Thursday, September 24, 2020

Homily for Ordinary Time 26 - Sept 27, 2020

 

Homily for Ordinary Time 26

September 27, 2020

Ambition and Kenosis

 

            One of the greatest Catholic movies ever made was the movie “A Man for All Seasons” about St. Thomas More, the great English martyr. Thomas More was the chancellor of England – second-in-command to the king – who was put to death for refusing to acknowledge King Henry VIII as head of the Church in England. Thomas More died, in his own words, “The King’s good servant, but God’s first” as he stayed faithful to the Pope and the true Catholic Faith despite great political pressure.

            In the movie, one of St. Thomas More’s associates was a young, educated man by the name of Richard Rich. Richard wanted to make a career in government and rise up in the nobility, so he begged Thomas More to find him a government job. More offered him a fine job as a schoolteacher, but Rich turned it down, angling for a better position. But Thomas More encouraged him, saying, “Be a teacher, Richard. You’d make a fine teacher, maybe even a great one.”

            Richard responded, “If I was a great teacher, who would know it?”

            The saint answered, “Your pupils, your friends, God. That’s not a bad public.”

            But Richard was determined, and through intrigue and politics, managed to find himself an opportunity – he was offered to become the attorney general of Wales if he would only witness, in court, that Thomas More had spoken against the King. He could have a position, a noble title, servants, a manor house – all he had to do was commit a little perjury.

            And the temptation was too strong – Richard Rich denounced his former friend in court, leading to his execution. But as Richard Rich was leaving the courtroom, Thomas More stopped him and said one of the best lines in literature: “Why, Sir Richard, it profits a man nothing to give his soul for the whole world…but for Wales?” Thomas More died a martyr with integrity; Sir Richard Rich went down in history, in the words of one historian, as “a man of whom nobody had ever spoken a good word.”

            Ambition – the desire to rise up, to achieve lofty goals, to become somebody – is very different than the attitude that St. Paul speaks about in his letter to the Philippians. Paul writes, “Have in you the same attitude that is also in Christ Jesus, Who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God something to be grasped. Rather, he emptied himself, taking the form of a slave. He humbled himself, becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.”

            Quite the opposite of ambition! There is a word in Greek that describes perfectly what Jesus did – the word is “kenosis”. Kenosis means “self-emptying”, lowering yourself, pouring yourself out, making yourself nothing. Thus John the Baptist could say: “He (Jesus) must increase; I must decrease.” This is kenosis, following the example of Christ.

            The Second Person of the Blessed Trinity was adored by angels, but He emptied Himself and was spit upon by soldiers. God Himself, Whom all creation serves, bent down and washed His Apostles’ feet. The Lord of the entire universe consented to be nailed to a tree. He Who is the source of every good thing chose to be born into abject poverty. Kenosis – self-emptying – the attitude of Jesus.

            When I lived in Rome I used to make retreats at a monastery of American Benedictine monks in Norcia, Italy, where St. Benedict was born. The first time I was there, I arrived in time for dinner and was greeted by the abbot. He approached me and said, “Have you had your hands washed?” I thought it was an odd question – I mean, I’m not five years old, I do wash my hands before dinner! So I was momentarily confused until he grabbed a bowl and pitcher and towel and proceeded to ritually wash my hands and dry them on the towel, saying, “Welcome.” Here was the leader of the monastery, the man whom every other monk obeyed, who was willing to wash the hands of a guest. Kenosis, lived-out.

            So what does this mean for us? We have ambitions and goals about many things. Perhaps we want to become an all-state football player; maybe we aim to get accepted by Harvard or Yale; perhaps we want to rise up the corporate ladder and are pining for that next promotion; maybe we are working to lose thirty pounds. Does this mean we as Christians should not desire such things?

            The answer: it depends on two things.

            It depends upon our motivation. Why do we want them? The sole motivation for all our goals should be for the glory of God and to better serve our neighbor. We should not hide our gifts and talents and think that we don’t deserve honors, awards, promotions, but we must ask ourselves why we are pursuing them. It shouldn’t be about our vanity, our looks, or our ego. But if you have the talents to be an all-state football player, do it for the glory of God. If you can advance in your career, do it so you can better support your family and more conscientiously take care of the employees under you. Ambition isn’t bad when it’s done for God’s glory and the service of others, but it must not be done for our own glory.

            Secondly, it depends how we pursue these goals. Will you get promoted in the company because you work hard, or because you backbite and kiss-up to the boss and step on others as you climb the corporate ladder? Will you get into Harvard because you worked hard, or will you fudge the truth on your application? You may have the desire to be a sports all-star, but that does not mean we can neglect coming to Sunday Mass. We can have good goals but they must be accomplished by keeping our integrity and our priorities in the right order.

