The Third Sunday in Lent

4 March 2018 at Saint Peter and Saint William Churches in Naples, FL

Exodus 20, 1-17 + Psalm 19 + 1 Corinthians 1, 22-25 + John 2, 13-25

We are accustomed to think of this scene as the last act of conflict that moves Jesus into his passion. That is because Matthew, Mark, and Luke place this incident at the conclusion of the ministry and journey of Jesus to Jerusalem. For them, this is the set-up for the violent reaction of the authorities. But today, we hear John’s version of this incident, and it is only the second chapter of John’s Gospel. Something different is going on. This is about authority and identity. For the other Gospel writers, that is settled by a Baptism and voices. Here it is settled by the voice of Jesus who says: “My father’s house”. It is a claim that sparks a dialogue as the “Jews” perceive that this dramatic temple act is a claim for his authority to represent God. They want a sign to validate that authority. In his response, Jesus speaks of his resurrection as the sign. In fact, John makes this clear in his Gospel by using the verb “raise up” rather than “rebuild”. Jesus talks about his body. They talk about a building. Here, the dialogue breaks down, and there is shift of attention to the disciples as the narrator takes over.

This is where we must find ourselves today. The narrator goes on to tells us that many came to believe because they could see the signs he was performing. In John’s Gospel belief based on signs or “miracles” alone rather than on the true reality pointed to by those miracles is inferior. Jesus will not entrust himself to these half-hearted believers. Something more is asked of us, something greater and stronger. As John’s Gospel unfolds, the way is now open to Nicodemus who appears in the next chapter and next Sunday as someone open to Jesus but not yet ready to affirm full belief in him.

Our faith today may not rest on signs and wonders. If it does, we shall drift helplessly away from him, because he will not “trust himself to us” in his own words. Our faith must rest upon the love of God that he has revealed, upon the hope we have in the power of life over death, and the desire of God to embrace us all in his mercy. As that temple in Jerusalem was once the gathering place of God’s people and the dwelling place of God, a new temple has been raised up. For by the time John wrote this Gospel, that Jerusalem temple was a smoking pile of rubble. By the time John wrote this Gospel, Jesus Christ had been raised up, and now, through him, with him, and in him all people give thanks, praise and glory for God lives in us, in his church. Like Nicodemus and the disciples, it takes time to come to this faith. It takes the Holy Spirit, and a desire to make Jesus Christ for us what the temple was for all those Jews, the center of their lives, a sign of God’s presence, and the place where all faithful hearts longed to find rest and peace.

The Second Sunday in Lent

25 February 2018 At Saint Peter and Saint William Churches in Naples, FL

Genesis 22, 1-2,9, 10-13, 15-19 + Psalm 116 + Romans 8, 31034 + Mark 9, 2-10

In the first reading today, we must not be distracted by Isaac and his traumatic experience. That story is about Abraham. It is somewhat the same with the Gospel today. That story is about those apostles, it is not about Jesus. That voice speaks to the Apostles. Jesus already heard that voice at his Baptism.

Everything Abraham had was given to him by God. Everything, including that son who came late and marvelously into the life of Abraham and Sarah. What God asks is that Abraham return to God absolutely everything God has given him. “Do you love me enough to give it all back?” This is what God is saying to the man who once left everything at God’s request and headed out into the unknown. “Will you give back what I have given you?” This is a stunning and challenging request, and Abraham is not the only one called by God in this way. We should sit here with a little discomfort at the realization of what this story is about because the living Word of God is spoken alive again in this place.

It is the same with Jesus Christ. In his prayer at the Last Supper he acknowledges that everything he has comes from the Father, and his deepest desire is to return it all to the Father and not lose anything the Father has given him. Peter, James, and John are the ones really transfigured on that mountain. Their lives, their faith, their hopes and dreams are now all caught up in this one who remains with them. They are now the ones being put to the test. Like Abraham, they have climbed a mountain and have heard the voice that calls out to them asking only one thing. “Will you give back to me everything I have given you?” They are now coming to realize slowly that this is what God asks of them, because this is what God asks of Jesus. Eventually, they will give back Jesus himself, and like Jesus, they will then give back to God their very lives.

