Fr. Rick Spicer

In this gospel, Jesus cautions his listeners that the status quo will not always be around. The world as they knew it would come to an end. The majestic temple that stands before them will someday be a pile of rubble. The residents of New Orleans learned that lesson the hard way when Hurricane Katrina left a trail of destruction in its wake. Whatever they owned wasn’t spared from the devastating floods. The same could be said for some folks in Southern California recently when fires swept through without warning.

It is easy for us to be possessive. After all, isn’t that the American dream to own the latest and the best? And if what we own isn’t good enough, Madison Avenue cajoles us into buying even better and fancier products, leaving a fair number of us deeper in debt and feeling less secure.

Once again, Jesus is trying to get us to reexamine our priorities in life. He knows that we can be rather slow learners so he uses the graphic example of the end times to get his point across. Perhaps five year old Jenny can help us reconsider what really matters in life. Shopping with her mother one day, little Jenny sees a necklace of costume pearls. She begs her mother for $5 so she can buy it. Her mother tells her that if she really wants it, she would have to do some extra chores around the house to earn the money.

As soon as they get home, Jenny empties her piggy bank and finds that she has a dollar and a few pennies. Over the next few days, she does more than her fair share of chores; she runs errands for her grandmother and also helps her neighbor pull some weeds in his yard. Soon she has the $5 she needs and the pearls are hers.

And how she loves them! Even though they are inexpensive costume jewelry, they make her feel so dressed up. Jenny wears them each Sunday to church and on special occasions. She takes very good care of her necklace.

One evening as he was tucking her into bed, her father asks if she loves him. “Of course, Daddy, you know that I love you.” He then asks, “Then, can I have your pearls?”

Oh, Daddy, not my pearls! But you can have my new beanie baby, the one I got for my birthday from Aunt Jane.  She’s my favorite.” “That’s ok, honey. I love you, good night.”

A few nights later, after reading her a story, Jenny’s father again asks her, “Sweetheart, do you love me?” “Daddy, you know that I love you.” “Then, give me your pearls.”

“Oh, Daddy, not my pearls! You can have Princess, my favorite doll. She’s the most beautiful doll I have.” “That’s ok. Sleep well, little one,” he said as he kissed her good night.

The next evening, just before bedtime, Jenny comes into her father’s study. With trembling lips and teary eyes, she said, “Here, Daddy, I want you to have them because I love you,” handing him her artificial pearl necklace.

With tears welling up in his own eyes, Daddy takes the necklace. Then he reaches into his desk drawer and takes out a small velvet case. Inside the case is a small delicate necklace. He fastens it around his surprised daughter’s neck. On the gold chain is a real pearl. Daddy had the necklace all the time, patiently waiting for Jenny to give up her cheap necklace so that he could then give her a genuine treasure.

Like Jenny’s father, God endeavors to give us treasures that are far more priceless than our worldly possessions could ever be. Repeatedly both Jesus and Paul urge us to seek gifts that are much more precious and lasting than the world can ever offer; treasures like compassion, reconciliation, justice and peace of mind. But if we want to possess these treasures, we must first deal with our self-centeredness, the source of so much unrest in our lives. God’s treasures are ours for the asking if we would be wise and generous enough to let go of the lesser things in life that we keep clinging to instead. No wonder, Archbishop Murphy often posed the question, “What do I own and what owns me?”

That is why I think of stewardship as being so vital for us. When we become willing to surrender something, God then has the chance to give us treasures that really matter, treasures that will survive any hurricane, earthquake, or blizzard that could disrupt our lives.  When I hear people expressing reluctance to make a pledge, because of the circumstances in their lives, I wonder if they truly believe in that line engraved on our coins, “In God we trust.” Do we?

The love of Jesus Christ cannot be fully realized so long as we cling to worldly goods and earthly priorities. Too often they impede us from putting time aside for prayer and worship, which are our best avenues for getting to know God, the source of the wisdom we need for living life fully. Jesus says, “Don’t be terrified,” yet how often do we panic because we haven’t made the time and space to be truly present to God, thus build up our trust that God cares?

Jesus cautioned his listeners to ignore those who predicted the end of time. Why? Because he has special things in store for his followers before that moment arrives. Sooner or later, our lives will be lost, but the bottom line is this: our life in Christ, that alone, is safe for all time. And ultimately, isn’t that what matters most to us?
 

