Homilies

If these scripture readings seem new and unfamiliar, that is because they are rarely heard. The last time was back in 2001. Too often by now we are in the midst of Lent, but since Easter is late this year, we are blessed with the opportunity to ponder its practical and important message.

We just heard some challenging words from Jesus and Sirach about being judgmental, superior, and hypocritical. Lest you think of yourself as innocent of any of these traits, Sirach offered us some pertinent insights about speech, which reminded me of the times I have regretted what I have said, wishing instead that I had kept quiet. Perhaps you have felt that way too.

Traditionally, we think of Jesus as a carpenter or the good shepherd but in this instance, he comes across as a wise sage who knows human nature quite well. The life lessons he teaches in his sermon on the plain are akin to homespun wisdom rooted in daily life and experience.

His parable is filled with aphorisms. An aphorism is a tersely phrased statement of the truth. In the first one, Jesus asks, “Can a blind person guide a blind person? Will not both fall into a pit?” He then cautions that people cannot teach until they have learned. This is true in every aspect of life, but particularly in the Church. In the Catholic Church we are blessed with a teaching authority that is learned. This authority is often given the Latin word for teacher and called the magisterium.

The magisterium consists of the Pope, the Bishops, theologians and consultants. The duty of the magisterium is to set the course for us to relate our faith and morals to the evolving times. We take this for granted because most of us have always been Catholic and have always had the body of our faith presented to us in a rather neat package. But dogmatic statements and Church teachings didn’t just happen. They evolved over many centuries as the Church continues to grow in its understanding of itself. Likewise, we need to keep growing in the knowledge of our faith.

When we have times of doubt, or times that we have difficulty understanding what we believe or why we believe, we have to go to books and knowledgeable people in the area. We also have to go to our knees and pray to the Holy Spirit to help us grow in faith. The blind cannot lead the blind. That is why we have been gifted with the Holy Spirit. That is why we have the magisterium.

The second aphorism is, “Why do you notice the splinter in your brother’s eye when you miss the plank in your own?” How often have we experienced the nitpicking nag who quickly points out the faults of others while conveniently overlooking his or her own? Psychologists might explain the second aphorism in this way: we tend to transfer our irritation over our own shortcomings to others. Thus we criticize another person’s faults as a way of hiding our own. The Lord was quite serious when he said, “You hypocrite! First deal with your own faults.” When we go through those negative days when everything other people do irritates us, we should take a step back and consider what we are doing that upsets others, and, even more, what we are doing that upsets us.

The concluding bit of wisdom is also based on lived experience. “A good tree does not bear rotten fruit nor does a rotten tree bear good fruit. For every tree is known by its fruit.” Can you expect to find figs on thorny bushes or grapes on prickly bushes? Of course not. The point of Jesus’ final aphorism is that just as each tree is known by its fruit, we are known by what we do and say. Simply put, good people do not do bad deeds.

We know that actions speak louder than words. When a person does good things, we know this is a good person. When a person is continually stirring up trouble, we know that this person is troubled. The fruit reveals the person. In the same way, it is not enough for us to say we are saved and then live as pagans. In fact, it is not enough to say we are saved. What we need to say is that we are in the process of being saved.

Our actions ought to reflect God’s gift to us. If they don’t, then we are in fact rejecting his offer of salvation. Yes, we always depend upon the mercy of God, but we have to respond to this mercy by doing our best to live the Christian life. If we don’t, than our actions will demonstrate the insincerity of our conversion.

Jesus used figurative language of splinters and wooden beams, figs and grapes, thornbushes and brambles to tell us that true disciples must practice what they preach; they must give evidence of their discipleship. Each person, Jesus concludes, speaks from the heart’s abundance. It is not enough for us to believe that God loves us or that Jesus died on the cross to save us. With these images, Jesus is asking, “Does your behavior reflect God’s love?”

In a few days we begin our Lenten journey. I need this Lent and I suspect you do too. Ashes will be placed on our foreheads, with the advice, “Repent, and believe in the gospel.” Lent is a good time to grow in our faith life, and to let the magisterium and Holy Spirit guide us. Lent is a time for us to look into ourselves, to ponder our efforts at living the Christian life and to evaluate if indeed our actions and words demonstrate whom we claim to be.

