Mariah Carey, Figgy Pudding, and Jesus (Christmas 2022)

To listen to this homily, click here.

First of all, on behalf of the priests, deacons and parish staff of Incarnate Word, let me wish each of you a very blessed and merry Christmas. It seems like every year, the need grows for the hope and joy provided by Our Savior’s Birth. I hope these holy days warm our hearts and homes in a new and wonderful way!

A couple weeks ago, there was a cheeky article in the Wall Street Journal detailing the harrowing plight of retail workers throughout North America during this busy holiday season. In this piece, employees of many different businesses shared their trauma of having to listen to the same Christmas tunes over and over again during their shifts. Some of them described their preferred coping mechanisms, looking for rooms and closets without speakers to take a break from the repeating playlists. Others blacklisted particular songs with sentiments that would certainly place them on Santa’s naughty list! Nearly everyone referenced “All I want for Christmas is you” by Mariah Carey as public enemy number 1. Ms. Carey seemed to embrace this villain’s role whole-heartedly by commanding her followers on social media to blare her song, beginning November 1st, ensuring that everyone would be sick of it long before the Savior’s birth. It appears some people really do love to watch the world burn…

But even if Mariah Carey’s ear worm doesn’t bother you, we all have a Christmas song or two we’ve heard a million times, which gets under our skin or seems to make no sense. These are often the songs we still sing along to but substitute our own lyrics.

For me, the Christmas song I simply don’t get is, “We Wish You a Merry Christmas”. Supposedly, the second verse says, “oh bring us some figgy pudding, oh bring us some figgy pudding, oh bring us some figgy pudding, and bring it right here.” This is pure nonsense. First of all, what in the world is figgy pudding? Have any of you had it recently…or ever? I have not and I don’t think it exists. I believe the proper words to the song, the ones I always sing when I hear this tune are, “Oh bring us some freakin pudding, Oh bring us some freakin pudding, Oh bring us some freakin pudding, and bring it right now.” If you listen to the entire song, this makes complete sense and fits the spirit of words which are downright aggressive and threatening. In fact, the next verse raises the belligerence-factor big-time as they taunt the hearer, “we won’t go until we get some, we won’t go until we get some, we won’t go until we get some, So bring it right here.” This is definitely the attitude of someone who would say, give me some freakin pudding”!

Understandably, you might be wondering what this rant has to do with our celebration of the Baby Jesus. Just like some of these Christmas songs, if we don’t know what the words are or what they mean, we cannot make sense of why we sing them. In the same way, for many people, even for many Christians, the “what” and the “why” of Christmas is not entirely clear. For many good-hearted souls, the celebration of Jesus’ birth is a time to gather with friends and family, relax, exchange gifts, and enjoy fine food and drink, which are all good things. But they are not the reason we celebrate. Why does this matter? If we do not understand the “what” of Christmas, then we will not understand why it is so important and why it should bring us so much joy.

Ever since the beginning of time, ever since the first humans Adam and Eve sinned against God in the Garden of Eden, the human race had been alienated from God through original sin. Each generation that followed, suffered the wounds and sadness that evil and death brought. Humanity had incurred a debt it could not repay and heaven was closed to all. But God promised to rescue us. Despite humanity’s tendency, over and over again, to turn our back on the Creator, our loving God would not give up on us. He slowly laid the foundation for our salvation, by revealing himself through his Chosen People, delivering them from slavery in Egypt, establishing an everlasting covenant, and helping them to grow in wisdom, holiness, and love with the help of the Law and Prophets. 

But these things could only go so far. When the time was right, God proved his love beyond a shadow of a doubt by sending his Only Son to become one of us. Incredibly, he humbled himself by becoming truly human while remaining fully divine. He wanted to be like us in all things except sin, so he could serve as our ransom from sin and death. Jesus is the key that re-opened heaven, the lamb who takes away the sin of the world, the price that was paid to cancel the debt of human sin and wickedness. We see little hints of this in the Scriptures’ description of the nativity. For example, Jesus was placed in a manger, which was used to feed the animals. It was a sign that he would soon feed us with his own body and blood in the Eucharist. Also, he was wrapped in swaddling clothes, which was a foreshadowing of how he would be wrapped in burial clothes after his saving sacrifice on the cross. Even as a tiny, helpless, innocent baby, Jesus begins his mission of salvation. He is the only person who was born to die, who lived so that he could lay down his life!

This is the “what” of the Christmas mystery and it is the reason why we celebrate it so extravagantly every year since. Without the humble birth of our savior, without his life on earth, and his sacrifice on the cross that would follow, we would still be dwelling in darkness, captive to our sins and the power of death. We would still be crushed by a debt we could not repay; a force we could not defeat and heaven would be out of our reach. If we understand this, how can we keep from singing and celebrating?!

Today, let renew our spirit of thanksgiving to God for his love for us and for our world. God needs nothing from us and yet he gives us everything, including himself. As we celebrate Christmas this year, may we marvel at what we have received and why it is such a big deal. Then, perhaps, it will make a little more sense why we sing all of these Christmas songs, even the annoying ones, and why we must share tidings of gladness and joy!

Let God of Complaints, Focus on Jesus! (3rd Sunday of Advent, Year A)

 To listen to this homily, click here.

There are things every Catholic seems to share in common; one that comes to mind is the notorious “Catholic Guilt”. Others might be the fear of strict nuns in grade school or a crusty priest yelling in the confessional. Many more share the memory of playing CYC sports against rival parishes, attending lenten fish fries, or judging someone by which parish or high school they went to. But doesn’t every Catholic know the line given by a parent, teacher, or other elder in response to our complaining with the advice to “Offer it up”!!

As much as we hated hearing that phrase, which was most often translated into parent-speak as “stop complaining”, it seems to have come directly from both the Old and the New Testaments. In fact, one of the sins the Bible singles out for condemnation is grumbling against God and against each other. This might surprise us, especially today, when complaining is such a part of life, where everything is reviewed and judged. In fact, many people consider criticism to be a virtue, "how will things get better if I do not point out what is wrong?" There may be some truth in that, but we have to face the fact that the Scriptures are quite harsh against grumblers.

It was grumbling that brought God's wrath on the people of the Old Testament when they were in the desert. Humans have a terrible tendency to glorify the past, forgetting the bad and exaggerating the good. The Israelites did this when they longed for their old life in Egypt. They forgot that they were slaves there, literally worked to death, and only remembered the rich foods they tasted from time to time. They complained to Moses, "Why have you brought us up out of Egypt to die in this wilderness?...we hate this worthless food." This attitude is familiar to us as well; at some point we have done the same thing, looking past our blessings and focusing on what is not perfect or according to our preference.