            Christ was willing to empty Himself, not exalt Himself. We may pursue our goals and achieve success, but in doing so we empty ourselves of our ego and our self-glorification. Everything we achieve should be for the glory of God. We should be truly ambitious about advancing His Kingdom and seeking our holiness. Let us and our egos decrease so that He may live and reign in us.

Thursday, September 17, 2020

Homily for Ordinary Time 25 - September 20, 2020

 

Homily for Ordinary Time 25

September 20, 2020

Life is Christ

 

            If you knew that you were going to die tomorrow, what would your reaction be? Would you be at peace, knowing that you would join Jesus – or would you beg the Lord for a few more days, or a few more years?

            Blessed Chiara Badano faced a similar choice. Growing up in Italy in the 1980s, she was a normal, fun, popular teenager – she played guitar and tennis, had crushes on boys, and loved to hang out with friends. She also had a deep relationship with the Lord Jesus through her local youth group, and grew active in her Catholic Faith. At the age of sixteen, she was playing tennis when a sharp pain in her shoulder forced her to drop her racket. After a series of tests, she was diagnosed with bone cancer – a particularly painful trial, but she accepted it with great faith, saying, “This is for you, Jesus – if You want it, then I want it too.”

            She underwent chemo, and every time a clump of her hair would fall out, she would hold it up and say, “For You, Jesus.” The chemo made her tremendously weak, but she would use a walker to get around. She befriended one particular fellow patient who suffered from depression, and would go on walks with her through the hospital garden, which were agonizingly exhausting for Chiara. When her family urged her to rest more, she said, “I will rest in Heaven.” She even refused morphine because she wanted to consciously offer her sufferings to God. At one point she said to her parents, “There's only one thing I can do now: to offer my suffering to Jesus because I want to share as much as possible in His sufferings on the cross.”

            After a two-year battle with cancer, it became clear that she wasn’t improving. She was more than resigned to death – she longed for it. When the doctors told her that she had no hope, she responded, “If I had to choose between [being healed] and going to heaven, I wouldn't hesitate. I would choose heaven.”

            News of this remarkable dying girl began to spread, so much so that Cardinal Saldarini, the Archbishop of Turin, Italy, visited her and remarked, “The light in your eyes is splendid. Where does it come from?” Chiara responded, “I simply try to love Jesus as much as I can.”

            As she was dying she gave two instructions to her mother: first, to bury her in a wedding dress, because her death would be her wedding with Jesus; and secondly, not to mourn, because union with Jesus would be a time of great rejoicing.

            How many of us would have faith like that? For Chiara, as for St. Paul, life was Christ and death is gain. What powerful words St. Paul uses: “I long to depart this life and be with Christ, for that is far better.” Yet most of us do not desire Heaven as much as we desire a long life here on earth! We’d often rather enjoy the passing pleasures of this world to the endless joys of the life to come!

            How can we change so that “life is Christ and death is gain”? Two practical thoughts.

            First, we must pray! If we do not enjoy spending fifteen minutes with God every day, we will not want to spend eternity with Him in Heaven! Prayer is how we become accustomed to breathing the air of Heaven. He has shown us manifold signs of His love: the beauty of nature, the love of family and friends, His mercy on the Cross…prayer is our response of love to such a generous God. We cannot say “life is Christ” if He is just an afterthought in our day. Rather, our time with Him must be our bedrock, our foundation. It’s more than just “reciting prayers” – it is spending time in silence, with His Word (the Bible), speaking to Him from our hearts and listening to Him.

            Then, ask God daily what He wants you to do. When I was at Trinity High School, I used to ask the kids, “What college do you want to go to? What career do you want to have?” But I realized that was the wrong question – I should have been asking, “Where do you think God wants you to go to college? What career is God calling you to?” Our lives are not ours to do whatever we want with them. As we heard last week in the readings, “None of us lives for oneself, and no one dies for oneself. Both in life and death we belong to God.” So ask the Lord daily, “How do you want me to use this day? How can I glorify You today?”

            This past week I had lunch with an old friend who was recently baptized. He had been raised without faith, but due to God’s grace and the example of his wife, he embraced the Catholic Church and was baptized right after the quarantine. He was telling me that his wife, a devout Catholic, wanted to purchase a second home on a beach somewhere. But this man, despite being a newly-minted Catholic, said to me, “I just don’t think that’s what glorifies God! It just seems so self-indulgent. Can’t we do something better with our money, for God?”

            If life is about Christ and not about us, then we cannot live it self-indulgently! Self-indulgence is the American vice, because in many ways we see it as the culmination of the American dream. We work hard, earn money, and then we think we earned our right to relax and enjoy the good things in life. If that’s the case, then life’s not about Christ, it’s about you – your wants, your pleasures, your time, your money. My friends, to say that “life is Christ” means that our time, our money, our talents, our health all belong to Him – we are not free to do what we want with them. St. Paul says, “Christ will be magnified in my body” – every last breath, every last minute, every last dollar of Paul’s belonged to Christ. What does the Lord want you to do?

