Homily: Saturday, 6th Week of Easter

Readings: Acts 18:23-28; Ps 47; John 16:23b-28

___________________________

Back in my other life, in my consulting days, I was often asked to talk to industrial salespeople and sales managers. One thing I tried to instill in them was the need to focus on both the roadwork and the homework. On homework, I meant becoming true experts on their products and services, and equally important, learning everything they can about their customers. Only then will their roadwork bring dividends.

We see a little of that in our reading from Acts. Apollos, an evangelist from Alexandria, was an eloquent preacher but he was lacking in knowledge of the Christian faith. So, the married team of Priscilla and Aquila took him aside and spent some time teaching Him so he could proclaim the truth of the Gospel confidently. It’s a beautiful example of believers helping, supporting, and encouraging each other in the faith, helping one another to grow in the Lord.

As I thought about today's readings, I recalled a few of my own experiences teaching others, both successful and not so successful. 

About 20 years ago, shortly before we moved to Florida, I was asked to give a brief reflection to an ecumenical group in our Cape Cod town. It was during the Lenten season and the pastors of all the Christian churches thought it would be good to have a series of prayer meetings, open to anyone who cared to attend.

Anyway, my pastor volunteered me to represent our parish, and the Congregational minister who had organized everything, asked me to preach at the first of these weekly meetings. The topic he gave me was prayer...so, there I was preaching to a couple of hundred folks, mostly Protestants, from a half-dozen denominations.

At one point early in my talk, I asked the participants, “To whom do you pray?” Almost unanimously, they answered, “Jesus!” I had expected this, and I told them that praying to Our Lord Jesus Christ was certainly a good thing.

But then I went to the Gospel, and read a number of different passages where Jesus instructs His disciples on prayer. Of course, the most famous is the Lords’ Prayer, or as we Catholics often call it, The Our Father, echoing its first words:

“Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name…” [Mt 6:9]

I then turned to John’s Gospel and read the Word from today’s passage:

“Amen, amen, I say to you, whatever you ask the Father in my name he will give you” [Jn 16:23].

I followed this with another half-dozen passages from the Gospels and St. Paul’s letters, teaching us to pray to the Father, always in Jesus’ Name, and guided by the Holy Spirit.

All too often, though, we think we know what’s best for us, and so that’s what we pray for, as if we need to instruct God on what’s best for us. As St. Paul wrote, encouraging the Christians of Rome:

“…the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know how to pray as we ought, but the Spirit Himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words.” [Rom 8:26].

I’ve always loved that explanation of Paul's. In effect the Holy Spirit is telling us, "You try, but you really don’t know what to pray for, or how to pray, so I’ll just handle it all for you, interceding for you with the Farther…but you must try. Go ahead and pray, perhaps repeating those words of Jesus, 'Thy will be done,' and I’ll fill in the blanks with my inexpressible groanings." Or as St. Paul said to the Ephesians, more succinctly, just “pray at all times in the Spirit” [Eph 6:18].

So, what does today’s Gospel passage, and the New Testament in general, teach us about prayer? Well, among other things, we learn that prayer should be Trinitarian: to the Father, in the Son’s Name, and through the workings of the Holy Spirit. We need only listen to the Eucharistic prayer at every Mass, a prayer addressed to the Father, through the Son – yes, “through Him, with Him, and in Him – and in the unity of the Holy Spirit.” Our prayer, then, has the pattern of the Trinity stamped on it.

As I said to that mixed congregation on Cape Cod, “Pray to Jesus if you like, but remember that any prayer to Jesus will always unite us with the Father through the love and power of the Holy Spirit.” Paul, once again, put it so much better:

“…you received a spirit of adoption, through which we cry, “Abba, Father!” The Spirit itself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God…” [Rom 8:15-16]

Yes, indeed, we are children of the Father…and how good is that!

 

Homily: Saturday, 1st Week of Advent

 Readings Is 30:19-21, 23-26; Psalm 147; Mt 9:35–10:1, 5A, 6-8

________________

What’s really remarkable is how unbelievably busy Jesus was. Listen again to how Matthew describes this typical day in the public life of our Lord:

“Jesus went around to all the towns and villages, teaching in their synagogues, proclaiming the Gospel of the Kingdom, and curing every disease and illness” [Mt 9:35].