It is common enough to complain, but it doesn’t take long before it becomes destructive. That is why James warns us today, "Do not grumble against one another, my brothers, lest you be condemned." In other words, the standard used for our personal judgment will be the same measure we used for those around us. How easy it is to complain about others and condemn their faults and failures while making excuses for ourselves and wanting to receive the benefit of the doubt!.

We waste a lot of time and energy complaining. Usually our criticizing does no good. In most cases, our joy is not taken but given away. And our complaints almost always involve a negative judgment on someone else or even a whole group of people. How rarely do we bother to speak with the person who is irritating us?! Instead we tell everyone except the person who could help solve the problem. No wonder St. James is so adamant that we refrain from doing it!

There is something all of us can do to reduce complaining. and bitterness. One of the main causes is envy. I see someone who has something I want and I become jealous. But instead of focusing on the person who has more, I could think about the person who has less. The truth is, the poorest person in the United States is richer than about 90% of the world’s population. And I would venture to say that most of us are nowhere near the poorest person in our country. No matter what difficulties and problems you and I may have, there is someone worse off, who might need our help, and who would love to have our problems. 

Very few people have had it as bad as the man in today's Gospel. King Herod had arrested John the Baptist and thrown him into jail. In those days, prisons were nothing like today. They had no tv’s or reading libraries. Prisoners did not get an hour to exercise in fresh air. They didn't have human rights advocates to defend them. On the contrary, the guards did all they could to treat prisoners cruelly and to make their lives as miserable as possible.

But John didn’t focus his attention on those abuses. When his followers bribed the guards to get a message to him, all John wanted to know was this: "Is Jesus the one to come?" John must have experienced a tremendous joy when he heard the answer:

"The blind regain their sight,
the lame walk,
lepers are cleansed,
the deaf hear,
the dead are raised.”

And most important of all: "the poor have the good news proclaimed to them."

Imagine how beautiful our lives would be if we could learn from John's example. No matter what our present suffering, no matter what trial we are going through, no matter what disappointment has come upon us, or who afflicts us, we found cause for joy. There is nothing to stop us from replacing complaining with rejoicing, from offering it up in a truly holy and happy way; St. John shows us how. He focused on Jesus. He saw everything in relation to him.

This is especially important in our families. Parents have to do their best to protect their children from negativity. You know this better than I, how negativity saturates so much of our world, how it is woven into social media and how young people measure themselves. It can sneak into our conversations and humor, how we talk with and about one another. We also have to protect our children from negativity regarding the Mass. We can start complaining about the music or the homily or even fellow parishioners. In the process we miss the incredible gift Jesus wants to give us: His Word, His own Body and Blood. It is like sitting down to a meal where everything has been prepared and provided for us, and yet we choose to focus on what isn’t perfect or to our liking. We get distracted by the minor stuff and miss what really matters.

Like John the Baptist we need to focus on Jesus. The hardships of prison, everything else that was wrong, he brushed it away to remain focused on what was most true; Jesus was the savior of the world and would not be defeated by sin, death, or darkness. John shows us how we can replace negativity with joy; how we can offer it up, knowing that something far better is just around the corner. Today we lit the third candle of our Advent. It has a rose color that signifies rejoicing. Our deliverance is very near. May we be among the poor who rejoice at this good news and reflect it to others.

Fearing the Lord Can Be a Delight! (2nd Sunday of Advent, Year A)

To listen to this homily, click here.

As the holidays approach, it’s hard not to think about the experience of giving and receiving gifts. When I was a child, it was all about quantity and receiving gifts from others! My joy was based on whether or not I got as many things as the people around me. The same applied for giving; more gifts equaled better job! With time and maturity, that has changed; so much so, that sometimes when family and friends ask what I want, I can honestly say I don’t need anything at all! And now, I experience more happiness in finding that perfect gift for someone else. It feels so good when you know you hit the nail on the head and you see the person’s face as they open your gift. As I think about the most profound gifts I’ve received, they share one thing in common. It’s not how much they cost or how enviable they were at the time; what made these gifts so special is that they were personal and thoughtful. They became part of my identity and shaped who I became. Such gifts include the chalices and vestments I use at Mass, many of the tools I use to create furniture, and the patient, generous introduction I was given to learning by good movies and books, and experiences of life-renewing hobbies like hiking. So many gifts which have shaped and formed who I am and how I see the world!!

Today’s first reading from Isaiah lists what we Catholics call the gifts of the Holy Spirit; divine treasures that God shares with us, not because he has to, but because he wants to. These spiritual gifts become part of who we are as his children, if we use them. Strangely enough, the most prominent gift listed is not generally considered the crowd favorite. The prophet says it is the fear of the Lord that will bring delight to God’s anointed. Even more so than wisdom, understanding, counsel, strength, and knowledge. But what is the fear of the Lord? Haven’t most of us been conditioned from an early age to approach God with confidence and joy? Is fearing the Lord some old-school theology where we see God as a terrifying, brutal, angry deity who will strike us down if we make one false move? Not at all! The holy gift of fearing the Lord is not based in terror or dread.

The fear of the Lord which is healthy, holy, and delightful combines the qualities of love and respect. It is “loving respect” and “respectful love.” To fear someone in this sense is to love them and respect them at the same time. We might see this more clearly if we look at it in the negative: where there is no respect, there is no love. This dynamic applies to all human relationships. Where there is no respect inside a marriage, there will be a lack of love as well. Where there is no respect in a family, there will be a shortage of love too. This can be especially helpful to our young people who are dating and entering serious relationships. No matter what someone says, no matter how smooth or romantic they are, if they do not respect you, they will not love you properly. Love and respect always go hand in hand.

So how does this apply to our relationship with God? Well, when I have a proper fear of the Lord, I choose to obey God and walk in his ways because I love him and want to please him. The fear of the Lord is an intentional and ongoing attitude that causes me to choose, again and again, to obey God even when it might be easier to do something else. I make that choice because I love God and want to please him. The fear of the Lord is not cringing fear or terror, which is respect without love. And it is not irreverent casualness, which is love without respect.

This principle is clearest in my mind when I think of my parents. Though they could be strict at times, I never doubted that they loved me. At the same time, I never forgot they were my parents and I was their son. I would have died before I called them by their first names and probably would have died if I had called them my “old man” or “old lady”. Whatever their faults, I wouldn’t talk about them here. Like most kids, I wanted to be like my parents and to please them. I looked up to them. I wanted to hear them say, “Son, I’m proud of you” and I consider myself blessed to know that they are. I love my parents and have never been ashamed to call them mom and dad, even now as a grown man.

