Monday, October 27, 2014

Obedecer la ley y serás libre

          Es un mito de la cultura moderna que la libertad es estar completamente sin obstáculos por cualquier cosa (las leyes, la moral, las normas culturales, etc.). En otras palabras, sólo la anarquía podría garantizar la libertad perfecta. Nuestra fe, sin embargo, reconoce que hay un orden natural y que la verdadera libertad viene cuando nos alineamos nuestros deseos con ese orden. Así como la música, con el fin de ser la música, debe obedecer el orden natural de la armonía con el fin de expresarse libremente, pues también las personas humanas deben obedecer el orden natural del amor - el amor de Dios y amor al prójimo - con el fin de ser verdaderamente humano , y por lo tanto para ser verdaderamente libre.

"Ame, y haz lo que quieras." 
~ San Agustín

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Homilía: 30ª Domingo del Tiempo Ordinario – Ciclo A
          Si yo les hice la pregunta, "¿Qué es la música?", ¿Cuántos de ustedes piensan que podrían darme una respuesta de una sola frase? Ahora, no me refiero a “¿qué instrumentos hacen la música?” O "¿qué estilo de música le gusta más?", sino "¿qué es la música?" Tal vez no es inmediatamente evidente, pero si ustedes pensaban en esto por un poco me imagino que cada uno de ustedes puede llegar a una respuesta. Cuando hice esto mi respuesta fue que "la música es una colección de sonidos, armoniosamente organizados de tal manera para que sea estéticamente agradable y / o emocionalmente expresiva." Teniendo en cuenta esta definición, podemos ver que hay una ley que rige sí o no algo es la música; y esa ley es la armonía.
          Supongamos que recojo una guitarra o sentarme en un piano y empiezo a rasguear las cuerdas o pulse las teclas para producir sonidos de estos instrumentos de música. Si nunca he tenido una lección de cómo tocar estos instrumentos, ¿hay alguna posibilidad de que yo realmente estaré haciendo música? Ciertamente estaré produciendo una colección de sonidos, pero es improbable que esos sonidos se organizarán en armonía; y por eso lo que estaría produciendo sería el ruido, no la música.
          Si sigo en ello, sin embargo, y si empiezo a aprender a leer partituras, entonces voy a empezar a ser capaz de tocar música. Si todo lo que hago, sin embargo, es aprender cómo producir esas notas en la página utilizando el instrumento que estoy tocando, yo nunca realmente hacer música; Yo sólo estaré reproduciendo música que otros han hecho. Si quiero tener la libertad de hacer música, sin embargo, tengo que aprender teoría de la música: es decir, tengo que aprender cuales tonos de sonido se complementan entre sí y así aprenden cómo organizar los sonidos que yo produzco en el instrumento que estoy tocando armoniosamente. En otras palabras, tengo que aprender la ley de la armonía, y luego, debo obedecerla.
          En nuestra lectura del Evangelio de hoy, Jesús se enfrenta a los fariseos, los doctores de la Ley, para pedirle que dar prioridad a los seiscientos trece preceptos de la ley judía y decirles cuál de las leyes era el más grande. Eran expertos en la ley y cómo someterse a ella, y se enorgullecían en mostrar ese hecho. En otras palabras, ellos sabían bien cómo reproducir las notas en la página. En su defensa, tomaron muy en serio la Ley como mandatos de Dios por la forma de honrarlo y vivir correctamente y por lo tanto, por respeto a Dios, eran meticulosos en sus esfuerzos para seguirlos. Pero ellos no tienen una comprensión de la "teoría de la música" que subyace: es decir, que no entendían que estos mandamientos fueron productos de una mayor ley que rige las interacciones con Dios y con los demás a fin de producir la "música", es decir, la armonía entre Dios, ellos, y otros. Para ellos, las leyes eran como las notas de una página: de la que no hay que desviarse. Ellos no entendieron la ley subyacente de la que se produjeron las leyes particulares, y por lo que no eran libres de producir algo nuevo: una "armonía" de la vida recta que tal vez no se había producido antes.
