Imperfect on Earth... Glorious in Heaven

Feast of Sts. Peter & Paul, Apostles
Today’s Readings: [Click here]

Last week, we celebrated the mass of the 12th Sunday in Ordinary Time. Next week, we celebrate the 14th. But today, we skip the 13th Sunday—not because it’s considered unlucky; the Church doesn’t suffer from triskaidekaphobia—the superstitious fear of the number thirteen! But rather because a solemnity of higher rank has come up on the Church calendar: the Feast of Saints Peter and Paul, the Apostles.

Not only is it unusual to replace a regular Sunday with a feast day, but it’s also highly unusual for two major saints to share the same feast day. Wouldn’t you think that Peter, the major apostle to the Jews, and Paul, the major apostle to the gentiles—would each merit their own day? I once heard an archbishop say that the shared feast day is a bit of humor on God’s part: since the two of them couldn’t get along here on earth, God put them together in heaven.

Maybe there’s some truth in that little joke. In his letter to the Galatians, Paul talks about the clash he and Peter had over the issue of whether gentile converts had to become Jews and be circumcised before they could be Christians. Paul wrote, “When Peter came to Antioch, I opposed him to his face, because he was clearly in the wrong” (Gal 2:11). But despite that disagreement, Paul made it very clear that he held Peter in high regard.

It actually gives me a lot of hope, and peace of mind, to hear that two great saints like Peter and Paul could be at serious odds with each other. And they weren’t the only ones! Saint Bonaventure fought with Saint Thomas Aquinas… Saint Jerome battled with Saint Augustine… and there were many others, too.

It reminds us that even the greatest saints are human and had human weaknesses and shortcomings. So I guess we shouldn’t be surprised when family members or close friends battle from time to time—sometimes even vehemently. We’re in good company!

And what’s more, that doesn’t necessarily put us in God’s doghouse. Everybody knows that Jesus singled Peter out and entrusted him with enormous responsibility. The Lord said, “You are Peter and upon this rock I will build my church” (Mt 16:18). He also said, “I will give you the keys to the kingdom of heaven” (Mt 16:19). Peter didn’t come by this honor on the basis of merit. Quite the opposite! Like Adam, Moses, Elijah and many others, Peter tried to duck responsibility and had many other character flaws… but Jesus came back, “Feed my sheep” (Jn 21:16).

Think about that! God chose Peter, an ordinary human being with many faults, to be his vicar on earth. He also picked Paul, with just as many imperfections, to be his number one missionary to non-Jewish world. With the Lord’s help, both of them rose above themselves and distinguished themselves in Christ’s service. And likewise, despite our own failings, we are called to do exactly the same—to let the Lord shape us, mold us, use us as his instrument of love and his witness to the kingdom.

There was a woman whose happiness was shattered when her very beloved brother died unexpectedly. In her anguish, she kept asking God, “Why?” But hearing only silence, she set out in search of an answer.

She hadn’t gone far when she came upon an old man sitting on a bench. He was weeping. He said, “I have suffered a great loss. I am a painter, and I have lost my eyesight.” He, too, was seeking an answer to the question, “Why?” So the woman invited him to join her, and taking him by the arm, they trudged down the road.

Soon, they ran into a young man who was despondent and walking aimlessly. He had lost his wife, the source of his joy, to another man. He joined in the search of an answer to the “Why?” question. Shortly, they came upon a young woman sitting on her front doorstep and crying. She had lost her child. She also joined them. Nowhere could they find an answer.

All of a sudden, they came upon Jesus Christ. Each confronted the Lord with their questions, but Jesus gave no answer. Instead, he began to cry and said, “I am bearing the burden of a woman who has lost her brother, a girl whose baby has died, a painter who has lost his eyesight, and a young man who has lost the love of his life.” As he spoke, the four moved closer, and they embraced each other. And they grasped Jesus’ hands.

Then Jesus spoke again. “My dominion is the dominion of the heart. I can’t prevent pain. All I can do is heal it.”

“How?” asked the woman.

“By sharing it,” he said. And then he was gone.

And the four? They were left standing, holding each other.

Peter and Paul fought. They struggled. They endured many difficult trials in life. Yes, we honor Peter because he was the first pope. We honor Paul because he set the standard for countless missionaries. But far more importantly, we honor them for their loving witness to Christ. They loved much, and they accepted and clung to each other despite their sometimes-great differences. What a glorious definition of what it means to be a saint. And what a glorious honor to celebrate their sainthood jointly!

Saints Peter and Paul, pray for us—that we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ.

