Homily: Tuesday, 2nd Week in Ordinary Time - Year 2

Readings: 1 Sam 16:1-13 • Psalm 89 • : Mk 2:23-28

What a wonderful Gospel passage, where Mark clearly shows the New Testament fulfilling the Old. 

Mark tells us that Jesus and the disciples were walking through a wheat field on the Sabbath; and as they walked the disciples picked the heads of grain and ate them.

Several places in Exodus, Leviticus, and Deuteronomy apply here. In fact, the Law allows the gleaning, or picking grain from another’s field [Dt 23:25], but only with your hand. Pick just enough to satisfy your hunger. You can’t roll through someone else’s field with a combine. Then there are the Ten Commandments, requiring the observation of the Sabbath day by doing no work [Ex 20:10; Dt 5:12-15].

The Pharisees, of course, were shadowing Jesus, intent on finding fault, so they challenged Him, asking why His disciples were violating the Law. As usual, they interpreted the Law narrowly, but Jesus, as usual, turned the tables on them.

Jesus began by criticizing their ignorance of Scripture: “Have you not read what David did…?” Here He referred to the 1^st Book of Samuel. David and his companions were fleeing King Saul. Hungry, David approached the priests of the sanctuary at Nob and requested bread. But the only bread available was the Bread of the Presence, which, by Law, was reserved for priests alone [Lev 24:9]. But Abiathar, the high priest, gave the bread to David. In his anger, Saul later slaughtered the priests at Nob, not because he thought they had violated the Law, but because they had helped David.

Jesus uses this event to explain the true meaning of the Sabbath, that the letter of the Law is not more important than helping those in real need. The letter of the Law might be violated, but not the good the Law intends. Jesus summed it up:

“The Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath” [Mk 2:27].

God instituted the Sabbath, Jesus reminded the Pharisees, not for its own sake, but for our benefit. For Jesus the deepest intention of the Law is not to bind us but to set us free. How did He put it? The truth will set you free. When you think about it, this isn’t surprising. Surely God wants to set you and me free: our freedom is God's gift. Did not Jesus come “to set captives free” (Lk 4:18)?

And then Our Lord said something remarkable:

“The Son of Man is Lord of the Sabbath” [Lk 6:5].

Mark doesn’t reveal the Pharisees’ reaction to these words, but they must have been horrified. For them this was blasphemy. Using the Messianic title “Son of Man” was bad enough, but He also claimed the divine title, “Lord of the Sabbath.” Yes, Jesus in effect proclaimed His divinity, as He who gave the Law to Israel, the Lord of the Sabbath, with authority over the Law, over creation.

In our first reading from 1 Samuel, we encounter the young David, a shepherd, the seventh and least likely of Jesse’s sons. And yet, he is God’s choice. He will become the greatest of the kings of God’s People, and a type of Jesus Himself.

This is the David Jesus praises to the Pharisees who have conveniently forgotten the true meaning of God’s Law, the David who act points a thousand years ahead to the Lord of the Sabbath.

Perhaps, you and I should consider how we celebrate the Sabbath, the day on which we proclaim Jesus’ glorious Resurrection. Other than taking part in a vigil or Sunday Mass, what do we do to keep the day holy? Is it just another day to spend on the golf course, or in front of the TV?

Or do we take time to help those who are far from free, perhaps the lonely, the homebound neighbor with no family and few friends, someone who yearns for a visit and for words of kindness.

And like the disciples, do we also take some time to walk with Jesus, to talk with Jesus, to pray with Jesus on the day He has declared holy?

  

Homily: 6th day within the Octave of the Nativity (December 30)

Readings: 1 Jn 2:3-11; Ps 96; Lk 2:22-35

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Christmas, of course, reminds us that Jesus chose to enter into the world just as helpless as you and I once were. He didn’t place Himself above us. He entered directly into the human story, sharing our humanity, our flesh and blood, and our physical mortality. Although a divine person, He accepted everything that came with His humanity, all the messiness, all the ordinariness, all its limitations. It was by accepting these limitations that He could “advance in wisdom and age and favor before God and man.” [Lk 1:52]

In today’s Gospel passage Luke reminds us of both the humanity and divinity of our Lord.

