Friends
Peace be with you.
Tomorrow/today is a very important day for the church in Mexico and all of Latin America really. It is the feast day of St. Juan Diego who was a simple peasant under Spanish rule and who, while walking to Mass, found himself visited by a woman dressed like an Aztec princess who identified herself as “ever-perfect holy Mary, who has the honor to be the mother of the true God." When St. Juan Diego recounted this story to his bishop, the Bishop was understandably skeptical. He told St. Juan Diego he needed to ponder over what he was telling him to decide if he thought it was legitimate or not. The next day, Mary appeared to Juan again and sent him to the Bishop with a gift that knocked the cleric to his knees: fresh roses that wouldn’t have grown this time of year in their climate and her image fixed on Juan’s cactus-based coat in such that way that does not seem to have been painted and has lasted five hundred years despite being made with materials that typically last 10-15.
Why would Mary appear to Juan Diego? Why appear in Mexico? Why not come slightly farther north to a country that would eventually be a world superpower and convert the colonies from the beginning? Imagine how much different things would be if she had just waited a little while and been Our Lady of Philadelphia or New York or even our Lady of Bellevue/Springbrook. Yet, that is often not the way things work.
It is within this context that we hear of Jesus’ cousin, St. John the Baptist. St. Luke, situates the beginning of John’s ministry both in time and in contrast. In other words, he lists the names of these leaders so that the hearer will know what year it takes place and will have a reminder of the corruption of those leaders as well. It’s sort of like the opposite of what happened at President George H.W. Bush’s funeral this week when everyone kept looking back on his years as president as though they were the best years ever. Luke is using these names to remind people of the murder and corruption these men did. He does this so he can contrast St. John the Baptist, who is speaking truth to power. Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying that St. John the Baptist was a political revolutionary or a competitor with Caesar and Pilate and all those folks. I’m saying the exact opposite of that. The truth he spoke was about the fulfillment of the Old Testament Prophecy spoken in our first reading about God leveling mountains and filling valleys to prepare for his coming. St. John the Baptist called on people to be prepared for the coming of the Lord
At the time of St. Juan Diego, Spanish Franciscan missionaries had been working to convert the people of Mexico for 20 years with very little success. Because of this one revelation, approximately 90 million Latin American people would be converted in the next 10 years, a feat only possible through the action of God. And that happened, not through the most powerful of subjects or to the most powerful country in the world but to a peasant less in dignity by most of European people in a country that has always struggled to provide adequate resources for its citizenry. Why would God do such a thing?
To remind us that human power pales in comparison to the power of God, that human wisdom seems like foolishness compared to the wisdom of God, and the good things we prize on earth seem pathetic compared to the great things God wants for us. In this world where powerful people seem to constantly want all of our attention in order to have a greater control of our lives, we remind ourselves that God’s plan is always better human plans. We just need to be humbly open to the way God appears in our lives.
Monday, December 10, 2018
Monday, October 22, 2018
29th Sunday in Ordinary Time -B
Friends
Peace be with you.
I’m going to go out on a limb and admit something that may be kind of hard to hear: I am wounded. Now, I’m not going to sit up here and admit anything untoward. This is not a Jimmy Swaggart “I have sinned” moment for me. But, I will admit to you that I have had experiences in past assignments that really made me question whether I wanted to be assigned to a parish ever again and, even, whether I could continue to be a priest. By the grace of God, that last part passed and I settled back into my plan to be an active priest for fifty years, retire for one year, and then die. But, those hard experiences are wounds that I know I bring into this assignment.
I’m not sharing this for your pity. I would guess we all have wounds from past bad experiences if we took the time to think about it. The strangest thing for me is that I can remember a time in my own life when I would have never thought I would stand in front of you and admit that weakness. When I was in seminary, I used to look at the priests knew and think that he should just make a darn decision and everyone in the parish would respect what he would say. And then, for the 10 years that I was an associate pastor, I would get very frustrated when the pastors with whom I worked would do something with which I disagreed or something that went against church teaching, especially if they were doing so because they felt like their parishioners wanted it done that way and they didn’t want to have to take the time to explain why they should do it the right way, let alone having to take a tough stance against people who simply do not understand the whole point of the gospel. I look back on that associate pastor and realize how easy leadership looks when you’re not the one who is the leader.
