Thursday, August 28, 2014

Sunday 21 A



August 24, 2014


With regard to the spiritual dimension of life, getting it right is not an ego accomplishment of which we can be proud.
Nor does it mean "mission accomplished" and we can now move on to other things. Rather it means we have momentarily allowed the Spirit to have influence.
But this is a beginning, not an ending. Getting it right initiates a process.

Peter's confession that "gets it right" does not solve the riddle of Jesus' identity It opens him to the essential mystery that unites Jesus and himself, an essential mystery that now beckons him further.
Therefore, another phrase for "getting it right" might be "in over your head."
Or, put in another more enigmatic way, "getting it right" lays a firm foundation for a life of "getting it wrong."

The disciples in the Gospels are eloquent testimony to the rhythms of getting it right and getting it wrong. Jesus compliments them and criticizes them in equal measure.
In this story he names Peter the rock upon which he will build his Church. In the next episode Peter will be called Satan and told to get back into Jesus' following (Matt 16:21-23).
"Getting it right," having a spiritual insight, begins a process that requires ongoing correction and adjustment.
We know the bedrock truth of what we have perceived, but we do not know the full scope of what we have said or all of its implications.

Spiritual teachers often make a distinction between realization and integration.
Realization is "getting it right."
We grasp, for a moment, the necessity of Jesus' death on the cross or the meaning of grace or our grounding in eternal life.
A man who had a powerful religious experience exclaimed, "So that's what it is!"
When he was asked, "What?" he said, "God, that's what God is!"
He had always heard about God, but he had no idea what the word referred to.
This religious experience filled the word with meaning.
He realized the truth of a theological concept he had inherited. He got it.

But what will he do with it? How will he integrate the God realization into his life?

Strange to say, the sage advice is to ponder and not to rush.
Jesus does not want Peter and the disciples talking to others about the Messiah because they will get it wrong.
They do not know the full reach of their initial insight.
They have inherited ideas about the Messiah and the Son of God.
What they see in Jesus challenges those ideas.
But it will take time before those false ideas are completely rejected or modified.
They need to understand more fully before they act.

I think this is true for most of us.
Spiritual insight seldom comes with a clear path of action attached.
We need to ponder, to take more inner time to comprehend and see implications.
Any rush to action might be premature.
As a friend of mine is fond of saying, a year of bold action is usually followed by a year of apology.
In spiritual teaching action is ripe fruit that falls from the tree.
We have to wait for the harvest.
When we fully realize our initial spiritual insight, we will see paths of integration.

When the appropriate actions flow, "getting it right" turns into "getting it complete."
The problem is we cannot envision the action ahead of time.
We can give broad categories like compassion, love, justice, mercy, etc.
But this does not disclose the concrete way these values will be enacted.
But, if my experience is any indicator, when it happens, it will come as a surprise.

Denise Levertov, the poet, once described the fig tree that Jesus cursed (Matt 21:18-22) as telling the disciples that they were withholding "gifts unimaginable."
We know we are in the full reaches of "getting it right" when gifts unimaginable are flowing from us.

Sunday 20 A



August 17, 2014





From the very beginning, living as God’s people appears to have been a real challenge for those of us who like things neat, clean, tightly packaged, settled once and for all….
If we need to know where the circle ends, where the line is drawn, whose voice is “legitimate,” today’s readings don’t give us a lot of consolation. 
It seems that, in the divine scheme of things, there are no hard and fast boundaries.  There are no voices unworthy of being heard.  
“Impermeable” is not in God’s dictionary.

Matthew’s gospel reflects the encounter in the early church between Jews and Gentiles, between those to whom Jesus’ mission was presumed to be directed and those to whom Jesus was presumed to have no mission. 
The lines between “insiders” and “outsiders” quickly proved to be problematic.
Some believers were Gentiles -- the outsiders, and not every Jew -- the insiders -- was a believer. 
In today’s reading, the outsider (not only a sinful Canaanite in Jewish thinking, but a woman!) challenges Jesus and the prevailing view about legitimate belonging. 
The insider disciples, of course, presume to know where the boundaries are and assume the role of guardians of the way things are “supposed to be.” 
They think they know who salvation is for, who Jesus is for, where that leaves everyone else. 
They don’t have it quite right.

