Homily: 11 Sunday in Ordinary Time (Year B)

Happy Father’s Day to all the fathers here this evening.

Some of us were blessed to have strong, loving, and faithful fathers, men who struggled to support and lead their families through what were often difficult times and circumstances.

We remember, too, that no man is perfect and most of those imperfections are mere pieces of our humanity. 

And so, we thank God for all fathers, living and dead, and prayerfully lift them up to the Lord.

Now let’s turn to our readings...

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Readings: Ez 17:22-24; Ps 92; 2 Cor 5:6-10; Mk 4:26-34

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What is this “Kingdom of God” about which Jesus always speaks?

Most of us tend to associate worldly kingdoms with places, but God’s Kingdom is not a place like the United Kingdom, or even The Villages. And contrary to the advertising, The Villages is not paradise.

Perhaps a better translation of God's Kingdom is, “The Reign of God.” Fortunately, Jesus tells us a lot, so if we listen to Him, we can learn something about God’s reign.

He tells us it’s near and to pray for its coming. And in parables He tells us what it’s like: like leaven, a pearl, a net, hidden treasure, and even a mustard seed. He compares it to a landowner and a king. But He doesn’t explicitly tell us what it is, does He? What exactly is this Kingdom, this Reign of God?

Back then, some people thought they knew. For the Pharisees it was strict adherence to Mosaic Law. The Zealots, the Jewish revolutionaries of Jesus’ time, thought of it as an earthly kingdom to come, ruled by God. The Essenes, ascetic Jews, had withdrawn into the desert to await the Kingdom, the end of the world…and then what? They weren’t really sure.

Yes, they all saw the Kingdom differently. But hundreds of years earlier, through Ezekiel, both priest and prophet, God spoke His Word to His people, also in a kind of parable. God gave them a hopeful glimpse of His Reign using the metaphor of a tender shoot planted on a mountain – where “it shall put forth branches and bear fruit, and become a majestic cedar.” In that Kingdom, God tells us, He will bring low the high, and will lift high the lowly. Who knew that the tree was a Cross on the hill of Calvary, lifting high the fruit of salvation?

Note Jesus’ very first words in Mark’s Gospel:

“The kingdom of God is at hand. Repent, and believe in the gospel.”[Mk 1:15]

These are important words. After all, they’re the first words He preaches in His public ministry. So, what do they tell us?

Well, one word jumps out at us: the world “Repent!” John the Baptist used it often as he roamed about Judea preparing the people for Jesus’ coming. And Peter, filled with the Holy Spirit on Pentecost, told the Jews gathered in Jerusalem from all over the world, “Repent and be baptized…”

In the original Greek New Testament, the word is metanoia, meaning repentance, a change of mind. “Repent,” then, is a pretty good translation: to repent, to re-think, to think again, to think differently. Jesus, John, and Peter are all telling us to change, to undergo inner change.

In past earthly kingdoms, the King’s subjects served him, and paid him homage and obeisance. Applying this to God’s Kingdom, we are called first, to turn away from ourselves, and turn to God. We use the word “conversion,” which has its roots in the Latin word meaning, “to turn around.” True repentance, then, is a complete change of thinking, a turning around of mind and heart.

St. Paul expresses this same idea when he writes:

“…put away the old self of your former way of life…and be renewed in the spirit of your minds” [Eph 4:22-23].

Because our God is Who He is, in that turning we find the answers to all that we seek: peace, freedom, justice, forgiveness, true happiness, eternal life. These answers don’t come from the world, a world in which everything passes away. No, they come only from God, from the Father, the source of all that is good. 

And this, brothers and sisters, is the Good News. The Kingdom is near; God’s reign is near. Because the Risen Jesus is here, so too is the Father, and the Holy Spirit who does God’s work in the world. The invitation to the Kingdom is extended to everyone. Jesus opens the gates of His Kingdom to all of us, no matter our sins.

We need only “repent, and believe in the Gospel” – conversion and faith. We need only turn around, away from our sinfulness and to our loving Father. The Father’s kindness, His forgiveness, His love for each of His children knows no limits. As Jesus told us:

“…seek His kingdom, and these other things will be given you besides [Lk 12:31].

