Category Archives: Passionists

27th Sunday C: Faith Like A Mustard Seed

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For an audio homily:

Faith like a mustard seed

Like the apostles, we would like a stronger faith. “Increase our faith,” they ask Jesus. Give us faith that understands everything immediately and sees everything clearly–right away! We can hear ourselves asking for faith like that too.

In response, Jesus offers the image of a mustard seed. Look at this tiny seed, he says. With faith like this, you can accomplish the most impossible things. What does he mean?

A mustard seed is so small that you hardly can see it in the palm of your hand, Yet once in the ground it grows into a full sized tree, through cold and heat, nights and days, all kinds of weather. But it takes time.

Faith is like that. It grows, but its growth takes place over time, day by day, through the common experiences that come our way. God dwells in the ground of daily life and it’s there we meet him most of all. That’s why the psalm for today’s Mass insists: “If today you hear his voice, harden not your hearts.”

Today in countless little things, in unassuming moments, God speaks to us. God acts. And even as the moments slip by, God’s plan unfolds. We need a daily faith, a patient faith, a faith like the mustard seed, to wait until it reaches its completion. “The vision still has its time, presses on to fulfillment, and will not disappoint. If it delays, wait for it, it will surely come, it will not be late.”

A daily faith that watches God’s plan unfold in the course of things.

26th Sunday C: Social Justice: What is It?

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To listen to today’s homily, please select the audio file below:

The last two Sunday’s our first reading has been from the Prophet Amos. Today’s reading from Amos is linked to the story that Jesus tells in Luke’s gospel. He speaks of a rich man living very comfortably, living luxuriously, who can’t see the poor beggar, Lazarus, outside his door. God judges him severely.

Having these two readings together, we can understand why some people in Jesus’ time thought he was a prophet. Jesus’ message about the poor was like that of the prophets. We can see also how important social justice is in the gospel. We can’t have religion without justice. Religion without justice is an affront to God who wishes all his children be justly cared for and loved.

Let’s take a look, first, at Amos, the prophet. Amos was ordinary sheepbreeder, he bred sheep in northern Israel about 700 years before Christ. In his time Israel was very prosperous and so were the countries around her, Syria, Phoenicia, Egypt, but their prosperity came at a price. They had everything they wanted–at least, the elite of those societies had everything they wanted. More often than not, though, their prosperity came at the expense of the poor.

In our readings these last two Sunday’s you hear Amos’ severe indictment, not only of the people of Israel, but of her neighbors as well. They’re trampling on the needy. He fiercely attacks those who are well off and don’t see the poor of the land.

“…lying upon beds of ivory, stretched comfortably on their couches,” eating the best food, drinking the best wines, not caring at all about those who are falling apart around them.

Amos was an ordinary sheep herder, but he knew what was going on, and he wasn’t afraid to say what he saw. He calls out everyone, kings, rulers, political people, priests, religious leaders, business people, anyone who’s cashing in on the needy and the poor of the land.

The Lord won’t forget what you have done, he tells them.

God won’t forget what you have done. Notice, the prophet doesn’t appeal to economics and say it’s not good economics to neglect the poor and have a society of “have’s and have nots.” No. The prophet doesn’t appeal to politics and say a fractured society isn’t good for a community; it’s going to lead to violence, riots, internal instability. No. The prophet doesn’t appeal to human good feeling and say that being good to the poor will help you feel better about yourself. No.

A prophet like Amos sees the world through God’s eyes and God’s values. That’s who the prophet is: one who sees the world through God’s eyes and God’s values. “Your kingdom come. Your will be done.” The goods of this world are not just for some people, for the few. This world is God’s world, and it’s meant for the good of all. That’s what the prophets say. That’s what the saints say, saints like Mother Theresa say the same thing. They see the world through God’s eyes and God’s values. That’s what social justice means, it’s justice for all.

That’s what Jesus says in his parable today. Notice, Jesus doesn’t say much about the rich man who’s dressed well and eats well. He doesn’t tell anything about the house he lived in, or his status in society or the way he got his money, or his wealthy friends, or where he spends his vacations. No. In fact, he doesn’t even tell us his name.

The only name Jesus offers in the parable is the poor man’s name, Lazarus, who has the same name as the man Jesus raised from the dead. How different too that is from our society, which knows the names of all the rich and famous and forgets the names of the poor.

