Homily – 29th Weekend in Ordinary Time

My friends, Ordinary Time, which is soon coming to an end, challenges us around the ordinary “stuff” of our lives, instructing us to find the answers to what makes life meaningful in the everyday, realizing that our faith will be lived out in our present lives, if at all.  There is nothing “out of the ordinary” that God asks of us , only that we engage wholeheartedly in the endeavors of each day.

We are called as baptized Christians to proclaim the Gospel and we do that primarily by the way that we live our lives, the choices we make for good, for the care of others and our world.

Clarissa Pinkola Estes, American poet and author of Women Who Run with the Wolves, speaks of “calm” and within that attribute encourages us to powerful actions, in the midst of “a stormy world.” She challenges us to “show our souls.”

I believe we saw evidence of “soul showing” this week in a speech given by First Lady, Michelle Obama denouncing Republican Presidential nominee, Donald Trump for the deplorable way he has treated women, for the deplorable way he speaks of them and for having bragged about abusing women. As she so rightly says, this goes beyond politics to what is basic, human decency.  She went so far as to say that his kind of rhetoric not only angers her, but it makes her afraid for our country.  This is the definition of “showing your soul.”  All of today’s readings additionally call us to perseverance in living our lives of faith and as St. Paul says, “When convenient and when inconvenient.”

The first reading from Exodus encourages perseverance in prayer—the second, perseverance in preaching the gospel and the Gospel passage from Luke encourages us to fight for justice until we have it!

The first reading is problematic for many Christians today because of its violence.  It would appear that the power of God is assisting Moses and the Israelites to wipe out Amalek and his army and not only to defeat them, but, “to put them to the sword.” It is important to remember that there is a cultural difference that we are dealing with as we read this story from the ancient Israelites and try to insert it into our own culture.

The place of war and battle and God’s part in it meant something different to them in their relationship with God than it means for us today.  We have the benefit of Jesus’ teaching that they did not.

This reading does hold richness for us though.  The richness comes from understanding the persistence of the Israelite people and that translates for us the same way—we must be persistent in asking God for what we need, trusting that God will provide, no matter how hard the difficulties we face.

The other piece that is so significant in this reading from Exodus is the importance of humility on our parts-realizing that we aren’t self-sufficient-that we need help beyond ourselves to sustain the strength needed to persevere.  God answers our prayers for assistance through our communities of faith and care.  Aaron and Hur assisted Moses in the battle by holding up his arms-he became tired and couldn’t remain strong by himself.  Each of us have found ourselves in such predicaments-we know the right thing to do, but the fight often becomes tiring-we need a supportive friend to say, “I understand, I support you, I’ve got your back!”

The opposite is also true-sometimes the “shoe is on the other foot” so to speak.  Someone else needs a friend, needs the support-how often do we lift a hand-speak a word for another who is perhaps discriminated against and is standing alone, facing the status quo group who doesn’t want to be bothered?

Paul’s letter to Timothy in today’s 2nd reading gets into this issue. He is admonishing Timothy as a baptized follower of Jesus, the Christ to persevere in following the Gospel–not only when easy and convenient, but when hard and inconvenient.  We can all look to our own life experiences and name times when the way was clear as to what was needed to be done, in a relationship, in our family, or within our business place, organization or elsewhere-yet to proceed with what was needed would certainly not be convenient or initially, very peaceful.  Even so, the way we needed to be/to go, was still clear—this is the kind of perseverance that Paul is challenging us about today.

This is the perseverance that Michelle Obama was talking about in her speech.  She struggled with saying something and ultimately realized that her integrity as a person was at stake—for all the daughters, sisters, mothers, aunts who have been belittled and abused, she needed to speak!

The First Lady follows a long line of strong women beginning with the widow in today’s Gospel.  Michelle Obama understands the plight of the gospel widow—as a woman herself and a black woman at that, she already has two strikes against her and in a culture that still doesn’t openly and immediately disavow the disgusting rhetoric of an individual running for president simply because he happens to be male.  The First Lady realizes that she and all and each woman must speak up for justice until the “judge” gives her some.

