Wonder Bread

Wonder Bread helps build strong bodies twelve ways.

That’s an ad slogan that goes all the way back to the 1950s.

The TV ad showed a diagram of building blocks labeled with the bread's 12 benefits.

As a kid I really liked Wonder Bread; (actually, I still do.)

Especially with a little Miracle Whip and American cheese and some bologna.

Today some people shun highly processed foods like Wonder Bread.

(Not to mention Miracle Whip and American cheese and bologna.)

They say we eat too many airy, empty calories.

They think the heavy, 12-grain breads are better.

Those Wonder Bread building blocks came to mind as I thought of the temple stones.

And Jesus’ words.

The days will come when there will not be left one stone upon another.

Those stone building blocks might have been carefully joined together.

But they were destined to be broken apart.

Worldly material things just don’t last.

At another time, Jesus spoke of rebuilding the temple in three days.

Then, he was using the temple as a symbol for his body.

Today, he’s talking more about the actual temple building, and other material things.

But that symbolic link to his body is probably what triggered my Wonder Bread memory.

And of course, the body, too, is just a material thing.

And it will break down.

Some of us are breaking down already.

(Actually all of us are, it’s just more noticeable for some of us.)

But there’s Good News regarding our material bodies.

And its good news that comes along with the end times.

Times that we generally have a tendency to dread.

Angels harvesting the earth with their sickles.
The earthquakes and plagues and famines and wars, and false prophets.

And awesome sights and mighty signs from the sky.

Most likely we'll all have gone through our own end times,

Long before the world goes though its.

Our souls will have long left our dead, material bodies.

And it's the final end times that will bring along the restoration of our bodies.

They’ll be reunited with our spirits.

We’ll be whole human beings again.

Body and soul joined together.

But not these old worldly material, bodies we have today.

New, glorified bodies like Jesus’ own.

Like the one he rebuilt in three days.

And our glorified bodies won’t have been built up by Miracle Whip and Wonder Bread.

But by the miracle of the true Wonder Bread.

The bread that is offered from this altar every day.

Tuesday, 34th Week of  Ordinary Time

Lk 21:5-11      Read this Scripture @usccb.org

Cold or Hot

We feel the cold setting in; the days have grown short.

We rustle our way down the streets through heaps of dead leaves.

Next Sunday is the last Sunday of the Church Year.

The earth and the calendar draw our thoughts to the end times.

We’ve lived another year.

It's time for another annual inventory.

Like John's assessment of the Churches in our reading from Revelation.

It's time for us to take a hard, honest look at ourselves.

I wish you were either cold or hot.
Because you are lukewarm, neither hot nor cold,
I will spit you out of my mouth.

Harsh, graphic—and surprising—words.

When it comes to spiritual temperature,

It would seem better to be warm, even just lukewarm, than to be cold.

But, not so—according to what John heard the Lord say.

Are we like those folks at the Church at Sardis?

Living with an overblown, self-contented estimation of our own goodness?

Suffering from the same delusion as those lukewarm members of the Church at Laodicea?

When the Lord says he wishes we were either hot or cold.

He clearly doesn’t mean that one is as good as the other.

Ultimately, he wants us to be hot—hearts aflame with spiritual fervor.

So, why would he prefer the cold to the warm?

Maybe because the cold know they’re cold; have to admit they’re cold.

But the lukewarm can tell themselves that they’re okay.

I’m not cold; I’m hot enough.

If we weren’t comfortably warm with self-satisfaction, we’d have a better chance of improving.

If we knew we were cold we’d have no doubt.

We’d know that we hadn’t given the Lord full access to us.

We’d know that he’s still out there knocking at our door.

If we weren't contentedly warm, it would be easier to get fired up like Zacchaeus.

Ready to do anything to get closer to Jesus.

Eager to invite him in—spend time with him.

So what's our spiritual temperature?

The fact that we’re here listening to the Scripture today shows we’re not cold.

But that very scripture warns us—

The Lord doesn’t want us to be stalled-out in the middle.

And, if we’re only warm, it’s going to take some extra effort to heat things up.

There’s some accidental wisdom in that old country-western song by Jerry Reed:

When you’re hot you’re hot.

When you’re not—you’re not.