There is a ring of familiarity about it all. 
The voice of the stranger — the “foreigner” in today’s readings -- is always popping up just about the time things seem to be going smoothly,
 just about the time we have everything in place the way we want it to be.  
Our responses to that voice are usually variations on the response of the disciples--something like: “You don’t belong here.”
Or “you’re taking our jobs.”
Or: “You’re welcome to come in, but you need to know how we do things.” 
Which, roughly translated, means:  “As an outsider, you don’t conform to our definition of reality. 
We may have to include you, but…!”  
                                       And we tighten up the circle, try to plug the holes in the boundaries between the chosen insiders and the outsiders.      
It has been suggested that the purpose of the stranger is to awaken what is dormant within us. 
“Stranger” is related to the Old French word, “estrange” or “extraordinary.” 
 Perhaps the outsider is sent to us by God to shake us up, call out from us something fresh and fabulous. 
Those new members who join our parishes or our country with their own ideas may be sent to stretch us, open us to possibilities we’ve become too complacent to imagine. 
Those voices challenging the institution of the church from the edges (or even the outside) may be divinely-placed burrs under our communal saddle to make us sit up and take notice of something new. 
The Canaanite woman already possessed, surprisingly, the God-given seed of faith when she approached Jesus from the “outside.” 
And you can bet that her bold demand shook things up a bit in that early circle of Christians!

“Foreigners” come in all sorts of packages.  
They may be young and inexperienced; senior and seasoned; male or female; of any economic, cultural or political stripe;
educated in prestigious institutions or the school of life; from anywhere on the theological spectrum. 
The more unlike us they are, the more “foreign” and undesirable we consider them to be.  
And the more they advocate, beg, cajole, or challenge, the more dangerous they appear to us.

It’s easy to disparage the disciples’ reaction  (“Get rid of her—she keeps shouting after us!”) to the Canaanite woman. 
It’s even easier to react exactly that way on the conviction we’re protecting some unchanging reality or truth. 
Those of us on the inside get awfully attached to how we think things are or more shockingly, perhaps, how we think God wants them to be. 
Isaiah offers us a dose of reality.  
Foreigners, who presumably bring their foreign views and ways with them, are also acceptable to the Lord. 
And Paul reminds us that we insiders are really no different from those we disparage.

It might help to take a close look at how Jesus handles the situation in today’s gospel. 
He appears to have had a viewpoint about this woman. 
But he listens to her, and there is an exchange of Near Eastern wit between them.
You can almost see the smile on his face as she matches him in the verbal interchange.  
She is determined to make her case. 
In a moment of humor, gentle sparring and openness, Jesus changes his mind. 

For those of us who want to keep the borders sealed, that’s scary….

Sunday 19 A


Image: Night Passage, ©Jan Richardson.


August 10, 2014


Faith, in essence, is not about religion.
What I mean by that is that the depth of our faith can=t be measured by what prayers we say or how often we say them.
Whether we end up here on Sunday or down the street at Grafton Baptist Church isn=t what makes us faithful.
Bottom line, as protestant as it might sound, our Catholic church teaches that our faith is determined by our relationship with our Lord.
By definition, it must start as a very personal thing because our Lord sees each and every one of us as we are; unique, lovable.

Our Lord=s knowledge of each of us is personal, his concern for each of us is personal, and his call to each of us is personal.
He can be found, recognized, and responded to.

This Gospel reading for this Sunday, is an eloquent treatment of just that notion.
In so many places in Scripture the sea, a stormy, unruly sea, is used as a symbol of the world:
life, without God.
The apostles have been separated from Christ, they are alone in their boat, and the sea, the world without Christ, is stormy and chaotic.
So much so that they are about to be overcome by it.
Then Christ is pictured as mastering the storm.
He literally walks over it.

Peter saw Christ looking at him through the storm, and became confident that together with Christ, he, too, would be able to overcome the chaos that seemed to surround him.
Peter said, "Lord, tell me to come to you."
And so he did, he held out his hand to Peter.

And here Matthew describes beautifully something at least of what St. Paul would later call the contradiction, the foolishness of Christianity.
Before you can walk on the water, you gotta get out of the boat.
Before Peter could benefit from Christ's power, he would have to step out of whatever had been holding him up until then,
he would have to risk walking away from what seemed to be so safe and secure and reasonable.

