Bible Study Reflection #21: Do Angels Laugh?

 “For he will give his angels charge of you to guard you in all your ways” [Ps 91:11]

I’ll begin with a story, a true story about an event that happened almost 40 years ago.

For 25 years Diane and I and our four children lived on Cape Cod in a large 200-year-old house. Late one December 23^rd an ember made its way through a crack in the masonry of our old fieldstone fireplace and set the wooden wall between garage and family room on fire. Fortunately, the smoke alarm awakened Diane (who then shook me awake) and we were able get all the children outside. Well, almost all the children.

Diane sent the youngest, our two boys, along with the dog, out the main front door. Our younger daughter, Siobhan, was on a sleep-over at a friend’s house, but Erin, our eldest, was asleep in her room at the other end of the house. Diane awakened her and told her to go downstairs and out the other front door. (It was a rambling old house with four stairways, two front entrances, and another four or five outside doorways.) I had been in the kitchen calling the fire department when Diane found me. The two us then joined the boys who were trying to stay warm in our car parked in the driveway.

Moments later Erin arrived and asked if one of us had laughed at her when she almost fell off the porch. Of course, none of us had laughed because we were already outside. No one else was in the house.

We were having work done on that old porch and the steps had been removed, the reason why Erin almost fell. The outside door was also being worked on, and to keep it closed that evening we had put a screwdriver through the bolt lock at the top of the door. Suddenly recalling the screwdriver wedged tightly in the bolt, we asked Erin, who was about 12, how she had opened the door since she probably couldn’t reach the screwdriver. She knew nothing about a screwdriver and said the door opened easily. But forgetting that the steps were gone she almost fell off the porch. That’s when someone behind her laughed aloud. The next day I found the screwdriver in the center of a coffee table about 10 feet from the door.

Oh, yes, a fire engine happened to be just two blocks away on a false alarm at a local B&B and arrived at our home within minutes. We lost the garage – an old, dirt-floor one-car affair built back in the 1920s that we used for storage – but they saved our wonderful old home. We had a thankful, if a bit smokey, Christmas.

Do angels laugh? Oh, yes, they certainly do. And why not? After all, they spend eternity looking after the most laughable of all God’s creatures. I suspect the work of guarding and guiding us yields many laughable moments, which they occasional share with those they protect. Erin grew up, earned undergraduate and graduate degrees, taught Navajo children at a New Mexico mission school, taught inner-city children in San Bernardino, then married and now has five children of her own. She was protected for a reason.

Do you believe in angels? I hope so because they are marvelous creatures. But far too many Christians never even think of them. Some years ago, I attended a seminar conducted by a highly respected scriptural scholar. It soon became apparent he didn’t accept the miraculous, the existence of angels, or any manifestation of the supernatural found in Sacred Scripture. He attributed all of these scriptural references to over-zealous piety among Jews and early Christians. Exasperated, I finally raised my hand and asked him what he did believe in?

“Do you believe in the Trinity, in Jesus Christ, the Son of God, in the Resurrection, in Christ’s Eucharistic Presence?”

He laughed and replied, “Of course.” And then proceeded to cast doubt on each. In humility, and infected perhaps with a touch of cowardice, I just shut up. But how sad for him, that the object of his life’s work had become essentially meaningless. After all, if he rejects so much of Sacred Scripture, believing it to be false, in what part of Scripture can he believe? Where does he draw the line between that which he accepts and rejects?

As for me? I’ve witnessed hundreds of miracles in the lives of so many people, including my own, that I am certain of the miraculous. And angels? Well, I’ve had encounters that remove all doubts.

But like our scholar, so many today, even many who claim to be believers, seem to think that God doesn’t (or can’t) act in the world. That a Christian could believe this is strange indeed, since the Incarnation, a central belief of Christianity, is God’s ultimate act. Through the Incarnation God enters the world in the person of Jesus Christ, the Lord of History, the Creative Word of God.

Sacred Scripture also shows that God uses others to carry out His eternal plan. Not surprisingly, when God calls on men and women, their sinfulness often gets in the way and He must exercise His power to ensure His will is fulfilled. But when God calls on His angels, it is God Himself who acts, for no creatures are more faithful doers of God’s Word than the angels.

Sacred Scripture is filled with angels. We even find them in Genesis doing God’s just work at the very beginning of human existence.

“The Lord God therefore banished him from the garden of Eden, to till the ground from which he had been taken. He expelled the man, stationing the cherubim and the fiery revolving sword east of the garden of Eden, to guard the way to the tree of life” [Gn 3:23-24].

And they appear as well in Exodus when God assigns an angel to protect His Chosen People and guide them to the Promised Land:

See, I am sending an angel before you, to guard you on the way and bring you to the place I have prepared. Be attentive to him and obey him. Do not rebel against him, for he will not forgive your sin. My authority is within him. If you obey him and carry out all I tell you, I will be an enemy to your enemies and a foe to your foes. [Ex 23:20-22].

When God says, “My authority is within him,” He means exactly that: all that the angel does, he does in God’s holy Name. God extends His complete trust to His angels, even allowing them to wield divine power. We encounter this angelic protection manifested again and again throughout the Old and the New Testaments.  

