My friends, as we returned this past week from our Witness for Peace delegation to Cuba, and reoriented ourselves to life in the United States, many thoughts, and ideas about how to help the Cuban people, many of whom we really grew to love while there, have been swirling around in our heads and have been laying heavily on our hearts as well.  And into this mix, falls Holy Week, the holiest week in our Church Year.  In looking over my reflections for Palm Sunday and the “holy days” of the upcoming week, from three years ago, I find that what the Spirit gave then, I couldn’t really improve on, so I will start there today and update as I go. 

   Now, I could give you some exegesis around the meaning of the readings today as we begin this holiest of weeks and probably, some thoughts will make their way into this homily; but I thought what might be a more meaningful way to go, would be to concentrate on what “this triumphal entry into Jerusalem” meant, ultimately, to our brother Jesus.

   This final journey to Jerusalem was the culmination of his relatively short life on this earth. We can only imagine the emotion he was experiencing! If he had been a musician; we might say that this action was his grand opus—the high point of all that his combined humanity and divinity had allowed and challenged him to proclaim. 

   All the prophets, especially the later ones such as, Isaiah, Jeremiah and Ezekiel spoke eloquently about who Jesus, as the Messiah would be—one with humanity—with us, suffering all that we would suffer, and we might add—experiencing so much of the good that this life can bring through interactions with others, through caring and giving of himself for the least among us. 

   Our trip to Cuba was definitely about this; (caring for the least among us) or at least will be as we attempt in the days and weeks ahead, to speak to the needs of the Cuban people who are suffering so much due to our (the United States’) blockade of this tiny country in relationship to the size of our country, which in fact, is 28 times the size of Cuba.  Our Witness for Peace delegation was probably, for the most part, of the mindset that our 60+ year blockade of Cuba is more about “revenge” than anything else.  I will share more on this as time goes by. 

   Jesus spoke his truth to the powers present in his time, about justice for all, as we must do in our time. And we know from Isaiah’s words today in the first reading that what Jesus had to say would not be accepted by all—and that there were those who wished to silence him. 

    Within the time frame of a week, this triumphal entry into the holy city of Jerusalem would end in seeming failure with his death in one of the most horrible ways that death can come to an individual.  We are told by Scripture scholar, Diane Bergant, that Paul’s beautiful hymn of praise to the Philippians seems the best way for us to understand Jesus’ passion, death, and resurrection—while he does not minimize it; he also doesn’t spend undo time depicting it.  Rather, Paul really explains the suffering to us and tells us what it means—his state was divine, yet he did not cling to it, but humbled himself, becoming as all humans are.  

   Our time in Cuba called each of us to truly see life through the eyes of the Cuban people—to come to understand what their day-to-day life is because of our country’s unfair blockade of them.  Many of us have probably, in the past, heard the term, “embargo” used with regard to our policies toward Cuba, which we came to realize doesn’t adequately describe our actions toward them. 

   The word, “embargo” seems to suggest one country refusing to trade with another due to disagreement in politics, etc., but our actions toward Cuba, we learned, are better described as a total blockade of this country, because not only do we refuse to trade with them, but we are willing to punish any and all other countries who attempt to trade with Cuba by not trading then with them for six months. 

   This blockade hurts not only Cubans (the least among us) but ourselves and many, many others throughout our world. It would behoove all of us in this country to pick up a good history of Cuba if we are interested in knowing the true story, something we in this country have not been given over the years.  Such a book is one by Ada Ferrer. 

   A recent vote at the UN against the blockade of Cuba was 184-2, with only our country and Israel not in agreement to end it.  We are clearly on the wrong side of this issue. 

   Looking back then to our brother Jesus, within a week, his beloved apostles and friends would all, save a few—John, Mary of Magdala, his mother and some faithful women, leave him in fear.  Two would betray him—one would seek forgiveness, the other not, as he had missed the message that his friend, Jesus had spoken so many times before—that there is nothing we could ever do that would separate us from the love of God. 

   Scriptures tell us that our brother Jesus wept over Jerusalem for how they had so misunderstood his coming among them—they wanted a king—and he came as a servant.  They let their humanity, their lust for power and control get in the way of his message of love and care for all.  Even his closest friends—apostles who spent three years with him, hearing day after day the purpose for his coming—to basically show them, all of us, the best ways to live and to love, didn’t get it!  Jesus was always about, “leading with the heart,” not the head, and those in the society he graced with his presence who were women, the poor, the ill and downtrodden got his message—not about power over, but about humility—power with and for others.

