To be discreet most commonly means to be careful, prudent, or circumspect, especially in terms of speech. The word discreet comes from Latin discretus, meaning separate or distinct. To be discreet is not to be secretive; it is to make a prudent discernment about what to say to whom and when to say it. Personal, private conversations ought to stay that way.
For a priest, discretion is obviously essential. This is true not only because we hear confessions (in which case absolute secrecy is mandatory) but also because many seek our counsel about things that are personal and confidential. We hear a lot of things that we have no business repeating, even to the person who sought our counsel or pastoral advice, without express provision and permission. Both pastoral and professional discretion are necessary.
There is a broader sort of discretion that is also important for priests, because we are public figures and represent not just ourselves, but the Church. This discretion involves being prudent and careful about expressing our personal views on topics such as politics, economics, and legislative policies.
This is particularly difficult today because many moral issues have been politicized. Economics and legislative policies often touch on important moral and spiritual truths. In such cases, to be discreet is to preach and teach the moral principles while avoiding merely partisan or ideological speech.
Another reason it is so difficult is because we live in contentious times and in a noisy, blabbermouth culture. Social media and other platforms such as YouTube and television talk shows encourage a lot of indiscreet and indiscriminate sermonizing and publishing of opinions. In this overall climate of indiscretion, priests can easily fall prey to the tendency to say too much about too many things. We can lose our focus on the Gospel and become too influenced by our opinionated culture.
Oftentimes priests feel baited or pressured to disclose their views. “What you think about that election, Father? What’s your view on all this global warming talk?” I’d like to make a humble request: please don’t bait us; we’re already too talkative as it is! 🙂 When I sense I am being drawn into such a conversation I have learned to say, “Why do you ask me this?”
Yes, discretion is so important for priests. Please help us stay on message and in our own field. Please help us to preach the Gospel. Please help us to learn the value of holy silence, not just in the moment, but in prayer as well, wherein we listen carefully to voice of God.
Cardinal Robert Sarah beautifully sets forth the need for priestly silence, in both prayer and in daily discretion. His words are critically important for all of us, but especially for priests:
The narcissism of excessive speech is a temptation from Satan. It results in a form of detestable exteriorization in which man wallows on the surface of himself, making noise so as not to hear God. It is essential for priests to learn to keep to themselves words and opinions they have not taken the trouble to meditate on, interiorize, and engrave in the depth of their heart. We must preach the word of God and certainly not our petty thoughts!
… Now this preaching implies silence. Otherwise it is a waste of time—petty, sententious chatter. Spiritual exhibitionism, which consists of exteriorizing the treasures of the soul by setting them forth immodestly, is the sign of a tragic human poverty and the manifestation of our superficiality. We [priests] often speak because we think that others expect us to do so. We end up no longer knowing how to be quiet because our interior dike is so cracked that it no longer holds back the floods of our words. Gods own silence, however, should teacher us that is often necessary to be quiet [Cardinal Robert Sarah, The Power of Silence, pp. 194-195].
Pray for priests. Help us, that we may be discreet and speak only after prayerful silence.
One of the difficulties that many Christians experience is that although the needs around us are great, we are limited in both personal strength and resources. Lurking in the back of our minds is the idea that whatever the problem, Jesus would always help and therefore we should as well. Is it always wrong to say “no” when there is a need?
Jesus was quite generous with His time, attention, and resources. We are counseled to be rich in mercy and kindness, expansive in charity, and willing to forsake everything to follow Christ. For limited human beings, though, often with many competing obligations, are there no limits? Of course; there have to be. Well, what did Jesus do? Did He ever say no?
Many think that Jesus always said yes, especially to the poor and needy, but in fact there were times when Jesus said no. I’d like to look at three of them in particular. I chose these three because to some extent they deal with the needy. (Other examples of Jesus saying no pertain more to specialized circumstances or inappropriate requests (e.g., James and John asking for seats of honor, or Peter wanting to use a sword to defend Jesus).)
I. No to the sick? The Gospel for Wednesday of the 22nd week takes place in Capernaum. Jesus and His apostles have made quite an impression. He cured a demon-possessed man in the synagogue and word has spread. Jesus is lodging at the house of Simon Peter and has just cured Peter’s mother-in-law of a great fever. The story is picked up in the Gospel of Luke:
At sunset, all who had people sick with various diseases brought them to him. He laid his hands on each of them and cured them (Luke 4:40).
Clearly the Lord is helping a lot of people, as was His custom. The crowd has grown quite large and He continues to cure until sundown. Then comes a twist:
At daybreak, Jesus left and went to a deserted place. The crowds went looking for him, and when they came to him, they tried to prevent him from leaving them. But he said to them, “To the other towns also I must proclaim the good news of the Kingdom of God, because for this purpose I have been sent” (Luke 4:42-44).
