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

Send Down Fire!

Do you want us to call down fire from heaven to consume them?

The response James and John recommended for the Samaritans' lack of hospitality,

What did they expect from the Samaritans?

There was a deep rift between these Israelite cousins.

The Jews and the Samaritans.

They'd been at odds with each other for hundreds of years.

And their chief disagreement was over the proper center for worship.

The Samaritans said it was Mt Gerizim.

The Jews said it was Jerusalem.

And Jesus was on his way to Jerusalem—

How could they welcome him?

The Samaritans' refusal of hospitality was indeed a slight, an act of disrespect.

And John and James felt entitled to righteous indignation.

Their pride was wounded.

They felt the sting of rejection for themselves and for Jesus.

But Jesus rebuked James and John for their suggestion of overblown retribution.

And simply passed by and moved along to another town.

Jesus didn't suffer from his disciples' sense of pride.

He had proper perspective.

He had an understanding, merciful heart.

The Samaritans' disrespect was actually fairly minor.

At least in comparison to the disrespect that awaited him in Jerusalem.

The Samaritans' action really amounted to a lost opportunity for themselves.

It had it's own built-in punishment.

They were depriving themselves of time with Jesus.

A chance to learn, a chance to grow, an opportunity for wisdom and grace.

Their action was something to be lamented rather than further punished.

Unlike those Samaritans, we have no deep rift holding us back.

Because Jesus continued on and completed his mission in Jerusalem.

He reconciled us to our understanding, merciful God.

So let's learn from the Samaritans' mistake.

Let's make time to spend with Jesus.

Let's always welcome him.

Let's invite him into our lives—into our daily actions.

And not from fear of fire from heaven.

But from fear that we might let opportunity pass us by.

John and James had the wrong idea.

But, as it turns out, they stumbled onto the right words.

God has sent down his fire from Heaven.

And it awaits us—offering to fill us with His consuming love.

Tuesday, 26th Week of  Ordinary Time

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

Family

The other day I came across an old photograph.

My distant cousin, Joe Schulte, sent it to me a few years ago.

It’s a group portrait of about 50 people gathered and posed on their lawn.

Joe said it was taken in my home town—Covington, Kentucky—in 1910.

At a gathering of the Bockweg family.

Joe’s great grandmother was a Bockweg girl, Elizabeth, who married into the Schulte family.

So Joe and I share her father, Heinrich Bockweg, as a great-great grandfather.

(I think that makes us 3^rd cousins.)

When we look at this picture, there’s Heinrich, 87 years old and seated in the center of the group.

Joe sent me the picture because he didn’t know who all the people were.

And he was looking for help in tracking down some of the names.

1910 happens to have been a census year.

So we know many of the names of the people who are probably in that picture.

We just don’t know who’s who.

My grandfather was 12 years old at the time, so he's probably one of the young boys.

And my great grandfather is probably one of the middle-aged men.

We know from the census data that his wife isn’t in the picture—she died before 1910.

Most families have old pictures like this, or old documents, or an old Bible with names.

Why do we even care about our families from over100 years ago?

These people we can’t even identify.

Well, looking back at our ancestors brings a sense of belonging.

A sense of our place in a continuing history.

It also helps to ground us in our true roots.

It brings us closer to those to whom we owe our very existence.

I knew my grandparents, but I know only a little about those who came before them.

It seems that none were especially rich or famous.

But they seem to have been mostly bright, hard-working, good people.

I’m happy with that family.

And it’s a good thing that I am.

Because there’s an old saying,

You can choose your friends, but you can’t choose your family.

But really, that’s only partly true.

As Jesus tells us today, we can choose to be recognized members of his family.

True family—like his mother and those he grew up calling his brothers and sisters.

We can return to our most true roots.

We can draw closer to the one who really gave us our very existence.

If we can just try to hear his word—and act on it.

Tuesday, 25th Week of  Ordinary Time

Lk 8:19-21         Read this Scripture @usccb.org

Extravagance

A friend of mine once mentioned that we should aim for a higher place in Heaven.

That surprised me.

I always envisioned everyone as being equal in Heaven.

The worldly ranks and honors and statuses left behind.

We'll all have the beatific vision.

We'll all see God.

We'll all know everything that can be known.

Eventually we'll all have perfect, gloriously resurrected bodies.

We'll all be ecstatically happy in Heaven.

If you're blissed out, you're blissed out.

How could it get any better?

My friend's a very thoughtful, wise and holy man.

So I had to consider that he might be right.

Maybe there are different levels of Heaven.

Maybe there isn't full equality among all the triumphant.

Jesus's parable in today's Gospel deals with equality of effort and reward.

All the laborers received the same reward.

Whether they'd worked twelve hours, through the heat of the day.

Or just the one final hour of the workday.

Those who worked the full 12-hour day were content with their promised full-day pay.

Until they saw that those who worked only one hour were getting a full-day's wage.

When they saw that, they assumed they'd get something extra too.

So when the master didn't give them a bonus, they grumbled.

They felt somehow cheated.

They were envious of those who got so much pay for so little work.

We can all relate to that.

Do football commissioners, CEOs, movie stars or the Wall Street wizards

Really deserve to make hundreds of times what we make?

But, on the other hand,

Do we really deserve so much more than the hard-working struggling poor of the world?

At the surface level, Jesus's parable aptly applies to material rewards in our daily lives.

