2005

This is an incredible parable. Like any good parable, it catches our attention because someone acted unexpectedly. In this case, the vineyard owner gives the same pay to everyone, regardless of how much work that person did. The laborers hired at dawn felt cheated even though they received what was promised when they were hired. Like them, we are inclined to protest, “That’s unfair!”

You might even be thinking this isn’t common sense either. One just doesn’t operate a business that way, paying every employee the same wage, especially if some do nothing more than show up for work before the end of the job shift. To better appreciate where Jesus is coming from, keep in mind that we are made in the image of God, not the other way around. As Isaiah reminds us, God’s thoughts are not our thoughts nor are God’s ways our ways.

With this parable, Jesus is telling his disciples that God has only one reward in store for all who work in the kingdom, whether one has been working all their lives or came aboard at the last moment. The Pharisees were miffed to think that sinners, especially tax collectors and prostitutes, would get the same compensation that they would. Like the laborers who slaved all day, they felt, “That isn’t fair!”

For that matter, how would many life-long Christians feel if they were to meet some scoundrel like Ted Bundy or Adolf Hitler in heaven? I suspect they too would protest, “That isn’t fair!” Faithfully keeping the commandments, being moral and upright in their lifestyles, they might  react in the same way the vineyard workers did if they knew that someone after a life of scandal would receive the same gift. After all, why be virtuous, turn the other cheek, say our prayers, conquer our temptations, and keep the commandments if God will smile just as kindly on gang-members, terrorists, and prostitutes?

If that is your gut reaction, then you need to reflect on your baptism and ask yourself, “What did God promise me?”

In baptism we are promised the gift of heaven. For most of us, baptism happened early in life; so like the laborers hired at dawn, we will find ourselves working all day long. Others will be drawn to the Lord later in life, some even on their deathbed. What matters to God is that they accepted an invitation to find salvation in Jesus Christ through the Church. Instead of being envious, we should be glad that another person found God before it was too late.

This is the deal Jesus presents, and those of us who count ourselves among the faithful had better get used to it.

Notorious sinners who come to Christ on their deathbed after living dissolute, immoral lives have as much opportunity to gain eternal paradise as those of us who go to church, follow the rules, and practice virtuous habits. Is this fair? That really does not matter for God never promised us our form of justice. His is a divine justice linked to divine mercy, and for most of us, whether we appreciate it or not, that will prove to be a very good thing.

Divine generosity is a scandal to people, like the Pharisees, who believe that it should only be granted to those who deserve it. But this is where their reasoning falls short. None of us deserve the generosity of God. Salvation is a gift God freely gives to all who accept it. If we think of heaven as something we deserve, then we will resent those who in our judgement do not. It would be arrogant to think that we have earned our way for heaven is God’s gift to us, not a paycheck for what we have done in this lifetime. What we do, however, is a testimony of what we believe.

God didn’t come into our lives for the purpose of hiring us in the manner that our employers did. Remember, the vineyard owner called the protesting laborer a friend, not a servant or brother. Likewise, Jesus comes into our lives as a friend to offer us the gift of salvation, which will be ours if we are in the vineyard come sundown. That is, if we are in a relationship with God at the hour of our death, which could come when we least expect it.

Instead of acting smugly, presuming that heaven is already ours, we should continually seek to be with God. Turn to God now is Isaiah’s message to us because tomorrow maybe too late. Consider the sacrament of reconciliation if you have need of it, for as Isaiah also points out, our God is generous in forgiving. Commit yourself to regular prayer habits, especially if you have been too busy to spend much time in prayer. Forgive anyone who is waiting on your forgiveness. After all, that is the promise you make each time you say the Lord’s Prayer.

As this parable suggests, God’s uncommon sense of generosity, love and forgiveness often strikes us with an extravagance that violates our sense of “fair play.” Rather than be offended by God’s ways, and fume that someone undeserving could possibly be in heaven with you someday, count yourself fortunate that God’s ways wisely puts love ahead of our notion of common sense and fairness. I recall a poem from years ago that says it well: I dreamt death came to me the other night, and heaven’s gate swung wide.

