My friends, each Sunday, our reflection of the Scriptures should challenge us, and this week is no exception.  Along with the challenge to generally be the best people we can be, following in Jesus’ footsteps—often come questions about exactly what the Scriptures are saying and sometimes it seems as though the challenges work against each other.

Our readings today address the whole issue of who is equipped to minister to the People of God, and of course, that draws us right into the ever present questions of whether gender, race, or sexual expression make any difference, or make one “unfit” for service.  Common sense tells us that it should make no difference, but then we must deal with the law, the rules and regulations which often say something different.

We see somewhat the same dilemma today in our first reading and again in our gospel selection from Mark.  Joshua is questioning why Eldad and Medad are prophesying—shouldn’t that be Moses’ place since he is in the position of leadership? After I was ordained; I received the same kind of questioning from the previous and the current bishop when I was a regular staff chaplain at Winona Health.  But the questions were directed to the CEO about what I was doing at the hospital. I thought, better for them to perhaps do their own work of pastoring their flock as we all know there is enough work to go around. As Moses responded so well; “If only all of God’s people were prophets!”

We, my friends, are all called to be prophets—to announce God’s deep and all-abiding love for each of us.  How wonderful it would be if we could each be so clear in the announcement of this message; that people would have no doubt about it—that we are all, in fact, loved.

I met too many people in my career as a chaplain who didn’t know that they are loved—so I think we could use a few more prophets, giving out exactly this one message; or perhaps hear that message coming more clearly from those who claim this role, instead of specifics on who, and for what we should vote and who indeed, is worthy of the rights and privileges of marriage.  Now that it is the law of the land—granting the rights and privileges of marriage to any couple regardless of gender, it is time that our Church hierarchy gets on board. Hopefully, Francis, the beloved pope, who has said, “Who is he to judge?”—will do this!

Looking to the First Testament people for instruction on who could be a prophet, we see a two-fold path.  First, the call came from God and second, the call was always for the people—for the community—it was affirmed by the community and it was never given for the individual, nor for their power or glory—to help them move, “up the ladder.” We are grateful to Francis for addressing this issue with the Curia and with bishops around the world, and hopefully putting a stop to it.

As a chaplain resident in training, back in 1993-94, a question would arise for me from time to time—how can I be sure that my call is truly from God?  The answer, consistently given, was, you will know in the peace of your heart, and in your desire to do the work, to serve;  and you will be confirmed by the people—in their acceptance of your ministry.  Things seemed to work well when both criteria were present for me and it seems that was true for the First Testament people too.

Our hearts are powerful instruments in showing us the way—we should listen more often to the message this vital organ is prompting within us and the confirmation of our “heart” work comes from the people who affirm and confirm, our work.

In the first reading, there seems to be trouble when the people haven’t had anything to say about who is called into service—the call needs to come from God, but also from the people!  The experience of the women across this country who have been called to ordination, myself included, has always been to argue that we can’t follow an unjust law that says we aren’t fit for ordination—God is calling us and that call always trumps the Church’s law. Anthony de Mello, a spiritual guide who died in 1987, said, “Obedience keeps the rules. Love knows when to break them.”

The notion of the people calling forth someone to lead their parish is one never considered in our present day Church.  I can’t ever remember being asked my opinion, or even given the chance to voice it, in regard to any priest or bishop who became the new one “in command.” This is all done, as you know, in far-away Rome, especially in regard to bishops, with no input from the people who will hopefully be served. In the past, it was done without knowledge of a proper fit of “leader” to people.

Hopefully, now more consideration is given to how someone will gel with the people as opposed to who can best control them.  It is time that Church fathers grow up and begin to treat their congregants as grownups too!

Jesus deals with a bit of the same issue.  Someone is speaking in their name—in Jesus’ name.  Jesus simply responds—“if they aren’t against us, they must be for us!”  He was one to always look at the bigger picture—what are the fruits, he asks.  And what his words speak further to, is being open to the Spirit alive in our midst, perhaps showing us a new way to be with and for God, with and for each other.

We speak often here about different faith belief systems and the possibility of each having a piece of the truth—that we can learn from different understandings, rather than put down other beliefs that don’t reflect our own. Even here within our parish, we welcome those from different faith groups to be part of this new parish, All Are One.

