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Previous Homilies
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Monsignor Krieg
St. Louis Church
SOLEMNITY OF THE BLESSED
VIRGIN MARY, THE MOTHER OF GOD
Num 6: 22-27 Gal 4: 4-7 Lk 2: 16-21
We begin the New Year with a blessing, a blessing originally offered by
Moses and Aaron to the people of Israel, a blessing grounded in the covenant
relationship of God with His people .
:
The LORD bless you and keep you!
The LORD let his face shine upon you, and be gracious to you!
The LORD look upon you kindly and give you peace!
We begin the New Year with an even greater blessing as we celebrate this
closing day of the Feast of Christmas. For the past week we have been
enjoying this feast of quiet joy that bids us remember that the Son of God
is now born in time, the Son of Mary. Blessed beyond belief we begin this
new year in the company of Jesus Christ. The blessing of God is His Son, the
Prince of Peace, and He now lives with us.
“When the fullness of time had come,” St. Paul reminds us, “God sent his
Son, born of a woman, born under the law, to ransom those under the law, so
that we might receive adoption as sons.” Now we must remember that God sent
the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, enabling us to cry out, "Abba,
Father!" In that fullness of time we have been changed; we have been placed
in an intimate relationship with God who, in Christ, is our Papa.
We pick up the gospel story today to find the shepherds responding to the
angelic announcement of the birth: The shepherds went in haste, the gospel
tells us, to Bethlehem and, just as the angels had told them, they found the
infant lying in the manger in the loving care of Mary and Joseph. In awe and
wonder they return to their friends and families to tell an amazed world
what they had heard and seen. They become the first to preach the gospel,
the good news of the coming of Jesus into the world.
Mary, however, remains the contemplative: “Mary kept all these things,
reflecting on them in her heart.” As we become today’s evangelists, we must
now make known to the world the fact of Jesus’ birth. First, however, we
must become contemplative along with Mary to allow the fact of Jesus’ birth
to find a place deep in our minds and hearts.
Today we honor the Mother of God and hear Mary call us to reflect on the
reality of Christmas in our hearts. Mary sensed the fulfilling of the
centuries of waiting when, in the fullness of time, God sends His Son, “born
of a woman, born under the law, to ransom those under the law, so that we
might receive adoption as His children.” “You are no longer a slave”, Paul
says, “but a child of God, and, if a child, then also an heir, through God.”
The coming of the Son of God as man changes the status of us all. In Him we
have become children of God. In Him we have become children of Mary.
“Behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son”, the angel had said
to Mary at Nazareth, “and you shall name him Jesus.” As soon as Mary agreed
and conceived the Child, the mystery of our redemption began to unfold in
time. Even the name chosen for her child spoke of who he was to be for us:
in Hebrew, Jehoshu’a,: “Yahweh saves”. Jesus is the embodiment of God’s
coming to rescue us from sin.
The redemption of humankind, the incarnation of the Son of God, had its
beginning with the creation story itself, even as Adam and Eve are evicted
from Eden. It is renewed in covenant after covenant until the “new and
everlasting covenant” we celebrate in this and every Eucharist. Jesus comes
to us to fulfill the original blessing that Aaron and all who follow were to
invoke over God’s people.
Christmas is the first chapter, as it were, of the mystery of the
incarnation. The full liturgy of Christmas will bring us to Epiphany,
requiring us to manifest the coming of Jesus into the lives of all who
surround us each day. In the liturgy, the story of the incarnation will
continue from Epiphany to Easter and Pentecost. The mysteries of the hidden
life in Nazareth will give way to the public life of preaching and healing,
and the unfolding story will bring us to Calvary, death and resurrection.
We begin a new year. Our lives are the continuation of that story and the
reason for that story. How well do we tell the story? How well does our
daily life continue the story of the incarnation? How truly is Jesus made
flesh in us? We have the whole year to continue the story.
Monsignor Krieg
St. Louis Church
CHRISTMAS
Is 52: 7-10 Heb 1:1-6 Jo 1: 1-18
Every Christmas in the majestic piazza of St. Peter’s Basilica in
Rome we can find a magnificent crèche with heroic sized figures of
Mary and Joseph, of shepherds and wise men. From year to year the
setting changes – sometimes with the traditional stable and manger,
sometimes with a medieval or even a modern setting. It stands as a
wonderful reminder that the story of Christmas is not a fairy tale;
it is the recounting of an event in time that is, in fact, timeless.
Each year in our Christmas liturgy we read the story of Mary and
Joseph in their search for a place for the birth of the Christ
Child; we remember the shepherds with their angelic invitation and
the breath-taking sight of the infant who is the Son of God.
In the gospel of John that we just read for this Mass of Christmas
Day, we are given a more profound picture of what had happened that
first Christmas night. John offers the scene in Bethlehem against
the background of eternity. Earth and heaven are linked, and John’s
gospel account begins as does the Book of Genesis: “In the
beginning” “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with
God, and the Word was God.”
The little baby is the eternal Son of God, completely at home now in
this world which had been fashioned after the pattern of His
reality. “All things came to be through him, and without him nothing
came to be.”
In front of any crèche - heroic-sized as at St. Peter’s, this
beautiful crèche on the sanctuary steps, or the tiny figured stable
in a child’s bedroom, we must remember who is this child; He is the
Word of God, the Eternal Son of the Father. And so, in this Mass
during Christmas Day, we are invited to remember not only the birth
of a child in a stable at Bethlehem; we are called to remember our
God who chose to be one of us.
It’s a beautiful thing that we have come to associate the giving of
gifts at Christmas. It should remind us not of Black Friday and the
hype that gets crowds up in early morning hours, but rather the gift
that is the Christ Child, the gift of a loving father who is God.
At Christmas, and all through our lives, we must be sharing a
picture of Christmas not only of crib, shepherds and a star but a
picture with all the profound reality of the Word who patterns all
being. Isaiah sings of it in the reading we earlier heard: “How
beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him who brings glad
tidings, announcing peace, bearing good news, announcing salvation,
and saying to Zion, "Your God is King!" We make our announcement to
a world that sometimes doesn’t even know the story of the Infant
born in a stable, to say nothing of the more profound reality that
it is the story of the child who is God our King.
We can lament the commercialism and the substitution of inflated
snowmen and reindeer for the Bethlehem scene, but unless we make
ourselves aware of the profound reality of Christmas, we provide the
vacuum into which the inflated figures find their way. In a world
that knows countless children who are victims of war, of famine
created by human greed, children who do not see the light of day
because they die before they can be born, we must announce with
Isaiah: “For the LORD comforts his people,…in the sight of all the
nations.” We must remind the world why the child in the stable was
born.
The author of the Epistle to the Hebrews gives us a wonderful
picture: “in these last days, he has spoken to us through the Son,
whom he made heir of all things and through whom he created the
universe…and who sustains all things by his mighty word.” John
reaffirms the picture: “All things came to be through him, and
without him nothing came to be.” It does stretch our minds beyond
the simple picture of a child in a manger bed.
And John goes on to fill out the picture: “What came to be through
him was life, and this life was the light of the human race.” “The
true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world. He
was in the world, and the world came to be through him.” What John
adds speaks of the greatest tragedy – a tragedy in which we can too
easily participate. “He came to what was his own, but his own people
did not accept him.” As we listen to the Christmas story, as we
stand before the crèche, we can well ask ourselves how well we have
accepted that Child who is the son of Mary and the Son of God.
May the reality of our acceptance of Him bring the joy of Christmas
into all our days ahead. “We saw his glory, the glory as of the
Father's only Son, full of grace and truth.” Merry Christmas!
Father Bob Ring
St. Louis Church
CHRISTMAS
It was going to be
perfect!
Fr. Joe was named
the pastor of St. Gabriel’s in September. It was his first parish as pastor,
and he was going to make sure the Christmas celebrations were perfect.
