Six Degrees of Separation

There’s a theory called Six Degrees of Separation.

It says that we are separated from any other person on earth by no more than six degrees.

For example, you could pick a random name from a random foreign country phonebook.

And you would have a friend (1), who has a friend (2), who has a friend (3), who has a

friend (4), who has a friend (5) who is also a friend of that randomly chosen foreigner (6).

The theory has never been fully proven.

But there have been a number of interesting experiments that support it.

One counted the links needed to get an email forwarded from the first person,  

Through a series of mutual friends, to the ultimate random target person.

The experiment used 25,000 pairs of people.

And found that the average number of links needed was—6.

Thinking about today’s saint—Pope Pius X,

I wondered what linkage he and I might have through time.

I was ordained by Cardinal McCarrick.

He was consecrated a bishop by Cardinal Cooke.

Cardinal Cooke was consecrated by Cardinal Spellman.

Cardinal Spellman was consecrated by Cardinal Pacelli

(who later became Pope Pius XII).

Cardinal Pacelli was consecrated by Pope Pius XI.

And Pope Pius XI was consecrated by today’s saint, Pope Pius X.

So, that was just six links.

Not exactly the same concept as the links between living people; but still interesting.

You might be surprised at how few degrees separate you from a canonized saint.

I know a few people who knew Mother Theresa, so for me, she’s just two degrees away.

The further back you try to go, the more links you’d need.

Pius the X was our 258^th pope; St Peter was our 1^st.

So it’d take me a lot more than six links to get back to St Peter.

But in today’s Gospel, St Peter asks Jesus:

What’s in it for those of us who follow you?

The simple answer from Jesus was, eternal life.

So, if St Peter has eternal life, he’s actually alive now.

And through the Communion of Saints, we can still talk to him directly.

We don’t need intermediaries; we can consider him our own first-degree friend.

And trust that—saintly guy that he is—he’ll be kind enough to return that friendship.

Our first-degree communion with saints isn’t limited to formally canonized saints.

We all directly knew people who have now gone on to eternal life in sainthood.

And, as when they were on earth, they’re still our first-degree friends.

And all the other saints are potential first-degree friends.

Maybe that will be one of the great joys of eternal life—

Renewing and establishing billions of first-degree relationships.

That and fully realizing our zero-degree separation from the mystical body.

Tuesday of the 20^th Week in Ordinary Time

1 Ez 28:1-10;  Mt 19:23-30

Read the Word at usccb.org

Whose Image Is This ?

Mk 12:13-17

Today’s Gospel gives us a bit of “Numismatic Theology.”

This is one of my favorite Gospel passages.

Partially because I was once a practicing numismatist myself … a coin collector.

We could tell you things like where our coins got the motto, In God We Trust.

It came from Francis Scott Key’s Star Spangled Banner.

But, an even greater attraction of this Gospel is that it shows how exquisitely clever Jesus was.

Clever in the very best sense of the word—possessing a quick and powerful intelligence.

Jesus once told us not to worry how to answer our accusers, just trust God to give us the words.

This passage gives an excellent example of just how powerful those words can be.

In this encounter, the Pharisees have devised a crafty plot.

They’ll approach Jesus in public and ask him their own clever question.

No matter how he responds—he loses.

Should we pay the tax or not pay?

If he says don’t pay, he’s publicly promoting rebellion.

And they could have the Romans put him to death.

If he says pay he’ll lose many of his followers; they’d see him as bowing to Rome.

But the infinitely more clever Jesus effortlessly sidesteps their plot.

He doesn’t give the direct pay or don’t pay response the Pharisees asked for.

He draws them into a demonstration—the examination of the coin.

A little scene that the crowd can enjoy and remember.

Then, he gives a response that actually does answer his attackers’ question.

And in a way that not only avoids their trap but also discredits them.

And, with supreme cleverness, he ties in an even deeper more powerful, positive lesson. 

His answer builds-in multiple layers of truth.

He says, Repay to Caesar what belongs to Caesar.

What does belong to Caesar?

Well, obviously, the coin.

It has his image stamped right on it.

So, give it back to Caesar.

With a well-demonstrated rationale and without directly saying those words,

His answer is, pay the tax.

But Jesus also incorporates more into his response.

Repay to God what belongs to God.

At first blush that might simply emphasize the insignificance of the coin.

It’s only money, there are more important things.

But when his followers reflect on the words,

When they retell the story of the encounter,

They can’t help but see that it raises a deeper question.

What do we have that belongs to God?  Well, everything.

If we apply the test Jesus showed us, we’ll focus particularly on what is made in God’s image.

That’s what most certainly belongs to God.

And that, of course, is us—our very selves.

So, how can we give ourselves back to God?

That’s an excellent personal question for each of us to ponder and work out.

And, with Ash Wednesday tomorrow, the question comes at an opportune time.

We don’t need an immediate, clever answer.

We can contemplate that question over the next forty days.

The Chair of St Peter

The central truth is always more important than the surrounding trivia.

But trivia can be fun and interesting.

During the past week, I’ve run into a lot of chair trivia.

Last Thursday I spoke with a historian at Mt. Vernon.

She said the item that made her feel closest to Washington was the desk chair in his study.

He sat in that chair at Mt. Vernon before he was president.

He moved it to his presidential office and used it there for eight years.

And he brought it back to Mt. Vernon and used it for the rest of his life.

A few nights ago I was reading The Day Christ Died.

And that book’s account of Christ before Pontius Pilate stressed the importance of Pilate’s chair.

