Homily: Easter Sunday

Readings: Acts 10:34a, 37-43; Ps 118; Col 3:1-4; Jn 20:1-9
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Happy Easter! 

Yes, it is a happy day, but on that first Easter morning Mary Magdalene was anything but happy. What was going through her mind as she walked that path in the pre-dawn darkness? Did she and other women say anything, or did they walk silently in their grief as they made their way to the tomb? I expect they said little for they were going to the tomb of a dead man, weren't they?

Mary had seen Him die. She had seen Him hurriedly placed in the tomb on the eve of the Sabbath. Mary, the Apostles --  none of them -- had understood Jesus when He spoke of His Resurrection. After all, men don't rise from the dead.

Faced with the finality of Jesus' violent death, Mary's faith and her hope had all but disappeared. Only her love remained, and her love for Jesus carried her along the path to the tomb. But when they arrived, it was open and empty.

The shock of this experience was amplified just moments later. For John tells us that Mary first encountered two angels and then the Lord Himself.

It is the risen Jesus, in the flesh, that led Mary and the disciples to realize that death had not had the last word, for the Incarnate Word, Jesus Christ, had overcome death.

Faith and hope must have exploded in their hearts. Like St. Paul in today's second reading, the meaning of this glorious event became crystal clear: they too will be united with Him in the Resurrection.

And just as suddenly, all of His teachings, every word He uttered, took on new meaning. They knew now what He meant by the Kingdom of God, for it is in their very midst, catapulted into the here and now by the Resurrection.

Matthew, in his Gospel, tells us that Mary and the women left the tomb "fearful yet overjoyed" [Mt 28:8]. Fear and joy - a rare combination of emotions that I suspect exists only in the presence of God.

Oh, they were fearful, for they had just witnessed God's awesome power, and now understood that Jesus is the Messiah, the Redeemer, the Chosen One, the Son of God. 

And they were overjoyed, for He is risen! 

Overjoyed that their trust in Jesus had not been misplaced.

Overjoyed that they, and all of us, are objects of God's overwhelming love.

Overjoyed that the tiny kernel of faith, almost lost during the dark hours after the crucifixion, has blossomed into sure knowledge of redemption.

Yes, indeed, without the Resurrection, our faith would be meaningless.

An unbeliever, dismissing the Resurrection, once approached a priest and challenged him by saying:  "People who are dead don't rise to life again."

The priest merely replied, "I do believe that was exactly the point."

Listening to Peter preach in our first reading, we come to realize it is the fact of the Resurrection of Jesus, more than anything else, that brought those first Christians into the Church. And it is the Resurrection, this sign of hope, that still inspires people to embrace Christ and His Church.

This was beautifully manifested last night at the Easter Vigil when three people were baptized, three others received into the Church, and all six were confirmed. Here in our presence and in the presence of God, they openly declared their faith, accepted the Good News of Jesus Christ, and rejected all that is evil. In a few moments you and I will do the same as we renew our Baptismal promises.

And yet when I look out from this ambo, I don't see a lot of joy. It's Easter, folks! You should be filled with joy. Let me tell you a story that might make you smile.

Indeed, whenever I renew my Easter promises I'm reminded of the story of Seamus, who'd been working as a ditch digger in Dublin when a sudden cave-in pinned him, up to his neck, under tons of debris. The rescue party quickly concluded that any attempt to dig him out would only cause the walls to crumble upon him. Seamus was doomed.

When they explained the situation to him, he wisely asked for a priest. And so Fr. Flaherty arrived and asked, "Seamus, are you ready to confess?"

Seamus said, "Well, actually, Father, I've never really been baptized. You know, Protestant mother, Catholic father - they just never got around to it."

Father said, "Oh...well, that's okay, lad, but before I baptize you, first I'll have to ask you a few questions. Tell me, Seamus, do you believe in God the Father almighty, creator of heaven and earth?"

"Oh, yes, Father, with all me heart."

"And do you believe in Jesus Christ, His only Son, our Lord?"

"Oh, yes, most definitely, Father."

"And do you reject Satan and all his pomps and works?"

Dead silence.

"Seamus," the good priest said, "didn't you hear me? Do you reject Satan?"