Perhaps my favorite angel passage in the Gospels is in Matthew where we find the disciples, once again displaying their pride, asking Jesus,

"Who is the greatest in the Kingdom of heaven?" [Mt 18:1]

But Our Lord, knowing their hearts, again calls them to deep humility, to kenosis – the emptying of self that Paul described to the Philippians [Phil 2:6-8]. Just as the divine Jesus humbled Himself through the Incarnation and His passion and death, so too must His disciples, and that's you and me, be childlike in our humility. We must empty ourselves of ourselves.

To emphasize this, Jesus calls a child to Him, just as He had once called His disciples, one after another, thus reminding them that it is God who acts, God who calls, while we either respond in humility or turn away in pride.

Now what had that small child done to humble himself? Nothing that we know of. Jesus is not talking about actions here; rather he's describing an attitude of being. Unlike the disciples, the child is aware of and content with his lowliness. He is "poor in spirit" as in the first Beatitude [Mt 5:3].

We encounter perfect humility, this attitude of being, manifested by Our Blessed Mother when she proclaims,

"My sould magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior. For He has regarded the low estate of His handmaiden" [Lk 1:46-48].

Indeed, the entire Magnificat [Lk 1:46-55] is a hymn of personal humility in the presence of God's greatness – a good reason for its daily recitation in the Evening Prayer of the Church’s Liturgy of the Hours. Yes, lowliness, emptiness, hunger – these all allow God to raise up, to fill, to extend mercy, to make the last first, to place us at the center of His divine life.

Returning to Matthew’s Gospel, we hear Jesus declaring something truly remarkable about the child He has called to Himself. He reveals that these little ones have angels assigned to them by God Himself:

"See that you do not despise one of thesel little ones, for I say to you that their angels in heaven always look upon the face of my heavenly Father" [Mt 18:10].

We are struck by the wonder of it all: Angelic beings, those closest to God Himself, who stand in His presence, are those whom God has appointed to serve His little ones. His children – and these, brothers and sisters, include you and me. For as St. John reminds us

"See what love the Father has bestowed on us that we may be called the children of God" [1 Jn 3:1].

But to be a child of God is not to be childish. Not at all. No, God calls us to be child-like. To love Him as a child loves its parent, to trust in Him as a child trusts, to realize He wants only the good for us. In humility, then, the childlike experiences a radical freedom, seeing himself completely dependent on God.

That which is scorned on earth, the humility of the childlike, is raised up to the very highest level of being. We find a reference to guardian angels early in the Old Testament, when Jacob blesses Ephraim and Manasseh, the two sons of Joseph

"The angel who has delivered me from all harm, bless these boys that in them my name be recalled, and the names of my fathers, Abraham and Isaac, and they may become teeming multitudes upon the earth!" [Gn 48:16]

Do you see how greatly God esteems and honors the angel He has chosen to guard and lead you? Pray to your angel, asking that you remain always open to his guidance. Turn to him in prayer, plead for his protection and intercession, for this constant companion forever beholds the face of the Father. Can you imagine a better guardian and friend?

I think some people don’t realize how loving and kind their angels are, and how helpful they want to be. God didn’t assign them as guardians and tell them to do nothing. Our angels have been assigned to guard us from that which defies God’s will for us. Their guardianship, their protection, can be both spiritual and physical, and is much like a call from God Himself in that it seeks a response from us.

But angels do more than guard and guide us. They are also God’s messengers, revealing His Word to chosen men and women. We are perhaps most familiar with the archangel Gabriel, who foretold the birth of John the Baptist to his father Zechariah and later announced the Incarnation to the young Virgin Mary [Lk 1]. Similar events are described in the Old Testament. Perhaps my favorite is the angelic visitation to Manoah and his wife when the birth of Samson is foretold. Conversing with the angel, Manoah asks,

"What is your name, that we may honor you when your words come true?" The angel of the Lord asnwered him: "Why do you ask my name? It is wondrous" [Jgs 13:17-18].

In other words, even the true names of the angels are beyond human comprehension, beyond the limitations of human language. While many Christians give their guardians human names for the convenience of prayerful interaction, they should realize that God alone names each of these remarkable creatures. We will learn and come to appreciate these wondrous names when we join the angels in God’s presence.

Yes, the angels are carriers of love and messengers of God’s holy will. They protect us, lead us, guide us, and reveal God’s will for us. They encourage us to accept the gifts God offers us, and rejoice when we do

"In just the same way, I tell you, there will be rejoicing among the angels of God over one sinner who repents" [Lk 15:10].

Finally, a remarkable truth about our relationship with the angels. Tradition and Scripture hold that Lucifer led some of the angels to reject not just God’s creation of man but the revelation that God Himself would take on human nature. The angels, then, would adore the Son who, through the Incarnation, became one of these lowly creatures. This was too much for a proud creature like Lucifer who would not serve the Person of the Son in His human nature. The angelic choirs who chose God over pride accepted that Jesus Christ, the Son, is far greater than any angel:

"He took His seat at the right hand of the Majesty on high, as far superior to the angels as the name He has inherited is more excellent than theirs...Let all the angels of God worship Him [Heb 1:3,6].