   I reflect on Jesus’ “weeping over Jerusalem” just as several of us, in our delegation to Cuba wept over the injustices done to the Cuban people over the years, that were definitely about, “power over” rather than, “power with and for.”   

   His sadness, his sense of failure with so many whom he loved so much would engulf him for a time in his agony in the garden in the space of a week. His agony would call him to cry out to his Abba God, “Why have you forsaken me? —a prayer that comes to each of us at times, as we struggle against the powers-that-be, attempting to be our best selves. 

 But before that; he would spend his last days teaching in the temple, endeavoring to get the message across one last time that “what we do to others, we do to him.”  We can’t say that we love God and refuse to love our neighbor—he minces no words—it’s as simple as that!

    The more my friends that we can let these days come alive for us, the more his words will become real and guide our daily actions going forward.  A significant ritual for many of us Catholic-Christians over the years has been, “The Stations of the Cross,”  a reflection upon the steps of Jesus on the way to Calvary—a reverent reflection in itself, but probably since the Second Vatican Council, moving forward, many writers have put together modern day “Stations of the Cross”  being cognizant of the fact that Jesus’ suffering continues yet today in our sisters and brothers who live on the margins of our society.  There is such a service being held from 12:00-1:00 on Good Friday at Windom Park should anyone wish to attend.

   We won’t be meeting on Holy Thursday, but it would behoove us to remember the gift of love that this night depicts.  Jesus, knowing all that was before him, spent his last night before his death showing his closest friends, his mother and the other women, no doubt, even though the Scriptures don’t mention their presence, of how he wanted them to live going forward, once he was no longer physically with them.  They should serve each other, beautifully displayed in the washing of the feet. Whenever and wherever they gathered; they should know and believe that he was with them in the breaking of the bread.  And finally, his greatest prayer was that all people should be one, just as he was one with Abba God.  This is why our parish is named, All Are One—our statement to ourselves, our city and all others that everyone is welcome here, no exceptions!  Jesus’ priestly prayer was all about loving God and loving our neighbors as ourselves—that’s it, that’s the message!

   We will gather here on Good Friday afternoon in a simple and holy remembrance of a day, more than any other that speaks to the steadfastness of our God’s love for us.  Jesus died a human death the way he had lived his human life—completely and wholeheartedly—always keeping in mind, especially at the end, the all-encompassing love of his Abba for him.  Being human, he doubted and cried out in the agony, in the suffering, but on some level; he knew that life would follow the death and he did it all for us so that we could be steadfast in hope of new life too!

   And then on Saturday afternoon, with the Easter Vigil; we will begin our alleluias in that hope.  Amen? Amen!

My friends, I am struck as I look over the readings for this week of how they lay out well what each of us needs to know in attempting to live as a Christian—a follower of our brother, Jesus.  Additionally, this week’s readings seem to clear up some false teachings that many of us probably grew up believing, and this is true from the Old Testament in the selection from Exodus and on through the New Testament gospel from Luke and Paul’s letter to First Corinthians.  The Psalm selection is the only exception. Let’s take a look.

   Today’s psalm, 103 lets us know that our God, “is kind and merciful.”  With that in mind, we can reflect back on God’s words to Moses from the burning bush—”I have witnessed the affliction of my people in Egypt.”  And this God who is “kind and merciful,” calls on Moses to help and basically says, I will be with you—you won’t need to do this alone.  Moses answers in the way that is needed at this time— “Here I am.” 

   And so that Moses realizes that this is a serious, sacred request, God says, “Where you are standing is holy ground.”  Now, upon first reading these words, we think of the surface meaning—yes, God is here, thus the ground is holy. 

   But looking at this, “burning bush” moment, can’t simply be done in a surface way. Moses’ God chose to involve him in a venture that simply put, was “all about love,” because God had heard the peoples’ cries, and Moses is being asked to be God’s envoy to a stiff-necked Pharoah, holding Moses’ people, who also belonged to God, against their will. 

   Now, if Moses has truly gotten the picture, either at this point, or at some time in the future, he will realize that the “holy ground” is not only the physical ground where God seems to be but is ground upon which the Israelites in Egypt stand and the ground upon which we all stand!  Each of us is “the stuff” of heaven and of God, here, having a human experience.

