Category: Homilies

Homilies

Solemnity of the Resurrection

First reading: Acts 10:34,37-43
Psalm: Ps 118:1-2,16-17,22-23
Epistle: Colossians 3:1-4
Sequence: Praises to the Paschal Victim
Gospel: John 20:1-9

Christ is risen! Alleluia!
He is truly risen! Alleluia!

he went into the tomb and saw the burial cloths there,
and the cloth that had covered his head,
not with the burial cloths but rolled up in a separate place

As I stand here this morning I feel as if I am still living in the midst of Lent. Perhaps it is our inability to adjust quickly, to realize what is happening, to see what has happened in an instant. We may feel like Mary, or Peter, or the other Apostles, facing this new thing as we stand fixed in our recent past.

Our recent past has much to do with being bound. We walked with our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, and at every stop He was bound. It begins in the garden:

So the band of soldiers and their captain and the officers of the Jews seized Jesus and bound him. (John 18:12)

Then in the court of Annas:

Now the men who were holding Jesus mocked him and beat him;
they also blindfolded him and asked him, “Prophesy! Who is it that struck you?” (Luke 22:63-64)

From Annas to Caiaphas:

Annas then sent him bound to Ca’iaphas the high priest. (John 18:24)

From the prison of the Sanhedrin to the court of Pilate:

When morning came, all the chief priests and the elders of the people took counsel against Jesus to put him to death;
and they bound him and led him away and delivered him to Pilate the governor. (Matthew 27:1-2)

From the judge’s bench to the court of the Tribune:

Then Pilate took Jesus and scourged him.
And the soldiers plaited a crown of thorns, and put it on his head (John 19:1-2)

To Golgotha:

There they crucified him (John 19:18)

Bound, tied, blindfolded, lashed to a pillar, nailed to a cross. This walk with Jesus has been marked by the world’s attempt at binding Him, and silencing Him, and ending God’s role in the world. Finally to the tomb:

They took the body of Jesus, and bound it in linen cloths with the spices, as is the burial custom of the Jews. (John 19:40).

The body of Jesus is bound in finality, and placed away in the tomb. The door is shut, the giant stone is rolled into place. The guard stands by.

My brothers and sisters,

St. Peter advises us:

Always be prepared to make a defense to any one who calls you to account for the hope that is in you (1 Peter 3:15)

Today, this Holy and glorious day, this Easter morning, the bonds, chains, fetters, lashes, ties, and nails are no more. Christ is risen! The door has been opened and the giant stone has been rolled back. The soldiers have run away. He is truly risen! Alleluia!

What has changed for us is that the world can no longer bind us. There is no trap, no sin, no wrong that cannot be washed away. No ties bind us to darkness, to hopelessness. The world holds no secret promise for us because we know where our hope lies. The reason for our hope is our choice for Jesus Christ, for faith in His resurrection, for adherence to the testimony of many witnesses.

Our hope lies in eternal life, everlasting life, life which death cannot end. Because of this day not even death can bind us. Looking into the tomb we see the cloths rolled up, set aside. The binding cloths are no more; they have been set aside.

Rejoice today! Rejoice my friends because we have been freed and remain free. No one can take freedom from us because we have it in the resurrected Christ Jesus. Alleluia! Amen.

Homilies

Palm Sunday – B

First reading: Isaiah 50:4-7
Psalm: Ps 22:8,9,17-20,23-24
Epistle: Philippians 2:6-11
Gospel: Mark 14:1-15:47

Then Jesus said to them,
“All of you will have your faith shaken, for it is written:
I will strike the shepherd,
and the sheep will be dispersed.
But after I have been raised up,
I shall go before you to Galilee.”

Choices:

We like to think of faith, of the Church as a series of choices. We like the idea of choice. As we reflect on Christ’s triumphal entry into Jerusalem and the reading of the Passion of our Lord Jesus Christ according to St. Mark we reflect on choices that were made. Let’s looks at those today. Was everything a choice or there was something more.

The choices:

They said, “Not during the festival,
for fear that there may be a riot among the people”

The chief priests and the scribes chose to avoid a big showy arrest during the festival. They chose to avoid publicity and to hide the sin they were committing, the persecution and murder of an innocent man.

a woman came with an alabaster jar of perfumed oil

The woman who stepped forward was courageous. She knew the impact of what she was doing. She heard the murmur of the bystanders. She chose to anoint Jesus, to be faithful to something greater than choice in the midst of condemnation.

Then Judas Iscariot, one of the Twelve,
went off to the chief priests to hand him over to them.

There’s the big choice. People think Judas had to betray Jesus; he had to do so or salvation would never come. Some see him as weak, even sympathetic, and perhaps a forgivable part of the plan. That only works if there is no choice, but Judas had a choice. Faith or betrayal? He chose betrayal. For that Jesus would say:

—woe to that man by whom the Son of Man is betrayed.
It would be better for that man if he had never been born.”

Judas, like the Pharisees, the scribes, the Sadducees, the priestly class, Pilate… they all had a choice to make. How often Jesus would tell them: You have God right before you, your Messiah, and you don’t recognize Him.

This weekend’s paper had an article on Claudia Procula, Pilate’s wife. The article goes in a lot of different directions, but the key point is that she is counted among the saints. If you recall, she had a dream about Jesus and told Pilate to leave Him alone. She chose to speak-up, to tell of her dream. Pilate missed the sign, not because he was destined to, but because he chose to. Claudia, for her part, remembered the dream and chose to follow Jesus, chose to follow Him because of something greater than choice.

The disciples chose to sleep rather than to pray. When the betrayer and the cohort came they fled. Peter spoke boldly, but when the moment came he chose cowardice over witness:

He began to curse and to swear,
“I do not know this man about whom you are talking.”

The false witness chose to lie under oath. They chose to condemn Jesus rather than to recognize Him. Like Peter they said they didn’t know Him.

An inexorable call and a choice

In each scene, at each step, choices were made. The key to all of these choices is that they are not choices in a vacuum.

Jesus knew that each man and woman He encountered carried within themselves the inexorable call to God. God is all goodness, all charity, all truth, all justice. He is perfection. Each of them, and each of us, carries that unavoidable call to perfection, to oneness with God. It is part of us, put into us by God, the longing of our souls. Psalm 63:1 captures the inborn longing that is part of each of us:

O God, thou art my God, I seek thee, my soul thirsts for thee; my flesh faints for thee

Choices aren’t just choices. We have to see each choice in light of the call that pulls us toward God. The woman who anointed Jesus – she drew closer to God, not just in anointing Him, but in doing right before scoffers. Pilate’s wife chose to speak, and drew closer to God. Judas, Pilate, the Jewish leadership, the false witnesses, Peter, the other disciples all chose to distance themselves from God. They drew away from Christ and we see the result — He stands alone, on trial, mocked, derided, killed.

Both

As Jesus’ people, as the Church, we recognize that every choice is a chance. Every choice is an opportunity that has been laid before us. Do we choose to fulfill the call to closeness with God, a call that lives in us, or do we choose distance. Do we leave Jesus standing alone or do we keep Him company, even at the cross.

Living life subject to falls

We live a life subject to falls. Jesus washed His disciples’ feet for a reason. Afterward He said:

“Do you realize what I have done for you?
You call me ‘teacher’ and ‘master,’ and rightly so, for indeed I am.
If I, therefore, the master and teacher, have washed your feet, you ought to wash one another’s feet.
I have given you a model to follow, so that as I have done for you, you should also do.”

Jesus knew we would fall; fall over and over. Jesus fell on his way to calvary. Three times He fell to the ground and arose again. In His physical weakness He recalls and pays for our spiritual weakness.

Living life faithful to the call

We will fall, and we will rise. Jesus provides us the means to rise over and over, to live faithful to the call to witness to Him, to make the choice for Him, and to return to Him. Our call is to stand by Christ, to love Him, to proclaim Him even when the shepherd is stricken. The world strikes at Jesus over and over. The world actively endeavors to strike Jesus, to make Him not God, not truth, not the only way to heaven. The world tries to make Jesus offensive and His people mistaken in their choice. As they strike we must choose where we will stand.

The world strikes and we could choose to scatter, to run away, to deny Christ. Even if we do the call remains. The call to live in faithfulness, to stand with the shepherd. Jesus beckons us. The Sprint inspires us and gives the grace necessary to hear the call. There is no denying what we hear.