And I wonder if St. James and St. John ever had these same feelings. During their lives, they, along with Simon Peter, form an inner circle of Jesus’ apostles who are present for the transfiguration and other miracles when Jesus dismisses everyone but them. They are given the nickname “Sons of Thunder” in fact because they take action and, as we heard in the gospel, ask for favors before others can. They ask to be the leaders when Jesus leaves. He is, after all, starting to talk about leaving so let’s figure out the order of succession. I mean, let’s admit it. No one wants Jude bumbling around trying to find lost things all day as their leader. And I’ve got to believe everyone was at least a little ill-at-ease around Judas by this point. Why not get a little order around here?
After the death of Jesus, St. James intimately felt what it was like to drink the cup of Jesus. He would go as far as Spain in his evangelization, successfully converting many to the faith, before returning to Jerusalem, where the Son of Herod the Great, also named Herod, would personally martyr him. He truly was baptized into the same baptism of Christ’s death and rose with Christ to the glory of eternal life.
St. John is called upon by Jesus from the cross to become like a son to Mary, his own Mother. He and Mary eventually leave Jerusalem where he takes care of her until she is taken up body and soul into heaven. Then, he leaves to the town of Ephesis and eventually is exiled to the Island prison of Patmos where he writes the fourth gospel. As the only Apostle to die from “natural causes” he is like the lone survivor left to write down the story of Jesus’ from his perspective. And what is the perspective of this younger son of thunder? What is he most known for? Love. It is said that, towards the end of his life, St. John would constantly repeat the beautifully brief homily “Little children, love one another.” Love heals our wounds. Love transforms the way we view our enemies into friends. Love drives out the fear of an unplanned pregnancy. Love tells us that not every fight is worth fighting but that some are.
I think this is what Jesus is trying to get across to all the disciples at the end of this gospel passage and what I’m taking from it as well. I want to lead like Jesus lead, which wasn’t by global takeover or arrogant declaration. He led by becoming a servant of all. He led by serving the least among us. He led by dying and giving us his body and blood for our salvation. If only we can have that kind of fearless attitude of servant leadership. May it be so. Amen.
Peace be with you.
I’m going to go out on a limb and admit something that may be kind of hard to hear: I am wounded. Now, I’m not going to sit up here and admit anything untoward. This is not a Jimmy Swaggart “I have sinned” moment for me. But, I will admit to you that I have had experiences in past assignments that really made me question whether I wanted to be assigned to a parish ever again and, even, whether I could continue to be a priest. By the grace of God, that last part passed and I settled back into my plan to be an active priest for fifty years, retire for one year, and then die. But, those hard experiences are wounds that I know I bring into this assignment.
I’m not sharing this for your pity. I would guess we all have wounds from past bad experiences if we took the time to think about it. The strangest thing for me is that I can remember a time in my own life when I would have never thought I would stand in front of you and admit that weakness. When I was in seminary, I used to look at the priests knew and think that he should just make a darn decision and everyone in the parish would respect what he would say. And then, for the 10 years that I was an associate pastor, I would get very frustrated when the pastors with whom I worked would do something with which I disagreed or something that went against church teaching, especially if they were doing so because they felt like their parishioners wanted it done that way and they didn’t want to have to take the time to explain why they should do it the right way, let alone having to take a tough stance against people who simply do not understand the whole point of the gospel. I look back on that associate pastor and realize how easy leadership looks when you’re not the one who is the leader.
And I wonder if St. James and St. John ever had these same feelings. During their lives, they, along with Simon Peter, form an inner circle of Jesus’ apostles who are present for the transfiguration and other miracles when Jesus dismisses everyone but them. They are given the nickname “Sons of Thunder” in fact because they take action and, as we heard in the gospel, ask for favors before others can. They ask to be the leaders when Jesus leaves. He is, after all, starting to talk about leaving so let’s figure out the order of succession. I mean, let’s admit it. No one wants Jude bumbling around trying to find lost things all day as their leader. And I’ve got to believe everyone was at least a little ill-at-ease around Judas by this point. Why not get a little order around here?
After the death of Jesus, St. James intimately felt what it was like to drink the cup of Jesus. He would go as far as Spain in his evangelization, successfully converting many to the faith, before returning to Jerusalem, where the Son of Herod the Great, also named Herod, would personally martyr him. He truly was baptized into the same baptism of Christ’s death and rose with Christ to the glory of eternal life.