This first chapter of the Letter to the Hebrews concludes with a verse that defines the human-angelic relationship

"Are they not all ministering spirits sent to serve, for the sake of those who are to inherit salvation?" [Heb 1:14].

What a revelation! The angels are called not only to serve God, but also to serve you and me, “those who are to inherit salvation.” This is another amazing result of the Incarnation. Because the Son becomes man, humanity is exalted, raised up, called to inherit salvation, and to be served by choirs of angels. It’s enough to make an angel laugh joyfully.

 

COVID-19 Bible Study Reflection #20: Evangelization

Today I intend to reflect briefly on "the spirituality of evangelization." Actually, I'm not exactly sure what that means, but it sounded good when it popped into my aging brain the other day...so we'll see how it goes.

We always ask for God’s presence – Father, Son and Holy Spirit – and we do so now, coming together in the certain hope God will inspire and guide us today. I'll begin with a prayer, one written by one of our 20th-century saints, Blessed Charles Foucauld. I'll talk about him in a moment, but first his prayer...

Abba, Father, I abandon myself into Your hands. Do with me what You will. Whatever You may do, I thank You. I am ready for all, I accept all.

Let only Your will be done in me and in all Your creatures. I wish no more than this, O Lord.

Into Your hands I commend my soul. I offer it to You with all the love of my heart.

For, I love you, Lord, and so need to give myself, to surrender myself into Your hands without reserve and with boundless confidence.

For You, Abba, are my Father. Amen.

Blessed Charles was a remarkable man. After a stint in the French Army, a dramatic conversion, and his ordination to the priesthood, he spent the remainder of his life as a Trappist monk in the Holy Land and finally as a hermit in the deserts of North Africa. It was there, on December 1, 1916, that he was martyred, killed by the Taureg people whom he loved. He was beatified by Pope Benedict XVI in 2005. To our knowledge Charles never converted a single person during his lifetime, but in his death, God brought into being several religious orders devoted to his spirituality.

As you can see by his prayer, it's a spirituality of abandonment, the sort of spirituality not practiced much in today's world. We’ll come back to this later. First, let’s talk about evangelization. (I realize I addressed abandonment in an earlier reflection – Reflection #6: Abandonment – but not in relation to evangelization.)

The Gospels offer us two parallel paths: Jesus’ redemptive journey to the Cross and His glorious Resurrection; and the disciples’ journey to...well, to true discipleship. The call they received was unambiguous. It was a call to evangelization. Matthew and Mark both end their gospel accounts with the Risen Jesus' appearance to the apostles immediately before his Ascension [Mt 28:16-20; Mk 16:14-18]. Jesus' last words to the Apostles – His Great Commission – are a call to witness to His saving death and glorious resurrection and to proclaim the good news of salvation to all the world. God's love and gift of salvation are not just for a select few, or for a single nation, but for everyone -- for all who accept the Good News.

Here we introduce our first truth on evangelization: We are all called to do God’s work to evangelize the world.

Evangelization is the work of God given to the entire Church, not just of the apostles and their successors. Jesus calls all believers to this saving work -- to be heralds of the good news and ambassadors for Jesus Christ, the Savior of the world. We have not been left alone in this task, for the risen Lord works in and through us by the power of his Holy Spirit. Where Jesus is, so too is the Spirit.

Evangelization, then, isn’t something we decide to do. Like all calls to ministry, the call to evangelize comes from God. We simply respond. Because it originates with God, it is God’s work, not ours, and all the glory must be His. How did the psalmist put it?

“Not to us, Lord, not to us, but to your name give glory because of your mercy and faithfulness” [Ps 115:1].

It’s not our good news, but the Good News of Jesus Christ, for the Gospel reveals the “mercy and faithfulness” of God. And it reveals the power of God, the power to forgive sins, to heal, to deliver from evil and oppression, and to restore life. As evangelists, as witnesses, you and I must believe in the power of the gospel. It always boils down to faith, doesn’t it?

Understanding this we are better able to define our spirituality of evangelization, which is really a spirituality of thankfulness. Our prayer becomes one of gratitude, thanking God for calling us to this ministry of salvation. And because all true ministry is God's work, by its very nature it is beyond our capabilities. We can't do it alone.

This leads us to our second truth: We need God's help to accomplish His work, His ministry of evangelization.

What have we discovered so far? As ministers we’re called to do God's work, not ours, and we can't do it alone. This is harder to accept than you might think. So often we get very possessive of “our ministry” in the Church, forgetting that, like everything else in our lives, it all belongs to God. Do you ever get that way? Do you ever find yourself grasping a ministry as if it’s some cherished possession, forgetting that it belongs to God not to you? As St. Paul reminds us, all comes from God:

"What have you that you did not receive? If then you received it, why do you boast as if it were not a gift?" [1 Cor 4;7]

God’s work must be done, but if we’re unresponsive or indifferent to God’s call, believe me, He will call someone else, and quite likely call them from their weakness. We are loved, brothers and sisters, but when it comes to God’s work in the world, we are not indispensable. It’s as if He’s reminding us, “You see. I found someone else. I found someone who didn’t resist my call, someone who’s willing to let me form them, to fill their emptiness with my love, someone with faith.”

