Sunday Readings

Human Saints

For some reason, late night movies and less-frequented time slots have been replaced with endless infomercials. These are half-hour simulated talk shows that hawk a product based on two principles. The first is a presentation of supposed scientific research given by a questionable researcher or actor. The second is the testimony of folks who have used the product and whose lives have been changed because they did. If a celebrity (or some one who looks like one) adds to this testimony, we believe them more than the science. We just accept real live endorsements over the most apparent evaluations.

If we believe that God is good and saves us, it helps if we have the witness and testimony of those who have personally known it. And today that is what we have in Peter and Paul. But we are not hawking a scam or a scheme. And what they demonstrate is more than a product endorsement. They are preaching a deliverance of the ultimate quality. They are living proof of salvation by grace.

Peter denied Christ and Paul violently persecuted His Church. Peter waffled as a leader and Paul was over-bearing. In their documented flawed humanity, they also embodied the power and effect of what they preached. Peter saw the Divinity of Christ and Paul held it up for the world to see. At the end of their lives, they both could say that God had delivered them even as they stood ready to be martyred. They could proclaim with their very lives that it was worth it all.

And that is where we – and the world – have a problem. We can rightly ask if they are correct: how can they say God is a faithful deliverer if they are going to be martyred? Sure God saved them in prison, but they are back in. Where are the angels and the marvelous lights now? How can we believe in a God who is not powerful enough to save them – and us?

You can’t if you want a God to do only what you want. You can’t be satisfied with Peter’s Christ and Paul’s Lord if you are looking for a God who does only out bidding. The true God is found in, and not above, the conflict. This is the Christ of the Cross not the God of the ATM. His grace is a wonderful mystery and not a quick-fix of convenience. These two could see in moments of deliverance a more eternal salvation. They could see the promise of what they preached as things started to fall apart. They could run the race grateful to be in the stadium. They could call Jesus the Christ when no one else would. So it is right that we call these two the pillars of the Church.

Now, if this were a corporation, these would not be the best picks to choose. Their background checks would not commend them to future success. Their leadership skills would be lacking and organizational techniques haphazard. But we are the Body of Christ, not God Incorporated. We are built on the truth embodied - but not defined - by the witness of their lives. Their words are backed by their lives and their deaths. They preached (and we believe) in a God whose love is greater than the moment of difficulty and whose grace is more lasting than this week’s lottery. This is a commitment of a God whose fidelity is stronger than the assaults of the very gates of hell.

How wonderful to celebrate this in the regular course of Sunday celebrations. The ‘interruption’ of the Ordinary Time cycle is a timely reminder of the basics of our faith. We are founded on the trusted and solid witness of people whose flaws and mistakes are all too much like our own. It is the fidelity possible through our weakness that is the ‘selling point’, if you will, of the power of our faith.

The Gospel is not an easy life. We are not easy people. And while we want the easy way, we all know it’s not there. But there is a way through it all – the good and the bad – and it is the way Peter and Paul both lived and showed us. They were two very different people who knew the same mystery of God’s mercy. And it is their witness today that assures us that we can know it as well.

So don’t delay; act now. Angels are standing by….

Sunday Readings

No Fear - Love

If I tried to condense this Gospel to the phrase, “All we have to fear is fear itself”, it would be yet another cheap reduction of the faith to a platitude. Having said that, it is also true. Fear is real even when the reasons for it are not. There is a deeply uncomfortable reaction within us when we perceive a challenge. And fear is seen in our ‘flight or fight” instincts. It doesn’t take a genius to see that we live in a world with some very god reasons to be afraid. We fear threats from within and from abroad. We have seen what can happen should we pretend to ignore them. But it would be too easy to confine our concerns to the lead stories on the evening news. We fear change, sickness and loss. Economic, material and physical aspects to life start to seem less secure and we tremble. But the number one terror is the fear of being unpopular because we believe. It is the awful prospect that others may see us as different because, by grace, we actually are. We are so much better than our worst just as we are worth more than flock of birds. We can count upon God because He has already counted the very hairs of our head. And yet we fear to speak and live Gods will.

