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.

 

 

 

 

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!

 

Friends, I think today, as we look at our readings; we could conclude that they teach us mercy and that is no better depicted than in the familiar story of the prodigal son.  The story should really be called the “prodigal father,” because that emphasis is what makes the story so astounding.

This father (picture, God) demonstrates over-the-top love for the one who has turned his back, left and squandered his life.  And yet, none of that matters to this prodigal parent.  All that matters is that this lost one found the way back.  Our hearts can hardly not, go out with mercy and compassion and run with the parent to meet and greet the lost child.  None of it matters, what was done, what was squandered, only that the child has returned.  We see a parent here who is as “prodigal” in bestowing love as the child was “prodigal” in turning away from all that life had given.

It is perhaps good for us to try and see the reaction of this parent through his 1^st Century eyes.  We must remember that family was everything and one’s inheritance came once the parent was dead. For this son to ask for it ahead of time, was really an insult to his father—the fact that he couldn’t wait until the proper time.  And then to further go off and squander it was a double insult.  By these actions, he not only turns his back on his father and his family, but on the community that he was a part of.

I learned more of the background story to this beautiful display of parental love when I was still working with the seniors at Lake Winona Manor—I’ve shared this in the past, but it bears repeating. Apparently part of the reason that the father ran to meet his son, besides loving him and being so happy that he returned, was to arrive before the town’s people met the boy at the city gates and denounced him for his actions to his father and to the community’s way of life.  This denouncement came in a ritualistic way.  A group of town’s people met the returning person at the city’s gates, dropping a clay pot at the person’s feet—shattering it, which indicated that the relationship was broken between that person and the community.  The prodigal dad, not wanting this to happen; runs to meet his son, and bestows everything on him that the community was ready to take away.  Even his action of running meant that he would have to raise his tunic, showing his legs; which was also against custom, basically shaming himself in order that his son would not be shamed.

As we reflect then on this prodigal parent and the fact that it seems there is an inability to show anything but love and mercy, we are called up short at the representation of God in the reading from Exodus.  This God is ready to torch the Israelites for once more proving their unfaithfulness.  It is Moses who has to calm God down—he even asks, “Why should your wrath flare up against your own people?” Looking back again to the gospel from Luke, we see the opposite and some people find it hard at times, including the older brother, to understand such “wasteful” love for one who seems so clearly not to deserve it.

I raise the apparent different images of God for our reflection because they don’t seem to coincide.  We have often heard that Jesus came to fulfill the law and the prophets; to perhaps set straight, some of the discrepancies about God and God’s place and relationship with our world and its people.  In this reading today from Exodus, Moses almost seems more god-like in mercy than God does.  It might be that Moses,  who is supposed to have written these early First Testament books, was trying to make up for what he does in the next scene that we didn’t read here today.  Upon seeing his people dancing around a golden calf to worship, Moses throws the stone tablets to the ground in anger, destroying them.  He is now on a par with his God’s anger!

Albino Luciano—Pope John Paul I, a pope that we had for too short a time, only 33 days, did not like the theology of Moses or the God of Moses.  He felt that the God of Moses was and is responsible for all the religious wars ever fought, for all the violence perpetrated against women, gays and lesbians, and the lack of charity and mercy toward the “lepers”/the downcast in our societies.  This kind of violence toward others is given license in the theology of Moses—the killing and raping of innocent peoples in order to take the Promised Land.  John Paul I had a great deal of trouble with the God of Moses and saw the discrepancies between this God and the Prodigal God of Love depicted in Luke today.

Let us shift then to this God that Jesus talks about.  Again we see the need for Jesus, God incarnate, becoming one of us.  We hadn’t quite got the message that we are loved abundantly; Moses apparently didn’t translate the message too well about who God was to end up with two readings, one from the First Testament and another from the Second Testament that show us such a different face of God with the two really so opposed to each other in style.

I believe the part we must not lose sight of is that God’s ways are not our ways. This becomes crystal clear in the reading from Luke where we see the image of God in the Prodigal Parent—one who is almost maddeningly merciful and understanding. We humans tend to want people to get what they deserve—if people have been bad; we want to see them be punished.  And likewise, if a person has done something noteworthy, reward is in order, we feel.  We all had cause to reflect on this tendency of retribution this past week when the rapist and murderer of Jacob Wetterling was finally exposed.   This human quality was even raised up in defense of Moses’ God wanting to torch the Israelites for their unfaithfulness in some of the exegesis that I read in preparation for this homily.  The exegete said, “The wrath of God’s fury blazed against them.  And who would blame God for destroying them?” The God of Luke—the Prodigal Parent would not have agreed with such an action.  God’s ways are not our ways!  Thank God this is so!

