SEEDS & A HOUSE

We’ve all heard the story of St. Francis of Assisi, who as a young man found himself wandering about the outskirts of his hometown of Assisi seeking a life direction.  There were breathtaking views of vistas at every turn, but he seemed to hardly notice.  Until he came upon San Damiano, a little church in need of a good bit of repair.  He entered and knelt down underneath that large wooden crucifix, painted in the Byzantine style of an icon.

The open eyes of Jesus on the cross seemed to lock him in a stare that was both intimidating and beckoning at the same time.  He couldn’t look away as feelings of doubt and fear, guilt and desire welled up within him.  “Lord, what do you want me to do?” he asked.  “Show me what you want me to do with my life.”

And the Lord answered!  A voice as clear as the day responded: “Francis, go and rebuild my church which, as you see, is falling down.”

Is it safe to assume we know the ancient parables reflect two levels of meaning: literal and figurative?  That their message is meant to challenge and convey an understanding of the realm of God.  Yet, wanting clarity, literal minds often resist this.  We feel the need to know the “correct” meaning of things.  Ambiguity is uncomfortable and challenging.

It took St. Francis some time to figure out the calling he heard to “rebuild my church” was not meant to be a literal meaning, to repair the physical structure, but something deeper, something beyond the walls of the physical church building.  Even David in his desire to build a house for God, receives the message, “Should you build me a house to dwell in?” (2 Sm 7:4)  I “will establish a house for you.” (2 Sm 7:11)

Let’s focus on the figurative language of today’s scriptures.  The seed represents the Word of God being sown by Jesus, which the apostles and disciples will continue to sow after Jesus’ mission and ministry draws to a close.  This Word is also not simply the teachings it is also the lives of those who embody the Gospel message.  The Word is a living Word, we who believe become the living Word.  Some people will receive it; others will not.  Some will have it snatched away before it takes root, while others will have it chocked off by worldly desires.[1]

When we spend time with the Word of God it has the ability to reveal to us that we are one with the sower, one with the seed.  Indeed, we are one with the harvest that ripens and flourishes at the hand of the divine Planter.  Our role is diverse.  We are called to be fertile soil, to allow that Word to thrive within us AND we must be healthy seeds, bringing the good news of God’s Word to wherever we are strewn.  Disciples of Christ are committed to lives that blossom and manifest God’s reign to all the world.[2]

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[1] Weekday HomilyHelps, Exegesis by Dr. Carol Dempsey, OP.

[2] Weekday HomilyHelps, Homily Suggestion by Cecilla A. Felix.

DIRTY PANES

A young couple moved into a new neighborhood.  The next morning, while they are eating breakfast, the young woman sees her neighbor hanging the wash outside.

    

"That laundry is not very clean," she said.  "She doesn’t know how to wash correctly.  Perhaps she needs better laundry soap."  Her husband looked on, but remained silent.

Every time her neighbor would hang her wash to dry, the young woman would make the same comments.  About one month later, the woman was surprised to see nice clean wash on the line and said to her husband: "Look honey, she has learned how to wash correctly.  I wonder who taught her this."

The husband said, "I got up early this morning and cleaned our windows."

Scripture gives us two stories where the clouded window panes in which, those in their perceived power, view others.  The giant Philistine, Goliath, when approaching David could only see a ruddy and handsome boy and he mocked David and the Israelites.  Even Saul is blinded by what he sees in the boy.  The anointed of God, is challenged to see and trust in David’s faith and trust in God’s saving power.  The Pharisees, clouded by how they see the Law, instead of responding to Jesus’ question concerning the healing, only seek an opportunity to accuse him for a violation of the Sabbath.  Jesus is outraged at the stubbornness he encounters in the synagogue.

Today we also reflect on another David-and-Goliath battle: no, I’m not talking about the impeachment hearings, I’m referring to the legal protection for unborn children.  Who is more vulnerable than a child in its mother’s womb?  These children face an unjust law and the clouded consciences of the public.  We seem unable to protect the right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness for defenseless unborn citizens, while at the same time maintaining the rights and dignity of women already born.  Today we pray in the name of the Lord.[1]

May the Lord show us how to let all unborn children in the womb win life while enlightening us further to know what we see when watching others depends on the purity of the window panes through which we look.   

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[1] Weekday HomilyHelps. Homily Suggestion by Rev. Paul J. Schmidt.

EVER GREEN

[1]The Cherokee Indians tell the story when the plants and trees were first made, the great Creator gave a gift to each species.  He first set up a contest to determine which gift would be most useful to whom.