Seamus looked up at him and said, "Father, don't you think this might be a bad time to be making enemies?"

Yes, it's a very old story but I think Seamus would be comfortable in today's world, a world where the good is seen as evil and the evil as good, a world where many believe God and Satan are mere figments of the imagination.

The result? Sadly, so many people today live in a state of moral and spiritual confusion, a state that leads only to despair. For them this fleeting life is all there is. They see nothing else.  They live their lives as if God, eternal life, heaven and hell are mere words. And so they focus all their efforts on the gratification of their immediate needs and wants, satisfactions that never last.

What does all this have to do with today, with our celebration of the Resurrection of Jesus?

Well, just about everything.

For today we come face-to-face with the Risen Christ, the very source of our faith and hope - the fuel for that Christian optimism that keeps us going even during the darkest moments of our lives.

Because Jesus lives!

Unlike Muhammad, or Buddha, or Moses or Socrates or Confucius, unlike any other, only Jesus lives.

Only with the living, risen Jesus can you and I have a personal relationship.

Only Jesus lives, His glorified Body displaying the wounds of His redemptive sacrificial act.

Only Jesus, the risen Jesus, can be greeted by those words of Thomas - My Lord and my God - words that define our Christian faith.

Only Jesus, the creative Word of God, can say, "Heaven and earth shall pass away, but my words shall not pass away."

Brothers and sisters, the Resurrection is the great event of human history, the culmination of God's ongoing act of love. Greater than the creation of the universe, which cost God nothing, the Resurrection cost God dearly. And for three days we've meditated on the cost God was willing to pay.

In love we were brought into being, and in an even greater act of sacrificial love we were redeemed by God Himself.

That's why, as Christians, we proclaim Jesus Christ.

We tell the world of Him who lives.

We turn to Him in our joy and in our sorrow.

We receive from Him the gift of faith that frees us from our fears.

We look to Him. We search for His face, and we find it, because He told us where to look. Where? In every person we meet. That's where we see Jesus; for He said to us: "...whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me" [Mt 28:40]

They and Jesus are one. We and Jesus are one.

Do you see what that means, brothers and sisters?

It's why St. Paul can say, "...I live, no longer I, but Christ lives in me" [Gal 2:20].

In everyone there is a vision of the risen Lord, and we, you and I, must minister to them.

For the very next person you meet, the person sitting next to you today, might be freed from despair, from the shadow of death, because you obeyed Jesus and ministered to him, because she saw Jesus in your face.

Or perhaps, in your need, in your own spiritual poverty, in your want of wisdom or hope or love, you may see Jesus' face in one who ministers to you.

This is the power of our risen Lord, Jesus Christ.

He walks with us on our journey, just as he walked with the disciples on the road to Emmaus. But He didn't leave them there on the road, did He?

No, He sat down with them. He took bread, blessed it, and broke it. He left them with the Eucharist, with food for the journey, a journey like no other.

We must never be like Seamus, up to his neck in the world's dirt, unsure of his destination.

For the Resurrection is a promise, a promise fulfilled through God's mercy and forgiveness.

If someone asks you where you're going, simply say: "I am going to a feast, with the rest of the Church. Where else should we go? It's Easter, the day of Resurrection."
Christ is risen, brothers and sisters!
All glory and power be His, through every age...forever and ever. Amen.

Video: Homily for Saturday, 3rd Week of Lent

The lovely Krysten, our parish IT genius, apparently discovered another recorded homily, one I preached at morning Mass a few weeks ago, on Saturday, 30 March 2019. She sent me the video file, so I uploaded it to YouTube and embedded it in this post (below). The text of this homily can be read here: Homily: Saturday, 3rd Week of Lent.

Notre Dame

Because I'm tasked with preparing our parish's liturgies, especially during the annual Triduum of Holy Thursday, Good Friday, and Easter Vigil, I've been more than a little snowed under lately. With lots of liturgy guides to prepare and a rehearsal to plan, there's much to do and little time to do it. I must also practice the Exsultet which I will chant at the start of our Easter Vigil Mass this Saturday evening. And in the midst of it all, I had to meet with my tax guy. I haven't received a refund in years, and have always owed the U.S. Treasury more than a few dollars. I believed it was better that I, rather than the government, be able to use what little money I had. But thanks to the recent tax cut, this year I will actually see a modest refund  What a pleasant surprise. My thanks to the president.

