Monday, February 26, 2018

Let God Lead! (2nd Sunday of Lent, Cycle B)

To listen to this homily, click here.

There are few stories more intriguing, more confusing, or downright disturbing as the one in our first reading. This account of Abraham and Isaac hiking up Mount Moriah is enough to make us wonder what sort of God this is, who would ask a father to sacrifice his son. This is especially true, if we understand how special Isaac was to Abraham. For the longest time, Abraham and his wife Sarah were unable to have children. But then, when all hope seemed lost, when both Abraham and Sarah were quite old, God blessed them with a child of their own. God displayed his goodness and power by enabling Sarah to give birth to a healthy son, even though scripture tells us she was 90 years old!! This child grew up and was sacred to Abraham and Sarah; he was the embodiment of God's promise to them. He was the one who would carry on Abraham's lineage to the next generation. Few fathers loved their sons as much as Abraham loved Isaac. And fewer still realized what a gift and blessing they had in their sons.
            God puts Abraham to the test in order to see the depth of his faith; He asks Abraham to prove his faith, love, and devotion by sacrificing Isaac, his only, beloved son. Parents, could you imagine hearing this from God? Can you imagine the turmoil and struggle? This certainly seems like a no-win situation for Abraham; satisfy God by sacrificing your son or keep your son and fail God's test. Abraham chooses to follow God's command and takes Isaac to the land of Moriah to be sacrificed. As he raised the knife to slaughter his son, God steps in and says, "wait!!" Now I see how devoted you are to me. Because of your faith and willingness to give everything to me, even your only son…. I will bless you." And how does God bless Abraham? He blesses him abundantly, beyond his wildest dreams. The Lord tells Abraham, an old man with only one son, that he will multiply his descendants until they become as numerous as the sands of the sea and as countless as the stars in the sky. And those descendents will be blessed with many good things all because Abraham had faith in God and was not afraid to give up the one thing that was most important to him, the one person who was nearest and dearest to his heart.
            Even though I have heard this story many times, it never loses its power. And while I am confident none of us will ever be asked to sacrifice a child to the Lord, (even though some of you with teenagers might have entertained the thought), this story of Abraham's testing has something profound to teach us. First of all, it help us appreciate Abraham's faith? Here was a man, willing to entrust the life of his only son to the will of God. Abraham was able to look beyond the very logical and reasonable fears that would have said "no" to God's test and somehow trust that God would make things right. And God did. Abraham is our father in faith and he serves as a beautiful example of what we should strive for in our own relationship with God, even when the Lord's commands seem too much, too hard, or simply don't make sense.           
            Haven't we all been in a spiritually-confusing situation before? That place where God asks us to give him something or someone near and dear to our hearts. In each of our lives, God has, God is, and God will call us to make sacrifices that involve the things most precious to us. He does this to test our faith; he does this to test our love; he does this so that he can bless us abundantly, beyond our wildest dreams.
            In my own life, I have experienced this "Abraham moment" whenever the Archbishop has asked me to move to another parish. For whatever reason, I have never stayed in one place for more than a few years. I have been very happy in the different parishes I have served but I have always tried to be generous and trust that when the Archbishop asks me to move, it is the voice of God inviting me to give up one good thing so I can experience something even better! And I have been so blessed each time I have trusted God and moved forward with faith!
This Lenten season is a time for sacrifice, a time of testing. What is God asking you to offer back to him? Most of us Americans have an obsession with control. Could it be that he is asking you to let go and trust him in taking a different job or being open to another child? Perhaps this sacrifice might be seen in God nudging you to commit a more significant amount of time, talent, and money to those who are less fortunate. Is it possible that he is asking to let go of the gadgets and the busyness that so often keep us from deepening our relationship with God and others? Could it be that God is even calling some to leave everything behind and follow him as a priest or consecrated religious?
            Or maybe God is asking you to offer someone back to him, just like he did with Abraham. Is there a good friend or a beloved family member that Christ is asking you to share with others or offer up in prayer? Is there someone whom we are putting above God right now? Is there a person we can't let go of, even though we know it is the right thing for us and for them? Is there someone dear to us who needs to be challenged or brought closer to God? These examples are just some of the ways that God might be testing our faith, asking us to give back to him our greatest blessing so that he can bless us even more.

            Perhaps this seems too tough or far-fetched. Indeed it might have been, if God hadn't done it himself. You see, God so loved the world; God so loved us, that he gave his only-begotten Son, to suffer and die on the cross so we might be reunited to him and enjoy eternal life. God has shown us how to give up what is most precious to us and demonstrates the blessings that come from such a complete sacrifice. The story of Abraham and Isaac should give us courage in our own journey of faith, especially during this Lenten season. God is asking us to make sacrifices, to offer our greatest blessings back to him so that he can bless us even further with a generosity that defies our imaginations and expectations. Let us not be afraid to let go and offer whatever that might be so we can share in the glory God has prepared for us. We have nothing to lose; we have everything to gain.

