Monday, February 18, 2013

Preached yesterday, the First Sunday of Lent, at STK at St. Margaret Mary

Readings:    http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/021713.cfm

Audio:   https://sites.google.com/site/sktdeaconed/home/mp3/homily%2002.17.13.mp3?attredirects=0&d=1


 
                W  W  J  D  ? 

What    Would    Jesus    Do? 

Those bracelets with the initials WWJD were all the rage not all that long ago, and a simple google search on line reveals that even today you can buy T-shirts, keychains, buttons, bumper stickers and even a DVD that all ask the same question:  What    Would    Jesus    Do? 

            Ya know, I was never all that fond of that question, I’m not sure why, perhaps because it seems a bit presumptuous to me – like anyone can know for sure exactly what Jesus would do in a given situation.  For if there was one thing that Jesus consistently did, it was to surprise His disciples!  They could never guess what he would do next.  And they never did quite figure Him out.  At least not until after His death and resurrection.  Still, I think it is good on occasion that we, who profess Faith in Christ Jesus, ask ourselves the question:  What would Jesus Do?

            Today’s Gospel gives as clear a picture as we’re going to get of what Jesus would do in a particular situation.  In the face of the devil’s temptation, in a time of testing.  You see, this Jesus, who was fully divine, the Son of God, was also fully human.  A man.  A human being like you and me.  And subject to all the temptations and distractions of this world.  Temptations and distractions I am very familiar with.  As I’m sure are you.  Something we live with each day!

            We see Jesus all alone in the desert for 40 days, led there by the Spirit for the purpose of being tempted, Luke tells us.  And at the end of 40 days, when He is tired and famished and thirsty and weak, who comes along, but the devil?  To tempt Him three times.  At his weakest moment.  Perhaps with the very temptations that are Jesus’ weaknesses.  For doesn’t the devil somehow know, in you and me, exactly what our weaknesses are?   

The devil tempts Him with pleasure, represented by bread.  Tempts Him with earthly power and glory.  And finally the devil takes Him to the top of the temple and tells Him to challenge God, to tempt the Father!  “Throw yourself down,” the devil sneers, “and see if your Father will come to protect you, to keep you from dashing your foot against a stone.”  Here the devil is even quoting scripture - today’s Psalm 91.  Now.  What will Jesus do?

            Well it is said that the true test of a person’s character is to find out whether he or she will do the right thing even when no one’s watching.  So with nobody there other than His tempter, what is Our Lord’s response? 

            He is faithful.

            Jesus remains faithful to His Father.  Faithful to their relationship.  He rejects each of these temptations, each temptation being an opportunity for Him to glorify Himself, to place Himself above the Father.  He chooses to humble Himself.  By choosing to remain Faithful.

            For you and me, for whom temptation is a familiar thing, especially when we’re at our weakest, how do we answer the question - What would I do? 

Too often, I confess, I choose to not remain faithful.  To put myself first.  To give in to temptation.  To exclude God, forget about God.   Think back to Adam and Eve in the garden – they’ve blocked God out completely – God is absent when they give in to the devil’s temptation. 

And what is this called when you an I are not faithful to our relationship with the Lord?  It’s called sin.

            And that’s the real meaning of today’s Gospel, I think – keeping in relationship with God, keeping faithful to Him – clinging to Him, if you must.  And we must!

You see, as disciples of Jesus, you and I are called to be in a covenant relationship with God through Christ, and so we must strive to be faithful to Him throughout our lives, as was Our Blessed Lord.  For God our Father is always faithful to us!  He always loves us; we are called to always love Him back!

            Our first reading from Deuteronomy describes a grateful Israelite people celebrating their covenant with God, celebrating His faithfulness, giving of their first fruits in Thanksgiving to God.  Thankful that after 430 years in bondage in Egypt, God has set them free.  Thankful that after 40 years in the desert, even though they have been tempted and not remained faithful, God has remained faithful and has now led them into the promised land.  It’s a people who are, for the moment at least, faithful to their covenant with God.  But a people who will soon forget God’s faithfulness and stray from their covenant.  As do you and I, do we not?