   Now Moses, like most of us is concerned about the surface things—who he should tell the Pharoah it is, has sent him.  And it is almost as if God is teasing him—say, “I AM” has sent you. And to this day, exegetes still quibble over whether God meant, “I AM who I am” or “I AM who I will be.”  Now this probably made no more sense to Moses that it does to us, unless we simply conclude that God is not Some One or Some Entity that can be explained to our satisfaction, so let’s perhaps look at the “why” this encounter is taking place, rather than “who” has come to Moses in this “burning bush” moment. 

   If we recall once again the psalmist’s words, “Our God is kind and merciful,” –one who has heard the peoples’ cries; then the “why” is really more important than getting stuck on what name we should give this caring God. We see additionally that God comes to Moses as God comes to each of us—there is a need in our world and God asks, “Who can I send—who will go for us?”  Hopefully, each of us can see at times, the “holy ground” and the people standing upon it, and do our part, saying, “I will go.” 

   Paul in his letter to the Corinthians seems to struggle a bit too with describing the full picture of what is going on with the Israelites and their freeing from Egypt. He gives us an image of a somewhat “frightening God” and that we better, “watch out” lest we fall, like some of the Israelites did.  Perhaps because Paul never knew Jesus, our brother, in his earthly life, he either wasn’t aware of, or had forgotten Jesus’ teachings from the gospel selection in Luke today.

   Jesus is teaching against the notion that God causes “bad things” to happen to us because we have done “bad things.” Through the lovely story of the fig tree that bears no fruit and the owner who is willing to cut it down in punishment, we instead see the love of our God, through the vinedresser who says, “Let’s give it another chance.”  Rather than God causing a bad result, it is probably more true to say that when we make bad choices, the result is a bad outcome. 

   My friends, as the story of the fig tree seems to indicate, Jesus our brother and our God is strongly encouraging us to change our ways if our end results aren’t what we had hoped for.  Unfortunately, that old theology that wrongly taught us that the only purpose for Jesus’ coming among us was to save us from our sins, didn’t allow us to see the goodness of our God who would again and again give us chances to change and become our best selves.

   A sister of St. Joseph and a Scottish scholar, Sister Mary Beth Ingham, put it this way: “The Incarnation was not plan B (because something went wrong in the garden)—it was always plan A.”  My friends, God in Jesus became one of us out of love, to show us in no uncertain terms—how to live and how to love, and so perhaps we could say, in that case, Jesus did, “save us,” but from ourselves.

   God looks on each of us with love—we are “holy ground” as a result, and so are all others, and this same God then, asks us to love in return—first God and then, others. Meister Eckhart, a 13^th Century German theologian says it like this, “The eyes with which you will look back at God will be the same eyes with which God first looked at you.”  You might want to think about that a bit, but to me, that is why it is so important that the Eucharist that we celebrate each week here, and partake in, doesn’t stop here.  Or, as we say in faith, “This is Jesus, the Bread of Life, how blessed are we [to receive it] and become the Bread of Life for the world.” 

   My friends, my challenge to each of you and to myself is to always strive to see beyond the words on the page as we read the Scriptures—I am quite sure our God wants us to go deeper so that more “burning bush” moments happen, that is, when we can see God, “in our midst.”  When we can all work toward creating a world where all are seen for their basic goodness, instead of in racist, sexist and all other diminishing ways, we will be able to truly say that we are “standing on holy ground.” Amen? Amen!

My friends, we are journeying through Lent and are at the 2^nd Sunday—the 2^nd week of 6 given us by our Church to come to know our brother Jesus better and then go out, after learning what he did and how he did it in his world and do the same in ours!

   The Scriptures given us this Sunday speak of a history of a merciful God from Genesis in the Old Testament to Luke and Paul in the New Testament. Let’s look a bit at what our God says first to the man, Abram and his wife, Sarai: “Just as the stars of the heavens, so will your descendants be.”  In other words—many, many, even, uncountable descendants! 

   The reading from Genesis lays out for us a covenant made between this merciful God and the man Abram, who will later be known as Abraham and his wife as Sarah, to signify the promise made between this couple and their God, a promise based on “trust” between the two—God would be their God and they would be God’s people. 

   That is really all we need to remember about this passage—the halving of animals is not something we understand, but Abraham and Sarah and their people did—basically a covenant with God must not be broken, cut in half, as it were. 