The encounter between David and Saul speaks of enmity and justice. That brings to mind the story of Corrie ten Boom. During WWII, Corrie and her family lived in the Netherlands, which was occupied by Nazi Germany. Like other Christians, her family risked providing a hiding place for Jews from the Nazis. They finally were caught and sent to a concentration camp. On New Year’s Day, 1945, Corrie was released after spending ten months at Ravensbruck, an extermination camp for women where her sister, Betsie, had died.

After regaining her health, Corrie set out to bring a message of love and reconciliation to war-torn Europe. Once, when she had finished speaking at a church in Munich, a man approached her. Corrie recognized the heavy set, balding man; he was one of the cruelest guards at Ravensbruck. Many haunting memories surfaced. She remembered the harsh lights and the forced undressing. She recalled the shame of walking naked past this guard and now he was standing there offering to shake her hand.

The former guard, not recognizing Corrie, explained what had happened since his days as a guard. He had become a Christian, and he knew that God had forgiven him for the cruel things he had done. But that wasn’t enough. Could Corrie, on behalf of once imprisoned women, forgive him?

At that moment, the words of Luke’s gospel came to mind. “Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you.” Corrie stood there for what seemed like forever. Finally with tears in her eyes, she cried, “I forgive you brother, with all my heart.”

The message for us from today’s readings is so clear and yet so difficult. We are told to be compassionate, even to our worst enemies and anyone who hates us. Corrie could do what seems impossible to us, because she believed in Christ’s words, “Love your enemies and do good to those who hate you. Be compassionate as your Father is compassionate. Forgive, and you will be forgiven.” 

This is no ordinary love that Jesus is talking about here; certainly not the sentimental love that we celebrated on Valentine’s Day. Rather, this is a radical kind of love, demonstrated for us by Jesus himself on the cross.

Years ago, in the magazine, US Catholic, the question of forgiveness was debated. The article noted that forgiveness is not easy. We are always practicing forgiveness and we always need to be forgiven. “Forgiveness,” it noted, “takes time. Forgiveness of self, others and God is a way of life that enables us to move on.” This is what Corrie discovered and this is what we need to discover for ourselves as well.

Many of those who responded to the survey agreed that “it’s a sin to withhold forgiveness,” yet they also admitted that forgiving someone can be very difficult. It is not easy to forgive but we certainly want to be forgiven, don’t we?

Sometimes in my role as a confessor, I need to make the point that forgiving and forgetting do not mean the same thing. The act may be too horrendous to forget but that does not dispense us from the wise counsel Jesus gives us.

Ultimately, we come out ahead when we forgive. It is for our sake that Jesus urges us to forgive those who have wronged us. Consider the consequences when we refuse to forgive. Who is hurt by all the bitterness? Does your refusal to forgive stop bad things from happening? Does your refusal to forgive protect you physically or emotionally? Does it pay back the person who hurt you? Does refusing to forgive help you to get even with the person who hurt you? Not likely.

When we refuse to forgive, we continue to hurt ourselves. From that darkness of bitterness and hurt, Jesus is trying to save us with advice that makes little sense yet does work. Forgiving others brings about the peace we yearn for.  Without forgiveness, a broken relationship has little chance of being restored.

We might be tempted to deny that we have any enemies but let’s not kid ourselves. In a world filled with sin, enemies are not hard to come by. When people make us angry, we make them our enemies. We also make enemies of those who insult us, cheat us, or even differ in opinion from us. In addition, we can be our own worst enemy by not loving ourselves. When things aren’t going well for us, we can easily make God an enemy as well.

Even if we deny having personal enemies, there could be some unnamed class of persons, such as those on welfare, immigrants, or members of an ethnic or religious minority. In short, an enemy is someone we refuse to love.

The love that Jesus often speaks of isn’t about feelings, nor is the love he speaks of about liking someone. For us to fully savor the experience of God’s love and forgiveness, we must do the same. And if that doesn’t come easy, then at least pray for the person who hurt you. Begin by asking God to bless that person just as you would ask God to bless those whom you love. In due time, your own heart may be healed of its bitterness, fear or prejudice.