Here we have what seems an unusual occurrence: The fact that the people of Capernaum are still distraught and searching for Him, implies that there are many sick still waiting for Jesus’ ministrations. Jesus, however, says no to their request that He return. He also indicates His intention to go on to other villages to preach, for that is what He has come to do.
Why does Jesus say no? For two reasons it would seem.
First, in terms of His humanity, He is limited. He has not come to save only Capernaum; therefore, He must devote attention to other places as well. In effect, He must allocate His “limited” (humanly speaking) resources justly and effectively. This is also the case with us. We must help the poor, but we must also feed our own children as well as meet other obligations. Saying no is not necessarily un-Christlike; rather, it is a humble admission of our limitations.
A second reason Jesus likely says no is that He will not allow Himself to be pigeon-holed as a medical miracle worker. He has come to preach and ultimately to take up His cross. Part of what He preaches is the role of the cross in life. It is not always appropriate to alleviate every burden. To be labeled as “Mr. Fix-it” is to be diminished. The Lord did not come merely to heal the body, but even more so to heal the soul. Jesus saying no is therefore also a teaching moment.
We who would imitate Christ should not think that alleviating burdens is our only mission. Sometimes it is more loving to let others carry the crosses that God intends for them. We are not necessarily being callous or un-Christlike as long as our intent is to allow people to experience necessary growth or to understand the consequences of their choices.
We must be careful not to excuse ourselves too easily from our duty to help others, but neither should we become enablers, causing others to become too dependent. In most cases, we should not do for others what they can do for themselves.
The good should not eclipse the best. The Lord would not allow himself to be drawn into a situation where what was good about Him (healing) eclipsed what was best (salvation and the preaching of the Kingdom). Hence, He sometimes said no.
II. “No” on a matter of social justice? On another occasion (during Jesus’ Sermon on the Plain) a man called out from the crowd,
“Teacher, tell my brother to share the inheritance with me.” [But] Jesus replied, “Man, who appointed me a judge or an arbiter between you?” Then he said to them, “Watch out! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; a man’s life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions” (Luke 12:13-15).
Here, too, we have a bit of an unexpected twist. We might expect Jesus to side with this man. After all, isn’t sharing the family inheritance with potentially needy siblings a just and charitable thing to do? But Jesus says no and then warns the man of greed.
Jesus seems to have two reasons for saying no in this situation. First, He doesn’t want to get roped into being a legal arbiter in worldly matters. Second, He can see into the man’s heart and wants to rebuke his greed.
Jesus teaches us two things with his no. Sometimes people try to draw us into what does not concern us. They may ask us to take sides in a family dispute or on some issue on which it is not right for us to take sides. On other occasions, we may be asked to resolve matters involving two adults who should be expected to work out their own differences. Supervisors, pastors, and other leaders often experience such inappropriate attempts. There are surely times when leaders should help to arbitrate disagreements, especially if they pertain to specific matters over which they have authority; but there are also many occasions when requested help in such matters deserves a no in response.
We are also taught that we are not always required to give people exactly what they ask for. Although we are not gifted with Jesus’ ability to see into people’s heart and understand their motives fully, we can sometimes see that no is the best answer in a particular situation. Perhaps what a person is requesting is inappropriate or will harm others. Perhaps it will offend against the common good. Perhaps the request involves an unwise use of resources or is contrary to agreed-upon goals and priorities. There are many reasons we can and should say no. This may be so even if the one asking insists that it what he is requesting is just and fair. It may cause disappointment or incite anger, but that does not necessarily mean that we are doing anything wrong. Jesus did sometimes say no.
III. No to the hungry? The final example brings us to the shores of the Sea of Galilee. Jesus has just finished multiplying the loaves and fishes, feeding thousands of people. News of this has spread and the word of free food is drawing a crowd. Some of the crowd is not dispersing, so Jesus draws apart to pray and sends the apostles to the other side of the lake where He promises to join them later. After Jesus walks on the water (!) to meet the apostles in the boat, they all arrive on the other shore. News that Jesus headed in that direction reached some in the crowd, who then ran around the lake to meet Him. As Jesus disembarks, they greet Him with false surprise: “Rabbi! When did you get here?” Jesus was not born yesterday; He knows that they are merely looking for more free food. He says to them,
I tell you the truth, you are looking for me, not because you saw miraculous signs but because you ate the loaves and had your fill. Do not work for food that spoils, but for food that endures to eternal life, which the Son of Man will give you (John 6:26-27).
