Homily: Tuesday, 15th Week in Ordinary Time

Readings: Ex 2:1-15a • Psalm 69 • Mt 11:20-24

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One of the remarkable things about the Old Testament is the willingness of its authors and the Holy Spirit to hide nothing and reveal almost everything about the key characters. This is so very different from all other ancient religious texts, as well as the official records of other ancient societies. In these, the kings and pharaohs and conquerors were all depicted as near perfect, as godlike men who always won, and never failed.

But not so in the Bible. Beginning with Adam and Eve, and progressing through the Patriarchs to Moses, then on through the long list of prophets and Kings, we encounter so many men, and actually quite a few women; and for all of them, nothing is hidden – strengths and weaknesses, sins and virtues, it’s all revealed.  The focus, you see, is not really on these men and women; rather it’s on God, who chooses whomever He desires to fulfill His plan, to carry out His work in the world. 

And often enough He chooses amazingly unlikely people. Today, for example, in our reading from Exodus, we encounter two versions of Moses.

First, a basket-case floating among the bullrushes, a Hebrew infant, “a goodly child”, his mother called him, surrendered by that mother in hope and trust, and retrieved and adopted by Pharaoh’s daughter.

We next encounter a grown Moses, fortyish and entitled, but a man who presumably knew his roots. Driven by a slightly skewed sense of justice, he willfully kills an Egyptian who was persecuting a Hebrew slave laborer. When the word gets out, Moses realizes he too must get out, and heads east to the land of Midian. Moses is introduced to us in all his imperfections. And yet on Mt Horeb God will choose him to free His people and lead them to the Promised Land. How blessed we are that our loving, merciful God chooses us as well, despite all our imperfections. 

Then we encounter Jesus in our Gospel passage from Matthew. You know, a lot of folks seem to see Jesus solely as the warm and fuzzy, group hug, kumbaya Jesus. And yet, in the Gospel He often comes across quite differently.

Today, for example, He’s taking on the role of Prophet. Indeed, He sounds a lot like Isaiah when that prophet proclaimed God’s judgment on the King of Babylon.

“Down to Sheol you will be brought to the depths of the pit!” [Is 14:15]

Jesus says much the same, doesn’t He? Hard words to those neighboring towns, Chorazin, Bethsaida, and Capernaum, whose people had witnessed all those miracles, but failed to listen. Because Jesus had been with them, and they had seen and heard it all, their judgment will be harsher.

When I was growing up we had a brief family Bible Study every week. Now, to my knowledge, my mom, who was an RN, had no formal training in Sacred Scripture, but always seemed to share wonderful insights. We’d read a few verses then Mom or Dad would ask what we thought of it.

After reading these comments of Jesus, my brother and I tried to say something like: “The people in those towns are really going to catch it.” But Mom simply said, “You know, Jesus isn’t talking to us about those little towns. He’s talking to us about us.” That took all the wind out of our sails. She went on, explaining it all to us in words similar to these...

“Jesus healed all those people because He loved them, and He wanted others to see and understand that they must listen to Him…But so many didn’t. If we instead turn away from Him, we’re no better than the people of those towns. You see,” Mom told us, “Our Lord has been living with us in our home, speaking to us through our church…and when we receive Holy Communion He actually lives within us. Because of that, we must listen to Him, do as He asks us, and let God’s will rule our lives.”

With that, she ended the lesson. Brothers and sisters, Jesus said the same thing, didn’t He? His Gethsemane prayer, words recorded in all three of the Synoptic Gospels:

“Not what I will, but what you will.”

…words that actually encapsulate His entire teaching. Moses struggled to accept God’s will in his life, and so too did the Apostles.

I guess that’s the question for you and me: What’s the focus of our lives, our will our His will? After all, every day we pray, “Thy will be done,” but do we really seek it?

Bible Study Guide: The Book of Jonah

Oops. I inadvertently deleted the post in which I provided a link to my newly revised Bible Study Guide on the Book of Jonah. Truly inadvertent. I thought I was deleting a draft version of the post, but it turned out to be the published version. I think it was originally posted about a week or so ago.

Anyway, for those who care, you can access the guide to the Book of Jonah here: Study Guide - Jonah. 

I hope you find it of some value as you continue your study of Sacred Scripture.

God’s peace...