The Pharisees had just accused Jesus of collaborating with Satan: "He drives out demons by the prince of demons" [Mt 9:34]. It was, after all, a rather stupid thing to say, so Jesus simply ignores them, and immerses Himself in His ministry. He teaches and preaches in the synagogues, helping the synagogues flourish from within, for it’s the people who hear Him, it’s the people who will be changed by the Word of God. But he teaches and preaches to the crowds as well – to Jews and Gentiles – in the streets, on the hillsides, along the lakeshore. Nobody is forgotten, no one is exempt. As He later commissioned His disciples: “Go, therefore, make disciples of all nations” [Mt 28:19].

And healing? Oh, yes, the healing power of the Holy Spirit flows like a torrent through the hands of the Word. He cures disease, injury, blindness, every imaginable disability, but these are always secondary, aren’t they? For what He seeks above all is the repentant soul, the sinner who, in all humility, seeks salvation through the healing power of Jesus.

He was on the go, non-stop, preaching, teaching, and healing. And then what did He do? Why He told the apostles to do exactly the same: to proclaim the Good News of the Kingdom; to “cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse lepers, drive out demons” [Mt 10:8].

I read those words and let them sink in, and then I recall what my bishop said at my ordination when he instructed us, telling a group of soon-to-be deacons how our lives would change.

“You are called to preach, to teach, and to heal,” he told us. “Easy words to say today, but not so easy to carry out.” I remember thinking to myself, Okay, I think I can handle the preaching and teaching, but what’s this about healing?

There I was, just minutes before ordination, and I’m questioning whether I can handle or even understand what God wants of me. And then my bishop added, “But don’t get all self-important; this isn’t just your calling; it’s really the calling of every disciple of Jesus Christ.” That was about 25 years ago, and despite all my supposed busyness, my days are lazy indeed when compared with the ministry of Jesus.

What about you? How often do you proclaim the Good News of the Kingdom? How many of your friends, your golf buddies, the folks you play cards with…how many of them even think about the arrival of the Kingdom? The Good News is really good, brothers and sisters. And if you’re a disciple, a follower of Jesus – and I assume you are – then you and I better get busy.

And then there’s that healing thing. It took me a while before I came to understand what it all meant, and God wanted of me. And it was all because of Diane. She decided we should be hospital chaplains.

Now, I really didn’t like spending time with sick people, but God always calls us to our weakness, doesn’t He? He does that so we’ll come to understand that it’s through His power, His grace that we can accomplish anything.

In the beginning I would walk into a hospital room and greet the patient, “Hello, I’m Dana, today’s on-call chaplain. How are you today?”

And he’d just look at me and reply, “I’m in the hospital. How do you think I am?”

Not a good beginning, so I learned to ask different questions, to stick to the basics…

“Have they been treating you well?”

“Where are you from? Do you have family here?”

“Have you been talking with God much lately?”

“How about you and I just take a moment to pray together?”

Before you know it, I’m listening to the stories of their lives, the challenges they face, their fears and worries. That’s when I came to realize that God actually does work through us and in us, that others come to know God’s love and to know God because we reflect His Presence.

How many people in your life need God’s Presence in their lives? Will you take the time, just as Jesus took the time, to share God’s healing, forgiving love with them?

Yes, indeed, discipleship is a fulltime job.

 

 

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.

Maddie, My Teacher

How nice it is to have a day off...no meetings, no obligations, just a day to take it easy. As it turned out Maddie, the wonderdog, seemed very happy that I had nowhere to go and would spend the day with her and Diane. The only time we left the house -- and we took Maddie with us -- was to take advantage of early voting in the Florida primary elections.

Maddie, Wonderdog

Anyway, this day with Maddie got me thinking about how remarkably intelligent she is and what she has taught me. Other than Dear Diane, who in her kindness knows best how to remind me of my many weaknesses and encourage me in my few strengths, I believe it is our little Maddie, a ten year old Bichon Frise, who has become my most reliable teacher. 

