15th SUNDAY IN YEAR C: LAW OR LOVE?

LAW OR LOVE?

15 Sunday in Year C: July 14^th, 2029: Luke 10:25-37.

AIM: To show the meaning of the good Samaritan parable for us today.

The story we have just heard is so well known that its title, “The good Samaritan”, has entered into everyday speech.  Even people unfamiliar with the New Testament know that “a good Samaritan” is someone who helps a person in need.

Asked by “a scholar of the law” – a man who has studied the Ten Commandments and the centuries of rabbinic commentary on God’s law – about the conditions for eternal life, Jesus poses a counter-question: “What is written in the law? How do you read it?” As a good teacher, Jesus knew that people remember best the answers they have found themselves. Answers given by the teacher cost the questioner nothing and are easily forgotten. The man’s response combines two scriptural texts: the command to love God completely in Deuteronomy 6:5 and the command to “love your neighbor as yourself” from Leviticus 19:18. Jesus’ reply affirms this answer: “You have answered correctly. Do this and you will live.”

The man says he still has a difficulty. It is not a moral difficulty — how to love God and neighbor. His difficulty is intellectual: how far does his obligation extend? “And who is my neighbor?” With his unique ability to read hearts and minds, Jesus perceives the man’s real difficulty at once. By assuming that he has all the ability to love that is required and needs only to know the limits to which he must extend his love, the man has disclosed that his love is seriously deficient.  Jesus recognizes that what the man really needs is not instruction but conversion. 

With great tact, and without allowing the man to feel rebuked, Jesus tells a story.

        The seventeen-mile road from Jerusalem to Jericho leads, even today, through trackless sand dunes with no sign of human habitation save the occasional Bedouin tent. In Jesus’ day, robberies and muggings were frequent along this lonely way. In the prevailing daytime heat a severely wounded man’s chances of survival were slim without first aid. The victim in this story has been beaten and stripped of his clothes. He has lost a great deal of blood and is in shock. He lies unconscious, his condition critical. Jesus himself calls the man “half-dead.”

The first two travelers to come by, first a Jewish priest and then a Levite, are returning to Jericho, a town with a large population of clergy, after their eight-day tour of duty at the Temple in Jerusalem. Both “saw him [but] passed by on the opposite side.” We need not assume that they were indifferent to the man’s fate.  They might have feared that the muggers were still lurking nearby, waiting to strike again. In that case it would be best not to linger. Another motive for not stopping, especially if the man was dead, was unwillingness to incur ritual impurity through touching a dead body.

In Jesus’ day, as in ours, people were familiar with stories that had three characters. Following the appearance of two clergy, therefore, Jesus’ hearers would have expected that the next passerby would be a Jewish layman. As so often, however, Jesus surprises us. When the next passerby turns out to be a Samaritan, Jesus’ hearers are shocked. The hostility between Jews and Samaritans was notorious, something like that between Sunnis and Shiites in Iraq today. Shortly before the passage we are considering, Samaritan villagers refuse to give Jesus lodging, because they recognize him as a Jew, “on his way to Jerusalem” (Lk 9:53).

Devout Jews had a special aversion to Samaritans because, though ethnically related to God’s people, they did not recognize the Jewish prophets and did not observe God’s law. The actions of this Samaritan show, however, that he is living the law’s spirit far better than Jesus’ questioner with all his knowledge of the law’s letter. Like the priest and Levite, the Samaritan “sees” the man. Unlike them, however, he is “moved to compassion.”

The Samaritan gives the unconscious victim first aid: oil for its soothing properties, wine as a disinfectant. Taking him to the nearby inn, he remains with him overnight. Jesus makes this clear by saying that the man gave the innkeeper two silver pieces “the next day.” Commentators have calculated that this would pay for the man’s care for twenty-four days. His injuries are obviously grave if he must remain so long.  Innkeepers in Jesus’ day had a reputation like that of taxi drivers in some parts of the world today. Without this generous payment, and the Samaritan’s promise that he would return to take care of any further expenses, the victim would have been at the innkeeper’s mercy.

As the story ends, Jesus has still not answered the question, “And who is my neighbor?” Instead he has shown how a true neighbor behaves. He remains tactful with his questioner. He might have asked: “Which of these three most resembles yourself?” Such a question would have put the man on the defensive, blocking the change of heart he needed. Rather than confronting his questioner with a lesson difficult for him to accept, Jesus invites the man to draw his own conclusion.  “Which of these three, in your opinion, was neighbor to the robbers’ victim?”

The answer is obvious: “The Samaritan.” We see just how difficult it was for the man to state the obvious, with its uncomfortable implications, in the fact that he cannot even utter the name of the despised outsider. He resorts to a circumlocution: “The one who treated him with mercy.”