The church was
decorated beautifully. The choir, totally tuned up. Five times he had
rehearsed the special procession he had planned. Two young children were to
lead the procession, one dressed as Joseph and one as Mary. She would carry
the baby Jesus and place him in the crèche.
The opening
strains of ‘O Come, All Ye Faithful’ began, every one singing full voice.
The two children started down the aisle, everything moving like clockwork.
By the time Mary and Joseph reached the front of the church, both were swept
up in the wonder of the moment. Their eyes were drawn to the angel over the
manger, the Christmas trees, poinsettias, light and wonder in every
direction. Unfortunately, the first marble step was not so noticeable when
you were looking everywhere else, rapt in the moment. So overwhelmed, Mary
missed the first step. Down she went, as the baby Jesus flew into the air.
Down he came, with a jarring crack.
Everyone gasped.
Especially Fr. Joe. He pulled himself together (pastors are trained to do
that), quickly helped little Mary up, and checked that she was OK. She was
fine, though very embarrassed. Then he went over to the baby Jesus, who
didn’t make out so well. A broken arm, and a cracked head. Fr. Joe took the
damaged baby Jesus, placed it in the manger, and Mass proceeded as planned.
After Mass was
over, and all had returned home, Fr. Joe flopped down in a chair with his
head in his hands. What now? What about the next Mass? Well, he looked for
some band aids, patched up the arm, and put a band aid on the cracked head.
It was the best he could do, and back baby Jesus went into the manger. What
happened next, he could never have expected!
Before the next
Mass, Fr. Joe watched several families making a visit to the crèche. First
he noticed Kimmie, from the kindergarten class, with her family. She stared
at the baby Jesus, and then looked up at her Mom.
“Mommy – look!
The baby Jesus has a boo boo. Do you think Mary kissed the real baby Jesus’
boo boos to make them better? I think she probably did. I wonder if he cried
like I do when I get hurt?”
“Yes honey.
That’s why Christmas is so special. God loves us enough to become a baby,
and even get hurt sometimes. Next time you get hurt, you can remember that
Jesus really understands. When you pray, you can talk to him about it.”
One teen came up,
and chuckled at first.
“Man, looks
like baby Jesus had a bad day! But you know, he still looks peaceful.
Guess that makes sense, he is the Prince of Peace. I wonder if Jesus could
teach me how to find some peace inside when I am having a bad day?”
Another teen came
up, looked, thought, and went even a little deeper.
“I never
thought about that. Of course Jesus could get hurt. There must have been the
same kinds of ups and downs we all have. He taught that he is present now in
the bruised and broken. This reminds me of all the bruised and broken kids
in the world today. That’s what Christmas is about. Remembering Jesus was
born so that we could understand God is in folks in need, our brothers and
sisters. When we help bandage and patch up kids who are hurting, we are
showing our love to Him.”
Another family
came up. The mom looked at the baby Jesus, then at the statue of Mary. She
looked back and forth a couple times. You could almost read her thoughts.
With a little tear in her eye, she thought:
“She
understands. She is teaching me, we can’t always protect them, no matter how
much we love them, or want to shield them from hurt and pain. We just have
to love them through it as best we can.”
Kimmie’s
grandparents came up next. They looked at the baby Jesus, and immediately
thought of one of the grandchildren who had serious medical problems. They
looked at Mary, Joseph, the infant, and said a prayer for each of their
grandchildren, and their own children-now-parents, then found their way back
to the pew to sit with the family.
Come homily time,
Fr. Joe decided to throw out what he had planned to preach. He was going to
probe the depths of the incarnation, quoting Doctors of the Church and great
theologians. A good smattering of nice big words….
Instead, he simply
looked over intently at the crèche.
“Yes. Born like
us in all things. He had to grow up. Bumps and bruises. Experience growing
pains. And when the time was right, Jesus, the Son of God and son of Mary
took all our brokenness, hurts, disappointments, tragedies, even our sins
and failings, and carried them to the cross. That amazing, redemptive love
and forgiveness changes everything. He proved sin doesn’t have the last
word. Love triumphs every time. Even when sin does its worse, the incarnate
love of God, the sacrifice, the forgiving, healing, transforming grace Jesus
brings has the last word.
The love of
Mary saying yes, cradling the baby, kissing the boo boos, even standing at
the cross; we celebrate that gift today. The love that was in Jesus, and
that Mary nurtured, that grew stronger and stronger year by year, as he grew
in wisdom and grace, St. Luke tells us. The love that taught, healed,
forgave; that drove out demons, the love that was forgiving to the end: that
is the gift we celebrate today. Love that understands. Love that took flesh.
Love that bore our infirmities. We remember it, experience it, and celebrate
the wonder of it all year after year.
Every time we
come to Mass, we get a glimpse, a taste of that divine love still alive in
our world. We hear and see it in the scriptures, especially as we recognize
our story in THE story. We find it in the community of believers, coming
together to be fed, to be comforted, or challenged, to walk together in
faith. We find it in the wonder and delightful questions, and innocent
prayers of children. In our rituals and prayer. In the brokenness we bring
and offer --- in the healing we can experience. In justice – in mercy. “
May Jesus, God’s
love born in time bless you in a special way this Christmas. May the love of
Christ fill your New Year. I pray that love leads you to join us often,
whether to give thanks for blessings, or to seek help through struggles; to
get bandaged, or to reignite thespark hope. Come to taste community often,
and discover the gifts that come when we listen to the Word, pray with each
other and with the Lord, and experience His presence in the sacraments. Come
to experience the peace Jesus offers us week after week, year after year.
May God bless us,
each and every one this Christmas, and through the New Year.
Monsignor Krieg
St. Louis Church
CHRIST THE KING
Ez: 34: 11-12,
15-17; I Cor 15: 20-26, 28; Mt 25: 31-46
We can’t find many kings in this modern world of ours.
Children react well to the kings they find in stories, and even a
few of us older children still find Arthur and Camelot familiar
figures. The fact is, however, that our present world knows few
kings outside of Camelot and few who resemble Arthur.
A basic element of the notion of a king is the intensely personal
nature of the relationship between him and the people, and in that
personal relationship with the king is the basis for the
relationship among his subjects. Though nations today may not know
many kings, today we are invited into a relationship with a King
through whom our relationship with one another is transformed. We
continue to celebrate the feast Christ the King.
On this last Sunday of the Church’s year, we are invited to look
back at that relationship with Christ the King and with one other.
In our very personal bond with Christ our King we really can find
the basis for our relationship with one another. In a certain sense,
the figure of Christ the King is the embodiment of the first
commandments of Old and New Covenant: You shall love the Lord your
God with your whole being; you shall love your neighbor as you love
yourself.
Ezekiel today reminds us that our king is a shepherd, a shepherd who
knows each of his sheep, who will leave the flock to find the stray,
who rescues them “from every place where they were scattered when it
was cloudy and dark.” “I myself,” God says, “will pasture my sheep.”
How easily we can forget that intensely personal care of an infinite
God for each of us.
Paul reminds us that the Divine Shepherd lays down His life for His
sheep and rises from death for them “so that in Christ shall all be
brought to life, but each one in proper order: Christ the
firstfruits; then, at his coming, those who belong to Christ.” Jesus
makes each of us part of that magnificent relationship “when
everything is subjected to him, then the Son himself will also be
subjected to the one who subjected everything to him, so that God
may be all in all.”
Beautifully Jesus’ dream for His Church, which we see as He prayed
at the Last Supper, will be brought to fulfillment: “Father, may
they be one as we are one.” The unity of humankind grows from the
hand of its creator and finds fulfillment in the Kingship of Christ.
That unity becomes more and more elusive, however, as Christians
fail in fact to find their basic relationship to one another in
Christ.
As the world grows smaller through technology and the gifts of
science, humankind seems to become even more alien within itself.