And so today, after completing most of these liturgical preparations, I had intended to post a few comments on current issues facing our nation. But then this afternoon Dear Diane told me of the fire that apparently is destroying Paris' Notre Dame Cathedral. Sitting here in my comfortable easy chair, I am filled with sorrow as I watch the flames consume virtually all of this magnificent structure that has graced God's earth for almost a millennium. 

The Cathedral of Notre Dame Ablaze

Let me share with you a personal irony of sorts. On the table next to my easy chair sits a stack of about a half-dozen books I am currently reading. I suspect Diane has always considered this unusual. My guess is she would prefer I read only one at a time thus eliminating this small pile of books that disturbs her sense of order and neatness. As for me, I find my reading of multiple books comforting, allowing me to adjust my reading to my state of mind. Sometimes I need good fiction, sometimes a little theology, and sometimes a dose of history, whatever... 

Anyway, among these few books on the end table is a delightful history written (and autographed) by Robert Gordon Anderson, and first published in 1944, the year of my birth. The book's title? The Biography of a Cathedral and, yes, it describes the construction of Notre Dame this iconic Gothic church, but more than that, it offers a wonderful history of Paris from the days of Julius Caesar to Saint Louis. I have already read 90% of the book, and tonight will turn sadly to those final pages.

I visited the cathedral twice, once in the summer of 1965, 54 years ago when I was a Naval Academy midshipman, and again 20 years later on a business trip in 1985. On this latter trip I took many photographs inside and outside the church -- all Kodachrome slides -- but the Kodak processor somehow managed to destroy many of the photos, leaving me with only a few dozen slides from the many rolls of film I had taken. But at least I have these few, even though most of them were also badly processed. In reparation, I thought Kodak should finance a return trip to Paris, but no, they decided an apology and five or six new rolls of film were sufficient. 

One of my few photos of Notre Dame (1985)

Like many of Europe's great cathedrals, Notre Dame is filled with magnificent works of art. On that first visit in July 1965, my 20-year-old predecessor was touched most deeply by a beautiful Medieval sculpture in wood. It depicts St. Thomas, the doubter, as he places his hand in the wound in the side of the risen Jesus. Gazing at the sculpture those many years ago, I could hear Thomas' words calling to us and echoing through the ages: "My Lord and my God." 

Thomas and the risen Jesus

The memory of this sculpture hit me today as I realized it had likely been destroyed. This was followed by the thought that Thomas might actually foreshadow today's Western Europe, a collection of nations that has largely rejected its Christian roots and lost its faith in a cloud of self-absorbed, fact-seeking, materialistic doubt. 

Perhaps by allowing the destruction of her cathedral, our Blessed Mother is giving Europe, and all of us, a not too subtle wake-up call that will lead many doubters back to the faith. Moment ago, I watched thousands of secular Parisians standing in the streets, tears flowing down their cheeks, as they witnessed the cathedral's destruction. I could only hope and pray that they would come to realize that the true cause of those tears is not the burning of a building, but the lost faith the destruction of that cathedral represents. How did St. Paul put it?

"We know that all things work for good for those who love God, who are called according to His purpose" [Rom 8:28].

Homily: Saturday, 4th Week of Lent

Readings: Jer 11:18-20; Ps 7; Jn 7:40-53
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"Never before has anyone spoken like this man" [Jn 7:46].

Hearing those words brought to mind someone I first met over 60 years ago. I think it was my first week of high school, and to get there I had to take a train for a few miles, and then a 6-mile bus ride with lots of stops. It took a while.

Bus - Westchester County NY

That morning, when I got on the bus, this kid sat down next to me. Like me I guess he was a little nervous, and so for a while neither of us said much, but he seemed kinda nerdy...not that I wasn't. He was an Italian kid from the tough town and I was an Irish kid who lived in a slightly ritzier town. I sized him up and decided we had little in common, and I should probably seek friendship elsewhere.

Then he told a joke, and another, and another, and had me crying with laughter all the way to school. Yes, indeed, I'd never heard anyone speak like that before. And you guessed it: we became lifelong friends. Today he lives in Jersey and we had another long phone call just a few nights ago.