According to Jewish law, a firstborn son belonged to God. And so, 40 days after his birth, parents would present their son in the Temple, in effect, buying him back with a sacrifice of turtledoves or pigeons. On that day, the new mother would also be ritually purified. Indeed, the feast was originally known as the feast of the Purification of the Blessed Virgin.

Here we see the Holy Family, a Jewish family, living under God’s Law, doing as the Law prescribed. You see, Jesus’ mission is rooted in God’s revelation, expressed in the Law and the Prophets. It’s there, in the Old Testament, that God’s plan of salvation is first revealed; a plan fulfilled and brought to completion by the Incarnation.

As Mary and Joseph enter the Temple to fulfil the law, they’re greeted by two people, Simeon and Anna, who amaze them with what they reveal. Like many of us here today, these two were very senior citizens. Yesterday, we heard what Simeon had to say, but in today’s passage Luke turns to Anna, whom he calls a prophetess, one who speaks for God.

At 84 Anna had lived in the Temple since becoming a widow at a young age. And so, for decades she “worshipped day and night with fasting and prayer.” [Lk 2:37]. She is, in fact, the patron saint of widows.

Like Simeon, Anna is filled with the Holy Spirit, and coming forward she gives thanks to God for the child, Jesus. Luke goes on to tell us she “spoke about the child to all who were awaiting the redemption of Jerusalem.” [Lk 2:38].

We see the birth of Christ revealed by very different kinds of witnesses, each in a different way: the shepherds, led by an angel; the Magi, guided by a star; and Elizabeth, Simeon, Anna inspired by the Holy Spirit. God chooses whomever He wishes to do great things; for the Spirit, though them, reveals Jesus Christ to the world.

The Spirit works in us as well, providing opportunities to take God’s love to others, an evangelization that begins right in our own families where holiness is first nurtured. In the midst of the chaos and messiness in our families there are glimpses of God’s presence, moments of grace when God reaches deep into the clutter of our lives and hands us a present we never expected.

When my mother died, our elder daughter, 6-years-old at the time, told Diane, “Don’t cry, Mommy. Grandma is with Jesus now, happy in heaven.” 

In moments like this God ignores the barriers and debris we place between ourselves and our redemption, reminding us we are called to holiness. In those moments, sticky hands are transformed into instruments of grace. Stories of the playground and classroom, or the words of a child to her mother become words of wisdom. In those moments, ordinary events take on new meaning and the dinner table becomes an altar.

These elusive, often sudden, and unexpected, moments are rarely captured on film or video. Sometimes, as with Mary and Joseph, they came in the form of words that amaze. Yes, Mary knew her Son was special. What had the angel revealed to her?

“He will be great and will be called Son of the Most High…the child to be born will be called holy, the Son of God.” [Lk 1:32,35]

But to hear this and more in the Temple from Simeon and Anna…this too was something Mary would long ponder and cherish. Here we encounter an event that strikes a chord in all new parents who wonder and worry about the future of their child.

A story for every mother who looked into the face of her newborn, the face of innocence, and prayed that God would help her raise that child to holiness.

A story to remind us that as parents, along with the joys, we will experience disappointment, sorrow, sometimes great tragedy…but in the midst of it all we encounter Emmanuel, God with us.

Jesus, Mary and Joseph – pray for us.

Homily: Day 5 - Octave of Christmas

Readings: 1 Jn 2:3-11; Ps 96; Lk 2:22-35

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When describing the divine and human natures of Jesus, the Fathers of the Second Vatican Council wrote:

"He worked with human hands, He thought with a human mind, acted by human will, and loved with a human heart. Born of the Virgin Mary, He has truly been made one of us, like us in all things except sin...[and His human will] does not resist or oppose but rather submits to His divine and almighty will" [Gaudium et spes, 22].

Christmas, of course, reminds us of Jesus' humanity, that He chose to enter into the world just as helpless as you and I once were. He didn’t place Himself above us. He entered directly into the human story, sharing our humanity, our flesh and blood, our physical mortality. Although a divine person, He accepted everything that came with His humanity, all the messiness, all the ordinariness, all its limitations. It was by accepting these limitations that He could “advance in wisdom and age and favor before God and man” [Lk 2:52].