   The psalmist today continues the thought of how our merciful God will watch over the people and that includes us: “You are my light and my salvation, of whom should I be afraid?” 

   In the letter to the Philippians, we see our brother Paul instructing the people, “to stand firm in Christ Jesus.”  It is good to recall that Paul never personally knew the man, Jesus, but only the Risen Christ. We can only imagine the power of this encounter that knocked him from his horse, turning his life around, from one who fought to bring Jesus’ followers down, to one who gave the rest of his life to bringing people to Jesus, the Christ.  Paul tells the Philippians that he wants them, “to stand firm in Christ Jesus,” because, “he so loves” them. 

   Lately, I have been spending time reviewing the Enneagram, the psychological tool that many have written and taught about to basically show us how to become our best selves.  As many of you are aware, this tool consists of 9 personality types and the “trick” is to discover the one number that best describes how each of us engages our world.  In the early years of our lives and into adulthood, we tend to use the traits that make us most comfortable in dealing with our world. 

   The Enneagram can at first and even second glance, and more, appear to be very complicated, but upon further study, we come to see that each of us faces our world with the ability to be, affective (emotional)—theoretical (thinking) and effective (doing) in our approach.  More simply put, we each come complete with emotions—thought processes—and the ability to make change, to accomplish things in our world. 

   The piece or pieces that get in the way of us becoming our best selves is that each of us faces our world with a preferred way to be—one of the 9 numbers.  For example, each time I work with the Enneagram, I come up as a #2, or “Helper”-type.  Becoming our best selves will require that we learn to use all the talents in our own personal “toolboxes” as we work and “be” in our world. 

   When a person learns over time to act in our world, not only out of our comfort zone, (for me as a 2-Helper—my comfort zone is in reaching out to my world and helping as I can) but to add the other ways— “thought” and “doing” to round out the approach.  So, why am I sharing all this?

   When we strive to be our best selves, using more of the ways to “work in our world” so as to be more effective, the Enneagram describes that as a “swan,” a beautiful bird, “finding their wings and learning to fly.”  I submit that this is what happened to Paul once he realized that to be truly “effective” in his world, he needed to “get out of his head, (theoretical) and begin to understand that he also needed to face his world “with care,” (affective) in order that his life could be all that God meant it to be. 

   There are many approaches to working with the Enneagram, psychological, and spiritual, and as you might guess, I have most often tuned into the spiritual aspects of the tool, as that is how I tend to work and “be” in the world.  As Paul says to the Philippians in today’s 2^nd reading— “we have our citizenship in heaven,” and can’t be overly concerned about the attractions of the flesh.  What I have found works best for me is to look for “balance” in my one, wonderful life that began in a spiritual way and has taken on a human component here.

   So friends, that brings us to the lovely gospel of the Transfiguration of Jesus in Luke.  I love Peter’s line in this gospel, “Rabbi, how good it is for us to be here [!]” His response follows the appearance of Moses, representing the law, and Elijah, representing the prophets with Jesus in the middle, which to my mind speaks to the balance that our human brother asks of himself in his human life, and asks of us as well, in ours—know the law, but act with truth and love in our actions. 

   Exegetes aren’t too flattering of Peter’s response, basically saying that he didn’t understand what he was saying.  I would disagree.  This apparition that he, James and John were given gave them proof to base their faith upon that no doubt, in addition, gave them the strength to carry into the future, all the mysteries and wonders that they were privy to in their lives with Jesus of Nazareth, Jesus, the Christ. 

   This past year for Christmas, Saint Nicholas/Santa, gave Robert and I several new, compelling books on our present times and one which came more so, as a Three Kings’ gift, is the very poignant story, Unthinkable by Jamie Raskin, who you will remember was the lead manager for the second impeachment trial of Donald Trump. Even though he deals with the trauma of the January 6, 2021, Insurrection at our nation’s Capitol, he clearly states that this is not a book about Trump.  One week before the Insurrection, Raskin’s only son, Tommy, became a victim of suicide. 

   What this book deals with then is the personal trauma to him and his wife Sarah, and their family and friends over losing their very accomplished, likeable, concerned, 25-year-old son and brother, juxtaposed with the trauma to our country in the “unthinkable” events that took place on January 6, 2021.

   Many people asked Raskin how he could deal with these two traumas at the same time, and he said, looking back on accepting Nancy Pelosi’s request that he lead the case against the former president, he realized that she had offered him a lifeline—that to begin to engage in a noble cause once again was the best way to honor his lost son—one who had spent much of his short life advocating for those with less than the simple goods of this world. 

