Unity

The other day I was surfing the web for an update on the debt limit standoff.

And I came across some results from an Internet survey.

It had been conducted by NBC and Esquire Magazine.

To determine just how divided the American people are.

It probably wasn’t the most expertly crafted or analyzed survey.

But the answers enabled them to plug each respondent into one of eight categories.

Starting from far left-wing and moving to far right-wing—

The somewhat colorfully-named categories were:

   The Bleeding Hearts

   The Gospel Left

   The Minivan Moderates

   The MBA Middle

   The Pick-up Populists

   The #WhateverMan

   The Righteous Right

   The Talk Radio Heads

They found that 51% fell into the middle four of those eight categories.

And they dubbed those groups the New American Center.

Even though they’d already done their analysis, you could still take the survey.

I did and, as expected, I fell within those center regions.

What I didn’t expect from that type of survey was so many questions about my prayer life.

How important is faith to you?

Do you pray and reflect on your faith regularly?

Did you go to church last weekend?

Do you pray often, daily, seldom or never?

In our Gospel passage today, Jesus tells us that it’s necessary to pray always.

Without becoming weary.

Elsewhere in the Gospels, he says we must pray without ceasing.

The survey folks didn’t think to provide a selection for that level of prayer.

What does it mean to pray always; to pray without ceasing?

It could be taken most literally—

At every instant have a prayer on our lips or in the front of our mind.

But that would be impossible, even for the cloistered monks and nuns.

We all have to sleep and eat and work.

And at least at some times give full attention to the world we’re in.

Praying always could mean—always have a prayer in our heart.

Cultivate a relationship so close and constant with God that we’re always conscious of Him.

That everything we do is with an attention and dedication to God.

In a sense then, our every act and every thought becomes a prayer.

A communication with God.

Some people do achieve that near perfect level of being a contemplative in action.

But that level of perfection may seem out of reach to many of us.

Still, that unity with God is a worthy goal for all of us.

The necessity of praying always and without ceasing could simply require—

Praying regularly, repeatedly and consistently.

In fact today’s parable supports that interpretation.

The widow doesn’t plead with the judge every waking moment.

But she does keep coming to him, persistently and consistently over a long period of time.

There are many types of prayer and ways of praying.

One acronym for the major categories of prayer is PACT—our PACT with God.

Prayers of: Petition, Adoration, Contrition and Thanksgiving.

All of these can be rote recitations of prayers we’ve learned over the years.

Or ad hoc conversational prayers that simply flow from within as we talk with God.

As we compose our own thoughts and words, and listen for God’s words.

They can be private or public, solo or group.

We can pray directly to Jesus, or to God, or to Father, Son, or Spirit. 

We can even petition the saints and the angels to intercede for us.

We pray all of those types of prayers often—they’re all in the Mass.

We can make analysis of our prayer life as simple or complex as we want.

It can be as structured or unstructured as we choose.

We’re all familiar with the rote prayers—and they have great value.

But the ad hoc conversational prayers are often the ones that take us deeper.

Deeper into our own very personal relationship with God.

We all make ad hoc prayers of petition when we desperately want something.

There’s nothing like a true crisis to spur us into fervent prayer.

And surely we make an ad hoc prayer of thanksgiving if we get what we asked for.

If we cultivate our relationship with God through conversation,

We may well touch on all those types of prayer in any single conversation.

One commentary I read regarding today’s Gospel passage said:

Luke sees prayer as the manifestation of our relationship with God.

Those who pray have one.

Those who don’t, don’t.

This Mission Sunday would be a good time to commit to becoming fully evangelized.

Maybe then, others might be evangelized through us.

And the best way to become fully evangelized is to 1et God Himself complete the job.

We cooperate with Him when we build-up our relationship, through prayer.

Our personal cooperation can ensure a positive answer to that question of today’s Gospel.

When the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?

That NBC-Esquire survey popped up as an unlikely reminder of the necessity of prayer.

And it did a pretty good job of phrasing the important questions.

Tweaking them just a bit, they become something we might ponder from time-to-time:

Do I pray and reflect on my faith regularly?

Do I pray enough?

How important to me is my faith?

29th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Lk 18:1-8           Read this Scripture @usccb.org

National Alms

But as to what is within, give alms, and behold, everything will be clean for you.

According to the Catholic Encyclopedia, almsgiving is:

Any material favor done to assist the needy, and prompted by charity,

According to Wikipedia, it involves giving materially to another as an act of virtue.

The key element of almsgiving is the attitude and motive of the giver.

It has to be prompted by charity, an act of virtue.

Those definitions are in keeping with what we’ve been told by Jesus.

And by the Jewish prophets before him, and the Church scholars after him.

They’ve all said that almsgiving is necessary—for the sake of the giver.

The Twelfth Century Jewish Scholar, Maimonides (my-MON-i-deez),

defined eight ascending levels of virtue in almsgiving:

  1- Giving begrudgingly

  2- Giving less than you should, but giving it cheerfully

  3- Giving after being asked

  4- Giving before being asked

  5- Giving when you don’t know the recipient’s identity, but the recipient knows yours

  6- Giving when you know the recipient’s identity, but the recipient doesn’t know yours

  7- Giving when neither party knows the other

  8- Giving so that the recipient may become self reliant

Today, we and the world watch as Congress battles over our national budget.