TVs in separate rooms divide families in many homes, and it is not
unusual to hear of the problem of the couch potato who has become a
TV addict. We’ve seen the addiction of texting which has cost many
lives. If we extend all this to its logical end, it is not
unreasonable to conclude that the only reality that can provide
peace for this world is, in fact, that unity in God for which Jesus
prayed.
“Through Him, with Him and in Him” we pray in every Eucharist, as we
live our relationship with the Father. We offer our lives in union
with Jesus and receive from Him the pledge of eternal life. Through
Jesus our King we live with God and find a home with one another.
If the world today lives without kings, it must still find the unity
that makes human life truly familial and social. There must be a way
to live daily life in a way that admits its true foundation. As we
turn to the gospel on this feast of Christ the King, we are given a
practical way of life and a secret of salvation.
"When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with
him, he will sit upon his glorious throne, and all the nations will
be assembled before him.” The scattered sheep of Ezekiel become one
flock, and the shepherd will judge them on a simple principle: As
you cared for each other’s needs, you cared for me. As you failed to
care for each other’s needs, you failed to care for me. “I was
hungry and you fed me; . . . I was hungry and you failed to feed
me.”
As we endure the financial woes of families, corporations and
nations, we might well find some basic solutions in that familiar
picture of humankind’s judgment. How does our society, national,
international or local, find central to life the caring of all for
one another? Ongoing care for Christ in one another is more than a
tax deduction or even philanthropic giving. It must be a way of life
for all.
Is a king really only a figure in a fairy tale, or is the figure of
at least one king very real in the life and health of peoples and
nations. We hail Christ our King for it is “through Him, with Him
and in Him” that all glory is given to God and all peace and joy are
given to humankind. May we truly find one another in Him. May we
stem the inevitable fall to a loneliness for our world which can so
easily become the beginning of hell itself. May Christ our King
reign in each of us.
Father Al Delmonte
St. Louis Church
31st
SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME
A man struggled up a mountain to ask a guru for the meaning of life.
The guru sighed: “If I knew the meaning of life, would I be perched
on top of a mountain in my underwear?”
Jesus was against seeking wisdom from rabbis, teachers, gurus. He
said to the crowds: “The Scribes and the Pharisees have taken their
seat on the chair of Moses. Therefore, do and observe all things
whatsoever they tell you, but do not follow their example.” The
meaning of life is found in ordinary living, and the Xian
perspective on the meaning of life comes from the personal
experience of conversion. For you and me as Xians, life is a daily,
life-long effort at conversion. Conversion does not mean doing
different things – it means seeing things differently. Conversion is
not just dealing w/ secular things, worldly things, in a religious
way; conversion is actually seeing secular things in a religious
way.
Again, for you and me, the keystone for seeing worldly things in a
religious way is the Word of God, what we are engaged in right now.
The three rdgs for today describe a perennial challenge. God’s very
own word comes to God’s people who, of course, are completely human.
In this encounter of the divine word w/ a limited humanity marked by
sin, there is always the danger that God’s word will be distorted
either in not being understood correctly or in not being lived out
authentically. The great challenge is – as St. Paul tells us – to
receive the word of God not on our terms but on God’s terms, as
God’s very own word. “And for this reason we too give thanks to God
unceasingly, that, in receiving the word of God from hearing us, you
received not a human word but, as it truly, the word of God, which
is now at work in you who believe.”
God have mercy on us preachers, on us religious leaders, if we fail
to lead in this life’s journey of conversion. Both the prophet
Malachi and Jesus were bold in their condemnation of irresponsible
leaders. “And now, O priests, this commandment is for you. If you do
not listen, if you do not lay it to heart, to give glory to my name
. . . I will send a curse upon you.” And Jesus tells his
contemporaries, “The scribes and Pharisees are your teachers . . .
do and observe what they tell you, but do not follow their example.
We leaders have to follow the example of Paul who describes the
intimate relationship he shared w/ the Thessalonians in terms of a
nursing mother caring for her children. Nursing mothers are never
far away from their children because they are the child’s source of
sustenance. Paul shared his very life. He was one w/ the people in
the daily process of knowing Christ and becoming Christian. The
daily process, if you will, of conversion.
Sadly, it seems we tend to be only half-converted. The power of
God’s word, the importance of coming to know Christ, falls on so
many deaf ears. We let the secular world remain the same while
adding our religious values. That is, we simply accept the secular
values of money and sex and power as the way things must be. Then we
try to enjoy as much money and sex and power as we can without too
much guilt.
Some of us get two-thirds converted. We realize that secular and
religious values are often contrary. So we combat the values of
money and sex and power w/ the Xian values of poverty, purity and
humility. Notice that the secular values remain in control of our
lives. The secular world still determines the rules of the game.
To be fully converted, we have to rise above the level of mere
morality. We must understand that real conversion is not accepting
the way things are and then compromising as little as necessary, or
accepting the way things are and then furiously fighting them.
Radical conversion is refusing to see things the way secular society
sees them. Conversion is seeing things the way God sees them.
When God looks at life, God does not first of all see money and sex
and power – God first of all sees his beloved daughters and sons who
happen to be dealing w/ money and sex and power. But even then, God
does not see wealth versus poverty, lust versus purity, power versus
humility. No, God sees money as a medium of exchange for a just
distribution of resources. God sees sex as the ultimate expression
of human love. God sees power as the means of ordering the human
family.
The meaning of life becomes clear only when we see it as God sees
it. To be converted is to stop looking at things the way the world
does. Whether we go along w/ secular values or fight them, they
control our life – they determine the playing field, the rules, the
winners. Authentic Xians have to be in the world but not of the
world.
We have to look to today’s gospel to find the formula for genuine
conversion. The harsh critique of the behavior of the scribes and
Pharisees is a prelude to the lesson Jesus actually wishes to teach,
which is that his disciples are not to be heartless taskmasters,
tying “up heavy burdens hard to carry; not to be ostentatious
do-gooders, “performing works to be seen” or attention-grabbers at
public functions. His disciples are to be humble servants. “The
greatest among you must be your servant,” looking to Jesus, their
teacher par excellence, for example and inspiration w/ regard to
leadership and integrity. And the quality of
leadership-expressed-as-service described in this gospel pertains to
every disciple who leads and serves others as parent, spouse,
friend, neighbor, model, mentor, athletic coach, confidant, etc.
That, I submit, is the meaning of life, the meaning of conversion.
Monsignor Krieg
St. Louis Church
29th
SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME
Is 25:6-10a Phil 4:12-14, 19-20; Mt
22:1-14
The death of a loved one leaves us with many emotions - with a
certain pensiveness, a tendency to look at life from a greatly
different point of view. We seem almost to enter a new dimension,
and everything around us takes on a deeper and more profound
meaning. It is a fresh experience in my own life with the death of
my brother.
The phenomenon occurs not only with a loved one’s death, but can be
occasioned by something of significance in our lives. It may be the
birth of a first child, a sudden and unexpected success – a sudden
and unexpected failure. How often we hear ourselves saying: “I never
thought of life that way before!” The same world surrounds us, but
we are able to see it and everything in it in a way that is all
quite new.
From a slightly different perspective, a real danger is the tendency
to take the world around us almost for granted. We sometimes, for
example, only begin to appreciate health when we lose it and begin
to struggle with illness. We probably have found ourselves saying:
“I never knew how good it was.” Unfortunately, the tendency can be
found in even the most wonderful moments of life. Certainly, one of
the most tragic is when we come to the last moments of life and find
ourselves making the remark regarding our whole life. “I never knew
how good it was.”
Most dramatic is that experience referenced in today’s liturgy when
we can take the Eucharist for granted - when we have lived our lives
with the most superficial understanding of what it is we do each
time we come to celebrate the mystery of the Body and Blood of
Jesus. Isaiah speaks in today’s reading of the mountain on which
“the LORD of hosts will provide for all peoples a feast of rich food
and choice wines”. It is easy to see the prophet’s words applied to
Jesus’ gift of His Body and Blood.