Fear No One

Horace

The 12th Sunday of Ordinary Time
Today’s Readings: [Click here]

I wish we all could have a giant poster on the wall with Jesus’ amazing words today: FEAR NO ONE. That has got to be one of the most liberating bits of good news that Christ ever spoke.

When you think about it, it’s really pretty surprising how much we’re willing to complicate and add stress to our lives just by fearing other people. Instead of being who we genuinely want to be, or doing the good that our heart most desires to do, we second-guess ourselves about how other people might react—and then talk ourselves out of things. Our fear holds us back from having integrity and being authentic to who we are.

The Roman poet, Horace, is credited with the well-known Latin phrase, carpe diem—“seize the day.” In other words, don’t let fear kill your chance to take advantage of an opportunity to do something good. Hey, things might just work out to your benefit!

I was watching a movie on TV the other day. In one scene, some popular high school girls were giving another girl—the so-called “plain” one—a hard time. They had her intimidated until the hero came along and gave the girl the “Fear No One” speech. All of a sudden, this previously timid and frightened girl said to herself, “Oh, what the heck…”—and she bit the bullet and decided to be confident and bold, and go after what she wanted… with great success!

How many of us have been so afraid of rejection that we just give up before we start? Maybe it has to do with dating or pursuing a relationship. Or maybe our fear has to do with our work life; comic strips like Blondie and Dilbert have a field day with characters being cowed by the boss!

Other times, our fear has to do with our faith. You might be embarrassed to make the sign of the cross or pray the rosary in public… or say grace in a restaurant… or speak up about your religious beliefs to somebody who could really use God’s grace in their life. What a terrible loss of an opportunity to witness God’s love—missed because of fear.

Sometimes, the fear of embarrassment can even run the other way. I’ve talked to a lot of parents over the years who agonized over their children’s choices. Their story always starts, “We raised our kids to be good Catholics, but…” Then they tell me about how this child has married outside the church, or is in a gay or lesbian relationship, or has had an abortion, or wound up going to jail, and so on. Usually, these parents are desperate to be there for their kids—to love them without judgment, to comfort them—just the way they should!—but they’re afraid of what other people might say or think. It’s as if they’re petrified that the Catholic police will pounce on them and throw them out for being disloyal just because they want to do something good: stand by their kids!

So Jesus tells us today, “Fear no one! Don’t be afraid to say what you want to… in fact, shout it out from the roof tops!” Don’t be afraid to do the good and loving thing your heart tells you to do. Don’t be afraid to take a risk, step out on a limb, stand up for yourself or someone you love, help someone in need. Don’t hide your light under a bushel basket. Christ reminds us that nothing is hidden from God anyway. Everything that’s done in darkness, everything that’s said in a whisper—it will all be loudly and publicly revealed later on! There are no secrets in the kingdom. So when all is said and done, what’s the point in being timid?

And then, the Lord tells us so tenderly and lovingly about the two little sparrows sold for a penny… that not one of them falls to the ground without God’s knowledge. So how much more God loves us and will watch our back no matter what.

There’s a great story about a workman who was on the night construction crew for a new 16-story downtown office building. The man was leveling bricks on the seventh floor when he slipped and fell. He managed to grab onto the edge of the wall with his fingertips. He hung there in desperation. His cries for help were drowned out by the clatter and bang of riveting machines and all the other heavy equipment. He tried to pray. Again and again he shouted. His strength was giving out. At last with a scream of terror he had to let go. He fell—about six inches to the scaffolding that had been right beneath him all the time in the darkness.

The lesson is, often there is a way out of our fears, if only we knew it. The darkness of doubt and ignorance hides the help from our eyes. Often the best way out of a situation that seems hopeless or completely scary is to just let yourself go, in the sense of putting your complete confidence and trust in Jesus Christ. He promises today that he’ll be there to catch you, much the way that laborer found the scaffold underneath him.

Wouldn’t it be great to trade in your fear for something much better? Trust in the Lord’s love and commitment to you. This week, maybe you can find some fear barrier of your own to smash.

Called to be Apostles

The 11th Sunday in Ordinary Time
Today’s Readings: [Click here]

I want to start today’s lesson in a different way than usual. I’d ask you to take a deep breath… maybe even close your eyes momentarily… and think about what is wrong with your life.

It may be sin: something that you know is bad that’s got a grip on you, something you’re ashamed about, something from the past that’s haunting you. It might be something that the Church says is sin but you don’t feel it, but you’re still conflicted.

