Feel Free to Call Me "Reverend Doctor Deacon, Sir"

A couple years ago Cardinal McCarrick was here to celebrate our 8:00 daily Mass.

And he brought along a concelebrant, the Latin Patriarch of Jerusalem.

Patriarch is a special Eastern Rite title, and it’s much the same as Archbishop.

We formally address a bishop as Your Excellency; but a Patriarch is Your Beatitude.

While we were all getting ready in the sacristy,

The Cardinal and the Patriarch stepped toward the water cooler at the same time.

Cardinal McCarrick grinned and with exaggerated formality said, After you, Your Beatitude!

Patriarch Sabbah returned the mock formality saying, No, no, after you, your Eminence!

Why do we—even in the Church—use these exalted titles?

Jesus makes it clear that the exalted will be humbled and the humble will be exalted.

He even warns against using less exalted titles like Father and Teacher.

But Jesus was aware of the benefit and need for titles in human societies.

Titles help us pay proper respect to one another, and to special offices.

They give us a shorthand description for conveying information about roles and relationships.

If I introduce someone as Rabbi Borochoff, you know a lot about him just from that title

If I call my own father, Father or Dad or Sir or Mr Bockweg--- that tells you something too.

What Jesus is warning against is taking all these titles too seriously.

We may have different roles in society.

We may be presidents, chiefs, chairpersons, directors, bosses or heads of families.

Celebrities or just plain folks.

But we’re all brothers and sisters.

All children of God.

And that’s the fundamental basis for our relationships and our respect for one another.

It’s easy to be swayed by exalted titles.

And inflated expectations based on those titles create a danger for all involved.

It’s dangerous for those looking up to the titled and planning to emulate them.

How often have we seen the highly exalted fail as role models?

As Jesus says, Do not follow their example.

Many of us today have learned that lesson; we’ve seen the failures again and again.

And it’s dangerous for those tempted to look down from their titles.

They can come to believe that they truly are more deserving than the common folk.

Or they can become isolated by the formality and distance their title engenders.

The person who headed our Supreme Court some decades ago

Was criticized for taking himself much too seriously.

A magazine article said that his closest friends call him Mr Chief Justice.

So I appreciate having witnessed the knowing grins during that little exchange in the sacristy.

And other genuine indications from archbishops and generals and judges and senators.

We all see damage from hero-worship and ego trips every day.

But we’re fortunate to live in a time and a society where we also see many positive signs.

Many of those viewing and those holding the exalted titles do grasp Jesus’ message.

It’s up to us to spread that message further—the call for humble service.

Tuesday,  2nd Week of Lent

Mt 23:1-12                                 Read this Scripture @usccb.org  

Deserts, Meteors, Popes and Lenten Decisions

A lot has happened since we were together last Sunday.

We had a dramatic, rare meteor event in Russia—something never before witnessed by so many.

So extraordinary, it led Vladimir Putin to say, Thank God [there was no loss of life].

We had a dramatic, rare papal event in Rome—something no one has seen in 600 years.

Less dramatically, we had Ash Wednesday, the start of Lent.

Our forty days of prayer, fasting and almsgiving in preparation for Easter.

Today's Gospel tells us of Jesus' forty days of preparation, in the desert.

We don’t have much desert around here.

Many of us probably aren’t too familiar with the desert.

A couple years ago I spent a week in Palm Desert, California.

We drove through some pretty barren areas to get there.

But Palm Desert itself was more like a great Oasis.

A modern city with all the trappings.

Traffic, shopping malls, chain restaurants, hotels and gated communities.

But it was in the midst of a desert.

And, along with a lot of sprinkler-fed greenery,

It had some plant and animal life we non-desert folks don’t see every day.

I took a walk around the hotel grounds with my two-year-old grandson.

And introduced him to some of those wonders.

Lizards, roadrunners, desert flowers and cactus.

We saw one brightly colored, particularly eye-catching plant.

And we both touched its flowers.

No problem—until we touched something else; then we were both in pain.

With tiny, short, hair-like, almost invisible needles in our finger tips.

We didn’t even feel them going in.

But once lodged in our fingers, they hurt whenever we touched something.

We had to go back to our room and closely examine our hands under a bright lamp.

And get the light just right before we could even see the needles to pluck them out.

I felt guilty for letting my little grandson touch the plant.

And a bit foolish for knowing so little about the desert.

Jesus went out into a place very different from Palm Desert.

He went to a place of quiet solitude.

A place where he was totally alone, away from all the distractions of daily life.

A place where he could engage with only his own thoughts and with the Spirits.

This is the kind of setting we seek to enter during Lent.

Not physically—but figuratively, mentally and spiritually.

Enter that state of mind where we can shut out all the noise of the day.

Where we can concentrate on taking a long, careful, quiet look inward.

