2010

How many glasses of water did you drink yesterday? For the sake of good health, we are advised to drink eight glasses a day but few of us really keep track. When water is ample, we give little thought to its value, but when it is scare, we treasure every drop for without water, we cannot live. Habakkuk is suggesting that without faith we cannot live either.

Fr. Daniel Barrigan, a Jesuit, once said, “The attitude of faith is no more easily described than a glass of water: colorless, tasteless, and odorless, but still mysteriously refreshing, and held up to the light of day, a prism that captures all the delight and mystery of the world.” What a beautiful reflection on water and faith! So ordinary yet at the right temperature, water can be so refreshing. Faith can be described in much the same way.

Contrary to popular perception, faith is not necessarily religious, nor even an element to be equated with belief. The first definition of faith is confidence. If we don’t have much faith in something, we are saying that we lack confidence in it. Faith is a person’s way of leaning into and making sense of life. Everyone who chooses to go on living operates by some basic faith, whether he is an atheist, an agnostic or one who believes in God.

The apostles said to Jesus, “Increase our faith,” and he answered, “If you have faith the size of a mustard seed, you could say to this mulberry tree, ‘be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you.” Instead of answering their plea, Jesus is suggesting that what matters in life is not the quantity but the quality of their faith.

Faith should not be seen as a commodity that someone else has but you don’t. To the contrary, we all have faith or we would not even be alive for faith is as essential to the being as water is to the body. What matters is how readily we value and nurture the faith we have.

Years ago, while in the seminary, I ran across a book entitled, The Precious Present, by Spencer Johnson, co-author of The One Minute Manager. “What might that be?” I wondered as I opened the book. Instead of being a physical object, Dr. Johnson made the point about how precious this moment in time truly is.

He wrote, “The present is what is. It is valuable. Even if I do not know why. It is already just the way it is supposed to be. When I see the present, accept the present, and experience the present, I am well, and I am happy.

“Pain is simply the difference between what is and what I want it to be. When I feel guilty over my imperfect past, or I am anxious over my unknown future, I do not live in the present. I experience pain. I make myself ill. And I am very unhappy.

“My past was my present. And my future will be my present. The present moment is the only reality I ever experience. As long as I continue to stay in the present, I am happy forever; because forever is always the present.”

St. Paul urges us, “Beloved: I remind you, to stir into flame the gift of God you have through the imposition of my hands.” This reminds me of embers in a fireplace. If you stir them, flames burst forth, but if the embers are left untouched, they slowly go out.  Likewise, we are urged to stir the embers of our faith, God’s gift to us today. What we did yesterday or plan to do tomorrow will not keep our faith alive today when it matters most for this is the moment when God is most present to us.

Last week, I heard on the news that in a survey on religious knowledge, when asked what best describes the Catholic teaching on Eucharist, barely a majority of Catholics responded that the gifts of bread and wine actually become the body and blood of Christ. Forty percent see the bread and wine as symbols, as did the majority of other Americans surveyed.

Perhaps they wonder how we can believe that bread and wine become something else when they remain for all outward purposes still bread and wine. That is where faith steps in. I remain confident in what Jesus proclaimed at the Last Supper when he said the words, “This is my body…this is my blood of the new covenant.” If God can create the universe out of nothing, who am I to limit what God can do and if God says that our gifts become the body and blood of his Son, my faith and hopefully yours responds, “Amen!” to what takes place during the consecration. With faith, we believe in a deeper transformation than our senses can perceive.

We also hold that we too are transformed when we receive Eucharist in a state of grace. By uniting us even closer to Jesus, Holy Communion separates us from sin for just as our gifts are transformed into Christ, he in turn transforms us into him. By virtue of our faith, we become the body of Christ, his presence in the world today.

For those who demand proof, I can offer none but the awareness that not everything can be proven, certainly not faith, yet as I said earlier, faith is very much a part of our human existence. In Hebrews, we read, “Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.”

Blasé Pascal had this to say about faith, “It is your own assent to yourself, and the constant voice of your own reason, and not of others, that should make you believe.”  Like water and the present moment, faith is a gift from God that is to be appreciated and put to use in our lives. With the help of the Holy Spirit, faith can make us strong, loving and wise, giving us what we need to move the “mulberry trees” in our lives.

