2010

The feast of the Holy Family, which we celebrate this morning, provides an opportune moment for us to reflect on the role of family in our lives. For most of us, no other group of people shaped who we are more than the family in which we grew up.

Some of us came from traditional family settings, a home with a father, mother, and siblings. Others came from single parent homes. I know couples who are raising their grandchildren. In some households, the roles are now reversed. Adult children find themselves caring for an aging and infirmed parent, heeding the message of Sirach.

What we have in common is that even if we are now living alone, we have our roots in a family setting. Blood ties alone do not create a family. In my ministry, I have encountered too many examples of relatives who refuse to communicate with one another for any number of reasons. On the other hand, I have seen some people, although unrelated, who have bonded together very much like a family.

What makes any group of people a family? That word comes from the Latin word, famulus, which means servant. Nearly any kid would agree with that definition, considering all the household chores they have to do! Serving one another is what keeps a family together. In the family, each person serves the needs of others, ideally placing their needs, interests, desires, and delights aside for the sake of others, treating them as Paul suggest we do in his letter that we just heard. Think of his advice as a new set of commandments, couched in positive language to practice the virtues of compassion, kindness, humility, patience and gentleness.

Speaking of service, fifty years ago, JFK raised the conscience of this nation when he said, “Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country.” Likewise, Sirach and Paul are urging us to approach our family with a similar question, namely, “What can I do for my family?”

This feast, coming near the start of a new year, provides an opportune moment for families to discern their bill of health by taking a look at what social scientists call the “unintentional consequences” of our choices.

When was the last time you told your spouse, parent, child or sibling, “I love you?” Failing to express love can spell trouble in due time. Many marriages have failed because the love that once brought couples together grew silent. Many adolescents, feeling rejected, either run away from home or have taken their lives because no one ever said those three significant words until it was too late. Some people have turned to addiction because the love they seek is missing from their lives.

Some parents may feel that providing for their children is more important than being their companions, so they put in more time at work, earning the income to buy what they presume the family needs or wants. For some reason, they think their children prefer presents to their personal presence.

While we may not be able to control the economic forces that influence some of our daily decisions, we can decide what really matters in our lives. We can decide that God and people are more important than things.

We can decide that families are more important than our careers. We can decide that our children will be raised, not by their peers or the entertainment industry, but by us. We can decide that we have values worth handing onto our children and they would be better people for having them. We can decide that spending time with our children is a winning situation for everyone involved.

Granted, parenting is not an easy task.  Scott Peck, in his book, The Road Less Traveled, observed that this challenging responsibility is undertaken by most people without any formal training. Parents generally parent their children in the manner in which they were parented.

We don’t know much about what life was like for the holy family, but I suspect they were much more down to earth than we realize. We may tend to idealize the holy family yet as the gospel narrates, they had their share of challenges. They experienced the anxieties and sorrows of family life. They serve for us as a model of how every family can be holy and real. By real, I mean simply that every member can be respecting, encouraging, affirming, and loving. That would be a fitting way to put Paul’s advice into practice with those who matter most to us.

Lady Bird Johnson offered this advice, “Each day do a little more than you think you can.” Imagine how different life would be in the home if we adopted her wisdom. Each day, love a little more than you think you can.  Each day, forgive a little more than you think you can. Each day, reach out to someone who is hurting a little more than you think you can. If we made this our new year’s resolution, it would be one of the best gifts we could give to our family in the coming year.

We come from near and far to gather this night/day for a special reason.  We come to encounter the baby Jesus.  People first came to encounter him 2000 years ago. First, shepherds, then wise men, then the apostles and many disciples ever since.

You came here tonight without having to knock on any doors.  Yet if you were to go to someone else’s home, you would usually knock on that person’s door, wouldn’t you?

One day, a priest went to visit a parishioner. No one answered, but he could hear the radio playing and even some footsteps so he knew someone had to be home. He knocked louder. No one came. Finally, he pounded on the door, but still got no response. So he took out a business card, wrote a Bible verse on it and stuck it in the door.

