Fr. Rick Spicer

“Gird your loins and light your lamps and be like servants who await their master’s return from a wedding, ready to open immediately when he comes and knocks. Blessed are those servants whom the master finds vigilant on his arrival.” Jesus’ advice to his disciples alludes to the first Passover, mentioned in the first reading, when the Israelites were cautioned to be ready on moment’s notice to leave Egypt for the Promised Land. Early Christians honestly anticipated the return of Christ in their lifetime, thus Luke was urging them to be prepared for the moment when he did.

Faith prompted them to be prepared. The author of our second reading speaks of faith but what does the word mean to you? I imagine we would have many definitions if everyone present shared their personal meanings.

Consider the definition given in Hebrews, clear and to the point, “Faith is the realization of what is hoped for and evidence of things not seen.” That is the only explicit definition of faith found in the Bible. The letter then illustrates its point with the example of Abraham and Sarah, who dared to leave behind the familiar to journey into the unknown.

Consider what Jesus said at the end of his parable, “You also must be prepared, for at an hour you do not expect, the Son of Man will come.” Someday, we too will leave behind what is familiar and venture into the unknown.

With all that is happening in the world today, it might be more exciting to ponder the end of the world, but the odds are we will not be around for that event. Jesus isn’t speaking only of the end times, but also of when time ends for us. We do not know the time, place, or date of our personal end, thus he is urging us to be vigilant until he returns.

In return for being vigilant, the servants will find their master waiting upon them. That sounds like a foretaste of heaven. Jesus is calling on each of us to serve him in this lifetime in preparation for the day when he returns to serve us at the heavenly banquet. Our master’s return will be a glorious day for those who believe in him and have sought to know him through prayer, scripture, and works of mercy. On that day he will acknowledge our service and shower us with love.

We tend to carry on our lives as if we “have all the time in the world.” But we don’t. There are a finite number of days to our earthly lifetimes.  As is noted in the Book of Ecclesiastes, “There is an appointed time in the heavens for every affair …a time to be born and a time to die.” We see people die, some suddenly, others after a long illness and their passing reminds us that life is fragile and fleeting. In all likelihood death will catch us off guard. When that moment arrives, will you be afraid or will you be at peace with yourself? There is no need to fear if we live this life vigilantly.

Without question, the hour of our death will be a significant moment in our lives. The manner in which we will spend eternity depends on where we are with God when we cross the threshold of death. When we truly embrace the spirit of the gospel, we can live our days in joyful anticipation of the life yet to come.

Some people say that if we focus on the afterlife, we neglect this world.  Not so. People who focus on eternity are often the ones who do the most in this world. They see every hour of every day as an hour of the Lord’s coming and knocking. Jesus comes to us in those we meet, in the circumstances of our daily lives, and in the signs of our times. The gospel is an invitation to be more fully alive, more attentive, and more aware that Christ is always in our midst.

Faith is a necessary part of any fully human life. Faith motivates us to live the way shown by God. Faith prompts us to gather for worship. Faith prompts us to live in the manner Christ has taught us. Faith enables us to weather the difficult times and like Abraham, we have all faced them. Faith prompts us to hope in eternal life. Faith provides us with the conviction that heaven is there with all its many blessings even though we haven’t seen it.

Often I close funeral homilies with the hope that we will meet our loved ones again in heaven. Such is the dream we all have when our loved ones have died. That is faith, our conviction in something we have yet to see yet look forward to when the appointed time comes.

The life we want to save is our eternal life but that can’t be done without faith in God who unconditionally loves us. No matter what you and I have done thus far in life or failed to do, no matter what condition we are in now, we can still make a new beginning. With God’s help we can put things in order and be ready when the moment comes that we meet our Lord. May our faith be stronger yet on the day of our Passover to eternal life when we meet God face to face.

