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September 2, 2016September 2, 2016

A Powerful and Humorous Look at Vanity in a Commercial

Most people associate the word “vanity” with an excessive concern or pride in one’s appearance or sometimes in one’s qualities. But at its root, vanity refers to emptiness. To say that someone is vain is to say that it he or she is empty or largely lacking in meaning, depth, or substance.

It makes sense that people get worked up about externals when there isn’t much happening on the inside. And thus it makes sense that we connect emptiness (vanity) with excessive show.

There are many expressions that enshrine this connection:

All form and no substance
That Texan is all hat and no cattle
All bark and no bite
All booster and no payload
All foam and no beer
All sizzle and no steak
All talk and no action

The Wisdom Tradition in the Bible, especially the Book of Ecclesiastes, speaks of vanity at great length. In it, the word is usually used to refer to the ultimate futility of what this world offers because the world itself is ultimately empty and vacuous.

Then I considered all that my hands had done and the toil I had expended in doing it, and behold, all was vanity and a striving after wind, and there was nothing to be gained under the sun (Eccl 2:11).
He who loves money will not be satisfied with money, nor he who loves wealth with his income; this also is vanity (Eccl 5:10).

The world, which so mesmerizes our senses, shows itself ultimately to be empty of power or any lasting substance.

We have here no lasting city (Heb 13:14).
As for man, his days are like grass: or as the flower of the field. Behold, he flourishes. But the wind blows and he is gone; and his place never sees him again (Ps 103:15-16).

These notions of vanity came to mind when I saw this admittedly very funny commercial. It shows a man concerned only with his appearance. Actually, he’s even more vain than that: it’s how he smells that concerns him (this is an Old Spice commercial, after all). He is so vapid, so vain, that he thinks that even if he doesn’t look good, well at least he smells like someone who looks good!

As he moves through the scenes of the commercial he becomes increasingly devoid of substance (literally!).

Symbolically, we can see him as the vain person who goes through life carelessly, paying no attention to the way in which the world, the desires of the flesh, and the devil strike at and eat away at him. But he doesn’t worry about that because at least he smells like someone who looks good! His only real substance is to be lighter than air, a whiff. It is form over substance, impression over reality. It is empty show; it is vanity on steroids.

Here is a humorous look at vanity, a vanity so extreme that it goes beyond appearance and extends into the vapid, vacuous, and vaporous vanity of merely wanting to smell like someone who looks good. It is a remarkable portrait of the empty show that vanity ultimately is. Enjoy!

September 1, 2016September 1, 2016

A Reflection on the Mystery of Art as a Capacity of the Human Soul

I can neither draw nor paint and have always marveled at how some can take an empty canvas and bring it to life with form, color, depth, and shadow. Little by little, from the painter’s brush and soul, a picture emerges. So, too, with sculpting: with each blow of the sculptor’s tools, a block of marble becomes the form of a human being.

Some years ago, there was a show on PBS called “The Joy of Painting,” featuring Bob Ross. Over the course of half an hour, Mr. Ross would paint a picture, describing what he was doing as he went. And though I watched that show almost every week for a number of years, observing what he did and listening to him describe his techniques, I never ceased to be amazed by the mystery on display. How did he do it? Yes, he explained his methods, but there was some deeper mystery at work: a power of the soul, a gift. He claimed that we all have it, but I am more inclined to think some have it as a special gift.

Michelangelo once 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.”

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 arts of painting and sculpting seem to be unique capacities of the human soul. Animals neither draw nor sculpt; they do not even appreciate art. It is a special gift to the human person to be captivated by beauty; it is also a gift that beauty, once seen and experienced, can emerge from the soul in expressive praise. There are special glories and a unique gifts given only to the human person, mysterious gifts to be sure. It is all caught up in our desire for what is good, true, and beautiful; it is 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.”

Here’s a video of “performance painter” David Garibaldi at work; watch for the surprise ending:

Here’s a video from an episode of Bob Ross’s “The Joy of Painting” show. In this brief clip he teaches us how to paint a mountain (and does a little philosophizing as well):

And finally this video shows the remarkable transformation of a block of marble into the image of a human face:

August 31, 2016August 31, 2016

What Is Your Biggest Distraction? No Need to Look Very Far!

We usually think of distractions as coming from the world around us, but is that really the most common source? Consider the following parable, drawn from the stories of the early Desert Fathers and from monastic experience:

Sometimes there would be a rush of noisy visitors and the silence of the monastery would be shattered. This would upset the disciples; not the Master, who seemed just as content with the noise as with the silence. To his protesting disciples he said one day, “Silence is not the absence of sound, but the absence of self.”

