Author: Fr. Scott Hurd

An old joke asks: Why did Moses and the Israelites wander in the wilderness for 40 years? Because they didn’t ask for directions!

We’re on a journey too – not of 40 years, but 40 days of Lent – and proper direction is just as important for us. Consider today’s gospel: Jesus invites us to carry crosses. Those crosses are the suffering that enters every human life. Jesus stresses, however, that when we bear a cross, we’re to “follow him.” That’s our proper direction.

If we take off in a different direction, and follow a path different than our Lord’s, we’ll wind up exhausted, resentful, and alone. Chances are we won’t get very far, because our cross will become too heavy to bear.

But when we do follow Jesus, we’ll be given the courage we need to carry on, and a strength that can only come as God’s gift. We’ll have the consolation of seeing Jesus’ footsteps before us, or even planted right alongside ours. Because if there’s one thing his own cross can teach us, it’s that Jesus doesn’t want us to carry our crosses alone.

Readings for today’s Mass: http://www.usccb.org/nab/031011.shtml

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Public relations are very important in our culture, aren’t they? Great value is placed upon how we’re seen and perceived by others, and we’re very concerned about doing things that will get us noticed, appreciated, and admired. This is true even for matters of faith and religion.

That’s why Jesus’ words in the gospel today can be so challenging. He told us that we should be on our guard against performing religious acts for others to see. Our left hand must not know what our right hand is doing; we’re to pray in private behind closed doors; and our appearance shouldn’t reveal that we’re fasting.

Jesus knows that we often bring mixed motives to our religious undertakings. Some of our motivations- the ones inspired by God- are noble and good. Things like wanting to serve others, meet their needs, alleviate their suffering, grow closer to God, and do penance for our sins.

But sometimes we have other motives that aren’t as laudable. We may do religious things because we hope others will see us as holy or be grateful to us for the kind things we’ve done.

When we act in this way, we’re seeking to glorify ourselves- and there’s the catch. Because as Christians, all we do, in one way or another, should be done for the glory of God. As we journey through the 40 days of Lent, let’s always examine our motives, and ask the Lord to purify them, so that what we do is not driven by concern for public relations, but by a spirit of private praise.

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During a big religious festival, a seventeenth century Portuguese shepherd and soldier, heard a homily which convinced him of his need to repent. For months afterwards he wandered the streets, beating his breasts and screaming for mercy, until he was thrown into an insane asylum.

Blessed John of Avila, who preached the homily, visited St. John of God and insisted that instead of punishing himself for his past, it was better to try and build a better future. The repentant man did exactly that, through loving service to the sick and poor as a friar. He know him today as St. John of God.

As we celebrate his memorial today, St. John of God’s story is good to reflect upon as we move toward Lent, a season of renewal and penance. Penance shouldn’t be about beating up ourselves for past sins. Instead, it should be about building up ourselves into saints. In short: Do good, instead of feeling bad.

Readings for today’s Mass: http://www.usccb.org/nab/030811.shtml

Photo credit: Sarah Korf via Creative Commons

One long-suffering landlord tells of having to evict tenants who refused to pay their rent, in spite of repeated calls and personal visits. Before they left, however, the tenants trashed the house: The front door was shattered; the drains were clogged with paraffin; the electric system was intentionally shorted out; beer bottles were used to smash the windows; all the appliances were sold; the carpet was ruined with bleach; battery acid was poured on the floor tiles; and the walls were spray painted and hacked with a knife.

The parable Jesus told in today’s gospel includes a landlord horror story. These tenants, however, didn’t simply refuse to pay the rent. The beat and killed those whom the landlord sent to collect it- including the landlord’s son. These tenants weren’t just vandals and deadbeats. They were murderers!

Jesus told this parable as a challenge and a warning to certain religious leaders of his day: They were the tenants in the story; the landowner is God the Father; the son is Jesus himself; and the vineyard represents the people of God.