In effect, Jesus refuses to produce again the food of this world and instead summons them to faith. In the remainder of John 6, He goes on to teach extensively on the Holy Eucharist and insists that this food is more necessary for them. They are unimpressed and reject His teaching as a “hard saying” (Jn 6:60). In effect, this is another no from Jesus.
Feeding the hungry is usually something commended, even commanded, but in the end, Jesus will not allow them to seek only that which is good (bread) while refusing what is best (the Bread of Life).
As a priest, I have had this problem with some of the poor who come to me. When someone first comes to me asking for financial assistance, I give it wholeheartedly and inquire as to the story behind the need. The person almost always admits that he or she has no real church home. I then proceed to say that coming to Church and receiving Holy Communion are absolutely essential for salvation. If the people seeking help are not Catholics, I ask them to at least come and see if they are ready to accept the faith. Most of them do not follow up on this invitation and yet still come back looking for more money and resources. I then begin to place a condition upon continued assistance: they must either start coming or I must be sure that they are attending somewhere. I will not continue to give worldly food to those who refuse heavenly food.
Some have argued that this is not what Jesus would do, but in fact this is exactly what He did. He said no to those who wanted only their bellies filled but not their hearts. Of course in an emergency, or if little children are involved, this approach may have to be adapted. Furthermore, there are other places to get food and essentials in this country besides this one Catholic parish. Perhaps I can refer an individual somewhere else. In the end, though, I have to summon people not merely to the good, but to the best. This is not un-Christlike.
The essential point is that it is not always wrong to say no. Jesus did so even in some classic situations of social justice and charity. We should never refuse casually or be unnecessarily hurtful, but there are times when no is the best and in fact most Christlike answer.
Your additions, distinctions, and rebuttals are encouraged and appreciated in the comments section.
This song says, “Some of God’s greatest gifts are unanswered prayers.” Actually they are answered, I suppose, and the answer is no.
One of the more interesting and surprising images the Lord used for Himself was “thief.” There is an indirect reference to this in the first reading for Tuesday of the 22nd week of the year. I’ll comment more on that passage in a moment, but first here are some other texts in which He used this imagery:
But understand this: If the owner of the house had known at what time of night the thief was coming, he would have kept watch and would not have let his house be broken into. So you also must be ready, because the Son of Man will come at an hour when you do not expect him (Matt 24:33; Lk 12:39).
Remember, then, what you received and heard. Keep it, and repent. If you will not wake up, I will come like a thief, and you will not know at what hour I will come against you (Rev 3:3).
“Behold, I am coming like a thief! Blessed is the one who stays awake, keeping his garments on, that he may not go about naked and be seen exposed” (Rev 16:15).
St. Peter also used the image of a thief, but perhaps out of reverence for Christ, applied it more to the Day of Judgment.
But the day of the Lord will come like a thief, and then the heavens will pass away with a roar, and the heavenly bodies will be burned up and dissolved, and the earth and the works that are done on it will be exposed. (2 Peter 3:10).
In today’s first reading, which we will discuss in more detail, St. Paul used a similar image.
Now, brothers and sisters, about times and dates we do not need to write to you, for you know very well that the day of the Lord will come like a thief in the night. While people are saying, “Peace and safety,” destruction will come on them suddenly, as labor pains on a pregnant woman, and they will not escape. But you, brothers and sisters, are not in darkness so that this day should surprise you like a thief … let us be sober, putting on faith and love as a breastplate, and the hope of salvation as a helmet. For God did not appoint us to suffer wrath but to receive salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ (1 Thess 5:1-4; 8-9).
It is provocative and even shocking that Lord would compare Himself to a thief. Let’s consider some of the implications.
1. By this image the Lord turns the tables. Thievery suggests unjust possession. In this sense, the Lord is clearly not a thief; He is using a simile. He says that He is like a thief, not that He is a thief. Indeed, how can the owner of all things unjustly possess what is already His?
The impact and indictment of the reference is on us, not on the Lord. That He would seem to any of us to be like a thief is indicative of our injustice, not His. Too easily we forget that the things we call our own are God’s and God’s alone. We are stewards, not owners. When the Lord comes to take what is rightfully His—and has always been—we should be grateful to hand it back with interest (see the Parable of the Talents). To those who have forgotten that they are mere stewards, the Lord will seem to come to steal from them. They will see His coming as threatening because He will put an end to their schemes and worldly wealth.
Because they wrongly see these things as theirs, they will see Him as a thief—or worse, a robber. In the Parable of the Vineyard (Matthew 21:30ff) the Lord says that they will beat His prophets and even kill His Son. The injustice and crime is theirs. God cannot steal what He already owns. The vineyard was His and He rightly sought His portion. Murderously, they sought to withhold what they thought was theirs but in fact was not.