The fact is, our greatest distraction is usually our very self. Peter Kreeft has observed, “God made eyes to see everything but themselves” (Practical Theology, p. 223). And while we sometimes must “look” inward to examine our conscience or to know our inner self, what God most often wants us to see and focus on is outside and above us. Look to the beauty of creation, the wonder of others, the magnificence of God. These are not distractions; they are often exactly what God is trying to say to us, what He is revealing to us.

We are called to a kind of ecstasy in which we look outward and upward. The English word “ecstasy” comes from the Greek ekstasis (ek- (out) + histanai (to place or stand)), which means “standing outside yourself.”

Yes, looking outward and upward is the key. St. Thomas Aquinas makes an interesting observation regarding Mary’s astonishment at the greeting of the angel: “To a humble mind nothing is more astonishing than to hear its own excellence” (ST III, q. 30, art 3). Humility is self-forgetful and looks more to God’s glory, on vivid display outward and above.

St. Augustine described one of the essential problems of the human person as being incurvatus in se (turned in on himself). In doing so, a whole host of distractions assail us and we begin to think or say,

I’m bored.
I’m tired.
What will I do next?
What do people think of me?
Do I fit in?
Am I attractive enough?
Have I “made it”?
What does this or that have to do with me?
What have you done for me lately?
When will it be my turn?
What about me?
Why are people upsetting me? What gives them that right?

Yes, distractions like these (and myriad variations on them) swim through our mind when we are turned inward. Most of them are rooted in pride and its ugly cousin, vainglory.

But as the opening parable from the desert fathers teaches, it is the absence of self that brings true focus and serenity. Indeed, I am a witness of this, for my freest, most joyful, and most focused moments have come when I was most forgetful of myself.

Perhaps it was watching a movie that gripped my attention and drew me outside of myself and into the plot and the lives of the characters, even if only fictional.
Perhaps it was being powerfully aware of the presence of others and listening carefully to what they said.
Perhaps it was being in the company of close friends, where I was less concerned with seeking approval and could just relax in the moment and enjoy what was happening.
Perhaps it was a moment of deep appreciation of the natural world, when I walked through a field and was captured by “the color purple” and deeply moved by the beauty of God’s creation (some philosophers call this “aesthetic arrest”).
Perhaps it was a moment of deep and contemplative prayer when, by God’s gift, I forgot about myself and was drawn deeply into the experience of Him.

In moments like these, God takes us (who are so easily turned inward) and turns us outward and upward. The myriad distractions that come from self-preoccupation are hushed for a time, and forgetting our very self, we are almost wholly present to others, to creation, and to God. The noisy din of anxious self-concern quiets and our world opens upward and outward.

The Psalms often speak of God placing us in a spacious place (e.g., 18:19; 31:8; 119:45): You have set my feet in a spacious place, O Lord (Ps 31:8). There is nothing tinier and more cramped than being turned in on oneself.

Ask the Lord to set your feet in the wide spaces, to open you outward and upward. The worst distractions are not the noises outside us, but rather the ones within us, noises that come from being too preoccupied with ourselves. The silence that we most crave is not found in the absence of sound, but in the absence of self-preoccupation.

August 30, 2016

The Lord Must Follow the Preacher – A Reminder of Where Preaching Really Gets Its Power

In the first reading from today’s Mass (Wednesday of the 22^nd Week) St. Paul warns that the faithful should not esteem the preacher too highly. Esteem the Lord, who was able to speak through Balaam’s donkey. If God can use a donkey to preach, then one should not be too enamored of the particular human instrument the Lord uses to preach.

Pope St. Gregory taught that the preacher goes ahead of the Lord, announcing Him, as it were, and then the Lord comes in to “close the deal”:

Beloved brothers, our Lord and Savior … sends his disciples out to preach two by two. … Rightly is it said that he sent them ahead of him into every city and place where he himself was to go. For the Lord follows after the preachers, because preaching goes ahead to prepare the way, and then when the words of exhortation have gone ahead and established truth in our minds, the Lord comes to live within us. To those who preach Isaiah says: Prepare the way of the Lord, make straight the paths of our God. And the psalmist tells them: Make a way for him who rises above the sunset. … Therefore, we make a way for him who rises above the sunset when we preach his glory to you, so that when he himself follows after us, he may illumine you with his love.

Think over, my beloved brothers, think over his words: Pray the Lord of the harvest to send laborers into his harvest. Pray for us so that we may be able to labor worthily on your behalf, that our tongue may not grow weary of exhortation, that after we have taken up the office of preaching our silence may not bring us condemnation from the just judge.