A battle where many of the arguments concern government programs to assist the needy.

In that role, our modern welfare state might be seen as interfering with our almsgiving.

It requires us to contribute taxes and other payments for programs that help the needy.

Depriving us of some of our opportunities for more direct, free will, acts of charity.

Depriving us of some of our resources for more direct, free will, acts of charity.

So our government does interfere with the free will aspect of those contributions.

But at the same time, it could help us move up the ascending levels of virtue.

We reach at least the level of unidentified giver and receiver.

And sometimes even that top level of enabling the recipient’s self reliance.

As imperfect as our welfare state may be.

As inefficient, poorly administered, or abused as some program might be.

All can still benefit today, while we try to improve those programs for tomorrow.

As we’re told, the key element in our almsgiving is our motive and attitude.

So, we can internally decide to treat our government payment as a cheerful free will contribution.

A contribution toward the ideal ends that the supported programs might achieve.

With that spirit, that awareness, that intent—our payments can take on a dual nature.

Even though required by law,

They can become part of our interior-cleansing, spirit-building almsgiving.

Alms to help unidentified, needy individuals become more self reliant.

Alms for the general benefit of ourselves and our society as a whole.

Tuesday, 28th Week in Ordinary Time

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

Hospitality

Tomorrow, my wife and I have a guest coming to visit.

A friend from France who we haven’t seen in a number of years.

He has only a few free hours to visit.

We could have him over to our house for dinner.

But we just got back last night from a trip ourselves.

And we’re a little behind in our work and housework and other commitments.

For the dinner, we’d need to get some grocery shopping done.

Plan a meal and prepare it.

Nothing unusual or especially difficult to accomplish.

But, as we all know, even small added tasks can add pressure on our schedules.

Fortunately, we have an easy solution.

We can just go to dinner at a restaurant.

The cooks and waiters will take care of all the planning, preparing and serving.

And we can spend all of our visit time talking with our friend.

Catching each other up on what’s happened over the past years.

Listening to each other’s plans for the future.

Good food can add to the enjoyment.

But the meal isn’t the reason we’re getting together.

We’re getting together to talk to each other.

In today’s Gospel, Martha has a friend coming to her home.

Jesus is visiting her and her sister Mary and her brother Lazarus.

Hospitality is of utmost importance in their culture.

And Martha wants everything to be perfect.

There’s a lot of preparation, a lot of serving, a lot to do and a lot to worry about.

Unfortunately for Martha, there’s no convenient restaurant in Bethany.

And she doesn’t have servants or anyone else to help her—except Mary and Lazarus.

Lazarus wouldn’t be expected to clean and cook and serve—so that leaves just Mary.

But when the time comes, Mary’s not helping.

She’s just sitting at his feet, listening to Jesus.

Poor Martha gets so frustrated she complains to Jesus, thinking he’ll scold Mary.

But instead he reminds Martha of that most crucial element of true hospitality.

And that is, attention to the guest.

Not just attention to the décor, the ambience and the guest’s food and physical comfort.

Those are indeed worthy elements of hospitality.

But even more important is direct attention to the guest.

And more still, in the case of a guest with a message to deliver, attention to that message.

Jesus, with his Spirit dwelling within us, is on-hand to visit with us anytime, 24/7/366.

As often or seldom as we like, at any instant of our choosing, 

We can show him our hospitality.

Tuesday, 27th Week in Ordinary Time

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

Happy New Year

Happy New Year!

Today we kick off Fiscal Year 2014.

Most federal employees have extra free time to celebrate.

But they aren’t in a festive mood.

None of us are.

Every week of government shutdown could cost our struggling economy $10 Billion.

That’s not good for any of us.

And it will translate into real suffering for many.

So how did this mess happen?

It’s one of the endless examples of our human brokenness.

Our stubbornness, blindness, ignorance, jealousy, greed and pride—to name a few breaks.

Our willingness to inflict harm on others, even at the cost of hurting ourselves.

A brokenness that goes all the way back to a jealous Cain killing his brother Abel.

A brokenness that we see in the brothers James and John in today’s Gospel.

They’re ready to jump straight to the nuclear option.

The Samaritans are holding to their old animosity toward the Jews.

They’re disrespectful, they’re unwelcoming.

So John and James want to call down fire from heaven to consume them!

Jesus had to rebuke them for their extremism.

In our penitential rite this morning we prayed:

You came to reconcile us to one another and to the Father. 

You heal the wounds of sin and division. 

You intercede for us with our Father. 

Jesus came not only to reconcile us to God, but also to each other.

He’s given us the commandment to love our neighbors as ourselves.

He’s given us his example of forgiveness and mercy.

And yet, we find it too difficult to cooperate, to compromise, to get along.

Our budget spats are truly damaging to our opponents and ourselves.

Coming conflicts over the debt ceiling threaten to severely damage the world economy.

The evil of political/ideological budget disputes pales in comparison to other evils today.