            This time of lent is a time to examine ourselves – in what ways have I failed to remain faithful to God?  In what ways and in what areas of my life have I blocked God out of my life?  What rooms of my life are off limits, to God?  The pantry perhaps?  The computer room?  The TV room?  The bedroom?

            And how have I failed to remain faithful, not only in the things I’ve done, but in what I’ve failed to do?  Where I have failed to see God, in the immigrant, the elderly, the poor, the unborn?  Where have I failed to even look for Him in the world around me?

            You see, the Church in her wisdom gives us these forty days of lent to step back, to retreat if you will, to look at our lives, and become aware of all the ways in which we have not remained faithful.  And to repent and be healed, to return to relationship.   To repent, especially in the Sacrament of Reconciliation.  To be healed and return to relationship, especially at the table of the Lord, receiving the Most Blessed Sacrament, His Body and Blood.  To

            And it’s a time to realize that hard as we try, we do fail at times.  A time to pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off and keep at it.  The spiritual journey is not a smooth or even road – it’s a road with many turns and potholes and flat tires and even broken axles at times.

But, my sisters and brothers, the good news of the Gospel is this - we have Jesus Christ as our great mediator with the Father.  Despite our unfaithfulness, we have our One Lord, the One who did remain faithful, even to the cross!   Who provides for all of us who call upon his name, not only the great example of faithfulness, but the grace and strength and courage so that we may grow in faithfulness.  Who will, if we but call upon His name, set us free from our sin and help us to overcome temptation.

So that we may be ever more faithful in the face of life’s distractions and difficulties and temptations.   Faithful to God our Father.  Faithful to His Holy Spirit.  And faithful to Jesus Christ who is Lord for ever and ever.  Amen.

Wednesday, February 13, 2013

Preached this morning - Ash Wednesday - 6:30a and 8a at CTK

Today's readings:   http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/021313.cfm


            I went to Catholic grade school just after they stopped teaching the Baltimore Catechism.  Which I think is a shame for me because unlike my parents and older siblings even, I never had the chance to commit the Church’s catechism teaching to memory!  Luckily, the entire Baltimore Catechism can now be found with a simple google search on line for anyone who is interested.

            For those who can still remember their lessons in the Baltimore Catechism, they will probably recall the definition of sin:  actual sin, the catechism taught, was defined as “any willful thought, word, deed, or omission contrary to the law of God.”  Now that’s as good a definition as any, but it views sin only in terms of commandments that we are breaking, breaking the law of God.

            The current Catechism also speaks of sin as breaking God’s commandments, but it takes a much broader approach.  The current Catechism says that “Sin is an offense against God” and then it quotes today’s Psalm, Psalm 51 - “Against you, you alone, have I sinned, and done that which is evil in your sight.”  The catechism continues:  “Sin sets itself against God's love for us and turns our hearts away from it.” 

            It’s this view of sin, that sin sets itself against God’s love for us, that I encourage you to contemplate today as we begin this season of Lent.  For these forty days are a time in which we are called to repent of our sins and turn back to God, and as Christians we are called not only to repent of our sins but to grow and transcend our sinfulness, so it makes sense for us to spend some time contemplating exactly what is meant by sin. 

            Today’s first and second readings, it seems to me, really call us to view our sinfulness in terms of our relationship with God.  The reading from the prophet Joel calls us to “return to Him with our whole heart, rending our hearts, not our garments.”  Notice Joel doesn’t say “stop doing that” or “do more of this.”  He is calling us to relationship, to a renewed and deeper relationship with our creator.  We are called to examine not only what sins we have committed and be sorry for them, but to go deeper than that.  To recognize in our sinfulness where our relationship with God is torn or tattered or fraying at the edges.  To ponder what exactly is it about me and my relationship with the Lord that is at the root of my sins.  Why is it that I doubt God’s love for me, or I disregard it, or I forget about it completely, in my sinfulness?

            For at the heart of every one of our sins, you and I are in some way rejecting God, rejecting His love for us.  We tend to think of serious sin as severing our relationship with the Lord; but I wonder if serious sin is not the result, rather than the cause, of a damaged relationship with the Lord.  Of a relationship in which we take the Lord’s love for granted, or worse, where we think we can go it alone and don’t need to be concerned with the Lord.  A relationship where I put myself at the center of my life and everything revolves around me, rather than a relationship in which God is at the center.