Anglican bishop, John Shelby Spong, has spoken well to the point of how important it is that we allow God to be God and learn from our God’s all-inclusive love. We need to leave behind the angry God of human making created simply to control people by holding salvation over their heads and embrace the God that is for us—is with us!

This is another area where we can credit Francis in his instruction to bishops and priests—that they must be about mercy, about love and show it on their faces, in their pastoral approach. His reaching out to the poor, the little children, with love, is much of his appeal. Now if he can just take his blinders off where women are concerned, a bridge that needs to be crossed would be.

And it really behooves him to make this next leap because of his desire to care for the poor of this world.  He was challenged as only a prophet can through the voice of Benedictine, Sister Joan Chittister in an open letter to him this past week.  She praised him for his desire to reach out to the poorest in our world, but reminded him that women are the poorest of the poor.  She delineates that women have to fight in this world for education, for just wages to care for themselves and their children, their voices, their God-given equality, which should open all of the above for them in this world and our Church.  She said in conclusion that until he models our brother Jesus in all the ways that he was open to women and accepting of them, “nothing can really change for their hungry children and their inhuman living conditions!”

Pope Francis has been called forth by the Spirit of God to set a new tone for our Church and he is a breath of fresh air. He is loved and respected worldwide for the ways that he reaches out and is willing to touch people and in more than physical ways.  His approach of using mercy in trying to understand the ideas that veer from Church law is a good one following in Jesus’ footsteps.  But he simply must apply this approach across the board and fully include women—until he does, his message is a good start, but this lack is too big to ignore.  May the God who loves each of us equally shine light upon this good man that he might become even more the prophet that our Church and world so sorely needs.

Words from this weekend’s gospel seem to be a good place to begin our reflection today. “Though they failed to understand [Jesus’] words, they were afraid to ask.” Where Jesus is concerned; there should never be fear.  Picking up on last week’s question, “Who do you say that I am?”—we must ask him whenever we don’t understand.  Depending on our answer to that question signals what we do next.  If we truly believe Jesus to be God’s best creation in human form—equal in fact to God, then we should bring our deepest concerns to him.

Visiting with a friend recently who is looking at the “rest of her life,” now with major changes, loss of a spouse and a new home location; I said, “Ask Jesus what he would like you to do next and trust that he will let you know.”

The gospel certainly gives direction—there are many things that a person can do when finding extra time on their hands and I know in the short time that I have been in this new state of “retirement,” that I could very easily fill it with any number of activities.  I too am looking at this issue and wanting ultimately to do what Jesus would want me to do.  It seems that it will have to do with “being of service” and with welcoming everyone “as a child,” as we read in today’s gospel.

Now we know that children in Jesus’ time were considered the least among all creatures, even beneath, women, so to understand what Jesus is saying; we have to remember this.  Pope Francis is setting the tone for us and as he visits the U.S. next week, will apparently be mincing no words in letting the most powerful nation on earth know that “unbridled capitalism is the dung of the devil!” He seems to believe that there is enough for everyone if we but share.

He will also be challenging our country, each of us, to care for our environment. Again, if we reflect on treating everyone, everything—think, all of creation as the least among us, our earth can support all of life, but each of us must remember that this fact is contingent upon taking good care of our planet.

If we think about the children—the little ones in our lives, we get a sense of this. I personally think of our grandson, Elliot and the wonderful care he is given by his parents and I know that without it, the outcome would be so different.  You and I have all seen examples of children abused, and not cared for, not loved, and we know how that turns out.  All of creation, all people—all living things are the same and must be cared for if they are to thrive.  Francis will be challenging us around all of these issues.

The accompanying readings for this week, one from Wisdom and the other from the apostle, James, add additional ideas that may be helpful, even comforting in our reflection.  The Wisdom writer says, “If the just are God’s children, God will reach down to rescue them from the hands of their enemies.”  With regard to this, I think of the hundreds of our sisters and brothers, women, men and children trying to flee from violence in the Middle East.  A group that our parish has recently supported financially to help with caring for these struggling people is the International Rescue Committee—our board has committed $500.00 to this cause.