The prophet goes on to speak of God “destroying the veil that veils
all peoples”. Could Isaiah be speaking of the veil of indifference
or lack of faith that finds us satisfied with the most superficial
approach to the gift of Eucharist? Do we follow the prophet as he
tells of God destroying death forever? The greatest tragedy that has
confronted the Church throughout the centuries has been that lack of
belief in Christ’s presence to us in Eucharist.
That failure to believe is nothing new. It began even as Jesus
promised His gift. John records it in the 6th chapter of his gospel.
Repeatedly Jesus emphasizes: “My flesh is real food and my blood is
real drink.” And then John goes on to describe the reaction of most
of that crowd who first heard the promise: “This is a hard saying.
Who can accept it?“ We can gasp to hear John then relate: “As a
result of this, many of his disciples returned to their former way
of life and no longer accompanied him.”
It is worth considering our own attendance at Eucharist and asking
if we are in any way like that crowd whose faith was so shallow. Are
we among those who would no longer accompany Jesus in acceptance and
faith? Have we set our own limits of belief? Are we rather with
Peter and the apostles who remained with Jesus: “Lord to whom shall
we go? You alone have the words of eternal life.”
Today’s gospel of the wedding feast can flesh out our examen of what
our behavior at Eucharist expresses. Traditionally the wedding feast
is a figure of the Eucharist. Do we have that awareness of Jesus’
personal presence in the Eucharist – a presence to which Isaiah
refers: “On that day it will be said: ‘Behold our God, to whom we
looked to save us! ‘This is the LORD for whom we looked; let us
rejoice and be glad.’”?
Are we satisfied with attitudes of faith we may well be ashamed of
for all eternity? Do we see the Eucharist from the viewpoint of the
One who has given it to us, or do we approach the Eucharist as
something to entertain us rather than something which is constantly
teaching us what true love really is and that calls us to return a
love in kind? Does the way we dress, for example, betray our
shortsightedness? Are we slumming or celebrating? Do we realize the
implications of rushing from the Eucharist even before the moment of
His presence within us in Holy Communion?
May we live always grateful for what the Lord has given. May we
never experience the agony of coming to a moment when we are forced
to say: “If only I had known.” May we enjoy now and always the
wonder of God’s Eucharist and all His gifts. It can and it must be a
life changing moment.
Father Al Delmonte
St. Louis Church
25th
SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME
Picture this: you are among the first 20
early birds who can fly through the doors of your favorite dept. store when
they open on Black Friday, the biggest shopping day of the year. Just
imagine if you set your alarm for 3 AM that day after Thanksgiving to earn
one of those coveted early-bird specials, only to find out when the doors
opened that the store did not actually have only 20 drastically reduced sale
items, but a vast supply at that reduced price, enough for everyone who
would shop there throughout the entire Xmas season. How would you feel at
that moment, staring at an endless abundance in that store, a treasure you
thought would be so limited?
OR you have attended every lecture
throughout the semester, never cut a class, and you have worked overtime to
earn every bonus point and extra credit possible in the syllabus. You have
studied for weeks until your eyes hurt, all in preparation for the final
exam, and in the hopes that you will earn the highest grade in the class.
And then, on the day of the final exam, the professor announces that he will
give everyone in the class an A+, since he is so proud of the entire class,
no matter what their semester average has been thus far. How do you feel?
OR you take care of an elderly parent,
putting your life on hold for years to attend to her physical and emotional
needs, while your siblings seem to go about their daily lives, calling Mom
on the phone from time to time, and a rare visit or two, but leaving the
bulk of the care and cost to you. Then Mom passes away, and at the reading
of the will, her attorney says that she has left her estate in equal shares
to all of her children, for she loves them all just the same. How do you
feel?
You just want to scream, “It’s not fair!”
And who could blame you? Because life is supposed to reward the ones who get
up early, the ones who pay the price, the ones who stand in line the
longest, the ones who sacrifice their own desires to serve the greater good.
There should be extra points, bonuses, earned rewards for good behavior like
this. Right?
God reminds us today through the prophet
Isaiah: “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways,
says the Lord. As high as the heavens are above the earth, so high are my
ways above your ways and my thoughts above your thoughts.” People find this
parable of the owner and the workers in the vineyard very troubling. A
friend of mine’s father was a union man – hated this parable! Look at the
story again: the last workers were hired at 5 PM and at the end of the day,
at 6PM, when the workers li ne up to receive their daily wage, the owner
lines them up in order of their hiring time, which seemed like the fair
thing to do. But then this landowner reverses the logic of the day, and
begins at the end of the line, paying those who only worked a single hour an
entire daily wage. You can imagine the rejoicing at the end of the line, not
only because they got paid first, but because they got a full day’s pay for
so little work. Needless to say, there was less rejoicing at the front of
the line when they saw what was happening. The foreman paid each worker the
same daily wage, no matter how many hours they had worked, just exactly the
amount they were promised when they were hired earlier in the day. And the
landowner, sensing the grumbling at the front of the line, asked the
critical question of this parable, “Everyone was paid as promised. I have
chosen to give to the last the same as I gave to the first. Do you begrudge
my generosity?”
You bet they did! Equal pay for equal work
is fair. Equal pay for unequal work is not fair. Treating everyone the same
is fair, but treating everyone the same when they are not the same, is not
fair. What are we to make of this parable? We need to learn that God is not
fair, if fair means that everyone gets the same treatment, or that
everyone gets the treatment we think is merited for their good or poor
performance. God is not fair, Jesus is saying, God is generous.
God plays by a higher set of economics, where the first are last, and the
last first; where the least powerful get extra protection, where the strong
serve the weak, where the holy receive the same grace as the sinner. Is this
scandalous grace? Yes, it is. Or at least it sounds scandalous depending on
where you are in this line-up of workers at the end of the work-hard day in
this parable. But what about if we are not really at the front of the line,
complaining with the early risers? What about if we are really at the end of
the line, Gentiles who arrive centuries late to the family of God after the
Jewish people had worked for centuries as God’s chosen people? Or think of
it this way: some of us were called by Jesus in our infancy and we have been
faithful followers. Others were called in our youth, while still others of
us have been called by Jesus in our maturity or even in our old age. No
matter when Jesus called us to be his disciples, called us to work in his
vineyard, we all know others who were called later in life. Should the
reward be any different? Could it be that we are the 5:00 workers after all?
From the back of the line, doesn’t this parable sound different? Don’t you
think we could all dance a soft-shoe to the tune of Amazing Grace? Grace
that “saved a wretch like me?” I think so too. Am I ever glad that God is
not fair, that God is generous instead.
Father Bob Ring
St. Louis Church
24th
SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME
Sirach Weighs
In
How do we commemorate something like 9-11? The media
have covered countless angles; what do we focus on as disciples of Jesus
celebrating Sunday Eucharist? Does the Word of God we just heard shed any
light on the matter?
For Friday this week, our school put together a
beautiful prayer service. The children had readings, poetry, prayers, and
music. Some parents with vocations as firefighters. police and in the
military came to be honored for their dedication, and to represent the
heroic first responders of that fateful day, as well as those engaged in the
war on terrorism since. The focus was on courage, service, sacrifice for
others, unity – a message about love in action, bringing out the best in the
worst, unimaginable situation. Building a peaceful world, the theme for the
school year fit perfectly. It was an excellent way for our children to be a
part of the commemorating.
But what about adults? Along with holding up powerful
virtues, like service of others, courage, heroism, self sacrifice;
reflecting on a city and nation rallying together, with determination,
resilience, unity – what about the clash of values, the act of war itself,
that led to such horrific scenes that day?
