Monday, September 30, 2013

Question of the Week







Twenty-seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time
Faithful Christians

Reading I           Habakkuk 1:2-3; 2:2-4a (Habakkuk's complaint)
Reading II          2 Timothy 1:6-8, 13-14 (exhortation to faithfulness)
Gospel                 Luke 17:5-10 (sayings on the requirements of faith)

Key Passage
Jesus said, "So you also, when you have done all that you were ordered to do, say, 'We are worthless slaves; we have done only what we ought to have done!" (Luke 17:10)

Adult         When have you done more than was required of you in the service of others?

Child          When have you done so

Wednesday, September 25, 2013

Catholic Bones




THE commitment I envision must be in our Catholic bones: the need to assemble each Sunday, to make common prayer in song, to hear the scriptures and reflect on them, to intercede for all the world, to gather at the holy table and give God thanks and praise over the bread and wine which are for us the body and blood of our Lord Jesus Christ, and finally to go from that room to our separate worlds—but now carrying the tune we have heard, murmuring the words, we have made ours, nourished by the sacred banquet, ready in so many ways to make all God's creation and all the work of human hands into the kingdom we have glimpsed in the liturgy. . . .
At this table we put aside every worldly separation based on culture, class, or other differences. Baptized, we no longer admit to distinctions based on age or sex or race or wealth. This communion is why all prejudice, all racism, all sexism, all deference to wealth and power must be banished from our parishes, our homes, and our lives. This communion is why we will not call enemies those who are human beings like ourselves. This communion is why we will not commit the world's resources to an escalating arms race while the poor die. We cannot. Not when we have feasted here on the "body broken" and "blood poured out" for the life of
the world.

Joseph Cardinal Bernardin

Tuesday, September 24, 2013

Twenty-sixth Sunday Ordinary Time C







The parable of Dives and Lazarus, like the words of Timothy, is a warning against wealth, consumerism, and materialism.
Enjoyment and abundance lived apart from care for the poor leads to spiritual destruction. 
Dives’ sin is not only his consumption but his apathy. 
He may not even notice the beggar at the door and, if he does, Lazarus is an inconvenience, standing in the way of enjoying his property, and frankly a blight on the neighborhood. 
In the afterlife, the tables are turned and now Dives suffers, while the beggar rejoices.

Is the gap between the rich and poor unbridgeable? 
Are the wealthy in jeopardy of losing their souls if they forget the poor? 
This is convicting language as we learn that the gap between the wealthy and poor is widening in the USA
and that the middle class as a group are shrinking in a time of record corporate and personal profits among the wealthy. 
While the poor do not have moral privilege, it is incumbent upon persons who affirm the way of Jesus to provide for the poor and the growing marginal middle class adequate food, housing, education, and health care.
This shifting of values is not optional for followers of Jesus; it is a spiritual and ethical requirement. 
Simply saying “Lord, Lord” and believing in the Bible is insufficient to save our spiritual lives if we turn our back on the poor. 
Sadly, many Bible-believing Christians spearhead legislation that would rob the poor of educational equality, voting rights, health care, and the ability to care for their children. 
Can such persons claim the name Christian? 
And can we in our own apathy? 

The gospel asserts that there is hell to pay for those who neglect the poor!



















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Sunday, September 22, 2013

Question of the Week






Twenty-sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time
The rich and the poor

Reading I       Amos 6:1a, 4-7 (third woe)
Reading II      1 Timothy 6:11-16 (the good fight of faith)
Gospel             Luke 16:19-31 (the rich man and Lazarus)

Key Passage   There was a rich man and at his gate lay a poor man named Lazarus, covered with sores, who longed to satisfy his hunger with what fell from the rich man's table. (Luke 16:19-21)

Adult What are the "rewards" of caring for the needs of the poor?
Child   What is one thing you and your family could do this week to help those who are poor or sick?

Twenty-fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time






Jesus develops the narrative in such a way that it focuses on the issue of trust between the rich man and his steward;
 in other words, on the interpersonal basis of their relationship.”
Trust  in a relationship. Trust, with the ones you know. Trust, with the stranger.
I believe, for all of my dull-witted thinking and weak-willed heart, the parable was firmly about “the rich man.”
After all, it bluntly began with its main subject: There was a rich man….
But it doesn’t matter that he’s rich.
So, it’s really about a man
but it also doesn’t matter that the lead character was masculine.
It’s about how humans live with other humans.
How does the rich man act?
How does the manager act?


