Homily for Tuesday of the 30th Week in Ordinary Time
Year for Priests
for daily readings, click here
Hope for redemption is different than hoping that the Royals will win the World Series. One can imagine, approximately, what it would be like if the latter were to happen. I can imagine what it would be like if KU won the National Championship again this year (rock chalk!). It may not be exactly right, but I can at least imagine. Redemption of the world by love. I can't imagine that. I can't imagine heaven in its totality. I can imagine parts of it, but I can't get my mind around the whole thing. St. Paul says that hope that sees is not properly hope. In other words, supernatural hope is directed toward that reality that would satisfy every desire that we have, not just a few of our desires, and so supernatural hope is not a hope that pertains properly to national championships, or world series, or anything of the kind.
The futility of creation turns out to be a great gift. That sounds weird. Futility is a good thing? That's like saying it would be a good thing that the Royals would never win the World Series again. How could this be good? Well, it could be good if there was a greater evil avoided; namely, that the Royals could win the world series unethically, or without having really to strive to be excellent, or with a lack of appreciation or gratitude. If any of these were true, it would be better if the Royals would never win the world series again.
So true with the futility of the world; that the punishment for sin entering the world is death. How can death be a gift? Well, obviously, if the greater evil of people setting their hearts eternally on things that did not satisfy them - if people were able to make themselves miserable forever, with no way of getting out of their misery, then the world here would be hell, and a greater evil would exist than death. Oftentimes, death is the worst thing we can imagine, but there are much worse things, actually - including imagining living in this world forever, without being able to fulfill the deepest desires of our hearts. That is the futility that Christ has come to lead us out of, if we would first be baptized with him into His death. +m
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
KU football - must wins?
Every week is a must-win for KU now, and yet it is not. With the mess that is the Big 12 North, 4-4 can still win the North, in a tiebreaker. KSU controls their own destiny - what's up with that? I still think this KU team has it in them to win the North. They will need help from KSU and Nebraska now. Missouri actually needs to get it in gear and help KU as well. I wasn't able to go to the OU game, but I thought the defense hit harder and flew to the ball better. I'm hopeful, but too busy to get upset if things don't go our way.
Unexpected snow on retreat!
Maybe as much as 10 inches in the next two days in Crested Butte, CO. They are getting even more snow to the north around Denver and into Utah. It is gorgeous here. And cold. I guess the Lord wants me to stay in, to eat chili, and to work more diligently on the texts I have chosen for my retreat this year. I'm here unti Saturday. Hope I can get out. Please pray for me. Among other things, I'm re-reading the entire New Testament!
+m
+m
Vocation office news!
It has been quite a while since I have posted anything other than homilies on my blog. There is so much I want to get done with vocations, that blogging has gone down in priority. But just to assure everyone, good things are happening this year. Our October Project Andrews had record numbers of young men attend. I'm confident that any young man who attends a Project Andrew event with the Archbishop will remain open to the Lord's call in the future, if we can stay in touch with them.
We are excited about hosting a booth for the upcoming NCYC in Kansas City. Plans are underway for new videos promoting vocations, an updated 'Called by Name' program for parishes, opportunities for closer collaborations with priests, and the Archbishop's Quo Vadis retreat coming up in January.
Also, since I've moved into the Director of Seminarians role this year, I was able last week to visit our seminarians at Kenrick-Glennon, all 11 of them, and to collaborate in their formation with the administration of the seminary. I have a lot to learn, but this has been a welcome and exciting addition to my vocation office workload!
Please pray a Hail Mary (or more!) for our seminarians and applicants to the seminary this year!
We are excited about hosting a booth for the upcoming NCYC in Kansas City. Plans are underway for new videos promoting vocations, an updated 'Called by Name' program for parishes, opportunities for closer collaborations with priests, and the Archbishop's Quo Vadis retreat coming up in January.
Also, since I've moved into the Director of Seminarians role this year, I was able last week to visit our seminarians at Kenrick-Glennon, all 11 of them, and to collaborate in their formation with the administration of the seminary. I have a lot to learn, but this has been a welcome and exciting addition to my vocation office workload!
