Sunday, November 25, 2012

Homily for the Week of November 25, 2012

Feast of Christ the King, 2012 First Reading: Daniel 7:13–14 Responsorial Psalm: Psalm 93:1, 1–2, 5 Second Reading: Revelation 1:5–8 Gospel: John 18:33b–37 This week I was talking to one of my priest friends who mentioned that one Sunday he made a grand gesture and he accidently swept his sermon notes off the pupil and onto the floor. After he picked them up and tried to reassemble them, the congregation heard him say to himself: Now, where was I. One member of the congregation answered back: Right near the end. Now this has no connection with what I intend to speak on today, but I thought it was funny. This special Mass in Honor of Christ the King can leave most of us wondering what does it mean. We in the United States have never been much for kings. Our nation began with a nasty war to free us from a king. Yet there’s something about royalty that fascinates us. Princess Diana and Prince Charles repeatedly captured the world’s attention. In the United States we watch with interest the doings of Queen Elizabeth. High School students still appoint members of their Junior class to be King and Queen of the Junior Prom. It may be that the lives of kings and queens represent a fairy-tale-like image of the good life that we just can’t help dreaming about. For poor people when the Bible was written, the notion of a kindly king who has the good of the people at heart may have held just as much attraction. When one’s life is a constant struggle, believing in a powerful king fuels hope and gives a reason to keep plodding on. Yet so very, very often our prayers use the image of king and kingdom. In the OUR FATHER we prayer your kingdom come, your will be done on earth as it is in heaven. At funerals we pray that the person will enter the kingdom of God. We often end our prayers through Jesus Christ our king. Because of this you and I find it always difficult to see Jesus as a King. The image of KING is not one that appeals to our imagination or even our mind very much. Catholics in many other countries have a different viewpoint. And also a different spirituality based on Christ the King. For example our neighbors in Mexico don’t share our misgivings and indifference. The Mexican people are just as proud of their revolution, just as proud of their democracy, just as scornful of royalty as we are. Still, they have a great love for Christ the King. However, kings and royalty would not have seemed usual to Jesus. Political power in Palestine at the time of Jesus was with the King of Rome and his local governor, King Herod. Jesus crossed paths very often with King Herod. The Romans made Herod the King of Palestine about 50 years before Jesus was born. Herod built the temple in Jerusalem where Jesus prayed and taught. He was the king of Bethlehem when Jesus was born. He was the King of the Jews who heard that the new born baby Jesus was going to be a King, so Herod ordering that all young males living in Bethlehem would be killed. Herod’s son Pilate was king of Galilee where Jesus lived. He is the one who had John the Baptist killed. So it would not be surprising if Jesus had anything but hatred for kings, but it seems he didn’t. As an educated and devout Jew, Jesus knew how important kings, both good ones and bad ones, had been in Jewish history. He knew that the Jewish people would have