Living life faithful to the choice

If we live faithful to the call we will show our choice. Our choice will be apparent to the world. The world’s strikes against the shepherd are of no account and are without merit. The truth speaks to us from within and shows those strikes to be untrue. Knowing they are untrue we stand at the cross, looking up, saying: “He is my hope!”

The risen Christ has gone before us to prepare the way, the way that gives us reason for our hope. Amen.

Homilies

Passion Sunday – B

First reading: Jeremiah 31:31-34
Psalm: Ps 51:3-4,12-15
Epistle: Hebrews 5:7-9
Gospel: John 12:20-33

“Sir, we would like to see Jesus.”

The perfect line for Passion Sunday. As we enter the Passiontide we begin the walk with Jesus that leads to His crucifixion, that leads to His being lifted up from the earth for all to see. We will see Jesus — clearly and in plain view and we will know the truth.

Stuff is happening fast.

The daily readings for the next week-and-a-half show Jesus in and around Jerusalem. Things are happening and they are happening fast.

On Monday the woman caught in adultery is brought to Him, the Pharisees and scribes seeking to use her to trap Jesus. On Tuesday He will tell the Pharisees that He is I Am — that He is God. On Wednesday and Thursday He indicates that the people would truly love Him if they loved God as they claimed. He once again notes that He is I Am — that He is God. Thursday leaves Jesus in the temple with the Jews as they are picking up stones, preparing to stone Him. On Friday Jesus uses their words, their very stones, to indict them of unbelief. He clearly says that He is God’s Son. On Saturday the plot is hatched. The Jewish leaders were very angry. The raising of Lazarus threatened their position and their positions. Jesus is left in Ephraim near the desert. The chief priest and Pharisees have given orders. Jesus was to be apprehended. All the while they plotted how to kill Him. Next Sunday Jesus will enter Jerusalem in triumph to the shouts of Hosanna in the highest, blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord. The following Monday He will go to a banquet in Bethany. Lazarus will be there, and Mary will bring costly perfume. She will anoint His feet and dry them with her hair. By Wednesday the plotting is complete. Judas goes to the chief priest and the Pharisees to exchange Jesus for silver.

Jesus is in plan view.

All this happens with Jesus in plain view. Jesus knew where the path, through the Passiontide, would lead. Its inexorable conclusion was the cross. Jesus did not hide from it. He didn’t avoid the temple, the scribes, the Pharisees. He knew that His standing forth would fulfill what He had said:

—And when I am lifted up from the earth,
I will draw everyone to myself.”—¨

The last challenges are made.

Did you ever notice how we like to avoid confrontation. I know that there are political junkies out there who will vociferously debate anyone, but for the most part we walk away from hot-button, controversial issue. Our mantra is: ‘You have your position, I have mine. God bless you, God bless me.’

Jesus wasn’t having any of that – because He is I Am — He is God. As God He represents absolute truth. Jesus doesn’t, and in fact couldn’t walk away from confrontations, from telling the Jewish leaders that they were not sons of Abraham, that they were wrong, that they didn’t know or love God. He knew the truth. Regardless of the challenges He had to represent truth — and in that He spoke a truth that challenged their hearts. Jesus had to tell it like it is, even if it meant the cross.

We are challenged – to face Jesus on the cross

Jesus challenges us. During the Passiontide we are challenged to face Jesus on the cross — to face the truth of Jesus on the cross. Jesus speaks a truth from the cross that challenges our hearts.

Today the Holy Cross is covered in purple. On Good Friday it will be revealed once again, in all its reality. Today we cannot see the cross, its physical representation. We have to rely on the vision of the cross that is in our hearts, that speaks the truth to us.

We cannot avoid that confrontation. In these last days Jesus speaks to us ever more clearly, about our comfortable ‘You have your position, I have mine’ way of living. We are called to face the image of the cross in us, we who died with Jesus in baptism. We are called to face the truth in our lives and to represent that truth in the world.

In facing Him our hearts are changed

In facing the cross we are changed. Its truth is simple yet incomprehensible. There is a hymn by Gillian Welch called By The Mark. In it Gillian Welch proclaims:

I will know my savior
—¨By the mark where the nails have been —¨—¨

By the mark where the nails have been
By the sign upon his precious skin
—¨I will know my savior when I come to him—¨
By the mark where the nails have been

In facing Him our perspective is changed

We are changed because all perspective, all thought, all that is claimed as truth must be seen through the wounds Jesus suffered for us. The singer rightly knows that Jesus’ gloriously resurrected body maintains those marks. They won’t magically disappear because it is their cost that saves us and makes us whole. Knowing this truth opens all truth to us.

The truth is that our marks, our sins, our untruths have disappeared. Seen through the vision of the cross all the weakness in us is washed away and we are made whole, clean, and ready — ready to bear witness to the very truth represented by the cross. We are made ready to bear witness to the fact that the cross saves, that it gains heaven for those who have faith in Jesus Christ.

In facing Him we live.

In facing Jesus, in going to see Him on the cross — daily, from hour to hour, from moment to moment, we gain life. Jesus says:

—Amen, amen, I say to you,
unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies,
it remains just a grain of wheat;
but if it dies, it produces much fruit.—

The fruit that has come from the cross is us. We are the witnesses to, and heralds of, the truth. The fruit of the cross is a people, a body that lives in the truth, a truth that cannot be compromised or hidden. The world’s way, the way of the Pharisees is falsehood. Those positions, the current trends and the way of worldly leaders is shown to be a way without salvation, without life, a dead end.

Gillian Welch’s hymn tells us:

A man of riches
May claim a crown of jewels
But the king of heaven
Can be told from the prince of fools

By the mark where the nails have been

With that truth we confidently point to the cross — and to the marks where the nails had been — and we can say, ‘This is the truth of God; the truth that makes us citizens of heaven.’

The Greeks came looking to see Jesus. Maybe they wanted a spectacle. Maybe they wanted a miracle so they could report it to the folks back home. ‘Oh Susanna, it was so cool, I was there and Jesus…’

My friends it was. It was more than cool, it was great! We were there and Jesus took up the cross for us. We were there when He was raised on high for us. We were there and we heard and saw the truth. We were there and we became the fruit of that has grown up from the life He gave for us. We were there so we can say. ‘I know the truth because I see the cross. I see the cross and I know that eternal life awaits me.’

“Sir, we would like to see Jesus.”

Look upon Him, in the vision of the cross you carry in your hearts during this Passiontide. That truth, those wounds speak to us. They tell us that Jesus is our Savior. They tell us the truth. They tell us that by looking at Him on the cross we see the truth, the truth that has saved us, that saves the world. Amen.

Homilies

Fourth Sunday of Lent – B

First reading: 2 Chronicles 36:14-16,19-23
Psalm: Ps 137:1-6
Epistle: Ephesians 2:4-10
Gospel: John 3:14-21

For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son

A simple sentence. God loved the world and because of that love He gave us His Son, our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

Is Jesus a Trademark?

The sentence is simple enough, but understanding its premise is very difficult. The premise is difficult because of all that has been built around the sentence and the premise. In a sense, man has made the premise into a premises. Man has taken this simple sentence and has built walls around it and has fortified its walls.

Looking at all this, one can very easily fall into the trap of seeing Jesus as a trademark, and not as a gift. There’s the Roman Catholic Jesus, the Protestant Jesus, the Evangelical Jesus, the Buddhist Jesus, the Hindu Jesus, the Jewish Jesus, the buddy Jesus, the film Jesus, the book Jesus, Jesus as philosopher, Jesus as spiritual guide, and Jesus as an apparition in toast.

We have a Jesus that is pushed and pulled in every direction, is fought over, and is claimed — not as a gift, not as God’s Son, but as a possession, as a trademark.

Describe God’s gift

Trademark Jesus is not the Jesus of John 3:16. The Jesus that God knows is God Himself, His image, likeness, and unity come as a gift, given freely and without cost or expectation of repayment, all because of love.

The premise of God giving Himself out of love even surpasses our understanding of unrequited gifts. In any exchange of gifts, in everything we do, we carry expectation. That’s our human weakness. We give generously, but somewhere, deep down, we’re waiting for the payback. Will my gift be repaid? Will I get some credit? Will I be loved in return? Will I go to heaven? Our giving entails exchange, but not so with God.

God gave Himself. He gave His Son, co-eternal, the Everlasting, the Alpha and the Omega, the One who put the first breath into mankind. He came with one purpose, to repay the Father for all the evils we have or will ever commit. He came to take up every burden we carry, lifting them off our shoulders. He came to say one thing and one thing only — I love you and give Myself for you.

