Sunday, August 30, 2020

What's hardest for you to say no to?

 Homily

22nd Sunday in Ordinary Time A

St. Lawrence Catholic Campus Center at the University of Kansas

30 August 2020

AMDG +JMJ +m


To be a Christian is to be a loser.  It's to be wrong.  It's to be on the outside.

Jeremiah has it right - to be faithful is to let yourself be duped.

God thinks in strange ways.  Not as human beings do.  Human beings love politics.  We love winning.  Grabbing our slice of the pie.  Coming in first.  

God chooses to come in last.  His ways are strange.  His mind is different.

What's hardest for you to say no to?  It's winning for me!  I hate losing.  I'm competitive to the core.  It bothers me that Catholicism is so easily ignored on this campus.  It's no fun getting our butts kicked while on mission here.

I love politics cause I'm human.  2020 is a great year for politics.  Who's in, who's out - who's winning, who's losing - who's right, who's wrong.  The political cauldron of 2020 is full - a pandemic, racial tension and rioting, a presidential election - fueled by a never-ending cacophony of fear and hate delivered through the hell of our smart phones.  I love every bit of it.

Because I think as human beings do - not as God does.

Peter went from being the Rock last week to being Satan this week. From receiving God's revelation to denying God's mission.  That didn't take long, did it?

Because Peter is human - he wants to win.  Get his slice of the pie.  Get that throne of David back.  Kick some Roman tail.  Win, win, win no matter what.

Jesus sees Satan.  God's mind is different - we're going to win by losing, by suffering, by dying, by being on the outside.

To be Christian is to be wrong - at least for now.  Not about tradition, or theology, or morality, mind you.  But about having to win, having privilege, being on the inside.  I'm wrong about those things.  

Metanoia -thinking differently - allowing my mind to be changed - saying no the the thing hardest for me to say no to - winning. That's what most needs to change - my stubborn mind that Satan lives rent free in.

God's way is to be on the outside, to be wrong, to be a loser.

At least for now.

Sunday, August 23, 2020

Who do you trust with a key to your house?

 Homily

21st Sunday in Ordinary Time A

St. Lawrence Catholic Campus Center at the University of Kansas

23 August 2020

AMDG +JMJ +m


Who do you trust with a key to your house?

For me, that's easy.  My house isn't even mine.  It belongs to the Archbishop and the people of God.  I didn't earn it or pay for it.  So it's all yours.  Anybody can have a key.  In fact it's open right now if anyone wants to leave a gift!  Now of course I'd be upset if you took or moved my stuff, but I'd get over it pretty quick.  Mi casa es su casa.

Same with my phone.  You can have my passcode - 052904 - the day I was ordained.  There's confidential stuff in there I probably should keep private, but there's nothing I'm trying to hide.  If there is, I hope I get caught so I can correct it as soon as possible.  

So you're welcome to my house and my phone - just don't prank me please!

Anybody can have my keys or my phone.  But don't think I'm a virtuous person.  I'm a control freak to the max - as good as anyone I know.  You can't touch my schedule.  It's mine.  I like to work hard, pray hard, play hard - so nothing gets on my schedule without my controlling it.

Same with my work.  I hoard as much work as possible, and delegate only when I absolutely have to.  Cause nobody does things the way I want them done.  I'm a do-it-yourself American.  If you ever ask me how you can help - expect a stiff arm.  I got this.  I'll do it my way.

The problem is - my way is not Jesus' way.

He delights in sharing his mission.  I think it's his worst move in the Gospels - sharing the most important mission ever entrusted to man - to keep evil itself from having the last say and to defeat the gates of hell - with a sinner like Peter.  With sinners like you and me.  Really, Jesus?  Are you out of your mind?  There could not be a worse plan.  I mean Peter gets his confession right today, but we all know he's just like us - he gets more wrong than right.

I just want to scream - Jesus don't do it!  You know you can do this mission better yourself.  But there's nothing Jesus doesn't share - especially his job description!  He could do it better himself, but he delights in watching me mess it up instead.  That's humility friends.  That's Jesus way.

If I am a disciple of Jesus then, there's nothing that has been entrusted to me that is meant for me to hoard - everything I have - even my job description - has a destiny to be shared - it belongs ultimately to someone else.  The only things we lose are the things that we fail to give away.  Jesus teaches this better than anyone.