James adds some wisdom to this discussion that truly must come from above when he states that such acting, considered, “wisdom from above, works for peace.”  And peace is what we truly hope for!–a peace that comes about because everyone has an opportunity to be at the bigger table, where we consider the needs of all.  With regard  to this; I recently got an email asking me to request President Obama to use an executive order to act on the petition of Citizens United to end unlimited, anonymous campaign funding that helps to buy elections.

Friends, so many things call our attention—so many needs; but let’s keep asking our brother Jesus to show us the way—what should I do? What one thing could make a difference in my life to make me a more feeling, considerate, gentle and giving person?  If each week we tried to be conscious of one thing we could do—each one of us, I believe our world would come closer to living with wisdom and bringing about peace—peace for all.

One example in closing: this week I was going through our photos from Alaska and Canada trying to put together a sampling of all the beauty we saw in this experience—if you are on Facebook, you can see these selections on my personal page.  If not, some tangible pictures will be forthcoming hopefully, soon!  As I once again became aware of all the amazing sights we experienced, it gave me a whole new appreciation of God who put all this into motion.  So my suggestion for this week to make us a gentler people, less able to commit to war, more willing to work for peace, is to notice the beauty in nature around you; your flower garden, a special tree, a sunrise, sunset, the smile of your child, grandchild and become aware again that all of creation is given us by our God to share and enhance all of our lives.  Amen? Amen!

As I continue to re-group since our epic trip to Alaska and to reflect on the state of retirement and all that it means to and for me; I find the gospel for this Sunday’s Mass very helpful.  Jesus asks his closest companions to tell him who they think he is.  They have lived with him for three years, have watched him minister to others—to them, preach the Word and now, he basically wants to know, do they get it? Has he made any difference to them, to the world? I think as a person looks back on their life, having lived the greater portion of it; there comes the thought, “Have I been faithful to God’s gifts—have I been a true follower—have I lived for others, as well as for myself?—have I basically done good and not bad in my life thus far?”  And then for me personally, looking at retirement and what that means, “What comes next?”  “Is there anything else I should be doing, or should I be doing what I already am doing, only better?”

For Jesus, the questions were perhaps more urgent as he probably, instinctively sensed that his time in this life was short.  I believe that most of us grew up in the faith believing that Jesus had all the answers, knew exactly what lay in store for him, but present day scholarship tells us that he probably had to learn as we do, little by little, what his divine call was and then act upon it.

His question to his disciples near the end of his life is a very human one—has my life made the difference that I, that God wanted it to make?  Who do people—who do you say that I am?  The first part of the question is easier to answer than the second.  Relating what others are saying and believing is one thing, but then to speak, out loud, what is in our own hearts is quite another thing! Who is Jesusfor us?

In preparation for this homily, I spent time with a small volume by Jesuit, William Barry, entitled, Who Do You Say I Am?–Meeting the Historical Jesus in Prayer.  His  thesis is basically that the more that we can get into the humanity of Jesus—what was he thinking and feeling in any given situation, the more we will come to understand, know and love this human brother who lived so perfectly as well, the divinity of God.

An added tool that Barry used in this book of almost twenty years ago to help himself and us to answer Jesus’ question is to pray and to have his readers pray before each section of text asking Jesus to help us know what was in his heart and mind at this point so as to grow closer to him and love him more.

I think most of us would agree that the relationships that we truly invest in during our lifetimes with people we say we have come to know and respect, eventually, to love, are the ones that mean the most to us.  Barry is suggesting just this—not that we settle for simply saying, “We take it all on faith,” as he did for much of his life, as many of us probably did, and perhaps, still do.  He is asking us to truly engage the Scriptures—read them and re-read them—let them soak in, challenge us on a purely, human level.  What was on Jesus’ heart, in his mind when he asked his closest friends on this earth to tell him who they believed him to be?

I began this homily with my own quest asking what my life means to me now at 65+ years having lived the greater portion of it,  reflecting on what has been and what will yet be and then relating the questions to Jesus’ search at the end of his life. We find often that the Spirit works through our purely human questions and gives guidance, often through others, about the path we have chosen, the way we should go.