Again, this is the Good News: the coming of the God’s Reign is Jesus’ revelation that God is love. But we’re not called simply to sit back, bask in God’s love, and enjoy the view. No, we’re all called to take that love to others, to be “God-bearers”, to be heralds of the Kingdom.

Whether you’re retired or work for a living, you might be thinking, “Wait a minute. This is God’s Kingdom we’re talking about, and I’m just one person tucked away here in central Florida.” You and I might not know the fulness of God’s plan for us, but we’re not called to sit on our hands.

Just consider the mustard seed in today’s Gospel. Small, insignificant, and yet it’s a seed, filled with potential. It need only be planted in the earth. Watered and nurtured by God’s gifts of rain and sunlight, the tiny seed becomes a plant so large the birds dwell in it.

In a sense, our Gospel takes us back to Genesis, when God took a piece of earth, and breathing His Spirit into it, created Adam. One meaning of the Latin word humus (who’-muss) is earth. Yes, we are human, from humus, created from the earth. And God plants that tiny seed in the earth, in you and me, where it’s a living sign of the Kingdom to come.

God does all the work to make it grow. We need only turn to Him and accept it. We need only repent, walk by faith as Paul instructs us, place our trust in Him, and allow the Spirit to work within us. He will turn that seed of faith into something wondrous, something beyond our comprehension.

In one of his books, Pope Benedict wrote about the Kingdom present in three different ways.

It is present in Jesus Himself. Jesus is the Kingdom; He is God’s presence among us. It is also a reflection of God’s reign within us, in our inner being, growing and reaching out to others. Finally, the Kingdom is expressed in the Church, its continued presence in history’s time and place. And often, we see it manifested in all three dimensions.

When I was lad, a blind man in our town had a shack, a newsstand, near the railroad station. He sold newspapers, magazines, cigarettes, and candy. In those days, long before political correctness, everyone just called him Blind Joe. He didn’t mind. In fact, the sign over his shack read, “Blind Joe’s.”

One winter day his space heater shorted and caused a fire that destroyed the shack. Joe lost everything. But the very next day one of our parishioners provided all the funds to rebuild the newsstand and recruited a local builder to do the job. Within three days it was rebuilt and restocked with all new inventory. It must have cost several thousand dollars, a lot of money back in the fifties. An anonymous gift, even Joe didn’t know who the donor was. Only our pastor and a few others, including my dad, knew. And Dad never told me. 

A local reporter interviewed Joe, and asked him, “What do you think of the men who did this for you?” Joe just said, “I thank God for those men, but it was really Jesus.”

With those words Blind Joe echoed the psalm we just sang, “Lord, it is good to give thanks to you,” and then proclaimed the meaning of the kingdom. Yes, it’s Jesus, His Reign in the world, manifested through you and me. As a living sign of the Kingdom of God, that parishioner, and the others who helped him, did the work of the King, the work of Jesus Christ. The reign of the living God was present within them.

You see, brothers and sisters, the Kingdom is you and I; and Christ is our King. The Kingdom is what we are, the Church, taking Jesus Christ into a world that needs Him so very badly today.

May the peace of the Kingdom be with you all.

 

Homily: Friday, 10th Week in Ordinary Time (Year 2)

 Readings: I Kgs 19:9a,11-16; Ps 27; Mt 5:27-32

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A few days ago, as I read today’s readings, I found myself recalling many of the conversations I’ve had with atheists and agnostics over the years. In almost every one of those conversations I could detect a subtle, but very real, hope that God does exist. As one young self-declared agnostic said to me, "It would certainly make life more understandable, knowing there’s a God behind all this. As it is now, for me, life is pretty meaningless.”

Yes, without God, life becomes meaningless, just a physical, chemical accident. And yet that hint of hope has always been there. It’s really the same desire expressed in today’s psalm, a Psalm of David, sung 3,000 years ago:

I long to see your face, O Lord.

