"DO NOT WORRY ABOUT YOUR LIFE."

Homily for June 22nd, 2019: Matthew 6:24-34.

          “Do not worry about your life,” Jesus says, nor about what you will eat, drink, and wear. In Jesus’ day Galilee, where he spoke those words, was relatively prosperous. Were he speaking in a region of dire poverty, like many places in the Third World today, his words would seem heartless, and he would have spoken differently. The Greek word translated “worry” really means “be concerned about,” or “be preoccupied with.”

          Jesus uses examples from nature to encourage trust in God’s care. The people who first heard Jesus’ words lived close to nature. When he spoke about the birds, they knew how hard birds work. A collection of photos of birds’ nests that landed in my e-mail box recently showed intricate constructions that must have required weeks to build.

          Jesus goes on to speak about the beauty of nature, exemplified by wildflowers. His hearers did not live, like so many today, in concrete jungles. They looked out daily on God’s handiwork. Jesus’ conclusion: “If God so clothes the grass of the field, which grows today and is thrown into the oven tomorrow, will he not much more provide for you, O you of little faith? So do not worry  …”

          Here is what a man of science says about worry. Dr. Charles H. Mayo, one of the founders of the Mayo Clinic in Minnesota, writes: “Worry affects the circulation, the heart, the glands, the whole nervous system. I have never known a man who died from overwork, but many who died from doubt.”

What is the cure for worry? I know none better than the message of an evangelical hymn:

Cast your eyes upon Jesus / Look full in His wonderful face
And the things of earth will grow strangely dim / In the light of His glory and grace

O soul are you weary and troubled? / No light in the darkness to see
There's light for a look at the Savior / And life more abundant and free

His words shall not fail you, He promised / Believe Him and all will be well
Then go to a world that is dying / His perfect salvation to tell.

 

TREASURE IN HEAVEN

Homily for June 21^st, 2019: Matthew 6:19-23.

          At a fund raising dinner for St. Louis University many years ago, the principal speaker was the then Chancellor of the university, Fr. Paul Reinert SJ. “They say you can’t take it with you,” he told the crowd. “But you can send it ahead.” The roar of laughter from the more than five hundred people attending went on for a full minute at least.

          Laugh if you like, but this is what Jesus tells us in today’s gospel. “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and decay destroy, and thieves break in and steal. But store up treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor decay destroys, nor thieves break in and steal.”  

          A man of great wealth said once: “Whoever thinks that having a ton of money will make you happy has obviously never had a ton of money.” Jesus speaks about thieves who break in and steal. People of great wealth today have to worry about much more than thieves. If they have children they must hire guards to prevent kidnapping. They cannot keep fixed and regular hours, lest they themselves be waylaid and harmed. They must constantly worry about servants and other employees ripping them off and harming them financially or in other ways.

          “Store up treasure in heaven,” Jesus says. Heavenly treasure cannot be lost. And you will be happy both in this life, and in the life to come. How do we store up treasure in heaven? By doing good to others; by putting God first, others second, and ourselves last; by letting no day pass without spending some time at least with God in prayer. And we don’t need to wait for heaven to receive a reward. People who try to do those things are happy here and now – no exceptions!

Our life here on earth is sometimes compared to the weaving of a tapestry. Those who work on it weave it from the back. They cannot see the pattern, or only dimly. That is because the pattern is visible only from the front.

One day, however, when the Lord calls us home, we’ll see the tapestry from the front. What looks to us now like a tangle of loose ends will be something wonderful. “How beautiful!” we’ll say. And then we’ll ask: “Did I do all that?” And the Lord God will answer: “Well, you did some of it. I did the rest.”

 

THE LORD'S PRAYER

Homily for June 20^th, 2019: Matthew 6:7-15.

          With his gift of the Lord’s Prayer, the only prayer Jesus ever gave us, he offers us a pattern for all our prayer, especially private prayer. “Father,” Jesus begins. When we begin like that, we are acknowledging that we can’t make it on our own. From infancy to old age we are dependent on Another: the One whom Jesus addressed with the intimate word, Abba – akin to “Daddy” in English.

Three petitions follow, having to with our heavenly Father himself. “Hallowed be thy name” is the first. It means “may your name be kept holy.” God’s name is kept holy when we speak it with faith, not as a magical word to get his attention, or to con him into giving us what we want. We couldn’t do that even if we wanted to, for God acts in sovereign freedom.