COVID-19 Bible Study Reflection #14: Joyful Prophet

Many Christians, when they think of the Old Testament prophets, picture in their mind’s eye odd-looking men roaming the Holy Land and telling the Jews to straighten up and fly right or lots of very nasty things will happen to them. Yes, it’s all doom and gloom, fire and brimstone, sack cloth and ashes. To be honest, sometimes that’s exactly what the prophets did, because among their many roles was their call to be the moral conscience of the people. To fulfill that role, they acted as guides along the path to salvation calling God’s people to repentance and to moral and religious change.

But the prophets weren’t just the bearers of bad tidings. They had another role. More often than not, they were God’s messengers, His visionaries. They were the proclaimers of the Good News. I suppose we could call them the first proclaimers, the ones sent by God to tell His people that something wonderful, someone wonderful, was coming.

These prophets, then, so often depicted as fierce, angry men, were actually among the most joyful men of the Old Testament. God, you see, had given them a glimpse, a vision of what was to come, a vision that filled them with expectant joy. Any sadness they experienced was most often the result of the people’s refusal to listen.

The other evening, as I prayed for the soul of a friend who had just died, I turned to the Office for the Dead, part of the Church’s Liturgy of the Hours. One of the optional hymns included in this Office is the thirteenth-century hymn, “Dies Irae.” As an altar boy back in the pre-Vatican II days, I often heard the Latin version of this hymn chanted as a sequence during Requiem Masses. Quite beautiful, especially in Gregorian Chant, it's far too long to include here in its entirety, so I’ll just provide a link to it – Dies Irae. You can read it at your leisure, in ether Latin or an English translation. If you’d like to hear the hymn in Gregorian Chant, click here.

Dies Irae is best translated as “The Day of Wrath.” As you might imagine, it’s all about the Final Judgment, the “day of the Lord.” The hymn was inspired by the opening verses of the Book of Zephaniah. The prophet begins with this proclamation of God’s Word:

“I will utterly sweep away everything from the face of the earth,” says the Lord [Zeph 1:2].

…and concludes with:

“A day of wrath is that day, a day of distress and anguish, and day of ruin and devastation, a day of darkness and gloom, a day of clouds and thick darkness…” [Zeph 1:15].

These two verses, and the 12 verses that fall between them, are not what we would normally consider a cheerful message, but cheer was not Zephaniah’s intention. Indeed, in the first two chapters of his brief book of prophecy, Zephaniah chastises the people for turning away from the one, true God and embracing false and foreign gods. He goes on to depict a future dark and grim, a time of punishment, a day of judgment. Most scholars believe Zephaniah wrote these words early in the reign of King Josiah (640-609 B.C.) when Assyrian influence was greatest, and years before Josiah instituted his religious reforms. From the text, however, it’s obvious that Zephaniah’s prophecy of judgment applies not only to Israel and Judah, but to all nations.

Note: Interestingly, to my knowledge – and I may well be wrong – Zephaniah is one of the few Old Testament books to which there are no direct New Testament references.

The prophets, however, are not all darkness, and Zephaniah is no exception. In chapter three he completes his prophetic proclamation with a joyful description of the future God has planned for His people. We actually hear part of it in the first reading of Advent’s Gaudete [Rejoice!] Sunday (Year C):

“Shout for joy, daughter Zion! Sing joyfully, Israel! Be glad and exult with all your heart, daughter Jerusalem! The Lord has removed the judgment against you, he has turned away your enemies; the King of Israel, the Lord, is in your midst, you have no further misfortune to fear. On that day, it shall be said to Jerusalem: Do not fear, Zion, do not be discouraged! The Lord, your God, is in your midst, a mighty Savior, Who will rejoice over you with gladness, and renew you in his love, Who will sing joyfully because of you, as on festival days” [Zeph 3:14-18a].

It’s a future that appears to be centered on one event, on an arrival: “The Lord, your God, is in your midst, a mighty Savior.” The prophet, though, was also called to prepare God’s people for this arrival; therefore, he prefaced his revelation by telling God’s people how they are to receive their Savior:

“…I will leave as a remnant in your midst a people humble and lowly, who shall take refuge in the name of the Lord” [Zeph 3:12].