With kindly grace, the angels ushered me inside. And there to my astonishment, stood folks I’d known on earth, some of whom I had judged as being unfit and of little worth. Indignant words rose to my lips but never were set free, for every face showed stunned surprise. Not one expected me!

Paul takes us to the heart of the Christian message when he told the Romans “Owe nothing to anyone, except to love one another; for the one who loves another has fulfilled the law.” After twenty centuries of practice, you would think that we Christians would be experts at the art of loving. But the truth is, we have much to learn. Throughout his letters, Paul repeatedly talks about love, making the point, as he does here, that there can be no language of “mine” and “thine” in the world of love.

I recall reading years ago about a young man who knocked at the door of a house. A voice from within asked, “Who is it?” The young man said, “It’s me! I’ve come to ask permission to marry your daughter.” The voice from  within said, “Go away! You’re not ready! Come back in a year.” A year later, the young man returned and knocked again. The voice from within asked, “Who is it?” The young man replied, “It’s us. We’ve come to ask your permission to marry.” The voice from within said, “Please come in! Now you are ready!” The language spoken in the realm of true love is “our,” not “mine” or “thine.”

There are basically two kinds of love–selfish love and unselfish love. They may look the same on the surface but they are very different. Selfish love brings death to a relationship while unselfish love generates life. The first time the young man came to ask permission to marry, his love was perceived as selfish by the voice from within. He said, “It’s me!” But a year later, his love was recognized as unselfish for now he could say, “It’s us!”

To deal with the selfish love in our lives, we need the model of God’s love. Many couples speak of their wedding day as the most important day of their lives but I tell them the most important day actually comes later, namely on the day when they recognize the importance of God’s love in their lives. So often, we love others conditionally, that is, with strings attached. I will love you provided you do this or don’t do that. I will love you if I get something in return. But God’s example of love is unconditional love. God loves us period and God invites us to do the same.

The fact is few of us love as God does. Instead, we impose conditions on our relationships and if they are violated or not met, the relationship is jeopardized. More than once, I have heard tales of selfishness in its many forms, from apathy to infidelity, leading to the break up of a marriage or  friendship.

In one of his not so common fables, Aesop illustrates the dangers of selfish love. One day, a lonely unloved child was sitting by a wall when a toad emerged from a nearby cave. To attract the toad, the child spread out a silk scarf on the ground. When the toad saw the scarf, he went back into the cave and soon returned with a little golden crown, which he then dropped on the scarf.

He went back to the cave. On seeing the glittering crown, the child’s eyes lit up. She grabbed the crown and placed it in her pocket. When the toad returned and noticed that the crown was missing, he jumped to his death off the wall. The child did not love the toad. To the contrary, she saw that he had something she wanted and without a thought for the toad’s feelings, she took it.

Such is selfish love. The selfish lover uses the other person for his or her own gain. The attitude, which may be completely unconscious, is “the other person exists for me.” This is not love in the manner that Jesus or Paul speaks of. Sooner or later, selfish love causes the other person to close up and become less able to love in return.

Unselfish love, on the other hand, helps the other person to unfold. Unselfish love does everything in its power, even at the risk of coming across as uncaring, to encourage the other to come out of the cave and share his treasures with the world. Unselfish love has no desire to take possession of those treasures. Instead, the unselfish lover shows an active concern for the happiness, growth and life of the loved one. As the gospel makes clear, that may call for intervention at times. Too often when things are amiss and we are hurt, we keep silent or complain to others. Knowing that isn’t the solution, Jesus tells us that we must set things right not by worsening the situation but by seeking to build a bridge of forgiveness. He provides a good blueprint for us to follow in such circumstances. His plan may seem intimidating or even impossible, but it isn’t if you remember to include Jesus in the endeavor.

Soren Kierkegaard offers food for thought for anyone who thinks broken relationships cannot be mended. He wrote, “Never cease loving a person, and never give up hope for him, for even the prodigal son who had fallen most low, could still be saved; the bitterest enemy and also he who was your friend could again be your friend. Love that has grown cold can kindle again.”

When we give our neighbor a second chance, when we say, “I’m sorry,” when we put the hurt behind us, then we can discover within us a potential for loving and forgiving we never dreamt we had. As one Welsh proverb puts it, “In every pardon, there is love.”

