Weeds

A couple years ago I had a brief encounter with a most interesting man.

Dominic was a very affable fellow.

And he struck up a conversation with me.

We quickly found that we had a few things in common.

He’d spent his teen years in Connecticut

As had I.

He’d moved to NY, and often took the subway out to Shea Stadium to see the Mets.

I used to take the train from Hartford and go to Shea Stadium when my favorite team,

the Cincinnati Reds, came to NY.

He had considered going to law school – I had.

We were also different in many ways.

Nick, as he preferred to be called,

Was probably twenty years younger than me.

And much blacker than me.

He’d spent a number of years in the Marine Corps.

And had spent many of those years in Europe and the Middle East.

I was never in the military, and have spent only brief vacations in Europe.

Nick was clearly an intelligent person.

He was quite well spoken, well read, and well educated.

He told me that he’d recently written a book about a black soldier.

And he pulled a copy from his duffle bag to show me.

He said it was available on Amazon.

He spoke Spanish and at least a bit of German.

When I referred to someone as a “good chap”,

Nick launched into a strong British accent and began to tell me about his time in London.

What struck me most about Nick,

What I can’t forget about Nick,

Was the odd circumstance of our meeting.

We met in a vacant field over by where New York Avenue crosses I-395.

A few of us from St Joseph’s were over there.

Feeding the homeless.

I didn’t notice him at first.

But Nick was there in the field, mixed in among the crowd.

Standing there with the other homeless.

Well, not all were homeless.

Some have a place to live.

But they can’t afford an apartment and food too.

A few were elderly poor.

Some were people just temporarily down on their luck.

Others had alcohol or drug addictions.

Probably most had mental health issues to some degree.

It wasn’t until I heard a little commotion behind me

That I turned and saw Nick.

He was good-naturedly bantering with a couple others in the soup line.

Those others seemed to have been on the verge of an argument.

But Nick had diffused the situation with his humor.

And that’s when our conversation began.

It continued off-and-on as the food was distributed.

A few sentences here, a few comments there.

A joke, a story.

And then the crowd began to drift away from the field.

Nick was telling me about London

When he noticed that his group was already heading down the block.

He said, Gotta run, where the crowd goes, the fool must follow.

And he was gone.

But I keep thinking – he should never have been in that cluster in the field.

Maybe that’s why I can’t forget him.

With a superficial look at the crowd that sprang up that day in that field

Any one of us might have taken it for a field of weeds.

Whether the weeds represent the bad, among the good wheat.

Or whether the weeds represent the worthless, among the valuable wheat.

We’re in no position to judge the wheat from the weeds.

That’s why Jesus tells us in his parable to let them grow together.

Our view is too often a superficial view.

Nick might have easily been mistaken for one of the weeds.

Who’s to say there were any weeds in that field that day.

Even when we think we’re looking carefully and closely

We can only see so far beyond the purely superficial.

Only God can see into the heart.

So, whenever we catch ourselves slipping into the trap of judging others,

Let’s pull ourselves back to our proper role.

The role of giving the assistance, and setting the example

That will help the Spirit spread the Kingdom of Heaven right here on earth.

Anything is possible in the Kingdom of Heaven.

If we do our part

Perhaps the Spirit will touch any true weeds and transform them into true wheat.

And when Jesus comes with his angels at the close of the age

The Spirit will have already completed his work.

And the angels will find no weeds to destroy.

Tuesday of the 17th Week in Ordinary Time

Mt 13:24-43           Read this Scripture @usccb.org 
(OK, I fudged the link to give the full parable)

Hey, You're Family

A good friend might say, Hey, I’m going to treat you like family!

We might say in return, Gee, I hope you’ll treat me better than that!

None of us has a perfect family.

But, like many, I’m blessed with a great family—both immediate and extended.

Unfortunately that’s not the case for everyone.

Our family can be our basic foundation of great love and loyalty and strength.

Or a hotbed of discontent, disappointment, rivalry and betrayal

Or a mix of many of those things.

Even those contradictory things.

Family relationships can be complex.

Some of us no longer have our families.

We may be the last surviving member of a family.

We may be distant or estranged from our family.

Families don’t always measure up to the ideal image the term conjures up.

The old lament is true (at least with our blood relatives).

You can pick your friends but you can’t pick your family.

And for some of us our friends are, in effect, our family.

We might feel more closely bound to a group of good friends than to our family.

We might even call that group our “family”.

But the deep bonds of our childhood family identity remain.

Even when family relationships are far less than ideal.

You can’t choose them, and you can’t lose them.

And that image of the ideal family also remains.

When someone tells us we’re like a brother or a sister—that we’re like family—

They’re referring to that ideal.

They’re giving us an extreme compliment. 

So what does Jesus mean with his words today?

Whoever does the will of my heavenly Father is my brother and sister and mother.

He’s certainly not belittling Mary or his other natural relatives.

He’s extending that extreme compliment to each of us.

Even more, he’s reminding us that we are indeed his family.

We’re all truly brothers and sisters to each other and to him.

We all have but one common Father—in heaven.

He’s saying he wants us to be as close to him as that ideal brother or sister or mother.