Seen in that light, the fear of the Lord is not in conflict with love. It’s what real love is all about. A healthy sense of fear can be a positive motivation for doing right. It moves us not simply to behave for God but to be our best out of love for him. We approach God with a healthy dose of respect, knowing that although he needs nothing, he chooses to love us unconditionally and give us everything. Fear is reserved only for the things that would separate us from him, dread for our sins that hurt the heart of God who loves us without limit. This sort of loving respect is the basis of our relationship with God. When I choose to fear the Lord, I am choosing out of respect and love to do the things that please him. All that I do in my life comes back to this principle. The fear of the Lord is thus the most positive attitude you can have toward God and that is why it is the most delightful of all his gifts. 

In this advent season, let us be bold and ask God to give us every spiritual gift. Most especially though, let us ask to delight in the fear of the Lord, to love him and respect him so much, that we would never wander from him and only bring joy to his heart!

 

Let the Silence Wake You (1st Sunday of Advent, Year A)

To listen to this homily, click here.

Until the early 1980’s, the city of Pittsburgh had numerous steel mills which hammered out the city’s signature product day and night. The people near them got so used to the constant pounding that they slept through it. In fact, it lulled them to sleep. But one night an accident shut down one of the major mills. The pounding noise of production and business stopped. Guess what happened when there was nothing but silence? Everyone woke up!

Something like that needs to happen in our lives. We are surround by such noise and distraction that we have become like sleepwalkers, always in motion but not fully aware and alert. Such a state can be very dangerous! A recent estimate indicated the average American is exposed to anywhere from 6-10 thousand ads a day. Most prominent are the never-ending ads online and on social media; the scores of pop-ups and junk emails that are customized to our browsing history and previous purchases. There are still numerous ads and invitations on billboards and in print, on the sides of packages and even on clothing, in magazines and newspapers. The more passive and sleepy we are, the greater the ad’s impact. A couch potato or web surfer has little sales resistance to the impulse buy. 

As we begin Advent, Jesus is telling us to wake up. In today’s Gospel he invites people to get ready for the Second Coming. However, he does not warn them first about grave sins against the commandments, but rather about being too busy. He reminds them how, before the Flood, those that perished “were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage up to the day that Noah entered the ark." Those are normal, necessary, even praiseworthy activities - but they lulled people to sleep, a fatal sleep that rendered them unprepared when the flood came.

For most Americans December is the busiest month of the year. That busy-ness creates a dread which advertisers exploit. How often are we tempted to buy this one thing to give us more time, make our lives easier, or bring the calm and peace we desire? Why not go ahead and indulge, treat yourself, and then you will be happy?! So many products and services compete for our attention and money in a relentless cycle that is exhausting.

Surrounded as we are by soul-numbing noise and distraction and busyness, there is only one thing which can pull us back to life - the same thing which woke up the people of Pittsburgh: silence. Genuine silence can profoundly turn our life around and it was a key player in one of the  most pivotal moments of my life.

One of the most common things people ask me is how I received the call to become a priest. I can sum it up in one word: silence. I went on a weekend retreat with some high school friends during my freshman year. It was actually the final evening of the retreat and we were watching a movie together before driving back to St. Louis the next morning. During that movie, I felt something stirring inside, telling me to go to the chapel, to sit with God alone for a few moments. In that chapel, surrounded in silence by the presence of God, I heard his voice in my heart simply saying, “feed my sheep” and to do so as a priest. In the silence that call could be heard loud and clear. It was not something I heard with my ears but knew without a doubt in my heart. I have had my good days and bad days, my lazy days and crazy days, but I have always known this is what God wants me to do with my life. For me it began in a moment of profound silence and I go back to that encounter often for encouragement and comfort. Silence provided the space for God speak to me one-on-one, with nothing and no-one else between us.

 

Another man received his calling while alone, this time in a garden rather than a chapel. He was attracted to God, but always held back. For example, he famously prayed, “Lord, give me chastity, but not yet” because he enjoyed his sins so much, even as he knew, deep down, he was made for much more than passing pleasures. Then, in a moment of silence, Augustine heard a voice which said, Tolle et legge (take and read). At first he thought it was a child calling out in the garden and tried to tried to remember what children’s game had those words, take and read. But when he realized he was completely alone, he opened the Bible and fell on the verse we heard in today's second reading: "Not in carousing and drunkenness, not in sexual excess and lust, not in quarreling and jealousy. Rather, put on the Lord Jesus Christ and make no provision for the desires of the flesh.”

When he read those words he made a complete turnaround. Without reserve he dedicated his life to God, by following his law and explaining it to others. He became one of the most influential teachers the Church has ever known. St. Augustine continues to inspire many to this day and he enjoys eternal happiness with God in heaven. The catalyst for his greatness and his conversion began with the gift of God’s grace, which finally broke through his resistance, in silence. 

This Advent we recognize our time is short, that the moment to wake up has arrived. Now is the time to seek out a place of true silence to rouse our sleepy hearts and hear what God has been trying to say. Do not be afraid to enter the silence and to sit there for awhile, as awkward as it may feel. God has a personal message for you, an invitation, a word of hope, healing, and encouragement. May we give highest priority to making time and space for this sacred silence, knowing that it will lead to our highest happiness and reveal our role in God’s saving plan for the world! 

Jesus Reigns Over All (Christ the King, Year C)

 To listen to this homily, click here.

We humans tend to mark the beginning and end of things with special celebrations or ceremonies. Whether it is the birth of a child, graduation from high school, the start of a new year or one’s anniversary, these moments are observed with various rituals to acknowledge their significance. The same is true as we conclude one liturgical church year and prepare to enter another with advent. The final Sunday of the liturgical calendar marks the completion of another year by honoring Christ the King. This feast is relatively new in the life of the Church, founded in 1925 by Pope Pius XI for a very practical reason. At the time, a dictator named Mussolini seized control of Italy and a young man named Adolph Hitler was gathering support for the Nazi Party. Across the world, the economy was beginning to fail and peace was faltering only a few years after the devastating First World War had stolen the futures of millions of people. These were dark times and many were wondering if God was present or if evil had finally conquered the world. The suffering that touched the lives of so many also threatened to destroy their faith and trust in God. So Pius XI founded the feast of Christ the King to remind Christians that Jesus was in charge of the world and history, not evil people and their destructive plans. 