Several naval ships at sea on maneuvers encountered foggy weather. The visibility became so poor that the captain of the battleship remained on the bridge to keep an eye on all the activity. Shortly after sunset, the lookout reported, “Light bearing on the starboard bow, sir.”

“Is it steady or moving astern?” asked the captain. The lookout replied, “Steady, sir.” This meant the ships were on collision course. The captain then shouted to the signalman, “Signal that ship. ‘We are on collision  course. Advise you change course twenty degrees.’ ”

Back came the reply, “Advisable for you to change course 20 degrees.” The captain, by now a bit annoyed, said, “Send this message. ‘I am the captain of a battleship. Change course 20 degrees now!’” Back came the flashing light’s reply, “I’m a seaman second class and this is a lighthouse!” I wonder how the captain felt as he swiftly changed course. Probably no more embarrassed or humiliated than Peter did. As we heard in last week’s gospel, Jesus had called him a rock. Now he is being compared to a stumbling block. “Get behind me, Satan! You are an obstacle to me. You are thinking not as God does but as human beings do.”

In effect, Jesus is telling Peter and us to reject the world’s way of life and live instead by God’s way. We just heard Paul tell 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.” That was the message Pope John Paul often preached during his long pontificate.

The Holy Father was often criticized for not changing his views on contraception, abortion, sexual morality and consumerism. However unwelcome his messages were, Pope John Paul acted as a modern day prophet, reminding us of the need to follow God’s will for our own well being and to ignore the secular values of our times. Being a prophet takes courage, but if the prophets in our midst don’t speak up, our world will no  longer be a safe place.

Do we even consider the question of God’s will whenever we personally make a moral decision or value judgment? If not, by whose standards then do we make our daily choices?

We should give ourselves time and space to become better aware of God’s standards and will. I for one would never claim to be more aware of God’s will then the man whom our Church regards as the vicar of Christ yet many people do, choosing to ignore his prophetic messages. Acting like a lighthouse for us, the pope cannot change the course of God’s ways, while you and I can change ours. The choices we make can us move closer to or away from God. Following God’s will has always been a challenge, perhaps even more so today than ever before. Looking around, we can see ample evidence of a vanishing sense of morality.

The notion that living together before marriage is not wrong is a common attitude shared by engaged couples. The view that adultery, listed in scripture as one of the gravest of sins, is wrong has also faded away. The same could be said for abortion. The desire, unfortunately, for personal pleasure has surpassed commitment in the minds of many.

A nationally known ethicist, asked to teach a graduate course at a prestigious business school, was stunned to discover that he could not present ethical situations to the students because they possessed no moral basis to judge the cases. Their single standard for evaluating was, “Is it profitable?” What is the point of making a profit in this life, Jesus asked, if in the end we lose it all?

Another example that comes to mind was the recent efforts of a prominent senator, who happens to be a doctor, to secure federal funding for stem cell research. Although he recognizes the embryo as a human being, he argued with his colleagues that if parents do not want these unborn fetuses, they should then be used for medical research. On the surface, his idea sounds good, but would you seek treatment for a disease that includes the sacrifice of fellow human beings? Given such a choice, I hope you would say, “Get behind me, Satan, you are trying to make me trip!” More than once, Pope John Paul lamented the loss of objective truth and its universally valid principles of morality. At World Youth Day in 1993, he said, “To educate without a value system based on truth is to abandon young people to moral confusion, personal insecurity and easy manipulation. A serious moral crisis is already affecting the lives of many young people, leaving them adrift, often without hope and conditioned to look only for instant gratification.”

Twelve years later, can we say the situation has improved any? Unfortunately, much of our society still has little sense of morality or ethics. As Catholics, we are challenged by this gospel to understand the meaning of God’s morality, one that, like a lighthouse, has never changed and never will.

By virtue of our baptismal promises, we are called upon to live by God’s standards not human standards. For the bottom line is this: when we reject God’s standards for living morally, we are allowing Satan to dupe us into rejecting God.