In today’s gospel the Spirit encourages Peter, in his usual impetuousness to affirm Jesus’ mission among them—“You are the Messiah!” Some texts say, “You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God.” Messiah means Christ, the anointed One—the One we have expected for so long.  Now we know that Peter is being prompted by the Spirit because of his statement later on in this same gospel basically asking Jesus not to continue in his mission of being the messiah if it means his death—he clearly didn’t know what he was saying in his proclamation of faith earlier—to be the messiah carries with it, suffering.  Even our first reading from Isaiah lets us know what the messiah will have to undergo.  Peter, as well as most people living in Jesus’ time romantically thought of the messiah as one who would come to rescue and save them from all their foes.

On some level Jesus must have believed this of himself—that he was the messiah; at the very least, he was aware that God, his Abba had called him to a special mission. But Jesus, like us, was human, complete with doubts when he was tired and frustrated with the day in and day out struggles of leading a sometimes, obstinate people.     We think of another time in Scripture when Jesus wept over Jerusalem, that for all his years among them, his teaching, preaching, the gift of his very life for them; they still didn’t get it.

It is good for us to remember that Jesus’ life was a series of radical choices that were very counter-culture for his time.  He apparently chose not to marry, something that would have set him apart from his peers, even brought ridicule from family and friends.  Scholars, such as John Meier in his seminal work, A Marginal Jew: Rethinking the Historical  Jesus  say that Jesus believed the end times to be very close, so to take a wife and have children, would not have made sense to him with that frame of mind. But even so, how often did he perhaps wish to be purely human and enjoy the companionship and love of a wife and the children the two of them would create?

Jesus also made the decision to leave home and family, another radical choice for his time and culture as family was considered so important—a sign really of one’s place on earth.  And then came his teachings that were really geared toward society taking care of the least among us—a position that challenged the powers of his time about not doing their part to alleviate the suffering.

So friends, I believe we should come to Jesus’ question here to his first followers, to us, with a full mind and heart geared at coming to understand him as best we can, in his full humanity, because it is there that we will better be able to know and love him in his divinity. We are all, as someone wise once said, “Divine creatures here, having a human experience.”  I believe we can best understand our brother Jesus if we stay rooted in the gift of our God-given humanity and like Jesus, strive to live this existence to the fullest uplifting the divine nature that we all possess through not faith, but action as James teaches today.  And then answering Jesus’ question becomes easier and loving him a most assured end result.

As I looked forward to our trek to Alaska and contemplated the grace of seven weeks to do that; I relished the notion mostly of unencumbered time away, with no huge responsibilities so as to settle in to what retirement would or could mean to me, having just passed that milestone.  My travel partner Robert, and I saw many wonderful sights—from high, cascading mountains, glaciers and falls, to beautiful wild flowers all across this vast land. We were treated to whales, bears, seals and marmots. It seemed that on many of the Sundays that we were away; we were gifted with the most beautiful drives through landscapes that almost took our breath away! As Robert became fond of saying, “You just have to suck it up,” to which I responded, “I think it is, soak it up, dear!”

We are indebted to Dick Dahl for the gift of this time away and for his wonderful pastoring of the parish. A big thank you goes to Jo Hittner for planning and leading the music, to the board, and to each of you for all the unseen work that was done in our absence. We are so grateful!

Part of what I tried to focus on in our days of travel was to be present to whatever I was doing, present to wherever I was, on any given day.  We have all experienced being physically present, but actually are mentally elsewhere planning for what is coming next.  So, as Jim Elliot says so well, “Wherever you are, be all there!”

A “companion” of sorts that I took with me on this trip was a travel journal, complete with good quotes from the famous and not-so-famous, about travel; the above being one from a not-so-famous person. I also took four books that I wanted to read and read none of them, but did read two that came to me from a close friend we visited along the way. Part of “being present” I’m learning is leaving the agenda and allowing something else to happen.

One of the books was great in encouraging this practice—The Barn at the End of the World, by Mary Rose O’Reilly, a story of a woman who decided to give a year of her life living and working on a sheep ranch, to learn what she could about caring for sheep.  Of course, what she learned was more about herself as is always the case in such ventures.  During the year she gave to being a sheep intern; she took a month off for a Buddhist retreat as she wanted to deal with her innate tendency toward anger in response to life’s injustices and irritations, as she saw them.