We all seek God, to see Him, to as know Him, and it’s true even for those who don’t believe in Him. As my mom use to say, “Hope can lead us to faith; otherwise, we’re just consumed by fear.”

Perhaps St. Augustine, who took a rather odd, winding path to the Catholic Church, put it best: “…our hearts are restless until they rest in you.”

Yes, we’re all on a pilgrimage, brothers and sisters, even those who aren’t fully aware of it. We can wander aimlessly, achieving little, or we can open our hearts to the Spirit and let Him lead us.

A few weeks ago, in one of our Bible Study sessions, a participant, concerned about a tragic event described in Genesis, asked me: “Why would God do that? Why would He let that happen?” Well, we discussed the event hoping to achieve some understanding of God’s purpose. But in truth, what I wanted to answer him with: “How do I know? I’m not God!”

That’s really not a bad answer. So often, we simply underestimate our all-powerful, all-knowing God, whose ways are so far above us. As the Archangel Gabriel said to our Blessed Mother: “nothing will be impossible for God” [Lk 1:37]. I suppose the question for us is do we believe that? Or are we like Peter when Jesus rebuked him:

“You are thinking not as God does, but as human beings do” [Mt 16:23].

Just consider Elijah in today’s reading. Hunted by enemies who sought his death, in particular a rather evil queen Jezebel, Elijah seemed to have had enough, enough of everything, enough even of life. He actually hoped to die. But fed by angels, he obeyed God and made his way to Horeb, God’s holy mountain. There, God asked him:

“What are you doing here, Elijah?”

The prophet, zealous and faithful, told the Lord what He already knew “I alone am left, and they seek to take my life.” He was afraid and alone. So, God put on a remarkable display of His power. Then, when the noise and violence had ceased, Elijah encountered the God of Creation – as one translation put it – in a “sound of sheer silence.”

God passes by like a soft breeze and the man covers his face because God has not yet become man. Only then will we see Him in the flesh, face to face. And only then will we adore Him as well in the gift of His Eucharistic Presence. And that’s what the world needs today. With senses inundated by the noise of this world, how can people recognize Him as He passes by? How can they see His face or hear the sheer silence of His holy Word?

Elijah Hides His Face

Elijah, whose faith was beyond question, was often left in the dark by God. Yet the Spirit was always there, leading and aiding the prophet as he tried to accomplish all these missions he’s been given. God expects obedience, and in a sense says: “Just do what I say, and I’ll handle everything else.” For Elijah, God’s immediate purpose becomes clear over time. But His ultimate purpose looks ahead 1,000 years, pointing to something new and wonderful: humanity’s redemption by Jesus Christ.

How about us? Are you and I prophets? Are we courageous enough to evangelize, to be God’s messengers, to speak His Word to the world? Yes, we’re called to do just that. But like Elijah and Jesus we face a culture, a culture of death, that screams its lies at us.

In our Gospel passage Jesus gets the attention of the crowd with His vivid images of plucking out eyes and cutting off hands. He’s not encouraging bodily mutilation, but He is he’s telling them: this is serious stuff; pay attention.

Then stressing the sixth commandment, Jesus really addresses the dignity of every person, the respect people should have for each other. We cannot simply use others for personal pleasure or to satisfy appetites. For Jesus is really addressing the nature of love, which is not just an emotional feeling, or a physical attraction. As anyone who’s been married a while realizes, true love demands a continual decision.

In contrast to today’s cult of self-absorbed pleasure seeking, the Gospel sets high standards. Not only does love demand faithfulness but it also calls us to be chaste in both thoughts and actions. Interesting too is that Jesus puts men and women on a morally equal level, which later causes some dismay among His disciples.

Today we often encounter the painful breakdown of marital relationships. While each case must be treated with pastoral sensitivity, we cannot neglect the fundamental values Jesus stresses here.

I suppose it’s all encompassed in Jesus’ first words of His public ministry:

"Repent, and believe in the Gospel" [Mk 1:15].

Yes, indeed, we must change our hearts and minds, and accept the Gospel, the Good News of Jesus Christ in our lives.