A key part of being a Christian is to share our mission to solve problems and defeat evils with each other.  To delight in watching another person learn and grow because of the space and mission I entrusted to them.

The heart of the mission of St. Lawrence is to guide KU students to learning their capacity to solve the biggest problems and defeat the greatest evils.  If you do not know what those are, please ask a friend soon!  We're here as well to delight in the stories you are writing with your lives.  It's why St. Lawrence Center exists.  It's why you're here in a Catholic Church today.  To let God and his family believe in you, and delight in seeing you come alive.

And that great mission that you will lay hold of during your time at KU, it ultimately will be shared with someone else the Lord will put in front of you.  Pray for that person now, whoever it is.

Who do you trust with the keys to your house?

Sunday, August 16, 2020

who do I need to learn from?

 Homily

20th Sunday in Ordinary Time A

St. Lawrence Catholic Campus Center at the University of Kansas

16 August 2020

AMDG +JMJ +m


Who do I need to learn from?

Surely in today's Gospel, the Canaanite woman needs to learn from Jesus.  He is the Son of God.  We presume his omniscience in every Gospel story.

Yet the scriptures challenge this oversimplification.  God's ways are so strange, so surprising, so not ours!

The scriptures say that Jesus learns.  He learns obedience from what He suffers.  He grows in understanding.  Surely Jesus can know whatever He wants whenever He wants.  Surely He doesn't need to learn from anyone.  But to be more like us, He does.  He chooses not to know some things.  He chooses to learn.  

Jesus learns from his mom at Cana. Woman, what concern is this wine problem to me?  My hour is not here.  Mary teaches her Son the opposite.  To do something about marriage is the reason I gave birth to you.  This is very much your time.  Jesus is wrong at Cana, not in a sinful way mind you, but so that He may learn.

Today Jesus learns not from the Immaculate Conception, but from a person in every way inferior to Him - a woman, and outsider, an enemy of Israel.

Jesus gets it wrong.  Hey lady - bug off.  Your daughter is not my problem.  You have no right to address me.  This is Israel's time, not yours.

Jesus gets it wrong, not in a sinful way mind you, but so that He can learn.  The woman's faith is a lesson about Jesus' mission to the Gentiles.

Now I now this interpretation is uncomfortable.  It is safe to say that Jesus always knows. That He is always right.  That He always teaches, never learns.  That He questions his mom and teases and insults the Canaanite woman to draw out their faith, not His.  As an example to us that perseverance defeats hopelessness.  Fair enough.

But I wonder if we might draw more fruit from this Gospel by considering what Jesus is learning.  His humility always wins the day.  He learns from someone smaller, more vulnerable and more desperate than Him.  In a human way, Jesus learns that faith grows when we put ourselves in Her position.

In too many of my conversations I do not think I have anything to learn.  Certainly not from people smaller, more desperate and more vulnerable than me.  I like to have right answers and to be in control.  I want to be on the winning side of the politics, polemics and pandemics of 2020.

But what if I am the person who most needs to learn from my next encounter?

Jesus' wisdom is the cross, when He chooses not to know, and asks His Father why.  The cross, when He chooses to lose, and to be counted wrong, instead of being in control.

Today He learns from His encounter with a Canaanite woman.

Who do I need to learn from?



Sunday, August 9, 2020

how's your year going?

 Homily

19th Sunday in Ordinary Time A

St. Lawrence Catholic Campus Center at the University of Kansas

9 August 2020

AMDG +JMJ +m

Today's scriptures give me whiplash.

Elijah does not encounter God in the fire, wind or earthquake, but in a whisper.

Jesus gets away from the crowd for some peace and quiet.

But he sends the disciples right into a storm.  And when he arrives, he doesn't calm the storm, but tells Peter to brave the wind and surf the waves - with his feet.

So which is it?  Is God in the calm, or in the storm?

Of course the answer is the classic both, and -not either, or.

Today let's focus on the storm.  Most everyone agrees that 2020 is choppy, if not a raging tornado.  Find me a prophet who thinks the last five months are going to be better than the first seven.  So many people are afraid and anxious.

