The Twenty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time [B]
Isaiah 35:4-7  +  James 2:1-5  +  Mark 7:31-37

“Then will the eyes of the blind be opened, the ears of the deaf uncleared ….”

Mercy is the key that unlocks the human heart.  Mercy makes it possible for the human heart to become what God created the human heart to be.  Yet once a person has opened his heart to the gift of mercy, God is free to pour in all manner of gifts.  But if the sinner refuses to accept mercy, his heart remains tight shut, and God respects that decision.

It’s in this sense that mercy is God’s primary gift to fallen man.  Mercy is not primary in importance, in the sense that there is no mercy bestowed to those in Heaven.  Yet mercy is primary in the order of fallen man.  God always respects human free will, even though His divine Will is infinitely more powerful.  But if you don’t accept God’s gift of mercy, your heart is shut to all His other gifts.

The Church, as our mother, has for two thousand years preached that mercy is the primary need of mankind.  This is true not only within the Church, but outside the Church as well.  That is to say, each of us Christians needs to accept mercy so that we can be forgiven and hopefully one day enter Heaven.  However, we also need to accept God’s mercy because He calls us to bear the Good News of mercy to the fallen, divided, hateful world in which we live.  Yet we can’t be messengers of God’s mercy to those outside the Church if we haven’t first been on the receiving end of God’s mercy.  So consider the meaning of mercy.

By way of practical example, consider the way that a child does or does not experience mercy from those around him.  A child who doesn’t know that he’s loved at his worst will never accept the gifts that will make him his best.  Remember the Parable of the Prodigal Son.  If the prodigal son hadn’t turned to his father for mercy, then the father—who all along was deeply hoping and praying for his son to return—could not have rushed out to give him mercy and then also other gifts such as a ring and a feast.

It’s the same in your life as a sinner.  Because you are a sinner, God the Father’s merciful love is primary.  He has already accomplished the work of forgiving your sins by the offering of His Only-Begotten Son on the Cross two thousand years ago.  But you have to accept that gift of mercy.  Once you accept that gift into your heart, mind, and soul, the flood-gates are opened and God the Father can pour into your life many other gifts.

Imagine the life of a child in a wealthy family.  Imagine the child’s father is named Daddy Warbucks.  Daddy Warbucks is a man who constantly gives material gifts to his child.  But there’s one thing that Daddy Warbucks never gifts his child with, and that’s mercy.  Fortunately, this child’s conscience is smart enough to tell him that he needs mercy in order to have an authentic relationship with his father.  Unfortunately, this child’s conscience also knows that without mercy, no other gift has final meaning, no matter how expensive.

But keeping that first example in mind, imagine a second scenario.  It’s very similar, with the same child and the same generous Daddy Warbucks.  However, while Daddy Warbucks in this case does offer mercy to his child as a loving gift, the child—for whatever mysterious reason—refuses to accept his father’s gift of mercy.  Some might think it odd that a child would refuse the gift of mercy.  Unfortunately, for whatever mysterious reason, it’s far more common than people think.  There are many adults who have grown up without ever accepting the gift of mercy into their hearts.

It sounds simple, but we know from experience how divided we find ourselves in trying to put our Catholic Faith into practice.  We often blame God, claiming that God isn’t granting to us what we need to grow in holiness.  In this, we might remember a saying of the Little Flower’s namesake, St. Teresa of Avila:  “Christ does not force our will.  He takes only what we give Him.  But He does not give Himself entirely until He sees that we yield ourselves entirely to Him.”

Thursday of the Twenty-second Week in Ordinary Time [I]
Colossians 1:9-14  +  Luke 5:1-11
September 2, 2021

“But if you say so, I will ….”

In spite of Peter’s knowledge and experience in fishing, and in spite of his having been up all night long, Peter and his fishing partners had caught absolutely nothing.  Sometimes in what we do, also, we try our best, even at things we’ve done before and know a lot about, but things don’t work out for us.  That’s a natural part of life in this fallen world.

But in today’s Gospel passage, we hear about Jesus coming along.  Jesus was a carpenter, not a fisherman.  Jesus tells Peter to put out the fishing boat into deep water (not the best place to catch fish), and after the sun had risen (not the best time).  Peter starts out with a protest against Jesus’ idea, but then has second thoughts, and replies to Jesus, “But if you say so, I will….  I will lower the nets.”