a savior who was a descendent of the lovable King David. The Old Testament is filled with references to a ruler who is to come. Daniel in our first reading speaks of a person who is to come to give people victory over sin and death. By the time the Book of Revelation was written, that person became an historical person. The early Christian community that first heard the words of Revelation associated any reference to this person as being the person of Jesus Christ. Our Gospel passage can be a bit frustrating for us because we want Jesus to stand up for himself. We want Jesus to be clear with Pilate and with the Jewish authorities and chief priests about who He is. We want Jesus to be like an American hero who, having taken all the abuse he can take, comes out with guns blazing to set the world in order. This not only does not happen, in this story the hero dies. In this Gospel reading we find Jesus on trial. He is bound and handed over to be tried in court. Pilate is the prosecuting attorney. Jesus is his own lawyer trying to defend himself from the title KING OF THE JEWS. which Pilate hated. KING OF THE JEWS meant one thing for Pilate. It meant another thing to Jesus and his followers who were longing for an earthly kingdom. The Jews saw in the title ''King of the Jews'' a religious reality while Pilate saw a political one. But Jesus was also trying to teach his followers -- the early Christians who were at one time Jews. For thousands of years the Jews had prayed that God would establish his kingdom on earth. God had told them many times that the kingdom would be in heaven. But they forgot or did not understand. They had substituted an earthly kingdom which would replace the kingdom of King David. Jesus is trying to tell Pilate and the Jews that his kingdom does not belong to this world. Jesus says he is king where truth resides. He is the king of human hearts. Whether or not we call Jesus our king, spiritually we must have the faith to place our lives under his authority. We must freely allow him to rule us. Unlike Herod and Pilate and other kings, Jesus does not rule with a sword or a gun, but with the power of love. It is the only power that can bring a real sense of freedom - a freedom from sin. Jesus has come to make up for anything which we cannot handle. He came to teach us about God. Jesus was simply a witness for us of the power and love of God. He showed us this power by the way he lived. This is how we are to understand this feast of Christ the King. Jesus threats us with love. Perhaps the only ones who would fear Jesus would be those, who like Pilate, want to be control others. Again, we must ask ourselves what does it mean for we Catholic Americans to call Jesus a king? Is Jesus my king only when I am in church, or does He remain my king wherever I might be? Does my piety in church travel back home with me or to work with me or to school with me or when I am with my friends? Do I profess my faith in church but show little sign of it anywhere else? Living with Jesus is not like living with a president who is here for a few years then gone. Jesus is king all of the time and in all places. We must see the way that Jesus sees. We must try to live our daily life with the values and love of Jesus. If we do, when our earthly life is ended, we will then be ready to live in our first kingdom: the kingdom of God which is known as heaven.