A little girl was leaving for a birthday party when her mother told her to be good and to remember, when she was leaving, to thank her hostess. When she arrived home, the mother asked if she had thanked the hostess and the little girl replied, “No, the girl in front of me did and the lady said, ‘Don’t mention it,’ so I didn’t.”

Nor, as we heard in the gospel, did nine certain lepers. Namaan, a Syrian general afflicted with leprosy, and the Samaritan, the only one of the ten cured lepers to return and give thanks to Jesus for being healed, are both obviously very grateful.

The apparent ingratitude of the nine lepers is not so unusual. How often have we done the same thing? A fair number of us do not really go out of our way to express our gratitude; especially to God for all that we have been blessed with.

Most likely, the nine lepers who didn’t return to Jesus very much appreciated what he had done for them. Why they didn’t return to offer him thanks is anyone’s guess. Perhaps they felt obliged to first go and visit the priests to get their clean bill of health. In any case, what is evident to Jesus was the cure didn’t touch their hearts.

Why was the Samaritan so grateful? In ancient times, leprosy was an illness with a stigma, much like AIDS has been for our times. If you had leprosy, you were labeled a public health risk, thus ostracized from the village and cut off from your family. You were expected to warn others, “Unclean! Unclean!” should anyone come near you. In order to survive, all you could do was beg. Being a leper was a lonely and humiliating life. Being cured gave the Samaritan a new lease on life. No wonder, he profusely thanked Jesus.

What happened to lepers back then happens to us whenever we commit a grave sin, for any deliberate choice to sin distances us from God and from our faith community. Sin is an abuse of the freedom God gives us; it is not a weakness we can overcome by our own efforts, any more than a leper can cure himself. Sin is a condition from which we need to be saved and the only one who can do that is Jesus himself.

When we alienate ourselves from God by committing a grave sin, we cannot fully participate in the Mass in that we are not allowed to receive communion until we have been reconciled with God and the Church through the sacrament of reconciliation. Like the lepers, at times we feel the need to cry out, “Jesus, master, have pity on us!”

And if we did, he would tell us, “Go show yourselves to the priests.” In biblical times, by certifying that they been healed, priests gave the newly cured lepers permission to return home to their community. Likewise, for us today, going to a priest and receiving absolution through the sacrament of reconciliation restores us to full membership in the Church that is lost when we have sinned. Now forgiven, we are in full communion with the body of Christ, allowed once again to receive the graces of Holy Communion.

Our primary manner of worship as Catholics has always been the Mass, known also as the Eucharist. That name comes from the Greek for Thanksgiving. In other words, the Mass is our ideal opportunity to thank God for all that we have been given: life, love, forgiveness, compassion and mercy, along with the material goods that keep us alive.

Like the nine lepers who didn’t voice their gratitude for being healed, many Christians today do not appear to be so grateful for all that God has blessed them with. At our latest deanery meeting, we were shown statistics indicating the growing number of people who consider themselves Catholic but are opting more and more not to celebrate their faith. Parents choosing not to have their children baptized, young adults choosing not to get married, much less, married in the Church; people of all ages choosing not to go to Mass every weekend for any number of reasons. Taking time to thank God in worship is evidently not a priority for them.

Despite the caution voiced by Paul in his letter to Timothy that God will deny those who deny him, it seems that a fair number of Catholics don’t really think that their sinfulness will cause them to lose God’s gift of salvation. Instead, they presume that “God will understand.”

Maybe God will, but do we understand our need to be grateful? In his book, No Man is an Island, the late Thomas Merton says this about gratitude; “if we are not grateful to God, we cannot taste the joy of finding him in creation. To be ungrateful is to admit that we do not know him, and that we love his creatures not for his sake but for our own. Unless we are grateful for our own existence, we do not know who we are, and we have not yet discovered what it really means to be and to live…the only value of our life is that it is a gift of God. Gratitude shows reverence to God in the way it makes use of his gifts.”

Unlike the polite hostess, God does expect us to mention our gratitude and for good reason. Not only do we need to be grateful, we must continually express that gratitude through prayer, worship and good deeds if our faith is to remain vibrant and well. So long as we demonstrate our gratitude by living our faith through worship and the sacraments, we will never deny God nor will God ever deny us.
 