Homily: Mass and Healing Service

Yesterday evening our parish celebrated Mass followed by a healing service. We had a good crowd of folks who sought healing for themselves and for others. My homily follows. 

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Readings: 2 Tim 2:8-15 • Psalm 25 • Gospel: Mk 12:28-34

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Good evening, everyone. Praise God. Praise Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

And thank God for His Presence here tonight, and especially for His Holy Spirit Who does God’s healing work in the world.

You know, when you read the four Gospels carefully, you soon come to realize that Jesus actually healed thousands of people during His public ministry. We’re told very little, almost nothing, about the vast majority of these healings. We’re simply told that Jesus cured everyone who came to Him...and that, again and again, He spent hours healing those who suffered from every kind of disease or disability, giving sight to the blind, freeing others from evil spirits. This steady crowd of people came to Jesus in their sufferings, or they took others to Him, and He cured them all.

And yet the Gospel provides details on just a few of these healings. In almost every instance, these healings, these details reveal something important about the human condition, about faith, about God’s love for us and the response He expects from us. 

In a sense, these physical healings are almost byproducts of something far greater. They are signs pointing to the deeper spiritual needs of all those who come to Jesus. They also point to the gift of faith God offers to each of us, to the depth of His love for us, and to need for a response. And that response is beautifully described in today’s Gospel passage from Mark.

Mark tells us of a scribe who comes to Jesus with a question. It’s no secret that many scribes and Pharisees were very hostile to Jesus. This is evident throughout the Gospel. But not every scribe and Pharisee. John, for example, tells us of Nicodemus, a Pharisee who came to Jesus seeking the truth. 

And in today’s passage the scribe who approached Jesus seemed anything but hostile. Was he, like so many others, simply testing Jesus, seeing if He would say something that could be used against Him later? It doesn’t seem so. Indeed, he seems to be honestly seeking the answer to a question that centers on a subject of real disagreement among learned Jews. He asks Jesus: “Which is the first of all the commandments?” Jewish Law included over 600 commandments. Which of these was “the first,” the most important?

Without hesitation Jesus goes deep into the Torah. He turns to chapter 6 of Deuteronomy and to a key portion of the Shema, the very centerpiece of Jewish prayer, and replies:

“The first is this: Hear, O Israel: the Lord our God, the Lord is one; you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.”

But Jesus doesn’t stop there. He then turns to Leviticus, chapter 19, and adds another:

“The second is this: You shall love your neighbor as yourself.”

The scribe seemed pleased with the answer and expressed full agreement. Our Lord, in turn, tells the scribe: “You are not far from the Kingdom of God.”  Did this scribe become a disciple? Mark doesn’t tell us, but I’ve always believed he did.

By including two commandments in His answer, Jesus reveals that the two are inseparable.  Yes, loving our God is first, but we must also love our neighbor, made in God’s image and likeness. Jesus later refined this law, making neighbor all-inclusive, as described in His parable of the Good Samaritan. We are called to love, to love everyone, and to ensure we understand, Jesus offers His life for us, for all of humanity, on the Cross.

This, then, is what God expects of us.

“No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s friends.” [Jn 15:13]

Isn’t it wonderful how God likes to keep things simple, especially the truly important things. If you want to complicate something, just give it to a human, and you can be sure we'll make it unintelligible. God, on the other hand, tells us, “Just do this and all will be well: Love God and love each other.”

I said it was simple, and it is. But that doesn’t mean it’s easy. Yes, indeed, it’s hard to focus all our attention on God and neighbor when we’re so wrapped up in ourselves. So, then, what does all this have to do with healing? Actually, quite a lot.

Many of you are here tonight to seek healing. Some seek physical healing because you’re suffering from a life-altering illness or disability. Others are here to plead for the healing of another, whether physical, mental, spiritual or all three. Some of you may be suffering through a spiritual crisis and seek the grace to resolve it. We’re come here this evening for a variety of reasons, but every single one of us needs healing of some sort.