Jeremiah knew it. The disciples felt it. Jesus experienced it. For them, it was a real and violent threat. Perhaps we could say that the way they were victorious was they summoned their courage, faced their fears and pressed on to glory. And, to any virtuous mind, this is a good thing.

Faith says it is, but it is not complete. The cure for fear is not merely courage; it is love – known and shown. Courage is the strength to stare fear in the face. Love wants to embrace it. To know God’s love ourselves and to show it to others takes us to new place. It remakes us into people who can speak the word of God because it is needed even if not popular. We do good because God is good and we don’t worry if everyone can see us. We respond to love not for any award since we already have our reward in the Father’s heart. We are confident because by that very definition, we have nothing to worry about.

Confidence says that we are free. We have the interior liberty to witness to Jesus and to live a life in the light of His grace. Sure, we have our moments and we can more than understand those who are afraid. We are examples of hope to those who can see little more than despair. And that is a fire burning within us because honest compassion looks with those who are hurting and never down on them. Confidence is never arrogant. There is a certain fearlessness that encourages us to see the pain of some one else. It is a grace to be in that dark place and to point out the light. And at times, it is that courageous – even silent - witness that shows the way of fear.

Let me give an example. We took two busloads of kids to Great Adventure and I was soon swarmed by a small group of young kids who were clearly terrified of going on a roller coaster. I remember being their age, at the same amusement park, and having that same experience of terror. I witnessed to my own rite of passage beyond fear and led those little lambs into the front car of Rolling Thunder. ‘Somehoworanother’ I neglected to mention how incredibly more terrifying that first drop was than my first coaster. Afterwards, those now-fearless Roller Warriors said, “That was awesome” and they ran as fast as they could away from me to safer, land based activities.

If that is what we humans can do about a child’s fear of a roller coaster, imagine the witness we can be to the unfading hope of God’s glory. No, such a witness is not always received with joy and some will be more than resistant as the history of the martyrs can prove. But we can be confident because we know the love of God. If we feel a tinge of embarrassment or hesitation, it can too often be that we are not looking to that love ourselves.

So even if we are downcast by fear and anxiety, the answer is not to look beyond it but above it. Jesus said “perfect loves casts out all fear.” Look to Him and others will look to you.

Our Heavenly Father already is.

Sunday Readings

Give

In what appears to now be a personal tradition, I just wrote some one a “Quadrennial Epistle.” This is a letter written, every four years, that is a very honest and deeply personal expression to the recipient. It began when I considered how often we lament the things not said in this life. This was my meager attempt - with a very narrow range - to rectify that.

But why do we wait? Why do we hold on to what can be so freely given? As Maximus said in the movie Gladiator, the things we do in this life echo in eternity. Our words of forgiveness and encouragement and even correction impact the eternal destiny of the one who speaks and the one who hears. It is in our power, by nature and by grace, to change the world with these precious things. Many have both for good and for ill. We think of the words and example of Mother Theresa, Jeanne Jugan and Francis of Assisi. And we think of the destructive words of Hitler or Stalin. What an awesome power God has given the human person! And how much greater is the grace given to the disciple.

I like to think that Jesus chose these twelve as His apostles not because they were the most eloquent but because they were the most generous. When it mattered, they were naturally and supernaturally disposed to say what needed to be said. The harvest was the ripe at the proper time and they would see it. They would know how freely they had received because of all, they would know how truly they were not deserving. They spoke because they believed; they believed because they received. Like the people of Israel redeemed from the slavery of Egypt, they received the grace of God freely offered and because they did, they were transformed into a new, holy, and priestly people.

Every Christian has received a similar grace. We have been offered the free gift of new life. Some are given the anointing of speaking what God wills to their families or students or co-workers. Others are called to a prophetic ministry of raising their hearts and hands to make life better for those whose lives are filled with pain. Others are called to religious life and the ordained priesthood to proclaim the Gospel in the ministry of the Church.