          “Thy kingdom come” is a petition for the coming of God’s rule over us and the whole world. We are unhappy, and frustrated, because the world, and too often our own personal lives as well, do not reflect God’s rule. “Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven,” extends this petition. In heaven God’s will is done immediately, and gladly.

          Four petitions follow which have to do not just with own needs, but also with those of our brothers and sisters in God’s family: for bread, forgiveness, deliverance from temptation, and victory over evil.

          Here is a suggestion which can help you to appreciate the Lord’s Prayer more deeply. Rather than just rattling it off, as Catholics mostly do, take at least five or ten minutes to pray it slowly, phrase by phrase, even word by word. Start with the opening word: “Our.” Ponder the full meaning of that word. Pray that you may be mindful not only of your own needs, but also of the needs of others -- your brothers and sisters. That could be your whole prayer for five or ten minutes. Move on the next day to the word “Father,” and on the day following pray over the words “Hallowed be thy name.” Practiced faithfully, and with patience, this way of praying the one prayer Jesus has given us will help you realize that the words are not just a pious formula. Rightly prayed, they bring you close to Him who tells us in John’s gospel: “All this I tell you that my joy may be yours, and your joy may be complete” (15:11).

ALSMGIVING, PRAYER, FASTING

Homily for June 19^th, 2019: Matthew 6:1-6, 16-18.

          Continuing his Sermon on the Mount, Jesus speaks in today’s gospel reading about almsgiving, prayer, and fasting. Traditionally associated with Lent, these religious practices are spiritually profitable at all times – provided (and this condition is essential) that they are done for God, and not to gain recognition and praise from others. The Roman stoic philosopher, Seneca, a contemporary of Jesus, makes this point when he writes: “Whoever wants to publicize his virtue labors not for virtue but for glory.” Jesus says the same with his thrice repeated statement, “they have received their reward.” The reward he is referring to is human recognition and glory – and beyond that, nothing. To receive a reward from God (and Jesus never tells us to be indifferent to rewards, provided they come from God) our almsgiving must be quiet, if possible anonymous. Then, Jesus says, “your Father who sees in secret will repay you.”

          Similarly with prayer. Jesus is speaking here not about public worship; he himself took part in such worship in the Temple and in synagogues. He is speaking about private prayer when he says: “When you pray, go to your inner room, close the door, and pray to your Father in secret.” The 4^th century bishop of Milan, St. Ambrose, explains that Jesus is not talking about “a room with four walls separating you physically from others, but the room that is within you, where your thoughts are shut up, the place that contains your feelings. This room of prayer is with you at all times, wherever you go it is a secret place, and what happens there is witnessed by God alone.” (On Cain and Abel B 1:34)

          Fasting too should be secret, Jesus says. We fast for two reasons. First, to strengthen our wills. Voluntarily denying ourselves food and drink that we may legitimately enjoy helps us to say no to pleasures that God’s law forbids. And the sacrifice which fasting requires strengthens our prayer for the things, people, and causes for which we pray. When we fast, the Lord who sees in secret recognizes that the intentions for which we pray are so important to us that we are willing to disregard hunger and thirst, that they may be granted.

CORPUS CHRISTI

THE EUCHARIST AS REAL PRESENCE, SACRIFICE, AND MEAL

June 23rd, 2019: Corpus Christi, Year C. 

Genesis 14: 18-20; 1 Cor. 11:23-26; Luke 9:11b-17.

AIM: To explain Catholic eucharistic doctrine and spirituality.

 

What is the most important thing that we, as Catholic Christians, do together?  Beyond question, it is what we are doing right now, as we obey Jesus’ command to his friends at the Last Supper, recorded in our second reading, to “do this ... in remembrance of me.” The Catechism, citing language from the Second Vatican Council, calls the Eucharist “the source and summit of the Christian life” (No. 1324).

On Holy Thursday we commemorate Christ’s command to celebrate the Eucharist. But the Church gives us, in addition, today’s feast of Corpus Christi: two Latin words which mean “the body of Christ.” Those words remind us that the Eucharist is one special way in which Jesus comes to be with us until the end of time. Whenever we obey Jesus’ command to “do this” with the bread and wine, he is present as truly as he was present at the Last Supper in the upper room. One thing only is different: the manner of his presence.

In the upper room Jesus was present physically and visibly. His friends could see him, hear him, touch him. Here Jesus is present sacramentally and invisibly: in, under, and through the sacramental signs of bread and wine. As the Catechism says: “This presence is called “real ... because it is presence in the fullest sense: that is to say, it is a substantial presence by which Christ, God and man, makes himself wholly and entirely present.” (No. 1374).