The Lord’s ways are justice and truth. God will take back all that is His. We will pay for what we have stolen through greed, injustice, selfishness, lust, and gluttony. To some who forget that He is the true owner of the vineyard, He may appear to be like a thief, but it is really we who are thieves. We will cry “Thief!” but the Lord will simply reply, “You are the man; it is you who have said it” (see 2 Sam 12:7; Matt 26:64).
2. By this image the Lord speaks to the hidden quality of His presence to some. In using the image of a thief (Κλέπτης (kleptes) in Greek) the Lord speaks of a stealthy, hidden presence. Thieves do their work in hiding or when we are unaware. A robber, on the other hand, confronts you, taking what he wants with violence while you can only watch helplessly.
The word thief here is indicative of the Lord’s hidden presence. The Lord is not a thief, but He seems like one to those who are forgetful of His presence. Don’t fool yourself, thinking that He is not in the house of your life; He sees and knows everything.
3. By this image the Lord puts to the lie the illusion of our own hiddenness. Thieves work in hiding. Many people who sin and misuse what the Lord owns often forget that to God, nothing is hidden. Thus they meet the definition of a thief because they attempt to take or misuse secretly what is not theirs to begin with.
God may seem hidden and distant, but He is not. He sees everything, knows everything, and is reckoning everything. Every “hidden” deed of ours is written in the book. An ancient hymn says,
Lo the Book exactly worded Wherein all has been recorded Thence shall judgment be awarded.
When the Judge his seat attaineth And each hidden deed arraigneth Nothing unavenged remaineth (Dies Irae).
God is watching and He is closer to you than you are to yourself.
4. By this image the Lord exhorts us to remember and to be ready. A recent break-in at my rectory motivated me and the staff to become more careful and vigilant. But why should the loss of passing goods cause us more concern than the certain arrival of the Lord, the true owner of all things? Although He may seem to come like a thief, He is not a thief. The real questions I should be asking myself are these: Am I a thief? Have I used what God owns in ways that are against His will or that displease Him? If so, He will come when I least expect it and take what I wrongfully think is mine. I may think Him a thief, but He is not. As true owner, He cannot unjustly possess what is already His.
We had better think about this now because the Lord is already in the house and His presence will be disclosed at any moment. Are you ready? Are you watching? Be vigilant. The Judge stands at the gate, but He has the key, not you.
Is He a thief? No. Are you a thief? Am I?
Epilogue: There came a moment in Jesus’ life when He was praying in the Garden of Gethsemane and Judas, who was a thief (see John 12:6), led a band of brigands to arrest Him. Stepping forward, Jesus turned the tables on them and said, “Have you come out as against a robber, with swords and clubs to capture me?” (Mk 14:48) Yes, He turned the tables on them and on the temple leaders who sponsored them. They saw Jesus as a usurper, as one who came to steal their priesthood and leadership. He was no thief, no robber. He was the great High Priest, the One who came to fulfill everything that they were supposed to be preaching. It was they who sought to kill him and unjustly possess the vineyard for themselves. To thieves, robbers, and murderers, Jesus was like a thief, but He was not. They were thieves—and even worse, robbers and murderers.
When Jesus says that He may be coming like a thief, be careful; He may be holding up a mirror to you!
Labor Day makes me mindful of our interconnectedness; we need one another in order to survive. Consider how we are each called to contribute as well as how we benefit from the labor of others:
Even that simple can of corn you pull from the grocery store shelf has thousands of people standing behind it: from those who stock the shelves to the truckers who transport the product to the store; from the regional warehouse workers to the rail operators who supply the warehouse; from the farmers and harvesters to the granary workers. Then there are others such as those who supply fertilizers that aid in growth and those who developed innumerable agricultural technologies over the years. People also labored to build the roads and rails over which the products travel. Others supply fuel for the trucks, combines, and locomotives. Coal miners work hard to supply the electricity needed all along the way. Still others in banking and business take risks and supply the funds to run agricultural, transportation, and food distribution businesses and networks. The list of people who have worked so that you and I can buy that can of corn at the store is almost endless.
Thanks be to God for human labor; we help each other to survive!
As today is Labor Day in the United States, it seems good to reflect on some teachings about human labor from the Catechism of the Catholic Church (CCC). In the list below, the text from the catechism is italicized while my comments appear in plain red text.
1. Human labor precedes Original Sin and hence is not an imposition due to sin but rather part of our original dignity.
God places [Man] in the garden. There he lives “to till it and keep it.” Work is not yet a burden, but rather the collaboration of man and woman with God in perfecting the visible creation (CCC #378).