Remember that God’s ways are not our ways.  Sometimes, when we pray, we end up telling God what He should be doing.  And when we hear God talking to us, we think His ideas are bad ideas.  When Jesus asks us to do something for Him, we should listen.  And through the grace that we receive in Holy Communion, we should speak as Peter speaks, and say to Jesus, “But if you say so, I will….”

Wednesday of the Twenty-second Week in Ordinary Time [I]
Colossians 1:1-8  +  Luke 4:38-44
September 1, 2021

… we have heard of your faith in Christ Jesus ….

Today the Church at weekday Mass begins to proclaim Saint Paul’s Letter to the Colossians.  We will hear from this letter over the next eight days, and will hear from the first three of its four chapters.

Most of St. Paul’s letters have introductions similar to one another, following a format that was common in Paul’s day for letter-writing.  But with greater scrutiny we notice unique touches with which Paul foreshadows the kernel of each letter.  One of these touches that he paints in today’s reading evokes the three divine virtues.

Paul says to the Colossians:  “we have heard of your faith in Christ Jesus and the love that you have for all the holy ones because of the hope reserved for you in Heaven.”  Paul is writing in this letter to commend the Colossians, yet also to caution them in light of temptations to not focus their lives on Christ.  Here at the beginning of the letter Paul is praising the Colossians at the same time he illustrates the reason that they might be commended.

For each of us, also, there is a need to grow closer to Christ, and to leave aside false hopes, empty loves, and blinding faith.  Christ is the means by which to grow in authentic faith, hope and love.  Christ is the fulfillment of all three:  the love of the Father, into the depths of which the Father wants us to enter.

Tuesday of the Twenty-second Week in Ordinary Time [I]
1 Thessalonians 5:1-6,9-11  +  Luke 4:31-37
August 31, 2021

… they were astonished at His teaching because He spoke with authority.

Astonishment is evoked by the fact that Jesus teaches with authority.  Why is there this astonishment, and what does it mean for Jesus to teach with authority?

In the culture that surrounds us, every person believes himself to be his own authority.  In effect, this wide-spread belief means that no real authority exists.  In our society there is a great need for clarity about the meaning and purpose of authority.

At its most literal level, the word “authority” is related to the word “author”.  The author of a novel can create worlds of his own design from his imagination.  Laws of physics need not apply.  Strange creatures can exist, and fantastic events are commonplace.  Tolkien, Baum and Rodenberry are all authors in this sense.  They have the authority to create worlds and races of creatures, and to confer life upon and take life from individuals.  However, this is merely a fictional form of authority.  In reality, there is only one Author of creation.

Jesus, as God from God and Light from Light, is this divine Author.  Through His divinity He has authority.  He exercises this authority throughout the three years of His public ministry for various persons, and for all mankind on Calvary.  However, in the face of His exercise of divine authority, astonishment arises for varied reasons.

Most cannot believe that a mere man could exercise divine authority.  Jesus, of course, was not merely a man, even though He was fully so.  In our own lives, we should not be astonished by the authority or power of Jesus.  We should root our daily lives in His desire to grant us His divine life.

Monday of the Twenty-second Week in Ordinary Time
Luke 4:16-30

… the dead in Christ will rise first.

Today’s First Reading is often proclaimed at funerals.  It’s full of teaching from St. Paul about death and the afterlife, fitting for meditation as fall draws closer and our minds turn to the Last Things.  Unfortunately, some of the Church’s teachings about the Last Things have been distorted.  We can find clarity through the wisdom of holy doctors of the Faith, and the Tradition and Magisterium of the Church.

Consider one of the phrases that St. Paul uses in this passage.  He refers to the dead when he writes of “those who have fallen asleep”.  Are we to understand this phrase literalistically?  That interpretation has been adopted by some Christians to the exclusion of the Catholic belief in the saints being alive and active in Heaven.  The Catholic belief in the afterlife would interpret this phrase of St. Paul as referring to the physical appearance of the dead:  that is, once the soul has left the human body, it seems to our physical senses that the person has fallen asleep.