Monday, February 19, 2018

The Sin of Racism (1st Sunday of Lent)

To listen to this homily, click here.

Every so often, after prayer and discernment, the Archbishop asks his priests to preach on a single topic on a certain weekend to provoke an Archdiocesan-wide reflection on a pressing issue of our times. On this first Sunday of Lent, Archbishop Carlson has asked us to preach on the topic of racism but has given latitude for how each priest does that. 

To be honest, I wasn’t real excited to undertake this task. Not because I am so naive to think that racism doesn’t exist in our city, in our Church, and even in our parish; I know that it does, in both blatant and subtle forms. The reluctance comes from knowing how politicized, manipulated, and convoluted this topic has become in our society. It is very difficult to have a rational, honest, respectful discussion about racism and its possible causes and remedies without it devolving into labels, judgements, and self-righteous indignation which perpetuate the “us-versus-them” mentality. As a result, I think many of us go into our shell and avoid talking about the issue all together, almost hoping it will just go away. But of course it won’t. My reflection today will focus on the spiritual component of the sin of racism. Specific topics like the historical, socio-economic factors that contribute to this evil are more complex and contentious and probably best left for discussion outside of Mass. 

Racism, and for that matter, any “ism” like sexism and ageism, are products of original sin. Before Adam and Eve turned against God in their pride, they could see the world and each other with God’s eyes. In other words, they wanted what God wanted. Selfishness, hatred, and using another person was unthinkable. But with the introduction of sin, every terrible thing became possible. Adam and Eve became afraid of each other and of God. They lost trust in each other and covered themselves. They hid from God. Within one generation, their children murder each other. The original unity and kindness God intended vanishes quickly when sin enters the human heart. After the introduction of sin, human beings tend to use each other for profit and pleasure. A person is judged by appearance or in terms of what they can do for me rather than accepted as a reflection of God and a brother or sister in Christ. For these reasons and more, racism, in both its subtle and blatant forms, is sinful and cannot be compatible with our beliefs or the portrait of God described in the first reading. 

It is hard to give a perfect definition of racism but a good start would be “the belief that a particular race is superior or inferior to another and that a person's social and moral traits are predetermined by his or her inborn biological characteristics”. It is not racist to observe that people look, think, believe, and act in very different ways. Racism happens when a person or a whole group of people is judged and condemned based on the color of their skin.

Because racism is a spiritual problem and a moral evil, it’s remedy will be the same as other sins we struggle with. We cannot fix it by human efforts alone! We have to do our part but without God’s grace our initiatives will always fall short and disappoint. We need, as Christians, to make God part of the solution. Faith has to guide our thoughts, words, and actions.

Think again of our first reading today with Noah and the Ark. After the flood, God reaches out to the whole human race through Noah; not just that small group of survivors but every single human that will ever live! God doesn’t just shake hands with Noah, he enters into something called a covenant with humanity. So, what is a covenant?

A covenant is more than a legal contract or serious promise or even a solemn oath. A covenant is a living relationship where one person or party binds themselves to another person or party in a unique relationship. In a covenant, the two people or parties become family, intertwined in the most intimate way. To break a covenant is to tear away from the family and destroy the bond of kinship. An example would be marriage. In marriage two people enter into a union and form a family. Even their extended families are drawn together by this bond. A good marriage is beautiful thing in the life it fosters and the way it brings people unity, comfort, healing, and strength. When a marriage goes bad, when that covenant is disrespected or destroyed, it is incredibly destructive, divisive, and hurtful.

God wants humanity to be his family. He takes the initiative and reaches out to Noah as soon as dry land appears. His language is very beautiful and clear. Never again will the earth be destroyed by a flood. Not only that, but every time the clouds fill the sky, when rains falls to earth, and a rainbow appears, each and every time, God thinks of that covenant and remembers his love for each and every creature he made. 

God is a loving father, patient savior, merciful judge, interested listener, loyal spouse, dedicated brother, compassionate friend, and tireless advocate. Any words, beliefs or behaviors that contradicts these qualities and divides the human race doesn’t come from God!

This loving invite from God to Noah was not simply a neat moment in history; it is a living relationship. The Lord is still inviting people into this covenant, not simply as a group, not just as anonymous members of the human race, but as individuals. God is constantly seeking a personal, unique, one on one covenant with you and me that is different than the one he has with any other person. He will not get discouraged, disgusted, or give up. He doesn’t love me more than you or anyone else. He doesn’t give preference to one race over another. Each and every person is a member of his family who was worth the sacrifice of His Only-Begotten Son. We enjoy that dignity regardless of what country we were born in, our income, social status, education, or any other metric society imposes. But just as we enjoy that divine dignity, we also realize we owe it to every single person. We have no right to take it away or refuse it to another. 