My friends, there is no denial or avoiding the truth that this is what God asks of us as well. This season of Lent takes us to the test. It tests our resolve to give up and give back. A time of rehearsal, as it were, a time of testing that will prove what we are made of and how much we love the God who has given us everything.

The First Sunday in Lent

18 February 2018 At Saint Peter and Saint William Churches in Naples, FL

Genesis 9, 8-15 + Psalm 25 + 1 Peter 3, 18-22 + Mark 1, 12-15

It’s time to give some thought to the matter of Temptations says the Church on Lent’s first Sunday. Most people believe that “temptation” is the enticing of a person to do wrong. When most people think of “temptation” they think of evil, but that can’t be right, because something good can lead us astray just as much as something bad. The strength of temptation is always in direct proportion to the attractiveness of the goal. In other words, when the goal is really desired, temptations are just as great. We can fail to reach a goal when the path is simple just as much as when it is really tough. In fact, sometimes it is risky when the path is easy because we can get distracted by all kinds of fun things and forget the goal and waste a lot time. Earthly food dulls the appetite for heavenly food. Just look at the well-fed western world adrift in secularism and self-pleasure while the hungry of this world grow stronger in faith.

The scriptures are full of stories that illustrate this. Think of that rich young man invited to become a disciple. He goes away sad not because he did something evil, but because he had great wealth. There is nothing bad about great wealth. Good things can become temptations. Jesus goes to the house of Martha and Mary. Martha is too anxious and busy to listen to Jesus. Her concern for hospitality, which is good, distracts her from listening to Jesus. Those people invited to a banquet had all kinds of good reasons for not coming. Good reasons, good things to do, but they become temptations that lead them away from the banquet.

The truth is, we have as much to fear from good things as we do from bad. In fact, maybe more. When we see something that is really evil we turn away. The things that keep us from our goal are most often good things which is why they are so hard to resist. Most of the time in our lives, our choices are not between what is good or bad; but rather what is good and what is best. The devil hardly ever looks like an enemy or some frightening beast. My experience is that most often the devil seems attractive and charming; sometimes like a friend who has our best interests at heart. In this season, we must look for and pray for the wisdom and strength to resist these kinds of temptations; especially those that look good. When the choice is between the good and the best, we know what we much choose.

Ash Wednesday

14 February 2018 At Saint Francis of Assisi Parish in Castle Rock, Colorado

Joel 2, 12-18 + Psalm 51 + 2 Corinthians 5, 20-6, 2 + Matthew 6, 1-6, 16-18

The season into which we enter today is both a season for fasting and a season for feasting. In fact, I am coming to believe that just fasting without feasting makes little sense and is far from life-giving. We could learn more about this from our brothers and sister in Islam. When they fast, there is also a feast. They fast during the daylight, and come evening, there is great family feasting with food shared, companionship, and reflection. The fasting is time of anticipating the happiness and joy of the feast to come. It makes the fasting much more rich and meaningful.

As a child, I dreaded this season, and these forty days of Lent always seemed as though it was more like forty months than simply six weeks. There was little joy during these days making Easter seem more like a time of relief than a season of joy. Let me propose to you what may be a new way of approaching this wonderful season so that Easter and Lent might come together in a better way than we have imagined in the past. They really do go together just like fasting and feasting.

What I want to suggest is that we make a conscious and deliberate effort to both fast and feast for the next forty days: to fast from certain things and to feast on others.

It is time to: Fast from judging others; and feast on Christ living in them.

Fast from emphasis on differences; and feast on the unity of all life.

It is time to fast from words that offend and pollute relationships, and feast on words that purify.

It is time to fast from discontent, and feast on gratitude.

Fast from anger and feast on patience.

Fast from pessimism and feast on optimism and hope.

Fast from complaining and feast of appreciation and compliments.

Fast from bitterness and feast of forgiveness.

Fast from self-concern and feast of compassion for others.

Fast from anxiety, discouragement or fear while feasting on hope through Jesus Christ.

Fast from suspicions; feast on truth.

Fast from gossip; feast on silence.

Fast from problems that overwhelm, and feast on prayer that supports.

Fast from everything that separates us from the Lord; feast on everything that draws us to the Lord.

When we do some of this fasting and feasting, the Joy and promise of Easter will make these days a time for celebrating life and faith, hope and peace. Fast and Feast my friends. This Lent will not seem nearly as long, and we could pass these days with smiles, laughter, without waiting for Easter.

The Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time

11 February 2018 At Saint Peter and Saint William Churches in Naples, FL

Leviticus 13:1-2, 44-46 + Psalm 32 + First Corinthians 10:31-11, 1 + Mark 1, 40-45

We are all lepers. This story, as they always are, is about us. With no name, Mark casts this story with the focus on the leper, not the disciples or the crowd. We don’t know where this happened or when. This nameless man is anyone who needs what Jesus came to offer. The Jesus Mark puts before us is not just a man who has pity or feels sorry for someone sick. The word Mark chooses is powerful. It is compassionate. It’s as though he is saying that Jesus is moved to tears by the condition of this man. He responded man from the very depths of his being.

Jesus does the unthinkable. He touches that man. The fear of that impurity does not stop him. It happens again and again in the Gospel. Jesus touches those who seem beyond hope. It is almost as though Jesus wishes to trade places with this man, and in some ways, he does. In the end, Jesus, is the one who ends up alone, cast out, with a body broken, bruised, and bloody while that man goes free.

We are all lepers. We are all living like outcasts hiding from one another the truth of our lives. We even hide that truth from ourselves. The social consequences of sin are the last thing we want think about. In fact, we deny it by looking at sin as something private or personal. The evidence of that is the decline in our use of the Sacrament of Reconciliation. Why admit to someone else that we have sinned? After all, it’s just between me and God. No, it isn’t. We do not really admit our sinfulness, and we avoid the truth that sinful attitudes, like prejudice, racism, or sexism continue to isolate us from one another, avoiding those who are not like us, whose skin is different.

We are all lepers. The response of Jesus Christ is deeply emotional and compassionate. So much so, that he takes on the consequences of our sin in one last act of love. He accepted us and our sinfulness, and that acceptance is the answer to rejection and denial. In accepting ourselves as we truly are, we find the key to accepting others. The Jesus of this story is man of kindness, not a man of judgement. This is a man who reveals the mercy, the kindness, and the compassion of God to those willing to ask for what they need. It isn’t healing from a disease that we really need. It is acceptance, compassion, and reconciliation that we need, not just with God, but with each other. That’s why the man is sent to the priests, to complete his total healing and reconciliation with those who have looked upon him with judgement and cast him aside. That man become perhaps, the first apostle. He tells everyone what the Lord has done for him. It wasn’t just the healing, as I said, but the astonishing kindness and respect with which he had been treated.

Wouldn’t it be wonderful if people began to run around and talk openly about how they had been treated by us Catholics: about the kindness, the compassion, and the respect with which we met them day after day? Jesus reached out a loving and healing hand towards a pariah. He challenges us his followers to reach out to those society rejects today: prisoners, addicts, refugees, migrants, or those sick with AIDS. It’s amazing what people can do for others. People can rekindle hope, bring back a joy for living, inspire plans for the future, restore self-respect and pride. They can mirror the infinite charity of God. Isn’t that what we want to do and who we want to be?

The Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time

4 February 2018 At Saint Peter and Saint William Churches in Naples, FL

Job 7, 1-4, 6-7 + Psalm 147 + 1 Corinthians 9, 16-19, 22-23 + Mark 1, 29-39

First there was last week an exorcism in the synagogue, now there is a healing in a home. Perhaps the places are significant for Mark, but you can think about that later. This is still the first chapter of Mark’s Gospel. Like most literature, characters and themes are introduced at the very beginning, so what we get here is a movement from synagogue to home and from home to a deserted place. Much of this gospel is going to move around in these locations. The paring of exorcism and healing is a preview of things to come, as well as the behavior of the disciples, and the pressing crowds. The disciples want to control Jesus. They see their role as his “manager”. It will take time to move them out of that role. The crowds see him as a wonder worker, and they will run all over the place to see what he does, what he can do for them. There is not a lot of interest in what he has to say which leads him to insist that he has come to proclaim the good news.