Many of us make resolutions to follow during Lent, which is just days away. There are many good resolutions to draw from in today’s gospel. As Luke points out, “The measure you measure with will be measured back to you.”        

The opening line of the Declaration of Independence speaks to us of a dream many people have. “We hold these truths to be self evident: that all men are created equal; endowed by their creator with certain inalienable rights; that among them are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.”

Today, our country boasts being the most powerful nation in the world with its standard of living, its military might, its level of employment, and its natural resources. No wonder then that we are quick to say that God has blessed America. But are we happy? Apparently not.

Each year the UN, based on the Gallup World Poll, produces the World Happiness Report. The latest poll ranked the United States as 18th, falling four spots from two years ago, “in part because of the ongoing epidemics of obesity, substance abuse and untreated depression.”

Surprisingly, all the Scandinavian countries ranked in the top ten. Iceland, for example, ranked #4. How could this remote nation, isolated in the North Atlantic, which endures 20 hours of darkness each day during the winter, be so happy? One resident offered this explanation, “Our culture is colored by the harshness of nature. That is why Icelanders have a tolerant attitude to the problems of life.” This in turn gives them a strong sense of community.

Being blessed is the theme that runs through the readings today. In biblical Greek, blessed is translated to mean a person’s inner sense of happiness.

Up front, Jeremiah tells us some individuals are not happy because they trust solely in other people and in themselves. In doing so, they turn their hearts “away from the Lord.” Using some vivid images, he tells us that the unhappy person is like “a barren bush in the desert that stands in a lava waste, a salt and empty earth.”

So who are the happy people? Jeremiah then notes, “Blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord, whose hope is in the Lord.” They, he tells us, are like trees planted beside the waters with roots that go down deep. So lifegiving!

The refrain from the responsorial psalm echoes the same message, “Blessed are they who hope in the Lord.” They are happy because they do not follow the counsel of the wicked and sit in the company of the insolent. Happy individuals delight in the law of the Lord and meditate on God’s law. The formula we find here for achieving happiness is the same as what we heard from Jeremiah.

In the Gospel, we hear Luke’s version of the Beatitudes. You are blessed, Jesus said, if you are poor or hungry, saddened or hated. Excuse me, Lord? His statements go against the thinking of our times and even his. So, what gives?

Jesus isn’t saying, “If you want to be happy, be poor, be hungry, weep, be hated or be insulted.” However he recognizes that the poor and hungry are those who because of their circumstances see their need for God. So long as we are self-sufficient, we may not feel the crucial need to rely on God. In doing so, we risk becoming the deadest of the dead by seeking our relief in addictions that fail to satisfy us.

The American dream suggests a different approach to finding happiness than what Jesus proposes. Bigger is better, staying young and healthy is what matters, freedom is the highest good; look out for number one; and being successful are supposedly the keys to happiness. And if they don’t work we turn to addictions that can lead to obesity or substance abuse, the modern day woes that Jesus cautions against. The American dream is what many of us live by but as Jesus wisely points out, such conventional wisdom doesn’t offer what we really want deep down in our hearts.

Jesus would tell us that to the contrary, small is good; old age and ill health can be blessings as well; compassion, not freedom is the highest good. Look out for others for loving them as Jesus loves us is the key to finding happiness.

If we take Jesus seriously, we will come to realize power and affluence are two of the greatest threats to the Christian way of life. We live in a world that praises efficiency, glorifies success and worships power. Our culture claims that happiness comes from them and freedom from any sort of pain. The trouble with relying on such material resources to bring happiness is that, doing so does not always work.

Those who wrote the Declaration of Independence were right. The pursuit of happiness is an unalienable right for God loves us unconditionally. But the happiness that God envisions resonates with what one finds in the prayer of St. Francis, “Lord, make mean instrument of your peace. Where there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; and where there is sadness, joy.” St. Augustine once preached that happiness consists in the attainment of our desires, and, he emphasized, in having only the right desires.

These readings set before us happiness and misery with no ambiguity. Nothing can truly makes us happy if we turn away from God or disturb us if we trust in God. So, my friends, happy are we who hope in the Lord!

