"YOUNG MAN, ARISE!"

Homily for Sept. 17^th, 2013: Luke 7:11-17.

          Can there be anything more tragic than parents having to bury a son or daughter? The tragedy is deepened in the story we have just heard by the fact that the mother who must bury her son is the only child she has, and she is a widow. It was a man’s world. Women were the property of men in Jesus’ day: the property of their fathers until they married, then the property of their husbands. The Commandment, “Thou shalt not covet” lists a man’s wife among the things one must not covet. With her husband already dead, and now her son as well, this widow at Nain has no man to speak for her or protect her.

          This tragedy has parallels even in an age of women’s liberation. I remember as if it were yesterday standing as a young priest in a bleak and rocky cemetery in Arizona, where I had just laid to rest beside his long deceased father the only son of a widow named Nellie. Her deep Christian faith strengthened my faith then, and I continue to pray for her today. “There are my two men-folk,” Nellie told me when the prayers of committal were over.

          How could Jesus be indifferent to such grief? We heard in yesterday’s gospel about Jesus healing the gravely ill slave of a Roman military officer, to whom the sick patient was “very dear.” The young man being carried to burial at Nain is no less dear to his mother. Disregarding the Jewish law of ritual purity which said that one must not touch a corpse, Jesus unhesitatingly reaches out to touch the coffin saying: “Young man, I tell you, arise!” Whereupon, Luke tells us, the young man “sat up.” The Scripture commentators tell us that the Greek word which Luke uses for “sit up” is a medical term – hardly surprising when we know that Luke was what passed in those days for a medical doctor. Those who witnessed this miracle respond with the simple but powerful words: "God has visited his people."

          What better response could we make to this moving story than to pray the words of an old evangelical hymn: “What a friend we have in Jesus / All our sins and griefs to bear! / What a privilege to carry / Everything to God in prayer. / Are we weak and heavy laden, / Burdened with a load of care? / Precious Savior, still our refuge / Take it to the Lord in prayer.”

ADAM AND EVE AFTER THE PILL

[Published in Inside the Vatican Jan. 2013, p. 50f]

“THE WILL TO DISBELIEVE”

John Jay Hughes

Mary Eberstadt, Adam and Eve after the Pill: Paradoxes of the Sexual Revolution (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 2012; 171 pages, $19.95)

          Mary Eberstadt takes as her starting point a 1984 essay by the late Georgetown University professor and U. S. Ambassador to the United Nations, Jeane J. Kirkpatrick, castigating the widespread refusal of her contemporaries to believe that communism was evil. Right up to the dismantling of the Berlin wall in November 1989 the professoriat and the main stream media throughout the Western world were telling us -- in the face of overwhelming empirical evidence to the contrary including a communist death toll at least fifteen times greater than that of Hitler’s Holocaust -- that communism’s evils were no worse than those of western capitalism. Western Marxists contended that capitalism was worse than communism. And what was certainly worse, we were told throughout the Cold War, was anti-communism, the last refuge of fools, scoundrels, and unenlightened bigots. In her 1984 essay Kirkpatrick labeled this mindset “The Will to Disbelieve.”

          Early in this short but powerful book, Eberstadt states clearly the double-pronged thesis for which she provides abundant evidence. The sexual revolution, stemming from the contraceptive Pill, which makes it possible to separate sex from procreation (or as Eberstadt puts it, “nature from nurture”), has proved a disaster. And its burdens have fallen on society’s weakest and smallest members, while strengthening the most predatory.           

          First, then, the damage to women. Surveys have shown repeatedly that monogamous married people score higher on a whole list of happiness indicators. Husbands work harder and are more dependable than boyfriends and lovers. Cohabiting and single women are at far greater risk of physical and sexual abuse. Their children are more likely to drop out of school, to become involved with drugs and alcohol, to become incarcerated. Popular magazines which cater to today’s liberated women celebrate the freedom women now enjoy to have as much sexual fun as men; while complaining without end about the difficulty of finding a steady and committed boyfriend or husband.

          The sexual revolution’s damage to men is equally clear. It has prolonged adolescence, turning men into boys. It has led to an atrophying of the male protective instinct. By encouraging men to regard sex as pleasure without consequences, it leaves them with no one to protect. Men’s hunt for sexual novelty has killed the chances for long-term romance. Worst of all is today’s tsunami of pornography. Dismissed by the revolution’s cheerleaders as a purely private activity without harmful consequences, pornography has destroyed men’s ability to relate to real women, none of whom are as exciting or as totally available as those whom adolescent boys and men alike can summon at the touch of a computer mouse. Comparing the state of porn-addicted males to that of obese people gorging on unhealthy food and drink, Eberhardt wonders when, among today’s crusaders against obesity, one will arise to crusade against another epidemic no less damaging to human health and happiness.   