Not long after Jesus ascended into heaven, the archangel Gabriel asked him, “Lord, what is going to happen now that you are back here in heaven? Who is going to carry on the work you began down there?” Jesus replied, “I am leaving that up to Peter, James, John, Martha, her sister, Mary, and the rest of the disciples.” “But,” protested Gabriel, “what if they don’t do it? What if your plan doesn’t work out? Then what?” “Gabe,” Jesus answered, “I have no other plans.”

Fortunately, for us, they and countless generations of Christians carried out the work that Jesus began. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be here, celebrating the birth of his cousin, John the Baptist. As the conversation between Jesus and Gabriel suggests, God uses people to carry out his divine mission.

To be used by others is not always appreciated. In fact, some people resent being used or put upon. But who among us wouldn’t feel honored if Jesus stood here in person and asked a favor? Wouldn’t you be flattered?

Do you honestly feel that God’s plan includes you? Some scientists, notably those in the field of biology, tell us that there is no purpose to our existence. Like insects, we come and go and the world goes on. One Nobel Prize winner noted, “Destiny is written concurrently with the event, not prior to it. Our own destiny was not written before the emergence of the human species. Our number came up in the Monte Carlo game.” What a woeful look on human life, telling us that basically our lives are pointless, meaningless, and of little significance. God certainly doesn’t think so.

An irreligious person could easily fall into such a mindset. When we become oblivious to God’s love, we become oblivious to God’s plan as well. Long ago, I learned that God knows everything, but because of our free will, God doesn’t control our lives. To say that God is not in control, however, does not mean that our lives have no destiny.

John is remembered on his birthday for living out the plan God had in mind for him. His parents’ neighbors asked, “What will this child be?” They knew the hand of the Lord was on the boy and that his life wasn’t a random toss of the dice or a fluke in time. God also knew that Zechariah and Elizabeth would consent to raising a son, whom they would name John; a son who would boldly go forth to call people to repentance at the risk of losing his own life.

So what might your destiny be? I cannot say, but I do know that by virtue of your baptism, you are called by God to be part of this divine plan that Christ began so long ago. The hand of the Lord is also upon you, just as it was on John the Baptist. You are blessed with a destiny that, if you choose to live it, will bring you God’s gift of eternal salvation.

At this moment, we may have some idea of what tomorrow will bring with the goals we’ve  set for ourselves, but we cannot predict all that the future can be. God alone knows what potential the future holds for us.  Meanwhile, God invites us to journey toward the future, sustained by the conviction that God will be with us all the way.

Forty years ago, I graduated from high school. While in college I visited Whidbey Island for the first time. Had you told me then and there that I would someday become a priest and serve as a pastor on this island, I would have shaken my head in disbelief, for back then, the notion of becoming a priest was the last thing on my mind. But God has always worked in interesting and at times mysterious ways, sending people into my life who impacted my destiny by what they said and did.

And I am not alone. God does the same thing with you. In countless and often unsuspecting ways, God sends people into your lives to shape your destiny with the hope that you will choose to grow even deeper in your love. God also sends you, perhaps in ways you least expect to be used, into the lives of others, anticipating that you will make a difference in bringing someone else closer to God.

To think that God hasn’t called you to be part of this grand plan of salvation would be a mistake.  While our destiny isn’t likely to be as far-reaching as John the Baptist, God does have a plan for each of us to follow, but first we must recognize what being a disciple entails and live accordingly. In addition to living out the commandments, that means being people of compassion, justice, and forgiveness. If John the Baptist were to stand in our midst, undoubtedly he would challenge us to make choices that send the message that God is first in our lives.

In the first passage from Isaiah, we read that God’s servant was like a ready instrument should the Lord need him, “He made of me a sharp edged sword…a polished arrow…You are my servant through whom I show my glory.”

As Christians, we are baptized into Christ and we “put on Christ.” As a priest, I see my life as possibly “another John,” pointing others to Christ as John the Baptist did, preparing the way for Christ to enter the lives of others. I know that I am not alone in this undertaking for I think of every Christian, and that includes you, as another “John” as well, favored by God, called to become strong in the spirit, to speak with courage against evil in the world and, to ponder if we really are ready for the one who is to come. After all, Jesus has no other plan. He is counting on you and me to do our part.
 

