Homily: Monday, 12th Week in Ordinary Time

If you would like to view a video recording of this morning's Mass, click here: Monday, 12th Week in Ordinary Time.

The following is the text of my homily.

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Readings: 2 Kings 17:5-8,13-15; Ps 60; Mt 7:1-5 
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Back in high school, so many years ago, our chemistry teacher, Fr. McGowan (or was it Fr. Kane?…Well it was a long time ago) often begin chemistry class with a brief reading from the Sermon on the Mount.

I suppose, at first, we listened a little, but every day we listened a bit more…until finally we realized that Jesus was telling us to do a lot of things the world didn’t especially like. I’m sure it had a lasting effect on some of us, and others? Well, some reacted as many Christians still react to the Sermon on the Mount.

Oh, Jesus didn’t really mean all that…or…He was speaking allegorically…or Jesus was just exaggerating to make a point…and on and on we go…

Yes, we love to change Jesus’ words, to water them down, to qualify them. It makes us feel much better about our unwillingness to listen and obey. Instead of beginning with God’s Word, we begin with our own beliefs, and bend the Gospel to make it fit and support our particular agendas.

Consider today’s passage on judgment – it’s always made me feel more than a little uncomfortable. How often do I judge people? I can’t count the ways…and on such trivial things.

The driver who doesn’t notice the light’s turned green. 

The person in line at the supermarket who can’t seem to find her credit card.

The clerk in the department store who ignores me and continues his conversation with a coworker.

Yes, I judge them all. And who’s at the center of all these judgments? Why me, of course. I'm at the intersection; I'm in the checkout line; I'm waiting to be served. Of course, other judgments are not so trivial… 

The celebrity who flaunts a pornographic lifestyle, influencing millions of young people.

The Catholic politician who consistently and publicly opposes Church teaching.

The child abuser…the drug dealer…the terrorist…

Oh, I judge them all. Convict them. Condemn them. I watch the evening news, I read the newspaper, and I make judgments about others. Here, too, I place myself at the center. I decide if they merit forgiveness. I decide if there’s a reason for them to take up space in the world…in my world. And yet Jesus tells us:

“Stop judging that you may not be judged” [Mt 7:1]

Now, Jesus isn’t saying that if we stop judging others, they’ll stop judging us. Not at all. No, He’s telling us the only judgment that counts is God’s judgment. 

You see, when I judge others, I assume I’m the all-knowing, infallible judge. I try to make myself God. I suppose that’s the biggest beam in my eye.

We cannot define ourselves as judges and at the same time really believe in our deeper identity as sinners needing forgiveness and redemption. We go to confession, and say the right words, but do we believe what we say? Yes, sometimes we seem to be testing God, to see how far His forgiveness extends. 

Jesus had just told his listeners: 

“Be perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect” [Mt 5:48].

By refusing to judge others we allow God to teach us one of His perfections, that of mercy.

Refusing to judge doesn’t mean I abdicate my responsibility as a Christian. Far from it! Because where our neighbor is involved, we Christians can never be indifferent: We can judge, or we can forgive; we can exclude, or we can love. What other choices are there? 

In our humanity, we might object! 

I just want to do good. I want to help others overcome their faults. I want to heal others, to fix others, to go out into the world and contribute to its welfare.

Once again, the focus is on me, isn’t it? We judge and then we inject ourselves into others’ lives, assuming we possess God-like knowledge:

“Yes, I’m here to help. Let me remove the splinter from your eye, so you’ll be better, like me.”

We not only judge. We move right in don’t we? And we feel so good having helped – as a superior to an inferior, out of a pleasant sense of condescension – all the time forgetting that any real healing, any fixing, is done not by me, but by God. 

So, what’s the cure?

Quite simply, we must learn to serve one another as fellow patients afflicted with the same malady – the wounded helping the wounded.

We must learn to put on the mind of Christ, to see through the eyes of Christ, eyes that radiate love and forgiveness. Indeed, the greatest act of Christian charity is forgiveness.

But if I lead a life of forgiveness, as Christ did and taught, it’s not because of my own goodness; rather it’s because I am conscious of being continually forgiven by God. Instead of judging another, I can give thanks he or she is there to receive from me the pardon I’ve received from God.

The alternative? How did Jesus put it? 

“...the measure with which you measure will be measured out to you” [Mt 7:2].

