Homily: Monday, 29th Week in Ordinary Time

Readings: Eph 2:1-10; Ps 100; Luke 12:13-21

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In today’s Gospel passage Luke describes an encounter between Jesus and a man fretting about his inheritance. The man came to Jesus because these were the kind of disputes a rabbi would often settle, and by calling Jesus “Teacher” he indicates that Our Lord is seen as a kind of rabbi.

But Jesus turns the tables on him, doesn’t he? He treats the man kindly, calling him “Friend,” but then indirectly reprimands him, doesn’t He? You see, Jesus knows what’s in the man heart, the same vice that thrives in so many hearts. Jesus sees greed and materialism.

Now Jesus’s audience that day was probably not the wealthy of 1^st-century Palestine. He’s just speaking to folks, mostly poor folks, struggling to make living. But one doesn’t have to be rich to be greedy. Greed and avarice are among the most common of human failings and aren’t confined to the wealthy. We can all succumb in our struggle to earn our daily bread, or to achieve wealth through other means. The only difference between greedy wealthy and the greedy poor is that the former succeeded in turning greed into wealth.

Jesus, of course, knows what the people need to hear, that one’s life does not consist of possessions. And to make His point, He relates a parable. I’ve always called this one, the “You Can’t Take It With You Parable,” because that’s really what it’s all about.

If you reread the parable, you might notice that perhaps the most common word used by the rich man is “I.” As Sister Francis Jane told our eighth-grade class, “The fact that it’s the shortest word in the English, made with a single stroke of the pen, is probably a good indication of its relative importance." The rich man saw nothing beyond himself, nothing beyond his little self-contained world, apparently assuming it would continue indefinitely.

Has human nature really changed in 2,000 years? Many today, as was for the rich fool of the Gospel, are driven to build the equivalent of better and bigger barns, to gain ever more personal wealth.

Now wealth, in itself, isn’t an evil. But when it’s misused…when it’s seen as an end in itself and not a means to do good…when it’s unjustly accumulated at the expense of others…when greed and envy become the guiding forces in its acquisition…then it always leads to evil.

Throughout my life I’ve encountered more than a few men and women very much like the rich man in the Gospel, focused solely on possessions, yet unaware of the obvious paradox of possession. Those driven by greed to collect riches only prove how poor they really are. For them, no amount of wealth is sufficient, because no amount can ever bring true happiness. How very sad. They devote their lives to adding zeroes to their net worth – so much work for just another zero! 

When the rich man of the Gospel unexpectedly encounters death, his true poverty is exposed. Suddenly, his wealth means nothing, its value eclipsed by the person he had become. Those whom the world sees as successful can be abject failures in the deepest sense because they try to live without God’s sustaining power.

Jesus is warning us against going it alone, trying to hold the future in our own hands, of focusing only on our possessions and life’s comforts, of wasting our time on that which doesn’t last. We need the humility to recognize that our planning may be futile, and the courage to trust that the Good Shepherd continues to lead and guide us along paths we can neither anticipate nor understand.

Self-sufficiency is one of the great myths of our time, a myth preached constantly by the world. Just as “with God, nothing is impossible,” so too without Him, nothing lasting is possible.

There’s a hunger today for more than bread, more than possessions, especially, I think, among younger people. We must help them turn to Jesus Christ as the solution, as the source of true happiness, and do so by our own example.

We were created as spiritual and bodily beings and the only truly satisfying nourishment while we’re here on earth is God’s Presence poured into us in Word and Sacrament. And it’s all a gift. As Paul told the Ephesians, by God’s grace we are saved.

Let’s pray that we strive always to seek God’s will for us: that we will not arrive at the end of our lives having forgotten to live; and that we may live well so we won’t be afraid to die.

Homily: Healing Service

This morning one of our visiting priests, Father Ron Oser, celebrated the morning Mass. Deacon Dick Stevens and I assisted. Twice each year we conduct a healing service following this Mass, so the Mass and service draw many who seek healing in their lives and the lives of others. I was asked to preach the homily at Mass, which I have posted below.
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Readings: Is 6:1-8 • Psalm 93 • Gospel: Mt 10:24-33
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A few years ago, on one of my chaplain days at the hospital, I entered the room of a parishioner.

Normally Diane and I minister together, but on this particular day she was ill and couldn't join me. Of course, her absence means I'll more likely say or do something amazingly stupid.

