Sunday, November 20, 2016

Su "sí" también significa "no".

Homilía: 34º Domingo del Tiempo Ordinario – Ciclo C
Solemnidad de Nuestro Señor Jesucristo, Rey del Universo
          En el Evangelio de hoy, saltamos hacia el centro de la narración de Lucas de la crucifixión. En él Jesús se burló de los espectadores mientras que él está en medio de su gran sufrimiento. Las autoridades judías, los soldados romanos, e incluso uno de los malhechores crucificados con él todo lo presionan para demostrar que él es el Mesías, el Rey nombrado por Dios de los Judíos, utilizando el poder divino para salvarse de la crucifixión. No puedo imaginar lo que sintió Jesús. Él sabía que él era el rey, pero, lo injuria, estos hombres lo llamaban un impostor, un farsante, porque el verdadero rey sería salvarse de esta desgracia.
          Jesús también sabía que él tenía el poder de salvar a sí mismo. Recordemos lo que sucedió cuando, en la sinagoga de Nazaret, la gente del pueblo trató de lanzar a Jesús sobre la cumbre del monte sobre el cual la ciudad fue construida debido a lo que había dicho, pero que Jesús "pasó por en medio de ellos" y escapó. Pero Jesús no lo hizo esta vez, ¿verdad? ¿Y por qué? Bueno, porque ya él sabía que ha dicho "sí" a hacer la voluntad del Padre, el que iba a ser sacrificado por la redención de toda la humanidad. Y debido a esto, se podría decir "no" a las distracciones que lo rodean: las tentaciones de usar su poder divino para salvarse de este increíble sufrimiento.
          Es un hecho simple que cuando decimos "sí" a algo, automáticamente dice "no" a muchas otras cosas. Muchas de estas cosas son conocidas a nosotros en el momento: las otras opciones de las cuales elegimos la cosa a la que dijimos "sí". Más aún, sin embargo, decir "sí" a algo también significa que hemos dicho "no" a muchas cosas que todavía no hemos encontrado. Por ejemplo, decir "sí" para casarse significa que he dicho "no" a muchas cosas: a saber, tener relaciones románticas con otras personas además de mi cónyuge y la libertad de haber vivido por mi cuenta. También podría significar, sin embargo, que tal vez sin tu reconocimiento consciente, ya has dicho "no" a la promoción del trabajo que te trasladaría a otra ciudad porque tu familia no podía moverse desde donde está.
          El autor y orador católico Matthew Kelly nos recuerda que dar vuelta hacia algo es al mismo tiempo alejarse de algo. Él nos recuerda esto porque reconoce que demasiadas personas ignoran esta realidad básica. En otras palabras, muchas personas piensan que pueden decir "sí" a una cosa sin realmente decir "no" a los demás. Pero esto es mentira, dice: una mentira que eventualmente nos dejará sintiéndonos perdidos e insatisfechos. De nuevo, en medio de todas las burlas e insultos, Jesús recordó aquello a lo que había dicho "sí" y, por lo tanto, podía decir "no" a usar su poder para salvarlo de la cruz. Del mismo modo, todos los que estaban injuriando a Jesús habían dicho "sí" a un tipo de Mesías que era diferente de la que Jesús les presentó. Por lo tanto, tenían que decir "no" a alguien que pretendía ser el Mesías que no encajaba con el tipo para el que estaban buscando.