Sunday, November 18, 2012

Homily for the Week of November 18, 2012

Thirty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time, 2012 First Reading: Daniel 12:1-3 Responsorial Psalm: Psalm 16:5, 8, 9-10, 11 Second Reading: Hebrews 10:11-14, 18 Gospel: Mark 13:24-32 Human beings have always tried to answer the question: When will the world end? And there have been about as many different answers as there have been those asking the question. Throughout history, end-of-the-world movements missing their mark number in the "hundreds of thousands at the very least. A blockbuster movie named 2012 was released in movie theaters November 13, 2009. The movie tells us that the world is coming to an end on December 21, 2012 as predicted by the Mayans. That date is not based on a specific prophecy, but the end of their calendar which is about to roll up. The Mayans of Guatemala and Mexico viewed time and the concept of time different than we do. We’re linear in our time and we think of time as a timeline with a beginning point and an end point. Time for the Mayans was very much a cyclic pattern based on the sun. Bible writers have also tried to tell us when and what will happened at the end of the world. From reading or listening to the Bible readings over the years you must be convinced that Jesus reminds us that the choices we make in this life will determine what is ahead for us in the next. But our culture believes somehow everyone will end up happy in God’s heaven. If that were the case why would Jesus have spent so much time telling us how we ought to live our life right now. In today’s first reading and the Gospel, we are given two different biblical writers who reflect on the end times. Both are writing for a people under a lot of pressure, a people who may feel that the trials and tribulations they are undergoing are the signs of the end time. Will there be something beyond this earthly life? The ancient Israelites thought there was not. Some believed they would merely live on in the memories of their descendants. Some spoke of Sheol, the shadowy underworld in which a shade of the former self survived. It was only in the second century B.C. that the belief in resurrection and an eternal reward for the righteous began to emerge. Daniel also mentions “everlasting horror and disgrace” for the wicked, but he focuses his attention on what happens to those who have lived wisely and who have led others to seek and do justice. He envisions these people as shining brightly. He says they will be “like the splendor of the firmament...[they] shall be like the stars forever.” In today’s Gospel Jesus speaks to his disciples about the things that will happen at the end of time. The light of the sun and moon will be extinguished with the stars falling from the sky. Against the backdrop Jesus interjects the assurance that he will come again in power and glory, gathering his elect from “the end of the earth to the end of the sky.” We think of Jesus as being young, but Jesus, about thirty when he began his public ministry, would have been in the oldest 10 percent of the population. Rather than being seen as a young rabbi, Jesus would have been seen more as a wise old teacher. In that day, disease and malnutrition were so common that only one in five children lived past their first birthday. Most parents were dead by the time children reached the age of 16. This context of life being so short is another context for our passage today that gives us some the last things Jesus said. Jesus gives us an image of a tender green shoot at springtime, one that bursts forth from the fig tree. Stripped of its leaves and giving every appearance of having died, its life tenaciously sprouts forth anew, much like the yellow dandelions blossom or crocuses that seem to blossom overnight after being dormant all winter. And so Jesus assures us that no matter what horrendous suffering we endure, life will rise again in us through his power. In the Gospel there is no reference to punishment of those who are not faithful, only of gathering in all his scattered “elect.” The question of when all this will take place hangs unanswered. There is a tension in the Gospel. Jesus first says that it will happen in the lifetime of “this generation,” but then he asserts that no one knows the day or the hour—not even he—but only God the Father. Being followers of Jesus does not exempt us from ordinary problems of human life. Yes, there will be sickness, there will be auto accidents, our homes may be hit by lightening, marriages may break up. Jesus never told his followers how to avoid trouble. Instead, he tells them how to prepare for it. If Daniel's words do not persuade us that rescue and redemption are ours, the reading from Hebrews should. The author points out that Christ's sacrifice for us was not only perfect and true, but once and for all. It is important for us to realize that the great challenges of our life are not a punishment for our sins or an indication that God has forgotten us. After we have tried out every solution we come to the conclusion that nothing helps but our faith in a loving God. The reality of death is probably the last thing we want to consider as we approach Thanksgiving and Christmas, but this is exactly what the Church is asking us to do. The Church does not want to make us afraid. This is not what Daniel was trying to do and certainly not what Jesus was trying to do. Both offered the cold reality that tribulations and ends were coming, but both of them also put these realities in the context of hope. This world is only our temporary home. We are all made for something greater than this life.