Please pray a Hail Mary (or more!) for our seminarians and applicants to the seminary this year!
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Bartimaus is annoying . . . and that's good!
Homily for 30th Sunday in Ordinary Time
St. Lawrence Catholic Campus Center
25 October 2009
Year for Priests
St. John Vianney, pray for us!
St. Lawrence, pray for us!
Mary, Mother of Priests, pray for us!
For daily readings, click here
Bartimaus, the hero of today's Gospel story, is something none of us want to be. He is needy. He is whiny. He is a beggar. It is not cool to be any of these things. When people ask us how we are doing, they expect us to say we're doing well. They don't generally want to hear about our problems. They don't want to hear about our needs. They want to hear that we are doing just fine on our own. That we are self-sufficient. Almost all the commercials we see on tv are geared toward helping us be less needy, teaching us how to do it ourselves, and to be more self-sufficient. Our society is geared toward helping us be less like Bartimaus. How do we fix ourselves, before having to depend on others? We place incomparable value in our society on being able to support yourself. When we ask someone what they do for a living, or what they are studying in college, we immediately want to know if their job or potential job will allow them to be successfully self-sufficient, and not dependent on others. The last thing we want to tell someone we have just met is that we are broke, or unemployed, or a dropout, or unsuccessful in any way. Most of us hate to beg, and what is more, we are scared of people who are going to ask us for things. We stay away from people who are beggars, people who are needy, people who may ask from us, emotionally or materially, more than we are ready or able to give them.
Fr. Robert Barron, in his homily for this weekend, reminds us all however, that learning how to beg, and learning how to love being a beggar, is the beginning of the spiritual life. This is what makes Bartimaus the hero of today's story. He is not afraid to beg, not embarrassed to be a beggar, even when their is social pressure around him to shut up, and quit being so whiny and needy. Bartimaus is told by his peers to disappear, that he is annoying, but because of the spiritual courage of this man, he only shouts out all the louder - Jesus, Son of David, have pity on me.
In the same way, we begin every Mass by trying to assume the position of Bartimaus. We begin every Mass by calling to mind our sins. We begin by confessing our blindness, that not only do we not understand fully who we are, we do not understand where we are going or how to get there either. We are blind, insofar as knowing our vocation and how to spend our time on this earth. We begin every Mass by saying Lord, have mercy, Christ, have mercy, Lord, have mercy, practically the identical words uttered by the hero of today's Gospel. We begin our Mass by asking Jesus to heal us, and to be with us as a sure friend and guide on our journey from Jericho to Jerusalem, from sin to grace, from darkness to light, from loneliness to communion with God and with one another.
Fr. Barron, one of the greatest evangelists of our time, reminds us in his homily for this weekend, that we do not end the Mass by asking for God's mercy, but we begin Mass there. The same must be true of our spiritual life. We do not begin the spiritual life assuming that we can see clearly, and only when our sight proves to fail do we think to bother Jesus. No, we begin the spiritual life with humility, admitting the real and almost certain possibility that we do not know exactly where we are going, nor do we know the way. We must begin the spiritual life not with trying to get as far as we can by ourselves, before realizing Jesus will have to take us the rest of the way. No, quite the opposite. Jesus does not want to pick up where we leave off, but to walk with us from the very beginning of our journey. He wishes to share His vision and His light with us, making bright the path before us, as a companion and friend. Jesus is not for us a last resort, after we have tried everything else, but a first option in helping us be who we really want to be, if only we have the courage to beg his help.
In order to begin the spiritual life, then, which is nothing more than a deep and intimate friendship with God who makes Himself available to us through His Son Jesus, we willingly assume the position of a beggar. We begin Mass by asking the Lord to heal us of our blindness. We do this not because a Catholic must always begin by beating himself up, not because that is what we have been trained to do. We don't do this simply because we hate ourselves and our weaknesses. No, we do this because we know in the depths of our being that from the beginning of our lives, we are never meant to walk alone. Life is not a hard test of who can be the most self-sufficient, the least needy and the least annoying. No, quite the opposite, life is a journey that is meant to be shared with friends, most of all with Jesus, who comes to make life easier by his unique friendship which always puts us in touch with our deepest vocation to love one another as He has first loved us.