Today’s passage from Luke is offered to remind us of both the humanity and divinity of our Lord.

According to Jewish law, a firstborn son belonged to God. Forty days after his birth, the parents would present their son in the Temple, in effect, buying him back with a sacrifice of turtledoves or pigeons. On that day, the new mother would also be ritually purified. Indeed, the feast of the Presentation was originally known as the feast of the Purification of the Blessed Virgin. Here we see the Holy Family, a Jewish family, living under God’s Law, doing as the Law prescribed.

Jesus’ mission, then, is rooted in God’s revelation, expressed in the Law and the Prophets. It’s there, in the Old Testament, that God’s plan of salvation is first revealed; a plan fulfilled and brought to completion by the Incarnation.

 

As Mary and Joseph entered the Temple to fulfill the law, they were greeted by old Simeon who, filled with the Holy Spirit, welcomed Jesus and revealed Him as the redemption of the entire world:

“…my eyes have seen your salvation, which you prepared in the presence of all peoples, a light for revelation to the Gentiles, and glory for your people Israel” [Lk 2:30-32].

He then gave Mary a taste of the sorrows she would experience, for a sword would pierce her heart, a sword forged by our sinfulness.

The birth of Christ, then, is revealed by three kinds of witnesses each in a different way: the shepherds, led by an angel; the Magi, guided by a star; and Elizabeth, Simeon, Anna, all inspired by the Holy Spirit.

God chooses whomever He wishes to do great things, and guided by the Holy Spirit they will reveal Jesus Christ to the world. The Spirit works, providing opportunities to take God’s love to others, an evangelization that begins right in our own families where holiness is first nurtured. In the midst of the chaos in our families there are glimpses of God’s presence, moments of grace when God reaches deep into the clutter of our lives and hands us a present we never expected.

When my mother died, over 40 years ago, our elder daughter, 6-years-old at the time, told Diane, “Don’t cry, Mommy. Grandma is with Jesus now, happy in heaven.”

In moments like this God ignores the barriers and debris we place between ourselves and our redemption, reminding us we are called to holiness.

In those moments, sticky hands are transformed into instruments of grace. Stories of the playground and classroom, or the words of a child to her mother, become words of wisdom.

In those moments, ordinary events take on new meaning and the dinner table becomes like an altar.

These elusive, often sudden, and unexpected moments are rarely captured on film or video. Sometimes, as with Mary and Joseph, they came in the form of words that amaze. Yes, Mary knew her Son was special. What had the angel revealed to her?

"He will be great and will be called Son of the Most High...the child to be born will be called holy, the Son of God." [Lk 1:32,35]

But to hear this and more in the Temple from Simeon…this too was something Mary would long ponder and cherish.

This visit to the Temple strikes a chord in all new parents who wonder and worry about the future of their child. It’s a story for every mother who has looked into the face of her newborn, the face of innocence, and prayed that God would help her raise that child to holiness. It's a story to remind us that as parents we will experience disappointment, sorrow, sometimes great tragedy…but in the midst of it all we encounter Emmanuel, God with us.

It reminds us of the depth of God’s love, of His arms open wide with forgiveness and mercy – a reminder that God calls us into families, not just to protect us physically, but to nurture us in faith, to prepare us for a journey that leads only to Him.

Jesus, Mary and Joseph – pray for us.

Homily: Saturday, 22nd Week in Ordinary Time

I have embedded a video of my homily for Saturday of the 22nd week of Ordinary Time. The full text of the homily follows.

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Readings: Col 1:21-23 • Psalm 54 • Luke 6:1-5
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What a wonderful Gospel passage, a beautiful example of the continuity between Old and New Testaments, where the New fulfills the Old. 

Luke tells us that Jesus and the disciples were walking through a wheat field on the Sabbath; and as they walked the disciples picked the heads of grain and ate them.

Unlawful on the Sabbath?

There are actually several places in Exodus, Leviticus, and Deuteronomy that apply here. In fact the Law allows gleaning, or picking grain from another's field [Dt 23:25], but only with your hand. In other words, pick just enough to satisfy your hunger. You can't roll through someone else's field with a combine. And then there are the Ten Commandments, requiring the observation of the Sabbath day by doing no work [Ex 20:10; Dt 5:12-15].