Measure for measure…

Mother Teresa and the Unborn

Like Pope Francis, I know I'll have trouble now calling Mother Teresa "Saint Teresa." She has simply been Mother Teresa to the world for too long, and given her radical humility, I suspect the Church's newest saint won't mind if we continue to call her what we've always called her. Yes, she is a saint, but during much of her 87 years on earth she was also a loving mother to so many of God's forgotten children. Whenever I read that unique description of the last judgment found in Matthew's Gospel [Mt 25:31-46], I think of Mother Teresa who devoted her life to loving and caring for the least brothers and sisters of Jesus. "Jesus in disguise" she called them. She was truly a loving mother to all God's children.

If you happened to watch her canonization Mass on television yesterday, you will have heard the pope's wonderful homily in which he particularly stressed Mother Teresa's commitment to what she often called "the weakest, smallest, and most vulnerable" among us, the unborn. Sometimes, when I actually take the time to consider the truth about abortion, I find it almost inconceivable that such a horror can exist in a civilized society. To accept abortion as anything other than an intrinsically evil act demands a level of moral ignorance or outright depravity that is beyond comprehension. And yet millions of our fellow citizens seem to have little difficulty accepting this evil as a kind of human right. Imagine that! It becomes a human right to destroy another human being simply because he or she is inconvenient.

People speak today about the many evils that plague our world, but Mother Teresa knew that all these pale in comparison to abortion, the world's greatest evil. Abortion is really the overt rejection of God's love; for what is the gift of life if not the most obvious manifestation of God's love for us? And what is abortion if not its repudiation? I don't see how anyone who believes firmly in the right to abort an unborn child can accept the existence of a living, loving God. To believe in both demands some extraordinary moral and intellectual gymnastics. God's love and His command that we carry that love to others cannot coexist with abortion.

Mother Teresa, of course, knew that love is at the heart of God's call to humanity. In her own brief commentary on Matthew's last judgment, she once said:

I am not sure exactly what heaven will be like, but I do know that when we die and it comes time for God to judge us, he will not ask, "How many good things have you done in your life?" Rather he will ask, "How much love did you put into what you did?”

I remember my own mother once telling me, "What you do is important, but how you do it is even more important." It must be something mothers understand.

Among the more remarkable moments of Mother Teresa's life were those prophetic moments when she confronted the world's elites and revealed God's Word. I've included a few here.

Her Nobel Peace Prize acceptance speech (December 11, 1979) was a remarkable plea to the world to turn to God and accept His love and mercy. It was also a plea on behalf of the unborn:

"The greatest destroyer of peace today is abortion, because it is a direct war, a direct killing - direct murder by the mother herself. And we read in Scripture, for God says very clearly: Even if a mother could forget her child - I will not forget you - I have carved you in the palm of my hand. We are carved in the palm of His hand, so close to Him that the  unborn child has been carved in the hand of God. And that is what strikes me most, the beginning of that sentence, that even if a mother could forget something impossible - but even if she could forget - I will not forget you. And today the greatest means - the greatest destroyer of peace is abortion."

How interesting that this recipient of the Peace Prize would equate abortion with war and murder, and label it the "greatest destroyer of peace." I suspect that more than a few in the audience were squirming in their seats as they listened to this tiny, humble woman who commanded no armies but did not hesitate to remind them that they too would have to face God's judgment. Here is a video of her acceptance speech:

There were many similar occasions when Mother Teresa lovingly confronted those who had forgotten or neglected God's Word, but perhaps the most memorable was her appearance at the National Prayer Breakfast in Washington on February 3, 1994.  Her words to President and Mrs. Clinton and that gathering of politicians must have created a great deal of discomfort that morning as she called them to task. Many, perhaps most, were pro-abortion.

"If we accept that a mother can kill even her own child, how can we tell other people not to kill one another? How do we persuade a woman not to have an abortion? As always, we must persuade her with love and we remind ourselves that love means to be willing to give until it hurts. Jesus gave even His life to love us. So, the mother who is thinking of abortion, should be helped to love, that is, to give until it hurts her plans, or her free time, to respect the life of her child. The father of that child, whoever he is, must also give until it hurts.

"By abortion, the mother does not learn to love, but kills even her own child to solve her problems.