Reading today's Gospel passage brought him to mind, and made me realize how wrong I can be when it comes to first impressions. And usually the error is rooted in me, not in the other. I had sized up my friend in a few minutes, pretty much all based on my personal biases. I suppose I was a little snob, but my friend, John, and many others have cured me of that fault.

I was like the Pharisees who, knowing little about Jesus, dismissed Him as a nobody; but a dangerous nobody, a threat to their own authority. Without having heard Jesus speak, without having heard His words, they rejected the Word of God. This, of course is exactly what Nicodemus tried to tell them.

"Does our law condemn a man before it first hears him and finds out what he is doing?" [Jn 7:51]

Nicodemus, too, was a Pharisee, but he had taken the time to seek out Jesus, to question Him, to listen to Him, to see if He spoke the truth. And it was to Nicodemus that Jesus first spoke those words of redemption:

"For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish but might have eternal life" [Jn 3:16].

Sadly, though, most of the Pharisees, like that younger me, were a bunch of snobs. You can almost hear them, can't you? This Jesus? He's from Galilee, a nobody from nowhere. How had the Apostle Nathaniel put it?

"Can anything good come from Nazareth?" [Jn 1:46] 

Even a soon to be Apostle can be a bit of a snob.

"Never before has anyone spoken like this man."

Isn't it interesting that so many of the people who encountered Jesus, even the Temple guards, who'd been sent to arrest Jesus, actually listened to Him, and realized they'd heard the truth?

"Never before has anyone spoken like this man."

What a remarkably courageous thing to say, knowing how much the chief priests and the Pharisees, despised Jesus.

What about us? Do we have the courage to speak out for our faith, to proclaim Jesus as Lord when He is under attack, as He is in our world today?

The world really hasn't changed all that much, has it? The Word of God causes division today just as it did in Jerusalem 2,000 years ago. 

The prophet Jeremiah encountered the same kind of division centuries earlier, when all the important folks plotted against him, just as their successors would plot against Jesus.

Remember how Simeon had revealed to Mary that Jesus would be "a sign that will be contradicted" [Lk 2:34]?

"a sign that will be contradicted"

And how many ignored Jesus, the sign God had sent, the sign of the Father's overwhelming love, and instead contradicted? 

Jesus' deeds both amazed and provoked, and His words affected all who heard that call to conversion: 

"Repent and believe in the Gospel" [Mk 1:15].

Some responded with hatred, some turned away unwilling to accept God's grace and the changes it demanded, but others underwent a fundamental, transformative change of heart. 

Brothers and sisters, Jesus never stops calling us to conversion: to repent and trust in His mercy; to love God with all our being; to love our neighbor as we love ourselves; to speak always as Jesus spoke, in the language of the Father's love.

As we move through these last days of Lent, you and I must listen and respond to that call. We have to choose because God never wants to force Himself on us. He simply looks on us with love and lets us make the choice [See Mk 10:21].

So today, let's all open our hearts to Jesus, and listen to the One who speaks as no one else has ever spoken. Let His Holy Spirit fill us with the humility and repentance God asks of us. 

Homily: Monday, 4th Week of Lent

Readings: Is 65:17-21; Ps 30; Jn 4:43-54

A few weeks ago, right after a Saturday morning Mass, we experienced a time of prayer and healing right here in our church. My wife, Diane, and I made up one of the many prayer teams that were available to pray with those who entered this church that morning in need of God's healing presence in their lives and in the lives of those they love.

Now I can't speak for the other teams, but I expect their experiences mirrored ours as we listened and prayed and shared God's overwhelming love, His forgiveness, His mercy. 

Of course many of those who were here that morning were experiencing deep suffering in their lives - physically, emotionally, spiritually - and they came humbly seeking God's help.

I'm always impressed by the extraordinary humility and faith of all who come to this healing service, driven by hope and willing to accept God's will. I'm impressed because their faith and humility are so much greater than my own, and it would be more fitting if the roles were reversed.

But there's something else. So many, despite their own suffering, come to us not just for themselves but for others. They come in prayer, in hope, in faith asking God to extend His healing presence to family, friends, neighbors, to those in need.