Having come originally out of a Catholic background, even doing a stint in the convent, set her up already for feeling a certain amount of anger, but she found that many of those joining her for the Buddhist retreat, angered her in new ways over stupid things, in her mind, that they focused their time and energy on. Some of the retreatants were very into themselves and their own needs not seeing the needs of others while others felt giving up all earthly pleasures was the way to go. Retreatants were expected to share a room with one other person, and as you might guess, this could be rather annoying depending on who the roommate was.

The best advice she received in calming her anger came from a mentor who basically told her to “slow down” and try to decide how important something really is and if it is worth all the upset—what perhaps might she do to improve the situation?

The second book, Slow Love, by Dominique Browning is the story of a woman whose job ended unexpectedly due to the economy and the journey she then made into herself to find who she really was aside from what others expected from her—what did she really want from her life? Having not chosen to quit the work-a-day world, but having that thrust upon her, threw her into a depression where she questioned her own self-worth. Because the country was experiencing an economic downturn, her savings were hard hit too as an added complication. She had experienced a divorce in the past and her present relationship which had stretched over a ten-year period was clearly dysfunctional she was realizing. It seemed to be always about what he needed and wanted, never about her needs and wants. She realized as she struggled through all these losses that her life had been often, too often defined by others, thinking almost unconsciously that if everyone else’s needs got met, hers would too.

Both women in the two books learned as the Buddhist tradition teaches that they needed to slow down and be present to what was happening all around them—ask the important questions about how does this action, lifestyle that I am part of really, truly, affect my life and the lives of others? Does my life bring joy in the actions of my days?–and is there enough run-over to bring joy to others?

Mary Rose O’Reilly found that caring for animal life spilled over into caring for human life and being present to each situation helped with her impulsive tendency toward anger because she then understood others better—where they were coming from.

Dominique Browning found that “slowing down,” something she may not have done had she not lost her job opened up a whole new world for her.  In addition to losing work and a relationship, she also experienced cancer.  All of the above let her know in very clear terms that life is fragile, short—but also, sweet.  She discovered music once again at her piano, the beauty of the outdoors, on the water and in her garden.

As I said earlier, this seven weeks for Robert and I afforded us the time to again, slow down and just appreciate life—ours and others. In order to get to all the places and people that we wanted to see, some days we had to travel  more, some days the traveling was done for us—by boat or train, so we could rest more.  Sometimes we took the opportunity to stay put for a few days and just relax.  We said many times that this was an epic journey, once in a lifetime and it taught us much about all that is most important to us and what we want to spend our days going forward, doing.

The Scriptures for this week call us to just such introspection.  We must face life and what it brings with clear eyes and open hearts, James teaches.  We must treat all people equally, he continues, seeing them all as beloved by our God.

Our brother Jesus is our model as he brings healing to a deaf mute through what is perfectly human—touch, saliva, his words. Sometimes I think we believe that there is little we can do in our world to make a difference against all that is wrong.  A better thing to do it seems would be to focus on all that is right and move on from there using what each of us is gifted with, our humanity—to make the changes needed for our country, our world and its people.  We have tough issues to face it is true—just listening to the news since returning home, something we tried not to do while away, all the problems were not fixed in our absence.

The prophet Isaiah proclaims that we should not fear, even so, because our God is with us. As we traveled through our beautiful 49^th state of Alaska and experienced its vastness, we came, once again to realize the greatness of our God that put this all into motion—all this that one can only call, grandeur!

Each of us has been gifted a share in this grandeur through our lives on earth.  We might pray with the prophet Isaiah today that our eyes would be opened, our deaf ears cleared, our tongues freed so that we can do all in our power to make life good for ourselves and others, and it must be both, not one or the other as the stories I shared with you today indicated—life and it’s goodness is for us and for others, as our God intended.

The troubles that plague our world and its people are within our abilities to fix—we must simply be present to them—find the balance between our own needs and the needs of all on our beautiful planet. When we strive to be our best selves, also as God intended, one action at a time, great things are possible! We shouldn’t forget that Jesus, our brother promised that we would do greater things than he.  And when this all happens, the streams will burst in the desert, burning sands will become pools and thirsty ground, pools of water.  Things we thought impossible, will become possible!

As I contemplate the grandeur of the mountains, oceans, glaciers—beautiful creatures in the seas and on the land; I know the One who put all this in motion will be our strength too!  Amen? Amen!

(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.