It is not an unfortunate thing to be a beggar. This is really hard to get through our thick skulls. Unless Bartimaus is a true hero and model for us, we are doomed to live our lives within the dark circle of our own self-sufficiency, a very small and lonely circle of blindness and loneliness. Bartimaus is the hero of today's story, because he has the gift that no one else around him in today's story seems to have. He has the gift of humbly knowing that he is blind, whereas everyone around him falsely thinks that they can see. When we assume the position of beggar before God, the fruit is that we are able to move from isolation to communion, both with God and with one another. If we are seeking to become more dependent upon God, not less, like Bartimaus who would not let anyone tell him to leave God alone, the result will be that others will be less annoying to us. If we are not afraid to beg, those who beg of our time or our energy or our love will not scare us or annoy us. Like Jesus, who did simply what Bartimaus asked of him, when others ask us for something, we will see them not as annoying, but as a gift, and will be able to always give them at least something of what we have first received from Christ - his mercy, his friendship, and his love.
The next time we are attempted to no-show at some event, to screen a call we know we should answer, to tell a lie in order to preserve our independence, or to shy away from relationships that have the potential to be annoying, let us remember the response of Jesus to the blind man Bartimaus. If we first have the courage to beg Christ to be with us on our journey, we will receive from Him the grace to be His light to others in the same way! +m
St. Lawrence Catholic Campus Center
25 October 2009
Year for Priests
St. John Vianney, pray for us!
St. Lawrence, pray for us!
Mary, Mother of Priests, pray for us!
For daily readings, click here
Bartimaus, the hero of today's Gospel story, is something none of us want to be. He is needy. He is whiny. He is a beggar. It is not cool to be any of these things. When people ask us how we are doing, they expect us to say we're doing well. They don't generally want to hear about our problems. They don't want to hear about our needs. They want to hear that we are doing just fine on our own. That we are self-sufficient. Almost all the commercials we see on tv are geared toward helping us be less needy, teaching us how to do it ourselves, and to be more self-sufficient. Our society is geared toward helping us be less like Bartimaus. How do we fix ourselves, before having to depend on others? We place incomparable value in our society on being able to support yourself. When we ask someone what they do for a living, or what they are studying in college, we immediately want to know if their job or potential job will allow them to be successfully self-sufficient, and not dependent on others. The last thing we want to tell someone we have just met is that we are broke, or unemployed, or a dropout, or unsuccessful in any way. Most of us hate to beg, and what is more, we are scared of people who are going to ask us for things. We stay away from people who are beggars, people who are needy, people who may ask from us, emotionally or materially, more than we are ready or able to give them.
Fr. Robert Barron, in his homily for this weekend, reminds us all however, that learning how to beg, and learning how to love being a beggar, is the beginning of the spiritual life. This is what makes Bartimaus the hero of today's story. He is not afraid to beg, not embarrassed to be a beggar, even when their is social pressure around him to shut up, and quit being so whiny and needy. Bartimaus is told by his peers to disappear, that he is annoying, but because of the spiritual courage of this man, he only shouts out all the louder - Jesus, Son of David, have pity on me.
In the same way, we begin every Mass by trying to assume the position of Bartimaus. We begin every Mass by calling to mind our sins. We begin by confessing our blindness, that not only do we not understand fully who we are, we do not understand where we are going or how to get there either. We are blind, insofar as knowing our vocation and how to spend our time on this earth. We begin every Mass by saying Lord, have mercy, Christ, have mercy, Lord, have mercy, practically the identical words uttered by the hero of today's Gospel. We begin our Mass by asking Jesus to heal us, and to be with us as a sure friend and guide on our journey from Jericho to Jerusalem, from sin to grace, from darkness to light, from loneliness to communion with God and with one another.