The various human authors of Sacred Scripture often use such metaphors, which appeal only to what seems to be the case to the outer senses.  This appeal has a pedagogic purpose in teaching those who have yet come to understand the Faith fully.  The context, of course, in which to understand this phrase is Christ.  All depend on Christ for their life.  Those who sleep in death await Christ’s Second Coming for the raising of their bodies.  We who work in life rejoice in Christ coming among us in the Eucharist, to strengthen us in the face of the death that we embrace through our sins.

St. Augustine of Hippo, Bishop & Doctor of the Church
1 Thessalonians 4:9-11  +  Matthew 25:14-30
August 28, 2021

“A man going on a journey called in his servants and entrusted his possessions to them.”

It’s helpful to remember that the parables proclaimed at Holy Mass yesterday and today come from Chapter 25 of Matthew.  This is the final chapter before Matthew’s account of the Last Supper and the events that follow.  The section from which these parables come is sometimes called “the Olivet discourse”, in which Jesus’ attention is fixed on the judgment of Jerusalem.

We should not be aloof, though, in listening to Jesus’ words of judgment against Jerusalem.  The city of Jerusalem in the Old Testament is roughly analogous to the Body of Christ in the New Testament.  Jerusalem was meant to be the dwelling place of God on earth, where His holy people would dwell in unity.  In this light we ought to listen to this parable and consider how God will judge us.

The multiplicity of servants in today’s parable offers us hope, as well as room for cautious consideration.  We might ask, “Which of these servants do I most resemble?”  Perhaps, for example, we need to be jarred from self-complacency, and look hard at the last servant.

To avoid hearing the ultimate sentence of today’s parable, we ought to reflect on the penultimate sentence:  “For to everyone who has, more will be given… but from the one who has not, even what he has will be taken away.”  These words give focus to this parable, and can help us use it as an examination of conscience.

Friday of the Twenty-first Week in Ordinary Time
Matthew 25:1-13

“Therefore, stay awake, for you know neither the day nor the hour.”

The parable that Jesus teaches in today’s Gospel passage presents at the outset a question which can prevent us from reaching down into Jesus’ point.  We might well ask, “Why are there ten virgins but only one bridegroom?”  What is the setting or background to this story that Jesus is telling?  Scholars may debate such points, but for ordinary Christians like ourselves, it would be more fruitful to set aside such speculation, and dwell instead on applying the parable to our own spiritual lives today.

Christ is the divine Bridegroom, and each Christian is—in our fallen humanity—called to wed one’s self to Christ.  Our sacramental, spiritual life consists of our espousal to Christ, and in this each of us is one member of the Mystical Body of Christ.  Throughout her history the Church has (so far) had well over a billion members, each a spiritual bride to Christ.  Men may have difficulty applying this imagery to themselves, and of course this imagery has to be considered carefully.  Nonetheless, the writings (not to say the very lives) of both male and female saints show us how to grow authentically within these truths.

If we were to apply Jesus’ parable in a succinct way, we might consider the final sentence, where the divine Bridegroom exhorts us to “stay awake”.  We ought not rest comfortably in God’s grace, but rather realize our need each day to be alert to His coming more deeply into our lives.

St. Monica
1 Thessalonians 4:1-8  +  Matthew 25:1-13
August 27, 2021

“Therefore, stay awake, for you know neither the day nor the hour.”

The parable that Jesus teaches in today’s Gospel passage presents at the outset a question which can prevent us from reaching down into Jesus’ point.  We might well ask, “Why are there ten virgins but only one bridegroom?”  What is the setting or background to this story that Jesus is telling?  Scholars may debate such points, but for ordinary Christians like ourselves, it would be more fruitful to set aside such speculation, and dwell instead on applying the parable to our own spiritual lives today.

Christ is the divine Bridegroom, and each Christian is—in our fallen humanity—called to wed one’s self to Christ.  Our sacramental, spiritual life consists of our espousal to Christ, and in this each of us is one member of the Mystical Body of Christ.  Throughout her history the Church has (so far) had well over a billion members, each a spiritual bride to Christ.  Men may have difficulty applying this imagery to themselves, and of course this imagery has to be considered carefully.  Nonetheless, the writings (not to say the very lives) of both male and female saints show us how to grow authentically within these truths.