Sunday, November 11, 2012

Homily for the Week of November 11, 2012

THIRTY-SECOND SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME, CYCLE B: 2012 1 Kings 17:10-16; Ps 146; Heb. 9:24-28; Mark 12:38-44 On April 11, 2009, an unknown unemployed 47 year old woman took the stage of the television talent show: Britain’s God Talent. She was awkward on the stage, filled with nervous fear as she walked out to the small piece of tape marking her spot at center stage. She faced an audience that was used to beautiful young talent, and three judges to evaluate her. She was an unappealing contestant, if ever there was one. But as the muffled laughter of the audience quieted down, Susan Boyle opened her mouth and out poured the haunting lyrics and melody of I Dreamed a Dream from Les Miserables. It was a powerful and confident voice that seemed it did not belong to the body from which it sprang. And as she sang the audience was transformed to converts and believers. They listened with stunned silence for a few seconds, and then burst forth in a standing ovation throughout the rest of the song. At that moment the dream that Susan Boyle dreamed actually came true. It is a great story. From rags to riches. An unknown who becomes a YouTube sensation overnight. She makes us wonder this weekend when the Bible speaks of the poor and unknown who make a difference. It also makes us wonder how many heros and champions are living right among us, lacking only their chance to show the world their hidden gifts. What great business ideas fail to be born for lack of enough money. What leaders remain in the back of the room because they do not have the courage and hope to keep trying after early defeats. What loving hearts stay locked up in loneliness rather to risk opening up after experiencing betrayal or bereavement. What great novel or music remains unwritten because the author cannot face another round of rejection slips. But sometimes the most important moments in the human story do not happen on center stage, and they are not captured on YouTube. Some of the greatest stories are not played out in front of thousands of adoring fans, nor affirmed by thunderous applause. This might be the patient caregiver who tirelessly tends to the physical and emotional needs of a single bedfast patient or family member. Or a person with very little money who nonetheless opens their heart and their wallet to share with another person even less fortunate than they are, or who drops a single coin in the collection basket. These are the silent, unknown champions of the human spirit. Because of their faithfulness the world turns and God’s goodness is made known. Our Bible readings for today tell us the story of two unlikely champions, both widows, both who were heros of faith and generosity. At the time the Bible was written widows were at the very bottom of the economic ladder. In the first reading today, there is a story of a widow who is down to her last handful of flour and a tiny bit of oil. She is just about to try to make something for her son and herself to eat, certain it will be their last meal. While gathering sticks at the entrance of the city, the widow encounters Elijah, who asks her first for a cup of water and then for a bit of bread. She explains her situation, and Elijah’s response seems initially to be incredibly insensitive. He asks her to bring him a little cake, even before she prepares something for herself and her son. What the biblical author does not recount is the kind of conflict such a request must have produced for the widow. Should she trust Elijah’s God, who insists that her jar of flour will not go empty nor the jug of oil run dry? Or should she follow her motherly instincts to feed her child first? The obligations of hospitality win out; she gives all she had to live on. Miraculously, the prophet’s promise of a never-ending supply of flour and oil comes true. In the Gospel Jesus tells us about another widow who came into the Jerusalem temple one day just a week before Jesus would be nailed to a cross. At the entrance were several trumpet shaped metal containers into which people tossed coins. Those who had lots of money tossed in many coins and this made lots of noise. But a widow comes in, tosses in 2 small coins, the only money that she had. As far as we know, she didn’t even know that Jesus was watching her. But Jesus did notice her. Jesus knew that these two small coins represented her entire net worth. It was all the money she had. And Jesus said to his surprised disciples that her gift was the largest one given, because she gave her very life. It was the same thing Jesus would do later that week on the cross. These two widows gave away what they had. These two widows did not give of their left overs, but what they needed to live. Our first and third readings of today demand of us that we turn around society. We are called to open up pathways and doors of opportunity. Jesus demands of us that. He cautions us that we not be like the money makers of the society who often invite us to invest with them or to buy their goods often persuading those who can least afford it. These scribes were good at telling others what to do. For the widow, giving was not to impress others, but an expression of the love of God and love of others. Our American culture invites us to make sure we receive more than we give. Too often we identify poverty with lack of money. But the first beatitude of Jesus says: Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of heaven. The glass that is full can receive no more. It is only the empty glass or cup that can be filled. If we find ourselves filled with everything that is not of God, then it is difficult for God to empty our lives. We become completely attached to material things. There is nothing bad in having possessions and money. But poverty of spirit allows us to detach ourselves from always wanting more and newer and newer, or having what someone else has. Too often we associate what we have to material things. But we are also a spiritual person with a spiritual and religious life. Our faith is also a gift that comes from God. Most people intend to take care of their material things including their money. They are usually proud of what they have. Most people lock up their house, put their money in safe places. They intentionally do this. They get advice from others to help them. Are we equally attentive to our Catholic faith? How well do we take care of it, and make it increase in our life? How well do we make our Catholic faith our own, or do we still believed that it was grandfathered to us -- passed down from our parents or grandparents? The widows were not told what to do. It was part of what they believed their faith in God wanted them to do. After the final blessing of the Mass, the priest says to you: GO IN PEACE TO LOVE AND SERVE THE LORD. To which you respond: THANKS BE TO GOD!

