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 physician. Show all posts
Showing posts with label physician. Show all posts

Tuesday, October 18, 2022

Homily: Feast, St. Luke, Evangelist

I didn't actually preach this homily today, since the celebrant decided to preach, which is certainly fine with me. But since I had prepared a homily for St. Luke's feast day, I thought I might as well post it here.

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Readings: 2 Tim 4:10-17b; Psalm 145; Luke 10:1-9  

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Today we celebrate the feast of St. Luke, evangelist and companion of Paul – author of the Gospel that bears his name and also the author of Acts of the Apostles. Of all those early Christians, those we read about in the Gospels and in Acts, Luke is the one I’d most enjoy meeting and spending some time with.

He was a physician – “beloved physician” Paul calls him – and therefore like Paul an educated man – something that’s evident by the quality of his writing. Most scholars believe he was a Greek and a Gentile, but whatever his background, it’s apparent Luke was in the first wave of Gentile converts to the Faith. 

His Gospel was aimed at the Gentiles, those unfamiliar with Jewish Law and custom. In other words, he wrote for folks like you and me, so his approach is quite different from the other Synoptic gospels. For one thing, he rarely quotes the Old Testament, and never refers to Jesus with the Hebrew title of Rabbi, but always with the Greek title of Master. Unlike Matthew, Luke doesn’t trace Jesus’ genealogy from Abraham (the founder of the Jewish race) but from Adam (the ‘founder’ of the human race). 

Luke gives women a more prominent place in his Gospel. The nativity and infancy story, much more extensive in Luke’s Gospel, is told from Mary's point of view. And it’s through Luke that we know about Elizabeth, Anna, the widow of Naim, and the woman who anointed Jesus’ feet.

Luke also gives us some of the most beautiful parables, for example, the Prodigal Son; and only Luke relates the parable about the non-Jew, the Good Samaritan. Without Luke we wouldn’t have the road to Emmaus or those three great canticles -- Mary’s Magnificat, Zechariah’s Benedictus, and Simeon’s Nunc Dimittis – canticles we pray every day in the Liturgy of the Hours. But what I like most about Luke’s Gospel is the emphasis he places on prayer and praise, and the mercy and goodness of God. He describes Jesus praying at all key moments of his life.

What sort of man was Luke? Well, in today’s first reading we get a glimpse of the real Luke. Writing to Timothy, Paul describes how he’s been abandoned by co-workers and friends except for two key companions.

Onesiphores, had traveled far and found Paul, seemingly without help from the Christians in Rome. And Luke who had remained with Paul, endured the imprisonment with him and cared for him. It would seem Luke’s friendship was important to Paul. Cut off from his own community, perhaps unappreciated by the Roman Christians, Paul faced certain execution, and was unable to move about and preach the Good News. We sense his loneliness. 

Luke, trying to complete his texts, found himself attending to Paul who was probably held in some sort of house confinement or possibly even imprisoned. We can only imagine what this friendship might have cost Luke personally. He probably wondered whether he’d also be caught up in Rome’s campaign to destroy the Christian message. But his loving care remained authentic, and he stayed beside his friend.

True friendship is a uniquely human experience and is often most clearly shown by the small acts of care and attention one person shows for his or her friend. It’s also a simple thing, something in which even a child can participate. And yet it has a divine element as well. Listen, again, to these words from today’s psalm: 

“Your friends make known, O Lord, the glorious splendor of your Kingdom” [Ps 145:12].

Yes, the compassion and love that are the signs of friendship are also signs of the Kingdom of God, signs of God’s grace. Knowledge of the Kingdom is made possible by experiencing the quality of love that a friend bestows.

The Gospel, too, invites this insight. Friendship brings a Spirit of Peace with it; and where the Spirit of Peace is found, one discovers true hospitality. It is, then, in the heart of true friendship that the lost, the lonely, the abandoned, the imprisoned, the hurting, and the broken find encouragement and are made whole and healthy and strong again.

Saint Luke is the patron of physicians, not just because he was one himself, but because he was a healer of the both the heart and the soul. He was a true friend to Paul, who no doubt was in great need of consolation. 

