IT’S ABOUT RELATIONSHIPS

[1]In a settlement community the church was often established before any other institution. Though faith brought people together, social events were an important part of the church’s role, particularly in rural communities. Baptisms, weddings, and funerals were solemn occasions, but following the church service, the gathering of friends, family, and neighbors marked the event with food and conversation. The Church also provided important community services to the poor, ill, and needy.[2] It’s all about community identity and community relationships, with the Church at the center of the relationship.

The opening oracle of the Book of Haggai challenges the people of Jerusalem to delay no longer construction of a temple. Having just returned from the Babylonian exile, the peoples chief focus initially went to rebuilding their own homes. Yet, the community continued to struggle. The prophet tells them, if you want to see a change in your circumstances, first turn your attention to God, who is the source of all that is good. For what really matters is your witness to faith. Just as God delivered the people from oppression in Egypt, so now God continues to look after the welfare of the people.[3]

Which brings us to Yeshua Bar Yosef (Jesus) from the tiny nothing hamlet of Nazareth who is now being recognized as the long awaited promised one. The Christ, who asks, “Who do the crowds say that I am?” (Lk 9:18) and “Who do you say that I am?” (Lk 9:20)

Let’s reflect on the questions a bit differently. We believe Jesus is the Christ. We believe Him to be fully present: in the Eucharist, in the Word proclaimed, in the presiding priest, and in the people gathered. We know we are the Church! We are many parts, but one body in the one Spirit. Right!? We know we are called to be the visible body of Christ the servant in the world. Agreed?! So, the question becomes:

Who do the crowds say that we are? We’ve seen the news reports, the social media posts, and I’m sure we’ve all experienced “moments” when friends, acquaintances, or others discover we identify as Catholic, many times their disposition towards us changes, even become challenging. Which motivates me to ask the important question, who do you say that we are?

Our Catholic identity is rooted in relationships. Relationship by first and foremost with God, who is the source of all that is good. Not just by our attendance at Mass or our regular rote prayers, but by engaging him in the silence of heart felt prayer that cultivates an intimate knowledge of God and self. Relationship with each other as a family of faith. “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” (Jn 13:35) For when the Church is divided, the community is divided, the nation is divided, the world is divided. And relationship with the rest of the people of God in our community especially the poor, ill, and needy. For the way we love them, may be the only way they’ll be drawn into a relationship with Jesus, the Christ, who desires to be in relationship with us.

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[1] Scripture (NABRE), Ephesians 4:1-7, 11-13; Matthew 9:9-13

[2] Ndstudies.org. Lesson 3: Building Communities; Topic 3: Churches; Section 3: The Church as Social Center

[3] Weekday HomilyHelps. Exegesis by Rev. Timothy P. Schehr and Homily Suggestion by Timothy J. Cronin.

HOSPITAL FOR SINNERS

[1]“The church is not a museum of saints, but a hospital for sinners.” I can’t remember the first time I heard this phrase, but over the years I’ve heard it used in numerous homilies, in RCIA meetings, I’ve used it too, in marriage preparation and diaconate formation sessions. Even Pope Francis has said something very much like it, so I feel quite confident in the assertion that this place is a hospital for sinners. That’s why I’m here!

Pope Francis said, in an interview with a Jesuit magazine, “I see clearly that the thing the Church needs most today is the ability to heal wounds and to warm the hearts of the faithful; it needs nearness, proximity. I see the Church as a field hospital after battle.”

What a beautiful image we could print on yard signs, put them on our front lawns,[2] and live this reality.

We know little about Matthew the man and apostle. Most information about him comes from today’s reading. We know that he was an outcast from the Jewish community who was known to pal around with other “sinners” in his line of work. He was considered to be “sick”. The cause of his illness is due to sin, especially greed. He placed self-interest and wealth before all else, and so, sick enough to merit a physician: Dr. Jesus, who made a house call.

In breaking bread with Matthew and other tax collectors, Jesus creates a huge scandal. Always popular among the social outcasts, Jesus was used to the ire of hyper-religious people because he preferred the company of sinners. Cultural norms and social status were of no concern to him. But the one sin Jesus had absolutely no patience for was self-righteousness.[3]

Our broken world needs a place to bring its spiritual injuries. We need an emergency room more than a courtroom. We want healing more than judgment. Pope Francis again says, “The confessional is not a torture chamber, but the place in which the Lord's mercy motivates us to do better.”

We, the Church, are a hospital for sinners. We are wounded healers inside, who are called to mission. A mission to invite other sinners to the table of plenty and introduce them to the Master Physician, who operates in this hospital for sinners.

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[1] Scripture (NABRE), Ephesians 4:1-7, 11-13; Matthew 9:9-13

[2] National Catholic Reporter. “The church should be a hospital for sinners” by Fr. Peter Daly, Sep 24, 2013.