A remnant, humble and lowly? Is Zephaniah speaking to the Jewish people of his own day? Or are his words instead aimed at those who later will be carried off into exile after the fall of Jerusalem, only to return as a “remnant”? Perhaps the Spirit is using Zephaniah’s words to address the Jews of Jesus’ time, the time of salvation. Or is he addressing us, we who have received a mighty Savior in our midst and who continue to receive Him in His Eucharistic Presence? Indeed, there is an evident liturgical presence in Zephaniah as the prophet proclaims the renewal of communion between God and His people.

I think we can answer each of these questions with one word: Yes! After all, the words of Zephaniah are the Word of God, inspired by the Holy Spirit and given to the chosen people and to the Church for the salvation of all God’s people. In that sense, they are as timeless as all of Sacred Scripture.

Zephaniah revealed that God would leave a “remnant” in the midst of the world. But what about that remnant? It that another way of describing those to whom God will grant His salvation? Is “remnant” simply another word for us, the Church? Or does it include only some within the Church? What about all those others -- other Christians, Jews, Muslims, Hindus, Buddhists, and so many others? Who’s included and who’s excluded? Or do such questions completely miss what God is telling us?

Perhaps we spend far too much time asking questions. Perhaps this remnant is exactly what the prophet says it is: “a people humble and lowly, who shall take refuge in the name of the Lord.” God so often takes the weak and powerless, and through them does wondrous things.

In the last days, then, is this remnant of humble, lowly ones called to prepare the way for the Lord’s return? Are they called to be the evangelists of the last days? The Church’s response is an emphatic “Yes!” Indeed, for 2,000 years the Church has taught that we are in “the last days,” which began with the Incarnation. St. Peter actually preached this on that first Pentecost Sunday by quoting the Prophet Joel:

“It will come to pass in the last days,” God says, “that I will pour out a portion of my spirit upon all flesh. Your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, your young men shall see visions, your old men shall dream dreams” [Acts 2:17],

If we accept this, if we believe God is calling us to join His holy remnant in preparation for His ultimate return, it makes sense, then, to try to understand what God desires of us.

God’s Word, though, particularly His expectations, can be a bit scary, especially when we place them alongside the reality of our lives. Do you remember the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit [Is 11:2-3]? Remember the last of these seven gifts? That’s right: Fear of the Lord. I’ve often thought this remarkable gift describes my partial comprehension of the vast difference between God and me, an awe-inspiring difference that cannot but inspire deep humility as well. Once again, how did Zephaniah put it? “…a people humble and lowly…”

The world, of course, rejects this. To be lowly today is to be a loser, a loser in a society where anyone who’s anyone strives to be a winner. Fame and fortune beckon and the lowly will be left behind. Have you ever noticed that those worldly winners always define themselves by their work, by how they make their living, not by how they live?

This becomes evident when you attend a get together of people you’ve never met, say a cocktail party. Among the first questions people ask is, “What do you do?” Of course, here in The Villages it’s usually, “What did you do?” Anyway, just to create a little confusion, I sometimes answer with: “I struggle to be humble in the presence of God and man, usually with little success, and I try to work out my salvation with ‘fear and trembling.’ How about you?” [See Phil 2:12]

As you might imagine, the responses vary.

Yes, humility’s not something we see a lot of these days. As my father used to say, only partially in jest: “Humility’s a strange commodity. Once you know you have it, you just lost it.”

But what about Zephaniah? What else does he tell us? How are we to receive the Lord? Foreshadowing Jesus, who told His disciples time and again not to be afraid, Zephaniah tells us the same thing. Here again are his words:

"Do not fear...The Lord...will rejoice over you with gladness and renew you in His love...will sing joyfully because of you" [Zeph 3:16-17].

What a marvelous image: God rejoicing over us with gladness and singing joyfully. What a wonderful encapsulation of the Good News of Jesus Christ, all uttered by this Old Testament prophet centuries before that first Christmas in Bethlehem. Dear Zephaniah, who was not only a prophet but also a prince of the royal house of Judah, tells us clearly that we are to welcome the Lord and receive him with humility and without fear.

But that’s not all. He tells us one more thing: to “Shout for joy!” That’s right…we are to “Sing joyfully…be glad and exult with all your heart.” This, the prophet reveals, is what waiting for the Lord, is all about. We are to greet the Lord with joy, with so much joy that our hearts are ready to burst.

Several years ago, on our way up north to spend Christmas with our family, Diane and I stopped by Jacksonville to see dear old friends, a retired admiral and his wife, Scott and Marnie. I had flown with Scott back in our Navy days, but now he was dying of cancer and we wanted to see him once more.

