Homily – 22nd Sunday in Ordinary Time

(The following is from Pastor Dick Dahl)

Today we have readings from two books of the Bible we don’t usually hear from: Deuteronomy, one of the first five books of the Old Testament which the Jewish people call the Torah, the Law. The other is the letter of James, who was “known as “a brother of the Lord”, and became a leader in the earliest Christian community in Jerusalem before being put to death in 62 AD.

In the first reading Moses teaches Israel the statutes and decrees which God was giving them to observe. He noted that people of other nations would marvel at the good fortune of the Israelites to have a God so close that they could call upon him and to have statutes and decrees that were as just as the law being taught to them that day.

James, in turn, notes that every worthwhile gift and genuine benefit comes from God the Father….” If James had lived in a less patriarchal society, this would have been a good place for him to say, “from God the Mother” when he then speaks of God “who wishes to bring us to birth with a word spoken in truth.” He goes on to say, “Welcome this word that has taken root in you and has the power to save you. But don’t just listen to it. You must act on it.” How? Among other things, by looking after orphans and widows in their distress, in other words, the poor, the needy, the helpless.

Finally, in the reading from Mark’s Gospel, Jesus harshly criticizes the Scribes and Pharisees who took offense over his followers who had eaten without first washing their hands. Jesus said these religious leaders put more importance on their own dogmas about external observances than what is really God’s commandment, namely actions based on love, worship that comes from the heart.

When we see such a stark contrast between external observance and inner love of the heart laid before us so clearly, it’s easy to recognize which is more important. The Franciscan Father Richard Rohr says the ego prefers to be part of a moral achievement test in which we feel in control, versus surrendering to the “word spoken in  truth” that James wrote about–the word that has the power to save us, namely that we are surrounded and immersed in God’s presence and unearned love.

I am reminded of a reference I made in a homily here a year and a half ago when I learned of the death of a friend and fellow Paulist Jerry Travers. In 1968 Jerry was interviewed as a young priest at the Church of the Good Shepherd in New York city. In this very Irish parish 20,000 parishoners filled nine Masses in the church and five more in the auditorium every Sunday. Yet in the interview Father Jerry said, “We can have our throats blessed 87 times, carry home wheelbarrows of palms, and get ashes 15 times. This doesn’t mean anything if we don’t follow the Gospel, the message of Christ loving our neighbors.

At that time in the 1960s Jerry confronted the animosity of parishoners who feared losing their homes and their jobs, as Puerto Ricans and Negroes (which was the acceptable designation at that time) started moving into their neighborhood. The devout Catholics of the parish were at home with their Rosary beads and novenas, but not with their neighbors of a different race and culture.

We can be blinded by following the law and engaging in religious practices but then failing to recognize and love Christ in those around us. This is especially true when they look different, act out of different cultural patterns, and speak differently from us. This is true when their entrance into our neighborhood, city or country strains social services, costs us more in taxes, threatens to take jobs, or just makes us feel uncomfortable.

There is nothing wrong with our religious practices, nor with the observances practiced by the Jews of Jesus’ time, except when they seem to be more important than loving God and Christ in those around us. As James taught us today in the second reading, God our Mother wishes to bring us to birth with the word spoken in truth, namely all that God has revealed to the human race. This word has taken root in us and has the power to save us. James says, it is not enough to believe this, we must also act on it. As Mother Teresa said, “We cannot all do great things, but we can do small things with great love.”

Homily – 21st Sunday in Ordinary Time

(The following is from Pastor Dick Dahl)

Pastor Kathy prepared us for today’s liturgy with the following message:

“This week’s liturgy calls us to reflect on who it is we say we believe in—something people have struggled through time to come to terms with. Joshua says simply—’I believe in Yahweh.’ Paul, in his letter to the Ephesians calls us to action in our belief—we must love others as we do ourselves. Jesus asks his followers this week, ‘Am I a stumbling block to you?’  The psalmist cries out his/her belief that ‘Our God hears the cry of the poor’ and Peter answers with the resolution that we all most often come to, ‘Who are we to turn to?’”

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What stood out for me in today’s readings was Jesus’ question to the twelve men he had called and spent so much time with: “Are you going to leave me, too?

Many of his disciples had remarked, “We cannot put up with this kind of talk! How can anyone take it seriously?” The Temple authorities had argued, “How can he give us his flesh to eat?”

They did not understand the meaning behind Jesus’ words. Did they really think he was saying they were to participate in cannibalism? How much confusion and distortion has resulted from people misunderstanding Jesus’ words and the Scriptures! How much alienation from God has come from the literal understanding of teachings that had deeper symbolic meanings!

But the bottom line is, “Are you going to leave me, too?”  But like Joshua in the first reading, Jesus was saying, “Make a decision. Are you with me or not?”Joshua asked a similar question of the tribes of Israel and their leaders, “Make the decision today whom you will worship.”

