A Higher Standard

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

Preaching to the Choir (Twenty-Seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time)

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;

Yes, But How? A Reflection on the Mystery of Art

I cannot draw or paint. Yet I have always marveled at how some can take an empty canvas and bring it to life with color, form, depth, and shadow. And, little by little, from the painter’s brush and soul a picture emerges. So too with sculpting. A mere block of marble, with each blow of the sculptor’s tools, it comes to resemble the form of a human being or some other reality with nature.

Some years ago, there was a painter, on PBS (Bob Ross) who would, over the course of a half hour paint a picture and describe what he was doing as he went. I watched that show most every week for a number of years and, though I watched him, saw what he did, and even heard him describe the techniques, I never really ceased to be amazed by the mystery before me. How did he do it? Yes, he spoke of method and technique, but there was some deeper mystery at work; a power of the soul, a gift. He claimed we all have it. But I am more inclined to think some have it as a special gift.

Michelangelo famously said, Every block of stone has a statue inside it and it is the task of the sculptor to discover it. He also said, I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free. Yes, but how does he see it? How does he set it free? Indeed, another great mystery and faculty of the human soul of some.

As with music, the art of painting and sculpting seems a unique capacity of the human soul. Animals do not draw, they do not sculpt, they do not even appreciate art. It is a special gift to the human person to be captivated by beauty, and for beauty, once seen and experienced, to emerge from his soul in expressive praise. There are special glories and a unique gifts given only to the human person, a mysterious gift to be sure. It is caught up in our desire for what is good, true and beautiful, caught up in our soul’s ultimate longing for God.

Perhaps Michelangelo should have the last word: Every beauty which is seen here by persons of perception resembles more than anything else that celestial source from which we all are come.

Picture: A Painter in his Studio by Francois Boucher

Here’s a painter a work on a speed painting with a surprise end:

David Garibaldi: Jesus Painting from Thriving Churches on Vimeo.


Here’s a video of Bob Ross, the Joy of Painting show I mentioned above. In this brief passage he teaches us to paint a mountain and gives a little philosophy as well.



If you have time this video shows a remarkable transformation of a block of marble to a face.

Portraits of Success

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.

Photo Credit: HerryLawford via Creative Commons

Not Taken for Granted

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

Welcoming Like Jesus (Feast of Saint Matthew)

 

St. Matthew knew what it was like to feel excluded. Although he was Jewish, he was shunned by other Jews, because his work as a tax collector made him a collaborator with the hated Romans. Socially, he was an outsider, and outcast. His fellow countrymen wanted nothing to do with him.

We can only imagine that this exclusion filled him with loneliness and pain. Maybe that’s why, when Jesus said to him, “Follow me,” Matthew jumped at the chance. He wanted desperately to be welcomed and included. Which is precisely what Jesus does.

When Jesus dined at Matthew’s house later that day, Jesus was happy to sit and eat with more excluded people- other tax collectors and people identified only as “sinners.” Jesus welcomed them as well- something he does throughout the gospels, including the one that bears St. Matthew’s name.

Jesus invites everyone to be his disciple and enter his kingdom- regardless of race, ethnicity, nationality, gender, age, education, income or appearance. Jesus welcomes all people without exception, because all of us are sinners in need of redemption, and all of us are equally loved by God the Father.

Jesus challenges us today to be as welcoming and inclusive as he is. This may involve examining some of our actions and attitudes. For instance, do we harbor racist thoughts or tendencies? Do we look down on people we think are beneath us economically or socially? Do we envy or resent those we think are above us economically or socially? Do we see members of the opposite sex as equals? Do we scorn the young or marginalize the elderly? Are we intellectual snobs or athletes who mock non-jocks? Are we indifferent to the needs of persons with disabilities? Are we the pious who scorn the unbelieving or unrighteous? Do we ignore or avoid those who are different from us in some way?

If we answer “Yes” to any of these questions, it’s time for an attitude adjustment, so we can each do our part to bring about the vision St. Paul spoke of in our first reading: that we be one family, celebrating one faith, united in one Lord.

Readings for today’s Mass:http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/092111.cfm

 

Rejoice, Be Challenged, and Commit (St. Andrew Kim)

Whenever I think of religion in Asia, Buddhism and Confucianism automatically spring to my mind. How surprised I was to learn that in South Korea today, a tiny fraction of the population is Confucian, 26% is Buddhist, and 26% is Christian- 10% of whom are Catholic. This means that Christianity is tied, numerically speaking, as the largest religion in that Asian nation. Which is remarkable, considering that Christianity was introduced there just over 200 years ago, and the first native-born priest was ordained only in 1846.

That priest was St. Andrew Kim Taegon, whose feast we celebrate today. But it’s not just his feast. We also honor St. Paul Chong Hasang, who was a lay catechist, and his companions, the 103 Korean martyrs of the 19th century, the vast majority of whom were lay people. Indeed, it was the laity who first introduced Catholicism to Korea. It was lay leaders who helped it flourish before the first priests arrived decades later. And Korean Catholicism continues to flourish with a strong and committed laity.

Today’s celebration gives us the opportunity to rejoice, be challenged, and make a commitment. We can rejoice in the Church’s growth amongst the Korean people; we (as clergy and clergy candidates) can be challenged by the fact that the Korean church’s strength has come largely from faithful lay people; and we can commit ourselves to build up the Church in our nation, that the fruits of the Spirit manifested in Korea, may be enjoyed in the United States.

Photo Credit: (statue of St. Andrew Kim): Wikipedia Commons

Prophets, not Profits

A few years back, I wrote a children’s poem about the Christmas story. As it took shape, I thought that my little poem wasn’t half bad. That’s when the temptation arose for me to switch my focus from writing it for the benefit of my family, to writing it so I could make some extra dough. In writing, I was using a gift God had given me, but with the wrong intention.

God gives to each of us special gifts, talents, and opportunities. They’re given so that we might serve God, bless our neighbors, and grow as people. In receiving them, the question we should ask is, “How can I use them to glorify God?” Sadly, in our materialistic culture, the question we typically ask is: “How can I use them to make some money?” That may be good capitalism, but it’s poor Christianity.

God wants us to use the gifts he gives us. That’s what Jesus meant when he said that we need to set our light on a lampstand instead of hiding it under a bushel. But, as Jesus continued, we let our light shine, not so that we might be able to see, but so that “those who enter may see the light.”

In other words, God’s gifts aren’t simply for our own benefit, but are for the benefit of others. They’re to be used primarily to help people, instead of helping our bottom line. They’re given that might be prophets, instead of seeking a profit.

Today’s gospel challenges us to see and use all of what God has given us, not to build up our bank accounts, but to build up the kingdom of God.

Readings for today’s Mass: http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/091911.cfm

Photo Credit: epSos.de via Creative Commons