At the deeper level, it deals with our spiritual efforts and the reward of Heaven.

Jesus makes it clear that the reward is not directly proportionate to our effort.

Some may be called to service early in life.

Some may not hear the call until later.

The important thing is that when we do hear the call, we answer.

But the reward of Heaven isn't really something we can deserve or earn.

What could we ever do to earn it?

It's a gift—totally a gift.

A gift that God wants to give each one of us.

He wants so much to give it to us, that he keeps calling us—repeatedly.

He pursues us throughout our lives.

Perhaps even meeting us with a final offer at the instant of our death.

Today's parable is a story about the Good News.

The Good News that Jesus asks us to spread throughout the world.

So we need to know what the Good News is.

It's the revelation and assurance from Jesus—from God Himself—that:

There's more to life than this worldly existence.

There is a God.

A God who loves each one of us—as we are.

A God who wants us to be happy with him in Heaven for eternity

A God who is extravagantly generous and merciful and forgiving and patient.

When we're slow to hear Him, He's patient

When we slip up, He's forgiving

When He judges us, He does it with abundant mercy.

All he asks in return is that we acknowledge Him.

That we love Him.

That we show that love by loving ourselves and others.

That we believe this Good News and share this Good News.

That we claim the place that He has already prepared for us in Heaven.

It's good to contemplate on Heaven; to build an expectation of what it might be like.

That helps us keep our goal in mind.

And we don't have to worry about building our expectations too high.

Jesus has told us that Heaven is greater than we could ever imagine.

When my friend spoke of a higher level of Heaven, I asked him what that might be.

He agreed that we'd all be completely happy in Heaven.

But he believed that, in this life,

We can expand our capacity for happiness in the next.

So that in Heaven each of us is indeed existing in total joyful bliss.

All filled to the max and overflowing.

But some of us will have developed a greater capacity than others.

And those will be able to reach a higher level of joy in Heaven.

If that's the case, then there is a bonus for the long-laboring after all.

Not only do they have a longer time in this life to enjoy the satisfaction of their labor.

They also build a greater capacity for joy in Heaven.

But neither those of us who labor long nor those of us who labor only briefly

Have any cause to envy God's generosity to the other.

None of us would even exist, let alone be going to Heaven,

Without that extravagant generosity.

25th Sunday of  Ordinary Time

Mt 20:1-16          Read this Scripture @usccb.org

Daddy Told Me

Sometimes there’s deeper truth in our words than we realize.

The people of Nain in today’s Gospel knew the young man who had died.

They were his family, his friends and his neighbors.

They knew, beyond any doubt, that he was truly dead.

And there was nothing anyone could do to bring him back.

But then they met Jesus.

And, out of compassion for the widow who had lost her son,

He told the young man to arise.

They all stood there and witnessed the impossible happening before their eyes.

They knew that this was clearly the work of God.

And so they exclaimed, “God has visited his people.”

But they didn’t mean that literally.

They weren’t ready to proclaim that Jesus was God.

They meant it in a figurative sense.

God had shown his existence.

He had reached down and intervened in their lives.

He had worked a miracle for them—through a great prophet.

He “visited” them through his action.

It would still be quite some time before anyone would recognize that

Their statement was literally true.

God was visiting his people, and walking among them in person.

Peter may have been the first to grasp the deeper truth.

The day later came when Jesus asked his disciples “Who do you say that I am?”

And Peter said, “You are the son of God.”

And Jesus blessed him for knowing that –

He said Peter could know that only through personal revelation from the Father.

Today, how do we know this deeper truth?

How do we know that Jesus is truly God.

We know it the same way Peter knew it.

Tuesday, 24th Week of  Ordinary Time

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

Invisible

The other day I read a children's book with my 6-year-old grandson.

It was called The Invisible Boy.

The main character was a boy about his age.

It turns out, the boy wasn't really invisible.

People just treated him like he was.

Treated him like he wasn't there.

His teacher was too busy with “problem kids” to pay much attention to him.

He was quiet.

His classmates didn't bother to get to know him.

He ate lunch alone, didn't get invited to the birthday parties.

Classmates never chose him to be on their teams.

But he didn't complain, he just quietly bore the neglect.

A pretty sad story.

But it had a happy ending.

A new boy moved to the school and the two boys struck up a friendship.

It was actually the invisible boy who made the first move in that friendship.

The new boy's novelty made him popular with the classmates.

And he used that popularity to lead the whole class

To finally see and accept and appreciate the invisible boy.

To choose him as a welcome addition to their group.

The book showed that this was good for the invisible boy.

It was good to be accepted, recognized, appreciated.

It was good to finally be chosen.

But it was also good for all the class.

They found a hidden treasure they had overlooked for so along.

In today's Gospel, Jesus chooses twelve Apostles from among his disciples.

Surely they were all happy to be chosen for their special positions.

Even later, when they realized that being chosen brought new responsibilities.

Even burdens.

We should be happy too.

Because we too have been chosen.

Just like those Apostles.

We were chosen and given the gift of faith.

And also chosen to meet the responsibility of sharing that faith.

Much like the new boy at school.

We come with something new, something fresh.

A New Evangelization.

Good News made relevant to modern times by our own modern lives.

We can help others to finally see the invisible friend that dwells among them.

See and accept and appreciate the invisible treasure they've ignored for so long.

Tuesday, 23rd Week of  Ordinary Time

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