As hard as it maybe for us to
consider, as much as we might want to look the other way, don’t we need to
grapple with the fact that the terrorist who took over each of the three
planes that day believed in what they were doing? As twisted and depraved as
it may be to us, they chose to give up their lives, taking thousands with
them, for a cause they felt worthy of the sacrifice. They thought they were
winning a martyr’s place in paradise. It may be sick, but to ignore that
piece of the story would be a mistake. I believe our Catholic faith, and
specifically God’s Word today can shine the powerful light of truth on all
this.
How can a terrorist be deluded into thinking that
turning a plane full of innocent people into a weapon is a good thing? What
could cause such a distortion? This reveals in the starkest way possible the
power of wrath and anger to distort thinking, warp the mind and totally
blind a person. Sirach lays it right out there – ‘wrath and anger are
hateful things, yet the sinner hugs them tight’. Hugging hateful things
makes the one doing the hugging hateful. Though suicide bombers believe
their actions pave the way to paradise, Sirach counters with the strongest
possible warning: ‘the vengeful will suffer the Lord’s vengeance, for he
remembers their sin in detail. If anyone who is flesh cherishes wrath, who
can forgive his sins?’ A far cry from paradise. Who indeed can forgive,
when hugging vengeance and cherishing wrath close the heart, turning the
heart and its owner into a cold, stony shadow of a true human person.
Let me be clear. I am not suggesting that God takes
side in culture wars, that God always loves us and hates are enemies. There
are folks in Al Queda who believe God is on their side and affirms their
every act of violence. There are sadly folks on every side who can get
caught up in that thinking, mixing up human political choices with God’s
will. God is far above our politics, but has a tremendous investment in how
we chose to act. How we choose to resolve deep differences. The methods we
choose to advance our causes. The way we deal with conflicts, enmity, anger,
hurt, injustices. God’s interest is not who is fighting for which political
system, philosophy or type of government, but on how we treat each other,
the children God brought into this world, who God loves deeply, cherishes,
yes, each and every one.
When anger and wrath are hugged tight and cherished,
the object of anger can cease to be a child of God and brother and sister to
us. Instead, wrath and anger can turn a person’s enemy into an object, or
worse yet, a target. Compassion can evaporate. Vengeance replaces a genuine
concern for the right. This can happen on the world stage, in can happen in
our politics, it can happen when a drunk driver kills someone we love, it
can happen in a nasty divorce. Tragically, the more someone hugs anger and
cherishes wrath, the less able they are to see just what these powerful
emotions can do to the soul, even though everyone else can see the sad
spiral. The poor fool in our Gospel today was totally blind to the
outrageousness of his actions toward his fellow servant. Yet it was plain as
day to all his friends.
If this seems hopeless – it is not! Remember, Jesus
healed the man born blind. He specializes in opening eyes, touching hearts,
inviting into conversion. Contemplating Jesus on the cross holds the power
to open our eyes and break open to healing the hardest heart.
I want to begin wrapping this up by looking at some
numbers in our Gospel today. I invite you to read the cover of the bulletin
this weekend for some thoughts about forgiving 77 times rather than just 7.
Let me now add one more thought about 77, and then end with the best news
yet. Part of the reason Jesus tells Peter and tells us to forgive 77 times
may be this: we hardly ever get it right right away. We have to learn, to
work at true forgiveness, and the ability comes with trying and trying and
trying again. How many times does one have to throw a basketball at the hoop
before making baskets? Or given my esteemed brother priests here at St.
Louis, how many swings before the first hole in one?
Our first 7 times at forgiving a deep hurt may just
scratch the surface. Some hurts can take years to truly forgive. Some, we
may still be working on as we draw our last breath. God’s grace and mercy
enter our heart with every try at forgiving, not just at the end of the
process. Each of the 77 times brings us closer to Christ, closer to the God
of all mercy. Sometimes we don’t even want to forgive. The first 7 times may
be simply asking ‘Lord, please help me to at least want to forgive.’ Even
that step begins the flow of grace and the first movement of conversion.
Now the really good news. Another number thing in our
Gospel. If you go back to the original Greek text of our Gospel today, its
doesn’t say that the king’s servant owed a ‘huge amount’. The actually Greek
text is quite specific. The man owed 10,000 talents. This translation
translates that as ‘huge amount’ since very few of us ever shop with
talents. For our accountants, here is the math. A denarius was about the
value of a day’s labor, a day’s wages. A talent was between 6 & 10 thousand
denarii. So 10,000 talents – this servant owed around a billion dollars. You
may ask, who could run up a personal debt that high – it is ridiculous. True
enough; it is meant to be ridiculous. The servant could never ever pay back
what he owed. He knew it, and so did the master. But when asked for mercy,
the master freely offered it. That is how incredible God’s gracious mercy
truly is. The amount of forgiveness we may need over the course of an entire
life is beyond counting. But it never exhausts God’s readiness to forgive,
if we but ask.
Father Bob Ring
St. Louis Church
19th
SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME
Charging the Batteries
This is
my cell phone charger (holding up charger). As I was praying about
these readings --- Elijah’s experience, the ins and outs of the Gospel, St.
Paul pouring out his heart in the second reading, I asked myself, is there
any thread to connect them all, which can also connect God’s Word for us to
our own daily life? Then my cell phone charger popped into my mind.
First,
about this charger. If I misplace it, or forget to use it regularly; if I
don’t keep track of the charge on the phone’s battery, then signal that
allows me to connect with others, to listen, to respond, to communicate,
even to say ‘I love you’ to friends and family over the phone …
if I don’t keep the batter charged,
that signal gets weaker, and weaker, and then goes dead.
But plug
the charger in, connect it to the phone, and power from a huge power plant
somewhere, with a roaring coal fire, or a nuclear reaction flows over the
wires, into the converter, into my phone, and once again all the
communicating and connecting a cell phone allows is right at my fingertips.
(holding up cell phone) By the way, my phone off, a good plan for in
church.
Now
there are lots of connections between the 1st reading and the
Gospel today, but some require looking at the context of the reading from
Kings. In the background is hunger, and miraculous feeding by God. The
Gospel begins with: ‘after Jesus fed the people’, a reference to the
preceding passage we heard last week about the multiplication of the loaves
and fish. Flip back two chapters in Kings, and you find Elijah is hungry,
and the widow of Zeraphath and her son are starving. For them, through
Elijah, God works the miracle of the never empty jar of flour and bottomless
jar of oil. The Gospel has a storm at sea, and in this cycle in Elijah, he
is facing a storm of violence and hostility.
Background: Elijah has been pursued by King Ahab and Jezebel, for speaking
out against their idolatry, apostasy and the injustice of Ahab’s reign.
Despite being able to call down fire on Mt Carmel, Elijah’s sign only serves
to infuriate Jezebel. She swears revenge. After running, literally, for his
life, Elijah collapses in this cave on Mt. Horeb, ready to give up. That’s
rght, Elijah, powerful, holy man and prophet of God is discouraged,
dispirited, exhausted, so depressed he even cries out to God “It is enough!
Take away my life!”
Why a
phone charger? Power plant – wind crushing mountains, earthquake, fire;
awesome energy! Some kind of transformer, so that a connection to the all
powerful God is possible, a connection we read as a ‘tiny whispering
sound’. The New RSV translates that “the sound of sheer silence”. Now
there is an evocative image for where prayer can take us to encounter God!
Elijah gets so charged up, he is both commissioned and empowered to anoint
two kings, and to give the mantle of prophecy to Elisha, his successor. The
three will continue his work after he is swept up to heaven. Low battery,
charged up, and ready to do awesome things for God!