There comes a time in everyone’s life when we will take our last breath, leaving behind all our worldly goods. We came into the world owning nothing and we will leave the world owning nothing. On the day of our funeral, we might arrive here in a hearse for the last time, but no U-Haul trailer will be attached to it.

While teaching, a distraught person interrupted Jesus and pleaded, “Teacher, tell my brother to share the inheritance with me.” Instead of acting as a judge, Jesus cautions his listeners, “Take care to guard against all greed for though one may be rich, one’s life does not consist of possessions.” He then shared a parable unique to Luke’s gospel about a rich farmer whom God calls a fool. Jesus didn’t criticize the farmer for being wealthy. That man had worked hard to reap an abundant harvest so he could enjoy his retirement, so why did God call him a fool? His priorities were skewed.

His wealth wasn’t the issue. What mattered is how he handled his assets. He wasn’t generous with his goods. He hoarded all that he had instead of sharing some of it with others.  After bragging about how well off he was, which reveals his self-centeredness, God harshly interjects, “You fool, this night your life will be demanded of you; and the things you have prepared, to whom will they belong?” By the way, this is the only parable in which God speaks up.

I don’t know about you, but I am a fool. While I don’t have barns filled with grains, I do own much more than I need and I need to downsize my goods. The gospel brings to mind a line I heard years ago, “What do I own and what owns me?” For too long, I ignored the advice Jesus gives, not realizing how much my possessions owned me.

Wealth and possessions can maintain our lifestyle but they cannot guarantee our lives. Someday we will take our last breath, no matter how rich we are materially. Will God call us fools for what we have done with our assets?

How can we avoid being called fools? I have a few suggestions worth considering. First, share your bounty with those who are less fortunate than you are. Raid your pantry and donate something to our 3 P’s bins. When you come to Mass, bring a protein product, a personal hygiene product, or a paper product that will be donated to Good Cheer.

Second, tithe. The Bible urges us to give ten percent to charity and to your parish. That is one dime for every dollar you earn. Think of how generous God has been to you. Tithing is our means of thanking God.

Third, compare your giving to charity with your other spending habits, such as the money spent on entertainment, dining out, grooming, hobbies, clothes and so on. How does what you put in the collection basket compare to what you casually spend when you eat out?

Fourth, go through your closet and drawers from time to time and consider giving away clothes and shoes that you haven’t worn in over a year.

Fifth, form the habit of asking yourself, “Do I really need that? Can I do without it? Some of us buy much more than we need or can use, so while our barns are not overflowing with grains, we rent storage units to hide our excess. The rise of inflation prompts some of us to curb our spending.

Sayings that advise against greed abound in the Bible as well as in other ancient literature. Greed has been a human problem many have struggled with since the start of history.  Listed as one of the seven capital sins, greed is an inordinate longing for material wealth while disregarding the needs and rights of others.  The antidote for this capital sin is self-giving, which helps us to grow rich in the sight of God. What matters to God are not our assets, but our attitude.  Are we grateful and generous?

All three readings are about detachment from the things of this passing world, things we can’t take with us. The rich man in the parable acted as though he was going to live forever. He failed to realize that what counts when we stand before God is not our wealth or assets but the person we become in the process of living this life. Greed cut him off from God and others.

If you think this parable doesn’t apply to you because you aren’t rich, keep in mind that Jesus was teaching people who were likely poorer than us. Greed can plague anyone of us. After all, one of the first words we learned to speak is “mine!”

We are called to share what we have, trusting that God will provide us with what is really matters in life: love.

As I said, the man in the parable wasn’t rebuked for being rich. He made the mistake of keeping it all for himself, building new barns to hoard his abundant crops to live well. If only he had stop to ponder, “Do I need all this? Not really. I ought to share my surplus with others.” Then God would have said, “Well done, good and faithful servant! Now you are rich in what really matters.”

The opening line of today’s gospel brings to mind an incident that happened to me 35 years ago on a hot muggy summer afternoon in South Dakota. My friend, Fr. Jay and I were visiting his sister, Joan. He arranged for two friends to meet us there; one was a classmate from Wisconsin, the other a Baptist minister living in Dallas, Texas.

