OUR LORD JESUS CHRIST, KING OF THE UNIVERSE

25 NOVEMBER 2018

          When Jesus rode on a donkey into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday, the crowds welcomed him with great joy, waved palm branches, laid their cloaks on the ground, and hailed him as king of Israel.  In giving him that title, they expressed their belief that he was the Messiah promised to Israel.  They had remembered the victories won by King David, when he defeated their enemies and established Jerusalem as the city of peace.  In calling Jesus the king of Israel, they voiced their hopes that this son of David would save them from the Romans, the current foreign occupiers of the land given originally to Abraham. 

            A few days later, Jesus stands before the Roman governor, Pontius Pilate.  Pilate does not ask him if he is king of Israel. Instead, he asks him if he is king of the Jews.  He asks this question, because Jesus had threatened the religious authorities with his preaching, teaching, and miracles.  So, they bring him to Pilate and accuse him of trying to become a king to challenge the authority of Caesar, and his puppet King Herod.  Pilate has no understanding of the religious questions of the people he is oppressing in Caesar’s name.  All he cares about is keeping them from rebelling. Jesus becomes a threat, if he truly wants to be the king of the Jews.  

Jesus does not answer Pilate’s question.  However, their conversation reveals that Jesus Christ and Pontius Pilate inhabit very different kingdoms.  Pilate’s kingdom revolves around power, prestige, and wealth.  Pilate is interested in keeping this portion of the Roman Empire under Caesar’s control.  He is willing to use any means, including military force and execution, to maintain the status quo.  He is even willing to ignore the truth that this Galilean peasant is innocent of the charges brought against him.

            The kingdom of Jesus Christ revolves around love.  He knows the truth that this governor stands before the Son of God who was present at the creation of the world.  With true humility, he has emptied himself of the privileges of divinity and has spent the last three years revealing the truth about his nature.  His mission is not to defeat the power of the Romans at that time in history, but to defeat the power of the evil one for all ages.

Because of his cowardice and fear, Pontius Pilate condemns Jesus to die a painful death on the cross.  He mocks Jesus by placing above his cross the Latin words:  Jesus of Nazareth, king of the Jews.  Saint Catherine of Siena points out that as King, Jesus behaves like a true knight who perseveres in battle until his enemies are defeated.  His breastplate is made of Mary’s flesh that will bear the blows to make up for our wickedness.  The helmet on his head becomes the painful crown of thorns, driven into his brain.  The sword at his side will be the wound caused by the soldier’s lance, revealing the incredible love that he has for us.  The gloves on his hands and the spurs on his feet will be the scarlet wounds of his blood poured out for us.

Today is the last Sunday of this Liturgical Year.  Throughout this year we have reflected on the incredible love that the Word made flesh expressed by his miracles, the truth that he preached with his mouth, and the compassion and mercy shown to the suffering.  Now he will give himself totally out of love on the cross.  From his wounded side will flow the water of baptism and the blood representing the Eucharist.  Through baptism, we have become his Body, the Church.  Raised from the dead, he has fed us with the Eucharist.  Today, he stands before us and challenges us to make a choice.  As we begin another Liturgical Year next Sunday, which kingdom will we choose?  Will we choose the kingdom of Pontius Pilate and pursue privilege, wealth, power, and control?  Or will we choose the kingdom of Jesus Christ to live our baptismal promises to die to ourselves and trust that we will rise with Christ when he comes again in glory? 

THIRTY-THIRD SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME

18 NOVEMBER 2018

          Those who have children know their questions when they travel with the family by car.  It is the same question I asked my Dad when he drove the family to holidays at his parents’ home in Lebanon, Indiana:  “when we will get there?”  My Dad’s stock answer was always:  “it is just around the corner.”  When he retired and joined my brother’s family and me on a hiking trip, I got even with him.  He wanted to get to the end of the hike.  Hearing the same response from me, he was not amused!  Today, parents can use their GPS devices to give accurate information.  Since little children do not understand those terms, parents still say: “It is just around the corner.”

            In a sense, this is the response Jesus gives to his disciples.  He has already told them that the magnificent temple, which had been under restoration for 40 years, would be destroyed.  He is trying to prepare them for his own death, when the sun will be darkened.  He tells them that the world as we know it will pass away, and that he will come again in glory to gather his elect to himself.  Like children in their parents’ car, they want to know when these things will happen.  Because he himself does not know that time, and because his disciples cannot understand God’s time, he uses the same kind of apocalyptic language used in the Book of Daniel to say, “It is just around the corner.”

