Who Holds the Keys? (21st Sunday, Year A)

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Do you remember the first time mom or dad gave you the keys to the car, after you got your license and you could legally drive alone? Remember the excitement, the independence, and the little bit of fear as you pulled away, knowing you were in charge of the vehicle? Having the keys to the car brought exhilarating power and responsibility, even if only for a few miles or hours. Or how about the moment when you closed on a house, especially your first house, and the keys were handed over to you? How awesome it was to unlock the door and realize that now this place was yours?! You decide who comes and goes, and it is a place that can express who you are. One of the first things I did when I arrived here on June 27 was to walk over to the parish office and receive the pastor’s set of keys. Keys confer both power and responsibility, a sense of ownership and commitment that is much larger than their physical properties.

This Sunday we are presented with two figures who are given keys. The first is Eliakim. Eliakim was the secretary to Shebna the Master of King Hezekiah's palace, about 700 years before Christ. According the first reading from Isaiah, Shebna lost favor with the Lord and was replaced by Eliakim. Isaiah goes on to say that God placed the keys of the Kingdom on Eliakim’s shoulder. He would be Master of the Palace and the one through whom others would have to go to gain access to the King.

The Gospel from Matthew presents Peter as receiving the keys to the Kingdom of God. Like Eliakim, he would determine who has access to the King. Peter is usually pictured as having keys, representing the authority given to him by the Lord. I suppose modern statues of St. Peter might need to depict him holding a smartphone or access card to reflect the ways we gain access today. In any case, who holds the Keys of the Kingdom now? 

Jesus Christ is the judge of the Living and the Dead. He is the one who determines who will enter into God’s presence after their death. But who holds the Keys to the Kingdom here on earth? Since these Keys were entrusted to Peter, and since Peter was the head of the Church in Rome, his successor, the Bishop of Rome, holds the keys to the Kingdom. Right now, Pope Francis is that person. But the keys had been held by many before him and they will be held by all the popes who will come after him. 

We have a concrete authority who guides us. Because of the Pope and the teaching authority of the Church, we know who we are when we say we are Catholic. We know the fundamental beliefs of our faith and the basic demands of our morals. These do not change based on the country we live in or who is Pope at the time. These parts of our faith remain the same throughout the centuries. We are firm in our faith, even if those in authority should give us a poor example, we still maintain our Christianity. Even though there have been bad leaders in the Catholic Church throughout history, the Church still flourishes. Why? Because the Church is far more than individuals, it is the Body of Christ. Because Jesus is guiding our Church through the Holy Spirit, God can even use weak and sinful leaders to guide His Church because the fundamental teachings never change.

One of the problems with keys is that everyone wants a set. We see that here in the parish with the gym, church, and school. But if everyone has keys, there is no accountability and it becomes very difficult to maintain the integrity of what those keys protect. In his wisdom, Christ entrusted the keys to the kingdom to one person, the pope, to ensure that the path to heaven will stay open and accessible throughout all times and circumstances. The Pope then shares a key or two with the bishops, who in turn share a key with their priests, and so it goes on down the line that we call the hierarchy.The challenge for us is humbling ourselves to follow the Vicar of Christ as he leads us with those keys. We may not always understand why our Catholic Church teaches what she does, we might even think we could do it better by ourselves, to bind and loose as we see fit. But this will always lead to disaster and division, despite the best of intentions. 

Today’s readings remind us why we honor the Vicar of Christ, the Pope. We don’t honor him for the individual he is. We honor Pope Francis, because he has been entrusted with the Keys of the Kingdom. In the recent times we have been blessed with popes who were very holy men. Blessed Pius IX, St. Pius X, St. John XXIII and St. John Paul II each gave us examples of how to live our Christianity. These men were intensely spiritual throughout their lives, not just when they were popes. They were beatified and canonized for the way they lived their Christianity, not just for the way they exercised their authority. Other popes may not be candidates for canonization, but they were holy fathers, entrusted with the keys to the Kingdom. 

We pray today and every day for our present Holy Father, and for the ones who will eventually succeed him. We thank God for providing the papacy as a way to lead and guide us on our journey through the challenging and confusing times we face during this life. Let us ask God to make us humble that we will always follow the one he has entrusted with the keys, even when we don’t fully understand or agree.