Only when the man has himself stated what no one hearing the story could fail to see, does Jesus confront him directly: “Go and do likewise.” At last the man has his answer — though even now only by implication. His neighbor, the one who has a claim on him — on his time, his trouble, his purse — is anyone at all who is in need. The man had asked about the limits of neighborly obligation. The parable says in effect: ‘there are no limits.’

That is breathtaking. It would be breathtaking, that is, if the story’s sharp cutting edge had not been dulled for us, like so much of Scripture, by familiarity.  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, hated and rejected by those who ought to have known, recognized, and welcomed him.

Jesus is the one who finds us lying bruised, battered, mortally wounded along life’s way. Without the help that he alone can supply, our situation is hopeless. For no merits of our own, but simply because of his infinite compassion, Jesus comes to our aid. Heedless of the cost to himself, 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 — look what I am doing for you even now!  Then go and do the same for others.” The man who asks Jesus, “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” is like many sincerely religious people. 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, “And 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. 

"PRAY THE LORD TO SEND LABORERS."

Homily for July 9^th, 2019: Matthew 9:32-38.

          The brief gospel reading we have just heard is a kind of bridge between the reports Matthew has been giving us about Jesus’ deeds of compassion on the one hand, and his call to others to share in this compassionate care of God’s people. The summary is contained in a single sentence: “Jesus went around to all the towns and villages, teaching in their synagogues, proclaiming the Gospel of the Kingdom, and curing every disease and illness.” The sentence following describes Jesus’ reaction to the needs of those who flocked around him, to hear his words and receive healing. “His heart was moved with pity,” our translation says. In the original Greek the word for heart refers to the inner organs in general. Matthew is saying that Jesus was all ‘churned up in his gut’ at the needs he saw all round him. They were “troubled and abandoned,” Matthew tells us, “like sheep without a shepherd.”

          “The harvest is abundant,” Jesus says then, “but the laborers are few; so ask the master of the harvest to send out laborers for his harvest.” Those are the last words in chapter nine of Matthew’s gospel. Chapter ten, which we shall hear tomorrow, starts with Jesus’ call of twelve men from his disciples, to be apostles.

          We need to take Jesus’ call for laborers seriously. We should be praying often, even daily, that many of our young people will hear and heed the call to serve him as priests, deacons, and religious Sisters and Brothers. But we need to do more. If you know someone who you believe would serve well in one of those roles, speak to him or her about it. If that is too difficult, then tell a priest about that person, so he can do the recruiting himself. In today’s world pursuing a religious vocation is so counter-cultural that candidates need all the encouragement and support we can give them. Moreover, many young people are just waiting to be asked. And if we don’t ask them, who will?

JESUS' RESPONSE TO FAITH

Homily for July 8^th, 2019: Matthew 9:18-26.

          Today’s gospel recounts two miracles: one a miraculous healing, the other a resurrection from the dead. All the healings reported in the gospels are Jesus’ response to faith. Mark’s gospel tells us that when Jesus visited Nazareth, where he had grown up, “he could work no miracle,” because the people who had known him for years lacked faith. (Mk 5:6).   

          In today’s gospel the first person to manifest faith is a synagogue elder whose daughter has just died. He believes Jesus can bring her back to life. Greater faith than that one cannot imagine. The second person who approaches Jesus with faith is a woman who has suffered hemorrhages for twelve years. Jews had a special aversion to blood. Still today the Jewish dietary laws say that to be kosher, and hence fit for human consumption, meat must have all the blood drained from it before it before it comes to the table. This helps us understand that the situation of the woman with hemorrhages is desperate. She makes her request for healing not in words, but by grabbing hold of the tassel on one of the four corners of the prayer shawl worn by Jewish men. She is so confident in the power of Jesus that even this contact with his garment can bring her his healing.

          Both petitioners receive what they seek in faith. Sensing that power has gone out from him, Jesus turns around and confronts the woman. “Courage, daughter!” he tells her. “Your faith has saved you.” “And from that hour,” Matthew tells us, “the woman was cured.”

          When Jesus arrives at the house of the synagogue elder, he finds a crowd already mourning the death of the man’s daughter. Hired flute players are playing a funeral dirge. “Go away,” Jesus tells them. “The girl is not dead but sleeping.” Not for the first time in the gospels, the people ridicule him, confident that he has lost touch with reality. When the crowd has dispersed, Jesus enters the house, takes the girl by the hand, and raises her to life.