            Throughout this month of November, we have been praying for those whom God has harvested through death.  With the Solemnity of Christ the King next Sunday, we will come to the end this liturgical year.  So, naturally, with our prayers for our deceased loved ones and our focus on the end, we ask when the world as we know it will end.  Jesus gives the same response to us that he gave to his first disciples: “It is just around the corner.”

            He speaks this truth to us, not to make us anxious or to cause us to be consumed with worry about death.  He speaks this truth to reinforce our faith.  As the Letter to the Hebrews tells us, Jesus Christ has already made the perfect sacrifice on the cross to defeat the power of the enemy.  He has been raised from the dead and has ascended to the right hand of the Father.  We live in that time between his victory and his return in glory. 

            But, the enemy, the devil continues to prowl about the world seeking the ruin of our souls.  We live in this in-between time, when we are stretched between Christ’s victory and his return in glory.  The forces of sin and evil are very much in evidence, and we experience them in our own lives and in the images of war and terror from around the world.  Last year, I traveled with Margaret and Joseph Derbiszewski to Poland, where we visited the Nazi concentration and extermination camps of Auschwitz and Birkenau.  It was a stark and powerful reminder of the existence of sin and evil in our world.  But as moving as it was, we went to lunch afterward.  We did not smell the horrible smells or see the horrific sights of the camps when they were in operation.  The visit caused me to see the importance of confronting my own sins and the damage we do by the sinful choices we make that affect ourselves and others.

            In this in-between time, God remains in charge.  Knowing that our lives and the life of the world will come to an end, we can take great hope in the Lord’s presence, not only in the sacramental life of the Church, but also in our daily efforts to die to ourselves and turn more completely to Christ.  The Scriptures remind us of our mortality not to oppress us and make us fearful, but to encourage us to hope.  The Letter to the Hebrews makes one final point.  Having won the victory with his sacrifice on the cross, Jesus now is seated at the right hand of God and waits until his enemies are made his footstool.  That will happen when the Lord comes again.  For now, God is the parent driving the car.  Our destination is just around the corner. 

THIRTY-SECOND SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME

11 NOVEMBER 2018

          Widows in the Ancient Near East lived at the bottom of society.  Without any social safety net in a world where men earned their living, widows were extremely vulnerable.  This would have been especially true of the widow of Zarephath in the first reading.  Her situation was even worse, because she lived in an area where there had been a severe drought for years.

            Into her life walks Elijah.  The widow would regard him as the enemy.  He was the one who announced the drought as a punishment for the sins of King Ahab and his wife Jezebel.  Yet, the widow still offers him hospitality – a small cupful of water.  Amazingly, she trusts his word that his God would provide for her and her son when she makes a small cake out of the little oil and water that she has left.  She puts herself into the flow of God’s giving by giving the little she has.  God rewards her trust by providing food for her and her son for an entire year.

            Centuries later, Jesus encounters another widow in the Temple.  Like the widow of Zarephath, she too is at the bottom.  Jesus criticizes the learned theologians who are at the top.  They enjoy the benefits of their positions:  their long robes, their seats of honor in synagogues, and the best places at banquets.  They are the ones who serve as trustees for impoverished widows, keeping too much from their meager resources in payment for their services.  In sharp contrast, Jesus points out the poor widow who puts two small coins into the Temple treasury.  Unlike the large coins that would have made a lot of noise going down the trumpet shaped containers, her small coins would not have been noticed.  But Jesus notices her.  She gives of her substance, trusting the God will give back more than she could have given herself.

            These two widows have much to teach us as we advance in the spiritual life.  When we become too comfortable and accustomed to relying on our own resources, we tend to fill our lives with more stuff.  Those who have gone through twelve step programs know this truth.  It is only when they have hit rock bottom that they can begin to trust that God will provide what they need to confront their addictions.  Those who adopt the attitude of the widows can actually grow in trusting that God will provide.  That is why so many in our parish have embraced stewardship as a way of life.  Stewardship teaches the lessons that the widows already knew – that God gives back more than we give.  Good stewards set aside a first and generous time for personal prayer, especially the hour at Mass on Sunday when we give thanks to God for all God has given.  Good stewards set aside a first portion of their busy schedule to give time in humble service.  Good stewards sacrifice a first portion of their treasure, instead of tossing in whatever is left over.