Nothing the manager did revealed him as a loving, vulnerable human. Instead, the manager was manipulative and selfish.
In Jesus’ tale, we were given a glimpse of the manager’s thoughts:  What will I do, now that my master is taking the position away from me?
What! His master didn’t take the position away!
The manager screwed himself by squandering the rich man’s property. But, ah, how humans craftily blame another.
 I’ve met people like the manager, who casually and consistently blamed others for their failures.
Do you wish me, in my faith, to sally forth and be like the manager?
No. Thank. You.

There was a flawed, curious, hopeful, forgiving human in this story.
And that person was the story’s focus.
The rich man’s essential question to the manager will be: What is this that I hear about ___?

What’s the word the rich man used?
Was he concerned about his possessions, pride, and prestige or about how others saw him, or did he fret about his retirement fund and stock options?
Nope. Instead, his odd, personal question was: What is this that I hear about you?

The rich man was wounded;
the steward had wrecked their relationship by his  greed/incompetence/laziness/silence.
But there were no accusations from the rich man to his manager about the manager’s “work.”
We, the reader and hearer of this troubling tale, discover and rediscover how Jesus felt about the value and vulnerability of relationships.

I have long believed Jesus didn’t call anyone to follow him into a particular religion.
Jesus, after all, was never Christian (in any of Christianity’s thousand variations).
 And as a Jew, Jesus unsettled his fellow Jews by claiming he didn’t come to change a single “iota” of the law and yet kept exposing the flaws of the laws.
Turn the other cheek and (by the way) don’t think you only have two cheeks.
 Forgiveness trumped finances.
 Intolerance was intolerable.
The institution of any religion was and is never as precious as the individual.

Why does this parable trouble me so?

It invites me to prioritize relationship over religion and persons over property.
 It demands I trust you.

And when I do, I believe that makes me rich.

Thursday, September 19, 2013

The Creed continued

One Lord

We Catholics call Jesus Lord without a second thought. Yet, the strength of the word is still discernible as soon as we put it in a new context. Try calling your boss Lord. And, of course, if Lord meant not merely a medieval social superior, but God, perhaps we'd be jarred.
It is worth noting that for many of Jesus' contemporaries, our surprised feeling at calling our boss Lord was exactly how they felt about applying the title to somebody who was, for them, quite literally a popular mechanic. (Jesus was a teknon, or "skilled laborer." A closer translation than "carpenter" would be "handyman.") He was also a man—the sort of creature who uses the toilet every day. This made the claim of the Incarnation incredible enough to more than a few Jews.
On top of that, this "guru" had died a shameful death by crucifixion! You can begin to see how many Jews remote from the events of the Gospel would pay little attention to the apostles' claims about Jesus.
It's not a bad thing to be shocked again by the radical nature of the Christian claims about Jesus. Just so long as our shock doesn't prompt unthinking rejection and instead moves us to ask, "Why, then, did so many, even of the Jews, come to credit the apostles' account of Jesus?" Some scholars say that between the first and fifth centuries, about five-sixths of the Jewish population in the Roman Empire became Christian. They came to believe, along with the Gentiles, that Y'shua was Lord.
Y'shua's name, like everything else about him, was a sign. It was given to him by divine decree through an angel before his birth. It's a name with a noble pedigree: the same name that the conqueror of the Promised Land had centuries before.
Lots of other Jews shared the name, and this is fitting, too. For God, in becoming incarnate, was thrusting himself into the normal hurly-burly of human life and allowing himself to be swept along in the normal currents of day-to-day business as usual.
But in entering that life, he was also changing it forever: pulling it up into his eternal Trinitarian life and making it a participant with him in everlasting glory. That is why Y'shua means "the Lord is our salvation."
Jesus' other "name" is no name at all but a title. Christ means 'Anointed One." Jesus was never anointed (so far as we know) with oil by a Levitical priest. However, he was anointed by Mary of Bethany On 12:1-8). It was a loving gesture—one so beautiful that Christ promised that it would always be remembered wherever the Gospel was preached.
But the bittersweet fact is that this gesture of love was a haunting foreshadow of just what Christ was anointed to be: priest after the order of Melchizedek—and victim. Our anointing from the Holy Spirit is a call to walk in his steps all the way to the Cross—and with the Anointed One to resurrection.
Christ's most profound anointing takes place at his baptism in the river Jordan, when the Holy Spirit comes upon him. He does not, of course, need John's baptism. Indeed, he does not need the visible sign of the dove given to John the Baptist. But we do. That's because we are sons and daughters by adoption, but he is the only Son of God.
What is his by nature is ours only by the unbelievably persistent grace of God, working in our sinful, messed-up lives to make us "little Christs" with his constant help and intercession.
As St. John Chrysostom said, God gave us his only-begotten Son, "not a servant, not an angel, not an archangel. And yet no one would show such anxiety for his own child, as God did for his ungrateful servants."