And for us, too, that is the hard part.
Getting out of the boat.
Putting aside the false dependencies, the securities, all the ways that we think we can make ourselves immune from chaos.
Materialism is a popular boat.
What could be a better barrier against the chaos than money and the things and the power it can buy.
Any number of dependencies can float us along for a while.
Drugs, alcohol, pleasure, the need for acceptance.
Even the human relationships in our lives can be a dependency, an influence that keeps us from hearing Christ's call.
So can laziness, the habits we build of not responding, not involving ourselves.
So can fear, perhaps even more so than anything else.

Matthew's intricate symbolism this weekend is clear and eloquent.
Christ is very near.
He is standing at the edge of our own personal storm, calling us.
But in order to respond we must ignore the storm, look down at the boat, name it, and climb out.
That=s the test of our faith.
If we can let go of what=s holding us back,
And climb out of that boat.
And, if we sink?
Well, that=s the stuff of another homily perhaps.



Sunday 18 A



August 3, 2014



One of the reasons why this particular story became so important for the Early Christians is that it reminded them of the miraculous meal they celebrated regularly when they gathered for the breaking of the Bread.
Could you not hear the Eucharistic implications in Matthew’s account: he took the bread … he blessed … he broke it and gave it to them.
Two thousand years later we still gather in Christian community in the same hope of experiencing Jesus Christ in our lives through the breaking of the bread.
Our Gospel lesson for today reveals Our Lord at a time of physical exhaustion and emotional distress
For you may remember that Jesus had just brought his message to his own people, only to receive a stunning rejection in his home town of Nazareth, where the people were so angry with what he said that they threatened to throw him off a steep cliff.
The religious authorities were dismissive of him, criticizing him and his followers for their petty infractions of minor rules governing eating and religious observances.
And now he has just learned that King Herod has executed his cousin, John the Baptist, the one who baptized him and had supported Jesus in so many ways, actually encouraging people to switch their allegiance from him to Jesus.
So this is the context in which we see Jesus and the disciples suspend their active ministry in order to observe a time of retreat or Sabbath.
Matthew indicates that Jesus decided to pull back from the hurly-burly of the campaign trail and spend time in a deserted place where they might rethink strategy and recharge their emotional batteries.
This was a good idea … but it did not work.
The crowds pursued him, as if he were a rock star.
They traveled long distances from their homes to be near Jesus.
Did they come in fear for their futures?
Did they come in the hope that he was the Messiah, the long-expected One?
We do not know for sure.

Matthew tells us that they were determined to see Jesus and did not plan very well, for the day grew short and they were far from their homes with no food to hold them until they returned.
The disciples expressed a genuine concern to Jesus that the people would need to leave in order to avoid the problems of being stuck on the road, in the dark, with no food,
This is a deserted place, they said, and the hour is now late; send the crowds away so that they may go into the villages and buy food for themselves.
At first the disciples seemed uncaring, but, in reality, this was a practical reason for apprehension.
But Jesus took a different approach:
They need not go away; you give them something to eat.
In calling for the disciples to get involved in this crisis of a temporary refugee people, Jesus established the expectation that his followers would use their compassion to make good things happen.
This feeding of people in the wilderness was not to be a seen as some kind of razzle-dazzle spectacle to enhance Jesus’ fame and popularity among the people, but an insistence that Jesus’ followers distinguish themselves by their compassion, resourcefulness, and generosity.
The Church treasures this story because it captures the way in which Jesus challenged his disciples to address a problem and not ignore it.
Now the disciples were shocked by what Jesus was suggesting, because, like many of us, the disciples approached problems with a theology of scarcity … we do not have enough, we cannot do this, it is out of the question, we should not even try.
We have only five loaves of bread here and two fish!