Do You Belong? (20th Sunday, Year A)

Almost a month ago, we had the funeral of a well-known gentleman of the parish, Harry Dunn Jr. There were a number of visiting priests at the mass and I was speaking to Fr. Tom Dempsey in the sacristy before we began. He knew I had just moved to Incarnate Word and kindly asked me how things were going. I told him it was difficult to start over, to leave a parish where you were in the middle of people’s lives to once again become an outsider in a new community. Fr. Dempsey, a priest for more than 55 years, gave me some encouragement and shared that his experience was similar, that the first weeks and months of a new assignment are indeed the loneliest and most difficult. However, the process of being welcomed into a parish family and becoming an important part of your new parish makes it all worth it.

This feeling of belonging or conversely, the fear of not fitting in or wondering what our place might be, is something we all experience at different points as we start a new school year, begin a new job, move into a different neighborhood, or join a different parish. Our psalm and first two readings are beautiful scriptures about inclusion. Through Isaiah, the Lord states that any foreigner who unite themselves to him will be part of his family. God’s house is meant to be a house of prayer for all peoples. The psalm exclaims, “O God, let all the nations praise you!” Even the fiery St. Paul shares the love and encourages the Gentiles, meaning all non-Jewish people, that God’s mercy is extended to them as well.

This theme of belonging, of acceptance in God’s house seems to hit a brick wall with the gospel. The feeling of not belonging someplace was certainly forced on the woman who comes to Jesus seeking healing for her daughter. She was a Canaanite, a gentile, a pagan. The apostles try to shoo her away! Who does she think she is: asking healing from this Jesus, a Jewish Holy Man? Jesus Himself seemed to emphasize this exclusion when He joined the sentiment of the crowd and said that He was only sent for the lost sheep of Israel. But the woman wouldn’t give up. 

She demanded an audience with Him. Her faith was further tested when the Lord said “it is not right to take the food of the children and throw it to the dogs”, dogs being the Jewish way of referring to the gentiles. Her response that even the dogs eat the food that falls from the table showed Jesus her faith in Him would not waiver. It was clear that she belonged there, before the Lord. No one could say she didn't belong. She couldn't even say that about herself. Rather than mistreating her or pushing her away, Jesus, who alone can read hearts and souls, is actually testing and rewarding her faith.

None of us should ever feel that we don't belong before the Lord. We do belong here in his house. We belong here because he has called us to be here. Of course we are not good enough to be in His Presence. Not on our own. But He makes us good enough. That is what Baptism does. And, if we squander the Grace of our Baptism, then Reconciliation makes us good enough. Everyone in the Church belongs here. And there are billions of people outside the Church who also belong here. This is the Catholic Church. The word Catholic literally means universal. All people from all lands, demographics, and races belong in the Church. They deserve to know Christ and the healing he offers.

The Catholic Church is not a white Church or a black Church or an Asian Church or a Hispanic Church. The Catholic Church is not an American Church. The Catholic Church is not a European Church. An attitude of “us’ vs “them”, “insider” vs “outsider” has no place in Catholicism. The Catholic Church is the universal Church. All people belong here. Saints and sinners belong here. People who are living exemplary lives belong here. People who are seeking to live better lives belong here. Most of us, probably all of us, are in that second group. We don't go to Church because we are so holy. We go to Church because we are seeking holiness. If you are seeking a friendship with God, you belong here.

There are many people here in our church, at Incarnate Word Parish, including myself, who come to Mass every week and even every day, asking God to heal us. We are seeking to be sincere in our practice of the faith. We belong here. "Come, all you who are weary and find life burdensome, the Lord said. He didn't exclude anyone. He said, all you who are weary. One of the most effective weapons the devil uses against us is convincing us that we deserve the Grace of God. The devil wants us to give up on ourselves and each other. He wants to divide God’s family and create little camps opposed to each other. The Lord promises he will never give up on us. So we don’t have the right to give up on ourselves and each other. God wants his family together for prayer and service, no matter how imperfect and complicated that family may be. And so, we come before Him this Sunday and every Sunday. We come before Him with simple faith like the Canaanite woman and we ask Him for healing. We learn to be patient and persevere, even when it feels like Jesus is testing our faith and making it stronger. Especially in those times, like the quick-witted woman of the gospel, we trust Him. For His mercy and compassion are infinitely greater than our sins. We look at the image of our Lord on the cross. We meditate on what He has done for us. And in complete humility we say, "I belong here and to each other, you belong here.”