St. John is called upon by Jesus from the cross to become like a son to Mary, his own Mother. He and Mary eventually leave Jerusalem where he takes care of her until she is taken up body and soul into heaven. Then, he leaves to the town of Ephesis and eventually is exiled to the Island prison of Patmos where he writes the fourth gospel. As the only Apostle to die from “natural causes” he is like the lone survivor left to write down the story of Jesus’ from his perspective. And what is the perspective of this younger son of thunder? What is he most known for? Love. It is said that, towards the end of his life, St. John would constantly repeat the beautifully brief homily “Little children, love one another.” Love heals our wounds. Love transforms the way we view our enemies into friends. Love drives out the fear of an unplanned pregnancy. Love tells us that not every fight is worth fighting but that some are.
I think this is what Jesus is trying to get across to all the disciples at the end of this gospel passage and what I’m taking from it as well. I want to lead like Jesus lead, which wasn’t by global takeover or arrogant declaration. He led by becoming a servant of all. He led by serving the least among us. He led by dying and giving us his body and blood for our salvation. If only we can have that kind of fearless attitude of servant leadership. May it be so. Amen.
Sunday, June 17, 2018
11th Sunday in Ordinary Time Cycle B
Friends
Peace be with you. I’d like to do something a little different today. Instead of focusing on the gospel and finding a moral teaching from it, I’d like to explore that first reading from the 17th Chapter of the Old Testament Book of the Prophet Ezekial, in part because there is something beautiful that profoundly informs our understanding of God’s action in Jesus’ Christ. And, let me just admit from the get go that I am going beyond the three verses that we heard to incorporate the entire chapter because, as you’ll see, what we heard is kind of like hearing the punchline of a joke without hearing the entire thing.
But, before I get too particular, let me give a little historical context to the book. The book of Ezekiel was written during one of the most transformational experiences that the Jewish people experienced in history; the Babylonian exile. Oftentimes, we think of the Holocaust or the Jewish experience of slavery in Egypt as being central to Jewish history. And, while both of those experiences certainly are important, no less important is the time when King Jehoiakim allied with the country that formerly enslaved Israel, Egypt, instead of trusting that God would protect his people from a war mongering Babylonian leader named King Nebuchadnezzar. Because of this, the Jewish people lost the Temple, lost the Ark of the Covenant with the 10 commandments inside, and of course, lost the close relationship they had cultivated with God. Ezekiel was a priest during this time when there is no temple for the people to offer sacrifice. Instead, as he himself explained in the first few chapters of this book, God fed him a scroll and charged him to preach 25 “oracles”, one for each year he served as a priest.
This particular oracle starts with a proverb about an eagle plucking the top of a cedar tree and planting it beside the flowing waters of a river, an advantageous place for plants to survive in the desert. It should be noted that, because the palace of David in Jerusalem was built of Cedar, the people would have understood that Ezekiel is really talking about the Davidic descendant of the time, King Jehoiakim, as the top of the Cedar tree. However, another eagle comes to take the vine that resulted from the transplanted cedar tree and plant it in a fertile field. The proverb concludes by asking if it will survive as well in the field as it did located next to the sure water source of the river. The Lord explains that the second eagle represents Israel’s attempt to make the agreement with Egypt, which was unsuccessful and lead to King Jehoiakim’s death. In my opinion, we’re missing a pretty powerful explanation of the teaching of the first reading by skipping verse 20, “I will spread my net over him, and he will be caught in my snare. I will bring him to Babylon to judge him there because he broke faith with me.” In other words, it was God’s plan all along to force his people into exile but, by aligning with Egypt, they were really fighting against God. God isn’t being vengeful here. It sounds like it but, in reality, he’s explaining to them that they had wandered away from the Lord and that, like the Father of the Prodigal Son, God let his people wander away. But, he was even providing for their basic needs, by planting them next to a river, in the hopes that they would return to him. That’s why in our passage for today God says that he will take the top of the Cedar Tree and plant it on a high mountain.
