Sunday, July 15, 2018

Called and Chosen


The Catholic Liturgy for the 15th Sunday of Ordinary Time, July 15, 2018. Amos 7:12-15, Ephesians 1:3-14, Mark 6:7-13. Theme: Called and Chosen.

Have you ever wondered why it is that out of the billions of people who inhabit planet Earth, you and I have been gifted with the Christian Faith? How is it that we are among the 30% of the world’s population that has received the grace and faith of baptism?  This is the great mystery of being called and chosen by God, to be a people uniquely His own, and it is what today’s readings are all about.  

In the first reading we encounter Amos minding his own business as a shepherd and gardener when suddenly God calls him to become one of his chosen prophets. In the second reading, St. Paul tells us that we have been blessed by Christ and chosen in Him to become God’s holy people, destined for Heaven.  The Gospel shows us the twelve apostles who were just ordinary guys with everyday jobs mostly as fishermen, one of them a greedy tax collector. They had wives and families and were living pretty much just like us. They were no better than most other people. And yet they were called and chosen to carry on Jesus’ powerful ministry of preaching, healing the sick and expelling demons.

This mystery of God’s calling and choosing brings to mind a powerful experience from my childhood.  If you were like me then you might recall how the neighborhood kids would gather in a local field for a game of ball. The older guys, the jocks of the neighborhood, were of course always the captains. The rest of us wannabes lined up for the ritual of choosing up sides. I could hit the ball pretty well but couldn’t run to save my life. While my typical at bat could send the ball far into the outfield, I’d be lucky to pull a single out of what most guys could turn into a double or, for the fastest, maybe a triple. And so, I dreaded those line-ups before my peers.

But there was this one guy, a jock named Charles, who even at our young age stood head over shoulders above the rest of us. No one dared to question his choices or doubt his selections.  Whenever I saw Charles take up a captain’s spot I got a huge smile on my face. You see, I knew that whenever Charles was captain I was safe. No, he wouldn’t pick me in the first couple rounds (the guy was after all a jock and he wanted to win for goodness sakes!) but I knew I that wouldn’t be standing there as the last pick of the day either. Why did he do it? Why did he risk the game at least somewhat? The only answer I could come up with is that he was just that kind of guy, with a heart as big as his muscles.

As I got older I outgrew the field games, I never outgrew the memory of Charles and his kindness in calling and choosing. And I think that is probably the best we can also say about why God calls and choses us. Simply because He’s that kind of God, who has a big heart, an infinite Sacred Heart. He sees us standing there like those kids in the field, but this time in the great lineup of humanity, and He looks us over…

He sees our whole lives from beginning to end and everything in between; He sees the ups and the downs, the pluses and the minuses.  He sees the emptiness, the hole in our hearts that everyone has that can only be filled by His love, even though we all try to fill it with so many other things…And in all this I think He sees that most of all, we just need to know that we are loved so much by Him…and that each of us just needs to know that we are personally called and chosen by Him.

This calling and choosing by God transforms us spiritually, from the inside out, and by God’s free choice it makes us His very adopted sons and daughters, potential heirs to the Kingdom of Heaven, and anointed temples of the Holy Spirit - living-proof of the love of God among those with whom we live, work and socialize. 

This is what it means to be called and chosen.

This is what it means to be a Christian.

Friday, July 6, 2018

He Was One of Us


From the Catholic Liturgy for the 14th Sunday of Ordinary Time, July 8, 2018. Gospel: Mark 6:1-6. Theme: He Was One of Us

Note: No audio format this week, just written.

Today’s Gospel presents us with two different but important lessons to learn about Jesus and our faith-relationship with Him. It leads many to ask a theological question and it hopefully moves all of us to ask ourselves a very important personal question. Let’s take the theological question first.

Quite often when people begin taking the Gospels seriously and start reading them on their own, they come upon today’s reading and it stops them in their tracks. They will say to me, “I thought Mary was ever-virgin and that Jesus didn’t have any siblings. But Mark says that he has brothers and sisters…what’s up with that?”  That’s an excellent observation and the answer is actually quite simple.

You see, in both the Hebrew and Aramaic languages that Jesus and his companions spoke, there was no word for “cousin”.  Relatives were simply referred to as one’s brothers and sisters of the extended family. And this is how Christians have always understood that verse of Scripture until the after the
Protestant Reformation in the 16th century, when those who were revolting against the teachings of the Catholic Church went to great lengths to undermine our ancient beliefs about the Mother of Jesus.

So, yes, the Blessed Mother was and is ever-virgin; she was a virgin before she conceived Jesus and remained so to the end of her life. I think we can say that it is somewhat like retiring an athlete’s number when he calls it quits. We retire the number to honor the athlete and his awesome contribution to the sport.  Mary made the most awesome sacrifice and contribution to the life and mission of Jesus, God-come-in-the-flesh. She said yes to God and offered her womb as His gateway to planet Earth. She raised Him, mothered Him, followed Him and suffered with Him. She sacrificed more children in order to show the uniqueness of the One Son she bore. Her perpetual virginity was a kind of safeguard to and proclamation of the divinity of Jesus.

And now on to the practical personal question that today’s Gospel puts before us. Did you notice that St. Mark tells us that Jesus was unable to perform many mighty deeds in Nazareth? And did you catch the reason why?  Because Jesus’ relatives and villagers, his old neighbors, they people he grew up with, simply did not believe.  And St. Mark tells us…” He was amazed at their lack of faith.”