Yes, indeed, I have become my dog's student. I suspect most dog owners would recoil at such a thought. Dogs are to be trained, fed, played with, walked, and exercised. From this we in turn reap the benefit of their company and their seemingly blind loyalty. I suppose for most people, who share their homes with a dog, this is a reasonable quid pro quo. It was certainly a sufficient trade-off for me and the many dogs I enjoyed before Maddie joined our household. They were all good dogs...OK, a couple had some mild sanity issues. But none ever taught me very much. Or, perhaps more accurately, I wasn't very receptive to their teaching. Aha! You see, I continue to learn. Often enough it's the receptivity of the student that determines the quality of the teaching. Maybe those earlier dogs tried their best to share their canine wisdom with me, but I was simply too wrapped up in my humanity to grasp and absorb their teaching. Perhaps, then, it is the more mature and open person I have become that has made little Maddie such an effective teacher. But, regardless, she does teach me, and her lessons frequently call to mind truths of Sacred Scripture. That's right! Maddie's lessons are the seeds that bear some very fruitful scriptural meditation. 

This should be expected. On the sixth day, right before He created man, 

"God made the beasts of the earth according to their kinds and the cattle according to their kinds, and everything that creeps upon the ground according to its kind. And God saw that it was good" [Gen 1:25]. 

As for dogs, I've always believed the Holy Spirit on that day instilled in them a special nature and intelligence -- "according to their kind" -- something greater than that possessed by the average beast. "The Lord, the giver of life" gave the dog a unique nature that makes it especially compatible as man's loyal companion and workmate. Not only was the dog specially created, but it's been around longer than we have and can perhaps teach us a few things.

"But now ask the beasts to teach you, the birds of the air to tell you; or speak to the earth to instruct you, and the fish of the sea to inform you. Which of these does not know that the hand of God has done this? In His hand is the soul of every living thing, and the life breath of all mortal flesh" [Job 12:7-10].

As I describe Maddie's teaching and the lessons that derive from it, I'll just point to what I believe to be relevant passages  and let you dig into your Bibles should you wish to pursue each more deeply.

These lessons begin early each day. Maddie and I are both morning people -- OK , she's a morning dog, but you know what I mean. We are both at our best in the hours shortly before and after dawn:

"Rising very early before dawn, He left and went off to a deserted place, where He prayed" [Mk 1:35].

"I rise before dawn and cry out; I put my hope in your words" [Ps 119:147].

I rise first, throw on a pair of shorts and a shirt, make the coffee, pray the Church's Morning Prayer, and then retrieve the newspaper from the driveway. I suppose I feel a bit superior because I rise before most others in my time zone, or at least in my neighborhood. I am reminded of the words of the psalmist:

"It is vain for you to rise early and put off your rest at night, to eat bread earned by hard toil -- all this God gives to his beloved sheep" [Ps 127:2].

Maddie still sleeps, but after about 30 minutes she rises and greets me. She neither drinks coffee nor reads newspapers, so it makes sense to grab an extra half-hour of sleep. She does, however, pray. Indeed, every beast prays through its very existence, a sign of God's creative love, a sign revealed through His prophet Daniel:

"All you beasts, wild and tame. bless the Lord; praise and exalt Him above all forever" [Dan 3:81].

Despite the fact that she wakes up hungry, Maddie usually lies at my feet, quietly and patiently. She always allows me time to read the paper and sip my coffee, thus setting an example for all of us who are called to wait patiently: 

"Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what he sees? Bur if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience" [Rom 8:24-25].

Eventually, though, she lets her stomach speak. She sits up, wags her tail enthusaistically, stares at me intently, and utters a series of muted but mildly irritating high-pitched whines. This, she has learned, motivates the lazy, distracted me to act. In truth I see myself as little better than the unjust judge of the parable, pestered by the widow who won't cease requesting justice:

"...because this widow keeps bothering me I shall deliver a just decision for her lest she finally come and strike me" [Lk 18:5].

Take some time to read and meditate on the entire parable [Lk 18:1-8]. There is much good to be found there.

