Sunday, August 18, 2013

How to start a fire...

          Well, it's been a crazy weekend so far (and it isn't over yet!).  Confessions, wedding, baptisms, and catechism... I continually find it amazing that I'm constantly moving in and out of peoples' lives.  What a blessing for me!  I don't know if any one felt that way, but I hoped this week's homily would be a little challenging to people.  If you have any feedback, I'll take it!

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Homily: 20th Sunday of Ordinary Time – Cycle C
          A few weeks ago, I spent some time with my niece and nephew and we watched the animated film, The Lorax.  It is based on the Dr. Seuss children’s book of the same name and chronicles the story of a young boy who visits a strange isolated man at the edge of town who purportedly can explain why the area is in such a run-down state.  The man, named the Once-ler, explains by way of flashback how he came to this once pristine land full of blissful animals and beautiful trees and began to use the “tufts” of the trees to make a product—Thneeds—through which he would make his fortune.
          As the first tree was cut down, he remembers, a mythical figure appeared: the Lorax, the protector of the forest.  Instead of being some great, powerful being that will destroy by force any threat to the forest, the Lorax appears as a prophet (now, before you think “bor-ing” remember, this is a Dr. Seuss book).  Thus, he confronts the Once-ler about his actions and then warns him of the dire consequences that will result if he continues to march forward with his plan unabated.  The Once-ler, surprised that this strange, mythical creature hasn’t invoked any supernatural powers to stop him, ignores him completely and presses forward with his plan: eventually destroying the forest (and, thus, the habitat for all of the blissful animals who lived there) and leaving the land desolate.
          In many ways, the Lorax is not unlike many of the ancient prophets of Israel, including Jeremiah.  These prophets were men chosen by God to speak the truth about current events and to announce the consequences of continuing to pursue particular courses of action.  In the case of Jeremiah, he was called by God at the time when the people of Judah had fallen away from following the Mosaic Law.  At first, he called for repentance and predicted that if the king and the people did not change their ways that God’s protection would leave them and that they would thus be subject to being conquered by neighboring nations.
          In the reading we heard from the Book of Jeremiah today, we see those consequences being played out.  Jeremiah’s prophecies went unheeded by King Zedekiah and Jerusalem, thus, was under siege and losing the battle.  Jeremiah continued to prophesy, however, saying that the city would be overthrown unless the king and all the people would repent and turn back to the Lord.  The princes of Judah refused to hear him any longer and so they came to the king asking to be allowed to dispatch him.  The king succumbed to their wishes and left him in their hands.  It was only through the hands of a foreigner, Ebed-melech, that Jeremiah was saved from death in the cistern.  Thus we see that prophets, and their prophesies, are meant to make us uncomfortable.
          In today’s Gospel reading, Jesus is claiming his role as a prophet.  He states in no uncertain terms that he has come to make us uncomfortable.  In fact, he’s come to “set the world on fire”!  Here we see that Jesus is more than a prophet: that is, a passive voice that speaks God’s truths and then leaves the consequences to the choices of those to whom he speaks.  His is an active voice that will challenge his hearers and force them to choose: either to repent and to follow him or to turn defiantly and definitively against him.
          His message, that he has come to establish division, instead of peace, makes us uncomfortable, because we want to believe that Jesus just wants us to be nice and to get along with each other.  Yet, his prophesy that households will become divided—that father will be divided against son and son against father; mother against daughter and daughter against mother—is still very relevant for us today as we see it being played out in our own families.  The challenge of Jesus is so strong that one has to choose either to follow or to turn away and, sadly, we see many families that have become divided and separated because of this.
          Saint Bernard of Clairvaux, a great abbot of the 12th century, wrote to one of his monks who had just been elected to be the pope in order to warn him not to become so accustomed to the hectic schedule demanded of him as the Bishop of Rome that he should become callous and unreflective.  In it he said: I am afraid that you will despair of an end to the many demands that are made upon you and become calloused and gradually suppress your sense of just and useful pain.  It would be much wiser to remove yourself from these demands even for a while, than to allow yourself to be distracted by them and led, little by little, where you certainly do not want to go.  Where?  To a hard heart.  Do not go on to ask what that is; if you have not been terrified by it, it is yours already.  A hard heart is precisely one which does not shudder at itself because it is insensitive…
          My brothers and sisters, if Jesus’ words today do not cause us some discomfort then perhaps we, too, have allowed our hearts to become hardened.  Maybe it is through our negligence as we allow the daily demands of our hectic schedules—the demands that world places on us—to gradually desensitize us from being stung by Jesus’ challenge to radical discipleship.  Or maybe our sin, like the greed of the Once-ler and the pride of King Zedekiah, hardened our hearts long ago so that we now despair of ever feeling true contrition once again.  Whatever the case may be, our call today is to acknowledge the state of our hearts, and, thus, our discipleship, and to recognize the call of the prophets to turn back to the Lord who, as the Psalmist says, “will draw us out of the pit of destruction to set our feet on secure ground.”
          Friends, I believe that Pope Benedict called for this Year of Faith and for a renewed focus on the New Evangelization because he saw Jesus calling out to us today using these same words that we heard in the Gospel reading: “I have come to set the earth on fire, and how I wish it were already blazing!”  This Year of Faith has been a call to us to shatter our hardened hearts and to return to the faith of the Church; and then to turn out and to set that flame of faith loose on the world so that the fire of Christ’s love will consume it entirely.
          Saint Catherine of Siena once said, “Be who God meant you to be and you will set the world on fire!”  My brothers and sisters, God has called us to be prophets and evangelists who will set the world on fire for Christ.  But we cannot do this if we are clinging to our comfortable lives or to maintaining a “false peace” with our family members, friends, and neighbors who obstinately refuse to follow the truth.  We can only do it if we ourselves become living flames of faith by “ridding ourselves of every burden of sin and persevering in running the race that lies before us while keeping our eyes on Jesus,” as the author to the Letter to the Hebrews exhorts us to do today.
          Therefore, let us take courage.  For that same author also reminds us that “for the sake of the joy that lay before him [Jesus] endured the cross, despising its shame, and has taken his seat at the right of the throne of God.”  With his witness and with the witness of all the saints that have gone before us (the great “cloud of witnesses” spoken of in the second reading), we too can endure in our struggle against sin, even to the point of shedding our own blood.  For the promise of glory—the promise that is renewed for us every day on this altar—is already ours.

Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – August 17th & 18th, 2013

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