Homily: Saturday, 11th Week in Ordinary Time

Readings: 2 Chr 24:17-25; Ps 89; Mt 6:24-34

Over the years, as I’ve re-read and meditated on these words of Jesus, I’ve come to the conclusion that everyone, every single human being, is a servant. Now, this was no great theological insight on my part, since the Church has been telling us this from its very beginning. It just took me a while to figure it out.

We all serve, whether or not we actually choose to do so. We serve because we are creatures, created beings, and instinctively look to something greater than ourselves. And yet, despite our status as servants, God has given us the freedom to choose.

The question, though, is not: Will I serve? No, the important question is: Whom will I serve? Will I serve Him who promises life and joy? Or will I make an idol, a false god unworthy of my service? In my freedom, what choice will I make? Will I choose the Way, the Truth, and the Life? Or will I choose the father of lies? That’s what it really boils down to.

You see, we’re all created as children of God, to belong to Him completely. Of course, this bothers many people today, whose mistaken concept of freedom leads them to believe they are dependent on no one. Rejecting God, Who brought them into being, they turn themselves into little gods, who will not serve. The irony of it all escapes them: for they remain servants, but servants of some lesser god.

But in today’s Gospel passage Jesus doesn’t seem to be speaking to those who reject God completely, those who choose to serve only another. He’s speaking to His disciples. He’s speaking to us, to the ones who too often believe we can divide our allegiances. How did Jesus put it?

“No one can serve two masters…You cannot serve God and mammon” [Mt 6:24]

At the deepest level I think we all realize this, even though we spend very little time there. To do so can be painful as we encounter the truth about ourselves. And so, we stick to the surface, for it’s there that the world talks to us, telling us we can feed our addictions to all that the world offers, and still be “spiritual.”

We deceive ourselves into believing that we actually serve God, while loving not God but the world. We convince ourselves we can serve Him because we’re strong enough to resist evil, good enough to do good in the world, and spiritual enough to turn to God in occasional prayer and worship…all while we embrace the world, that other master.

But Jesus tells us: No! You can’t serve both. You must choose, choose the One or the other. By trying to serve two masters, we end up serving neither, therefore achieving nothing, certainly nothing lasting. Jesus calls us to make a choice: serve God or serve yourself. And if you serve yourself, your life will be defined by fruitless worry and anxiety.

In the ten verses of today’s Gospel passage, Jesus tells us again and again not to worry, just as He tells us throughout the Gospel not to fear. Worry is simply another form of fear, another symptom of our lack of faith. That’s what fear and worry are, the very opposite of faith. We spend so much of our lives worrying about and planning our future, our material, earthly future while neglecting our spiritual present.

As Christians, as disciples of Jesus Christ, we are called to trust, to turn to God in all things and live His great commandment. We are not called to love money, or fame, or power, or technology, or security, or possessions, or work, or beauty, or even golf.

No, we are to love God and love our neighbor. In his rule, St. Benedict instructed his monks: “Let nothing be preferred to the love of Christ.” Of course, none of this means we should turn away from God’s creation; after all, God proclaimed all creation as good. We can enjoy that which God has given us, so long as we enjoy it responsibly and don’t place it above our love for God and our neighbor. As Jesus revealed to St. Paul:

My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness" [2 Cor 12:9].

Perhaps recognizing our weakness is the best test. If you lost everything today, would your love for God, and the joy this love brings, be as great tomorrow?

Homily: 5th Sunday in Ordinary Time - Year A

I've embedded a video of this homily here. The complete text follows the video.

Readings: Is 58:7-10; Ps 128:1-5; 1 Cor 2:1-5; Mt 5:13-16

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I remember, as a child, hearing my father once describe a friend of our family as "the salt of the earth." At the time I had no idea what my father meant. But I knew, by the way he said it, that it was a compliment. Years later, when our friend died quite suddenly, I recalled my father's words; and thinking about this man's life, I came to understand how fitting a description it was.

He had his own successful accounting business, and although he was both intelligent and capable, he seemed to have few worldly ambitions. He rejected any suggestion of expanding his business, for that would keep him from doing more important things. He was certainly not poor, but he lived simply. 

He and his wife raised their three children to love God and neighbor, and to reject the rampant materialism that has consumed so many in our society. They spent most of their free time, and much of their money, helping others, few of whom shared their faith. A neighbor would lose his job, and the next morning would find a plain envelope containing $200 in his mailbox. That was a lot of money back in the 50s and would often see a family through a month or more of hard times.