Then we will be detached from the things of this world, and attached to Him alone. Back to my original question, the reason we don’t want to die is because we love this world more than we love the Lord. But our lives cannot be about the things of this world. Life is Christ, and death is gain.

Friday, September 11, 2020

Homily for Ordinary Time 24 - Sept. 13, 2020

 

Homily for Ordinary Time 24

September 13, 2020

Paybacks

 

            “I’ll make you pay for this!”

            How many times have we thought this? Someone cuts us off in traffic, so we find a way to get back at them. A person insults us, so we find a way to insult them. When we see some misfortune befall someone who has done us wrong, we say, “Ah, finally they get their paybacks!”

            We may justify such thoughts and desires by saying, “Well, they’re only getting what they deserve” – as if the paybacks were justice. But what would we receive if we were treated with strict justice?

            Because of our sins, all of us deserve to be separated from God. St. Paul says that “the wages of sin is death.” Consider – one unrepentant mortal sin is enough to condemn a soul for eternity! A lot of times we think, “Oh, I’m a pretty good person.” But if a prisoner were to appear before a judge and say, “Judge, I know I murdered that guy, but look at all the good things I’ve done too!” – do you think the judge would let him walk free? On the contrary! It says in Isaiah, “all of our good deeds are like filthy rags”. Just as one drop of poison makes a whole meal sickening, so our sins make our entire souls unfit for the glory of Heaven.

            And when we consider Who we have turned out backs on: the All-Holy God, Pure Love Himself, the One whose purity and holiness is so great that even the angels must shield their eyes…how good God is! How not-good we are! Although we were meant to become radiant saints, all too often we have chosen to wallow in the corruption and filth of sin! Even the smallest sins – the lack of charity, the unkind word, the unchaste glance – are offenses against the infinite goodness of God.

            So, according to strict justice, we could never pay back our debt to God. In today’s parable, the servant owes the king “a huge amount” – the actual Greek says it was 10,000 talents. This would be approximately 200,000 years’ wages! It would have been impossible to pay that off in a thousand lifetimes. In the same way, because of our sins, we owed a debt to God that was literally unpayable – how could we make up for rejecting God’s goodness? We cannot – and that is the point of the Gospel.

            Jesus alone can pay back the debt that we owed God. He took upon Himself the punishment for our crimes, wiping them away on the Cross. And look how easy it is to be forgiven now! A simple Confession to a priest forgives even the most heinous sins. You could have a thousand mortal sins and be one step away from Hell, and in ten minutes be washed as clean as a baptized baby and regain your citizenship in Heaven. Amazing! We don’t have to fast on bread and water or walk a hundred miles barefoot on sharp rocks – no, all we have to do is ask for mercy, and it is given. What a gift – freely given, gratefully received!

            One of the main reasons why people find it hard to forgive is that we forget how much we have been forgiven for. If you struggle to forgive, look at the Cross – as He was hanging there, thinking of you, loving you, He said, “Father, forgive them.” Not just his executioners, but all of us down through the ages who need His mercy. When we realize just how much we need to be forgiven, then it is easier for us to extend that mercy to others.

            Please understand – forgiveness is a choice, not a feeling. It is a choice to acknowledge, “What you did was wrong, it mattered, it hurt – and now I release you from my anger and I do not wish you harm.” We often have to forgive over and over again – every time the anger boils up within our soul, we make a choice to forgive again. Pray for the person who offended you – pray with your lips and mind, even if your heart’s not in it, and eventually your heart will come around.

            Back in the early 1940s, a young, talented girl from Paris named Marie Girtanner was on her way to becoming a famous concert pianist. She had been giving concerts from the age of 9, and was playing before concert halls at age 18. But when Hitler’s Nazis invaded France, she decided to use her talents in a unique way – she would play concerts for the Nazis in order to spy on their activities and gain information for the Resistance.

            Such a daring plot worked for a while, but in 1943, her ploy was uncovered and she was arrested with several other Resistance members. In custody, she was tortured by the Gestapo so badly that she lost the ability to play piano.

            She was finally rescued the following year, but was devastated that she could no longer play music. Turning to her Catholic faith, Maria became a Third Order Dominican, and for the next forty years, prayed to forgive the man who tortured her. It was a daily struggle. As she would later write, “Forgiveness does not come about in the abstract; it calls for someone to whom it can be addressed, someone to whom it can be received.”

            Finally, in 1984, the doctor who tortured her reached out and asked for a visit. What would you say to the man who ruined your life? When she walked into his house, Maria embraced him, and granted him forgiveness. Later she said, “Forgiving him has liberated me.”