He told them, “I want you to stay awake and keep watch over the earth for seven nights.”  The young trees and plants were so excited to be entrusted with such an important job that on the first night they found no difficulty in staying awake.  However, by the second night, it wasn’t so easy, and just before dawn, a few fell asleep.  On the third night, the trees and plants whispered among themselves in the wind, trying to keep from nodding off, but it was too much for some of them.  By the fourth night, even more fell asleep.

By the time the seventh night came, the only trees and plants still awake were the cedar, the pine, the spruce, the fir, the holly, and the laurel.  “What wonderful endurance you have,” exclaimed the Creator.  “You will be given the gift of remaining green forever.  You will be the guardians of the forest.  Even in the seemingly dead of winter, your brother and sister creatures will find life protected in your branches."  Ever since then, all the other trees and plants lose their leaves and sleep all winter while the evergreens stay awake.

This creation tale talks of greenness in the midst of barrenness… it speaks to light in times of winter darkness.  Today is a Sunday of transition.  Transition in nature, as we continue to move from the darkness of winter towards increasing amounts of daylight—and transition in the church, as we move from the Christmas Season into the beginning of Ordinary Time.  It’s a time when we move from celebrating the manifestation of God to celebrating the beginning of Christ’s ministry on earth, which started with a seemingly “ordinary” child.

We hear in Isaiah; it is in the eyes of the Lord we will be made a light to the nations so God’s salvation will reach the ends of the earth.  Yes us, not superheroes nor superstars, us, ordinary people, living ordinary lives.  Isaiah describes the mission of an unnamed Servant of the Lord, who appears as God’s obedient instrument in the restoration of the people of Israel.  Most likely, Isaiah intends the Servant to present an ideal: the person or people who truly serve God in response to the divine call, listening and responding despite the cost, empowered by God’s own “spirit”.[2]

In our transition to Ordinary Time we begin each year with the Gospel of John.  For where the Synoptic Gospels provide focus on the Kingdom of God, it is the Gospel of John that focuses on relationships—Christ’s relationship with God the Father and our relationship with Christ the Son, our relationship with each other and the world.  It’s only in John’s Gospel we hear the Baptist’s cry, “Behold, the Lamb of God.” (Jn 1:36) which we repeat at every Eucharistic liturgy.  

John has been baptizing at the river Jordan day in and day out, with faith the Holy Spirit will enlighten him to recognize the one who is coming.  For, up to that point, twice John says, “I didn’t know him,” (Jn 1:31 & 33) or in other words, "I didn’t see him" until the Spirit of God revealed him to me.  

How often have we looked and not seen Jesus in others?  Times when we didn’t feel connected, times of great difficulties, conflict, or loss when we’ve get blinded by our own suffering.  Times when we felt so ordinary and just not good enough and times, we don’t recognize the gifts God gave each one of us.

I found a quote, from a Presidential farewell address, that speaks so well of the power of ordinary people: “It was on these streets where I witnessed the power of faith, and the quiet dignity of working people in the face of struggle and loss.  This is where I learned that change only happens when ordinary people get involved, and they get engaged.”

Never under estimate, my brothers and sisters, just how beloved and special each one of you are in the eyes of our heavenly Father.  Never under estimate how the simple things in life can enliven another person.  A smile on the street, holding a door, not blocking an intersection at the traffic light or letting someone merge in heavy traffic.  We may never know how these ordinary acts of kindness will impact the rest of that persons day or life.

As we begin our transition from the Word to Eucharist where the priest will elevates the transformed elements exclaiming the very words of John, “Behold, the Lamb of God, behold him who takes away the sins of the world." (Jn 1:29) "Blessed are they who are called to the supper of the Lamb.”[3] And who are “they” called and invited to the Supper?  Remember the Christmas message, Jesus was sent for all God’s children, man and woman, Jew and Greek, free and slave, all are invited to this table of plenty.

For it is in the moment of elevation that we, as ordinary people, if we have the faith, can see and know the God’s face, that we are invited to approach and receiving the nourishment for a Servants mission, a mission empowering us with the courage to evangelize the Good News.  This sacred meal transitions ordinary people from darkness to light to be ever green to be for our brother and sister creatures to find life protected in our branches in our ordinary world.

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[1] New American Bible, Saint Joseph Edition. © 1986.  Scriptures: Isaiah 49:3-6; 1 Corinthians 1:1-3; John 1:29-34.

