Fr. Rick Spicer

Our Church celebrates seven sacraments, some once, others a few times, and still others quite often. When we remodeled the church, the windows were repositioned, beginning with the sacraments of initiation: baptism, confirmation, and Eucharist. Then we have the sacraments of vocations: matrimony and Holy Orders. The last two are sacraments of healing: anointing of the sick and reconciliation, which as you can see, points to the reconciliation room in case you’ve wondered where it is.

As a child I recall long lines outside the confessionals as they were called back then prior to Vatican II. Since then, many Catholics have rarely celebrated this sacrament. Face it, no one likes to be reminded of the errors of their ways, but as these readings make clear, there are times when we need to be reminded, redirected, and reconciled.

Reflecting on those who scoff at the value of this sacrament, Pope John Paul I shares the story of Jonathan Swift’s servant. After spending the night at an inn, Swift asked for his boots in the morning and saw that they were dusty. “Why didn’t you clean them?” he asked. “I thought there was no point,” the servant said. “After a few miles on the road, they would be covered in dust again, whatever I do.” “Quite right,” Swift replied, “Now get the horses ready; we’re leaving.”

Soon afterwards, the horses came out of the stable and Swift was ready for the journey. “But, sir, we can’t leave without breakfast!” cried the servant. “There is no point,” Swift said, “After a few miles on the road, you’ll be hungry again!”

The pope noted, “After confession, the soul will grow dirty again, people say. Very likely. But to keep it clean in the meantime can’t fail to be a good idea. Not only because confession takes away the dust of sin, but because it gives us a special strength to avoid it, and makes firmer our friendship with God.”

Remembered fondly as the smiling pope by many, Pope John Paul I offers us sound advice with his illustration. We have been blessed with a sacrament that is neglected by many for any number of reasons. Perhaps, you have a negative memory of a harsh and reprimanding confessor in the distant past or you see no need to bare your soul to another person.

Like any sacrament, reconciliation has its origins in scripture. In dealing with grievances that are bound to arise as they do in any community, Jesus tells his apostles, “Amen, I say to you, whatever you bind on earth, shall be bound in heaven, and whatever you loosed on earth will be loosed in heaven.” With these words, Jesus extended to them and their successors, namely future generations of priests, the power to forgive sins through absolution. A confessor can extend a tangible verbal gesture that the sinner is welcomed back into the community.

The Church is a community of those who believe in the message of Jesus Christ. What Jesus is saying here is that those who refuse to listen to the Church and heeds its teachings no longer belong to the community. In the early Church, anyone who committed a truly grave sin was literally ostracized from participating in the Mass until the prescribed penance was carried out, which allowed that person to be reconciled with the community. The obstinate sinner was considered an outsider until the bishop offered absolution as a sign of forgiveness by God and the community. Even in the first century, sinners were advised, “You shall confess your offenses in church, and shall not come forward to your prayer with a bad conscience.”

God has always seen the need to correct us sinners. Ezekiel was told to warn the house of Israel of their infidelity. The times are no different today. Bishops and priests often challenge their congregations by reminding them of the reality of sin in our midst to the point that we might sound like broken records, yet the bottom line is this: one of us are sinless for long. Like Jonathan Swift’s boots that got dusty again, we are apt to sin sooner than we care to admit even to ourselves, much less to a confessor, but as I noted last week, anytime we sin, someone is bound to be hurt. Sin isn’t about violating laws as it is about violating relationships with ourselves, God and others. That is why Jesus often pointed out the need for reconciliation and Paul stressed that love is the antidote for sin and the motivation behind forgiveness and reconciliation.

Any responsible parent can understand where Ezekiel, Paul, and Jesus are coming from. The love that Paul speaks of is not a puppy love or affection. This love is a matter of the will, not the heart.  What matters is what we want, and ideally we want what is best for our neighbor, just as parents want what is best for their children. Jesus models well the love that Paul has in mind; he acted out of love in all that he said and did. His was a love that could warn and admonish as well as comfort and console. His love could teach and challenge as well as listen and give itself freely for the good of others. In short, Jesus’ love is act, not sentiment, and that is what he calls for in his followers. He tells us to confront the faults of others, that is, the evil in our midst, but when we do, we must act out of love and with love.