Anyway, I recognized the man, and we talked for a while about his illness. Then I prayed with him and gave him a blessing. He was lonely and afraid, and not all that comfortable as I prayed. Before leaving, I asked if I could add him to the prayer list of parishioners who are ill.

"Oh, no," he replied, "I don't want people to know I'm sick. I'd like to keep it quiet."

"Oh, okay," I said and left his room. I told you I'd do something stupid.

After visiting a few more patients, I entered a room that was crowded with visitors. I apologized for interrupting and said I'd return later, but the patient, a woman of 85, just said, "Don't go. Come on in and join the crowd." And so I did.

She was a Southern Baptist and her visitors included her husband, a sister, a neighbor, several members of her church, and her pastor. Our conversation covered the waterfront -- her family, her hometown, her illnesses.

In her words, "I've got so many things wrong with me, they don't know which ones to work on. But I really can't complain; God let me live a lot longer than I expected."

I asked if I could pray with her, and the whole crowd joined hands.

I prayed for healing and peace, that God's will be done in her life and the lives of all present. We prayed for her doctors, her nurses, and her husband, and thanked God for the gift of friendship. We thanked God too for the gift of discipleship, for those who listen to the Lord when He says, "I was...ill and you cared for me..." Before leaving, I remarked that she was blessed to have so many caring for her and praying for her.

"Yes," she said, "I am blessed. And their prayers mean so much. They let me know that I am loved, that I belong."

When I left home that morning, I asked Diane to pray that I would minister worthily and well. I guess she did, because as soon as I left that room I headed back to the room of our parishioner. I sat down and said:

"Your Baptism made you a child of God, a member of the Church, of a community of the faithful, a community called to love you. Let that community know you need their prayers, because, believe me, you do. The prayer of the community brings healing; it brings you to repentance and brings peace of mind and soul; it brings you the joy you seek in your life, the joy promised by the God who loves you. In your illness you're lonely and afraid. But God wants you to love and be loved. He wants you joyful, not fearful. Don't let pride separate you from those who strive to be true disciples by doing God's will in the world, which includes loving and praying for you. By praying and caring for you they further God's plan for their salvation and that of the world."

Now, I was just as surprised by my words as he was. They certainly didn't come from me. No, the Holy Spirit and Diane's prayers brought those words into being.

Anyway, after the Spirit's little homily, the patient agreed to be prayed for and as I left I asked him to pray for the Baptist woman down the hall. That generated an odd look so I just said: "Pray for her. Her joy will bring you healing."

It's hard not to think of him as I stand before this community of the faithful gathered here today.

We're gathered in communion, as the Church; gathered here in Jesus' holy name; gathered in Christ's Eucharistic presence; and through that communion we're graced by healing today. This, then, is today's first healing thought:

It's through communion with Jesus, communion with each other, indeed, communion with God's created order that brings healing into our lives.

As Jesus reminds us in today's passage from Matthew: He is "Master of the House." We're not the Master. Our redemption, our healing take place on God's terms, not ours. When we come to terms with God's terms, we may well find ourselves confronting some other corner of our lives where the need for healing is even greater.

We're here today in Jesus' name, and so He is with us. He's also with us in Word and Eucharist. Accept His presence and that of His Spirit, for as Jesus told Nicodemus:

"The Spirit blows where it wills, and you can hear the sound it makes, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes" [Jn 3:8].

Let the Holy Spirit move where He wills in your life. For it is through the Spirit, through Him alone, that you receive the healing God wants for you, that you come to know God's will for you. This leads to our second healing thought:

In our brokenness you and I are called to be both healed and healer.

How many of us, pushing aside our own perceived needs, respond to Jesus' call to be healer? How many of you, here today for healing, are pleading with God to heal those sitting next to you? After all, if we've come together as a communion of faith, gathered here to bring God's healing to His Church, we must respond to His call to be healers.

We all need healing, every one of us. But so often we don't realize the healing God desires for us. Instead we just get irrational: "Why me, Lord, why me?" And then we change our tune: "Heal me, Lord, of this evil thing you gave me."

Isn't that amazing! We blame God, and then ask Him to fix it. And we call ourselves intelligent beings.

We plead for healing...alone

Of course we're just focused on ourselves, and by focusing on ourselves instead of God, we find nothing but fear and loneliness...just like the parishioner in the hospital.