The Pharisees, of course, were shadowing Jesus, intent on finding fault. And so they challenged Him, asking why His disciples were violating the Law. As usual, they interpreted the Law narrowly, but Jesus, as always, turned the tables on them. He began by criticizing their ignorance of Scripture:

"Have you not read what David did...?" [Lk 6:3]

Here He referred to an event described in the 1st Book of Samuel. David and his companions were fleeing from King Saul. Hungry, David approached the priests of the sanctuary at Nob and requested bread. But the only bread available was the Bread of the Presence, which, by Law, was reserved for priests alone [Lev 24:9]. But Ahimelech, the high priest, gave the bread to David. Later, in his anger, Saul killed all the priests at Nob, not because he thought they had violated the Law, but because they had helped David.

Bread of the Presence

Jesus uses this event to explain the true meaning of the Sabbath, that the letter of the Law is not more important than helping those in real need. The letter of the Law might be violated, but not the good the Law intends. In Mark's Gospel Jesus adds the words:

"The Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath" [Mk 2:27].

God instituted the Sabbath, Jesus reminds the Pharisees, not for its own sake, but for our benefit. And then He said something remarkable:

"The Son of Man is Lord of the Sabbath" [Lk 6:5].

Luke doesn't reveal the Pharisees' reaction to these words, but they must have been horrified. For them this was blasphemy. Using the Messianic title "Son of Man" was bad enough, but He also claimed the divine title, "Lord of the Sabbath."

Here Jesus proclaimed His divinity. It is He who gave the Law to Israel, and the Lord of the Sabbath has authority over the Law.

It's interesting that the Church, in today's Gospel proclamation or Alleluia verse, includes words Jesus spoke to His disciples at the Last Supper:

"I am the way and the truth and the life; no one comes to the Father except through me" [Jn 14:6].

These words, too, also proclaim Jesus' divinity and in a very real sense expand on what He said to the Pharisees.

The Way, the Truth, the Life...It's all encompassing, isn't it? It's a perfect description of His complete fulfillment of the Covenants with Israel, the Good News wrapped up in three one-syllable words.

What is the way? It's nothing other than our Christian faith and the struggle to put that faith into practice by loving God and our neighbor. In our weakness we can't do it alone, and so we follow Jesus on His journey, which becomes our journey through life's struggles, knowing He walks with us.

The truth? Why, it's the Good News - the Good News of Jesus Christ, the Good News of God's mercy and forgiveness, the Good News of Salvation!  It's the truth of Jesus' promise, borne out and proven by His resurrection.

And the life? The life is eternal life, the fruit of Jesus' promise. It's the understanding that we're here for a purpose: to do God's will so that we may spend an eternal life of happiness with Him. It's the knowledge that salvation is a gift, that we can't earn it simply by following the Law.

As St. Paul reminds us in today's first reading, we too hope to stand before God "holy, pure and blameless."

Perhaps, we should begin by considering how we celebrate the Sabbath, the day on which we proclaim Jesus' glorious Resurrection.

Other than attending a vigil or Sunday Mass, what do we do to keep the day holy?

Is it just another day to spend on the golf course, or in front of the TV?

Or do we, like the disciples, take some time to walk with Jesus on the day He has declared holy?

Homily: 15 Sunday in Ordinary Time - July 14, 2019

Readings: Dt 30:10-14; Ps 69; Col 1:15-20; Lk 10:25-37

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Don't you just love Moses? In effect he told the Israelites: OK, folks, God's Law is really pretty simple...And you don't have to look for it, because it's already in your hearts.

And that Law, in all its simplicity, is clearly spelled out in today's Gospel passage from Luke: You must love God with everything you have...and love your neighbor as yourself. 

But how many of us do that?  How many of us instead use our minds, hearts, souls and strength to love the perishable things of the world? How many of us seem even to love ourselves more than we love God? And our neighbors? I suppose we tolerate most of them, but do we really love them? 