            And while we tend to focus on our sins of commission, or at least I do, in this light, it’s much easier for us to see our sins of omission – not only what I have done, but also what I have failed to do.  In what ways have I failed to respond to God’s love for me by taking those close to me for granted?  In what ways have I forgotten God when I’ve forgotten the last and the least – when I have neglected the poor, the elderly, the homeless, the mentally ill?  In what ways have I rejected God’s love when I have failed to love?

            Thankfully, the Church gives us these six or so weeks to retreat, if you will, as Christ did to the desert, to step back and really ponder our lives.  This is a time in which we are called to be reconciled to the Lord – as Saint Paul urges in our second reading.  To step back and really work on our relationship with Christ.  But we must recognize that to do so, requires our time and our commitment.  It requires that we carve out a portion of each day, devoted to our spiritual growth, to growth in our relationship with the Lord.

            A time in which we may pray more frequently and more fervently.  By taking time to give alms of our resources and our time.  Through fasting and sacrifice, which help us to appreciate God’s gifts to us, without which we can’t help but to take God’s gifts to us for granted!  By spiritual reading, meditation, contemplation.  By participating more regularly in the sacraments, especially the Holy Eucharist and Sacrament of Reconciliation.

            Let us pray then that God will open our eyes and minds and hearts to see all the ways in which our relationship with Him needs mending.  And that He will give us the grace by which we may be healed and reconciled to Him.  So that, after our forty days in the desert, we may run with joy through the flowering garden to approach His empty tomb!

Thursday, February 7, 2013

Preached this morning - St. Kateri at Christ the King, 6:30a and 8

Today's readings:   http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/020713.cfm



            I’m afraid I’m too old to remember the first time my mom and dad let me drive the family car alone, after I got my drivers license, but I can recall that each time my three daughters asked for the car keys to make their “first solo flight,” I was filled with fear and trepidation.  After all, I had been the one who spent the most time teaching them to drive.  I had tried to remain patient each time they hit the curb parallel parking, and all the times I said “slow down you’re going too fast.”  But my fear was strong and I couldn’t help wondering - had I taught them well enough?  And now, some years late, this fear isn’t really any less whenever my girls get in the car to drive now hundreds of miles.

            I imagine that Jesus must have felt some fear and trepidation as well, sending out the apostles in these six groups of two, to go and preach repentance, drive out demons, anoint with oil and heal.  To go out without him there to watch and guide them.  “Have I taught them well enough?”  he must have thought to Himself.  But our Gospel tells us that He had – for they met with great success in their healing and preaching.

            This successful trial, if you will, is a foreshadowing of the great commission at the end of Mark’s Gospel, when Jesus sends the eleven out into the whole world to “go and proclaim the gospel to every creature.”  When He instructs them, “whoever believes and is baptized will be saved, but whoever does not believe will be condemned.”

            What we have here, in fact, is a foreshadowing of the Church!  For Jesus didn’t leave us alone to take up His mission and preach His word by ourselves.  And Jesus didn’t leave us a book to read either.  What Jesus left us was a Church – such as it was.  He entrusted to this ragtag group of apostles and disciples – sinful men and women each – to them he entrusted his word, his legacy and his entire mission! If you stop to think about that –you just have to laugh and wonder if the Lord lost his mind!!  John Eldredge says it well in this book I’m reading, Wild at Heart – Eldredge writes:

Have you thought about his handling of the Gospel?  God needs to get a message out to the human race, without which they will perish…forever.  What’s the plan?  First, he starts with the most unlikely group ever- a couple of prostitutes, a few fishermen, a tax collector.  Then he passes the ball to us.  Unbelievable!

            Did he lose his mind?  No, of course not.  He sent His Spirit!  And empowered by the Holy Spirit, made fearless by Christ’s spirit within them, this motley crew went forth to become the foundation of His Church, which has stood for 2,000 years.