When, as Pastor, I used to preside at the First Communion of young children, I would hold up a piece of the bread which would be brought to the altar to be consecrated and ask:

“What is it?” The children all knew the answer: “It is bread.” Then I would ask: “If I were to hold this up again after the long prayer which we call the consecration and ask you, ‘What is it?, what would you say?” To which the youngsters were taught to answer: “It is the Body of Christ.” When children are old enough to understand the difference between ordinary bread, and the consecrated bread of the Eucharist, they are ready to receive the Lord in Holy Communion.

Outwardly, of course, the consecration changes nothing: what we can see, touch, and taste remains unchanged. Inwardly, however, everything is changed. This inner change -- what the Catechism calls “the conversion of bread and wine into Christ’s body and blood” (No. 1375) -- can be perceived only by the inner eye of faith. The Church asks us to affirm this faith before we receive Christ’s body and blood in Communion. When the minister of Communion says, “The body of Christ,” we respond “Amen” -- which means: “It is -- I believe.” We do the same before receiving the Lord’s precious blood.

More is present in the Eucharist, however, than merely Christ’s body and blood. Present too is his self-offering to the Father, which we call Christ’s sacrifice.  From time immemorial people have offered sacrifices to God. Our first reading, for instance, told about Melchizedek offering God bread and wine, as a thank-offering for Abraham’s victory over his enemies. The purpose of that sacrificial offering, and of all sacrifices, was to establish fellowship between the worshipers and God to whom they made their offering. 

All these material sacrifices shared a common flaw, however. They involved giving to God, who is all-holy, things that were tainted by the sins of those who offered the sacrifice. The only perfect sacrifice ever offered to God took place on Calvary. There Jesus Christ offered his sinless life to his heavenly Father: the gift of a spotless victim by a sinless priest, Jesus himself.

Jesus’ self-offering achieved what all previous sacrifices attempted but failed to achieve: the forgiveness of sins and fellowship with the all-holy God. Jesus’ sacrifice is a unique past event. As such, it cannot be repeated. In the Eucharist, however, it is sacramentally commemorated. The unique past event becomes, through the sacramental sign, a living reality in the present, as truly as Christ’s body and blood are present. As the Catechism says: “The Eucharist ... re-presents (makes present) the sacrifice of the cross ... ” (No. 1366). Paul says the same when he writes, in our second reading: “As often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the death of the Lord until he comes.”

That final phrase, “until he comes,” points toward a third aspect of the Eucharist. In addition to making present both Christ’s body and blood, and his sacrifice, the Eucharist is the continuation of the meals Jesus shared with his friends while he was on earth. As such, the Eucharist reaffirms Jesus’ promise that he will receive us at the heavenly banquet of eternal life hereafter.

Our gospel reading recounted a meal Jesus shared with a vast crowd in the wilderness. Here in the Eucharist, as there, Jesus is the host. The priest is only his representative. Priests wear special clothes at the Eucharist to show that we are acting not for ourselves, but for another; so that our own identity can disappear, as it were, beneath the uniform of the One we represent.

That meal which Jesus hosted in the wilderness, and this meal amid the wilderness of our own chaotic age, both point beyond themselves to a future fulfillment. The Eucharist is a pledge and foretaste of the perfect and complete union with our heavenly Father that we shall enjoy when God calls us home to be with him forever. Then we shall enjoy fellowship with God not intermittently but continuously, without interruption and without end.

The Catechism sums up these three aspects of the Eucharist by quoting an ancient prayer of the Church: “O sacred banquet in which Christ is received as food, the memory of his Passion is renewed, the soul is filled with grace and a pledge of the life to come is given to us” (No. 1402).    

Here in the Eucharist the risen and glorified body and blood of Christ are sacramentally present -- in a spiritual manner, but really and truly. Here Christ’s unique, all-sufficient, and unrepeatable sacrifice is sacramentally present. Here the Lord Jesus holds fellowship with us, his sinful but dearly loved sisters and brothers, as a promise and foretaste of the eternal fellowship meal with God that we shall enjoy hereafter.

Do we realize any of that when we come here to worship? Do we remember that this is a holy place, where we encounter God himself? 
When President Ronald Reagan died fifteen years ago, people who had worked with him in the White House told stories about his respect and reverence for the office entrusted to him, and for the room where so many great decisions had been made.