A God of Silence (19th Sunday, Year A)

As many of you know, I just spent the last week and a half, hiking and camping in Glacier National Park. Those of you who have been there know the overwhelming beauty of that place. The massive valleys, the abundant wildlife, and the famous Going to the Sun Road all blew me away. One thing, however, caught me by surprise and it was the massive silence and solitude of the whole experience. Even though I went with a priest friend I have known for 20 years, there were huge gaps of quiet and time alone. With no cell phone service, no wifi, or tv, I was amazed how often I missed those distractions during my time away. Even though I consider myself an introvert and a reflective person, there was something challenging and even threatening about being cut-off from the outside world and having days and days which consisted largely of silence.

How surprised I was to see the readings for this weekend when I returned! In the first reading, that beautiful passage with Elijah, where he waits to experience God. There is a mighty wind, a powerful earthquake and even a fire, but God is not in any of these. Only when he heard a quiet whisper, does the prophet fall on his face in awe, knowing that God is present before him. In the gospel, after feeding the thousands in a miraculous way, Jesus hungers for what? A beer with the guys? A few hours binging on Netflix? No! Silence, solitude, quiet prayer on the mountain with his Father where he can hear the voice of God and be refreshed, renewed, and ready for another day of giving himself freely to those who need him. After his prayer, he walks on the water to join his apostles and what does he bring (after the whole Peter wanting to walk on water thing)? He brings calm and silence to the raging sea. 

Our God is a God who loves silence. He does speak but more often than not, hearing what he whispers requires a heart that is quiet, calm, and attentive. 

You and I, we live in a very noisy world. Certainly it has always been that way but our age faces new challenges and a new intensity of chaos and distraction. With increased connectivity and communication comes the unspoken expectation that we should be available and on-call always. A text needs to be read and responded to immediately. A phone message should be listened to and returned as soon as possible. Alerts from social media let us know the moment someone notices our photo or post. The end result, ironically, to all this communication, tends to be not a greater connection with each other or ourselves, but actually a restlessness. We are more and more anxious, insecure, and less present to each other. Notice, if you haven’t already, how often people check their phones while listening or talking to someone next to them. Observe the number of people at a meal, who pick up the phone compulsively to see what they are missing or to immediately fact-check a conversation. If it is that difficult for us to be present and attentive to each other, how much more so with God, who speaks softly in the silence?! 

I’m certainly not judging the people who are addicted to their phone or who check their email 50 times a day. I have done these things myself. I’ve been called out for not being present to my friends and family before and, sadly, probably will again at some point. I’ve freaked out when the internet went down at the rectory or I lost cell service for a while. In fact, it took 8 days in God’s great mountains, to show me how much noise I invite into my daily life. With that noise I accept an unholy restlessness where I become distant and distracted to others, myself, and even God.

Silence is scary. It is difficult. It forces us to look inwards and face tough questions, the nagging ones that we try to run away from, and put off, and drown out with other seemingly more pressing matters. Most of all, silence forces us to be present, attentive, and receptive to what God and others are offering right now. Boy is that hard! It is much easier to plan, to anticipate, to be thinking about the next thing instead of living in the here and now.

We might ask, what is our comfort level with silence in our lives? DO we have any substantial quiet in our daily routines at all? Is there a meaningful period of time each day where a phone, computer, tablet, and tv does not have power over us? Is there a quiet space in our prayer for God to speak, heart to heart?

In the end, it comes down to a choice. What will be the priorities in our lives? What will take precedence? If it is going to be a holy relationship with God and healthy friendships with others then we are going to have to enter into silence often, listening and being fully present to the people around us. We can’t be afraid to step outside the noise for a little bit each day. Take a walk without music, come to the adoration chapel for 30 minutes or an hour, grab lunch with a friend and leave your phone in the car. The world will keep turning, none of us are so important that we can’t be disconnected for a little while! For us as Christians, silence is not a luxury; it is the foundation on which we build our relationship with God and become holy. 

To conclude, I am going to sit down and give us all 2 minutes of silence to breathe in God’s peace and open up that space where God loves to speak.