We need to listen to prophets and saints. We need to listen to the teaching of Jesus in the gospel. We need to see things right. We need to see this world as God sees it.

And we need to act justly in our world, justly to all.

25th Sunday C: The Lord Hears the Cry of the Poor

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Listen to the homily here:

As our young people begin school we pray for them, but let’s not forget to pray for good teachers for them. When I entered my community, The Passionists, in 1950, I was fortunate to have a teacher who went on to become one of the leading figures in the environmental movement. His name was Father Thomas Berry. You can find information about him on Wikipedia. He died in 2009.

I remember the first day he came into class with a stack of booklets in his hands. “We have to know what’s going on today in the world,” he said, “and so we’re going to study The Communist Manifesto.”

Now remember, this was 1950. Senator Joe McCarthy had begun a witch-hunt to root out Communist sympathizers and I think The Communist Manifesto was on the church’s list of forbidden books. We studied it.

Fr. Tom never mentioned Joe Mc Carthy or the threats of a Communist takeover in Europe or what was happening then in China. No, he was interested in where the Communist Manifesto came from. Beyond Karl Marx and Lenin, he traced it back to the Jewish prophets and their demands for justice for the poor and human rights. Probably the prophet with the strongest voice against injustice to the poor was the prophet we hear in our first reading today: the Prophet Amos.

Amos was sheepbreeder, he bred sheep in northern Israel about 700 years before Christ. In those days Israel prospering and so were the countries around her, Syria, Phoenicia, Egypt, yet prosperity came at a cost. They were getting everything they wanted–at least, the elite of those societies were getting everything they wanted– and more often than not it was at the expense of the poor.

You can hear Amos’ indictment, not only the people of Israel, but her neighbors as well, for trampling on the needy and destroying the poor of the land.

“When will the new moon be over,” you ask,
“that we may sell our grain,
and the sabbath, that we may display the wheat?
We will diminish the ephah,
add to the shekel,
and fix our scales for cheating!
We will buy the lowly for silver,
and the poor for a pair of sandals;
even the refuse of the wheat we will sell!”

Amos was an ordinary sheep herder, but he knew what was going on, and he wasn’t afraid to say what he saw. A prophet calls out everyone, kings, rulers, political people, priests, religious leaders, business people, anyone who’s cashing in on the needy and the poor of the land.

The Lord won’t forget what you have done, he tells them.

God won’t forget what you have done. Notice, the prophet doesn’t appeal to economics and say it’s not good economics to neglect the poor and have a society of “have’s and have nots.” The prophet doesn’t appeal to politics and say a fractured society isn’t good for a community; it will lead to or to violence, riots, internal instability. The prophet doesn’t appeal to human good feeling and say that being good to the poor will help you feel better about yourself. No.

A prophet like Amos sees the world through God’s eyes and God’s values. “Your kingdom come. Your will be done.” Saints like Mother Theresa do the same thing. They see the world through God’s eyes and God’s values.

That’s why we need to listen to prophets and saints. They help us see things, even the complicated things, right.

Laudato Si and Thomas Berry

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This weekend we had a program at our monastery in Jamaica, New York, entitled Pope Francis’ Encyclical Laudato Si and the Wisdom of Thomas Berry, Passionist. The main presenters were Mary Evelyn Tucker and John Grim, senior lecturers and research scholars at Yale University.

The program began Friday evening with the award-winning film “Journey of the Universe” produced by Tucker and Grim along with Brian Swimme, which brilliantly portrays the story of our universe as science today explains it. On Saturday Mary Evelyn and John lectured on the pope’s encyclical, the influence of Thomas Berry and the contribution of native peoples to the critical question of the environment. I was among the commentators responding to their presentations:

I was one of Fr. Thomas Berry’s first students. It was at Holy Cross Preparatory Seminary in Dunkirk, NY in 1950. It’s usually not noted in biographical material about him, but Tom taught history to seminarians that year and I was in his class.

I remember the first day he came into class with a stack of booklets in his hands. “We have to know what’s going on today in the world,” he said, “and so we’re going to study The Communist Manifesto.”

Now remember, this was 1950. Senator Joe McCarthy had begun a witch-hunt to root out Communist sympathizers and I think The Communist Manifesto was on the church’s list of forbidden books. We studied it.