"And, by abortion, the father is told that he does not have to take any responsibility at all for the child he has brought into the world. That father is likely to put other women into the same trouble. So abortion just leads to more abortion.

"Any country that accepts abortion is not teaching its people to love, but to use any violence to get what they want. This is why the greatest destroyer of love and peace is abortion."

I've included a video of her talk here:

And today, two decades later, just look at our world and how violence has for too many become the means to getting what they want.

As the Church celebrates the heavenly canonization of Mother Teresa, another woman is hoping for a worldly celebration as a result of our presidential election on November 8. She too holds some strong, if radically different, beliefs about abortion. Here's what Hillary Clinton said earlier this year in a campaign speech to Planned Parenthood (Januay 6, 2016), the nation's largest abortion provider:

"Politicians have no business interfering with women's personal health decisions. I will oppose efforts to roll back women's access to reproductive health care, including Republican efforts to defund Planned Parenthood. As president, I'll stand up for Planned Parenthood and women’s access to critical health services, including safe, legal abortion."

Ah, yes, safe for the mother; deadly for the child. It would be interesting to hear Mother Teresa's response...

Homily: 16th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Satan Planting Weeds

Readings: Wis 12:13,16-19; Ps 86; Rom 8:26-27; Mt 13:24-43

OK, show of hands…How many sinners do we have out there? Hmm…not that many. If you’re not sinners, you can be only one other thing: you must be saints. And if that’s the case…well, I am truly honored to be in the presence of so much holiness.

You’re all very fortunate today, because Jesus prepared the first parable in our Gospel reading just for you. That’s right; the parable of the wheat and the weeds was aimed particularly at all you sinners who think you’re saints. Now, don’t feel too insulted, because I include myself right in there with you.

Notice that our Gospel reading ends with Jesus saying, “Whoever has ears ought to hear.” I guess He’s telling us that what He has to say about all this sinfulness and saintliness is pretty important. So let’s take a closer look at this parable and see if maybe it can help us correct that inflated opinion we tend to have of ourselves.

First of all, I want you to take on the role of one of the slaves. Now it’s not easy being a slave, always having to do what you’re told, even when you don’t understand or don’t agree. But God is a good and caring master. And He allows you to question what you don’t understand.

“Master, where did the weeds come from?” God explains that Satan, his enemy, sabotaged His work by planting weeds, by seeding the world with those who would cause only problems and strife. Well, naturally, we saintly sinners want to make things right. We want to go out into the field and rip out those weeds, along with anything else that might get in the way. Just turn us loose, God, and we’ll solve all your problems. Just let us do it now! For we’re the good and decent people; we’re the righteous ones; we’re the ones with ears to hear.

And look at how many weeds there are! What did Jesus call them? “Children of the evil one.” You see them in the newspapers and on TV. Why, it’s downright embarrassing. Their conduct, their ethics, their morality couldn’t be any lower. And they’re out there committing all these shameful sins right there in front of God and everyone. There’s certainly no room for people like that in His Church.

And look at the world. The weeds are taking over. Evil’s on a rampage. This can’t be the kind of world God wants. It's tempting, isn't it, sometimes dangerously and tragically so, to desire a perfect world -- to think that if humanity only got its act together we could eradicate evil and create a world without imperfections. At least that’s what the politicians tell us.

How ironic that our very imperfections cause us to think this way, to turn the imperfect into the evil, while we hide the true evils behind a curtain of political correctness. Execute the criminals; abort the unwanted; purge the inconvenient; eliminate the undesirables; cleanse the world of the imperfect. These are the world’s solutions, not God’s. And so God orders us to refrain from judging and purging, for He has a different idea. What He tells us to do seems downright foolish; and yet He insists.

“No weeding,” He says, “not now. I will wait instead for the harvest, and then I will do the separating, not you. I will decide between wheat and weeds.

“But there are so many weeds in the world today,” we complain, “so much evil, right here, right now —can’t we do anything; can’t we do something?”

Go and sin no more...

And God says, “No. Only I can see into the heart of each man and woman; only I can ensure a perfect yield from the harvest.”

We’ve been given a different job. “Go make disciples of all nations,” he ordered his disciples. Until the time of harvest we are to preach the gospel of repentance to ourselves and to the world. And that, brothers and sisters, is hard for us to take. Why can’t we do some of that judging, that purging? Aren’t we the good ones, the holy ones?