In today's Gospel passage we encounter another who comes to Jesus hoping for healing, not for himself but for his son. Probably an official of the court of Herod Antipas, he had traveled 20 miles from his home in Capernaum to find Jesus in Cana.

"Sir, come down before my child dies."

As John tells us, the official approached Jesus and  "asked him to come down and heal his son, who was near death" [Jn 4:47]. Did he assume that because he was an important official Jesus would simply drop everything and do as he asked? And did he think that Jesus had to make that trip in order to heal his son? If so he was in for a surprise, wasn't he?

Jesus actually seems a bit exasperated by it all, doesn't He? And He gives a rather sharp reply:

"Unless you people see signs and wonders, you will not believe" [Jn 4:48].

Was this rebuke directed solely at the official, or was it also aimed at the people of Galilee in general? Probably a little of both.

But the official accepts the rebuke. And humbled by Jesus' words, he doesn't allow himself to become discouraged. Moved by love for his son, he now pleads for help:

"Sir, come down before my child dies" [Jn 4:49].

Humility succeeds where arrogance had failed, and Jesus replies simply: 

"You may go; your son will live" [Jn 4:50].

Hearing these words, John tells us, the man now understands. He believed the Word of Jesus and departed on his journey home. But he had to be moved to faith, didn't he? His hope for his son's healing led him to Jesus, but it was the Word that brought him the gift of faith.

It's interesting, though, that on the way home, he meets his servants who tell him his son lives. He has been healed. That should have been enough for him, but perfect faith is never easy, is it? And so he asks exactly when his son recovered. The answer, of course, confirms the truth and as John tells us, with that "he himself believed, and all his household" [Jn 4:53].

Yes, sometimes God has to lead us to faith, one small step at a time, so we can request good things from God.

Jesus is present here today just as He was 2,000 years ago in Galilee. And it is through His healing Presence in the Eucharist that we too share in the divine life.

Christ's Healing Eucharistic Presence

Perhaps, like the court official in the Gospel, we should measure ourselves against Jesus' rebuke. 

Do you and I need signs and wonders before we're willing to believe the Word of God?

Is our prayer filled with our own demands or do we turn to God in humility..."Thy Will be done..."?

Any child will be happy to tell you that we are surrounded by signs and wonders, all pointing to God's presence...just as he will tell you that God, like a loving parent, will take care of you.

We are so blessed, but so often we don't know it.

Homily (Video) 3rd Sunday of Lent (Year C)

I've embedded a video of my homily for the 3rd Sunday of Lent (Year C) which I preached on Sunday, March 24, 2019 at St. Vincent de Pail Parish, Wildwood, Florida.

The text of the homily was already posted; and if you'd rather just read it, click here.

Homily: Solemnity of the Annunciation of the Lord

Readings: Is 7:10-14; 8:10; Ps 40; Heb 10:4-10; Lk 1:26-38

It's especially fitting today, in the midst of Lent, that we should celebrate this wonderful Marian solemnity, the Annunciation of the Lord.

"Mary, full of grace" [Lk 1:28] the angel exclaimed, and that's exactly what he meant. Mary is literally full of God's grace, so full there's no room for any sin within her. And how could it be otherwise? For God incarnate must enter the world via a spotless vessel, born of woman but a woman without sin.

"Hail, Mary, full of grace..."

Here Mary reminds us how to celebrate Lent. She's the perfect Lenten figure because on this day she anticipates the Paschal Mystery. Without her fiat, without her declaration of faith, without the word of Mary, the Word of God could not be Emmanuel, God with us.

What did the angel tell her? 

"You shall conceive and bear a son...the Son of the Most High" [Lk 1:31-32].

And Mary agreed: 

"Let it be done to me according to your word" [Lk 1:38].

With this, Jesus is not simply in her thoughts and hopes, in her prayers and yearnings. He is in her flesh. His flesh is her flesh. Hers is His. She waits only to see His face and offer Him to the world. She knows she is blessed, for she told us...

"...He has looked with favor on his lowly servant. From this day all generations will call me blessed: the Almighty has done great things for me, and holy is his Name" [Lk 1:48-49].

