The occasional, often ill-considered thoughts of a Roman Catholic permanent deacon who is ever grateful to God for his existence. Despite the strangeness we encounter in this life, all the suffering we witness and endure, being is good, so good I am sometimes unable to contain my joy. Deo gratias!


Although I am an ordained deacon of the Catholic Church, the opinions expressed in this blog are my personal opinions. In offering these personal opinions I am not acting as a representative of the Church or any Church organization.

Showing posts with label Slave. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Slave. Show all posts

Sunday, April 21, 2024

Homily: 4th Sunday of Easter - Year B

Readings: Acts 4:8-12; Ps 118; 1 Jn 3:1-2; Jn 10:11-18

I’m going to tell you a story; and it’s a true story.

Back when I was flying off aircraft carriers, we pilots tended to hang out with each other when off duty. We’d talk about aviation, working on improving our skills -- you know, stayin’ alive. But we’d also talk about other stuff, especially over meals. We'd always been told that officers shouldn’t talk religion or politics in the wardroom. In truth, though, we often talked about these things; but we knew each other well and forgave our differences.

One of our squadron pilots, a friend named Bill, talked a lot about religion. I thought that was strange since at best he was agnostic. Anyway, it really bothered him that so many of us were believers, especially Christians. One evening, before one of those tiring night missions, several of us were probably on our fifth cup of coffee, when Bill started on his favorite rant.

“Just look at the universe,” he said. “It’s just too big to imagine with its billions of galaxies. Then we have earth, this tiny planet of ours, so infinitesimally insignificant, stuck in some little cosmic corner.

“Is there a God who made all this? Maybe so. I don't know. 

“But you Christians believe that this God who created everything, and maintains it all, that He decided to come down here to our nothing little planet, become one of us, tell us how to live, and then let us kill Him by nailing Him to a Cross.”

Then he said, “I’m sorry, but this is just beyond…as you would say, beyond belief.” Yes, indeed, Bill thought Christians were idiots. 

Now, I was just another pilot, but felt I had to say something in defense of our faith, so I just said, “Bill, do you love your wife?”

Well, that surprised him. “What do you mean?”

“Just what I said. Do you love Marie?”

“Of course I do.”

“Yes, I’ve seen you together. I can tell you love her.  And you’d do anything for her, wouldn’t you?”

“Yeah, I would.”

“Would you give your life for her?”

“Of course I would. Heck, I’d even give my life for you guys, though you don’t deserve it.”

“Yeah, we know that. You see, Bill, the God who created that great universe you described, also created you and me, and created us in His image and likeness. 

“He created us out of love and created us to love. And because of His love, you can love Marie.”

All Bill said was, “Well…maybe.” I guess I wasn't very convincing.

A few years later I received word that Bill had taken his own life. When we first heard the news one of my more fundamentalist friends said, “How sad that he’s now in hell.”

Well, that made me angry, and for a moment, I just stared at him in disbelief. Finally, I said, “You really think you’re God, don’t you? That you can decide who's saved or who or isn’t. But salvation is God’s business, not ours. All we can do is what Paul told the Philippians:

“…work out your salvation with fear and trembling” [Phil 2:12].

"Only God knows what Bill struggled with, what fears claimed him. Only God knows what was in his heart. All I know is God will look on Bill with love and mercy, for 'His mercy endures forever.'  Because that’s who our God is. And I know nothing else, nothing else for certain.”

I just walked away angry, which was stupid. I’d like to think I’d handle both situations differently today. 

Sisters and brothers, today on Good Shepherd Sunday, we celebrate God’s great love for us, and we do it despite the skepticism and disbelief of so many in the world, people like my friend Bill.

In John’s Gospel we hear Jesus clearly revealing who He is and how important we are to him.

“I am the Good Shepherd. The Good Shepherd lays down his life for his sheep.”

Jesus doesn’t abandon us in the face of danger; no, He sacrifices Himself.

Just consider what it means for God to sacrifice His life for us. This divine sacrificial act has led some to ask: Is God of the Christians insane? Is He crazy? I suppose Bill thought that too.

But our Gid isn't crazy; no, our God is Love. His is a love, not simply beyond our capability, but it’s beyond our understanding. In St. Paul’s words, “He emptied himself” and became one of us to offer His life to save ours. And He did this solely out of love. Do you see the kind of God we have, this Good Shepherd who cares so much for us?

Then, to ensure we get the point, Jesus turns to us and tells us to love others as he has loved us, to be willing to give our lives for them, even for those the world says just aren’t worth it. Our love for God, Jesus tells us, must be mirrored in our love for others.