And of course, as Maddie realizes, it is only just that I who accepted the responsibility to care for her, should be willing to feed her when she is hungry.

After eating, Maddie most often curls up in her little bed and rests for a while. Like Our Lord, she seems to know that both food and rest are necessary for the disciple who does God's work:

"He said to them, 'Come away by yourselves to a deserted place and rest a while.' People were coming and going in great numbers, and they had no opportunity even to eat" [Mk 6:31].

But it's not long, perhaps another half-hour, before she again lets me know -- more wagging, staring, and whining -- that it's time for our morning walk. The length of our walks varies, determined largely by the weather. But most Florida mornings are pleasant enough to allow for a longish walk, say 30 to 60 minutes. 

Walking, of course, is a good thing, depending on its purpose. For me it offers a time and place for prayer and an opportunity to contemplate God's greatness through His gifts.

"Arise, walk through the land, across its length and breadth, for I give it to you" [Gen 13:17].

"And walk in love, as Christ loved us and gave Himself up for us, a fragrant offering and a sacrifice to God"  [Eph 5:2].

During these walks Maddie and I converse about all kinds of things. In fact, a few of the neighbors, have occasionally remarked, "Oh, yes, I hear you when you walk your dog, talking to her. How interesting..." I suspect that someone, somewhere in the vast bureaucratic wasteland we politely call "government", has started a file with my name on it. Conspiracy theory? I don't think so.

But did you know that "experts" -- that is, those who spend taxpayer money on such things -- claim that the average intelligent dog has a vocabulary of upwards of 200 words? I don't find this at all surprising. My conversations with Maddie during our walks only confirm this -- something, by the way, I concluded without expending a single tax dollar. 

Let me describe a typical conversation during one of these early morning walks. (Note: Maddie is an adept at what the experts call non-verbal communication, and her expertise is bi-directional: she both "sees" what I'm saying and communicates through both expression and posture.)

When I mention the word "walk" and she hears the noise associated with my retrieval of harness and leash, she heads for the front door. Overflowing with excitement, she begins the game of hiding from the harness. This "game" lasts only a few seconds, but it must be played. Once the harness is on, I tell her to "shake" which she does in a remarkable display of bodily control, a rapid progression of high-speed shakes that moves from head to tail in less than two seconds. Leash attached, she moves to the door, but glances at me over her right shoulder, and I hear the words, "OK, I'm ready. No hesitation. Let's move." And I'm reminded of the need always to be enthusiastic in our faith. When that which is good calls, there should be no hesitation:

"Never flag in zeal, be aglow with the Spirit, serve the Lord" [Rom 12:11]

"He said to them, 'Come after me, and I will make you fishers of men.' At once they left their nets and followed Him" [Mt 4:19-20]

When we reach the end of the driveway, I ask her, "Which way today?" She looks right, then left, and finally decides. 

Again, without hesitation she moves down the street with obvious purpose. 

I jokingly accuse Maddie of suffering from that dreaded canine syndrome, OCS, or Obsessive Compulsive Sniffing. I've learned to live with it and allow her to apply fully her remarkable olfactory talents. The process engages her so completely that all other sensory inputs seem to be ignored. If I speak to her, even using words that would normally bring an instant reaction -- for example, "treat" or "doggie" -- she doesn't react but continues to sample the scents left behind by other of God's creatures. At some point she decides she knows all there is to know and reengages with me. Watching her I'm reminded of St. Paul's advice to stay focused: 

"I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus. Let those of us who are mature be thus minded; and if in anything you are otherwise minded, God will reveal that also to you" [Phil 3:14-15]

This morning, as we sniffed our way along one of the neighborhood streets, we encountered Angel and her master. Angel, a small terrier-like dog, is both blind and deaf, and navigates using her sense of smell alone. Maddie seems to understand Angel's disability and always approaches her gingerly so as not to surprise her. Angel senses Maddie's presence at some distance and turns toward us. They sniff noses and share friendly canine greetings. To Maddie Angel's disability is nothing strange, nothing remarkable. She doesn't shy away. She doesn't avoid her. She treats her just as she would any other dog, with enthusiasm. What a lesson for us. Read Mark's narrative of the healing of the blind Bartimaeus at the gate of Jericho. Note the condescending way the disciples treated this blind man:

"On hearing that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to cry out and say, 'Jesus, son of David, have pity on me.' And many rebuked him, telling him to be silent. But he kept calling out all the more, 'Son of David, have pity on me.' Jesus stopped and said, 'Call him.' So they called the blind man, saying to him, 'Take courage; get up, he is calling you'" [Mk 10:47-49].