Entering that room for the first time after his inauguration and sitting down at the President’s desk, Reagan turned to Mike Deaver, who had been with him since Reagan was governor of California, and asked: “Mike, do you have goose bumps?” Months later, after a ceremony in the rose garden on a boiling hot August afternoon, Reagan returned to the Oval Office, drenched in sweat. “Take off your jacket, Mr. President,” Mike Deaver said. “Be comfortable.”

To which Reagan replied: “Mike, I couldn’t take off my jacket in this office.”

What happens here at Mass is of infinitely greater importance than anything which has ever happened in the Oval Office. Are we half as respectful, half as reverent?

"BE PERFECT."

Homily for June 18^th, 2019: Matthew 5:43-48.

          “Be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect.” That’s a pretty high standard, isn’t it? Which of us can be perfect – especially if the standard of perfection is the Lord God himself? The only honest answer to that question is: none of us!

          Here, and throughout the Sermon on the Mount, from which our gospel readings last week and this have been taken, Jesus is plugging up the loopholes in the law. He tells us that the commandment, “You shall not commit adultery,” forbids even lustful thoughts; that “You shall not kill” prohibits even angry words and thoughts.

          Jesus is making it impossible for us to suppose that, by our good deeds and attempts to fulfill God’s law, we can establish a claim on God. We never have a claim on God. God has a claim on us. And it is an absolute claim.

          Does this mean there is no reward for our attempts to be faithful to the Lord? Of course not. Jesus speaks of rewards often. He wants us to understand, however, that people with an entitlement mentality will never be satisfied with their reward. That’s the point of Jesus’ story about the laborers in the vineyard, all paid the same, though some had worked only an hour.

“They all get the same” a wonderful old German Sister said after this story was read out in a community conference. She was burned up about it. We should be burned up about it. If not, either we are not listening; or the story is so familiar that we don’t feel its sharp cutting edge.

That story, with its seemingly unjust conclusion, makes sense only if we ask: who, at the end of the day, was happy? And who was unhappy? Cleary, the only  happy workers were those who had worked but one hour. They knew they deserved little. They were bowled over to receive a full day’s pay.

Appeal, Jesus is saying, not to what you think you deserve; appeal instead to the Lord’s generosity. Learn to stand before Him saying the words of the hymn, “Rock of ages,” (known to few Catholics, but a favorite of our Protestant brothers): “Nothing in my hand I bring / simply to your cross I cling.”

Jesus’ command to “be perfect” would be discouraging, but for a vital truth we must never forget. What is impossible for us is not impossible for God. That was the angel Gabriel’s message to a teenaged Jewish girl, bowled over by the news that she was to be the mother of God’s Son: “Nothing is impossible for God.”

"NOW IS THE ACCEPTABLE TIME."

Homily for June 16^th, 2019: 2 Corinthians 6:1-10.

          “We beg you not to receive the grace of God in vain,” we heard in our first reading. “Grace” is the biblical word for God’s love, which includes the help we need to follow him. Grace is not something we can earn. It is a free gift. To be useful, however, we must accept and use what God gives us, out of sheer generosity. Refusing to do so is what Paul calls “receiving the grace of God in vain.”

          How do we do this? Most often, probably, through procrastination. ‘I’ll get to that tomorrow,’ we think. ‘Right now I’m more concerned with . . .’ my own affairs, plans, whatever. In Jesus’ parable of the rich man and poor Lazarus, who lies unnoticed at the rich man’s gate, the rich man, after his death, asks Abraham to send someone to his still living brothers, lest they too experience the torment the rich man is undergoing. Abraham’s response to this seemingly reasonable request sounds callous: “Let them read Moses and the prophets.” That was Jesus’ way of telling his hearers, ourselves included, that present circumstances are always enough for us to believe in God and serve him.

Most of us, most of the time, live and work in circumstances that are less than ideal. Confronted with our modest achievements, we plead that they are a consequence of our limited opportunities. When things change and we get into better circumstances, we shall be able to accomplish so much more. That is an illusion.       

          The golden opportunities that beckon on the other side of the horizon will never arrive if we are not using the opportunities, however limited, that are before us right now. It is here and now, in the present moment (the only time we ever have) that we are called to faith in God, and to generous service of God and others — and not somewhere else, tomorrow, when everything changes at the touch of some magic wand and our lives cease to be drab and become wonderful.   

          That is what Paul is telling us with his simple but powerful words: “Now is the acceptable time! Now is the day of salvation!”