Remember that wonderful scene described in John’s Gospel when, on the shore of the Sea of Galilee, the risen Jesus asks Peter three times:

“Simon, son of John, do you love me?”

…and each time Peter responds,

“Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.”

To the first yes, Jesus said “Feed my lambs”; to the second, “Tend my sheep”; and to the third, “Feed my sheep.” Your love for me, Jesus is telling Peter, will be evidenced by how well you tend my sheep, my people, those for whom I sacrificed my life to save.

But Jesus didn’t stop with Peter. He turns to all of us, all of us in the Body of Christ. He doesn’t say, “love me as I have loved you.” No, instead He commands, "love one another as I have loved you." 

In our first reading, we learned that our love for others must manifest God’s love, and the good that we do must be done in Jesus’ name. As Peter proclaimed:

“There is no salvation through anyone else, nor is there any other name under heaven given to the human race by which we are to be saved."

It’s all Jesus Christ, in Jesus Christ, through Jesus Christ, and only Jesus Christ.

John presents this a bit differently in our 2nd reading:

“See what love the Father has bestowed on us that we may be called the children of God. Yet so we are.”

Children of God… you and me… all of us:

  • the poor in need of a meal or a place to sleep...they're God's children
  • the Alzheimer’s patient in memory care...is a child of God
  • the lonely, the depressed, whom nobody visits...a child of God
  • the neighbor undergoing radiation and chemo-therapy...she's a child of God
  • the prisoner locked away in his cell...yes, he too is a child of God
  • the single mother struggling to make ends meet...a child of God

And, yes, many of us may be suffering as well, but that doesn’t mean we stop loving. 

For all of us, children of God, are brothers and sisters in Jesus Christ. We’re not strangers; for children of the same loving Father can’t be strangers. Brothers and sisters of our Lord, Jesus Christ, can’t be strangers.

Jesus calls us not simply to love others, but to see and hear Him in them, to realize that what we do for and to each other, we do to Him.

“I say to you, whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me.’

I suppose at judgment we will judge ourselves by our response to this calling as children of God.

Years ago, Diane and I attended a papal audience in Rome, and heard Pope Benedict say:

“As a community, the Church must practice love…The Church cannot neglect the service of love any more than she can neglect the Sacraments and the Word.”

At every level, then — the universal Church, the diocese, the parish, the home – we must love. This is how the Church shows who she really is.

Outside a Catholic church in Syracuse, NY there’s a statue of a man seated on the sidewalk. I think there's a similar statue at Ave Maria University here in Florida. It’s a statue, a sculpture, of a beggar, wearing a hood, his face covered. His hand is stretched out toward those who walk by, much like the hand of the beggar reaching out to Peter in our reading from Acts. 


But if you look closely, you’ll notice a nail hole in that hand. Yes, it’s Our Lord, the risen Jesus bearing the wounds of His love; it’s the Jesus who humbled Himself to became like a slave, a beggar.

For those who pass by it’s a constant reminder to look beyond appearances and see Jesus in all who reach out to them.

And for you and me it’s a reminder that Christ has His hand stretched out to us right now.

God love you.

And please…pray for my friend, Bill, and for all those veterans who found their lives to hard to live.


Thursday, September 3, 2020

COVID-19 Bible Study Reflection #15: A Relationship of Love

In today’s reflection I hope to focus on several different but interrelated aspects of our relationship with God:

·  God’s limitless love for us, best expressed by the Incarnation
·  Our love for God, expressed by our obedience to His commandments
·  The manifestation of this loving relationship in how we love each other
——————————-
And so, let’s look first at God’s love for you, His love for me…
“…everyone who acknowledges me before others the Son of Man will acknowledge before the angels of God” [Lk 12:8].
Are you moved and filled with hope when you hear these wonderful words of Jesus? Could we hope for much more than to be acknowledged before the angels? What Good News this is – God’s promise of salvation and His call to evangelization.
And yet, sadly, I encounter so many people who, because of their sins, almost despair of achieving salvation. Among their mistakes, of course, is the idea that they, or indeed anyone, can achieve salvation. We can’t…not on our own. Salvation, like every other good thing, is a gift from God.
A few years ago, in his homily during Mass at St. Martha’s House, the Vatican guesthouse where he lives, Pope Francis said:
“One of the hardest things for all of us Christians to understand, is the gratuity of Jesus Christ’s salvation.”
In other words, because God’s love is so far beyond any human love we could ever experience, we find it hard to understand it, much less accept it. How can God love me in my sinfulness? I always seem to be falling instead of rising, always disappointing myself, always disappointing God.
Yes, we are called to obedience, to do as God has commanded us as a response to His gratuitous love. And yet because we are sinful, imperfect creatures, we often fail to live out our faith. We find ourselves, then, in the midst of a battle, but an internal, self-made, and unproductive battle.
The pope continued by suggesting how much better it would be if we would only focus on God’s great commandment:
“You shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your being, with all your strength, and with all your mind, and your neighbor as yourself” [Lk 10:27].
This is the commandment that saves. This is the love that truly reflects God’s gratuitous love for us. How did St. Peter put it?
“Above all, let your love for one another be intense, because love covers a multitude of sins” [1 Pt 4:8].
Do you and I believe the Lord saves us freely, that we have done nothing to merit salvation? I hope so, because it’s the truth, the Good News we’re called to take to others. This is the remarkable love, God’s love, we’re called to share with the world. And it’s through this sharing of God’s love that we can acknowledge Jesus Christ before others. Never forget what St. Paul wrote to Timothy:
“God our savior… wills everyone to be saved and to come to knowledge of the truth” [1 Tim 2:3-4].
Don’t place limits on God’s limitless love, but put aside your judgment of others, and instead do God’s work in the world by helping others “come to knowledge of the truth” which is Jesus Christ...
For He, and only He, is “the Way and the Truth and the Life” [Jn 14:6].
——————————-
Okay, we know that God loves us. But what does He expect of us?
Let’s turn first to the Letter to the Romans, the longest of St. Paul’s letters. In many respects it’s also the most important of his letters in that it touches on all the major themes of the Gospel. It’s really a treatise on the Good News of Jesus Christ.

"Paul, a slave of Christ Jesus, called to be an apostle and set apart for the gospel of God...to all the beloved of God in Rome...called to belong to Jesus Christ...called to be holy [Rom 1:1,6,7].
Romans begins with Paul describing himself as “a slave of Christ Jesus” [Rom 1:1]. Some folks find this a bit odd. After all, as baptized Christians, are we not adopted children of the Father? Doesn’t the Church teach that we’re sisters and brothers of Christ? And doesn’t Jesus call His disciples His friends?