          In a chapter on “Toxic U, a world of experiential learning to which parents are never invited,” Eberhardt surveys the damage done by the sexual revolution to young adults. In the binge and hookup culture which thrives on many campuses today we see, once again, how sexual liberation has empowered the strong and penalized the weak. All the evidence, especially that from remorseful women themselves, shows that excessive drinking, and sex-without-consequences, are far more likely to damage girls than boys.   

          Eberhardt’s final chapter on “The Vindication of Humanae vitae” is masterful. Scorned as a laughingstock by those on the cultural heights, Pope Paul VI’s 1968 encyclical has proved remarkably prescient. The Pope warned that the pursuit of sex without responsibility or consequences would bring about four disasters: a general lowering of moral standards throughout society; a rise in infidelity; a lessening of respect for women by men; and coercive use of reproductive technologies by governments. It is beyond denial that every one of those things has come about. And those providing the evidence for them have been not Catholics, Christians, or political or social conservatives, but honest social scientists, willing to follow the data, wherever it may lead. Availability of the Pill and other means of artificial birth control has also led to an increase of illegitimacy and abortion.

          Even secular feminists, today’s principal defenders of the sexual revolution, complain of its bitter fruits for women, Eberhardt writes: “The suburban home as concentration camp, men as rapists, children as intolerable burdens, fetuses as parasites. … These are the signs of liberation? Even the vaunted right to abortion, both claimed and exercised at extraordinary rates, did not seem to mitigate the misery of millions of these women after the sexual revolution.”

          Eberstadt gives two reasons for the widespread will to disbelieve the sexual revolution’s bitter fruits. The first was identified long ago by Malcolm Muggeridge:  “People do not believe lies because they have to, but because they want to.” And from time’s beginning people, men especially, have wanted to believe that they could enjoy sex without penalty. A second reason is that there is today hardly a family untouched by one or more of the revolution’s consequences: divorce, single parenthood, abortion, cohabitation, widespread pornography, open homosexuality. Who wants to offend a divorced father, a homosexual brother, a struggling single mother?

          Is there light at the end of this very long tunnel? Eberhardt does not tell us. She deserves credit for describing in vivid and clear detail the evils that have come upon us, lightened here and there by delightful flashes of humor. My favorite is an extended quotation from Caitlin Flanagan, an American woman unwilling to accept feminism’s demand that men should do the same household chores as women. They can be cajoled into doing this, Flanagan writes,

but they will not do them the way a woman would. They will do as men have always done: reduce a job to its simplest essentials and utterly ignore the fillips and niceties that women tend to regard as equally essential. And a lot of women feel cheated and angry and even – bless their hearts ... surprised about this.

The sexual revolution is an example of what, for the Jewish Scriptures, is the supreme sin: idolatry – worshiping and looking for satisfaction from a god who can never answer our prayers, because he is deaf, dumb, and blind. St. Augustine said it in words unmatched for clarity and simplicity: “You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless, until they rest in you.” Or to put it in terms best understood by a generation raised on computers and the Internet: we are hard-wired for God.

He it is who gives us his beautiful gift of sexuality, thus enabling us to participate in the divine work of creation. Sexuality has inspired some of the world’s greatest art, in music, painting, sculpture, and literature. Difficult as it may be for a generation to accept which has abandoned the very notion of God as destructive of human happiness and flourishing, sexuality can bring us the deep joy intended by our Creator only when we exercise his gift in accordance with his laws. 

___________________________________________________

Fr. Hughes is a priest of the St. Louis archdiocese and author of the memoir, No Ordinary Fool: A Testimony to Grace.

'LORD, I AM NOT WORTHY . . "

Homily for Sept. 16^th, 2013: Luke 7:1-10.

          Palestine was governed by foreigners in Jesus’ day. Roman soldiers were everywhere. The centurion in today’s gospel was a military officer, the equivalent of a colonel today. Unlike most of his colleagues, however, he has taken an interest in the religion of the people among whom he serves. He finds the Jewish worship of a single God a refreshing change from the pagan religious system in which he has been brought up, with its multiple all too human deities who must be kept friendly by offerings and prayers. “He loves our nation,” his Jewish friends tell Jesus, “and has built the synagogue for us.”

          That was exceptional indeed. Exceptional too is the concern of this hardened military officer for his gravely ill slave. Our translation says that the slave was “valuable” to him. The word Luke uses means that the slave was “very dear” to his owner. The officer has heard that Jesus can cure people. Aware of the separation between Jesus and Gentiles, the officer sends “Jewish elders” to request healing for his dearly loved slave. 