When you were with him, no matter your age, he gave you his complete attention, and you knew that he truly cared about you and what you were saying. That was a unique experience for most children. 

And his calmness. I can never recall his getting angry, or even raising his voice. People would say amazingly stupid things in his presence, and he would just smile. Oh, he would stand up for his beliefs and never backed away from the give and take of a good argument. But he always argued lovingly and with a sense of humor. An argument with him never turned into a quarrel. I came to realize that he simply loved people, for to him, every person was a beautiful creation of God; and so, every person was to be honored and loved.

"The salt of the earth…" [Mt 5:13] He took the gift of life that God had given him and seasoned that life and the lives of others with another gift, the gift of faith. His was an active faith, for He spent his life putting into practice the Word of God in today's first reading from Isaiah:

"If you remove from your midst oppression, false accusation and malicious speech, if you bestow your bread on the hungry and satisfy the afflicted; then light shall rise for you in the darkness, and the gloom shall become for you like midday" [Is 58:9-10].

You see, our friend was a Jew who took the Word of God very seriously. "I'm just one of God's workers," he used to say. Even though he wasn't a Christian, as a believing Jew, he knew that God's workers must do God's work. But what is God's work?

Well, Jesus answered that question when He told us:

"This is the work of God, that you believe in Him whom He has sent" [Jn 6:29]

I suppose, then, the question for us Catholics today is, how do we put this faith of ours into practice? How do we respond to the gifts we have received, the gifts of life and faith, both given freely by God. Life doesn’t belong to us, because it doesn't come from us. It comes from God, Who gives life out of love. And so, it carries with it certain obligations: to love the Giver and to respect the lives of others.

In the Creed, which we will pray together just moments from now, we give the Holy Spirit a title: “the Lord and Giver of Life.” Yes, indeed, God is the giver, the only giver of life, His gift of love. This is core reason why abortion, infanticide, and euthanasia are all inherently evil. By rejecting the gift of life, such acts reject the very love of God. And so, they reject God Himself, the Lord and Giver of life.

In the same way, we mustn’t assume that the gift of faith is in any way our doing. As St. Paul tells us in the 2nd reading, our faith doesn't "rest on human wisdom but on the power of God" [1 Cor 2:5]. 

Jesus calls us, as receivers of that gift, to be the "salt of the earth" and the "light of the world."

In today's Gospel passage from Matthew, Jesus spoke, not just to the apostles, for this was the Sermon on the Mount. No, He spoke to the entire crowd that had assembled. Jesus spoke to all of us; and He tells us that...

"your light must shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your heavenly Father" [Mt 5:16].

In other words, simply being a believer isn't enough. We must put our faith into action. Or, as St. James reminds us, "faith of itself, if it does not have works, is dead [Jas 2:17]. And when the light of our faith doesn't shine forth, when we hide it -- as Jesus put it -- "under a bushel basket" [Mt 5:15], then our faith is dead.

As you listen to these words, you might be thinking, Hey, I'm no missionary, and I'm certainly no evangelist. I'm just an average person, who probably does as many bad things as good. And I'm definitely not the salt of the earth or the light of the world.

Well, listen again to what St. Paul tells the Corinthians in today's 2nd reading.

"I came to you in weakness and fear and much trembling, and my message and my proclamation were not with persuasive words of wisdom…" [1 Cor 2:3-4]

You see, Paul was both ill and depressed. He knew he wasn't very impressive to look at, and he knew he didn't preach particularly well. He had arrived in Corinth after a not very successful visit to Athens, and no doubt felt both weak and incompetent. And yet, through this very realization of his weakness, Paul saw the truth: that the Holy Spirit's presence shines forth with blinding brightness within the humiliating context of our weakness. In other words, the power of God is magnified by our weakness.

Paul had once thought much more off himself. Earlier in his life, as Saul, the Pharisee and the persecutor of Christians, he had been so strong, so sure of himself, and so completely wrong. Now, as Paul, the apostle of Jesus Christ, he possesses the truth, but at the same time he sees himself for what he truly is, a weak man with open hands and a vulnerable heart. You see, Paul, through his conversion, had learned humility; he had come to the realization of who he really was with respect to and in the presence of our God.

