Monday, February 10, 2020

FRONT PORCHES

[1]I woke up this morning with a melody in my head.  I was familiar with the tune and knew it had something to do with front porches.  I struggled to find the words while the melody remained loudly in my mind.  This was a fun search while I was doing my morning routine and brewing the coffee.  However, when I attempted to settle down to practice my homily, the music would not leave my mind and started finding it troublesome.  As the music continued in my head, I asked God, “What are you doing to me?”  I finally got up to search the words hoping they would reveal God’s message.  The song was “If the world had a front porch” by Tracy Lawrence.  When I read the chorus I found God’s message. The song goes:

If the world had a front porch like we did back then
We’d still have our problems but we’d all be friends
Treating your neighbor like he’s your next of kin
Wouldn’t be gone with the wind
If the world had a front porch, like we did back then.

I remember those days of the front porch.  I learned a lot about family, neighbors, friends, the world and myself.  My identity was being formed on that front porch. into the man I became.

Identity is largely concerned with the question: “Who am I?” What does it mean to be who I am?  Identity relates to our basic values that dictate the choices we make (i.e. relationships, career).  These choices reflect who we are and what we value.  For example, we might assume an investment banker values money, while a college professor values education and helping students.  However, few people choose their identities.  Instead, we simply internalize the values of our parents or the dominant cultures (i.e. the pursuit of materialism, power, and appearance). Sadly, these values may not be aligned with one’s authentic self and create an unfulfilling life. 

In contrast, fulfilled people are able to live a life true to their values and pursue meaningful goals.  Lack of a coherent sense of identity will lead to uncertainty about who one is or what one does in life.[2]

In my own life experience, I joined the military two weeks after graduating from high school as a shy yet disciplined young man.  In Boot Camp I learned to be an American fighting man and live the Navy lifestyle.  In “A” school I learned a construction trade and what it means to live like a Navy Construction man.  Then I was turned loose on the world, as a Fighting Seabee.  For 11 years I “put on” and was encouraged in the identity of JoeSeabee.   Then it happened.   I rediscovered God with the help of my bride and children and some intense human relations training.  The combination of renewing my relationship with God and gaining a deeper understanding of the dignity of the human person opened my eyes to a Godly identity, my true identity.  For a long time, I was led to believe I was doing all the right things, in the eyes of the world around me, but I didn’t understand who I was, in the eyes of God.

Today’s first reading Isiah is reminding the Nation of Israel of their identity.  This reading is one of the great appeals for social justice in the Old Testament.  Israel has complained that much fasting on her part has met with no response from God.  In reply God explains the kind of ‘fast’ Israel needs to undertake: not one involving penitential ritual but a ‘fast’ from injustice.  

Refraining from indifference and violence towards the weak and a positive program of hospitality will cause Israel’s “light to shine like the dawn and her wound to be quickly healed over”. (Is 58:8) In a way, this retains remarkable relevance for all human societies of today.  This prophetic text insists that if a community gets social justice right, then all else will fall into place.

Jesus came, not to tell us what we could become — we can become this and become that — he was telling his disciples who they really are, their true identity.  “You are the salt of the earth”. (Mt 5:13) “You are the light for the world.” (Mt 5:14) The “you” is plural.  It might be more accurately translated with a southern accent as “y’all” are the salt and light of the world.  Meaning where ever y’all go and whatever y’all do, y’all are to be “salt” and “light” in your little corners of the world.

Living this identity of “salt” and “light” begins in the domestic church.  The home in the place of forming identities.  How do we respond to each other?  How do we respond to our neighbors, especially the challenging ones?  Something as simple as coming to church each Sunday reveals something of our identity, is it a chore, just an obligation to be met, or is it a joyful experience of worship and thanksgiving?  The people closest to us can sense, see and feel, the truth of our behaviors.  Some, may be pretty good actors in church, but when their pious acts are disconnected from deeds of compassion, their salt “is no longer good for anything,” (Mt 5:13) and their light, that was lit so brightly in worship, seems as if it was “then put it under a bushel basket.” (Mt 5:15)

Pope Benedict XVI on social justice says in Deus Caritas Est (God is Love).  “The unbreakable bond between love of God and love of neighbor is emphasized. One is so closely connected to the other that to say that we love God becomes a lie if we are closed to our neighbor or hate him altogether.  Saint John’s words should rather be interpreted to mean that love of neighbor is a path that leads to the encounter with God, and that closing our eyes to our neighbor also blinds us to God.” (#16)

Our parish communities offer many opportunities to be engaged in acts of feeding, sheltering, clothing and visiting those in need.  God’s command to us is to be engaged in both religious and social practices.  Together these make up our Catholic Christian identity, individually and collectively.  As we rapidly approach the Lenten season, can we find some space in our lives to let our light, that burns so brightly in our worship, become the visible sign of our identity of Christ’s love, by our compassionate service to others.
Treating your neighbor like he’s your next of kin can change the world.