That day as we ate lunch together, Scott’s drawn face suddenly filled with peace. He smiled and said, “You know, Dana, I’m so looking forward to seeing our Lord, I can hardly stand it. Isn’t that weird?” Scott died exactly one week later. And do you know something? That comment, made over a salad at a Longhorn restaurant, was a gift. Speaking with us several weeks later, Marnie said, “Scott saved me from a lot of grief because he was so joyful about the life to come.”

Yes, we are to welcome the Lord with joy, however and whenever He might come to us. And hundreds of years after Zephaniah proclaimed God’s Word to the world, St. Paul told us much the same thing. In his Letter to the Philippians, the Apostle tells them and us:

"Rejoice in the Lord always. I shall say again: rejoice!" [Phil 4:4]

…and then goes on to counsel against fear:

“The Lord is near. Have no anxiety at all” [Phil 4:5-6].

That’s right, fear not. And by putting aside this fear, Paul tells us:

“…the peace of God that surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus” [Phil 4:7].

I am reminded again of the words of my friend, Scott: “I’m so looking forward to seeing our Lord I can hardly stand it.” Here, indeed, is the peace of God that surpasses all understanding. This is the Good News, brothers and sisters. When God’s peace fills your heart, when you can look to the Lord with joy regardless of the circumstances, you know you’ve accepted the Good News in its fullness.

The Good News, the Gospel, never leaves anxiety or despair in its wake. Only the bad news does that, only the work of Satan brings fear and discord and conflict.

What, then, can we learn from all this?

First, there’s humility. True humility, though, comes from prayer, the struggle to comprehend God’s holiness, His complete “otherness,” and the vastness of His creation. Fortunately, we have Jesus as our perfect example. As St. Paul reminds us:

“…he emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, coming in human likeness; and found human in appearance, he humbled himself, becoming obedient to death, even death on a cross” [Phil 2:7-8].

Here we encounter a humility “that surpasses all understanding,” a humility founded on God’s great love for us. This is why Zephaniah and Paul and Jesus Himself tell us not to fear, because we are loved so greatly.

This then, and the gift of our redemption, will lead us to receive Him with joy. For joy, too, should be our natural response to the Good News, to every encounter we have with Jesus.

After all, aren’t you joyful when you hear that a loved one has been healed of a life-threatening illness, that he or she can once again experience life to the fullest? Well, that’s what the Gospel is. It’s the Good News that humanity has been healed, that God has given all of us the gift of life. But this spiritual healing is so much greater than any physical healing. And the life we receive from it? Well, it’s eternal life.

If that’s not a cause for joy, then nothing is.

Homily: 14th Sunday of Ordinary Time

Readings: Ezk 2:2-5; 2 Cor 12:7-10; Mk 6:1-6

Today’s readings are really about three groups of people: the Jews who rejected God’s Word preached to them by the prophet Ezekiel; the people of Nazareth, Jesus’ home town, who rejected God’s Word in the flesh; and lastly, us, the people of today. And perhaps not so obviously, these readings are also about evil.

Evil is a very strange commodity. Sometimes it’s so evident, so blatant, that you can actually feel its presence. Let me give you an example from my own experience.

In 1951, not long after the end of World War II, my family lived in Germany where my father was stationed. Instead of living in Army housing, he felt we should experience the local culture, and so we lived on the economy and went to local German schools. It was a remarkable experience for my brother and me. As a family we also took many short trips to different parts of the country, where I saw the unbelievable devastation that Hitler had brought to his own people, not to mention the rest of Europe.

On one of those trips we visited Dachau, one of the infamous death camps. There I saw first-hand the mass graves, the ovens, the tools of death, all the implements devised by men for only one purpose, to murder the innocents among them. Although it was over 60 years ago, I remember that day as though it were yesterday. The evil, the unbelievable cruelties that had taken place there only a few short years before, was so palpable, so real, I could literally feel it. Evil like that is hard to ignore, even though, at the time, many did just that.

But evil isn’t always so obvious. It often shows up looking clean and shiny, well-scrubbed and well dressed. It can look and sound very reasonable, always ready with a compliment, saying all the right things…and yet beneath the veneer, there is nothing, only misery and despair. Evil rationalizes itself with fine-sounding words and ultimately entraps those who fail to reject it.

As adults we can’t be forced to become ensnared by an evil power like in the horror movies…no, we set the trap ourselves. We make our own choices.