            And just as the twelve were sent out in this Gospel, you and I are now entrusted with his word and sent forth to carry on his legacy, to live out his mission!  Think about that – you and I!  And no, the Lord has not lost His mind, for He is still with us – in the gift of His Body and Blood and He continues to send us His Holy Spirit to dwell in us, to give us together the power and strength and courage to go forth to be His living and healing presence in our world.

Monday, February 4, 2013

Preached Sunday, Feb. 3 - St. Kateri at Christ the King site

Mass readings:   http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/020313.cfm

Audio:     https://sites.google.com/site/sktdeaconed/home/mp3/homily%2002.03.13.mp3?attredirects=0&d=1



It was about fifteen years ago - my wife Pam and I were at a gathering of the couples and priests who present Marriage Encounter weekends.  She and I had just been asked to become a presenting team couple and we were being welcomed at a little get-together, a party of sorts, and it was there that she and I were asked to play a little game with today’s second reading from Corinthians.  One of the most well-known readings in all of scripture.  A reading proclaimed at virtually every Christian wedding.  So we were asked to play a little game with this reading and it went like this.  Pam was asked to read this passage, but every time the word “love” appeared, she had to substitute “Ed.”  Ed is patient.  Ed is kind.  Ed is not jealous.  Ed is not pompous…and so forth.

            Now the goal of this little game is to get all the way through the passage without laughing.  Problem is, I don’t think she got much past “Ed is kind” before she blurt out giggling.  As did I.  Why is that?  It’s because we both knew and could immediately recall all the times when Ed is not patient.  Ed is not kind.  When Ed is quick tempered.  You get the picture.

            Try that some time – see if you can read this passage substituting your own name each time the word “love” appears.  I don’t know about you, but for me, that’s not easy.  Ed is patient?  Ed is kind?  Not so much, I’m afraid.  Pam called me at work this week when I was in the middle of some task, and I was anything but patient and kind.  It was more like impatient and downright nasty!

            It seems to me that this passage, which sounds so sweet and wonderful and beautiful when proclaimed at a wedding, is tough as nails to really put into practice.  You see, this word “love” of which St. Paul speaks so eloquently, is not some sweet, flowery feeling like we tend to think.  This word “love” is an action word, an act of the will.  A decision made with the mind. 

            Who is naturally patient and kind?  Who is naturally not quick-tempered or naturally doesn’t seek his or her own interests?  Maybe you are, but I sure am not.  The spiritual journey is all about putting on these qualities, learning them as virtues, by making the decision to act, to behave, in a certain way.  Over time, hopefully, we become more patient.  More kind.  More humble.  But it’s always a decision.

            This is the kind of love St. Paul is speaking of in this famous passage.  It’s a self-giving love.  It’s a decision to always do what is best for the other.  For our spouse.  Children.  Family.  Friends.  It’s what we choose to do, especially when we don’t feel like doing that, especially when we feel like doing the exact opposite.   It’s the sort of love that Jesus showed all throughout His life, and most especially as he hung upon the Cross for you and me.

            And make no mistake - this sort of love is not just meant for your family and friends, co-workers and classmates.  No.  We as Christians are called to love the whole world around us with this same self-giving, self-emptying, intentional, love.  Especially the last and the least.  Do we love the poor?  The unborn?  The sick?  The immigrant?  Christ shows us the way, and He commands us to love as He did.

            In fact, this kind of love is what it means to be a Christian, a disciple of Christ – this love is what must happen if we say we have faith.  Just this week, Pope Benedict writes, “Faith precedes love, but faith is genuine only if crowned by love.  Everything begins from the humble acceptance of faith (‘knowing that one is loved by God’), but has to arrive at the truth of charity (‘knowing how to love God and neighbor’), which remains forever as the fulfillment of all the virtues.”

            And you know what?  this kind of love is counter-cultural!  Think about our culture – our world.  Love is patient?  This world is ever so impatient, and getting more so all the time.  I want it now - I won’t wait.  Love is kind?  Sure there are many kind people in the world, but the instances of unkindness are splashed across the daily pages of the newspaper.  Love is not self-seeking?  If there’s anything that our culture encourages, prizes, cherishes – it’s self-seeking.  Look out for number one.  Get ahead at any cost.  Yes, St. Paul paints a very different picture of the Christian life than we see in the world around us, different than the people of Corinth were seeing in the world and community around them.  Different than they were behaving.  I dare say different than we ourselves so often behave.