          When Jesus responds to the request for healing by setting out for the officer’s house, he is met by another delegation, personal friends of the officer. The message they bring shows the officer’s knowledge of Jewish law. By entering a Gentile house, a Jew could become ritually unclean. “I’m not worthy,” he has his friends tell Jesus, for you to enter my house. Your physical presence isn’t necessary. Your command is sufficient. And to back this up, the officer has his friends tell Jesus: ‘I understand the power of command. I use it all the time, telling my subordinates to do this and that. They obey at once.’ Jesus is “amazed” at the officer’s faith, Luke tells us, so different from the refusal of belief in many of Jesus’ own people.

What about us? Do we have such faith? What better prayer could we offer

at this Mass than that of another petitioner for healing: “Lord, I believe; help my unbelief” (Mark 9:24).

"GOD SO LOVED THE WORLD . . . "

Homily for Sept 14th, 2013: Exaltation of the Cross. John 3:13-17.

At the center of every Catholic Church in the world is a cross. The cross hangs around the necks of hundreds of thousands of people in our world who give no other outward sign of being religious. Teachers of young children report that when they offer the youngsters a selection of holy cards and ask them to choose one, time and again children choose the picture of Jesus on the cross.

Why is the cross so important, and so central? Why, after two thousand years, has the cross lost none of its fascination and power?  The best answer is also the simplest: because the cross is a picture of how much God loves us. AThere is no greater love than this,@ Jesus tells us, Ato lay down one=s life for one=s friends@ (John 15:13).

AGod so loved the world that he gave his only Son,@ we heard in the gospel. It was the most God had to give. That is why the cross is at the center of every Catholic Church in the world. That is why the cross is also at the center of the Church=s preaching. Many people associate the words Apreaching@ and Asermon@  with a list of Do=s and Don=ts: all the things we must first do or avoid before God will love us and bless us. Yet the gospel is supposed to be good news. Is it good news to be told that God won=t love us until we have kept enough of his rules to show that we are worthy of his love? That doesn=t sound like very good news to me. It sounds like horribly bad news.

The gospel is the good news that God loves us just as we are, right now. How much does God love us? Let me tell you. A few years ago we had a 3-year-old Chinese girl, Doris, in our parish pre-school. I often went to meet Doris when she was dismissed from school. Together we would stand at the front door, waiting for her mother. How excited Doris was when she spotted her! She would run across the school yard as fast as her little legs could take her, to her mother=s waiting arms. It was heart-stopping. Beautiful as that was, however, it doesn=t begin to compare with God=s love for us.

The One who hangs on the cross, to show us God=s love, says elsewhere in this gospel according to John: AI am the light of the world@ (8:12). And in the continuation of today=s gospel he tells us that our eternal destiny is being determined, even now, by how we react to his light: "Everyone who does wicked things hates the light and does not come toward the light, so that his works might not be exposed. But whoever lives the truth comes to the light, so that his works may be clearly seen as done in God" (John 3:20f).

Are you walking in the light of Jesus= love? Or do you fear his light because of what it might reveal in the dark corners of your life which, like all of us, you try to keep hidden? We all have those dark corners. Now, in this hour, Jesus Christ is inviting you to put away fear. Come into the bright sunshine of his love. Once you do, the fire of Christ=s love will burn out in you everything that is opposed to his light. Then the reason for your fear will be gone. Then you will have no need to hide. You will be home. You will be safe: safe for this life, but also for eternity.

AWhoever believes in [Jesus Christ] will not be condemned, but whoever does not believe has already been condemned, because he has not believed in the name of the only Son of God. And this is the verdict, that the light came into the world, but people preferred darkness to light, because their words were evil.@

The eternal destiny of each one of us is being determined by our response to the light, and love, of Jesus Christ.  He is waiting for your response, right now.

THE SPLINTER IN A BROTHER'S EYE

Homily for Sept. 13^th, 2013: 1 Tim1:1-2, 12-14; Luke 6:39-42.

          Have you ever thought about how much easier it would be to prepare a list of sins for someone else to confess – especially if that other person was someone of whom you’re highly critical – than to list all your own sins? That would be much easier, wouldn’t it?

That’s what Jesus is talking about when he says in today’s gospel: “You notice the splinter in your brother’s eye, but do not perceive the wooden beam in your own.” He is warning us about something we’re all guilty of at times: being alert for even small faults and sins in others, while overlooking much more serious sins of our own.

          The Lord has given us the remedy for those sins: the sacrament of penance, or confession. One advantage of sacramental confession is that it forces us to confront our own particular sins, not to be content with simply confessing that we are sinners in general. And in confession the priest has an opportunity to help us with our own particular sins and difficulties. So many people today feel that they’re “just a number.”  In confession we’re not just a number. The priest is there for you personally, as a unique individual. But first you must come.