Let’s
move on to Paul in Romans today. He is tapping into all the relationship,
the commitment, the energy and deep love that God’s covenant with his Jewish
brothers and sisters provides. It charges him up so much that he writes:
“I would be willing to be cut myself off from the power of Christ’s cross,
from salvation itself if my sacrifice would bring my fellow Jews into the
new covenant through Christ.” Where does all that passion come from? Paul’s
life of prayer connects him to the source of passion, to God, the author of
the covenant.
Now the
Gospel. Just as Elijah went to the mountain in the first reading, our Gospel
today opens with Jesus going to a mountain to pray. Meanwhile, apparently
the disciples batteries weren’t charged up very well, because they were
rowing and rowing and getting no where. Rowing into the wind requires a full
charge. Remember that when you are rowing into the wind! Jesus, fresh from
prayer, comes walking on the water.
At
first, the fear generated by the storm keeps the disciples from recognizing
Jesus. But as soon as Peter does recognize the Lord, just that much of a
connection gave him the courage to ask Jesus to call him out onto the water.
He does take a few baby steps on the sea. Amazing! But instead of staying
focused on Jesus, the source of water walking ability, Peter breaks contact,
looks at the wind and the waves, gets scared again, and starts to sink.
Thank
God Peter knew the answer would be prayer. So he calls out for help. A hand
reaches out, lifts him up, and gets him back into the boat. With that,
everything is calm. We see them all at peace, connected to the Lord, a
community of disciples again, together in a boat, sailing with the master.
Cell
phones not only can help us stay connected to family and friends; they can
be hugely helpful if we get into an accident, or face an emergency, or if a
storm blows up in our life. But we need to keep the battery charged up. We
need to keep our spiritual batteries charged.
Prayer
time at home, taking the time to enter into sheer silence, to connect with
God charges our spiritual batteries.
The
sacraments, where we can be fed as Elijah was miraculously fed; as the
disciples were fed at the multiplication of the loaves, these things can
keep our batteries charged.
As we
prepare to celebrate the Eucharist today, try to enter into these thoughts.
This
altar is the place where Jesus does multiply the loaves for us, and feeds
us.
At this
altar, the phenomenal power, energy, the energy of pure love goes through
the transformer of the cross of Jesus, and is available to every one of us.
In communion, we connect to that loving power; to God, to one another, to
all believers.
If we
come to Mass feeling like we are sinking, a hand is there to reach out to
us, to lift us out of the swirling water, get us back into the boat with
each other, and bring us to the place of silence and peace. The place where
fears are calmed and strength renewed.
How many
bars on your battery?
The
energy of God’s love and mercy can come through the transformer of music,
and prayer, ritual, word, sacrament, and that love energy can transform
us!
Through
the Eucharist, through each of the sacraments, God can put a holy charge on
our batteries. Not only does that charge keep us going, God makes sure there
is enough to spare for us to provide a jump start for some of the people we
may meet with a dead battery. Trying thinking of evangelization as
providing a faith and love jump start to someone with a dead battery.
Sometimes we think of evangelization as an intellectual exercise, requiring
knowledge of the teachings of the church we may feel inadequate to explain.
Thinking instead of evangelization as providing a jump start to a friends
dead spiritual battery. Loving them, and listening, and sharing where our
faith comes from is like hooking up the jumper cables.
Jesus
transformed hostility, violence and crucifixion into mercy, saving love and
resurrection.
When we
come to celebrate the paschal mystery, he does the same with the hurts,
disappointments, failing; with the weakness we bring. He transforms our
weakness though his strength, and charges us up to be his disciples.
One last
piece to the phone charger parable. While it is very annoying to get a new
phone, and discover there are so many different types of chargers, and the
old one doesn’t fit the new phone ….. there is a message. There are many
different kinds of spiritual chargers, one designed for each person,
personality, and state in life. If one doesn’t work, don’t give up. God has
a charger out there just for you. Plug in, charge up, get connected, let
the love of God fill you to overflowing!
Monsignor Krieg
St. Louis Church
17th
SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME
I Kgs:
3: 5, 7-12; Rom 8: 28-30; Mt 13: 44 -52
Several years ago it was a joy for me to witness the marriage of a young
couple who were almost an icon of the perfect marriage. She was beautiful;
he was handsome, and they were wonderful people of faith and very much in
love.
Within a few short months he was diagnosed with terminal cancer, and the two
struggled with the tragedy that was to shape their short but beautiful
marriage. Days before his death, they asked me to come to the hospital, and
I will never forget his looking intently at me and saying: “Father, what is
heaven like?” I probably reminded him that he had a wonderful hint in the
love of his beautiful bride. How long we talked I no longer remember.
In today’s gospel passage we have the Lord saying to us: “The kingdom of
heaven is like - a buried treasure, a pearl of great price, like a net cast
into the sea. As we were reminded in today’s Opening Prayer, the kingdom of
heaven is a surprise find in the buried treasure; the pearl of great price
is the object of a lifetime search.
For each figure there is a price to pay: the person who finds (the treasure)
and hides (it) again, out of joy goes and sells all that he has and buys
that field; the pearl merchant goes and sells all that he has and buys it.
The kingdom of heaven is worth all we have and calls us to spend our life in
its pursuit.
My young friend at the hospital had much to forego, but with his beautiful
bride he truly sought the kingdom of heaven as they shared the faith that
blossomed for both of them that evening. It was a privilege and a joy to
accompany this young couple in their search for the kingdom of heaven. It is
desperately important, however, for all of us to realize that the search for
that kingdom is our life in God’s wonderful gift of the Church.
Regardless of the figure that appeals to us - the buried treasure or the
pearl - each represents the kingdom of heaven for which we prepare as we now
live the life of Christ in Scripture and Sacrament, that is, in our regular
participation in the Eucharist. Selling all we have to obtain the field with
the hidden treasure or the pearl of great price gives us a good idea of how
we should be living our faith within the mystery of the Church.
Jesus goes on to speak of the Church as the net which draws fish of every
variety. It is a fact of life that within the Church there are people of
every degree of faith and religious practice. There are those who try to
justify their lack of practice, and there are those who simply find the
expression of faith superfluous. How we look upon the Church, however, does
little, if anything, to change the nature of the Church; it simply gives a
profile of ourselves. We can never be so foolish as to think that we know
everything there is to know about the Church. It is too easy simply to
project our own ignorance, and it is a tragedy when we no longer care.
In the first reading we are given the figure of Solomon who has sought from
the Lord not material riches, but simply “an understanding heart to judge
your people and to distinguish right from wrong.” We may not seek the
extraordinary wisdom of the young king, but we should be concerned that we
live our faith with true wisdom.
Material concerns can dilute our awareness of God’s gifts, and life can
become shallow and with little meaning. It should give us pause to think of
the fisherman separating his net’s catch, discarding what is not of value.
St. Paul reminds us “that all things work for good for those who love God,
who are called according to his purpose.” No one is excluded from that call,
and each of us must respond to God’s loving invitation. In His divine
foreknowledge in eternity God knows who, in fact, will respond and the
predestination of which Paul speaks doesn’t force our choice but simply
acknowledges the choice we make,
We are all called according to the purpose God has assigned to us, and true
peace is achieved only when we find it in that wonderful will of God, This
is the example of Jesus as, throughout His entire life, He passionately
pursues the Father’s will for Him. This is the example that gives direction
and meaning to our daily life.
In his magnificent poem, the Divine Comedy, the classic poet, Dante, has
those who have achieved heaven singing “In His will is our peace.” It’s a
wonderful mantra for our daily life as we literally begin our heaven here
and now.
Father Bob Ring
St. Louis Church
16th
SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME
Parables
Matthew’s “Day of Parables”,
Chapter 13, which we started last weekend, and will finish up next weekend:
these Gospels have me pondering the world of parables.
The world inside parables is a
place where God rules! God’s power & love, God’s wisdom & grace reign
supreme.