Now, let’s stop here for a second and think about to whom this is referring. Remember for a second that the Cedar Tree refers to a descendant of King David. It certainly could have meant King Zedekiah, the leader who would have been in charge while Ezekiel was writing this. The problem is that everyone agrees King Zedekiah was corrupt. He was too comfortable with Babylon’s idolatry and too comfortable being away from Jerusalem. This is one of those times where we disagree with our Jewish brothers and sisters and believe this points to a God who walked with them and, by the way, continues to walk with us, into a nation of sin so that he could rescue some of us from that sin. Jesus, therefore, becomes the low tree that is brought high for the mighty and powerful to marvel at. He is the one who makes the withered tree bloom.
Haven’t we all, at one time or another, found ourselves feeling in exile? Maybe God used to feel very close to us and, now, we feel more his absence than his presence. Maybe we don’t take the time we wish we would each day to pray. Or maybe we never have had that close feeling of the God who is our shelter and our strength. Ezekiel is reminding us that it’s never too late. God is searching for you. He sent his Son, Jesus, to show us his love and feeds us each Sunday with his body and blood. All we have to do is ask and God can come to let us know how much he loves us. What makes it difficult to complete trust complete in God?
But, before I get too particular, let me give a little historical context to the book. The book of Ezekiel was written during one of the most transformational experiences that the Jewish people experienced in history; the Babylonian exile. Oftentimes, we think of the Holocaust or the Jewish experience of slavery in Egypt as being central to Jewish history. And, while both of those experiences certainly are important, no less important is the time when King Jehoiakim allied with the country that formerly enslaved Israel, Egypt, instead of trusting that God would protect his people from a war mongering Babylonian leader named King Nebuchadnezzar. Because of this, the Jewish people lost the Temple, lost the Ark of the Covenant with the 10 commandments inside, and of course, lost the close relationship they had cultivated with God. Ezekiel was a priest during this time when there is no temple for the people to offer sacrifice. Instead, as he himself explained in the first few chapters of this book, God fed him a scroll and charged him to preach 25 “oracles”, one for each year he served as a priest.
This particular oracle starts with a proverb about an eagle plucking the top of a cedar tree and planting it beside the flowing waters of a river, an advantageous place for plants to survive in the desert. It should be noted that, because the palace of David in Jerusalem was built of Cedar, the people would have understood that Ezekiel is really talking about the Davidic descendant of the time, King Jehoiakim, as the top of the Cedar tree. However, another eagle comes to take the vine that resulted from the transplanted cedar tree and plant it in a fertile field. The proverb concludes by asking if it will survive as well in the field as it did located next to the sure water source of the river. The Lord explains that the second eagle represents Israel’s attempt to make the agreement with Egypt, which was unsuccessful and lead to King Jehoiakim’s death. In my opinion, we’re missing a pretty powerful explanation of the teaching of the first reading by skipping verse 20, “I will spread my net over him, and he will be caught in my snare. I will bring him to Babylon to judge him there because he broke faith with me.” In other words, it was God’s plan all along to force his people into exile but, by aligning with Egypt, they were really fighting against God. God isn’t being vengeful here. It sounds like it but, in reality, he’s explaining to them that they had wandered away from the Lord and that, like the Father of the Prodigal Son, God let his people wander away. But, he was even providing for their basic needs, by planting them next to a river, in the hopes that they would return to him. That’s why in our passage for today God says that he will take the top of the Cedar Tree and plant it on a high mountain.
Now, let’s stop here for a second and think about to whom this is referring. Remember for a second that the Cedar Tree refers to a descendant of King David. It certainly could have meant King Zedekiah, the leader who would have been in charge while Ezekiel was writing this. The problem is that everyone agrees King Zedekiah was corrupt. He was too comfortable with Babylon’s idolatry and too comfortable being away from Jerusalem. This is one of those times where we disagree with our Jewish brothers and sisters and believe this points to a God who walked with them and, by the way, continues to walk with us, into a nation of sin so that he could rescue some of us from that sin. Jesus, therefore, becomes the low tree that is brought high for the mighty and powerful to marvel at. He is the one who makes the withered tree bloom.
Haven’t we all, at one time or another, found ourselves feeling in exile? Maybe God used to feel very close to us and, now, we feel more his absence than his presence. Maybe we don’t take the time we wish we would each day to pray. Or maybe we never have had that close feeling of the God who is our shelter and our strength. Ezekiel is reminding us that it’s never too late. God is searching for you. He sent his Son, Jesus, to show us his love and feeds us each Sunday with his body and blood. All we have to do is ask and God can come to let us know how much he loves us. What makes it difficult to complete trust complete in God?
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