Little has changed since that day in Peter’s home making this Gospel just as relevant today as it was then. To put it simply, Mark is saying that we cannot let our relationship with Jesus be based upon what he can do for us or what we can get out of him. Those crowds would not look beyond the material signs. So, Jesus insists to the disciples that he came to proclaim the good news. The signs and wonders he performed were done to draw people to the Kingdom, to awaken them to the reality and presence of that Kingdom, and lead to repentance and conversion of life that is required for life in the Kingdom. There is something deeper and more important than these signs and wonders. These healings and casting out of demons are like visual aids making the Kingdom real and perceptible.

The driving out of demons is releasing people from the kingdom of darkness. The preaching comes first, and as the truth of the gospel begins to enlighten people’s minds, the demons can no longer maintain their hold. When Jesus enters the home of Peter, there is something very significant, but if we do not wonder or ask, “What does this mean”, we cannot grasp what Jesus is really saying and doing there. Mark uses a word that provides a clue. The Greek word represented by “helped her up” is the same word used by Saint James in speaking of the sacrament of the sick when our ritual quotes James and says: “the prayer of faith will save the sick person, and the Lord will raise them up.” The word has a number of meanings: wake, rouse, raise, help to rise, relieve, restore to life. We should not try to limit the word to a single meaning but should use all the meanings. The mother-in-law gets up and begins to serve the guests. The presence of Jesus restores this woman to her life of service. The Greek word used by Mark to describe “waiting on them” is diaconia. Mark is not just talking about household tasks here, he is referring to service in the sense of “ministry.”

As we continue to explore Mark’s Gospel from now until Lent, we would do well to keep asking “what does this mean?” Even more so, we might take a serious look at how we relate to and what we expect of Jesus Christ. Getting all pious and prayerful when we want something without listening and responding to what he says to us puts us in the category of those crowds who never looked beyond the signs to being the repentance and conversion that is required for the Kingdom of God. Finally, in the last verse today, there is an invitation, “Let us move on to the neighboring villages.” The “us” here is not Jesus speaking of himself. It describes the role of his disciples. Spoken here today, this Gospel calls us into a more intentional discipleship and a share in the very word of Jesus Christ, a work of healing, restoring, liberating, and lifting up.

The Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time

28 January 2018 At Saint Francis of Assisi in Castle Rock, Colorado

Deuteronomy 18, 15-20 + Psalm 95 + 1 Corinthians 7, 32-35 + Mark 1, 21-28

It is easy to become distracted by the sensational in these verses. Shouting demons and man in convulsions in the middle of the synagogue is all it takes for us to get off track with what is going on here. If that happened in here today, I can guarantee you that this homily would be the last thing you remembered about Mass today! The whole contest between Jesus and evil spirits is just a preview of a theme that will continue throughout Mark’s Gospel. What really matters is what is happening between Jesus and the others who are present. Notice carefully that Mark tells us that the people were spellbound by the authority of Jesus before the conflict with the unclean spirit. That exorcism is not what amazed them. What did amaze them was “a completely new teaching in a spirit of authority.”

We do not have much of that these days. We have a lot of words from public figures, but there is a depressing predictability about what they are going to say. There is not a lot of authority, and the consequence is a lot of skepticism. Many of those doing the talking lack credibility for several reasons: they don’t even believe what they themselves are saying. I always suspect that when someone keeps repeating what they say they are trying to convince themselves that it is the truth. Then the character of the speaker matter. A flawed character does not start out with much credibility. There is an old saying: “How do you know when an addict is lying? Their lips are moving.” Finally, when a speaker does not live according to their own words, there is no chance anyone will believe what they say.

What we hear in today’s Gospel is that the teaching of Jesus was refreshingly different from the official teachers of the day. No Scribe ever expressed an opinion of his own. The Scribes always began by quoting some authority other than themselves. Jesus spoke with his own voice needing no other. His authority came from the fact that he spoke the truth. Some teachers just provide facts. Others provide vision, inspiration, and meaning, and that is the difference that Jesus provides, vision, inspiration, and meaning.

His authority came from his character because he back up his words with his deeds. Mark never says it this way, but his presentation of Jesus suggests that Jesus himself was the sermon. We really don’t need the words. Just watch what he does.