The hatred, violence, torture and killing in Nairobi and Syria and so many other places.

But all those evils stem from the same root—our failure to get along.

No society, no generation before us, has succeeded at following Jesus’ example.

Now it’s our turn to try.

And we need to be the ones to set the example for our wider society.

It’s a daunting task.

But we can start with small steps and hope that we’ll grow into the role.

And that others will join us.

When we’re ready to unleash a response to or about those who disagree with us,

Let’s bite our critical tongue.

Let’s join our typing, texting fingers and thumbs into folded hands.

Until we can express ourselves in a kindler, gentler manner.

One that might help our society move toward reconciliation. 

Tuesday, 26th Week in Ordinary Time

Lk 9:51-56           Read this Scripture @usccb.org

Lesson from Tanzania

This past weekend St Joseph’s hosted a priest visiting from Africa.

Fr Mansuetus Setonga, who works closely with his bishop in Same, Tanzania.

We had breakfast together and he told an interesting story.

Thirty years ago a priest, Fr Richard, wrote to the bishop of Same.

He was tired of watching his congregation dwindle in Germany.

He wanted to spend a few years doing missionary work.

He wanted to carry the Gospel to people who might be hearing it for the first time.

The Church in Tanzania was already growing rapidly, but there was much to be done.

So the bishop accepted his offer of a five-year assignment.

When Fr Richard arrived, the bishop offered him any parish he wanted.

But Fr Richard said he’d done further research, and wanted to go work with the Massai.

The  bishop said that would be a waste of time.

The Massai were committed to their own god and didn’t welcome missionaries.

They practiced some barbaric customs and they were dedicated polygamists.

But he let Fr Richard go anyway.

And they heard nothing more from Fr Richard.

Until five years later, when the agreed assignment was up.

The bishop was surprised when Fr Richard showed up and reported great progress.

He had built a church and baptized the tribe he had been living among.

In fact, they wanted the bishop to come and confirm them.

Fr Richard said he wanted to extend his assignment for another five years.

But he’d have to travel home for a few months to get permission from his German bishop. 

The surprised Tanzinian bishop said okay.

And assigned Fr Mansuetus to pastor the Massai while Fr Richard was away.

Fr Mansuetus traveled to the Massai village and returned with a report.

He told the bishop, I don’t know what Fr Richard was doing out there.

You cannot go to confirm those people.

I said Mass for them and see that they all come to Communion. 

But afterward I learned that they’ve made improper changes to the Mass.

Then I visited their homes and found that they are still practicing polygamy!

The bishop said, Let us think on this; What would Jesus do if he were here?

The next day he sent some sisters to live in the Massai village and teach catechism.

When Fr Richard returned, the bishop told him the Massai were not ready for Confirmation.

But he sent him back to their village for another five years.

During those next five years, those Massai truly converted.

They celebrated the Mass properly and changed customs that violated Christian principles.

They even found a way to give up their practice of polygamy,

Without harming the welfare of the former wives and the many children.

Today, the bishop says those Massai are the most committed, fervent Catholics in Tanzania.

And he says Fr Richard’s arrival was truly the work of the Holy Spirit.

In our Gospel today, Jesus says:

My mother and my brothers are those who hear the word of God and act on it.

Fr Mansuetus’ story gives us three examples of people who heard and acted.

Fr Richard heard the call and got up and went across the world to Tanzania.

The bishop asked what Jesus would do, heard his answer, and acted with patience.

Thanks to Fr Richard, the Massai finally heard the Word of God—the Gospel.

And then they heard their individual calls and transformed their lives.

What are we hearing?

What action are we taking?

Tuesday, 25th Week in Ordinary Time

Lk 7:11-17           Read this Scripture @usccb.org

Balance

Our neighborhood has been through a lot since our gathering last Sunday.

A traumatic experience that has become all too common around our country.

We feel deep sympathy for the victims and especially their families.

And we pray for them.

And we pray that some solution can be found to avoid future incidents like this.

We’re reminded that evil and suffering and brokenness are facts of life in this world.

We’re reminded that, ultimately, death is a fact of life in this world.

We’re forced to face the fragility of our own lives and the lives of our loved ones.

But we’re comforted by our faith and trust.

By knowing that new life awaits us.

That the joys of heaven are so great that it’s beyond our ability to even imagine.

That God sent his Son to save the world and does not will that even one of us be lost.

The greater our trust, the greater our comfort.

Every day we see death at work in the world.

With that constant reminder, why is it so hard for us to get our priorities straight?

Why do we throw ourselves so completely into the things of this world?

Why do we ignore the repeated warnings from Scripture?

Don’t store up earthly treasures, store up treasures in heaven.

You fool, this very night your life will be demanded from you. 

Render to Caesar what is Caesar’s and to God what is God’s.

Sell all your possessions and give the money to the poor.

It’s easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter heaven.

And as we heard today, You can’t serve both God and Mammon.

Yet, we devote so much of our time and attention to money, wealth and material things.

Thinking or worrying about money—planning our financial future.

How can I get more money?

How’s the market doing?

Have I stored up enough savings for emergencies or for retirement?

