2008

Since it falls on Sunday, the feast of Saints Peter and Paul takes precedence over what would have been the Thirteenth Sunday of Ordinary Time. This provides an opportunity for us to reflect upon the two most dynamic saints of the early Church.

It would be hard for us to find two more different individuals. As best as we can tell, Peter was a common worker, a fisherman, a man with no formal education, possibly even illiterate. He responded to Jesus’ call to follow him, only to stumble his way through the Lord’s public life, and beyond. Peter recognized that Jesus was the Messiah and professed his faith to the Lord, “You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God.”

He had faith enough to walk on water to meet Jesus on the Sea of Galilee, but when he thought about what he was doing, he focused on himself instead of on Jesus and began to drown. That’s why Jesus chided him as one of little faith.

At the Last Supper, Jesus washed the feet of the disciples, to point out that just as he would humble himself to serve others, they should do the same. When Jesus got to him, Peter said, “You will not wash my feet.” Jesus replied, “Then, you will have no part of me.” Peter then said, “In that case, Lord, wash my feet, my head, hands and body.” I can imagine Jesus saying, “Cool it, Peter,” as he proceeded to wash Peter’s feet.

Later in the meal Peter boasted that he would never lose faith in Jesus and Jesus predicted that before the cock crowed, that Peter would deny him three times. And as we know, Peter denied knowing the Lord three times after Jesus was arrested.

But Peter also reaffirmed his faith in Jesus three times after the resurrection. The Resurrected Jesus asked him, “Do you love me, Simon Peter?” And three times, Peter replied, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.” And each time, Jesus instructed him,
“Then feed my sheep.”

Peter assumed the leadership of the other disciples conferred on him by the Lord, but he was dressed down by Paul when he started treating Jewish Christians as being better than those who had been gentiles. Peter was so very human. Even after Pentecost, he still could let his humanity get the worst of him.

Nonetheless, Peter was determined to spread the faith. He traveled to Rome, the center of the world then, where he became the first bishop of Rome. Because Jesus placed Peter over all the other disciples, those who succeed him as Bishop of Rome also receive his spirit, his grace, his charism. The successor of Peter is the Pope because the Pope is the Bishop of Rome.

Paul could not have differed more than Peter if he tried. An educated man, he studied at the feet of the great Hebrew scholar Gamaliel. Physically, Paul was a small man. His name was changed from Saul of Tarsus to Paul as a bit of a joke. Paul or Paulus means small in Latin. He was small, but he was a dynamo. He was one of those Pharisees who did everything possible to destroy the followers of Jesus. He was present when the first martyr, Stephen, was stoned to death. He went on raids, arresting Christians wherever he could find them, turning them into the Jewish authorities who would imprison or kill them.

One day Jesus called Paul as he was traveling to Damascus. “Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?” The blinding light knocked him to the ground. Paul certainly was knocked for a loop when the vision of the Lord told him that instead of serving God, he was fighting the will of the Almighty. After his conversion, Paul was equally determined to spread the Good News of Jesus Christ, traveling throughout the Roman Empire, writing Letters to the infant churches, and ultimately sacrificing his life for the Kingdom of God.

We celebrate the lives of two very different saints, one a large and ignorant fisherman, the other a small and educated scholar, yet very similar saints in that they were both determined to live and die for the Kingdom of God even if this meant making radical changes and sacrifices in their lives, which they both did.

There is some Peter and some Paul in each one of us. We all harbor some of their inadequacies. Each of us also enjoys some of their strength. On the negative side, all of us tend to bungle through life much like Peter did, making great promises, taking great oaths, and then backing down when the situation becomes too tough or too demanding. How many times have we all, myself included, compromised standing for the Lord in order to avoid being mocked by others? Sometimes we go through life like the firestorm that was Saul of Tarsus, convinced that our view of the world is correct, thus willing to destroy anyone who disagrees with us, only to realize, as Paul did after his conversion, that “Nothing is greater than love.”

Many of the good qualities found in Peter and Paul can be found in each of us. Serious about our Christianity, we all have summoned from within ourselves the muscle of Peter and intellect of Paul to serve Jesus in whatever way he calls us.
When we set our minds to living for the Lord, as Peter and Paul did, others will hear his presence calling to them from within us. That is how the Kingdom of God has spread from Peter’s fishing nets and Paul’s Hebrew studies to Rome and beyond. It is the Holy Spirit, the dynamic presence of God, within you and me that continues to make the Church a living reality in the world.

Keep the faith. Live the faith. Share the faith. Such is the legacy both Peter and Paul leave to us. Such is the legacy we, the baptized, must pass on to future generations.
 

I will never forget my first midterm exam in the seminary; the subject was moral theology. Despite the hours of study, my mind went blank. I froze. What in the world did I get myself into? I soon learned that was the first of many “trials” to come.

Like any seminarian, I had many bouts of fears and doubts, wrestling with the usual issues of celibacy, ministry, and prayer. Could I accept the notion of being single for the rest of my life? Could I bring myself to proclaim the gospel from the housetops? Or would I be intimidated by what others thought or by what I thought of myself? I was enthused about becoming a priest, yet I would not deny that fear was present in my journey toward ordination. Fear is definitely a part of our human experience.

In this gospel, Jesus advises us, “Fear no one.” He cautions his disciples to resist those anxieties that are caused not by an actual threat to their safety, but by a potential threat in the future; that nagging fear which can wipe out one’s peace of mind. As the first class of “seminarians,” the apostles undoubtedly wrestled with their share of fears. Considering how often fears grip our lives in areas ranging from finances to health to relationships, it is easy to see why psychologists call fear “our worst emotion.”

I don’t think my family would have blamed me one bit had I left the seminary at the end of my first year, but I knew that if God is aware of every hair on my head, then I had little reason to be afraid of what laid ahead. Yes, I still wrestled with certain issues, but I persevered and six years after that first midterm, Archbishop Hunthausen ordained me a priest. Like Jeremiah, I had no reason to fear, knowing that God was with me.

Looking back over the past 22 years, I know that my choice to become a priest made a difference in the lives of many people whom I have served. I have managed on several occasions to offer the insightful challenge that saved a marriage and a family. What I have said from the pulpit or in the classroom has enabled some people to deepen their relationship with Christ. I trusted that God would lead the way, enabling me to speak in the light that would make a difference in their lives.

I also know that I have made a difference in the lives of others in that something I said or did proved to be the “last straw” to break that person’s back, providing a reason or an excuse to abandon the Catholic faith or to no longer actively live the faith. As much as I regret any person’s absence, I was proclaiming that which my heart was telling me then was the right thing to say or do. Long ago, I learned that I could not begin to please everyone.

In either instance, I suspect those individuals learned that faith is not something static. Faith is bound to change. A deepening faith leads to a closer relationship with God and with others. Someone with a shallow faith when confronted is likely to change as well, either be moved to grow or be pushed away. Yes, there is a risk anytime I follow Jeremiah’s example and challenge the status quo. Speaking prophetically isn’t an easy thing to do. Whenever I challenge someone on a matter of faith and morals, my hope is that person’s faith will be deepened.

I will never forget an elderly man who considered himself to be a good Catholic yet he harbored a deep prejudice against a certain ethnic group. Getting him to see the flaw in his rationale of what a good Catholic is proved futile until one day, I refused him absolution and urged him to see that so long as he hated anyone, his relationship with God would remain shallow. Had I said nothing, might he have died with his prejudice still lingering in his heart? And if that hatred had still been there, might Jesus have denied him?

Whenever I meet an engaged couple that admits to living together, I am left with a choice. I could ignore the reality of their sinful choice and let them discover for themselves the harm they are doing to their relationship with each other and God, or I could confront the sin in their lives, knowing that they may not care to hear what I have to say. Some couples leave, choosing instead to get married outside of the Church. Had I said nothing on the matter, might they still be here? My hope whenever I do marriage prep is that they are drawn closer to God and each other because of what I said. That is also my hope anytime I challenge parishioners to examine the choices they make. Ben Franklin observed, “Sin is not hurtful because it is forbidden, but sin is forbidden because it is hurtful.” No wonder Jesus talks often about sin.

When faith is no longer a priority in our lives, how far behind is the likelihood that our relationship with Jesus will no longer be a priority? And when our relationship with Jesus no longer ranks as a priority in our lives, will we care about his gospel and blueprint for our salvation? Unless we care about the Gospel and its message, the strong temptation is to remain silent in a world that doesn’t really want to be confronted by what Jesus has to say. That was true then and it is just as true today.

Yet, we can ill afford to keep quiet. Our lives must reflect the faith and values we profess if we expect Jesus to acknowledge us before his heavenly Father. Fr. Anthony de Mello once said, “Good religion makes you fearless; bad religion makes you fearful.” From the very beginning, Jesus knew his followers would be challenged yet he also told them to have no fear in standing up for what they believe in for nothing could kill their spirit. “Let go of fear,” he tells us. How? “By learning to trust me,” he responds, and that is what I have been trying to do since I flunked that first midterm so long ago. Have you dared to do the same?
 

Seven year old David was spending Saturday with his grandfather. He always had fun with Grandpa. Well, this one day, David was in his inquisitive mode. He started asking all sorts of questions, including, “Grandpa, what happens when you die?”

Now his Grandpa was only in his early fifties and had not done a whole lot of thinking about dying, but he answered the question the best he could. He told David that when people die they go before God, and if they have lived their lives the best they could, God unites them to himself forever in heaven.

“Grandpa, does that mean that when you die you won’t be here anymore?” His Grandfather said, “Yes, David, I won’t be here anymore.”

“Does that mean you won’t be able to play catch with me anymore?” he asked. “Yes, David, I won’t be able to play catch with you.”

“And you won’t be able to fly a kite with me?” Grandpa replied, “That’s right, David.”

“And you won’t take me fishing?”

“No, Buddy, I won’t.”

“Well,” David asked, “who’s going to do those things if you can’t?” Grandpa responded, “David, hopefully when that time comes, it will be your turn to do all those things and more for another little boy.”

That I imagine is what Jesus had in mind as he looked out at the crowds in today’s gospel. He had been traveling around from town to town, proclaiming the good news and curing every disease and illness. What we witness is a turning point in his ministry. Jesus now sees that no one person can bandage every wound, soothe every hurt, or stem the advance of every disease. He realizes the harvest is abundant but the laborers are few. What happened next was a commencement, complete with a speech in which twelve imperfect disciples were commissioned by him to go forth and proclaim to anyone who would listen that the kingdom of heaven is at hand.

Were they the best that God had to work with? Not really. Jesus could have chosen a dozen Pharisees and Sadducees, holy men who knew the commandments and scriptures like the back of their hands, but he didn’t. In spite of their shortcomings, our presence here is a testimony that the apostles and countless others who followed them succeeded in carrying out the mission Jesus entrusted to them.

Jesus said, “Without cost, you have received; without cost you are to give.” It is only natural and right then for us to continue sharing the faith we have received from our parents and mentors. There are many Davids out there who need someone to tell them to distinguish right from wrong as others taught us to choose well. There are a lot of Davids who need someone to tell them that God is with them, like others who taught us to treasure the presence of God in our lives. There are plenty of Davids who need someone to give them hope, just as others have given us hope.

Back in biblical times, speech was the main means of communication. The written word existed, but paper was expensive. Most people learned through word of mouth, the words of traveling teachers or preachers. Even in our day of emails, facebook, and cell phones, nothing surpasses face to face, that is, word of mouth in efficacy. Anyone in sales knows this. So do those of you who have children. Grandpa is right. We have to talk to our children. We have to give them what we received, and that includes what we’ve learned about Jesus.

We have to talk to our neighbors as well, including those who are lapsed Catholics or unbaptized. We have to teach them the Hope of the Lord, namely, that the kingdom of heaven is at hand. We have to give them what we receive. As Christians, our responsibility is to spread the Gospel of Christ.

As Jesus said, the harvest is abundant but the laborers are few. Why is that? Is it because we think others should do the work? Do we think that we are not good enough? Who is? Are we afraid to be apostles? We shouldn’t be. Jesus called us with the Gospel and he empowers us with the Holy Spirit to spread the Gospel.

Faith is the key to carrying out this mission. Our faith is alive. Our faith is vital. Our faith is strong and it is dynamic. For the many Davids in our lives, let us pray for the courage to share this Gift of Faith with others.
 

Jesus Loves the Cracked Pots, Part II

I begin my homily this (evening, morning) in what might seem a strange way. I would like to tell you about a Hindu fable. Fortunately, I think I can get away with it because our Church does teach that insights into the revelation of God can come from non-Christian sources.

There was a poor peasant in India, who lived in a small hut with no water. He frequently had to travel for several miles with two twenty-gallon clay pots fixed on a stand that went over his shoulders. The pots leaked and so each trip to the river did not yield forty gallons of water. But the poor peasant could not afford new clay pots so he did the best he could under the circumstances.

One day to his surprise, he discovered that his cracked pots were magical. They could speak and they did to him on this day. But the cracked pots were very sad and depressed. They poured out their sorrows to him, apologizing to him that if they were not so leaky, the peasant’s life would not be so hard.

But the peasant loved the cracked pots. He told them that they accomplished much more than they realized. For the peasant had decided to plant flowers on the dirt road to the river. Each time he fetched water, the leaky pots watered the flowers and made them beautiful. So even cracked pots, he said, could bring joy and beauty.

This Hindu fable captures the essence of today’s Gospel according to Matthew. For Jesus also loved, and indeed loves in a figurative sense, the cracked pots; all of us, even some of us crackpots. The Gospel this weekend is about the calling of Matthew as an apostle. Matthew was a tax  collector. To say that tax collectors in the time of the human Jesus were despised is to put it mildly. In fact, they were regarded as traitors to the Jewish nation.

In the time of Jesus, laws and regulations did not bind tax collectors as tax collectors are today. Tax collecting was a mafia-style protection racket. Tax collectors were paid very little by the Romans, but could collect more if they gouged the public, keeping the difference between the levies of the empire and what the tax collectors actually charged ordinary people. The Pharisees, despite their protestations in today’s Gospel, shared in this protection racket; Roman taxes also supported the Jewish temple, in exchange for preaching a docile faith that protected the Roman public order;

In spite of this, Jesus liked to hang out with the despised; not because he approved of their lifestyle, but because, as He said, he came to call sinners, the cracked pots if you will. He did not want to give up on anybody, and he came to call everybody, particularly those in most of need of God’s mercy.  As the reading from the prophet Hosea says this morning, God seeks our love and love of one another more than he does ritual sacrifices or pomp and circumstance.

Sinners like Matthew who were drawn to Jesus obviously sensed something. He was offering them a happiness and inner peace that their own exploitive lifestyles were not offering them.  As our second reading, the letter of St. Paul to the Romans stresses, life in Jesus brings not financial credit, but the far superior credit that comes when we love God and others.

To bear out this teaching, I offer you a short personal witness given to me by an old friend. At the base of a mountain in Tennessee, there was a boy born to an unwed mother. He had a hard time growing up, because every place he
went, he was always asked the same question, ‘Hey boy, who’s your daddy?’

Whether he was at school, in the grocery store or drug store, people would ask the same question, ‘Who’s your daddy?’ He would hide at recess and lunchtime from other students. He would avoid going into stores because that question hurt him so bad.

When he was about 12 years old, a new preacher came to his church. He would always go in late and slip out early to avoid hearing the question, ‘Who’s your daddy?’
But one day, the new preacher said the benediction so fast that he
got caught and had to walk out with the crowd. Just about the time he got to the back do or, the new preacher, not knowing anything about him, put his hand on his shoulder and asked him, ‘Son who’s your daddy?’

The whole church got deathly quiet. He could feel every eye in the
church looking at him. Now everyone would finally know the answer to the
question, Who’s your daddy?’

This new preacher, though, sensed the situation around him and using
discernment that only the Holy Spirit could give, said the following
to that scared little boy.. ‘Wait a minute! I know who you are! I see the
family resemblance now; You are a child of God.

With that he patted the boy on his shoulder and said, ‘Boy, you’ve
got a great inheritance. Go and claim it.’ With that, the boy smiled for the first time in a long time and walked out the door a changed person. He was never the same again. Whenever anybody asked him, ‘Who’s your Daddy?’ he’d just tell them , ‘I’m a Child of
God.”

Now one could say that if that preacher hadn’t told the boy that he was one of God’s children, he probably never would have amounted to anything. The boy in question was
Ben Hooper, who eventually came one of the most revered governors in the history of the state of Tennessee.

The boy in this story was not by human standards special. But that is really the point; Jesus works with the cracked pots of every age. He works with ordinary people to bring about extraordinary things. The creation of a two thousand year old Church was brought about through Jesus working with ordinary fishermen, tax collectors, and other despised members of the society of his day.

Today as well, Jesus never gives up on any of us. He wants us to move ever closer to him through the model of his life: service-based love of God and one another. He calls us to holiness, to be with him now and in the next life. So even though you are a cracked pot, give of yourself. Dig deeper to support the many services the Church provides to thousands of cracked pots out there. Comfort a friend who in trouble, forgive someone you said you would never forgive, go back and try to heal a relationship that has been broken.

Jesus wants all of us to be with him.  By working with him, He is the glue by which are cracks our sealed.  We become new and improved vessels of grace, which can be poured out in service to God and others.

Yes, Jesus loves the cracked pots. If we work with him, we too can produce beautiful flowers.
 