(from a homily on the Gospels by St. Gregory the Great, Pope (Hom 17, 1-3: PL 76, 1139))

This is an important insight that can help preachers to avoid both pride and an exaggerated sense of responsibility. Yes, the preacher goes before the Lord, who then follows after to quicken the Word that has been planted.

First of all, this is a remedy for pride, because the preacher is not the Lord. Although it is the Lord’s own Word he preaches, the preacher cannot completely express what God alone can effect in the human heart. The preacher can but sow the seed of the Word; only God can bring forth the harvest. As St. Paul wrote,

I planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the increase. So neither he who plants nor he who waters is anything, but only God, who makes things grow (1 Cor 3:6-7).

The preacher can propose, but the Lord must come after to “close the deal.” The Samaritan woman was rather abruptly but truthfully told this by the townsfolk:

We no longer believe just because of what you said; now we have heard for ourselves, and we know that this man really is the Savior of the world (Jn 4:42).

Every preacher should delight to hear this. It is a valuable lesson for the preacher to remember his place. He goes before to announce the presence of God, who alone can heal and bring in the truest harvest by His grace.

The preacher is like the best man at an ancient Jewish wedding, to whom St. John the Baptist equated himself.

He who has the bride is the bridegroom; but the friend of the bridegroom, who stands and hears him, rejoices greatly because of the bridegroom’s voice. So this joy of mine has been made full. He must increase, but I must decrease (Jn 3:29-30).

St. Gregory’s insight also helps preachers to avoid an exaggerated sense of responsibility. Sometimes preachers may think too much rests on them, on their eloquence, on finding just the right analogy or the perfect wording. He may also lament his flaws. And while every preacher must work to hone his skills, Unless the LORD builds the house, its builders labor in vain (Ps 127:1).

Thus the preacher can help to lay a foundation, but it is the Lord who must build the house. It is both helpful and freeing for the preacher to remember that he merely goes before the Lord; the Lord will follow after with every good grace. The preacher must do his part in proclaiming the authentic word of God, but only the Lord Himself can perfect the message in every soul. He must preserve knowledge and prepare the way for the Lord, who causes the seed to grow in the hearts of the faithful and who will ultimately judge the living and the dead.

This is both freeing and reassuring. Most of us who preach realize this from time to time, particularly when someone recounts back to us something we have said, but does so in a way that surprises us. This demonstrates how the Lord helps people to hear something that our feeble words could only suggest.

In the end, every preacher must trust the Lord, who comes after him to complete what is lacking and to bring forth the fruits that he can only point to. The Lord causes His truth to shine forth—in consolation for the faithful and in judgment for the wicked. The battle is the Lord’s; so is the victory and the harvest.

This chorus from Handel’s Messiah says, “The Lord gave the word; great was the company of the preachers.”

August 28, 2016

Is There Such a Thing as Pure Evil? Here’s What St. Thomas Says.

We human beings are inclined to thinking categorically and absolutely. But not all (or even most) categories are absolute. Is there such a thing as absolute goodness, with no error admixed? Yes, most assuredly. God is so, as are the saints He has perfected in Heaven. But is there such a thing as absolute evil, in which there is no admixture of goodness? St. Thomas Aquinas and others say that there is not.

On one level, this is because evil is a privation, the absence of something that should be there. Hence if someone (or something) were wholly evil, he (it) would not exist at all. There would be no “there” there.

St. Thomas says,

Now in things it is impossible to find one that is wholly devoid of good. Wherefore it is also impossible for any knowledge to be wholly false, without some mixture of truth. Hence Bede says that “no teaching is so false that it never mingles truth with falsehood.” Hence even the teaching of demons, with which they instruct their prophets, contains some truths whereby it is rendered acceptable. For the intellect is led astray to falsehood by the semblance of truth, even as the will is seduced to evil by the semblance of goodness (Summa Theologica II, IIae, Q. 172, Art. 6).

Jesus warned us, Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep’s clothing but inwardly are ravenous wolves. You will know them by their fruits (Matt 7:15-16). The essence of temptation is including or alluding to something that is good or true. It is the good and the true that attract and serve as the lure. A fish would not be tempted by a rock attached to a hook. The bait is designed to attract the fish; it hides the hook. Similarly, we are not attracted by what is evil, ugly, and awful.

Scripture describes Eve’s temptation to partake of the forbidden fruit as follows: The woman saw that the fruit of the tree was good for food and pleasing to the eye, and also desirable for gaining wisdom (Gen 3:6). Food, beauty, and wisdom are all good. Thus even in the archetypal temptation, good things were proffered. But these concealed and were admixed with terrible ingratitude, disobedience, pride, and lack of trust in God.

Though the good can be absolute and categorical, evil cannot. Why is this important?

