners about a ministry that they participate in, and they will extend an invitation to you to join them.

            Jesus the Good Shepherd has given us the model of self-giving, self-sacrificing love, and that model challenges us to step out in love into circles of concern around us to help our brothers and sisters. How far are you willing to go? Whose shepherd are you?

Christmas Homily 2014

          Dorothy Day once wrote that “It is no use saying that we are born two thousand years too late to give room to Christ…Christ is always with us, asking for room in our hearts”.

            Maybe if we don’t think about Christ asking for room in our hearts it’s because we don’t recognize Christ when he comes to us. And yet, Christ comes to us in every person we meet, and everyone who is a part of our lives. Christ is there knocking on our hearts, asking us to make room for him. If we have a hard time seeing Christ in everyone we know, and in everyone we come in contact with, maybe it’s because we think of the Christmas story we just heard as an event from long ago in far away Bethlehem.

           

            But if we realize that the story is our story too, we might be able to see Christ when he asks for room in our hearts. We have all been gifted in some way to be welcoming to the Christ in others.

            Maybe you are like Joseph - protecting the weak and the powerless who need us to care for them and defend them.

            Maybe you are like the donkey that carried Mary – lightening the burden of someone who is ill, or in a strange and unknown place.

            Maybe you are like the unnamed “inn-keeper” who was able to provide shelter and warmth to folks who otherwise would have been at the mercy of the outside world.

            Maybe you are like the shepherds – willing to leave your routine and your everyday life and be spontaneous in order to experience the great and marvelous things that God is doing for us.

            Maybe you are like the angel – announcing the “good news” of our salvation and giving glory to God – and proclaiming peace to everyone around you.

            Maybe you are like Mary, who said “yes” to what God asked of her, and to bring Christ into the world – to give life to Jesus and his kingdom and to share him with the rest of the world.

          

            The Christmas story is OUR story. The Christmas message is the message of hope and peace and joy for all of us – if we are willing to make it real and alive in our hearts. Christ is always with us, asking us to make room in our hearts.

Inequality is the root of social evil

Justice Perspective – June 2014

          Just about a month ago, Pope Francis created quite a stir when he sent out a tweet that said “Inequality is the root of social evil”. Two things happened: first, this was re-tweeted over 17,000 times; and second, there was a great hue and cry from some corners about the over-simplification of economics by the Pope, or at least that he was confusing.

          To put this tweet in perspective, we have to look at the context of where this succinct line came from. This was not a sentence just made up for the Pope’s Twitter account (@Pontifex). Actually, it was the last line from one of the paragraphs of his Apostolic Exhortation, The Joy of the Gospel, which he issued last fall.

          The relevant paragraph reads like this: “As long as the problems of the poor are not radically resolved by rejecting the absolute autonomy of markets and financial speculation and by attacking the structural causes of inequality, no solution will be found for the world’s problems or, for that matter, to any problems. Inequality is the root of social ills.”

          All kinds of recent studies have shown how income inequality is a problem around the world. Just recently, a study from the Organization of Economic Cooperation and Development showed that the income gap is widening in many developed nations. The United States, far from being shielded from this problem, is actually one of three countries that have the largest inequality (along with Turkey and Israel).

          There are a number of economic reasons for this growing disparity and inequality, but all these developments cannot be explained by economics alone. Consider how insightful Pope Francis is to identify the “absolute autonomy of markets” as one of the “structural causes” of inequality – the problem is the prevalent attitude that markets should be the driving force of human behavior, not morality.

          Some commentators have tried to show how the Pope’s comments are just simply untrue, since there is, in their minds, so much regulation of business these days. But they miss the point – the absolute autonomy of markets has less to do with rules and regulations and a lot more to do with how we relate to one another. In a “market driven” economy, right and wrong are determined not by ethics and morals or the common good, but by what best serves the “economy” and the well-being of the rich and powerful.