Words we too should pray every day, because God has done great things for us well. He has given us His Son, a Son who in complete humility takes on our flesh, redeems us through His passion and death, and defeats death through His Resurrection. Christ's redemption of the world requires the consent of Mary.

Brothers and sisters, we are created in and for love. Had God imposed His will on us, we couldn't share His divine life, which is freedom. If Jesus were incarnate Himself, without the free consent of Mary, it would not be true love. Through her love of Jesus, Mary is the first disciple, and the one who lived discipleship to the fullest. Jesus told us clearly what it means to be a disciple:

"Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother...the ones who listen to the word of God and act on it" [Mk 3:35; Lk 8:21]

The Visitation

This is Mary: she who hears God's word and acts. We see it throughout Luke's gospel. What does she do after the Annunciation? She visits her kinswoman, Elizabeth, who was with child. Elizabeth was old and needed the help of her young relative. Mary's first act as Jesus' mother is to carry him, not for herself, but for someone in need. No wonder that when Mary greeted Elizabeth, John the Baptist leaped for joy in Elizabeth's womb.

Mary, the perfect disciple, follows Jesus. She is blessed, not only because she bore God's Son, but also because she is the prime example of those who listen to the word of God and keep it. She follows Jesus all the way to the Cross, and beyond. She remains faithful even after her Son's death, listening to the Lord, joining the apostles in prayer, waiting for the coming of the Holy Spirit.

Just as Jesus came to Mary in poverty and human weakness, He comes to us today, not in glory, but in helplessness.

Just as He came to Mary as a powerless infant, Jesus comes to us in the hungry and thirsty, in the stranger, in the lonely, in the sick and dying, in the confused and troubled, in the addicted and the imprisoned. Again in her Magnificat she sings:

"He has scattered the proud in their conceit. He has cast down the mighty from their thrones, and has lifted up the lowly. He has filled the hungry with good things, and the rich he has sent away empty...for he has remembered his promise of mercy" [Lk 1:51-55]

The trouble is, today God chooses to feed the hungry not with miraculous manna from heaven, but through us. The hungers of humanity cry out to us: hunger for bread, hunger for justice, hunger for love, hunger for truth, hunger for God. The cry is more than a human cry; it is God's Word calling to us.

I can't tell you what God is calling you to do, for God works differently through each of us. But I can assure you He's not telling you to do nothing; for we are Jesus' disciples, in imitation of Mary, only if we listen to his word and act on it.

Lent, then, is a time for action. How did Jesus put it? 

"Repent and believe in the Gospel" [Mk 1:15].

This kind of discipleship is not without cost. "A sword shall pierce your heart," Mary was told - just as it must pierce the heart of every true disciple. But like Mary we can take comfort in God's presence within us. As Jesus told us, if we love Him and keep His word, His Father will love us and they will come and make their home with us.

Christ within us. Christ all around us. Christ leading us. We need only murmur with Mary, "Whatever you say, Lord," and then do it.

Homily: 3rd Sunday of Lent (Year C)

Readings:  Ex 3:1-8a, 13-15; Ps 103; 1 Cor 10:1-6, 10-12; Lk 13:1-9
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A priest friend, the retired pastor of a parish in midtown Manhattan, once told me that sometimes, after he'd heard confessions for several hours at a time, he didn't just get tired, he got bored.

"There's Nothing more boring," he said, "than hearing the same sins again and again, hour after hour." But then he added, "Fortunately, repentance doesn't bore God. He enjoys forgiving."

Long Confession Line

Hearing that I couldn't help but recall those words at the end of the book of Micah, the prophet:

"Who is a God like you, Who removes guilt and pardons sin...Who does not persist in anger forever, but instead delights in mercy"  [Mic 7:18].

God certainly delights in mercy and forgiveness. And that's a good thing, isn't it?

Jesus stressed this when He told the scribes and Pharisees: 

"I have not come to call the righteous to repentance but sinners" [Lk 5:32].

Well, if He came for sinners He must love to forgive. Indeed, God knows us far better than we know ourselves. He knows we all have our particular sins. He understands our weaknesses. Because we're naturally disappointed in ourselves, we're tempted to think: Hey, that little sin's really not so bad. It's a part of me; it's just the way I am.