We all need money.

That’s another fact of life.

And we spend much of our lives working to earn it.

Providing for our own welfare and our family’s welfare is the right thing to do.

It’s responsible, it’s prudent, it’s good.

Most of us recognize that money is just a medium of exchange.

We don’t want the money for itself.

We want the money for what we can buy with it and do with it.

Food, clothing and shelter.

Health care and Transportation.

Tuition and Entertainment.

Travel and Savings.

Luxuries and Gifts, including Charitable gifts.

Long term security—we hope.

It can be difficult to plan for our needs and our reasonable, modest desires.

It’s hard to decide when enough is enough.

But we can’t let ourselves get too engrossed in those material, worldly concerns.

We run the risk of falling under the spell of Mammon, serving Mammom.

Putting our trust in material wealth rather than in God.

How much do we need to worry about our worldly wealth?

A recent study from the University of California looked at U.S. household income.

It found that the top 1% of families received 23% of the nation’s income.

And the top 10% of families received 51% of the nation’s income.

That leaves just 49% of the nation’s total income to be shared by 90% of the families.

We’ve heard a lot about the top 1% lately.

With all the controversy over Wall Street and pay for Corporate CEO’s.

There have been a lot of accusations of greed and unfair distribution of wealth.

There’s been a lot of concern that America is becoming ever more divided.

The rich get richer and the poor get poorer.

The top 100^th of 1%—just 16,000 households—takes 5% of all U.S. income.

Each of those households takes in over $10 Million per year.

That’s a pretty elite group.

But what income level do you think you need to rank in the top 1% ?

A total household income of $394,000.

We may well have a few of those 1%ers in our midst right now.

And how about that top 10% ?  —  $114,000 household income.

I won’t ask you to raise your hands, but I bet we have a number of 10%ers here.

A household income of $50,000 puts you in the top half of all U.S. households.

The top half of households in one of the wealthiest nations in the world.

Of course, things are expensive here in Washington.

We need a little more to get by than folks in lower cost of living areas.

Some of us really don’t have what we need.

Many more of us worry that we don’t have what we need.

But all-in-all, we’re a pretty wealthy bunch.

A very blessed bunch.

So, let’s heed the warning of today’s Gospel.

Let’s get our priorities straight.

Let’s learn from the tragedy at the Navy Yard.

Our lives in this world are short.

We don’t know when they’re going to end.

But we do know that there’s a gloriously joyful life after this one.

Most of us have enough material wealth to get by in this life.

We don’t need to spend so much time planning and worrying about material things.

We need to maintain the proper balance between our material and spiritual lives.

Let’s plan and worry more about entering into that next life.

Let’s make sure we’re storing up treasures in heaven.

25th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Lk 16:1-13           Read this Scripture @usccb.org

At the Gates

We’ve been focused on the violence in Syria.

The tens of thousands being killed in civil war.

What can we do about it?

Do we have the power or ability for a successful intervention?

Should we intervene at all?

Meanwhile, the chemical warfare and other atrocities mount.

Last week opposition forces, led by radical Islamists, took over the town of Maaloula.

An ancient Christian town where some still speak Aramaic, the language Jesus spoke.

Radicals reportedly threatened to behead any Christian who refused to convert to Islam.

Less than a hundred miles from Maaloula, near Nazareth, lies the ancient town of Nain.

Now a small Arab village.

Two thousand years ago Jesus stood near the gate of Nain.

And he was moved with compassion by what he saw.

A sorrow-filled crowd with a weeping widow on their way to bury her only son.

He was so moved because he cared so deeply for the widow.

And for all his people.

He was so moved that he intervened—and raised the young man back to life.

There’s a powerful, successful intervention for you!

Yesterday our attention was yanked back from Syria, thousands of miles away,

To the Navy Yard, just a few blocks down the street.

Families here are weeping now.

Feeling the same painful sorrow that wounded the widow of Nain.

They’re burdened with not only that pain of losing a loved one,

But also the added pain of anger and despair at the wanton, evil violence.

And that pain, especially that added pain, is felt by the whole community.

Just as it is in Syria.

And as it was in Newtown and Ft Hood and Aurora and Columbine.

And everywhere life-robbing evil strikes.

When we look at today’s Gospel we might say:

How blessed they were in Nain!

What comfort we could have if Jesus had been standing near the gate of the Navy Yard!

…

Well, take that comfort.

Because he was there.

And he has already intervened for us.

He’s raised us to something even greater than temporarily restored life.
He's given us eternal life.

He’s opened the gates of Heaven.

When our shock and pain and anger and despair are fresh, it’s hard for us to see.

But when we’ve had some time, when we look carefully, we see---

He’s always there for us.

Tuesday, 24th Week in Ordinary Time

Lk 7:11-17           Read this Scripture @usccb.org

Just Do It

There’s a book and movie about a local DC-area boy named Chris McCandless.

He graduated from Annandale high school.

He was friendly, bright, capable, athletic, independent and idealistic.

He went away to college in Atlanta.

And as soon as he graduated from college,

He cut off all communications with his family, without explanation.

It turns out that he was nursing a secret grudge against his father.