Fr. Barron, one of the greatest evangelists of our time, reminds us in his homily for this weekend, that we do not end the Mass by asking for God's mercy, but we begin Mass there. The same must be true of our spiritual life. We do not begin the spiritual life assuming that we can see clearly, and only when our sight proves to fail do we think to bother Jesus. No, we begin the spiritual life with humility, admitting the real and almost certain possibility that we do not know exactly where we are going, nor do we know the way. We must begin the spiritual life not with trying to get as far as we can by ourselves, before realizing Jesus will have to take us the rest of the way. No, quite the opposite. Jesus does not want to pick up where we leave off, but to walk with us from the very beginning of our journey. He wishes to share His vision and His light with us, making bright the path before us, as a companion and friend. Jesus is not for us a last resort, after we have tried everything else, but a first option in helping us be who we really want to be, if only we have the courage to beg his help.
In order to begin the spiritual life, then, which is nothing more than a deep and intimate friendship with God who makes Himself available to us through His Son Jesus, we willingly assume the position of a beggar. We begin Mass by asking the Lord to heal us of our blindness. We do this not because a Catholic must always begin by beating himself up, not because that is what we have been trained to do. We don't do this simply because we hate ourselves and our weaknesses. No, we do this because we know in the depths of our being that from the beginning of our lives, we are never meant to walk alone. Life is not a hard test of who can be the most self-sufficient, the least needy and the least annoying. No, quite the opposite, life is a journey that is meant to be shared with friends, most of all with Jesus, who comes to make life easier by his unique friendship which always puts us in touch with our deepest vocation to love one another as He has first loved us.
It is not an unfortunate thing to be a beggar. This is really hard to get through our thick skulls. Unless Bartimaus is a true hero and model for us, we are doomed to live our lives within the dark circle of our own self-sufficiency, a very small and lonely circle of blindness and loneliness. Bartimaus is the hero of today's story, because he has the gift that no one else around him in today's story seems to have. He has the gift of humbly knowing that he is blind, whereas everyone around him falsely thinks that they can see. When we assume the position of beggar before God, the fruit is that we are able to move from isolation to communion, both with God and with one another. If we are seeking to become more dependent upon God, not less, like Bartimaus who would not let anyone tell him to leave God alone, the result will be that others will be less annoying to us. If we are not afraid to beg, those who beg of our time or our energy or our love will not scare us or annoy us. Like Jesus, who did simply what Bartimaus asked of him, when others ask us for something, we will see them not as annoying, but as a gift, and will be able to always give them at least something of what we have first received from Christ - his mercy, his friendship, and his love.
The next time we are attempted to no-show at some event, to screen a call we know we should answer, to tell a lie in order to preserve our independence, or to shy away from relationships that have the potential to be annoying, let us remember the response of Jesus to the blind man Bartimaus. If we first have the courage to beg Christ to be with us on our journey, we will receive from Him the grace to be His light to others in the same way! +m
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Priest must offer sacrifice of himself as well
Homily for the 29th Sunday in Ordinary Time
18 October 2009
St. Lawrence Catholic Campus Center
Year for Priests
For daily readings, click here
We are in the middle of a Church year dedicated to the interior renewal of priests, through the intercession of the universal patron of priests, St. John Vianney, the Cure of Ars. This year we are invited by our Holy Father to reflect on the meaning of the priesthood, and the role the priesthood plays in the mission of the Church and in the overall drama of the redemption of the world. What is more, we are invited to pray for the interior renewal of priests, that the Church may have not just enough priests, but good priests.
What makes a good priest? Well, we could start by seeing how each priest celebrates Mass. This is how we usually start in our priest evaluations. Some say Mass more piously, some with greater attention to detail. Some with very little personality, some with great personality. Some people evaluate whether a priest is good by how he preaches and how he celebrates Mass, and indeed, these can be small windows through which we may see the interior life of a priest, whether he is good and prayerful and loving and holy. But ordinarily, when we pray for our priests to be good, we are thinking about more than how priests celebrate Mass. We are usually praying that a priest is on fire interiorly. That he knows the love of Jesus Christ, and is able to reflect and to give that love unselfishly in imitation of Christ who has called him and set him free not to be served, but to serve. When we think about good priests, we think about priests who are faithful to their promises, and who consistently love their people and look after them, enlivened by the virtue of pastoral charity.