[3] Weekday HomilyHelps. Homily Suggestion by Timothy J. Cronin.

COME TO THE FATHER

[1]Crying serves several useful purposes for a baby. It allows them to communicate their needs when they’re hungry, uncomfortable, or in trouble. Crying shuts out sights, sounds, and other sensations too intense for them. Crying helps them release tension.

As parents, we become in tuned to our baby’s cry. I have to admit, I’m not very good at this. I spent too much time away on deployments, but watching my wife and even my daughter, as she raises our grandchildren, it’s amazing how they get to know their child’s crying patterns. There ability to identify their specific needs by the cry. They know when they’re hungry or uncomfortable; tired or just plain fussy. There are times when nothing seems to console them.[2] My father had the amazing ability to calm a crying grandchild. He was a big man that easily intimidates adults, but with children, he was often a gentle giant in his response to a child’s cry; receptive and engaging, with a compassionate heart. It’s as if he was an inviting father who became a place of rest, a place of peace for the children.

Now when adults cry, it’s similar but different. When adults cry, and I’m talking more than the traditional tears, the cry often has its roots in an unmet need or desire; some form of confusion or division; maybe a wound or hurt we’ve suffered. An adult’s cry can manifest itself in more than tears of sorrow.

James is very forthright in his letter to the early Christians, writing, “Where jealousy and selfish ambition exist, there is disorder.” (Jas 3:16) Disordered attractions to things, position, status. This is a place where we can become so self-absorbed, so locked into one way of seeing and being, that we often lose the ability to listen, to the point we can become detached and almost unwilling to hear the cry of those who may have a valid point or are in need around us.

The book of Wisdom warns us that the wicked simply cannot leave the just alone, they must test them. This testing will manifest in engagements between people and groups, but it will also come in the form of internal passions, envy, and conflict. The evil one wants to draw us into a narrow focus, to be divided, whether on something I want, a prominent position, or just to be always right on the currently debated topic/situation. He will use what is a good cause and twist it to the point we will not listen, we don’t want to hear other perspective, nor support another’s good cause.  

We hear this played out in today’s gospel. Jesus is sharing, for the second time, what he must endure at the hands of man. He’s taken the Twelve away from the crowds, where there will be no distractions, to speak plainly to them. “The Son of Man will be handed over to men, be killed, and in three days will rise from the dead.” (Mk 9:31) Mark tells us the twelve did not understand what Jesus was saying, and they were afraid to ask him. Why? Why couldn’t they, wouldn’t they listen to or hear Jesus’ message? Have you ever been in a grocery store having a conversation with your spouse, only to turn around and found out they weren’t there anymore? Jesus must have felt like this. The twelve were there physically but they were lost in their own dreams, their own desires and visions, their own envy as they argued who was the greatest among themselves.

Now we can take this engagement in two ways. In our own passion and compassion for Jesus, because we know the end of the story, we might think something like this: “I can’t believe it! Jesus is telling them he is going to die and they’re arguing about who’s the greatest.” Or we could recognize it is only natural and human to desire to be the greatest, to get lost in the fantasy. We could approach it like Jesus did by asking the question, “What were you arguing about on the way, [guys]?” (Mk 9:33) This type of question can leave the funny pit in the stomach feeling that causes us to reevaluate what is going on around us.

In bringing the child into their midst, Jesus is helping to refocus the apostles on the bigger picture. It’s not about them, their position, their desires, their goals of what the Kingdom will be like when Jesus mounts his throne. It’s about seeing the invisible people in their midst; it’s about hearing the cry of the poor among them; it’s about being in service to others and invite everyone to come to the Father.

James wanted the baptized of his early Christian community to battle their inner cravings and passions, which were tearing apart his community, and just come to the Father.

We need to come to the Father. Bring all our passions, desires, dreams, and wounds. All the things that may be dividing us, the things that frustrate us about the other and leave them with the Father.  Leave the hurts and wounds, give your passions and dreams to Him, Mother Mary and the humble St. Joseph. Let them refashion your passions for the greater good of God’s Kingdom.

Similar to my father’s ability to calm and bring peace to a crying grandchild, our Heavenly Father has a way with us. He understands our different cries, our different needs. He has a preferential ear toward the cry of the poor, the poor in resources and the poor in spirit. Once we can rest in our Father’s presence, once we can abandon our will to His will, we are able to rest in a peace and presence that allows us to hear the cry of the poor all around us. And like a parent, we will be able to discern the needs of other and respond with the same compassion, mercy, and love that invites all to come to the Father.

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[1] New American Bible, Wisdom 2:12, 17-20; James 3:16-4:3; Mark 9:30-37

[2] Healthychildren.org “Responding to Your Baby’s Cries” posted 4/21/2021.