          This is what the Pope means when he says in another section of The Joy of the Gospel that there is a “dictatorship of an impersonal economy” that lacks any truly human purpose. The financial systems, he says, rule behavior rather than serve the common good. This is why the earnings of a wealthy minority grow exponentially and widen the gap that separates the poorer majority from prosperity.

          And how complicit are we in this whole process? How easily do we excuse the unethical actions of the “market” as just the cost of doing business? When businesses lay off workers do we see it as just a necessary part of increasing profits? Or do we recognize the calamity and disruption that it will cause for the families involved? Do we wink and smile at the shrewdness of unscrupulous lenders, Wall Street investors, and those who prey on those who are more desperate?

          Inequality is the root of social ills –and will only begin to be solved when each of us begins to support the person and the common good and not the “market”.

A Reason for our Hope

6^th Sunday of Easter – Cycle A

Homily

         

(Acts 8:5-8, 14-17; Psalm 66:1-3, 4-5, 6-7, 16, 20; 1 Peter 3:15-18; John 14:15-21)

          If you were asked to, do you think you could “give an explanation to anyone who asks you for a reason for your hope”? Could you do it with “gentleness and reverence”?

          Our ordinary, daily, life gives us all kinds of opportunities for giving an account of our hope. We live today in a world that many are calling a “post-Christian” era. Experts who study that sort of thing actually have fifteen measures of non-religiosity that include not praying to God, or reading the Bible, or attending church, or considering faith an important part of their lives.

          The most recent study concluded that thirty-seven percent of Americans can be classified as “post-Christian” based on those fifteen criteria. Thirty-seven percent! We live in a world in desperate need of hope. This is why the “new evangelization” is so important – because you have hope because we know that Jesus has conquered sin and death and has sent his Spirit to be our “Advocate” – to change the world. You and I have hope because we have a vision of an end-time of fulfillment when there will be a new heaven and a new earth and the kingdom will be fully engaged in all of creation. And you and I have an obligation to share that hope with all those who struggle with hopelessness.

          In my prison ministry I go to Collins Correctional on as many Friday nights as I can, and those of us from the outside have faith-sharing conversations with the men inside. If you want a prime example of a place where hope is rare, visit a prison.  But just this Friday one of the men started talking about how easy it is to focus on the length of his bid – until he remembers that he has the promise of eternal life. “You know”, he said, “when I think of being with Jesus for all eternity, the next three years seem like nothing at all”.

          You and I also must live in a hope based on the promises of Christ – and we can hope not because we are so good at trusting, but because God is trustworthy. And the message of the trustworthiness of God is truly “Good News” – Gospel – euangelion in Greek – evangelization. We should feel compelled to share that Good News with everyone in our lives – and to do so, as the second reading reminds us – with gentleness and reverence.

          You might think that you are poorly equipped for the task of evangelization. But consider this – Philip in the first reading had no written gospel, had no catechism, had no Religious Ed or Catholic School education – he might not have even ever met Jesus in person. Yet his faith was so strong that it allowed him to go to Samaria – Samaria! – where there was such great animosity – and he witnessed so effectively that the crowds paid attention and were filled with great joy.

          What it takes is being a “Good News” person. We recently completed a program in the parish called “Good News People” – could all of those here who were part of the program please stand up. For those of you who missed out on it the past year, we’re going to run it again starting in the fall. One of the messages of the program is that we must live the gospel – we must live the good news, that if we love Jesus it has to make a difference: we need to be somehow transformed, challenged, changed.

          As St. John Chrysostom so aptly put it 1650 years ago: “There would be no need for sermons, if our lives were shining; there would be no need for words, if we bore witness with our deeds. There would be no pagans, if we were true Christians.”

          Jesus tells us that those who see him see the Father, and because he has given us the Spirit, those who see us can see Jesus – if we keep his commandments of love and witness to hope. How are you going to be Good News to others this week? You might be the only Gospel that some people will ever read.