[2] Naked, and You Clothed Me, Editied by Deacon Jim Knipper © 2013. “Behold, the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world?” by Deacon Jim Knipper.

[3] The Roman Missal, Third Edition. USCCB © 2011.  Liturgical Training Publications, Chicago, IL.

HERE I AM LORD

Sung "Here I am Lord.  Is it I Lord?  I have heard you calling in the night.  I will go Lord, if You lead me.  I will hold your people in my heart." [1] 

In today’s Gospel, Jesus heals Peter’s mother-in-law.  Jesus touches her and she is immediately healed.  What does she do?  She waits on them.

The Greek word is diakonia. More accurately it means “service” or “minister”.  There is a big difference between waiting and serving/ministering.  Some jokingly say, Jesus healed her because he and the apostles needed someone to fix their dinner.  This raises the question:  What is more important—what we are healed from or what are we healed for?

I would contend it’s “what we are healed for.”

How does God intend to use our healing to help us to better serve or minister to his people? 

I had a conversation with my sister, as we sat in ICU where her husband laid in an induced coma, asking when we pray for healing, what does that look like or mean for people of faith?  Sometimes healing may not the best for us.  A blind priest, who was a wonderful confessor and counselor, was once asked if he prayed to have his sight restored.  He answered no.  He said that, while it would be wonderful to see again, he felt that sight would be a distraction in his ministry.  He had an inner vision that was a greater gift for his service to God and others. 

Have you been praying for healing: physical, mental, or relational?  What would you do if you were healed?  How would your life change?  How would your relationships change?  How would it help you to serve God better?

Both St. Ignatius of Loyola and St. Francis of Assisi grew closer to God and had life directives when they were recovering.  Once healed, they served the Church in mighty ways.  Some writers did their best work because illness kept them homebound.[2]

God continues to call each of us, even in the challenge of our illness or difficult situation.  Will we respond as the psalmist, Here I am Lord, I come to do your will.

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[1] “Here I Am, Lord” by Dan Schutte © 1981.

[2] WeekDay HomilyHelps, Homily Suggestion by Mary Lynne Rapien.

A THRESHOLD STORY

[1]Perhaps the most evocative word that Pope Frances has used to present the task of the Church is “door”.  The door, says Pope Francis, “must protect, of course, but not reject”; “the door must not be forced but on the contrary, one asks permission, because hospitality shines in the freedom of welcoming”; “the door is frequently opened, in order to see if there is someone waiting outside, perhaps without the courage nor, perhaps, the strength to knock.”[2] Baptism is a door that some of us were carried through, as an infant, by loving parents who desired us to have a relationship with God.  Some of us chose to walk through this door as an adult by the invitation, encouragement, or witness of a spouse or friend.  Either way our baptism becomes a threshold story in our Catholic Christian walk.

The story of Jesus’ baptism in the Jordan River is a threshold story.  It’s the doorway that precedes his forty-day journey into the desert, where he wrestles with demons.  It’s the doorway that initiates him into a depth journey and marks the beginning of his public ministry.  This is the first time we see the adult Jesus in Matthew’s gospel.  He has been readying himself, but first needs this ritual, in the river of his ancestors, where the Israelites generations before crossed into the Promised Land.[3] 

The Jewish people who asked John to baptize them were doing something very unusual.  Baptism was a ritual reserved for Gentiles who wished to be received into the Jewish faith; It was a penitential rite for people who had been believed to be shut out by God and wished to be accepted by him; Jews would see baptism as unnecessary for themselves as the chosen people.[4]

Baptism is an act of humility for Jesus, of bowing down to enter into and become one with the community.  He recognizes how this ritual ushers’ him into a new landscape of life.  Jesus surrenders himself, yields to John and to the path that is calling him.  He is not resigned, but active in his “yes” to this new path.  This kind of assent to a holy call requires courage, as such, his baptism became a sacred “yes”.  In being baptized, he would identify himself with the people who were renouncing sin and searching for God, and he would set out on his mission to save them.

What Jesus received from John was not the sacrament of Christian initiation, although it prefigures our baptism.  It was an acceptance of his call to mission, to fulfill the prophecy of Isaiah: “I, the Lord, have called you for the victory of justice … to open the eyes of the blind, … to bring out prisoners from confinement, and from the dungeon, those who live in darkness.” (Is 42:6-7)

When you and I were baptized, we to crossed over a threshold, not only were we adopted into the very life of God, but in our own way we too were called to mission, to go about doing good, to stand up for justice, to open the eyes of the blind, and to free people from all kinds of prisons.