Yet, Tom never mentioned Joe Mc Carthy or the threats of a Communist takeover in Europe or what was happening then in China. No, he was interested in where the Communist Manifesto came from. Beyond Karl Marx and Lenin, he traced it back to the Jewish prophets and their demands for justice for the poor and human rights. The long view of history was what interested him.

After the Communist Manifesto, we studied St. Augustine’s City of God. Two loves are building two cities, Augustine said. Again, Tom didn’t dwell much on the historical events used by Augustine to illustrate his theory of history. It was the overall dynamic of the two loves in conflict over time that interested him.

From Augustine, we studied Christopher Dawson and his book The Making of Europe. Dawson, one of the 20th century’s “meta-historians,” wasn’t interested only in Europe; he was interested in the whole panorama of civilizations that came before it. That was Tom’s interest too.

As far as I remember, Tom didn’t speak of the universe and its evolution, his focus in later years, yet you could see him heading that way. He had a mind for the long view of things.

Pope Francis in Laudato Si also has a mind for the long view of things, it seems. The pope doesn’t quote from The Communist Manifesto, but he insists, more strongly than the manifesto, on the rights of the poor, to which he joins a strong insistence on the rights of the earth.

Can we also hear echoes of Augustine’s City of God in Laudato Si? I think so. The pope speaks of two loves in conflict. There’s the love that builds the city of man. How describe it today? How about blind consumerism; we love things too much. We love our vision of material progress too much. We love our technology too much. We love our control over the earth too much. We love ourselves too much. The result is “global indifference” to an environment falling apart. (Laudato Si, 9,14)

Opposing that love is a love the pope sees in Francis of Assisi, “who was particularly concerned for God’s creation, for the poor and the outcast…he would call all creatures, no matter how small, by the name of ‘brother’ or ‘sister’… If we approach nature and the environment without this openness to awe and wonder, if we no longer speak the language of fraternity and beauty in our relationship with the world, our attitude will be that of masters, consumers, ruthless exploiters, unable to set limits on their immediate needs.” (LS, 13)

Berry, like the pope in Laudato Si, accepted science’s view of our environment, yet also like the pope he distanced himself from a major trait of the era of the Enlightenment which unfortunately causes us in the western world “to see ourselves as lords and masters of our environment, entitled to plunder her at will.” (LS, 2)

Science teaches us a lot about our environment and its perilous condition today, but knowledge is one thing and love is another. Two loves are at work. Love doesn’t always follow what we know, especially if our hearts are fixed on something else. Love is hard to change.

I heard the preachers and teachers and ordinary folk in the workshops that followed our workshop presentations bemoan the poor reception the pope’s encyclical has received so far. Why isn’t the environment a critical issue in our parishes, in the media and in the political world? Why aren’t we undergoing what the pope calls “an ecological conversion?”

There are many reasons, I suppose, but one thing seems sure. It’s not going to happen overnight through some quick fix. We need to get ready for the long haul. And what does that mean? We need wise teachers and leaders to guide us, like Thomas Berry and Pope Francis.

“The present time is not a time for desperation, but for hopeful activity.” Thomas Berry, CP

Victor Hoagland.CP

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

23rd Sunday C: Going to School

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Audio homily here:

The kids will be going to school after Labor Day; their older brothers and sisters are probably in colleges and graduate schools already. It’s a new school year at places of learning throughout the country.

What about us who aren’t going to school? Do we learn too? If we believe that learning is life long, then we’re still going to school, the school of life. In our first reading from the Book of Wisdom we’re reminded how little we know, despite what we might sometimes think. “Scarce do we guess the things of earth and what is without our grasp we find with difficulty.” We have to be life-long learners.

We’re fragile learners, we have to keep at it, so we go to the School of Everyday.

One of the psalms says: “Teach us to number our days aright that we may gain wisdom of heart.” Our days are our school, the prayer says, so how can we go about numbering our days aright that we may gain wisdom of heart?

Well, could I suggest a way ? It may sound so simple I’m afraid to suggest it. Why not follow our church calendar? Why not use it as our school?

Most of us get church calendars around New Year’s Day. That have the seasons and feast days of Jesus and his saints. Maybe we hang them up in the kitchen and look at them occasionally, but the calendar provides great hints for learning and living day by day.