Pilate initially walked down the stairs and stopped at a landing.

His aides brought his official chair to the landing, and Pilate sat there.

He later descended all the way to the courtyard.

The aides brought the chair along,

Because, by custom, the Prefect rendered his official judgments from that particular chair.

Yesterday, Fr. Gene’s homily touched on the symbolism of the presider’s chair.

And now, today is the feast of the Chair of St. Peter.

The chair in the symbolic sense—as the seat of authority, the seat of wisdom and teaching.

But there actually is an old wood and ivory chair at St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome.

And tradition, and the Catholic Encyclopedia of 1917, say St. Peter probably sat in it as Pope.

Today, February 22, is not only a feast day honoring our first Pope.

It’s also the birthday of our first president.

Another interesting piece of trivial coincidence.

But the less important details of history are not always as they seem.

Dates and interpretations and available facts can change.

Technically, George Washington was not born on Feb 22, 1732—he was born on Feb 11, 1731.

But in 1752 Britain (and the Colonies) switched from the Julian calendar.

To catch up to the Gregorian calendar, they had to jump ahead 11 days.

And at the same time they changed New Years Day from March 25, to January 1.

So what had been February 11, 1731, retroactively became February 22, 1732.

Pope Paul VI had a panel of experts examine St. Peter’s Chair in 1967.

And they concluded that it most likely dated from the 8^th Century.

Many Popes did sit in it, but probably not St Peter.

It is inspiring to go to historic sites and see and maybe even touch historic artifacts.

They do give us a more intense appreciation and connection.

Added sensual perceptions of the reality of the underlying truth they represent.

But in the end, those sites and artifacts are really just trivia.

We may touch them with our eyes or hands.

But that underlying central truth is what touches us.

Today, our Church celebrates one of those underlying central truths.

The truth that Jesus formed us into his Church.

And gave Peter and his successors the earthly authority to guide that Church.

That truth stands solidly upon the word of the Gospel—it doesn’t rest upon any chair.

A Little Help from Our Friends

Lk 18:1-8

There’s no doubt that we live in a materialistic and secular society.

But even here, spiritual undertones can be heard.

Murmuring below the surface.

If we want to play a little word game,

We can often take a popular phrase or saying, or song.

And hear it in a spiritual/religious context that the author never intended.

At least never consciously intended.

And yet the words make perfect sense in the spiritual context.

One example would be the Beatles hit song,

With a Little Help from My Friends.

Surely, John Lennon and Paul McCartney didn’t have today’s scripture in mind.

But their title, and famous refrain, echo an excellent sub-theme for that scripture.

The main theme of today’s scripture is perseverance.

Maintaining a purpose, in spite of difficulties or obstacles.

Perseverance itself can be difficult.

But it can be easier to stick with it if we have someone to help us.

How does Joshua overcome the difficulties and obstacles of battle?

How does he persevere and ultimately prevail?

With a little help from his friend Moses—who holds his staff in the air.

How does Moses, with his tired old arms, manage to keep that staff held high?

With a little help from his friends Aaron and Hur.

(And who is really helping Moses help Joshua?  His friend God.)

We heard part of Paul’s Letter to Timothy.

How does Paul overcome the difficulties and obstacles of spreading the Good News?

And how does Timothy get encouragement to persevere?

Each with a little help from his friends.

In the Gospel Jesus tells of the perseverance of the widow seeking a just judgement.

And he tells us to imitate her.

And to pray always, without becoming weary.

What does he mean by “always”?

Does he mean continuously, without ceasing?

Or just frequently and repeatedly?

Praying ceaselessly could seem like an unrealistic goal.

Maybe the desert fathers could pray ceaselessly.

Maybe a modern day cloistered monk or nun can approach that.

But can we do that in today’s world?

Perhaps we can.

With a little help from our friends.

We have our friends, the priests.

They lead us in celebrating the Mass.

The Mass is perhaps our greatest prayer.

It contains prayers of thanksgiving.

Prayers of praise.

Prayers of petition.

And even the special prayer that Jesus taught us.

All wrapped together in this one celebration.

We have our friends, the parish community.

Many of them gathered here with us right now.

We have our friends the Catholic community around the world.

During the Mass, we pray specifically for them and they pray for us.

In 6^th grade, Sister Agnes Marie told us that at every moment of every day,

Somewhere in the world,

Mass is being celebrated.

I haven’t done research to verify that, but I believe it’s true.

Celebration of the Mass never ceases.

And so, as a world group of Mass goers, we do pray always without ceasing.

We also have our friends around the world who say the Liturgy of the Hours throughout the day.

And they offer that as a prayer for the whole Church.

We have those who say countless rosaries and other prayers for the whole Church.

We’ve got friends around the world.

And we’ve got friends in high places.

We can count the saints in heaven and the souls in purgatory as our friends.

They pray for us until we rise up to join them.

Yes, we can even get high with a little help from our friends.

We have all of those friends to help us.

And even more—Jesus himself has called us his friends.

Yes, together as a group, as the Church, as the mystical body of Christ,

We do pray always and unceasingly.

But we should also strive, individually, to pray always and without ceasing.

Some holy people reach a point where they are so constantly aware of God,

And so focused on love of God and neighbor.

That their every act or thought becomes a prayer.

We can hope to someday achieve that level ourselves.

But until we get there, as we persevere toward that goal,

We can, each morning, offer to God all our actions and thoughts of the coming day.

We can continue to try with a little help from our friends.

And, at least, get by, with a little help from our friends.