          Sin embargo, hubo una sola voz que se negó a injuriar a Jesús: la voz del otro malhechor crucificado con él. Él, al parecer, podría ver algo... digamos... incongruente acerca de la crucifixión de Jesús. Este malhechor pudo ver que Jesús era inocente de cualquier crimen capital y que en realidad no había habido ninguna amenaza para el poder de los ocupantes romanos, y, por lo que, quizás pensó que Jesús realmente era quien decía que era: un rey que aún no se ha entrado en el reino. Y así, en su propio sufrimiento y la cercanía a su muerte, este malhechor hace un increíble acto de fe en Jesús, él decide a decir "sí" a Jesús reconociéndolo como Rey, y para ese "sí", recibió su recompensa eterna.
          Así que la pregunta, por supuesto, viene de nuevo a nosotros. ¿Hemos dicho "sí" a Jesús? En muchos sentidos, esto es lo que el Año de la Misericordia, que se termine hoy, ha estado a punto. Ha sido acerca de volver a descubrir y renovar nuestro "sí" a Jesús, diciendo "sí" a servirle por servir las necesidades corporales y espirituales de quienes nos rodean. Y si pasamos bien este año o no, hoy estamos llamados a reconocer la realeza de Jesús, que él realmente hace reinar sobre nosotros, y para renovar (o, tal vez, para hablar por primera vez), nuestro "sí" a seguir Jesús, por lo que un nuevo florecimiento de la fe puede florecer a medida que comenzamos un nuevo año litúrgico la próxima semana.
          Ya saben, como católicos, no hacemos la cosa "¿Has aceptado a Jesús como su Señor y Salvador personal?", pero la idea de esto es algo a lo que estamos siendo llamados constantemente. En el bautismo, recibimos la gracia de la salvación: la gracia ganada para nosotros por la muerte y resurrección de Jesús. Sin embargo, en algún momento de nuestras vidas, todos tenemos que decir "sí" a Jesús y tenemos que reconocer a él como Señor y gobernante de nuestras vidas. En otras palabras, tenemos que permitir que Jesús sea nuestro rey.
          Pero esto es peligroso, ¿verdad? Si decimos "sí" a Jesús, entonces tendremos que decir "no" a tantas otras cosas, ¿verdad? Entonces, ¿cómo podemos decir "sí" a él? Es decir, ¿dónde podemos encontrar el coraje para permitir que él sea el Señor y gobernante de nuestras vidas? Este coraje, mis hermanos y hermanas, viene solo a través de un encuentro con él. ¿Y dónde lo encontramos? En la oración (especialmente ante el Santísimo Sacramento aquí en la Iglesia) y en la adoración comunitaria (sobre todo aquí en la Eucaristía), en las Escrituras (especialmente cuando meditamos sobre ellos y les permiten hablar con nosotros y con nuestras vidas), y en nuestro sufrimiento (es decir, cuando somos capaces, en nuestro sufrimiento, a gire, como el "buen malhechor" en el Evangelio de hoy, y ver a Jesús, crucificado allí con nosotros).
          Mis hermanos y hermanas, cuando nos encontramos con Jesús podemos ver la inutilidad de nuestros esfuerzos en contraste con la esperanza contenida en la resurrección de Jesús de entre los muertos, y en este sentido podemos encontrar el valor de decir "sí" a él (y, por lo tanto, "no" a tantas otras cosas). En este encuentro eucarístico con Jesús, no temamos decirle "sí" y reconocerlo como nuestro Rey; y no temamos a todos a los que tendremos que decir "no" por eso: porque aunque nos haga sufrir por un tiempo en este mundo, el paraíso—es decir, la felicidad eterna—espera a los que perseveran en su "sí" a Dios.
Dado en la parroquia de Todos los Santos: Logansport, IN