This long gospel today gave us several images, faces, if you will, of our loving God—each different, yet each showing us a God who loves us deeply, and is never inconvenienced by our needs.  First we see the shepherd who will leave the 99 and go in search of the one who is lost.  The woman who turns her house upside-down looking for the lost coin (both, by the way—legitimate images of God) and finally, as we already discussed, the exquisite story of the Prodigal Parent who continues to wait and pray that the lost one will return and when it finally happens, runs to embrace him/her and throws a party to celebrate.  In my work as a chaplain, it was this over-the-top, God of love that I always tried to have the people I met with, especially those in the Department of Behavioral Medicine recognize as the One who wants them to come back, to check in again, and know that they too are loved and cared about.

Paul, in his letter to Timothy expounds on the love of this God.  He is totally aware that he deserves the worst punishment—the wrath of Moses’ God, yet he received love, from Luke’s God—only love, and is challenged by Jesus to go out and share the love that he has been so freely given, with others.

One final point that we need to remember friends—our readings today are not just about becoming aware of God’s great love, mercy and acceptance of each of us; but coming to the realization that each of us must move past recriminations and a need to exact punishment toward seeing as God sees.

I am presently reading a biography of Archbishop Raymond Hunthausen, who pastored the people of Seattle, WA from 1975 to 1991. He was known for his generosity and goodness as a person, but most significantly for taking on the U.S. presidency in the person of Ronald Reagan, the Catholic Church hierarchy in the person of Pope John Paul II and the government of the United States.

All this was done because the good bishop was following his conscience by calling attention to our country’s nuclear build-up through the Trident submarine system.  In the early days of this build-up, there was a real threat that the Soviets would attempt to keep pace with the United States and the result could have been annihilation of the world as we know it.

Hunthausen struggled with his conscience over this issue. He had attended all four sessions of Vatican II and as this council forever changed our Church, it forever changed this pastor—he had to go public with what his faith and conscience were telling him—he had to do the right, albeit hard thing. He spoke publicly challenging that our country needed to turn from this proliferation of nuclear weaponry—he even challenged Catholics who worked in plants putting together warheads to give up these jobs. He then advocated for civil disobedience by asking people to refuse half of their taxes that would go toward this nuclear buildup, beginning with himself. You can imagine that he wasn’t popular among everyone, even though he did receive much support.

My friends, we are challenged to see as God does that each person’s action in the now is a composite of so much more that we don’t see that has gone into making them who they are.  We know this is true in our own case as it was true for Raymond Hunthausen.  He was a man of the Church—but at a certain point, his conscience, his faith, called him to become a true man of God.

Let us pray together today that we might grow bigger hearts, wider minds, eyes that can see more deeply, ears that can hear more intently the stories of our brothers and sisters in God’s world.  Let us work toward peaceful resolutions to strife in our world—let us strive to understand what causes unrest among people and look for real solutions.

My friends, it would seem that the time has come to face our world and its problems with the prodigality of our God that looks beyond the hurt done to see the heart of individuals and the good that they are capable of.  We must grow beyond the easier answer of, “an eye for an eye” and choose the answers of diplomacy, communication, peace and ultimately, love.  As we have often said, “Love is the hardest lesson,” but it is the only one which truly sets us free.  Amen? Amen!

My friends, this week, once again, we are called to humility through our readings from Wisdom literature, from Paul and from Jesus.  We are also called to seek out wisdom through our religious traditions in order that we might live our lives in a more wholesome and unified way.  Each of us has grown up learning to be obedient—to follow rules our parents gave us to keep us safe—“don’t play in traffic;  rules the Church gave us to guide our religious upbringing—the Ten Commandments.

When we were children, the rules gave order to our lives and we learned that it was better to obey than not, because there were consequences if we didn’t.  As adults, we continue to obey, because there are still consequences if we choose not to, but with more maturity, we begin to question and to reason—“is this the best thing for me to do? Who is helped by my action? Is the world any better because of what I am doing?  Is this action just about me or someone else’s selfishness?”  Rules of wisdom and further commitment—the Beatitudes and the two Great Commandments guide us in addition.

There are so many choices in our current society—sometimes our decisions are simple to make and it really doesn’t matter—other times much comes into play and we simply have to decide using some of the questions that I posed earlier.  Does this action hurt or harm others?  Is this action ultimately about love?

In the reading from Philemon today, we get a good example of this.  Paul is posing a moral question to Philemon, who is a slave-holder.  Onesimus, the slave mentioned but not named in this reading, has run away and has found an advocate for his cause in Paul, who tells Philemon that the decision is his to make, but he appeals to the baptism that joins him and Onesimus.  He asks Philemon to see Onesimus, no longer as a slave, but as a brother.  And Paul will not demand this of Philemon, but as he says, “I prefer to appeal in the name of love.” When we act out of true love, we can never really go wrong.  And this doesn’t mean that we necessarily choose the easy way—true love calls us to make hard decisions at times.

The society of Philemon’s day said that slave-holding was acceptable, but his baptism in Jesus, says the opposite; so Philemon must decide—what is the right thing to do?  And the question is ours to ponder too—what effect do my actions have on the greater world? What in effect does Jesus ask of me?  Paul asks Philemon to welcome Onesimus as he would welcome Paul—basically to consider Onesimus, the slave, as equal to himself and to Paul because of his baptism into Jesus, the Christ.  And we shouldn’t be surprised by this as this is the same Paul who also said, “There is neither Jew nor Greek, male nor female”—all are one. Each of us friends, face like questions in our day-to-day living. Who is helped, who is harmed by my decision—often it is not a clean, clear decision.