While we were chatting, the doorbell rang. Excusing herself, Joan got up to see who was there. Soon we heard her moan, “Give me a break! I have three Catholic priests and a Baptist minister in my living room!” When she returned, Fr. Jay asked her what the commotion was all about. She muttered, “ Two Jehovah’s witnesses!” 

Don’t fret. I have no intention of appointing any of you to leave here after Mass in pairs to proclaim the merits of our Catholic faith to the local community, certainly not, with the instructions that Jesus laid down, carrying no money bag, sack, or sandals.  Unlike some religious cults, going from house to house in pairs has not been a tradition in our Church, certainly not here in this country.

Nonetheless, the mission of spreading the Good News, known as evangelization, is entrusted to all of us, not just the ordained. At the end of every Mass, you are sent forth to proclaim the good news of Jesus Christ by conveying his peace to others. Sometimes the celebrant says, “The Mass is ended, go in peace to love and serve the Lord.”

Peace comes from knowing that God loves you. Peace comes from knowing that Jesus died for our sins. Peace comes from knowing that when all is said and done, the right relationship with Jesus is what matters. Peace comes from knowing that Jesus desires us to be with him now and forever.

We should embrace the gospel message of peace with our whole being. Take to heart the advice you hear. It is not simply a document to be listened to at Mass and admired. The gospel should be as profound to us, if not more so, than the Declaration of Independence.

Embracing the gospel involves making Jesus the Lord of our lives, entering into a personal and intimate relationship with him.  For some of us, the notion of totally surrendering to Jesus seems so farfetched given that we are accustomed to doing as we please here and now. Yet if he is our lord, then we are his servants, willing to be his disciples and share the Good News by what we say and do.

Embracing the gospels compels us to work for the coming of the kingdom, which is the goal of evangelization. Sometimes we lose sight of why we have religion in our lives. Many Christians view religion only as the means of getting to heaven by following its rules and regulations. Paul points out however that what matters in our relationship with God is not the observance of ritual requisites but our willingness to be created anew.

We become a new creation when we allow Jesus to become real in our lives. When that happens, we would want to do what the seventy-two disciples did. Go forth and share the good news that the gospel is relevant and can make a real difference in our lives and our world.

The seventy-two brought the good news to those in their immediate world. They conveyed the message that Jesus was transforming the world. They showed that evil was defeated by curing the sick and expelling demons. When they returned filled with joy, Jesus rejoiced with them.

We are the seventy-two today, sent forth at the end of Mass to proclaim the good news that Jesus Christ has conquered evil. So how is Jesus expecting us to do that? For starters, we expel the evil of selfishness with generosity. We expel the demon of loneliness with hospitality.

So often we think of the kingdom of God as something in the distant future, but the kingdom happens here and now when we strive to be God’s instruments of peace and hope.  Jesus said, “Into whatever house you enter, first say, ‘Peace to this household.’” Work quietly, realizing that even the smallest act of forgiveness can make a difference in the lives of at least two people: you and the person you are forgiving; or you and the person seeking to forgive you.

Any act of forgiveness is a significant step toward building peace. Like the stones dropped into a pool, its effects will ripple beyond our sight. Forgiveness is the best form of love. It takes a strong person to apologize and an even stronger person to forgive.

In the beatitudes Jesus tells his listeners, “Blessed are the peacemakers.” He didn’t say peace lovers. Those who dare to make peace are the ones who make a difference. They are the ones who quietly evangelize the world around them, making Jesus very real not only for themselves but for others as well.  By doing this, they are the ones who are blessed; the ones who will find their names written in heaven.

We encountered Jesus setting out on his final journey from Galilee to Jerusalem. He knew what was in store for him yet he resolutely was determined to follow the will of his Father and not deviate from carrying out this mission.

