2008

A preacher once gave an interesting sermon on the theology of divine election. “The divine election is an election by a majority vote. There are three who are voting; God, the devil, and you. You know what side God will vote on, and you know the devil will vote on the opposite side. Thus, your vote will decide whether you go to heaven or hell.” In the parable, Jesus makes that point as well, observing that many guests flatly refused to come to the banquet, some in rather far fetched ways, I might add.

That was his way of noting that many people, like his critics and fellow Jews, were too busy with their own agendas to find much time for God in their lives. In place of the litanies we heard, we could substitute our own. “Sunday is my one chance to sleep in.” “I can’t get the kids moving in time.” “I don’t like the music or the homilies.” “The Mass isn’t entertaining enough.” “I don’t feel welcomed.” “I’ve been planning this fishing trip for weeks.”

What catches my attention is not how the would-be guests acted but how the king treats the one guest who comes improperly dressed for the occasion. “My friend, how is it that you came in here without a wedding garment?” The guest was reduced to silence, so the king had him thrown outside. Isn’t he being a bit harsh? Not really. The expelled guest knew the rules; to be at the banquet, he had to come properly attired. In those days, if a guest arrived ill-clad, the host would offer a wedding garment so he could don such a garment but this guest chose not to. If this scenario sounds odd, trying dining at some fancy restaurant that requires a coat and tie. If you have neither, the maitre d’ makes sure you are properly attired.

What was so important about this garment? As the saying goes, clothes make the man. In our case, when we were baptized, we were “clothed in Christ.” We were told, “See in this white garment the outward sign of your Christian dignity. With your family and friends to help you by word and example, bring that dignity unstained into the everlasting life of heaven.” That is our mission. Clothing ourselves with Christ signifies conversion on our part, saying ‘no’ to a life of sin and ‘yes’ to God’s way of living. Such was the life we were voting for when we were baptized.

As the parable suggests, God is a generous host who opened his heavenly feast to all peoples, the bad and the good alike, when the chosen people of Israel declined to attend, but Jesus cautions that this invitation must be accepted on God’s terms. Saying “yes” to the promises we made at our baptism isn’t enough. Just as the king prepared for the banquet, so must the guests. If we expect to remain seated at the heavenly banquet, then we must remain clothed in Christ, that is, we must live by the values Jesus repeatedly proclaims throughout the gospels and continues to proclaim to us through the Church to this day.

Are we listening attentively to God’s word given to us in scripture and elaborated by the teachings of the Church? Are we applying its lessons in our daily lives or, like the expelled guest, are we refusing to abide by God’s expectations of his guests? In other words, do the choices we make and the values we hold suggest that we are voting with God or with the devil?

I once thought that every Catholic knew the Ten Commandments but I learned long ago that isn’t true. No wonder then that the moral attitude of many Catholics has been as varied as the buffet table at any wedding reception. Many Catholics unfortunately ignore certain moral principles because they disagree with them oftentimes without understanding God’s rationale behind them. Those who choose to ignore God’s rules might experience the same fate as the expelled guest. Like him, they may be expecting to feast at the banquet but, as this parable warns, they may find themselves “grinding their teeth” and wondering what went wrong.

It is one thing to be ignorant; it’s another to ignore. Recall what happened to the guest who ignored the rule. We cannot expect to experience the kingdom when we ignore the promises we made at baptism, to reject Satan, and all his works, and all his empty promises. When we sin, we are staining the garment given to us at baptism, the garment of goodness, truth, and love. The unwelcome guest was booted out because he chose not to clothe himself appropriately. Might we be doing the same? Are we ignoring the many opportunities we have to live God’s will? Our everyday living is not inconsequential. Even the little things we do help us to either put on or take off our garment.

If we arrive at the pearly gates without being properly attired, will we have anything to say in our defense or will we, like the banished guest, be reduced to silence? Dare we claim ignorance of God’s moral law as our excuse for making moral choices God condemns? Dare we pass up opportunities for reconciliation with God and neighbor and still be able to defend ourselves? Or will we be left speechless? If the choices we make now hinder us from a deeper loving relationship with God, then the devil could very well get our deciding vote by default as to where we will spend eternity.

Dante, the author of the Divine Comedy, wrote, “If you insist on having your own way, you will get it. Hell is the enjoyment of your own way forever. If you really want God’s way with you, you will get it in heaven, and the pains of purgatory will not deter you, they will be welcomed as means to that end.”