But it’s not just massive, globe-changing evils and events that shake the faith of God’s people. No matter who we are, we prefer a certain degree of stability and certainty, a measure of comfort and tradition. Change and loss can cause a personal crisis, especially when it affects areas of our life that give us strength and purpose. One of the most insidious and clever tactics satan wields against humanity is twisting loss, grief, and profound change to suggest that maybe God is not going to win after all. It sounds ridiculous to say, but doubt often circulates in my heart as I look at the world, our culture and even the Church, and wonder, can this be saved? How can this continue? Why does God allow this to happen?! The devil can also trick us into the other extreme, of making an idol out the way we’ve always done things. In this scenario, we avoid change at all costs, to the detriment of spiritual growth or renewal because we prefer comfort and consistency instead of the challenge and messiness that comes with the life of the Holy Spirit. 

In response to these timeless questions, our wise Church gives us a surprising gospel. We do not hear about the triumphant entry of Jesus into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday but instead the passage of Jesus hanging on the cross. At first, this gospel doesn’t seem to fit or help! Isn’t the cross a sign of Jesus’ defeat? Doesn’t it show the weakness and humiliation of our Lord and King? Shouldn’t Jesus be full of might and control instead of dying alongside two criminals?

But this is no mistake. The Church gives us this gospel to show the wisdom of God, which is infinitely wiser than human understanding. Divine wisdom which is often shocking and surprising, disruptive and uncomfortable. This gospel shows us true power and real kingship; how God can take the worst of what humanity can do and redeem it. A terrible thief becomes a saint; a broken and disgraced Jesus rises from the dead in glory. Old ways of seeing and believing are transformed and enhanced.

Here in St. Louis, we are undergoing a significant change in our local church that is sure to bring sadness, loss, disruption, and change. Which is not to say that such changes are unjustified or unnecessary. The numbers don’t lie: what we’ve been doing is no longer working. We are losing 5000 people every year—if you divide that across the archdiocese, that’s about 60 people from Incarnate Word each year, or 15-20 families. Gone from the Church. In the past, our approach was to make sure we had as many parishes as possible, if we built a church, people would fill it. But that’s no longer the case. Many people rightly ask, how does closing parishes encourage evangelization. But we could also ask, “how has keeping them open been working out for us? If an unchanging number of parishes is the key to evangelizing, then why are we losing 5000 people per year with them open? We might think of this as a spiritual Dunkirk; a time to retreat, regroup, and then re-engage.

It’s understandable to struggle with the decisions that are coming from this process; many may feel anger, experience doubt, or even the temptation to abandon the faith. The feelings themselves are perfectly normal but how we respond to them determines whether this change brings resurrection and life or fear and separation. Yes, it might mean more people here in Church on a Sunday. Yes, it might mean a more crowded parking lot, Yes, some folks might have to drive further to go to Mass. But if THOSE things are going to prevent us from practicing the faith, perhaps the bigger problem is not with this process but our faith? If we’re willing to plan ahead or endure inconvenience to go to a ballgame or shopping, but not to Mass—that’s something to work on.

I don’t say these things from a place of judgement or indifference. Whatever changes happen will require many sacrifices from the clergy too. I am anxious about what new models for parishes might look like, that I might be asked to leave you, and whether I have the competence and ability to be an effective pastor in a new framework. But I keep reminding God that he called me to be a priest at this time, so he must help me do what must be done. I also remember that I have questioned God’s plan many times before and he always seems to figure things out; if I am willing to let him lead!

Each of us has to make that same choice for ourselves. Will I trust God, knowing that he is Lord and cannot be defeated by any evil, human weakness, or challenge we face? Do I believe, that no matter how bleak things look, in the church or in society, that it is no problem for God? Do I realize, that God is not asking me to fix everything or right every wrong but he is calling me to live my faith fully and love the people around me in the same way he does? Am I willing to let God disrupt the way things have always been to infuse new life into what may have become routine and stagnant?

Ultimately, I am not asking you to love All Things New or pretend you have no questions or concerns. But here are three things I would ask you to hold onto as we move through this process.

1. Assume the best in others, especially our leaders. Give the Archbishop and his team the benefit of the doubt. (Story of care-giver in cottleville) The archbishop did not wake up one day and say, “how can I anger 400k Catholics for no good reason.” I believe the Archbishop is being a good shepherd, leading us through something difficult, towards something better that leads to renewal and growth in the long-term. 
2. Remember that what we choose to look for, we will see. If we look for the flaws and everything wrong with ATN and our spiritual leaders, that is what we will see. If we ask for God’s help to see the good and the opportunities, that is what we will find. It seems a little simplistic but it is true. So resolve to look for God’s hand in this process and do not foster a critical spirit!
3. Finally, we must never forget that the only one who can lose our faith is us. No one can steal it away, no matter how disappointed or frustrated we might feel about this process. Our parishes and schools are special; some of life’s most sacred moments happen in them and they become like people to us. But we shouldn’t forget that parishes and schools are a means to an end—not the end itself. When they no longer effectively evangelize and foster discipleship, then we need to give them up, for the sake of the larger mission. Each of us must make sure to take an active role in practicing and growing our faith and sharing it with others. We must avoid the trap of becoming consumer Christians, wanting the church to cater to us and give us what we want with little or no sacrifice. You and I are being invited to take ownership of our faith in a new way that will look different than it has for the last several generations. This is scary but also exciting, challenging but empowering. So long as we continue to believe and embrace what is essential to our faith, namely prayer and the sacraments, God will always provide what we need and there will always be reason to hope.

May we never forget the victory of Christ the King and may God bless his Church in St. Louis as we seek follow where he leads us towards new life and growth in our faith!

Love and Work=Happiness (33rd Week, Year C)

 To listen to this homily, click here.

Just in case you wanted to know, I did not win the giant powerball jackpot this week. If I did, I would be somewhere warm right now! It’s always funny to see how people get worked up with the massive drawings and how different news sites offer articles on what to do if you win. But what tends to be the number one thing people say they will do, if they hold the winning ticket? Almost everyone fantasizes about some scenario where they would quit their job, often in some dramatic or vindictive way. There is something deep within human nature that judges work to be one of the obstacles to personal happiness. If money is no longer needed or is in plentiful supply, is there any reason to work?!

In fact, the Thessalonians from today’s second reading had this very argument. Not because they had won the lottery or found some big pot of gold. The reason many of them had quit their jobs and stopped working is that they were waiting for Jesus to come back and initiate the end of the world. Their reasoning was simple and confident; Jesus seemed to say that he would be back soon so why bother with earning money and needless toil in the meantime. None of that would mean anything in heaven and just seemed like wasted time and effort!