          La respuesta de Jesús les revela esta ley subyacente que se estaban perdiendo. Al igual que la armonía es la ley que da a una persona la libertad de producir música, Jesús llama el amor como la ley que da a una persona la libertad de vivir en relación con Dios y su prójimo. Y así, Jesús le dice a este doctor de la ley que para amar a Dios con todo su ser es el más grande y el primer mandamiento; y que el segundo es para amar a tu prójimo no menos de lo que amarse a sí mismo. Todo lo demás, Jesús implica, es decir, todos los seiscientos trece preceptos de la ley, son simplemente herramientas y técnicas, es decir, los arreglos particulares de notas en una página, para el cumplimiento de este mandamiento del amor.
          Y así, mis hermanos y hermanas, vemos que la obediencia a la ley del amor nos da la libertad, ya que transforma una incapacidad en una capacidad. Voy a tratar de explicar cómo. El Doctor Martin Luther King, explicó la parábola del Buen Samaritano de este modo: dijo que el fracaso del sacerdote y el levita fue que se encontraron con el hombre en la miseria y se centraron en esta pregunta: "¿qué me sucederá si le ayudará?" El samaritano, sin embargo, vio al hombre y en su lugar hizo esta pregunta:" ¿qué va a pasar con él si no le ayudo?" En otras palabras, el sacerdote y el levita dijo "yo no lo puedo ayudar, porque la ley me impide hacerlo", mientras que la samaritana dijo "Yo puedo ayudarlo, de hecho, tengo que ayudarlo, porque la ley del amor al prójimo me obliga a hacerlo." El sacerdote y el levita fracasaron en el amor, porque estaban limitados por los preceptos de la ley. El samaritano, sin embargo, cumplió el amor, porque él obedeció la ley que subyace en todos los preceptos de la ley cuando lo hizo para el hombre exactamente lo que él habría hecho por sí mismo. La obediencia a la ley del amor liberado el samaritano de responder.
          Si ustedes son como yo, ustedes se sentirán como esto es muy difícil de hacer en la vida real. Mi conjetura es que cada uno de nosotros se identifica mucho más fácilmente con el sacerdote y el levita que con la samaritana. Bueno, esta es la razón por que el amor de Dios debe ser el primero. En la lectura del Éxodo, escuchamos las instrucciones de Dios a los israelitas que no son a descuidar a los más vulnerables entre ellos, extranjeros, viudas y huérfanos, porque Dios es compasivo y él intervendrá para ayudarlos. Cuando amamos a Dios, es decir, cuando nos entregamos completamente a Él, que es amor, nos damos cuenta de cuán compasiva Ha sido para nosotros; y nos damos cuenta, también, que la compasión es la única cosa que hemos carecido más. Por lo tanto estamos inspirados a tener compasión por los demás; y empezamos a darnos cuenta de que este tipo de amor realmente nos libera, porque nos mueve a responder a esos buenos deseos en nuestros corazones, para ofrecer a nosotros mismos por el bien de los demás. Por lo tanto, ya no decimos: "Yo no le va a ayudar, porque de lo que podría pasar a mí", sino más bien, "voy a ayudar, porque es lo que Dios iba a querer para él, y es lo que yo querer para a mí mismo, y esta persona se merece nada menos".
          Mis hermanos y hermanas: amar a Dios y meditar en Su amor, es decir, su compasión por nosotros, y ustedes encontrarán la libertad, es decir, la inspiración, a tener compasión por todos a su alrededor que se encuentran en necesidad. Y cuando lo hace, entonces la armonía comenzará a regresar al mundo y la ley del amor, es decir, la ley de la libertad que encontramos en Cristo Jesús, nos hará verdaderamente libres.