1 – It helps to make our battle with temptation and evil more informed, more prudent. It helps us to recognize the sly tactics of those who tempt us to evil by way of something good (but it is only apparently—not actually—good for us, due to the evil wrapped up in it).

This helps us to discern more carefully. We learn to distinguish what seems good (or as St. Thomas says, has the semblance of good) from what is truly good. Because nothing is absolutely evil, we can note what is good within any proposal, but also look beyond it to grasp the evil lurking there.

2 – It teaches that evil has no good of its own. Whatever good it has is stolen from what is truly good. Evil steals the good by misappropriating, misapplying, exaggerating, or deforming it in some way. Evil in itself appeals to no one, so it must steal from the good and dress itself up, luring us with what is good and cloaking its true emptiness.

Evil in itself is unappealing and devoid of anything it can claim as its own. It lives like a parasite on the good and must take something good in order to be anything at all.

So, while evil may appear powerful and enticing, in itself it has nothing to offer. Though evil scoffs at the good, it ultimately depends upon it.

3 – It helps us to avoid hatred and disdain of human persons, even those deeply wounded by sin and marked by rebellion or arrogance. There remain in them things that are good. They still have existence (from God). They still have intelligence and will, and not everything they do or desire is evil. Thus good can still be found in them; we can hope to appeal to those still good qualities as a basis for conversion before it is too late.

4 – It helps us find what is true even in false doctrines and philosophies. Heresy and error usually involve some exaggeration of what is true, but they fail to regard other truths that balance and distinguish them. Hence it is usually imprudent to wholly dismiss erroneous teachings as lunacy or to ridicule their proponents. A time-tested method is to find what is true, meet the proponent there, and then disclose the error by showing how it fails to account for other truths meant to balance it. St. Thomas Aquinas was a master at this.

5 – It teaches us patience and fortitude. The Lord told the parable of the wheat and the tares. Having sown good wheat in his field, the owner (God) acknowledges that an enemy sowed the tares. What is interesting is that the wheat and the tares look very much alike until just before the harvest. Nevertheless, an impatient field hand proposes to the owner that all the tares be removed immediately. The owner (God) urges caution, saying, No, because while you are pulling the weeds, you may harm the wheat with them (Mat 13:29).

While it is true that wheat cannot become tares and tares cannot become wheat, the same is not so with us. Too easily can we who would be wheat become tares. Yet also we who are tares can become more and more like wheat.

Thus in our battle against evil we must show care not to destroy what is good in us or in others. Even in evil people, some good can be found and nourished. This does not mean that strong medicine is never required, but the goal is to preserve what is good and to expose clearly what is evil.

So there will be a day of judgment, but not yet. God permits time so that we and others may repent. He seeks to grow what is good from within otherwise bad situations.

This often requires patience, admixed with resolve to expose evil for what it is. To be patient is not necessarily to be quiet. The word patience is rooted in the concept of suffering (patior = I suffer, I endure). To be patient is to stay at the work of preaching and calling to repentance until the very day of the harvest. To be patient involves suffering and endurance, because evil is stubborn and hides, pretending to be good.

The virtue of fortitude helps us to be courageous and to persistently stay at this work in spite of obstacles, disappointments, and setbacks.

6 – It provides us with insight as we endure suffering. God permits evil so that something good and better can come from it. There are hidden and paradoxical gifts in suffering and enduring evil. We are taught patience and humility. We learn to thirst for justice and the paradise of Heaven. Error can help us to better understand truth and hone our skills in apologetics as we seek to refute error. Because evil is not absolute, God can draw good from it; in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose (Rom 8:28).

7 – It teaches us a subtlety about God’s justice in relation to Hell and the damned. While Heaven is perfection and pure goodness, Hell is not pure evil. St. Thomas teaches,

It is impossible for evil to be pure and without the admixture of good …. [So]those who will be thrust into hell will not be free from all good … [And even] those who are in hell can receive the reward of their goods, in so far as their past goods avail for the mitigation of their punishment (Summa Theologica, Supplement 69.7).

This can assist us in understanding that God’s punishments are just and that the damned are neither devoid of all good nor lacking in any experience of good. Even though a soul does not wish to dwell in God’s Kingdom due to that person’s rejection of God or the values of the Kingdom, the nature of suffering apart from God in Hell is commensurate with the sin(s) that excluded the person.

This would seem to be true even of demons. In the Rite of Exorcism, the exorcist warns the possessing demons, “The longer you delay your departure, the worse your punishment shall be.”

In his Inferno, Dante wrote of levels within Hell and that not all the damned experience identical sufferings. Thus, an unrepentant adulterer might not experience the same suffering in kind or degree as a genocidal and atheistic head of state directly responsible for the death of millions. Both have rejected key values of the Kingdom: one rejected chastity, the other rejected the worship due to God and the sacredness of human life. But the degree of their sin and the consequences of that sin are very different.