A man known throughout the town for his great wealth and tight fistedness never contributed to any charity or did anything to alleviate the plight of the poor. The chairperson of one of the community’s worthy charitable organizations decided to approach the rich man at his office.

“Sir,” the fundraiser said, “Our records show that despite your great wealth, you have never given to our annual drive.”

“Oh, really?” the rich man fumed. “Well, do your records show that I have an elderly mother who was left penniless when my father died? Do your records show that I have a sick brother who is unable to work? Do your records show that I have a widowed sister with three small children who can barely make ends meet? Do your records show any of that?”

“No sir,” replied the embarrassed volunteer. “We did not know any of that information.” “Well, if I don’t give anything to them, why should I give anything to you?”

Hopefully, not one of us here is as miserly as that wealthy man was yet we may still feel a bit uneasy having just heard both Amos and Jesus berate people for being rich.

In contrast to many others, especially in third world countries, the vast majority of us are “wealthy.” We have a roof over our head, none of us are starving, we have heat to keep us warm, and most of us have our own means of transportation. However, there is no need to feel any twinge of guilt for simply being “rich.” To be wealthy is not, in itself, morally wrong. The moral question raised in today’s readings is simply how are we using our wealth?

In the parable Jesus shares today, the rich man is condemned not because he is wealthy, but because he remains unmoved and unaffected by the suffering at his door. His lack of concern for Lazarus condemns him to an eternity of misery.

Those who listened to Jesus give this parable were likely surprised by the outcome of his story. That God would punish the rich man and reward the beggar with eternal life made little sense to his Jewish listeners who believed that wealth was a sign of God’s favor and suffering was punishment for being sinful.

With this parable, Jesus makes the point that our earthly treasures provide no guaranteed passage to heaven. If anything, whatever wealth we have could threaten our salvation if we are too obsessed with our assets to pay much attention to God in our daily lives. Last week’s gospel passage ended with the warning from Jesus, “You cannot serve both God and mammon (that is, money).” If, like the rich man, we use our wealth selfishly, ignoring the needs of others, we will find ourselves separated by a chasm of our own making from God’s divine love and compassion.

In trying to spare his brothers the same fate, the rich man implores Abraham to send Lazarus to warn them to change their ways before it is too late, but Abraham knows such a warning would be futile. “If they will not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded if someone should rise from the dead.”  One was raised from the dead, namely Jesus, and yet many in the world continue to ignore the message that the rich man wanted his brothers to hear.

The rich man had been forewarned by the teachings of the Hebrew Scripture to be compassionate to the less fortunate. Undoubtedly, he heard the warnings of the prophet, Amos bluntly chastising those who are rich. Isaiah addresses this responsibility when he wrote, “This is the fasting that I wish, sharing your bread with the hungry, sheltering the oppressed and the homeless, clothing the naked when you see them, and not turning your back on your own.”

Some of you may feel that Jesus’ story of Lazarus and the rich man belongs to the distant past but his story is just as timely today. There are many Lazaruses at our own gates. What is our attitude toward them? Are they someone else’s problem? Has our self-centeredness blinded us to their presence?

We might make any number of excuses as to why we mimic the rich man, but none will win us a place at the eternal banquet if we choose to remain totally blind as the rich man did to the plight of the less fortunate. To give something to those in need is better than doing nothing at all. Had the rich man shared even one meal with Lazarus, he would have bridged the chasm that separated him from the love of God.

One indicator of how mindful we are of the less fortunate is how readily we contribute to Good Cheer. Lately the red barrel has been empty more often than not. The next time you come to Mass, can you bring one of the three P’s? Outreach attempts to provide paper products like toilet paper, personal hygiene items such as toothpaste and protein items such as canned tuna so that these products are more affordable to those who patronize Good Cheer’s food bank.

By his moral standards, the rich man didn’t show himself to be a true son of Abraham.  Do we show ourselves to be disciples of Jesus, heeding his advice to be aware of those in need? Our legacy lies not in what we own but in what we share to make our world a happier, healthier place for the less fortunate in our midst.

As the bright light of summer yields to the soft hues of fall, while students settle into school and parish activities kick into high gear, many Christians ponder over vacation expenses, tuition bills, the cost of new clothes and school supplies and other upcoming expenses. Life in Christ seems to be taken over by calculator and computer, yet the timely message of today’s readings is that our salvation is deeply intertwined with how we use the goods of this world.