And he’s telling us how to reach that ideal—by doing the Father’s will.

He’s urging us to help deepen our intimate familial bond with him.

Tuesday of the 16th Week in Ordinary Time

Mt 12:46-50           Read this Scripture @usccb.org 

Don't Worry---Be Happy

Don’t Worry—Be Happy.

Advice from a hit song some years ago.

A nice simple approach to life.

The singer/writer, Bobby Ferrin, said he got the phrase from an Indian guru’s poster.

Simple advice, but no easier to follow today than it was two thousand years ago,

Where we look in on Martha.

Martha is anxious and worried about many things.

Jesus is stopping in for a visit.

She’s got preparations to make.

She’s got a guest to welcome and serve.

Jesus is a good friend.

He’s often come to her home to visit her and her sister Mary and their brother Lazarus.

But a little formal hospitality is part of their culture.

Jesus may be a friend, but he’s also an important teacher and leader.

And Martha wants everything to go smoothly.

It’s not hard to relate to Martha.

We’re all anxious and worried about many things.

We’re all burdened with responsibilities and work.

Even if they’re responsibilities we’re happy to take on.

And work we love to do.

They’re still burdens—on our limited time if nothing more.

We start out as carefree children.

But soon we have classes to take, tests to pass.

Chores to do, rules to obey.

Skills to learn.

Then, we’ve got jobs to find.

Careers to pursue.

Bills to pay.

Homes to keep.

Families to care for.

And a hundred other things.

Necessary things.

It’s good to be busy.

But sometimes our days are too full.

Too full of activities and too full of anxieties.

Financial worries, health worries, worries about friends and family.

Worries about the world.

For some of us it’s an occasional problem.

For some of us it seems never ending.

We’re tense, and tired, and sleep deprived.

And even if we find time to sleep, we’re so wound up we can’t.

We suffer insomnia and even depression.

Amid all that anxiety and busyness, it’s easy to miss out on the better part of life.

That part that Martha’s sister Mary takes up in today’s Gospel.

Martha bounces around, frazzled with all that needs to be done.

Mary quietly sits listening to Jesus, enjoying his company and conversation.

Martha’s so frustrated and overworked that she complains to her guest.

Hey Jesus, don’t you care that I’m stuck alone with all this work?

Tell Mary to help me.

Martha’s surprised, and maybe we are too,

When Jesus approves of Mary’s slacker behavior.

Jesus tells her, in effect:

Lighten up Martha, there’s a better choice here.

Sure, the preparing and the serving is important.

But there’s a balance to be struck.

You’re not just a servant.

You’re my friend.

I didn’t come just to be served.

I’m here with you now to visit.

I’ve got things to tell you.

And I’d like for you to listen.

We should be enjoying each other’s company.

What I have to tell you can ease your anxieties.

You were made to be happy.

But you’re looking in the wrong places.

I can guide you to that fundamental happiness that lets you put everything in perspective.

Take a break from the preparation and service and busyness.

It can wait a little while.

There will be plenty of time for that later.

We live in a hyper-busy world today.

It takes some effort to balance our priorities.

Yes, there’s much work to do.

But not so much that we need to deprive ourselves of the better part.

So, let’s be sure to reserve “quality time” to spend with our families and friends.

And at least a little time, each day, to welcome our friend Jesus.

And to do some quality listening. 

16th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Lk 10:38-42           Read this Scripture @usccb.org 

Scary Stuff

Scary stuff.

Judgment Day.

Jesus warns the people of his time and his place that judgment awaits them.

And that judgment will be harsh for those who failed to repent.

Failed to look at their lives and admit to the wrongs they had done.

Failed to feel any remorse for those wrongs.

Failed to feel any desire to alter course or make amends for those wrongs.

Chorazin and Bethsaida and Capernaum should have repented.

Jesus lived among them—they knew all about him.

They heard him preach; they witnessed his miracles.

They had been given much more than Tyre and Sidon and Sodom.

And to whom much is given, much is expected.

Much has also been given to Washington and Boston and Hartford and Covington.

And vast numbers of us throughout today’s world.

We know all about Jesus and his message.

His miracles, his Good News, his call for repentance.

So Jesus’ warning extends to us too.

At Mass, after the homily, we voice our prayers of the faithful; our petitions.

Sometimes we specifically pray for those who have not heard the Gospel.

And for those who have heard it but rejected it.

Is there hope for those people?

Certainly those who have never heard the Gospel can’t be punished for that.

But how about those who heard it and rejected it; who failed to repent?

Is there still hope for them?

I have hope for them.

Maybe there’s hope up to their very last moment.

We believe that there’s a particular judgment immediately after death.

When we alone face up to the life we’ve lived and learn of our eternal fate.

(Before the general judgment at the end of time.)

At least one theologian has speculated that we also get one final chance for repentance.

In the instant before death actually occurs.

That Jesus comes to those needing that last chance and offers them that opportunity.

That in his great mercy God gives us this final chance to accept salvation.

I like that.

That’s the hope I have for all those who might need it.

Can we count on that last chance?

No.

Nobody really knows the precise details on death and judgment.