Sunday, November 4, 2012

Homily for the Week of November 4, 2012

HOMILY: 31ST week in Ordinary Time, B 2012 Deu 6-2-6; Ps 18-2-3,47; Heb 7:23-28; Mk 12: 28-34 A political race for President of the United States ultimately comes down to two persons, squaring off through a marathon of campaign stops and speeches seeking to win the hearts and hopes, and the ultimately the votes, of the American people. But a year ago,before the two major political parties fielded their respective candidates for the general election, there was a larger list of hopeful candidates. But in the end the presidential race comes down to just two. But this is the way we like it. We prefer things to be simplified, reduced to choices between few options. Somehow, an ultimate finale between two finalists who have survived the winnowing process, to stand in the last test for the prize, seems like the best and clearest way to settle a complex race. And it is not just in politics that we like this reduction to a final two but in also in high school sports such as football or basketball or soccer. We need a smaller number in order to capture our imagination, to focus our perspective, and to inspire a passionate debate. In the days of Moses, according to our Old Testament reading for today, God gave the people of Israel many commandments to help them know God's heart, and to follow in His ways. These commandments and laws were intended to serve as a blueprint, or a set of instructions, a moral GPS, guiding and guarding God's people through the world. They also helped to distinguish individuals as special people after His own heart. But in the five books of Moses there are 613 unique and distinct commandments given by God through Moses to the people. Try to imagine how you would remember 613 laws or regulations. So the instruction booklet started sounding a bit cumbersome. And so God, knowing our preference for summaries and simpler reductions of complex matters, narrowed the entire its 613 laws to just ten great commandments. He wrote this "Top Ten" out on two tablets of stone, and gave them to Moses to give to the people. It is easier to wrap our minds around 10 commandments, than to memorize 613 laws. But God was not through reducing and summarizing His set of instructions with just this Top Ten. In today's reading from Deuteronomy Moses is instructed to give the people a single sweeping summary of the entire law. Here it is: The Lord is our God, the Lord alone. Therefore you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and all your strength. As you might expect, that single sentence carries great weight for those who would be God's people. And to this very day, this phrase ,called the Shema, is repeated every day by faithful Jews. Orthodox Jews write this phrase in small scrolls and place it on the doors of their homes, or in small pouches worn on their arms and around their heads. All of this is to physically remind them, every time they pass through their front door, or stretch forth their hand, or look out into the world, that they are marked by their obedience to this single sentence summary of how God wants them to live. In fact if you remember or were to read the first three of the Ten Commandments you will find that these first three commandments tell us to love God with our whole heart, soul, and strength. The remaining seven of the Ten Commandments talk about what it means to live in loving relationship with one another: honoring parents, no killing, no adultery, no stealing, no lying. Clearly God did not think it was possible to love Him correctly, or completely, in isolation from the way we relate to each other. In fact most of the 613 laws were given to show us in specific details of how we are to live in love with one another. And so we are now to the Gospel which I just read. By the time when Jesus was meeting people in public a law student of the asked Jesus which was the "first" commandment, that is, which is the most important one. How did Jesus reply? Jesus replied by quoting the Shema from Deuteronomy, our first reading, but then added a quote from the Bible book of Leviticus, as if it was a continuation of the same "first" commandment. The quote was: And you shall love your neighbor as yourself." When you think about it, this phrase summarizes the last seven of our Ten Commandments. So the 613 rules are summarized in just Ten Commandments. And even those ten are summarized in just two great commandments, according to Jesus. Jesus ties these two great commandments into one: Love God, love your neighbor. It is as simple, and as profound, as that. Jesus places the love of neighbor in the same category as the love of God These two dimensions - love God and love one another - are two directions of love that are the absolute minimum of God's plan for our lives. These are the twin towers of loving. They are inseparable actually, like giant sequoia trees growing from a common root, since we cannot really love God and despise each other. And we cannot adequately love our each other without the grounding anchor of love for God. Love for God in isolation from love for the neighbor is empty piety, a mere theoretical form of religion that makes no difference in this world. But equally so, those who would serve and love the world apart from the foundation of love and obedience for God, are not able to sustain their desire for good works over the long haul. It all comes down to two. Two paths of love----one pointed vertically to God, toward the heavens; and the other pointed horizontally to humanity, toward our neighbor. Where they meet they form a cross. A cross, where the two beams of love were fastened by a single life poured out for the love of God and for the love of the world. And that is why we make the sign of the cross as we pray. It is why a crucifix is displayed so prominently in our places of worship. We are people marked, and redeemed by the twin beams of love that cross in Jesus. Many civil organizations and programs exist to help people in need. Billions of dollars are spent by political officials to show caring for those in need. But these efforts often leave people feeling empty, hurt and lonely. It is because they are not empowered by the love OF God, and the love FOR God that is seen in the love of our neighbors. Without such love, efforts to help others are cold and impersonal. Our care for others must give love a human face, the face of Jesus, always promoting human freedom and dignity.