In reflecting on today's readings, we can see how Jesus Christ himself joins in his person the cultic and the servant dimensions of priesthood. A priest is one set apart, one called and designated to focus his life not on earth, but on heaven, and one charged to offer sacrifice to God on behalf of his people. As St. Paul tells us, Jesus is such a cultic priest. He is one set apart from among men so that He may focus his life on heaven, but Jesus himself is a great high priest because he has actually passed through the heavens. But this is not the only dimension of the priesthood of Jesus, the cultic dimension. Because Jesus is not only the priest, but as we have come to know him, also the altar and the lamb of sacrifice, Jesus is a priest who is set apart to precisely offer the sacrifice of himself. And so St. Paul says that this great high priest is able to sympathize with the weakness of his people, because he has come to bear their guilt and to give his life as an offering for sin.
So too any priest called by Jesus Christ today shares in the fullness of the priesthood as Jesus handed it on to us. A Catholic priest today is a man set apart to offer the sacrifice of Jesus. A priest is special in this way. People really do a double-take when they see a priest in a restaurant or at a football game. A priest is an ordinary guy, but also different. Within the Catholic tradition, a priest is ordained to act in persona Christi capitis, in the person of Christ as head of the Church. In offering the sacrifice of Jesus at Mass, a priest makes present the eternally acceptable sacrifice of Jesus, and so shares in the great high priesthood of Jesus Christ. In saying Mass, a priest makes present all the divine love and grace that is sufficient for the salvation of man and the redemption of the world. There is nothing more important for a priest than to offer this sacrifice of Jesus.
Yet there is something more to the priesthood that Jesus instituted and handed on to those whom He loves. When we ask whether a priest is good and holy, we are asking more than if he has faithfully offered the sacrifice of Jesus at Mass. We are asking more than if the priest said the Mass perfectly, even though each priest should celebrate the Mass as well as we can. No, even though we know that a Mass said validly provides the grace that it signifies, when we ask whether a priest is good we are asking more than if he said Mass that day. No, we are asking whether the priest has offered not only the sacrifice of Jesus, but the sacrifice of Himself, in imitation of the one who has called him to be a priest.
And so we enter into the conversation between Jesus and James and John. James and John wish to pass through the heavens with Jesus, the great high priest, and to be set apart and distinguished from ordinary men. But Jesus reminds them, in advance of handing on his priesthood to them, that anyone who wishes to be a priest of the new covenant must not only offer the sacrifice of Jesus, but should also offer the sacrifice of himself. Jesus asks the two whether they can drink the cup that He drinks, and reminds them that this is the most important part of their mission and their sharing in His priesthood, that they come to serve and to give their lives as a ransom for many.
Pope Benedict XVI has declared this a year for priests not so much so we can pat our priests on the back and be more grateful for them, but so that we can all offer sacrifice so that the Church will have the holy priests She deserves and needs. So in praying for our priests during this year for priests, let us ask that our priests continue to hear this call from Jesus to not only offer His sacrifice through the faithful and prayerful celebration of the Mass, but accept his invitation to be a co-redeemer with Him by offering also the gift of themselves. Through the promises of celibacy, obedience and prayer, may our priests hold onto a strong priestly identity, and so be men who are truly different, set apart to truly lead their people toward the holy things of heaven. At the same time, may they have the humility and generosity to draw ever closer to their people, and in imitation of our great high priest who is also the altar and the lamb of sacrifice, may our priests always come not to be served, but to serve, and to give their own lives, as a ransom for many.
18 October 2009
St. Lawrence Catholic Campus Center
Year for Priests
For daily readings, click here
We are in the middle of a Church year dedicated to the interior renewal of priests, through the intercession of the universal patron of priests, St. John Vianney, the Cure of Ars. This year we are invited by our Holy Father to reflect on the meaning of the priesthood, and the role the priesthood plays in the mission of the Church and in the overall drama of the redemption of the world. What is more, we are invited to pray for the interior renewal of priests, that the Church may have not just enough priests, but good priests.
What makes a good priest? Well, we could start by seeing how each priest celebrates Mass. This is how we usually start in our priest evaluations. Some say Mass more piously, some with greater attention to detail. Some with very little personality, some with great personality. Some people evaluate whether a priest is good by how he preaches and how he celebrates Mass, and indeed, these can be small windows through which we may see the interior life of a priest, whether he is good and prayerful and loving and holy. But ordinarily, when we pray for our priests to be good, we are thinking about more than how priests celebrate Mass. We are usually praying that a priest is on fire interiorly. That he knows the love of Jesus Christ, and is able to reflect and to give that love unselfishly in imitation of Christ who has called him and set him free not to be served, but to serve. When we think about good priests, we think about priests who are faithful to their promises, and who consistently love their people and look after them, enlivened by the virtue of pastoral charity.
In reflecting on today's readings, we can see how Jesus Christ himself joins in his person the cultic and the servant dimensions of priesthood. A priest is one set apart, one called and designated to focus his life not on earth, but on heaven, and one charged to offer sacrifice to God on behalf of his people. As St. Paul tells us, Jesus is such a cultic priest. He is one set apart from among men so that He may focus his life on heaven, but Jesus himself is a great high priest because he has actually passed through the heavens. But this is not the only dimension of the priesthood of Jesus, the cultic dimension. Because Jesus is not only the priest, but as we have come to know him, also the altar and the lamb of sacrifice, Jesus is a priest who is set apart to precisely offer the sacrifice of himself. And so St. Paul says that this great high priest is able to sympathize with the weakness of his people, because he has come to bear their guilt and to give his life as an offering for sin.
So too any priest called by Jesus Christ today shares in the fullness of the priesthood as Jesus handed it on to us. A Catholic priest today is a man set apart to offer the sacrifice of Jesus. A priest is special in this way. People really do a double-take when they see a priest in a restaurant or at a football game. A priest is an ordinary guy, but also different. Within the Catholic tradition, a priest is ordained to act in persona Christi capitis, in the person of Christ as head of the Church. In offering the sacrifice of Jesus at Mass, a priest makes present the eternally acceptable sacrifice of Jesus, and so shares in the great high priesthood of Jesus Christ. In saying Mass, a priest makes present all the divine love and grace that is sufficient for the salvation of man and the redemption of the world. There is nothing more important for a priest than to offer this sacrifice of Jesus.
Yet there is something more to the priesthood that Jesus instituted and handed on to those whom He loves. When we ask whether a priest is good and holy, we are asking more than if he has faithfully offered the sacrifice of Jesus at Mass. We are asking more than if the priest said the Mass perfectly, even though each priest should celebrate the Mass as well as we can. No, even though we know that a Mass said validly provides the grace that it signifies, when we ask whether a priest is good we are asking more than if he said Mass that day. No, we are asking whether the priest has offered not only the sacrifice of Jesus, but the sacrifice of Himself, in imitation of the one who has called him to be a priest.
And so we enter into the conversation between Jesus and James and John. James and John wish to pass through the heavens with Jesus, the great high priest, and to be set apart and distinguished from ordinary men. But Jesus reminds them, in advance of handing on his priesthood to them, that anyone who wishes to be a priest of the new covenant must not only offer the sacrifice of Jesus, but should also offer the sacrifice of himself. Jesus asks the two whether they can drink the cup that He drinks, and reminds them that this is the most important part of their mission and their sharing in His priesthood, that they come to serve and to give their lives as a ransom for many.