The gift of self beats all philosophy

It would be easier to understand God coming to us if He had laid down a set of philosophical expectations. If Jesus came and told us that He knew of a way, and laid its secrets out in a philosophical treatise that would get us from point A to point B, maybe then we could understand. After-all, that would be an exchange. We’d have a set of copyrighted and trademarked principals and secrets that we could buy into. If we buy in we would get to heaven, nirvana, whatever.

That’s what the Gnostics believed. They reduced Jesus to a philosopher who left little secrets. If one studied the Jesus secrets enough, one could get to heaven. Did you ever notice that that very premise is much in fashion today? People love that stuff. They think that they can best understand Jesus, and get to heaven, if they discover the little secrets He left behind. It’s easy, just break into the Vatican archives or the secret cave in the Middle East. People relate to faith systems that work that way, like the exchanges they are familiar with. That, my friends, is the very difference between Jesus as a trademark philosophical system and Jesus as gift.

The gift of self is necessary

Our Jesus, the Jesus of Christian faith, is Jesus the free gift of God. We cannot comprehend the total beauty of this gift. St. Paul attempted to explain it in his letter to the Philippians (Philippians 2:5-8):

Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus,
who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped,
but emptied himself, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men.
And being found in human form he humbled himself and became obedient unto death, even death on a cross.

In this gift God gave up the glory and perfection of heaven. He came among us born of a poor maiden, in a stable, in a backwater town. He was dedicated to God and became a Rabbi. He walked through the countryside without money or a place to rest with a group of half believing and weak kneed disciples, among them a traitor, and a bunch of tax collectors, public sinners, and prostitutes. Wherever He went the local authorities challenged Him. When He tried to go back home he was driven out of town and was nearly stoned to death. He did all sorts of amazing things, and things only God could do — like raising the dead — and the authorities called Him the devil. They plotted to kill Him and because it was His will to offer Himself for us He let them have their way.

In all this He spoke publicly and He didn’t keep any secrets. He didn’t leave any juicy tidbits in a cave near Jerusalem. He gave Himself and He died — for you and me. His was the gift that was necessary. God’s gift of Himself was absolutely necessary.

The gift is onto salvation

There is and was no amount of money, no number of animal sacrifices, nothing within our grasp or control, that could make things right between us and God. God had to do it, had to will it, and had to carry it out. He did it all, Himself, in Christ Jesus. The gift of Jesus was necessary. God’s love and justice required it. God could not touch us in our sinfulness, because our evil and His perfection cannot co-exist. He couldn’t wash us clean, He couldn’t make it right through a philosophical path, through secrets, or through teachings alone.

Making things right meant that God had to pick up and carry all our ugliness, all of our evil, and had to kill it — destroy it. Jesus did that. In every step, from His nine months in the womb to His death on the cross, He did what was necessary. God reconciled us in Himself, through His Son’s assumption of our ugliness which culminated in His suffering and death. The horror of Good Friday made us clean. We are washed clean and God sees us that way.

Jesus — the gift, not the trademark was the gift that was necessary for our salvation. God’s gift of Himself.

Where does condemnation come from?

In our first reading from Second Chronicles we hear of God’s anger and punishment:

the anger of the LORD against his people was so inflamed
that there was no remedy.
Their enemies burnt the house of God,
tore down the walls of Jerusalem,
set all its palaces afire,
and destroyed all its precious objects.

God allowed the destruction of Jerusalem. We read those words and cower. We see God’s wrath repeated over and over and we love to consider it. It is either a morbid curiosity or a fun endeavor — I bet I know what will happen to him…

—¨Now think of our dilemma, the difficulty we have in grasping God’s gift. Ok, I know God gave Himself and died for me — but when I die He’s gonna be awful mad.

To understand or even picture God rolling out the welcome mat for us we have to believe in the gift He has given. We have to do what is necessary as told to us in the second part of John 3:16

so that everyone who believes in him might not perish
but might have eternal life.—¨

We have to believe in the gift. Condemnation — well that will come to those who obstinately refuse to believe that Jesus was anything other than who He really is.

Condemnation means perishing. Trademark Jesus means hell. That’s the hell that awaits the stubborn heart. God will not condemn us to hell. He condemns no one. We however condemn ourselves through a failure to believe God can love us enough to give Himself for us, that He would be willing to reconcile us. In Chronicles the Jewish people did it to themselves. Their favorite song should have been —Oops I did it again.—

They were the ones who:

added infidelity to infidelity,
practicing all the abominations of the nations
and pollut[ed] the LORD’s temple —¨

They raised idols and Asherah poles. They adopted the local gods and turned from God. They forgot Him over and over, and over again. They condemned themselves through their failure to a believe in God — God who would give Himself for them. They never saw the gift and when they were told of it they decided that they had a better philosophy.

The road to hell is paved with one thing only — a failure to believe. If we stop up our ears, if we cannot see love for what it is, if we turn from God and find a better, more pleasing philosophy or trademark, then we have indicted and condemned ourselves. God’s welcome mat is rolled out. If we show up, believing that for all our faults and shortcomings, we are covered in the blood of Jesus, if we believe in its power to save, to make things right with God, then our salvation is assured.

Will I be saved?

The age old question is before us, —Will I be saved?—

If we see Jesus as a philosophy, as a system, as a set of magical secrets and apparitions in toast, if we see Him as a trademark, then the question is valid. If however we stand here and believe, believe that God so loved the world that He gave Himself as a gift, that He took all our ugliness and destroyed it, that He did it all; if we believe on Him, then we will be walking up the welcome mat.

Believe in Jesus who told us that He is the way, the truth, and the life. If we do that much, trusting in Him, His gift, and His way, then we will have eternal life. Amen.

Homilies

Third Sunday of Lent – B

First reading: —¨Exodus 20:1-17
Psalm: —¨Ps 19:8-11 —¨—¨
Epistle: —¨1 Corinthians 1:22-25
Gospel: —¨John 2:13-25

”I, the LORD, am your God,
who brought you out of the land of Egypt, that place of slavery.
You shall not have other gods besides me.—

Aren’t we narrow minded when we think of other gods? When God says that we shall not have other gods besides Him our minds turn to images of stone gods, Roman gods, Greek gods, gods who are by definition a type of supreme being.

We have to broaden our definition

As Christians we need to keep a very broad definition of other gods, and an awareness of the dangers and allures they offer.

Because our task is to center our lives, ourselves, on God, we need to be aware of all the allures that can become other gods. We need to keep as broad a definition as possible so as to better keep our lives in balance, avoiding the danger of temptation found in focusing ourselves on false gods. Keeping ourselves properly focused on the truth of God, and His unique position as the center of our lives, gives us the most complete life, the most perfect life, the life that God intended for us.

God’s intention is that we have a life that leads us to fulfillment and happiness. He knows the things that can so easily pull us off-course. Those things are a conglomeration of all the false gods that exist.

Who are the other gods

In keeping with our broad definition of other gods we can enumerate the usual suspects, money, power, food, drink, lust, work, television, the computer, music, shopping. Indeed, in our present day there are even movements aimed at bringing back the old gods, the gods modeled after earth and sky, the gods modeled after man’s understanding of himself and his surroundings. These and so many other things can push the one true God out of our lives, or if not out, they can easily pack Him up in a little box for storage in our mental attic. We can’t point to any one thing and explicitly call it evil, rather it is the ease with which these things can become the priority, the sought after ideal or model in our lives, or something that will sit in God’s rightful place.

For me, it is bed. I love bed, I love to sleep, to sleep-in, to lie about, to relax and be at ease. Bed can easily become my god. The funny thing about gods like that is the way in which we begin to make excuses for their priority in our lives. Because my week is so tiring, and because I’ve been doing so much around the house, I deserve this rest, this time. In moderation, sure, but we take it to the next level. Everything becomes an excuse for the pursuit of our god.

Now imagine, just for a moment, if we began to develop excuses for having God as our priority. Guys, I’d love to head out for a few beers, but I just have to get home and spend an hour in prayer. If anyone offered that excuse I think the earth would just about stop spinning. Funny isn’t it, but that’s the excuse we should be offering, that’s the priority we should be giving to the very center of our lives.

Can Christians worship other gods

Taking our previous example to the next level, we have to ask whether committed Christians can create other, false gods. Can we as Christians become idol worshipers?

