TWENTY-SECOND SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME

28 AUGUST 2016

            The Gospel of Saint Luke contains many stories of Jesus reclining at table and sharing meals.  Sharing meals allowed him to share fellowship and satisfy the deepest hungers of people.  He had fed thousands of people with five loaves and two fish.  He shared meals with sinners, tax collectors, and prostitutes.  He would share one last meal with his disciples on the night before he died, giving himself to generations of followers in his real presence under the form of bread and wine.  Jesus considered meals to be sacred events.

            Today, Jesus dines at the home of one of the leading Pharisees, the “holy” people of his day.  The dinner occurs on a Sabbath, the week’s most sacred day set aside for worship of God and time for rest.  The Pharisee had invited a man suffering from dropsy, knowing that Jesus would certainly notice his very visible illness. Not only does Jesus notice the man, but, as Lord of the Sabbath, he heals the man and dismisses him.  He then turns to his hosts and asks what they would have done if a son or an ox had fallen into a cistern.  They are unable to answer his question.  They know that they would have acted, even on a Sabbath, and could not openly challenge Jesus healing one of the Father’s beloved children.

Because our Scripture skips that account, we pick up the story in today’s Gospel.  Instead of sharing a meal in fellowship and communion, they watch him to see what he will do next.  But, he turns the tables on them and watches what they are doing.  He notices that guests are scrambling to get the places of honor at the table.  They compete to assert their close relationship with the host and their importance to him.  Just as he had made a strong statement by healing the man suffering from dropsy, now he tells a strong parable about humility.  Those who grab the best places put themselves at risk when they try to bring honor to themselves.  In a culture of honor and shame, they are shamed when the host tells them to take the lowest place.  Instead, Jesus says, take the lowest place.  If there is an authentic relationship with the host, he will address them with the affectionate title of friend and invite them to a higher position.

Jesus does not confine this parable to those gathered at that meal in the home of the leading Pharisee.  He tells it to us, gathered for this Sacred Meal.  He reminds us that humility is one of the most important virtues in the spiritual life.  The word “humility” comes from the Latin word humus, which means earth.  The Lord has formed us from the clay of the earth.  Truly humble people understand that everything we are and have is a gift from God.  We do not have to build ourselves up for others to see or brag about any of our relationships or any of our accomplishments.  In learning to be truly humble, we make an ultimate act of faith and abandon ourselves to the will and care of God.  We do not deny our gifts.  Instead, we are grateful.

Jesus took the lowest place in taking on human flesh and shared meals with sinners, tax collectors, and prostitutes.  He reached out to the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind, knowing that they could never repay him.  Because he humbled himself, took the lowest place, and died on the cross, the Father raised him from the dead and seated him at the highest place.  He has invited us to this Sacred Meal, not because we can pay him back, but because he knows the ways each of us are poor, crippled, lame, and blind.  Once he feeds us at the table of his Word and the Table of the Eucharist, he challenges us to do the same.  Last Wednesday, a couple came to my rescue and did the work of hosting a meal for members of Parish Council and their families.  When I thanked them publicly, the woman blurted out:  “Don’t thank us.  We did this to be thanked in heaven!”  That should be true for all of us, as we hear the Lord speaking to us and as we are fed by the Lord’s Body and Blood at this Sacred Meal.

TWENTY-FIRST SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME (FEAST OF ST. PIUS X)

21 AUGUST 2016

          When someone asks Jesus the question of how many will be saved, this person asks the question as a descendent of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.  The questioner probably presumes that only children of Abraham will be saved, excluding all Gentiles, sinners, tax collectors, and others known as public sinners.  Jesus turns that expectation upside down.  He replies to the question on his way to Jerusalem.  Once he reaches Jerusalem, he will enter the “narrow gate” of betrayal, pain, and death on a cross.  He is already striving to enter that narrow gate by the choices he is making on the way.  Instead of bringing attention to himself, he proclaims the Kingdom of God.  Instead of doing what he wants, he pursues his Father’s will.  Instead of having people wait on him, he serves the needs of others.

            Jesus really does not answer that question of how many will be saved.  Instead, he challenges the presumption that belonging to the right group of people is enough to assure salvation.  He warns the assembled crowds that they cannot delay in making a decision to follow him through the narrow gate.  They must decide to follow him now.  Just being with him and listening to his words and eating and drinking in his company will not be enough.  Those who want to be saved must actively pursue the Kingdom of God and its values.  They must strive to know and do the Father’s will.  They must be humble servants.  They must know that striving to enter through the narrow gate involves embracing the cross of Christ on a daily basis.