Pope Benedict XVI has declared this a year for priests not so much so we can pat our priests on the back and be more grateful for them, but so that we can all offer sacrifice so that the Church will have the holy priests She deserves and needs. So in praying for our priests during this year for priests, let us ask that our priests continue to hear this call from Jesus to not only offer His sacrifice through the faithful and prayerful celebration of the Mass, but accept his invitation to be a co-redeemer with Him by offering also the gift of themselves. Through the promises of celibacy, obedience and prayer, may our priests hold onto a strong priestly identity, and so be men who are truly different, set apart to truly lead their people toward the holy things of heaven. At the same time, may they have the humility and generosity to draw ever closer to their people, and in imitation of our great high priest who is also the altar and the lamb of sacrifice, may our priests always come not to be served, but to serve, and to give their own lives, as a ransom for many.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
God bigger than the world!
Homily for Tuesday of the 28th Week in Ordinary Time
Benedictine College - St. Martin's Chapel
13 October 2009
Year for Priests
For daily readings, click here
St. Paul suggests in his letter to the Romans that it is idolatry that is the principal sin that has delivered many into every impiety and wickedness. It is suppression of the truth that God is not a part of the world and the world is not necessary, that causes men to think they are gods, or to treat idols as gods, the result being the loss of a sense of transcendent goodness, and an erosion of conscience and morals. St. Paul points us toward two mistakes that we can easily make, but that there is no excuse for us making. First of all, God's power and divinity can be perceived through creation, but creation is not God. God, if he is God and not an idol, must be bigger than the world, and not a part of the world. Consequently, we cannot make the second mistake made by so many today, to regard the world as necessary and God as optional or contingent. For the atheist materialist, what is real is what can be measured, whereas what cannot be measured is fictional. Yet it does not follow that the world must be, that there must be something instead of nothing. We cannot make the mistake, says St. Paul, of turning God into an idol by assuming that the world, just because it is, is more necessary than God.
Jesus at the end of tonight's Gospel from Luke reminds us of a powerful means of cleansing ourselves from the inside. Of the three penitential practices recommended always by our Church in the battle against sin, almsgiving is suggested by Jesus to the exclusion of prayer and fasting, at least in this Gospel. I've heard of people having great success in their fight against certain sins by giving alms to a worthy cause every time that they recommit a certain sin. Fining ourselves, as it were, is oftentimes a strong remedy, both against our attachment to money, and our attachment to particular sins. If we know that we must give alms, maybe more than we think we can afford, if we commit a certain sin, and truly hold ourselves accountable, we can have a very effective and creative strategic weapon in our battle against presumption, complacency, and sin.
To Christ through Mary.
Benedictine College - St. Martin's Chapel
13 October 2009
Year for Priests
For daily readings, click here
St. Paul suggests in his letter to the Romans that it is idolatry that is the principal sin that has delivered many into every impiety and wickedness. It is suppression of the truth that God is not a part of the world and the world is not necessary, that causes men to think they are gods, or to treat idols as gods, the result being the loss of a sense of transcendent goodness, and an erosion of conscience and morals. St. Paul points us toward two mistakes that we can easily make, but that there is no excuse for us making. First of all, God's power and divinity can be perceived through creation, but creation is not God. God, if he is God and not an idol, must be bigger than the world, and not a part of the world. Consequently, we cannot make the second mistake made by so many today, to regard the world as necessary and God as optional or contingent. For the atheist materialist, what is real is what can be measured, whereas what cannot be measured is fictional. Yet it does not follow that the world must be, that there must be something instead of nothing. We cannot make the mistake, says St. Paul, of turning God into an idol by assuming that the world, just because it is, is more necessary than God.
Jesus at the end of tonight's Gospel from Luke reminds us of a powerful means of cleansing ourselves from the inside. Of the three penitential practices recommended always by our Church in the battle against sin, almsgiving is suggested by Jesus to the exclusion of prayer and fasting, at least in this Gospel. I've heard of people having great success in their fight against certain sins by giving alms to a worthy cause every time that they recommit a certain sin. Fining ourselves, as it were, is oftentimes a strong remedy, both against our attachment to money, and our attachment to particular sins. If we know that we must give alms, maybe more than we think we can afford, if we commit a certain sin, and truly hold ourselves accountable, we can have a very effective and creative strategic weapon in our battle against presumption, complacency, and sin.
To Christ through Mary.
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