But in a sense, we can understand this parable as being a challenge to us too. Just as the religious leaders in question had been given stewardship of God’s people, we too have been given stewardship, or responsibility, for the things of God- people, property, talents, opportunities, and time. Indeed, all of creation is ultimately God’s, and nothing takes place in it unless he allows it to happen. As Christians, even our own lives are not our own. “A Christian is not his own master,” wrote St. Ignatius of Antioch, “since all his time belongs to God.” In all things, we are simply custodians.

You and I have been entrusted with great gifts, for which one day we must render an account. We have a generous and patient landlord; may we be faithful and responsible tenants.

Reading for today’s Mass: http://www.usccb.org/nab/030711.shtml

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Some two hundred years ago, a Cherokee Indian named Drowning Bear allowed a missionary to read to him several chapters of the Bible. After having listened for some time, Drowning Bear said to the missionary: “It seems to be a good book; strange that the white people are not better after having had it for so long.”

Drowning Bear’s implication was that if we actually lived in obedience to the Word of God, our lives would be dramatically better as a result. This was precisely our Lord’s point in today’s gospel. Jesus invites us not only to hear his Word; he wants us also to act on it. To put it another way, God’s Word was spoken not simply for our information. Instead, it’s meant for our application, that our lives might be blessed with transformation.

For this to happen, however, we first need to listen. We can’t act on God’s Word if we can’t hear it! Unfortunately, listening isn’t something we’re always good at doing. In an old joke, a crabby husband asks his wife, “Why do women talk so much?” To which his rightfully annoyed wife replied: “Because we have to say everything twice!” The joke’s point is that we don’t always listen very well to each other. Sometimes we also don’t listen very well to God- and there’s nothing too funny about that

It might be that we’re too distracted to listen to God. When the “Word of the Lord” is proclaimed for us, our expected response is “Thanks be to God.” If we were honest, however, we probably should say, “Huh? Could you say that again?” One contributing factor is “information overload.” Through every conceivable form of media – electronic and otherwise- we’re bombarded with more data than we’re able to handle. It can shatter our attention spans and make us very reluctant to add any additional voices to the mix- even if it’s God’s.

Another reason we don’t listen well to God’s Word is that it gets drowned out by “cultural static.” It’s easy to understand why this happens. The world literally shouts at us – “Look at me! Buy me! Sleep with me!”- and we can’t seem to hear anything else- especially God, who typically speaks in whispers. And the same world that shouts at us insists that we join the rat race. We wind up so exhausted that making time for God’s Word seems like a luxury, something to put off for a day when we’re less stressed. It’s not that we’ve pushed God’s Word away; it’s simply been squeezed out.

But sometimes we do push God’s Word away, because we don’t want to hear it. We’re afraid of what we might be told and what changes God will call us to make in our lives. Maybe it’s about money. Or forgiveness. Or our relationships. Or sex. Perhaps we’re too proud, too angry, or too addicted to listen. Whatever it may be, we know that with knowledge comes responsibility, so we try to take the “ignorance is bliss” approach. When we do this, it’s not society or our schedules that’s interfering with the Word of God. We have only ourselves to blame, because we’ve stuck our fingers in our ears.

We only plug our ears, however, when we think that God’s Word might have something valid to say to us. At times, we think just the opposite. We don’t make ourselves deaf to God’s Word; we simply dismiss it, because we’re convinced that it has nothing to say to us, or that it’s too confusing or old-fashioned to bother with. Should this be the case, we’re in good company. St. Augustine, a great figure from the Church’s first centuries, once felt exactly the same way. As a young man, he read the Bible in his quest for truth, but found himself disappointed. He didn’t encounter the lofty philosophy he preferred to read, but accounts of violent conflict and very imperfect people that left him confused.

All that changed when Augustine met St. Ambrose, whose preaching helped him understand the Bible for what it is: An inspired account of God’s unfolding plan throughout history, all leading to Jesus. Augustine came to appreciate that not only is Jesus the key to understanding the Bible, but that Jesus himself is heard through the Bible. The Bible is the Word of God- because through it we hear the voice of Jesus, who is the Word of God: the Word-made-flesh.

It is this voice that today’s Scriptures challenge us to listen to, and act upon, today. In our noisy world, we can be deaf to God’s Word. In our selfish world, it’s tempting to resist God’s Word. In our skeptical world, it’s fashionable to dismiss God’s Word. In our overscheduled world, it’s easy to neglect God’s Word. Yet we neglect God’s Word at our peril. Life can be hard, challenging, painful, confusing. Maybe that’s why Jesus spoke of powerful winds and rain in his parable, because they describe what we feel like we’re contending with at times. Jesus’ point was that if we build our life upon his Word, we’ll have the strength and resources to withstand the flood waters when they rise. And if we don’t, we won’t, and we risk being swept away by the currents.

To build our lives upon God’s Word is like building our house on rock, as Jesus said. Think of Manhattan, if you will: Perhaps the greatest concentration of brick, mortar, steel and timber anywhere in the world. And all of it rests upon a huge mass of rock. Anything else couldn’t bear the weight. That’s true of our lives, too. Sometimes we have a heavy load to bear; it can seem like we have the weight of the world upon our shoulders! We can bear the strain…but only if our life’s foundation is the rock of the Word of God.

Drowning Bear was right: God’s Word is good, and we have indeed had it a long time. But it’s up to us to listen, act, and allow ourselves to be changed.

Readings for today’s Mass: http://www.usccb.org/nab/030611.shtml
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Two men walking approached a standing ladder. One passed right under it. His companion, however, gave it a wide birth. “You don’t believe that old superstition, do you?” asked the first man. “Not really,” the other answered, “but I don’t want to take any chances- just in case.”

Sometimes we approach prayer the way the second man approached the ladder. We don’t really think it’s going to make a difference, but we go ahead and do it – just in case.

That’s how Peter thought in today’s gospel, when he expressed amazement that a fig tree Jesus cursed had withered. Jesus used this moment to teach us that we shouldn’t be surprised or shocked when our prayers make a difference. Prayer isn’t like wishing upon a star or tossing a coin down a well. Instead, our prayers are offered to a living God who listens, cares, and who always answers in the way that’s best for us. Prayer changes things, and we should always have faith that it does.

We don’t want to be like the crowd who gathered during a drought to pray for rain. The priest sent them home, insisting it wouldn’t rain that day. “Why not?” they demanded. “Because none of you brought an umbrella.”

Readings for today’s Mass: http://www.usccb.org/nab/030411.shtml

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After losing an important battle, King Louis XIV of France complained, “Has God forgotten how much I’ve done for him?” That’s a deeply arrogant statement! But let’s not cast any stones. It’s easy to conclude that God owes us something.

That’s what James and John did in yesterday’s gospel. Because they were disciples, they assumed they were entitled to special favors, and approached Jesus with a demand: “We want you to do for us whatever we ask of you.”

In today’s gospel, Bartimaeus also approached Jesus. But he didn’t make any demands. Instead, he offered a humble plea: “Jesus, Son of David, have pity on me.”

These two different approaches were met with two different responses from Jesus. James and John’s request was denied, and Jesus actually took them down a notch. But Bartimaeus’ prayer was granted. His sight was restored, and he was praised for his faith.

Maybe it’s significant that Bartimaeus is described as a beggar. As St. Augustine wrote, “Man is a beggar before God,” because it’s as a beggar that we should approach God in prayer. If our prayer is “Give me what I deserve,” we’ll likely wind up disappointed. But if we pray, “O Lord, please give me what I need,” we’ll find, like Bartimaeus, that God always does.

Readings for today’s Mass: http://www.usccb.org/nab/030311.shtml

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