Dado en la parroquia Todos los Santos: Logansport, IN – 26ª de octubre, 2014

Obey the law and you'll be free

          It is a myth of modern culture that freedom is to be completely unhindered by anything (laws, morality, cultural norms, etc.).  In other words, only anarchy could guarantee perfect freedom.  Our faith, however, acknowledges that there is a natural order and that true freedom comes when we align our desires with that order.  Just as music, in order to be music, must obey the natural order of harmony in order to be expressed freely, so too must human persons obey the natural order of love - love of God and love of neighbor - in order to be truly human, and thus to be truly free.

"Love, and do what you want."
~ Saint Augustine

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Homily: 30th Sunday of Ordinary Time – Cycle A
          If I asked you all the question, “What is music?”, how many of you think you could give me a one-sentence answer?  Now, I don’t mean “what instruments make music?” or “what style of music do you like best?”, but rather “what is music?”  Perhaps it’s not immediately apparent, but if you all thought about it for a bit I imagine that each of you could come up with an answer.  My answer is that “music is a collection of sounds, harmoniously arranged in such a way so as to be aesthetically pleasing and/or emotionally expressive.”  Given this definition, we can see that there is a law that governs whether or not something is music, right?  And that law is harmony.
          Suppose that I pick up a guitar or sit down at a piano and begin to strum the strings or press the keys so as to produce sounds from these instruments of music.  If I’ve never had a lesson on how to play these instruments, is there any chance that I’ll actually be making music?  I will be producing a collection of sounds, for sure, but it’s unlikely that those sounds will be harmoniously arranged; and so what I would be producing would be noise, not music.
          If I keep at it, however, and if I begin to learn how to read sheet music, then I will begin to be able to play music.  If all I do, however, is learn how to produce those notes on the page using the instrument that I am playing, then I will never really be making music; I’ll only be reproducing music that others have made.  If I want to be free to make music, however, I need to learn music theory: that is, I need to learn which sound tones complement each other and so learn how to arrange the sounds that I produce on the instrument that I am playing harmoniously.  In other words, I have to learn the law of harmony, and then, I must obey it.
          In our Gospel reading today, Jesus is confronted by Pharisees—scholars of the Law—asking him to prioritize the 613 prescripts of Jewish law and to tell them which of the laws was the greatest.  They were experts in the law and how to obey it, and they took pride in displaying that fact.  In other words, they knew how to reproduce the notes on the page.  In their defense, they took very seriously the Law as commands from God for how to honor Him and live rightly and so, out of respect for God, they were meticulous in their efforts to follow them.  But they did not have a grasp of the underlying “music theory”: that is, they didn’t understand that these commandments were products of a greater law that governed interactions with God and with others so as to produce “music”, that is, harmony between God, them, and others.  For them, the laws were like notes on a page: not to be deviated from.  They did not understand the underlying law from which the particular laws were produced, and so they weren’t free to produce something new: a “harmony” of righteous living that perhaps hadn’t been produced before.
          Jesus’ response reveals to them this underlying law that they were missing.  Just as harmony is the law that gives a person the freedom to produce music, so Jesus names love as the law that gives a person the freedom to live in right relationship with God and his neighbor.  And so Jesus tells these scholars of the law that to love God with your whole being is the greatest and first commandment; and that the second is to love your neighbor no less than you would love yourself.  Everything else, Jesus implies, that is, all of the 613 precepts of the law, are simply tools and techniques—that is, particular arrangements of notes on a page—for fulfilling this commandment of love.
          And so, my brothers and sisters, we see that obeying the law of love gives us freedom because it transforms “I can’t” into “I can”.  Let me try to explain how.  Dr. Martin Luther King famously explained the parable of the Good Samaritan in this way: he said that the failure of the priest and the Levite was that they encountered the man in need and focused on this question: “what will happen to me if I stop and help him?”  The Samaritan, however, saw the man and instead asked this question: “what will happen to him if I do not help him?”  In other words, the priest and Levite said “I can’t help him, because the law prevents me from doing so”, while the Samaritan said “I can help him—in fact, I must help him—because the law of love of neighbor compels me to do so.”  The priest and Levite failed in love, because they were restricted by the precepts of the law.  The Samaritan, however, fulfilled love, because he obeyed the law that underlies all of the law’s precepts when he did for the man exactly what he would have done for himself had he fell victim to the robbers.  Obeying the law of love freed the Samaritan to respond.
          Now, if you’re anything like me, you’ll feel like this is really hard to do in real life.  My guess is that each of us much more readily identifies with the priest and the Levite than we do with the Samaritan.  Well, this is why love of God must be first.  In the reading from Exodus, we heard God’s instructions to the Israelites that they are not to neglect the most vulnerable among them—aliens, widows, and orphans—because God is compassionate and He will intervene to help them.  When we love God—that is, when we give ourselves over completely to Him, who is love—we come to realize just how compassionate He has been to us; and we realize, too, that compassion is the one thing that we have lacked the most.  Thus we are inspired to have compassion for others; and we begin to realize that this kind of love actually frees us, because it moves us to respond to those good desires in our hearts to offer ourselves for the good of others (however foolish it may seem at the time).  Thus, we no longer say, “I won’t help him, because of what might happen to me”, but rather, “I will help, because it is what God would will for him, and it is what I would will for myself, and this person deserves nothing less.”
          My brothers and sisters: love God, and meditate on His love, that is, His compassion for us, and you will find the freedom, that is, the inspiration, to have compassion for everyone around you that you find in need.  And when you do, then harmony will begin to return to the world and the law of love, that is, the law of freedom that we find in Christ Jesus, will make us truly free.

Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – October 26th, 2014

Sunday, October 19, 2014

We're all missionaries...

          If your life, as you live it today, was lifted up from its place and dropped down in a place like Mongolia, where the Gospel has just begun to be preached, would it witness to Jesus?  In other words, if you lived the same way that you live today in a place that knows nothing about God and about his Son Jesus, would the way you live your life be enough to show the people of that place that God exists? that he desires a personal relationship with us? that he sent his Son Jesus to save us from eternal death?  If your answer is "no", or even if you have doubt about whether you could say "yes", then perhaps it's time to step up to being the missionary God has called you to be.  The Good News of Jesus Christ is a Gospel of Joy.  Those who have received it have also received a mission to share it with all around them.  On this World Mission Sunday, let us take up our mission.

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Homily: 29th Sunday of Ordinary Time – Cycle A
          Being a missionary is hard.  My guess is that most of you here would agree with that statement.  Let’s just think about the life of a missionary for a second: He or she is sent to a foreign land—that is, an unfamiliar place—where it is likely that the people who live there do not speak the same language as he or she does; they probably have quite unique cultural practices, too, and live by some moral norms that are strange, possibly even offensive, to him or her.  Yet in the midst of all of this the missionary has to find ways to communicate the Gospel message to the people to whom he or she has been sent.  In doing so, he or she will probably face a broad range of reactions: from the extremes of complete acceptance and firm rejection (even, possibly, to the point of being put to death!) and including all the shades of apathy that come in between.  Yes, the life of a missionary can be very hard.
          And I should know.  I’ve been one for the last two and a quarter years.  If a missionary is someone who has been sent to communicate the Gospel message, then I think that I qualify as a missionary.  In July of 2012 I was sent here to Cass County—an unfamiliar place for me—to continue the work of bringing the Good News of Jesus Christ to the people of this parish.  When I arrived here I found that the people here spoke a different “dialect” than what I had been familiar with (for example, I’ve only recently come to understand the correct use of the term “reckon”).  I also found that there were cultural practices unique to this place (“I hope that you like fried chicken, Father, because that’s what we serve at funeral dinners… and we have a lot of funerals!”); and that there are certain moral norms that I was going to have to get used to (like the time that I preached to the school children about how good it is to share/trade food in the lunchroom only to find out that such practices are prohibited so as to prevent conflicts).  Through all of these things (and yes there have been much bigger challenges than these) I’ve had to adjust, adapt, and continue to find ways to communicate the Good News of Jesus Christ to you, the good people of Cass County, while experiencing the full range of reactions: mainly acceptance, of course, but some rejection and many different shades of apathy mixed in.
          Perhaps we don’t often think of him in this way, but Jesus was a missionary, too.  Just think about it for a second.  From all eternity the Son of God dwelt in perfect communion with the Father and the Holy Spirit, he participated in the creation of the universe, and when God’s greatest creation—man—used his free will to separate himself from God, the Son of God accepted the mission to go forth from the Father and the Holy Spirit (though he was never truly separated from them) to take on human nature so as to complete the work of redeeming man from the sin that separated him from God.  In doing so, Jesus—the divine person in human nature—had to adjust, adapt, and constantly look for ways to communicate the Good News that the time of redemption had finally come.  As he did, Jesus also experienced the full range of reactions: he was both enthusiastically accepted and fiercely opposed, including all of the shades of apathy that come in between.
          I imagine that most of you here do not see yourselves as missionaries, however.  No, you all are mothers and fathers, husbands and wives, doctors, nurses, teachers, laborers, farmers, homemakers, first responders, city council-persons, etc., etc.  No, you’re not missionaries, because you’ve not been sent to some unfamiliar place to communicate the Good News of Jesus Christ.  I reckon that the Pharisees (and their disciples), and even the Herodians (who were loyalists to the “puppet king”, King Herod), probably thought the same thing.  Each of these groups was concerned more about maintaining the status quo according to their principles and so each was challenged by the teaching and works of Jesus.  But these were all Jews, of course, and so Jesus’ reaction to them was an attempt to wake them up to the mission that they had been neglecting.  “You are all God’s chosen people,” Jesus seems to say, “called to wait for the Messiah, yes, but called, nonetheless, to a mission to proclaim to the people of the world—from wherever you are—the Good News that Yahweh, the God of Israel, is sovereign over the entire world, and thus that salvation awaits them, too.”  In other words, they had become too caught up in issues that were wholly of this world (for example, about whether or not they should pay the taxes to Caesar); and thus the point of Jesus’ statement, “Repay to Caesar what belongs to Caesar and to God what belongs to God” was to tell them, “Even though you must be in the world, do not be of the world.  Rather, be of the work of God while you are in the world.”
          This, of course, is the message that also comes to us.  Yes, we are all of those things that we self-identify with; but above all we are missionaries: that is, those called to communicate the Good News of Jesus Christ and to make God’s sovereignty known and realized in the world.  I mean, it’s right here in the Liturgy, isn’t it?  At the end of Mass, the priest says (among other options) “Go and announce the Gospel of the Lord.”  It is a missionary mandate!  And if we’ve experienced the joy of the Gospel, then this should be a welcome mandate to receive; for none of us finds it difficult to share the joys in our lives, right?  For example, we have no problem passing around pictures of our children and grandchildren, because we feel such joy that they are, in a way, ours.  This is how we should be about sharing the Gospel.  And so, if this joy for sharing the Gospel is not in you, then find someone who has it and cling to them until you feel it too!  (I’m speaking figuratively, of course; that is, unless it would help for you to do that literally.  If it does help then do it literally, too.)  For then you will be ready (and energized) to fulfill the mission that you’ve been given.
          My brothers and sisters, this is the message of World Mission Sunday: that we are all together called to carry the Good News of Jesus Christ into the world from wherever we find ourselves; and because of that, we are also called to support each other in the mission with our prayers and our material sacrifices—whether that be here in our evangelization efforts at home, or in the efforts being made in far-off places, like Mongolia.  Let us recommit ourselves, then, to this “mission from God”—that is, of bringing the joy of the Gospel to all those around us—so that God’s loving plan of universal salvation might soon be realized.
Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – October 18th & 19th, 2014
World Mission Sunday

Tuesday, October 14, 2014

Dressing up for Mass

             As a sacramental people, we believe that what we do outwardly is an indication of what is happening inwardly (sacraments are "visible signs of invisible realities").  Therefore, Jesus' admonition to the man who comes to the wedding feast not dressed in a wedding garment should be a reminder to us that the Eucharist, which is the wedding feast of the Lamb, Jesus Christ, demands the same attention from us.  Remember: God became man so that man could become God (St. Athanasius).  Our dress when we approach the wedding feast of the Lamb ought to be a sacramental sign that we are anticipating entering into the glory of our Lord.

