Fame!

Always hoped that I'd be an Apostle.

Knew that I could make it if I tried.

Then when we retire we can write the Gospels.

So they'll still talk about us when we've died.

Tim Rice's lyrics from Jesus Christ Superstar.

As the Apostles recline at the Last Supper table.

Simon and Jude (also called Judas) did earn a measure of fame.

We are still talking about them—two thousand years since when they died.

This very day, as they share their joint Feast Day.

Loosely speaking, we call the day we commemorate a saint his or her feast day.

But more precisely, there are different levels of feast days on the liturgical calendar.

Some saints get only an optional memorial; they're not necessarily even mentioned at Mass.

More famous saints get an obligatory memorial.

And still more famous saints, like these Apostles, get a bona fide Feast day.

Only a few of the most famous saints receive an even higher recognition.

Like Mary and Joseph, John the Baptist, and Peter and Paul.

They each have multiple feasts, and many of those rise to the rank of Solemnities.

The saints we remember today are not the most famous saints.

Not even the most famous Simon—Simon Peter.

Nor the most infamous Judas—Judas Iscariot.

These are Simon the Zealot, and Jude, Son of James.

As with most of the Apostles, there's very little that we really know about them.

But we do know that Jesus chose them as Apostles.

And that that they carried out the mission he gave them of spreading the word.

Tradition tells us that they were eventually martyred.

Simon is one of the most obscure Apostles.

He's believed to have worked together with Jude.

Carrying the Gospel to Palestine, Lebanon and Persia.

Jude is sometimes called the brother of Jesus—he may have been a cousin, or Joseph's son.

He has some fame as the patron of hopeless causes, and patron of many hospitals.

I doubt the Tim Rice's lyrics really capture the true sense of the Apostles' ambition.

Although there are those accounts of pride,
Like their arguing over who among them was greatest.

But by the time of the Last Supper they were developing a better understanding of their mission.

Their call, as Apostles, to lead the Church.

But even more, their basic as disciples to work toward their own glorious reward.

And to help bring others along by spreading the Good News.

To see that, as our responsorial psalm says today:

Their message goes out through all the earth.

Today, each one of us has inherited that disciple calling.

As we strive to follow it we might find a better statement of true success and fame.

In a another musical.

The lyricist may have had a less glorious, more worldly, vision in mind.

But the refrain is right on target.

Fame! I'm gonna live forever.

I'm gonna learn how to fly high.

Fame! I'm gonna make it to heaven.

Light up the sky like a flame.

Tuesday, 30th Week of  Ordinary Time
Feast of St Simon & St Jude

Lk 6:12-16      Read this Scripture @usccb.org

Always Prepared

Be always prepared.

He may come even in the second or third watch of the night.

Every month a few friends and I, former co-workers, meet for breakfast at a diner.

Last week we were surprised when our friend Bob showed up.

Bob had heart surgery a couple years ago when he was about 50.

Something went wrong and he wound up partially paralyzed and unable to speak.

He's improved a little since then.

He's mentally sharp but still has great difficulty speaking.

And he still suffers the paralysis and he's wheelchair-bound and frail.

His wife, Gretchen, has been taking good care of him.

She's the one who brought him to the breakfast to see his old friends.

Yesterday, I got a phone call from Bob's neighbor.

From his voice, I immediately sensed that something was wrong.

I thought, Uh-oh, something's happened to Bob.

He looked pretty good just last week.

The neighbor said he had some bad news.

Sometime during the night, Gretchen had died in her sleep.

We all have personal knowledge of sudden, unexpected deaths.

And we hear about more of them every day in the news.

Accidents, heart attacks, and a dozen other causes.

We know that our lives can change—or end—in a second.

We see it happen all around us but, as with so many unpleasant things,

Our human tendency is to dismiss the thought that this could happen to us.

No doubt there are some people—even healthy people in safe places—

Who fully grasp the reality of their own impending death.

They're living life to the fullest.

Making every day count.

And spiritually, they're ready, prepared, waiting for the Master's return.

Busy storing up treasures in heaven.

But for many of us, our own death still seems a little unreal.

Intellectually, we know it's coming.

We're not particularly afraid to think about it.

We can talk about it.

But deep down, emotionally, there's still some stubborn denial.

It seems that at some level we're still telling ourselves:

If we truly are going to die—someday.