When I first began to wear hearing aids, I was awed to hear sounds that I had never heard before, but in due time I grew accustomed to them. Psychologists tell us that if we paid attention to every sound we heard or every color we saw, we would literally go insane. To protect ourselves, we learn to block out certain sounds and sights. They call this process, “habituation.” Parents and teenagers call it “tuning out.”

There is a down side to habituation. After a while, we tend to habituate almost anything in life like sunsets, landscapes, or family. We lose our appreciation and excitement for the things we see all the time when we take them for granted.

Have some of us have added Eucharist to that list? When I say, “Body of Christ,” and the person receiving communion gives me either no response or a lifeless, “amen,” I wonder if we share the same belief in what I just said. If a fellow Catholic decides to skip Mass, I wonder if we share the same belief in what Eucharist can do for us.

Just before communion, the celebrant holds up the cup and host and boldly proclaims in this or similar words, “This is the lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world. Happy are those who are invited to this supper.” Are you happy to be invited? Does being here make a difference in your busy schedule or would you prefer to be elsewhere?

Ideally every Catholic would be thrilled to be here at the Lord’s Table. This meal should be the highlight of our week yet looking around; you and I both know that not everyone who could be here is present for any number of reasons. For some, other activities are more important or appealing than the chance to be with Jesus at Mass.

Much of our attitude toward Eucharist and the Mass depends on what we personally believe. The core of our Catholic faith is that bread and wine when consecrated, become for us the body and blood of Jesus Christ. Not symbols, as many other Christians believe, but truly the real presence of Jesus Christ.  Our Catechism tells us, “Under the consecrated species of bread and wine Christ himself, living and glorious, is present in a true, real and substantial manner: his body and his blood, with his soul and his divinity.” (1413). When you stop to think about it, the Real Presence is no more incredible than the incarnation itself. If God would choose to become human to make divinity present to us, why couldn’t Christ change bread and wine into his divinity and humanity?

Nonetheless, numerous surveys reveal that not all Catholics believe in the real presence of Jesus Christ even though this is what fundamentally separates us from other Christians. Contrary to what the Church teaches, many Catholics don’t believe that the bread and wine, once consecrated, have truly become the body and blood of Jesus Christ.

If you don’t believe in what the Eucharist is, I ask that you decline the invitation to come to this supper. Instead, stay in your seat and ponder what is stopping you from accepting this crucial belief of our faith. St. Cyril of Jerusalem, 1600 years ago, said, “Don’t judge the reality by what you see and touch and taste. Judge instead by your unwavering faith.” Before that, St. Augustine said, “Faith opens the door to understanding.  Unbelief closes it.”

How readily we are impacted by what is unfolding before us depends on the level of faith and love we bring with us to Mass. Just how open are you to God’s presence? When we approach the Mass without active faith in Jesus’ presence, we are pretty much in the same boat as the unbelieving crowds we often encounter in the gospels. They saw a carpenter, an itinerant preacher, an ordinary man. They didn’t see God and neither do we when we fail to see Christ present in our midst in the Word and in the Eucharist.

Even if we say that we believe in the real presence, our words are hollow if we don’t express our faith by our actions. Noting how nonchalantly many Catholics approached the Mass, a non Catholic once said, “If I believe what you say you believe, I’d be crawling to that tabernacle every day on my hands and knees to be with the One you say is in there.”

The way we approach the Mass, that is, our preparation, conduct, and follow up, reflects our belief in what is happening. Do we see ourselves as coming here to be in the presence of our God? Chances are, there is room for improvement to make the Mass more meaningful for us.

The Church calls on us to fast for an hour before communion for good reason. We should get out of our normal routine by quieting ourselves down to be in God’s presence. Seize the moment to ponder the readings beforehand or use the time in private prayer to prep yourself to pray with one another. Think of this time before Mass as a warm up time, much like one warms up before exercising.  Ask yourself, “Does the way I dress reflect that I am about to encounter God in this gathering?” Do you see this as an extraordinary opportunity or not? What if it were the President who was waiting to see you? Would you come nonchalantly or ill prepared?