            Many times we want justice for those who offend us, while we desire mercy for ourselves. And mercy has been granted to us through the death of God on the Cross. But how we ever pay back the Lord Jesus for His incredible sacrifice on our behalf? We cannot pay Him back. But we can pay it forward – by extending that same mercy to others.

Thursday, September 3, 2020

Homily for Ordinary Time 23 - September 6, 2020

 

Ordinary Time 23

September 6, 2020

Tough Love

 

            One day during the summer of 1852, a wealthy young man named Francois Dorel was approached by a friend who asked him, “Have you heard of the priest in the nearby town of Ars? He is rumored to work miracles. I intend to go to Confession to him tomorrow – will you come with me?”

            The young man Francois had no faith, but he replied, “I will go with you, for perhaps I can go bird hunting in the ponds near Ars, while you go to Confession!”

            So the two of them set off on the two-day journey – the friend making a devout pilgrimage, while Francois brought his gun and his dog for hunting. When they arrived at Ars, they saw crowds of pilgrims surrounding the church, as the priest, St. John Vianney, was out blessing the people. Out of curiosity Francois wanted to see what all the hubbub was about, so he drew near with his dog.

            Immediately the saint stopped blessing the people and looked directly at the young man and exclaimed, “My friend, I wish that your soul was as beautiful as your dog!”

            Francois was cut to the heart. His dog was faithful, loyal, and living as a dog should – but he, a baptized Christian, was unfaithful to God and living in sin! He quickly ran away to a quiet location where he reflected on those words; then, he gave up his dog and gun and made a good Confession to St. John Vianney. The saint urged the young man to become a monk, and Francois died as a holy Trappist.

            One might say that those words of St. John Vianney were harsh or cruel. What an insult! Or…what an act of love. What motivated St. John Vianney to speak such words? He loved souls and wanted them to come to conversion.

            St. Paul tells us that “love is the fulfillment of the law” and that the only debt we should owe to one another is love. But what is love?

            Love is NOT just being nice to people. Love is NOT letting people do whatever they want. Love is NOT affirming people in every choice they make.

            Rather, St. Thomas Aquinas defines love as “willing the good of the other.” We desire the other person’s benefit – even if it is costly, difficult, or uncomfortable. What is the ultimate good of every human being? The salvation of their souls. All the riches, pleasures, comfort, and success of this world cannot compare with the Ultimate Good of possessing God for eternity.

            So if we truly love someone, we should seek their True Good – the salvation of their souls.

            Why is this important? Because our culture completely misunderstands the nature of love. You have probably seen those yard signs around town that have a misunderstanding of love. One yard sign says, “Love is love” – implying that if you do not support homosexual marriage, you are a “hater”. Another yard sign says, “Hate has no home here” – implying that if you support legal restrictions on immigration, you are motivated by hatred. But both of these are based on serious misunderstandings of the nature of love.

            In fact, one of the biggest lies that our culture tells us about love is that if you love someone you have to support every decision they make. This is false! If a child is about to touch a hot stove, you say, “No!” and grab their hand away. Will they cry and be upset? Sure. But is it loving? Absolutely. In the same way, when we see our family members engaging in behavior that is sinful or self-destructive, do we not have an obligation to speak – out of love?

            Jesus instructs us how to do that in the Gospel. He says that first we must go directly to that person (how often do we, instead, go and tell others about a person’s fault, instead of telling the person directly?). If that doesn’t work, join forces and approach them. If that doesn’t work, get the Church involved. Why? Isn’t it easier not to speak up, to live and let live? Should we just let the guy continue cheating on his wife, or let your son keep living with his girlfriend, or let your uncle continue to drink and be abusive to his spouse? Yes, it’s easier – but it’s not loving. If we truly want to love, we must “will the good of the other” – even when it’s difficult.

            But – we must make sure we are motivated by love; that is, by a genuine care and concern for the well-being of others. It is too easy to be motivated by judgment, or self-righteousness, and thereby lose a soul. When we give careful, prudent, discreet advice to help someone change their life, we must also make it clear that we want what is best for them, and that we love them even if we do not approve of their choices.

Love is often tough – Jesus said some very tough things to the scribes and Pharisees – because He loved them. Personally, Jesus has said some very tough things to me in prayer, because He knows I need to change and repent. Perhaps you’ve had the same experience, when God convicts you of sin or shows you how He wants you to change. Yet along with those tough things, we know that we are still His beloved sons and daughters and He wants what is truly best for us.

            So here are the three takeaways from today’s homily: first, love does not mean just being nice, but truly willing the other’s good – and the highest good is eternal salvation with God. Second, to truly love someone might mean to offer them “tough love” in word and deed, because we desire their deep and everlasting happiness. Third, we must make sure that any “tough love” we offer is covered in mercy and compassion, following the example of Jesus.