God looks forward to welcoming us to his son’s wedding feast. The choice to be seated at this banquet is ours to make but God will spot the unrepentant sinner or lukewarm believer. Our actions and values each day reveal the vote we ultimately will cast that forever decides our eternal destiny, a vote much more important than the one we will cast on Election Day.
 

Parables are timeless tools Jesus uses to get his message across. Though full of violence, this parable is no different; just look at today’s headlines. Few of us are violent, certainly not in the manner we just heard, people killing, beating and stoning yet sadly, violence does color the world we live in. Nations, peoples, individuals, even kids, routinely hurt, maim, and kill. In this graphic manner, Jesus cautions that the kingdom of God will be taken away from those who have no respect for the son of God.

Historically, our world has been divided into “us” and “them.” In the parable, we had the tenants and the servants. Now “us and them” could be described as blacks and whites, Muslims and Jews, gays and straights, the haves and have-nots, to name but a few. One doesn’t have to go far to find division. Even within our minds, we have a tug of war going on. Our “tenants” are those beliefs, habits, and attitudes that dupe us into rejecting the call of the servants, modern day prophets, who urge us to respect the son of God and his message. The tenants’ final act of defiance in killing the son alludes to our personal rejection of Christ, which happens whenever we commit a mortal sin.

When we are influenced more by the secularism of our culture than the teachings of our Church, we do not see the act we or others commit as anything immoral or wrong. Instead, we rationalize that certain sinful acts and values are harmless, when in fact, they are not.

Every sin causes harm and hurt.  History is full of examples where we have chosen not to respect life. Genocidal slaughter based on ethnic or religious differences have touched just about every culture and every land, including ours. But the destruction doesn’t stop there. We must not ignore the cold-blooded killings by teens, patients committing suicide with the help of doctors, prisoners who have been tortured or executed, fetuses destroyed by abortion or infanticide, or addictive behaviors like pornography that undermine the dignity of the human person.

Our culture claims these values are acceptable. Many who find them offensive and immoral have chosen to remain silent on the matter or feel that “the choice is that person’s right.”  Such silence doesn’t make the evil disappear as one German ruefully observed years ago, “In Germany they came first for the Communists, and I didn’t speak up because I wasn’t a Communist. Then they came for the Jews, and I didn’t speak up because I wasn’t a Jew. Then they came for the trade unionists, and I didn’t speak up because I wasn’t a trade unionist. Then they came for the Catholics, and I didn’t speak up because I was a Protestant. Then they came for me, and by that time no one was left to speak up.”

The immorality, the violence and the legitimized killings are so common place that they may seem beyond our control. So, we reason, as did many Germans during the reign of Adolf Hitler, we have neither the power nor the responsibility to change things. Yet as Edmund Burke, an English philosopher, observed, all it takes for evil to triumph is for good people to do nothing.

Pope Benedict XVI observed the divisive nature of culture on his recent trip to our country when he said, “The subtle influence of secularism can color the way people allow their faith to influence their behavior. Is it consistent to profess our beliefs in church on Sunday, and then during the week to promote business practices or medical procedures contrary to those beliefs? Is it consistent for practicing Catholics to ignore or exploit the poor and the marginalized, to promote sexual behavior contrary to Catholic moral teaching, or to adopt positions that contradict the right to life of every human being from conception to natural death?”

The obvious answer is no. Pope John Paul II cautioned, “For many people the difference between good and evil is determined by the opinion of the majority…” He added, “The choice in favor of life is not a private option but a basic demand of a just and moral society.” To respect life, there must be a reawakening in our hearts to really know and live the gospel of Jesus Christ.  Such an intimate understanding emerges through daily prayer, study and attentive reflection.

Jesus told us, “The stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone.”  Any contractor knows that a building without a cornerstone will eventually collapse. Raising his son from the dead, God offers us Jesus as the cornerstone of our faith. If this is what we profess, then he must supplant the false beliefs, habits, and attitudes which the wicked “tenants” of our secular culture promote.  When we know Jesus and his message, his voice stands out from the rest of the world.

A Chinese lad, who wanted to learn how to make jade into beautiful objects, went to a master who placed a piece of jade in the boy’s hands, then sat there chatting about his wife, his job, his children, and so on. All the while, the boy patiently felt the jade. This continued for several weeks, until one day, without warning, the master placed a stone in the boy’s hands. “Hey! This isn’t jade!” the boy cried. He had learned the feel of jade. Likewise, if we are to truly respect life and experience the kingdomGod, we need to know the real Jesus.  Those who have made Jesus the cornerstone of their faith truly know the peace of God in the midst of a violent world.