And really engage our own thoughts and examine our lives.

Where we can present our questions to God and hope to hear his answers.

We might examine and discuss how we're doing with those three major activities.

Prayer, fasting and almsgiving.

Almsgiving involves more than money or material goods like the crops in our first reading.

It also includes giving our time and talent.

Prayer includes thanksgiving as in that first reading, and in Putin's short statement.

And praise, as in our second reading.

And petition—seeking help and guidance—as in our psalm.

All of those types of prayer can include quiet conversation and listening.

Fasting includes giving up food.

But it also includes giving up other possessions and activities.

As we reflect on all those things we may see opportunities for action.

We might decide to give something up, or to take something on.

To do something extra.

Or to just try harder at the things we’re already doing and supposed to do.

It’s easy to feel that we’re not doing enough.

And that’s very often true.

Wondering what's enough always reminds me of Jesus’ words regarding our duty as servants.

When you have done all you have been commanded, say,

‘We are unprofitable servants; we have done what we were obliged to do.’ (Lk 17:10)

So, can anything we do really be extra?

As we discuss that with God, we might hear–Hey, your plate is full, just keep up the good work.

If that's the answer we get, that may be fine.

But we might want to double check a few times to make sure whose voice is telling us that.

As we heard in our Gospel, the devil can be pretty crafty—he'll even resort to quoting Scripture.

As we examine our lives, and decide on next steps,

We might take some timely guidance in discernment and decision-making from Pope Benedict.

Nearly all popes have left it to the unquestionable certainty of death to end their ministry.

But Benedict relied on what he heard in his conversations with God.

In his resignation address he said:

After having repeatedly examined my conscience before God,

I have come to the certainty that my strengths, due to an advanced age,

are no longer suited to an adequate exercise of the Petrine ministry.

The decision he labored over may have been orders of magnitude more important than ours.

But the process Benedict used to reach it is the same process we should follow.

Talk to God … Pray … Repeatedly.

Work through the details. Examine our conscience.

Hear God’s direction; find that certainty.

If we examine ourselves in the right light, we may see the things that are hurting us.

Things that are holding us back. 

Hurtful things we can pluck out of our lives.

Or we may see opportunities that we've never seen before.

Benedict’s decision may have been far more important than ours in many ways.

It was certainly more newsworthy; it certainly has a greater immediate impact on more people.

But our own Lenten decision is almost certainly of greater importance to us individually.

It could be the start of a new conversion, a rekindling, a first step on a new course.

First Sunday of Lent

LK 4:1-13                                 Read this Scripture @usccb.org  

Oh So Peaceful and Serene

Poor Jud is dead, a candle lights his head.

He’s lookin oh so peaceful and serene …

He looks like he’s asleep.

It’s a shame that he won’t keep.

But it’s summer and we’re runnin out of ice.

Dark humor from the show Oklahoma.

As they try to convince poor Jud how lovely things would be—if he would just hang himself.

In the paintings of the death of Jairus’ daughter, she always looks peaceful and serene.

But the family and the servants and the mourners all knew that she was dead.

It’s only Jesus who claims that she was merely sleeping.

And the people laugh at him for saying that.

So was Jesus lying?

Trying to downplay the miracle he was about to perform?

Actually, she was dead.

But Jesus was about to change that, and thereby make his statement true.

He was about to make her death only temporary.

So she was, at least in a figurative sense, merely sleeping.

Jairus’ daughter was one of three people we know of who Jesus raised from the dead.

The son of the widow of Nain was another—raised from his coffin in his funeral procession.

And of course, Lazarus—raised after three days in the tomb.

All three raisings dramatically demonstrated Jesus’ supernatural powers.

All three were prompted by Jesus’ compassion for the grieving relatives.

These dearly beloved and departed people were restored to their families.

They were brought back from death to continue this interrupted life.

Restored—but only for a time.

Like the ice stored for a frontier Oklahoma summer, their time was limited.

Nothing of this world lasts forever.

They were destined to die again.

But at a more convenient time, a less painful time for their families.

There’s a lot we can learn from these great miracles.

His display of power over nature should help us believe that Jesus is who he said he was.

His display of compassion should help us follow his example.

The ability of people to ignore his miracles should warn us of the fragility of the gift of faith.

We might feel tempted to envy Jairus and his wife, and the widow of Nain.

And Lazarus’ sisters, Martha and Mary.

Especially when we lose a loved one to death.

We might wish that Jesus was here now to restore our loved one to us.

But there's no need for envy; he’s provided something even better for us.

Not a mere raising back to this life.

But resurrection and reunion with our loved ones into a new eternal life.

A life of true peace and serenity--and joy.

A life that will never melt away.

Tuesday, Fourth Week of Ordinary Time

MK 5:21-43                                 Read this Scripture @usccb.org