          Speaking for myself, I can tell you that without the sacrament of penance, or confession, I would not be a priest today. What a relief it was in the difficult years of adolescence – and more than a relief, a deep joy – to be able to go to a priest, tell him my sins, hear the words which assured me of God’s forgiveness; and then the beautiful closing words: “Go in peace, the Lord has put away all your sins.” Those words touched me so deeply that I still say them today, at the close of every confession I hear.

          Paul is talking in our first reading about his gratitude for God’s forgiveness when he describes the man he was before his conversion: “a blasphemer, a persecutor, an arrogant man.” He was acting, he says, in ignorance. But “the grace of our Lord has been abundant,” Paul says, “along with the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus.” We’re here to receive that abundant grace and that love from the One who is love himself: Jesus Christ.

JOY OVER ONE SINNER WHO REPENTS

The parable of the lost sheep, and the two which follow (about the lost coin, and the longer one about the prodigal Son), are Jesus’ response to his critics’ complaint: “This man receives sinners and eats with them.” Jesus’ association with such people was a scandal to his critics. To us, however, it is good news. We don’t have to gain a passing grade in some moral examination before the Lord will receive, love, and bless us. He welcomes us just as we are: not because we are good enough, but because he is so good that he wants to share his love with us.

To read the full homily go to this link, or copy and paste in your browser:

http://homilies.nowyouknowmedia.com/

"GIVE, AND GIFTS WILL BE GIVEN TO YOU."

Homily for Sept. 12^th, 2013: Luke 6:27-38.

            “Give and gifts will be given to you,” Jesus tells us in today’s gospel, “a good measure, packed together, shaken down, and overflowing will be poured into you lap. For the measure with which you measure will in return be measured out to you.”    

Is that how we normally think of giving? Don’t we assume that when we have given something away, then it’s gone – and we are poorer? In reality, our gifts do not make us poorer. They enrich us.

Let me tell you about someone afraid to give: a mother of two grown children, a son and a daughter. The son is seeking priesthood, as a member of a religious order. His mother thinks her son’s decision will make her poorer. Every time he goes home, she cries in front of him, and begs him to leave. There is only one word for such behavior: spiritual blackmail.

I don’t know that mother. And I don’t want to do her any injustice. But I’ve wondered. When Judgment Day comes and the books are opened, will the Lord say to her: ‘Mary, I wanted to give you another son, and even two. And you would have been just as proud of them as you are of that son of yours who even now is offering Mass for the repose of your soul. But you said No.’

Contrast that nameless mother with other mothers, and fathers as well, who affirm and support a son’s decision for priesthood. On his ordination day they shed tears of joy and pride at what their son is doing. He’ll never give them grandchildren, true. But he will have countless spiritual children – far more than he could ever have through marriage.

Who do you suppose is happier -- yes, and richer? the mother who cries in front of her son and begs him turn aside from God’s call? or the parents who joyfully support that call, knowing that the measure with which we measure will be measured back to us?

Think about it.  

WHY DOES PAUL CALL GREED IDOLATRY?

Homily for Sept. 11^th, 2013: Col. 3:1-11; Luke 6:20-26.

          “Put to death the greed that is idolatry,” we heard in the first reading. Why does Paul identify greed with idolatry? To answer that question, we must ask another: what are greedy people hungry for? They hunger for one or more of four things: possessions, pleasure, power, honor. If only I could get enough of those things, the greedy person thinks, I’ll be happy. Experience teaches otherwise. The pursuit of any of those things leads not to happiness, but to frustration. Why? Because we’ll never get enough. “Whoever thinks that having a lot of money will make you happy,” a millionaire said, “has never had a lot of money.” 

Possessions, pleasure, power, honor are all good. They become bad only when we make pursuing them central in our lives. Then, whether we realize it or not, we are guilty of idolatry: worshiping a false god who cannot hear or answer our prayers. Only the God of Jesus can do that. No one has said it better than St. Augustine: “You have made us for yourself, O God, and our hearts are restless until we rest in you.”

That helps us understand Jesus' words in the gospel: “Blessed [which means happy] are you poor … woe to you who are rich.” This raises another problem: few of us here are poor. And even those who may be poor, by American standards, are still better off than millions in the developing world who will go to bed hungry tonight.

The rich upon whom Jesus pronounces woe are not only those with many possessions. Jesus’ words are a warning also to people of modest means who are fully content with their present, comfortable existence; who do not realize their need for God; and that what they do have is a gift from God for which they must thank him every day.

Moreover, even the materially rich can join those whom Jesus calls blessed or happy, provided that they share their goods with those in need, realizing that, like every human being, they stand before God saying in the spirit of the old evangelical saying: “Nothing in my hand I bring / Simply to your cross I cling.”