Lent is a special, focused time to let go of anything that separates us from God or divides the worldwide family He unconditionally loves. It is an opportunity to invite God deeper into every aspect of our thinking and acting so that He can heal the wounds of sin in our hearts and in the world. May God bless these holy days and may we all accept the invitation to be a part of His family, treating each other with respect, charity, and fairness without exception!  


 

Tuesday, February 13, 2018

Do You Want to be Clean? (6th Sunday, Cycle B)

To listen to this homily, click here.

I really struggled to come up with a homily this weekend. It didn’t help that we have readings which focus on the gruesome disease of leprosy. And every time I hear them, I have to share an awful joke about the leper colony, you know, the one where I ask: “do you know why lepers can’t play hockey? Because there would always be a face off in the corner! But above all, it’s been difficult to write a homily for these readings because they seem so simple, straightforward, and obvious. What more is there to add to the first reading? It is very clear on the matter. If anyone thinks that he has signs of leprosy, he must present himself to the priest for inspection. If he has the dreaded disease, the unlucky leper shall keep his garments torn and his head bare, and shall cry out, 'Unclean, unclean!' and live apart from everyone else, keeping himself in strict quarantine. 

And what of the gospel, where Jesus is approached by a leper? We know how the story goes, Jesus allows the man to come to him and he has pity on him. Jesus heals the leper of his horrible illness and tells him to go quietly to receive a clean bill of health from the priest. The moral lesson of the miracle is pretty clear; we are all spiritual lepers, outcasts because of our sinfulness and we need to approach Jesus to be cleansed of our sinfulness. But, as always, Scripture has much more to teach us than we first realize.

Leprosy was one of the most feared diseases in ancient times. The skin infection started small, almost imperceptibly, but soon spread throughout the victim’s body. Slowly, the leper’s body would rot and give off a disgusting smell. As explained in today's First Reading, lepers were excluded from society and left to die a slow, painful, humiliating death in order to protect the rest of society. To come into contact with a leper would also make one unclean, since their disease was believed to be a sign of God's punishment.

Theologians and spiritual writers have always seen in this Old Testament conception of leprosy a symbol of sin. Sin is a kind of spiritual leprosy. It slowly disfigures our souls and spreads into every corner of our lives. It destroys us and our ability to love other people. It cuts us off from the purpose of our life and our role in human society. Just as leprosy starts small but spreads and grows, so one sin, one betrayal of our conscience or one disobedience of Church teaching can easily become something that overtakes us and begins to rot our entire soul.
Therefore, when Jesus reaches out and touches this leper, and heals him, it is much more than just another miracle. It is a revelation of Christ's entire mission. He is the Redeemer, the Savior; he is the one who comes into this fallen, sin-infected world and, with the power of his mercy and grace, cleanses it and gives it a new start. And he does the same thing with each one of our lives, as often as we need it, especially in the sacraments and teachings of the Church he founded to save us.
St. Mark points out a subtle detail in this encounter we should not overlook. Jesus cured the leper by touching him. Think about that for a moment. Jesus was the all-powerful Son of God. He didn't have to touch this leper; in fact, it was against Jewish law to make contact. A word or a wave of his hand would have done the trick, fulfilled the law, and been a lot more pleasant that touching the rotting flesh of this nasty, smelly, leper.
And yet, Jesus does touch him. As a matter of fact, he makes a point of touching him. Jesus goes beyond what is strictly necessary, because he wants to show us that his love is super-abundant. Jesus touched the leper for our benefit, just as he suffered the scourging, the crowning with thorns, the way of the cross, and his long, painful crucifixion. He knows that it is hard for us to trust him, to come to him with our wounds, sins, weaknesses, and failures. He knows it's hard for us, and so he makes it easier, by showing us he is much bigger than all of that. He longs to forgive us, to save us, to give us a fresh start, as often as we need it, if only we give him the chance. None of our hidden leprosies surprise or repel him; he knows us too well; he loves us unconditionally.

But there is one last detail about this miracle that we should not overlook. St. Mark tells us that the leper "came to Jesus," close enough to kneel in front of him. This was something that was absolutely forbidden. Normally, if a leper tried to approach a healthy person, he would be met with a barrage of stones to keep him away. Why would he approach when everyone knew the law required him to keep his distance? Something about Jesus must have inspired confidence. The leper must have sensed that Jesus would not be afraid or disgusted by him. And the leper was right. Jesus does not run away or yell for him to keep his distance but simply says "I do will it (be made clean) and heals him - something no one else could or would do.
Is this how we think of Christ? Do we have that same confidence in Our Lord? Jesus has chosen to stay as close to us as he was to that leper, by touching us in the Eucharist. In every Catholic Church, Jesus is truly present in the Tabernacle, body, blood, soul, and divinity. When we drive by a Catholic Church, Jesus is reaching out to us just as he did to this leper. He is inviting us to come up close to him, to kneel down in front of him, and pour out all our miseries, hardships, confusions, and needs. He wants us to pray the same beautiful prayer of the leper today: "Lord, if you wish, you can make me clean.”