Now I am not speaking of our tendency to sinfulness. In general we can create false gods in our sinfulness. If we do not pay attention to what we are supposed to be about, if we don’t maintain our discipline and our focus we can easily slip into a world permeated by false gods. But let’s say we are deeply committed in our Christian life, can we still create false gods?

The answer is yes, we can turn the one true God into a false god. We can turn our worship of Him, our faith in Him, our prayer, anything we do in the name of faith into a false god. It is one of those sins that secularist society often points to when they denigrate religion and faith. If we turn God into something He isn’t, a political figure, a battering ram to be used on people of other faith, or a merciless spirit without compassion or mercy, we’ve created the sames type of false god, no better than gods of stone or money.

The caution is to do as Jesus warned the Samaritan woman in John 4:23-24:

“But the hour is coming, and now is, when the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth, for such the Father seeks to worship him. God is spirit, and those who worship him must worship in spirit and truth.”

Besides our efforts at avoiding the traps of sin, of the usual false gods, we need to keep our focus on worshiping God from the spirit and in truth.

Lord, you have the words of everlasting life.

Today’s psalm verse proclaims: Lord, you have the words of everlasting life.

In avoiding the false gods and in protecting ourselves from the temptations to false worship, we should keep those words before us. The words of everlasting life come from the mouth of God. Jesus brought us the Father’s word, the Father’s instruction, the Father’s desire that we know Him and live in Him. He assures us that knowing Him, loving Him, worshiping Him, putting Him at the center is our sure guarantee of eternal life. That cannot be found anywhere else or in anyone else.

Those words and instructions are words that bring us life. The false gods, those who lead the innocent to a wrong understanding of God, turning Him into a false god, lead to death, to the absence of life.

Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God.

St. Paul reiterated that when he reminds us that Christ is the power of God and the wisdom of God.

Relying on God’s power and wisdom is a sure protection for us. Think of Him, Jesus, our Lord and our God. Think of our lives centered on His power and wisdom. His is the power and wisdom of love, of sacrifice, of truth, justice, the call to repentance by the one who has the power to forgive and forgive freely. The call to eternal life with the Father by the One who gives eternal life. With our lives centered on Him we rely on His promise of salvation, believing it to be true and reliable. By setting aside the tendency to pack off God, to replace Him with false gods, we place our faith firmly in the hands of God’s power and wisdom.

Jesus goes to temple

Jesus went to the temple. He overturned the tables and chased out the false gods.

He found in the temple area those who sold oxen, sheep, and doves,
as well as the money changers seated there.
He made a whip out of cords
and drove them all out of the temple area, with the sheep and oxen,
and spilled the coins of the money changers
and overturned their tables,
and to those who sold doves he said,
“Take these out of here,
and stop making my Father’s house a marketplace.”

It wasn’t the oxen, the sheep, the doves, or even the money. What those people represented had nothing to do with buying and selling. What they did represent was total death, an interior life that had died to God. Jesus was there and He saw them all as dead, closed, people who had no notion as to why they were there, or even where they were. God was packed off into a small dusty corner, no longer part of their lives.

If they knew where they were, if they realized the truth of anything they had ever been taught, they would have seen Jesus for who He is. They would have recognized the Messiah and they would have turned over their own table in their rush to Him.

Look at them, sitting there, complacent vendors. A sheep here, a few shekels there, show up in the morning, go home at night. The customers one faceless mass of people, one no different from the next. If Jesus had taken a poll and asked why they were there not a one would have known.

Zeal

The Gospel goes on to recount:

—¨His disciples recalled the words of Scripture,
Zeal for your house will consume me.

Jesus was consumed with zeal, zeal for the Father and everything connected to the Father. His whole being was one with the Father, His words and actions from the Father.

In His zeal Jesus tells us that dedication to the Father, to God as God, is where we should be. We need to imitate His zeal, making it part of our lives. We are to put God front and center, dedicating ourselves to Him, recognizing Him as God and placing no other before Him.

The dangers and allures of the false gods are real. Whatever the form, we must be aware, aware of God, of His rightful place in our lives, and strengthen ourselves with the zeal that destroys all falsehood. Amen.—¨

Homilies

Solemnity of the Institution of the PNCC

First reading: Wisdom 5:1-5
Psalm: Ps 122:1-9
Epistle: 1 Timothy 4:1-5
Gospel: John 15:1-8

I am the vine, you are the branches. He who abides in me,
and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit

Reflection on where we are

One-hundred and twelve years. More than a century has passed since our Holy Polish National Catholic Church was organized. It is fitting then that the Holy Church gives us this Solemnity as an occasion for reflection. Now I have rightly opened this homily with words from Holy Scripture, so I can now focus on Frank Sinatra.

Frank Sinatra?

Yes, do-be-do-be-doo.

We are not just history

When I say reflect, our minds immediately wander into history. There is that, and I will cover that, but do-be-do-be-doo.

Do — our organizers of blessed memory, Bishop Hodur, our parents and grandparents, even great-great grandparents were not part of a Church that sat back pondering history. They lived an active faith, a living faith, a faith that moved mountains and changed the world. Our Church is a Church that lives and breathes, that teaches and instructs, that prays, and that makes over communities. It is our Church that respects God’s gift of democracy and self-determination, that lifts up the immigrant and those in need. We bring the young to Christ, bring forgiveness to sinners, sanctify the hearts of those who seek God. We marry and we ordain. We grant peace to the sick and the dying, and we carry the faithful on their final journey.

We are not a Church of history, or of the past, or of warm memory alone, but the Church that is so needed today.

Bishop Hodur was called by those in need

In March 1897 Father Franciszek Hodur sat at the table in the rectory of Holy Trinity Roman Catholic Church in Nanticoke, Pennsylvania. A group, making the journey from Scranton visited him and presented him with a petition signed by two hundred and thirty-seven members of a Scranton parish. Their need was laid before him and…do-be-do-be-doo, he decided to do, to hear their plea and to act.

Father Hodur saw the need and did something about it. He didn’t crawl into his comfortable bed in Nanticoke. He, a favorite of Scranton’s Roman Catholic Bishop, knew the consequences for not going back to bed. He knew that he could have wished the group well, quickly ushering them to the door, and he would have had a fine life. Instead he led them through the door to a life in which he, and the faithful of the Polish National Catholic Church, saw need and worked to meet it.

The Church is here for a reason

Back in my day we used to walk uphill to Nanticoke in our bare feet in the middle of winter, and then home again, uphill.

Aren’t our ancestors great. They were so strong, so determined, so invincible? They worked in the coal mines all day, raised bunches of kids, cooked, cleaned their clothes in the local stream…and they had time to organize a Church, build a cathedral, and spread God’s word, all on donations of nickels and dimes.

We see our forefathers as oh so strong as we sit in comfortable couches to lament our lack of time and energy. As for church, we are faithful and we arrive at our destination on a rather regular basis.

My friends, the Church is here for a reason, and it is not a destination. The Holy Church and our beautiful parish is more than a place to go to, it is the place we are to go from — renewed, strengthened, energized. Do-be-do-be-doo, to do.

The need is real

Brothers and sisters,

The need is oh so real. It isn’t just the current economy, the loss of jobs, hunger, family problems. Those things exist in good times and in the bad. In my secular work I see the exploitation that is going on.

The fourteen year old boy sleeping in an unheated guard shack at a construction site. He has no home, and the person employing him as a carpenter and drywall hanger doesn’t pay enough.

The crew of workers driven from state to state. Their employer drives them, houses them, feeds them, and pays a meager wage. They work seven days a week, twelve hours a day. If they should complain, should ask for time to go to church…they are left on the side of the road in nowhere New York. Left without money, without means to get home.

There are workers who keep working based on a promise to pay. They are told to work for free one day a week or they won’t be paid or called back. When the pay does come, weeks late, it is a fraction of the promised pay.

Look at this neighborhood. How many are hurting, how many in need, how many whose wages are stolen, how many need the hand of a brother or sister, a bowl of soup, the comforting hand of the Holy Church, the presence of Christ who calls us. Who calls us to do!

We are called

We are called to do. We aren’t here, in this neighborhood, by accident. God planted us here in His infinite wisdom. He planted us so that we may do. As with our ancestors, as with Bishop Hodur, we are here to teach and train, to pray, to feed, to stand together, and to demand justice. We are here to baptize, to forgive, to sanctify, to marry and ordain, to heal and comfort, and to carry our brothers and sisters home. God has given us a tremendous gift and a fantastic opportunity. God’s gift says — here is the Church so that you may represent Me, and so that many may find Me.