Read the complete narrative [Mk 10:48-52] and then ask yourself, "Who is the true disciple here?" Perhaps the so-called disciples should take a lesson from Maddie.

I won't bore you with more of my conversations with Maddie. But I trust she will continue to educate me, continue to show me God's Word in action. She's quite a dog.

 (Just a quick aside for all you cat lovers out there. The largest of dogs can still be a faithful companion, the kind one would trust with a small child. But large cats simply don't posses a nature compatible with domestication. Would you leave a child in the care of a Cheetah? The loyalty of even most small cats is greatly suspect, and seems more directed to self than to another...just one man's opinion.)

Homily: Wednesday, 3rd Week of Lent

Readings: Dt 4:1, 5-9; Ps 147; Mt 5:17-19

I remember the first time one of my children openly disagreed with me. Trust me, it came as a shock.

It was our elder daughter, and I think she was probably 11 or 12 at the time, perhaps even younger. I had pontificated about something at the dinner table, not expecting anything but full agreement, when she said, “No, Dad, I think you’re wrong about that.” The shock was so great I can’t even recall the subject of our disagreement. I remember thinking only, “Our family life is about to undergo a radical change. These children of ours are more than little clones. They’re actually beginning to think for themselves.”

Of course, the four of them had no doubt been thinking for themselves and disagreeing with me for years, but had wisely chosen to remain silent. I also realized that in the future I’d have to give a little thought to what I intended to say or I’d end up having to defend my every utterance.

Naturally, I didn’t change at all. I still pontificated at the dinner table, saying whatever entered my mind. In truth I expected agreement and obedience without having to teach. And as you might expect, our children grew ever bolder in challenging me. This all came to mind thanks to today’s readings.

In Deuteronomy Moses tells God’s People:

“…take care and be earnestly on your guard not to forget the things which your own eyes have seen, nor let them slip from your memory as long as you live, but teach them to your children and to your children’s children” [Dt 4:9].

Then we hear Jesus in the Gospel:

“…whoever breaks one of the least of these commandments and teaches others to do so will be called least in the Kingdom of heaven. But whoever obeys and teaches these commandments will be called greatest in the Kingdom of heaven” [Mt 5:19]

In Moses and Jesus, the Old and New Testaments come together, one pointing to the other, one fulfilling the other – and yet both offering the same Word of God.

Moses pleads with us: Don’t forget. Teach them to your children and your children’s children.

And Jesus demands of us: Obey and teach these commandments.

I’m sure you noticed one of the themes common to both: the call to teach. Yes, both call us to teach, and I wonder to myself…

How well did I teach my children? Did I simply tell them what to think, what to believe, how to act…? Or did I really teach? Did I let them question and probe? Did I help guide them to the truth? Or did I simply tell them and expect unquestioning obedience?

To teach well is hard work because it demands that we place another, the one being taught, above ourselves. It demands humility. And when it comes to teaching the Word of God, the best teacher is the one who lives the Word of God.

This leads us to the second common theme found in our two readings. Both Moses and Jesus also call us to obey. But notice they don’t tell us to extract obedience from others. They don’t tell us to force our children to obey the commandments. No, Moses and Jesus both tell us, the teachers, to do the obeying. For we teach best by how we live. We teach best by our own obedience.

To teach another well, to teach as Jesus taught, means taking the commandments to heart. It means loving our God with all that we have and are, and loving our neighbor as ourselves. Benedict XVI, preaching on the parable of the Good Samaritan, once said:

“Struck in his soul by the lightning flash of mercy, he himself now becomes a neighbor, heedless of any question or danger. The burden of the question thus shifts here. The issue is no longer which other person is a neighbor to me or not. The question is about me. I have to become the neighbor, and when I do, the other person counts for me ‘as myself.’”