Now that world, the Kingdom of
God, and the one we live in are interwoven. These two worlds so penetrate
each other that Jesus could use images and situations in the world familiar
to his listeners in Galilee, and even us listeners here in Pittsford, to get
at another world. But without Jesus’ help, we see only the dark side, and
not the places where God’s reign is breaking in. We see the back side of
the tapestry, if you will, with all its knots and tangles, not God’s
astounding design on the front.
In one of his early books,
scripture scholar John Dominic Crossen makes a point that really rings true
to the Jesus I have come to know and love. Through detailed analysis that
I’ll leave for a Bible study, Crosson suggests that Jesus’ experience of his
Father, his experience of God was INSIDE the world of parables. In other
words, Jesus didn’t discover parables to be a neat tool to teach his ideas.
Jesus experienced his Father, and his own true identity, most clearly
through these flashes of insight, the world inside parables; the world
parables reveal and open up for us. THEN JESUS LIVED THERE.
Review the world inside parables
and see where Jesus lived.
It is a world where God’s reign,
God’s rule has already begun
It is a world where that rule,
life shaped by God’s love, starts small, and grows to encompass everything
and every one … a tree so large the birds of the sky come and dwell in its
branches.
It is a world where some respond
favorably to God’s initiative and others do not, but where patient tolerance
and trust that God can work it all out is the chosen strategy.
A world filled with the fullness
of God, 30 60 and 100 fold, just from generously scattering seed.
These were not just ideas for
Jesus. It is how he experienced God working in him, and where he seeks to
lead us. Parables are more than a means to an end. They are not simply the
map to the kingdom, to go back in the glove compartment once we arrive.
Parables are a place to live.
But it is not easy to convince
folks, you and me, to let go of the world we have created, no matter how
obvious it might be that a world God creates will always be better.
So even the evangelists
sometimes turned parables into allegories, teaching tools, that taught
excellent values, but which began to interject some very human tendencies,
like judgment and punishment, most likely not the point when Jesus told the
parable. Matthew took that turn last week when he gave the explanation
(something parable tellers don’t do) of the parable of the sower. Jesus
wanted folks to step into a world where, despite the many kinds of bad soil
there may be, God sows seed generously and creates a harvest 30, 60 and a
hundredfold, against all odds.
I think that the shift from
Jesus’ world inside a parable to how life appears from outside the parable
world, in the world we create, almost happens again this week. But it
doesn’t have to if we allow the Holy Spirit to be our interpreter.
I’ve experienced this weeds and
wheat thing. It wasn’t wheat, and my story has an additional character, but
the wisdom is the same. I was getting behind in my gardening, and asked a
friend to help with a bit of weeding. Not a good choice unless the friend
knows exactly what you planted, where, and why, and
knows not just what, for instance, a mature cone flower looks like. They
need to know what it looks like when it first pops out of the ground. What
the plant looks like when it sprouts, when it is stressed by drought, when
slugs and bugs have eaten 2/3 or the leaves. Even for a weeding freak like
me, who hates to leave weeds and loves to pull them, if this were just a
cautionary tale, I would have to admit it holds wisdom. We think we know
weeds, but we don’t, we can do lots of damage to God’s garden if we aren’t
careful. (By the way, pardon my shifting back and forth from the literal to
the metaphorical level and back again. Getting inside a parable requires
that.)
I believe there is an even more
intriguing world inside this parable. In many dry places in the world, and
Palestine qualifies, finding fuel to cook your meal was, and in many places
for the poor today, still is, a huge challenge. It is hard for us to imagine
here in Pittsford that there are millions of people in our world today who
flatten out cow patties, and dry them in the sun, just so they will have
something to make a fire to cook dinner.
Now think with me. If you are
just burning the weeds to get rid of them, (or you have a need to punish
them for being weeds!), why would you bundle them up first?? And why would
you waste potential fuel that could cook your dinner? But if the weeds did
have a use, different from the wheat, you might bundle them for future use,
or for today’s hot meal.
There is no doubt that this
parable is about not judging, being patient with weeds and leaving them for
God to deal with at a later date. No one doubts this is a parable about
tolerance. And in the world we live in, when anyone who thinks or believes
or acts differently, or is of a different religion or tribe or political
persuasion, violence, whether in word or deed is considered normal … in our
world today the idea of letting the weeds and wheat grow together is
crucial. People who think God has sent them to destroy weeds kill innocent
people every day. And it isn’t just terrorists who fall into this. We can
all do serious harm to the wheat when we go off pulling weeds.
It may also pay to consider a
deeper insight. That God can find a way for the weeds to be useful. Even
essential. Wheat can only become bread if you cook it, and that requires
fire.
I believe if we can move that far
into the world Jesus lived in, the world inside this parable, it could
amazingly transform our relationships, our treatment of others, our
experience of life. A world that values every living thing, and every
person, as a sacred gift from God. A world where peace truly has a chance. A
world where holiness is all around, even when we fail to recognize it. A
world charged with the wonder of God’s infinite possibilities for good.
The paschal mystery – dying and
rising with Christ – sacrifice – accepting the cross – the mystery we are
about to celebrate ….. is markedly different than believing God wants us
all to go out and make war on weeds!
Now remember; we are not
literalists with scripture. Jesus is not telling us we cannot weed our
literal garden in the back yard. We just need to confine our weeding there,
and then be ready to step into the world of the parable (symbolic,
metaphorical) where weeding is not our job!
Father Bob Ring
St. Louis Church
15th
SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME
Parable of the Sower
I love parables, especially some of
Jesus’ great agricultural parables. After all, farming and
growing things are in my blood. But there can be a problem with
parables in the Gospels. Parables are by nature meant to
surprise the listener; to catch us off guard. In the process,
while our defenses are down, they open up new ways of seeing,
and understanding, and then even ways of acting, and living. But
how can we be surprised if we have heard the parable over and
over? Worse yet, if we are sure we know the point, we may not
look closely, and we miss part of the punch. So I’m
going to try to restore a bit of surprise to this seed sowing
story, getting at a perspective that is sometimes missed. Then
on the bulletin cover you can find yet another, hopefully new
look at a familiar story. But first a brief explanation of what
how I am going to proceed.
When I was in Apalachin, we had a
parishioner, Greg Pedroza, who had developed a painful disability after a
cancer surgery. To keep his mind off the pain, he took up story telling as
an avocation. Well, it was a perfect fit for Greg, and among his stories,
some were in a trademark style that was truly amazing … totally alliterative
stories. In other words, stories in which every single word began with the
same letter. It definitely lends an element of surprise, and also gets the
listener to focus and process the story in a different way. Now I should
mention that other commentators on this Gospel suggest that as Jesus
originally told the parable, the focus may have been on the sower, not the
soil. I should add as well, remember, the seed is God’s Word.
Oh, and
before I begin …. I did use a little poetic license with the parable,
throwing in squirrels and a spring snowstorm to give a little flavor of
upstate New York.
Sweltering, steamy summer suggests shortening
sermon. So Sunday’s sermon: studying strange seed sowing style.
Sower strides swiftly, scattering seed.
Some seed – squirrels snatch.
Some seed sprouts – sudden spring snowstorm smothers seedlings.
Shallow, stony soil sprouts some seed – soon scorching sun
stresses sprouts,
sensitive stalks suffer sunstroke!
Suitable, sweet soil supports, sustains some seed
Stalks shoot skyward, sun shines, sheaves swell,
Season’s surplus stuns spectators.
Sower – smiles, satisfied!
So, story’s spiritual significance? Soil science? Some say so.
Stewardship story? Seed studies?
Story simultaneously, subtly shows
sower’s style.
Scene shows scandalous, splurging,
spendthrift sovereign.
See, Savior’s servants sometimes skimpy spreading, scattering seed.
Some swear seed supply scant.
So scared, stingy sowers select sensible spots, spade soil, scantily
sprinkle seeds.
Seed sowing storyteller shuns
stinginess!