Who calls

Do you hear it? Do you hear that hymn, sung by Father, by our Bishop, by Bishop Hodur? Do-be-do-be-doo, go and do. Do you hear the words of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ:

`Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brethren, you did it to me.’

We are so blessed. Our democratic model for the Holy Church allows us to raise up our ideas, to share them, to debate them, and to reach consensus on that which we must do.

The call is there and it is speaking to our minds and hearts. The call takes many forms. It is the inspiration to take on a project, to lend a hand, to speak with Father. Father has asked us for input. From the March newsletter: —Father also makes this plea to let him know…— As Father Hodur heard the plea and acted, so too for us. We need to hear the plea and to be the Holy Church envisioned by our organizers. We all need to take the time to talk to Father, alone or in small groups. Let us go to him and share the things we want to do, for God, for our community, for this neighborhood.

To what end

Our first reading from Wisdom foretells the One who would beat expectations. The people said:

“This is the man whom we once held in derision
and made a byword of reproach — we fools!
We thought that his life was madness
and that his end was without honor.—

Jesus Christ beat expectations and people were amazed, shocked. We are called to do the same. We abide, we live in the light of the One who beat expectation — and so we must. Then, they will say of us:

—Why has he been numbered among the sons of God?
And why is his lot among the saints?—

Our lot is among the saints if we do-be-do-be-doo. So let us go and do. Let us go and bear much fruit. Amen.

Homilies,

First Sunday of Lent – B

First reading: Genesis 9:8-15
Psalm: Ps 25:4-9
Epistle: 1 Peter 3:18-22
Gospel: Mark 1:12-15

“See, I am now establishing my covenant with you
and your descendants after you——¨

Deals, agreements, contracts…the history of the Old Testament is marked by a series of these covenants. In turn, the covenants are marked by symbols of remembrance.

A history of promises

We know of God’s promise, His covenant with Abraham. God promised many things to Abraham. He promised that He would make Abraham’s name great (Genesis 12:2), that Abraham would have numerous descendants (Genesis 13:16), that he would be the father of a multitude of nations (Genesis 17:4-5). God also promised that the families of the world will be blessed through Abraham’s descendant, the Messiah (Genesis 22:18).

God made various promises to Moses. In Deuteronomy 30:1-10 God renewed the promise He gave Abraham regarding the land Israel was to inherit. In addition, God laid out, in the Mosaic Covenant (Deuteronomy 11; et seq.), a set of conditional covenants that brought blessings for Israel’s obedience or curses for their disobedience. We remember these as the ten commandments and the rest of the law which contained over 600 commands—”with roughly 300 blessings and 300 curses.

God also gave David the promise that his descendant would inherit his throne and occupy it forever. The Davidic Covenant (2 Samuel 7:8-16) amplifies the promise God gave Abraham, that his seed would bless the world. This promise to David is key because God promised that David’s physical line of descent would last forever and that his kingdom would never pass away. This kingdom, furthermore, would have a ruling individual exercising authority over it. That ruler, that king, is our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ (Luke 1:32-33) who lives forever.

Our first reading from Genesis showed God establishing a covenant, an agreement with Noah.

Who makes the promise, and how?

In each of these instances we see the promise being made. Further, for every promise a marking, or a symbol, is given.

Now these promises are not like the promises we make. Our experience is to enter into agreements with each other. Our promises involve exchanges and mutual promises. If I want to put a new roof on my house I enter into a contract with a roofer. I expect them to put a proper roof on my house using proper materials. In exchange they expect payment, or a series of payments. The promise is the contract, the sign of the promise are the paper the contract is written on, and the fulfillment of the contract is the work and my payment.

God’s covenants don’t work that way. God’s covenants are normally unconditional. God obligates Himself when He unrestrictedly declares, ‘I will.’ God promises to accomplish, or bring about His promises despite any failure on the part of the person or people with whom He covenants. Looking at God’s promise to Noah, we see that He makes the promise, He sets the sign by which the promise is to be remembered, and He fulfills the promise. All of these are unconditional.

There are other, physical symbols of the covenants I mentioned earlier. When God promised Abraham the land and descendants — Abraham asked for a sign — which meant that he wanted a contract. In those days, when two people entered a contract, they brought a sacrifice, divided it in two, and each passed between the the two pieces, through its blood, to seal the contract. God told Abraham (Genesis 15:1-21):

‘Bring me a heifer three years old, a she-goat three years old, a ram three years old, a turtledove, and a young pigeon.’ And he brought him all these, cut them in two, and laid each half over against the other; but he did not cut the birds in two. And when birds of prey came down upon the carcasses, Abram drove them away. As the sun was going down, a deep sleep fell on Abram; and lo, a dread and great darkness fell upon him…When the sun had gone down and it was dark, behold, a smoking fire pot and a flaming torch passed between these pieces.

Abraham did not pass through. God, alone passed through, signified by the smoking fire pot and a flaming torch. God made the covenant with Himself. He promised to do it, signing the contract Himself.

Now the human response to God’s covenants is always important. Our positive response leads to blessing. But regardless, human failure can never abrogate the covenant or block its fulfillment. Abraham, Moses, Noah, David — at one point or another each met with sin and failure. Each had a moment or moments where they exhibited a lack of faith in God. Yet, God’s promise lives on and is fulfilled regadless of their failure.

Who holds the promise maker accountable

Getting back to my earlier roofing example, if my roofer doesn’t deliver, or if I fail to pay, we each have remedies available. I can sue him, he can sue me. We can pursue each other in order to bring about the fulfillment of the promise. Each promise implies accountability.

God is accountable as well. While He gives us His promise, He holds Himself accountable for its fulfillment. God never leads us down the primrose path. He never tells a lie. His promise is true. He holds Himself personally accountable, and in the end, we see that He personally fulfilled each and every promise He ever made.

Where are we, what is our promise

My brothers and sisters,

We stand here in the midst of the fulfillment of those covenants. Our promise is the sum of promises fulfilled in Christ Jesus.

We are part of the new and everlasting covenant marked by the sign we pray before, the sign we are marked with at baptism, the sign we mark ourselves with – the holy and all blessed Cross of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

This new covenant renews our minds and hearts, restores favor and blessing to the members of the Holy Church — the new and everlasting Israel. The new covenant in the blood of Christ forgives and removes all of our sins, and brings about an indwelling of the Holy Spirit.

The new covenant in the blood of Christ went into effect at the Last Supper during which our Lord and Savior gave us His body and blood. He made His disciples the first heirs and leaders of a new body of believers — the Holy Church. They were called to invite Jews and Gentile alike. Come, enter into the new covenant.

Under the new covenant all those who belong to Christ, who are members of the Holy Church, benefit by being called children of God (Romans 8:16), the household of God (Ephesians 2:19), the children of Abraham (Galatians 3:7), and the children of promise (Romans 9:8). We are a people of His own (Titus 2:14), are heirs of God according to promise (Galatians 3:29) and heirs of the kingdom (James 2:5). Further, we are God’s people called the temple of God (1 Corinthians 3:16), the circumcision (Philippians 3:3), the Israel of God (Galatians 6:16). We are called a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, a chosen people, a holy nation (1 Peter 2:9) and we are sons of God (John 1:12), the kings and priests of God (Revelation 1:6), the Bride of Christ (2 Corinthians 11:2) and finally, the Body of Christ (1 Corinthians 12).

Ours is the final promise

We have the final promise. Our covenant is in God Who has fulfilled His promise, and Who did so Himself. We proclaim that this covenant, this promise, is both new and eternal.

St. Paul in addressing the Hebrews, tells us (Hebrews 9:11-12):

But when Christ appeared…he entered once for all into the Holy Place, taking not the blood of goats and calves but his own blood, thus securing an eternal redemption.

Paul confirms that Jesus told us that He had come to do the Father’s will, that is, to fulfill the Father’s promises, and that (Hebrews 10:10):

by that will we have been sanctified through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ once for all.

Today’s second reading from first Peter says the same:

Christ suffered for sins once,
the righteous for the sake of the unrighteous,
that he might lead you to God.—¨

The symbol/sign of the final promise

Thus the cross of Christ is our symbol, our sign, our joy, our happiness, our boast. It is the sign of God’s coming to fulfill His promises. It is the granting of fulfillment to all those who come seeking God’s truth. That is you, that is me. All whose hearts desire God share in the promise, and yes, even those who reject God. They too share in the promise. The cross, the body and blood of Christ given to us, is an everlasting contract. It is a contract written by God, written out through the sacrificial death of God’s only Son, our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, and signed in His blood.