            Jesus speaks these words to us today as we celebrate our patronal feast day.  We center our celebration of the Feast of Saint Pius at this Mass and all the Masses this weekend.  We do lots of fun things – like gambling, running races, and enjoying each other’s company at the picnic this afternoon.  We give thanks that God has formed us as living stones into a human temple, symbolized by the physical stones of our new church as it gradually takes shape.  But Jesus does not mince words in challenging us to actively strive to enter through the narrow gate.  We can never presume that we are at the head of the line knocking on the door to eternity.  We can never be arrogant and think that we are better than other parishes.  We always need to look for ways to grow into a more authentic faith.  We can always improve the ways we proclaim the Kingdom, pursue the Father’s will, or give ourselves in humble service, especially to the poor.

            Striving to enter the narrow gate involves carrying the cross of Jesus Christ on a daily basis.  That can be difficult and discouraging.  The Letter to the Hebrews compares the pain of carrying those crosses with the discipline given by parents to their children.  My father was very hard on me when I was growing up, and I did not like it.  But, as I began to mature, I also began to appreciate that he was forming me as his oldest son to be responsible.  That discipline did not stop with Ordination.  Bishop D’Arcy was always calling me to correct me for something.  I would return from vacation to hear him on my voice mail:  “Bill, this is Bishop D’Arcy.  I know you said not to leave a message, but I am your bishop.”  And then he would correct me for something I had said or done.  Later, I came to understand that he really cared for me as one of his sons.  He saw making me a Monsignor as a way of expressing that care.

            It is good for us to celebrate our annual Feast Day, and it is a great way to get started in the new school year.  The Lord wants everyone to be saved.  But, he does not force his love on us.  He loves us so much that he gives us the freedom to reject him.  He invites us to freely accept it and to continue to strive to enter the narrow door.  He wants us to strengthen our drooping hands and weak knees when the cross seems to bear us down.  He wants us to make straight paths for our feet, that what is lame may not be disjointed but healed.

TWENTIETH SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME

14 AUGUST 2016

          The author of the Letter to the Hebrews compares the life of a disciple of Jesus Christ to running a marathon.  Unlike sprinters, marathoners train for the long haul.  If you have ever run a marathon, or know someone who has, you understand he difficulties.  You know the physical pain, the spiritual stamina, and the determination to keep your eyes focused on the finish line. You also know the importance of crowds of people cheering you on, offering water and healthy snacks, and family and friends waiting at the finish line.  The Letter to the Hebrews points out that Jesus had taken on human flesh and has run that marathon, enduring a shameful death and crossing the finish line.  The saints form that great crowd of witnesses who had also run the race.  Not only do they cheer us on, but they also intercede for us and provide the support we need when we encounter the difficulties of running our marathon as disciples.

            Jesus does not mince words when he warns that there will be costs in our marathon of discipleship.  He speaks in the tradition of the prophets who were hated for speaking the truth.  The prophet Jeremiah preceded Jesus by 600 years and had spoken the truth in the name of God, telling the king that he should surrender to the Babylonian army.  Jeremiah had argued that the real cause of the sufferings of his people were the result of their infidelity to the Covenant.  However, the king regarded Jeremiah as a traitor and accused him of demoralizing the army and the citizens of Jerusalem.  So, he threw Jeremiah into a cistern, where he would have died if a foreigner had not become part of a cloud of witnesses to save his life.

            Jesus not only speaks the truth in the name of God.  He is the Incarnate Word of God.  As he makes his way on his marathon journey toward Jerusalem, he has been faithful to the mission which the Father had given him when his cousin John had baptized him in the Jordan River.  In speaking the truth about God’s Kingdom in both word and action, he has proclaimed a message of radical peace.  But in order for that peace to take root, whatever false peace of the culture remained had to be burned away.  Jesus knows that he will be betrayed in Jerusalem, that he will undergo horrible suffering, and that he will die in complete shame on the horrible tool which the Romans used for execution.  He also warns his followers that they too will be opposed if they ran the same marathon.  By the time Saint Luke had written this Gospel, many Christians were already experiencing the fire of division.  There were divisions in families, especially when disciples remained faithful to the marathon into which they had been baptized.

            The same is true for us.  If we are faithful to the authentic peace proclaimed by Jesus Christ in running our marathon of discipleship, we will sooner or later encounter the fire of division, especially if we have the courage to confront the false peace promised by our culture.  We will be burned if we proclaim that life is a precious gift of God to be respected from conception to natural death, because we will defy the false peace of our culture that individuals matter only when they can produce something.  If we insist on being honest and fair in business, we will be burned by competitors who see nothing wrong with cheating.  If we regard all our possessions as gifts from God that can be shared generously with those in need, then we will be burned by the consumerism that always looks for bargains instead of ways to be generous.

            In four months, we will sing Christmas Carols announcing the birth of the Prince of Peace.  On his marathon journey to Jerusalem, Jesus remains the Prince of Peace.  But he also teaches that embracing his authentic peace involves the burning away of false claims to peace.  He encourages us to endure that fire and keep our eyes on the finish line.  We can do it, because there is a huge crowd of witnesses cheering us on.