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Homily: 28th Sunday of Ordinary Time – Cycle A
          This summer I had the blessing to witness seven marriages here in our parish.  These couples were each unique in their mix of age, background, education, and life experience and so each of their weddings was special for me.  The uniqueness of each of these couples was also displayed in those who attended their weddings.  One thing that was common among these diverse groupings of people, however, was how they dressed.
          Of course, they didn’t all dress exactly the same, but they did all concern themselves enough to “dress up” for the occasion.  Now you and I could disagree about what qualifies as “dressing up”—and surely there are some objective standards—but given the fact that I had been around most of these people in ordinary circumstances I could tell that they had, in fact, “dressed up” for the occasion.  These people all recognized that a wedding is a special occasion and that for special occasions, special dress is expected.
          Our Lord Jesus seems to be speaking about this in our Gospel reading today.  But if we only read it as that—that is, as an instruction about proper etiquette for clothing for weddings—then we will have missed a lot of what the Word is trying to teach us.
          First, we have to recognize that Jesus is speaking allegorically.  He starts by saying “The kingdom of heaven may be likened to a king who gave a wedding feast for his son.”  Right there we are to recognize that he is using this example of a wedding feast as a tool to help his hearers understand something about the supernatural kingdom of heaven that was already “near at hand”.  Given all of that, it’s not too hard to start to put “names and faces” with all of the characters in the parable.  The king is God the Father, his son is Jesus, the wedding feast is the wedding feast of the Lamb—that is, the eternal banquet in heaven that Isaiah prophesies about in our first reading—the servants of the king who go out to summon the invited guests are the Prophets, the invited guests are God’s chosen people Israel, and those pulled off of the streets to fill the banquet hall in place of the invited guests are the Gentiles—that is, all those who weren’t Jewish.  Jesus meant this allegorical parable to shame his own people into seeing that they had been ignoring God’s invitation to the eternal wedding feast—brought to them initially through the prophets and now standing before them in God’s own Son—so that they might turn from their ignorance and enter into the joy of the kingdom of heaven.
          In many ways, though, this parable is also a word of hope and promise to the Gentiles.  As Jesus made clear in other situations, He came to preach the Good News of salvation to God’s chosen people, Israel.  Nonetheless, once it became clear that He was being rejected by His people, Jesus began to proclaim—through parables like this one and the others that we’ve been hearing in these past weeks—that the kingdom would be taken from them and given to the Gentiles.  Thus, for God-fearing Gentiles this truly was good news.  The kingdom of the Most High God, whose access had initially been restricted to one race of people, would soon be open to all people; and thus their hopes for eternal salvation would be realized.
          Now, imagine if initially you hadn’t been invited to a very prominent banquet—let’s say, with the President of the United States (and imagine any president you’d like, current or past)—but that, because some of the invited guests had declined to attend, you were now invited; would you just walk right in, wearing whatever it was you had on at the time?  No, assuming that you felt honored to be invited, you wouldn’t.  Rather, you would go home and quickly put on the nicest suit or dress that you had before presenting yourself at the banquet.  In other words, you wouldn’t think even for a moment that the last-minute invitation gave you any excuse not to dress up for the occasion.  This, in a sense, is the meaning of the man, not dressed in a wedding garment, who is thrown out of the wedding banquet in Jesus’ parable: Jesus is warning the Gentiles that, even though you are now invited, it doesn’t mean “come as you are”; rather you must still leave off your “worldly attire” and put on the special dress appropriate for this special occasion.
          My brothers and sisters, the good news for us today is that we are the Gentiles who have benefited from the rejection of the invitation extended to the ancient Israelites.  Even though God still calls his chosen people and invites them to the banquet, once he opened the doors to the Gentiles—that is, to all peoples—he will not close them again, thus making it possible for us to receive and respond to God’s invitation to join in the wedding feast.  Perhaps this “Gentile Church” has been around so long that we no longer see ourselves as those who were “invited second”.  And indeed, we see in this day many who have received the invitation to the wedding feast of the Lamb (otherwise known as the Eucharist)—baptized Christians—who take their invitation for granted and thus reject it; choosing rather to be busy about their own affairs.
          But what about us who respond to the invitation and who are here?  Do we still see the weekly celebration of the Eucharist for what it is?—a participation in eternal wedding banquet, prepared for us by God our Father in heaven?  If so, do we “dress up”—both physically and spiritually—for the occasion?  “Oh Father, God doesn’t care about what we wear to church.  He just cares that we’re here.”  OK, well what would a bride and groom think if you showed up to their wedding in a pair of khaki shorts and a hoodie?  They might be kind of offended, right?  It might not be the clothes themselves that offend them, but rather it would be the fact that you didn’t seem to care enough about their special day to put on any special dress.  The same applies here.  I think that God does care about what clothes you wear to Mass; not because he needs to be impressed by how well you dress, but rather because he wants to see evidence that you acknowledge that this event is different than a casual dinner at Applebee’s: that it is, indeed, special and so deserves special dress.
          Still unconvinced?  Well, consider then what it means to be a sacramental people.  The core belief that we hold about sacraments is that what we do outwardly (or physically), effects something inwardly (or spiritually).  And so how can we show up here, claiming to believe that this is the closest thing that we’ll get to touching heaven on this side of eternity, wearing the same clothes that we wore to the football game on Friday night?  The outward sign just does not match the claimed inward reality.  Thus, the guest in Jesus’ parable who showed up in his “street clothes” ended up in the same place as those who rejected the invitation: he was cast into the darkness outside of the banquet—that is, outside of the kingdom of heaven.
          OK, what about the many of you whom I see here who do acknowledge that Mass is something special and so do dress so as to give evidence to it?  Well, you’re not off the hook either.  While preparing physically to come to this banquet week after week is the first step, we must also prepare spiritually as well.  Jesus’ primary complaint against the religious elite of his day was that they were more concerned about their outward appearances than they were about their inward disposition.  And so we must remember that it is not enough that we simply “dress up” for Mass.  Rather, we must also “dress up” our souls by examining our consciences and ensuring that any unconfessed mortal sin is absolved sacramentally before we enter the wedding feast.  In this way our souls, too, will be adorned in their “wedding garments” and thus will be fit to participate in this great banquet.
          My brothers and sisters, again, it is an incomprehensible honor that God would invite us, his creatures, into the eternal banquet of “rich, juicy food and pure, choice wines” that is the kingdom of heaven: the banquet that we glimpse only dimly here in this Eucharist.  As we approach this table of plenty today, let us recommit ourselves (or, perhaps, commit ourselves for the first time) to always demonstrate how thankful we are for having been invited by “dressing up”—both physically and spiritually: adorning our bodies in a way that shows how special we believe this banquet to be and our souls with the beautiful flowers of a clean conscience and the fruits of our good works.  For when we do, we not only honor God but we also prepare ourselves to be received one day into that banquet prepared for us in heaven.

Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – October 12th, 2014

Tuesday, October 7, 2014

La gratitud produce buen fruto

          Para los cristianos, reconocemos que todo es don; desde el aire que respiramos a la gracia de la salvación. Por qué es dando gracias una de las cosas más difíciles de acordarse de hacer? Cuando nos olvidamos de dar gracias, empezamos a perder el respeto por la vida: nuestras vidas y las vidas de otros. Por lo tanto, vamos a comprometemos a ser más agradecido durante este Mes de Respeto a la Vida con el fin de producir frutos de shalom - la verdadera paz - al mundo.

P.S. No se olvide de rezar por el Sínodo Extraordinario de los Obispos, que esta pasando en estos momentos en Roma!


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Homilía: 27ª Domingo del Tiempo Ordinario – Ciclo A
          Las vides de uva pueden ser cosas melindrosas. Yo no sé nada de eso, excepto que había una pequeña bodega a un kilómetro y medio por una de las carreteras del país cerca de donde fui al seminario. En una agradable tarde de otoño, algunos de los seminaristas y yo recorrieron el kilómetro y medio a la bodega, degustar un par de muestras, y luego comprar una copa y sentarse en el porche con vistas al viñedo. A veces tuvimos tiempo para hablar con los propietarios sobre lo que se necesitaba para cultivar vides de uvas.
          Pues resulta que es un proceso bastante complicado como las vides de uva pueden ser muy sensibles a las diferentes condiciones; y si todo no es perfecto, entonces no se obtiene una buena uva. Es un proceso que requiere minuciosidad y paciencia. Cuando arranque un nuevo viñedo, uno tiene que esperar por lo menos un par de años para que las primeras uvas "dulces", buena para hacer el vino, aparece. Para las uvas "más ricos", uno tiene que esperar cinco o más años; y si algo duro sucede en medio de este tiempo (como una fuerte helada al final de la primavera) la espera es aún más larga.
          Cuando nos sentamos y disfrutamos de los frutos de ese trabajo, a menudo nos preguntamos "¿Por qué quieres que pasar por todo eso?" Inevitablemente, la respuesta de los propietarios fue que simplemente les encantó la idea de producir un buen fruto de sus labores. En otras palabras, ellos no lo hacen con fines de lucro (aunque, estoy seguro de que esperaban por esto), sino más bien lo hacen por la alegría de lo que podría ser producido.
          Tal vez esto es lo que hace la imagen de la viña y el viñador tan popular para parábolas en las Escrituras. En el oriente antiguo había viñedos por todas partes, que hizo esta imagen muy accesible a casi todo el mundo. Y, debido a que presenta una imagen de alguien que supervisa y se preocupa diligentemente por la creación, también esta imagen es muy apta cuando se trata de describir la participación de Dios en nuestras vidas. Hoy nuestras escrituras nos ofrecen dos parábolas utilizando la misma imagen que nos ayudan a arrojar luz sobre nuestra relación con Dios y la administración que él nos ha dado.
          En ambas parábolas, Dios es retratado como el propietario de la viña que hace todo lo posible para proporcionar el ambiente perfecto para que las vides crezcan y producen un buen fruto. No sólo cultivan la tierra meticulosamente, pero también pone un cerco alrededor para protegerla; e incluso cava un lagar en él, en anticipación de los buenos frutos que espera que las vides produzcan. En pocas palabras, él hace todo lo que cualquier buen viñador haría que quiere asegurarse una buena cosecha de la fruta.
          En la parábola de Isaías, nos encontramos con que el propietario de la viña, cuando venga en busca de fruto de sus viñas, se encuentra no las uvas buenas y dulces, listas para el lagar, sino más bien uvas agrias y amargas, que no sirven para nada sino para ser expulsado. En la parábola, el propietario de la viña le pregunta "¿Qué más pude hacer?" La respuesta implícita es, por supuesto, "nada." Esto también implica que el fracaso para producir un buen fruto no es la culpa del propietario, sino más bien es la culpa de los vides propios y se significa para ser una condena contra el pueblo de Israel que se habían rebelado contra Dios. Para ellos, el profeta les advierte, el Señor quitará su protección frente a ellos y serán víctimas de las naciones militantes que los rodeaban.
          No debería ser difícil para nosotros de vernos en esta parábola. ¿Quién de ustedes no ha sido el destinatario de la protección de Dios en algún momento de su vida, sólo para encontrarse "persiguiendo el viento", alimentando sus pasiones y produciendo frutos amargos? En mayor o menor grado, es probable que aún nos encontramos "produciendo frutos amargos" en vez de la rica cosecha que el Señor nos ha creado para hacer. ¿Y es porque el Señor no nos ha provisto de alguna manera? ¡Claro que no! Más bien, es nuestra propia debilidad humana y la propensión a usar nuestra voluntad libre para nuestros fines egoístas que produce tales frutos amargos. Por lo tanto, esta parábola también debe ser una llamada renovada a cada uno de nosotros para convertirnos de nuestras maneras egoístas y buscar la construcción del Reino de Dios primeramente.