On the way Jesus and the disciples entered a Samaritan village where they were not welcomed. In response, James and John wanted to call down fire from heaven. Their reaction makes sense. The animosity between the Samaritans and the Jews was intense. Their divisiveness compares to what we are experiencing in our country on issues like gun control and abortion that will likely continue to for years to come. Jesus rebuked them for their response, since that wouldn’t help to build God’s kingdom.

Life is full of many journeys. Most of them are round trips, such as going down to the store to buy groceries. Some journeys are trips elsewhere, such as my recent trip to Ocean Shores. I left last Sunday and was back home on Thursday to familiar comfortable surroundings.

But some times we set out on one-way journeys, leaving behind what is familiar to venture to something new, just as Elisha did when he bade farewell to his family and followed Elijah. We move from one place to another. I suspect nearly everyone here moved here to Whidbey from elsewhere. As an army brat, I undertook many one-way trips until my family eventually settled here in Washington.

The return to one’s home and place of comfort and security is never guaranteed. Sooner or later, our last trip becomes a one-way journey that takes us across the threshold leading us to eternity in heaven or hell. Where we ultimately end up depends on how readily we heed Jesus’ directives for building the kingdom of God here and now. In other words, how willing are we to be one of his disciples?

The readings, especially the Gospel, demonstrate the cost of discipleship. Few of us will ever pay the price of martyrdom for being Christian but we are expected to live in a certain way that reflects following Jesus on our journey to eternal life. Is doing that our priority in life? What matters most to us? Is it our final destination of eternal life or the current milieu that impacts our present lives?

Whenever anyone is baptized into the Catholic faith, that person is clothed with a garment and told, “See in this white garment the outward sign of your Christian dignity….bring that dignity unstained into the everlasting life of heaven.” That is the challenge Jesus gives us, urging us to strive for holiness in the midst of the many temptations that arise.

Such is the call to discipleship. The disciple’s life is not easy. Following Jesus requires everything. The disciple may have to put aside the values of his culture and sometimes even his notion of religion to accept Jesus’ teachings. We are called to be saints and to do our part toward building the kingdom of God. It is up to us to discern how to best use our gifts and talents for doing that. But as Luke points out in the gospel, not everyone is willing to do so. We may have other priorities or values that distract us from following Jesus.

Long ago I misplaced the gift a friend in my previous parish gave me. It was a circular piece of wood the size of a silver dollar that was inscribed with the number 2 and the word “it.” Seeing the puzzled look on my face, she said, “Well, Father, you keep saying that you’ll get something done when you get a round to it!”

Wasn’t that the excuse Jesus heard in today’s gospel? One potential disciple said, “Lord, let me go first and bury my father.” Chances are his father was very much alive, so the potential disciple was really saying, “Lord, I will follow you when I get around to it.”

As you can see by the décor of green, we are back in ordinary time.  The Sundays of the year are numbered unless we are celebrating a special feast, such as Corpus Christi, which was last Sunday. The numbered weeks are a reminder that time moves on.

Speaking of time, sometimes we are told to live today as if this is your last day. Perhaps it will be. Most of us think that there will always be tomorrow, manana  as they say in Spanish, so we put off until tomorrow what we need to do today.

Jesus is inviting us to follow him, not tomorrow but today. Are we willing to say that we will follow him wherever he goes, learning to fashion lives that are holy and hearts that are true? Are we willing to forsake what attracts our attention now to follow him or will we be like those in the gospel who missed the point of discipleship and were left behind?

The gospel concludes with a harsh warning that like Jesus, we must resolve to keep moving ahead on our faith journey with him and not other gods that detract us from being holy.

Christ is our ultimate authority in this life if we want to experience eternal life with him. He invites us to venture through this life with him. “Come follow me.” When we take his call of discipleship to heart, we have much to gain and little to lose, for by walking with him, Jesus is promising us the journey of a lifetime!