Which, then, are we? Brother, sister, friend, or slave? Well, the only correct answer is “all of the above.”
Here is another wonderful paradox of our Christian faith. Yes, Paul is right: in a sense, we are slaves – servants called to do the will of God. But because we are also God’s children, and because Jesus calls us to be His friends, God doesn’t demand slavish obedience, an obedience of submission. He instead allows us to choose. We obey our God out of freedom, a freedom arising from our close relationship with Jesus. In a sense we are slaves living in freedom. I told you it was a paradox.
As Jesus’ friends, as His brothers and sisters, we want to do as He asks. We respond obediently just as a slave would, but we do so because we recognize God’s great love for us. In faith we know we are loved by the Father who brought us into being. We are loved by the Son who gave His life for our redemption. We are loved by the Spirit who guides us, inspires us, and leads us on our journey of faith. And in faith we return that love by trusting that God will call us to do only that which is good. In faith we accept that God knows best what’s good for us.
When I was a little guy, my parents bought me my first bicycle as a birthday gift. I could hardly wait to ride it, and so I got up early that next morning, climbed on that little bike and tried to ride it. A valiant attempt, but I immediately fell over onto the driveway and skinned a knee and elbow. I was horrified and embarrassed. I had failed to ride this wonderful thing for which I had waited so long.
My dad, who had witnessed this from the kitchen window, came outside and said: “Look, if you want to learn to ride your new bike, you’ll have to let me teach you. Will you do that?”
I had to think about it. I hated to admit I couldn’t do it on my own, but I really wanted to ride that bike. I wanted the freedom it offered, the ability to go wherever I wanted in our little town. And so, I buried my pride and turned myself over to my dad’s instruction.
An hour later I was pedaling up and down our street, about as happy as a six-year-old could possibly be. My father, too, was smiling, happy I had placed my trust in him and learned an important lesson.
That day I learned I couldn’t do everything myself, that first I had to learn and grow, to accept help. Paul teaches the Romans much the same thing by focusing on God’s call to each of us. 
In Paul’s words, he was “called to be an Apostle” [Rom 1:1] and was writing to those “called to belong to Jesus Christ” [Rom 1:6], to those “called to be holy” [Rom 1:7].
That’s our calling: “to belong to Jesus Christ” and “to be holy.” And Paul’s Letter to the Romans goes on to explain this call.
Jesus, then, calls us to follow Him, to deny ourselves, to take up our own cross, for only by doing so can we be His disciples. But that’s just the beginning, for we’re also called to “make disciples of all nations” [Mt 28:19].
Sounds like a tall order, doesn’t it? And so, how do we do it? 
Not by relying on our human strengths, not by thinking we can do it all ourselves, not by trying to fix things, or solve problems, or convince others to be just like you or just like me. Too often we try to force others, to argue them into discipleship. Believe me, it doesn’t work. I know because I’ve tried.
You see, making disciples is God’s work. Let God work through you, especially through your weaknesses. Most often it means simply being there when another is in need. It means seeing Jesus Christ in your spouse, in your children and grandchildren, in everyone you meet…and letting them see Jesus Christ in you.
Jesus calls us to love the unloved, to feed those who hunger and thirst for God’s presence in their lives. And He calls us to be that presence, to be God’s quiet, loving presence.
We are the called, brothers and sisters. This is our identity as Christians. This is the meaning of our lives. Let’s all try to live a life worthy of our calling.
Our loving relationship with God, then, must also extend to others.
———————- 
Jesus was always teaching, wasn’t He? And like any good teacher, He was always being questioned.
Even as a youth, as a twelve-year-old in the Temple, Jesus answered the questions of the wise. Luke tells us that “all who heard him were astounded at his understanding and his answers” [Lk 2:47]. Isn’t that remarkable? They, the Temple’s wise ones, were questioning Him!
And the questions continued right up to that final barrage Jesus received from Pilate, as He stood before him facing death. Even Pilate, the Roman Patrician who no doubt considered the Jews little more than rabble – even Pilate sought answers from this Jesus, this teacher whom he would soon judge under man's law. 
“Are you the King of the Jews?” [Jn 18:33]
“Where are you from?” [Jn 19:9]
“Do you not you know that I have…power to crucify you?” [Jn 19:10]
And, of course, that other question, sneered by Pilate, that first-century relativist: 
“What is truth?” [Jn 18:38]
Pilate should have asked, “Who is truth?”, because he was in the presence of “the Way, the Truth, and the Life.”
Almost everyone Jesus met asked Him questions. It’s as if, somehow, they all knew, if only subconsciously, who He really was. Those He encountered seemed to sense He was far more than just a teacher. What did the centurion say as he looked up at the crucified Jesus?
“Truly this was the Son of God” [Mt 27:54].
And then there was the scholar who approached Jesus and asked:
"Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?" [Lk 10:25]
The scholar, of course, was testing Jesus. He knew the answer to his question because it was right there in the Word of God. And so, Jesus tests the tester with a question of His own:
“What is written in the Law? [Lk 10:26]
As expected, the scholar went directly to Scripture and provided the correct answer:
“You shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your being, with all your strength, and with all your mind, and your neighbor as yourself” [Lk 10:27].
But it’s not necessary to be a scholar to know God and what He expects of us. Indeed, just moments before Jesus had prayed to the Father:
“I give you praise, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, for although you have hidden these things from the wise and the learned you have revealed them to the childlike.” [Lk 10:21]
But not being very childlike, the scholar, hoping more to justify himself than to learn, asks Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?” In His answer Jesus offers us a gift, the Parable of the Good Samaritan, a parable both scholar and childlike can understand: 
“A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho...” [Lk 10:30]
But what exactly did the Samaritan do? After all, he was a Samaritan, despised by the Jews, thought to be outside the Law. And yet, he obeys that Law, doesn’t he? Well, at the very least, he listened to his well-formed conscience and acted righteously. And this set him on the path to eternal life. Remember that original question: 
“Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” [Lk 10:25]
This is what Jesus' answer is all about. Three encountered the wounded man on the road, but only one of the three did anything to help. How did Jesus put it? “Many are called but few are chosen” [Mt 22:14]
And so today, let’s reflect on our own lives. Who are the wounded you and I encounter? The physically wounded? Or mentally wounded? Or spiritually wounded? Do we even recognize them in the busyness of our lives? Or perhaps we see them, but turn away, preferring not to be bothered. Anyway, someone else will take care of them.
Is this how we hope to inherit eternal life? As Christians we should know better. To inherit eternal life, we must come to know God in faith, to know Him as the Way, the Truth, and the Life. 
This knowing of God is really a knowledge of love. As John reminds us: to know the Truth that is God is to know God, who "is Love" [1 Jn. 4:16]. It always comes back to Love, doesn’t it? To love the Lord your God with all your being, and to love your neighbor as yourself.
How did Mother Teresa put it? "If you judge people, you have no time to love them." Yes, indeed, we spend so much time judging others, and so little time loving them.
St. James reminded us all of this when he wrote that "mercy triumphs over judgment" [Jas 2:13].
We should all thank God for that.