We call this a sacrament of healing for good reason. Whenever I celebrate this sacrament as a penitent, I go because I’m hurting. My sin has distanced me from experiencing the fullness of God’s grace and love. I venture into this sacrament, not expecting to be harshly reprimanded but to be healed by words of love from a caring confessor that may enable me to grow closer yet to God. Often he speaks words of wisdom as a penance is prescribed. Best of all, his words of absolution are music to my ears, assuring me that my sin has been “loosed in heaven.” Reconciled with God and with the Church, I’m at peace with myself, knowing that like the prodigal son, I’m back home again.

A flight attendant was moving down the aisle, serving meals to the passengers. “Would you like dinner?” she inquired. One passenger asked, “What are my choices?”  The flight attendant replied, “Yes or no.”

The readings today also allude to choices, reminding us that our lives are impacted by the choices we make. Last week, Peter called Jesus the Messiah, the Son of the Living God. In turn, Jesus called him rock. “You are Peter, and upon this rock, I will build my church.” Now Peter doesn’t like what he is hearing. Popular Jewish piety believed that the Messiah would bring instant glory to Israel in terms of military success, wealth and prosperity. Peter envisioned Jesus becoming a military leader, someone who would liberate their native land from the Romans so he rebukes Jesus for allowing this vision to be suppressed.

In turn, Jesus compares Peter to a stumbling block. “Get behind me, Satan! You are an obstacle to me. You are not thinking not as God does, but as human beings do.”  With this snappy comeback, perhaps Jesus is recalling the third temptation in the desert where the devil had promised him all the kingdoms of the world if he would bow down and worship him.

Instead of giving in to Peter’s dream, Jesus conforms to the will of his Father. As tempting as the easy and broad way of Satan would have been to achieve momentary glory, Jesus knows his mission of taking up the cross would be worth the cost. “What profit would there be for one to gain the whole world and forfeit his life?” he asked Peter.

Jeremiah too struggled with the choice to follow God’s will. He did not conform to the thinking of his age and for this, he was ridiculed. “All the day I am an object of laughter; everyone mocks me.”  Jeremiah is tempted to keep quiet but then he realizes that the truth cannot be ignored.

Paul advises his listeners, “Do not conform yourselves to this age but be transformed by the renewal of your mind so that you may discern what is the will of God, what is good, and pleasing and perfect.”  This can only be done through prayer. For him, a life lived according to God’s will is the most basic form of worship there is.  Yet how often do we consider his advice when we are confronted by peer pressure or when we give advice to someone else? Sometimes we tell people what we think they want to hear instead of honestly sharing our own convictions. Politicians are a prime example of this tendency. 

Jeremiah, Paul, Peter, and Jesus all found themselves standing at crossroads in which they had to decide which way to go: the way of their times or the timeless way of God. They all knew that ultimately the way of God would be the most satisfying yet also the more costly choice to make.

Since that fateful day in the Garden of Eden when Adam and Eve ate of the tree of knowledge, humanity has often tried to redefine morality to its liking.  What God deems immoral, many people consider quite acceptable, such as abortion, euthanasia, pornography, adultery or fornication. The human perspective alone often gets things wrong; that is why Jesus told Peter to reject the world’s way of life and live instead by God’s way.

Whose standards are we using for making the choices either we make or suggest that others make in everyday life? Do we even consider God’s will whenever a moral decision or value judgment has to be made? As Peter discovered, the way we frame our lives, not only our life of faith, but also our everyday life affects the perspective within which we see things.

No matter how convinced we may be that a certain act is not wrong, if that choice is a sin in the sight of God, problems are bound to arise and we or someone else will be hurt sooner or later.  We may mean well by what we say, but our worldly advice could prompt others to say to us, “Get behind me, Satan! You are an obstacle to me! That isn’t how God thinks!”  

In last week’s Gospel, Jesus posed the question to his disciples, “Who do you say I am?”  This time, imagine Jesus standing here and asking, “Who do you think you are?” Like Adam and Eve and countless others since them, do we think we know what is best for us? Or are we willing to ignore the trends of the times and the pressure of our peers and follow instead the will of God who has known all along what is best for us?

Jesus promises us that if we pick up the cross and follow him, he will lead us to life; not only everlasting life in the next world but the fullness of life in this world as well, something that selfishness can never provide.  Years ago, I ran across a poem by an anonymous poet that sums up this point well:

I ask God for strength that I might achieve.

I ask for health, that I might do greater things;

I was given infirmity, that I might do better things.

I asked for riches, that I might be happy;

I was given poverty, that I might be wise…

I asked for power, that I might have the praise of men;

I was given weakness, that I might feel the need of God.

I asked for all things, that I might enjoy life;

I was given life, that I might enjoy all things.