el 24º de noviembre, 2013

Your "yes" also means "no".

Homily: 34th Sunday in Ordinary Time – Cycle C
Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe
          In the Gospel today, we jump right into the middle of Luke’s account of the crucifixion.  In it Jesus is being taunted by bystanders while he is in the midst of his greatest suffering.  The Jewish authorities, the Roman soldiers, and even one of the criminals crucified with him all pressure him to prove he’s the Messiah—the divinely appointed King of the Jews—by using divine power to save himself from the crucifixion.  I can only imagine what Jesus felt.  He knew that he was the king, but reviling him these men were calling him a phony, a poseur, because the real king would save himself from this disgrace.
          Jesus also knew that he had the power to save himself.  Recall what happened when, in the synagogue at Nazareth, the townspeople tried to throw Jesus over the brow of the hill on which the town was built for what he had said, but that Jesus “passed through the midst of them” and escaped.  But Jesus didn’t do that this time, did he?  And why?  Well, because he knew that he had already said “yes” to do the Father’s will, which was to be sacrificed for the redemption of all mankind.  And because of this, he could say “no” to the distractions surrounding him: the temptations to use his divine power to save himself from this incredible suffering.
          It’s a simple fact that when we say “yes” to something, it automatically says “no” to a lot of other things.  Many of these things are known to us at the time: the other options from which we chose the thing to which we said “yes”.  Sadly enough, there are whole reality shows based on this premise.  Has anyone out there watched the show “Say ‘yes’ to the dress”?  This is the whole premise to the show: saying “yes” to one and, therefore, “no” to many others.
          Still more, however, saying “yes” to something also means that we’ve said “no” to a lot of things that we haven’t yet encountered.  For example, saying “yes” to get married means that I’ve said “no” to many things: namely, to having romantic relationships with other people besides my spouse and to the relative freedom of having lived on my own.  It could also mean, however, that, perhaps without your conscious acknowledgement, you’ve already said “no” to the job promotion that would relocate you to another city because your family couldn’t move from where you are.
          Catholic author and speaker Matthew Kelly reminds us that to turn towards something is at the same time to turn away from something.  He reminds us of this because he acknowledges that too many people ignore this basic reality.  In other words, many people think that they can say “yes” to one thing without really saying “no” to the others.  But this is a lie, he says: a lie that will eventually leave us feeling lost and dissatisfied.  Again, in the midst of all of the taunting and reviling, Jesus remembered that to which he had said “yes” and, thus, could say “no” to using his power to save him from the cross.  Similarly, all those who were reviling Jesus had said “yes” to a type of Messiah that was different from the one that Jesus presented to them.  Thus, they had to say “no” to anyone purporting to be the Messiah who didn’t fit the type for which they were looking.
          Yet, there was one voice that refused to revile Jesus: the voice of the other criminal crucified with him. He, it seems could see something… let’s say… incongruent about Jesus’ crucifixion.  This criminal could see that Jesus was innocent of any capital crime and hadn’t really been any threat to the power of the Roman occupiers, and so perhaps he thought Jesus really was who he said he was: a king who has yet to come into his kingdom.  And so, in his own suffering and nearness to death, this criminal makes an incredible act of faith in Jesus—he decides to say “yes” to Jesus by acknowledging him as King—and for that “yes” he received his eternal reward.
          And so the question, of course, comes back to us.  Have we said “yes” to Jesus?  In many ways, this is what the Year of Mercy, which ends today, has been all about.  It’s been about re-discovering and renewing our “yes” to Jesus by saying “yes” to serving him by serving the bodily and spiritual needs of those around us.  And whether or not we spent this year well, today we are called to acknowledge the kingship of Jesus—that he truly does rule over us—and to renew (or, perhaps, to speak for the first time) our “yes” to follow Jesus, so that a new flourishing of faith can blossom as we begin a new liturgical year.
          You know, as Catholics, we don’t do the whole “Have you accepted Jesus as your personal Lord and Savior” thing, but the idea of it is something to which we are constantly being called.  In baptism, we receive the grace of salvation: the grace won for us by Jesus’ death and resurrection.  Yet, at some point in our lives, we all have to say “yes” to Jesus and to acknowledge him as Lord and ruler of our lives.  In other words, we have to let Jesus be our king.
          But this is dangerous, is it not?  By saying “yes” to Jesus, then we’ll have to say “no” to so many other things.  So how, then, can we say “yes” to him?  I mean, where can we find the courage to allow him to be Lord and ruler of our lives?  This courage, my brothers and sisters, comes only through an encounter with him.  And where do we encounter him?  In prayer (especially before the Blessed Sacrament here in the Church), in communal worship (especially here in the Eucharist), in the Scriptures (especially when we meditate on them and allow them to speak to us and to our lives), and in our suffering (i.e. when we are able, in our suffering, to turn, like the “good thief” in today’s Gospel, and see Jesus, crucified there with us).
          My brothers and sisters, when we encounter Jesus we can see the hopelessness of our striving in contrast with the hope contained in Jesus’ resurrection from the dead; and in this light we can find the courage to say “yes” to him (and, thus, “no” to so much else).  In this Eucharistic encounter with Jesus, let us not fear to say “yes” to him and acknowledge him as our King; and let us not fear all to which we’ll have to say “no” because of this: because, although it may cause us to suffer for a time in this world, paradise—that is, eternal happiness—awaits those who persevere in their “yes” to God.

Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – November 20th, 2016

Sunday, November 13, 2016

Purified through persecution

Homily: 33rd Sunday in Ordinary Time – Cycle C
          If any of us stopped to think about receiving a valuable gift, chances are that many of us would think of receiving something made out of gold.  Gold is a metal that we consider to be precious and valuable and so we only use it for things that will be valued and preserved.  In other words, we don’t make hammers out of gold because we expect them to be used, abused, and eventually discarded.  Wedding rings, the vessels we use at Mass, and gifts that we receive when retiring after a long career are made out of gold because they will be treasured, preserved, and valued for many years to come.
          What makes gold so precious to us is both its rarity and its beauty.  Its rarity is a characteristic inherent to gold itself.  There’s only so much gold in the world and to find a mine of it is valuable because it is a valued commodity.  Its beauty, however, is not something with which it comes naturally.  Rather, raw gold ore must be refined before it will begin to show the beauty for which it is highly prized; and this refining process is a violent one.  There are actually a few different methods of refining gold, but the two most common methods use either heat or chemicals.
          Refining with heat is one of the oldest methods of refining metals. Mentioned even in the bible, this form of refining involved a craftsman sitting next to a hot fire with molten gold in a crucible being stirred and skimmed to remove the impurities (or dross) that rose to the top of the molten metal. With flames reaching temperatures in excess of 1000 degrees Celsius, this job was definitely a dangerous occupation for the gold refiner. The tradition remains largely untouched today with the exception of a few advancements in safety and precision.
          In the chemical method of refining gold, strong acids such as nitric acid and hydrochloric acid are used to dissolve the impurities in the gold ore and, afterwards, are neutralized and washed away, taking the impurities with them. The resulting product is a muddy substance that is almost pure gold. This muddy substance is then dried until it is a powdered residue and then heated to melt the gold powder and fuse it so that it becomes a usable solid.  Both processes, as you can see, are pretty violent!  And I mention them here today because I think that they help us to understand what our Scriptures are trying to tell us today.
          Near the end of his time on earth, Jesus starts to say some disturbing things to his disciples.  He tells them that a time of violent unrest will come upon them and that no one, even his disciples, will be kept free from suffering.  In fact, he tells them, they’ll be persecuted, and some of them killed, even, perhaps, by their own family members!  This is not the image of triumph that his followers were hoping the Messiah would bring and so I can only imagine how disheartening Jesus’ words were to them.
          Nevertheless, Jesus makes a promise.  At the end of these words of “doom and gloom”, Jesus tells them, “…not a hair on your head will be destroyed.  By your perseverance you will secure your lives.”  In this promise Jesus shows his followers that there is a way through this time of tribulation and that is perseverance in faith.  Perhaps, however, this begs some questions: “If God is intent on preserving his faithful ones through this time of tribulation, why not just prevent the tribulation in the first place?  Is he just trying to test them to see if they will fail?  Is this a punishment for sins that they’ve committed, even though they were trying to follow him?”  The answer, I think, lies in our understanding of how gold is refined.
          The suffering that Jesus is predicting that his followers will experience is not the suffering of punishment or even the suffering of an uncaring God who just refuses to keep them safe from it.  I think, rather, that the suffering that is predicted is a suffering of refinement.  The tribulations that will befall Jesus’ followers are like the refiner’s fire: a violent aggression against the element that nonetheless purges its impurities so that nothing but the pure, precious element remains.