This passage from Luke’s gospel is one of the most complex to be found in scripture. Its collection of somewhat disparate sayings is bound together by a common theme, the use and abuse of money. Jesus knew that living in the world requires each of us to use money wisely but he is quick to warn his listeners never to become so attached to money that it becomes their master.  The late Archbishop Thomas Murphy often asked the question, “What do I own and what owns me?”

Money is a god that rules many lives. The pursuit of money for some people is the driving force behind all they do.  A father once told his son, “Everybody has two personalities: the one we usually see and then the one when money is on the table.” That son later became a priest. He often quotes his father because he sees the harm that money can cause. Relationships and lives have been destroyed over money and money related issues. Many failed marriages can trace the start of their undoing to either the lack of or the pursuit of money.

If that priest’s father is correct, then one could say that our real character is revealed by our spending habits. Someone could learn quite a bit about your values by looking through your checkbook. Which master are you serving? God or money? As they so often do, the words of scripture have much to say about real life, offering us much wisdom on how best to live.

How do you use money? Do you consume just for the sake of consuming? Do you possess just to possess? Do you spend a bit more to get that item of clothing because of its logo? Do you go out on a Saturday night and spend $60 on dinner, $20 for a movie and $12 for an after movie desert and then place a few wadded one dollar bills in the Sunday collection?

What bothered Amos most in the first reading was the lack of connection his fellow Jews made between their religious beliefs and the way they were living their lives. He didn’t like what he saw. He made no claim to being a prophet, yet Amos forecast that Israel’s wealth would soon be its destruction. Although he did not live to see it, he was right.

The Israelites viewed their prosperity as a gift from God, ignoring Amos’ challenge that God would not forget how their wealth was being abused. Amos timeless words are meant to challenge us as well.

So, how are we using our wealth, our possessions, our money? In other words, how are we using what God has given us? The country singer, Garth Brooks, once said in an interview that he has more money than could be spent by his children’s children’s children. He wasn’t bragging. He was nervous. Garth felt that the prosperity and wealth he had achieved brought with it great responsibility and it does.

Few of us are wealthy monetarily. Nonetheless, we are called to be caretakers of the wealth God has given us.  Israel ignored that responsibility and ultimately paid the price. Many Christians have done the same, arrogantly proclaiming, “I have worked hard for what I have and it is mine!” They are allowing money and material goods to become a rival god in their lives.  Amos warns us that such an attitude can destroy us.

Jesus airs much the same caution in this confusing parable, which can leave us wondering if he is complimenting the steward for being dishonest. Actually, Jesus is commending him for his prudence and practicality, not his dishonesty.

This parable may be better understood if we keep in mind that neither the steward nor the debtors could claim ownership of the goods. They all belonged to the master. Using the language of the gospel, we could say that the earth and all its riches belong to God, the master of our universe. We are his stewards. How are we managing the goods that have been entrusted to us? Are we managing these goods in a way that benefits others or are we squandering them, thinking only of ourselves? Do we cling to the rights of private property or do we recognize our responsibility to share what we have to provide justly for the needs of the less fortunate?

We have a great deal of ambivalence about money yet our survival in this world demands a certain skill in acquiring money and using it well, that is, being a good steward of our resources.

Some people argue that money is evil but that isn’t so. Money is only a tool. In itself, money is neither good nor bad. A more accurate understanding of the saying that money is the root of all evil can be found elsewhere in the first letter to Timothy where St. Paul cautions, “the love of money is the root of all evils, and some people in their desire for it have strayed from the faith and have pierced themselves with many pains.”

No wonder then that Jesus is making the point here that no matter what problems we face, one thing is clear: if we are in love with money, we will not be in love with God. Or as Saint Bernard of Clairvaux wisely observes, “Theirs is an endless road, a hopeless maze, who seek for goods before they seek for God.”

For his birthday, a young priest I knew while in the seminary was given a bronze plaque that read, “Humility isn’t one of my faults, but if I had one, that would be it.” Clearly someone on the parish staff was hinting loudly that he needed to heed the advice from Sirach, “My child, conduct your affairs with humility, and you will be loved more than a giver of gifts.” A humble attitude he didn’t have and soon afterwards, he left the priesthood. Rather than seeing humility as a fault, the readings convey the urgent message to us that this is the key for encountering God.