Note that our dignity is that we are to work with God to perfect creation. Adam and Eve were told by God to fill the earth and subdue it (Gen 1:28). Radical environmentalism often presents a far more negative view of humanity’s interaction with the environment. While we have not always done well in treating the environment, it is wrong to think of the created world as better without humanity’s presence. Rather, it is our dignity to work with God in perfecting nature. Note also the description of work as not burdensome prior to the advent of sin. Man and woman did have work to do, but it was not experienced as a burden. Only after Original Sin did work come to be perceived in this way: Eve would bring forth her children in pain and Adam would only get his food by the “sweat of his brow” (Gen 3:16, 19).
2. Human work is a duty and prolongs the work of creation.
Human work proceeds directly from persons created in the image of God and called to prolong the work of creation by subduing the earth, both with and for one another. Hence work is a duty: “If anyone will not work, let him not eat” [2 Thess 3:10]. Work honors the Creator’s gifts and the talents received from him (CCC #2427).
See again the emphasis on our dignity as collaborators with God in the work of creation and in perfecting what God has begun! Not everyone can work in the same way. Age and handicap may limit a person’s ability to perform manual labor. Further, talents and state in life tend to focus one’s work in specific areas. All, however, are called to work in some way. Even the bedridden can pray and offer their suffering for the good of others.
3. Work can be sanctifying and redemptive.
[Work] can also be redemptive. By enduring the hardship of work in union with Jesus, the carpenter of Nazareth and the one crucified on Calvary, man collaborates in a certain fashion with the Son of God in his redemptive work. He shows himself to be a disciple of Christ by carrying the cross, daily, in the work he is called to accomplish. Work can be a means of sanctification and a way of animating earthly realities with the Spirit of Christ (CCC #2427).
In his mercy God has not forsaken sinful man. The punishments consequent upon sin, “pain in childbearing” and toil “in the sweat of your brow,” also embody remedies that limit the damaging effects of sin (CCC # 1609).
Sin has brought upon us many weaknesses and selfish tendencies. Work can serve as a remedy through which we are strengthened unto discipline, contribution to the common good, and cooperation with others in attaining good ends.
4. Work is an acceptable sacrifice to God.
[The] laity, dedicated as they are to Christ and anointed by the Holy Spirit, are marvelously called and prepared so that even richer fruits of the Spirit maybe produced in them. For all their works, prayers, and apostolic undertakings, family and married life, daily work, relaxation of mind and body, if they are accomplished in the Spirit—indeed even the hardships of life if patiently borne—all these become spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ. In the celebration of the Eucharist these may most fittingly be offered to the Father along with the body of the Lord (CCC # 901).
5. To work is to participate in the common good.
Participation [in the common good] is achieved first of all by taking charge of the areas for which one assumes personal responsibility: by the care taken for the education of his family, by conscientious work, and so forth, man participates in the good of others and of society (CCC # 1914).
We work not only to benefit ourselves but also to contribute to the good of others and society in general. We do this first by caring for our own needs to the extent possible, thus not burdening others unnecessarily. We also contribute to the common good by supplying our talent and work in such a way as to contribute to the overall availability of goods and services in the community. We supply our human talent and the fruits of our labor to others, while at the same time purchasing the goods and services of others.
The key word seems to be “dignity.” Human work proceeds from our dignity as collaborators with God in perfecting and completing the work of creation. Everyone can work and should do so in the ways possible for him or her, not merely out of a sense of duty but also because it is the essence of dignity.
To return to our opening theme, here are some lyrics from the song “I Need You to Survive”:
I need you, you need me.
…
It is God’s will that every need be supplied.
You are important to me, I need you to survive.
In Sunday’s Gospel the Lord firmly sets before us the need for the cross, not as an end in itself, but as the way to glory. Let’s consider the Gospel in three stages.
I. The Pattern that is Announced – The text says, Jesus began to show his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and suffer greatly from the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed and on the third day be raised.
The Lord announces not only the Cross but also the Resurrection. In effect, He announces the pattern of the Christian life, which we have come to call the “Paschal Mystery.”
The expression “Paschal Mystery” refers to the suffering, death, resurrection, and glorification of Jesus as a whole. The word “Paschal” is related to the Hebrew word for Passover, “Pesach.” Just as the shed blood of a lamb saved the people from the angel of death and signaled their deliverance, so does Jesus’ death, his Blood, save us from death and deliver us from slavery to sin.
So He is announcing a pattern: the Cross leads somewhere; it accomplishes something. It is not an end in itself; it has a purpose; it is part of a pattern.
St. Paul articulates the pattern of the Paschal Mystery in this way:We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body (2 Cor 4:10). It is like an upward spiral in which the cross brings blessings we enjoy. We often circle back to the crosses God permits, but then there come even greater blessings and higher capacities. Cross, growth, cross, growth—so the pattern continues until we reach the end, dying with Christ so as to live with Him.