I got nothing I asked for, but everything I hoped for.

Almost despite myself, my unspoken prayers were answered.

I am among all men most richly blessed.”

That poem was found in the pocket of a dead confederate soldier so its language may seem out-dated, but its message, along with today’s readings, remains timeless.
 

Since last winter we have been listening to countless political commercials and debates. The primary election is over but brace yourself, folks, we still have ten more weeks to go until Election Day! Selling of the candidates is what political campaigning is all about from the county council to the White House. Come November 4th, every voter will presumably have a good notion of who the candidates really are and what they stand for.

Professional image makers and marketing experts have long been used to package political candidates in glamorous ways to make them more appealing to voters’ emotions. To win an election, office seekers have to be concerned about their public image as well as campaign issues.

Voters use any number of criteria in deciding whom to vote for in any election. For some, appearances and performance are as important, if not more so, than a candidate’s experience and platform. Recall how close the election was between JFK and Richard Nixon. Some historians speculate had Nixon looked more appealing during the nationally televised debates, he would have won the presidency in 1960. History certainly would have been different had that happened.

In the gospel, Jesus asks a question which suggests that he too may have been worried about his public image. He asked his disciples, “Who do people say that the Son of Man is?” Their feedback sounded like an opinion poll. “Some say John the Baptist, others Elijah, still others Jeremiah or one of the prophets.” Unlike contemporary political candidates, however, Jesus didn’t care what others thought of him. He wanted to know how well his disciples knew him. “But who do you say I am?”

Peter had what could be called an “aha!” moment. “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God!” No human label could completely describe this unusual rabbi from Nazareth. Teacher, carpenter, healer, prophet, and leader; they all fail to fully convey the true meaning of who Jesus is.

Through divine revelation, Peter declared the unthinkable. “You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God!” That is no statement to be taken lightly. Were you to say that to me, I would brush the comment off and invite you to get real. Jesus, on the other hand, commends Peter for his insight. His was the first such public act of faith in history. “Blessed are you, Simon, no mere man has revealed this to you, but my heavenly Father.” Jesus goes on to give him a new name, Peter, which comes from the Aramaic word for rock. “You are Peter and upon this rock I will build my church.” That line underscores our Catholic identity.

What Jesus said to Peter became the building block upon which the leadership of our Church, the papacy, has been anchored, an important tradition that sets us apart from any other Christian denomination. If we are to truly understand him, much less our Catholic heritage and faith, then we too have to personally answer his question, “Who do you say that I am?” A good starting point would be prayer, worship, and reading scripture.

Whether we are in Caesarea Philippi or on south Whidbey Island, we cannot ignore the question. If we confess that Jesus is truly the Son of God, then we must live accordingly. To agree with Peter and at the same time ignore what he and his successors have called on Catholics to do is nothing less than hypocrisy, which is the practice of professing beliefs that one does not own. If we elect to belong to this Church, the church which Jesus founded, then we must respect and heed the leadership of the Holy Father.

We cannot escape the challenge raised by this question. Either we declare his divine nature and accept that which Jesus has given us as the blueprint for following him, passed on to us by Pope Benedict and his predecessors or we don’t, opting instead to ignore his wisdom and theirs, do our own thing, and recognize that we aren’t being fully Catholic if we did so. As the saying goes, actions speak louder than words. By our actions or lack of actions we are in fact answering his question.

Imagine Jesus standing here asking you the same question he posed to his disciples. “Who do you say that I am?” Am I just a nice guy who shared many parables and insights 2000 years ago or do you see me as your redeemer? Was I just another ancient mystic that once walked the hills of Judea or a lunatic that allowed myself to be crucified? Or am I the prince of peace who brings hope, meaning and salvation to your life? What answer would you give to his question? How well do you know Jesus?

Like Peter, do you see Jesus as the Son of the Living God? Many people don’t. Instead, they equate him with other prophets in history like Isaiah, Gandhi or Socrates. None of them ever said, “I am the way, the truth, and the life.” Nor did they say, “Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me.” With Jesus, you cannot be middle-of-the road. Either he is who he claims to be or he isn’t, and if he is, he expects us to follow him on his terms not ours.

What Jesus and political candidates have in common is leadership. Leadership is a sacred trust, not to be taken lightly, either by those who lead or by those who are led. Ten weeks from now, every registered voter will be given the chance to vote. Until then, every candidate will be trying to tell us who they are. Hopefully every voter will seek to know them and thus be well informed before casting their ballots, but many won’t. Failing to vote wisely in any election may or may not affect us personally, but failing to know who Jesus truly is will affect one’s destiny not just for the next four years but for all eternity.
 