She’s not on our calendar yet, but she will be. This Sunday Mother Teresa will be canonized, that dynamic little nun who went to the world’s poorest places to take care of the poor, the sick and the dying. The wisdom we learn from her is that we’re all called to be more generous with the poor of this world and those around us. She teaches us something we easily forget. She’ll be on our calendar next year.

The saints in our calendar show us that God has raised up wonderful people through the ages and God’s still works, even in our time, with us. The saints are not just people of the past to admire or pray to, they challenge us to go beyond ourselves and imitate them in our time, and they tell us we can do it.

Look at the saints and feast days coming up this month in September. There’s St. John Chrysostom, September 13th. He complained that people of his time didn’t know much about the church’s calendar: “Many people today just about know the names of the feasts we celebrate in church. They know hardly anything about where we come from and what it means… What a shame.” He challenges us to remember and not forget the teachers of faith we have.

September has a parade of interesting saints, like Gregory the Great, September 3rd, the pope who lived when the Roman world was falling apart. He didn’t fall apart. He believed it was to do something and he reached out to the ends of the world of his time. He sent missionaries out to faraway England and northern Europe. In a world falling apart, he tells us don’t give up, be courageous. There are still things to be done. St. Peter Claver, September 9th, worked among the black slaves in Colombia, South America. He reminds us not to forget there’s still slavery in our world. Don’t forget it: let’s try to get rid of it.

Saints Cornelius and Cyprian, September 16, early Chistian martyrs, remind us that people died for the faith we believe in. It’s that important. September 26th , St. Vincent De Paul was inspired by God to take care of the poor in France. He started a whole movement in the church of people who looked after the poor. St. Matthew, the tax collector, September 28th. Jesus called him to be one of his apostles. Others looked down on him. But God didn’t look down on him, nor does he look down on us. St. Jerome. September 30th was a saint who loved the bible and constantly studied it. That’s something we should do too. Most of our calendars give us a list of the scriptures we’re reading in church. So why not read them with the church day by day. That would be a wonderful way to keep learning.

September 14th we celebrate the Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross. It’s like a Holy Week in September. We need to be lifted up by the mysteries of Jesus continually. He died and he rose again. We die and rise again with him. September 15 we remember the sorrows of the Mary. Every month we have at least one feast of Mary, this month, September, we have two. We remember her birth on September 8. She is our companion as we follow her son. She can help us understand him and do whatever he tells us.

On September 1st this year, Pope Francis asked the church to remember creation, and the care of creation that each of us is called to give. He wants us to join Christians of the eastern church who also remember the duties we have to the created world, so endangered because of our abuse.

Our calendar is like a school book that lays out lessons we need to learn throughout the year, day by day, and so as programs for religious formation begin in our schools and parishes this month, don’t forget the church calendar. It’s your school, a good teacher and, you know, like any good teacher, it knows we are forgetful listeners. It’ll be back again next year.

22nd Sunday C: Friend, Come Up Higher

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Listen to audio:

Meals of every kind are described in the New Testament. Jesus begins his ministry at a wedding banquet in Cana in Galilee, John’s gospel says. Before his death, he has a meal with his disciples and after his resurrection he has some meals with them again. Martha and Mary and his friends in Bethany celebrate the return of Lazarus from the dead at a meal. His enemies say he ate too many meals with tax-collectors and sinners. Some of Jesus’ most profound teachings and actions take place at a meal.

Today in our reading from Luke’s gospel Jesus is invited to a Sabbath meal at the home of one of the leading Pharisees, but this meal is different from those just mentioned. They were carefully watching him, the gospel says. At a Sabbath meal God is thanked for his gifts, which he gives to all, but at this meal Jesus is being watched. He’s not an ordinary guest as he enters this home. He’s there to be measured and grilled by his hosts and put in his place.

At the time of Jesus it wasn’t unusual for a symposium to take place at a meal, especially in the home of someone like the leading Pharisee in today’s gospel. A symposium was an occasion when there would be a discussion of issues: questions would be raised, controversial matters would be debated. It was a time for people with quick wits and sharp tongues to show off how smart they were.

At this meal Jesus was going to be discussed; questions and controversies about him would be brought up and he would be disposed of. So we might imagine the guests at the Pharisee’s home on that occasion were like spectators at a prize fight, looking for the best seats to watch and maybe even take part in the contest themselves.

