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.

Wednesday, October 18, 2023

Homily: Thursday, 28 Week in Ordinary Time

Readings: Rom 1:16-25; Psalm 19; Luke 11:37-41

In my previous parish, a retired bishop who summered in our town used to help us out by celebrating one of the Sunday Masses. One Sunday, just before the dismissal, the bishop blessed a couple who were celebrating their 50th wedding anniversary. As you might expect, after the blessing the entire congregation applauded.

After Mass a parishioner approached me in the parking lot. He was very upset because of the applause which he felt was entirely out of place at Mass. At first, I thought he was joking, and my reaction probably wasn’t what he’d hoped for. He went from upset to furious. I tried to calm him down by explaining that when something especially good happens in the lives of members of our parish community, it’s entirely appropriate for the community to share in their joy. Applause is simply our culture’s way of expressing that joy. And doing so at the end of Mass, right before the dismissal, is also appropriate. It didn’t work. Family in tow, he stormed off to his car. I should have asked him why he complained to me and not to the bishop. I’m just a deacon.

Sadly, he always seemed to come across as a dour, joyless person, more focused on others’ faults than on the good in them. I didn’t doubt his faith, but I didn’t see a lot of Christian love there. But he seemed to be devout, and because only God knows his heart, I won’t judge him. We all have some of the Pharisee in us – some more, some less – and I mention this man because it seemed a bit more evident in his case.

In today’s Gospel reading Luke describes a meal Jesus had at a Pharisee’s home. I find it interesting that, for a group who didn’t trust or like Jesus very much, the Pharisees seemed to have Him over for dinner a lot. Well, as it turned out, Jesus neglected to perform the ritual washing before dinner – an omission that offended his host. I’m sure Jesus didn’t forget, but did this intentionally to put the spotlight on the man’s hypocrisy. Certainly, that was the result.

Our Lord used some harsh words in His rebuke:

“…you Pharisees! Although you cleanse the outside of the cup and the dish, inside you are filled with plunder and evil. You fools! Did not the maker of the outside also make the inside?”

Of course, He’s no longer talking about cups and dishes. He’s talking about the human heart. Jesus isn’t criticizing the ritual washing itself. No, He’s criticizing the Pharisee’s placing more importance on the ritual than on obeying the commandment to love God and neighbor.

For example, as Catholics we observe many rituals. We’re observing one now by following very specific rubrics as we celebrate this rite today. And this is as it should be, because the rite is as old as the Church itself, designed to bring us closer to God through hearing His word and receiving Jesus in the Eucharist. But the ritual is a means, not an end. The end brings us into communion with Jesus. When we let this happen, Jesus becomes one with us, and transforms our hearts and minds. In other words, what we do on the outside should help us change on the inside.  But when we focus solely on the externals, we break this connection.

Although not directed at Pharisees, Paul’s words today could be applied to them as well:

“…for although they knew God, they did not accord him glory as God or give him thanks. Instead, they became vain in their reasoning, and their senseless minds were darkened. While claiming to be wise, they became fools…”

Yes, we're all Pharisees sometimes, focused on the outside. And the more devout we are, the more susceptible we are to this not so little vice. We become so focused on the externals, that we neglect the internal. We can get so wrapped up in our devotions and rituals that our focus shifts to ourselves at the expense of others.

We won’t get to heaven by just worrying about ourselves and our own salvation. It’s another of those great Christian paradoxes: we’ll only reach our goal if we forget about ourselves and devote our efforts instead to helping others achieve theirs. When I talk with engaged couples, I always tell each of them, that their most important task is to help the other get to heaven. That's what true love is all about.

Gerard Manley Hopkins, the 19th Century Jesuit poet, frequently corresponded with the poet laureate of England, his friend Robert Bridges. Bridges, an agnostic, once wrote, asking Hopkins how he could learn to believe. I suppose he expected some deep theological answer. Hopkins replied in a letter with only two words, the words Jesus left with the Pharisees: “Give alms.”

Yes, brothers and sisters, give alms. Care for others. Wash some feet. Imitate Jesus. Heal, forgive, and serve each other. Then everything will be clean for you, inside and outside.


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