Our baptisms call us to continually keep our eyes on Jesus, attempting to live with love and compassion for our sisters and brothers, whoever they may be.  We are called to gentleness, to mercy, to forgiveness, and to truth.  Speaking the truth when needed is often not the most pleasant thing to do-it is often easier to remain silent, hoping that someone else will do it.  But friends, change doesn’t happen when we enable bad behavior that is not Christ-like to continue–whether we see it in our families, in our friends, or in our Church.  The skill is to learn how to do it with love.

And as Clarissa Pinkola Estes said so well: “There will always be times when you feel discouraged.  I too have felt despair many times in my life, but I do not keep a chair for it.  I will not entertain it.  It is not allowed to eat from my plate.  The reason is this: In my uttermost bones, I know something, as do you.  It is that there can be no despair when you remember why you came to earth, who you serve, and who sent you here.  The good words we say and the good deeds we do are not ours. They are the words and deeds of the One who brought us here.  In that Spirit—I invite you to consider Pinkola Estes’ words:  “When a great ship is in harbor and moored, it is safe; there can be no doubt.  But that is not what great ships are built for.”

Homily – 28th Sunday in Ordinary Time

My friends, it is great to be back with you all again! Being away always serves two wonderful realities. Getting away opens one up to more and new ideas through seeing how people in different places respond to their lands of origin, life choices in work and relationships and just the pure and simple beauty of the land.  The other reality is returning home to all that is familiar and dear and re-engaging with life—refreshed! Being away did both for us; so here we are!

Today, we are called and challenged to practice two very important values in our faith that come directly from what it means to be human. The values are compassion and gratitude.  As human beings, our very natures call us to be our best and we know that life in community flows along so much better when we are respectful of others and their needs as well as our own.  Furthermore, if we can show gratitude for the good that others do for us, life becomes so much better.

Unfortunately, some people in our age and time have more of a sense that life owes them something and they bullishly move through their days and years trying to claim “their rights” while giving little if anything in return.  In our faith as Christians, as followers of our brother, Jesus, the Christ, whose life was all about love and service—especially to those in society considered, “less than” others, for whatever reason; we must be people of compassion and gratitude and take it to a new level.

In two of our readings today, we hear of the dreaded illness, leprosy.  Known medically as Hansen’s disease and thought by most to be eradicated, is, says the World Health Organization, a major health concern in the developing countries of our world.

That having been said, in both the First and Second Testaments of the Bible, the term, “leprosy” covered a multitude of skin diseases, psoriasis and eczema among them.  There was so little understanding of what caused illness at this time, that it is understandable that people would fear being around folks who they might contract illness from, and a despicable one at that. Any affliction that included weeping sores was considered leprosy and made the person ritually unclean or unfit for worship.

So then, enter Jesus who as we know, always called his followers to more goodness, to more character. He always tried to work within the law and he understood how the people thought, thus his instruction to show themselves to the priests who would then OK them for worship. And then there was the added piece—that this affliction was no doubt caused by a grievous sin—again, because they didn’t know how it was caused, this seemed plausible and was reinforced by the clergy of the time. Jesus, our brother didn’t let it stop there knowing that the common practice was to shun them from the community when really what they needed was good food, good care—to be kept clean, so that they could heal—basically, to be loved and that is why he cured them.

Then, we meet Naaman, a non-Israelite in the First Testament reading from 2 Kings. In both this reading and that of the Gospel of Luke; we see two people whom we might think , given their status as outcasts, might not be grateful, if in fact we can make the case that those on the lower rungs of society would have no social skills either.  We see that the one who returns to thank Jesus is a Samaritan, and even though a Jew, is still considered “less than” even within his own group of people.

Naaman shows us the way when he sees what has happened—he praises the God of Elisha and takes it up a notch, wanting to gift Elisha for his goodness, his compassion toward him.  Because Elisha will take no reward for what God has called him to do, Naaman makes a strange request—that he be given two mule loads of earth. It makes sense though,  you see, when we learn that Naaman not only chooses to now follow and believe in Elisha’s God, but he wants to take some of the ground of Israel back to his own country where upon he can praise this God who was so gracious and compassionate as to cure him of his affliction.