Perhaps the only question left to ask ourselves, do we really want to be made clean?

Monday, February 5, 2018

Saying Yes to the Right Things (5th Sunday of OT)

To listen to this homily, click here.

A handful of years ago, when I was stationed way out west in St. Charles, Chik-Fil-A decided to open one their first standalone restaurants right down the road from the parish. I had heard of this brand before. In fact, you could get Chik-Fil-A at the Busch student center and I often did in between classes when I was a student at SLU. But I was taken aback by the devotion and excitement people had for this new location. I would hear people talking about it, about how they drove by the construction and “boy, they are really moving on that new Chik-Fil-A building!” Some people even knew the scheduled completion date and how many days remained until the grand opening; if you didn’t know any better you might think they were discussing the due date for their new baby! But that wasn’t the end of it. In the days leading up the grand opening, people began camping outside the restaurant for a chance to be one of the first handful of customers who would win a free chicken sandwich every day for a year. I was more than willing to spend a few bucks for my sandwich and sleep in my own bed. But this love for free food and really for free anything is as old as the human race. 

We see this over and over again in the gospels. Jesus multiplies the loaves and fishes and a crowd of thousands pursue him looking for more. In today’s passage, Jesus stops by the home of his apostles Peter and Andrew. They tell him that Peter’s mother-in-law is ill with a fever. Apparently St. Peter liked his mother in law because instead of asking the Lord to finish her off, he requests healing. Jesus obliges and instantly she is better. Immediately the word gets out that a miracle man is healing people, for free, instantly! St. Mark says the whole town was gathered at the door and they brought all who were suffering spiritually and physically. Now, suddenly, Jesus has become a one-man hospital. The Gospel says that Jesus healed many of them.

If the whole city was at Peter’s house that evening, then Jesus was probably healing well into the night. The Gospel says that Jesus left the house long before dawn and went into a secluded place to pray. He was so besieged by those who wanted healing that he could’t pray in the house.

When his disciples finally realized he was gone, they went looking for him. When they locate the Lord, they say, “Hey, everybody is looking for you! There are still sick people waiting” They seem to think that his urgent-care clinic should be open at all hours.

Now, of course, it is a good work to heal the sick. And, of course, those with loved ones who are suffering are right to want them healed.
And yet how absurd it is to suppose that prayer should take second-place to work, no matter what the work is! And how sadly and understandably absurd it is to suppose that the mission of Jesus is to be a “Doctor Without Borders.”

Each healing Jesus does is a good thing. Sickness, suffering and death were not part of God’s plan for us or the world He created. But believe it or not, good things can actually get in the way of serving God properly. To serve God well, a person cannot just do any and all the good things others ask of him. He has to do those good things that God has called him to do. It takes prayer to figure out which good things to turn down and which ones are part of God’s plan for our life and our day.

The disciples feel that Jesus needs to hurry back to Peter’s village to keep practicing medicine and take away every sick person’s ailment. What Jesus tells them, after his sacred time of prayer, is that he is leaving Peter’s village to continue his ministry—not of medicine but of preaching in other towns. Preaching is the purpose for which he came. Salvation of the human race is His sole focus of Jesus’ time here on earth. Miracles and healings, as wonderful as they are, are simply signs of his power and authority to save us.

What does this mean for us, as disciples of the One and Only Savior? 


What is needed to serve God well is not doing endless good things that other people ask from us. We will not impress God by simply signing up to do more and more things. What is needed for the Lord’s service is a personal relationship with Jesus Christ, manifested in a regular habit of prayer. From that time with God comes the wisdom and clarity to know what things we are called to commit to, how we ought to use our personal gifts and talents, and what relationships will lead us closer to God. This approach is not just for the areas that relate directly to God, this parish, or your spiritual life. We should bring everything to prayer. For example: how many sports should my children be signed up for? Running them around to practices and going on trips for tournaments have real impacts on finances and family time together and ought to be prayed about. Volunteering is another area where there are so many opportunities for doing good but there is only one of me and so much need in the world. Am I asking God to help me pick where to help or am I just choosing blindly…if I am choosing anything at all. Thinking about our lives, all of us can think of many instances where we have to choose between different good causes. Let God help with these decisions! Prayerful decision-making will make us faithful to the good things which fulfill us while keeping focussed on the most important thing of all: the salvation of our soul, our family, and our world.