...to fill their emptiness...There’s a wonderful Greek word, kenosis. We encounter it as a verb, ekenosen, in the midst of St. Paul’s beautiful hymn on the wonder of the Incarnation:

 “...he emptied himself, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men” [Phil 2:7].

In this emptying, Jesus Christ, the Son of God impoverished Himself by taking on our humanity. In the same way, as His disciples, we’re called to kenosis, to an emptying of self so that He may form us and fill us with His love.

You see, brothers and sisters, in His emptying Jesus takes all that is within Him and offers it to us. This is His gift to us. We need only accept it. But you and I cannot fully accept God’s love in our lives if our minds and hearts are filled with ourselves. We, too, must experience kenosis; we must first empty ourselves.

I abandon myself into Your hands. Do with me what You will.

Blessed Charles’ prayer of abandonment, this prayer of openness to God’s will – is this our prayer as evangelists? Or do we insist instead on telling God what He wants us to do.

And so we have our third truth: To accept fully God’s call to ministry, we must first empty ourselves of ourselves.

Kenosis, therefore, is fundamental to the work of evangelization and becomes an essential companion to God’s call. How does God call us, and speak to us? How can we hear His call? God speaks in silence, just as He did with Elijah on the mountainside [1 Kings 19:11-13]. There in the midst of all the noise and tumult and disruption of the world -- amidst wind, and quake, and fire -- God came to His prophet and spoke in a "still, small voice." God still speaks to us that way today. He comes to us in the silence.

Indeed, how blessed we are, for God has left us the gift of Himself in the Eucharist, the gift of His very Presence, so we can exclaim "Emmanuel" -- "God with us." The Eucharist means God in us, God with us, God increasingly giving himself to us.

We can escape all the noise and disruption of the world and kneel in His presence. In the silence of adoration, we can respond to God’s call as He waits for us in patient, expectant stillness. We too must be patient, waiting for God, just like the servant who waits patiently, watching for the signal from his master:

“Yes, like the eyes of servants on the hand of their masters, like the eyes of a maid on the hand of her mistress, so our eyes are on the Lord our God, till we are shown favor” [Ps 123:2].

We need, then, only respond in that silence, to that silence: 

"Behold, I come to do your will, O God" [Heb. 10:7].

And of one thing we can be certain: God's will for us always includes His will for others, His will for the others in our lives, especially for those least brothers and sisters of the Lord. Listen again to Blessed Charles. Toward the end of his life, speaking of Jesus’ description of the last judgment in Matthew 25, he wrote:

"I think there is no passage of the Gospel that has made a deeper impression on me or changed my life more than this one: 'Whatever you do to one of these little ones, you do to me.' Just think, these are the words of Uncreated Truth, words from the mouth that said, 'This is my body... this is my blood...' How forcefully we are impelled to seek Jesus and love him in the 'little ones'."

That’s right, brothers and sisters, it is these least ones we are called to evangelize, for together with them we are the Body of Christ. Who are these “little ones”? Why, they’re all around us. I know you pray for them because you sometimes tell me about them...

Lord, that widow down the street who is so lonely. Send someone to give her company and fellowship, someone who will take the time to visit her.

Dear Jesus, that troubled young boy, our dog groomer’s son. I know he has no father. Please ask someone to come into his life and help fill that need.

And, Lord, that neighbor who fell and can no longer do the little household jobs he loved to do...Find someone who can help him until he’s back on his feet again.

Oh, yes, and that young single mother who’s having such a hard time financially. Father, please provide for her need.

There are so many more opportunities that God places before us each and every day. I think you get my point. Will you visit the lonely neighbor, or spend some time with the boy who has no father figure in his life, or do an odd job or two for the neighbor who needs some help, or help the single mother financially?

For most of us evangelization is not preaching on the street corner. No, it’s more up-close and personal. It’s carrying the love of Jesus Christ to the individuals that God sends our way because of their need, their need for salvation. God will provide the opportunity to invite them to know Jesus Christ and His Church.

Indeed, that you recognize another’s need likely means you are the one God is asking to meet that need. God speaks to us through others in quiet, but insistent ways. He speaks and we respond in faith and thanksgiving: Father, let me always be thankful for everything and everybody you send into my life.

None of this is easy because God so often calls us from our weakness. Oh, yes, and true evangelization is rarely tax deductible. That’s because it’s always a spiritual challenge, one that calls us to give far more than we want to give in both time and effort and fortune.

This evangelization, this call to all disciples of Jesus Christ, is not voluntary. It’s a command, and to obey it leads to what can be a drastic change in your very way of life. With that in mind, I'll conclude by once again turning to the words of Blessed Charles:

"Our entire existence, our whole being must shout the Gospel from the rooftops. Our entire person must breathe Jesus, all our actions. Our whole life must cry out that we belong to Jesus, must reflect a Gospel way of living. Our whole being must be a living proclamation, a reflection of Jesus Christ."