          En la parábola de Jesús, nos encontramos con que el propietario del viñedo, después de preparar todo para una buena cosecha, se va de viaje y deja su viñedo a otros viñadores para atender en su ausencia. Cuando el propietario envía a sus criados para pedir su parte de la cosecha, los viñadores se vuelven contra ellos: esperando apoderarse de la cosecha por sí mismos. Mostrando una cantidad increíble de paciencia, el propietario envía los otros criados y, a continuación, a su propio hijo, con la esperanza de que los viñadores se repensarían su rebelión y entregarían a la cosecha. Estos también ellos matan, como su avaricia para la cosecha les supera así que se convierten en ciegos ante la cierta consecuencia de sus acciones. Los sumos sacerdotes y los ancianos nombraron esta consecuencia: ellos mismos serán matados y el viñedo se le dará a otras personas que serán leales al propietario y le entreguen los frutos que son suyos por derecho. Jesús emite esto como una advertencia a la elite religiosa, los sumos sacerdotes y los ancianos, que se han apoderado de la viña del Señor, su pueblo escogido, por ellos mismos; traicionando así la administración que se les había dado.
          Para nosotros es también una advertencia. Como cristianos bautizados, todos hemos recibido una administración en el viñedo del Señor para cuidar sus vides y producir una cosecha de fruta cuando el Señor viene a buscarla. Si nos limitamos a venir aquí una semana a otra a "alimentarnos de las uvas", pero fallaremos luego a salir de aquí a predicar las buenas nuevas de salvación y para trabajar por la justicia, entonces no somos mejores que los viñadores malvados que se negaron a dar al propietario de la viña el buen fruto que había trabajado tan duro para producir. Así nos condenamos también a la misma suerte desastrosa que esos viñadores malvados sufrirían: para ser echada fuera del reino de Dios en el infierno de la muerte eterna.
          Ahora me parece que, en ambos casos, hay una cosa común que falta que conduce cada uno de estos grupos de personas en su rebelión contra Dios; y creo que si tenemos en cuenta lo que les faltaba en la luz de nuestras propias rebeliones contra Dios, nosotros, también, encontraremos la misma cosa que falta. ¿Qué es esta cosa? La gratitud. ¿Por qué el pueblo antiguo de Israel rebelde contra Dios y produzca el fruto amargo? Porque subestimaron la bondad de Dios a ellos en lugar de permanecer agradecido por su cuidado vigilante. ¿Por qué los sumos sacerdotes y los ancianos actuar como lo habían hecho a los profetas de Dios y al Hijo de Dios? Debido a que se dejaron cegado por la autoridad que ejercían en lugar de permanecer agradecido por la administracion que se les había dado. Y ¿por qué todavía pecamos contra Dios? Me imagino que es porque muchas veces nos olvidamos la gracia de Dios para nosotros—y, por lo tanto, nuestra deuda con él—y por lo que utilizar los dones que él nos ha dado para perseguir nuestros propios fines egoístas; y, por lo tanto, producir frutos amargos y fracasar en la administracion que se nos ha confiado.
          Mis hermanos y hermanas, examinar sus vidas y ver si esto no es cierto: cuando dejamos de dar gracias por la gracia dada a nosotros nos volvemos amargados y absortos en nosotros mismos; pero cuando nos entregamos a la gratitud nos convertimos amables y más centrados en otros. Por eso nos reunimos cada domingo para celebrar la Eucaristía: para recordarnos de nuestra necesidad de dar gracias por todo lo que Dios ha hecho por nosotros—sobre todo el don de la vida y la redención ganó por nosotros en Cristo Jesús—y para recibir la gracia de ir adelante de aquí para cumplir la administracion que se nos confía: la construcción del reino de Dios, su viña, por lo que podría producirse una rica cosecha.
          Ya saben, no es mera coincidencia que las Escrituras están llenas de imágenes de viñedos y que ofrecemos el fruto de la vid como parte de nuestra oferta de acción de gracias aquí en este altar. Y así, mis hermanos y hermanas, que nuestra oferta de este día—y de cada día—ser el dulce fruto de gratitud por todo lo que Dios ha hecho por nosotros en Cristo Jesús; y que podamos llevar a esa gratitud hacia adelante para traer las bendiciones de Dios al mundo que nos rodea.
Dado en la parroquia de Todos los Santos: Logansport, IN