But Jesus wanted his disciples to think not in terms of what they did not have but rather in terms of what God had given them … a theology of plenty.
The message in our Gospel lesson is that if we will embrace a challenge, bringing forward what we have, no matter how little, then God will do the rest.
Many a Christian congregation has launched a noble endeavor, mounted a ministry of outreach, broken ground for a new building … not because they had the money in the bank but because they had the vision, they sensed the need, and they were willing to trust that God would provide.
We will never know for sure what happened that day when more than 5,000 hungry people were fed.
Some believe that Jesus literally broke the bread and fish and they multiplied in a mystical manner so that a large quantity of food was produced.
Another theory is that as Jesus and the disciples shared the little they had, it encouraged others in the multitude to share what they had until a loving community was formed where each gave what he could and received what he needed.
Isn’t that a miracle!

Since we cannot know precisely what happened, we must simply remember that this story took on profound importance for the Early Church for some clear reasons
The story is a sharp reminder that individual Christians must never be so wrapped up in their own problems or concerns that they withdraw from the world and refuse to provide the help and support when others are in need. Left alone we can easily think like the disciples and say: Send them away … they are not our concern.
But this is not an attitude our Lord will accept.
He calls us to be generous and share.

The story is a clear call for the Church of Jesus Christ to be a compassionate Church, which hears the cries of people and responds to their needs.
You give them something to eat!
It matters not whether they are like us, members of our families, or people of our ethnic background.
If they are in need we must respond!
The story also reminds us that all people deserve our concern, as God’s instruments, simply by virtue of being in need, hungry, lost, and alone.
The love of God is like a parent with open, welcoming arms.
The love of God is like a mother who has fixed a meal that provides enough for all who are hungry.
Finally, the story reminds us of just what God can do when we give him what we have.
Five loaves and two fish.
That was not very much, as the world measures value.
But then Jesus said those amazing words:
Bring them to me! Suddenly what seemed like very little became the vehicle for a remarkable accomplishment.
This is a wonderful time to be alive and to be the Church! Open your eyes, dear friends … open your hearts.
Listen for the voice of Jesus.
Do not be lost and do not abandon hope. May your love and unbounded compassion be bread for this world. 

The Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary



August 15, 2014



Mary looked over at John writing at his table and smiled.
He had always looked so young and the years had not aged him very much.
She could understand why Jesus had such a special place in his heart for John, with his gentle ways and his easy love for people.

She gathered her cloak around her against the cold and closed her eyes as she thought about the many years of her life.
So much of it was beyond understanding and yet she believed it and accepted it.
Her son, Jesus, had been a wonder in her life.
She had not always understood all of what he did but she knew he had a special role on earth.
Their hearts had been bound together in faith and an unbreakable love.
She had watched him leave home, teach, heal and challenge the authorities.
Her heart had been pierced with such sorrow when he was arrested and tortured and finally put to death.
Her faith in the Father had carried her through those days, and the incredible joy-filled days that came after.

"Imma?" John, said using the most intimate form of "mother."
He laid a gentle hand on her shoulder.
"You are so quiet these days."
She smiled at him with affection.
"Dearest John, my life has been long and I have so much to be grateful for.
These years together have been so full."

It was true. In the weeks after he had risen, Jesus had spoken to them of a new order, a new way of life.
She had resisted the urge to cling to him and not let him go again.
She had to trust.
"I will be with you always," he had said.
In her heart, she knew it was true and once again opened her life fully to God's will.
She watched with joy as he was taken up into the clouds.
In the years that had followed, his message and life had given hope and meaning to a growing number of followers.
She had spoken to so many of the disciples and followers in those times.

Jesus was in her life, too, in a vivid and very real way.
She felt his presence with her as she grew tired.
She spoke to him from her heart constantly, just as she did when he was on earth. She felt a strong connection that was as unexplainable as it was real.
She closed her eyes again in thought.

"Imma," came the familiar, loving voice. "Blessed are you among women.
" She knew it was different.
She was not in John's house but with Jesus, standing in a place that filled her with a different kind of joy.
"My son," she said softly as they embraced.
She felt his cheek firmly against hers.

She did not know how or why.
There were no questions and no answers for this.
He had promised her she would be with him and the Father.
She touched her body in wonder and knew she had been drawn to a different place by power not her own.
It was her same body and yet different, more vibrant.

"You said 'Yes' to the Father's request, Imma," Jesus said to her.
"Your life was prepared in a special way and you followed it with such faith. Y
ou made my work possible."


As she had so many times before, she paused and opened her heart in prayer. "The Almighty has done great things for me. Holy is his Name."

Sunday 16 A



July 20, 2014



The disciples want to pull all of the weeds out of the Kingdom.
That means, of course — pull out everyone who doesn't agree with them!
Every group has to set some limits on membership in order to maintain identity, but for some members its just that they like to keep a neat garden.
The scribes did not like Jesus letting prostitutes and tax collectors into their perfect little kingdom.
But if we eliminate taxes, there would be no roads or bridges.
Everyone wants to kill all the lawyers these days, but without law, society would plunge into chaos.

Through the centuries, different Christians have wanted to eliminate members for their heretical views.
That sounds like a great way to keep the faith pure.
But the word "heresy" really means "choice," and one person's truth is another person's error.
Many heretics have later been proven correct.
The truth is, we need them!
After all, without people disagreeing with us, how are we going to keep us orthodox …honest?
Hummm! If the church world is too intertwined to weed, let's see what weeds might be pulled out of our secular world.

How about let's weed out the Democrats who favor abortion and gay rights?
But wait: if we throw those rascals out, we would lose their passion for civil rights, for truly caring for the needy, and education.

So why don't we try the Republicans?
No, wait a minute!
We might lose their sense of private.
You see, politics is blue and red only on a map and — too often — in our minds; in real life it is always a shade of purple.


If the public realm of church and state defies our determination to distinguish weeds from wheat, let's turn to our home garden.
We surely know those characters well enough to separate.

How about eliminating that husband who has affairs and yells at his children?
Well, he deserves some kind of correction, but simply getting rid of him leaves an empty paternal space in the family — and we are told all too often by the media and politics that family values demand a husband and a wife or else there's no chance for happiness.

But how long do we have to put up with those ungrateful, unproductive children? Or our babies who cry during mass.
Well     , once in a while, a child just might end up to be worthwhile, after all!

Our own modern church is unpleasantly divided between conservative and liberal factions.
We could go back to Latin in order to save our linguistic heritage, to get back to true reverence and awe in our worship, but it really is nice to know and understand just what it is we are praying for!

I know!
We could make the sanctuary holier by putting a Communion rail back in!
But, no, that would once again separate the church between us (meaning me, male, priest, celibate, ordained) and them (pretty much, all of you).
We could fight it out in the streets, as they did in the Middle Ages — but then we would look just plain silly — and not very Christian.

I know!
Let's ask the bishops what we should do.
After all, they are our ordained leaders.
Except that many of you might just want to weed them out for their lack of oversight and accountability.


So, maybe Jesus was right in letting the weeds grow along with the wheat.
You think he might have been on to something?
That doesn't mean that he approved of weeds or preferred a messy plot.
Maybe it was just that he understood the difficulty of telling a rotten person from a healthy person.
Perhaps he also had that idealist's hope that even a weed might evolve into a wheat stalk, given enough time.

But there is in human nature an unquenchable passion to judge others.
What if we gave in to that temptation right now?
What if we weeded out of this assembly all of you who are morally, politically or ecclesiastically incorrect, how many of us do you think would be left?
That's what I thought!

So I think for now I will go with the tax collectors and prostitutes, the heretics and the gays, maybe with the Democrats and, yeah, I'll side even with the Republicans..
Not just because any of them are more fun, but but      
Well, I'm going to take their side simply because the King said they would enter the Kingdom first.
I don't know what you will decide,

But I, for one, would like to be along for the trip

Sunday 15 A



July 13, 2014


One of the things that always strikes me as I read through the Gospels is how close a parallel there so frequently is between the teaching of the Gospel and the most basic principles of common sense emotional and mental health.
Just the simple fact that, emotionally at least, each one of us lives in the world that we build for ourselves,
that ultimately no one can make us feel anyway at all, not happy, not sad, not satisfied, not frustrated.
We are, each of us, ultimately, inescapably responsible for the course of our own lives and the emotional flavor of those lives.

Today's Gospel reading is probably one of the clearest instances of that message in all of Scripture.
The action of God, the spreading of the seed, was of equal force in each case described.
The one thing that made the difference between success or fail­ure from place to place, or from person to person, was the open­ness, the willingness of the one that received the seed, the Word.

That is a very simple message, really.
There is nothing, no system, no person, no thing, that will remove the personal challenge of growth
and present us with satisfaction as a finished product, all wrapped up and ready to enjoy.
Here are a few things that nobody packages, things which demand a personal involvement in their own creative processes.

Morality.
No one can really teach morality to anyone else.
We can and must offer an understanding of the difference between right and wrong in any number of situations.
But if that is ever to become something more than simply a list of dos and don'ts, a fundamental goodness must be created and nurtured in each individual.

A sense of purpose.
There is no one who can convince any of us that our individual lives are worthwhile, if we are unwilling to create that purpose ourselves.


A sense of identity.
It is almost fashionable to spend a lot of time and energy agonizing over the question, "Who am I? Who is the real me?"
There is only one answer to that, and it is the same for everyone.
Who do you want to be?
We are what we do.

Faith.
Actually, a lot of things could fit in here.
It is easy for us to believe that it is the role of the Church to provide us with faith, in about the same way a grocer provides us with food.
Faith doesn't depend on the Church, or on it's leaders, or it's practices, or anything else.
Faith depends on God's word being taken in to one's life, taking root there.

As the Gospel says, the seed has been sown, and it continues to be, every day of our lives.
There is no guarantee that it will grow.

But there is the promise that if we want it to, it can.

Wednesday, August 27, 2014

Sinfully Honest



U.S. Catholic readers confess that sin isn’t what it used to be, but they still commit themselves to a virtuous lifestyle.

In his letter to the Romans, St. Paul reminds us that “all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” That Paul always was a bit of a downer. For a long time, the people in the pews had a fairly solid understanding of sin and what it meant to “fall short.” But good ol’ Paul lived a long time ago, and the times, they are a-changin’. These days, the first association that many people have with the seven deadly sins is Brad Pitt in the movie Seven. Sin, it seems, may have fallen out of favor, at least among the more than 300 people who took our U.S. Catholic reader survey.

“It’s time to update our theology of sin,” says Kathleen Gibbons Schuck from Blue Bell, Pennsylvania. She says that, in lieu of a language of condemnation, we should be using language that people can resonate with, such as “separation and breaking down of relationship.” Paul Schlachter of Miami, Florida agrees. To him, the seven deadly sins are “arbitrary and reflective of the mores of the times,” he says. “They focus excessively on individual cause and effect, leaving untouched the social consequences that pass unperceived.”

Many U.S. Catholic readers seem to agree with that sentiment—or at least agree that many Catholics think that way. Seventy-two percent of survey participants think that Catholics do not take sin as seriously as they used to. They offer myriad explanations for this. Madeline Gough of Laguna Woods, California believes that this is thanks to poor catechesis. “[Young people] are not being taught by parents and educators such as priests and schools about their faith,” she says.

Some people think that it is not poor catechesis, but rather the church’s lack of credibility that is contributing to a lackadaisical attitude. William Bagley of Madison, Connecticut thinks that many church leaders have become “pharisees” who are “more concerned with rules than with the care of people who struggle with their lives.” Cynthia (who requested that her last name not be used) from Erlanger, Kentucky has some personal experience with that kind of priest. “I went to confession in Mississippi one time,” she says, “and the priest was yelling at me because I couldn’t remember the last time I had gone to confession. I should have walked out of the confessional!”

Other people think that the concept of sin as a particular set of rules just doesn’t make sense anymore, knowing what we now know about psychology and mental health. Patt McCabe of Wicklow, Ireland points out, “Some sins are mental health issues, such as substance abuse or gambling.” Margaret Glose from Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin claims that we are more self-aware than we used to be, reducing the need for prescribed sins. She writes, “We are just developing our own awareness of what to feel guilty about instead of feeling guilty because someone else has told us we should.”

Of course, some of the participants in the survey had yet another take on why it is that Catholics are not darkening the doors of confessionals all that frequently: They still take sin seriously, but they also recognize that not every sin requires a visit to your local confessor. Margot VanEtten of Rochester, New York explains, “I remember a priest describing what it was like to hear weekly confessions back in the day when you had to do that if you wanted to go to communion. He said, ‘It was like being stoned to death with popcorn.’ People were confessing to things that weren’t really sins, or trying to dredge up something to confess so they could receive communion.”

Not everyone is down on sin, however. Seventy-four percent of those responding to the survey report that they think the seven deadly sins remain a helpful guide for how to live our lives and how to treat others. Many people think that talking about sin does retain value, mostly because it gives us a way to examine our consciences. Jennifer Warden of Salem, Oregon says, “I think we tend to minimize sin. I think people today are very susceptible to the spirit of the age. We’re very relativistic and permissive. We don’t want to examine ourselves or judge others.”

Geraldine O’Mahoney of Stuart, Florida thinks that regardless of why people are not going to confession, they still need to. “Human nature does not change,” she says. “And God’s moral law certainly doesn’t change—therefore neither does the objective sinfulness of certain actions, nor our need for sacramental confession.”

Although about 30 percent of survey respondents claim that they can’t remember the last time they went to confession, many still think there is a need for the sacrament. Mitch Finley of Spokane, Washington agrees that going to confession is important, but he would like to see the church get a little more creative in how they handle it. “The fact is that there is a need for several options for celebrating the sacrament of reconciliation, one of which would be confession in private to a priest,” he says. “We need a communal reconciliation ritual, and if we had one, I think that it would be well attended.”

Dennis Winkelsas of Norfolk, Virginia agrees. “The church should go back to general or communal penance services,” he says. “I firmly believe that these services promoted a greater sense of sin, and a greater resolve of turning away from sin.”

If people are conflicted about the significance of sin in general, they are equally conflicted about what specifically counts as sin. In Greeley, Colorado, Elaine Hicks says that the sin she takes most seriously is “wrath, because it oftentimes is the result of feeling greed, envy, pride, and lust toward another.” Mary Branson of Mokpo, South Korea says that for her, “being judgmental” is her most serious sin.

One thing that most people seem to agree on, however, is that some aspects of the world have shifted rather significantly, and that affects the way that we relate to sin. Ariel Downing of Sheridan, Wyoming says, “We are so well connected—it is easier to hurt other people by our actions. The Internet, social media, and e-mail make it easier to hurt someone because there is no face-to-face contact.”

Silvio Darco of Tucson, Arizona notes that our modern sin landscape includes not just social media, but also “failing to understand the relationship between God and creation.” Robert Irwin of Berkeley, California agrees, stating that “our sinfulness is leading us to a triple catastrophe: environmental, political, and economic.”

Similarly, Richard Placone of Palo Alto, California recognizes that in our modern world, sin manifests itself in a uniquely global fashion. If he could make one addition to the classic seven deadly sins, he writes, it would be “global marginalization of the poor through unfair economics and perpetual warfare.”

Likewise, Robert Sammon of Tarrytown, New York writes that the most serious sins facing the faithful these days are all sins that we might not have even recognized as sins 50 or 100 years ago: “capital punishment, human trafficking, and economic injustice.”

With all of the negatives floating around, you might think that people are all caught up in the bad, even if they don’t want to call it sin. But the folks responding to the survey came back again and again to the virtues that help us to counteract sin. Helene K. Langan of Schoharie, New York writes, “I think that at this time the virtue of justice should be promoted because there is such a huge need for it in the world. There are too many who are hungry, poor, and jobless. The inequality between the rich and the poor is too great.”

Catherine Sims of Mundelein, Illinois thinks that the greatest virtue that we can rely on is humility: “Having a true sense of who we are before God and in relationship to the community of humanity. We forget so easily that we are creatures of God; not like God.”

Of course for all of the attention we pay to the seven deadly sins, they cannot hold a candle to the three great virtues. Michael Nagle of Edgartown, Massachusetts says that the path away from sin and toward virtue is paved with faith. “Live in the presence of God,” he says. “If you fall, rely on the mercy of God to pick you up and heal you.”

Sally Marshall of Lake Havasu, Arizona highlights the virtue of hope, saying, “I became a Catholic for the hope it offered me and a way to still live and go on.” And then there is John Chuchman of Central Lake, Michigan, who writes of the “greatest of these”: “God is love. When I live in love, I live in God and God in me.”

Valerie DaSilva of Kingston, New York sums it up as many have before her: “Love God and love neighbor.” The rest will work itself out.

And the survey says...

1. I’ve heard a homily about the seven deadly sins in the past year.

12% - Agree
80% - Disagree
8% - Other


2. Of the seven new deadly sins that the Vatican proposed in 2008, the ones that I think should become “official” deadly sins include:

15% - Using birth control and other “bioethical violations.”
19% - Stem cell research and similar “morally dubious” experiments.
28% - Drug abuse.
53% - Polluting the environment.
58% - Contributing to the divide between the rich and the poor.
26% - Being excessively wealthy.
70% - Creating poverty.

3. I will abstain from receiving communion if I know I have committed a serious sin and haven’t yet been to confession.

40% - Agree
48% - Disagree
12% - Other

Representative of “other”:
“Receiving communion makes you spiritually stronger and more aware to obtain forgiveness through confession. God is there for sinners and knows we are weak.”

4. I go to confession:

34% - Yearly.
16% - Monthly.
2% - Weekly.
18% - Only if I have committed a serious sin.
30% - I can’t remember the last time I went to confession.

5. The seven deadly sins are still a helpful guide on how to live our lives and how to treat others.

74% - Agree
16% - Disagree
10% - Other

6. The seven deadly sins are outdated and in need of a rewrite by the church.

29% - Agree
55% - Disagree
16% - Other

Representative of “other”:
“Maybe not a rewrite, but they should certainly be addressed from the pulpit in light of modern technology.”

7. Catholics don’t really take the idea of sin as seriously as they used to.

72% - Agree
16% - Disagree
12% - Other

Representative of “other”:
“Our language about sin has changed—as it should—but we need to go further, into talking, listening, and explaining.”

IF YOU HAVE THOUGHTS ON THIS, PLEASE LEAVE A COMMENT.

Fr. Robert

Tuesday, August 12, 2014

Sunday 14 A


In the Torah, under which Jesus lived, there were many laws and rules, and these were supplemented by centuries of interpretations of the Torah that regulated virtually every possible detail of human behavior.
While the Law is meant to bring Jews into right relationship with God and with others, any set of rules can become oppressive.
Part of the responsibility of the religious authorities is to see that religious and spiritual laws are obeyed. Jesus wanted to lift some of these legal burdens.

Many of you would probably tell me that the heaviest burden of your lives in the old days was your religion.
People used to agonize about going to hell if they went to communion after having had a speck of water touch their tongues after midnight.
How many people agonized over the sin committed by missing Mass even if they were sick or had to care for a sick parent or child?
I still have people confessing just that.

To be honest about it all, there are still a lot of the Pharisee in our own religion.
New rules about this or that keep being issued.
And it drives be crazy.
As one bishop said to a large gathering of priests B in another diocese, not ours: "These new rules have more to do with authority exerting itself than anything remotely associated with God."

All of you can come up with your own examples.
But it is true B the rules of religion can turn us into legalistic neurotics instead of freed children of God.
One of my greatest joys as a homilist is to help you understand that a loving God understands the heavy burdens you bear in life:
raising children, worrying about drugs in schools, taking care of elderly parents, single parents working at two jobs to support their children,
fear of a job loss, crime in the neighborhoods, guns everywhere, the high cost of education and medical care, to name a few.
Most of you end up in these pews having spent an exhausting week out in the world.
The last thing you want to hear from the pulpit is a road map for a guilt trip!
And you=re not getting it from me today.
Jesus tries to sweep away the rubble of such thinking.
"Come to me all you who are weary and heavy burdened and I will give you rest."

True religion empowers us to live a life of joy through contemplation, a sense of awe, a feeling of God's presence, all translated into good works for others.
As someone said "resting in God can give us the inner strength to live life to the full, with all its joys and struggles."
If we want to be confident we=re straight with God, all we need to do is examine our relationships with the people around us B
our families, the people we work with, the poor, the neglected, the forsaken in our world.
Are we doing all we can to help them?
If we are, we=re all right with God.
If we aren’t, we=ve got a problem that=s worth worrying about.
And maybe something to bring to confession that=s worth talking about.

So I=m not being facetious when I say ALoosen up.@
When we accept the invitation "to come to me, you who are burdenedY."
we catch a glimpse of God and a revelation of Who and what God is like.
When we ignore God=s invitation, all we have to look forward to is a life of heavy burdens and bags under our eyes.