We’ve just scratched the surface of the spirituality of evangelization, but I hope some little piece of this reflection might help you as you respond to God’s call.

Homily: Monday, 34th Week in Ordinary Time

Readings: Rv 14:1-3, 4b-5; Ps 24; Lk 21:1-4

A few days ago a parishioner asked why the Catholic Church doesn't demand tithing, as many other churches do. My response wasn't particularly satisfying, but at some point I decided to refer to today's Gospel passage from Luke and let Jesus answer for me.

Yes, Luke shares with us a seemingly trivial event that took place at the Temple in Jerusalem. It's just a brief passage, isn't it? Just four short verses. But is it really trivial, or is it something far greater, something that might well bear on our own salvation?

Jesus had just spoken to His disciples about the scribes and their false pride, how they abused their authority and took advantage of the poor, especially poor widows. Our Lord then turned their attention to one of the many receptacles located throughout the Temple grounds into which people placed their donations. He and the disciples watched as several wealthy Jews placed large donations into the receptacle. 

The disciples were likely impressed by the generosity of the wealthy, but not Jesus. No, He focused instead on the act of an impoverished widow who willingly gave all that she had, two small copper lepta, the least valuable of coins.

Unnoticed by others, she was nobody; and in the eyes of the world her gift of everything was seen as nothing. Everyone else was eying the wealthy, no doubt commenting on their large donations. But Jesus sees the true value of everything. He knows how little their gifts meant to them, gifts they could easily spare. 

To tithe, to give some set percentage of your surplus, really means little when you have so much. Compare this to the gift of the widow, a gift of everything, every cent she had. Indeed, her seemingly small gift, her sacrifice, was an emptying of more than a purse; it was the emptying of the self.

How about our giving? Do we give from our surplus or form our need? Is it a mere plea for recognition? Or perhaps it's a self-congratulatory pat on the back: "Boy, did I write a big check today." Yes, indeed, Jesus knows our motives. 

And we shouldn't focus only on our giving of money. Can we sacrifice our time, our effort, our talents, and instead of using them only for ourselves can we turn them over to God? Is our giving an emptying of self? 

True emptying is the kenosis of Jesus who poured out His lifeblood from the Cross for our salvation [Phil 27-8]. But true emptying is too often ignored by the world [Jn 1:10]. It's ignored because the world doesn't want to think about it. It doesn't want to hear Jesus' call to carry our cross, to give all for Him. 

But to give all, to live the Gospel without compromise, is to love God by doing the work of God, the work of holiness. Such work, never done for personal glory, usually goes unnoticed by all except God. The widow, you see, gave all and did so out of love. Despite her poverty she gave not just a little, but all; while the wealthy gave not just a lot, but nothing.

And as a faithful Jew, worshipping God at His Temple, she knew what the psalmist had promised, how the Almighty "is the father of orphans, and the judge of widows. God in His holy place" [Ps 67:6].

She was so very much like Our Blessed Mother who willingly gives everything for our God, and does so again and again, everything and all things, in the silence, in the anonymous silence of her hidden life.

Speaking of the widow, St. Augustine put it well: "She gave whatever she had, for she had God in her heart. But she had plenty, for she had God in her heart."

Yes, like Mary, she had God in her heart. Is God in your heart? Is He in mine? Do we let Him dwell there or just stop by on occasion?

Our Blessed Mother is the model of those whom Jesus praises, those "who do the will of my Father in heaven" [Mt 7:21]. We too are called to do the will of the Father so we can be Temples of the Lord, carrying Jesus Christ, carrying His presence to others.

How did St. Paul put it? "Do you not know that you are the Temple of God?" [1 Cor 3:16]

Today, through the Eucharist, you and I will also become God-bearers, Temples of the Living God. And so as we process together to receive Our Lord this morning let's all ask Mary to intercede for us, to pray that we may always do the will of the Father, to give all, and so become true Temples of the living God.

Reflection: Volunteer (Ministry) Appreciation Day

Yesterday our parish celebrated those parishioners who take part in the parish's many ministries. We invited them all to join us at Lake Yale, a large conference and retreat center run by the Southern Baptist Church. Lake Yale is a huge facility located on almost 300 lakefront acres.

More than 200 parishioners attended. We began the day in the auditorium with a welcoming talk by our pastor, Fr. Peter. After the introductions he went on to speak about Pope Francis and the role of the new evangelization at the parish level.

Afterwards we had some free time to wander about the lovely grounds and then enjoyed a hearty lunch in the center's cafeteria. After lunch we returned to the auditorium, where I exposed the Blessed Sacrament for an hour of adoration. During this hour I gave the following reflection on the spirituality of our parish ministries.

_____________________________

Today I intend to reflect briefly on "the spirituality of volunteerism." Actually, I'm not exactly sure what that means, but it seemed like a good subject when I had to tell Father Peter what I planned to talk about...so we'll see how it goes.

Fortunately we're in the presence of Our Lord Jesus Christ in the Blessed Sacrament, and where Jesus is, so too is the Holy Spirit. And so we turn to the Spirit in the certain hope He’ll inspire and guide all of us gathered here today.