Do we ever think of asking God to turn that which is evil in our lives into something good?

Look around you. Reach out to another in need of healing. Set aside your own needs and minister to the other, to Jesus: "I was...ill and you cared for me" [Mt 25:36].

When we break free of our self-imposed loneliness our fears disappear. Fear's a very natural, human thing. It'd be unnatural not to fear when life is threatened by illness. But listen again to what Jesus says to the disciples:

"...do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul..." [Mt 10:28]

You see, Jesus is telling us that His true disciple need not fear the world and the evils it can bring. And how does He explain this? Simply by letting us know that

"Nothing is concealed that will not be revealed, nor secret that will not be known" [Mt 10:26]

In other words, we should never fear because He promised that, ultimately, the Truth will triumph. He is the Way, the Truth, and the Life. And He will triumph. As His disciples, we'll join in that victory.

And so, Jesus, the Lord of History, assures us that He will overcome every threat to the body, every illness, every persecution. You see, brothers and sisters, the true disciple - like the martyrs of the past and present who willingly sacrificed their bodies for the Truth - knows he is more than his body. This brings us to our third and final healing thought:

God always heals the human spirit first.

In our sinfulness we need healing of the soul, for only that can bring us eternal life. Three times in this brief passage Jesus tells the Apostles, and He tells us, not to fear. He implies that we must instead rejoice.

I think again of that woman of 85 in the hospital, how she rejoiced in her illnesses, how she rejoiced in the gift of life, how she rejoiced in God's love expressed through those who prayed for her. She knew that God had healed her many times during her long life, healed her body and her spirit. She knew, too, that whatever healing God gives her this day is the healing He meant for her to have.
Simone Weil, the brilliant, young French philosopher who escaped the Nazis, once wrote:

"Love of God is pure when joy and suffering inspire an equal degree of gratitude."

Yes, two very different people - Simone Weil, born Jewish, Catholic by conviction, died in exile in 1943 at the age of 33; and my Southern Baptist patient in The Villages Hospital - and yet they both came to know this truth about the love of God. Let me repeat: 

"Love of God is pure when joy and suffering inspire an equal degree of gratitude."

We see this displayed so often in the Gospel - the love expressed by those who seek healing from the Lord, a love arising out of their saving faith.

We see it in the faith of the woman who had suffered for 12 years with hemorrhages. [Mk 5]

We see it in the faith of Bartimaeus, the blind beggar of Jericho, who leaps to his feet and goes to the Lord...to see. To see what? To see the Way, to see the Truth, to see the Life [Mk 10].

Bartimaeus Leaps for Joy and is Healed

Jesus tells them and so many others like them, "Your faith has saved you."

Brothers and sisters, will all of us gathered here today accept the way of the disciple?

Will we unite our prayers to bring God's healing power to each other, to the world?

In our brokenness, will we accept the call to be healers, taking Jesus to those in need?

Is there enough wonder in us to accept that God, by healing our spirits, by creating in us new hearts - that by doing this He is doing something even greater than the creation of the universe?

Yes, we have a lot of work to do today. For we are all here not just to be healed, but also to carry God's healing power to others.

Like Isaiah in our first reading, we are called, but can we respond to God's call?

"Here I am. Send me" [Is 6:8]

Homily: Wednesday, 17th Week in Ordinary Time

Readings: Jer 15:10,16-21 • Ps 59 • Mt 13:44-46

I seem to come across a lot of unhappy people these days. Young folks worried about their future, anxious about what lies ahead, asking whether it even makes sense to get married and bring children into this world. Retirees bored by the freedom of their new lives and wondering about the meaning of all those decades of work. Young and middle-aged couples afraid that their jobs, their homes, their children’s futures – all they’ve worked for – could disappear overnight. And so many afraid of death, unwilling to accept either its inevitability or our faith-driven hope in eternal life.

I suppose we’re all searching for something better, something that will bring true and lasting happiness. How sad that so many look only to the world for what the world can never provide.

This is what today’s Gospel passage is about – about Jesus pointing the way for us, telling us that what we’re searching for only He can provide. He calls it the Kingdom of God or Kingdom of Heaven – a phrase that appears nearly 100 times in the Gospels. But what exactly is it?

