BLESSED WHO HEAR GOD'S WORD

Homily for Oct. 12^th, 2019: Luke 11:27-28.

          “Blessed is the womb that carried you and the breasts at which you nursed,” a woman in the crowd cries out as Jesus is speaking. Jesus’ response to this tribute to his mother surprises us. He might have said, “Truly,” “Indeed,” or perhaps just “Thank you.” He owed his mother so much: his humanity, loving care from infancy through childhood, youth, and adolescence. Yet he says none of those things. The response Jesus actually makes seems almost to contradict what the woman in the crowd has cried out. “Rather, blessed are those who hear the word of God and observe it.”

In reality this is not a contradiction. For Mary is the first hearer of God’s word. It came to her first when the angel Gabriel told her that she was to be the mother of God’s Son. How much of that word did Mary understand? Well, she understood at least this: that in a small village where gossip was rife and everybody knew everybody else’s business, she would be looked on as an unmarried mother. Despite this bleak prospect, Mary immediately said yes: “Be it done to me according to your word.”

Mary’s attention to God’s word did not stop there. After Mary and Joseph’s frantic search for their 12-year-old son who, unbeknownst to them, had stayed behind in Jerusalem, they heard the boy’s puzzling questions: “Why did you search for me? Did you not know that I must be in my father’s house?” On the threshold of his teens, Jesus already knew that God, and not Joseph, was his Father.

Luke (alone of the four gospel writers) tells us that Mary and Joseph “did not understand” what their son had said to them (2:50). After returning to Nazareth, however, Mary continued to “ponder these things in her heart” (vs. 51).

The Lord asks us to do the same. More, he promises that when we do listen to his word, ponder in our hearts what he says to us, and put his teaching into action, we are “blessed.” And that word, in Luke’s original Greek text, makarios, means “happy.”        

"ASK AND YOU WILL RECEIVE."

Homily for Oct. 10^th, 2019: Luke 11:5-13.

This story about the friend coming at midnight emphasizes two things: the need for persistence in prayer, and God=s readiness to hear us: AAsk and you will receive,” Jesus says. “Seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.@ Continuing to pray when God seems to answer only with silence increases our desire and strengthens our faith, as physical exercise strengthens the heart, lungs, and muscles. St. Gregory the Great, who was bishop of Rome from 590 to 604, wrote: AAll holy desires grow by delays; and if they fade because of these delays, they were never holy desires.@

To illustrate his teaching about prayer, Jesus reminds us that God is our loving heavenly Father, and we are his children. God is more loving, however, than the even best human father or mother B and wiser. Hence he will not always answer our prayers in the way, or at the time, that we think he should. When God refuses something we pray for, it is always in order to give us something better.  

 The late Archbishop Fulton Sheen told a story about a little girl who prayed, before Christmas, for a hundred dolls. She didn=t get even one. Her unbelieving father, who had taunted both her and her mother for praying at all, couldn=t resist saying on Christmas day: AWell God didn=t answer your prayers, did he?@ To which the child gave the beautiful answer: AOh yes, He did. He said No!@ In my own ninety-first year, I am grateful to have lived long enough to be able to thank God for answering some of my prayers, Not yet; and others, No.

Even when we have done our best to explain and understand prayer, however, it remains a mystery: not in the sense that we can understand nothing about prayer, but that what we can understand is partial only. We can no more explain Ahow prayer works@ than we can explain how the human mind works, or the human heart.

Above all, therefore, we need to ask for the gift of God=s Holy Spirit: the fire of God’s love, to burn away everything in us that is contrary to God, and to light up our way; his wisdom to see what is right and true, and to embrace it when seen. That prayer will always be answered, Jesus promises us. AIf you then, who are wicked, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the Father in heaven give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him?@

JOB RECIEVES AN ANSWER

Homily for Oct. 9^th, 2019: Jonah 4:1-11.

          For the last three days we have been hearing readings from one of the most remarkable books in the Bible: Jonah. Like Jesus’ parables and Shakespeare’s plays, Jonah is a work of fiction. But also like them, it contains profound truths about life. Indeed Jonah is an extended parable about God’s mercy and his willingness to forgive.

The book begins with God’s call to Jonah to preach repentance to the people of Nineveh. Unlike the other prophets, who obey God’s call, though in some cases reluctantly, Jonah’s response is, “No way.” He takes a ship going in the other direction from Nineveh. When a violent storm arises, the ship’s crew pray for deliverance. The only one not praying is Jonah, who remains asleep below. The captain questions him and discovers that he is fleeing God’s call. To appease God, they throw Jonah overboard. Swallowed by “a great fish,” who vomits him onto dry land after three days (the clearest indication of the book’s fictional character), Jonah now travels to Nineveh to preach repentance, though reluctantly. Nineveh symbolizes all the foreign nations who have oppressed God’s people. Jonah can’t stand the possibility that God will show mercy to one of Israel’s enemies.