If we were to apply Jesus’ parable in a succinct way, we might consider the final sentence, where the divine Bridegroom exhorts us to “stay awake”.  We ought not rest comfortably in God’s grace, but rather realize our need each day to be alert to His coming more deeply into our lives.

The Twenty-second Sunday in Ordinary Time [B]
Deuteronomy 4:1-2,6-8  +  James 1:17-18,21-22,27  +  Mark 7:1-8,14-15,21-23

So the Pharisees and scribes questioned Him ….

On Calvary, Jesus sacrificed His Body and Blood, soul and divinity for all mankind:  not just for those who liked Him.  This means that Jesus gave up His very self in sacrifice on the Cross so that each scribe and Pharisee might enter Heaven.

So why did Jesus speak so boldly against the scribes and Pharisees in today’s Gospel passage?  Why are the scribes and Pharisees wrong, when they seem to have the Book of Deuteronomy on their side?  The Book of Deuteronomy, which is the fifth book of the Bible and the final book of the Jewish Torah, is set on the threshold of the death of Moses.  It is the end of the Exodus, that forty-year trek from slavery in Egypt, through the wilderness of the Sinai desert, to the Promised Land of milk and honey.

The entire Book of Deuteronomy takes place on this side of the Jordan River, before the Israelites conclude their Exodus by entering the Promised Land.  However, the Lord had decided that Moses, as punishment for his infidelities while leading the Exodus, would not be permitted to enter the Promised Land.  Before he dies, Moses must proclaim the Law that God had entrusted to his care on Mount Sinai towards the beginning of the forty-year Exodus.

It’s in this setting that Moses in today’s First Reading makes clear that the Promised Land is Israel’s only on the condition that its people neither subtract from nor add to God’s commands.  The result for being unfaithful to God is clear in the person who is speaking.  That is, Moses is a living example—or more accurately, a dying example—of what happens to those who are unfaithful to God.  God in effect is saying, “If you are unfaithful to my commands, which includes adding to or taking away from them, you will end up like this Moses:  outside the Promised Land, which is to be dead.”

Given this, how ought we understand Jesus saying that the scribes and Pharisees need to change in order to follow Him?  More to the point, do Jesus’ words against the scribes and Pharisees present a challenge to your own spiritual and moral life?

The simplest way to get at the “course correction” Jesus is demanding is to notice the contrast that Jesus speaks about.  He quotes the Old Testament prophet Isaiah:  “This people honors me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me” [Isaiah 29:13].  Jesus contrasts “lips” and “hearts”:  one’s outer self with its actions, and one’s inner life of motives.

But notice that for Jesus, it’s not lips versus hearts.  It’s the scribes and Pharisees who have in fact set up opposition between lips and hearts.  Jesus is pointing out that there’s not meant to be opposition.  Lips and hearts are meant to be integrated.  The scribes and the Pharisees, however, are content with just giving lip service to God.  It’s within this context that Jesus clarifies which human traditions and customs are in conformity with God’s Law.

How, then, can we make certain that, unlike the Scribes and Pharisees, our lips and hearts—our good works and faith—are thoroughly integrated?  The answer starts in what might seem an unlikely place:  silence.  St. James in the Second Reading sets the stage for this answer.

St. James invites us to “[h]umbly welcome the word”.  This “word”, of course, is Christ [see John 1:1].  The best start for humbly welcoming this word is silence.  Yet the silence needed here is not just a lack of audible noise.

Internal silence is needed.  Some people can very easily pray for an hour surrounded by external silence, yet the whole time they’re stuffing human words into their hearts, minds, and souls by reading or carrying on an internal monologue.  These human words exclude the divine word.

The divine “word”, who became flesh and dwelt among us [see John 1:14], is the measure—the standard—against which every person will be judged.  The divine Word made Flesh judges each human person, not only scribes and Pharisees.  In prayer we have to dispose ourselves by silence and patience to hearing this divine Word.  We must not only allow Him to speak to us, but also to judge the works of our lips and hearts.