When God has an important message to get across to us, how do you suppose we receive it? A letter? A phone call? An e-mail message? A dream? A vision? A whisper?

In today’s readings, we find three engaging examples of ancient announcements God set to significant people. The vision of the Lord sitting on a lofty throne left Isaiah awed by such majesty. The sight of Jesus blinded Paul as he traveled to Damascus. After a long night of catching nothing, Peter hauls in a catch that nearly sinks his boat, leaving him dumbfounded.

Awed by such a sight, Isaiah bemoans, “Woe is me, I am doomed! For I am a man of unclean lips!” Paul admitted the error of his way when he confessed, “I am the least of the apostles, not fit to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the church of God.” Simon Peter reacts in much the same way when he begs Jesus, “Depart from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man.”

We remember these men for their holiness, not their sinfulness. In spite of how they see themselves before God, all three of them then accepted God’s call. When the Lord asked, “Whom shall I send?” Isaiah replied, “Here I am, send me!” Paul set right to work, working harder than any other apostle, proclaiming wherever he went that Jesus is Lord, claiming, “I have toiled harder than any of them.” Peter did the unthinkable, leaving behind his boat to follow Jesus.

When God called them, they didn’t hang up, or put God on hold. They answered. And the world is a better place today because they did.

Admittedly, God isn’t likely to use such extraordinary means to get our attention today. Very few, if any, of us have had a vision like Isaiah, or a knee dropping encounter like Paul did, or a fishing finale equal to Peter’s. instead God is likely to get in touch with us in a quieter manner.

God’s call is more likely to be that of a whisper than a thunderclap. God speaks to us in the living words of sacred scripture. Frequently God calls us through the voice of a friend, a parent, a counselor, a spouse, a relative, a teacher, or even a homilist. That is why listening is so important. In the midst of our noisy world, we must give God the chance to be heard.

When we have listened and heard the word of God, our reaction may be like that of Isaiah, Paul or Peter. We may think of ourselves as being unworthy, reluctant, or unwilling to respond, yet God will say to us, “I need you.”

The lesson here is about our vocation, which is to proclaim each in our own way, the good news of Jesus Christ. Jesus still needs roving ambassadors like Paul, and fishers like Peter to haul in those who have yet to be touched by his gift of salvation. Jesus needs you.

Certainly, Jesus is not calling most of you to be ordained or to the religious life or even to be lay ministers. However God is calling each one of us to work just as hard as Paul and Peter did to fill the boat of the church with renewed and new members. Do not be afraid to echo Isaiah’s response, “Here I am Lord, send me!”

Send me to share what I have with the less fortunate.
Send me to give a listening ear to someone who is hurting.
Send me to share the good news of your love and forgiveness with someone who is not baptized.
Send me to share the joy of the Eucharist with someone who is homebound.
Send me to feed the hungry.
Send me to proclaim the good news by teaching our faith to others.
Send me to protect the life of the unborn.
Send me to pray for those who see themselves as unworthy of your love.
Send me to give a helping hand to a neighbor.
Send me to share my talents so that others can see your majesty.
Send me to touch the lives of the unbelievers in our midst.
Send me to invite back those who are absent from our gathering.

Sin detracts us from being the good people God made us to be so I wouldn’t be surprised if my words have fallen on deaf ears and you are thinking to yourself, “Someone else can do that.” When we ignore God’s call to actively live our faith, we risk diminishing ourselves just as Isaiah and Peter once did.

That is the point a priest once made when visiting a member of his parish who was no longer attending Mass. As they sat in front of a blazing fire, he raked a flaming ember out of the fire. The two men sat in silence as they watched the ember die down, while the fire kept blazing. Getting the point, the man said that he would be back at Mass the following Sunday. He understood that alone it is nearly impossible to keep the flame of faith alive in our hearts.

So, imagine what an impact we could have on our own community as well as ourselves if we would all say honestly to God, “Here I am, Lord, send me!”