Because of some mistakes he learned that his father had made years earlier.

Chris went West to explore the deserts and the wilderness.

His family yearned for his return.

But he was lost to them.

Chris hiked and hitchhiked around the West working odd jobs.

He was an experienced hiker and decided to test himself.

He decided to walk alone into the Alaskan wilderness with few supplies.

He would survive by hunting game and by finding edible plants.

And he did exactly that—for months—alone.

He took some classic books with him.

He read a lot and thought a lot.

He read Thoreau, and Chesterton and Pasternak, and other philosophical authors.

They strengthened his appreciation and love of nature.

And also gave him new insights into personal relationships.

His readings perhaps led him to forgive his father and decide,

After years of separation, to return home.

Chris’ story is both very similar and very different from our Gospel stories.

They all deal with losing and finding, and mercy and forgiveness.

The father of the prodigal son was extravagant in his mercy and forgiveness.

When he saw his son returning to him he didn’t wait.

He ran to his son and embraced him.

Before his son could barely apologize,

The father was restoring him to his honored position,

and starting a great celebration.

Wouldn’t it be great to have an extravagantly merciful, forgiving father like that?

Well, we do!

That’s the main point of today’s Gospel.

That’s the good news of today’s Gospel.

God is that father, and we’re that lost son.

God is that shepherd, and we’re that lost sheep.

God is that woman, and we’re that lost coin.

And there is always great joy and celebration when we’re found again.

That’s how God will receive us when we turn to him.

These three stories in today’s Gospel may be the

Greatest good-news stories we sinners will ever hear.

But the Gospel also raises other, less direct messages.

We know that we should try to imitate God’s love and mercy.

The prodigal son’s older brother can’t seem to do that.

Can we?

Can we be that merciful father, or mother, or spouse, or sibling, or friend?

As in these three stories,

It seems that Jesus is forever trying to teach us a lesson.

Telling us and showing us how to treat one another.

“Love one another as I have loved you.”

“Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.”

Chris McCandless, in his Alaskan adventure, wasn't trying to teach us a lesson.

But he did.

Chis may have decided to forgive and to return home.

But he never made it.

He died of starvation, alone at his Alaskan campsite.

Let’s heed the unintended lesson that Chris gave us.

We don’t have forever to act.

Let’s turn to our father—now.

Let’s rejoice at his extravagant forgiveness and mercy.

And let’s give our forgiveness and mercy wherever it’s needed – now.

24th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Lk 15:1-32           Read this Scripture @usccb.org

What's Next?

Every now and then we realize that we’re at a crucial decision point in our lives.

As we look back over the Gospel readings of the past few days,

We see that Jesus was heading toward one of those decision points.

His followers were increasing in great number.

The Pharisees and Scribes and Herodians were increasingly critical and confrontational.

They were actually beginning to plot against him.

If the full details of his mission weren’t already clear to him they were becoming clear.

He could see that he wasn’t going to be able to fit into the established structures.

He had to decide where to go from there.

So Jesus withdrew to a mountain, alone, to pray.

And not just for a spiritual recharge—an hour of quiet prayer and reflection.

He had to fully assess the situation.

Make some calculations like a man building a tower or a general going into battle.

And decide how he would proceed.

He must have had a lot to consider.

A lot to discuss with the Father.

Things even more important than which twelve disciples to choose as apostles.

Perhaps he received new revelations about the Father’s plan.

Gory details about his mission and what he was being called to do.

Perhaps he had to make a new commitment to that mission.

He spent the entire night in prayer.

In conversation with the Father.

And in the morning he took clear steps to push forward with his mission.

We all have our callings.

But even after we’ve set out on our path, we still have to find our way through life.

It’s a never-ending journey, until life itself ends.

God has a plan for each of us, and if we can tune into that plan—Plan-A—life is simpler.

If we miss our true calling, life can be more of a struggle.

But God is persistent; he hangs in there with us and gives us new callings.

Some say God is the Master of Plan-B.

Life is always changing, and it’s important to step back and reassess from time-to-time.

Even if we don’t recognize that we’re at a crucial decision point.

Even if we think we’re generally on track with Plan-A.

It might be time for some fine-tuning, a little tweak.

Or it might be time for a more radical change.

We don’t often face decisions that require us to spend our entire night in prayer.

But we do need to listen always—attentively: What is the Spirit calling me to do now?

Whether we’re called to great tasks or small.

Whether we’re called to be apostles or little-known disciples.

Our ultimate response to our calling is crucial to us, and even to the world.

Tuesday, 23rd Week in Ordinary Time

Lk 6:12-19           Read this Scripture @usccb.org

Hound of Heaven

Two neighboring churches engaged in a spirited dialog on their lettered front-yard signs.