What an about face! Six weeks ago we heard Jesus saying in the eleventh chapter of Matthew’s gospel, “Come to me, all you who are weary and find life burdensome, and I will refresh you.” When we are feeling very much alone, this invitation is sweet music to our ears. Others may criticize us, judge us or misunderstand us but Jesus sends the message that we are always welcomed in his midst.

He comes across as one who intimately cares. No wonder, the Canaanite woman came seeking help for her emotionally troubled daughter and yet, at first, Jesus ignored her. The silent treatment makes some sense; after all, the Jews and the Canaanites were enemies. In spite of his snub, the woman persists with her plea, “Help me, Lord!” Now, instead of silence, Jesus puts her down. “It is not right to take the food of the children and throw it to the dogs.” How could the same Jesus, who once said, “Come to me,” have the shameless audacity to liken this woman to a dog? Whatever his motive may have been, this is not the music I imagine she wanted to hear.

Keep in mind that to Jesus and the disciples she was an outsider who would not be expected to understand his role as Messiah. After all, Jesus was there to bring the good news to the people of Israel. No wonder he ignored her at first. Not that he intended to be exclusive but he could reasonably presume that only the Jews would understand and value his presence as Messiah.

Perhaps the Gentiles couldn’t possibly understand what he had to offer yet she did. Unlike most Jews, she recognized him as the Messiah, calling him, “son of David.” Still, Jesus defends his rebuff, saying, “I wasn’t sent for you; I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” But the Canaanite woman was not about to be ignored. Persisting in her plea for help, she is quick with a fitting response after Jesus insults her. “Please, Lord, even the dogs eat the scraps that fall from their master’s tables.” To this, Jesus does an about face. “ O Woman, great is your faith! Let it be done for you as you wish.”

To me, the real scandal of this gospel passage is not the language that Jesus used but the faith of this outsider. Her example of great faith leads me to wonder, “What about us? We are privileged to receive the Eucharist, which is offered every time the Mass is celebrated, yet would Jesus pay us the same compliment, “Great is your faith!” He didn’t say that to the disciples. In fact, he at times rebuked them for having little faith.

The Canaanite woman’s behavior is a reminder that our faith isn’t a given to be taken for granted. What we say and do in our own faith struggle with God can really make a difference not just in our lives but in the lives of others as well. When a guest at a wedding I once witnessed observed that fewer people around here go to church as compared to his hometown in Wisconsin, I told him that the Pacific Northwest was regrettably the most unchurched region of the country. His observation left me wondering, “Have the unchurched led many Catholics to become indifferent about their faith and their relationship with God? Has the Eucharist lost its meaning for many Catholics such that they see nothing wrong with missing Mass anymore? Ideally, it should be the other way around, that the persistent faith of the Christian community would be drawing the unchurched to God.

Sixty years ago, Eli Wiesel was one of the fortunate few to walk out of Dachau, a notorious concentration camp. He spent his life speaking of his experiences. Once in Detroit, he spoke on the subject, “After Auschwitz, Can We Still Believe?” Thin and fragile, Wiesel stood at the podium telling one story after another of the horror and despair of Dachau. Finally the stories ceased. His eyes dropped. There was no sound in the auditorium for what seemed like an agonizing eternity. Then he repeated the question, “After Auschwitz, can we still believe?” He shook his head slowly, “No, no,” he said, “But we must!”

Concerning whether or not to have faith, there is no choice. There was none for the Canaanite woman, none for Eli Wiesel, there is none for you and me. The message of this beautiful mother is “Choose to believe anyway!” You may not feel you are allowed to have faith, but have it anyway. You may not feel God loves you, believe that he does anyway. You may not think you are included but include yourself anyway. After all, even the dogs get the scraps that fall from the master’s table.

Isaiah says that a deep joy is to be expected by those who sustain themselves in prayer. They are the ones whom God calls to the holy mountain. This determined, tenacious, and pushy pagan woman saw in Jesus the very thing her daughter so desperately needed. Her persistence ought to embarrass those of us who are baptized but find ourselves too busy to pray.

I imagine she was hurt, yet she refused to be sent away empty-handed. “Woman, you have great faith!” Jesus told her. Could he say the same thing about us?