We have all been taught to respect the law and those who enforce it, but we have seen a rash of killings recently perpetrated by police who are supposed to protect, but instead appear to be ready to kill without question if the suspect is black.  A recent example is telling.  A young black boy was chasing a ball and found himself pursued by policemen who apparently thought he was up to no good.  A contingent group of neighbors who saw what was happening surrounded the boy shouting, “Don’t shoot, he’s just a boy!”  And the boy, what could have been going through his mind?—probably his young life flashed before him.  Thankfully he had some concerned others who stood up for him!

Jesus’ words are equally challenging for us today.  This particular gospel is always a hard one for people to get their hearts around.  I say, “hearts,” because we can many times rationalize our actions to do something that our hearts won’t allow if we are tuned in.  Can Jesus actually be asking me to turn my back on my family as a result of being his follower?  That seems very harsh and who can actually, literally, do this?

I believe we have to come at this gospel from a couple different sides, as we do with many of Jesus words, always remembering that his words are multi-layered.  First we have to understand how the people of his time would have heard his words.  One’s family was everything to them—their lifeline really, in connection with the larger world. It was your family who stood by you, no matter what—these were your people and this meant something.  This was especially true for women and children as we have discussed before.

Today our connections to our immediate families may be strong, but they generally aren’t a person’s only lifeline in the greater world. So how are we to look at Jesus’ words?  Are we literally being called to turn our backs on our parents and family members in order to follow Jesus?   The Scripture seems to be saying, “As a Christian, we give up forever our right to choose who we can love.”

Our decisions to love the one that nobody loves may come between us and our family, but Jesus’ message to us is clear—as much as we may love and care for our families, we must as Jesus’ followers ultimately do the loving thing, at times speak truth to the lie that some are not acceptable, are not good enough, even if that runs counter to our familial relationships.

The writer of the Wisdom selection for today’s liturgy says it a bit differently, but seems to point up the fact that we cannot know the mind of God.  We do know though from everything that Jesus says elsewhere about loving our neighbor as ourselves, that he doesn’t want us to turn our backs on our loved ones.  I believe what Jesus is trying to tell us as we care for family, friends and others is that we remember that our actions must resemble his in order to truly be his followers.

The CBS nightly news carried a very poignant story in this regard this past week. A group of college football players visited Montford Middle School in Tallahassee, FL to share some time and pizza with the students there. Wide receiver, Travis Rudolph sat down next to a student who was sitting alone. Turned out that 6^th grader, Bo Paske often sits alone as he lives with autism and most of his classmates choose not to sit with him. Travis Rudolph found him to be, in his words, “a cool person” and said he would “sit with him any time.” Bo’s mom was overjoyed because it breaks her heart to see her son being treated this way by his classmates and all because they haven’t gotten to know the boy she knows and loves. Rudolph had no idea that his seemingly small action would mean so much.  Often this is true for us as well—it’s not always the big things, but the ordinary, day-to-day kindnesses and gestures that mean so much.

We don’t always follow the wisdom writer in all of our decisions—sometimes we choose out of selfishness and greed—“this will make me look good in others’ eyes,”  instead of just doing it because it is the right thing to do. Sometimes we act out of our own personal need to be loved. Sometimes we act out of ignorance—helping when it might be better to hold back, and we enable bad behavior by giving someone something they needed to earn on their own.  Sometimes we act out of arrogance thinking we know what is best for someone, when ultimately, only God knows.  We don’t as humans always choose wisely; that is why it is so important to keep our eyes on Jesus.

These are hard sayings, no getting around it! Wisdom today says well, I believe, what we feel from time to time:  “For a perishable body presses down on my soul, and a clay house weighs down the restless mind.”  All of our human weaknesses as described above, our selfishness, ignorance and arrogance get in the way of our ability to truly do the loving thing at times. Those of you in our community who have lost loved ones know too of how this “clay house” of our bodies can weigh one down.  Those who struggle in this world with mental illness, with poverty, with people shunning them for one reason or another know the press of the perishable body and the “clay house” that can weigh us down.”

So, my friends, I would invite each of us to walk in humility with our God in order that we would understand that which is needed to live our lives well, always keeping our eyes on Jesus who shows us the way.  He asks nothing of us that he didn’t ask of himself.  So, let us strive to be people of truth, mercy, justice, love and care in regard to ourselves, others and our world.  We must ultimately never let anything or anyone get in the way of fully following Jesus.  I believe this is what he truly meant when he said, “if you can’t turn your back on mother, brothers, sisters; you can’t be my followers.  God bless us all in this endeavor as we cry out with the psalmist today:  Make us realize the shortness of life—in every age O God, you have been our refuge.  Amen? Amen!