St. Paul hears about it and goes nuts, for a couple of reasons. First of all, there is a practical problem. While these unemployed Christians were loitering around, waiting for some sort of rapture, they still needed to eat. So they were asking their friends, family, and neighbors for food. This was becoming a burden to the many hard-working Christians who decided to keep honoring their responsibilities until the mysterious moment that the Lord came back. Secondly, these leisurely believers had nothing else to do while they waited so they were becoming busy bodies, armchair quarterbacks, putting their noses in everyone’s business and stirring up trouble. There is a reason for the saying, idle hands and idle minds are the devil’s workshop. These folks were doing more harm than good and their assumption that Jesus’ return was just around the corner wasn’t helping them or anyone else. In fact it was was causing spiritual, economic, and relational harm to the whole community because they had ceased being contributing members of society.

St. Paul reminds them that when he came to preach the gospel to their city, he did not rely on them for anything. In fact, he earned his own keep as a tentmaker so he could buy his own food. He mentions that some of this work was drudgery, in other words, he didn’t do it because he loved it or because it was his passion but he did it because it was the right thing to do and it allowed him to be in the midst of the people he served rather than living some sort of entitled and exalted existence. His work, as ordinary and practical as it was, played a part in loving God and serving the people around him. It made him relatable and credible to the people he preached to.

Which gives us an opportunity to reflect on the view we have of our own work. Sigmund Freud, who had some truly strange and unchristian views, was once asked what he thought was needed for people to be happy. His response was simple: love and work. In fact, this is absolutely true, for every person, especially for everyone who follows Christ, these two things are necessary: healthy, loving relationships and meaningful work. Even before Adam and Eve turned away from God in the Garden of Eden, God wanted them to work. In the garden, their labor would reflect God’s own productivity and creativity and was the way they exercised their stewardship over creation. It was only after sin entered the world that work became difficult, unpleasant, and unfulfilling. But it was always part of his plan.

Work still has tremendous value for each of us. It is the primary way we exercise the gifts and talents we have received from God. Any honest occupation is the main way that we provide for our families and those who are less fortunate. Work makes it possible for us to support the charitable endeavors of our church and to make the world around us a little better than we found it. It is the typical channel where we live out our faith and provide a good example for others. Our work gives witness to the truth of the gospel and the gift of God’s grace; it can be done for the Glory of God and the good of others. It is important to note that work is not the same as a job; not all work is compensated with money or material things. Some of the most critical types are repaid by love alone, as we think about the countless and often-hidden contributions of parents, mentors, and other care-givers. Finally, work gives meaning to our lives and keeps us out of trouble. We are called to spend our days doing things with purpose and building up the kingdom of God. 

Does this mean that we should never rest or take a vacation? No! Is St. Paul and the Church encouraging us to be work-a-holics and never sit still? No! A little rest and relaxation are good and holy things. But if we find ourselves trying to avoid as much work as possible or dreaming of a life of leisure, we should know that such an existence will inevitably lead to restlessness, dissatisfaction, and temptations of every kind.

Today let us apply St. Paul’s words to ourselves and consider how we view our work. For a child, that might be our chores around the house. If we are a student, our work will be our studies. If we are a spouse and parent, that will be fulfilled by preparing meals, caring for the home, encouraging our family, and carrying out our profession with integrity, if we are older or retired, our work will be taking advantage of opportunities to help our family, volunteer, and offer prayer. Holy and meaningful work is anything that occupies our time and engages our energy, talents, and thoughts. May we imitate St. Paul, using our work as a way to serve others, give glory to God, and prepare for that day when Jesus returns in all his glory!

Eyes On You (31st Sunday, Year C)

 To listen to this homily, click here.

Unpack 1st reading: God is infinitely everything that is good, powerful, holy. We are nothing compared to him and yet… each of us and every thing on the earth, from the smallest grain of sand to the highest mountain, all exist because God wants it to. 

He is not an absentee Lord, he is present and passionate about all he has made. In fact, we are here in this very moment because God is thinking of us. If he would ever stop thinking of us or forget us for one second, we would disappear. How incredible that our existence is a reminder that God holds us in his mind even while we sleep or do other things where we cease thinking of him.

This awareness of us is deeply personal and unique, he thinks of each person individually, as if they were the only person he has made. And he loves what he has made and he practices patience, even as he sees us choose sin and other things that push us away from him. He sees but he waits, in the hope that we will come to our senses and choose freely to love him and all he has made.

This beautiful and shocking reading from wisdom is not some poem or symbolic writing; it is literally true as it relates to God’s greatness, power, patience, and individual love for everything and everyone he has made.

The first question such a scripture asks of us is this: “Do we accept and believe it?” Do we know in our hearts that God knows us, loves us, and sees us? 

The image that came to my mind when I was reflecting on this passage was something that I remember from my own experience growing up. This image of being seen as a child and the peace it brought me. I think all of you who are parents will know what I mean.

Children have this desire to be seen, to have the undivided attention of the people they love and admire, especially their parents, grandparents, teachers, and others who care about them. Perhaps it is on the playground, as they go higher on the swing or as they show their new skill riding a bike. How many times in our youth, did we ask mom or dad, to watch us do something, to look at us? And how many times they indulged us, even though what we were doing wasn’t nearly as great or exciting as we thought it was! I remember how comforting it was play outside as a child and to occasionally look back towards our house and see mom or dad, simply watching and looking back. Not as a judge or enforcer, but as someone who loved and cared. Their gaze was a sort of affirmation of belonging, of being held in their heart and protected. 

On the other hand, when children feel ignored, neglected, or forgotten, what do they do? They act up, they act out, —— not to be a jerk or cause trouble. They do so in the hopes that someone will notice and respond and show them that they are seen and cared for. Being noticed means you matter! It seems odd when you are responding in the moment as the adult. But even adults do the same thing. As we feel unimportant, unvalued or invisible, we do things that hurt us and others in the hopes of being seen and noticed. 

With that in mind, we can ask ourselves, if we truly believe that our God watches over us and looks on us with love, at all times and in all places? What might change in my life, if I believed, beyond a shadow of a doubt that God looked at me with love, every second of my life? If I believed that he sees me and knows me and loves me without limit or interruption? How might I treat others differently if I accepted that God looks at them exactly the same way?! In truth, I think most of us either forget that God is always present to us or we simply don’t believe that he could care that much and we often end up making choices that are cries for help, as if God was far away and disinterested.

One other dimension of God’s loving gaze that we might take a moment to ponder. When people know they are being watched over, they tend to act differently than when they think no one is watching. The knowledge that we are seen also keeps us honest, accountable, and on our best behavior. Ask any parent, teacher, or employer what happens when the people they guide know or at least think that they are gone for any length of time? Chaos, anarchy, and mayhem!!