This is the pattern of our life. We are dying to our old self, to this world, to our sins; but rising to new life, rising to the Kingdom of God and becoming victorious over sin. The cross brings life; it is a prelude to growth. We die in order to live more richly. An old spiritual says of this repeated pattern that “every round goes higher, higher.”
Do you see the pattern that Jesus announces? Neither the Lord not the Church announces the cross so as to burden us. No, the cross is part of a pattern that, if accepted with faith, brings blessing, new life, and greater strength.
II. The Prevention that is Attempted – The text says, Then Peter took Jesus aside and began to rebuke him, “God forbid, Lord! No such thing shall ever happen to you.” He turned and said to Peter, “Get behind me, Satan! You are an obstacle to me. You are thinking not as God does, but as human beings do.”
Notice Peter’s exact wording: “No such thing shall ever happen to you.” We ought to ask, “What such thing?” Peter, in precluding that Jesus suffer and die, also implicitly blocks the rising and glorification of Jesus, for Christ cannot rise unless He dies.
Peter, of course, is not thinking this all the way through—but neither do we when we seek to avoid crosses for ourselves or to hinder others improperly from accepting their crosses. The cross brings glory and growth; we run the risk of depriving ourselves and others of these if we rush to eliminate all the demands and difficulties of life. We may do this through enabling behaviors or perhaps by spoiling our children.
We also hinder our own growth by refusing to accept the crosses of self-discipline, hard work, obedience, suffering, consequences, limits, and resistance of temptation. In rejecting the cross we also reject its fruits.
All of this serves to explain Jesus’ severe reaction to Peter’s words. He even goes so far as to call Peter, “Satan,” for it pertains to Satan to pretend to befriend us in protesting our crosses while really just wanting to thwart our blessings. Peter may not know what he is doing, but Satan does—he seeks to become an obstacle to Jesus’ work.
Jesus’ severe reaction is rooted in protecting our blessings.
III. The Prescription that is Awarding – Jesus goes on to teach further on the wisdom of and the need for the cross. The text says, Then Jesus said to his disciples, “Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me. For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it. What profit would there be for one to gain the whole world and forfeit his life? Or what can one give in exchange for his life? For the Son of Man will come with his angels in his Father’s glory, and then he will repay all according to his conduct.”
The heart of Jesus’ teaching here is the deep paradox that in order to find our life we must lose it. More specifically, in order to gain Heaven, we must die to this world. That dying is a process more so than just an event at the end of our physical life here. Although we cling to life in this world, it is really not life at all. It is a mere spark compared to the fire of love that God offers; it is a single note compared to the great symphony God directs.
Jesus instructs us to be willing to exchange this tiny, dying life for that which is true life. The Lord says that whatever small blessings come from clinging to this life and this world are really no benefit at all.
Of course what the world’s cheap trinkets offer is immediate gratification and evasion of the cross. We may feel relief for a moment, but our growth is stunted and those cheap little trinkets slip through our fingers. We gain the world (cheap little trinket that it is) but lose our souls. It’s a total loss, or to use a modern expression, it’s a FAIL!
Jesus’ final words, however, remind us that the choice is ours. The day will come when He will respond to our choice. Either we accept true life and win or we choose the passing, dying life of this world and lose.
This song speaks of life as a kind of spiraling climb between cross and glory. As the spiritual says, “Every round goes higher, higher, soldiers of the Cross.”
Addendum:
Hedonism– This is the doctrine that pleasure or happiness is the sole or chief good in life. It comes from the Greek word hēdonē, meaning “pleasure” and is akin to the Greek hēdys, meaning “sweet.”
Of course pleasure is to be desired and to some degree sought, but it is not the only good in life. Indeed, some of our greatest goods and accomplishments require sacrifice: years of study and preparation for a career; the blood, sweat, and tears of raising children.
Hedonism seeks to avoid sacrifice and suffering at all costs. It is directly opposed to the theology of the Cross. St. Paul spoke in his day of the enemies of the cross of Christ. Their end is destruction, their god is the belly, and they glory in their shame, with minds set on earthly things (Php 3:18–19). He also taught that the cross was an absurdity to the Gentiles (1 Cor 1:23).
Things have not changed, my friends. The world reacts with great indignation whenever the cross or suffering is even implied. So the world will cry out with bewildered exasperation and ask incredulously of the Church, are you saying that a woman who was raped must carry the child to term and cannot abort? Yes, we are. Are you saying that a “gay” person must live celibately and may never “marry” his or her same-sex lover? Yes, we are. Are you saying that a handicapped child in the womb must be “condemned” to live in the world and cannot be aborted and put out of his (more accurately our) “misery”? Yes, we are. Are you saying that a suffering person cannot be euthanized to avoid the pain? Yes, we are.