Isn’t it amazing that up to this point in Mark’s Gospel, Jesus is able to face off and conquer many mighty opponents: hostile enemies, demons, diseases and even death itself. But here we find Him blocked by what seems to be a greater obstacle than anything else: unbelief. This really shouldn’t be all that surprising to us because we know that God always respects our free will, our choices.  He never forces Himself or His works upon us because He is the God of Love, and love by its very nature demands free choice, not coercion.

The people of Nazareth had closed their hearts and minds to the possibility that this Jesus, the son of Mary, the village carpenter, the guy they grew up with, could be anything more special than they were. It’s a witness to the truth of the saying that “familiarity breeds contempt”.  And if not contempt, then I would certainly say that at least, familiarity breeds apathy. And this is where I think we arrive at a very important and personal question that today’s Gospel is asking each one of us to honestly ponder.

Have I, perhaps even unintentionally, become infected with some of that apathetic familiarity virus?  Has Jesus become like the guy-next-door for me? When I hear a Gospel story at Mass do I run ahead of it in my mind and finish the story? Am I no longer impressed by the miracle stories because I’ve heard them so many times? Does the drama and intrigue of the Passion no longer move me because I know how it all ends. Arrest. Crucifixion. Death. Resurrection.  

Those of us who come to Mass and profess our Faith week after week, perhaps even day by day, need to be sure than we don’t fall victim to this familiarity that breeds apathy. One way to make sure this doesn’t happen – or to reverse the trend if it has already taken hold of us even to a small degree, is remember the three P’s: Pause, Ponder, Pray.
·      
     We need to pause for a while in our daily lives that have become so busy, hectic and noisy. We need to make time and take time for our relationship with Jesus, like two friends who make a point of getting together regularly to keep the friendship growing.
·      
    Then we need to ponder the person and words of Jesus, either remembering some story we have heard or taking out a copy of the Gospels and reading a short passage.
·      
    Finally, we need to pray, that is, to speak to Jesus heart-to-heart in our own words, asking Him to show us things about Himself in what we have pondered, to teach us his way, to enlighten us about Hs words.


If we are faithful to look for and remember the specialness of Jesus, then perhaps He will be amazed at our faith and be able to work many mighty deeds in our lives.

Sunday, July 1, 2018

That Greater Power


From the Catholic Liturgy for the 13th Sunday of Ordinary Time, July 1, 2018. Gospel: Mark 5:21-43. Theme: That Greater Power

There’s nothing that brings us as blatantly face-to-face with the stark reality of our limited human condition, than being utterly truly powerless. To be powerless means that the relief to our suffering, the solution to our predicament, the peace we seek in our personal struggles cannot be found from within ourselves.  It means that we need to utterly and humbly depend on the help from a source greater than ourselves to lift us up, to help us deal with our condition, and even to enable us to have peace, serenity and trust in the midst of our struggle.
We Christians have a Name for this power that is greater than ourselves: Jesus of Nazareth. Today’s Gospel places before us two stories of utter powerlessness which teach us that to be powerless doesn’t mean to be hopeless or helpless. They teach us to turn to the One who is greater than sickness and mightier than death.

Jairus teaches us to humbly throw ourselves on our knees before the One who alone is truly greater than ourselves and to place before Him what’s on our mind, what’s plaguing us, whatever destructive behavior we cannot stop or situation we cannot bear.  Then, we must refuse to give in to fear and place our trust in Jesus who alone can lift us up, carry us through our particular struggle, and bring us to that place of interior peace and serenity as we await the outcome.

The woman with the hemorrhage has spent all her money on medical expenses and in her desperation, has endured much suffering seeking a cure.  She is worn out by her suffering, physically exhausted and weak from continual loss of blood, and emotionally wounded by the rejection from her peers.  Yet despite all she has been through, she remains an astounding example of trust in the midst of powerlessness.  She summons up whatever strength she can and battles through the crowd, consciously striving to simply touch that greater power called Jesus.

We can learn from her the importance of making direct intentional and personal contact with Jesus. Even when surrounded by hundreds of people, Jesus knows when an individual has touched Him with intention, with purpose, with faith. Isn’t that amazing? And Jesus blesses her faith, her confidence, her trust. He does more than grant her only a physical healing. He wants a personal encounter with the one who touched Him. He wants to look into her eyes and assure her that she is healed from the inside out, body and soul. He conveys this total healing to her, saying, "Daughter, your faith has saved you. Go in peace."
In our own struggles and powerlessness, we don’t need to feel envious of this woman and her opportunity to actually touch Jesus. We Catholics have this same opportunity every time we come to Mass.  We reach out and touch Jesus personally, intentionally, directly, in the Sacrament of Holy Communion.  In the Eucharist, we are blessed to be in the Real Presence of Jesus every bit as much as she was.  Our faith and trust in Jesus assure us that through the action of the Holy Spirit, the bread and wine consecrated by the priest are totally transformed into the Risen Lord and so the power greater than ourselves is placed into our hands or on our tongues. Imagine that!


So, as we come forward to receive the Eucharist, let’s do so with the same direct, personal and intentional faith as this woman. Today’s Gospel tells us that as she approached Jesus she said to herself, “"If I but touch his clothes, I shall be cured."  So, let’s have her same hope in our hearts as we approach Holy Communion, and let’s stretch out our hands with her same confidence towards our Eucharistic Lord, so that we can reach out to touch that greater power whom we call Jesus, who alone can heal us, transform us, cleanse us, and restore serenity to our lives.