          What better response could we make to the story of these two miracles than to repeat the anguished words of the father in Mark’s gospel seeking healing for his deaf mute son who seems to have what we would call epilepsy. Asked by Jesus whether he believes healing is possible, the man replies – and we repeat: “Lord, I do believe! Help my unbelief!” (Mark 9:24).

A QUESTION ABOUT FASTING

Homily for July 6^th, 2019: Matthew 9:14-17.

          To understand the question about fasting in today’s gospel we must know that for Jews of Jesus’ day was a way of mourning. It was also a way of expressing sorrow for sin. Still today observant Jews fast on the Day of Atonement, when God’s people fast to express sorrow for the sins they have committed in the past year. The people who ask Jesus why his disciples do not fast are disciples of John the Baptist. He taught them to fast, because repentance was central in his preaching.

          Responding to the question about why Jesus has not taught his disciples to fast, he replies simply that as long as he is with them, fasting is inappropriate. This is a time not for mourning, Jesus says, but for joy. God has come to earth in human form. Taking up a theme which is frequent in the Old Testament, Jesus refers to himself as the bridegroom. Israel’s prophets said repeatedly that despite the sins of God’s people, God would not always remain estranged from them. He was going to invite them to a joyful banquet, a symbol of unity between God and humans. (See Isaiah 25.)

          This invitation is renewed every time Mass is celebrated. Despite our unworthiness God uses us priests to extend his invitation: “Everything is ready; come to the feast.” God, the host at this banquet, longs to have you with him. He wants to fill you with his goodness, his power, his purity, his love. 

          He cannot fill you unless you come.

          He cannot fill you unless you are empty.

He cannot fill you unless you confess your need, which means preparing by acknowledging your unworthiness.

          How often have you heard this invitation before? How often will you hear it again? One day you will hear it for the last time. Then you will receive another invitation: to appear before your divine Master, your King, your Creator, your ever loving Lord. Will that encounter fill you with fear and dread? Or will you overjoyed to encounter a dearly loved friend? The Lord in his goodness allows us to choose. It is the most important choice we shall ever have. 

A SINNER'S CALL

Homily for July 5^th, 2019: Matthew 9: 9-13..

          Jesus speaks just two words to Matthew: “Follow me.” Without hesitation, Matthew gets up and follows Jesus. Other disciples of Jesus have already done the same, when, at Jesus’ command, they abandoned the tools of their trade as fishermen, their boats and nets, to follow Jesus. What motivated this immediate obedience? I think that if we could have questioned any of them, Matthew included, they would have replied: “There was something about this man, Jesus, which made it impossible to say no.” 

          Unlike the fishermen whom Jesus called to follow him, men whom we would call blue collar workers, Matthew was a member of a despised and hated minority: the tax collectors -- not civil service workers or government officials, like those who collect taxes today, but ripoff artists. They entered into an arrangement with the hated Roman government of occupation to supply a steady stream of revenue. How they got the money, and how much remained in their own pockets, was of little concern to the officials, as long as the money kept coming.

          Matthew was accustomed to being rejected by his fellow citizens. Delighted by Jesus’ call, Matthew invites the Lord to dinner in his house. “Why does the Teacher eat and drink with tax collectors and those who disregard the law?” Jesus’ critics ask indignantly. Jesus overhears the question and answers it himself. “People who are in good health do not need a doctor,” Jesus responds, “sick people do. . . . I have come not to call not the self-righteous but sinners.”

What is the message for us? To receive Jesus’ call and his loving care, we need to recognize and confess our need. And the first thing every one of us needs from Jesus is forgiveness.

 

 

FREEDOM IS NOT FREE

Homily for July 4^th, 2019.    

             The 56 men who signed the Declaration of Independence in Philadelphia 243 years ago today pledged their lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honor. Have you ever wondered what happened to them? 

Five signers were captured by the British as traitors, and tortured before they died. Twelve had their homes ransacked and burned. Two lost their sons serving in the Revolutionary Army; another had two sons captured. Nine of the 56 fought and died from wounds or hardships of the Revolutionary War.

What kind of men were they? Twenty-four were lawyers and jurists. Eleven were merchants, nine were farmers and large plantation owners: men of means, well educated, but they signed the Declaration of Independence knowing full well that if they were captured, the penalty would be death.

          Carter Braxton of Virginia, a wealthy planter and trader, saw his ships swept from the seas by the British Navy. He sold his home and properties to pay his debts, and died in rags. Thomas McKeam was so hounded by the British that he was forced to move his family almost constantly. He served in the Continental Congress without pay, and his family was kept in hiding. His possessions were taken from him, and poverty was his reward. Vandals or soldiers looted the properties of 8 others [Dillery, Hall, Clymer, Walton, Gwinnett, Heyward, Ruttledge, and Middleton].