I'd like to begin, then, with a prayer, one written by one of our 20th century saints, Blessed Charles de Foucauld. I'll talk about him in a moment, but first his prayer...

Abba, Father
I abandon myself into Your hands.
Do with me what You will.
Whatever You may do,
I thank You.
I am ready for all,
I accept all.
Let only Your will be done in me
and in all Your creatures.
I wish no more than this, O Lord.
Into Your hands
I commend my soul.
I offer it to You
with all the love of my heart.
For, I love you, Lord,
and so need to give myself,
to surrender myself into Your hands
without reserve
and with boundless confidence.
For You, Abba, are my Father. Amen.

Blessed Charles de Foucauld

Blessed Charles was a remarkable man. After a stint in the French Army, a dramatic conversion, and his ordination to the priesthood, he spent the remainder of his life as a Trappist monk in the Holy Land and finally as a hermit in the deserts of North Africa. It was there, on December 1, 1916, that he was martyred, killed by the Taureg people whom he loved. He was beatified by Pope Benedict XVI in 2005.

I once read that during his life Charles never converted a single person, but in his death God brought into being several religious orders devoted to the spirituality he championed. As you can see by his prayer, it's a spirituality of abandonment, the sort of spirituality not practiced much in today's world. We’ll come back to this later.

Now, as you all know, today is our parish's Volunteer Appreciation Day. And I'm going to begin by doing something that's not very nice. I’m going to attack and undermine the very word itself, the word "volunteer" that is.

"Volunteer" is a very active word. It's one of those nouns that describes someone who acts, one of those words ending in "er", like leader, or teacher, or lawyer, or minister, or doctor...OK, doctor ends in "or", but you know what I mean. Volunteer is a word that emphasizes the person it describes. A volunteer is someone who takes the initiative and does something.

And I suppose that's fine if we're talking about a volunteer in a second grade classroom or someone who helps direct golf carts at a Villages polo match. Volunteering to do these things, and other similar work, is by no means a bad thing, but it all relates to man's work, the work of the world.

The work of the world isn't what we're celebrating here today. We're not celebrating volunteer work; we're celebrating ministry. Believe me, to be a volunteer is not the same as being a minister. And the difference is not trivial. A volunteer decides to do something, which places the credit almost wholly on the volunteer. But a minister responds to a call, a call that originates with God, and so the credit, all the glory, must go to God.

In ministry it is God who takes the initiative. Understanding this leads us to the first truth we must accept as we reflect on our calling within this parish community. Quite simply, you and I are not simply volunteers doing man's work in the world.

Here’s our first truth: We are ministers called to do God's work to change the world. And it's this truth that must define our spirituality.

Yes, it's good for the parish to show its appreciation, for without its ministers, without all of you who have responded to God's call, our parish would be an empty vessel. But it's even more important that you and I thank God for calling us to our ministries. And because ministry is God's work, by its very nature it is work beyond our capabilities. We can't do it alone.

This leads us to our second truth: We need God's help to accomplish His work, His ministry.

What have we discovered so far? As ministers we’re called to do God's work, not ours, and we can't do it alone.

This is harder to accept than you might think. We tend to think of ministry as “our ministry” rather than God’s. We get very possessive about it all, forgetting that it’s not us but God’s work that’s important.

Do you ever get that way? Do you ever find yourself grasping a ministry as if it’s some cherished possession, forgetting that it belongs to God not to you? God’s work must be done, but who does it really doesn’t matter.

Indeed, if we’re unresponsive or indifferent to God’s call, He’ll just call someone else, and quite likely call them from their weakness. It’s as if He’s reminding us, “You see. I found someone else. I found someone who didn’t resist my call, someone who’s willing to let me form them, to fill their emptiness with my love, someone with faith.”

“…to fill their emptiness…”

There’s a wonderful Greek word, kenosis. We encounter it as a verb, ekenosen, in Philippians 2:7 in the midst of St. Paul’s beautiful hymn on the wonder of the Incarnation: “…he emptied himself, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men.”

In this emptying, Jesus Christ, the Son of God impoverished Himself by taking on our humanity. In the same way, as His disciples, we’re called to kenosis, to an emptying of self so that He may form us and fill us with His love. You see, brothers and sisters, in His emptying Jesus takes all that is within Him and offers it to us. This is His gift to us. We need only accept it.

But you and I cannot fully accept God’s love in our lives if our minds and hearts are filled with ourselves.  For we, too, must experience kenosis; we must first empty ourselves. How did Blessed Charles put it in his prayer of abandonment?

I abandon myself into Your hands.
Do with me what You will.
Whatever You may do,
I thank You.
I am ready for all,
I accept all.

This prayer of abandonment, this prayer of openness to God’s will – is this our prayer as ministers? Or do we insist instead on telling God what He wants us to do.

This helps us define our third truth: To accept fully God’s call to ministry, we must first empty ourselves of ourselves. Kenosis, therefore, is fundamental to ministry, an essential companion to God’s call.

How does God call us? How does He speak to us? And how can we hear His call?