This is much the same notion that travelers, such as Robert and I—yourselves and others have in mind when we bring something back from the places that we visit to keep the good of our experiences close by and to not soon forget what we experienced in a new place and culture.

Part of my desire to go to Prince Edward Island was to experience the land and places that writer; Lucy Maud Montgomery wrote so delightfully about in Anne of Green Gables.  I was introduced to Anne first through the public television series and only now am reading the stories and finding myself pleased with how faithful the movie version is to the written form—in many places, word for word!  Prince Edward Island is a lovely, green place as are many of these Northern provinces, Nova Scotia and New Brunswick where the “colors” were at their peak last week.

The Samaritan in today’s Gospel, who in many ways, can be called, “good,” even though his society looked down on him, was the only one to return and give thanks for what Jesus had done for him.  The others went off to show themselves to the priest which was part of the law that they followed—in fact, it was what Jesus told them to do.

The point of this story friends, is not to criticize people for following the law, but to challenge theirs and our thinking around the fact that if following the law ever gets in the way of making the compassionate response–that of being purely grateful for what was given–moving perhaps out of our self-centeredness, then our response should be clear. We must always remember that Jesus our brother, calls us to more—more goodness, more character.

With this new month of October, I have begun to consider renewing my commitment to the Rochester Franciscans as a Cojourner, which I originally made three years ago.  As a Cojourner, I am choosing to try and walk more closely with these Sister followers of Francis and Clare.  I will put together a ritual that will lift up the fact that I am better and the Sisters are better in we can walk together—sharing, each from our God-given gifts, for the betterment of all. Interestingly enough, one of the candidates asking for the privilege of leading our country this year has been saying the same thing! “We are better when we stand together!”

The reading from 2 Timothy finds Paul in prison; yet he is able to continue to believe and trust in Jesus, the Christ, who saved and allowed him to live in a way that would save others.  Faith is another important piece in the stories we are given today.  It took faith for Naaman to jump into the river—it took faith for the 10 lepers to go off and present themselves to the priests, believing that indeed they had been cured.It takes faith my friends for each of us to trust and believe that God will be true to God’s word—that Jesus’ words toward the end of his physical life with us, “Don’t be afraid; I will be with you, always,” are true.

During the second week of our recent trip, I was called to reflect on Jesus’ words here when my body was more of a hindrance to me then a help as I had a bout of sciatica in my left leg that made itself known in the early hours of each morning.  My spirit was tested as I implored God to be with me. Our good God sent my dear husband Robert for comfort and in the days since home, I am treating the symptoms.

We cannot leave these readings without lifting up one more key point that they make clear, and that is God’s over-the-top love for each of us–no exceptions!  Once again, Luke’s Jesus makes it clear that Abba God’s love is for everyone—no one is less than anyone else.

Jesus additionally challenges all of us around the thinking of his day which is still with us in our day to some extent, and that is the idea that God punishes us with illness because of our sin.  Jesus choosing to be with the afflicted in his earthly life certainly put the lie to such thinking.  My bout with sciatica could certainly have caused me to wonder where God was, had I chosen to go there.

As I stated earlier, God was present in the love and support of Robert as I would have been for him were the tables turned. This is something we simply must always remember, our God is with us in all the love that surrounds us—we must always believe that for it gives us so much hope. Our faith, my friends, our belief in Jesus always calls us to more, to be bigger, better people, to name lies as such whether they come from Church or State demanding the very best from our leaders, including the “wannabes.”   Jesus pulls down the walls of power that we humans construct saying that a certain culture, gender, lifestyle is better than any other.

Pope Francis, a breath of fresh air for our Church is doing the same—once again calling our nation to the need that each of us let go of control and grab onto love as the way to face and embrace our world.  He is coming at the “woman issue” a little bit slower than many would like through the issue of women deacons, but at least he is allowing some conversation and engaging in it himself.

A book that a friend introduced me to a few years back that Robert and I have been discussing lately, The Creation of Patriarchy, by Gerda Lerner is one that Francis and all church men need to embrace so that they can let go of really ignorant statements such as, “women can’t be ordained—it can’t be done!”