Maybe it’s some flaw in your character that bothers you: you talk too much, or are too shy, or too negative, or aren’t as friendly or helpful as you wish you could be. Or perhaps there’s something else about yourself that you feel down about: like not being smart enough, or not liking something about your body or your abilities in, say, sports or music.

Or maybe you’re unhappy or depressed or in pain over other events in life that you haven’t really had any control over: such as dealing with illness, or money problems, or the death of someone important, or being a victim of crime or abuse, or just reeling from a run of really bad luck.

You see, it doesn’t matter what it is; it could be just about anything. I ask you to zero in for a few moments on that pain or frustration or feeling of helplessness.

OK. Now, it’s important to remember that Jesus is right here, looking at you in your pain. With this in mind, listen again to the words of the gospel and put yourself in the scene: At the sight of the crowds, Jesus’ heart was moved with pity for them because they were troubled and abandoned, like sheep without a shepherd.

Yes, Christ sees your pain and knows that you are suffering in private. There’s no one else to take care of it for you. The Lord’s heart aches for you, because he loves you more than you can imagine. He wants to reach out to you and make things better.

So what Jesus does in the gospel is gather together his twelve apostles: Peter, Andrew, James and John, Philip, Bartholomew, Thomas and Matthew, James and Jude, Simon and Judas Iscariot.

Many Catholics look with reverence on these apostles as the Church’s very first college of bishops. And of course, we do have a special love for them; they said “yes” to God when that “yes” spelled near-certain death. Their faith is truly inspirational.

But there was something else about these people that’s also noteworthy.

When modern people are trying to deal with a problem in their life, it’s quite common to turn to various self-help organizations. What so many of these groups have in common is that their leaders have gone through exactly what you’re going through! The person who runs the meetings at Alcoholics Anonymous is a recovering alcoholic him- or herself. The thin person standing up front at Weight Watchers followed the program and lost weight like you’re hoping to do. The people leading the cancer survivor group have been through it in their own family and can teach you how to cope. Not only do these folks have lots of first-hand, tried-and-true advice to offer… but they also have credibility. When they say, “I feel your pain,” we know it’s true, because they once were where you are right now. What they offer is genuine hope.

So back to the apostles. Let’s knock them off their pedestal for just a minute. Last week, we heard about Matthew, the tax collector. Boy, did he have issues! Think about some of the other gospel stories featuring the rest of the gang of apostles:

• Peter, who was uncontrolled, had a temper, promised the world but often fell short.

• Thomas, who doubted; he fell way short in his faith.

• Bartholomew, the man without guile—maybe a nice way of saying he was too naïve and trusting for his own good.

• James and John who were angling for an unfair advantage—and even sent their mother to do their dirty work for them.

• And of course Judas Iscariot, who turned out to be a thief and a traitor.

So picture these twelve—and in fact, all the men and women who Jesus allowed to be his disciples, his inner circle—not just as saints, but as ordinary folks plagued by all the same problems and pains and shortcomings that we have. Picture them, then, as running the self-help organizations that we can go to for first-hand, tried-and-true advice on the issues we face in our life! In fact, that’s exactly what they did. That’s why our Church numbers in the billions today.

And indeed, there is more! Jesus wants each of us to be his modern-day apostle, too. To follow Christ, and to love God and neighbor, means giving hope and encouragement to anyone in need whom we meet. They are sheep without a shepherd… and we are called to be their shepherd!

“But,” you may be thinking, “how am I qualified to shepherd anyone else?”

I don’t need to remind you that our God accomplishes incredible things. Sarah had a baby at age 99… Mary conceived Jesus without a man… Moses raised his staff and parted the Red Sea… Elijah and the widow of Zarephath lived for a year off a small jar of flour and a bit of oil… a priest can turn plain ol’ bread and wine into the body and blood of Christ… all based on divine power.

God doesn’t want us for our qualifications or expertise. He calls us to follow him in Christ’s ministry because he loves us and because we have been shaped by particular experiences—and by sharing those experiences and our faith-filled response to them, with the Lord’s help, we can touch souls and draw people to God’s grace and peace.

Just the way Christ’s passion and cross led to his glory, so our pain and helplessness can put us on the path to our own.

So yes, think about your own struggles and pain. Not to be depressed, but to see the possibilities where the Lord can use you and your experiences to bring good and blessing to our world.

Yes, as Jesus says, the kingdom of heaven is at hand. And just think: it may be your hand that he’s talking about.