Alas, over time, we forget, the newness of our baptism gets lost because we grew up in an environment not so engaged in our faith community; or we found ourselves walking through a demanding secular life devoid of strong Christian witnesses; or we just plain become cynical and jaded by the seeming hypocrisy of the institutional Church leadership.  This is why our traditions and liturgy have reminders each time we cross the threshold of the church doors.  We dip our fingers into the water of the baptismal font to remind us of our baptismal commitment.  We listen to these stories again and again to re-awaken our call to always begin anew our commitment to be active participants of Jesus’ mission.

There is a quiet kind of justice happening in the first reading.  The prophet says: “He will not cry or lift up his voice, or make it heard in the street.  …He will not grow faint or be crushed until he has established justice in the earth.” (Is 42:4) There is a steady patience, a commitment to continue on doing right even when hope seems feeble.  This is who we are as Catholic Christians, the commitment we are called to, the belief we profess in the Creed, and the “Amen” we acclaim as we receive our Lord’s very Body and Blood.  Believing we will be empowered by the Holy Spirit to go about doing good courageously in a world full of strife.

Contemplating the baptism of Jesus, how do we remember our own sharing of those threshold waters, which initiated us into a community and ushered us toward our own calling?  What have we forgotten, that needs to be reclaimed? 

As we cross the threshold into the Ordinary Time of the Church, may the graces of Christmas spur our re-commitment to live up to Jesus’ call to mission, believing the doors of heaven will be opened to us, after this our exile, longing to hear the Lord say of us, “This is my beloved son[/my beloved daughter], with whom I am well pleased.” (Mt 3:17)

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[1] New American Bible, Saint Joseph Edition © 1986.  Scriptures: Isaiah 42:1-4, 6-7; Acts 10:34-38; Matthew 3:13-17

[2] For I Was a Stranger, and You Welcomed Me, USCCB © 2017. Washington, DC

[3] Naked, and You Clothed Me, Edited by Deacon Jim Knipper © 2013.  “The heavens were opened to him.” By Christine Valters Paintner.

[4] Sundays With Jesus, by James DiGiacomo, SJ © 2007.

RADICAL LOVERS

These passages from 1 John must be read slowly and closely, even savored.  Hear the emotion of John, a beloved and aging pastor speaking to his community:

• “Beloved, if God so loved us, we also must love one another.” (1 Jn 4:11)

• “No one has ever seen God.  Yet, if we love one another, God remains in us, and his love is brought to perfection.” (1 Jn 4:12)

This is not easy in today’s world when you turn on the news to discover the shootings, hate crimes, and who’s lobbing missiles at who.

• “God is love” (1 Jn 4:16)

The author is trying to express the profound reality of God’s presence as manifested through the action of love of God and love of neighbor.[1]  It is said that John, in his elderly years, when asked for a profound teaching would repeat over and over, “Love one another my children love one another.”

St. Augustine once preached on 1 John 4:12 and it seems he had come to the same conclusion: “Once and for all, I give you this one short command: love, and do what you will. ... Let the root of love be in you: nothing can spring from it but good” (Sermon 110:8).

Augustine agrees with John that God’s love of us begets love in and through us so that we can be Christ in our world today.  “As he is, so are we.” (1 Jn 4:17) Living the life of Christ through the gift of the Spirit, we are not hobbled by fear, but, loving others as we are loved by Christ, we are a transforming presence in the world. 

However, we know our love isn’t perfect, any more than the disciples’ love was; they gave in to fear in that tiny boat being tossed about on the waves.  We give in to fear when we turn our eyes and our thoughts away from the homeless and hungry seeking money or food along busy highways; when we are silent in the face of overt racism; when we join in the cry to exclude those who are not “us”!  We are the Body of Christ, and we all are “us,” and so we keep on trying to perfect our love.

God’s remaining and abiding love is as good as it gets and it is available to all who are willing to accept it and put it into practice.

Jesus “meant to pass them by,” (Mk 7:48) but he didn’t—and he doesn’t pass us by.  We cannot be hard-hearted and not understand about the loaves, about the Bread of Life.  It journeys with us and banishes our fears so that we can be radical lovers. “Receive what you are and become what you receive,” Augustine told his neophytes when preaching about the Eucharist: Be as Christ in the world![2]

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[1] Weekday HomilyHelps, Exegesis by Eugene Hensell, OSB.

[2] Weekday HomilyHelps, Homily Suggestion by Leota Roesch.