As Lerner spells out so well, it’s a move of power against women from earliest times—that simple, born out of power and it can be changed whenever the men decide to do it—end of story! To ever give the reason that somehow God would be offended if  leadership roles were given to women, is absolutely absurd coming from a God who created us all as equal. Maybe from a male, chauvinistic god, this would be understandable, but not from the God that I know.

On a positive note, this past week, Francis has been talking to the Anglican Archbishop of Canterbury, Justin Welby about the ways the two groups are alike pointing to some movement forward.

We must all begin to look at God’s people—everyone as God looks at each of us—with love, nothing else, just love.  Presently, we are holding on our hearts and minds the people of Haiti, especially those in Jeremie, whose town was flattened by the ravages of Hurricane Matthew.  This particular place has special meaning for our family as our son Isaac served for 2 years in that area while in the Peace Corps. And certainly the people along our Eastern Coast as well should be remembered.

The terminology around Hurricane Matthew speaks of “storm surges” and “walls of water”—devastating to say the least. If we were to take this terminology and apply it to our world in Jesus’ name—letting our compassion for others be that big—letting each of us strive to be all that we can be—can you imagine what a force that would be? Let’s give it a try in our own backyard going forward. Amen? Amen!

 

 

 

 

 

Homily – 27th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Dear Friends, 

Pastor Dick Dahl gave us this homily to reflect on last Sunday–may you be inspired as was I. 

David Brooks, a columnist for the New York Times, wrote an opinion-piece this week entitled “The Age of Reaction.” In it he stated: “The more serious problem is today’s pervasive and self-reinforcing pessimism, which feeds the reactionary impulse.

Brooks’ view is that “The belief systems that used to reinforce a faith in progress have become less influential.

First there was moderate religiosity, the belief that God is ultimately in control, that all things are ultimately fashioned toward the good and that the arc of history bends toward justice. This was the mind-set that made Martin Luther King Jr. fundamentally optimistic, even in temporarily dark times. Then there was humanism, the belief that people are learning more and more, inventing more and more, and so history is a steady accumulation of good things. Brooks concluded, “As humanism and moderate religion have withered, gloom has pervaded that national mind.”

David Brooks’ words about the way many people think today seemed to reflect the way many were thinking at the time of Habakkuk in today’s first reading: “I cry out for your help, O God, but You do not hear me…Why must I see misery? Desolation and violence are all I see?” These words would seem to be more appropriate today in the dreadfully besieged city of Allepo in Syria, than in the United States, yet many here also feel besieged and overwhelmed.

In the second reading Paul writes to Timothy to “stir into flame the gift of God bestowed on us…the Spirit…that makes us strong, loving and wise.” Although Paul is in prison, he urges Timothy “never be ashamed of your testimony to our Savior…but with the strength which comes from God, bear your share of the hardship which the gospel entails.” Do so “with the help of the Holy Spirit who dwells within us.”

Even the Gospel reading is a challenge to have faith and to do our duty and not expect life to be easy.

As I thought about these scriptural challenges, I was helped by a book which I am reading for the second time, “My Life with the Saints,” by James Martin, S.J.  After six years in the business world, James Martin left his job at age 28 to enter a Jesuit novitiate. Once there he was struck by the deep devotion many of his fellow novices had to various saints. At first he found the idea of praying to the saints rather superstitious. He wrote, “What was the point? If God hears your prayers, why do you need the saints?”

Then he started to read about them, such as “The Story of a Soul” by Therese of Lisieux or “The Long Loneliness” by Dorothy Day. He began to see them as models of holiness relevant to contemporary believers” and perhaps even more important, he began to understand better the remarkable ways that God acts in the lives of individuals like you and me. He realized that none of us are meant to be like anyone of the seventeen saints he wrote about in his book. As he put it, “We’re meant to be ourselves, and meant to allow God to work in and through our own individuality, our own humanity.”

First of all, he breaks through the image of “saint” that is a barrier for many of us. These were not perfect people. They were not all the same. Many of them felt disappointment, frustration and anger with organized religion. Dorothy Day liked to quote Roman

o Guardini’s saying, “The Church is the cross on which Christ is crucified today.”

All of them encountered suffering of some kind. When we undergo similar difficulties, it’s consoling to know that others went through similar trials without giving up. In knowing their lives, we can avail ourselves of their hard-earned wisdom.