Here, too, we encounter the attitude of the true Christian teacher.

Here we find the attitude of the good parent and grandparent.

Here we find the one who is able to love the other as he loves himself

Here we find the one who can lift the other, the one who can bring the other closer to God.

Too busy to write

I've been procrastinating, and have consequently paid the price. We returned from our extended trip up north last weekend and I found myself facing immovable deadlines on two very incomplete projects.

The most pressing is a course I'm scheduled to teach for the diocesan religious education office this weekend at a nearby parish. The course is one of many that make up a diocesan certification program for catechists and Catholic school teachers. Over the past five years I've taught a number of these courses, but this is the first time for this particular course. And so I've been immersed in preparation to the tune of 10 hours/day for the past four days...except for a pleasant six-hour break today working at the soup kitchen. Ain't retirement grand? Actually, it is.

The course addresses Catechesis and Social Ministry, and I've just now completed the last of 108 PowerPoint slides that I hope will lead my students and me through 10-hours of classroom time together. It's a worthy subject and there's certainly an abundance of material to draw from. I'll let you know how it turned out later.

The other deadline also relates to course preparation. But this time the course is aimed at our own parishioners. I suspended our Bible Study for the summer since so many of our parishioners are "snow birds" and I hate to continue the program when so many would be unable to take part. So I decided to offer a "summer school" course on Church History for the brave folks who stay here in Florida during the steamy days of June, July and August. It will start two weeks from now and run for ten weekly one-hour sessions. Let's see...if I cover 2,000 years of history in 10 hours, I'll have to cover 200 years during each session. Arrrghh! I think we might have to gloss over a few events. Either that or I'll have to talk really fast.

New subject. Have you ever been surprised to discover that someone you respect had died perhaps months or even years before and for some reason you didn't know it? It happens to me all the time. And it always bothers me. I actually feel guilty. I should have known and can't understand how I missed it. This happened to me yesterday.

I was glancing through several of the magazines and journals that had piled up during our absence, when I came across an obituary for Father Stanley L. Jaki, OSB, who died almost two months ago on April 7. Father Jaki, one of my heroes, was a prolific author, a theologian and physicist, and a wonderful Benedictine priest. I encountered his writings far too late in life when I picked up a copy of his Genesis 1 Through the Ages a few years ago. This book, along with seven or eight other of his books I have read since, have all challenged and enlightened me. I highly recommend them. You can obtain his books directly from Real View Books and, of course, from Amazon and other online booksellers.

Other than the above, nothing is really new. The politicians continue to lie, cheat and steal and drive our soon-to-be-poor nation into oblivion. Oh, and speaking of oblivion and politicians and gullible voters, did you catch the opinion piece in, of all places, Pravda? If you're over 40 you should remember Pravda, the former official newspaper of the Soviet Union. The old joke back then related to Pravda, which means "truth", and the Soviet news agency, Izvestia, which means "news". Russians used to say, "There's no truth in Pravda and no news in Izvestia."

My, how things have changed! Today Pravda is an independent news source and their online version carried an interesting piece by someone named, Stanislav Mishin, in which he says unkind things about our political leaders and calls the American people, "sheeple". (Click here to read it. It's two pages so don't forget to read page 2.) I suppose we'll soon find out how accurate a prophet he is.

And don't forget to mark your calendars for June 19, the beginning of the Year for Priests called for by Pope Benedict XVI. Make an effort this year to pray for priestly vocations and that the Holy Spirit will support priests in their saving work.

Man and Gull at Chatham Light on Cape Cod (May 2009)

Oh, and you might enjoy this photo (above) I took in Chatham, Massachusetts on Cape Cod early one morning a week or so ago. The man was enjoying his before work cup of coffee and taking in the view near the Chatham Light when the gull landed a few feet away. I happened to have the camera in hand. I like the photo.

God's Peace.