Living in the promise

If I told you that you had just won one million dollars you might be amazed for a second. Then you would look at me rather intently and think: ‘Deacon, where did you get a million and why are you giving it away?’

We stand here, looking at this beautiful cross, and ponder God’s remarkable promise. We are God’s children, household, people, heirs, a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, a holy nation. We are God’s sons, kings and priests, the Bride of Christ and the Body of Christ. Sometimes we look at all this, rather intently, and can’t really believe that all of this is ours. Yet it is. We posses the promise of God and we posses its fulfillment.

The response — that is up to us.

We are called to respond, to acknowledge the reality of God’s promise, and to share our knowledge of this gift. The promise has changed everything. Make the sign of the cross, acknowledge the Holy Faith, recall the promise, and share it. Tell Jew and Gentile alike: Hearts and minds have been renewed, The favor and blessing of God is here, sins are forgiven, and the Holy Spirit dwells here. Echo the words the Lord spoke:

“This is the time of fulfillment.
—¨The kingdom of God is at hand.—¨
Repent, and believe in the gospel.”

Amen.

Homilies,

Quinquagesima Sunday

First reading: Hosea 2:16-17,21-22
Psalm: Ps 103:1-4,8,10,12-13
Epistle: 2 Corinthians 3:1-6
Gospel: Mark 2:18-22

—No one pours new wine into old wineskins. Otherwise, the wine will burst the skins, and both the wine and the skins are ruined. Rather, new wine is poured into fresh wineskins.—

The purpose of the old fast

Today’s Gospel begins with a statement about the fasting of John’s disciples and the Pharisees. A group walks up to Jesus and says: “Why do the disciples of John and the disciples of the Pharisees fast, but your disciples do not fast?”

Isn’t that annoying? It isn’t that the question itself is annoying, it is that the question is being asked both as a trap and a comparative.

We get into trouble when we compare, when we contrast two things without knowing much about either.

Certainly, the disciples of John and the Pharisees fasted, and they took it very seriously. What we’re missing is the basis of their fast. Why did they fast? Why didn’t Jesus’ disciples fast? Should we fast?

Many of us only know fasting within the context of the Church, or perhaps we recollect people from other religions who fast, or fasting for political purposes — the hunger strike. But why did John’s disciples and the Pharisees fast?

Both the Pharisees and John’s disciples fasted as part of their expectation. In reality they were a people without. They knew of the promised Messiah, but they stood without. All they had were expectation and deep, deep longing. The expectation and the longing led them to fast — to fast in the hope that their personal sacrifice, their mortification, might bring about the Messiah’s arrival. Perhaps, John’s disciples knew that the Messiah was near, that His time was drawing close. In John 3:22-30 John the Baptist had already pointed to Jesus, who was baptizing in Judea, as the bridegroom.

The old fast, referenced by this group that approached Jesus, was the fast of longing and desire. It was the fast held by a people still waiting, still expecting, but without the Messiah.

Jesus’ disciples have cause for joy

Jesus’ disciples weren’t fasting. In fact they were breaking a lot of rules. They were working – picking grain on the Sabbath, they weren’t fasting at the appointed times, they were doing all sorts of crazy things, like curing the sick and driving out demons, raising the dead, proclaiming —Repent, for the Kingdom of God is at hand.— They saw the signs and heard the words. Over the past few weeks the Gospels tell us that they heard the bystanders marvel: “We have never seen anything like this.” Jesus’ disciples had cause to party, to literally, rejoice. For them, there was no purpose to fasting. The sick, the leper, and the unclean were healed and were welcome, the possessed were freed, tax collectors and sinners followed Jesus and ate with Him, He spoke to the Samartian and the Gentile. Their Jesus was the loving welcome and open invitation to repentant sinners. He was the victor over all enemies, most particularly over sin. He was the expectation fulfilled. The Messiah was with them.

Jesus is the bridegroom, the Church is His bride

As I mentioned, John the Baptist made it very clear:

He who has the bride is the bridegroom; the friend of the bridegroom, who stands and hears him, rejoices greatly at the bridegroom’s voice; therefore this joy of mine is now full.

Given 2,000 years of history we well know that the bridegroom has come. We have a lot of perspective. Yet it is key that we understand, as we are about to walk into our Lenten journey, that the bridegroom has come, that we are standing in the midst of the nuptial celebration. Our joy, like John’s, must be full. Jesus Christ, our Lord and Savior has taken us into His outstretched arms. He calls us to the celebration. The old fast is dead. It no longer has meaning or purpose. The longing is over.

We hold, in our hands, in our hearts, in our homes, in our parish, in our Holy Polish National Catholic Church, the true joy that comes from knowing that our fulfillment has arrived. Yet we are called to the fast.

The wine and wineskin

Jesus’ description of new wine in old wineskins will help us in understanding the new fast.

The people Jesus was talking to used animal skin containers for carrying wine. The animal’s skin was removed, it was sewn up with the fur side out, and an opening was left in the skin to form a spout. Because these skins were used quickly they weren’t tanned. New wine could be put into new wineskins because they were soft and pliable. As the wine fermented the new wineskins could take the pressure, stretching and expanding to suit the wine. Over time, the skins would become hard and brittle. If you put new wine into the old skin the fermentation process would cause the old skin to burst, ruining both the skin and the wine.

What is the new wine

Jesus comes to us as the new wine. The Pharisees, all those who stood waiting, were set in their ways. They were so accustomed to fasting, to their despair over the long wait for the Messiah, that they no longer hoped. The hope was replaced by the process of fasting for the sake of fasting. Jesus called them on this many times, telling them that they fasted so that they would be seen as fasting, fasting for the people’s approval, not God’s. They were the old skins. As Jesus tried to pour His teaching into their hearts their old and brittle hearts burst. Their hearts did not burst in joy, but in anger and pain. Don’t mess with our fast, can’t you see how right we are? They fasted in expectation, but when the fulfillment of the expectation came, they missed it.

Jesus’ disciples, they saw and heard. They were celebrating. They were bursting with joy, because their new, regenerated hearts, could hold Jesus – the new wine, the finest wine, like the wine at Canna, was in their midst. Jesus’ disciples were the new wine skins, open to accepting the reality of the Messiah.

What is the new wine skin

Like the disciples, we are new wine skins. Our Christian life is filled with the joy that comes from Jesus’ call, and our acceptance of His reality.

But deacon, I feel old and brittle. I don’t like new wine in my old body. I am comfortable, even with my familiar sins. I love Jesus of course, but I really don’t need a lot of this filling up. If it happens I just might burst. You know, it was ok for the disciples. They were there, they saw and heard, they could be pliable. I can’t.

So we embark, all of us, with our comfortable hearts and our dried out skins, and our jars of Nivea and Eucerine, and hey Magge, is that Palmolive… We embark on this Lenten journey.

What is the new fast

God asked Hosea to tell us:

I will lead her into the desert and speak to her heart.
She shall respond there as in the days of her youth, when she came up from the land of Egypt.

Our hearts may feel old and dry. We may very well be the most complacent people on the planet. I may be the laziest deacon in the history of the Church, but we are called into the Lenten desert. In this Lenten desert we are to take up the new fast. We are to fast, to put things out of our lives, and to develop the discipline we need to be good Christians. Through this process we will regain the flexibility, the openness we need, to accept the reality of Jesus.

If we acknowledge that we are complacent and comfortable, if we get that far, it is still a long road to making the changes that are necessary. Those changes aren’t something done through our will. Who can say: ‘Today I am lazy, but tomorrow I will be new, active and alive? It doesn’t work that way. That’s not the way we are built.

The new fast, the fast that comes from our joy, provides the mechanism we need to step out of who we are, in baby steps. If we cannot give up meat on Wednesdays and Fridays in Lent, how will be give up even one sin. If we cannot say no to small sins, to small acts of selfishness, how will we conquer the big ones? If our self discipline is lacking, let us set, with God’s grace, to discipline and mortify ourselves.

The Protestant preacher John Piper says it this way:

Never, NEVER does God ask you to deny yourself a greater value for a lesser value. That’s what sin is. On the contrary, always, ALWAYS, God calls us to surrender second-rate, fleeting, unsatisfying pleasures in order to obtain first-rate, eternal, satisfying pleasures.