Consider all the thoughts that cross our minds in the course of a single day. How many are of God and how many are of the things of the world? Yes, indeed, loving God is hard when the world tries to extinguish the light of God's truth. There's a lot of darkness out there, brothers and sisters.

As Pope St. John Paul II often reminded us, the world's darkness is nothing other than a culture of death, one that surrounds us with its evils of war, terrorism, abortion, hatred, infanticide, euthanasia, and so much more. But God is the God of life, who calls us to love Him and each other, even in the midst of all this hatred.

"I came so that they might have life and have it more abundantly" [Jn 10:10].

Indeed, how can we love God, while accepting these evils? How can we love our neighbor, but turn our backs on those in need?  Do we even understand whom we're called to love? Like the scribe in today's Gospel, will we too be surprised by the Lord's answer when we ask Him: "And who is my neighbor?" [Lk 10:29]

Well, he's not just the guy next door, the one who joins you for golf on Tuesday, or just the woman who plays Mahjong with you on Thursday...you know, all those folks we like, the ones who are amazingly just like us. 

No, Jesus gets a little radical as He redefines neighbor. 

\Our neighbor, He tells us, is the stranger, the one we've been taught to distrust. The one who's not at all like you and me. He's also the public sinner, the 20-year-old addict, the pusher, scared to death as he awaits trial in the county jail in Bushnell. She's the down and out, the homeless single mom with three kids, wondering how she'll keep her family together, where the next meal will come from. 

That's right, Jesus tells us, our neighbor includes all those wounded by life. And then Jesus challenges us: Stop what you're doing and care for my people.

To the priest and the Levite in the parable, God's house was the Temple in Jerusalem. But Jesus teaches his disciples that God dwells in the ditch alongside the road, that they can see His face in the faces of the beaten, the downtrodden, the oppressed, and, yes, in the faces of sinners.

About 45 years ago, out in Monterey, California, I was one of our parish's youth ministers. At one weekly meeting, while discussing the Good Samaritan, I asked the kids to tell the rest of us who in the parable they most closely identified with - the priest, the Levite, or the Samaritan. 

I got the expected answers until this one young man said, "I can't identify with any of those guys. I'm more like the guy who got beat up. And no Samaritan has ever come along to help me."

It was a remarkable moment in the life of that small group of teens. At first everyone laughed, but then, as we talked about it, their opinions began to change. It gradually dawned on them that no one is immune from life's problems and difficulties, that sometimes every single one of us needs help, needs God's healing touch.

Years later when we were living in Massachusetts, our eldest daughter, Erin, chose to attend a college in California. So Diane and I decided to load up the old station wagon (and, believe me, it was old) and drive her there ourselves. 

Somewhere in Arizona, along an empty stretch of Interstate in the middle of the desert, the car's engine simply stopped and refused to start. I immediately did what every red-blooded American male does in such a situation. I opened the hood, stared blankly at the engine, and swore at it. My wife and daughter just prayed. 

Within minutes, though, three teenage Navajos in an old pickup stopped on the dirt service road that paralleled the highway and volunteered to drive to a service station a few miles down the road to get some help. But before they could leave, another car pulled over in front of us. The driver, also a Native American, but from Oklahoma, took one look under the hood and had the car running again in about three minutes. In a hurry, he just drove off before I even had a chance to thank him. And then, no longer needed, the three young Navajos gave us a smile and a wave and sped off down the dirt road trailing a cloud of dust.

Since that day I've often thought of those good Samaritans and how they took the time to stop and help this obviously befuddled white guy from Massachusetts.

If our roles had been reversed, would I have stopped for them? As much as I hate to admit it, probably not. How easy it would have been to rationalize a decision to pass them by. After all, we were in a hurry, anxious to get to our hotel before nightfall. Anyway, a state trooper would probably be along soon. And you can't be too careful, can you? You never know the kind of people you'll run into.

How easy it is to magnify our own needs to ensure they outweigh the more obvious needs of others. And by doing so we ignore the command of Jesus and His Church, the command to act always with justice and charity, to act as the Samaritan acted.