   Several times throughout this book, Raskin, with a 20-year long career teaching young lawyers, constitutional law, before being elected to Congress, quoted one of his favorite people from the early days of our country, Thomas Paine.  Paine was known to have said, “The times have found us.” 

   My friends, as we contemplate the Scriptures today and this new season of Lent, we might say the same—“the times have found us,” at a place where our world is crying out with such need: wars begun by bullies, for no apparent cause, other than greed, causing millions to leave their homes, our own country that through the rhetoric of some in Congress and in our everyday world, seem to have lost their way.  When one’s personal freedom, to not be told what to do is more important than the welfare of the many, “the time” to look again at who we are, and what we have become, seems to have “found us.”

   And whether we choose to become more of our best selves as our brother Jesus calls us to through the Enneagram or any other way is not as important as that we simply look for balance in our lives, with a focus not only on ourselves, but on others—treating them as we would want to be treated.  If we can come to Easter realizing that we are finding more of that balance in our lives (for ourselves and others), I think we can say that “the times have found us,” and that we have responded as Jesus did in his life.  Amen? Amen!

   Lent is upon us again my friends.  We may come to this season with some “baggage,” of not so fond memories of long fasts and long church services to go to, feelings of guilt perhaps about not being good enough and part of the reason that Jesus needed to come and die on the cross.

   If any of this sounds true for you, then I would like to invite us all to come to this season with some fresh ideas and see perhaps, these 40 days as a gift given by our Church to help us “open up” and grow closer to our God who loves us beyond all imagining, and came not because of our sinfulness, but for love of us so as to show us ways to live better, our one wonderful life—each of us. 

   Just as Jesus found it necessary before beginning his public life to go apart and prepare for the challenges he would face; we too need such times to do the same.  He knew that the challenges would be many—to speak truth to power, to let all his sisters and brothers—all of us, that is, know not only how much we are in fact loved, but to address those “lording” their power and position over the less fortunate to change their ways, to call all of us to be our best selves for ourselves and for others. 

    Today, we have the opportunity to receive ashes on our foreheads, which we will do after the homily today.  Receiving ashes is a simple, but very telling reminder of our vulnerability and impermanence in this life. The gift of a human existence is temporary, in other words, and our life in Christ is always calling us to that reality and challenging us to be our best for whatever time we have.

    In truth probably, none of us relishes thinking along these lines—I know I don’t, and I don’t think Jesus did either, in his humanity, and this was part of his agony in the garden I believe, knowing that his time in this life would end.

    Lent calls us then to struggle with these questions of impermanence, of justice for all—sharing the goods of this world, extending mercy as Paul writes of our God to the Romans in today’s 2^nd reading: “Here there is no difference between Jew and Greek, all have the same Creator, rich in mercy toward all who call.”

   The first reading from Deuteronomy is a testament of gratitude for all that our God has done.  Lent can be a time when we become more grateful for the gifts in our lives that we regularly take for granted—gifts that in the impermanence of our lives could be gone tomorrow. Again, that was one of the unforeseen gifts that Michael gave us in his unexpected death—to treasure each day and make it one that we can look back on and see that we were able to do something good for someone, even if that “someone” was ourselves.

   In working with each of you through my ministry here and in the greater community of our outreach, I meet and work with many, very good people who are so generous with their time, talent, and treasure.  And within the generosity we shower upon others who we know have less than us; we must try and remember to share a bit with ourselves, because an “empty cup” can’t continue to give.  It’s a balance my friends.

   A positive thing that we might do this Lent is to spend some time, “in the basement of our hearts,” as someone once said, with our brother Jesus and discover how we truly look at ourselves.  Can it be said that we love ourselves, treasure our existence, are grateful for each day?  We can only face our world and all its needs, and do a good job of it, if we start from a place of love.  Maybe we will discover, “in the basement of our hearts” that there is an old wound to our spirit that needs healing.  Maybe we need to forgive ourselves for the times we have been less than Jesus asks of us.  Whatever we may find there, perhaps we can come to terms with it and move on to a healthier place, beginning to love ourselves again as God always has.