A well-known son returns home to a hero’s welcome. As we heard, all in the synagogue spoke highly of Jesus and were amazed at what he had to say. But soon the tide of popular opinion turns against him, but that is what Jesus expected. “No prophet,” he noted, “is accepted in his native place.” So long as he delivered what they wanted to hear, Jesus was welcomed but once he spoke the divine truth, in this case, that God’s kingdom welcomes everyone, both Gentiles and Jews as children of God, they drove him out of town.

Their reaction seems so outrageous. How could they go from a warm welcome to the “urge to kill” so quickly? To better understand their provincial feelings, consider this ancient Greek tale about a farmer who had a “perfect” wheat field. Everyone admired how every stalk was exactly the same height. When asked how he achieved it, he explained, “If a grain sticks its head above the others, I cut it off!”

The folks in Nazareth did the same thing. For thirty years they had known Jesus as the carpenter’s son. All that time, he had blended into their neighborhood. Now as a roving preacher and miracle worker, he stood out like an overgrown shaft of wheat, speaking a hard truth they didn’t want to hear that God’s favor also extended to the Gentiles. Going against their expectations of a Messiah, Jesus irked them so much that they drove him out of the town.

Before we pass judgment on the people in the synagogue for overreacting, consider our own reaction at times to the truth that God unconditionally loves all peoples. Might we be just as blind and narrow-minded to what God has to say today? Paul reminds us that loving is what being a follower of Jesus Christ is all about yet how often do we advocate issues that demonstrate anything but love? Racism, white supremacy, and opposition to immigration all suggest that like the people in Nazareth, not all of us want to hear, much less accept the truth. We act like the patient whose doctor told him the truth about his condition. “You are a very sick man. You probably won’t live more than a couple of weeks at most. You should settle your affairs. Is there anyone you want me to call?” The patient replied, “Yes, another doctor!”

When we don’t like what we hear, we seek a second opinion. How often as a child did you ask one parent for what you wanted if the other parent gave you the answer you didn’t want to hear?

When given a truth they don’t like, some people look for another “prophet” who will tell them what they want to hear. They leave the Church to find another one that will tell them what they want to hear instead of what they need to hear.

Obviously, Jesus was not a politician. Politicians assume their success depends on saying what people want to hear. As the first reading from Jeremiah hints, prophets are seldom popular for they tell hard truths, making people confront unpleasant realities. Unlike politicians, their authority comes from God, not popular opinion. Successful prophets often rub people the wrong way, just as Jesus did that day in the synagogue.

Two traits hinder our society’s ability to accept what Jesus has to say. The first is secularism, which doesn’t actually deny the existence of God but sends the message that God is irrelevant. The fact that so few Catholics attend Mass regularly is evidence that even many of them believe that lie.

Then there is relativism, the flawed notion that you have your truth and I have my truth. Without using an objective truth to measure either claim, this amounts to saying one opinion is just as good as another opinion. Thus, many opinions are promoted as being morally right when in fact they are not.

Opinions, not truth, often set the moral tone of our society. The most glaring example of that is abortion. Made legal by our Supreme Court 46 years ago, abortion is an immoral value that has numbed our society’s conscience. Despite the evidence modern medicine provides to show that an unborn child is a living human being, such objectivity doesn’t matter for those who refuse to accept the truth that life is sacred. Recently, 14 Catholic senators, including our two, voted against a bill that would outlaw late term abortions. If they had voted, as their faith would dictate, this cruel and horrible practice would have been outlawed. What’s next? Infanticide?

As followers of Jesus Christ, are we willing to accept the truth that God unconditionally loves everybody, regardless of gender, race, ethnicity, handicap and origin of birth?

Paul’s description of love is eloquent and thought provoking. Genuine love for anyone or any cause requires truthfulness. Ultimately, truth matters more than popular opinions do. Love gave Jesus and Paul the courage to always be truthful, no matter what. As Paul said, Love “does not rejoice with wrongdoing but rejoices with the truth.”

Clearly, Jesus did not flow with the current of his times, nor does he today. He always spoke the truth, knowing that it would not be politically correct or well received. He continues to speak the truth today, using the Church as his means to do so. God is counting on us to keep the divine truth alive. Like Jesus and Jeremiah, we should move through the crowds, confident that God will strengthen us to face the challenges we will meet for upholding God’s moral truths.