When we realize God looks on us with love always and that he sees all we think, do, and say, might we consider our choices a little more carefully? Would we make different choices altogether? Would we tell different jokes, say the same things about others, entertain the same gossip or judgements, or drive the same, knowing that our Heavenly Father is present for all of it? This observation is not meant to be a fearful thing but to point out a truth that already exists. We can hide from others and from ourselves but God sees it all. In some way, we actually want that, to know that he cares that much. But if there are some areas of life that we would want him to look away, that is a point for prayer and conversion.

We see all of this playing out in gospel with the story of Zaccheus. Zaccheus has heard of Jesus and thinks what he needs to do is see Jesus. In truth, that is not what changes his life. He is transformed when Jesus comes to him, up in the tree, and sees him. The Lord looks at him and invites himself into Zaccheus’ home, which is a symbol also for his heart. Knowing that Jesus sees him, loves him, knows him, even with all his sins and mistakes, this sets Zaccheus free to be transformed and restored. On his own, he vows to make restitution and to live for others instead of himself. And that is the last we hear of Zaccheus in the Scriptures, which means he went on and did it. If he had not, we would have been told about it as a warning.

So there you have it; the power of God’s loving gaze. It is why we exist, it patiently loves us in all things and at all times. Once we lock eyes with God and accept his love, we will be transformed and set free, a freedom which not only benefits us but so many others as well. So, do not wait, do not turn your eyes away from the God who loves you. As we continue with the Mass, look deeply at the tabernacle, at the cross, at the host that is lifted up and know that God has already been watching you with mercy and love!

No Comparison (30th Sunday, Year C)

 To listen to this homily, click here.

    Wanted to start the homily by stating something extremely obvious: priests are people just like anyone else. Seems like a no-brainer but its funny how people can be thrown off when they see you grocery shopping, at the movie theater, or running around in jeans or other “normal people clothes”. A number of years ago, I was at the gym and this lady kept staring at me before finally coming up and saying, “Father, I didn’t recognize you without your clothes on!” I knew what she meant but suggested there might be a better way to say it that didn’t sound so bad.

This doesn’t just apply to wardrobes and shopping. We priests are subject to the same insecurities, comparisons, and competitions that every human struggles with throughout our lives. I thought of this when praying with today’s gospel parable where the pharisee replaces prayer with comparing himself to others.

What a dangerous thing it is to compare ourselves with one another?! I have struggled with this for most of my priesthood. When someone comes up and says, Father So-and-so is the best confessor, there is something in me wonders, “but what about me? Aren’t I a good confessor?” Or the inevitable, “Father What’s-his-name or deacon youngblood gives the best homilies”, part of me thinks, “Don’t you like my homilies? I try really hard too?” Many times, this comparison is unwanted and involuntary; I want to be happy for others, for the ways they excel and reach people differently than I do. But there is also a part of me that feels diminished or less because of their success. 

That tendency to compare myself to another, something I might do with my ministry and preaching, something that you might do with your income, career, physical appearance, family, or material things, well, it is a spiritual and emotional black hole that will end up consuming us and stealing our joy.

One of the blessings of my life has been being assigned with many gifted priests and deacons who have shown me that God showers his talents abundantly in many different ways. No one person has them all and never will. It is better for the church and for you that there is such variety. Apart from Christ, there is no perfect priest out there that we all have to imitate. I’ve had to learn that lesson the hard way by feeling that insecurity and insufficiency; by feeling that pang of jealousy and sadness when others are praised. 

But slowly, over the years, I have realized that those comparisons do not come from God. He does not put us in competition with each other when it comes to his love or gifts. His love is not based on how we rank against others or how well we perform in our vocation. His love is unconditional, complete, and existed long before we ever did.

This is hard concept for us to grasp because we are constantly judging ourselves against one another on so many levels: our appearance, our status, our wealth, our relationships, and yes, even our spiritual lives. 

But God never compares us to anyone. He has a completely unique and personal relationship with each of us and doesn’t care how we stack up to those we want to compare ourselves to. He simply wants to know how we choose to live and love with the gifts and graces he gives us. The judgement each of us receives will be between us and God, not in contrast with others. 

If I and if you can accept this reality, then we begin to delight in the giftedness of other people. It does not hurt us when someone has a talent or ability that we do not. They are not a threat or competition but rather a compliment to whatever light God has shared with us. Our happiness is not captive to our ability to rank above others and we are set free from the pettiness that is miserable whenever someone else succeeds or is praised! It is so freeing to let go of that insecurity and rejoice whenever someone else is praised!

The only person we can compare ourselves to is God, since we are made in his image and likeness. And every time we see ourselves in comparison to Him, the only honest and possible prayer will be that of the tax collector, “Lord, have mercy on me a sinner!”

Both the Pharisee and the tax collector have something to teach us because we have elements of each in our lives. The pride and self-righteousness of the pharisee are dangers for all of us. The sinfulness of the tax-collector, his greed, selfishness, and evil lifestyle are things that most of us struggle with in some way. In light of this, we can take away three important lessons from the parable:

First, it was not the lifestyle of the pharisee that got him in trouble nor the life of the tax collector that made him admirable. So, let us work to imitate the Pharisee in his commendable practice of regular prayer, fasting, and generous almsgiving. Let us seek to eliminate sin, in all its forms from our lives and strive to be righteous in every way.

Secondly, we should never forget the simple prayer of the tax collector. God is not won over by smooth-talking or elaborate words but rather by heartfelt and humble prayers. If we acknowledge our need for God and his mercy, we can be sure that he will grant us all that is necessary to be justified in his sight. Our prayers should always acknowledge that we are sinners in need of God’s mercy.

Lastly, we should remember that God simply wants us to place our trust in him. He is not impressed by how we stack up to others. It is not good enough to be better than others if we don’t place our complete trust in him. The parable shows us that God abandons those who believe they can exult themselves, and exults those who abandon themselves, if they abandon themselves to him.

So do not be proud and do not compare compare yourself to others! Let us humble ourselves in the sight of God and make the prayer of the tax-collector our own: “O God, be merciful to me a sinner.”

Say Thank You with Worship (28th Sunday, Year C)

 To listen to this homily, click here.

Story of sharing on Thursday mornings: tired, early, but important lesson:

No situation was ever totally good or bad, just like the people in them.

There was always a positive quality or takeaway along with something that could be improved.

Applying that same logic to the gospel today and the 10 lepers. It’s not just 9 losers and one good guy.