That leads to my central theme: the merging of healing and love. I think this merger was best described by that great American storyteller, Flannery O’Connor. She was a Catholic girl from Georgia, who wrote remarkably unforgettable short stories and novels of sin, repentance, forgiveness, and salvation. She died in 1964 at the age of 39 after a battle with lupus that lasted her entire adult life. But in the midst of it all, she wrote:

“You will have found Christ when you are concerned with other people’s suffering and not your own.”

Yes, as I said earlier, love is simple, but it ain’t easy. For example, how many of you, right now, are pleading with God to heal those seated all around you tonight? I know, it’s not easy to look beyond oneself when you’re really hurting.

Some years ago, while making my rounds as chaplain of the day at The Villages Hospital, I entered the room of one of our parishioners. A widower with a serious illness, he was lonely and afraid. As I prayed with him for healing, he didn’t seem all that comfortable with the whole process. His expression gave it away -- one of those "waste of time" looks. Anyway, before leaving I gave him a blessing and told him I’d add him to the parish prayer needs list. “Oh, no,” he said. “I don’t want people to know I’m sick. I’d like to keep it quiet.”

Now Diane and I usually ministered together as co-chaplains, but she couldn't join me that day. As expected, without her to stop me, I did something dumb.

“Oh, okay,” I said and left his room.

After visiting a few more patients, I entered another room to find it crowded with visitors. I said I’d return later, but the patient, an elderly woman, said, “Don't leave. Come on in and join the crowd.” So, I did. And it certainly was a crowd: family, neighbors, members of her Baptist church, her pastor...and now me.

Introducing herself, she laughed, “I’ve got so many things wrong with me, they don’t know where to start. But I can’t complain; God’s let me live a lot longer than I ever expected.” I asked if I could pray with her, and the whole crowd joined hands. We prayed for healing and peace, for doctors and nurses. We thanked God for friendship and for the gift of discipleship, for those who listen to the Lord when He says, “I was…ill and you cared for me…”

Before leaving, I remarked that she was blessed to have so many people caring and praying for her. “Yes,” she said, “I am blessed. Their prayers let me know that I am loved, that I belong.”

Listening to her I was reminded of Simone Weil, a brilliant, young French philosopher, who escaped from the Nazis. She once wrote:

“Love of God is pure when joy and suffering inspire an equal degree of gratitude.”

Yes, two very different people, Simone Weil, born Jewish, but Catholic by conviction, who died in exile in 1943 at the age of 33; and this 91-year-old Baptist woman in central Florida – and yet they both came to know and accept this truth about the love of God.

When I left her room, I returned to the room of our parishioner, and sat down next to his bed, and said something like this:

You are lonely and afraid. But God wants you to love and be loved. He wants you joyful, even in your illness, not fearful. Don’t let pride separate you from others. Baptism made you an adopted child of the Father, a member of the Church, the community of the faithful. The prayer of that community brings healing and the joy promised by the God who loves you. By letting the parish community pray and care for you, you further God’s plan for their salvation and that of the world.

Anyway, after my little Spirit-inspired homily, he agreed to be prayed for. As I left, I asked him to pray for Alice, the Baptist woman down the hall. He looked confused, so I said, “Just pray for her. Her joy will bring you healing.” 

And I think of these two patients now as I stand here before this community of the faithful. We are gathered in communion, gathered in Jesus’ holy name, in His Eucharistic presence; and through that communion we are graced with healing today.

Accept God’s presence here. Don’t resist the Spirit. Let Him move where He wills within you. Open your heart to Him today. For it’s through the Spirit, through Him alone, that you will receive the healing God wants for you, that you will come to know God’s will for you.

God’s command to love God and neighbor, calls you and me to be both healed and healer. Yes, indeed, each of us is called to be a healer in need of healing. Pray for all these others, here and elsewhere, who seek the healing power of God. And realize, God always heals the human spirit first. In our sinfulness we need healing of the soul, for only that can bring us eternal life.

What does our love for God and neighbor yield? St. Paul said it best in perhaps his most famous words:

We know that all things work for good for those who love God, who are called according. [Rom 8:28]

God 's peace.