Whenever we listen to the scriptures, we are presented with revelations about God and challenged to ask ourselves some hard, difficult and direct questions.

In today’s Gospel, we again encounter Jesus speaking to the crowds about the kingdom of God. Last week I noted that he often challenges us to build the kingdom of God. We should ask ourselves, “How am I building God’s kingdom? Or am I an obstacle to the Kingdom of God happening in my time and place?”

After speaking about the kingdom of God and healing those who needed to be cured, Jesus then fed the crowds. He followed his liturgy of the word with a liturgy of the Eucharist. This feast isn’t just about the Eucharist; it is also about the community that gathers to celebrate the Eucharist.

Instead of bringing people together, jealousy and prejudice can prompt us to exclude certain people at times. For example, Monday is a new holiday celebrating Juneteenth Day. The date, June 19, 1865, commemorates the end of slavery in our country. Slaves were free but racism persists. Racists will claim that their race is superior to others. 

Sexism is another example of exclusion.  Laws and conduct will reward one sexual orientation or gender but not the other. Many years passed before women had the right to vote, much less hold political office. Sadly these games of inclusion and exclusion are played out in church life too.

On this feast, which celebrates our opportunity to receive the Body and Blood of Christ, I am mindful of how the game of exclusion also happens with the Eucharist in some places. Statements are written, words are spoken, and actions are taken to say who can and who cannot receive the Eucharist.

Recently, some bishops have voiced their concern whether certain people should be allowed to receive communion. They have instructed parishes to refuse Communion to pro-choice politicians or those who favor other social stances contrary to the teachings of our Catholic faith.

The question of who should and who should not receive Communion has been an issue off and on through the years. Our archbishops have never instructed us to refuse this sacrament to anyone. As a celebrant, it is not my intent to refuse anyone who comes forward in a respectful and reverent manner to receive communion. Pope Francis has said that he has never refused communion to anyone, pointing out that the Eucharist is bread for sinners, not a reward for saints.

Church law states that a Catholic who is conscious of grave sin should not receive Communion without first going to confession, unless there is no chance to do so. The Church recognizes that it is for each individual to examine his or her conscience in this regard. I assume that those who come forward to receive the Body and Blood of Christ have done so and honestly believe they are not in a state of grave sin.

Pope Francis has said much during his years as our pope but perhaps his most famous line is, “Who am I to judge?” No person is capable of judging someone else’s relationship with God.  Before receiving Communion, we pray, “Lord, I am not worthy that you should come under my roof, but only say the word and my soul shall be healed.” We never say, “My neighbor is not worthy.” When you stop to think about it, none of us is worthy, but we pray we are made worthy to receive our Lord.

When you come forth to receive the Eucharist, you hear the words, “The body of Christ,” To which, every communicant is expected to bow slightly then say, “Amen,” which means, “I believe.”  If you do not believe that what is being offered to you is the Lord himself, then the Church asks that you refrain from receiving communion. Instead, ponder what hinders you from believing what Jesus said at the Last Supper. In the earliest written account we have, Paul told us, “…that the Lord Jesus, on the night he was handed over, took bread, and after he had given thanks, broke it and said, This is my body, that is for you. Do this in remembrance of me.”

These words lie at the heart of our Catholic faith. We have been doing that for 20 centuries, allowing the Eucharist to nourish our spiritual being. Just as Jesus used bread to feed the crowd then, he uses bread that is consecrated to feed us still, enabling us to build the kingdom of God by what we say and do.

The words said at the Last Supper, echoed at every Mass, speak of our unity with Christ and with one another. That nourishment empowers us to go forth and announce God’s love for the world, recognizing that there must be no room in our hearts to exclude others from our lives or our faith community. Rather, we are to be inclusive, just as Jesus was when he fed the crowds.

On this feast of Corpus Christi, we are reminded that the miracle of the Eucharist, the body and blood of our Lord Jesus, is meant to be a sign of unity, not of discord.