But St. Luke is also recognized as a friend of the poor and the outcast, because he recorded how Jesus took pains to care for the least, the most rejected, the impoverished. At the Last Supper, Jesus set the example for all of us saying, “I call you friends,” because a friend will lay down his life for the other.

Luke, recognizing the divine character of this most human of relationships, followed the Lord’s example. Perhaps, then, we should honor St. Luke as the patron saint of friendship.


Saturday, January 15, 2022

Homily: Saturday, 1st Week in Ordinary Time - Year 2

Readings: 1 Sam 9:1-4,17-19; 10:1 Ps 21; Mk 2:13-17

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In Rome, not far from the touristy Piazza Navona, is the church of San Luigi dei Francesi (St. Louis of the French). In one of its side chapels are several paintings by Caravaggio depicting events in the life of St. Matthew. They’re all masterpieces but one is especially wonderful: “The Call of Matthew.”

Caravaggio: The Call of Mattthew

The painting depicts the same scene Mark describes in today’s Gospel passage: the call of Levi, the tax collector, a man you and I know better as Matthew. Caravaggio depicts an indoor scene, with Matthew seated at his money table, surrounded by a group of his well-dressed associates. Unlike these others, Jesus is barefoot, as if His simplicity and holiness separate Him from everyone else in the scene. Peter stands beside Jesus.

Although the room is rather dark, a beam of light appears to extend from Jesus, who is pointing directly at Matthew. And Matthew? Seated there with a questioning look on his face, he points his finger as well, but at himself, as if to say, “Who me? You’re calling me?” We seem to sense that Matthew was surprised by this call from our Lord.

Jesus had just called four fisherman -- Simon, Andrew, James and John – and I suspect they, too, were skeptical of this latest choice, the tax collector. After all, the people had nothing but contempt for tax collectors, who not only worked for the despised Roman rulers, but were also known for enriching themselves through a form of legal extortion.

But isn’t it remarkable? Matthew didn’t hesitate. Indeed, he responded immediately. As Mark tells us, “He got up and followed Jesus.” How different from the call of the future King Saul we heard in today’s reading from 1st Samuel. Matthew and Saul both respond to God’s call, and both will stray. But one repents in faith and becomes apostle and evangelist, while the other continues in his obstinate rejection of God’s will.

Mark then takes us to Matthew’s house, where Jesus and the disciples join the tax collectors and others for a meal. The Pharisees, of course are scandalized that Jesus, this reputed holy man, would associate with these public sinners. But those who consider themselves holier than others are always scandalized, aren’t they?

How does Jesus respond?

“Those who are well do not need a physician, but the sick do. I did not come to call the righteous but sinners” [Mk 2:39].

Indeed, you and I should love and cherish these words because we’re the sinners he’s talking about. How did Paul put it to the Romans: 

“…for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” [Rom 3:23]. 

Six months ago, I had my semi-annual meeting with my physician, a man I think the world of. He informed me that, despite my age and all my aches and pains, I was doing OK, and was probably good for another six months as long as I do as he tells me. Hopeful reassurance indeed. I guess I’ll find out next week when I meet with him once more.

But in Jesus we have a divine physician who promises us, not six months of health, but eternal life.

Brothers and sisters, that He came to call sinners should fill us with hope. As Jesus reminds us, to be a sinner is to be sick, sick spiritually. It’s an illness for which only He has the cure. But we’re called to celebrate that cure and to carry it to others.

Sometimes, though, as a Church, I think we spend an awful lot of our time and resources preaching and teaching and evangelizing the already converted – to the righteous, as Jesus called them.

Now, I know we can’t ignore those who are faithfully following the Way. But how present are we to others, to those who really need to hear the Gospel message? How present are we to those locked in their sinfulness?

It’s easy to fall into the trap of the Pharisees and avoid those who have drifted far away from God, those who believe they have no hope because they’ve never heard God’s saving Word or experienced His healing touch.

Maybe that’s what you and I should do today, shine a little beam of light, the promise of salvation, on another trapped in darkness.