But it’s always through our weakness that God manifests His power. Just as Mary, a teenaged Jewish girl from a poor family in the forgettable village of Nazareth, could say, “My soul magnifies the Lord…” [Lk 1:46] Yes indeed, just like Mary, through our weakness God’s greatness will shine forth for all the world to see.

You see, brothers and sisters, Jesus has placed His gospel in our weak hands and its proclamation depends on us. This message, the Good News of Jesus Christ, can be seen and heard only when we put it into practice in our lives, in our relationships with others…when we share God’s Presence. It’s a Presence that begins right here with the Eucharist and continues as we leave this church today filled with the Real Presence of Jesus Christ, Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity.

And remember, God's presence in you and me shines forth in the most ordinary things: 

In the selfless love one finds in a truly Christian home.

In the patience and kindness displayed by those who care for the elderly, the sick, the dying, the imprisoned.

In hundreds of simple acts of service to others, acts that enable Christ to be known, so that His light, His glory, will shine through you for all to see…always for His glory, not ours.

God used St. Paul, in his weakness, to begin the conversion of a godless empire. In the same way, God will use you and me, in our weakness, to convert a troubled and sinful world…if only we will let him.

Homily: Wednesday, 14th Week in Ordinary Time

Readings: Hos 10:1-3,7-8,12 • Psalm 80 • Mt 10:1-7

I wonder how many of us really know and experience the power of the gospel, the power of God’s kingdom? In the Lord's Prayer we pray that God will reign in our lives and in our world: "Thy kingdom come; Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven." When Jesus preached God's kingdom His preaching was accompanied by signs and wonders. That’s the power of God’s word, the power of the kingdom he came to announce. “The kingdom of heaven is at hand” – words equally relevant today.

As Christians we all strive to get to heaven, but if we truly know the love and mercy of Jesus Christ, we already possess heaven in our hearts! Do you believe that? Do I believe it? Do we believe in the power of God's kingdom? …the power manifested when Jesus commissioned his disciples to preach God's word and bring his healing power to the sinner, to the weary and oppressed.

Jesus Sends the Twelve to Preach, Heal and Cast Out Demons

Jesus’ choice of the twelve apostles shows us a characteristic feature of God's work: God loves to choose ordinary folks. The apostles were neither rich nor famous. They weren’t professional religious people like the scribes and Pharisees. They were common, ordinary men, who lived ordinary lives. They had no special education or social advantages.

Unworthiness, non-achievement, weakness, obscurity, even potential betrayal – these are the qualities the Lord works with as He shapes those whom He calls. He chose these men, not for who they were, but for what they could become through Him, through the power of the Kingdom.

As we hear their names listed in the Gospel we’re struck by the earthy reality of these men – by the absence of any traits that might remotely set them apart from the common run of humanity. No titles, no connections, no fame…they were eminent nobodies. All we hear are their names, along with a scattering of ordinary details – oh, yes, and Judas’ shameful deed of betrayal.

The list begins with Peter, the repentant traitor, and ends with Judas, the unrepentant traitor. And in between we get just enough to let us know these twelve men actually lived. Yes, they lived in the everyday history of common people, not the history of historians. And beyond that…nothing.

Oh, they were all Jews; but the only other thing the 12 had in common was their call by Jesus. And it’s this calling that communicates power and vision and makes them into new men.

Up until this point in the Gospel it’s been only Jesus who teaches and heals; but now, His apostles will carry out His mission for Him.

It’s from these men that the Catholic Church throughout the world originates. Out of this simplicity, this humble seed, the Church’s roots are formed…its fruit ripened. The arrival of the Kingdom is inseparable from Christ’s establishment of the Church, for the apostles are the nucleus of the infant Church.

Oh, yes, there’s one other thing the 12 have in common: weakness. They’re sinners called from among sinners, broken men from among broken men, made different only by the power of God’s divine call. Jesus chose 12 weak, sinful men to form and lead His Church –12 ordinary men who would do God’s work extraordinarily well. 

When God calls us to serve – and He does call us, each of us, to serve Him by serving His people -- we must never think we have nothing to offer. When God calls us, He takes our meager abilities, He shares His power with us, and He uses us for greatness in his Kingdom, for His glory.

And then we can pray: “Lord, you chose me to be your disciple. Take and use me, in my weakness, in my ordinariness; take what I am, Lord, and mold me into what You want, for the glory of Your name.”