Therese of Lisieux, was a simple young French girl who wanted to become a Carmelite nun like two of her older sisters. Six years after entering the convent at age fifteen, she developed tuberculosis and died after enduring a painful illness. What does she have to offer us? Why has this young woman, secluded as she was throughout her brief life in a French convent, become a beloved, inspiring person to millions throughout the world?

Therese’s illness was a barrier to the missionary life in Vietnam she had hoped to live. Once ill she knew she would be unable to great things for God. She decided she would do the small and insignificant acts of her life with as much love as possible. Father Martin writes, “She suffered small indignities at the hands of her sisters and strove to be as generous as possible even during her illness. The sisters in the convent who showed the least kindness to Therese were the ones she tried to love the most; the most vexing and disagreeable sister was the one she chose to sit beside during recreation.”

In contrast to Therese, as a student at the University of Illinois, Dorothy Day became interested in a career in writing. She also became interested in the pressing political issues of the day: poverty, radical social change, and organized labor. She took assignments as a journalist in New York City with radical papers and covered socialist movements, the International Workers of the World, “bread riots,” unemployment, protest marches on city hall, and child labor laws. During a suffragist march in Washington D.C., she was arrested and thrown in jail alongside many other women protestors. Her time in jail left a lasting impression. She and her companions began a hunger strike to protest the treatment of the imprisoned. She deepened her identification with the poor and abused in society.

She became pregnant from an affair with a man she had met while working in a local hospital and had the child aborted. But she eventually came to see herself as one person in a long line of forgiven sinners. When in 1926 she became pregnant again, the event gave rise to a kind of natural religious experience. The pregnancy awakened in her an appreciation for creation and a desire to be in a relationship with God. She had the girl baptized. Her partner, the father of their daughter, whom she loved deeply was an anarchist with absolutely no interest in organized religion. He could not tolerate her newfound religious faith. As a result they parted a year later, a painful experience for Dorothy who feared being left along with her child. She had also become  Catholic and thus paid a stiff price for her conversion.

With the guidance of Peter Maurin, her mentor, Dorothy founded a newspaper, “The Catholic Worker.” The first issue was distributed on May 1, 1933, May Day and later the Feast of St. Joseph the Worker. It sold 2500 copies for a penny a piece (as it still does). By the end of the year it was distributing 100,000 copies.  Dorothy started “houses of hospitality” for the poor in NYC. These centers offered food and shelter for hundreds of men and woman during the Depression. The Catholic Worker movement gradually began to spread throughout the United States. Many years later, in 1973 when she was 76, Dorothy was arrested and jailed for her participation in a United Farm Workers rally supporting Cesar Chavez and the rights of migrant workers.

Father Martin writes, “Dorothy Day stands for many values: the importance of solidarity with the poor in living out the gospel, the value of nonviolence as a way of promoting peace, the importance of community in the life of the church. She also stands for those who think themselves too damaged or sinful to do anything meaningful for God.”

Like her good friend, Thomas Merton, Dorothy had an expansive view of prayer. She maintained that people can pray through the witness of their lives, the friendships they enjoy, and the love they offer and receive from others.

One of Father Martin’s favorite passages in Thomas Merton’s autobio-graphy, “the Seven Storey Mountain” is when Merton is speaking with his friend Robert Lax shortly after Merton’s baptism. Merton tells his friend that he wants to be a good Catholic. “What you should say,” says his friend, “is that you want to be a saint.”

Merton tells the rest of the story: A saint? The thought struck me as a little weird. I said, “How do you expect me to become a saint?”

“By wanting to,” said Lax simply….All that is necessary to be a saint is to want to be one. Don’t you believe God will make you what he created you to be, if you consent to let him do it? All you have to do is desire it.”

Father Martin’s book helped me to recognize that there is a vast community of people whom we can come to know, who can offer us comfort and examples of discipleship, and help as we discover our own individual ways of being a saint. As Paul wrote to Timothy, “With the help of the Holy Spirit who dwells within us, bear your share of the hardship which the gospel entails.” The saints encourage us to “stir into flame the gift of God, the Spirit, that makes us strong, loving and wise.”