Okay, maybe we’re not always that good or that holy. Maybe we don’t spend much time reading God’s Word or deepening our prayer life – assuming, of course, that we even have a prayer life. Maybe our faith isn’t always as alive and vibrant as it should be. Maybe our children and grandchildren, our neighbors and friends, haven’t always seen our faith witnessed in the way we live. Maybe we don’t spend much time and effort helping the hungry, the homeless, the stranger, the imprisoned. After all, I take responsibility for my problems; why can’t they? And maybe, well, maybe we ignore those Church teachings we don’t agree with, those teachings on faith and morals that are just downright inconvenient.

Oh, but we do attend Mass every week…well, most weeks anyway. That must count for something. Yes, Jesus’ teaching can be a real stumbling block for us, can’t it?

Much better and comforting to think that there are just two kinds of people in the world: the real sinners – you know, the ones you see on the covers of the supermarket tabloids – and the rest of us, those of us who hardly sin at all, or whose sins are small.

The bad and the good. The outsiders – that’s them – and the insiders – that’s us. Those who have the ears to hear and those who don’t. Those who will make it to heaven and those who won’t.

Yes, it’s easy to begin to think that way. And it’s a mistake that’s been made many times before. Back in the 4th Century there was a widespread heresy called Donatism that claimed that the good seed in this parable referred to the members of the Church, and so by definition there could be no weeds, no sinners, in the Church. They believed the Church could be composed only of good people; the rest of the world was simply evil. They were a bit like the Pharisees of Jesus’ time; and it took a St. Augustine to correct them, explaining that neither humanity nor the Church can be divided into children of light and children of darkness.

We still hear echoes of this ancient heresy among some Christian groups who preach a kind of exclusivity: “Are you saved? If you’re one of us, you’re OK...otherwise…”

St. Augustine, of course, was right. We all have both light and darkness within us – the good grain and the weeds growing together. The Church is really a kind of hospital, where we can be spiritually healed and made ready for our eternal journey. It’s a place where sinners grow and change by God's grace. That growth in grace may be agonizingly slow, like grain hidden in the soil. But in its slowness it imitates the patience of God. For Jesus teaches that there’s still time…there’s always time.

We just love to judge

I once read an article about a young gang member from a broken family — no role models, no education, no opportunities, no hope, no future. One fateful day, in a fit of uncontrolled rage, he fatally stabbed his social worker, the one person who was trying to help him. Convicted of murder, he was sent to prison for life. Now middle-aged, he’s repented, sought forgiveness from his victim’s family, finished college, and was baptized and confirmed. Subject to man’s law, he’ll remain in prison, but today he’s nothing like the violent young man he once was; and can no longer be counted among the weeds.

Who would have predicted this outcome? Nobody but Jesus Himself. Yes, the Lord turns all things to good for those who love Him.

And so, brothers and sisters, there’s good news for us in this Gospel — really good news. We won’t be struck by lighting the moment we sin, for God responds patiently and lovingly. How blessed we are that we can look back, recognize our past sinfulness, and be forgiven in the sacrament of Reconciliation. How blessed we are that God is patient, that He gives us time to change, time to make amends.

Yes, if we’re truly honest with ourselves and with God, most of us will admit that we were once weeds, and some of us that we’re still weeds. We try to hide our secrets, our sinfulness, because we’re ashamed of what we’ve done. We struggle to trust others because we can hardly trust ourselves. We play games with the truth, and too easily separate our words from our actions. And, yes, there are days when we slip back into our weed-like behavior.

The result? Quite simply, it’s hard to tell the wheat from the weeds, isn’t it? And if you look carefully, you can find the weeds in each of us. And so we remain sinners living among sinners.

But the time will come when the sorting of the weeds from the wheat will be absolute and final, harsh and decisive. And, dear friends, make no mistake about it: We will all be judged. But that judgment belongs to the master alone, not to the servants. God is in charge, not us, and His judgment is nothing at all like ours -- something for which we should all be grateful.

God is both just and merciful. He’s eager to forgive, and provide us with the grace we need to overcome our sinfulness and do His will in the world. We need only ask. Yes, He’s willing to wait for our repentance, to wait until the very last moment, for His patience is almost inexhaustible. And we can thank God for that.

Praised be Jesus Christ, now and forever.