All 10 had a holy boldness; they were willing to reach out to Christ even though social convention and the Law of Moses commanded them to stay away. In fact Jesus and his friends could have stoned them for coming close. But they were not afraid to stick their necks out and ask for healing.

All 10 had some degree of faith. Jesus never does miracles like a David Copperfield show; if people do not believe, he cannot do mighty things. The fact that all 10 are cleansed, shows us that they all believed in him and what he could do.

So that is the positive we can find in all 10. And we can certainly understand their unconfined excitement to leave Jesus and go show themselves to the priests. Leprosy didn’t just kill a person, it also quarantined him or her from family, friends, and community until the time of their gruesome death. It was an isolating disease and it even separated a person from their faith because they could no longer enter the temple to pray. 

We all remember that feeling for 1.5 months where we could not go into our churches; imagine that for these poor souls as they slowly rotted away. Knowing they were doomed to die in misery, alone, uncomforted. Words cannot describe the joy and relief of being healed!

The first step in being allowed back into community and into worship, was to show themselves to the priests, who would declare them healed and cleaned and ritually pure. This then allowed them to re-enter society and re-unite with family and loved ones. No wonder they ran off and never looked back!

But one of them realized the miracle that had just happened and realized that only God could cure such a disease. Even more important than getting the thumbs up from the priests was to first thank God for this gift. 

How does the one thankful leper say thanks? It isn’t with a handshake, thank you card, or a fruit basket! He takes the time to go back to Jesus, falls to his knees, and worships him. The way to thank God is to worship him. To acknowledge his power and goodness and to praise him. 

When he does this, Jesus doesn’t say, “Don’t worry about it” or “please, you don’t have to thank me.” He accepts this act of worship and gratitude and then tells him to get up and go; this act of faith, gratitude, and praise has saved him.

The other 9 lepers are healed but not saved…there is a difference. Their lack of gratitude and their not taking the time to offer worship but instead moving on to other things, as important as those were, have led them to miss out on the greatest gift Jesus came to give: Salvation!

How do we apply this to our life?

We have been cleansed many times over throughout our lives. Sin is worse than any physical disease but like leprosy, it slowly consumes us and isolates us from God and others. Only God can cure it; we cannot save ourselves.

We have been healed the day we were baptized and cleansed every time we go to confession. On top of this, we have been given so many other gifts; some spiritual, some material, all more than we deserve and so many more than we realize.

So often, we have faith and that is why God is able to heal and bless us and work miracles in our lives. But then, like the nine lepers who ran off, we hurry on, from our divine healing and blessings, to our busy schedules without first returning to the Lord to thank him in worship.

This is why weekly Sunday Mass is so essential and required of each of us. Not as a rule to follow but as an acknowledgement and thank you to the Divine Physician who is so often helping and healing us. This is why taking time every day to count our blessings mindfully and to give thanks for what we have is so critical to a holy and grateful heart.

This is why there should never be a day where we don’t spend at least a little time worshipping Jesus in some form of deliberate prayer, whether that be with the Scriptures, in adoration, or some time-honored devotion where we return to the Lord and offer him the praise he is due. And that is why we should make every effort each week to pray and be present at Sunday Mass; it is the most pleasing and perfect act of thanksgiving and worship because we unite our prayers and offerings to the prayers and offering of Jesus; nothing could make the Father more happy. 

One last note about thanking and worshiping God. He doesn’t need it. We are not doing it to appease him or get on his good side. When we give thanks and give God the praise that he is due, it changes us. The act of worship does not change God but it re-orients our lives and our hearts to what’s good, right, and holy. That is why and how it saves us. 

When we give thanks, it's always good to be specific. I am grateful for my priesthood and the gift of spending the last 5 days with 200 other priests. I am thankful to be your pastor and for the many ways you help me to grow as I minister to you. I am grateful for my health and for my family; my friends and this beautiful season of fall. I am thankful for Fr. Sullivan’s quiet and holy example during these last 5 years and the many laypeople and priests who have formed me over the years.

Each of us has already been cleansed by Jesus death on the cross but our salvation is still being worked out. Jesus always does his part. But we have to receive that gift with faith and then return to him with grateful worship. As we continue our Eucharist today, a word that literally means, “thanksgiving”, let’s make sure and praise God for the many things he has done in our lives and in our families this week. Call to mind specific moments and blessings you have received, and say, “thank you.” By doing this, our faith will increase, God will be praised, and souls will be saved.

Spiritual Wasabi (27th Sunday, Year C)

To listen to this homily, click here.

Story of trying sushi for the first time. Warning that a little wasabi goes a long way!

The readings this weekend are all about faith and how a little of that can go a very long way! Faith can accomplish great things that seem impossible to others.

But what is faith? Often reduced to a caricature of one extreme or another.

1. faith is blind, naive, step off the cliff and hope for the best. ignore reason and look at it as a form of spiritual superstition. Sometimes see people who reduce their faith to a magical routine of reciting certain prayers, certain ways or who believe with no interaction or discernment on their part (story of guy asking help from the flood)

        B) Faith is for those who aren’t smart enough to understand. For the simple and old-    fashioned. Unscientific. Faith is considered below reason; either be reasonable and skeptical or faithful and gullible.

As with so many things, the truth is in the middle. 

Faith is not a passive thing where we just hope for the best as if we just placed an uneducated bet. Faith does not run against our reason/logic but uses it and then rises above it! Imagine how sad it would be to only have faith in the things you could completely understand or explain. Imagine if we only accepted the things that we had experienced and verified for ourselves. It would be exhausting and impoverishing to discard so much. 

Faith is much more than a mysterious unknowable thing or an intellectual exercise where we unlock the answers to all the questions we have.

Faith is an attitude of trust in the love God has for us, in the plan he has for our world and our lives, and our willingness, especially when things seem unknown and uncertain, to have confidence in the power, wisdom, and wisdom of our God. Faith is a living, dynamic relationship. It is also messy, with ups and downs, joy and sorrow, confidence and questioning. 

We see that in the first reading, where the prophet Habakkuk looks around at all the death and destruction, the turmoil and uncertainty and says, “lord, how long will this go on?” “Where are you in all of this?” “Why are you letting this continue?” In response, God says, don’t worry, sit tight, wait for me to make it right and solve the problem. I will keep my promise but it will be in my time, not yours. I can see further down the road than you can and what looks like total loss will eventually work out. It’s ok to have questions and to cry out to God but we also need to be willing to wait and see, to have trust and confidence that God will get us through whatever is testing our faith rather than demand he change things to the way we want them.