Any student of history, however, knows that storms are the norm.  You can distance yourself from some storms - nothing wrong with being safe and careful - but you can't avoid them all. No one can.  To be human is to be vulnerable.

Jesus tells Peter to engage the storm with his faith.  God can quell any storm he wants, and he can meet us in the silence and in peace, but other times, he wants to elicit my faith in dangerous times.  He invites me not just to survive the storm, but to thrive - to unlock new potential and capacities - to write a more courageous story with him.

So why am I scared of 2020?  Why do I doubt?  Why am I using distancing as my new excuse for not risking more intimacy with God and others?  Why am I hunkered down because the waves of the culture are against me - because I don't want to be labeled as careless or privileged, or sexist or racist? Why am I hunkered down in the boat with people who are just like me?

Jesus' response to my cowardice is predictable.  C'mon Fr. Mitchel!  Don't let this little storm scare you.  I'm here.  I'll catch you if you fail.  I believe in you more than you believe in yourself.  I want to love you more than you want to be loved, right in the adversity of your life.  Come!  Come on!  Let's go!  Why do you doubt?

Today's story makes me want to engage 2020, not run away and hide!  The exciting life of a Christian is to fill doubt with faith, to transform fear with courage, illness with healing, hatred with love, distance with intimacy, discord with reconciliation.  2020 is perfect actually for doing just these things.

Today is a good day for me to lose my excuses, and engage 2020 with faith.



Sunday, August 2, 2020

do I have enough?

Homily
18th Sunday of Ordinary Time A
St. Lawrence Catholic Campus Center at the University of Kansas
2 August 2020
AMDG +JMJ +m

Do I have enough?

The Gospel today teaches that only when I think I don't,
will I discover that I actually do.

Do I have enough?
It's a question that never really goes away.
It's human and normal to ask.
Do I have enough of anything and everything?

Do I have enough looks to get noticed?
Do I have enough health to survive a pandemic?
Do I have enough money to pay the bills?
Do I have enough control not to worry?

Sit back and get comfortable - I'm just getting started with these questions!

Do I have enough faith to trust God?
Do I have enough love to give my life away?
Do I have enough hope to stay on the path?

The litany could maybe go on forever.

Do I have enough courage to face my fears?
Do I have enough strength not to give up or give in?
Do I have enough intelligence to succeed?

Your list is different I am sure, but probably just as long.
It's a question we can't get rid of.
Do I have enough?

It's a question faced by society too.

Do we have enough solidarity to see God and ourselves in each other?
Do we have enough virtue for good to prevail over evil?
Do we have enough justice for human dignity to flourish?

Ultimately, it's the question faced by Jesus today.
Do I have enough to feed these people?
It's precisely when it looks like he doesn't,
that he gets to show that he does.

What's my answer?
I usually don't think I have enough.
But why do I think this way?

The answer leaps from the scripture, at least for me.
I don't think I have enough because I am neither desperate nor receptive.

I'm a hoarder, and hoarders never think they have enough.
I play it safe.  I try to stockpile.  I try to stay in control.
Yet it's never enough.

The situation in the Gospel is desperate.
There's no hoarding.
And that's why things work out!

5000 dummies drag their families around a huge lake to a deserted place with no food - right into an impossible situation.
The scene hearkens back to the Israelites wandering in the desert, complaining to Moses that they're gonna starve.  The five loaves represent both the 5 books of the law given to Moses, and the manna.  Both seemed so little - not enough - but they saved the day.

The two fish?  That's Jesus - God and man.  The fish came to symbolize Jesus  - icthys -the five Greek letters that begin the words - Jesus Christ God Son Savior - spell fish in Greek.  Jesus is the two fish - it looks like He is not enough.  But He is.

What's the lesson here?
It's precisely when I am most empty - most desperate - most vulnerable - most in need - most certain that I don't have enough.  It's then that I discover I actually do have enough.

Yet when I am fat, happy, hoarding - when I'm trying to insure I have enough,
it's then that I find out I never will.

That law of the gift works every time.  The primacy is grace.  If everything is gift, there is always enough.  

If I show up to Mass tonight full,
I'll hedge my bets.  I'll play it safe.  I'll leave pretending I am all good.

If I come instead hungry, thirsty, open, vulnerable, receptive and in need,
only then will I know that I have enough.