Serial pictures of the signs posted on the Internet have drawn millions of viewers seeing:

ALL DOGS GO TO HEAVEN

ONLY HUMANS GO TO HEAVEN, READ YOUR BIBLE

GOD LOVES ALL HIS CREATURES, DOGS INCLUDED

DOGS DON’T HAVE SOULS, THIS IS NOT OPEN FOR DEBATE

CATHOLIC DOGS GO TO HEAVEN,

PRESBYTERIAN DOGS CAN TALK TO THEIR PASTOR

CONVERTING TO CATHOLICISM

DOES NOT MAGICALLY GRANT YOUR DOG A SOUL

FREE DOG SOULS WITH CONVERSION

DOGS ARE ANIMALS

THERE AREN’T ANY ROCKS IN HEAVEN EITHER

ALL ROCKS GO TO HEAVEN

As it turns out, the great sign debate never actually took place in the churchyards.

Someone with an active imagination, and Photoshop, faked it all on the Internet.

But the fabricated jousting draws us to a real question.

What do we know to be absolutely true about souls and spirits?

Quite a bit; we’ve recognized ourselves as spiritual beings for thousands of years.

We know it’s the soul that animates the body.

We know that humans are both physical body and spiritual soul.

But there’s also a lot about the invisible spiritual world that we don’t know.

We have to settle for a poor partial understanding.

Much or most of our “understanding” comes to us only through faith.

And some things remain a total mystery.

We clearly recognize that the unseen spiritual world exists.

We believe in one god, the Father almighty, maker of … all things visible and invisible.

At death, observers can’t see, hear, smell, taste or feel the departing spirit.

But they know that animating spirit has left.

Today, our Gospel presents a dialog between two spirits who recognize one another.

The evil spirit in the possessed man immediately recognizes the inner spirit of Jesus.

It sees him and recognizes him as the holy one of God.

And Jesus immediately recognizes that other spirit as an evil spirit, and drives it away.

The once-possessed man still has his own soul, his own spirit.

But he had been spiritually infected with that evil spirit as well.

Today is also the feast of Gregory the Great, one of the four original Doctors of the Church.

A great thinker, scholar, and teacher.

Who in the 6^th Century pondered and wrote of the soul in his book of Dialogues.

Bad news for our puppies—he sided with the Presbyterian in our fake Internet dialog.

He reasoned that non-human animals have souls, but unlike our souls, theirs are mortal.

They die along with the body.

But good news—the Church has never declared his position to be puppy dogma.

His Dialogues also recognized the evolving human understanding of the spiritual world.

He asked, How do we know so much about the soul today—in 590—

When we knew so little in ages past?

He answered, The current world moves toward its end and the new world approaches.

And as that new world draws closer we see it more clearly.

Much as we see with increasing clarity as we move gradually from night to day.

We’re in the twilight and see images, but have no perfect knowledge of the new world.

Fifteen hundred years later, we’re still in the twilight.

We still can’t grasp or prove invisible spirits with our five senses.

And our knowledge of the soul is still imperfect.

But we now have equipment that lets us look into the human brain and “see” thoughts.

Maybe God will someday give us the science to better understand souls and spirits.
We might have specter-detector goggles.

Until then, or until we arrive at the new world, we can refine the tools and gifts we have.

We can work at listening to the Spirit within us, the voice of Jesus, the voice of God.

Work at discerning spirits, distinguishing that voice from others we might hear.

Work at connecting with the spirit within others.

We can already see them.

Not through our physical eyes.

But through our spiritual eyes.

Through the eyes of faith.

Tuesday, 22nd Week in Ordinary Time

Lk 4:31-37           Read this Scripture @usccb.org

Woe to Leaders

The first half of our Mass is devoted to the Liturgy of the Word.

We have our First Reading, usually from the Old Testament, sometimes from the New.

That’s followed by a Psalm with responses, and then a Gospel passage.

On Sundays and special feasts we also insert a Second Reading from the New Testament.

But how do we decide which Scripture passages to read?

We follow a guide called the Ordo, and a set of books called the Lectionary.

There has been some form of Lectionary since at least the 5^th Century.

The first is attributed to St Jerome.

That first Lectionary covered only Sundays.

But it has evolved over the years though many updates,

Under the guidance of Church committees.

The current Lectionary covers weekdays as well as Sundays.

It has a three-year Sunday cycle that covers all four Gospels in considerable detail.

One year each for Matthew, Mark and Luke.

And with John repeated each year during the Lenten and Easter season.

The weekday Lectionary follows a two-year cycle.

Again, allowing for a fairly comprehensive coverage of each Book of the Gospels.

But even so, it doesn’t provide a complete verse-by-verse reading through each Book.

Some verses are skipped over, especially in the Sunday sequences.

And serial weekday installments are sometimes replaced by readings for a saint’s memorial.

Today’s Gospel gives us a second day of sharp criticism and warnings to religious leaders.

Woe to you scribes and Pharisees.

You hypocrites, you blind guides.

And tomorrow, our Gospel will continue with a third day of warnings.

This three-day repetition seems like something the committees could have trimmed down.

But they didn’t.

And that’s encouraging.

It shows that those committee members, themselves all Church leaders,

See the vital importance of leaders serving well and fully meeting their responsibilities.

They see the dangers, and the need for repeating the warnings.

They’re aware of the devastating damage that blind guides and hypocrites can do.

Today’s message to leaders is—focus on the most important things.

Give appropriate attention to the smaller matters, but don’t exaggerate their importance.