In closing, I want to share a conversation I had on Friday with my daughter Stacy who lives in Vienna, Austria with her husband and two children. On Friday Stacy took her younger child, Luca, who is turning nine in two days, to a dance class which he loves. On the way home they were riding in a very crowded train. Luca said very loudly, “Mama, I now know what I want to be when I grow up.” He got everyone’s attention. Stacy asked him what that would be. Luca said “I want to be a street sweeper and to take care of the homeless. In my spare time I want to take care of the world’s problems.”  I think everyone within earshot went home feeling a little lighter in their heart. Saints are not perfect but they come in all sizes and shapes and in all times. Each of us can be one.

Homily – 26th Weekend in Ordinary Time

My friends, in my absence last weekend, parishioner Nancy Miller gave us this homily. I am sure you will be inspired as was I.  Thanks Nancy!

I have some thoughts on the readings.  My first thought after I finished the readings was, “Boy, Amos was not a fun guy.”

He was criticizing people for having nice furniture, good food, wine, playing music.  If those thing are bad, then I’m in trouble.  But his concern was not just with the things.  He criticizes those around him who don’t care about the fall of Joseph.  They don’t care about what’s happening in their own country.

And what was happening in their country?  I found this earlier passage from Amos:

Yes, I know how many are your crimes, how grievous your sins.  Oppressing the just, accepting               bribes, repelling the needy at the gate.

Now, I’m getting it.  I watched Law & Order.  I know what happens when a judge accepts a bribe — the guilty go free, and the innocent are punished.  The rich feel that they can do anything they want, break any law, and all they have to do is wave some money at the judge, and they are free to go; while the poor feel that there is no justice for them.

And, not only are they denying the poor justice, but when the poor and needy come to their gate, they say, “There’s nothing for you here.  Go away.”

And that’s why Amos was angry; that’s why he was pointing out the good food, and the nice furniture.  “You have so much, and yet, you’re telling those in need to “Go away.”

Jesus was concerned with much the same thing in his story.  Except where Amos was going into the temple swinging a 2 by 4, and saying, “You’ve done this and that,” Jesus said, “Let me tell you a little story…”  There was a rich man, and how rich was he?  He was so rich he wore a purple robe.  At one point, only royalty were allowed to wear the color purple.  Maybe, it was any expensive dye, and only the very wealthy could afford it.  But this man was not only rich, he was an important member of society.  And, he got up every day, in his nice house with nice furniture, and had a good meal, and he walked out the door every day, and there was Lazarus on his doorstep.  Lazarus was poor, hungry, thirsty, and sick.  What did the rich man do?   I can see him, walking out of his door, and stepping over Lazarus, and going about his business.  Did he ever offer Lazarus one act of kindness? No, apparently not.  Because in the afterlife, he went to the bad place, and Lazarus went to the good place.  So, not even a single act of kindness.

I’m going to take a detour now.  My favorite book is A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens.  These readings reminded me of Ebenezer Scrooge.  When Scrooge was talking to the ghost of Jacob Marley, he could see that Marley was distressed and tormented.  And he offered some words of comfort, “Jacob, you were always a good man of business.”  Marley replied, “Mankind was my business.”

I have another story which I got off the Internet, so who knows if it’s true or not.  There was this person who lived and worked in a big city.  Every day, on his way to work, he saw homeless people near his office building sleeping in the doorways, some sleeping on the sidewalk.  And this person was inspired to write an open letter to his city.  In this letter, he explained about seeing the homeless every day, and he suggested that his city might want to come down and clean up the area.  He wrote, “I’m a productive citizen, and I make a valuable contribution to this city.  And those people do not.  And I shouldn’t have to look at this every day.”

In Paul’s letter to Timothy, he said, “Don’t be like that.  You want to be kind, loving, and faithful.”

I don’t want to be like the people Amos was talking to.  I don’t want to be like the rich person Jesus was talking about.  I don’t want to be like Ebenezer Scrooge.  And I know I don’t want to be like the letter-writer.