At the battle of Yorktown , Thomas Nelson, Jr. noted that the British General Cornwallis had taken over the Nelson home for his headquarters. He quietly urged General George Washington to open fire. The home was destroyed, and Nelson died bankrupt. Francis Lewis had his home and properties destroyed. The enemy jailed his wife, and she died within a few months. John Hart was driven from his wife's bedside as she was dying. Their 13 children fled for their lives. His fields and his gristmill were laid to waste. For more than a year he lived in forests and caves, returning home to find his wife dead and his children vanished.

As we give thanks to God for the courage and generosity of these founders of our beloved country, we need to remember: Freedom is never free!

THOMAS WAS NOT WITH THEM

Homily for July 3^rd, 2019: John 20:24-29.

          On the evening of Jesus’ resurrection, Thomas was not with the other apostles. He did not see Jesus until he rejoined them a week later. Then he uttered what many scripture scholars believe may have been the last words spoken by any of Jesus’ disciples in the original version of John’s gospel: “My Lord and my God!”

Thomas’s experience has an important lesson for us. Faith is not a private me-and-God affair. Jesus taught us this in the one prayer he gave us. It begins not “My Father,” but “Our Father.” We pray as members of a community. We need each other. Why? Here’s one answer.

Dwight L. Moody, founder of the Moody Bible Institute in Chicago, tells about visiting an old friend. As they chatted in the evening by the friend’s fireplace, the host said to Moody. “I don’t see why I can’t be just as good a Christian outside the Church as within it.” Without replying, Moody used tongs to pick up a blazing coal with tongs, allowing it to burn by itself.  In silence the two men watched it smolder and go out.       

          Dwight Moody believed that the support which believers give one another was an affair of this world only. We Catholics believe more. When we say in the Creed, “I believe in the communion of saints,” we are acknowledging that the community which we entered through baptism extends beyond this world. It includes the saints and our beloved dead. A passage in the letter to the Hebrews expresses this belief. It comes at the beginning of chapter 12. The preceding chapter recounts the great heroes of faith in the Old Testament. The writer portrays them as spectators in an arena, cheering on and encouraging us, who are still competing in the race which they ran before us. Then come these words. I discovered them as a young teenager. They thrilled me then. They thrill me still:

          “Seeing then that we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which clings so close, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the beginning and end of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising its shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God.”

14th SUNDAY: NATIONALISM vs. PATRIOTISM

INDEPENDENCE?

14^th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year C.  Luke 10:1-12, 17-20.

AIM: To warn against nationalism and encourage patriotism.              

 

Three days ago we celebrated the 243rd anniversary of our country’s independence. The gospel reading we have just heard speaks, however, not of independence but of dependence. “I am sending you like lambs among wolves,” Jesus tells his disciples. Sheep are grass eating animals which spend much of their lives grazing. Wolves on the other hand are meat eating, always on the prowl for unsuspecting prey. Sheep, and especially young lambs, are among their favorites.       

So when Jesus tells his disciples that he is sending them like lambs among wolves, he is reminding them of their vulnerability. Far from instructing them to outfit themselves with equipment to reduce this vulnerability and make them independent, however, he orders them to do the opposite. They are to leave behind even such basic necessities as shoes, food, and money -- items which would make them inviting targets of wolfish greed. They are to remain sheep-like and vulnerable, completely dependent on him as shepherd.

We Americans need no reminder of our vulnerability as we celebrate Independence Day this year. The morning headlines, and the evening television news, show us daily the terrorist wolves which surround us. The limits to our cherished independence are painful for us Americans. For well over a century, roughly until the First World War of 1914-1918, we were confident that two broad oceans protected us from foreign wars and enemies. No more. The terrorist attacks of 9/11/2001, removed forever any doubt on that score. What is the appropriate response?

To that question there is no lack of answers. In the end they come down to two.  The first is the response of nationalism. The second seems similar, but is in reality quite different: patriotism. 

A spokesman for nationalism is the American naval hero, Stephen Decatur.  Born in Maryland as the son of a naval officer in 1779, he entered the navy himself age the age of nineteen. In 1804, when only twenty-five, he commanded an American warship which sailed into the harbor of Tripoli in North Africa, where the U.S. frigate Philadelphia had been captured, after running aground. To prevent those who had taken the ship from enjoying their prize, Decatur set the frigate afire and bombarded the town. This was the first of many similar exploits which, in the words of the encyclopedia article from which I have taken this information, earned him a reputation for “reckless bravery and stubborn patriotism.” Whether Stephen Decatur was truly patriotic I want to consider in a moment. There is no doubt, however, that he was reckless. He died in 1820, when only forty-one, from wounds suffered in a duel: an attempt to prove who was “right” at the point of a gun -- something not merely reckless but insane.