Devote your efforts to judgment and mercy and fidelity.

Focus on the two great commandments—love God and neighbor.

Today’s message is not only for high-ranking Church leaders, but for all of us.

It’s direct guidance from Jesus himself to each of us as members of his Church.

Telling us how to stay on the path to the peace of his kingdom.

But it’s also guidance to each of us as leaders.

Because as members of his Church we are also leaders.

There are always others looking to our example as they search to find their own way.

Tuesday, 21st Week in Ordinary Time

Mt 23:23-26           Read this Scripture @usccb.org

Mission Accomplished

In 1862 there was a battle at Malvern Hill near Richmond.

A Union captain tells in his diary of a heart wrenching incident in that battle.

A young Confederate officer and his small patrol held a key position some distance away.

The Confederate officer was rallying his men and blocking the Union advance.

So, the Union captain called for his veteran sharpshooter, Sgt Driscoll.

He asked him to try to take out that troublesome Confederate officer.

Sgt Driscoll took careful aim and shot.

He brought down his target, and the leaderless rebel troops ran off.

As the Union troops advanced they neared the fallen Confederate, face down in the field.

The captain and Sgt Driscoll checked to see if he was still alive.

Sgt Driscoll turned the body over, and his eyes met those of the young Confederate.

As they recognized each other, the dying young man spoke his last word—Father!

That Civil War took 750,000 lives.

And led to many tragic stories of divided families.

Father against son, mother against daughter, and brother against brother.

These family divisions didn’t necessarily stem from, or even lead to, anger or hatred.

They were the inevitable result of differing beliefs and priorities and choices.

Divided families were most often found in the border states,

Where members moved in both cultures and allegiances were most easily split.

The Georgetown University student body was also deeply split.

Nearly all left to fight—some for the North, and some for the South.

After the war, the returning students helped to choose the colors for the school insignia.

In a spirit of unity and reconciliation they chose Union blue and Confederate gray.

Today, our country is again (or still) deeply divided.

So far, the anger and hatred in our country is mostly contained at verbal warfare.

But deep divisions and civil wars are taking over 100,000 lives in Syria and Libya.

And hundreds are dying in Egypt.

And here at home, as well as abroad, we still have all the age-old divisiveness.

Conflicts that have plagued families since the days of Cain and Abel.

Ranging all the way from simple tension, to domestic violence, to murder.

Amid all that, we come upon today’s Gospel passage.

And Jesus says, Do you think I have come to establish peace on earth?

Our honest answer is probably, Yes, as a matter of fact I did.

And when he goes on to say, No, I tell you—but rather division. 

We might be tempted to respond with, Well then, Mission Accomplished!

Our division is clear from a quick look at the daily news.

Or at the state of our families and our country and the world.

How can we reconcile Jesus’ words of division today

With his many other references to his mission of peace and unity.

At the Last Supper he said, My peace I give to you.

And we repeat that at every Mass.

He prayed to the Father that we might all be one, with him and with each other.

He said a house divided cannot stand.

The Gospels and the Church make many other claims that Jesus brought peace and unity.

We offer each other the sign of peace.

We pray: You came to gather the nations into the peace of God’s kingdom.

You are mighty God and Prince of Peace.

You came to reconcile us to one another and to the Father.

You heal the wounds of sin and division.

Those positive messages reflect Jesus’ ultimate mission--

Bringing reconciliation, unity and peace.
On the other hand, today’s discouraging words on division

Reflect Jesus’ realism concerning our process for claiming that peace.

They reflect his understanding of the human nature he shared with us.

He knew that he was forcing us to make another crucial life decision.

Make another choice; profess a new allegiance.

He knew that we would be like those people in the border states 
With one foot in each of two worlds.
That some would embrace his message and others would not.

There would be tension.

Strong feelings and strong disagreements about the truth of his revelations.

Divisions between those who have accepted his message and those who have not.

The Good News is that Jesus didn't bring only division.
He brought the opportunity for peace and unity.
He completed his ultimate mission.

He reached his goal of reconciling us to the Father.

And establishing the kingdom of heaven here on earth.

When he said, My peace I give to you.

He added that his peace was different from the world’s peace.

His is a deep, abiding, inner peace.

A calming peace that lets us bear the temporary divisions and sufferings of this world.

Because we know that ultimately a better world awaits us.

That better world, that kingdom of heaven on earth, is already here today.

It’s growing and it’s available to everyone who chooses to claim it.

Jesus established it, but has left it to us to continue building it up.

That’s our mission.

To enter the kingdom ourselves.

And to help others enter.

God does not will that even one of us be lost.

So we work to spread his message of true peace and unity.

And try to gently help draw in everyone who stands on the other side of the divide.

And for each new member who embraces the message and enters,

We can repeat—now with all sincerity—Mission Accomplished.

20th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Lk 12:49-53           Read this Scripture @usccb.org

Little Ones

The other day, I was in a museum gift shop.

A little girl, about five years old, was looking at a large butterfly encased in a plastic cube.

And two little boys were looking at books nearby.

She turned to them and said, I’ve seen a butterfly like that.

One of the little boys, of similar age, answered her, I’ve seen lots of them.