            But if we live this kind of love, this vision of St. Paul of what it means to live and love as a Christian, you and I will look and act and be very different than the community and world and culture around us.  And the culture and the world may not like us very much.  If we take care of the poor, if we stand up for the right to life of the unborn, if we truly care for the sick, if we work for the dignity of the immigrant and the migrant, we may face rejection and perhaps even fury.  Perhaps even from those close to us. 

            But that shouldn’t stop us.  We may fear doing what God is calling us to do because of other peoples’ expectations, or our environments and histories, we may feel consumed by what other people will think of us.  But we need to break out of our fears and expectations and freely do what God calls us to do no matter the consequences.  No matter the reaction of those around us.

            We will soon approach the altar of grace, where we will receive the very Body and Blood of Our Blessed Lord.  May His Body and Blood give us the strength, the courage, the grace to love as He loved.  And to go forth from here to be His loving presence.  In our families.  Our workplaces and schools.  Our communities.  Our world.  And to bring into the world the very presence of our Lord God, who is Father, Son and Holy Spirit.  Amen.

Preached Saturday Feb.2 - St. Kateri at Christ the King site

Mass readings:  http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/020313.cfm



A friend of mine wrote a beautiful and touching story which she posted on her web blog and on facebook the other day, much of which I won’t repeat this evening/morning but  I bring it up because the context for her story was her first-ever trip last week to Washington DC for the National March for Life.  Along with the youth group she leads.  She writes how she’s always considered herself to be “pro-life” but that she’s always kept this belief pretty much to herself.  She tells how she feared that the pro-life people she’d meet there would be radical, unfeeling zealots, as the news media so often tends to portray.  And how nervous she felt about making a public display of her private beliefs. 

            I bring this up today because by her public witness, by her example to these youths she traveled with, and then by her writing about it on the internet, my friend has taken on what can only be described as a prophetic voice.  A prophetic voice.  What is a prophet? 

            It’s not, as we might think, someone who predicts the future.  No, a prophet is one who speaks up and speaks out in the face of injustice and evil.  One who speaks the truth – who rejoices with the truth.  One who will not remain silent - refuses to remain silent.   One who stands up and tells all that God commands.  And that, I think, is the message of today’s Gospel.  Jesus announces to the local Synagogue that “no prophet is accepted in his own native place,” and indeed, by the end of this Gospel, his neighbors from Nazareth are ready to throw him down the hill and kill him! 

            All through His life, Our Lord speaks out prophetically, against the injustices of His time.  About the need to care for each other, especially the poor and the forgotten.  Against the hypocrisy of the Scribes and Pharisees.  Against the evil in men’s and women’s hearts.  And we know what that got him – we know how His earthly journey ended – hanging on the Cross!  So in a way, today’s Gospel is a foreshadowing of His passion and death, but Jesus didn’t let the danger He lived with stop Him from speaking out.   He continued to speak and teach and witness with a strong, true, prophetic voice.

            Well I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you and I are called in our baptism to be prophets, to speak with a prophetic voice.  As you and I were baptized, as we were anointed with the sacred oil of Chrism, the priest or deacon proclaimed the following words “As Christ was anointed priest, prophet and king, so may you live always as a member of His body.”  As members of His body, we must also live prophetically, modeling ourselves on Christ’s example.  Following Christ’s word.  His heart.  There is a  popular Christian rock song that says it well – the refrain goes like this “Oh Jesus, friend of sinners, break our hearts for what breaks yours.”  For authentic followers of the Lord, to remain silent, to do nothing is not an option.

            But you and I know that isn’t easy.  Nor is it comfortable.  In fact, it takes us right out of our comfort zones.  We’d often time much rather just relax and forget about the poor, the homeless, the unborn, the immigrant.   Those poor people down in Haiti.

            Ya know, I was listening to Father John Riccardo, who has a weekly show on Catholic radio, and he speaks of folks who would just rather tune all that out and just “watch the big game.  Don’t they know there’s a big game on?  I can’t be concerned about that stuff because I gotta watch the game.” 