[1] New American Bible, Saint Joseph Edition. © 1986.  Scriptures: Isaiah 58:7-10; 1 Corinthians 2:1-5; Matthew 5:13-16.
[2] Psychology Today, “Basics of Identity” by Shahram Heshmat Ph.D. Posted Dec 8, 2014.

Friday, February 7, 2020

OUR CORPORATE MEMORY

The beginning of the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy provides an overall goal and eight foundational principles for doing good liturgy.  “The Church earnestly desires that all the faithful be led to that full, conscious, and active participation in liturgical celebrations called for by the very nature of the liturgy.  Such participation by the Christian people as ‘a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s own people’ (1 Peter 2:9; see 2:4-5), is their right and duty by reason of their baptism”[1].  The liturgy is our Christian community’s corporate memory
.

Both readings today are memories.  Memories of boldness, beauty, forgiveness, courage, and proper worship of a faithful God.

The Book of Sirach’s meditation on David’s life is part of a lofty oration to some of the male heroes of ancient Israel’s past.  Its goal is to convince the young men, for whom Sirach is writing, that their people have a past of which they can rightly be proud.  Sirach’s praise is a remembering of the great deeds of King David, but especially focuses on David’s role in enhancing the worship of God through music.  David himself had composed melodies and ensured that musicians had a role to play in Israel’s worship, drawing upon the portrait of David painted by the Chronicler, who emphasized David’s contribution to the worship of God in the Jerusalem temple.[2]  We can see in our own Sunday liturgies the importance of good music.

The Gospel remembers how courageously John the Baptist spoke uncomfortable truths to very powerful people and how he pointed to Jesus as the “one to come.”  John was killed, and as sad as this is, we remember his bravery, honesty, and humility.  But mostly we remember that John points to Jesus as the Christ. 

Every time we gather in this church to celebrate the Eucharist, we remember.  Every Mass is a memorial of Jesus’ life, ministry, suffering, and death.  There can be no doubt the liturgical stories include sadness, challenges, pain, and suffering.  But the memory most treasured[3] is of the promise fulfilled, resurrection!


Liturgy done right, in all its beauty, points to Jesus’ passion, death and resurrection, it invites all to full, conscious, and active participation in our corporate memory through Word and Eucharist, so that we may cling to the hope in the promise of salvation for all.


[1] Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy paragraph 14.
[2] HomilyHelps, Exegesis of the First Reading by Leslie J. Hoppe, OFM.
[3] HomilyHelps, Homily Suggestion by Rev Steven R. Thoma, CR.

Wednesday, February 5, 2020

THE FEAR OF …


After the evening Mass that I serve last Sunday, I assumed my usual position at the back of the church to greet the people as they left.  There was one particular person who moved by slowly as if they were going to engage with a handshake, but they moved on with a bashful greeting.  I continued greeting parishioners when the person returned and told me they had just started going to Church after being away for over 30 years.  After I took the chance to welcome them back, they told me that they needed to go to Confession.  As I turned to go get a priest, they grabbed my arm and said, “Not now!  I’m afraid.”  Well this opened a wonderful conversation and invitation.

This person is not alone: According to a CARA Pew survey, 45% of Catholics do not participate in the Sacrament of Reconciliation; 30% have gone less than once a year; and only 2% participate once a month.

Maybe stories like those in our first reading fuel these fears.  David regrets the census he ordered, and confesses to the LORD: “I have sinned grievously in what I have done. But now, LORD, forgive the guilt of your servant, for I have been very foolish.” God sends the message, here’s your alternatives: 3 years of famine, 3 months being chased by enemies, or 3 days pestilence?" (2 Sm 24:10-13) We’d much rather reflect on the stories like St. Agatha who lived a virtuous life, committed to her vow of chastity and love for Jesus, resisting every temptation and even giving her life as a witness to her faith.

Perhaps the fear of confessing is what keeps many Catholics away from not just the confessional but from engaging with the community of faith.  Bishop Robert Morneau of the Diocese of Green Bay, says this to scared Catholics: “Come on in. You’ll like it!”

When discussing the weight and value of this practice, Bishop Morneau uses an analogy: “When we become physically ill, we seek the assistance of a doctor.  Failure to seek medical care can lead to death.  The same is true at the spiritual level.  Spiritual illness needs the healing touch of Christ that comes to us through this holy practice.”

He continues: “Seeing a doctor for a common cold probably isn’t essential.  Seeing a doctor for a bowel obstruction is essential.  The comparison could be applied to venial and mortal sins.”

Sin thwarts life.  Sin impairs our spiritual growth.  Individuals who seek growth and fullness of life have to deal with the ‘dark side.’  The Sacrament of Reconciliation is one way.  Seven words—so difficult to say but so cathartic when said—are the keys to true freedom: “Bless me, father, for I have sinned.”[1]


[1] FranciscanSpirit, My Phobia with the Sacrament of Reconciliation posted by Christopher Heffron on 12/27/2018.