So Heaven is a place of absolute perfection, a work accomplished by God for those who say yes. But Hell, though a place of great evil, is not a place of absolute evil. It cannot be, because God continues to sustain human and angelic persons in existence there (despite their final rejection of what He offers), and existence itself is good. He also judges them according to their deeds. Their good deeds may ameliorate their sufferings; this, too, is good and allows for good in varying degrees there. Hell is not in any way pleasant, but it is not equally bad for all. And thus God’s justice, which is good, reaches even Hell.

In summary, good can be perfect and whole, but evil can never be pure and total. The implications to this are many. Pray carefully over the insights presented above and apply them well, for the days are evil. Thanks be to God that total evil is not to be found. Our job is to find what is good and, by God’s grace, to grow it.

August 26, 2016August 26, 2016

Two Biblical Lessons in One Commercial

In the video below, a little child is troubled by the presence of a golden retriever while strangely consoled by a stuffed lion. The solution? Disguise the dog as a lion so that the child will let the dog approach. It seems a rather strange tactic; most would say that dogs are much nicer than lions. But try telling that to the little girl!

I see two biblical themes here:

The first theme is that God met the fallen human race where we were in order to lead us to something better. When people today read the early history of the Bible, most of us are aghast at the level of violence. In ancient times there were no settled laws, no legislatures, no agreed-upon borders between nations, no judges, and no police; there was only fierce tribalism. Brutal battles usually settled land disputes and other disagreements. Annihilating one’s adversary through total physical destruction and genocidal removal was an accepted strategy.

This is where God met ancient Israel. They only understood the fierce lion, not the Lamb of Sacrifice. God would lead them there, but first He had to choose a people, clear the land for them, and then settle them there. Thus He first came to them as Yahweh Sabaoth (the LORD of armies) and summoned them to fierce battle to take the Promised Land by force.

Soon enough, God would lead them to understand more peaceful methods, but for the time being violence was all they understood. Israel was much like the child in the video, who strangely prefers the lion to the gentler dog. So, then, look like the lion and establish the relationship; gentler things will come later.

The second theme is that of St. Paul, who said, To the weak I became weak, that I might win the weak. I have become all things to all people, that by all means I might save some. I do it all for the sake of the gospel, that I may share with them in its blessings (1 Cor 9:22-23).

St. Paul was willing to set aside his own preferences and (to some degree) to become all things to all people in order to save them. St. Paul refers here not to the truth, but to cultural things such as dietary matters, language, wealth, perceived strengths, and other sensibilities. He did this in order to establish a relationship and to open the door to the Gospel. Some today interpret St. Paul too broadly, saying that we should set aside moral and doctrinal teachings in order to reach people. But note that St. Paul only sets aside certain things, and those “for the sake of the Gospel that I may share its blessings.” Thus, the truth of the Gospel is the point! If food or what sort of headgear I wear gets in the way, then away with it—but never away with the truth of the Gospel. Opening the door to the Gospel is the whole purpose!

And thus in this video the dog is “willing” to don lion headgear in order to reach the child. He’s willing to become lion-like in order to show her the truth of canine loyalty.

I know this may seem like a stretch, but I hope you get the point. Enjoy the video!

August 25, 2016August 25, 2016

Decide! Parables on Judgment and the Drama of Human Life

Today’s Gospel at daily Mass (Friday of the 21^st Week of the Year) features one of the many parables in which Jesus paints a picture of the great drama of human life. We are caught up in a great and cosmic battle and must choose sides; there are only two armies and no third way is given. Sadly, most have lost any sense of this, despite the battle lines being more clearly drawn than ever.

Most casual readers of the Bible tend to view the parables as merely interesting, entertaining stories. They are indeed interesting and entertaining, but they are deadly serious as well; they powerfully portray the drama of human life, the need to make decisions, and the consequences of those decisions. The parables carry weighty messages and substantial warnings. Do not misconstrue their creative, pithy, memorable qualities as signs of superficial teaching.