As For You, Child of God, Just Love

Dante Gabriel Rossetti, Self Portrait

The 10th Sunday in Ordinary Time
Today’s Readings: [Click here]

If you’re like me, you probably get emails all the time from organizations telling you which politician or corporation or other famous person or group has done or said something really, really horrible. You might be urged to write a letter or make a phone call or maybe even participate in a boycott to put suitable pressure on the villain of the week.

That’s the thought that occurred to me when I read this week’s gospel. Here were the Pharisees, whispering urgently into the ears of the disciples of Jesus: “Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?” (Mt 9:11). The unsaid next sentence being, of course: “Why don’t you talk to him and get him to stop doing that!”

To the Jews of Christ’s day, the tax collector, or gabbai as he was called in Hebrew, was a social and spiritual outcast. The gabbayim were lumped together with gentiles, sinners, murderers and thieves. Pharisees wouldn’t even allow the hem of their robe to touch one of them. And of course, not all the tax collectors were innocent victims. Most of them were untrustworthy and willing participants in an unjust economic system that exploited the Jewish people—their own people!

In case you’re wondering, let me tell you about some of the tax burdens that fell upon the Jews. Besides the regular taxes that everyone paid regardless of religion, there was a “protection” tax that had to be paid for every Jew over the age of 12. There was a special “coronation” tax that was collected whenever a new emperor, king or prince ascended his throne. And then, there was the so-called “Jewish body-tax” which Jewish travelers were forced to pay to the local authorities as they passed through a city. This was supposedly required to provide a military escort to protect them against robbers. When a Jew died, there was an “escort tax” to be paid on the way to the cemetery and yes, a special burial tax, too. An in some places, there were still other extraordinary taxes. For example, in one place, the Jews were taxed to supply all the parchment needed by the local tetrarch. In another city, their taxes bought pots and pans for the local official’s kitchen. So you can see why the Jewish tax collector was so despised by his own people… especially since he added to their burden by demanding more than just the tax, as a way to pay his own salary.

But amazingly, Jesus cared deeply for these clever thieves. He called Matthew to become one of his closest disciples. He invited himself to the home of Zacchaeus (Lk 19:5)—not just a Jewish tax collector, but the chief tax collector!

If you want to understand the love of God—and even better yet, model your life on it—it’s important to grasp the significance of Jesus’ deliberate outreach to tax collectors. When it comes to sinners, the church is definitely not saying, “Three strikes and you’re out!” Rather, Jesus’ lesson is this: when someone seems to you to be the worst kind of sinner—as traitorous and dishonest as a tax collector—then treat that person exactly the way Christ treated the tax collector… as the very person he was most eager to befriend. Leave it to others, if necessary, to find a way to bring him or her home. As Jesus says today: “Go and learn the meaning of the words, ‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice.’ I did not come to call the righteous but sinners” (Mt 9:13).

I find it very significant that only Matthew records these words of Jesus, comparing sinners in the church to tax collectors. As a redeemed tax collector, he would have understood immediately that Jesus was teaching us to see the sinner as one of us: a lost sheep in need of God’s grace… one Jesus was willing to go out and search for and bring back home.

There was a well-known poet and artist of the mid-1800’s by the name of Dante Gabriel Rossetti. One day, an elderly man approached him and asked him to look at some sketches and drawings and tell him if they were any good, or if they at least showed potential talent. Rossetti looked them over carefully. After the first few, he knew they were worthless, showing not the least sign of artistic talent. But Rossetti was a kind man, and he told the elderly man as gently as possible that the pictures were without much value and showed little talent. He was sorry, but he couldn’t lie to the man.

The visitor was disappointed, but seemed to expect Rossetti’s judgment. He apologized for taking up his time, but would he just look at a few more drawings—these done by a young art student? Rossetti looked over the second batch of sketches and immediately became enthusiastic over the talent they revealed. “These,” he said, “oh, these are very good! This young artist has great talent. He should be given every help and encouragement in his career as an artist. He has a great future if he will work hard and stick to it.” Rossetti could see that the old fellow was deeply moved. “Who is this fine young artist?” he asked. “Your son?”

“No,” said the old man sadly. “It is me forty years ago. If only I had heard your praise then! For you see, I got discouraged and gave up—too soon.”

Jesus says, “I desire mercy, not sacrifice. I did not come to call the righteous but sinners.” As his disciples, it is up to us to be his loving presence in the world—encouraging people, welcoming them, lifting them up, loving them no matter how unlovable the rest of the world says they may be. Leave it to others to send letters and emails of vilification… to stage boycotts… to refuse communion… to reprove others for their words or beliefs or actions that you don’t like. As for you, child of God, just love. Follow in the steps of Jesus, and you won’t be far from the kingdom of God.

Planting Roses

The 9th Sunday in Ordinary Time
Today’s Readings: [Click here]

Not too long ago, I got together with a close friend of mine named Matthew. He told me a funny story about how when he was a kid—and not too wise about the ways of nature!—he snipped off dozens of flowers from his grandmother’s rosebushes so he could plant his own garden.

Matt told me how his grandmother’s roses amazed him with their bright colors and sweet fragrance, and he wanted to have that magic in his own backyard. So he carefully lined up the fragile blossoms, sticking them side-by-side in a patch of dirt at the edge of his mom’s vegetable garden. He said that sweat was dripping from his brow. He decided that gardening was definitely hard work.

Anyway, the next morning, Matt hurried outdoors, expecting to see flourishing rosebushes. You can imagine his disappointment when all he found was dried twigs and the shriveled remains of once-beautiful flowers.

Matt said that the memory of that morning stayed with him. Even though the lesson was rather traumatic at the time, it did prove to be quite valuable. Matt learned that in order to survive, roses must have roots firmly planted in the soil. That’s where the real magic takes place.

As Christians, we hopefully learn a similar lesson. In order to endure and thrive, our faith must be firmly planted in Christ. Good, strong roots give plants the power to stand when the wind blows and the rain falls. And through their roots, plants draw water and nutrients for new growth. Likewise, if our faith is firmly rooted in Christ, we stand sturdy. Watered by the Holy Spirit, we grow into beautiful creations of God.

Today’s gospel passage tells us the same thing: you need to build your house on a rock-solid foundation so it will survive the storms of life. A plant or tree needs good roots to anchor it; a building needs a firm and dependable foundation. Whichever metaphor you like, Christ is our root and foundation.

It’s funny, though. Even though Jesus Christ freely offers himself to us, it’s up to each of us to accept him. Do you remember another gospel where Jesus tells the parable of the man giving a banquet? The invitations were sent, but the people who were asked didn’t come. Of course, we are those people. We didn’t come because we were so busy. Our demanding careers consumed all our energy. Our financial commitments and our desire to buy all kinds of cars and toys and household goods and clothes claimed all our money. Our social calendars demanded all our time. We begged to be excused from God’s invitation to celebrate and relax in the warmth of his love and generosity. No, we didn’t think we needed his gifts. We were content with what we already had, so we refused to come.

So in sadness and perhaps even anger, God turned away from us. He rejected us in our wealth, self-satisfaction, and comfort because we were too proud to accept his free gifts. We had other agendas. We had everything we needed. Nothing could be withheld from us. We dominated the world. No one could refuse us.

Except God. We had no hold over him. Our economic and military power couldn’t affect his realm. His realm knew no economic indicators, no pride of position, no force of arms. Our markets and missiles couldn’t penetrate the power of Christ’s love. Yes, God turned his back on us because we didn’t believe we needed him.

So what God did was what he always does: he called other people… others, in fact, who didn’t even merit our notice. He invited the homeless, the battered housewife and child, the AIDS patient. He drew the alcoholic and drug abuser, the criminal and robber, the sick and disabled, into his home. They expected nothing from God because they had received nothing from us. But Christ welcomed them. He healed them. He loved them. They became the citizens of his realm because they were humble enough to accept Christ’s invitation. They knew only that God had accepted them and received them. That’s all the mattered.

Maybe we can say that they put down deep roots of faith in his soil. They said yes to rebuilding their lives on a rock-solid foundation. As St. Paul put it in our second reading today: “Now the righteousness of God has been manifested… the righteousness of God through faith in Jesus Christ for all who believe.”

It is easy to look back at our own life at this point and perhaps realize with some sadness: “Yeah, that kind of describes me. I guess I have pushed away many of God’s invitations and gifts and blessings.”

But the good news, of course, is that God is so loving and so forgiving, that he gives us endless chances to fix things. The entrance antiphon today says it so well: “O look at me and be merciful, for I am wretched and alone. See my hardship and my poverty, and pardon all my sins.” That kind of prayer, said with sincerity, melts God’s heart. That is the basis for spiritual gardening or house building that can’t possibly miss. That is the path to a beautiful faith-life in the Lord, so we can say with the psalmist: “You are my rock and my fortress… Let your face shine upon your servant; save me in your kindness.”

Ask God today for the special grace to accept his invitation to get re-rooted… to build your house on a properly engineered, solid foundation. Your prayer will be answered.