Showing posts with label 21st Sunday. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 21st Sunday. Show all posts

Sunday, August 25, 2019

Agonize to enter the narrow gate



Homily: 21st Sunday in Ordinary Time – Cycle C
          For those of you paying attention, in the world of Indiana professional sports, a bombshell was dropped last night as Andrew Luck, the franchise quarterback of the Indianapolis Colts, announced his immediate retirement from playing football.  For those of you who follow football, even casually, you’ll know what a shocking announcement this is.  For those of you who don’t, however, I’ll try to summarize what happened and why this is such a big deal.
          Andrew Luck is only 29 years old and has been in the NFL for only a handful of years.  He was and continued to be one of the more talented quarterbacks in the NFL.  In spite of injuries that have sidelined him over the past couple of years, Mr. Luck was still considered to be at the top of the list of quarterbacks who could lead his team to a championship.  His announcement, however sudden, was not random.  This year, it is reported, he was facing more injuries that would keep him sidelined which caused him to worry both about whether he’d ever be able to return to top form and what all of this would mean for his quality of life after football.  Thus, he made what he described to be an intensely difficult decision: one that has shocked the sports world.
          What Mr. Luck’s announcement reveals to us is this: that to remain at the top level of any sport, one must have a desire to fight through every obstacle and the discipline to endure the day to day hard work that overcoming those obstacles requires.  Mr. Luck describes having lost that desire (he called it losing the “joy” of playing football), which meant that he no longer had the will to maintain the discipline.
          The word “discipline”, for most of us, probably connotes something negative: that is, being punished for something that you did wrong.  Discipline, therefore, is a corrective: suffering imposed on someone in order to correct an improper behavior.  For example, you discipline a child for coloring on the living room walls.  In other words, you make them feel bad in order to teach them that it is bad to color on the walls.
          Now, I’ve just touched on something that, I hope, will help us see that “discipline” is something more than just punishment.  You see, “discipline” shares the same root word as the word “disciple”; and what is a “disciple” but someone who learns from a master and tries to follow the master’s ways.  In other words, a “disciple” is one who learns and then applies that learning to his or her life.  “Discipline”, therefore, looked at in this way, is more than “punishment”; rather it is “teaching”.  And so “discipline” for professional athletes is not just a punishment that must be endured, but a way of teaching themselves how to achieve the level of skill that they will need, and to overcome obstacles that inevitably appear, in order to compete at the highest echelon of their sport.  Thus, almost every one of them will say that “you need a lot of discipline to compete at this level”; and we all hear that and say, “You’re right” (which is probably followed by a thought “and I don’t have it!”).
          In the Gospel reading today, Jesus is passing through towns and villages on his way to Jerusalem and somewhere along the way a man approaches him and asks this very sincere question: “Lord, will only a few people be saved?”  Jesus, being who he is, is able to hear the “question behind the question” that the man is asking and his response reveals what that question might have been: “Lord, is it possible that I can be saved?”  And how does Jesus answer this question?  He says, “Strive to enter through the narrow gate.”  Now we don’t need to know what “narrow gate” Jesus is talking about: rather, it is enough to imagine a narrow gate that is difficult to get through and, thus, what it would take to squeeze through it.