First if all, God speaks in silence, just as He did with Elijah on the mountainside [1 Kings 19:11-13]. There in the midst of all the noise and tumult and disruptions of the world -- amidst wind, and quake, and fire -- God came to His prophet and spoke in a "still, small voice."  And God still speaks to us that way today. He comes to us in the silence.

Indeed, how blessed we are, for God has left us the gift of Himself in the Eucharist, the gift of His very Presence, so we can exclaim "Emmanuel" -- "God with us." The Eucharist means God in us, God with us, God increasingly giving himself to us. We can escape all the noise and disruption of the world and kneel in His presence. We can answer in the silence of adoration which waits in patient, expectant stillness. We can wait for God, just like the servant in Psalm 123 who waits patiently, watching for the signal from master or mistress [Ps. 123:2].  We need, then, only respond in that silence, to that silence: "Here I am, Lord, I come to do your will" [Heb. 10:7].

And of one thing we can be certain: God's will for us always includes His will for others, His will for the others in our lives, especially for those least brothers and sisters of the Lord. Listen again to Blessed Charles. Toward the end of his life, speaking of Jesus’ description of the last judgment in Matthew 25, he wrote:

"I think there is no passage of the Gospel that has made a deeper impression on me or changed my life more than this one: 'Whatever you do to one of these little ones, you do to me.' Just think, these are the words of Uncreated Truth, words from the mouth that said, 'This is my body... this is my blood...' How forcefully we are impelled to seek Jesus and love him in the 'little ones'."

That’s right, brothers and sisters, it is to these least ones we are called to minister, for together with them we are the Body of Christ. And so we carry them all with us today in this celebration of our ministry. We carry them into God's presence here.

Are you connected to those with whom You share a little piece of this world? Do you carry them with you today? Have you carried the hungry the Jesus? The sick, the dying, the addicted, the angry, the hurt, the lonely? Have you brought them here with you, spiritually, so you can offer them to Our Lord, here in His presence? God wants to hear your prayer for them.

But God will not be limited. He won’t be constrained. And so He speaks to us beyond the silence. He speaks to us in and through the words of others. He might speak through the writings of a saint, or the letter of a bishop, or even the words of a homily, or the chance remark of a friend, or the comment of someone who’s not at all friendly.  And, of course, He speaks to us especially through the Word of His Revelation, through Holy Scripture. Yes, God will not be constrained.

But do you and I listen? Do we recognize God’s Word when it comes to us? It’s all the doing of the Holy Spirit who accomplishes God’s work in the world, His work within us. Listen to Him! And through the Holy Spirit your Father, or Jesus, your brother, will speak directly to you!

And when we hear God’s Word, nothing is more natural than to answer. You need not answer immediately, for it’s good to take some time to reflect on what God is asking of you. Like our Blessed Mother, you might need time to treasure these things and ponder them in your heart [Lk. 2:19].

And when you answer, keep it short. God really doesn’t need our prayer to be cluttered with words; but you and I need the discipline of a specific answer so we can’t hide from it later.

I even suggest that you write it down. For example, my own journal entry for yesterday included only this verse from First Corinthians:

"What have you that you did not receive? If then you received it, why do you boast as if it were not a gift?" [1 Cor 4;7]

…and a brief reflective comment:

Father, let me always be thankful for everything and everybody you send into my life.

God speaks and we respond.

I’ve only scratched the surface of our spirituality as God’s ministers, but I hope you might find some little piece of it to be helpful as you respond to God’s call to ministry.

And we should never forget that Jesus began His ministry with the words: “Repent and believe in the Gospel” [Mk 1:14]. With that in mind, I'll finish by once again turning to the words of Blessed Charles:

"Our entire existence, our whole being must shout the Gospel from the rooftops. Our entire person must breathe Jesus, all our actions. Our whole life must cry out that we belong to Jesus, must reflect a Gospel way of living. Our whole being must be a living proclamation, a reflection of Jesus Christ."

God love you, and thank you for your ministry.

Homily: 26th Sunday in Ordinary Time (Year A)

Readings: Ez 18:25-28: 7; Ps 103; Phil 2:1-11; Mt 21: 28-32
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Some years ago, a friend, a retired a State Trooper, told me of the time he pulled over a well-known politician for speeding and reckless driving. As he was handed the citation, the politician looked at the trooper incredulously and asked, "Don't you realize who I am?"

"Yes, sir," my friend responded, "and that's why you you're not getting a warning. Someone in your position should have more respect for the law than you demonstrated today."

Not a career-enhancing move on the part of the trooper, but a satisfying story for the rest of us.

"Don't you realize who I am?"

Perhaps one day historians will look back on our era and label it, "The Age of Self-esteem". Obsessed with feeling good about ourselves regardless of our behavior, we’re unwilling as a society to accept responsibility for the ills that plague us.

Our children kill each other, so we look for solutions in legislatures and courts, never dreaming that the cause lies much closer to home. But to question our own values and those we instill in our children might damage the self-esteem of both parent and child. And so we slide down the cultural slope ignoring the impact of abortion and euthanasia and capital punishment on the value we place on human life. Protect us from the unwanted, the expendable!