I've even heard some people make the excuse that God made them this way. How can He expect anything better? Blaming our sinfulness on God! That's even worse than joining Eve [Gn 3:13] and Flip Wilson by saying, "The devil made me do it." 

(If you're under 55 you probably don't know who Flip Wilson was. Just Google him...)

But these rationalizations only weaken our sense of guilt and our fervor for repentance and change. They lead us to make false compromises with our weaknesses, and cause us to choose mediocrity over striving for the perfection God desires for us.

We can grow through our faults, but only if we don't settle for them, but instead learn to live always on God's forgiveness. Listen again to the psalm Dawn just sang:

"He pardons all your sins, heals all your ills. He redeems your life from destruction, crowns you with kindness and compassion" [Ps 103:3-4].

Yes, those are the fruits of repentance: forgiveness, kindness, and compassion. Forgiving, then, is no big thing for God. He delights in it, because forgiveness is the completion of love. Have you ever considered that?

In forgiveness, love reaches its greatest purity, its greatest depth.

In forgiveness, love is at its strongest.

In forgiveness, love, especially God's love, generates new life.

God delights in each of us. He rejoices over us and shows His love without inhibition. But so many see God as a kind of Almighty Umpire, focusing on punishment rather then forgiveness. Maybe that's why we cringe when Jesus relates the parable of the barren fig tree, especially when we hear those words "...cut it down"  [Lk 13:7].

Hard words...and so we try to convince ourselves that a loving God wouldn't deal with us so severely. It's about this time that guilt creeps in, especially in this season of Lent, this time of repentance. But guilt is just a warning and should never lead us to despair.

Yes, God will judge us, but He's also a forgiving God, a truth Jesus' disciples had yet to learn. Although they'd never played baseball, they too saw God as the Almighty Umpire. When an evil struck someone, they just assumed God had punished that person. This simply reflected what they'd been taught: If one lives a good life, good things happen, but if one leads a bad life, well, God will get him. It's amazing how many people, even many Christians, still think this way.

A few days ago, a parishioner asked me how God could reward a certain wealthy celebrity with so much money when he lived such an immoral life. I just suggested that God's attitude toward money and possessions is evident by the fact that it's spread around pretty randomly among both the faithful and the faithless. We'd be a lot better off if we focused on our own attitudes toward material things, and prayed for those blessed with wealth, that they use it well, for God's glory.

By adjusting our image of God to His reality, we can better understand how He wants us to live. This is exactly what Jesus does in our Gospel passage. He has to set the disciples straight. In the parable of the fig tree, Jesus readjusts the disciples' image of God and, if we listen carefully, He can help us do the same. 

"Leave it another year..."

The parable really doesn't focus on the vineyard owner's order to cut down the fig tree. No, Jesus highlights the three years of patience that preceded this decision. And the real emphasis is on the plea of the vinedresser: "Sir, leave it another year" [Lk 13:8]...one more year of hoeing and fertilizing, one more year of gentle care, one more chance...patience extended beyond reason.

This, then, is the key to the parable: that Jesus, Our Lord, is the patient gardener, the patient vinedresser. He's the worker who trusts our souls will blossom over time. He's the patient God who trusts in us even when we lose confidence in ourselves.

Yes, God is patient. What appears to the world as dried up and useless, He views differently. To Him we're always on the brink of producing fruit or brilliant blossoms.

But you and I...Well, if we're honest, we're probably more like the hardnosed vineyard owner. It doesn't take much for us to write off others when they don't seem to measure up to our self-defined Christian expectations. The truth is, we still harbor that childish notion of God wielding His figurative ax. But that's not the Father Jesus describes.

We're called to thank God for His patience, to thank God for a life measured by all those Lents where we ended up no better than when we started. God doesn't dwell on the past. He looks only at this Lent, calling us to a deeper relationship with Him. Jesus speaks to us as the vineyard dresser speaks to the vineyard owner.

God is patient with us because He has a plan for each of us; and he hopes we will accept His gift of grace so we can fulfill that plan. The question is: can we be patient with ourselves?

When we feel dry and lifeless...

When our lives seems to be spinning out of control...

When our relationships are marked by bitterness and strife...

When the death of a loved one drives home the fragility of life...