Tuesday, 33rd Week of  Ordinary Time

Rev 3:1-6, 14-12     Lk 19:1-10      Read this Scripture @usccb.org

Our People

In First Century Jerusalem, a talent was a measure of weight.

Especially a measure of weight for precious metals.

It varied in different countries, but it was always a heavy weight.

In Jerusalem it was 130 pounds.

One talent of gold today would be worth about $2 Million.

But we no longer think of talent as a measure of weight.

In normal usage today, a talent is a natural ability or skill.

We might have a talent for singing or playing a musical instrument.

Or for writing, or inventing, or hitting a baseball.

Actually, Jesus's parable is how the word talent got its new meaning.

At the deeper level of the parable, Jesus wasn't taking about money or gold.

Listeners knew that he was talking about the natural gifts that have been given to us.

The skills and the abilities.

His analogy was so powerful that we adopted that meaning as the primary meaning of the word.

In the sense of measures of gold, five talents was a lot—about $10 Million worth.

But in the sense of natural abilities and skills, five is a pretty small number.

If we're thinking of only major, unique, exceptional skills and abilities, five may be a lot.

But we all have dozens of more common natural human skills.

More common—taken for granted—but still very valuable.

We're called to share all those talents.

To not bury them, but to put them to use in service to others.

So that they can be multiplied.

At baptism each of us was anointed priest, prophet and king.

Our responsibility as members of the general priesthood is to actively participate in the Mass.

Our responsibility as prophets is to spread the Good News—to evangelize.

Our responsibility as kings and queens is to tend to the needs of our people.

But who are our people?

Certainly our inner circle.

Our spouses, our children, our families, our circle of friends.

Our neighbors.

But like the ripples from a pebble tossed into a still pond, the circle just keeps growing.

Until it encompasses everyone; all our neighbors.

The two Great Commandments sum up our obligation to our neighbors.

We are to love God with all our being, and love our neighbor as ourselves.

That's why God gave us all the talents that we have.

To serve Him and to serve others.

We've all heard of the three T's that we're called to share with our neighbor.

Our time, our talent and our treasure.

The three overlap a bit.

If we're sharing our talent, we're also sharing our time.

If we're sharing our treasure, we're sharing the product of our time and talent.

If we're sharing our time, we're probably using some talent,

And giving up some opportunity to acquire more treasure.

It seems we most often hear of these three T's in conjunction with a request for money.

A request to share our treasure.

But today, we're most specifically called to share our talent.

And to share it more broadly.

There's great need among our people.

And there's great opportunity for every one of us to help.

For some of us sharing our talents more broadly is an easy, natural ability.

You might say some of us have a talent for it.

For others of us, it can seem like a difficult call to answer.

How do I get started?

Where should I go?
What should I do?

Do I really have a talent to offer?

Fortunately, if we need some guidance, our Church can help us find opportunities to serve.

There are many opportunities available right here in our parish.

And many more through our affiliated organizations like Catholic Charities.

We all have so much talent to share.

We might share one of our rare or exceptional talents.

We might be a master advocate who can speak for those who have no voice.

Or a highly skilled doctor who can give relief to the suffering in a free clinic.

But our sharing and our service doesn't have to involve a rare or exceptional skill.

We can share our talent for speaking English.

We can share our skill at pushing a wheelchair.

We can share our natural talent for smiling or making small talk.

Or making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

We all have different numbers and different levels of talents.

We may have five times more than someone else.

And some other person may have twice as many as us.

But we all have many.

And we're all called to share them.

Of course, we do all share them; at least with those in our inner circle.

But there's even more to gain by expanding that circle.

By including those beyond our usual range.

Reaching out as Jesus once told us, 
To serve those who can never possibly pay us back.

And when we expand out, we're not only kings and queens attending to our people.
We're also prophets, evangelizing  through our actions.

As we see from our own experience.

And as hear from others who offer their talents in service.

The old clichés are really true.
That's why they've been repeated so often that they've become clichés.

You really do get a lot more out of it than you put in.

It really is better to give than to receive.

33rd Sunday of  Ordinary Time

Mt 25:14-40      Read this Scripture @usccb.org

Timeless, Universal Soldier

He was a soldier.