Assumption of Mary

(The following homily is from Pastor Dick Dahl)

I was recently asked by two friends of mine to help plan the funeral/memorial service for their mother. We arranged to meet and they talked for  over an hour about their mother, what was important to her, her accomplishments and setbacks, and the experiences and relationships they had with her. It was like looking through a memory scrapbook of what they remembered and  now viewed as important. Of course, so much was missing. What would their mother have added if she were in the conversation?

We don’t have a day on which to commemorate the death of Mary, the Mother of Jesus. Her son died. I assume she did also. What we have instead is this day to celebrate her transition, her transformation, her full participation in the resurrection of her Son. But just as his Resurrection would lack meaning without the life and death that preceded it, so would Mary’s.

So, like my session with my friends who described their mother’s life, we might reflect on the scattered images, incomplete as they are, we have of Mary’s life. What image comes to your mind when you think of Mary, the mother of Jesus? Here are just ten I’ve gathered from the Gospels of Matthew, Luke, and the Acts of the Apostles:

*A confused, pregnant teenager…with courage to believe and accept that her condition was God’s will

*A young woman in late-stage pregnancy having to travel to Jerusalem to fulfill the required Roman census

*A new mother giving birth in a barn shared with animals

*A frightened parent fleeing into Egypt due to alarming threats to her baby

*Again a frightened parent, twelve years later, having completed the annual Passover in Jerusalem and traveled for full a day toward home in Nazareth, to finding him missing

*A relieved but confused mother, after three days of searching, finding him teaching elders in the temple

*Having him, in his 30s, begin preaching in his home town of Nazareth and elsewhere to mixed reactions–some enthusiastic, some hostile.

*Frightened to learn he had been arrested, imprisoned and then condemned to die by the horrors of crucifixion

*Standing at Golgotha and seeing him die in agony while he struggled to put her under the care of his disciple John

*After his death, gathered in the Upper Room with his followers, praying fervently…where after three days he suddenly appeared to them.

Who can identify with her? Pregnant young women who feel alone and scared can. Women who must travel and give birth to their babies in terrible circumstances can. Parents fleeing persecution and seeking refuge in other countries can. Parents of a lost child can.  Parents of an incarcerated son or daughter can. Parents of an executed son can.

The celebration today has its roots in all these experiences of Mary’s life. The mystery of her assumption opens a perspective beyond anything we have experienced. It is linked with the Gospel reading of this Sunday, the 20th in Ordinary Time, in which Jesus says, “The truth of the matter is…Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood have eternal life, and I will raise them up on the last day. For my flesh is real food and my blood is real drink. Everyone who eats my flesh and drinks my blood lives in me and I live in them….So those who feed on me will have life because of me.”

Today’s celebration is about life. It’s about death. It’s about ongoing, transformed life.

Those who seek to know and love Jesus often experience a bond with his mother. Many of us experience her as our mother. We rely on the conviction that Mary can help us be the followers of her Son that we want to be.

Despite all we don’t know or understand about Mary’s Assumption, we have her example and intercession as we seek to  surrender ourselves daily with a total “Yes, Thy will be done.” We too are called to be temples of the Holy Spirit of God. As baffling and unlikely as this seems, how do we respond? Mother Mary, help us to respond as you did.

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Homily – 19th Sunday in Ordinary Time

(The following is from Pastor Dick Dahl)

Pastor Kathy introduced us to today’s liturgy in an e-mail this week with some of the following words:

“We Catholics have long called ourselves a Eucharistic people and rightly so because this is what Jesus always taught us to be. Simply put, this means that we are to share ourselves with others—in effect, be the “bread” that feeds not only physically, but emotionally and spiritually.  The readings for the last several weekends, as well as this one, deal with how we often get caught up in our physical needs and desires rather than seeing the bigger picture….as Paul teaches in the second reading this week….”

I suggest the following further thoughts about today’s Liturgy:

Pope Francis has said he wants the Catholic Church to make a lasting difference in people’s lives. He has repeatedly said he wants the Church to be a hospital on a battlefield, taking in all who were wounded, regardless of which side they fought on. Can we find a connection between this image and today’s readings?

The Church has counterposed the reading from First Kings with that from John’s Gospel. The first reading describes Elijah become weak from fear and exhaustion after he had fled into the desert. He was at the point of despair. Then he was given bread and drink that enabled him to continue for forty days and nights until he reached the mountain of God.

The desert is a symbol of our journey through life, often one of struggle. Forty is a symbol of an undetermined length of time, just as each of our lives is of an undetermined length of time. Can we relate to Elijah even though the time and circumstances in which we live are very different?