            Or I might show concern about an issue for a day or two, but then go about my life…the routine of life takes over.

            And isn’t it true that most of the time we’re worried about what others will think of us?  What will my family and friends, folks I work with, kids I go to school with – what will they think of me if I speak up, if I refuse to shut up and be quiet?  I saw an answer to this question this/yesterday morning – I was driving on Calkins Road out in Henrietta and I saw a sign in front of a protestant Church that went something like this “Better to earn the praise of God than the esteem of people.”  Still, we want the esteem of people.  We crave the esteem of people.   I know I do.  I don’t want people to think I’m some kind of wingnut.  To speak prophetically takes courage and it takes discernment – to be open to what the Lord is speaking in our hearts.  And it takes grace – the grace that comes especially from the Eucharist, which we will soon share in communion.

            But in speaking prophetically, we must never forget the first commandment of the Lord is love.  We witness authentically only when we witness with a patient, kind, humble love, such as St. Paul writes so beautifully about in today’s letter to the Corinthians.  It is worthless to proclaim our faith - we become a resounding gong or a clashing cymbal - if we speak without love.  This love is not a feeling, but rather an intentional, decision about how to act and behave, made with our wills, our brains. 

            In her internet post, my friend remarked about how when she got to Washington last week, she found none of the radical, unfeeling zealots she feared seeing there.  No.  She found nothing but kind and compassionate, truly “pro-life” men and women and young adults and children at every turn, folks who expressed compassion and concern and love for all the victims of abortion, the unborn as well as the mothers and fathers who find themselves trapped and see no way out of making this “choice.”  My friend found both prophecy and love there.

            So we ask Our Lord for the grace and strength and courage to speak courageously and prophetically, compassionately and lovingly to our world.  A world broken by poverty and greed, sexual license and selfishness, hatred and intolerance.  A world so badly in need of our witness for Jesus Christ, a world so badly in need of the healing, the redemption, and the love that come only through Christ Our Lord.  Amen.

Friday, January 25, 2013

Preached yesterday - Memorial of St. Francis deSales - St. Kateri at Christ the King site

Wrote one homily and didn't like it so much, so I wrote another on the Gospel - preached the Gospel homily at 6:30 and then the Francis deSales homily at 8:


I did a little presentation yesterday for Coffee and Catholicism entitled “what does it mean to be Church” in which I drew heavily from the fathers of Vatican II, especially from the Dogmatic Constitution on the Church, Lumen Gentium, a document which makes a clear and strong call to all of the people of God, the clergy and the laity alike, to take up the mission of Christ.  That is, to bring the light of Christ to the nations, and to preach the Gospel to every creature, and to bring about the salvation of the world.  And how exactly are we to do that?  By the example of our own holy lives, by our own holy deeds.  By our love!

            I think a lot of folks think that was a pretty new concept with Vatican II.  I mean, before the Council, there seemed to be a general belief that “the Church” was the clerics, and the salvation of the world was their responsibility.  That holiness was something bishops and priests need to be concerned with.  But no.  Lumen Gentium makes clear that the mission of Christ – the salvation of the world – is each of our responsibilities – all of our responsibilities, and as such, each of the baptized must strive for personal holiness.

            But even though perhaps it wasn’t emphasized very much before Vatican II, this was no new concept.  In fact, the call to the laity to strive for personal holiness was something we can largely attribute to the Saint whom we celebrate today – Francis de Sales.  For Francis, who lived just after the Protestant Reformation, more than any other spiritual writer, stressed the need for each of us to pursue lives of holiness.  And in his dealings with His flock and in his vast letters and writings, Francis provided the wisdom and the direction for the Faithful to do just that. 

            But it’s not just holiness that we are called to, according to Francis.  You and I are called to something even greater, which he calls devotion.  To live devout lives.  True devotion, according to Francis, is putting the love of God into action.  Prompt action.   Where our faith lives are not only focused on our own sanctification, but where our lives become more and more outward-directed.  And this is naturally harder for laypersons, says Francis, because the world of the laity is more a challenging and difficult in which to put God’s love into action.