I mean, for real ... actually die.

We'll have plenty of time to prepare for that when we see it coming.

Won't we?

Tuesday, 29th Week of  Ordinary Time

Lk 12:35-38        Read this Scripture @usccb.org

Image Matters

Perhaps you heard of the flap between the Senate candidates in Kentucky, my native state.

One candidate used an ancient, time-proven tactic—discredit your opponent.

Force him to say something he doesn't want to say.

He plotted and figured he'd found a perfect question to force a damaging answer.

Whatever answer she gave, it would hurt her with one large group of voters or another.

So he asked his most damning question … 

Did you vote for Obama for president?

He had every reason to assume she did—after all, she was a Democratic Party politician.

If she said Yes, she'd associate herself with Obama.
Something she'd evidently been trying hard to avoid.
Because many Kentuckians dislike him.

If she happened to say No, many voters would think she was either dishonest or disloyal.

If she wouldn't answer, she'd seem defensive and a bit foolish.

His question would damage her no matter how she answered.

She chose option #3; she refused to answer.

The best response she could come up with was about as lame as the question:

In America we have a secret ballot and it's improper to ask people who they voted for.

If she had today's Gospel in mind she might have been inspired to a more clever response.

Or at least a more colorful response; something like:

Do for the party what is owed to the party, and for Kentucky what is owed to Kentucky.

Our Gospel tells us, the Pharisees went off and plotted.

They figured they'd found the perfect question to squelch Jesus' popularity.

They'd ask him, Should we pay taxes to Caesar or not?

If Jesus answered, Don't pay, the Romans would see him as a dangerous rabble rouser.

They'd likely arrest him and maybe even put him to death.

Problem solved.

If he answered, Pay, the crowd would see him as supporting the hated, oppressive Romans.

Either way, Jesus loses—maybe just his popularity, maybe his life.

They were bursting with anticipation when they asked their question.

Circling in for the kill.

Which trap would Jesus step into?

Well, as we see, they got a big surprise.

He didn't step into their trap at all.

He outmaneuvered them.

He didn't say Yes or No, or even refuse to answer.

He gave a clever and wise answer that raised him even higher in the crowd's esteem.

An answer that the Romans would approve of as well.

But first, he drew the crowd deeper into the lesson with a little demonstration.

Asking the Pharisees to show him the coin used for paying the tax.

The Pharisees, by the way, should not have been carrying such a coin.

And having it, showed their hypocrisy.

Jewish law called for Jews to reject the Roman money and carry Jewish coins.

That's one reason they had moneychangers.

To trade-in any Roman coins they received and get Jewish coins.

So, with the Pharisee's Roman coin in hand—a coin everyone was familiar with—

Jesus called everyone's attention to the image it bore.

It was made in Caesar's image.

Ultimately, it belonged to Caesar.

So, give it back to Caesar.

I can't read this Gospel without being impressed at the ease with which Jesus escaped the trap.

But his answer went well beyond clever escape.

He moved the lesson on hypocrisy and taxes up a few notches to a fundamental lesson on life.

(An appropriate lesson for this Mission Sunday.

When we're reminded not only to support the worldwide work of missionaries.

But also to attend to our own primary mission in life.)

He said not only, Repay to Caesar what belongs to Caesar.

But more importantly, Repay to God what belongs to God.

What do we have that belongs to God?

Well—everything.

But in particular, extending the coin demonstration Jesus gave,

What do we have that's made in the image and likeness of God?

Of course, it's us, our very selves.

That's what belongs to God.

That's what we should repay, give back, to God.

How do we give ourselves back to God?

Certainly, by the way we acknowledge Him, by the way we live.

My mother-in-law has a little plaque on her wall with the old saying:

What we are is God's gift to us.

What we become is our gift to God.

St Ignatius of Loyola gives more detailed guidance with a prayer that he passed down to us.

Years ago, when I first read it, I found it a bit shocking.

Maybe I was taking it too literally.

Or maybe I wasn't.

My first impression was that the prayer was asking to have everything taken away from us.

How could I live without the most basic human abilities and necessities?

What good would I be to God or myself or anyone?

But then I realized that the prayer doesn't ask that these things be taken away and lost.

It simply asks that they be re-purposed.

Properly purposed.

We can pray with Ignatius:

Take Lord and receive, all my liberty,

My memory, my understanding, and my entire will.