In the gospel, Jesus wasn’t talking about table manners or snobbery when he used parables to advise the Pharisees. Rather, he was warning his audience that self-exaltation, the opposite of humility, excludes one from the eternal banquet. The big danger of self-exaltation is the likelihood to deny one’s sins.

Remember, the Pharisees viewed themselves as diligent followers of the law, down to the tiniest details. They fully expected, as the holiest people in Israel, to be seated in places of honor at the Lord’s banquet. But Jesus uses the occasion to caution them as he cautions us that our salvation does not depend on our actions alone but also on our motives. He tells them that their social status in the eyes of others was not as important as their good standing in the eyes of God.

Twenty seven years ago, I spent the summer as a chaplain at the Fircrest School in Shoreline, a home then for 500 severely disabled people of all ages. God bless them, they were great teachers. Before I began working there, I struggled with the issue of self esteem. I would affirm myself by the things I could do. Those things I could do well, I tried to do even better but those things I couldn’t do well, I was reluctant to try at all for fear that I would fail. If the results did not meet my expectations, I didn’t feel good about myself.

I was allowing success or failure to shape my self worth rather than the conviction that God loves me. The children at Fircrest helped me to realize that God never intended me to do all things well. They accepted their limitations and prompted me to do the same, recognizing and overcoming my inner fears.

They reminded me of the humanity of Jesus. Too often we think of Jesus as the son of God, forgetting about Jesus, the man from Nazareth, who like you and me, could also sweat, hunger, thirst, ache and complain when something didn’t go right. Jesus viewed humility, not as a weakness or a fault, but as strength. No virtue describes him better.

He did not hide behind false pretenses or rest on his laurels. Nor did Jesus attempt to be weaker than he actually was for he knew that too much humility was simply another form of pride.  Rather, he recognized his talents and used them, working hard at whatever he did. He challenged his listeners to understand themselves and not dwell on their shortcomings. If we see no good in ourselves, we fail to see God’s creative love for us, becoming victims of false pride.

One resident of Fircrest, whom I will never forget, was a blind, crippled teenager, named Johnny. He made me realize how much we have to offer one another. Johnny was so ugly that he reminded me of the elephant man. I was hesitant to minister to him until my supervisor suggested that I let Johnny minister to me instead. Putting aside my fears, I allowed him to literally move his fingers all over my face, pulling at my hearing aids. As he did so, I sensed the presence of God. In those few weeks, Johnny enabled me to be honest with my feelings and accepting of my limitations.

Mother Teresa of Calcutta, born a century ago in Albania, was a modern day example of one who accepted her limitations and humbly reached out to the sick and dying in the streets of Calcutta. She allowed God to work through her as she tended to their needs, setting an example for the rest of us. Humility was the cornerstone of her spirituality. Here in our parish, we can find many examples of friends who very much involve God in their lives while serving and respecting others.

That was what Jesus was challenging the Pharisees to do, calling on them to invite the crippled, the poor, and the blind into their lives. We too are being called to lay aside our fears and prejudices and to accepting of them as God is of us. Ironically, I first preached on these readings on the 20th anniversary of Martin Luther King’s most famous speech in which he prayed, “I have a dream that one day my children will be judged, not by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character.” Are we judging others today by the content of their character? Or like the Pharisees, are we judging them by whatever physical or mental limitations they have, or their social status, or their religious beliefs, or their ethnic origins?

Jesus warns us not to seek that which gives us a false sense of pride, sharing a banquet only with those who can bolster our false selves. A mindset of “what’s in it for me?”  leaves us blind to God’s love but if we put ourselves in touch with our true selves, then we can see that all we have is God’s love to us.

True humility is what allows us to be open to the presence of God. When we accept ourselves, we can begin to accept others and to forgive them. Only then can we realize that God has always been willing to forgive us and accept us for who we are. Granted, humility is hard, requiring honesty, effort, and courage, but it brings about the greatest reward, an invitation to the eternal banquet. Here and now, humility heals souls and relationships, but more importantly, this “fault” makes possible an intimate relationship with God.

A tourist came too close to the edge of the Grand Canyon, lost his footing and plunged over the side, clawing for anything to save his life. Somehow, he managed to grab hold of a small bush. Filled with terror, he yelled, “Is there anyone up there? Can anyone help me?” He heard a reassuring voice say, “I’m here. I, the Lord, your God.”