Even though Mark puts the question in the mouth of one possessed, we might consider asking that question ourselves. “What do you want of us, Jesus of Nazareth?” Last week the Scriptures reminded us that we have been called by Jesus to come and see. He didn’t say, “Come and listen.” Now it seems we ought to ask why – what does Jesus of Nazareth want of us? Simply being amazed cannot possibly be what he asks. There is more expected of a people chosen by God. Our witness to what we have seen and to what we believe must have credibility that comes from really believing, that comes from an upright character, and that comes from speaking the truth. When we cultivate this kind of credibility, our lives will provide for others a vision of the Kingdom of God, inspiration to make it real, and give our lives and our church some real concrete meaning revealed through our deeds of service and love.

The Third Sunday in Ordinary Time

21 January 2018 At St. Peter and St. William Churches in Naples, FL

Jonah 3, 1-5, 10 + Psalm 25 + 1 Corinthians 7, 29-31 + Mark 1, 14-20

At the time of Jesus, it was customary for most people to choose a rabbi and become a disciple in order to learn the law. The disciples did the choosing. With these Gospel verses, there is something happening that is out of the ordinary. Instead of these men choosing Jesus as their rabbi and becoming one of his disciples, Jesus does the choosing. He chose them. They do not choose him. There is something unique going on here, and we might pay attention to it.

Before retiring, when I helped with the formation of couples in preparation for marriage, I would often remind them that even though they thought they had chosen each other for marriage, it was not so. God did the choosing. God put them together, and if it was not the will of God, it wasn’t going to last. In my own seminary formation, we were constantly urged to discern God’s call asking whether or not service to the church was really what God wanted of us.  When I was the director of seminarians for my diocese and someone came in telling me they were going to be a priest, I knew we had a long way to go before that was going to happen. In this age of choice, when everyone seems to think it is their right to choose everything from the color of a car to whether or not another human being lives the action of this Gospel and part of its message seems like a new idea, but it isn’t. God has been making choices for a long time, longer than we can even imagine. The scriptures are full of the stories of God making choices, of who would be a prophet, who would be God’s people, where they would live, who would be king, who would give flesh to his son, and who would be his disciples.

Each of us might ask ourselves now and then, what we’re doing here, how we got here, and most of all why God chose us and not someone else. There are, you know, more people not here today than there will ever be in this church. Perhaps the Gospel we proclaim this Sunday is not about Peter, Andrew, James, and John. It seems to reveal something to us about how God works and about how people who experience Jesus Christ respond. God finds us doing what we do every day from mending nets to folding laundry, from driving to work to playing golf. He might find us here, but more likely we’re here because he found us somewhere else.

The message spoken by Jesus and his invitation to the Kingdom of God is spoken in this place today because, when we come face to face with this Gospel we are face to face with Jesus himself. My friends, we must stop thinking that the Kingdom of God is some place or some time period yet to come. The Kingdom of God is a new state of mind that brings about a new way of living. It grows through a web of relationship’s in which people experience loving union with God and one another. Jesus showed us what it looked like by his relationships with others, and he taught us to pray for it as we shall soon do. In that prayer, we find the best and most concise interpretation of the meaning: “Kingdom of God”: Your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as in heaven. The Kingdom is where ever and whenever God’s will is done.  What this Gospel reveals is that God is calling every one of us, and our first response to that call is to do the will of God right now without delay, and with every decision of our lives consider carefully what God’s will might be.

The Second Sunday in Ordinary Time – 14 January 2018

1 Samuel 3, 3-10, 19 + Psalm 40 + 1 Corinthians 6, 13-15 + John 1, 35-42

Even though we are now beginning the year of Mark, the Gospel today comes from John respecting an old liturgical theme of celebrating different manifestations of Jesus. John’s whole Gospel is a gradual manifestation of who Jesus is from this announcement of John the Baptist to Martha’s announcement at the raising of her brother, Lazarus.  So, only 35 verses into the Gospel two people reveal who Jesus is: John the Baptist and that first-called apostle, Andrew who says: “We have found the Messiah.” Late this coming summer, we will return to John’s Gospel and spend several weeks reflecting upon how Jesus is manifested in the Bread of Life.

For now, it is important to realize where Jesus goes looking for disciples, and who it is he calls. It is not to the high and mighty that he goes. It is not to the Temple High Priests or to powerful Princes and Kings. It is to working people who are at work. People who are called to follow Jesus are simply ordinary people doing what they do every day. These two disciples of John the Baptist have already been caught up in the anticipation, the desire, and the hope his preaching has stirred up. Suddenly their Rabbi, John the Baptist, points to Jesus walking by. Already attentive to John’s teaching, they follow his advice without a question and turn their attention to this one who passes by.