Some of Jesus’ starkest warnings come in the form of parables. In them, the drama of human life in the valley of decision (Joel 3:14) is vividly proclaimed. Indeed, the parables are mostly about the drama and decisions of human life and the stance we take in the cosmic battle that rages around us. Our decisions point to our destiny. Of Jesus’ 37 parables, 20 are ones that remind us of the drama of our lives in the valley of decision and warn us of the consequences of our choices, choices that can bring blessing or curse, rise or ruin, salvation or condemnation. Let’s review some of them, in order of increasing intensity:

The rich fool (Luke 12:16–21): This is a parable of a rich man who hoards the surplus yielded by a bountiful harvest rather than being generous with it. God calls him a fool and claims his life that very night. In this parable Jesus warns us of the foolishness of living for passing, worldly things, and cautions that total loss is coming for those who are not rich in what matters to God.
The wise and the foolish builders (Matthew 7:24–7; Luke 6:46–49): This is the conclusion of the Sermon on the Mount, and in it the Lord describes the dramatic difference between those who follow His teachings and those who do not. Those who heed His Word are like those who build their houses on solid rock and are thus able to endure the storms that come. But the foolish, who do not heed His Word, are like those who build their houses on sand. For them, the result is total loss and destruction when the storm of judgment comes.
The parable of the sower (Matthew 13:3–9; Mark 4:3–9; Luke 8:5–8): Though God sows the seed of His Word abundantly, some of it falls on the path where it is consumed by birds. Other seed falls among thorns, which choke it off. Still other seed falls on rocky soil and withers due to the lack of roots. This is a dramatic warning to those who harden their hearts to God’s Word or who allow the soil of their heart to be thinned or choked off by the world. The warning is this: you will not bear the necessary fruit. Some seed, however, does fall on rich soil and it yields an abundant harvest. There is a dramatic difference in the results, and it is rooted in the disposition of our hearts.
The parable of the wheat and tares (Matthew 13:24–30): God’s field of wheat is over-sown by the weeds of Satan. (This is a dramatic description of the two armies in this world.) Angry field hands propose pulling up the weeds, but the owner cautions that doing so might harm the wheat. He instructs them to allow the wheat and weeds to grow together until the harvest. There is a harvest, at which time the wheat will be gathered in but the weeds will be thrown into the fire. So there is a day of judgment, though not yet. Although the drama must still unfold, the final verdict will ultimately be rendered.
The barren fig tree (Luke 13:6–9): This is a parable about patience. In it, extra time is given to an unfruitful fig tree. But the day of judgment is set, and if fruit is not found on the tree on that day, it will be cut down. This is the drama of our life: if we do not manifest the fruit of righteousness we will be removed from the Lord’s field.
The dragnet (Matthew 13:47 –50): The kingdom of God (the Church) is compared to a dragnet, which captures all sorts of things. The drama unfolds when the net is hauled ashore and there comes the judgment. Only what is good is retained; that which is unclean and worthless is cast aside.
The parable of the counting of the cost (Luke 14:28–33): In this parable, Jesus warns that discipleship is costly and that some are not able or willing to finish once started. He uses the images of a building begun without the resources necessary to finish it, and of a king going to war knowing he is greatly outnumbered. Similarly, some will set off to be disciples but later realize that they do not have the resources or willingness to continue. Thus the Lord sets forth in this parable that discipleship is costly and that the warfare is real. The implication of this is that some are willing to accept the cost while others are not. The road to salvation is narrow and few find it. The narrow way is the way of the cross. Many turn back from it, preferring the wide road that ultimately leads to destruction.
The unforgiving servant (Matt 18:23-35): A man who owes a huge debt to the king has it forgiven, but then refuses to forgive the much smaller debt of a fellow servant. The king then calls the man back and applies the same unforgiving standard to him that he used on his confrere. Thus the measure we measure out to others will be measured back to us. Merciless is the judgment on one who has shown no mercy. And further, if we do not forgive the sins of others, neither will we find forgiveness from the Father. The choice to forgive and show mercy is a dramatic and crucial decision for us, one that will affect our final judgment in a powerful way!
The prodigal son (Luke 15): A sinful son returns to and is reconciled with his father. But in a dramatic twist, the “obedient” son becomes bitter and refuses to enter his father’s house. Even more dramatically, the parable ends without us knowing whether or not the obedient son ever entered. This is because you are that son and you must decide for yourself if you will enter the Father’s house on His terms or stay outside, brooding that God doesn’t do everything on your terms.
The dishonest steward (Lk 16:1-13): An unscrupulous steward has been discovered embezzling funds. In the end, though, Jesus praises his craftiness even though it is wrong. The point being made is that most sinners are far more dedicated to their world than Christians are to the Kingdom. This parable is another example showing that too many are simply not willing to fight for and with the Kingdom, and are thus lost as much through apathy as through wickedness.
The rich man and Lazarus (Lk 16:19-31): In this parable, a rich man who has been insensitive to the poor ends up in Hell. Through this we are taught that such insensitivity is a damnable sin. In the great drama of his life, the rich man preferred to be wealthy in the world rather than to store up treasure for himself in Heaven. So hardened is his heart that even though he is now in torment in Hell, he does not ask to come to Heaven, but rather that Lazarus be dispatched to Hell to bring him water. In this, the rich man shows that he has not changed; he still looks down on Lazarus and prefers creature comforts to God and His kingdom. His heart is dramatically hardened, and so can ours be if we let sin, neglect, and insensitivity go unchecked.
The wicked vineyard workers (Mat 21:33-41): The owner of a vineyard sends representatives to collect his share of the produce, but the wicked workers beat some and kill others. Finally, they kill the owner’s son. Next the owner comes and submits them to a bad end. In the drama of this world, there are many who reject God’s call for a share in their hearts; they beat or even kill those who prophetically call them to give God glory and to live holy lives. In rejecting His appointed prophets, they also reject Christ and will come to a bad end!
The great banquet (Matt 22:1-14; Lk 14:15-24): A king holds a wedding feast for his son, but the invited guests are too involved in worldly affairs to bother coming even to so great an event. The king grows angry and burns their town. He then goes off to invite others until the banquet is filled. But there is one in attendance who refuses to wear the provided wedding attire. For this, he is thrown into the outer darkness. Through this parable we are taught that while many are called, few are chosen. Our decision to accept or reject God’s invitation is critical. Either we accept it and enter the feast or else a fiery end is in store for us. Even those of us who accept must wear the robe of righteousness that God provides us or else risk being cast into the outer darkness. Our decisions are dramatic and they determine our destiny!
The wise and the foolish virgins (Mat 25:1-13): Ten bridesmaids await the groom’s arrival. Five were wise and carried extra oil; five were foolish and thus unprepared when the groom arrived. The wedding went on without the foolish bridesmaids and when they finally returned, the groom said to them, “Depart from me; I know you not.” This parable depicts the drama of our lives. We must live in readiness. The oil of our holiness must always be replenished and kept ready by prayer, the sacraments, Scripture, and fellowship with the Church (Acts 2:42). Judgment day is coming! Keep your lamps trimmed and burning!
The sheep and the goats (Mat 25:31-46): In a scene of the great judgment, the Lord welcomes the righteous sheep on his right to the glory of Heaven, but consigns the wicked goats on His left to the fires of Hell. While the passage emphasizes the corporal works of mercy and indicates that to neglect them is a damnable sin, the passage should not be taken to mean these will be the only matters adjudicated. But again, note how dramatic our decisions in life are, including how we choose to care for the poor and needy!