I have one last story to tell.  Again, I saw this on the Internet.  There was a person who lived, and worked in a big city.  Every day going into work, this person saw homeless people on the sidewalk near his building.  This person happened to be a hair stylist.  He asked himself, “What can I do?  I’m not a politician; I’m a hair stylist!”

One day, inspiration came.  The hair stylist got a mover’s dolly, and loaded up a small, portable sink and a chair onto it.  And he rolled the dolly out to the sidewalk.  He walked over to the homeless people, and said, “Hi.  I’m a hair stylist.  I have a sink and chair right here.  Would you like for me to wash, cut, and style your hair?”

Some people thought he had lost his mind, but some took him up on his offer.  One man had a lot of hair, coming down over his shoulders and a long wild beard.  Think of Hagrid in the Harry Potter films, that’s what the man looked like.  The stylist washed all the man’s hair; gave him a haircut; trimmed his mustache; and trimmed his beard.  After he was all done, the stylist handed the man a mirror, and asked, “Well, what do you think?”

The man looked at his reflection in the mirror, and said, “My God!  I look human again.”

That’s who I want to be like.

Those are my thoughts on today’s readings.

 

 

 

 

Homily – 25th Weekend in Ordinary Time

My friends, today we are challenged to look at what is really important in our lives—what drives us.  Is it to accumulate more and more, or is there a sense within us that what I have is gift and I am meant to share it with others.  We may reason that we have worked hard for everything that we’ve acquired in life, and that no one gave us a free ride and that we are entitled now to a bit of the good life.

While that may be true on the one hand; we must remember that certain gifts within our persons were given by the nature of who our parents were, that they decided to and were able to have children, were the kind of people who encouraged us to use our gifts—worked to give us an education that enhanced the basic traits that came with our births. Then there is the fact that we were born in this country instead of in the Third World where opportunity is so much less.  And that is another whole homily—why the Third World has so much less.

I know some of you, as I, have had the opportunity to travel in Third World countries and are aware that each day people are forced to choose between feeding their children or educating them.  Such trips are life-changing as one returns with a new sense of gratitude and a resolution to work to see that all of God’s people have more of a chance to enjoy the good gifts of this earth that God intended for all of us, not just some of us.  That is why I just can’t quite get my heart around the fact that some members of our Congress find it so difficult to advocate in every way for good medical health care for their constituents when they themselves enjoy this same privilege, and instead of making it a moral imperative, they turn it into a political game.

I often think about how many people struggle in this world for many things like food on the table, that I basically take for granted will be there every day. In a trip that our family was privileged to take to Guatemala some years back, we were impressed and deeply moved by the inadequacies in this world and one doesn’t even have to leave this country to have that awareness.

Pope Francis, has called us to attention and rightly so, to keep our eyes on the poor—to remember that our brother Jesus came into his world preaching a message for all times and places, that basically said, that none of us can be satisfied to be rich if any of us are poor and live without the basics of life. We do, as Jesus’ followers have a responsibility to work for justice and equality in our world.  As I watch Pope Francis in action and think about his calling all of us to a renewed awareness of the poor in our midst, I am reminded of a pope of some 30 years ago, John Paul I, who I mentioned last week and I repeat, we lost him too soon!

He said, “As long as there is any child in this world that is hungry and starving to death, that is the only problem that we have!” As I have shared before, he was poised, in fact, to sell off the Vatican treasures to eliminate poverty in our world before his untimely death—the author of a book about him guessed that may have played a role in the mysterious death of this otherwise remarkably healthy man.

This year, I have had the privilege to witness the vows of two couples professing to live in love with each other for as long as they both shall live.  Today we are speaking about the physical poverty that many in this world are challenged to live with that causes them to be hungry.  Within the marriage rite, part of the service includes a reaching out within this liturgy of love to pray for the needs of others because the love we give in a special way to one other should expand and enable us to love all others in our world, better and more fully. There is a beautiful petition within the prayers for others that asks the couple and the community gathered to remember “the hungry poor and the hungry rich, the lonely young and the lonely old.” There are many ways that people are poor.

As people of faith, we have always been called to care for the least among us.  The prophet Amos in our first reading today is chastising the rich for becoming that way on the backs of the poor.  Present day prophets like Francis remind us again and again that poverty exists in our world because a small percentage of people are using the lion’s share of the world’s goods.  This is something that we all will be called to answer for one day.  Did we ever raise a finger, speak a word, write a congressperson, or support an initiative to balance the use of our world’s goods?

