The occasional, often ill-considered thoughts of a Roman Catholic permanent deacon who is ever grateful to God for his existence. Despite the strangeness we encounter in this life, all the suffering we witness and endure, being is good, so good I am sometimes unable to contain my joy. Deo gratias!


Although I am an ordained deacon of the Catholic Church, the opinions expressed in this blog are my personal opinions. In offering these personal opinions I am not acting as a representative of the Church or any Church organization.

Monday, March 4, 2019

Homily: Monday 8th Week in Ordinary Time

Readings: Sir 17:20-29 • Psalm 32 • Mk 10:17-27
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Two more days...That's right, just tomorrow and then it's Ash Wednesday. I suppose the big question is: Are we ready?

I always think I'm ready. Look at me now. I spent the weekend on a deacons' retreat -- lots of prayer and contemplation, trying to step away from the confusions and busyness of my daily life and redirect my spiritual life. I came away all charged up for Lent, ready to follow through on all those promises, that repenting, that re-thinking, that conversion the Spirit asked of me.

But then I encounter the Gospel, a message I've encountered many time before, and yet it almost knocks me flat with its firm but unmistakably clear demands. 

Sometimes the Gospel shakes the very foundation of our world, turning everything we believe in upside down.

Sometimes it forces us to question the honesty and depth of our response to God's personal call, placing our lives in stark contrast to the lives we're called to lead. I know you heard it.
"It is easier for a camel to pass through a needle's eye than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God" [Mk 10-:25].
OK, maybe a little Jewish hyperbole, but like so many of Jesus' words, it's often misunderstood, misinterpreted and misapplied.

Some, trying to soften the metaphor and open Heaven's door a bit wider, claim the Needle's Eye was the name of a small gate in Jerusalem's walls. Maybe...but to focus on that misses the entire point of what Jesus tells us.

At the opposite extreme others assume wealth is the great disqualifier, that only the poor can enter the Kingdom of God. This, too, misses the point, and ignores Jesus' relationships with many who were far from poor.

Remember Zacchaeus, the tree-climbing tax collector in Jericho? "Lord, I give the poor half of my goods." Not all...but half. And still Jesus told him, "Today salvation has come to this house" [Lk 19:8-9].

And did Jesus tell His friends, Lazarus, Mary and Martha to dispossess themselves? Did He tell Nicodemus or Joseph of Arimathea that they were excluded from the kingdom because of their wealth?

Even John the Baptist, dressed in animal skins and eating only honey and locusts, told the crowd, "If you have two coats, give away...one" [Lk 3:11].

So is Jesus trying to confuse us? Or do His words betray a deeper meaning, something not so obvious when taken out of the context of His teaching?

What did his words mean to these 1st-century Jews? What exactly did He have in mind? And what does it all mean to us today?

It's little wonder the disciples were shocked by what they'd heard, for Jesus had just contradicted a powerful and long-standing Jewish tradition, in which wealth was seen as a sign of God's favor.

Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, were all wealthy men, blessed by God who enriched those He loved. 

\And hadn't Moses promised the Chosen People that if they obeyed God they'd prosper in a promised land where they'd lack nothing?

It's a common Old Testament tradition: if you feared God, if you loved Him, you'd be blessed with the good things of the earth.

Yes, you and I are astonished because we assume Jesus meant that entering God's Kingdom is hard, especially for the rich. 

But the disciples understood it as hard even for the rich, whom God has blessed. If even the rich, those whom God has blessed, cannot enter, then who indeed can be saved?

So when the rich young man approached and knelt before Jesus, the disciples were impressed. Wealthy, respectable, intelligent, self-assured -- a young man who'd been blameless keeping the Law.

Jesus, too, treated him affectionately. When asked, "Good teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life," Jesus didn't say, "Get rid of your wealth." No, instead he said, "Keep the commandments."

It is only when the man persists, saying in effect, "I've done that, but I want to do more," that Jesus looked on him with love. With love, just as he looks on you and me with love, even as He demands more of us.

Yes, Jesus loved him and in that love issued His unexpected and radical challenge:
"...one more thing you must do. Go and sell what you have and give to the poor; you will then have treasure in heaven. After that, come and follow me" [Mk 10:21].
The effect? 
"At these words, the man's face fell. He went away sad, for he had many possessions" [Mk 10:22].
He was so sure of himself, wasn't he? Brimming with confidence, pleased with his irreproachable life. He'd followed the rules, and done nothing wrong. Aware of his innocence before the Law, but unaware of his weakness before God. 

This day, for the first time, a great sacrifice was asked of him. But he lacked the heart for it. The peace that he sought was beyond his reach because he couldn't let go of his possessions. He saw the way, but feared the renunciation. And this fear, this failure to follow God's personal call, always produces sadness.

Jesus, of course, saw the weakness; as the Letter to the Hebrews put it: 
"Nothing is concealed from Him; all lies bare and exposed to the eyes of Him to whom we must render an account" [Heb 4:13].
What of this weakness? Was it the love of money and material possessions? Or a love of things over the love for others? Or something deeper?

Was it really that disordered, deep-seated self-love, a confused love that refuses to place God first, that will inevitably turn its back on Jesus. 

You see, Jesus doesn't fault the rich solely because of their wealth. No, His concern is for those of us who place anything ahead of God. Material things, in themselves, are good. The sin lies in excessive attachment, in trusting in them, in failing to realize that everything is a gift from God which must be shared for the good of others.

And that sin of attachment will cause you and me, like the young man in the Gospel, to turn our backs on God.

"I am the way, the truth, and the life" [Jn 14:6], Jesus tells us, and therefore nothing, absolutely nothing, should take precedence over Christ in my life, over His right to rule over my heart.Christ

What takes precedence in your life, in my life? Is it God's Will or like the young man, are we consumed by possessions or our financial worth?

Perhaps our lives center on a desire to be liked. But even human friendships, or a love for another, can manipulate us, strangle us, lead us away from God.

That which we place first in our lives - when it is not God - becomes a prison. Only when we place God first do we experience true freedom.

With that our material wealth or poverty matter little, for we are doing God's will, allowing Him to act in our lives. And with Him in charge, well...


"For men it is impossible, but not for God. All things are possible for God" [Mk 17:27].

God is calling each of us, brothers and sisters, and He never stops calling. Just as I am sure he never stopped calling the rich, young man. What did we read in Sirach earlier?
"How great the mercy of the Lord, his forgiveness of those who return to him!" [Sir 17:29]
Yes, indeed, in return for our response, for our submission to His Will, He promises a different kind of wealth, a treasure far greater than we can imagine.

But only arms that are empty of self can stretch out to receive that gift...just as Jesus did when He emptied Himself giving everything on the Cross.

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