The shock expressed in these sorts of questions shows how deeply hedonism has infected the modern mind. The concept of the cross is not only absurd, it is downright “immoral” in the hedonist mentality, which sees pleasure as the only true human good. To the hedonist, a life without enough pleasure is a life not worth living, and anyone who would seek to set limits on the lawful (and sometime unlawful) pleasures of others is mean, hateful, absurd, obtuse, intolerant, and just plain evil.
When pleasure is life’s only goal or good, how dare you, or the Church, or anyone seek to set limits on it let alone suggest that the way of the cross is better or required! You must be banished, silenced, and destroyed.
Many faithful Catholics in the pews are deeply infected with the illusion of hedonism and thus take up the voice of bewilderment, anger, and scoffing whenever the Church points to the cross and insists on self-denial, sacrifice, and doing the right thing even when the cost is great. The head wagging in congregations is often visible if a priest dares to preach that abortion, euthanasia, in vitro fertilization, and contraception are wrong regardless of the cost, or if he speaks about the reality of the cross. The faithful who swim in the waters of a hedonistic culture are often shocked at anything that might limit the pleasure that others want to pursue.
Hedonism makes the central Christian mysteries of the cross and redemptive suffering seem like something from a distant planet or a parallel and strange universe. The opening word from Jesus’ mouth, “Repent,” seems strange to the hedonistic world, which has even reconstructed Jesus Himself to be someone who just wants us to be happy and content. The cry goes up, even among the faithful, doesn’t God want me to be happy? On this basis, all kinds of sinful behavior is supposed to be tolerated because insisting on the opposite is “hard” and because it seems “mean” to speak of the cross or of self-discipline in a hedonistic culture.
Bringing people back to the real Jesus and to the real message of the Gospel, which features the cross as the way to glory, takes a lot of work and a long conversation. We must be prepared to engage in that extended conversation with people.
On this “World Day of Creation” we ponder the glory and power of God in what he has made. One of the painful paradoxes of our time is that our scientific insights have increased unbelief rather than belief. Perhaps as never before we have come to know the astonishing interplay of creation at every level. From the smallest parts of atoms to the farthest reaches of space, from the complex interactions within cells to the almost perfect sweep of earth’s orbit, everything seems gloriously orchestrated so that we can live and grow. Even in the upheavals of storms, such as we have recently experienced, and other natural disasters, God and creation are often up to something good.
Just a simple thing like photosynthesis silently serves life. Plants take in the carbon dioxide we exhale and return the oxygen we need. Beneath us, the earth is a cauldron that occasionally shakes or erupts, but those very eruptions release gases that help sustain our atmosphere. Earth’s orbit is nearly circular; the distance between the Earth and the Sun differs only by about 3 percent between its closest and farthest points. This relatively constant position moderates our temperature. This is in contrast to the other planets in our solar system, whose elliptical orbits are far more eccentric. The moon beautifully regulates our tides. The asteroid belt keeps the dangerous chunks from regularly raining down on our planet; Jupiter and Saturn are catching comets as well. I could go on, but at every level—inner space, the ecosystem, and outer space—everything works together in a beautiful symphony.
There is an old spiritual that says, “Over my head I hear music in the air, there must be a God somewhere.”
The whole universe shouts, I was designed and I am governed!
Recently I put together a video for use in a Bible study I was conducting. The song that is used speaks beautifully to the testimony of creation to its Creator:
The spacious firmament on high,
with all the blue ethereal sky,
and spangled heavens, a shining frame,
their great Original proclaim.
The unwearied sun from day to day
does his Creator’s power display,
and publishes to every land
the work of an almighty hand.
Soon as the evening shades prevail
the moon takes up the wondrous tale,
and nightly to the listening earth
repeats the story of her birth;
whilst all the stars that round her burn,
and all the planets in their turn,
confirm the tidings, as they roll,
and spread the truth from pole to pole.
What though in solemn silence all
move round the dark terrestrial ball;
what though nor real voice nor sound
amid their radiant orbs be found;
in reason’s ear they all rejoice,
and utter forth a glorious voice,
forever singing as they shine,
“The hand that made us is divine.”
It’s the end of August; not so long ago this was still a lazy time to enjoy the last few days of summer. It used to be that Labor Day marked the unofficial end of summer — not so any more.
The erosion of summer is driven mainly by the start of school. I have watched with sadness as the school year seems to begin earlier and earlier and earlier. In the Washington, D.C. area, some schools have been open for more than a week already. College classes start even earlier, early August in some cases; and new students who need an “orientation” generally arrive on campus even before the general student population.