All that I have and call my own.

You have given it all to me.

To you, Lord, I return it. 
Everything is yours.

Do with it what you will.

Give me only your love and your grace.

That is enough for me.

29th Sunday of  Ordinary Time

Mt 22:15-21          Read this Scripture @usccb.org

Shiny

Once or twice a week I walk over to the school at 10^th and F Streets to pick up my grandson.

It takes me an easy ten minute walk to get over there.

But leading him on our journey home is never so quick or easy.

It's not that his six-year-old legs can't keep up.

It's because he wants to stop and inspect every piece of shiny junk he sees on the sidewalk.

Pick it up and put it in his pocket.

A bottle cap, a smooth pebble, a piece of gold or silver foil, a nail.

I tell him we don't want to bring all that junk home with us.

He tells me one man's trash is another man's treasure.

Last week he found a fancy earring with a dozen dangling cut-glass gems.

Reinforced with such a prize,

I don't imagine he'll be lifting his eyes from the sidewalk anytime soon.

And I can't blame him too much.

It's easy for all of us to be attracted to—and distracted by—shiny things.

Grown-up things.

A shiny new car.

A shiny new 60-inch TV.

A bright new house.

A bright new career opportunity.
Bright ideas on how to feel comfortable about ourselves and our lives. 

Some of those may be good things in themselves.
But all are distractions from what's most important in our journey.

All things that draw us to take our eyes off the true prize.

All things that can create such a glare that it becomes hard to focus on the true priorities.

We can easily become like that Pharisee in today's Gospel.

Dwelling on superficial things, and disregarding deeper things.

That Pharisee wasn't a particularly bad guy.

He invited Jesus into his home.

He was amazed that Jesus didn't follow the washing ritual.

He was probably shocked when Jesus told him he, a Pharisee, was the one on the wrong track.

We don't know if he accepted that correction or not—perhaps he did.

But, we can learn from that Pharisee's experience.

Learn to take a closer, deeper look at ourselves.

We all need encouragement and even a periodic course correction.

We can invite Jesus in and listen for his guidance.

If he has some criticism for us, we can take it in consolation.

Knowing that he's come to save us, not to condemn us.

He's come to lead us on our journey home.

To help us avoid being side-tracked by the glitter and the unimportant things.

Tuesday, 28th Week of  Ordinary Time

Lk 11:37-41        Read this Scripture @usccb.or

Sit

Don't just sit there, get out and do something!

The New Evangelization movement calls us to action.

Jesus repeatedly calls us to action.

We're not saved by faith alone, but faith and action.

Just yesterday in our Gospel reading, Jesus was pushing for action.

Giving us the story of the Good Samaritan.

Showing it's not enough to just understand that we should love our neighbor.

Or to think about loving our neighbor.

Or to talk about loving our neighbor.

We have to get out there and do it.

Action!

Then we have today's Gospel.

The very next verse after the story of the Good Samaritan.

Jesus comes to the home of Martha and Mary.

Martha's in high-gear action.

Trying to serve her guest.

She's rushing everywhere; she's beside herself.

She complains that Mary is just sitting there.

Surely Jesus will praise Martha and sympathize with her complaint against Mary.

But no, Jesus says Mary—just sitting there with him—has chosen the better part.

And it will not be taken from her.

When we look more closely, we realize Mary isn't just sitting there.

She's taking the most appropriate action to honor her guest.

She knows that he's a prophet with a message to deliver.

And she's giving him her full attention—listening to his message.

The word listen is a verb—an action word.

She's engaged in an act of acknowledgment, acceptance and attentiveness.

She's engaged in action that not only honors her guest,

But at the same time increases her own wisdom, understanding and knowledge.

She's engaged in preparatory action that will shape her and make her better able to serve.

She has seized a fleeting opportunity to sit with Jesus and listen to him.

Our opportunities are not so limited.

We can sit there with Jesus just about anytime we want.

We can acknowledge, welcome and honor his presence.

His Spirit dwelling right here within us.

We may be frantically racing around like Martha.

But we can settle down like Mary.

Sit and listen for what his Spirit has to tell us.

Once quieted, we can hear his instruction and his guidance.

Then, with our interior preparation done, we're more ready.

Then we can get out there and do something.

Tuesday, 27th Week of  Ordinary Time

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