If you are indeed happy to be invited to this meal, and I hope you are, then savor the moment. Take and eat, Jesus tells us. He didn’t say, eat and run. Allow him to then transform your lives in this extraordinary encounter that has changed the lives of countless believers.
 

“Lord, send out your spirit and renew the face of the earth.” Such was our response to today’s psalm but what is this spirit we are asking for to renew the face of the earth? One way to appreciate the role of the Holy Spirit in our lives was inadvertently demonstrated by a five year old boy.

His mother had brought him to a concert by the great Polish pianist, Ignace Paderewski, hoping that the experience would encourage her son in his own young efforts at music. She was delighted to see their seats were close to the stage. The mother then got so involved talking with an old friend that she failed to notice her son had slipped away.

The lights dimmed and the audience hushed. The curtains parted and the spotlight came on. Then the mother saw her son sitting on the piano bench, innocently picking out, “Twinkle, twinkle little star.”  Understandably, she gasped in disbelief, but before she could retrieve her son, Paderewski came on stage. Walking over to the piano, he whispered to the boy, “Don’t stop! Keep playing!”

Then, leaning over the boy, Paderewski reached out his left hand and began to fill in the bass. A few seconds later, he reached around to the other side of the boy, encircling him, and added a running obbligato. Together, the great maestro and the tiny five year-old mesmerized the audience with their playing. When they finished, the audience broke out in a thunderous applause.

Years later, almost all those present could not remember the other pieces that were played that night, but no one forgot “Twinkle, twinkle little star.”

The interaction between the great maestro and the five year old boy provides a beautiful image of how the Holy Spirit works with the Church to make the beautiful music of God’s love audible in today’s world.

On Pentecost we celebrate the coming of the Holy Spirit upon the disciples, as Jesus had promised.  “The advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you everything and remind you of all that I told you.”

Recall the image of Paderewski and the young boy.  Think of the boy as the disciples. When Jesus parted from their midst, they were like spiritual children. Their knowledge of God and how to spread the good news of Jesus Christ was terribly limited, like the little boy’s knowledge of music was.

Like the great maestro, the Holy Spirit came upon the disciples and encircled them with love, whispering words of encouragement and transforming their feeble human efforts into something beautiful and beyond anyone’s expectations.

Like the little boy, we play our tune. In our own way, we proclaim to others what is important to us. We make that known by what we say and do. Ideally that would be our faith in the good news of Jesus Christ. Seeing ourselves as evangelists may seem daunting to say the least, but no more than it must have been initially to the disciples. Empowered by the Holy Spirit, they began proclaiming the good news to anyone who would listen.

Like the disciples on the eve of that first Pentecost, most of us underestimate our potential and talents. In the face of all that has to be done, we see ourselves as being inadequate to make a difference when it comes to renewing the face of the earth, but believe me; you are quite capable of doing what is being asked of you for your mission is summed up in one word: love.

In a world that is filled with so much violence, poverty, and indifference, you might shrug your shoulders and say to yourself, “But what difference can I make? How could I possibly change the situation?”

For starters, allow the Spirit to work within you and renew you.  When you follow your conscience against temptation, you are allowing the Spirit to work within you. The world is a better place because one less sin has been committed. When you succeed in getting out of yourself and reaching out to someone, the Spirit is there to empower you. The world is a better place because love was present. When you forgo a pleasurable feeling for a simple joy, you are in the Spirit. The world is a better place because God became real.

In the gospel, Jesus spells out what he expects of us. “If you love me, you will keep my commandments.” Do this and I will give you a helping hand. To enable us to carry out our mission, he assures us that the Spirit will be sent to remind us of what he taught.  Like the Maestro guiding the young boy, the Spirit is there to help us with our obbligato in life:  to love more and sin less than we ever thought possible by transforming us into something powerful and beautiful.

Pentecost isn’t just a celebration of a past event. This feast is also a timely reminder that together with the Spirit, we can renew the face of the earth, each in our own way. Imagine the Spirit whispering in your ears, “Don’t stop! Keep playing! The world needs to hear our song!” Working hand in hand, may we always see ourselves as the community of faith, hope, love and forgiveness that we are called to be.