The Samaritan wasn't at all responsible for the victim's plight, but in justice he knew he still had to respond to the man's basic human needs.  Yet he didn't stop there, did he? No, he went on to tell the innkeeper that he would pay for all the man's expenses, something that in charity goes beyond anything human justice might require. 

You see, Jesus is telling us that because we are baptized into the Kingship of Christ, we each must reflect the justice of the Kingdom. We're called to go beyond, to give our lives for others, to give them in love without measure. We can do this only do through the grace of Jesus Christ, who makes us part of His Body, the Church, and lifts us up to heights far beyond our own capabilities  What did St Paul say in today's second reading?

'God wanted all things to be reconciled through Him and for Him, everything in heaven and on earth, when he made peace by his death on the Cross.' 

Brothers and sisters, the love of Jesus Christ, the love of His Cross, carries us beyond man's justice, bringing peace and healing where hope has been lost, and lifting us to the joys of God's Kingdom.

He calls each of us to continue His work, to be Good Samaritans to all God's people, and He's given us a roadmap with the path clearly marked. We're asked to obey His commandments and to love -- to love Him with all our being and to love each other. If we do this, He takes care of the rest.

Allow Jesus to make His home within you. This will happen today through the Eucharist, when we are called to Communion with God Himself. God doesn't force Himself on us, but if you allow Him, He will give you the strength you need to cope with any and all of life's challenges.  He will give you the courage you need to accept your calling. He wants us to do His work in the lives of those we touch, even the lives of strangers we encounter on Arizona highways.

Oh, by the way, after graduating from college and going on to earn her Master's degree in education, our daughter's first teaching job was at a mission school on a Navajo reservation.

St. Bonaventure School - Thoreau, NM

God does have a sense of humor, doesn't He?

There Oughta Be A Law...Not!

Chuck Schumer Ranting

For the past few days, since the start of the new congressional session, our federal legislators of both parties have been racking up the live-shots on TV news. I suppose they just can't help themselves. It probably has something to do with the politically oriented personality, a psyche that seeks and often demands constant attention. (This character trait is why nation-wide term-limits will always be an unattainable goal.) In their defense, though, I'll agree that the media, especially the 24-hour news-focused television media, have provided one of the more effective means of getting a politician's message and face in front of the people. And as agents of the status quo, they can't be expected to try something new.

Donald Trump Cheering

Our president-elect, however, is anything but a friend of the existing order. Thanks to years of media exposure, his face and his voice are almost universally recognized. He need not  introduce himself to the nation; it knows him already. Through his business experience and his unorthodox campaign it would seem he has come to realize several important things: (1) the people don't want another talking head for a president; (2) the media tend to filter what he says through their own political and ideological biases; and (3) keep the message simple, concise and clear. And so, instead of seeking out the TV cameras to communicate, he's chosen to go directly to the people with tweets of 140 characters. Not only do the people like it, but it's also proven to be extremely effective in producing the results he seeks. 

As one might expect, the mainstream media is apoplectic about Mr. Trump's use of Twitter because he's been able to bypass them as he communicates to the nation, thereby threatening their continued relevance. The opposition politicians -- most Democrats and a few Republicans -- join the media in their disdain of his tactics. They rant and rave from the House and Senate floors in hour-long diatribes that nobody listens to. It's all quite remarkable.

One thing I've noticed is the number of these legislators who, in praise of themselves, focus almost entirely on the number of laws they've enacted and of all the new legislation they're just aching to pass. Fortunately, a few of them take an opposing view and are more concerned with the laws they'd like to overturn. The repeal of so-called Obamacare (the Affordable Care Act) is at the top of most Republicans' lists, and I certainly have no problem with that. Any law that places the healthcare of the individual in the hands of incompetent government bureaucrats must be repealed. And for most citizens it's proven to be anything but affordable. It is also far too complex and like our tax structure is incomprehensible, not only to the average citizen, but even to the supposed experts. It has to go.

I have come to appreciate Mr. Trump's simple approach to things political. Our founding fathers were of a similar mind when it came to the enactment of laws. Laws, they believed, should be clear and simple so they can be easily understood by the citizen. One cannot obey a law that cannot be understood. And there shouldn't be too many of them. Laws are necessary to prevent societal anarchy, but a constant increase in laws means a constant decrease in freedom. Too many laws also lead to the growth of government and the creation of agencies needed to interpret and enforce the laws. This too impinges on our freedom. And our laws should not contradict one another, but should reflect a continuity of purpose and result, one that supports the moral foundation of the republic. 