Then we hear the reading from John’s Gospel. Jesus tells those who were questioning his authority, “I am the living bread come down from heaven. If any eat this bread they will live forever. The bread I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.”

We know that John’s Gospel reflects a deeper theological development than the earlier three Synoptic Gospels.  It was written thirty years or so after them  during the last decade of the first century AD (or Common Era). More time had gone by for the Christian community to better understand what Jesus’ actions and words meant.

He said his body and blood, surrendered for our life, were bread. When we eat this bread, we are strengthened, like Elijah in the desert, for the journey we are on in our lives. Like Elijah, at times we fear, become anxious, grow weary. We may even want to give up. We need the healing of a spiritual hospital…like the one Pope Francis compares the Church to. Even when we feel alone and unsure about going on, the Church is the means by which Jesus offers himself to us, the Bread of life to revive and strengthen us.

In the second reading Paul says that, just as Jesus loved us by offering himself in sacrifice for us, we are called to walk in love. He says, “Try…try to imitate God…as beloved children.” He seems to compare the Holy Spirit to a mother upset by the quarreling of her children when he says, “Do not grieve the Holy Spirit with whom you were sealed.” “Get rid of all bitterness, all rage and anger, all harsh words, slander, and malice of every kind. In place of these, be kind to one another, compassionate, and mutually forgiving….”

We struggle with conflicts…with those we love, and with those we don’t like or perhaps even know. The first Christians had the same struggles or Paul would have had no reason to write to them as he did. We, like they, are sealed with the Spirit of the Father and Son. Jesus offers us himself, the Bread of everlasting life, for our journey.

One of my friends in the Unitarian-Universalist Fellowship shared with me his view that Catholics are lucky to have the Eucharist, this powerful sacramental meal that unites and nourishes us. How right he is!

Homily – 18th Sunday in Ordinary Time

(The following homily is from Pastor Dick Dahl)

I suggest that today’s readings call us to examine what we value and change as necessary.

First we’re given the example of the Hebrew people freed from hundreds of years of slavery in Egypt. Despite their miraculous liberation, they found themselves wandering in the Sinai desert without adequate food and water. They began to think they had been better off in captivity.  But Yahweh God,  had not abandoned or forgotten them. Food came in the form of quail at night and a bread-like manna in the morning. Their attitude and values were tested. They needed to remember their God, our God, is the source of life and what we most need.

Examine what we value and change as necessary.

The opening prayer today said, “Creator God, gifts without measure flow from your goodness…to bring us your peace. Our life is your gift. Guide our life’s journey, for only your love makes us whole.”

In the second reading Paul says our minds must be “renewed.” He says our minds  need to undergo “a spiritual revolution.” He speaks of putting aside a former way of living and no longer being led by “illusory desires.”

The response after this reading was, “One does not live by bread alone but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.”

Jesus had taught us to ask Abba God for “our daily bread.” Today, however,  he told the crowds and us, “You should not be working for perishable food, but for life-giving food that lasts for all eternity.”

I think of the years I spent worrying about being able to provide food, housing and necessities for my wife and children. Most of the seven billion people alive today are preoccupied with the pursuit of survival.

Jesus knows we need food to survive. That’s why his Father provided manna for the Israelites in the desert. It’s why Jesus fed the thousands who had listened to him for hours by the lake. But, without contradicting his words about feeding the hungry and giving drink to the thirsty, he is saying that our minds and hearts must not be confined to our material needs, as vital as they are.

A friend of mine reflected recently on how Pope Francis’s Laudato Si encyclical places environmental issues within a larger human “ecology.”  This friend thinks Francis’ contribution “is the notion that the environmental crisis is a symptom of deeper problems within our culture and our souls, namely that our culture has become one of ‘having’ rather than ‘being.’”

Francis, like Jesus, is telling us that consumption and accumulation is not what life is truly about. Bigger homes, even super-sized servings of food may increase the bottom line and expand our waists but not satisfy our spirit. We recall the words of  Mohandas Gandhi: “Live simply, that others may simply live.”

So, we are invited to examine our values and change them as necessary.  But today’s liturgy also invites us to expand our awareness of the gifts we receive from our God who loves us. Along this line I‘d like to share some words I read this week from David Brooks, an editorial writer for the New York Times:

“Gratitude happens when some kindness exceeds expectations, when it is undeserved. Gratitude is a sort of laughter of the heart that comes about after some surprising kindness.  Most people feel grateful some of the time…but some people seem…seem thankful practically all of the time. People with dispositional gratitude take nothing for granted. They are continually struck by the fact that they are…much richer than they deserve. G.K. Chesterton wrote that ‘thanks are the highest form of thought, and that gratitude is happiness doubled by wonder.’”

Part of the mental revolution we are invited to experience today is gratitude doubled by wonder…especially as our Mother/Father God feeds us Bread from heaven, Jesus the bread of life.