If this meal was a symposium, and I think it was, listen carefully to Jesus’ words to those who were there. He doesn’t just tell his hearers about common etiquette; he reminds them what this meal should be all about. This is a Sabbath meal. It’s a time for thanking God for the gift of life. It’s a time for rejoicing, not for showing off how smart you are. This is time when God calls us up higher. “Friend, come up higher.” From our small places here on earth, from the smallness we might consider our lives to be, God calls us up higher. It’s not a time pulling people down with your smart words.

For that same reason, this is a meal where everyone should have a place at the table, not just the wealthy and the privileged, the smart and the powerful, but “the poor, the crippled, the lame and the blind.”

Now, that’s what our Mass is about, isn’t it? Our Mass is our Sabbath meal where we give thanks for the gift of life. We give thanks to God. It’s right and just, our prayers say. We do this at all times, “always and everywhere,” but now we do it as disciples with Jesus our Lord. We listen to his word, we come to him in the bread and the wine, and through them he comes to us.

“Lift up your hearts.” “Friend, come up higher.” We lift up our hearts to the Lord. God calls us to come up higher, to see our gifts and the destiny we’re promised, to recognize our relationship with one another, to let go of the fears and doubts that cloud our minds, to feel the peace and hope God wishes us to have. The Mass prepares us for the life beyond this time. . “The Mass is ended. God in peace.” “Thanks be to God.”

Our Mass is a wonderful teacher, and we’re meant to take what it teaches and make it part of the rest of our lives. Let me give you a simple example, since we’re speaking about meals. Suppose we could make our meals, our eating together, Sabbath meals, where we enjoy the gifts of God we find in food and in one another.

That may sound like a strange suggestion. It sounds strange because eating together is becoming a endangered practice today. For one thing, a lot of people eat alone today, or if they come to a meal they might as well be eating alone.

Wouldn’t it be wonderful if all our meals became times when we experienced those words of the gospel: “Friend, come up higher,” when we build each other up instead of tearing each other down, when we all feel welcome by others, even the stranger and the outsider, when we enjoyed the gifts of God in food and human companionship.

20th Sunday C: Speaking Truth

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To listen to today’s homily, please select the audio file below:

Our first reading this Sunday is from the prophet Jeremiah, a lonely prophet–some might say a dreary prophet. He had the misfortune of living  at a time when people were unquestioning about the prevailing wisdom of their day.

The ruling king in Judea was smart and popular; his advisors unanimously backed him, his army was loyal and public opinion was on his side– almost 99%.  Except for Jeremiah, who spoke against his policies, questioned his advisors, scolded his soldiers and predicted the destruction ofJerusalem.

What do you do with someone like that? They decided to bury Jeremiah in a deep cistern where no one could hear him and eventually he would die. He was only saved because someone said he shouldn’t die, his voice should be heard.

Well, shortly afterwards, in 586 BC, the Babylonians came into Judea, leveled Jerusalem to the ground and carried away most of its population as slaves to Babylon– as Jeremiah had predicted.

Jeremiah wasn’t fanatical, a fanatic doesn’t question himself. He was a realist, a man who believed in God and saw things as they are.  In the book that bears his name, he repeatedly questions himself and worries about what people were saying. He wants to be accepted – like us all. He complains to God about being a prophet but realizes a prophet has to speak, even if he’s out-of-step with the prevailing wisdom of his day.

Listen to Jesus in the gospel today. You can hear the prophet Jeremiah. Jesus brings fire to the earth. Fire can bring light and warmth, but fire can also drive away. Faith can bring people together, but it can also bring separation, even dividing families. It can bring loneliness and unacceptance, especially when it challenges the prevailing wisdom of the day.   

How does faith clash with our prevailing wisdom today? For one thing, it can clash with our prevailing concept of happiness. Our prevailing wisdom says we have a right to perfect human happiness, here and now, you, me, everybody.  We have a right to perfect health, a perfect body, a perfect mind, a perfect life.

Utopia is right around the corner, in the laboratory waiting to be discovered, in political platforms waiting to implemented. Never mind a heaven above, we want a heaven on earth. A world where there’s no sickness, no sorrow, or death. Heaven on earth.

So we tell the drug companies and our medical establishment – “Give us bodies that will dance every day and minds that will never fail. Take loneliness away from us, help us live on a high. Give us eternal youth, give us life-long sexual pleasure, give us perfect health and a lot of wealth. 