We have strayed far from this understanding of the law. At all levels of government our laws are too many, too complex, and too arbitrary.  Even more disturbing, the executive branch has circumvented the legislature by issuing a constant stream of executive orders which it enforces as if they were laws. And the judicial branch has evolved to function as a kind of super-legislature that can enact its own laws without any effective oversight.

Can we overcome these near-fatal faults and regain our freedom as citizens of this great republic? I'm not particularly optimistic, largely because of the sharp divisions that exist among the citizenry. Racial and ethnic divides, once thought to be lessening, have in recent years intensified. The people we elect to represent us show a remarkable disdain for the good of the people and focus instead on that which will aid their reelection. And as religion is increasingly forced from the public square, the nation seems to have lost its moral compass.  We murder the innocent and inconvenient and label the good as evil and the evil as good. 

Can all this be changed? Yes, it certainly can, but not by man's doing. It will take the movement of God, the Lord of History, to save us from ourselves. All we can do is stay faithful, never be fearful, and trust in God's mercy.

Pray for our nation and for those we have elected.

Homily: Wednesday, Tenth Week in Ordinary Time

Readings: 2 Cor 3:4-11 • Psalm 99 • Matthew 5:17-19

Not long ago I heard a theologian suggest that Jesus didn’t know He was divine until the Resurrection. He dismissed the many, many Gospel passages that suggest otherwise, saying they were all concocted by believers after the fact. In other words, he thought the New Testament writers were all liars. Of course, I don’t agree.

I thought of him when reading today’s Gospel passage in which Jesus claimed boldly that He had “come not to abolish the Law…but to fulfill” it. This declaration would have shocked any Jew who heard it; for only God Himself can fulfill the Law. Jesus would be seen as a fool, or as a deranged, self-serving false prophet, or as the incarnate Son of God.

For us, of course, they’re the words of someone who knows exactly what he’s about. They’re the words of one who knows he is Jesus of Nazareth, from the household of Mary and Joseph; but they’re also the words of one who’s fully aware of his true Person, who has the extraordinary understanding of himself as Son of God.

When he says, “I have come”, he’s not talking about his recent journey from Galilee to Judea. No, His is the coming of the Divine Word, a unique, metaphysical, historical descent from the Father. He is both the Source of the Law and its fulfillment, the Alpha and the Omega.

His coming, then, is absolute. His teaching is absolute. He stands in our midst simply and humbly, but wielding the power of God. And his Word flows out of him and imposes itself on us just as the rising sun sheds its light and warmth on the earth. Only the source of the Law could preach the Sermon on the Mount, offer the beatitudes, bring to full fruition every tiny seed of the Law, show us the true spirit of the Law, the truth hidden in the letter. The Truth remains hidden until he comes: “I have come…to fulfill it.” It’s only through Jesus’ coming that the Law can reach its full perfection.

He also tells us that nothing in the Law shall perish, not a jot or tittle, not a comma or serif, for God is the author of the Law. Christ’s presence doesn’t abolish the Law, for Christ, as early Christians believed, is the Law. Christ and Law are Lord and Word. Before his coming in the flesh he communicated only indirectly, through messengers; now he communicates in person. When Jesus appears in the world and communicates face to face, He embraces the Law; He tells us and shows us what it truly is, bringing it to fulfillment in His very person.

This is why we revere and continue to read the Law and the Prophets. This is why the Church Fathers taught that the entire Old Testament points to Jesus, its fulfillment. And recall how Jesus, Himself, changed the hearts of His two disciples on the road to Emmaus by opening the Scriptures to them, taking them through Moses and all the Prophets interpreting his Word.

Jesus is the author of both the cosmos and the Law. The cosmos is his artistic revelation, through order and beauty, but the Law is his personal revelation, his face-to-face revelation in words. Without the Law, without Jesus Christ, we wouldn’t understand the cosmos. We wouldn’t understand anything.

God's peace.