When our children seem to be slipping away from us and from God...

When all these things generate unanswered questions in our lives, that's when we need to trust in our God, our God who is patient and forgiving. Brothers and sisters, God wants nothing but good for us. What did He say to Moses on Mount Horeb?

"I have witnessed the affliction of my people...and have heard their cry...so I know well what they are suffering" [Ex 3:7].

"I have heard their cry..."

And yet, despite God's gift of freedom, the Israelites turned against Him again and again. But God, Who knew well their suffering, continued to extend His patience and forgiveness.

Jesus, too, knows how we suffer because He, too, suffered, and through that suffering, freed us from the slavery to sin. And so, when St. Paul tells us to be "Be imitators of God" [Eph 5:1], perhaps this Lent we should begin by imitating God's patience, by being patient with each other.

Can we treat each other with the same tenderness we see in Jesus...even when the wait takes every shred of patience, even when we're ready to shout, "Cut it down!"

To celebrate Lent well is to challenge ourselves by asking, "What's my image of God? Is He a cosmic umpire, or a patient loving Father? Whom shall I imitate?"

Our answer makes a huge difference.

Homily: Wednesday, 2nd Week of Lent

Readings: Jer 18:18-20; Ps 31; Mt 20:17-28
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Generals, politicians, business leaders, and yes, even cardinals and bishops…sometimes the great among us make the headlines for all the wrong reasons. 

Isn’t it sad when famous people fall prey to human failings, when they forget the real purpose of their lives and work, and become ruled by greed or pride or any of the other deadly sins?

Of course, it’s easy for you and me to shake our heads at those who get caught up in such things, and forget that we too are susceptible. Maybe our sins don’t make the headlines, but they still separate us from God; they’re still sins. And it’s nothing new. Just look at today’s readings.

The Prophet Jeremiah...Weeping

Prophets are like whistleblowers, always telling people things they don’t want to hear. And they tend to be treated like whistleblowers too. Jeremiah’s family had already turned against him, and now the religious and political authorities were plotting to do away with this troublesome man who constantly challenged their decisions and motives. And in our Gospel reading, the mother of James and John seeks to wrangle a promise out of Jesus:

“…that these sons of mine will sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your kingdom” [Mt 20:21].

Mother of James & John Pleads with Jesus

If Scripture tells us anything, it’s that God’s plans aren’t advanced by personal ambition. But as Christians what should be our attitude regarding those who do these things? Actually, Jeremiah tells us when he says an essential attitude for the disciple is prayer for the welfare of others. How did he put it?

“Heed me, O Lord...Remember that I stood before you to speak in their behalf, to turn away your wrath from them” [Jer 18:20].

Like Jeremiah, we’re called to seek their goodness, their repentance, their peace, their life. 

Hard to do, isn’t it? It goes against the grain of our human nature. Indeed, we can’t do it on our own. Jeremiah demonstrates this when he curses his enemies. He’s not proud of himself for doing so; he’s simply being honest and open before God, saying, in effect, “Here’s, how I feel, God. Help me.” By turning to God in prayer for others and for himself, Jeremiah demonstrates his belief in God’s plan for all his people.

And here we encounter another essential attitude of the disciple: to seek the Lord’s will in all things. As St. Paul reminds us, God’s will is revealed in... 

“God’s secret plan…the mysterious design which for ages was hidden in God, the Creator of all” [Eph 3:9].

Jesus demonstrates this when, deferring to the Father, He promises Mrs. Zebedee nothing regarding her sons.

Why does Matthew include this incident? To embarrass the Zebedee family? No, not at all. It’s there to remind us not to seek special status or to focus on our own needs and ambitions, while forgetting the needs of others.

Only through prayer can we keep in touch with God’s hopes for us and begin to sense the small part we are to play in “God’s secret plan.” Today’s Gospel passage begins and ends with an announcement of Jesus’ impending death:

“Just so, the Son of Man did not come to be served but to serve and to give his life...” [Mt 20:28].

Like Jesus, then, all the work we do in God’s vineyard is Godly and holy only when it raises others above ourselves and places them before God, whom we should thank and praise for all things. As the psalmist reminds us:

“Not to us, Lord, not to us, but to your name give glory” [Ps 115:1].