It is the dignity of every believer to continue this evangelization. In the pew or the pulpit, the Lord calls workers in His harvest by offering their hearts a word of free grace. That harvest is ready and the time is not every four years but every moment. There is a need in a world consumed with silent despair and quiet anguish of heart for the redeeming word of the Messiah. Our local Church is in deep need of those willing to hear the call of God to serve in the religious and ordained ministry. These can only hear that call if they come from families and communities that hear that call themselves. People who do not train their children to hear the call of God do not usually raise children who can her that call. Vocations, especially religious as well as married, single and secular, come from and through the home.

Our prayer today is that all who have known the grace of God will hear it continually and speak it in their lives and to all in the their lives. Don’t wait or put it off to later. We have been given this so freely. It is really not ours to horde or hide. The compassionate heart of Jesus longs for us to listen and to live who we have become so others can hear that same, saving word.

It is yours because you received it. And it is yours to give. So give as you have been given.

Sunday Readings

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Hard Mercy - Easy Sacrifice

Dedication is a virtue the world admires. It is the stuff of legend and hero alike. It speaks of commitment and application that is near total. It demands exclusive attention to the detriment of other things. It is the fervor of the athlete who practices instead of partying. It is the worker who schleps for hours a week to work so a family can eat. For the dedicated, sacrifice is essential. It is the offering of personal luxuries, time and preferences for a chosen good. And one appreciative recipient to this sacrificing dedication is religion. If we see the benefit of sacrifice in the human sphere, how much more than in religion. I mean if there is such greatness in the daily pursuit of the good things of this world, how could God not value the same? Go through the Bible: from Cain and Able to the martyrs of Revelation, it seems as if this is exactly what God is looking for. And, indeed would be correct to draw that conclusion, especially with the ultimate sacrifice of the King of Martyrs on the Cross.

Fine, let’s agree that sacrifice is an integral part of the journey of faith. The witness of the martyrs and the steadfastness of charity-workers adds a mighty ‘Amen’ to this truth. So it is easy to make the jump to a belief in a blood-thirsty God who is never impressed without a back-load of blood and suffering. Many have over the ages - as have their victims. But as even we are tempted by the ideal and idol of offering, we hear this verse: It is mercy I desire and not sacrifice. It goes against the grain, doesn’t it? We are not comfortable with such an apparently easy path to holiness. We have trouble with a God who shows mercy to a weasel like Matthew. We have a special place in our heart for the wrathful justice we feel should be given to those whose practice of religion has been less than consistent.

But is it really so? Is mercy easy?

Jesus showed Matthew mercy and ruined his life. Yes, you heard that correctly. Jesus showed mercy to a sinner and made his life worse. Mercy does that. It wrenches people out of comfortable patterns of living that have long given into the small and big sins of life. It demands a suspended sentence of condemnation handed down upon ourselves and others. It humbly says that God’s actions take the place of human judgment. And in our pride, it would be easier to become an afternoon snack for the lions in the Coliseum than to suffer that indignity. We can offer a cow or a flower to a creator-God. But to worship a God who lets us off the hook is another story.

And is this is the story of redemption. It is the will of the One who submitted Himself to the will of the Father over the tantrums of the ego. It transforms the rigorous sacrifices demanded of those dedicated to the Father’s will not by eliminating them. Instead the grace of redemption enables the worshiper to proffer their lives with the offering rather than merely fulfilling a wrathful requirement for holiness.

Sure, there are many in the world laden with the platitudes of ‘paying it forward’ and ‘giving back to the community.’ These are noble civic virtues that come from a reasonably generous place in the human heart. But the Gospel sees these same motivations as a direct result of mercy shown. We are truly the recipients of Christ’s offering to the Father. And, having received that grace, we proportionately understand that mercy and attempt to live it. And God knows – and I mean it as I said it – how demanding that can be. Thank God – and I mean that one too – that He is perfect and we are not. We’re just too limited and halting to be that selfless.

But the life of faith, the journey from, in and toward the perfect mercy of God, is the royal road of the cross. And it is a sacrifice that brings all of us closer to the reason we offer it. Sacrifice is easy if it is a matter of our will. Mercy is difficult because it is God’s will.