Very soon we all will be called to our political duty of voting for individuals who can best meet the needs of most of the people.  We really need to consider well and pray fervently that we and our country will choose wisely.

We see the difficulty of the questions that face us in our world when we ponder Jesus’ words to us today. What are we to make of his story? Is he really telling us that the dishonesty of the steward is to be praised in taking care of him, ultimately?  No, exegetes tell us that what Jesus is praising is the steward’s creativity in working out his problem.   What he is suggesting is that we, who are supposedly his followers,would be as equally creative in finding ways to serve not just ourselves, but the needy throughout our world.

Can any one of us do all that needs to be done?  No, of course not—but if each of us would make a point to work on our piece, whatever that may be; to conserve the world’s goods, to use less to start with, grow a garden, raise a plant on our porch, share our excess—basically opening our minds to what causes poverty in our world and make our voices heard through the Legislature to change policy, making life more just for all of  God’s people, not just in our country, but throughout our world.

As a Rochester Franciscan Cojourner, I am part of a Water Group that basically looks at water use, our own consumption of it and how it is used in our country.  Recently, our group was looking at what hurts our water supply like the massive mining of sand for fracking.

Our churches too can do so much more.  Unfortunately, our Roman Catholic church, in its hierarchy tends to get stuck shoring up its walls of power as opposed to doing all that it can to insure that the spiritual, emotional and physical needs of the People of God are being met.

I mentioned last week reading a biography of Raymond Hunthausen, archbishop of Seattle, Washington from 1975-1991.  As I said, he was a Vatican II bishop and believed that it was the Spirit of Jesus that was calling our Church to reform –to open windows and doors, following the inspired man of God, John XXIII.

Raymond Hunthausen’s bottom line was always, what was the most loving thing to do as he struggled with current issues of his day: celibacy for priests, married priests, the ordination of women, just treatment of gays and lesbians within the Church,  and the ironic thing, in the end, was that his stance of openness on these issues and willingness to dialog were not what caused the Vatican to turn their collective backs on him.  His stance on nuclear weaponry butted heads with an American president and a pope.

The whole papacy of John Paul II was devoted to backing away from the vision and inspiration of the Spirit of God as laid out for the People of God in the Second Vatican Council and Archbishop Hunthausen was one of the pope’s scapegoats to keep forward-thinking prelates in line.

Our present pope, Francis, one whom I believe is truly trying to be open to the Spirit of God, is constantly asking the question of what Jesus might have done and he does this best when calling us to care for the poor and disadvantaged of this world.

I believe Paul’s words today are good marching words for each of us as we truly try to be all that Jesus calls us to be for our world.  Paul says, I want people everywhere to lift their hands up reverently in prayer without anger or dissension—“there should be prayers offered for everyone,” he says. The prayers Paul asks for include prayers for those in leadership—that they might “live godly lives”…and “do what is right.”  That is why we always pray within our Masses for the pope and our local bishop, because leadership takes courage, strength and wisdom. Our prayer is that one day we will all be one, doing what God has called each of us to do, without putting up the false barriers of gender, race, lifestyle, but simply living lives that extol love, mercy and justice for all.

Another book that I have been spending time with now over several years as I meet with my Franciscan mentor and friend, Sr. Marcan Freking is, St. Francis and the Foolishness of God, compiled by several Franciscan women and men.  In a chapter entitled, “Francis and Transforming Friendship,” the authors recall the Old Testament Jacob returning to his brother Esau whom he stole the family inheritance from in his youth.  With the years, often comes maturity and spiritual growth.  The repentant Jacob was able to embrace his brother Esau and say, “Coming into your presence is like coming into the presence of God.” The authors seem to be telling us that when we can truly share life with others on more than a surface level, hearing and appreciating their stories and what they struggle with; it is then that we see the face of God.

My friends, please recall our Alleluia verse from today where we remembered that Jesus became poor so that we could become rich—let us pray for each other that we can walk in his footsteps.  Amen? Amen!