Diakonia and the Deacon Jesus

5^th Sunday of Easter – A

Homily

(Acts 6: 1-7; Psalm 33:1-2, 4-5, 18-19; 1 Peter 2:4-9; John 14:1-12)

Note: This homily was delivered to a group of fellow deacons during the closing liturgy of our weekend retreat.

          It’s really not surprising why the reading from the Acts of the Apostles was traditionally considered to be a story about the first deacons. In the first verse, the word that is translated as the “distribution” of food is diakonia (the Greek word that gives us “deacon”). In the second verse the word that is translated as “serving” at the table is diakonein. And in the fourth verse the word that is translated as “ministry” of God’s word is diakonia.

          More recently, scholars have debated whether this episode really represents the first deacons – but if we got wrapped up in that debate today we would be missing the point of this Scripture in the context of the other readings.

          The point is that the community recognized a need and brought it to the Apostles, and those leaders of the Church also recognized the need and gathered resources in order to fill the need. Even more, what was recognized was the injustice that was underlying the problem – there was a disproportionate treatment being given to one group over another. There was, in fact, an unequal distribution of necessities in the community.

          Note that those two actions, recognizing the need and gathering resources to fill it, and eliminating the inequities that cause those needs – those are two fundamental activities of deacons that Jim identified for us on the first night. And, in fact, that IS diakonia, that is the ministry of service, that is the two feet of Catholic Social Teaching –providing direct service for those in need today, and working to eradicate the underlying causes of injustice, inequality, and inequity.

          That IS diakonia, and it is hard work – but it is what we have chosen to do. One of the reasons that it is hard work is that there is not always a clear direction, a standard set of guidelines, a tried and true process or approach to addressing needs and drive out injustice. Like Thomas, we want to know the “way”. How often we want a road map, the plan. If you’re like me, I like to have a plan in place, and I get unsettled sometimes when things change. I guess Thomas was looking for the same thing.

          But Jesus says something startling that answers Thomas’ question in an unusual way – Jesus IS the way. He is not the step-by-step direction of Google Maps, he is the way of life that answers how we are to do what we need to do. He is the model of how human life is to be lived, and, even more, the model of how to live as a deacon. The WAY that we are to be deacons is to radiate the deacon Jesus. As a deacon, we only truly find ourselves when in our prayer and our action we see ourselves, in some small way, as an icon of the one true deacon, Jesus himself.

          It is easy to get caught up in a worry like Thomas had – maybe unsure of whether we are going the right way, taking the right direction, doing everything we can to build up the Kingdom. Especially when we realize that what we do, especially to eradicate injustice, or lessen the violence in our world, or take on any long-range goal doesn’t show results right away.

          We can be doubters like Thomas – not sure if this is the right way, not sure where this whole journey will lead us, not really positive of where Jesus is going with this whole thing.

          Some time ago I came across a reflection that has been incorrectly attributed to Archbishop Oscar Romero. It was actually written by the late Bishop Ken Untener of Detroit when he was a priest. I’d like to share it with you as a closing reflection.

It helps, now and then, to step back and take a long view.

The kingdom is not only beyond our efforts, it is even beyond our vision. We accomplish in our lifetime only a tiny fraction of the magnificent enterprise that is the Lord’s work.

Nothing we do is complete, which is a way of saying that the Kingdom always lies beyond us.

No homily says all that could be said.

No prayer fully expresses our faith.

No confession brings perfection.

No pastoral visit brings wholeness.

No program accomplishes the Church’s mission.

No set of goals and objectives includes everything.

This is what we are about.

We plant the seeds that one day will grow.

We water seeds already planted, knowing that they hold future promise.

We lay foundations that will need further development.

We provide yeast that produces effects far beyond our capabilities.

We cannot do everything, and there is a sense of liberation in realizing that.

This enables us to do something, and to do it very well.

It may be incomplete, but it is a beginning, a step along the way, an opportunity for the Lord’s grace to enter and do the rest.

We may never see the end results, but that is the difference between the Master Builder and the worker.

We are workers, not Master Builders; ministers, not Messiahs.

We are prophets of a future not our own.