Straying seed, some snatched, strangled, scorched – so??
Spread seed, scatter, sprinkle, sow – send seed sailing!
Surely some seedlings survive! Savior shall secure success.
Switch styles, strategies. Surrender skimpy sowing!
See Savior showering scattered seed
See stalks stretching skyward
Swelling sheaves, staggering surplus!
See Savior’s skillful strategy.
Savior servants sole service:
Spread, scatter, share, sow seed!
Stingy sowing .. some shall starve.
Splurging, splashing, saturating sowing?
Stunning, sure success!
Seed sowing story subverts scared,
stingy, safe, sensible strategies.
Story signals sovereign’s
superabundance.
So sift story’s spiritual significance.
Seek, savor, storytelling, seed
sowing, spendthrift Savior.
Savior showering seeds, suppressing stinginess, spreading sweet solace,
streaming salvation.
(pointing to altar)
Such superabundance, such salvation, Saviors sacrament shall show.
Father Al Delmonte
St. Louis Church
14th
SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME
After our 50 day Easter celebration and the solemnities of early
summer, the Most Holy Trinity, the Solemnity of the Body and Blood
of Christ, we come to the first of our Ordinary Time Sundays. We
have seen the glory and power of the Lord; the
readingsfor today lead us to a deeper understanding of his
meekness. The prophet Zechariah pictures Jesus our king arriving not
as kings of old did, riding in chariots, preceded by their armies w/
a display of pomp and power. Our king arrives not on a war horse but
on a lowly donkey, the prophecy that was fulfilled on Palm Sunday
when Jesus rode into Jerusalem to teach a lesson on humility and
meekness, and, Zechariah says, “he shall proclaim peace to the
nations.”
The gospel today gives us hope because of the peaceful rest he
already provides for those who come to him. “Come to me, all you who
labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest.” These have to be
among the most beautiful words in all the gospels. These words
should be posted on the fridge, on your screen saver, on your ipad,
your Blackberry, etc.
Life can be very burdensome. We all have troubles. Some of them are
overwhelming; many of our own making: the bad habits we have built
over a lifetime; disappointments; hurts; the ugly consequences of
our sins; addictions; the loneliness that comes from being too full
of ourselves; the sadness that comes from seeing the messes we’ve
made.
We’ve got lots of troubles of our own making. But we’ve got other
troubles we couldn’t have foreseen and didn’t make: serious health
issues, accidents, tragedies, reverses of fortune of every sort. We
all have troubles. They wear us down and wear us out and sometimes
they leave us feeling trapped.
We want God to act. Do something about all the troubles. I want God
to stop the violence and abuse in families and neighborhoods and
even in the Church. I want a God who will make peace happen and put
an end to terrorism and the threat of terrorism. A God who will end
crimes of racism and sexism and hate. I want God to insure that each
child in the world has enough food and water to survive another day.
I want a God who will change the world, yet also insure that my life
will go on unchanged.
“Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you
rest.” It sounds good, but what exactly does it mean? Is he
promising to take our troubles away, give us an easy out, and a
quick escape? Not at all. He has something else in mind. Listen to
what he says: “Take my yoke upon you . . . and you will find rest
for yourselves. For my yoke is easy and my burden light.”
From the earliest days of the Church there have been those who have
emphasized the rest aspect of faith more than the work aspect. These
Xians have had a special sensitivity to the many burdens that people
bear. They are aware of the spiritually weakening effects of
weariness and exhaustion. They know there are violent storms in
people’s souls that need to be calmed. Where the activists have
heard a word of challenge in the gospel (“Take my yoke upon you”),
these have heard a word of consolation (“you will find rest”).
We are the assembly of God’s people, we have gathered as a
community, but we are also individuals approaching God w/ intensely
personal needs and private concerns. We seldom see clearly into the
minds and hearts of others. Who of us knows all about any other one
of us? God only knows who comes to church w/ deep feelings of
despair, hoping for a word of hope. God only knows who faces Monday
w/ the fear of being laid off, or who will return home to a marriage
in jeopardy, or who grieves over the alienation and possible loss of
a son or daughter. Many come to church emotionally, physically, and
spiritually spent. More than anything else, they need a time and a
place to rest.
Two needs: the need to work, to take upon ourselves the yoke of our
position, our vocation, and the need to rest. One of the most
remarkable mysteries of the gospel of Jesus Christ is its power to
satisfy both needs. The beautiful words in today’s gospel have been
called “the great invitation.” Jesus says, “Come to me, all you that
are weary and carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.”
Rest from what? Rest from trying to control everything. Rest from
trying to justify your existence. Rest from trying to be what you
are not. Rest from whatever keeps you from trusting fully in God.
The invitation from Jesus is not simply to rest, as in “Take a load
off” or “Put your feet up,” but to rest so as to know and to learn.
What Jesus is communicating here is not necessarily a profound
theological doctrine but an attitude of mind and spirit that he
described as “meek and humble of heart.”
Meekness means force of character and inner strength that invite
admiration, that when we see that force of character and inner
strength in someone, we want to emulate such virtue. These are the
lessons Jesus teaches to those who will pause, be still and come to
rest in him. When we do that we learn how to handle the challenges
of belonging to Christ and living according to the Spirit. When St.
Paul talks about the “way of the flesh” in that second rdg, he’s
talking about a life lived without God, without Christ, without the
Spirit. None of us would willingly choose such a life, but sometimes
we come close when we become too preoccupied w/ the burdens of our
daily struggles.
“Come to me,” Jesus says, “and I will refresh you.” And go to Jesus
we do, in our communion procession toward the minister who, acting
for Jesus, will present to us his sacred body and his precious
blood, our spiritual food and drink, our divine refreshment. We go
to Jesus because he is gentle and humble of heart. In him our souls
find rest for his yoke is easy and his burden light.
Father Kevin Murphy
St. Louis Church
Feast of the Body and Blood of Christ
What is the purpose of religion and religious practice?
I suppose this could be answered in many different ways. Today’s
Feast of the Body of Christ offers a
fitting response: do not FORGET what God has done for you and
REMEMBER God is present in your life.
While the readings point to the great events of salvation in the
Exodus from Egypt and the liberating act of Jesus by which we are
saved for God, the truth is that each one of us must ask how God has
been present in our lives.
The celebration of the Eucharist is to remind us that God is present
in life. We speak of the Living Word that is proclaimed here. It is
Jesus who speaks to us here and now with words that invite us into
the life of our God. These words teach and encourage, form and
enhance our common life as a community of believers. And when we
speak of the Real Presence of Christ in the Body and Blood, that
gift is meant to nourish, to strengthen and to share God’s life with
us. It is this Presence that sends us forth to share that Good News
with one another and with our world. The action of the Eucharist
reminds us that God enters into the heart of our lives.
So, it a fitting day on which to conclude my ministry here at St.
Louis. These 6 years have been a time of searching, discovering and
sharing in your life---and you in mine. This time has been a
blessing for me!
I have felt support in so many ways---during my struggles with my
foot, but also in the daily ministry of the parish. I have learned
from you what Church community is meant to be. I have felt affirmed
in my ministry and challenged to grow deeper in my own relationship
with God.
This is a wonderful community: Stewardship---people offer themselves
to make this community come alive. What a difference it makes when
people give of their time and talent and treasure to make a parish
happen.
Hospitality: it has been a joy to hear “new” people say how much at
home they feel here and how welcoming people have been.
Gifted people who share: we are blessed by the gifts of one another!
But we have not reached the parousia or heaven quite yet. There is
still work to be done to form our lives and our community into the
model of the Kingdom. We cannot sit on our laurels!
Some issues that I would ask you to think about individually and as
a community:
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Centrality of worship and prayer: is the Sat-Sun worship a priority
for everyone? Is it prayerful and nourishing? How can we all make it
better?
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