So we tell our leaders and politicians to promise us everything under the sun and then get it done right away.

But does happiness, complete happiness come right away? Yes, we pray that God’s kingdom come on earth as it is in heaven. But it will come on God’s time, not ours. It will be God’s kingdom, not ours. To trust in ourselves or in human promises and progress brings disappointment and even hopelessness.

We need to listen to prophets like Jeremiah and the warnings of Jesus. We have to recognize the incompleteness of the world we live in and to trust in the fire that never goes out.

That’s the wisdom we hear in an old song, which you don’t hear sung too much any more.

“I’m just a poor, warfarin stranger, traveling through this world of woe. There’s no sickness, no toil or sorrow, in that dear land to which I go.”

Jeremiah could have sung that song.

Beauty from Scraps of Things

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Yesterday, I visited my friend, Duk Soon Fhwang, a Korean born artist whom you see peeking out at you from her New Jersey kitchen through her wonderland of hand-crafted art. As a child  in hard times under the Japanese and then during the Korean War, her mother told her that even if you’re poor,  you can bring beauty into the world through scraps of things, pieces of paper or cardboard you find almost everywhere. 

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From scraps of things Duk Soon creates colorful streams, birds, flying creatures of all kind, an old man fishing. She’s blessed with a creative imagination. She sees beauty waiting in stuff others throw away.

Isn’t that a gift we all could use?

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19th Sunday C: Prayer and Violence

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To listen to today’s homily, please select the audio file below:

When tragedies occur like the recent violent attacks in Nice and Orlando or the murder of the priest in France, they’re usually followed by demonstrations of concern. People place flowers or notes or lighted candles near where the attacks occurred. A Mass was celebrated for the priest. Muslims as well as Christians came.

We need to pay attention to things like this. As Christians we say we need to pray.

I notice recently, though, that some question the response of prayer. They want action instead of prayer. “Don’t say you’re going to pray, do something,” they say, as if prayer were a waste of time and did nothing.

Now, let’s admit sometimes that accusation is true. Sometimes we promise to pray and it’s just a gesture meaning nothing at all. Prayer, though, is more than a gesture. It’s a way of getting through life and knowing what to do.

Our second reading today from the Letter to the Hebrews describes the faith of Abraham, but it also describes his prayer, because prayer along with works are expressions of faith. We can learn about prayer from the great Jewish patriarch. Abraham’s prayer is a constant prayer, a faithful prayer, a daily prayer.

God called Abraham to “ go out to a place that he was to receive as an inheritance; and he went out, not knowing where he was to go. “ Not knowing where he’s going from day to day, he lives in tents. Abraham prays as he goes; he prays each day, because God must show him the way, day by day.

We’re like him, aren’t we? On our way each day, and each day’s different. We need God to show us the way. We’re people who live in tents. “Give us this day our daily bread.”

Abraham also has to deal with things he doesn’t understand, the Letter to the Hebrews says. God originally promises him and Sarah his wife a child as they begin their journey, but they don’t have a child until their old age when having a child seems impossible. Listen to the way it’s described:

By faith Abraham received power to generate, even though he was past the normal age—and Sarah herself was sterile—for he thought that the one who had made the promise was trustworthy.  So it was that there came forth from one man,himself as good as dead,descendants as numerous as the stars in the sky and as countless as the sands on the seashore.

There are a lot of things we don’t understand, especially the promises of God. They come in God’s time and not ours. We question the trustworthiness of God. Prayer is a way of accepting God’s time. “Your will be done.”

Finally, God commands Abraham to take his son Isaac up upon a mountain and sacrifice him. What a disturbing example of violence, like the violence we saw at Nice and Orlando and the murder of the priest as he ended Mass.

Why did God permit it, we ask? Things like that make life itself seem absurd and meaningless. They make us lose hope in the world in which we live.

And so we look at the mountain where God sacrificed his Son. Why did God do it, we ask? “He rose again on the third day and will come to judge the living and dead.” We need to pray before the Cross of Jesus, who tells us suffering and death are not the final word. God’s final word for us and our world is life.