   My friends, for those of us who come out of many years’ experiences in the past of fasting, abstinence and other “penances” that signify, Lent, much of this is quite a task to take on; and end up, still appreciating a time like Lent.  Usually, it comes in the Church Year, at least in our climate, in the dead of winter and it might make us feel dull, but through the 40 days, we begin to glimpse spring, when new life begins to burst forth.  This new life not only shows itself in material ways around us, but there is every chance that this new life will be seen in us as well if we have allowed ourselves to open up to the larger world around us—the world that so desperately needs true followers of our brother, Jesus.

   The prophet Isaiah, in one of the Mass readings of this past week challenges us to be about the “fast” that our God truly wants—the “fast” that calls us to care for the least among us.  With this in mind, I share some commentary that I heard on public radio this past week. 

   The guest in the time slot I was listening to brought up the great suffering of the Ukrainian people at present in Putin’s war.  He rightly acknowledged their suffering, but went on to say that, in his experience, when the same kind of suffering-killing-injury, and destruction happens in countries of black and brown-skinned people, the same animosity and disgust against the perpetrators with a willingness to do something doesn’t seem to be present. 

   And being that this was a radio commentary, I wasn’t able to see this brother’s skin color, but from his next comment, I knew he was dark-skinned.  He was addressing the inherent, often unnoticed racism in several newscasters who were reporting on the people fleeing Ukrainian cities.  One of the reporters said, “These people look just like us (white skin) and many are Christian.” 

   Now to a white person and a Christian, this may have sounded fine and brought forth emotion and solidarity, but if you were a dark-skinned Muslim, you can imagine the reaction to this statement that does not match the lack of concern they likewise felt in their own times of trouble. 

   It shocked me when I heard this and had to wonder if I too have, in the past, sounded “racist” in comments I have made.  Of the many books that have been written in the past few years on racism, the authors seem to agree that racism is in our very DNA.  The same can likewise be said of “sexism.”  I know that I want to talk this over with my brother, Jesus, in the “basement of my heart” this Lent. 

   So, it would seem that a different kind of “fast” is before us to consider this Lent—one that can truly purge, not just our physical bodies, but our spiritual and emotional selves too—of racism and sexism—flaws that we perhaps aren’t even aware of.  This is not to say that physical fasting and abstinence aren’t good because many times such practices give us the strength to move on to the much harder issues—uncover them to the light of day and do something to change our behaviors.  Unfortunately, I think, many times we don’t extend the “fasting” beyond the physical. 

   Interesting that our country and its airwaves yearly sponsor, Black History Month in February, and a month to women in March.  On the face of it, we might say, this is good! But looking deeper, we might say, why is there a need to do either if we believe as Paul said in today’s second reading, “There is neither Jew nor Greek, all have the same Creator.” 

   Looking then to today’s gospel from Luke, I found it interesting that to all of the devil’s temptations, Jesus turns to the Scriptures to make his response.  Perhaps if each of us did the same more often—turn to the Scriptures for guidance in the ways to go, or as I always say to us, “Follow in Jesus’ footsteps, we would have a better track record trying to become our best selves.

   I find great comfort in today’s Psalm 91 response and especially in those times when I’m not clear on the way to go— “Be with me God, when I am in trouble…” 

   So my friends, as we begin once again, this really beautiful time of Lent—a gift, if we can see it as such, to come to know that One better that we profess to follow, then, I believe we can come through these 40 days more open, more loving, more willing to be all that we can be for ourselves and for others.   Amen? Amen!

Friends, this is the last Sunday in Ordinary Time for a while as we move into the holy season of Lent with Ash Wednesday this next week.  The ashes are a sign of our vulnerability in this life and point the way to a new and different life one day with God. I say, “a new and different life” because our God is with us, every day, closer to us than we are to ourselves, it has been said; but this will be different! In fact, we are told that we can’t even imagine what God has prepared for us! These thoughts are no doubt close to us this week as we reflect on Michael Maher’s passing and the fragility of life. We will talk of this more as we move into Lent, but for now, let’s look at the messages of this week.

   Our day in and day out life with our God as followers of our brother, Jesus, can be said quite well, I think in Paul’s challenge to the Corinthians today: [Be] “fully engaged in the work of Jesus.” 

   We might ask then—just what does this “work” entail? As you know; I am fond of saying, “It’s all about love!”  In any situation, we must apply the law of love, especially when we aren’t sure of the way to go in a particular situation that we are confronted with.  If we can answer that, love is being served, that we are doing the most loving thing in what we are choosing to do, that the needs of others and not just those of myself will be addressed, then we can be quite sure that we are more “fully engaged in the work of Jesus” as Paul says. 