            But that’s where Evangelization will come from – from committed, devout followers of Christ living committed, devout, active lives in the world.  According to Francis, it is the mission of the Faithful to live so that the world will find “a wellspring of holy piety amid the bitter waves of society and amid the flames of earthly lusts without singeing the wings of its devout life.”  In other words, to live and act and be the presence of Christ in this world without being of this world.

            Let us ask St. Francis deSales, then, for his intercession that we may have the strength and courage and grace to live ever more devout lives, that by our lives and example we may present Jesus Christ to the world around us, and that through us in His Holy Church, Christ may win many souls to the glory of God the Father. Amen.


Second homily -


            Perhaps you’ve experienced this – I know I have – you listen to the proclamation of the Gospel and your curiosity is piqued, you have some burning question about it and you hope the preacher will address it – and then he preaches on the first reading, leaving your question unanswered.

            Well I had that experience with this Gospel - I had my own burning question:  Why the heck does Jesus rebuke the unclean spirits “not to tell anyone” that He is the Son of God?  And, you may recall, this isn’t the only place in Mark’s Gospel where Jesus commands quiet.  In the eighth chapter Peter confesses Jesus is the Messiah, and Our Lord commands him and the disciples not to tell anyone!  And there are others places too.  Why is that?

            Well after a bit of research and thinking and praying, here’s the thing, I think.  You see, Mark’s Gospel never conceals who Jesus is – in chapter 1 verse 1 Mark makes it very clear “the beginning of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.”  Meaning, as Peter later confesses, the Messiah.   The rest of the Gospel, though, is devoted to telling his readers exactly what sort of Messiah this Jesus is.

            Today’s Gospel tells us that the people saw the Lord was some sort of rock star healer!  Folks swarming from every direction, not to listen to His words, not to learn His message, but to be healed.  To be made whole.  Just by touching Him.  But Mark doesn’t want this to be our only understanding of who Jesus is, of what sort of Messiah He is, and that is why we hear Jesus rebuke the unclean spirits to “tell no one about Him.”

            You know, I think we have this tendency to think of Jesus in terms of His life, His power, his healing, the benefits He bestows, I know I often do.  A lot of TV religion does too.  In our minds’ eye we swarm Him ourselves in prayer and look to press in on Him and touch Him.  And that is fine and good. 

            But, in his Gospel, written to the Church in Rome undergoing terrible persecution, Mark doesn’t want us to think of Jesus without also thinking of the cross.  Doesn’t want us to think about His life without also keeping in mind His suffering and death.  Jesus is a mighty healer, yes, but He is also a suffering Messiah. 

            Who while swarmed from every direction for his healing, was later left abandoned to die a criminal’s death.  Who saves us only through His suffering, death and resurrection, and calls us to take up our own crosses.   To unite our own sufferings to His.  Be they our aches and pains, or our illnesses small and serious, our frustrations, our brokenness, even our persecutions.  He calls us to bear these crosses and endure for love of Him.

            So let us ask the Lord today for the grace and the strength to follow Him faithfully, for the courage to endure our own sufferings, and the peace that only He can give to us.

Sunday, January 20, 2013

Preached today Jan 20 - SKT at St. Margaret Mary, 9a and 11a

Mass readings:  http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/012013.cfm

Audio:   https://sites.google.com/site/sktdeaconed/home/mp3/homily%2001.20.13.mp3?attredirects=0&d=1


I    Got    Nuthin.
 <pause>

            A parishioner friend of mine once suggested to me that I consider saying that for my homily some time - “I got nuthin” - you know, some time when the right words just don’t come to me,  just get up there, he told me, shake your head, shrug your shoulders and say “I   got   nuthin.”  And go sit down.  “The people will appreciate your honesty,” he told me.

            Those words came back to me in reading today’s Gospel, for I imagined a beleaguered bartender at this fancy Cana wedding feast, when asked for one more glass of red wine, simply shaking his head and shrugging his shoulders and saying “Sorry.  I got nuthin.  Just ran out.  You’re out of luck, dude.”

            And the same words come to me whenever I pause to reflect on what my life would be like if Jesus Christ weren’t in it, on what it would be like if Jesus (and His mother!) weren’t my invited guests.  How could I hope to endure day to day and moment to moment in this twisted, mixed up and even violent and evil world if I didn’t have the love and the grace and the strength of Jesus Christ in my life? 