The man said, “Oh, I’m so glad you’re here. I can’t hold on much longer.” The Lord said, “Before I help you, I want to know if you believe in me.” The man replied, “Of course, I believe in you. I go to Mass every Sunday, I read the Bible, I pray everyday, and I even put a few dollars in the collection basket.”

The Lord asked again, “But do you really believe in me?” Meanwhile, the man was getting desperate. “Lord, you can’t believe how much I believe in you!”  “Good,” God replied, “Now let go of the branch.”  The man stammered, “But, Lord!”

And the voice of the Lord came back, “If you believe in me, let go of the branch.” The man was silent for a moment and then yelled, “Is there anyone else up there?”

I pray that you will never find yourself in such a situation but these readings invite us to ponder the issue of faith, especially in difficult times. Faith is fundamental to being fully human but do we really know what the word means? I imagine we would have a diverse and divergent collection of definitions if everyone present jotted down their personal meanings of faith.

Consider the definition given in Hebrews, clear and to the point, “Faith is the realization of what is hoped for and evidence of things not seen.” Would you have defined faith in this way? The letter then illustrates its point with the example of Abraham and Sarah, who dared to leave behind the familiar, with faith in God, to journey into the unknown.

In the passage from Wisdom, we witness the faith of the Israelites on the first night of their exodus from Egypt.  They trusted that the God of Abraham would free them from a life of slavery.  Under the cover of night, they did what needed to be done to be ready, placing their faith in the covenant between God and their ancestor, Abraham, in which God promised that Abraham’s descendants would be as numerous as the stars.

Both passages illustrated the courage to take the leap, to let go of fear, and to trust God to be with them as they ventured into the unknown. Our word, “trust,” perhaps best captures the spirit of faith being expressed in this passage from Hebrews. They trusted in the face of obstacles and contradictions that God would deliver them to the land where Abraham and Sarah died.

Faith is what draws us together to worship God at Mass. We admire the faith we witness in Abraham, Sarah, Peter and the other disciples. We look forward to sitting down at the Eucharistic banquet but as the gospel implies, anything could happen between now and then. What will our faith be like on that day?

Today’s liturgy speaks loudly to us at a time in our society when we have many reasons to be afraid. The economy is not recovering as fast as many had hoped.  Nearly ten percent of our labor force is unemployed or underemployed. The lingering war in the Middle East has cost us dearly in lives lost or maimed. Waking up to the news of a terminal or life altering illness is a fate that happens daily. These concerns or others could easily tax our faith in God. What fears we have could be based on awareness that we are not all that we might be or that we have not always been faithful to others or to God.

Instead of allowing fear to control our lives though, Jesus urges us to be prepared. But, he isn’t speaking only of that moment in the future when death will greet us. We should always be ready to meet God, not just in our dying moment, but in the present moment as well, especially moments when we are fearful.

The imagery Jesus uses of servants awaiting their master’s return reminds me of students in the classroom waiting for the teacher to show up. Some prepare for the upcoming lesson, while others will do whatever suits their fancy at the moment, perhaps presuming the teacher will not show up. They pass up any number of learning opportunities. So do we when we act as though God is not on hand to teach us a lesson through the people or events that enter our lives daily.  Pearl Bailey quipped, “People see God every day. They just don’t recognize him.”

Do you? Faith has the potential to shape our lives if we allow ourselves to notice that God is fully present in the people and events that surround us. Granted, not all the choices we make affect our relationship with God, but every time we make a moral choice without considering what God expects of us, we diminish our relationship with God. In his book, Markings,  Dag Hammarksjold observed, “we die on the day when our lives cease to be illumined by the steady radiance, renewed daily, of a wonder, the source of which is beyond all reason.”

And how are our lives to be illumined? Through daily prayer, which many people consider to be a waste of time but that is the paradox of prayer. Just as a friendship cannot grow unless time is invested, our relationship with God cannot thrive unless we invest time in prayer, which gives God the chance to advise us how best to handle the issues of our daily lives, whatever they are. Prayer allows us to let go of the past, cease worrying about the future, and live in the present moment.

The life we want to save is our eternal life but that can’t be done without faith in the God who unconditionally loves us. May our faith be stronger yet on the day we meet God face to face.