Homily
3 March 2019
8th Sunday in Ordinary Time
St. Lawrence Catholic Center at the University of Kansas
I'm a fake. That's the most honest thing that I can tell you.
Now don't get too worried. I am a validly ordained priest. You are at a real Mass, not a fake Mass. And don't worry either that I'm about to reveal something scandalous.
But unless we go deeper in honesty, there is no reason for us to be here today. So I'm a fake, and that's the most honest thing I can tell you.
I'm a fake because I'm an extremely proud person. Proud people are experts at pretending to be better than they are. They are out of touch with reality. Humility is staying close to the earth, to what's real. Pride is fantasy.
I'm not proud of being the proudest person in the room, but it's probably the only thing I'm not proud of. Pride dominates my life. Even though on the outside I may look like a disciple of Jesus, who says those who exalt themselves will be humbled. In reality, I love exalting myself.
This weekend during our Koinonia paschal mystery retreat, I prayed to be set free from my pride. But I didn't pray hard enough. It's still intact. I can tell. I have held on tightly to my pride for as long as I can remember, certainly longer than the 12 years of suffering endured by the hemorrhaging woman in the Gospel that we read together on retreat. This woman had tried everything and spent all she had, but only grew worse. Yet she was healed by her act of faith when she touched Jesus' garment as he passed by.
During the retreat I invited the retreatants to touch the hem of my garments as I processed through the crowd with the real presence of Jesus in the Eucharist. Yet I knew that I myself didn't want to be healed of pride. I was a fake.
I've had some great spiritual guides and friends ask me what I'm afraid of. Do I think that God or others would stop loving me if they saw the real me? I don't know the answer. I'm not sure what I'm afraid of. What I know is that my pride is mine and what I can control. Like a true addict, even though I know it's destroying me, I won't stop.
The results are predictable. Firstly, I'm over-competitive. I only preach about sports, in case you haven't noticed. Sports glorify God when they foster trust, sacrifice and humility, but are idols when they enable pride. I'm obsessed with being the greatest of all time. It is part of my motivation to be a priest. Yet when you want to exalt yourself everyone who wants to be my friend is ultimately my enemy. I have to beat everyone at something, with the goal of separating myself and ending up alone. But it is not good for man to be alone.
Secondly, I remain annoyed at the very things in others that most remain unresolved in my relationship with God. Jesus nails me with the splinter and beam analogy. This describes my mind perfectly. If I'm annoyed at someone's lack of dedication, it's because I'm cutting corners with God myself. If I'm put off by someone's dishonesty, it's because I'm hiding from God. The list can and does go on and on and on.
Lastly, and most importantly, a proud person doesn't trust a guide. I might fake following Jesus or another guide, but in the end I retain control. The Gospel and all wisdom, however, teaches that only a fool is his own guide. To be wise we must trust a guide, as hard as it is to trust. Jesus confirms that if we want to bear good fruit, we must disciple ourselves in radical honesty to a master who has the virtue that we lack.
Last week's pivotal question was - what do you need to let go of? If I want to start wanting to let go of my pride, I need a guide. Not one that I can hide from, and not one who lets me stay stuck where I am. Which leads us to this week's pivotal question - who has influence in your life?
I can't think of two better questions to help us start Lent honestly this Wednesday. What do you need to let go of? Who has influence in your life?
3 March 2019
8th Sunday in Ordinary Time
St. Lawrence Catholic Center at the University of Kansas
I'm a fake. That's the most honest thing that I can tell you.
Now don't get too worried. I am a validly ordained priest. You are at a real Mass, not a fake Mass. And don't worry either that I'm about to reveal something scandalous.
But unless we go deeper in honesty, there is no reason for us to be here today. So I'm a fake, and that's the most honest thing I can tell you.
I'm a fake because I'm an extremely proud person. Proud people are experts at pretending to be better than they are. They are out of touch with reality. Humility is staying close to the earth, to what's real. Pride is fantasy.
I'm not proud of being the proudest person in the room, but it's probably the only thing I'm not proud of. Pride dominates my life. Even though on the outside I may look like a disciple of Jesus, who says those who exalt themselves will be humbled. In reality, I love exalting myself.
This weekend during our Koinonia paschal mystery retreat, I prayed to be set free from my pride. But I didn't pray hard enough. It's still intact. I can tell. I have held on tightly to my pride for as long as I can remember, certainly longer than the 12 years of suffering endured by the hemorrhaging woman in the Gospel that we read together on retreat. This woman had tried everything and spent all she had, but only grew worse. Yet she was healed by her act of faith when she touched Jesus' garment as he passed by.
During the retreat I invited the retreatants to touch the hem of my garments as I processed through the crowd with the real presence of Jesus in the Eucharist. Yet I knew that I myself didn't want to be healed of pride. I was a fake.
I've had some great spiritual guides and friends ask me what I'm afraid of. Do I think that God or others would stop loving me if they saw the real me? I don't know the answer. I'm not sure what I'm afraid of. What I know is that my pride is mine and what I can control. Like a true addict, even though I know it's destroying me, I won't stop.
The results are predictable. Firstly, I'm over-competitive. I only preach about sports, in case you haven't noticed. Sports glorify God when they foster trust, sacrifice and humility, but are idols when they enable pride. I'm obsessed with being the greatest of all time. It is part of my motivation to be a priest. Yet when you want to exalt yourself everyone who wants to be my friend is ultimately my enemy. I have to beat everyone at something, with the goal of separating myself and ending up alone. But it is not good for man to be alone.
Secondly, I remain annoyed at the very things in others that most remain unresolved in my relationship with God. Jesus nails me with the splinter and beam analogy. This describes my mind perfectly. If I'm annoyed at someone's lack of dedication, it's because I'm cutting corners with God myself. If I'm put off by someone's dishonesty, it's because I'm hiding from God. The list can and does go on and on and on.
Lastly, and most importantly, a proud person doesn't trust a guide. I might fake following Jesus or another guide, but in the end I retain control. The Gospel and all wisdom, however, teaches that only a fool is his own guide. To be wise we must trust a guide, as hard as it is to trust. Jesus confirms that if we want to bear good fruit, we must disciple ourselves in radical honesty to a master who has the virtue that we lack.
Last week's pivotal question was - what do you need to let go of? If I want to start wanting to let go of my pride, I need a guide. Not one that I can hide from, and not one who lets me stay stuck where I am. Which leads us to this week's pivotal question - who has influence in your life?
I can't think of two better questions to help us start Lent honestly this Wednesday. What do you need to let go of? Who has influence in your life?
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