Through this new fast we are transformed. We give up on things of lesser value, second-rate, fleeting, unsatisfying pleasures for something of far greater value, eternal life in Jesus Christ. We become what Paul says of us:

You are our letter, written on our hearts, known and read by all,
shown to be a letter of Christ administered by us, written not in ink but by the Spirit of the living God, not on tablets of stone but on tablets that are hearts of flesh.

Through the new fast, through this Lent, our hearts will be transformed. Our old wineskins become new. When our hearts are filled with the wine that is the Word of God, the indwelling of the Holy Spirit, and the presence of Christ, they do not burst in anger or resentment. Rather, they hold it all and beam with the light, the joy, the happiness that is Jesus Christ.

Let us pray:

Lord Jesus Christ, You call us to the discipline of the Lenten fast, to achieve, with Your help, the strength to overcome sin. Grant us, in Your great compassion and mercy, a fruitful fast. May our fast renew our hearts, bringing them to life, making them able to hold the fulness of Your joy-filled Word, and causing them to show forth the light of Your truth — new hearts to hold Your kingdom’s new wine. Amen.

Homilies,

Sexagesima Sunday

It is I, I, who wipe out,
for my own sake, your offenses;
your sins I remember no more.

God grants forgiveness

Let’s face it, we love miracles. When we hear of a healing, of an event that is, for all practical purposes, so unlikely, we immediately think: Miracle!

The Gospel texts are replete with miracles. Jesus performed all sorts of miracles, from the forgiveness of sins to the raising of the dead.

Ooops – hold the phone. What does that mean exactly? Is there a scale of miracles, forgiveness of sins on the easy side and the raising of the dead being on the really, really tough side?

As we continue in our preparation for the Lenten journey, let us focus on the miracle of forgiveness. Indeed, today’s readings and Gospel tell us that God is the one who grants forgiveness, and that forgiveness is his most awesome miracle.

He forgives out of His will and kindness

God called His chosen people to a journey. From the day that Abram picked up his tent posts, gathered his sheep, and headed off from Ur to who-knows-where, to the day Jesus became incarnate among us, the chosen people were on a journey. We need to take an example from this journey, a journey filled with long interludes where the chosen people chose wrongly.

When the chosen people sinned they did it big time: false gods, bad kings, weak judges, faithlessness abounding. The little victories, the little glories only came when they were humbled, at their weakest, and without anything that might save. At those times they came to their senses and turned to God. When they were at the lowest of low points they put on sackcloth and ashes, they fasted, they prayed, they sacrificed, they read from the Torah and recalled all that God had done for their ancestors and said these words: Lord, forgive us for we have sinned in Your eyes.

Over and over we hear the judges, kings, and prophets of Israel recounting their sin. In Isaiah (Isaiah 59:12): —For our transgressions are multiplied before thee, and our sins testify against us; for our transgressions are with us, and we know our iniquities— We hear their pleas for forgiveness echoed in the words of the prodigal son (Luke 15:18) —Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son; treat me as one of your hired servants.”

If we look at their journey we see some awesome miracles. However awesome, those miracles depended on the people’s recognition of the wrongs they committed, and their making a request for forgiveness. When they do that we see forgiveness flowing from God. God shows Himself as the source of a forgiveness that is complete, merciful, and kind. The horror of the sin is not just forgiven, it is forgotten, its memory wiped out. By God’s miracle Israel finds forgiveness. Every step in Israel’s journey shows us the depth and breadth of God’s forgiveness. When the chosen people repented, God forgave. He did not hold their sin against them.

God’s promises are fulfilled in Jesus not in law

Throughout the journey the chosen people were preparing, moving toward the point in time when mercy would flow down from heaven. God promised that the Savior would come. He never told Israel that salvation would come through the law, or the practice of specific techniques for washing, cooking, or building temples. Those things were secondary, given as techniques to assist in the preparation for the Savior. Paul tells us that Jesus Christ was the fulfillment of the law. The laws of yes, no, yes, yes, no, no, no, oh, and yes there, no there were no more. Paul tells us:

For however many are the promises of God, their Yes is in him

God’s promises are yes, that is, they are fulfilled in Jesus Christ. Jesus, God among us, brings us the fulness of every promise God ever gave us. Included in those promises is the promise of forgiveness for those who acknowledge their sin and repent. As it was for repentant Israel, so will it be for us, the new Israel.

The dichotomy between God’s sole authority and our actions

There is a great dichotomy between our poor imitation of God and God’s ability to forgive.

Certainly, we practice forgiveness. We forgive our spouses, children, co-workers, the guy who cut us off on the way to church — we did forgive him didn’t we? Yet, being honest, we know that we fall short in forgiving the way God does.

God’s forgiveness is full and complete. This is what we heard in reading Isaiah 43:25 this morning: “I, I am He who blots out your transgressions for my own sake, and I will not remember your sins.— In designing the Ark of the Covenant, kept in the Holy of Holies in the Jewish temple, we see that God placed the Ark upon the mercy seat, the place from which His grace of forgiveness flowed. The Jewish term for that place, that seat, meant the place where sins are wiped out — remembered no more. In the Letter to the Hebrews (Hebrews 8:12, Hebrews 10:17) we hear: —For I will be merciful toward their iniquities, and I will remember their sins no more.” and “I will remember their sins and their misdeeds no more.”

Over and over we hear of the totality of God’s mercy. We know those words to be true. We know that God grants a forgiveness that is total, that is beyond our comprehension, that is miraculous, and that is solely dependent on His mercy. We can’t forgive the way He does. We can’t demand His forgiveness or force it. Yet we know that God forgives. Isaiah tells us that God forgives for His own sake. So here we are, on our knees, asking, asking like Israel asked. We demand nothing, yet we rely on His mercy. We can do nothing, yet we count on His promise, sealed in the blood of our Lord and Savior.

It takes effort

Israel’s journey , Jesus’ instruction, and ultimately His sacrifice on the cross are the cause of our hope.

Unable to get near Jesus because of the crowd,
they opened up the roof above him.
After they had broken through,
they let down the mat on which the paralytic was lying.
When Jesus saw their faith, he said to the paralytic,
“Child, your sins are forgiven.”

Jesus shows us that our effort bears fruit, it leads to certainty.

Lent is nearly upon us. We need to grab onto this assurance. Imagine Jesus reclining at table. He wasn’t unaware of what was going on. Stuff was likely falling on Him from a bunch of guys ripping a hole in the ceiling. Think of Jesus, sitting in your living room, covered in drywall dust, a stranger laying on your coffee table. This wasn’t an easy climb to the roof. Ripping open that hole, persevering through it, getting the man on the mat through the roof and down to Jesus required determination.

The reward for the determination was exactly what?

I think that everyone was disappointed when they heard: “Child, your sins are forgiven.” Come on Jesus! Give us a spinning sun, dancing paralytics, visions, the entertainment we so desire from —great— miracles. Jesus showed the doubtful the grand miracle they needed, enough so that they were astonished. The paralyzed man got up, picked up his mat, and walked away. That said, the miracle happened fifteen minutes before, when Jesus forgave the man’s sins.

The greatest miracle, the greatest payoff for the effort displayed that day, was a blotting out of the paralyzed man’s sins.

Our preparation

In our preparation for the Great Lent let us recall the greatest miracle, the miracle of forgiveness. “Child, your sins are forgiven.” and again: “Child, your sins are forgiven.” Again and again, five words, one great miracle. Five words and the God-man on the cross. The mercy seat is covered in His blood and our sins wiped out.

Our efforts, like those of the men bringing their friend through the roof of the local gathering place, must be persistent. In preparing for Lent we know that our journey is much like Israel’s, filled with long interludes where we’ve lost our way. Having lost our way, we need to capture the opportunity being presented. We have the opportunity to kneel, not in despair and hopelessness, but in recognition of the promise — the promised miracle, the blotting out of every offense we ever committed, awaits our asking.

Our lifelong effort/climb

We are on a journey, a journey of a lifetime. Whether we have a difficult journey or an easy one, a hard climb or a stroll to the top, dumb moves or dumb luck, there is one miracle we must rely on. That miracle is the greatest miracle, the miracle of forgiveness. God awaits our perseverance and grants us this gift, as is His will. Let us follow the example of the patriarchs, prophets, kings, the four men bearing their friend, the saints through the ages, our ancestors. Let us put forth the effort to ask, relying on God’s proven mercy, relying on our effort to repent of wrongs and ask forgiveness.