When Jonah tells the Ninevites they must repent, they do so at once. Whereupon God is merciful to them – and Jonah is burned up about it! In today’s first reading, we hear him telling God of his anger. He is a sorehead! “Take my life,” he asks God. God remains merciful, however, even to his reluctant prophet, Jonah. God provides a large-leafed plant to shelter Jonah from the sun’s heat. When the plant dies the next day, Jonah is angrier than ever. God has the final word: ‘You’re concerned about this plant, Jonah? And shouldn’t I be at least as concerned about all the people in this great city Nineveh?’

What is the takeaway for us? Simply this. God’s mercy and willingness to forgive are unlimited. When we resent God being good to people of whom we deeply disapprove, we’re like Jonah. And we’re also like another character in Holy Scripture: the elder brother in Jesus’ parable of the Prodigal Son. His anger at his father’s welcome for his shiftless younger brother is like Jonah’s anger at God’s goodness to the Ninevites. It shows that though the elder brother has never left home, he too is in a far country, far removed from his father’s boundless love and willingness to forgive. God’s mercy is not only for us. It is for all.

 

"MARY HAS CHOSEN THE BETTER PART."

Homily for Oct. 8^th, 2019: Luke 10:38-42.

          It seems unfair, doesn’t it? Even a child can see that it’s not right to leave your sister all alone in the kitchen while you make pleasant conversation with a guest. How can we make sense of the story?

          Before dealing with this question, it is worth noting that this is one of a number of instances in the gospels where Jesus rejects the second class status of women in his society. In Jesus’ day, only men were supposed to sit at the feet of a religious teacher and listen to his teaching. Women were supposed to stay out of sight and appear only to wait on the men. Jesus clearly rejects this double standard.

The story is not about the duty of hospitality. In Luke’s gospel it immediately follows the parable of the Good Samaritan, which we heard yesterday. That told us we must always be ready to help others in need. Today’s story is shows the futility of active service which, because it is not based on attentive listening to God=s word, becomes mere busyness. When Jesus says to Martha, AYou are anxious and worried about many things,@ he is not criticizing her for performing the duties of hospitality, but for doing so without first attending to his word. Martha, we might say, is the kind of person who likes to go about doing good, especially the kind of good that requires a lot of going about. 

Jesus doesn’t ask us to choose between being a Mary or a Martha. The true disciple of Jesus must be both. Mark=s gospel tells us that when Jesus called his twelve apostles, he called them for two reasons: Ato be with him, and to be sent out to proclaim the message@ (Mk 3:14). Which is more important: to be with Jesus, or to proclaim his message others? Both are important. If we ask, however, which must have priority C the relationship or the work C then the answer is clear. Our relationship with the Lord must come first. If we are not willing to spend time with him, sitting at his feet like Mary of Bethany and listening to his words, then all our efforts help others are just spinning our wheels. Luke gives us this story to challenge our priorities; to help us see that being with the Lord and listening to his word must be the basis of all we do for him – and for others.

That’s why we are here: to listen to the Lord speaking to us in his holy word; and to be strengthened for service to others by receiving his Body and Blood.

"WHO IS MY NEIGHBOR?"

Homily for Oct. 7^th, 2019: Luke 10:25-37.

          This well known story of the Good Samaritan was Jesus’ response to a question: “Who is my neighbor?” In other words: what are the limits to my obligation? Jesus never answers that question. Instead he tells a story about what it means to be a neighbor. And he concludes the story with a question of his own: “Which of these three was neighbor to the robbers’ victim?” The answer is obvious: the Samaritan. But Jesus’ questioner can’t bring himself to say that hated word. Samaritans were despised by Jews. So he resorts to a circumlocution: “The one who treated him with mercy.” To which Jesus responds: AGo and do likewise.@ The man had asked about the limits of his obligation. The parable says in effect: >there are no limits.=

          How, we ask, can Jesus make such a radical demand? For one reason alone: because this is the way he, Jesus Christ, treats us. Jesus is the despised outsider. Jesus is the one who finds us lying mortally wounded along life=s way. For no merits of our own, but simply because of his infinite compassion, Jesus comes to our aid. He binds up our wounds, pouring upon us the healing oil of his forgiveness in the sacraments of baptism and penance, the exhilarating wine of his love in his holy word and in the Eucharist.

He entrusts us to the care of his Church, promising to come again and again as often as may be necessary, to tend to our every need. Because of this total generosity toward us in our need, a readiness to help which caused Jesus to lay down his life for us, he is able to say to us: ‘See how much I have done for you C look what I am doing for you even now! Then go and do the same for others.’         

The man who asks Jesus, AWhat must I do to inherit eternal life?@ is like many sincerely religious people today. Wanting to do what is right, he develops a spirit directly contrary to God=s law, even when he thinks he is obeying the law. His question, AAnd who is my neighbor?@ shows that he was unable to get beyond the law=s details. To be cured, he needed to encounter the Lawgiver. 

His name is Jesus Christ.