          The word “strive”, itself, is heavy with meaning, because the Greek word that Luke, the Gospel writer, used is the same word from which we get the verb “to agonize”.  So, in a sense, Jesus is telling this man “to agonize to enter through the narrow gate”.  “Agony” is another word that has negative connotations.  “To agonize over” something is to suffer something unpleasant: for example, indecision at not knowing the correct choice to make in order to achieve something important.  Nevertheless, that “agonizing” often leads to a decision; and thus the suffering produced by the agony turns into a “discipline” that helps one achieve his or her goal.  Thus, to strive—to agonize—to enter through the narrow gate is also to discipline yourself to enter through the narrow gate.  Thus, we see that Jesus was not talking only about exerting raw energy in your effort, but that he was also talking about disciplining yourself—allowing yourself to be taught how to enter the gate—so that you can enter through it: “for many, I tell you, will attempt to enter,” Jesus said, “but will not be strong enough.” /// “Lord, will only a few be saved?” the man asks…  “That depends,” Jesus seems to say, “on how many people truly strive for it.”
          Thus, we can see that making it to the heights of professional sports and making it to heaven are not dissimilar things: both require discipline and effort.  There is one extremely important difference, however—a difference that makes the one nearly impossible for any of us to achieve and the other very possible for all of us to achieve—and that is this: in professional sports you’re judged by your performance, whereas in salvation, you’re judged by your effort.  None of us would question that each athlete in professional sports is putting forth his or her maximum effort towards “entering the narrow gate” and winning a championship.  Yet, only one athlete or team wins a championship: and this because the individual/team performance was better than all of the others.  Salvation, however, does not depend on the perfection of our performance; rather, it depends on whether or not we’ve given our maximum effort.
          Thus, Jesus says “strive to enter through the narrow gate, for many, I tell you, will attempt to enter but will not be strong enough.”  “Strive”—discipline yourself—make yourself strong so that you can give the maximum effort, because that is what it will take to enter through the narrow gate.  This, my brothers and sisters, is what we do when we pray daily, when we study the Scriptures and the teachings of the Church (and strive to be obedient to those teachings!), when we live the sacramental life (meaning primarily: regular confession and weekly participation in the Eucharist), and when we serve others through the works of mercy.  These disciplines are what prepare us to enter through the narrow gate.
          Those who are not strong enough are those who give up on one or more of these disciplines, believing that because they “know Jesus” that they will still be saved.  Jesus, however, disagrees.  Those who have given up on these disciplines, even though they know Jesus, will be like those locked out of the master’s house after he has locked the door and who cry out to the master who then replies “I do not know where you are from”.  We must know the master, yes, but we must also strive to enter; because once the door is locked it won’t be reopened.
          My brothers and sisters, it is a beautiful mercy of God that he does not expect perfection of us so that we can be saved.  Although his justice requires perfection, his mercy takes into account the effort that we put forth towards achieving it and, thus, he welcomes us, in spite of our flawed performances.  Therefore, taking the achievements of professional athletes as our inspiration, let us rededicate ourselves to those disciplines of prayer, study, obedience to Church teaching, celebrating the sacraments, and doing the works of mercy so that the glory we achieve will be the kind that never fades, the glory of entering through the narrow gate to be seated at our master’s eternal wedding feast: the foretaste of which we enjoy even now, here in this Eucharist.
Given at Saint Mary’s Cathedral: Lafayette, IN – August 25th, 2019