I learned long ago never to judge a book by its cover.  Publishers often make books with poor plots look enticing with attractive covers and hide the best plots behind dull covers.  What we find may not always match our expectations. The same can be said about people.

With this parable, Jesus demonstrates that he has little respect for those who put on airs of holiness if in their hearts, they had little regard for what really matters to God. By contrasting the actions of the two sons, neither of whom were ideal, he compares the chief priests and the elders with the public sinners in their midst.

Human nature hasn’t changed much since then. Like the wayward son, many of us nowadays say yes in words but no in deeds or lack of deeds. Perhaps we can fool others or ourselves into thinking we are faithful Catholics, appearing to others to be religious while holding on to practices and values that are anything but Christian, but we cannot fool God, no matter what sort of argument we may contrive.

The second son looks good on the outside.  He gives his word to his father but he doesn’t follow through. Perhaps he sees no wrong in ignoring what his father asked of him. His brother, on the other hand, made a scene, refusing at first to honor his father.  Later he regrets what he did, changes his mind and goes to work in the vineyard.

This parable is a good example of saying “actions speak louder than words.” Having shared the parable, Jesus asked a probing question.  “Which of the two did his father’s will?”  The obvious answer to the chief priests and elders is the son who ultimately did what his father asked of him.

Whom do we relate to in the parable? Do we see ourselves in the sandals of the son who was quick to say yes, yet had no intention of obeying his father? That is, do we see ourselves as being quick to believe in Jesus yet not so inclined to do what he asks of us?  Or do we see ourselves in the sandals of the other son, initially protesting all that God asks of us, but finally seeing that a change of heart and attitude enables us to experience what Jesus means when he speaks of entering the kingdom of God.

Many Catholics remind me of the wayward son; they’re selective with what they want to believe and practice. Two good examples would be Catholic politicians who publicly favor pro-choice legislation and voters who support the practice of euthanasia despite what the Church says on these matters. They have redefined the Church to fit their needs, instead of defining their values to follow the teachings of Jesus Christ.   Perhaps, like the ancient Israelites they feel, “The Lord’s way is not fair!” The issue isn’t fairness. When we ignore certain dogma and morals to suit our whims, we create a church that ceases to be Catholic, and cannot bring us to the kingdom of God that Jesus promises to his followers.

Sometimes we justify a sin or an immoral choice by saying, “It doesn’t hurt anybody.” The truth is, we just don’t know how much harm we are doing. The only reason, God, our Father, gives us laws is to tell us what does in fact hurt people, whether we know it or not. If we don’t take God’s word for it, we will learn the hard way and someone will suffer from our actions. Some things are wrong not because they do harm every time but because they are dangerous.

God hopes we will learn that being self-centered leaves us feeling empty.  Like the repentant son, we can change our minds, our values, our way of life and allow our attitudes to become, as Paul urges, like that of Christ.  Unlike the chief priests, that is what the prostitutes and the tax collectors whom Jesus associated with did.  They followed the example of the repentant son and changed their lives.

Speaking of change, we claim that leopards can’t change their spots and that old dogs can’t be taught new tricks. We usually say these things in jest because we don’t really think change can happen or that very few people do change. With this parable, Jesus challenges that mindset.  His message is simple: we can change if we want to. When we see that doing the Father’s will can make a positive difference in our lives, then change is more likely to happen.

Unless we do what the Father asks of us, we cannot enter the kingdom of God, any more than we can bake a cake without following the recipe. That means changing our priorities and making space in our busy lives for God.  Consider how much time you spend each day in prayer. Is God important enough to merit any of your precious time beyond a few fleeting minutes?  What shapes our relationship with God, the church, and others in our lives are the priorities we set for ourselves.  If our attitude is honestly centered on Christ, we would then see the value of what God continually is asking of us through his Son and through the Church. Make time for God daily by taking time to pray.

To be redeemed by Christ, we must be like Christ. Look to others’ interests rather than our own. Put your faith in Jesus and see him as the way to holiness.  By living in Christ and like Christ, we can pass from the tragedy of sin to the joy and peace that God promises us in his kingdom.  The tax collectors and prostitutes got the message and changed their lives and so can we.
 

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.