Author: Fr. Scott Hurd

In a letter, a woman complained bitterly to an advice columnist that a homeless person hadn’t thanked her for the pocket change she’d given him. The columnist explained to her that we don’t always get recognized for the good we do. Today’s gospel reminds us that we shouldn’t expect to.

Yet that’s exactly what James and John did. They assumed that because they followed Jesus, they deserved special positions of honor and prestige. Jesus had to teach them that to follow him is to be a servant, and servants don’t go looking for recognition or reward. True service is selfless. It’s concerned with others’ needs, not our own.

This is something we often need to be reminded of, especially in our relationships. So often, we’ll try to love others…if they’re loving to us. Or we’ll try to love them… because we want them to love us in return. Or we’ll try to love them… because we want to feel good about ourselves.

But how often do we love others just for love’s sake? Probably not as often as we should. Maybe not as often as we think. Yet that is what Jesus does for us; this is what Jesus calls us to do. The world needs the love we have to share. And this love doesn’t seek rewards. Because true love is reward enough in itself.

Readings for today’s Mass: http://www.usccb.org/nab/030211.shtml

Photo Credit: Ed Yourdon via Creative Commons

When facing a big decision, we often ask questions like, “What would be the return on my investment? What’s the value added?” Such questions are fine when considering going back to school or making improvements to our home. We don’t, however, want to take this approach to our faith.

Yet that’s exactly what Peter did in today’s gospel. When he told Jesus, “Lord, we have given up everything and followed you!” he wasn’t complaining, he was boasting. He was expecting –even demanding- something from Jesus in return for the sacrifices he’d made.

Jesus acknowledged that Christian discipleship does reap great rewards- rich blessings in the present age, and eternal life in the next. But Jesus also offered a caution: “The first will be last, and the last will be first.”

Jesus’ point is that we shouldn’t approach discipleship as an effort to get something in return. Our motivation shouldn’t be about earning rewards or gaining entitlements. Instead, authentic discipleship is a faithful and loving response to all the graces and love we’ve been given. In short: Jesus invites us to seek him, not for personal gain, but out of humble gratitude.

A sneering passerby said to a Catholic caring for a dying AIDS patient, “I wouldn’t do that for all the money in the world!” The reply? “Neither would I.”

Readings for today’s Mass: http://www.usccb.org/nab/030111.shtml

G. K. Chesterton joked that ever since Jesus said it’s easier for a camel to pass through a needle’s eye than for the rich to enter heaven, we’ve been frantically trying to breed smaller camels and make bigger needles. Our Lord’s words in today’s gospel can make us very uncomfortable indeed, especially as we live in a culture that equates one’s worth with one’s wealth.

We all need money- there’s no question about that! Yet money can easily disrupt our discipleship, as it tempts us to greed, envy, pride, gluttony, workaholism, anxiety, indifference to other’s needs, and the illusion of self-sufficiency. It can lead us to forget God when we have it, and curse God when we don’t.

Money itself isn’t the problem. The problem is how we view it and use it. As Christians, our challenge is not to let our use of money keep of out of God’s kingdom, but use it to build that kingdom up. As Mother Teresa once said, “Money is useful only if it is used to spread the love of Christ.”

Readings for today’s Mass: http://www.usccb.org/nab/022811.sht

The two were best-selling authors, but their books could not have been more different. Rick Warren wrote The Purpose-Driven Life about Christian discipleship; Sam Harris’ work, The End of Faith, advances atheism. When they met to debate, Warren was direct: “You’re more spiritual than you think,” he insisted to Harris. “You just don’t want a God telling you what to do.”

But isn’t the same true for many of us who find ourselves at Mass on Sunday? Unlike Sam Harris, we believe in God. But that doesn’t mean we want God telling us what to do. We hesitate to trust; we assume we know what’s best; we struggle to be in control; we prefer to do things our way.

To be a Christian, however, is not to be independent. It’s to be dependent upon the Lord, just as a child is dependent upon parents. This is what Jesus meant in today’s gospel when he insisted that we need to become like children to enter God’s kingdom. Put very simply, to be in God’s kingdom is to accept that God is king, and surrender ourselves in faith and obedience.

The world may dismiss this as weakness- and in a sense they’d be right! But we know that accepting our weakness is the beginning of wisdom. “No one needs God more than I do,” explained Mother Teresa, “because I am so weak. I rely on him twenty-four hours a day.”

Readings for today’s Mass: http://www.usccb.org/nab/022611.shtml

Married life can be hard. It can be hard for 21^st century Americans, and it could be hard for 1^st century Judeans. If it weren’t, the Pharisees wouldn’t have pressed Jesus on the subject of divorce, as they did in today’s gospel. In response, Jesus explained that marriage was intended by God to be permanent. Yet to some then and to some now, this seems to be an unreasonable standard, because marriage can indeed be so hard.

Jesus spoke of husband and wife becoming one flesh. This refers to much more than a physical union. Instead, it’s a call to an intimate union of two persons which requires personal change, self-sacrifice, honest communication, openness to new life, and a desire to meet one another’s needs, heal each other’s hurts, and help one’s spouse become the person God intended him or her to be.

To do this is hard, and God knows it. He knows our selfishness, our neediness, and our fear of conflict. And God knows that it’s tempting for us to run away from problems instead of facing them head on, and to imagine that the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence.

This is precisely why God designed marriage the way he did. It takes a permanent commitment for marriage to flourish and grow, instead of it being crushed by our “hardness of heart.”

Readings for today’s Mass: http://www.usccb.org/nab/022511.shtml

When Jesus tells us to cut off offending hands and feet and pluck out sinful eyes, he’s using the exaggeration that was characteristic of Jewish speech in his day. It isn’t meant to be taken literally. It is, however, an effective means of communication, as it sure wakes us up and grabs our attention!

Jesus’ point is that we’re to be absolutely ruthless in eradicating sin from our lives, because he knows our tendency to become too comfortable with them.

Sometimes we rationalize our behavior, saying things like, “Everybody does it” or “I’m not really hurting anyone!” or “I’m too set in my ways to change” or “God has bigger things to worry about” or “C’mon! This was the only fun I had all week!”

At other times, we blame our actions on others. We complain: “It’s my job that’s driving me to drink” or “My parents made me the way I am” or “I’m not cheating on my taxes- the government’s stealing my money” or the classic, “The devil made me do it!”

All such excuses are masks for laziness, a fear to change or accept responsibility, or a presumption of God’s mercy. And it’s precisely these attitudes Jesus challenges in today’s gospel. He doesn’t expect that we’ll completely change overnight, or that we’ll ever completely eloiminate sin from our lives. But he does expect us to struggle- a struggle demanded by love, and the fruit of which is holiness and peace.

“Christian holiness does not mean being sinless,” wrote Pope John Paul II, but rather it means struggling not to give in, and always getting up after every fall.”

Readings for today’s Mass: http://www.usccb.org/nab/022411.shtml

Christian faith is a deeply personal thing. At its heart is a personal relationship with a personal God. We’re unique, as is the story of our friendship with the Lord.

At the same time, Christian faith is more than “Jesus and me.” It’s also a matter of “Jesus and we.” Faith in Jesus involves our being joined with Jesus’ body- the Church. And that Church has particular beliefs about who Jesus is.

These days, however, it’s tempting to think: “I’ll believe about Jesus what I want to believe. You can have your beliefs, and I’ll have mine.” That seems like such an inclusive and reasonable approach. Unfortunately, it leads many to have a “mistaken identity” about Jesus. And that’s not good, because to see the face of Jesus properly is to see the face of God himself.

Confusion about Jesus’ identity is nothing new. It was certainly true of the earliest centuries of the Church, when beliefs about Jesus were being ironed out. Those involved appreciated how critical that process was. One opinion was not considered as good as another. Some were correct, others were not.

St. Polycarp, a second century bishop, found himself in the midst of those debates. He was a gentle and kind man. His teaching about Jesus, however, was uncompromising. St. Ignatius challenged him to be “firm as an anvil under a hammer” about those beliefs. St. Polycarp took that advice. He ultimately died for it.

As St. Polycarp’s witness reminds us, our personal faith in Jesus, and what the Church says is true about Jesus, are meant to go hand-in-hand. After all, as Jesus himself taught- only the truth will set us free.

Readings for today’s Mass: http://www.usccb.org/nab/022311.shtml

A Christian website I’ve come across boasts that its reach extends to over 36,000 different denominations. I did a double-take when I saw that number, but on reflection realized that it’s a sad testament to Christian disunity in our day. At the same time, it made me grateful to be a member of the Catholic Church, united in belief under the teaching authority of the Pope and our bishops.

We celebrate this teaching authority today, the memorial of the Chair of St. Peter. When we speak of Peter’s “chair,” we speak of the teaching authority Jesus gave to Peter and the popes who followed him, an authority we call the “Magisterium,” from the Latin word for “teacher.”

As someone who began his Christian life and professional ministry outside the Catholic Church, I’ve come to cherish the Magisterium as a precious gift. Firsthand experience has made it clear to me that without a divinely-instituted teaching authority, what results is fragmentation, disunity, and schism. In other words, over 36,000 Christian denominations.

That’s certainly not our Lord’s will. He wants us to be one, which is why he established the Magisterium in first place. Today, let’s celebrate the unity of faith we have, and pray for reunion with those who don’t.

Readings for today’s Mass: http://www.usccb.org/