Author: Fr. Scott Hurd

A priest from Nepal once shared with me his amazing conversion story. Born and raised a Hindu, Fr. Silas Bogati became involved with the American “hippie” drug scene of Katmandu in the 1970’s. He was headed down the wrong path until he was introduced to Jesus Christ by a street preacher. Fr. Silas was ultimately was ordained the first native-born Nepalese priest. But his conversion came at a terrible cost. When he became a Christian, Fr. Silas was shunned by his Hindu family because, according to the caste system, he had become an “untouchable.”

Many of the earliest Christians, who were Jewish, experienced much the same thing, because when Jews became Christian, they were expelled from the local synagogue and effectively cast out of their families. Jesus’ words in today’s gospel about divided families spoke directly to their situation, and to their pain. However, these early believers must have been consoled by the fact that by following Jesus they received a new family: the Church, a family of brothers and sisters in Christ, united not by blood ties, but by the unbreakable bonds of the Holy Spirit.

The same is true today. We Christians, throughout the world, are one big family. And in a world full of broken families, families separated by great distances, and those who have no families, this reality should fill many people with inspiration and hope.

The task for us, however, is to act and live as if weThe task for us, however, is to act and live as if we are family. In our parish communities, we need to work at being welcoming, friendly, and inclusive. We need to serve one another, respond to one another’s needs, and challenge, support, and pray for each other. In short, we need to make our parishes feel like family to attract those who are looking for a new family to call their own.

Readings for today’s Mass:http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/102011.cfm

Image Credit: Archdiocese of Washington

Have you ever picked up a book and thought: “Wow! This was written just for me! This is exactly what I needed to hear.” I have a suspicion that this is what St. Luke wanted each of us to think about the gospel he wrote.

In the very first line, he addressed his gospel to a person named “Theophilus.” In Greek, Theophilus means “Lover of God”- which is what we are! Luke, it would seem, wrote his gospel just for us. And as we read it, I’d bet he’d want us to think: “This is exactly what I needed to hear!”

Luke’s gospel is distinguished by themes of thankfulness, joy, and praise. It paints for us a portrait of Jesus who is prayerful, merciful, forgiving, concerned for the poor and outcast, and welcoming of all people- men and women, Jew and Gentile- into the kingdom of God. And Jesus is depicted as teaching at a series of meals as he journeys toward Jerusalem, where he celebrates a final meal- the Last Supper- at which he gives us a meal, the Holy Eucharist.

Like Jesus, we are on a journey to Jerusalem- the heavenly Jerusalem. And as we walk with Jesus, Luke would have us be nourished by the Eucharistic meal, so we can become more prayerful, joyful, thankful, compassionate, merciful, forgiving, and welcoming like Jesus- in other words, a true “Theophilus,” or lover of God.

Deep down, this is what we all want to become. That’s why Luke wrote his gospel, just for us. So we might say: “This is exactly what I needed to hear!”

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A cartoon I once saw featured a boss speaking to his staff. “Honesty may be the best policy,” he said, “but it’s not our company policy.” And while it may be funny, this cartoon reflects the sad truth that lying in our society has reached epidemic proportions. For instance, newspaper headlines speak of corporate scandals, fraudulent accounting practices, and insider trading. In schools today, surveys have shown that a majority of students cheat on tests or download research papers which they try to pass off as their own work. Job seekers pad their résumés with fake or exaggerated information. Car odometers are rolled back, expense accounts are padded, and spouses fib about how much they spent on that new dress or set of golf clubs. A recent university study revealed that a quarter of people’s “most serious lies” related to an affair. And considering that Jesus in today’s gospel spoke of the need to pay one’s taxes, it needs to be said that tax cheating is all too common.

Jesus gave this teaching after he had been approached by his opponents. They said to him, “Teacher, we know that you are a truthful man and that you teach the way of God in accordance with the truth.” The irony is, when they said that they believed Jesus to teach the truth, they were lying through their teeth. In a sense, all of us can relate to this experience of our Lord, because all of us have been lied to. And let’s face it: We’ve probably told a few lies ourselves.

People tell lies for all sorts of reasons. In our highly competitive society, , lies can help one gain an advantage over others and stand out from the crowd. And if everyone else is doing it, that makes it all the easier! Some people lie to get their “fifteen seconds” of fame- like the guy a few years ago who made up the story about witnessing one of the sniper attacks.

Other people, seeking revenge against someone they believe has hurt them, may start a vicious rumor. Some experience a thrill from lying because it gives them a feeling of having power over others. It’s not uncommon to lie in order to avoid punishment. You may remember Susan Smith, who in 1994 strapped her two boys into her car and then sent them into a lake to drown. If you recall, she tried to stay out of trouble by going on TV, saying her sons had been kidnapped, and pleading for their safe return. Finally, low self-esteem can lead some to exaggerate or even make up accomplishments or achievements, in order to feel better about themselves or impress others. For instance, phony war stories allow people with feelings of inferiority to be linked with the virtues of loyalty and courage.

Most of us believe that we do what we do for good reasons and with honest intentions. Therefore, when we lie, it’s easy to rationalize that what we’re doing is justified or even the right thing to do. We can think things like: “Nobody’s really getting hurt, so there’s really nothing wrong.” Or “I cheated on taxes or insurance- but only to get the money I rightly deserve.” Or “If everyone else lies on their resume, I better do it too so I won’t lose that job offer I want.” Or “If I told the truth about the way I feel, we’d just get in a fight and things would become even worse.”

As Christians, however, we are called to honesty and truth. This doesn’t mean that we have to be a bull in a china shop. We do need to be prudent and discrete in revealing the truth, because we don’t want to needlessly hurt or antagonize others. And this doesn’t mean that everyone has the right to hear the truth from us. To give an extreme example, no one would have to tell the Nazis where a Jewish family was hiding.

Nevertheless, God insists that we be honest people. As we all know, “You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor,” is one of the Ten Commandments. Indeed, God himself is truth, Jesus his Son reveals the truth, and they have sent the Holy Spirit of truth into our lives that we might walk in the truth and bear witness to it. Any lie, then, is really an offense against God himself.

Honesty and truthfulness are also requirements for justice and are essential for a civil society. “Men could not live with one another,” wrote St. Thomas Aquinas, “if there were not mutual confidence that they were being truthful to one another.” This is because lies always hurt those around us- even when we think they don’t.

In addition, Jesus has promised that the truth will set us free. It will free us from having to cover our tracks, live with shame and guilt, and the fear of our lies being discovered and exposed. The truth will liberate us to take off our masks and just be ourselves. It will also result in better relationships, less stress for ourselves, and less anger from others.

There is a cost to being honest! We may lose that job offer to the person who lied on their resume. We may have to “face the music” for something we’ve done or accept the reality of who we are, and not who we’ve been pretending to be. Our co-workers may resent us, because as one human resources expert has said, “employees who operate honestly and ethically often inspire anger, guilt, and resentment (from others).” Maybe we’ll end up with less money than we may have had if we’d fudged our tax returns. Nevertheless, we’ll be blessed with the assurance that God smiles upon our honesty, and we can unite our suffering with those of Jesus upon the cross.

As Mother Teresa once wrote, “If you are honest and frank, people may cheat you; be honest and frank anyway. You see, in the final analysis, it is between you and God. It was never between you and them anyway.”

Readings for today’s Mass: http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/101611.cfm

Image Credits: Wikipedia Commons, Wikipedia Commons, Wikipedia Commons

“Everyone has a little dirty laundry.” Or so proclaimed an ad for a popular TV show about desperate housewives. Well, I don’t know if everyone has a little dirty laundry, but I do know that today’s gospel speaks to us when we do. Jesus reminded us that while we might keep secrets from other people, we can’t keep them from God. He sees and knows all that we do, and he holds us accountable for it.

Yet at the same time, God wants to forgive us of these things. We might say that while God sees all our dirty laundry, he wants to wash it for us too! Or as St. Augustine once said, “The one who made you is watching you, and the one who called you is helping you.”

It’s important that we me realize this, because sometimes our “dirty laundry” can fill us with so much shame that we become afraid to bring it to the Lord. We worry that we’ll be rejected or condemned. Then we avoid confession, we avoid Holy Communion, and sometimes we avoid church altogether.

But this is not what God wants us to do. He wants instead to release us from our shame and lift the burden of our guilt so he can fill us with his peace and joy. As the author of today’s psalm wrote, “I said, ‘I confess my faults to the Lord, and you took away the guilt of my sin.’”

Readings for today’s Mass: http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/101411.cfm

Photo Credit: Wikipedia Commons

In my experience of working with permanent deacons, many applicants to our formation program confess that they don’t think they’re worthy enough to answer such a high calling. They often say this as if such a belief is a bad thing. In reality, however, it’s a good thing. It means that a person is approaching ordained ministry with reverence and humility, and not with pride, indifference, or a sense of entitlement. To be a deacon is a wonderful privilege. But it is also a great responsibility. To him whom God has given much, much will be expected.

I think we see this reflected in today’s gospel. Jesus spoke very stern words of judgment to certain scribes and Pharisees. Here, as always, Jesus harshest words are for those in religious authority. Jesus could be very gentle with thieves, prostitutes, adulterers, even his own executioners. But he was very different when dealing with religious authorities- the bishops, priests, and permanent deacons of his day.

He held them to a higher standard, because they should have known better, and because their attitudes, practices, and beliefs harmed many other people’s relationship with God. Think about what we have seen and experienced in our own day: If ministers are arrogant or lazy, their parish suffers; if they teach false doctrine, the sheep are led astray, and divisions are created; if they cause a scandal, the church is wounded, and the world laughs.

Today’s gospel should challenge all ministers of the gospel to be always mindful of the great trust God has placed in them. Indeed, it should challenge all the baptized, because through that sacrament we become public witnesses to Christ. This shouldn’t fill us with fear, because God is merciful and all things are possible with him. But it should fill us with awe for what God expects of us, and commit us to do his will and seek his kingdom above all else, that we might be faithful servants of the one who came only to serve.

Readings for today’s Mass: http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/101311.cfm

Image Credit: Wikipedia Commons

I’m going to let you in on a little secret. You’ve heard of “preaching to the choir?” Sometimes we preachers are guilty of that. More often than not, however, the words we preach are directedprimarily at ourselves- whether we’re conscious of it or not. One of the great preachers of the early church, St. John Chrysostom, said that if a preacher doesn’t practice what he preaches, he shouldn’t be stopped from preaching, because his own words might convince him to change.

I have a suspicion that St. Paul’s words in today’s second reading were intended for himself as much as for the Philippians to whom he was writing. He encouraged his readers not to have anxiety, but instead to pray and think about positive and lovely and true things. Certainly this was advice that the Christians of Philippi needed to hear! But Paul himself had worries too. He admits as much in his first letter to the Corinthians, in which he speaks of his “anxiety for all the churches.” He worried that they would be torn apart by divisions or led astray by false teaching. It’s possible that he was concerned about his own acceptance as an apostle, as he wasn’t part of the original twelve selected by Jesus. And because his was in constant danger of being imprisoned and tortured, we can imagine his sometimes being worried about this too. On one trip, for instance, Paul admits that he and his companions “were utterly weighed down beyond our strength, so that we despaired even of life.”

How Paul dealt with his own anxiety is surely reflected in the advice he gave the Philippians; he was preaching to himself as much as he was preaching to them. Of course, he’s preaching to us too. And we would do well to pay attention, because many of us, in some way or another, struggle with anxiety, worry, and fear- particularly these days. People worry about the economy, their jobs, retirement, house values, terrorism, the conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan, and the effects of global warming. And let’s not forget worries about health, kids, reputations, the effects of growing older, and the inevitability of death. Such worries can paralyze us, consume our thoughts and energies, ruin our mood, strain our human relationships, and effect our relationship with God too. We get angry with God, forget all the good things he’s done for us, lose sight of his presence in our lives, and worst of all, come to doubt his care and love for us. Yet this doesn’t need to be the case. St. Paul, in spite of everything he might have worried about, never lost his trust in God. He always remained grateful even in the most difficult circumstances, and he never failed to persevere in faith. The inspired advice he gave the Philippians certainly worked for him. Perhaps we should take it to heart too.

To begin with, Paul explains that when we begin to worry, we should lift up prayers and petitions to God. This may sound simple, even naïve. But have you ever been so consumed with worry that you forget to pray? We wring our hands, but forget to fold them. Not praying, however, only makes our worry worse. Yet when we pray, we put the whole matter in God’s hands, ask him to give us the help that only he can give, are reminded that he loves and cares for us, and we allow him to give us direction on how to deal with the things we’re worried about. Have you heard the slogan, “Give your worries to God each evening; he’s going to be up all night anyway?” It’s corny, but true. Whenever we find ourselves worrying, we should turn that into a prayer opportunity. Even if the only prayer we can muster is “Help!”

In addition to praying, St. Paul says, we also need to change the way we think. Instead of letting our hearts and minds be filled withanxious thoughts, we should think instead of those things which are true, honorable, just, pure, lovely, gracious, and excellent. Paul knew that we can lose sight of these things when we’re worried, and in so doing, it warps our view of the world. We see only the darkness, and are blinded to the light. Have you ever been so consumed with worry that you failed to notice the sights and smells of a beautiful morning when you stepped outside? However, when we make an intentional effort to think of those things Paul mentioned, we’re reminded of what’s good and beautiful in our world, all of which comes from God’s loving hand. And whenever we remember the good things of God, we remember the goodness of God himself.

It’s important to recall that Paul didn’t make any false promises or create unrealistic expectations. He didn’t say that praying and changing the way we think would take away our difficulties.He wrote his advice, in fact, while he was in prison and in great danger. He knew full well that sufferings and hardships are inevitable for anyone who chooses to follow a crucified Lord. We can’t avoid it. What we can do, however,  is avoid losing sight that God can bring good out of evil, and that Jesus’ victory over evil offers us an eternal life without it. Praying and thinking won’t erase our problems. But they can replace anxiety and despair, with trust and hope.

Paul may very well have been preaching to himself as much as he is to us. But we can be grateful for that, because his advice is so timely and true, and we can see the good fruit that Paul’s practices bore in his life. He is, after all, a saint! However, there is one final thing Paul wrote today that’s intended exclusively for us: his request that we imitate him.  For if we do, “the peace of God that surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.”

Readings for today’s Mass: http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/100211.cfm

Photo Credits: sjdunphy, Will Clayton via Creative Commons;

Toward the end of his life, Albert Einstein removed from his wall the portraits of two famous scientists, Isaac Newton and James Maxwell. In their place, he hungpictures of Mahatma Gandhi and the medical missionary, Albert Schweitzer. When asked why he did this, Einstein explained that it was time to replace the image of success with the image of service.

This is precisely what Jesus tried to do for his disciples in today’s gospel. The disciples were preoccupied with success. That’s why they argued about who was the greatest. But Jesus challenged their attitude by placing a child in the midst. To serve a child, you see, could in no way bring them any worldly success. But it would make them great in the kingdom of God.

Like the disciples, our culture today often seems more concerned with success than it does with service. We see this attitude whenever children are perceived as obstacles to lifestyles and careers; it’s seen in crumbling relationships where people are focused only on their own needs; it’s seen whenever the workplace becomes a “dog eat dog” rat race; it’s seen whenever people do things simply to enhance their resume or college application; and it’s seen in the church whenever worship and prayer take a backseat to meetings, quotas, and agendas.

This may be the world’s way, but it is not our way. Jesus calls each one of us today to lives of service, and not the pursuit of success. As his disciples, we’re to be concerned not with self-promotion, but self-donation- with giving of ourselves for the benefit of others. Just as Jesus did for us on the cross; just as he does for us in this Eucharist.

As I watched a young boy play a popular video game, I was surprised at how many times his character could be killed and come back to life. He’d fall into a fiery pit,get chomped by alligators, and be crushed by a boulder, but it didn’t seem to matter. It fact, the boy thought it funny to make these things happen to his character! He explained that although his character might lose points, it couldn’t really be killed, no matter what he did. Another adult with me said, half in jest but half seriously too: “What is this teaching our kids?” She was worried that perhaps they’re being taught that actions don’t have consequences.

That actions do have consequences is a primary point of today’s first reading, from Ezekiel. Simply put: Sin is punished and virtue is rewarded, and it’s up to us to choose between them. Evidently people back then needed to be reminded of this. But perhaps we need reminding too. These days we place a great deal of emphasis on God’s mercy. As well we should, because God is merciful!  But there’s a danger that emphasizing God’s mercy can lead us to take it for granted, something the Church has traditionally referred to as the sin of “presumption.” When we presume upon God’s mercy, we figure we can do whatever we want, and it just won’t make a difference what we do. Kind of like the character in the video game. We think: God is so forgiving, that at the end of the day it doesn’t really matter what we do.

But what we do does matter to God. Consider today’s gospel story. Jesus told a parable of two sons. One said initially that he would do his father’s will, but then didn’t do it, while the other son said at first that he wouldn’t obey, but then changed his mind and did. When he explained this parable’s meaning, Jesus raised a few eyebrows, because he said that “tax collectors and prostitutes”- the obvious public sinners of the day- were entering the kingdom of God before the chief priests and elders, who considered themselves to be decent religious people. The former heard God’s call to change their ways, while the others did not, as they thought there was nothing to change. They were presumptuous.

Most of us, I imagine, probably consider ourselves to be decent religious people. That’s why we need to listen to Jesus words today, because they’re directed at us. It’s easy for us to look down upon the “tax collectors and prostitutes” of our day and think: “Boy are their lives a mess!” We compare ourselves to them and conclude that, all things considered, our lives are pretty much in order. And maybe they are. But we need to be careful, because it’s easy when we think this way to fall into presumption and conclude that since we’re fundamentally good people, it doesn’t really matter what we do, because God is so good and forgiving. Like the chief priests and elders in today’s gospel, we become deaf to God’s call to continued conversion.

In all fairness, it’s sometimes easier for the “tax collectors and prostitutes” of the world to hear that call. It can become very obvious to those stuck in serious sin that something’s not right with their lives- especially if they hit rock bottom and realize there’s nowhere else to turn but to God!

With us, we may not feel such a need for conversion. In fact, we may actually feel rather good about ourselves. One of the myths of modern pop psychology is that feeling good about one’s self is a sign of health. But that’s not always the case. It seems that that’s how the religious people in today’s gospel were feeling. That’s why they were so shocked and angry when Jesus suggested that they weren’t as close to God’s kingdom as they thought they were.

The truth is, as taught by the saints down through the ages, that that the closer we get to God, the more aware we become of our own sinfulness, and our distance from God. This means that if we aren’t aware of our sinfulness, we might not be as holy as we think we are. In today’s responsorial psalm, the author recalled his sins and cried: “Remember your mercies, O Lord.” Today, maybe God is saying to us: “Remember my mercies, O my people.”

Now, this isn’t meant to make us hate ourselves or become discouraged. Instead, God is calling us to action, repentance, and continued conversion. God doesn’t want us to be lulled into complacency and presume upon his mercy. Instead, he wants us to accept our need for change.

To do this, there are three things we might do. First, we can consult a good examination of conscience and use it regularly. This will help us become more aware of areas of sinfulness in our lives that we may have been overlooking, or never were aware of in the first place.  Second, we can ask others to help us. As the sixth century spiritual writer St. John Climacus once observed, “God has arranged so that no one can see his own faults as clearly as his neighbor does.” Third, we can ask God to help us, because God knows us better than we know ourselves. We can pray to God: “Show me where I need to grow. Reveal to me what I need to change. Help me to see myself as you see me!”

And what does God see? Yes, he sees sin and brokenness. He sees someone who needed redeeming, and who needs guidance and grace. But more than this, he sees someone he loves. Someone for whom he has plans. Someone he created to become a saint. Someone with whom we wants to spend all eternity. God is indeed merciful! And he wants us to receive his mercy. Just not take it for granted.

Readings for today’s Mass: http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/092511.cfm

Photo Credits: Oakley Originals, ella novak, Cea., via Creative Commons