But we can hope and pray that—somehow—

God does gather each one of us, from all the nations, into the peace of His Kingdom.

Tuesday of the 15th Week in Ordinary Time

Mt 11:20-24           Read this Scripture @usccb.org 

Penetential Rite:
You came to gather the nations into the peace of God’s Kingdom.
Lord have mercy.

You come to us in word and sacrament to strengthen us in holiness.
Christ have mercy.

You will come in glory with salvation for your people.
Lord have mercy.

United We Stand --- Divided We Fall

Today’s short Gospel passage seems to jump all over the place.

First, Jesus drives out a demon.

And the Pharisees say he did it by the power of the Prince of Demons.

Then Jesus has pity for the people and goes to all the towns and villages.

Teaching, proclaiming the Good News, and curing every disease and illness.

And finally, he tells us The harvest is abundant but the laborers are few.

It seems like a mishmash of three somewhat disjointed messages.

But for me, it immediately called to mind a front-page story from this Sunday’s Post.

A story of feeding hungry children in rural Tennessee—in Appalachia.

We spend billions of our federal tax dollars on school lunch programs.

And millions of our American children desperately need that free lunch.

For many, it’s their main meal of the day.

But in the summer, when school is out, there is no free lunch.

So we spend billions more on summer lunch programs.

The article focuses on a program that buses those lunches out to the kids.

A school bus that serves as a lunch wagon winds through the hills and hollows every day.

Kids wait at the small trailer parks and other community sites.

When the bus comes, they each get a bag lunch, and they eat it in the bus.

This ensures that the kids are the ones getting the food— and that each gets only one bag.

The article includes a lot of (online) pictures of the kids.

And some background details about the tough economy, the depressed area,

The lost jobs, and folks struggling to get by.

It shows some of the real people behind the statistics.

Child hunger in America may not rank among the world’s greatest tragedies.

But it is a tragic suffering.

And one we ought to be able to do something about.

Is the lunch bus a flagrant waste of taxpayer dollars?

Is the lunch bus an ideal solution?

Neither.

But kids need to keep eating while we all work together to find better solutions.

So, how does the lunch bus touch on the three messages of today’s Gospel?

Jesus’ heart was filled with pity.

And he went to all the villages to spread the Good News and cure the suffering.

We, through our dollars and our caring, send that bus to visit all the creeks and hollows.

Easing the suffering and carrying at least some implication of the Good News.

Jesus said The harvest is abundant but the laborers are few.

He was speaking primarily of harvesting souls.

And, indeed, we’re still called to that labor.

But those words also carry an additional, direct message for us in America today.

They aptly describe our food situation.

We have an abundance of food, and too few laboring to ensure that it’s distributed fairly.

That leaves the matter of driving out demons.

Matthew doesn’t mention it here, but Jesus did have a good answer to those Pharisees.

An answer that echoes through Appalachian Kentucky.

The motto of my native state.

United we stand—Divided we fall.

The Pharisees said Jesus drove out demons by the power of the Prince of Demons.

Jesus answered that that was crazy talk.

A kingdom divided against itself cannot stand.

Those words too, carry an additional, direct message for us in America today.

Tuesday of the 14th Week in Ordinary Time

Mt 9:32-38                                 Read this Scripture @usccb.org 

                                                                                   Read the Washington Post Article

Calm

Matthew, Mark, Luke and Gene all wrote about Jesus calming the storm.

We heard Matthew’s account today.

Most of us have heard what Gene had to say too—that’s Gene MacLellan.

His 1971 hit song was recorded by many top stars including:

Elvis Presley, Joan Baez, Johnny Cash, Perry Como, Ocean, 

Loretta Lynn, Lynn Anderson and Anne Murray.

Put your hand in the hand of the man who stilled the waters.

Put your hand in the hand of the man who calmed the sea.

Take a look at yourself and then you can look at others differently.

By puttin’ your hand in the hand of the man from Galilee.

When we take a look at the apostles

They don’t look too good.

How could they have so little faith?

Jesus criticized them a number of times for their puny faith.

He said that the centurion, a Roman, showed greater faith than he’d found in them.

He said their faith was smaller than a mustard seed.

The apostles knew Jesus personally.

They heard him teach with unprecedented wisdom and authority.

They were eye witnesses to his many healings and other miracles.

And yet they still questioned his power.

And wondered who he was.

How could they be so slow to get it?

When they were caught in a violent storm

They were terrified.

Even though their all-powerful friend was right there with them.

They had too little faith to see that his very presence with them

Was enough to save them from any true disaster.

But who are we to criticize the apostles for their little faith?

When we take a look at ourselves

We see that we’d better look at them differently.

Because we see that we’re just like them.

So often, when we’re caught in one of life’s violent storms

We lose focus on what this life is really all about.

We become just as terrified as the apostles were.

Even though our all-powerful friend is right there with us.

If we keep ourselves close at hand to Jesus

He’ll help us to keep our focus.

Then we can not only look at others differently.

But we can also look at storms differently.-

We just gotta put our hand in the hand of the man from Galilee.

Tuesday of the 13th Week in Ordinary Time

Mt 8:23-27                                 Read this Scripture @usccb.org