            Jesus notices this widow in the Temple just days before he is stripped of everything and gives his life completely for us on the cross.  The widow points to what he will do.  He will contribute all that he has for our salvation.  His trust in the Father will be returned when he will be raised from the dead and share that resurrection with those who die with him.

            It takes a lot of courage to take those first steps in embracing stewardship as a way of life, because we fear that we will not have enough.  But those who have taken that first step begin to experience the reality that they receive much more back than they ever give.  As we pray for the courage to embrace the faith of those two widows, we also pray for our bishops, who will meet this week to confront the damage done by certain religious leaders of our time have used their positions to enrich themselves to the detriment of Christ’s Body, the Church.  We pray that they will have the courage to listen carefully to the promptings of the Holy Spirit to introduce reforms to the Church and healing to those who have been harmed.  Our prayer is based on the experience of the widows that God will always give back more than we can ever offer.

THIRTY-FIRST SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME

4 NOVEMBER 2018

          When the scribe asks Jesus about which is the greatest of the commandments, the question is much more difficult and complicated than we might think.  At the time, there were 614 Commandments just in the first five books of the Bible – the Torah.  And for each of these commands, scribes and teachers would develop ways to interpret each of the commandments.  For example, there were 39 different categories of work that must be avoided just on the third commandment to observe the Lord’s Day!  Despite these well intentioned efforts to help people follow the law, law-abiding Jews were crushed under the burden of laws and interpretations.

            Jesus responds by quoting from the Book of Deuteronomy:  you shall love the Lord your God with every fiber of your being.  This commandment is at the heart of both the Old and New Testaments.  If we love God, then God will come before anything else we might hope for:  power, wealth, success, security, comfort, prosperity, control, or prestige.  Then he quotes a second passage from the Book of Leviticus:  you shall love your neighbor as yourself.  Jesus so radically combines these two commandments that they cannot be separated.  We cannot love our neighbor if we do not love God.  We cannot love God if we do not love our neighbor.

            This love has little to do with emotions or warm feelings.  Jesus has already shown the depth of God’s love by taking on human flesh and identifying with us in every way except sin, as the Letter to the Hebrews insists.  In just a few days after this exchange with the scribe, he will demonstrate his love for neighbor by offering himself as a sacrifice on the cross.  This love has no limits, and this love cannot be defined by rules or laws.  We live the Great Commandment when we imitate the love of Jesus Christ – placing God above every other reality and giving ourselves in humble service to others.

            The Gospels also make it clear that Jesus defines the word “neighbor” in a much wider context than would the scribe.  A neighbor is not just someone in my clan or class or tribe or race.  A neighbor (as we learn from the parable of the Good Samaritan) is anyone we encounter who is in need.  We show our love in many diverse and challenging ways.

            That is why the Diocesan Office of the Propagation of the Faith assigns a mission preacher to each parish every year.  That office connects one mission from a struggling area to a parish in our Diocese, giving us a chance to share our resources with our neighbors.  Most mission speakers stand up here to present the needs of their missions.  This year, the office has allowed us to respond to the needs of someone we know very well.  Father Larry Kanyike has been to Saint Pius often to present the needs of his people.  Through our response, he has been able to build a health clinic, a new church, and most recently a new school.  Now he is asking for our help in furnishing a convent to house the sisters who teach in his school.  He emailed me last week, saying that the Archbishop of Kampala is celebrating Mass in his parish this Sunday to celebrate the tenth anniversary of the founding of his parish.  Remembering his hour-long homily at the dedication of the new church, I wonder how long he is talking today!

            The mission preachers in the past have asked us to trust their word about their needs.  I have been to Father Larry’s parish and have seen their needs myself.  Since his “day job” keeps him at his parish this weekend, I am asking for your help in his name.  The image of Saint Charles Lwanga, one of the Ugandan martyrs on our triumphant arch underscores our connection with Father Larry and his parish.  You will find pictures of the church and the school in today’s bulletin.  You can place your donation in one of the envelopes in the pew.  I can assure you that Father Larry puts our gifts at the service of his people, who are most grateful for our help.