Homily
6th Sunday in Ordinary Time C
St. Lawrence Catholic Center at the University of Kansas
17 February 2019
You were not made for comfort. You were made for greatness. This quote from Pope Benedict XVI can't be repeated enough. At least not for me. I get so easily seduced by what the world tells me to want. By the instant gratification that is always at my fingertips. I get duped by my ability to purchase and be entertained. I lose my soul in the endless ways that I can make my life easier by getting what I want when I want it. Yet it's not what I was made for. I am not made for comfort, but for greatness.
Is your Christian faith exciting? Has it in any way lost its zip? It's scary how easily our religion can become dull or dead, simply a checkbox or an insurance plan. Yet that's not what faith is for. Faith if it is worth anything is about daring greatness. It is about taking risks. It is about going for more. If being a Christian is anything less than a call to the most compelling kind of life, then the religion is worthless. Christianity can never be an escape for naive cowards. If it's not the religion that writes the greatest human stories of all time, then to hell with it.
St. Paul reminds us as much, alongside Pope Benedict, in today's second reading. To be a Christian can never been anything less than a call to a supernatural greatness not confined to the limits of time and space and matter. If for this world only we have hoped in Christ, he says, then we are the most pitiable people of all. I don't want to be pitiable. I want to be great. Don't you?
Fear and doubt are always creeping in though, trying to turn our religion into something tame and predictable. Against these, we must dare always two things if we dare to call ourselves Christian. First, we must dare to love in a way that conquers all things, even death itself - a love that shows its power in the Resurrection of Jesus from the dead. Second, we must stir up that desire to see God face to face in heaven.
Unless we dare these two things, which are uniquely Christian, and unless we dare them greatly, our story is not a Christian story. Here at St. Lawrence we are passionate about guiding great stories - your story if you will let us. Yet it's our equal conviction that our stories can take on a fuller and more dynamic dimension when they are written in conversation with the Gospel of Jesus Christ.
What are the marks of a great Christian story? Of course there has to be a hero who dares greatly. Nobody should or would watch our story if the goal is to get comfortable. The beatitudes from the Gospel of St. Luke today add another critical dimension to story. The beatitudes say there is no great story unless the hero overcomes great conflict. Happy is the one, says the Lord, who is poor or hungry or crying or discouraged. Blessed are they, because only such people are moving in their story from comfort to greatness.
In Christian speak this great pattern of every story is also known as the universal call to holiness. It's easy to forget this call - we have to be reminded over and over and over. How easily we forget that our faith only comes alive, and we are only Christians, when each of us and all of us as Catholics together, receive this invitation to become the saints of this generation as only we can. A hero that dares greatness and dares Christian things is a saint. It is a call inherent in our baptism. It is a call that always needs to be stirred up. Our faith is only compelling insofar as we pursue with great risk and self-abandonment the call to love exactly like Jesus and to become fully alive in God. Our faith is worthless unless it also honestly embraces the great tragedy our life is if we fail to become a saint.
So again, we are to dare two things. First, to conquer death through love, and second, to never stop striving to become more like God. These two supernatural goals do not detract from the hopes and dreams that find their fulfillment in this world. Yet they ensure that our lives never end in comfort, but in greatness. The beauty of being a Christian is that there is always something more. We are made in the image and likeness of God, so our capacity to become like Him admits of no final resting place unless and until we arrive where He has finally invited us - to see Him face to face.
This is why the beatitudes are the commandments for saints. For as the Lord tells us, if we are full already, we have failed to set our hearts on the greater things that last forever. If we are comfortable now, we have settled or quit in some way that is deeply disappointing for a Christian.
God loves me and believe in me too much to let me settle or quit when I am made for more. Yet it takes hope to set our hearts on the two things a Christian must dare. Hope is that supernatural virtue that corresponds to our supernatural end. Hope confirms that we will persevere in a love that is stronger than death, and we will see God face to face, when we are tempted to settle or quit.
Our pivotal question is this . . where do you find hope? We all need it. I can feel when life is inviting me to the couch instead of to the battlefield. I bet you can too. So where do we find hope to overcome this pull toward comfort and away from greatness? Where do you find it?
Thankfully, this question is easy for me to answer again this week. Last week, I told you I find strength in those who believe in me, pray for me and sacrifice for me. This week God fills me with supernatural hope again through the people around me. I can think of so many people who fit the beatitudes- who are poor, hungry, crying and discouraged at this time, but who refuse to settle or quit. Shame on me if I quit when those who have it harder than me are striving toward the greatness for which they are made.
I hope your friends give you as much hope as my friends give me. If not, get some better friends.
Where do you find hope?