The Lord repeatedly sets before us the great drama of human life and decision. Our choices matter and they build to a fundamental, final destiny. Thoughts beget deeds, deeds beget habits, habits beget character, and character begets destiny. This is the drama and dignity of our life.

Though consistently preached by Jesus in the parables and in countless other texts, this theme is rarely mentioned in preaching today. We preachers must change this if we are to authentically announce the Gospel. For those who hear and heed the message, blessings await. For those who stubbornly refuse or sinfully neglect the message, doom awaits. This is the drama of every human life.

Here are two final passages from Jesus. The first contains a warning, the second, a blessing.

Jesus said, “Take heed, watch and pray; for you do not know when the time will come. It is like a man going on a journey, when he leaves home and puts his servants in charge, each with his work, and commands the doorkeeper to be on the watch. Watch therefore—for you do not know when the master of the house will come, in the evening, or at midnight, or at cockcrow, or in the morning— lest he come suddenly and find you asleep. And what I say to you I say to all: Watch” (Mk 13:33-37).

Therefore, you also must be ready; for the Son of man is coming at an hour you do not expect. Who then is the faithful and wise servant, whom his master has set over his household, to give them their food at the proper time? Blessed is that servant whom his master when he comes will find so doing (Mat 24:44-47).

August 23, 2016

A Good Reminder from the Lord on Titles and Honors

Last Saturday (20^th Week of the Year) featured a Gospel in which the Lord cautions us on the use and collection of titles. Speaking of the religious authorities of His day, Jesus lamented,

They love places of honor at banquets, seats of honor in synagogues, greetings in marketplaces, and the salutation ‘Rabbi.’ As for you, do not be called ‘Rabbi.’ You have but one teacher, and you are all brothers. Call no one on earth your father; you have but one Father in heaven. Do not be called ‘Master’; you have but one master, the Christ. The greatest among you must be your servant. Whoever exalts himself will be humbled; but whoever humbles himself will be exalted (Mat 23:6-12).

Jesus is not trying to banish words from our vocabulary. Neither is He dismissive of all titles. Elsewhere Jesus says, You call me ‘Teacher’ and ‘Lord,’ and rightly so, for that is what I am (John 13:13). To reduce these Gospels to a dismissal of the use of titles is to miss the point. The deeper points are the need for humility and the understanding that titles are a summons to serve.