Questions for Reflection

Ø  Why do we have so many names or titles for Jesus?
Ø  How is Jesus Lord of your life?

Ø  What does it mean to call Jesus the Christ?


Monday, September 16, 2013

Francis at the six-month mark seems a force of nature


This a good article summarizing our popes first six months.




Questions for 25th Sunday, September 22,2013







Twenty-fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time

The value of honesty

Reading I     Amos 8:4–7        (against greed)
Reading II    1 Timothy 2:1–8   (conduct of men and women)
Gospel          Luke 16:1–13         (the dishonest steward)

Key Passage Whoever is faithful in a very little is faithful also in much; and whoever is dishonest in a very little is dishonest also in much. (Luke 16:10)

Adult    Can cheating and deception ever be justified?
Child        If someone treats you unfairly, do you have the right to do the same to them?

Twenty-fourth Sunday Ordinary Time C



What is the difference between a crisp $20 bill and a soiled and rumpled $20 bill? A preacher showed his congregation a crisp $20 bill and asked who wants it. All hands went up. Then he crumpled it in his palms and asked who still wanted it. Again all hands went up. Lastly he threw it on the ground, marched on it and repeated his question. Still the hands went up. Then he explained to them that the difference between a new, crisp $20 bill and a rumpled and soiled $20 in our eyes is the difference between a good person and a bad person in the sight of God. Both are equally acceptable. Basically both stand equal before God "since all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God" (Romans 3:23). Henri Nouwen says it differently: "We are all handicapped; some are more visibly handicapped than others."
Today's gospel is the family story of a man and his two sons. At the beginning of the story we see that the younger son is the bad boy and the elder son the good boy. But by the end of the story we see that both of them in different ways prove themselves to be obstacles to the family unity and harmony which the father desired more than anything.
The problem begins with the younger son. Without waiting for his father to die he asks for his share of the inheritance. Then he abandons his duties and responsibilities in the family estate and goes abroad to live a life of fun. His reckless lifestyle drains his fortunes and he finds himself reduced to abject poverty and misery. That a Jewish prince like him should condescend to feeding pigs, which Jews regard as unclean animals, shows the depths of degradation in which he finds himself. A life of sins quickly enough leads people to a situation where they lose all sense of shame and decency. But no matter how far sinners stray from the father's house, the loving heart of the father always follows them, gently whispering in their hearts, "Come home! Come home!" Our wild, fun-loving sinful youngster has one thing going for him: he is not too proud to go back and say, "I have erred; I am sorry." And this is precisely what he decides to do.
How his heart would be pounding as he approaches his father's house, not knowing whether his father would take him back or not! "But while he was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him" (Luke 15:20). The young man begins to read his prepared confession but his father is so overjoyed he does not listen.
But the father said to his slaves, "Quickly, bring out a robe -- the best one -- and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. And get the fatted calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate; for this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found!' And they began to celebrate (verses 22-24).
At this point the story shows us the flaws of the good elder brother. Instead of rejoicing that his brother who was presumed lost has come back, he is angered by the fact that their father has received him back with a celebration. In anger he distances himself from his own family and from the party. As he leaves he mutters to himself, "This is unfair. This is unfair" – a word that is often used to justify anger, intolerance, self-righteousness and violence. In so doing the "good" elder brother brings disunity to the father's house and sorrow to himself. The sins of those who are not good enough (younger brother) as well as the sins of those who are too good (elder brother) are equally obstacles in the realisation of unity and harmony in the father's house.
We are all sinners. Whether your sins are more visible like those of the younger son or more hidden like those of the elder son, the message for us today is that we all need to repent and return to the father's house. The younger son needs to turn back from his frivolous lifestyle and return to the father's house and be a responsible and obedient son. The elder son needs to turn back from anger and resentment and learn to share the house with the apparently undeserving younger brother.
After teaching her Sunday school kids about the Parable of the Prodigal Son, a teacher asked them: "Now tell me: Who suffered the most in the story?" A child raised her hand and answered, "the fatted cow." Absolutely! Next to the fatted calf comes the elder son who remained outside while the party went on inside. He did not even taste the fatted calf that he had helped to raise. All because he stuck to his own ideas of fairness and justice and failed to see that the father's ways are not our ways. Thank God!

Monday, September 9, 2013

Questions for Sunday 24, September 15, 2013




Twenty-fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time
The courage to forgive


Reading I       Exodus 32:7–11, 13–14     (the golden calf)
Reading II      1 Timothy 1:12–17           (Paul’s gratitude)
Gospel            Luke 15:1–32                   (the prodigal son)

Key Passage   The servant replied, “Your brother has come, and your father has killed the fatted calf, because he has got him back safe and sound.” Then he became angry and refused to go in. His father came out and began to plead with him. (Luke 15:27–28)

Adult      When have you persistently sought after a member of your family who has lost his or her way?

Child         Have you ever felt you were not getting credit for your good works? What did you do?

Twenty-third Sunday Ordinary Time




What about hating our mothers and fathers, sisters and brothers, husbands and wives and children?
And even our own life?
Where does that fit in the structure of Christian love?
The Hebrew word for “hatred,” has no clear English equivalent.
The word “hate” does not necessarily mean disdain or reject.
It has more to do with an “order or priority.”
Nothing can take priority over commitment to God.
Jesus puts it all in bold type.
He lists, first, what is most precious to people--parents, spouses, children, life itself.
Can they be barriers to following Christ?
He answers yes.

Most of us have known people who had to reject family in order to pursue a vocation.
Imagine what families went through when young men or women, in the old days of strict cloister, entered religious life knowing that they would never see their loved ones again.
What about those who served in leper colonies and could never leave?
In the 19th century immigrations to the United States, children left their native lands, like Ireland, Germany, or Poland, knowing they would never see their parents or siblings again.

The gospel passage is all about commitment.
And all commitment involves some kind of cross.
Parents who are deeply committed to their children make sacrifices every day, especially those who are poor.
The single mother works two jobs to support her children.
She gives up social relationships for lack of time and money.
She carries her cross every day.
As someone once said, “Commitment doesn’t sit it out or sit it through.”
Even among young Americans in college, going to church might mean standing up to ridicule.
I have a lawyer friend who was talking, in her law office, about a sermon she had heard the previous Sunday.
Everyone around her reacted as if she had dropped out of some weird planet and said, with disdainful, repulsed looks on their faces, “You go to church?”
When 12th-century King Henry II appointed his roguish and playboy friend, Thomas à Becket, as Archbishop of Canterbury because he felt that such an appointment would guarantee his control over the church, Becket prayed in his chapel “Oh, God, I am yours now. Give me the grace to stay that way.”
He was later murdered by the king’s henchmen.

“Oh, God, I am yours now. Give me the grace to stay that way.”
All of us belong totally to God.
But it’s difficult to live like we do.

So that’s not a bad prayer for anyone whose eyes are fixed on Jesus.

Wednesday, September 4, 2013

23rd Sunday Question





Twenty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time
Discerning God’s will


Reading I           Wisdom 9:13–18a (Solomon’s prayer)
Reading II          Philemon 9b–10, 12–17 (plea for Onesimus)
Gospel               Luke 14:25–33 (sayings on discipleship)

Key Passage       For who can learn the counsel of God? Or who can discern what the Lord wills? For the reasoning of mortals is worthless, and our designs are likely to fail. (Wisdom 9:13–14)

Adult        How do you try to discover what God is asking of you?
Child        When is it hard for you to know the right thing to do? Who helps you                             know?