5ª del octubre, 2014

Gratitude makes good fruit

          For Christians, we recognize that everything is gift; from the air that we breath to the grace of salvation.  Why is one giving thanks one of the hardest things to remember to do?  When we forget to give thanks, we start to loose respect for life: our lives and the lives of others.  Therefore, let us promise to be more thankful during this Respect Life Month so as to bring forth a harvest of shalom - true peace - to the world.

P.S. Don't forget to pray for the Extraordinary Synod of Bishops, taking place right now in Rome!

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Homily: 27th Sunday of Ordinary Time – Cycle A
          Grape vines can be finicky things.  I wouldn’t know anything about that except that there was a little winery about a mile and a half down one of the country roads near Saint Meinrad, where I went to seminary.  On a nice fall afternoon, some of the seminarians and I would hike the mile and a half to the winery, taste a couple of samples, then purchase a glass and sit out on their porch, overlooking the vineyard.  We often had time to talk with the owners about what it took to cultivate vines for grapes.
          As it turns out it is a pretty involved process as grape vines can be very sensitive to different conditions; and if everything isn’t just right then you won’t get a good grape.  It’s a process that requires meticulousness and patience.  When starting up a new vineyard, one has to wait at least a couple of years for the first “sweet” grapes, good for making wine, appear.  For the “richer flavor” grapes, one has to wait five or more years; and if anything harsh happens in between (like a hard frost in late spring) the wait is even longer.
          As we sat and enjoyed the fruit of such a labor, we often wondered “Why would you want to go through all of that?”  Inevitably the response of the owners was that they simply loved the idea of producing a good fruit from their labors.  In other words, they didn’t do it for profit (though, I’m sure that they hoped there would be one!), but rather they did it for the joy of what could be produced.
          Perhaps this is what makes the image of the vineyard and the vinedresser such a popular one for parables in the Scriptures.  In the ancient near east there were vineyards everywhere, which made this image very accessible to just about everyone.  And because it presents an image of someone who oversees and diligently cares for creation it is also a very apt one when trying to describe God’s involvement in our lives.  Today our scriptures offer us two different parables using the same image that help us to shed light on our relationship with God and the stewardship that he has given to us.
          In both parables, God is portrayed as the dutiful owner of the vineyard who does everything in his power to provide the perfect environment for the vines to grow and produce a good fruit.  Not only does he cultivate the land meticulously, but he also places a hedge around it to protect it; and he even digs a wine press in it, in anticipation of the good fruit that he expects the vines will produce.  In short, he does everything any good vinedresser would do who wants to ensure a good harvest of fruit.
          In Isaiah’s parable, we find that the owner of the vineyard, when he comes in search of fruit from his vines, finds not the good, sweet grapes ready for the press, but rather wild, bitter grapes which are no good for anything except to be thrown out.  In the parable the vineyard owner asks “What more could I have done?”  The implied answer is, of course, “nothing.”  This also implies that the failure to produce a good fruit is not the fault of the owner, but rather the fault of the vines themselves and it is meant to be a conviction against the Israelite people who had rebelled against God, allowing “bloodshed” and “outcry” to take place instead of “right judgment” and “justice”.  For this, the prophet warns them, the Lord will take away his protection from them and they will fall victim to the militant nations that surrounded them.
          It should not be hard for us to see ourselves in this parable.  Who here hasn’t been the recipient of God’s gracious protection at some point in their lives, only to find yourself “chasing after the wind”, feeding your passions and producing bitter fruit?  In greater and lesser degrees, we probably still find ourselves “producing bitter fruit” instead of the rich harvest that the Lord created us for.  And is this because the Lord hasn’t provided for us in any way?  No!  Rather it is our own human weakness and propensity to use our free will for our own selfish ends that produces such bitter fruit.  Thus, this parable today should also be a renewed call to each of us to turn from our selfish ways—daily if necessary—and to seek first the building of God’s kingdom.
          In Jesus’ parable, we find that the owner of the vineyard, after securing a good harvest of grapes, goes on a journey and leaves his vineyard to others to tend in his absence.  When the owner sends his servants to bring him his harvest, the tenants turn against them: hoping to seize the harvest for themselves.  Showing an incredible amount of patience with these rebellious tenants, the owner sends other servants and then his own son, hoping that the tenants will rethink their rebellion and turn over the harvest.  These they also kill, as their greed for the harvest so overcomes them that they become blind to the certain consequence of their actions.  The chief priests and elders name this consequence: they themselves will be killed and the vineyard will be given over to others who will be loyal to the owner and give him the produce that is rightfully his.  Jesus issues this as a warning to the religious elite, the chief priests and the elders, who have seized the Lord’s vineyard—his chosen people—for themselves; thus betraying the stewardship that they had been given.
          For us this is also a warning.  As baptized Christians we have all been given a stewardship in the Lord’s vineyard to tend his vines and produce a harvest of fruit when the Lord comes to seek it.  If we simply come here week to week to “feed off of the grapes” but fail then to go forth from here to preach the good news of salvation and to work for justice, then we are no better than the wicked tenants that refused to hand over to the vineyard owner the good fruit that he had worked so hard to produce.  Thus we also condemn ourselves to the same disastrous fate that those wicked tenants would suffer: to be cast out of the kingdom of God into the hell of eternal death.
          Now it seems to me that, in both of these cases, there is one common thing that is missing that leads each of these groups of people into their rebellion against God; and I think that if we consider what they were missing in the light of our own rebellions against God we, too, will find the same thing missing.  What is this thing?  Gratitude.  Why did ancient Israel rebel against God and produce the bitter fruit?  Because they took God’s graciousness to them for granted instead of remaining thankful for His vigilant care.  Why did the chief priests and the elders act as they had to the prophets of God and to God’s Son himself?  Because they allowed themselves to become blinded by the authority they wielded instead of remaining thankful for the stewardship that they had been given.  And why do we still sin against God?  I imagine that it’s because we often forget God’s graciousness to us—and, thus, our debt to him—and so we use the gifts that he has given us to pursue our own selfish ends; and, thus, produce bitter fruit and fail in the stewardship that we have been entrusted with.
          My brothers and sisters, examine your lives and see if this isn’t true: whenever we fail to give thanks for the graciousness given to us we become bitter and self-absorbed; but when we give ourselves to gratitude we become gracious and more focused on others.  This is why we gather each Sunday to celebrate the Eucharist: to remind us of our need to give thanks for all that God has done for us—most especially the gift of life and for the redemption won for us in Christ Jesus—and to receive the grace to go forth from here to fulfill the stewardship entrusted to us: the building of God’s kingdom, his vineyard, so that a rich harvest might be produced.
          You know, it’s no mere coincidence that the Scriptures are full of images of vineyards and that we offer the fruit of the vine as part of our thanksgiving offering here on this altar.  And so, my brothers and sisters, may our offering this day—and every day—be the sweet fruit of gratitude for all that God has done for us in Christ Jesus; and may we carry that gratitude forward to bring God’s blessings to the world around us.
Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – October 4th & 5th, 2014