Sunday, August 27, 2017

A pure wonder

Homily: 21st Sunday in Ordinary Time – Cycle A
          Perhaps we all remember that famous passage in the Gospel when Jesus says, "Unless you turn and become like little children, you shall not enter the Kingdom of God".  What Jesus means by this seems obvious, right?: that salvation involves a return to a state of moral innocence, like children.
          But I think this begs the question a little.  I mean, are children really as innocent as their reputation makes them?  Let’s think about this for a moment.  Infants are some of the most selfish and self-centered people I know!  They will cry and fuss until they get what they want, completely without regard to how their attitude affects others.  And what about toddlers?  Don't toddlers give their parents constant headaches as they stubbornly assert themselves against their parents’ wills (I mean, we don’t call it the “terrible twos” for nothing, right)?  Then, as they get to kindergarten and beyond, they augment their stubborn defiance and begin lying to their parents, don’t they?; and add to it an unrelenting torment of their siblings!  No, I’m not convinced that children are really as innocent as the “media” makes them out to be.
          Perhaps, however, Jesus was referring to a different kind of innocence when he made that statement: not a moral innocence, but an innocence marked by a purity of wonder.  You know, for healthy children, the world is a wonder-filled place.  Sea shells and starlight are both magically mysterious to them; and grasshoppers and green mountains equally inspire fascination and excitement.  And isn't that way it should be?  I mean, isn't that the way that Adam and Eve would have seen the world before original sin: as an inspiring collection of magnificent treasures given to them by their Creator?  I think so, because that's what creation is: a fabulous gift from an all-powerful God who is a wise and loving Father and who wants his children to share in his delight in his creation.
          An attitude of wonder and awe towards God’s gift of life and the created universe is something that has been shared by all the saints.  And it applies not only to natural gifts, but even more to the supernatural gifts of salvation and redemption.  This is why Saint Paul, after spending three chapters of his Letter to the Romans analyzing and explaining the complex twists and turns of salvation history, breaks out into a hymn of wonder and awe: "Oh, the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God!"  My friends, this is the cry of a childlike, grace-filled heart.  In other words, it is the cry of one who carries a healthy Christian heart.
          In his spontaneous hymn of praise, Saint Paul tells us that God's judgments are "inscrutable" and his ways are "unsearchable."  Now, he doesn’t mean this in a negative sense, but rather in a “wonder-filled” sense as he acknowledges how God was using a creative, unexpected way to bring about the salvation of the Israelite people.  As it turns out, God is always using creative ways to bring about his magnificent plan of salvation.  One of those particularly creative ways is the papacy.
          In today's Gospel passage, Jesus explains that the papacy is the indestructible foundation of his Church.  To emphasize the point, he gives his disciple Simon a new name that symbolizes his ministry as the first pope: "Peter," which is derived from the Greek word petrus, meaning "rock".  As interesting as that is, the setting in which this is taking place only amplifies the situation.  You see, this conversation took place just outside the city of Caesarea Philippi, which was a glorious city that was constructed on the top of a huge hill, one side of which was a towering, bare rock cliff.  This gave the city an appearance both of invincibility and magnificence.  Precisely there, standing near that imposing cliff, Jesus explains that his Church will also be invincible, because it too will be founded on rock: the rock of Peter, the first Pope.  Jesus promised that his Church will be indestructible; and that the "gates of the netherworld" will not prevail against it.  And we see that his promise has come true.
          For the last 20 centuries, we see that the papacy has continued intact.  Even secular encyclopedias (who look at facts, not religious tradition) can trace an unbroken line of succession from Saint Peter, the first pope, up to Francis, our current pope.  At times, we must admit, there have been corrupt, greedy, and weak men occupying the “chair of Peter”, and many emperors, kings, and generals have tried to disrupt the papacy by having popes kidnapped, murdered, and exiled on numerous occasions.  Nonetheless, no pope in history has spoiled the purity of the Gospel or interrupted the flow of God's grace through the sacraments.  Thus we see, that the rock that Jesus established has stood the test of time; and not because of the popes' human qualities, but rather because of the "riches and wisdom and knowledge" of God's divine and truly wonder-filled providential care.  It was an odd plan, to be sure; but our hearts should be filled with wonder for God’s wisdom, because it has worked and will continue to work until the end of time.
          My brothers and sisters, when was the last time that we found ourselves echoing Saint Paul's hymn in our own hearts, being filled with wonder and awe at the thought of God's goodness, wisdom and power?  If it was recently, then that's a good sign.  Evidence of wonder and awe in our hearts is a key vital sign for the healthy Christian soul.
          If your soul is a bit short on wonder and awe, however, it may be a warning sign.  Of course, some people tend to be a bit pessimistic by temperament: it's part of their personality and so external signs of wonder and awe are just “not their thing”.  That's different, however, than the kind of worldly (and sometimes diabolically encouraged) cynicism and skepticism that actually extinguishes the Christian fire in our hearts.  You see, the cynic only laughs at irony and sarcasm and the skeptic only smiles at the failings of his neighbor; but for the healthy Christian, life itself is a source of joy and satisfaction.  In other words, even with all its suffering, life, for the healthy Christian, is a wonder-filled, awe-inspiring thing, because it shows forth the unfathomable "riches and wisdom and knowledge of God" and it reminds us that "from him and through him and for him are all things".  And so, if you don’t have this, perhaps it’s an indicator that you need to return to the basics of the Christian spiritual life: prayer and the sacraments, most especially the sacrament of reconciliation.
          Nevertheless, my brothers and sisters, today, whether our sense of wonder is rickety or robust, let's stir it up during the miracle of this Mass, so as to give God pleasure by enjoying his gifts and to make our Christian hearts healthy so that we might carry this joy into the world around us.

Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – August 27th, 2017

Sunday, August 24, 2014

The key that unlocks happiness

          Certainly on this Sunday, we can get stuck on the notion of authority and who it has been given to.  This is important, so it makes sense.  But for each of us, individually, perhaps there is an even greater theme here.  Peter's confession of faith is a key that unlocks for him more than he had imagined; but it didn't come by chance.  It grew out of a relationship with Jesus - the "keymaster", if you will - and we are called to enter into that relationship, too.  May we find the key to happiness in our relationship with Jesus: the faith that unlocks for us God's plan for our happiness and the further building of his kingdom.

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Homily: 21st Sunday, Ordinary Time – Cycle A
          Most of us probably don’t realize this, but every day we carry around a little bundle of power in our pockets, purses, etc.  No, in spite of what all of the advertisers are trying to convince you of, it isn’t that latest Smartphone with the 80 billion aps on it.  It is, in fact, our keys.  You see, keys are powerful.  Sure, practically speaking they don’t seem to do much: they lock and unlock our doors and start our cars, but when you look at it a little more broadly, you see that they do in fact have a lot of power over how we live our lives.  Just think about the last time you lost your keys.  How powerless did you feel?  Particularly here in the United States, without our keys we are immobilized.  We can’t go anywhere because we can’t unlock, let alone start our car, and we wouldn’t want to leave anyway, because we either wouldn’t be able to lock the house or, if we could, we wouldn’t be able to get back in.  So, yes, keys are apparently pretty powerful.
          Well, maybe not exactly.  It’s not the keys themselves that have the power, but rather it is those who possess the keys who have it.  Parents, of course, know this.  How often have you—against your better judgment—handed over your car keys to your teenager with the ominous warning, “I expect you to bring it back in one piece, got it?”  You realize that putting keys in their hands is handing power over to them and so you feel it is your duty (and rightfully so) to remind them of the responsibility that comes with it.  This, I think, can help us understand our readings today, because in both we see that power is being handed over to another by the conferring of keys.
          In the first reading, we see that it is God himself who has this power, which he is exercising through the prophet Isaiah.  In the reading we see that God is exercising his power over the keys of the kingdom of Judah, taking them from one and giving them to another.  Shebna was given power over the kingdom, yet he was not a good steward of the authority given to him.  So the Lord stripped him of the keys and gave them to Eliakim, whom the prophet identifies as the Lord’s servant and who, presumably, would be a better steward of the kingdom.  Teens, could you imagine losing the keys to the car to your younger brother or sister?  Multiply that disgrace by about hundred thousand and that’s what you have going on here.  You see, God was looking for a good steward for his kingdom, someone who would serve the needs of his chosen people well.  Shebna, apparently, didn’t cut it, so the keys—and, thus, the power—were given to Eliakim.
          In the Gospel today, we see a similar scene, though in this instance it is more like a test.  As a group, the disciples are able to report all of the facts about what others have been saying about Jesus.  Yet when Jesus confronts them and asks them to weed through all of that and tell him who they say that he is, only Simon Peter is recorded as having a response.  As a result, Jesus reveals to Simon his plan for him in his Kingdom.  Two things, I think, are important to note here.  First, Jesus carries the authority to confer the keys of the Kingdom of God.  Now, no Jew in their right mind would ever presume to do this, because they all knew that God alone had the authority to do so.  Thus, Jesus is either outside of his right mind or he really is God.  (fyi, as Christians, we believe the latter. <wink>)  Second, Peter, in confessing that Jesus is the Son of God, proves that he acknowledges Jesus’ authority and that he is ready to be a steward of God’s Kingdom.  Thus, it is only after Peter makes this confession that Jesus reveals to him his true calling, represented by conferring on him a new name and by promising to give him the keys to the Kingdom.  Now there’s so much richness to this story, but, unfortunately, we don’t have time to unpack it all.  But what’s important for us to see today is that Peter’s faith—that is, his ability to respond to God’s grace and confess what was unknowable to his human senses alone, that is, that Jesus is God—is itself a key to unlocking God’s loving plan for his life.  And so we see, my brothers and sisters, that faith is a powerful key.
          Of course, as we encounter this reading today, we, too, are confronted with the same questions.  “Who do they say that I am?”  And for us that’s a relatively easy question to answer.  We have nearly 2000 years of history and study behind us to help us.  In fact, there’s a whole theological science—called Christology—that is dedicated to answering just that question.  The challenge comes, as it did for the disciples who were with Jesus that day, when Jesus asks that second question, “Who do you say that I am?”  No matter how deftly we synthesize 2000 years of Christology to make it sound like our own, if we answer using only the knowledge we’ve gained through study of what others have said, our answer will never be more than just that, what others have said about Jesus.  This question cannot be answered by study alone.  Rather, it also requires a relationship.
          Think about it.  If a close friend came up to you and said, “What are other people saying about me?” how would you respond?  My guess is that it would be things like, “Oh, they say ‘he’s a nice guy,’ or ‘a good worker,’ or ‘a great soccer player.’”  Or perhaps, “‘she’s a good mother,’ ‘an excellent teacher,’ or ‘a nice boss,’” etc. etc.  And what if your friend then turned to you and said, “Well, who do you say that I am?”  If you don’t have a good relationship with that person, what more can you say except what everyone else has already said?  Yet, if you have a relationship with that person, you can look at him or her and say, “You’re Greg, or Susan, or Cindy.  You’re Larry, or Samir or Elaina… and you’re my friend.”  Do you see the difference there?  Without a relationship we are unable to see that person for who he or she is.  My friends, the same applies for our ability to answer these questions from Jesus today.  We can’t just listen to what other people have said about him.  Rather, we have to spend time with him and get to know him.  Then we will be able to respond, “You are Jesus, my friend.  And because of this I believe that you are who you say you are: the Christ, the Son of God.”  My friends this is a powerful confession.  It is powerful because it unlocks for us the relationship in which God can reveal his plan for us—that is, his plan for our happiness—and so entrust us with the responsibility to help bring about his kingdom here on earth.
          Whether or not you are ready to make this confession today, the important thing to remember is that there is always room for each of us to deepen our relationship with God.  Each time that we encounter him in both the Word and the Blessed Sacrament—whether here in the liturgy or in private prayer—we should ask him to reveal himself to us more and more.  However it is that you decide to do that—whether it is through Bible Studies, time in prayer before the Blessed Sacrament, participating in a Cursillo weekend or any other of the ways we have available to us here in this parish—let God unlock the faith in you that will be your key to unlocking the life that he has planned for you, a life that will lead to your eternal joy in heaven.
          Believe it or not, my brothers and sisters, we can even begin right here.  As we each approach to receive Jesus in this Eucharistic meal, let us imagine Jesus asking us that question, “Who do you say that I am?”  Then, let’s let our “Amen” echo Peter’s words and thus unlock for us the joys of God’s Kingdom.
Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – August 24th, 2014