Homilies,

Septuagesima Sunday

First reading: Leviticus 13:1-2,44-46
Psalm: Ps 32:1-2,5,11
Epistle: 1 Corinthians 10:31-11:1
Gospel: Mark 1:40-45

“The one who bears the sore of leprosy
shall keep his garments rent and his head bare,
and shall muffle his beard;
he shall cry out, ‘Unclean, unclean!’—

Definition of uncleanliness

A quick perusal of Wikipedia tells us that unclean can mean: something which is not clean or which lacks purity. It is a term that is found in the Old Testament. The Hebrew term tamei refers to a state of ritual impurity, things which require purification. The term is also used for types of animals which are always tamei. The terms carries through to Islam meaning a state which may require ablutions, or referring to ritually impure food.

When we think of Jewish references to things that are unclean we immediately think of pork, other non-kosher foods like shell fish, and the improper mixing of meat and dairy. It is very complex, but you get the picture.

According to the book of Leviticus, the purpose of Jewish kashrut, or dietary laws, is to instill a sense of ritual purity and holiness among the Jewish people. Scholars point out that the Hebrew word for “holiness” is etymologically related to the Hebrew word for “distinction” or “separation.” The most widely accepted theory is that those laws serve to distinguish between the Israelites and the non-Israelite nations of the world. Gordon Wenham writes: “The laws reminded Israel what sort of behavior was expected of her, that she had been chosen to be holy in an unclean world.

We can say that holding a person to be unclean causes that person to be apart from the community. If you are apart from the community you are apart from God, because God chooses to live amongst us in community.

Obviously, our reading from Leviticus declares lepers as separate from the community, separate to the point where they are marked as apart, by their appearance and by their proclamation: —unclean, unclean.—

Who is unclean

We continue to recognize ‘uncleanliness.’ Every people and every culture marks the unclean as being apart. Christianity has not been immune to this trend. In fact, Christianity may be one of the worst offenders. We’ve created whole new classes of uncleanliness. We’ve set ourselves against each other. In many instances the people who bear Christ’s name are the first to point out distinction, disagreement, and uncleanliness amongst His people.

Christians have taken each and every sin, and have turned those sins into more than the failure they should represent. Rather, we have taken sin and turned it into a marker of pervasive, deep-seated uncleanliness. A man with sin is no longer a man in need of repentance, a man to whom the door of forgiveness is open, rather he is an outcast, a part of a race that is apart. He is a leper.

Where Christianity has failed modern secular society has taken up the torch. We could each produce a list of egregiously unclean politicians, actors, and sports figures. We could even throw in a few relatives, those unclean black sheep we’re embarrassed over.

Our definitions are not God’s definitions

In defining uncleanliness Jesus says (Matthew 23:25-28):

“Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for you cleanse the outside of the cup and of the plate, but inside they are full of extortion and rapacity.
You blind Pharisee! first cleanse the inside of the cup and of the plate, that the outside also may be clean.
“Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for you are like whitewashed tombs, which outwardly appear beautiful, but within they are full of dead men’s bones and all uncleanness.
So you also outwardly appear righteous to men, but within you are full of hypocrisy and iniquity.”

Jesus was speaking to the Pharisees, because as St. Luke conveys, Jesus had gone to dine in the house of a Pharisee, but did not wash before He ate. The Pharisee was astonished: Jesus was eating while ritually impure. What the Pharisee didn’t know was that Jesus was the purity of God, and that He saw into the Pharisee’s heart, which was unclean.

Jesus uses his encounters with lepers, with the dead, and with the Pharisees to illustrate God’s understanding of uncleanliness. The things that God is concerned about are the unclean things that are inside of us, well hidden from the world. These are the things that are destroying our souls. Factors of ritual impurity mean nothing if they are no more than an excuse for ignoring our sins.

From this we get a true picture of God’s concern. God’s concern is for us and for our hearts. God instructs: look after your faults, repent of them, and seek forgiveness. In example after example Jesus reaches out for the sinful, not to deny or whitewash their sins, but to call them out of their sins, to perfect them. In doing this God shows us that He is the one who perfects.

In encounter after encounter Jesus points to the fact that the Pharisees, His apostles, the bystanders, and stone throwers did not know what they were talking about. When they pointed to the sins of others Jesus asked them to consider their sins. In doing this God shows us that He is the one who knows and judges.

We learn that the context for God’s relationship with us is love and mercy.

Jesus wants to heal us

The Leper asks Jesus: “If you wish, you can make me clean.

In reply we hear that Jesus was moved with pity.

he stretched out his hand,
touched him, and said to him,
“I do will it. Be made clean.”—¨

During the Penitential Rite, which is part of every Holy Mass, we fall to our knees and examine our consciences. We enumerate our sins and seek God’s forgiveness. In asking for forgiveness we pledge to amend our lives, to change through repentance, and to reform ourselves with the help of God’s grace. Through the hands of the priest God reaches out, He palaces His hand on our shoulder, and He heals us.

Jesus wants to heal us. He wants to have us in His community, in this community, a community that lives in His presence. He does not ask that we exclude anyone by calling them unclean, but that we include ourselves through a recognition of our uncleanliness, an uncleanliness that will be washed away. Jesus stands ready to say to us: “I do will it. Be made clean.“—¨

Jesus’ healing has a precondition

Jesus heals us, and His gift of healing is free. Because this healing is God’s gift He sets a condition. The condition is our repentance and sorrow. It is interesting to note that the leper had to ask for Jesus’ healing. Like the leper we must ask. As we enter this pre-Lenten season we must reconnect with this responsibility, first and foremost for ourselves. We must come to Jesus and ask. That humility, the recognition of our personal state of uncleanliness, and true sorrow for that state, is required so that, with God’s help, we might change. If we are ready to change, if we have a notion that change is necessary, then Jesus stands ready. In healing the leper Jesus shows that His healing reconnects us. We, who were unclean in our sin, who were outsiders, will be made whole and clean, part of the community of believers, the community of God’s sons and daughters.

Jesus’ healing is complete

The most remarkable thing is this: Jesus’ healing is complete and total. Jesus’ blood washes our robes and makes them white. Think about that. Jesus turns our soiled, unclean robes to robes of dazzling white. That is the power and magnificence of God’s healing. Whenever we face doubt, whenever we find our faith faltering, recall those robes. See them for what they are, and know that Jesus makes them pure and clean. There’s no ring-around-the-collar, there’s no grey tinge. Our robes aren’t left off-white. As we ascend the mountain of Calvary with our Lord and Savior, as we climb behind Him, remember that the blood that flows back down upon us, bought at the cost of His sacrificial death, is the surest sign of His desire that we be made whole in Him, that we be made clean.

Jesus’ blood washes the world. Whenever we face the temptation to call others unclean, we must see their robes washed white in the very same blood. Whenever we have cause to criticize the uncleanliness of others let us think upon our sinfulness.

Jesus is in the healing business

My friends,

All of this, this parish, our Holy Church, the teachings of the Fathers and the Apostles, the great sacraments the Lord has given us, are all for this. They are given that we may be made whole, that we may be healed, that we might recognize the fact the Jesus washes us clean so that we might live with Him forever.

We can define uncleanliness, we can seek it out in others, we can set ourselves apart and declare ourselves separate from our brothers and sisters. If we do, we passed right by Jesus. Somehow, we missed Him. Look deep, look inside, fall at His feet, may we ever fall on our knees, knowing that in a moment we can stand, assured of healing, with robes white as snow.

Let these words, from the Fifty-first Psalm instruct us, recalling that God comes to heal, to remove the uncleanliness that matters, and to remove it with His blood:

Have mercy on me, O God,
according to thy steadfast love;
according to thy abundant mercy blot out my transgressions.
Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity,
and cleanse me from my sin!
For I know my transgressions,
and my sin is ever before me.

Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean;
wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.
Fill me with joy and gladness;
let the bones which thou hast broken rejoice.
Hide thy face from my sins,
and blot out all my iniquities.
Create in me a clean heart, O God,
and put a new and right spirit within me.
Cast me not away from thy presence,
and take not thy holy Spirit from me.
Restore to me the joy of thy salvation,
and uphold me with a willing spirit.

O Lord, open thou my lips,
and my mouth shall show forth thy praise.

Amen.