Not a great general.

Not a famous war hero.

Just a soldier.

Called to service in the military.

But a hero in the sense that he performed his dangerous duty.

Bore the burden of his obligations.

Faithfully did what he was required to do.

Put his life at risk for his fellow man.

That describes most all of the men and women who we honor today.

Veterans Day 2014.

In a world that's still tortured by war.

A world that still needs military forces.

That soldier description also applies to the saint we honor today.

St Martin of Tours, one of the greatest saints of France.

Born in present-day Hungary in 316 AD.

A soldier of the Roman Empire, during the reign of Constantine.

Constantine had brought an end to the persecution of Christians.

And Martin converted from paganism to Christianity.

The most famous story about Martin is one of charity.

Riding along in his magnificent military cloak when he encountered a nearly-naked beggar.

In the bitter cold weather, Martin was touched with pity.

He stopped, dismounted, cut his cloak in half, and shared it with the beggar.

Later, in a dream, Martin saw that beggar as Jesus himself.

Calling him to greater service.

Another story says that Martin felt that, as a Christian, he could no longer fight in battle.

Accused of cowardice, he offered to go to the front lines unarmed.

His commander would have sent him to that certain death.

But the enemy called for a peace settlement before the battle.

Martin was dismissed from the army.

And like today's veterans, he quietly returned to civilian life.

He settled in what is now central Europe where he became a hermit and a monk.

He founded monasteries and was widely recognized for his preaching.

And his great simplicity and humility.

He continued to do more and more as he felt God's call.

He was elected bishop of Tours against his will, but reluctantly assumed the office.

He traveled widely throughout the Empire.

Trying to help wherever he was needed.

All of us, like Martin, veteran or not, are called to ever increasing service.

Called to do at least the bare minimum of what is required to be a true Christian.

And further called to do enough to perhaps even be deemed a profitable servant.

Today's saint and holiday and Gospel all combine to remind me of an old song.
One we learned in elementary school:

I'm a soldier in Christ's army.

Confirmation made it so.

I'm a soldier in Christ's army.

I profess my faith wherever I go.

Oh the Devil shall not harm me.

I'm the Captain of my soul.

I'm a soldier in Christ's army.

Marching to my Heavenly goal.

Tuesday, 32nd Week of  Ordinary Time

Lk 17:7-10      Read this Scripture @usccb.org

RSVP

After finishing law school in Boston, I took a job with the Federal Courts.

So my wife and kids and I moved here to DC.

Away from the rest of our families.

A couple years later we got a wedding invitation.

My brother and his girlfriend had set the date for their wedding in Connecticut.

Just a few days after that we got another wedding invitation.

My wife's brother and his girlfriend had set the date for their wedding in New York.

Two joyful wedding feasts, but a bit of a problem for us.

We had a schedule conflict.

Both weddings were on the same morning.

Two hundred miles apart.

There was no way we could make it to both of them.

There was no clear prioritization rule to guide us.

We had to choose one and excuse ourselves from the other.

We decided to fall back on a simple rule of first in time.

To commit to the invitation that we received earliest.

Our Gospel today speaks of more serious conflicts in scheduling and prioritization.

Those invited to the great feast start excusing themselves.

They've found other things that suddenly seem more important to them.

Jesus' story of the feast is similar to his story of the sower and the seed.

Faithfulness to this invitation is like the seed that fell among the thorns.

The word, the good, the truth, is choked off by wealth and other worldly distractions.

All of us have been invited to the great feast.

We received our invitation at that instant when God thought us into existence.

And, deep down, we know the way to the feast—we've been shown the way.

Yet, we get distracted.

It's all too easy to let our priorities get out of whack.

But there's really little excuse for that.

For letting other things get in the way of our invitation to the great feast.

We may not have clear guidance on how to choose between brothers' wedding invitations.

But Jesus himself has given us clear guidance on how to choose the top priorities of our lives.

And if, despite his guidance, we should ever become confused along the way,

A safe solution is to fall back on that simple first in time rule.

To firmly re-commit to the invitation we received earliest.

The one from that very instant of our creation.

Tuesday, 31st Week of  Ordinary Time

Lk 14:15-24      Read this Scripture @usccb.org