Picture the classic movie scene…two lovers rushing toward each other across a field, running with arms outstretched to the moment of embrace…totally unaware of anything else around them. They are focused on only one another. Nothing else matters. Finally they reach each other and joyfully embrace!

Perhaps you have experienced such a moment in your lives. If so, you know the joy that Jesus is attempting to convey with these parables. Nothing else matters so long as I can have the one thing that I value most in life. Such was the case for the farmer and the pearl merchant. Having found the treasure they were seeking, they did whatever they could to be certain that the treasure they found would be theirs.

As with any parable, Jesus is speaking about us. A priest once shared with me on retreat his observation that Jesus was the finder and we are the treasure he wants so badly that he gave up everything he had, including his life on the cross, to insure that we would be forever his.

We are often assured that God loves us unconditionally. When we begin to believe that claim, we will see how much God values us. Anytime we doubt that love, all we need to do is gaze at a crucifix. Jesus could have avoided the cruelest manner of death ever devised had he been more concerned about himself than us, but divine love prevailed. Even in the garden when he knew that he was about to be arrested, he did not waiver in his pursuit of what really mattered to him, sharing God’s gift of salvation with all would come to believe in him.

Nothing was about to stop Jesus from running with arms outstretched toward his loved ones, namely all humanity predestined by God as Paul reminds us in his letter. Are we running toward him with as much focus and love or are we too distracted by so much else going on in our lives?

Being distracted in our relationship with God is not uncommon. That is something many of us contend with daily. Even in the early church that was a challenge. A young monk once asked one of the early desert fathers why so many people came out to the desert to seek God yet most of them gave up after a time and returned to their old ways in the city.

The old monk told him, “Last evening, my dog saw a rabbit running for cover among the bushes of the desert and he began to chase the rabbit, barking loudly. Soon other dogs joined in the chase, barking and running. They ran a great distance and alerted many other dogs. Soon the wilderness was echoing the sounds of their pursuit but the chase went on into the night.

“After awhile, many of the dogs drew tired and dropped out. A few chased the rabbit until the night was nearly over. By morning, only my dog continued the hunt. Do you understand,” the old monk asked, “what I have told you?”

“Not really,” replied the young monk, “Please tell me.” “It is simple,” said the desert father. “My dog saw the rabbit.”

Have we seen for ourselves the immense love Jesus has for us or are we in pursuit of something we have yet to see? If we have yet to see that Jesus truly loves us, then like the dogs on that nocturnal rabbit chase, we could sooner or later lose interest and drop out of the pursuit, which is what many fellow Catholics have done. Ideally, if we have truly seen the treasure that Jesus is, for example, in the Eucharist, then nothing would detract us from embracing him and all that he stands for and all that he calls us to be.

Being human, the devil continually distracts us from seeing all that Jesus is by so many other things in life that command our attention. Through out the day, we select what we think of as treasures. What we choose reflects what we value in life. If our awareness of Jesus is an intellectual one instead of one rooted in our hearts, then we are not so likely to value our relationship with him, much less the wisdom he brings. How readily we value Jesus becomes evident in the ways we live out our faith. The more we do, the more we want to be with him in prayer.

“Ask something of me and I will give it to you,” the Lord promised Solomon, who then asked for an understanding heart to judge his people and distinguish right from wrong. That meant more to Solomon than a long life or riches. Because he asked for wisdom rather than anything for himself, God granted his request. What would our response be if God posed the same question to us? Would we also ask for wisdom? Lew Wallace, the author of Ben Hur, once said, “Pure wisdom always directs itself toward God; the purest wisdom is knowledge of God.”

If the pursuit of the kingdom of heaven is our top priority in life, then we need to seek the wisdom for placing God first in our lives. We begin by asking if we are grateful for what God has given us. if we are, then we would cherish what we have. We wouldn’t be envious, that is, distracted by what we don’t have, nor would we take for granted all that we do have. In turn, our gratitude should prompt us to share what we have, just as Jesus shared all that he is.

Like the old man in the desert, Jesus asks us, “Do you understand all these things?” Hopefully we do. When we see for ourselves how much God embraces us with love, we will know that nothing can keep us from demonstrating our love in return. When we seek to embrace God with all our love, we will be blessed with the wisdom to seek that what really matters in this lifetime: the kingdom of heaven and the life yet to come: embracing his son and his good news as any disciple would, with undivided attention.