          The human person, marred by sin, is like raw gold ore: valuable more for what it could be than for what it is.  Unrefined, it is marred by the impurities that are mixed in with its chemical structure.  In order for its full beauty to be seen—and, therefore, its full value to be known—it must go through the violent and painful process of refining: stripping away its impurities, until nothing is left but pure gold, an element of striking beauty.  In preparation for the second coming of the Lord, the world—and, specifically, the human person—must also go through a refining process, because only those who are pure can stand in the presence of God.  Perseverance in faith through tribulations is like the gold maintaining the integrity of its chemical composition throughout the refining process: having endured the violent process, each person will emerge in the purity of his or her humanity and will be a strikingly beautiful creature to behold.
          The challenge, therefore, for Christians is two-fold: One, not to fall away from the faith when the tribulations come.  Remember, Jesus said “By your perseverance you will secure your lives!”  The second challenge for Christians is to hasten this transformation by living transformed lives here and now!  If we are truly anticipating Jesus’ return and the coming of God’s kingdom in its fullness, then we ought to be "stoking the flames" of the refiner's fire by living transformed lives and thus put into stark contrast the misdeeds of those who do evil.  Living the corporal and spiritual works of mercy beyond the close of the Year of Mercy is one major way to do this.  In other words, and this is counterintuitive, we prepare ourselves for the great tribulation—and, in a real sense, hasten its coming—when we readily seek tribulation in our lives: that is, opportunities to sacrifice ourselves in the name of Jesus to build up his kingdom and to purge all that is dark and impure within us.
          Another way that we can prepare ourselves for (and, thus, hasten) Jesus’ coming is our daily examination of conscience and our frequent celebration of the sacrament of reconciliation.  The examination is like a daily refiner’s fire that causes all of our impurities (that is, our sins) to bubble to the surface.  Then, in the sacrament, Jesus, the Divine Refiner, skims the dross of our impurities from the surface when we confess our sins and receive absolution.  As purified gold we then go forth to shine in the world to show it that purity is possible by the way we live our lives, now unhindered by the impurities that once discolored us.  Sure, impurities will begin to attach themselves to us once again as we intermingle with the world; and this means that this is a process that must be continually renewed until the end of time.  I believe, however, that this is what Jesus meant when he said: "By your perseverance you will secure your lives".
          My brothers and sisters, as human persons, many dark things separate us from one another and keep us from being the amazingly beautiful and pure creation that God intended us to be: a visible image of the communion of persons that he is in himself.  Therefore, let us use these frightful words that Jesus speaks to us today to inspire us to allow the refining process to work in our lives and then to be prophets in the world by which others come to acknowledge and accept their own need of refining.
          My brothers and sisters, the eternal salvation of many depends on the work that we do to bring them to accept this hard work of being refined.  Let us not fail them, but rather spend our lives for them.  In this way we will model our Lord's sacrifice for us and thus conform ourselves to his image, even as we help form the human family into the image of God on earth.  In doing so, we will secure our own salvation.  May the strength that can only come from God bring this good work to fulfillment in our lives.

Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – November 12th & 13th, 2016

Sunday, November 6, 2016

A Cubs championship and eternal things

Homily: 32nd Sunday in Ordinary Time – Cycle C
          Well, it’s the beginning of November and so you know what that means, right?  Yep, the Christmas assault has begun.  And it’s the first Sunday of November so that also means that we have two more full days before our national election finally takes place and we can end at least one of these assaults on our consciousness.  For us as Catholics the beginning of November also indicates that we are approaching the end of the Liturgical Year.  As we do so, our readings make a shift from focusing on the nuts and bolts of discipleship and onto considerations about the end of time.
          This week, the focus is on the reality of the resurrection of the dead.  This is an important consideration, of course, but not only because of what we believe about Jesus (Saint Paul has said that “if there is no resurrection from the dead, then Jesus Christ is still dead and our faith is useless”), but also because it means something about how we live our lives before we die.  Our first reading illustrates this for us nicely.
          In our first reading today, we heard the testimony of three of the seven Israelite brothers who with their mother were being tortured by the Seleucid King Antiochus Epiphanes in order to get them to apostatize—that is, denounce their faith—by eating pork, which they believed God forbade them to eat.  Each of these three courageously handed over their lives to their torturers rather than denounce their faith in God by breaking the Law that he had given them; and it was the strength of their faith in the fact that God could and would raise them to life again that gave them that courage.  In other words, they believed in God’s promise of eternal life to those who remained faithful to his Laws and commandments and so they knew that if they kept themselves pure according to God’s law that, even if they should die at the hands of men, God would one day raise them to life again. And so we see that our belief in the resurrection means something about how we live our lives before we die: if there’s no resurrection, eat pork and enjoy your life, while you have it; if there is a resurrection, then we ought to conform to the laws and commandments of the one through whom the resurrection will come (that is, God), so as not to incur his wrath.
          In the Gospel reading, in answering the dilemma that the Sadducees put forth, Jesus doesn’t describe for us how we should live our lives in this world, but rather describes a glimpse of how eternal life will look.  He describes life after the resurrection of the dead as one in which those who have been raised to life “can no longer die”, indicating that it will be an immortal life which will extend through all eternity.  Eternity, I think, can be a very hard thing to imagine, however.  Fr. Larry Richards, who is a parish priest from Erie, Pennsylvania and who travels to speak nationally, has one of the best illustrations about length of time which is eternity and he describes it in this way: Imagine that, in eternity, every step requires 1,000 years to take and that you have been given the job to take every grain of sand from every beach and on every ocean floor, one at a time, to the top of Mt. Everest.  You can imagine the countless billions of years that it would take to accomplish this task. Yet once you have finished this task, eternity is just beginning.  He describes it in this way in order to put into sharp contrast the reality that with our infinitesimally short time on earth (in comparison to eternity) we will determine how we will spend eternity (either in heaven or in hell).  Thus, once again, our belief in the resurrection of the dead means something about how we ought to live our lives before we die.
          Those of you who have gotten to know me a bit know that, even though I grew up in (what is now) the far south-west suburbs of Chicago, I’ve always been a “north-sider” at heart.  Thus, you can imagine (and, perhaps, many of you share) my joy that the Cubs finally won a championship after so many years of heartache.  As I reflected on how they won this championship, I began to see a connection in this celebration (and what it took to get there) and our lives a Christians.
          In order to win the World Series, this year’s Cubs team had to battle hard.  Even though they ended the season with the best record in baseball, they still had to fight, day-in and day-out, in order to stay on top.  Then, in the Series itself, they had to battle from behind and win three straight games in order to spark the celebration that would fill them and their many millions of fans with inconceivable joy.  Very often the Christian life is no different.
          When someone acknowledges that the resurrection of the dead is, indeed, real and thus that how they live in this life determines how they will spend eternal life, then he or she begins to see this life as a battle and thus begins to fight, day-in and day-out, in order to win the prize of eternal life in heaven.  Because of our fallen nature, he or she will occasionally have to battle from behind; but nothing will deter him or her as he or she seeks to accomplish this goal: to experience the joy of entering into heaven for all eternity—a joy of which we got a glimpse when we saw the incredible joy of both the Cubs and their fans when they won the championship.
          My brothers and sisters, if we are not living this life as if it is a battle for how we will live after the resurrection of the dead—in holy fear of the one who will raise us from the dead—then we can have little hope both of accomplishing that goal and of experiencing the joy that comes when we accomplish it.  Therefore, we must engage the battle if we hope also to experience the victory.
          Perhaps many of you have heard my prophesy that when the Cubs finally win the world series it will be a sign that Jesus is coming back and that the world is coming to an end.  The jury’s still out on whether or not my prophesy is true (though, if you ask Fr. Clayton, he’ll tell you that he thinks that it is true, but that we have to wait until after Tuesday to find out exactly how it’s going to happen).  Nevertheless, it should, along with the readings that we will be hearing over these next few weeks, invite us to consider once again whether we are fighting to win the battle against the world or if we are, in fact, colluding with it: so that we might change our actions accordingly and fight so as to be ready to enjoy the victory when the fulfillment of God’s promise of resurrection comes to us.
          My brothers and sisters, Jesus Christ, risen from the dead, is the first fruit of that victory.  As we offer back to God this victory that Jesus won for us, let us ask for the grace to keep up the good fight and thus prepare ourselves to enjoy the spoils of his victory: eternal life with him in heaven.
Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – November 6th, 2016