6th Sunday in Ordinary Time C
St. Lawrence Catholic Center at the University of Kansas
17 February 2019
You were not made for comfort. You were made for greatness. This quote from Pope Benedict XVI can't be repeated enough. At least not for me. I get so easily seduced by what the world tells me to want. By the instant gratification that is always at my fingertips. I get duped by my ability to purchase and be entertained. I lose my soul in the endless ways that I can make my life easier by getting what I want when I want it. Yet it's not what I was made for. I am not made for comfort, but for greatness.
Is your Christian faith exciting? Has it in any way lost its zip? It's scary how easily our religion can become dull or dead, simply a checkbox or an insurance plan. Yet that's not what faith is for. Faith if it is worth anything is about daring greatness. It is about taking risks. It is about going for more. If being a Christian is anything less than a call to the most compelling kind of life, then the religion is worthless. Christianity can never be an escape for naive cowards. If it's not the religion that writes the greatest human stories of all time, then to hell with it.
St. Paul reminds us as much, alongside Pope Benedict, in today's second reading. To be a Christian can never been anything less than a call to a supernatural greatness not confined to the limits of time and space and matter. If for this world only we have hoped in Christ, he says, then we are the most pitiable people of all. I don't want to be pitiable. I want to be great. Don't you?
Fear and doubt are always creeping in though, trying to turn our religion into something tame and predictable. Against these, we must dare always two things if we dare to call ourselves Christian. First, we must dare to love in a way that conquers all things, even death itself - a love that shows its power in the Resurrection of Jesus from the dead. Second, we must stir up that desire to see God face to face in heaven.
Unless we dare these two things, which are uniquely Christian, and unless we dare them greatly, our story is not a Christian story. Here at St. Lawrence we are passionate about guiding great stories - your story if you will let us. Yet it's our equal conviction that our stories can take on a fuller and more dynamic dimension when they are written in conversation with the Gospel of Jesus Christ.
What are the marks of a great Christian story? Of course there has to be a hero who dares greatly. Nobody should or would watch our story if the goal is to get comfortable. The beatitudes from the Gospel of St. Luke today add another critical dimension to story. The beatitudes say there is no great story unless the hero overcomes great conflict. Happy is the one, says the Lord, who is poor or hungry or crying or discouraged. Blessed are they, because only such people are moving in their story from comfort to greatness.
In Christian speak this great pattern of every story is also known as the universal call to holiness. It's easy to forget this call - we have to be reminded over and over and over. How easily we forget that our faith only comes alive, and we are only Christians, when each of us and all of us as Catholics together, receive this invitation to become the saints of this generation as only we can. A hero that dares greatness and dares Christian things is a saint. It is a call inherent in our baptism. It is a call that always needs to be stirred up. Our faith is only compelling insofar as we pursue with great risk and self-abandonment the call to love exactly like Jesus and to become fully alive in God. Our faith is worthless unless it also honestly embraces the great tragedy our life is if we fail to become a saint.
So again, we are to dare two things. First, to conquer death through love, and second, to never stop striving to become more like God. These two supernatural goals do not detract from the hopes and dreams that find their fulfillment in this world. Yet they ensure that our lives never end in comfort, but in greatness. The beauty of being a Christian is that there is always something more. We are made in the image and likeness of God, so our capacity to become like Him admits of no final resting place unless and until we arrive where He has finally invited us - to see Him face to face.
This is why the beatitudes are the commandments for saints. For as the Lord tells us, if we are full already, we have failed to set our hearts on the greater things that last forever. If we are comfortable now, we have settled or quit in some way that is deeply disappointing for a Christian.
God loves me and believe in me too much to let me settle or quit when I am made for more. Yet it takes hope to set our hearts on the two things a Christian must dare. Hope is that supernatural virtue that corresponds to our supernatural end. Hope confirms that we will persevere in a love that is stronger than death, and we will see God face to face, when we are tempted to settle or quit.
Our pivotal question is this . . where do you find hope? We all need it. I can feel when life is inviting me to the couch instead of to the battlefield. I bet you can too. So where do we find hope to overcome this pull toward comfort and away from greatness? Where do you find it?
Thankfully, this question is easy for me to answer again this week. Last week, I told you I find strength in those who believe in me, pray for me and sacrifice for me. This week God fills me with supernatural hope again through the people around me. I can think of so many people who fit the beatitudes- who are poor, hungry, crying and discouraged at this time, but who refuse to settle or quit. Shame on me if I quit when those who have it harder than me are striving toward the greatness for which they are made.
I hope your friends give you as much hope as my friends give me. If not, get some better friends.
Where do you find hope?
No comments:
Post a Comment