In another Gospel (Luke 9), after a dispute arose among the Apostles about who was the greatest, Jesus placed a child in their midst and said, in effect, “Here is the greatest. Now be sure to honor this greatest one with service and care.” Jesus also seems to imply that this is how the Father sees all of us.

It really is a simple lesson, so simple that we usually miss it entirely: For all our coveted titles, honors, and distinctions, our greatest title is “Beloved Child of God.”

Understanding our status as a child is the true picture of greatness, not being a “big cheese.” To be humble and to understand the dignity of humility is what God calls great.

We Catholics (and especially we Catholic clergy) love our distinctions and honorifics: Your Excellency, Your Eminence, Your Grace, Your Holiness, Pontifex Maximus, Reverend, Very Reverend, Right Reverend, Reverend Father, etc. You name it, we’ve got it!

Lay people have their titles too: Worthy Grand Knight, Past Grand Knight, Prefect, Chairman, etc.

When I was Dean, my own full title was this mouthful: The Very Reverend Monsignor Charles Evans Pope, M. Div., M.A. And you might want to add “Big Mouth Blogger,” too!

Do you want to know what God calls me? “Carlitos” (Little Charlie). Regardless of the “exalted” status I attain, to God I am just a little boy whom He dares not let out of His sight lest I run into trouble. Whatever my titles (and I am grateful for every bit of graciousness extended to me), I am no more baptized than any other Christian, and my greatest title is “Child of God.”

The Pope has authority, is deserving of our respect, and rightly has titles accorded him. But he is no more baptized that you or I. Before God, we are accorded this highest and equal dignity: God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved (cf Col 3:19). We are just his little children. This is our greatest dignity, our greatest title.

Why, you may ask, do I say, “little children”? Because Jesus did—and not just in this Gospel, but elsewhere as well. There is a tender moment when, after His resurrection, the Lord Jesus stood on the shore of the Sea of Galilee and called out to grown men, “Little children, have you caught anything?” The Greek word used is Παιδία (padia) meaning little children or infants. And while this diminutive is surely used affectionately, there is little doubt that this is how God likely sees us.

We easily forget our beloved status before God and engage in debates about our relative (lesser) status here in this world. We get argue about who is the greatest, who gets to do what, and who gets which honors. We debate the rules surrounding roles: why women can’t be priests, who is the head of the household, and what leadership positions are open to whom.

Setting aside our greatest dignity, we focus on lesser distinctions.

To be sure there are distinctions and offices, some of them from God. Scripture says,

And God has placed in the church first of all apostles, second prophets, third teachers, then miracles, then gifts of healing, of helping, of guidance, and of different kinds of tongues. Are all apostles? Are all prophets? Are all teachers? Do all work miracles? Do all have gifts of healing? Do all speak in tongues? Do all interpret? Now eagerly desire the greater gifts (1 Cor 12:28-31).

But note that any distinctions, even those from God Himself, do not affect our dignity, because that is something we all have by baptism. Before any other title, role, or honor, our greatest title and dignity is “Child of God and member of the Body of Christ.”

Regarding our dignity, Scripture says,

So in Christ Jesus you are all children of God through faith, for all of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ. Here there is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus. If you belong to Christ, then you are Abraham’s seed, and heirs according to the promise (Gal 3:26-29).

St. Paul is not denying distinctions. Of course there is male and female. But distinctions do not overrule our common and fundamental dignity as children of God.

Do we really understand this? Too often, we do not. And thus in an instant we’re back into debates about who is greatest, who gets to do what, and who is in charge.

St. Augustine beautifully underscored how distinctions do not affect dignity when he said, “For you I am a bishop, with you I am a Christian.” To my own parishioners I have sometimes built on this quote and said, “For you I am a pastor, with you I am your brother, from you I am your son.”

Distinctions should not be confused with dignity. Our greatest dignity and title is something we share, something given to us by God not by man: “Child of God.” It’s your greatest title. This is a simple teaching by Jesus that is often overlooked.

I will conclude with a humorous story:

One day a powerful and influential Cardinal Archbishop of a large city was in Jerusalem strolling with his priest secretary in the market. He came upon a vendor who cried out, “You, sir! Come here and I’ll give you a fair deal!” The secretary, annoyed at the vendor’s use of the lesser title “sir” said to him, “Do you know who this is?” “No,” replied the vendor. The priest said, “This is His Eminence Cardinal Archbishop so-and-so.” “Really?” answered the vendor, “Well, I’ll still give you a fair deal!”

Our distinctions do not affect our fundamental dignity.

Here is how God sees us: