Just a Little Talk with Jesus Makes It Right – A Homily for the Third Sunday of Lent

As we examine the Gospel for this weekend’s Mass we do well to understand that is about human desires and how the Lord reaches us through them. Prior to examining the text in detail, let’s consider a few things:

  1. What it is that really makes you happy? We desire so many things: food, water, shelter, clothing, and creature comforts. We long for affection, peace, and a sense of belonging. Sometimes we want stability and simplicity, at others we yearn for change and variety. Our hearts are a sea of desires, wishes, and longings. Today’s Gospel says that a woman went to the well to draw water. She represents each one of us and her desire for water is symbolic of all our desires.
  2. In reality, your desires are infinite. Can you remember a time when you were ever entirely satisfied, when you wanted absolutely nothing else? Even if you can recall such a time, I’ll bet it didn’t last long. That is because our desires are without limit.
  3. The well in today’s Gospel symbolizes this world. Jesus says to the woman, Everyone who drinks of this water will thirst again. The world cannot provide what we are really looking for. No matter how much it offers us, it will never suffice, for the world is finite while our desires are infinite. In this way our heart teaches us something very important about ourselves: We were not made for this world; we were made for something, someone, who is infinite, who alone can satisfy us. We were made for God.
  4. The water offered is the Holy Spirit. Jesus said elsewhere, “If any one thirst, let him come to me and drink. He who believes in me, as the scripture has said, ‘Out of his heart shall flow rivers of living water.’” Now this he said about the Spirit, which those who believed in him were to receive (Jn. 7:37-39).
  5. The Catechism of the Catholic Church has this to say about the meanings of our longings:

The desire for God is written in the human heart, because man is created by God and for God; and God never ceases to draw man to himself. Only in God will he find the truth and happiness he never stops searching for. … With his longings for the infinite and for happiness, man questions himself about God’s existence. In all this he discerns signs of his spiritual soul. The soul, the seed of eternity we bear in ourselves, irreducible to the merely material, can have its origin only in God (Catechism # 27, 33).

  1. Scripture speaks to us about our desires: Of You my heart has spoken: “Seek His face.” It is your face O Lord that I seek; hide not your face! (Psalm 27:8-9). Only in God will my soul be at rest, he is my hope, my salvation (Psalm 62:1).
  2. Augustine wrote these classic words to describe our truest longing: “Thou hast made us for Thyself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless till they rest in Thee” (Confessions 1,1).

With these in mind, let’s look at the journey that this woman makes to Jesus. Things start out rough, but in the end she discovers her heart’s truest desire. The journey is made in stages.

Rendezvous – Notice that Jesus is the one who takes the initiative here. As the Lord teaches elsewhere, It was not you who chose me, It was I who chose you (John 15:16). Jesus encounters a woman from Samaria at Jacob’s well. She desires water, but Jesus knows that her desire is for far more than water or in fact anything that the world gives. Her desire has brought her face to face with Jesus. It is a holy and fortunate rendezvous. Jesus begins a discussion with her about her heart’s truest longing.

Request – The discussion begins with a request. The text says, It was about noon. A woman of Samaria came to draw water. Jesus said to her, “Give me a drink.” Imagine, God asking you for anything; what a stunning thing! What can she or anyone really give God? The answer is simply this: the gift of our very self. God has put a threshold before our heart that even He will not cross unless we first say yes to Him. Jesus’ request initiates a discussion, a dialogue of two hearts. As we shall see, the woman struggles with this dialogue. To be sure, it is a delicate, even painful process for us to accept the Lord’s invitation to self-giving. Something within us makes us draw back in fear. Scripture says, It is an awesome thing to fall into the hands of living God (Heb 10:31).

Rebuke – Sure enough, she draws back with fear and anger. She says, “How can you, a Jew, ask me, a Samaritan woman, for a drink?”—For Jews use nothing in common with Samaritans. In our journey to God, we do not always trust or understand Him at first. Some are afraid to relate to God because they think they will lose their freedom or that they will have to change too much. Others loathe the commandments or fear that they cannot keep them. Still others are angry at the unexpected twists and turns of life and do not want to trust a God who doesn’t always give them what they want. The woman’s anger is not really at Jesus; it is at “the Jews,” with whom the Samaritans have a hostile relationship. This is sometimes the case with God as well. It is not always the Lord Jesus, or God the Father, whom people hate or distrust; rather, it is Christians. Some have been hurt by the Church or by Christians; others have prejudiced opinions influenced by a hostile media and world.

Repetition – Jesus repeats His offer for a relationship. He says, “If you knew the gift of God and who is saying to you, ‘Give me a drink,’ you would have asked him and he would have given you living water.” I don’t know about you, but I am mighty glad that the Lord does not merely write us off when we say no to Him. Jesus stays in the conversation and even sweetens the deal by making an offer to give her fresh, living water. The Lord does the same for us. First He gave the Law, then He gave the prophets; now He gives His Son. It just keeps getting better. First He gave water, then He changed it to wine, and then He changed it to His blood. Despite our often harsh rejection of God, He keeps the dialogue going.

Ridicule – The woman is still hostile and now even ridicules Jesus: “Sir, you do not even have a bucket and the cistern is deep; where then can you get this living water? Are you greater than our father Jacob, who gave us this cistern and drank from it himself with his children and his flocks?” To the world, the teachings of God often appear to be foolishness. People often dismiss religious faith as fanciful and unrealistic.

Reminder – Jesus now re-frames the question by reminding the woman of the obvious: Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again. What she is relying on can’t come through for her. The world’s water does not satisfy us; the world’s delights are transitory. They promise ultimate satisfaction, but soon we are thirsty again. The world is the gift that keeps on taking; it takes our money, loyalty, freedom, and time, while giving us only temporary—and ultimately unsatisfying pleasures—in return. It’s a bad deal. Every one who drinks from this well be thirsty again.

Re-upping the offer – Jesus says, “… but whoever drinks the water I shall give will never thirst; the water I shall give will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.” Here the Lord speaks of happiness and satisfaction that he will give, that grows in us and makes us more and more alive. The “water” he offers (as noted above) is the gift of the Holy Spirit. As the Holy Spirit lives in us and transforms us, we become more and more content with what we have. As the life of God grows in us, we become more alive in God and joyful in what He is doing for us. This is what the Lord offers us: the gift of a new and transformed life, the gift to become fully alive in God. I am a witness of this. How about you?

Result – The woman has moved toward Jesus; she has warmed to His offer. She says, “Sir, give me this water, so that I may not be thirsty or have to keep coming here to draw water.” Here is the result of the Lord’s persistence. Thank God that He does not give up on us. He keeps calling, even when we say no, even when we sin; He just keeps call our name!

Requirement – Jesus wants to give this gift, but first He must help her to make room for it. For the truth is that she has unrepented sin. A cup that is filled with sand cannot be filled with water. The sand must first be emptied out and then the cup cleansed. Thus Jesus says, “Go call your husband and come back.” The woman answered and said to him, “I do not have a husband.” Jesus answered her, “You are right in saying, ‘I do not have a husband.’ For you have had five husbands, and the one you have now is not your husband. What you have said is true.” Now she does what most of us do when we are in an uncomfortable spot: she changes the subject. She attempts to engage in a discussion about where to worship. Jesus is patient and answers her, but ultimately draws her back to the subject at hand: her heart and what her desires are really all about.

Reconciliation – At this point the conversation gets private; we are not permitted to listen in. It is just between her and Jesus. But whatever it was, she is elated and will later declare, “He told me everything I ever did.” There is no sense in her tone that Jesus was merely accusatory. Rather, it would seem that Jesus helped her to understand her heart and her struggle. An old song says, “I once was lost in sin but Jesus took me in and then a little light from heaven filled my soul. He bathed my heart in love and he wrote my name above and just a little talk with Jesus made me whole.” Here, Jesus reconciles her with God and with her own self.

RejoicingThe woman left her water jar and went into the town and said to the people, “Come see a man who told me everything I have done. Could he possibly be the Christ?” They went out of the town and came to him.” Do not miss that little detail: she left her water jar. She left behind the very thing she was depending on to collect the things of the world. What is your “water jar”? What do you use to gain access to the world and to collect its offerings? For most of us, it is money. Scripture says, For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil. Some people, eager for money, have wandered from the faith and pierced themselves with many griefs (1 Tim 6:10). At any rate, the woman is joyfully empowered to leave this enslaving water jar behind. Freed from its load, she is able to run to town and declare Jesus to others. Her joy must have been infectious, for soon enough they are following her out to meet the Lord!

This is the journey of a woman who represents each one of us. This is our journey, out of dependence, out of an enslaving attachment to the world. It is our journey unto Jesus, who alone can set us free. Here is our journey to understand that our desires are ultimately about God.

You can listen to this homily here: Just a Little Talk With Jesus.

I have it on the best of authority that as the woman joyfully journeyed back to town, she was singing this gospel song:

Why Did Jesus Die in His Thirties?

Why did Christ die in his early thirties rather than as an older man? This would have permitted Him more time to teach and to set forth His Church. St. Thomas Aquinas answered the question in the following way:

Christ willed to suffer while yet young, for three reasons. First of all, to commend the more His love by giving up His life for us when He was in His most perfect state of life. Secondly, because it was not becoming for Him to show any decay of nature nor to be subject to disease …. Thirdly, that by dying and rising at an early age Christ might exhibit beforehand in His own person the future condition of those who rise again. Hence it is written (Ephesians 4:13), “Until we all meet into the unity of faith, and of the knowledge of the Son of God, unto a perfect man, unto the measure of the age of the fullness of Christ” (Summa Theologica III, 46, 9 ad 4).

Speculations such as these strike some as purely arbitrary. Others consider the reasoning to be a post hoc justification: Christ died at the age of 33, so let’s make something up to try to explain it.

St. Thomas’ reasoning, however, is not based on wild speculation. There are premises to his reasoning.

First, there is the premise that God does nothing arbitrarily and we do well to allow even seemingly minor details in Scripture (e.g., the time of day) to teach us.

Another premise is based on the nature of perfection. Perfection can be harmed by either excess or defect. Consider the case of age: A young person may lack physical and intellectual maturity (youth being a “defect” in age), but there comes a time when age becomes problematic in the other direction as time takes its toll on the body and the mind becomes less sharp (old age being an “excess” in age). Thus, there is a period of time when one’s age is in the “perfect” range: harmed neither by excess nor defect.

In St. Thomas’ time one’s thirties was considered to be that time of perfection. This is arguably still so, though we do seem to take a lot longer to reach intellectual and emotional maturity these days.

St. Thomas notes that because Jesus died while in the prime of His life, the sacrifice was greater. His apparent lack of any disease or physical imperfections also increased His sacrifice. This is a model for us. We are to give the best of what we have to God in sacrifice; not merely our cast-offs, or things of which we might say, “This will do.” The Lord once lamented, through Malachi,

If I am a Father, then where is my honor? When you offer blind animals in sacrifice, is that not evil? And when you offer those that are lame or sick, is that not evil? Present that to your governor; will he accept you or show you favor? says the Lord of hosts (Mal 1:8).

And thus what might seem to some to be an unremarkable detail (Jesus’ age) actually provides important teachings to the sensitive soul. Christ gave His all, His best—and He did so when He was in the prime of His life. We too are summoned to increasing perfection

Three Teachings on Temptation

Sunday’s Gospel about the temptation of Jesus in the desert by Satan evokes several questions. The answers I propose are not intended to be a theological treatise, but rather a pastoral reflection.

I. Why does God permit temptation? God does not permit any evil or problem unless it can serve some greater good. In the case of temptation, He permits it because it summons us to love Him while giving us the freedom to reject or accept that call. God seeks sons and daughters who can love Him freely.

Of God’s creatures, only angels and humans possess free will. We are summoned to love, but love requires the freedom to make choices. In giving us freedom, God permits alternatives to saying “yes” to Him. These alternatives present themselves as temptations.

Temptation existed even in Eden, in paradise; and prior to that, the angels had a sweeping choice for or against God. Scripture hints that one third of them fell to the earth and are what now called demons (see Rev 12:4). Our “yes” to God must be very precious indeed, because in granting this freedom He permits that some, indeed many, choose to reject Him.

A second reason God permits temptation is that it tests and strengthens us. An old saying reminds us, “Things do by opposition grow.” Temptation is a kind of opposition we must learn to endure. In enduring, though, we become stronger. The spiritual life is like the physical life in that we grow stronger through repeated action. After lifting weights repeatedly, our physical strength increases and we can overcome increasingly more difficult physical challenges. It is the same with the spiritual life. An old gospel song says, “Yield not to temptation, for yielding is sin. Each victory will help you, some other to win.” Scripture says, Resist the devil and he will flee (James 4:7). Resisting implies ongoing effort, standing up to the devil repeatedly. It’s not a one-time battle, but an ongoing war in which each small victory makes us stronger and the devil more discouraged. As we grow stronger, the devil eventually stops wasting his time tempting us in certain areas. At times the battle may weary us, but in the long run, it strengthens us. Jesus illustrates this in his three-fold battle with Satan in the desert.

II. What are the sources of temptation? There is a tendency to attribute temptation and struggles to the devil, but tradition speaks to two additional sources: the world and the flesh. (Note that the flesh is not merely our body; it is a term that describes our rebellious tendency to sin and be prideful.) Scripture affirms these different sources, for not only are there passages in which the devil directly tempts (e.g., Adam and Eve in the Garden, Jesus in the desert), but there are ones that speak to the temptations of the world and the flesh: For all that is in the world—the desires of the flesh and the desires of the eyes and pride of life—is not from the Father but is from the world (1 John 2:16).

Frankly, many people do not need direct demonic temptation; they do a pretty good job of exposing themselves to temptation by indulging the flesh and embracing the world. The devil can pretty much leave them alone and monitor their self-destruction from a distance.

This is one reason those striving to convert and return to the Lord are often the target of demonic attacks. As long as they were traveling on the road to destruction and Hell, they barely noticed the devil, because he was walking right behind them. When they began to turn around, though, they ran right into him. While the devil can and does manipulate and influence both the flesh and the world, we do better to look first to these two sources before ascribing temptations directly to the devil himself.

The influence of the flesh and the world are more under our control and thus should be the main focus of our battle. We do well to limit our exposure to the world and to spend more time with heavenly influences such as Scripture, the liturgy, prayer, and healthy, godly relationships. We should also focus more attention on self-mastery, through frequent confession, practicing virtue, and keeping careful custody of our mind and heart. Thus we see that Jesus is in the desert engaged in deep prayer, mortifying the flesh, and stepping away from the world.

III. What is the chief weapon Jesus uses in refusing temptation and how can it help us? Temptation is ultimately about influence and the battlefield is the mind. In the story of Jesus’ temptations, he answers every sinful suggestion by the devil with Scripture.

  1. It is written: One does not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes forth from the mouth of God.
  2. Again it is written: You shall not put the Lord, your God, to the test.
  3. It is written: The Lord, your God, shall you worship and him alone shall you serve.

To every foolish and sinful thought Jesus replies, “It is written …”

Because the battle in temptation is about influence, the following question arises: What most influences you: the world, the flesh, the devil, or God?

We must actively seek to be influenced by God, by godly thoughts and godly truth.

There is an old saying, “Sin makes you stupid.” And indeed it does. Sin darkens our intellect and leads us to make convoluted justifications and rationalizations of attitudes and behaviors that any child can see are wrong and defy common sense. St. Paul describes sin-induced stupidity when writing about the people of his time who suppressed the truth about God; claiming to be wise, they became fools, and their senseless minds were darkened (see Rom 1:18-22). He also advises us, Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect (Rom 12:2). Nothing can so renew our minds as the very Word of God. By it we are called to see and judge all other things.

Thus, an essential antidote to temptation is to be deeply rooted in the truth of God. This does not mean merely mechanically quoting verses during an argument. Rather, it means being transformed by God’s Word and watching how it performs in our life. I have been reading Scripture every day for the last thirty years. The Word of God has changed me and has been instrumental (along with sacraments, prayer, and godly fellowship) in putting down sin and resisting the temptations that precede it. Some things that used to tempt me no longer do; other temptations that were once strong are now weaker. Still other temptations remain, but the battle is engaged! Jesus is right: the Faith and the Word of God are a strong shield to protect against the fiery darts of the world, the flesh, and the devil.

Temptation is an ongoing battle for all of us until the day we die. All the more reason to permit the Lord to teach us its causes, the way it operates, and the ways to resist it.

The Truer Purpose of Fasting

There is an interesting passage in Isaiah, in which God turns the tables on us and reminds us of the truer purpose of fasting. The key verses come in Isaiah 58, but in order to see them in context, let’s first consider the whole passage.

Thus says the Lord GOD: Cry out full-throated and unsparingly, lift up your voice like a trumpet blast; Tell my people their wickedness, and the house of Jacob their sins. They seek me day after day, and desire to know my ways, like a nation that has done what is just and not abandoned the law of their God; They ask me to declare what is due them, pleased to gain access to God. Why do we fast, and you do not see it? Afflict ourselves, and you take no note of it?

Lo, on your fast day you carry out your own pursuits, and drive all your laborers. Yes, your fast ends in quarreling and fighting, striking with wicked claw. Would that today you might fast so as to make your voice heard on high! Is this the manner of fasting I wish, of keeping a day of penance: That a man bow his head like a reed and lie in sackcloth and ashes? Do you call this a fast, a day acceptable to the LORD? This, rather, is the fasting that I wish: releasing those bound unjustly, untying the thongs of the yoke; Setting free the oppressed, breaking every yoke; Sharing your bread with the hungry, sheltering the oppressed and the homeless; Clothing the naked when you see them, and not turning your back on your own. Then your light shall break forth like the dawn, and your wound shall quickly be healed; Your vindication shall go before you, and the glory of the LORD shall be your rear guard. Then you shall call, and the LORD will answer, you shall cry for help, and he will say: Here I am! (Is 58:1-9)

At the heart of this passage is the essential complaint of God’s people: Why do we fast, and you do not see it? Afflict ourselves, and you take no note of it? In other words, why aren’t you listening to us? We’re praying, fasting, and abstaining, but we’re not getting what we ask!

God is not deaf; neither is He blind. He is not unware of what is being asked and sought. The purpose of fasting and other such mortifications is not to get God’s attention; He hears us just fine. Rather, the purpose is to get us to hear and better understand what God seeks of us. Fasting is meant to help us to pay better attention to God. Its goal is to make room for God in our busy lives.

God continues on to teach the ancient Jews and us that there is absolutely no problem with his hearing, but rather with ours. He says to them, in effect (paraphrasing His remarks from above),

Listen, you come to me as if you are just and have carefully followed my ways but it doesn’t seem as if you’ve heard a word I’ve said. There is wickedness, quarrelling, fighting, and selfish ambition among you. There is injustice and neglect of the poor and needy. You claim to be seeking my ways, but I have already told them to you repeatedly. Are you deaf? You know what I have told you. But you do not do it.

True fasting will open the ears of your memory and draw forth obedience from your hearts. I am not deaf, such that fasting will suddenly make me hear you. No, fasting does not make me hear; it helps you to hear.

So listen to what I have been teaching you. May your fasting help you to hear. May it soften your hearts to say ‘yes,’ limber your stiffened necks to obey. Fasting is for you, not for me.

The truest answer to your many prayers is already contained in what I have taught you to do. If you listen and obey it, light shall break forth for you. Your many wounds will be healed and you will experience victories over enemies and over every temptation.

If you would just listen, you would see that the answer to your prayers is already among you. Allow fasting to help you to see and hear and know that I have already answered you. Fasting will unstop your hearts and obedience will release your blessings.

And so it is that God teaches us the truer purpose of fasting. It is not to get God to hear, but to get us to hear, listen, and obey.

Do not fast and abstain in order to be heard and to get God to do your will; do so in order to hear and better do God’s will.

Here is a performance of In Jejunio et fletu (In fasting and tears), written by English composer Thomas Tallis:

The Battle Theme of Lent

A brief observation of the first two days in Lent reveals militaristic, even violent imagery in the battle against sin and the unruly passions of the flesh. The Collect (opening prayer) of Ash Wednesday provides an image of troops mustering for battle:

Grant, O Lord, that we may begin with holy fasting
this campaign of Christian service,
so that, as we take up battle against spiritual evils,
we may be armed with weapons of self-restraint.
Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son,
who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, for ever and ever.

“Battle,” “weapons,” and “armed” all clearly have military connotations, but so does the phrase “campaign of Christian service” if we look at the Latin text: praesidia miltiae Christianae. The service or action (praesidia) is one of Christian battle or militancy (militiae). This refers to the Church Militant, waging war against sin and the kingdom of darkness.

Thus the opening prayer on Ash Wednesday announced and summoned us to a battle that is engaged by the Church with special intensity during Lent.

The Gospel for Thursday after Ash Wednesday also has a battle theme. Jesus says,

If anyone wishes to come after me, he must deny himself
and take up his cross daily and follow me.
For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it,
but whoever loses his life for my sake will save it
(Luke 9:23-25).

The battle theme is particularly apparent if one looks at the Greek text. The word translated as “lose” in English does not capture the vigor of the Greek word ἀπόλλυμι (apollumi). Apollumi means more literally, I kill, destroy, I lose, I am perishing. It is from the Greek apó, meaning away from, with the intensifier ollymi, “to destroy.” Thus apollumi means to fully destroy, cutting off entirely. It implies permanent or absolute destruction.

So when Jesus says we must “lose” our life, it is really far stronger than the English translation captures. Losing our life involves a kind of violent overthrow of our worldly notions and the deep drives of sin. We must lose, that is, see utterly destroyed and cut off, all things worldly, fleshly, and of the devil. This is war, and it is going to involve more than a mumbled, half-hearted prayer on our part. Scripture says, In your struggle against sin, you have not yet resisted to the point of shedding your blood (Heb 12:4).

So behold the militaristic imagery as Lent begins. To arms!

The idea of such a battle might overwhelm us if we thought it must all be done in a day. Jesus says that we should take up our cross daily. Our daily cross is vital to our success. It’s not our weekly cross, or our monthly cross, or our yearly cross. We ought to do each day what we should do. If we put off or postpone the daily cross, the problem pile up. A monthly cross can seem overwhelming, and a yearly cross might seem impossible. Everyday discipline is crucial. Soon enough, the daily discipline becomes virtue; it becomes a good habit that one accomplishes fairly easily. To take up our cross daily is to endure short-term pain for long-term gain.

The battle is engaged! Fight it daily. Fight it with the Lord. Understand that it is battle, but in Jesus (and only in Jesus) the victory is won. Stay on the winning side and fight daily to the end.

Choices Have Consequences

The themes of early Lent are pretty basic. The ashes of Ash Wednesday announce the simple truth that we are going to die and subsequently face judgment. Hence we need to repent and come to believe the good news that only Jesus can save us.

The reading for Thursday after Ash Wednesday features Moses laying out the basic reality that all of us have a choice to make:

Today I have set before you
life and prosperity, death and doom …

I call heaven and earth today to witness against you:
I have set before you life and death,
the blessing and the curse (Dt 30:15, 20).

So there is our choice: life or death, prosperity or doom. There is a Latin expression, Tertium non datur (No third way is given). We often like to think that we can take some middle path, but in the matter of the last things, there is no middle path, no third way. Either we choose God and His kingdom, and then reflect that choice in all of our smaller decisions, or we do not.

To those who think that a middle path is possible, I would say that it is the way of compromise, ambivalence, and tepidity. Walking such a path demonstrates a lack of commitment and a refusal to witness to Christ. These are not virtues that belong to God’s Kingdom; they pertain more to the kingdom of darkness. Jesus says, Let what you say be simply ‘Yes’ or ‘No’; anything more than this comes from evil (Matt 5:37). He also says, No one can serve two masters. Either you will hate the one and love the other, or you will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and money (Matt 6:24).

So we are back to a choice: for the Kingdom of Light or for the kingdom of darkness; for the world and its ways, or for God and His ways. Do we choose to gratify the flesh or nourish the spirit, to serve Satan and his agenda or to serve Christ and follow His will and plan?

You are free to choose, but you’re not free not to choose. That is to say, you must choose. If you think that you can go on simply not choosing one or the other, I’ve got news for you: not choosing is choosing the kingdom of darkness.

Many do not directly choose Satan, but rather indirectly choose him by following his ways. We are asked to choose God directly, by accepting the gift of faith and basing our life on what the He commands. Faith is not some sort of “default position” we can have by accident. Faith is the supernaturally-assisted and transformed human decision for God and all that that choice implies. Faith is a gift freely offered and one that we must freely accept; it is a choice that will not be forced on us. Through our many daily choices, we are called to reaffirm, by grace, the choice we have made for God.

So again, life is about choices: the fundamental choice of faith and all the daily choices that either affirm or deny the reality of our faith.

We live in times in which people like to demand free choice, but also like to evade the responsibilities that come with making choices. Moses goes on in the reading today to describe the fact that the choice we make for or against God will have consequences:

If you obey the commandments of the LORD, your God,
which I enjoin on you today,
loving him, and walking in his ways,
and keeping his commandments, statutes and decrees,
you will live and grow numerous,
and the LORD, your God,
will bless you in the land you are entering to occupy.
If, however, you turn away your hearts and will not listen,
but are led astray and adore and serve other gods,
I tell you now that you will certainly perish;
you will not have a long life
on the land that you are crossing the Jordan to enter and occupy (Dt 30).

Yes, choices have consequences. Even small daily choices have the cumulative effect of moving us in one direction or the other, toward God or away.

Many small choices also have a way of forming our hearts. Deeds become habits; habits become character; character becomes destiny. These choices form our hearts, establish our character, and move us into one future or another.

While sudden and dramatic conversions are possible as long as we are still living, it is more common that our hearts become more fixed over time and our fundamental character becomes less and less likely to change. As we get older, it’s harder to change because that’s what choices do to us: they move us in a certain direction, down a certain path; and the further along that path we go, the less likely we are to turn back.

Therefore, daily choices are important. It is essential to examine our conscience regularly and make frequent use of the Sacrament of Confession. Each day we ought to ask the question, “Where am I going with my life?” If we go on for too long living an unreflective life, it is easy to find ourselves deeply locked in sinful habits that become harder and harder to break. Frequent reflection is necessary and we ought not to make light of small daily decisions.

We live in times in which it is often easy to insulate ourselves from the immediate consequences of the choices we make. Medicine, technology, and social safety nets are all good things in and of themselves, but they do tend to shield us from immediate consequences, and help to cultivate the illusion that consequences can be forever evaded. They cannot.

We also live in times in which, perhaps more than ever before, the community is willing to bear the burden of poor individual choices. Again, this is not in and of itself a bad thing, but it does become an enabler of bad behavior, and fosters the illusion that consequences can be avoided forever. They cannot.

Our own culture is currently struggling under the weight of a colossal number of poor individual choices, ones that have added up to a financial, spiritual, moral, and emotional debt that we cannot pay. Sexual misconduct, divorce, cohabitation, abortion, sexually transmitted diseases, the use of hallucinogenic and addictive drugs, the casting off of discipline and parental responsibility, the rejection of faith and ancient and tested wisdom, rebellion, silence in the face of sin and injustice, greed, consumerism, factions, envy, discord, and on and on … all of this is taking a tremendous toll. The consequences are mounting and it is becoming clear that even the most basic functions of society such as raising the next generation, preserving order and stability, and ensuring the common good are gravely threatened.

And what is true collectively is also true for us as individuals. Many poor choices in small matters quickly draw us into self-destructive patterns that get more and more deeply entrenched. Without regular reflection and the reminder of penitential seasons like Lent, it is easy to lose our way. St. Augustine noted this in his Confessions, in which he described himself as being bound,

“not by another’s irons, but by my own iron will. … For in truth, lust is made out of a perverse will, and when lust is served, it becomes habit, and when habit is not resisted, it becomes necessity” (Confessions 8.5.10).

Moses’ warnings are before us as never before.

In 1917, a beautiful and holy woman (Our Lady) appeared to three little children. She explained that the horrifying war (World War I) was finally coming to an end, but also warned that if people did not turn back to her Son Jesus and start praying, an even more devastating war would ensue; Russia would spread her errors and great disaster would befall the world. Do I need to tell you what happened? Any even casual assessment of the 20th century would find it hard to conclude that it was anything but satanic in terms of its wars, death rates through violence and abortion, and in its persecution of the Church.

Life or death, prosperity or doom; what will you choose?

Choices! Consequences!

And now from heavy to humorous:

Four Immediate Results of Jesus’ Death on the Cross

crossLet’s conclude our consideration of certain texts from the Passion Narratives with one that describes the aftermath of Jesus’ death. The Gospel of Matthew recounts four immediate results of Jesus’ death, and while they describe historical events, they also signal deeper spiritual truths.

And when Jesus had cried out again in a loud voice, he gave up his spirit. At that moment, the curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom. The earth shook, the rocks split, and the tombs broke open. The bodies of many holy people who had died were raised to life. They came out of the tombs after Jesus’ resurrection, went into the holy city, and appeared to many people. When the centurion and those with him who were guarding Jesus saw the earthquake and all that had happened, they were terrified, and exclaimed, “Surely he was the Son of God!” (Matt 27:50-53)

Let’s consider the four results described in this passage, each in turn.

I. Return At that moment, the curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom.

The significance of the tearing of the Temple curtain and the way in which it happened ought not to be underestimated. Consider that God had walked intimately with Adam and Eve in the garden in the cool of day (cf Gen 3:8), but that after sin, they could no longer endure His presence; they had to dwell apart from the paradise that featured God’s awesome presence. Consider, too, how terrifying theophanies (appearances of God to human beings) were after that time. For example, the appearance of God on the top of Mt Sinai is described in the Book of Exodus:

When the people saw the thunder and lightning and heard the trumpet and saw the mountain in smoke, they trembled with fear. They stayed at a distance and said to Moses, “Speak to us yourself and we will listen. But do not have God speak to us or we will die” (Ex 20:18-19).

Had God changed? Was He different from when He walked with Adam and Eve in intimacy? No. We had changed and could no longer endure the presence of God.

Throughout the Old Testament, a veil existed between God and Israel. There was the cloud that both revealed God’s presence and concealed it. There was also the curtain in the sanctuary, beyond which the High Priest could only venture once a year, and even then in fear and trembling.

Sin had done this. Mere human beings could no longer tolerate God’s presence.

But with His Death on the cross, Jesus has canceled our sin. We once again have access to God through Christ our Lord. His blood has cleansed us and the ancient separation from the Father and from God’s presence has been canceled. But we will not encounter God in a merely earthly paradise; He has now opened the way to Heaven.

It is now up to us to make the journey there, but the way has been opened, the veil has been rent. Through this open veil the Father now says, “Come to me!”

II. Rendering of Judgment upon the World The earth shook, the rocks split …

Judgment has now come; Earth stands judged. This refers not merely to the created world, but also to the forces of this world, the forces of this age, which are arrayed against the Lord and His kingdom. These are forces that do not acknowledge the sovereignty of God but rather insist that political, social, cultural, and economic forces are what must hold sway and have our loyalty.

This earthquake, which has significant historical corroboration, demonstrates that the foundations of this rebellious world ultimately cannot stand before God. The foundations are struck; the powers of this world quake. Scripture says,

  1. People will flee to caves in the rocks and to holes in the ground from the fearful presence of the LORD and the splendor of his majesty, when he rises to shake the earth (Is 2:19).
  2. For thus says the LORD of hosts: Once more in a little while, I am going to shake the heavens and the earth, the sea also and the dry land. I will shake all the nations; and they will come with the wealth of all nations, and I will fill this house with glory, says the LORD of hosts (Haggai 2:6-7).
  3. In my zeal and fiery wrath, I declare that at that time there shall be a great earthquake in the land of Israel (Ez 38:19).
  4. The kings of the earth rise up and the rulers band together against the Lord and against his anointed, saying, “Let us break their chains and throw off their shackles.” The One enthroned in heaven laughs; the Lord scoffs at them. He rebukes them in his anger and terrifies them in his wrath, saying, “I have installed my king on Zion, my holy mountain” (Psalm 2:2-6).
  5. In the time of those kings, the God of heaven will set up a kingdom that will never be destroyed, nor will it be left to another people. It will crush all those kingdoms and bring them to an end, but it will itself endure forever (Daniel 2:42).
  6. The LORD will roar from Zion and thunder from Jerusalem; the earth and the heavens will tremble. But the LORD will be a refuge for his people, a stronghold for the people of Israel (Joel 3:16).
  7. A ruin! A ruin! I will make it a ruin! The crown will not be restored until he to whom it rightfully belongs shall come; to him I will give it (Ez 21:27).

Yes, the world shakes; the world is judged. And, most important, as Jesus says, Now is the time for judgment on this world; now the prince of this world will be driven out (John 12:31).

Do not doubt, dear reader, that no matter how powerful this world may seem in its pride and glory, it has already been shaken; it has already been judged. The world has been conquered and shaken to its very foundations. Do not put your trust or hope in any worldly reality; the world has been judged and shaken; it cannot stand the test of time. For here we have no lasting city, but we seek the city that is to come (Heb 3:14).

III. Resurrection to New Life … the tombs broke open. The bodies of many holy people who had died were raised to life. They came out of the tombs after Jesus’ resurrection and went into the holy city and appeared to many people.

“Death is struck and nature quaking. All creation is awaking, to its judge an answer making.” (from the Dies Irae). Yes, by dying, Jesus has destroyed our death.

Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting? The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God. He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ (1 Corinthians 15:55-57).

Note well that although the text says that many of the dead appeared in Jerusalem, these appearances occurred after Jesus’ resurrection. Hence, we ought not to imagine ghosts or corpses walking around at 3:00 PM on Good Friday! Rather, they appeared on or after Resurrection Sunday. In this, they witness to the truth of resurrection and the initial fulfillment of the text from Ezekiel:

Behold, I will open your graves and cause you to come up out of your graves, My people; and I will bring you into the land of Israel. Then you will know that I am the LORD, when I have opened your graves and caused you to come up out of your graves, My people! I will put My Spirit within you and you will come to life (Ez 37:12-14).

Yes, on Good Friday, Jesus awakens the dead with the words, “Awake, sleeper, and arise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you” (Eph 5:14).

IV. Realization of Who Jesus Is When the centurion and those with him who were guarding Jesus saw the earthquake and all that had happened, they were terrified, and exclaimed, “Surely he was the Son of God!

Jesus most clearly showed His identity as the Son of God through His obedience to the Father. According to the Gospel of John, as Jesus rose from the table of the Last Supper, He said,

The prince of this world is coming. He has no hold over me, but he comes so that the world may learn that I love the Father and do exactly what my Father has commanded me. Come now; let us go forth (Jn 14:30-31).

The centurion, in seeing Jesus die this way, somehow recognizes in Him the obedience of the Son of God, who loves and obeys His Father.

By His obedience, Jesus has canceled our disobedience; His humility has canceled our pride. Yet the weakness of God is more powerful than any worldly force. The centurion, who knew power and was trained to respect it, saw in the earthquake and the other occurrences, an indication of the Lord’s glory. The Lord’s way to that glory is not our way. But His glory and Sonship cannot remain forever hidden! Scripture says,

See, he comes amid the clouds, and every eye will see him, even those who pierced him; and all peoples on earth will mourn because of him. Even So. Amen (Rev 1:7).

There Was a Man Who Had Two Sons – A Homily for the 4th Sunday of Lent

3.5Today’s Gospel is about a man who had two sons, both of whom forsook him and refused to relive in relationship with him. Although the sons seem to have very different personalities (one outwardly rebellious, the other outwardly obedient) they actually have similar internal struggles. In effect, neither one of them really wants a relationship with the father. Both prefer what their father has or can give them to their father himself.

In the end, one son repents and finds his way to the father’s heart. We are not so sure what happens to the second son because the story ends before that detail is supplied. Why did it end without telling us what happened? Because the story is really about you and me; it is we who must finish the story. The question we must answer is this: What do I really want: the consolation of God, or the God of all consolation? Do I want the gifts of God, or the giver of every good and perfect gift?

Let’s look at this Gospel in four parts.

I. Renegade Son – Most of us are quite familiar with today’s Gospel (the Parable of the Prodigal Son). In this story, most of us focus on the younger (and obviously sinful) son rather than the older one. This is interesting because it would seem that the Lord Jesus has His focus on the older son (the parable is addressed to the scribes and Pharisees, who see themselves as obedient). Nevertheless, let’s observe three things about this renegade son, also known as the Prodigal Son.

A. Corruption – This is an angry young man, alienated from his father. He wishes to possess what his father has, yet wants nothing to do with his father. In effect, he tells his father to drop dead. Yes, in effect he says, “Old man, you’re not dying fast enough. I want my inheritance now; I want to be done with you and cash in what is coming to me right now.”

His effrontery is even more astonishing given where and when it happened. Today we live in times when reverence for parents and elders is tragically lacking. But if our times are extreme in the one direction, ancient times in the Middle East were at the opposite extreme. In telling this parable as He does, Jesus shocks His listeners, who lived in a culture where no son would dream of speaking to his father in this way. Indeed, a son could be killed by his father for such insolence! Even to this day, so-called “honor killings” still occur in many parts of the Middle East. If a child brings dishonor to the family, it is not unheard of for the father to kill him or her. And while most governments forbid these practices, in many cultures people will look the other way and governments will seldom prosecute in such cases.

Thus, Jesus must have shocked his listeners with such a parable. Here was a son who did something so bold and daring as to be practically unthinkable. He was as insolent as he was insensitive, ungrateful, and wicked.

So hateful is this son that he has to go to a distant land to live. For even if his father does not kill him, his neighbors would surely set upon him and have him stoned for such insolence.

Even more astonishing than the son’s behavior, however, is the fact that father actually gives him his inheritance and allows him to leave.

This is Jesus’ veiled description of the patience and mercy of our Father, who endures even worse insolence from us, His often ungrateful children. We demand His gifts and grasp them with ingratitude; we want what God has, but do not want Him.

B. Consequences – The text says that the renegade son sets off “to a distant country.” It is always in a distant country that we dwell apart from God. The consequences of his action are great indeed.

This parable does not make light of sin. The Lord Jesus describes well a young man who chooses to live apart from God and in sinful rebellion. The result is that this renegade son lives in anguish and depravity. Once he runs out of money, he has no friends, no family, and no experience of his father.

So low is he that ends up looking up to pigs! So awful is his state that he becomes hungry for the disgusting mash that pigs eat. Yes, he is lower than an unclean animal—the most unclean animal that Jews can imagine—a swine.

Sin debases the human person and if its effects are not avoided, it orients us increasingly toward depravity. What was once unthinkable too easily becomes a common occurrence.

St. Augustine wrote of sin’s hold on individuals in his Confessions: “For of a forward will, was a lust made; and a lust served, became custom; and custom not resisted, became necessity. By which links, as it were, joined together (whence I called it a chain) a hard bondage held me enthralled” (Confessions, 8.5.10).

The renegade son is locked in to the consequences of his sinful choices. He is debased, debauched, and nearly dead.

C. Conversion – In an almost miraculous turn of events, the text says that he comes to his senses at last. Too many, especially today, suffer a darkened intellect due to the debasing effects of their sin; it would seem that no matter how debased, confused, and even enslaved they become, they still do not come to their senses, for their senseless minds have become darkened (cf Romans 1:21).

But thanks be to God, the renegade son does come to his senses and he says, I shall arise and go to my father! In this passage, the Greek text uses the word anistemi, here translated as “arise”—the same word used to describe the resurrection of Jesus. The young man’s father will later joyfully describe him as having been dead but then coming back to life.

St. Paul reminds us that we were dead in our sins, but God made us alive in Christ (cf Col 2:13). Thanks be to God for His mercy and for the conversion that He alone can effect in all of us, His renegade children, who ourselves have been debased, debauched, and dead in our sins. The conversion of this renegade son, we pray, is also our conversion, our rising and going back to the Father.

II. Rejoicing Father – The astonishment in this parable is only just beginning, for Jesus goes on to describe a father who is so merciful as to be shocking. He ascribes to the father things that no ancient father would ever do. And as He describes this ancient father, so filled with love and mercy that he casts aside personal dignity, we must remember that Jesus is saying, “This is what my Father is like.”

As the parable continues to unfold, we hear that the father sees the son while he’s still a long way off. This tells us that he was looking for his son, praying and hoping for his return.

In a human being such mercy is rare. The average person who is hurt and has his dignity scorned becomes resentful and avoidant, saying, “Never darken my door again!”

But how shockingly different this father is, lovingly and longingly waiting for the day when his son will appear on the horizon, looking for him day after day.

The text next tells us that when he saw his son, the father ran out to meet him, something no ancient nobleman would ever do. Running was a sign of being in flight or of being a slave on some errand. Further, in order to run, the ancients (who wore long garments) had to bare their legs—a disgraceful thing for nobility. Only common workers and slaves had their legs exposed.

Thus, here is the portrait of a father willing to debase himself in order to run and greet his returning son. When I take one step God takes two or more; he comes running to me!

In the parable, the robe and the ring that the father puts on his son are signs of family belonging or restoration. This is the full restoration of a young man who was willing to live as a slave in his own father’s house. But the father will have none of it. “You are my son! And my Son you have always been, whatever your sins. They are forgotten. You are my beloved son!”

What kind of Father is this? No earthly father would behave this way. This is the heavenly Father. Jesus is saying, “This is what my Father is like!”

III. Resentful Son – Now we turn our attention to the older brother. His sinfulness is more subtle. Outwardly, he follows his father’s rules; he does not sin in overt ways. His sins are more hidden.

Unlike his prodigal brother, he has never openly rejected his father. But inwardly, as we shall see, he is not so different.

Like his younger brother, the older son wants his father’s goods, not his father himself. To understand the subtlety of his struggle, let’s look at some of the details of the story. Notice the following fundamental issues with the resentful son:

  1. Distant – It is interesting that the last person to find out about the feast (and the reason for it) is the older son. This is the description of a son who is far away from his father, who is unaware of the happenings in his father’s life.

Off on some far-flung part of the property, he is going about his duties, which he seems to fulfill adequately. But we also get the feeling that there is a sense of distance between father and son.

Did this son not know that his father worried about his younger brother and was looking for him each day? It seems not! Even the lowly slaves in the household are drawn into the preparations for this great feast celebrating the return of the renegade son. It appears that the older son is the only one in the whole area who knows nothing about it. Even more telling is that he is unaware of his father’s joy at the return of his brother.

Yes, the resentful son is distant, a thousand miles away from the heart of his father.

  1. Disaffected – When this resentful son learns of the feast and the reason for it, he becomes sullen, angry, and resentful. He is disaffected. He stays away from the feast and refuses to enter.

So bitter is his resentment that his father will soon hear of it and come out to plead with him. Yes, this is a bitter, angry, and disaffected son.

But, dear reader, do not scorn him, for too easily we are he. Too easily, we die the death of a thousand cuts as we see sinners finding mercy. Too quickly do we become envious when others are blessed.

  1. Disconsolate – The father emerges from the feast to plead with his son to come in! Again, such a thing would be unheard of in the ancient world! Every father in those times would have commanded his son to come in to the feast and would expect to be obeyed immediately.

But this father is different, for he represents the heavenly Father, rooted in love more than in prerogatives and privileges. He has already demonstrated his love for his renegade son and now he does so for his resentful son.

The fact is, he loves both of his sons. Yes, the heavenly Father loves you and He loves me.

Tragically, the resentful son is unmoved by this demonstration of love. He remains disconsolate and must be confronted in his resentful anger.

  1. Disrespectful – Now we see the ugly side of the apparently obedient son. He does not really love or respect his father; he doesn’t really know him at all. He disrespects him to his face. He speaks of him as a slave master saying, “I have slaved for you … I have never disobeyed any one of your orders.”

Orders? I have slaved for you? Where is his love for his father? He does not see himself as a son but as an unwilling slave, one who follows orders only because he has to. In effect, he calls his father (to his face) a slave master, a despot.

Further, he accuses his father of injustice. Somehow he views the mercy his father showed to his brother as evidence of a lack of due mercy shown to himself. He considers his father unreasonable, unjust—even despicable. How dare his father show mercy to someone that he, the “obedient” son, does not think deserves it!

In calling his father an unjust slave owner and taskmaster, the son disrespects him to his face. But the father stays in the conversation, pleading with his son to reconsider.

  1. Disordered – Among the older son’s complaints is that his father never even gave him a kid goat to celebrate with his friends. But the goal in life is not to celebrate with friends; the goal is to celebrate with our heavenly Father.

Note how similar the two sons actually are. At one point the renegade son saw his father only in terms of what his father could give him; his father was only valuable to him in terms of the “stuff” he could get from him. And despite all his obedience, the older son—the resentful one—has the same problem. He seems to value only what his father can give him. It is not his father he really loves or even knows. It is the “stuff” that really interests him. He is concerned only what his father can give him.

In this way, the resentful son is disordered. He misses the whole point, which is not the “things” of his father but the relationship with his father. This is the point, the goal in life: to live with the Father forever in a relationship of love.

But again, be very careful before you condemn the resentful son. Too easily, we are he. It is so easy for us to want the good things of God but not God Himself. We want God’s blessings and benefits, but not His beloved self. We want the gifts of God, but not the God who is the giver of every good and perfect gift.

Yes, the disorder of this resentful son is too easily our disorder. There is something about our flesh that wants God to rain down blessings, yet once we have received them we want to run away and keep our distance from God. Relationships are complicated and dynamic. Our flesh prefers trinkets. We prefer to receive gifts on our own terms. Our flesh says, “Give me the priceless pearls, but begone with the powerful person who gives them!”

IV. Response – The father is outside pleading with his resentful son to enter the feast. And then, abruptly, Jesus ends the parable. Yes, the story ends! Does the resentful son go into the party or not? Why is the story left unfinished?

Simply put, it’s because you and I must finish the story. For we are so easily the resentful son.

Right now, the heavenly Father is pleading with you and me to enter the feast. Too easily we can brood and say that we have our reasons for not wanting to go into the feast. After all, that renegade son is in there. My enemy is in there. If Heaven involves meeting our enemy and celebrating with him, then too easily does our flesh say, “I’ll have nothing to do with it!”

Here is the great drama: will we enter the real Heaven? For the real Heaven is not merely a heaven of our own making, a heaven of our own parameters. Heaven is not a “members only” place.

Am I willing to enter on God’s terms? Or will I resentfully stand outside, demanding that Heaven be on my terms? Further, do I see Heaven as being with the Father, or is Heaven merely having the “stuff” I want?

The heart of Heaven is to be with the Father, to be with the Trinity. The danger with so many, even the religiously observant, is becoming the resentful son. The Father is pleading, pleading with us to enter the feast, pleading with us to set aside our prejudices and notions of exclusivity.

To the resentful son who said, “this son of yours …,” the father says, “your brother was lost and is found, was dead, and has come back to life.”

The Father is pleading for us to enter the feast—not some made-up feast where we choose the attendees—but the real, actual feast of Heaven, where some surprising people may be in attendance.

Will you enter the feast? The Father is pleading with you. He is saying, “Come in before it’s finally time to rise and close the door.” How will you answer Him? What is your response?

This parable is unfinished; you and I must finish it. What is your response to the Father’s pleading? Answer him!

Just for fun, here is a “retelling” of the parable in the “key” of F:

Feeling footloose and frisky, a feather-brained fellow forced his fond father to fork over the farthings and flew to foreign fields and frittered his fortune, feasting fabulously with faithless friends.

Fleeced by his fellows, fallen by fornication, and facing famine, he found himself a feed-flinger in a filthy farmyard. Fairly famishing, he fain would have filled his frame with foraged food from fodder fragments. “Fooey! My father’s flunkies fare finer,” the frazzled fugitive forlornly fumbled, frankly facing facts. Frustrated by failure and filled with foreboding, he fled forthwith to his family. Falling at his father’s feet, he forlornly fumbled, “Father, I’ve flunked and fruitlessly forfeited family favor!”

The farsighted father, forestalling further flinching, frantically flagged the flunkies to fetch a fatling from the flock and fix a feast.

The fugitive’s fault-finding brother frowned on fickle forgiveness of former folderol. But the faithful father figured, “Filial fidelity is fine, but the fugitive is found! What forbids fervent festivity? Let flags be unfurled. Let fanfares flare.”

And the father’s forgiveness formed the foundation for the former fugitive’s future faith and fortitude.