It’s not their sins that characterize those guilty of the greatest evils – for everyone is a sinner – rather it’s the persistence and consistency of their sins. It’s their willingness to choose evil over good, and to do so again and again. You see, the central defect of evil isn’t the sin itself, but the refusal to acknowledge it as sin.

We see this in today’s reading from Mark’s Gospel. Jesus has returned to his hometown of Nazareth, where He preaches in the local synagogue. Those who hear Him have to make a choice, a choice between good and evil…and they make the wrong choice. They reject goodness. Their choice, like so many of the choices we make, stemmed from pride. They simply couldn’t believe that one of their own, someone they had known all their lives, could be so special.

How did they put it? “Is He not the carpenter, the son of Mary…?” How could this common man, this laborer, this man to whom many of them were related…how could He have anything worthwhile to say?

Their rejection of Jesus followed directly from Jesus’ faith and commitment. It was easier for them – as it is for us – to be negative rather than positive. Easier to be destructive rather than creative. Easier, in short, to confuse good with evil.

Edmund Burke summed it up pretty well when he said, that “the only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.”

Like so many people today, the people of Nazareth didn’t want to hear the truth, especially when the truth hurt. For that’s what a prophet does: he speaks the truth. And all too often the truth reminds us of our failings and weaknesses. A prophet’s job is to upset people. His job is to challenge and rebuke people. His job is to demands that they change, that they do more than nothing. Jesus’ neighbors, listening to him in the synagogue, became like their ancestors to whom God had sent the prophet Ezekiel. With stern faces and hardened hearts, they rejected God’s prophet, they rejected God’s Word.

But this time it wasn’t God’s Word spoken by a prophet that they rejected. This time it was Jesus, the Word of God personified…Jesus, much more than a prophet… Jesus, the Son of God Himself, who stood in their midst. He is the Truth.

Had we been there, would you and I have rejected Him as well? Perhaps the better question is: do we reject Him today? The truth? Jesus is still with us. He speaks to us through His Word, read to us daily at Mass. He instructs us through the teachings of the Church. He feeds us with His precious Body and Blood in the Eucharist, entering into our very being, calling us to constant conversion through the “inexpressible groanings” of the Holy Spirit.

And yet, how often do we listen and act on what we hear? Do we fear the change Jesus demands of us and prefer instead to do nothing? Do we excuse ourselves from difficult teaching? Do we rationalize our acceptance of evil, because …well, these are complicated and controversial issues?

Pope John Paul II, one of the great prophets of our time, warned us frequently about the acceptance of a culture of death, the same kind of culture that resulted in a place like Dachau. And yet many of us choose to ignore the warnings.

The right to choose, we are told, is more important that the right to life. Yes, the right to choose death, the right to choose evil. Assisted suicide and euthanasia aren’t really all that bad. Yes, the culture tells us, these are quality of life issues. Capital punishment? Don’t listen to the Church. It’s a secular issue, a law and order issue. It has nothing to do with morality.

Ah, yes, evil can come to the table all dressed up, with fine manners, and sound so civilized, so very reasonable.

The culture condemns the homeless and despises those suffering from AIDS or enslaved by addictions. They brought it on themselves didn’t they? Why should we help them? The culture of death protests loudly when the Church addresses the ills and immorality of society.

It tells the Church that religious freedom is defined not by God but by the state. It tells the Church to keep its religion quiet. Stay out of the public square. Stay out of politics, it says. Stick to your prayers and your Masses. Stay inside the walls of your church.

They seem to believe we live in two worlds, one religious and one secular. What a bizarre notion!  No, brothers and sisters, we live in one world, God’s world. He created it, and He’s the One in charge, not us.

We have only two choices. We can accept Jesus Christ and His Truth, or we can reject Him. There is no middle ground, no seemingly safe place where we can straddle both sides and remain uncommitted.

A few moments ago, we joined together to sing the words of the psalmist, “Our eyes are fixed on the Lord.” This is one of the things that differentiates good from evil.

Are our eyes fixed on the Lord? Or like the people who rejected Ezekiel and Jesus are we fixed on other things?

Let’s pray today that, like Paul in today’s 2nd reading, we may find strength in our weakness. Pray for goodness, brothers and sisters. Pray that God will make us as courageous as Ezekiel to speak His word to our world, even when the world seems unwilling to listen.