“ Abraham reasoned that God was able to raise even from the dead,and he received Isaac back as a symbol.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

18th Sunday C: You Can’t Take It With You

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To listen to today’s homily, please select the audio file:

For the last four Sundays our gospels have been from St. Luke’s journey narrative. From chapter 9 to Chapter 18 Luke’s gospel describes the journey Jesus takes from Galilee to Jerusalem where he will suffer and die and rise again. This is not an ordinary journey. He gathers disciples on his way. He’s not making this journey alone. On his way to Jerusalem Jesus calls people to follow him and he teaches them how to follow him, so that they may be taken up into the mystery of his death and resurrection.

We learn as we listen how Jesus called people then and what following him means. We learn how he calls people now.

For one thing, we see that some of those Jesus met then didn’t seem eager to follow him at all. For example, two weeks ago our Sunday gospel was about the teacher of the law who asks Jesus “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” Jesus tells him to love God and love his neighbor. But Luke says the teacher of the law, “wishing to justify himself” says “Who is my neighbor?” You get the impression that this fellow is a self-assured teacher who knows everything. He’s one of the scribes, the Jewish teachers whom the gospels say were hostile to Jesus. He’s there not to learn or to follow but maybe to compete, to show off what he knows or to discredit Jesus as a teacher.

Jesus tells the parable of the Good Samaritan, which seems to silence the teacher of the law. You wonder if the meeting challenged him and eventually changed him. We don’t know. What we do know is that Jesus met people on the journey to Jerusalem who didn’t respond immediately to his call, like the teacher of the law.

Matthew’s gospel has a similar story, about a rich young man who approaches Jesus on the journey and asks him “ What must I do to gain eternal life?” Jesus tells him to love God and his neighbor and adds the challenge to “Go sell what you have and give to the poor and come follow me. But the young man “went away sad, for he had many possessions. ( Matthew 19, 16 ff.)

Again, we wonder if the young man ever reconsidered later? We like to think so. But the story doesn’t say. It only says that he resisted the call of Jesus. In the case of the rich young man, it looks like his life style got in the way.

Today’s gospel is about another person who doesn’t seem to answer Jesus’ invitation to follow him. “Someone in the crowd said to Jesus “Teacher, tell my brother to share the inheritance with me.” You can see what’s mainly on his mind– money and maybe getting back at his brother. Not an unusual story, by the way. A lot of family fights are about money.

Jesus tells the man “I’m not here as your lawyer or financial mediator.” In fact, he cautions him about greed. “Life does not consist of possessions.” Then he tells the story of a rich farmer feverishly building barns for storing his wealth and thinking, “This will do it! I can rest, eat, drink and be merry for the rest of my life.”

“You fool,” God says. “You and your wealth can be gone in a night.”

It’s another story of Jesus’ call on his journey from Galilee to Jerusalem going unanswered.

As we listen to these stories, it’s evident that some then didn’t answer the call of Jesus to follow him and we see some of the reasons why. In the teacher of the law, it seems to be pride. He knows everything. In the rich young man, it was his life style, the good life. In the man in today’s gospel, it was money and greed and maybe anger with his family. The things make them deaf to the call that can bring them so much; they can’t hear.

It’s the same today. The journey of Jesus goes on in our time and in our lives. He calls us now and we may resist him, for many of the same reasons we’ve mentioned. We can be just as deaf as some were then.

But there’s something else we should remember as we read the gospel narrative of Luke about the journey of Jesus to Jerusalem. The journey is a favorite theme in Luke’s gospel. It occurs over and over. A key to its meaning is found in the journey reported in the last chapters of Luke’s gospel when Jesus, risen from the dead, journeys from Jerusalem to Emmaus with two of his disciples. They don’t recognize him, but he keeps walking with them unrecognized, patiently continuing to challenge their unbelief and reluctance, waiting for the moment when their hearts burn and they recognize him. He stays with them, the gospel says. The journey is a journey of mercy and patience. He will not leave them.

That’s what we should remember as we hear these stories from the past and see them also in stories of the present. Certainly we should learn to avoid what we see in these stories. But what about the teacher of the law, the rich young man, the man fighting over money? Did they only get one chance and that was it, or did Jesus keep walking with them and challenging them.

Luke’s Gospel teaches that conversion is a lifelong gift. All through our lives Jesus calls, even though we resist him, even though we fail. At the end of St. Luke’s story of the passion, Jesus’ last words are to a thief who failed. He calls him again, “Today, you will be with me in Paradise.”