Ten minutes after he left, a lady – who had been in the house all the time – opened the door. When she did, the card fell down. She saw the priest’s name and the Bible verse: Revelation 3:20. Curious, she got out her Bible and read the verse. It said: “Behold, I am standing at the door, knocking…if anyone opens the door, I will come in and we will have a meal together.”

On Sunday morning, the priest noticed his business card was in the collection basket. When he picked it up, he saw that his verse was crossed out and replaced by another Bible verse: Genesis 3:10. The priest went to his office and got out his Bible. The verse said, “I heard you in the garden; but I was afraid, because I was naked, so I hid myself.”

Whenever anyone knocks at your door, everything depends on whether you open that door. Sometimes it would not make much difference if you open the door, especially to a parish priest, but have you ever thought that someone much more important is knocking at your door and mine?

That someone is Jesus who is going to great lengths to be invited into our world. Before the universe began, before the stars, the sun, and the earth were even created, God had a plan to become one with us. At the right moment, his son, Jesus, as we heard in the gospel story, was born in Bethlehem to a Jewish maiden named Mary.

From the moment he was born, you could say that Jesus knocked on doors to enter the lives of many people since his birth in Bethlehem. They opened the doors of their hearts and let him in and that is what we are encouraged to do ourselves. There is no reason to be afraid and hide from him.

My cousin had a painting that showed Jesus knocking on someone’s door.  What caught my eye was that there was no knob on the door!  Obviously, there was no way that Jesus could open the door.  The only way Jesus could enter would be if someone in the house opened the door for him. Likewise, Jesus can enter our hearts only if we open the doors to our hearts to let him enter, so imagine Jesus standing here and knocking at the door of your heart.  I pray that you welcome him into your heart not only on the day we celebrate his birth, but every day as well.

Think of the times when you open the door to your home and let someone in. Do you desire that person’s company or can you hardly wait for that person to leave?  When the visitor at the door is someone we love, we are excited to welcome that person into our lives. Not only that, we are inclined to tell others about what a delightful time we had with our visitor. Don’t you usually tell others about the visits of your relatives and friends?  And when you do, do you feel as though you are speaking from the heart?

That is how our new archbishop feels about Jesus. Every bishop has what is called a coat of arms. Archbishop Peter Sartain has a motto on his which reads, “Of you my heart has spoken.” That line is taken from psalm 27:8.  His heart always speaks of God.

Does our heart always speak of God? I hope so. Your very presence here at this liturgy speaks volumes that your heart speaks of God here and now. I urge you to allow your heart to speak of God every day just as our new archbishop does. Invite Jesus into your heart even after the Christmas tree is taken down and the decorations are put away. Even when Christmas becomes a distant memory, I hope you allow your heart to speak of God by being generous to those in need, being patient with your family and friends, being loving even to those whom you do not like, forgiving those who have hurt you, and being kind to everyone you meet, just as Jesus is kind and loving to you.

May you have a blessed Christmas not just today but for weeks to come.

Some people like to think they are in complete control of their lives. They plan their trips down to the last detail, while others venture along open to the unexpected. Those of us who live on Whidbey know that we are at the mercy of the ferry system. Luke tells us up front that Jesus simply intended to pass through Jericho, the lowest city in the world, until he spotted Zacchaeus in a tree. “Zacchaeus, come down quickly, for today I must stay at your house.”

Ever faithful to his mission “to seek and to save what was lost,” Jesus figuratively ventured out on a limb himself for no Jew in his right mind would have done what he stopped to do, that is, socialize with a public sinner, which is how Zacchaeus’ neighbors viewed him. As intent as Jesus may have been to quickly pass through town, he was more intent on saving anyone who desired to be saved.

Keep in mind that Zacchaeus was the epitome of the despised person. A chief tax collector, this wealthy Jew was living off the sweat of the town folks, supporting the Romans with the monies he collected, so in their sight, he was the ultimate sinner, yet of all the residents in Jericho, he was the only one whom Jesus called by name.

What a surprise that must have been to those who witnessed this encounter and to Zacchaeus as well.  Then and there Jesus should have criticized the man, not dine with him! This left the residents of Jericho muttering, “He has gone to stay at the house of a sinner!”  For Zacchaeus, the notion that Jesus wanted to stay with him must have spoke volumes of God’s love for him.

I imagine Zacchaeus climbed out on a limb never expecting to be noticed. But he was and that left him a changed person. Instead of passing by, Jesus called him by name, something rarely noted in any of the gospels. In their heart to heart encounter, this short man could see that by noticing him, Jesus also loves him.

If we have ever been tempted to say, “No one in the world cares about me,” then possibly we cannot see how much God loves us. Despite the overwhelming size of the universe, God very much loves you, however much a sinner you may be in the sight of others or judge yourself to be. As the passage from Wisdom points out, God is in touch with all of creation. Jesus noticed this short man who may have thought he was out of sight sitting up in a tree but Jesus notices any who seek him.

That is the first point I feel Luke is trying to get across to us in this passage. However they may feel about themselves, Jesus calls all sinners to salvation. Those who seek Jesus, venturing out on the limbs of their lives, are saved.  Zacchaeus made the choice literally and figuratively to climb out on a limb of a sycamore tree. Likewise, we are encouraged to do the same.

Seeing Jesus isn’t enough to be saved.  Many residents in Jericho saw him as he passed by but, unlike Zacchaeus, did they seek to see who Jesus was? Seeking him resulted in an encounter that prompted Zacchaeus to change his ways. “Half of my possessions, Lord, I shall give to the poor, and if I have extorted anything from anyone, I shall repay it four times over.”  In turn, Jesus assured him, “Today salvation has come to this house because this man too is a descendant of Abraham.”

That brings me to the second point in this gospel passage. Like Zacchaeus, any sinner seeking Jesus will be moved to a change of heart and follow his example.  Recognizing that God notices and loves him, Zacchaeus was prompted to be generous like God, promising to give half of what he owned to the poor and make restitution to those whom he has wronged.

Salvation begins with recognizing what God has already done for us. He created us out of love to spend eternity with him in heaven. In turn, we can demonstrate our trust in God by offering some of what we have back to God as a sign of gratitude for all that God has done for us. We call that stewardship.

Morris West, a renowned Catholic novelist from Australia, once said, “If a man is centered upon himself, the smallest risk is too great for him, because both success and failure can destroy him. If he is centered upon God, then no risk is too great, because success is already guaranteed.

When we adopt stewardship as our way of life, we follow the example of Zacchaeus. Like him, we venture out on a limb to center our lives on God. If we believe that God indeed cares about us, we are prompted, as was Zacchaeus, to give God the first fruits of our labors rather than our spare change, that is, what is left over after paying all the bills.

I admit that climbing out on a limb to give God the first fruits of our labors may seem like a scary proposition to many people. At one time, I too struggled with making ends meet; I decided to practice stewardship by writing the first check of the month to the parish. When I began to dedicate the first part of my income to God, I began trusting that in the vastness of the universe, God indeed cared about me. Others in the parish have had the same experience.

In the coming week, I ask that you prayerfully consider how you have responded to God’s generosity in the past year. What are you sharing in gratitude for all that God has done for you? Be assured that when you make stewardship a way of life, God will not be leaving you out on a limb.

Today’s gospel is a jewel, a real gem, containing a parable that is pithy, giving us much food for thought without a wasted word, and pungent, leaving us with a message that stings, pricks, and bites. A parable that could well bear the notice: ‘Warning: the preacher-general has determined that this parable can be dangerous to your religious self-esteem.”

Luke tells us the obvious lesson: exalt yourself and you will be humbled; humble yourself and you will be exalted.  This parable urges us to examine our relationship with God and one another. One writer best summarized the story by saying, “Two men went up to the temple to pray. One did and the other didn’t.”

The tax collector prayed while the Pharisee stood there offering an assessment of his sanctity. On the surface, the Pharisee appears to be praying, but all he really did was exalt himself.  How odd, given that Pharisees were known for their piety.  While this one could be easily commended for being very religious in what he did, he saw little need to actually pray to God. The Pharisee was oblivious to his sin of pride. In contrast, the tax collector faces the painful truth about himself and quietly ask God to have mercy on him.

Obviously, the prayers of the tax collector and the Pharisee were very different.  The Pharisee was fulfilling an obligation in the Law to worship.  He stressed the point that he was doing more than the law required of him. To emphasize this, he pointed to the tax collector, “I certainly am a lot better than that guy over there.”  His ‘holier than thou attitude’ can’t be missed.

The tax collector didn’t make any comparisons, nor did he try to remind God of any of the good things he had done in his life.  He didn’t say, “I know I’ve done wrong, collecting taxes from my own people for the Romans and making a profit on it for myself, but I also fed my neighbor’s family when he died suddenly, and I routinely give alms to beggars.”  Nor did he say, “Lord, I am not an arrogant man, like that Pharisee.” His prayer was simply, “O God, be merciful to me a sinner.”  

Catholicism is often accused of putting people on guilt trips.  I do not agree.  Catholicism puts people on reality trips.  Catholicism dares to speak about unpopular topics like sin.  Ours is not a “feel good” religion. Instead, Catholicism dares to invite people to consider their own participation in sin and seek forgiveness. Catholicism recognizes that our salvation is a process we are engaged in.  We are not saved yet, we are in the process of being saved.  Our Church recognizes that we are human beings and that we can give in to the temptation to sin.  Our Church also tells us that the Lord was one of us.  He experienced what temptation was like and he fully understands our need for mercy.  He gives the sacrament of mercy, penance, because he wants his mercy, not our guilt, directing our lives.

God is determined to form a relationship with each of us.  So often, however, we have run from Him.  When we realize that God has chosen us as individuals, that He loves each of us, and when we consider how we have resisted Him, we realize that our prayer must begin with, “Have mercy on me a sinner.”

Contrary to what many Catholics think, our Church is not concerned with guilt but in my ministry I find that to be a hard lesson to sell. Perhaps that is due to negative experiences you may have had years ago in the confessional. Or it may be that you subconsciously think like the Pharisee and don’t really see yourself as a sinner. More than once, penitents have come to me seeking absolution but they are at a loss to confess to any wrongdoing. Their mindset reminds me of a classmate in the seminary who would sometimes sing, “O Lord, its hard to be humble when you are as perfect as me.”  While we may not see ourselves as being perfect, we often fail to see how much we have in common with one another. Namely, being human, we all make mistakes, we all fall prey to temptation, we all sin at one time or another, and we all need God’s mercy.

Last Christmas, someone gave me a book by an American priest who had been incarcerated in Siberia for decades. Fr. Walter Ciszek compared himself to the Pharisee at one point. He wrote, “I was ashamed because I knew in my heart that I had tried to do too much on my own, and I had asked for God’s help but had really believed in my own ability to avoid evil and to meet every challenge…The sense of guilt and shame I felt was rooted in my failure to put grace ahead of nature, my failure to trust primarily in God rather than in my own powers.”

Jose Gomez, the recently appointed coadjutor Archbishop of Los Angeles, made this observation that ties in well with the gospel. “Ultimately, what we all must learn is that no matter what our gifts, abilities, and training, no matter how hard we work, and no matter what we are able to achieve, everything is a gift from God in Christ Jesus, and God alone is the true source of our strength and power in this life. Learning this lesson is the beginning of growing in Christian character.”

Archbishop Gomez raises the point that few of us have been taught the virtue of living humbly. Instead we value our uniqueness and emphasize what sets us apart like the Pharisee, but that is not what enriches our relationship with God or, for that matter, with others. Jesus challenges us to embrace the humble, God-centered faith of the tax collector, not the self-centered and self-important claims of the Pharisee. We give thanks for God’s love for us by returning that love to one another, and by accepting one another as God has accepted us. We honor God as Father of us all by honoring one another as brothers and sisters. Real prayer seeks first and only the grace to do that.

Now here is a parable that I can easily restate in a contemporary setting. In a certain city there was a corrupt bureaucrat who neither feared God nor respected people. A single mother on welfare kept coming to him and saying, “Make my landlord fix the furnace and insulate my house. I can’t afford to pay the heat bill and my children are freezing.” For awhile the bureaucrat refused to listen but the mother came to his office every day with her three children and each day she would voice the same plea. After several weeks of this, the bureaucrat decided that if he didn’t give her what is right, she would continue to pester him so he finally issued the order to her landlord to repair the house. The furnace was replaced and her home was insulated.

The next day the mother was back in the bureaucrat’s office with her children. She thanked him for what he had done and then said, “Now let me tell you about my plumbing problems.”

One point Jesus is making with this parable is that we are to pray always without growing weary. If persistence can change the mindset of a self-centered judge, how much more will our persistence prevail with a gracious God who loves us?

The ultimate question, however, is not “How will God react?” but “When the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?” That is, when Jesus returns in his glory, will he find us in prayer? In whatever trying situation you find yourself in, how do you react? Unlike the widow, some people give up. Worn out by their struggle, they retreat in defeat. Would you do the same thing if you were in their shoes?

Some people don’t give up though. They persist, like the widow in the parable, seeking to be vindicated, to succeed and ultimately rebuild their lives. You have to wonder what gives them such inner strength. The message in these readings provides a clue: persistence and prayer go hand in hand.

The noted Jewish rabbi, Abraham Heschel describes persistence as a form of prayer, flowing from the power of faith that initiates and acts. Persistence is prayer that is rooted in our ability to approach God and reveal our hurts, hopes, dreams, and desperations.

Persistence enabled the widow to get the justice she deserved.

Persistence enables my cousin, Betty, to celebrate 46 years of marriage. She was only 14 when she married Lou and back then no one expected their marriage to last, especially since Lou had a drinking problem, but with persistence, they have licked the problems they have encountered, including his alcoholism, her struggle with lupus and bankruptcy.

As the parable points out, persistence is not merely waiting for something to happen, but actively doing something that brings us closer to our aspirations. By itself, prayer may or may not accomplish what we have in mind, but when prayer takes on the quality of being persistent, then we are allowing not so much our will but God’s will to be done.  In other words, persistent prayers are answered but not always in the manner we would expect.

Prayers go unanswered only when we cease to pray, for then we deny God the chance to even respond.

Some people become disillusioned with prayer because they don’t get what they want. People who pray for miracles usually don’t get miracles, but people who pray for courage, for strength to bear the unbearable, for the grace to remember what they have instead of what they have lost, very often find that prayer helped them to tap hidden reserves of faith and courage which were not available to them before.

Another point that I hear Jesus is making comes to light if we think of the widow, rather than the judge, as God. This allows us to see God as the one who is persistently seeking justice and calling on us to do the same. Anyone who resists injustice, faces it, names it, and denounces it, as the widow did, is God-like and is doing what needs to be done to build up the kingdom of God in our midst. The persistence of the widow reminds me of others who have sought justice in our times: Dorothy Day, Martin Luther King, jr., Rosa Parks, Desmond Tutu, Nelson Mandela, Oscar Romero, Pope Paul VI, Pope John Paul II, Blessed Mother Teresa of Calcutta to name but a few. Need I mention that prayer is the one tool that enabled them to persist in their mission?

Oftentimes we find ourselves struggling with issues that demand a choice.  Do we listen to God through the different ways God uses to communicate with us as we discern how to respond? One way to discern is the sacred scriptures which, as Paul notes, “are capable of giving you wisdom for salvation through faith in Jesus Christ.” Another is the Magisterium, that is, the teachings of our Church conveyed to us by her bishops. For example, in the bulletin this week, you will find a flyer, entitled Seeking the Common Good, which discusses the initiatives on the ballot for this fall in light of Catholic social teaching and tradition.  The bishops, I must add, did not endorse any of the initiatives nor are they indicating how we should vote. Their aim is to help us to act justly when we cast our votes.

The widow in the parable was certainly formidable. Was she the only one to take on the judge, the only one to hunger and thirst for justice? She shouldn’t be. She should have us for company and that, my friends, is what this gospel is really all about.