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 St. Bonaventure School. Show all posts
Showing posts with label St. Bonaventure School. Show all posts

Thursday, July 18, 2019

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?

Saturday, June 14, 2014

Western Trip Part 5: Everything Grand

I've stepped away from writing about our recent road trip to the West Coast simply because this past week has been so very busy. I've had to teach a couple of day-long courses for the diocese, programs that demanded a lot of preparation. I also came down with some sort of flu that put me in bed for a day of two. But that's all behind me now so I've decided to finish my little blog-based travelogue.

After leaving picturesque Barstow we made our way east, headed for Flagstaff, Arizona. We checked into another dog-friendly La Quinta Inn and because the day was still young, decided to make the one-hour drive north to Grand Canyon National Park.

As senior citizens we can take advantage of what is surely the best deal in America. For the remarkable sum of $10 a senior citizen can purchase a lifetime pass that lets one enter any national park free of charge. Actually, everyone in the car is covered by this little magic pass, so it is truly a great deal. Many parks charge entrance fees upwards of $20 or $25 per car. If you're interested, or if you know someone who is at least 62 years old, here's a link to the online application: Senior Pass. You can also purchase the pass at any national park.

When we arrived at the park's south rim visitors center the first interesting encounter involved several elk strolling through the parking lot. I'm fairly certain this was the first time I'd met up with elk in these circumstances so naturally I snapped a bunch of photos. Maddie was very excited to see these large critters which I suspect she assumed were just big dogs.
An elk at Grand Canyon National Park

We spent the next few hours marveling at the canyon itself. It is too magnificent to describe and indeed looks almost unreal as one stands on its edge trying to take it all in. Because it was a weekday in mid-May (children still in school), the expected crowds were manageable, but I was surprised that well over half the tourists were Chinese. Most were in large groups that had arrived in tour buses. They all seemed very impressed with the canyon and I did my part to aid our floundering State Department by volunteering to take several group pictures. I have yet to receive a single word of thanks from Secretary Kerry. (Photos of our visit follow,)
Dear Diane, Maddie and I at the South Rim
Grand Canyon View

Grand Canyon View
Grand Canyon View
Grand Canyon View
Grand Canyon View
Grand Canyon View

The next morning we rose early and drove south along one of the most scenic roads in America, SR 179,  which runs through the magnificent Oak Creek Canyon and leads to the beautiful town of Sedona. In Sedona we had breakfast at a terrific restaurant, Ken's Creekside Cafe, where we were seated on their patio so Maddie could join us. After breakfast we drove around town a bit, before retracing our drive back to Flagstaff and from there continued our eastward trek headed for Santa Fe, New Mexico.
View in Oak Creek Canyon
View near Sedona, Arizona
Sedona, Arizona
Lovely Navajo vendor - bought a pot from her

Along the way, just west of Winslow, Arizona, a town made famous by The Eagles in their 1972 song, "Take It Easy," we stopped to see the even more famous Meteor Crater a few miles south of I-40. I've stopped there at least three times in the past -- I just can't resist the place -- and the kind and loving Diane always humors me and let's me pay the exorbitant entrance fee so I can take more photos of this giant, mile-wide hole in the ground. It's actually quite impressive and makes one grateful that this large meteorite struck in the Arizona desert thousands of years ago and not in central Florida today.
Meteor Crater
Meteor Crater

Leaving the crater behind we soon crossed the border into New Mexico. Along the way we made another brief stop, this time in Thoreau, New Mexico, which happens to be the home of St. Bonaventure Indian Mission and School where our elder daughter, Erin, worked as a teacher back in the 1990s. Erin thoroughly enjoyed her time there teaching Native American children. As I recall most of the students were Navajo and Apache. While I snapped a few photos of the school we met one of the teachers who's been at the school since the 1990s and thought she was probably Erin's replacement. Visit their website and support the work of this wonderful school by donating a few dollars.
St. Bonaventure Indian Mission and School, Thoreau, NM
St. Bonaventure Indian Mission and School, Thoreau, NM
St. Bonaventure Indian Mission and School, Thoreau, NM

In Santa Fe we stayed at another pleasant, dog-accommodating hotel, the Santa Fe Sage Inn. It had been a long day, so we grabbed a bite to eat and turned in early. We spent the next morning walking about in downtown Santa Fe. We stopped by a few art galleries, spent a quiet moment on the patio of a lovely little coffee shop, brought a couple of souvenirs at a sidewalk market, and then made our way to the Loretto Chapel and it's spectacular and very famous spiral staircase. Read the story of this seemingly miraculous staircase on the chapel's website: Loretto Chapel.
Morning coffee with Diane and Maddie
Silhouette of Sculptures atop a Sante Fe building
Unique Santa Fe tour guide
Native American crafts for sale in the Plaza
Locals chillin' in the Plaza
Loretto Chapel, Santa Fe


Amazing Staircase in the Loretto Chapel
After Santa Fe Dear Diane and I decided we'd had a wonderful time on this trip across the USA, but it was now time to go home. Poor Maddie, too, was beginning to get a bit punchy after three weeks on the road. We therefore stayed on the interstate highways and put the pedal to the metal. We did no more sightseeing and were home two days later.

So endeth the trip.