Faith also starts small. Jesus uses the image of a mustard seed which is about the size of a gnat or fruit fly. Faith is taking one thing at a time and not getting too far ahead of ourselves. One of the great examples of this is St. Francis of Assisi who we celebrate this week. He lived a life of extravagance and wild parties until he began to hear God’s invitation to grow in faith. it started with working on his own life and finding a way to think of more than just the next fun time. Slowly, one small step after the other, Francis built a relationship with God and the church, then he invited others into that faith, a few at first, then more and more, both men and women. Over time, that small seed of faith that changed his life also changed the church for the better. The Franciscan order is now 800 years old, stationed all over the world, and bearing good fruit on a scale Francis could never have seen or predicted. But it all started with his yes to live for more than riches and a good time. A little faith goes a long way…

One last point that I would make: faith is like a spiritual muscle; the more we exercise it, the more it grows. And if we do not exercise it, it will grow weak and die. 

At the end of the gospel today, Jesus reminds us that no matter what we do or accomplish through our faith, the glory belongs to God. He is the one who accomplishes all that happens. Faith is his gift and his work. There is nothing we can do or accomplish that would cause God to be in our debt. As long as we maintain this attitude of humility and turning it all over to God, the good and the bad, the glory and the shame, the highs and the lows, we can be sure that our faith will grow and we will be in the right place to receive what God has ready for us. It may take longer than we like, it may look different than what we imagined, but our trust and confidence in God will be rewarded with the things that we need to enjoy the things we have right now but more importantly, the things that are yet to come in the kingdom of God. 

So let us join the apostles today and pray that the Lord increases our faith. Just a little will go a long way and accomplish things that we and the world never thought possible!

 

Use Your Gifts for Mercy (26th Sunday, Year C)

 To listen to this homily, click here.

The Gospel of Luke is often called the Gospel of God’s compassion, the Gospel of the lowly being raised up. St. Luke was a physician, trained to comfort and heal those who were afflicted, and he couldn’t help but highlight the mercy of Jesus in his account of the Lord’s’ life. Each us should be challenged today by the parable of Lazarus and the Rich Man. The parable is not meant to condemn those who have worked long and hard for their financial gains. It is not meant to dump on the rich. The parable is meant to help us recognize the responsibilities that go along with our blessings. This story calls us to examine whether or not we are good stewards of God’s gifts and how we use what we have.

One of the dangers of riches is that they can make us feel self-sufficient and become self-absorbed. Once we can provide for ourselves and have what we want, it becomes easier to focus only on ourselves. Another danger of acquiring wealth is that there is no limit to it. No matter what we have, we always want more and there is already someone else who has more than we do! This is the criticism of the prophet Amos in the first reading. The rich of his time are sleeping on beds of ivory. Think of all the poor elephants such beds would condemn! More importantly, it is taking something that was considered a treasure in small quantities and making it absurd. The same is true of their wine-drinking; there is nothing wrong with having a glass of wine. These fools had so much of it, they were drinking it out of bowls; which was a sign of their excess and their shamelessness in living life completely over the top. Their lifestyle made them oblivious to the suffering and need of those around them. Because of this blindness, they are condemned.

The same is true of the rich man in the gospel parable. His blindness is what lands him in hell, not his wealth. However, by using his wealth only for himself, he became completely unaware of poor Lazarus, who would have been happy with the leftovers the rich man didn’t even want. Lazarus is completely invisible to the rich man. He didn’t see him as a fellow human being, deserving of help and compassion, regardless of the reasons that landed him in such desperate circumstances. 

As people who live in the richest nation on earth, we are at risk of this same blindness. Who is invisible to us? The poor, the unborn, the immigrant, the prisoner, the lonely, the disabled, the mentally ill, the elderly? How many people do we pass by who are reaching out, who are longing for something from our table, and we don’t even realize they are there, much less that they are starving and suffering? As a people of faith, the greatest thing we have is our relationship with God. We are surrounded by so many spiritually starving people, people who have many material possessions but still feel utterly empty, depressed, unloved. How often do we share our spiritual riches with others? How often do we pray with and for someone? How willing are we to enter into deeper discussions than simply the weather or sports? Can we sit and listen or are we always on to the next thing? I wonder if many of us catholics are like the rich man in the sense that we dine sumptuously here at the table of the altar. We receive the body of Christ, the bread of life, which is worth more than any earthly treasure, and yet we are so often hesitant to share any of that richness with others. This spiritual generosity is far more important that how much money we give to the poor, as noble and necessary as that is. 

This spiritual blindness is just as real today as it was when Jesus preached this parable. We have to work to maintain our spiritual vision and remain aware of those around us who are suffering and starving, physically, spiritually, mentally, or emotionally. Without an active habit of stewardship, generosity, and self-denial, we will quickly become like the rich man: oblivious, self-absorbed, and deserving of condemnation.

To wrap up this up, let me offer you a real-life instance of this parable that happened during World War II. You might already know the story but the similarities are uncanny, at least until the end; the end is very different because of grace and conversion.

In 1939, a German businessman joined the Nazi Party and he immediately began to get rich from the Nazi invasion of Poland. He took possession of a factory, seized from Jewish owners, and began the manufacture of various products. To increase the margin of his profit, he arranged to have his factory manned by hundreds of Polish Jews, essentially as slave labor. During this time, he enjoyed great financial success and spent much of his time, money, and energy endearing himself to various high-ranking German officers and members of the local government. Then, in 1942, this businessman witnessed a raid on a Jewish ghetto in Krakow and was struck by the cruelty of the soldiers to the people living there. Furthermore, he was appalled that many of them were his own factory workers and were rounded up and taken away, only to be murdered in concentration camps. 

Because of what he saw, this wealthy businessman, a member of the Nazi party, experienced a change of heart and began to use his wealth to help his workers in need. Over the next few years, he would use his influence, his money and his energy to bribe officials and save the innocent lives of over 1000 Polish Jews, whom he called “his children”. By the end of the war he was practically broke, having invented numerous jobs and bribed many officials to protect as many persecuted Jews as possible. That man was Oscar Schindler and his noble efforts were made famous in a movie called Schindler’s List.

Although this rich man was imperfect and had some serious faults, he allowed his heart to be changed and used his wealth for mercy. And after the war, when he no longer had anything, he received mercy and assistance from the very people he had helped.

May you and I share our spiritual and material riches freely instead of keeping them to ourselves. May our eyes be opened to the needy and hurting who are all around us. With God’s grace, we can avoid the horror of spiritual blindness and become good stewards who enjoy not only the blessings of this life, but more importantly the everlasting blessings of the life to come.