            You know, I often wonder just how folks who don’t have Faith in Christ do cope, how do they get by, how do they find meaning in their lives, if indeed they do?  Just how do folks deal with their own and their loved ones’ illnesses, job losses, the loss of parents, siblings, a spouse and even a child, all the “stuff” that happens in this world, this fallen world, how do they do that without the power of Christ in their lives?  As for me, without Him, I got nuthin.

            But the Lord’s grace is more than a crutch, a life-preserver to cling to in the stormy seas of our lives.  The Lord’s grace is also the power that enables you and me to fulfill our calling as Christians – to live good, holy lives, to live in and raise up good and holy families, to BE His hands and feet, mind and heart, ears and mouth in a world so hungry for Him, a world that doesn’t even know it’s hungry for Him. 

            For as feeble a husband and parent as I can be from time to time, I shudder to think what would happen without Faith in Christ, without His grace and power and mercy in my life.  And unworthy as I am, called to serve here at this altar and stand at this ambo, what could I possibly do if it weren’t Jesus Christ Himself using me and speaking through me?    The words of Peter come to mind, “depart from me, Lord, for I am a weak and sinful man.”  Without Him, I got nuthin.

            On the other hand, contrast that with the Lord Himself.  For as sparse and forsaken and desolate as our lives can seem, the Lord’s love and mercy and power are plentiful.  Overflowing.  Extravagant! 

            Do the math – six stone water jars each holding twenty to thirty gallons of water – that’s 150 gallons of new wine!  If my math is correct, that’s 587 litre-bottles of wine.  And not just any wine – the best wine!  Later on in John’s Gospel the Lord takes a couple fish and a few loaves and feeds five thousand!  What He gives us, what He feeds us - His mercy, His love, His grace, His POWER – they’re overflowing!  There’s no limit to it!  By myself - I got nuthin.  With Jesus, there’s no limit.  With Jesus, I got everything!

            But here’s the thing.  The crux.  We find them in Mary’s words today:  “Do whatever He tells you.”  If the waiters had ignored what Jesus told them, nuthin would have happened.  No miracle.  No amazing sign would have been given.   It took their cooperation, indeed, their trust, for anything to have happened that day.  And what cooperation it was.  These jars must have weighed 50 pounds and I assume they had to carry them to the well, and then bring them back, and filled to the brim they weighed over 250 pounds!  That’s a lot of work to carry six of them back to the wedding feast.  A lot of cooperation.  So Jesus did the miracle, but it only happened when the servants pitched in and did their part.

            And so it is with you.  And with me.  If we ignore what He is telling us, nuthin happens.  But if you and I listen to His quiet voice and gentle urgings, His tugs at our hearts, there is no limit to the grace He will pour into our lives.  No limit to what He can accomplish through us. Through you or me.  Through our Church.   In our world.  The Mother of Jesus says to the servants, and she is saying the same thing to you and to me: “Do whatever He tells you.”

<pause>

            We wrap up today a very special week in our liturgical year, a week devoted to vocations awareness.  A week in which we pray and contemplate on our own vocations, on the way in which Jesus Christ is calling each of us, right here and right now.  In what way each of us, as baptized followers of the Lord, will indeed “Do whatever He tells us.”  And a week in which we pray for vocations to ministry in the Church.

            To each is given different gifts for different forms of service.  It may be a vocation to love one other person for a lifetime in the Sacrament of Marriage.  And through that Sacrament to be open to bring new life into the world, and raise up faith-filled children.  It may be in the single life, to chastely and devoutly serve God and our fellow humankind.  And some are called to religious life.  To the holy priesthood.  The permanent diaconate.  To become consecrated religious – sisters and brothers.  Called in a unique way to give their lives to the Lord and His Church, His people.

            So even though we are now completing this vocations awareness week, let us continue to pray and contemplate on our own vocations, and let us pray that God will call forth good and worthy and holy servants of His Church and His people.  And that each of us will listen to Christ’s call in our own lives so that we may give ourselves to Him fully, to the glory of God the Father.  Amen.