Watching people receive communion can be interesting. Their body language gives me a clue as to what is going through their minds as they reach out to receive.  Some show joy in their expression; others act rather indifferently. Many respond, as we all should, with a strong “amen,” while others look puzzled as though they don’t know quite what to say or do.  The actions of some leave me wondering what reverence if any they have for this awesome sacrament.  When reverence for the Eucharist wanes, evidenced by the choice of many Catholics not to attend Mass regularly, interest in the other sacraments also declines; fewer baptisms and confirmations, less confessions, fewer couples seeking to be married in the church, along with a drop in priestly vocations. Perhaps it is time for a crash course in Holy Communion 101.

At every Mass, we celebrate a mystery that has been the core of our Catholic worship since the Last Supper; the changing of bread and wine by the power of the Holy Spirit into the real presence of Jesus Christ.  Before taking communion, the celebrant holds up the host and chalice and proclaims, “This is the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world. Happy are those who are called to his supper.”  Bread and wine cannot accomplish that feat but Jesus Christ can. The promise of the Eucharist, outlined in the gospel, is that Jesus feeds us with imperishable food so that we can live forever. Yes, happy are they who believe in this awesome mystery.

Much to the chagrin of some fellow Christians, not everyone in attendance is invited to this supper and for good reason. The very name, communion, provides the rationale for excluding some from receiving. Eucharist is a visible sign that the recipient is in communion with God and the beliefs and teachings of our Catholic faith. Every communicant is publicly acknowledging what we as Catholics believe and stand for.

A few years ago at their annual conference, our bishops published a document entitled, “Happy Are Those Who Are Called to His Supper,” in which they outlined who may or may not receive communion.  In a nutshell, to receive the grace and benefits of this sacrament, one must first believe in what this sacrament is: the real presence of Jesus Christ.  Paul in his letter to the Corinthians poses the challenge, “Judge for yourselves what I am saying. The cup of blessing that we bless, is it not a participation in the blood of Christ? The bread that we break, is it not a participation in the body of Christ?” Despite their appearances, our gifts cease to be bread and wine; they become for us the body and blood of Jesus Christ.

The Eucharist does not have such meaning for everyone. They see it only as a symbol at best. I will never forget the day I found a host that clearly had been in someone’s mouth stuck between the pages of a hymnal.  Evidently, communion had little meaning beyond being a piece of bread for that person.

After bowing as a sign of reverence, every communicant is expected to say, “Amen,” before receiving communion.  The amen is not a “Thank you,” but a public profession of faith in the real presence of Jesus Christ in the substance of consecrated bread and wine, the presence of Jesus Christ in the assembly, and the presence of Jesus Christ in the communicant. To say, “amen,” is to say, “I believe.”

Ideally, we should receive communion regularly, gratefully, and worthily. We may find ourselves in situations, however, when we should decline the celebrant’s invitation to come and dine. For example, when we are in a state of grave sin, we must not receive communion because we cannot honestly say that Christ is present in us.  Mortal sin is an act violating God’s law that involves grave matter and is performed with both full knowledge and complete consent of the will.  The Church has always taught that when we are in a state of grave sin, we must refrain from communion until we are reconciled with God and the Church through the sacrament of penance. On the other hand, one need not be sinless, for this sacrament is a source of forgiveness for our venial sins. The key is honestly acknowledging what is a grave sin and what isn’t.

Nor should we receive communion if we have not observed an hour’s fast beforehand. Unless you are elderly, infirm, or caring for them, you are required to refrain from all food and drink, with the exception of water and medicines for one hour prior to receiving Holy Communion. (That would include gum or coffee.) This fast isn’t asking much of us, but it teaches us to hunger for Jesus by making this time sacred.

The bishops point out that we should be cautious about judging those who go to communion or don’t go.  Few of us ever know the full story of another person’s conscience. They also point out that those who appropriately decide to not receive communion should, nonetheless, still participate in the celebration of the Mass. “In hearing the Word of God and responding to it through acclamations, singing, and prayerful silence they can allow that Word to work within them.”  We owe it to ourselves for our well being in this lifetime and for all eternity to make time to be with God in prayer and the Mass, long seen as the source of Christian life, is ideal for doing so.

Are you happy to be invited to the Lord’s Supper? I hope that your answer is and always will be, “Yes!” so I invite you to savor the moment. Take and eat, Jesus reminds us, in remembrance of me. Allow him, then, to transform your lives in this extraordinary encounter that has changed the lives of so many believers who have reverenced his real presence in something so ordinary as bread and wine, blessed and broken.