Jesus knows the human heart and mind well. He also knows that we usually remember concrete examples better than abstract ideas, so he often used parables to get his message across: stories which we can relate to. However, he also cautions us to look beyond the images for their symbolic meanings.

In today’s parable, Jesus invites us to check our hearts. We should ask ourselves, “Is my heart rich, open, and fertile soil where the word of God takes root, “bears fruit, and yields a hundred or sixty or thirty fold?” Or am I living superficially, looking for material rewards and fleeting pleasures? God’s message needs to penetrate deeply in order to take root in us. But as Jesus points out, God’s seeds can easily bounce off the top of our thick heads unless we really listen to his message.

The Word of God is always the same, conveying a message of love which promises abundant life. Some people unfortunately have so hardened themselves that the word merely bounces off their surfaces. Others respond with immediate enthusiasm that wears thin before long. Still others surround themselves with so much clutter that the Word cannot grow to maturity in them. Finally, some people do what they must to receive the word, allowing themselves to be tilled, weeded, and watered. The receptive person understands God’s word and allows it to take root in his or her heart.

One such receptive person was a 52 year old nurse, a mother of five, named May Lemke. She was asked to care for a baby born blind, mentally retarded, and with cerebral palsy who had been abandoned by his parents. He didn’t respond to sound or touch.

May called him Leslie. As you can imagine, it wasn’t easy to care for this baby. Every day, she massaged Leslie’s entire body. She prayed over him, cried over him, placing his hands in her tears. Raising him was a daily challenge. Leslie was sixteen years old before he was able to stand alone. All this time, he didn’t respond to her. Still, May continued to love him and pray over him. She even told him stories of Jesus, though he didn’t seem to hear her.

One day, May noticed Leslie plucking a taut string on a package. She wondered if he might he be sensitive to music. May began to surround Leslie with music, playing every kind of music imaginable, hoping that one type would appeal to him. She and her husband bought an old used piano. She showed him how to press the keys but he didn’t seem to understand.

Then one night, May woke to the sound of Tchaikovsky’s Piano concerto no. 1. She asked her husband if he had left the radio on. He said no, so they got up to investigate and were astounded to find Leslie sitting at his piano playing the piece by ear. He had never gotten out of bed before, much less, sat at the piano or struck a key on his own. Now he was playing beautifully. May dropped to her knees and prayed, “Thank you, dear God. You didn’t forget Leslie.” Soon, he began to live at the piano, playing classical, country western, ragtime, gospel, and even rock. All the music that May had played for him was stored in his brain and now flowing out through his hands into the piano.

Doctors describe Leslie as an autistic savant, a person who is mentally retarded yet extremely talented. His story figures into our parable in that May Lemke extravagantly sowed and sowed the seeds of her love and her prayers for years with no return. Eventually she saw a harvest. Granted, not much of a harvest in that Leslie was still mentally retarded and unable to speak but still a bountiful one in that he proved to be a musical genius.

Too often, I suspect, we are apt to shrug off our potential to make a difference, yet the seeds we sow can and do. As May Lemke demonstrated so tirelessly, sowing seed is an act of pure faith.

This is where St. Paul comes in. he tells us that the sufferings of the present are not worth comparing to the glory about to be revealed to us. Creation eagerly waits for God’s children to be revealed. To be a Christian is to accept suffering and accept the challenge of the cross, just as May Lemke did. We are urged to let the Word of God take root in our hearts and grow. When it is nurtured by our prayers, and cared for with our charity, the Word of God will grow and make a difference in changing the world.

The dream of a renovated world was dear to the ancient Jews, and to countless peoples since who allowed God’s Word to be rooted in them. Perhaps the idea of her community being free from slavery to corruption is what prompted Rosa Park to refuse to give up her seat on a bus in Birmingham in 1955. Her bold act inspired Martin Luther King to tell our nation that he had a dream that one day his children would be judged by the content of their character and not by the color of their skin. Years later, his vision motivated Lech Walesa, an electrician in Poland to start the Solidarity movement, which led to the collapse of communism.

We could say that this brave woman planted the seed that brought about the downfall of communism decades later.

So, who are you seeding, quietly and effectively? As we leave church today to love and serve the Lord, we go with the intention of making a difference, scattering our seeds of faith, hope and love wherever we can, thus bringing the world ever closer to experiencing the splendor of God. We can plant the seeds of God’s love in what we say and do, seeds that tomorrow’s world will someday harvest. As one teacher said, “Be in love with the sowing. Leave the rest to God.”