   And more specifically, Sirach zeroes in on our actions saying that, “It is in conversation, in a person’s words that we will know their worth.”  It is another way of saying, “You will know the truth—the good of something, “by the fruits.”  In our own time this past week, three white men were convicted of hate crimes against a black man by merit of their hate-filled posts on social media. 

   Sirach’s words are fulfilled in Jesus’ words today from Luke, “All people speak from their heart’s abundance—a good tree does not produce decayed fruit any more than a decayed tree produces good fruit.”  I have been especially challenged of late as I look at my own reactions to some of the world’s many, many instances of injustice. A war waged on an innocent country by a bully a world away but affecting that world and its people and many others around our beautiful earth through commerce and daily living needs. So, I have to answer myself and address the anger I feel and express verbally at times and ask if it has gone beyond “righteous” anger.

   I think many times my friends, we confuse seemingly righteous actions with what is the right thing to do, and we can only discover that in the depths of our hearts and work for a balance.     

   As I listened to the news coming out of Washington and around the world this week, I found that when it comes to the issue of one country waging war on another country, and especially with Putin’s Russia, the two political parties in our country can seem to find agreement for the most part on what our country needs to do, when they can’t on anything else that involves the needs of people in their day-to-day lives.

   I think that the words from our prophets today, serve us well.  “Be steadfast and persevering, fully engaged in the work of Christ,” that we all speak from the abundance in our hearts, and that our words speak louder perhaps than our actions.  Whether a person is believable or not seems to stem from the impression they have made on us—which includes their words, as well as their actions! 

   Diane Bergant, Scripture scholar, speaks to this issue in her commentary on today’s readings.  As we all know, and she makes the point of saying; one only has one chance to make a good first impression.  The trouble with this, she continues, is that our culture often holds up less than good criteria for what makes a “good, or acceptable” person—many times the criteria have to do with external things; the clothes we wear, the shape of our bodies and so on.  And how unfortunate if we never go any deeper than that!

   It is only in living—through our life experiences, and with others, she suggests, that we come to see what is most important about those we meet in our lives—what they are made of–on the inside.  This is called, “wisdom”—something we hopefully come to in our lifetimes.

   When we are driven by the externals alone, she goes on, the genuine person loses out.  Part of our anger and at times, hopelessness, it seems to me, in viewing day-to-day issues is the lack of genuineness, of truth, of those willing to speak truth to power, boldly and with conviction, demonstrating what are the tenets of integrity-truth and faith perhaps, upon which many of us stand. 

   I was encouraged this past week in hearing a story out of India that shared that the country has no “anti-vaxers.” One has to wonder why that is when in our country, the anti-vaxers have literally slowed down the time when our country can move back into more “free” lives.  It would seem that this is one of the down sides to our gift of freedom.  Additionally, I think it comes from many in this country, from high places especially, using the good will of others to support their own selfish needs.

    According to Sirach, Bergant reminds us, the true test of the “pot” is seen in the firing.  In other words, none of this will be easy—change is always hard and especially for those who have been entrenched so long on a certain path. 

   But again, as Paul reminds us today; we must be “fully engaged in the work of Jesus.” If that had been the case, many ills in our country and Church, i.e. slavery, burning so-called “witches,” the sexual abuse of children could never have gone on as long as they did. And it isn’t enough for us to lay blame, but we must all be part of the solution that we want to see, instead of, part of the problem. And this, granted, can be unclear at times. 

   Just because we see something as good, doesn’t mean that we should necessarily do it—have we included the needs of all, including ourselves and possibly others that we work with in what we are about to do?

   Jesus had no time for hypocrites, a word that in the Greek, Bergant reminds us, means play-acting or pre-tense. It was Jesus who stressed that we should never correct others before we have corrected ourselves—the story of the speck in their eyes versus the plank in our own. Self-righteousness clouds our view of our own faults. 

   So, my friends, let us pray for strength, for all, to be steadfast in the belief that our God loves us all and we do this best by keeping our eyes on Jesus.  Sometimes we make the mistake of believing that Jesus never said, “no” that everyone who asked, got a “yes.” The truth is that he always tried to challenge people to be the best they could be in order to be good and just to others and sometimes, the “other” was in fact, themselves.  Amen? Amen!”