Addictions -- drugs, alcohol, gambling, pornography -- devour the lives of millions and devastate families. So what do we do? Governments go into the gambling business. TV networks air shows glamorizing drug dealers. Government agencies fund the pornographic and sacrilegious because the grant request self-servingly labeled it "Art". But perhaps our most insidious cultural attitude is the idea that a person’s value is best measured by wealth and position – which just leads to another addiction.

A few years ago, I had a conversation with a man who was demonstrably proud that he and his wife, both business professionals, earned nearly a half-million a year. Their children? Well, they were being raised by schools, day-care centers, au pairs, and baby-sitters.

“To succeed today you have to work hard,” he explained. “That means long hours. But we grab all the quality-time we can, and try hard to pass our values on to our children." Lucky kids.

He also mentioned that he and his wife were planning a two-week vacation to the islands…without the children. "Parents need an occasional break from the pressures of family life," he said. I couldn't help but think, "What family life?"

Ezekiel in Exile

How we rationalize to avoid responsibility for our actions and to please ourselves.

Of course this is nothing new. Indeed, in today's first reading the prophet, Ezekiel, reprimands the Jewish people who were then held captive in Babylon. They actually blamed God for their problems, believing He had punished them unfairly for the sins of their ancestors. But Ezekiel tells the exiles, "No!" It’s not God who’s unfair, but you who are sinful. You alone are responsible for your sinfulness, and this will keep you from salvation.

He goes on to explain that they have a choice: they are either for or against God. There’s no avoiding it, no comfortable middle ground, no room for compromise, no acceptable rationalizations to preserve their self-esteem. Ezekiel, the prophet of personal responsibility, leads God's people -- and leads us if we’ll listen -- along the only path to salvation.

We hear a similar message in today’s brief Gospel parable of the two sons [Mt 21:28-32]. One son, when asked by his father to do some work, willfully refuses, but later he thinks better of it and does what was asked of him. The other son at first says "Yes" to his father's request, but ultimately does nothing.

Jesus told this story in the temple in Jerusalem, speaking to the elders and chief priests, men who were overly fond of the power and esteem and wealth that came with their positions. Aware of their self-righteousness and hypocrisy, Jesus wants them to take personal responsibility for their behavior. He contrasts them with those they considered the greatest of sinners: tax collectors and prostitutes.

The people's dislike of tax collectors didn't stem from cultural hostility to the idea of taxation. No, the Jews disliked tax collectors because they viewed them as pawns of the Romans, an occupying power, and because many were corrupt, becoming rich from bribes and over-taxation. Matthew, this Gospel’s author, was himself a tax collector when he responded to the Lord's call. Jesus’ association with Matthew and public sinners brought only scorn from the self-righteous elders.

This leads Jesus to compare his audience to the parable’s second son, the outwardly pious son, who says all the correct things, but then goes on to lead a life of self-serving disobedience. And the tax collectors and prostitutes? Like the first son, they repented of their disobedience, accepted God's loving forgiveness, and went on to devote their lives to doing His will. Jesus makes it clear which of the two will be welcome in God's Kingdom.

And so we are left with one word ringing in our 21st Century ears, a word that clashes mightily with our modern sense of who we are: Obedience.

How can I possibly think well of myself if I’m constantly forced to do the will of another? Think of the effect on my self-esteem. Am I not a free person? Do I not have the right to do as I wish…at least within the boundaries of the reigning political correctness? "Don't you realize who I am?"

As usual, St. Paul supplies the answer. Yes, we have the freedom to choose; and with freedom comes personal responsibility for the results of our decisions.

In our second reading Paul instructs the Christians of Philippi to "humbly regard others as more important than yourselves, each looking out not for his own interests, but also for those of others" [Phil 2:3-4]. Yes, Paul stands our modern mantra on its head by asking: "Don't you realize who they are?"

Then, in one of the most beautiful passages in the New Testament [Phil 2:6-11], he holds up Jesus as the example of freely chosen obedience to God's Will. It's a hymn that reflects both the divinity and the self-effacement of Jesus, Jesus who is God in His very essence: unchangeably, inalienably.

The key is what is called Jesus' kenosis (a Greek word meaning emptiness). It’s the act of Jesus emptying Himself, pouring Himself out until there’s nothing left. He didn't shed His divinity, but rather He shed the privileged status of His divine glory. He didn’t come to exalt Himself by shouting "Don't you realize who I am?" No, He humbled Himself. And for what? For the love and the salvation of the world. Instead, He asks us, “Don’t you realize how much I love you?”

It was all a freely chosen act of obedience to the Will of the Father, a heroic obedience that accepted even the degradation of death on a cross! From that lowest point, the Father exalted Him, and in Paul's words, "bestowed on Him the name above every other name" [Phil 2:9]. For Jesus is the master of all life, brothers and sisters, the master of all creation. We can give Him nothing but the obedience, love and loyalty that no one else can possibly deserve -- not in slavish, broken submission to power and might, but out of recognition of what He did for us. But out of love for Him.

"Don't you realize who He is?"

Jesus Christ is Lord! [Phil 2:11]