Decatur is best remembered for his frequently quoted toast at a banquet in Norfolk, Virginia. He asked the guests to drink to “Our country! In her intercourse with foreign nations, may she always be in the right; but our country, right or wrong.”  That is a classic expression of nationalism. Nationalism recognizes no standard higher than that of one’s own country. It finds expression today in the mindless simplicity of the bumper sticker: “America. Love it or leave it!”            

Nationalists resent and repudiate any suggestion that criticism of one’s country might be an expression of love for country -- for failing to live up to the highest and best in its history and tradition. Few forces in the world today are more destructive of peace and happiness than nationalism -- the exalting of one’s own country over all others, regardless of the cost in human misery and suffering.

Patriotism, on the other hand, is love of one’s country not because it is in every respect “best"; and certainly not because it always has been or always will be “right” -- but simply because it is ours. Isn’t that how parents love their children? Last Christmas a friend of mine who is a professor in one of our law schools sent me a Christmas card with a picture of his five children, several of them teenagers. In an e-mail I said: “How proud you must be of your children.” He responded: “I’m proud of them 90% of the time.” When I told that to a father of teenagers in the parish I was then serving, he commented: “That's a very high percentage.” Both those fathers, however, dearly love their children; not because they are “the best,” and certainly not because they are perfect, but simply because the children are theirs: the fruit of their parents’ love. 

Patriots love their country in a similar way. A spokesman for patriotism is the German-American Carl Schurz. Born in Cologne, Germany, in 1829, he came to this country in 1852. An admirer of Abraham Lincoln, Schurz fought for the Union in our Civil War, rising to the rank of Major General. After the war he was owner and editor of a German language newspaper here in St. Louis, the Westliche Post. From 1869 to 1875, Schurz was one of Missouri’s two Senators in Washington, where he opposed the punitive “Reconstruction” policy imposed on the South by his own party after the Civil War. Taught as a schoolboy at his Jesuit school in Cologne that there is a higher law which stands above all human laws and judges them, Carl Schurz believed, like his fallen hero, Lincoln, that this higher law required not punishment for the southern states but reconciliation, to bind up the nation’s wounds.

In a Senate speech Carl Schurz quoted Stephen Decatur’s words and responded to them. "Our country, right or wrong! When right, to be kept right; when wrong to be put right!” That is the voice of patriotism, which is a Christian virtue. Nationalism, which is pride on a public scale, is incompatible with our Christian and Catholic faith. 

The celebration of Independence Day should remind us as Catholic Christians that we have dual citizenship. We are citizens of our country, which we love because it is ours. But we are citizens also of a higher realm: the invisible and spiritual kingdom of heaven. As citizens of our country we work with all people of good will for justice and peace: in our community, in our nation, and in the world. As citizens of God’s kingdom we acknowledge a higher law than those made by Legislatures or Congress. When those human laws command -- or, as in the case of abortion, when they permit -- what God’s law forbids, we respond as the apostle Peter (whom we celebrated with his companion Paul nine days ago) responded to the unjust commands of authority in his day: “We must obey God rather than men” (Acts 5:29). 

Appeal to this higher law evokes today the angry protest that it amounts to imposing our special morality on a pluralist society. Slave holders brought the same charge in the 1850s against those who wanted to abolish slavery. “We’re not forcing you to own slaves” the slaveholders said. “But don’t force your special morality on us.”  Those who call themselves “pro-choice” make the same argument today.

You have probably seen the bumper stickers which say: “Against abortion? Don’t have one!” Would the people who display that slogan put a sticker on their cars which said: “Against slavery? Don’t own one!” They’d be ashamed. We are ashamed today of laws which permitted slave holders to treat human beings as property. We pray that the day the day will come when we will be no less ashamed of laws which permit us to treat innocent babies in the womb as disposable bits of tissue which can be cut out like an appendix and thrown away. 

The Declaration of Independence, which we have just celebrated, lists in first place among those truths which it calls “self-evident” the “right to life.” Defending this right for all -- not just for the strong, the healthy, and the self sufficient but also for the unborn, the aged, and the gravely ill -- earns us today the scorn and hatred of people who consider themselves sophisticated and enlightened. They too are among the wolves that threaten us today. In confronting them we have Jesus’ assurance in today’s gospel reading: “I have given you power to ‘tread upon serpents’ and scorpions, and upon the full force of the enemy and nothing will harm you ... Rejoice because your names are written in heaven.”