Listening to Jesus, we know it’s something to strive for; that it’s harder to enter if you’re rich, but easier to enter if you’re childlike. We know it belongs to the poor, the humble, and the persecuted. It has humble beginnings and grows like seed and expands like yeast. It’s neither here nor there, but it’s among us. But even though it’s among us, we pray for its coming whenever we pray the Our Father.

The Kingdom is near because Jesus is near. It’s proclaimed throughout the whole Gospel. It’s been coming ever since the Last Supper, and in the Eucharist, it’s in our midst. But there’s more…

We learn it’s supremely valuable, something for which we should give up everything. This seems impossible, but Jesus says no. He likens possessing the Kingdom to a man who discovers buried treasure or a merchant who finds a precious pearl. Each sells everything to secure what is so very valuable. If we value God’s Kingdom and help build it up, we will possess it; if we hinder its growth by putting ourselves or other things first, we’ll lose it.

You see, brothers and sisters, to be part of God’s kingdom is to be part of God’s family, to be children of God, to become brothers and sisters of Jesus. To possess God’s Kingdom is to achieve the end for which we’re made, to enter into an eternal, intimate relationship with God.

This is Jesus’ message of hope, a message St. Paul repeats when he tells us that for those who belong to God’s Kingdom, all things work for good. Not only is God’s Kingdom the fulfillment of our destiny, but it also brings nothing but good. Just as there’s joy in finding the Kingdom, there’s joy in helping to build it – exactly what you and I are called to do every day.

We build the kingdom whenever we trust completely in God, whenever our selflessness overcomes our selfishness, whenever our love conquers sin and our faith overcomes suffering.

We build the kingdom whenever our hope conquers despair; whenever we visit the sick, comfort the dying, feed the hungry, shelter the homeless.

When married couples live their lives as an example to others, they build the Kingdom.

When our parishioners work courageously for life, changing the hearts of those who would promote the culture of death through abortion, euthanasia, or capital punishment, they build the Kingdom.

When our pastoral visitors bring love, compassion, companionship, and the Eucharist to the sick and the homebound, they build up the Kingdom.

When our catechists help parents build a solid foundation of faith for their children, they build the Kingdom of God.

When our outreach ministry assists families in need, they build the kingdom of God.

When prayer groups come together in praise and petition, they build the Kingdom.

And we build it in a special way in the Eucharist, when Father, acting in the person of Christ, makes present His redeeming sacrifice on the Cross.

Someday we’ll be asked: “Did you work to build up the Kingdom or to tear it down?“ Are we like all those unhappy people I encounter these days? Are we so caught up in our earthly lives that we define ourselves only by our work, or our family, or our political party? Are we willing to sacrifice everything for nothing? Or have we learned that happiness comes not from the things of this world; that only God can bring the lasting happiness we all seek.

Life is short, brothers and sisters, but it’s filled with opportunities to build the kingdom. Let’s not waste them.

Perk up, folks. Enjoy life. Being is good!

On Sunday when I step up to the ambo to proclaim the Gospel and preach I look out at the congregation and am amazed by what I see: hundreds of faces looking, for the most part, indifferent. In fact, far too many look downright grumpy. It happens every week, so I shouldn't be amazed...but I am, and saddened as well. Here they are, participating in the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass and being given the remarkable opportunity to be nourished by God's Word and by His Body and Blood at His table. And it's an opportunity you and I can seize every day of the week. Should it not be a time of unsurpassed joy, a joy one would expect to see reflected in the faces of those who experience it? That it apparently isn't makes me wonder what in their lives makes these people happy. What is it that brings joy to them? Perhaps nothing.

As I mulled this over, I recalled a video someone shared with me a few months ago. It's totally secular, not at all religious, but it certainly beings a smile to the faces of those who watch it. And its message is pretty simple: life is a wonderful gift. Just being alive is truly good, and we should enjoy what God has given us, where He has put us, who He has called to share their lives with us.

Just in case you're not one of the over one million people who have viewed this video (below), go ahead and watch it. It's brief. And even if you've watched it before, watch it again. It might just cheer you up.

And then, when you attend Mass this weekend, and the priest or deacon stands before you to proclaim the Gospel, you just might let your face reflect what you're about to hear. The Gospel, after all, is the Good News of Jesus Christ, not the bad news. And don't forget, God does want you to be happy.