To which she responded, Well I’ve seen hundreds.

He said, I’ve seen thousands.

She upped the ante, I’ve probably seen a million.

At that point, the other boy, slightly older, joined in with a sarcastic, Sure you have.

Are these the humble little children Jesus was talking about in today’s Gospel?

They sound more like the disciples.

Concerned over who’s the greatest, who can outdo whom?

Kids were much the same two thousand years ago.

So, Jesus wasn’t holding that child out as the model of perfect humility.

He was using the child as a model of truly humble status.

A person fully dependent on someone else.

A person who doesn’t have all the answers.

A person unable to make it, to even survive, without help.

A person who, at least deep-down, sees and acknowledges that dependence.

Who is the greatest in the Kingdom of heaven?

What an inappropriate question!

What a lack of understanding of what heaven is about.

But maybe we have to give the disciples a break.

What’s obvious to us now, wasn’t so obvious to them.

Unlike us, they hadn’t yet heard all that Jesus would teach about heaven.

So he teaches them.

Your ambition is to be recognized as greater than the others in heaven?

You imagine you have the power and ability to earn such a position for yourself?

With that attitude, you can’t even get through the gate.

You’ve got to drop that ambition and self assurance.

And acknowledge that you’re as powerless and dependent as this little child.

Of course, that applies to us today as well.

We’ve been blessed with so many gifts.

The gift of life, the gift of faith, the gift of Jesus’ teaching, the gift of salvation.

We didn’t do anything to earn them.

They can’t be earned; they’re gifts.

We are in fact like that child Jesus called over, fully dependent upon someone else.

Fully dependent upon those gifts.

We are in fact the little ones that Jesus spoke of.

Our job is to recognize and acknowledge that.

And to appreciate and cooperate with the gifts we’ve been given.

To do all we can in our poor limited power to get ourselves through that gate.

And not to push ahead of as many as we can, but to help along as many as we can.

To not only be the little ones, but also receive the little ones.

It’s good to be counted among the little ones.

There’s Good News and great consolation for us.

Especially if we should happen to go astray.

Jesus assures us that our heavenly Father will come looking for us.

He’ll rejoice at bringing us back.

And best of all, it is not His will that even one of us be lost.

Tuesday of the 19th Week in Ordinary Time

Mt 18:1~14           Read this Scripture @usccb.org

Pep Talk

We can all use a pep talk now and then.

We might just be weary.

Or we might be suffering from uncertainty, doubt, lack of confidence, or fear.

Especially if we’re getting ready for something that’s going to push us to our limits.

We might need a little reassurance,

A little boost to our faith in ourselves and in our cause.

Words from a trusted leader or advisor.

The coach before the big match.

The general before the big battle.

The mentor before the big step.

The Transfiguration was a great reassurance to the apostles.

Assuring them they were on the right track, that Jesus truly was the Messiah.

Our passage from the Letter of Peter shows how profoundly impressed he was.

He’s assuring the new disciples that he and John and James were eyewitnesses.

They actually saw Moses and Elijah talking with Jesus!

They heard God’s voice from heaven say:

This is my Son, my beloved, in whom I am well pleased.

And that great event becomes not only their assurance.

But assurance they can pass down through generations of disciples, to us.

Another piece of evidence for any of us needing a little boost of faith.

But one line struck me as I reread Luke’s Gospel account.

[They] spoke of his exodus that he was going to accomplish in Jerusalem.

As Moses led the Israelites out of the grip of the Egyptians,

Jesus would soon lead the world out of the grip of death.

But the accomplishment would require great sacrifice and suffering from Jesus.

Maybe this event wasn’t all about us.

Executed to give the apostles and us some reassurance.

Maybe the main purpose was to reassure someone else.

What did Jesus know and when did he know it?

He knew all that he learned through his frequent listening to God in prayer.

But did he know that he was actually God himself?

More than just a vague understanding or a firm belief.

But actual, certain knowledge?

What restrictions did God the Son place on his own knowledge when he became man?

When did Jesus fully know that he was God?

In the womb?

In the manger?

In the temple?

In the Jordan with John the Baptist?

On the mountain with Moses and Elijah?

Or perhaps, outside the tomb on Easter morning.

Whether Jesus had full knowledge that he was God or not,

He knew that he was already weary from the burdens of his mission.

He saw that his time of extreme suffering in Jerusalem would soon be upon him.

It was a great blessing from the Father to send him encouragement.

And to send it with such convincing and reassuring power.

Through  a personal visit from messengers no less than Moses and Elijah.

And through His own direct, audible, fatherly voice from heaven.

It was an unmistakable sign to Jesus that he was on the right path.

And that he was in good hands.

The Transfiguration may not have been all about us.

But it was, in large part, meant for us too.

Not only to bolster our faith in Jesus.

But to show the kind of Father we have.

One who sends us encouragement and comfort and guidance.

If we’ll just look for His messengers and recognize them when they come.

And learn to recognize His voice.

The Feast of the Transfiguration
Tuesday of the 18th Week in Ordinary Time

Mt 13:24-43           Read this Scripture @usccb.org