The multiplication of the loaves is the only miracle we find in all four gospels. Matthew tells us that, longing for the presence, healing and wisdom of Jesus, the crowds followed him for some distance to a deserted place, where they focused their attention on him, forgetting about their practical and physical needs. Having compassion for them, Jesus healed their sick and most incredibly, with five loaves and two fish, he fed them. They might have gotten their fill had they eaten elsewhere but here they experienced that which makes a meal truly satisfying, the experience of love.

This miracle becomes our miracle story every time we gather to celebrate the Mass. In the Eucharist, God fulfills the promise given in Isaiah of feeding us. “Why spend your money for what is not bread; your wages for what fails to satisfy? Heed me, and you shall eat well, you shall delight in rich fare.” For those who believe in the Real Presence of Jesus Christ in the Eucharist, this indeed can be a satisfying meal despite how few calories one takes in.

But some protest, “This piece of bread, this sip of wine does nothing to me!” If the miracle of the Eucharist has little meaning for you then perhaps you are too focused on something that can’t love you in return. Some of us are so busy with our pursuit of worldly goals and goods that we cannot or do not notice the one being who always has and always will love us unconditionally, namely Jesus Christ. Indulging in the pursuit of happiness is a natural human need, but keep in mind that anything earthly brings only fleeting moments of pleasure.

If the Eucharist leaves you feeling unsatisfied, then I would venture to say something is missing from your life; your awareness that God loves you. But how could that be? Paul begins his letter with a profound question, “What will separate us from the love of Christ?” He tells us that nothing will separate us from the love of Christ. Certainly not anguish, distress, persecution, famine, or nakedness for Paul remains convinced that nothing, not even angels or the future or any one else, not even death will be able to separate us from the love of God.

What a tremendous promise! There is no prison in the world strong enough to keep out God’s love. There is no tragedy in life so great that God’s love can not bring something good of it. There is no trial so shattering that God’s love cannot use it to make us into better persons. That isn’t to say, however, that we couldn’t find ourselves separated from the love of God though our own choice as one woman did.

Deborah sat alone in her apartment on 64th Street. Her apartment building in desperate need of repair from years of neglect was located in an old section of town. She sat motionless, gazing at her Christmas tree, or what was supposed to be her tree. She had found it two years ago abandoned in an alley. The tree was artificial, faded and broken in many places. The ornaments consisted of a few strands of tinsel, a string of colored lights, and a little plastic angel. Deborah got up, made herself a cup of tea and  sat down to play a game of solitaire.

Solitaire was her hobby. She would play for hours, some times forgetting to eat. The cards were bent and faded from many years of use. After a couple of hours of playing, she stood up, yawned, and took another look at her tree. She studied it closely. Funny, she thought, as she eyed the angel. It seems to be smiling. The way the light reflected made it glow, filling the room with human warmth.

The angel’s arms were outstretched as if they wanted to hug Deborah. She sat back down and listened to the outside noises. She then heard faint footsteps, gradually getting louder. She then heard Christmas carols being sung. She saw a handful of change on the table and thought about giving it to the kids. She got up to get the change, then stopped herself, thinking, “If I don’t make any noise, they’ll go away…” She never finished her  thought. A loud crash echoed through the room. Somehow, the angel had fallen off the tree and was now shattered. The angel’s look was now different. The angel was frowning now.

God would be frowning if we weren’t feeling his love. And if we don’t feel God’s love, we have only ourselves to blame. The choice is ours to walk with our God or ignore his love and open arms.

Today’s gospel was especially cherished by the early Church who saw Jesus feeding of the multitudes as the forerunner to the sacrament of the Eucharist. We, too, can perform wonders in our own time and place by imitating those four decisive “Eucharistic” verbs of Jesus: take, bless, break, and give. Namely, taking from what we have, blessing it by offering it to others in God’s spirit of love, breaking it from our own needs and interests for the sake of others, and giving it with joy-filled gratitude to the God who has blessed us with so much.

Christ calls on us to become Eucharistic people, to become the Eucharist we have received for others in our generosity, compassion, and our work for justice and reconciliation. Simply put, the miracle of the Eucharist comes alive for us when we make real the love of God in our simplest acts of kindness, generosity and understanding toward others.