The writer of this Gospel is very careful and very precise about words. For instance: the question, “What are you looking for” is asked two more times in this Gospel, when soldiers come at night into the Garden of Olives and when Mary stands at an empty tomb. Today it is asked again, asked of us, by the Word of God in this assembly. When the question, “Where do you stay?” is asked, they want to know more than his street address. In John’s Gospel, the words: stay, dwell, abide, and remain all have a profound meaning, and they come up again and again throughout John’s Gospel. All of this should excite our imagination and take us beyond the simple superficial meaning of the words into the real themes at work. When Jesus says, “Come and see” we should remember that “seeing” for Saint John is the starting point of faith. Over and over again John has people “see and believe” from the signs Jesus worked.

Like those two first apostles, we are a people who have found the Messiah. We know that what we are looking for is not really here on this earth. I suppose that is why so many of us are so restless deep down in our hearts. We have to understand through the Gospel accounts where he stays, where he dwells, and where he abides. The story we have just told about a homeless couple in Bethlehem tells us quite clearly that he is to be found where we might least expect. Incidents in all four Gospels make clear beyond a doubt that he stays with, abides with, and dwells with tax collectors, sinners, the blind, the sick, the unclean, and the poor.

There is a progression here that can measure the depth of our spiritual lives. It begins with wonder and a question about what we are looking for. It moves deeper with a desire to follow the Christ and see where he stays. Then, coming to see, or perceive, and understand all of this is the beginning of faith. When we see and believe, we will truly be apostles whose first instinct and desire will be to bring another to Jesus. The question we are left with then after reflecting upon this Gospel is whether or not we have really seen and believed. Because, if we have, we would still be bringing people to Jesus.

7 January 2018 at Saint Peter and Saint William Churches in Naples. FL

Isaiah 60, 1-6 + Psalm 72 + Ephesians 3, 2-3, 5-6 + Matthew 2, 1-12

Some careless misreading of this Gospel has led to a rather unfortunate idea about what was going on here. While that carelessness has provided us with another nice romantic story to tell in the Christmas season, it does not touch the reality that has a lot more to say to us than what we are given. Matthew never says that these wise men, astrologers, or kings whatever another translator will choose to call them followed a star. It says that they observed a star “as it rose”.  It says nothing about the star guiding them. The next time the star is mentioned is near the end of their journey near Bethlehem. A rising star is an ancient metaphor for the birth of someone special. When you set aside a suggestion that has no biblical roots that some star was like a GPS system, you can begin to grasp what this is all about.

They made their journey in darkness. They had no idea where they were going, and so, they had to stop and ask directions, seek and inquire. Now I know that many women will find this surprising, that a man might actually stop, inquire, and ask directions, but these travelers did. Instead of imagining some magic star that is not found in the bible, why not imagine a real journey with doubts and dangers, wrong turns, and sometimes, maybe bad advice.

This journey Matthew describes is as much a gift to us as the gifts he describes were a gift to the child Jesus. Their journey is ours, and the story is told not to excite our imagination about fine robes and camels, but to encourage us persevere in our search for the King. Many of us set out on the journey of life with a great dream and bright future only to have it all disappear or collapse in a tragedy. Things and unexpected events get in the way like clouds hide the sun. Some of us lose our self-confidence or doubts arise and we think we are losing our faith. When that happens, the truly wise seek the guidance of others. They ask for directions.

What we really share when we tell this Gospel story is a message of hope that darkness will pass, and that by having the humility to ask and seek direction, with an unwavering commitment to life’s journey toward Christ, we shall come into his presence. What we also hear in this story is that when we do find the Christ the gifts with which we are born can be offered to our brothers and sisters, especially those who are poor as the Christ was.

Once they have found the Christ, Matthew tells us that they went back by a different way. This detail is not about taking a different route, it is about the change that came over their lives. Having met Christ and heard his Gospel, we too take a different route with our lives with different attitudes, goals, and values. It is impossible to encounter Christ Jesus without it change the path of our lives. What matters for many yet is that they keep going and never hesitate to look into the scriptures and seek the wisdom of those who know. That is the only way to find the real King.