What’s the big rush? Why are some people in such a big hurry to get back to the grind? Families have so little time to spend time together as it is! I hope that the concerns I express today will be seen as having spiritual components and not just as the complaints of an old curmudgeon.
The purpose of rest, both the Sabbath rest and vacation, is to enjoy the fruit of our labors. We should work to live; many today live to work. What is the point of having a livelihood if we never get the time to enjoy life? God commanded the Sabbath for many reasons, but among them was justice. He set forth a particular day of the week (Saturday) as well as other times (feasts) when work was forbidden so that all could rest. Without the collective agreement and commandment (under pain of sin), the rich get time off but the poor must still work to facilitate the leisure of the rich. God set forth a system that sought to prevent that injustice. All, including slaves and even beasts of burden, were to refrain from all but the most necessary work.
In our culture, Sunday has been the day of rest. Most who have better paying jobs get that day off. Before 1970, even the poor typically had Sundays off because most retail establishments were closed. Today, for our convenience, lower-paid store workers and restaurant staff must work.
It is the same with holidays and holy days. It used to be that days like Christmas, Good Friday, and Thanksgiving were days off for just about everyone. Non-essential operations were generally closed.
Today almost nothing — no day, no time — is sacred. Market demand and the need to get ahead of the competition drive this. Work, work, work; compete and strive to win. It is usually the poorest among us, however, who pay the greatest price for this.
Families also suffer; time together has steadily eroded over the years. The tradition of eating evening and weekend meals is all but gone. Sunday and holiday gatherings seem to be shorter and more perfunctory—if they occur at all. Summer itself is now on the chopping block. Churches are affected because the window in which we have to conduct summer festivals and Vacation Bible school is more limited.
I have been given numerous explanations as to why schools are champing at the bit to begin the year.
School officials (in both secular and Catholic schools) tell me that many parents are delighted that their children are back in school earlier, thus freeing them to do other things rather than minding the children. But what does that tell you about the vision of family life today? Shouldn’t families want extended time to vacation together and to engage in other local activities, Church offerings, and so forth? Shouldn’t parents enjoy spending time with their children? Shouldn’t they want to use the extra time in the summer to form them? Do parents have children merely to send them off to school, happy to be rid of them for a few hours? I hope not. I know that we all get a little tired, but I find it alarming that parents would be as eager for school to start as school officials insist is the case.
I am told that teachers require more days for professional development, thus forcing schools to open earlier in the year and/or close later in order to meet the required minimum number of days of student instruction. But professional days and ongoing certification have always been necessary. My mother was a teacher for over twenty years and teachers had professional days and took certification courses (mainly in the summer) back then. Teachers already have two and a half months away from classes. That’s a lot more vacation than most of the rest of us have. Is there a reason that teachers could not have most of June and July off and then return at the beginning of August for these sorts of things? If schools opened after Labor Day that would still give them more than a month for these activities.
Further I would argue that the impact of such a system is not a good one. It sets up a “death by a thousand cuts” throughout the school year as half-days, teacher in-service days, and professional days seem to eat into most weeks of the school year. In some school systems nearly every Friday is a half day for one reason or another. Working parents must juggle schedules all year long, not just in the summer when vacations are already common. Schools even collect a lot extra money running “aftercare” programs on those half-days of classes. Parents are not only deprived of time with their children, but they are pressured financially as well.
The school system is supposed to serve children, parents, and families, but it seems instead that the school systems have started ruling our lives and dictating our schedules. Even in Catholic and other private schools, parents who are already struggling just to afford the tuition must now also pay for additional childcare on those days when school is not in session or closes early.
My final concern is that school schedules carving away more and more of the summer from family time means that the formation of children shifts from the families to the schools. Is that really what we want? I would hope that parents would want to play the most significant role in forming their children. Parents should ask themselves if they want to raise their children or increasingly hand that task over to strangers. Sadly, as we all can see, many schools have become less and less places of teaching basic academic skills and more and more places of indoctrination into values that are often inimical to Catholic and biblical teachings. Although there are exceptions, the infiltration of secular and immoral ideologies into the curriculum has made major inroads in public schools.
I recommend we attack this problem by starting simply. Can we at least have the month of August back? How about an agreement not begin school until the Tuesday after Labor Day? It’s just a little thing, but the steady erosion of rest, family time, Church time, and “downtime” has taken a toll on our society in many ways. Here’s to summer … all of it!
The tragic Gospel passage about the death of St. John Baptist (which we read in daily Mass on Tuesday) is a study in two common sins that afflict most of us. While the results of these sinful tendencies may not always be this dire, the damage wrought is often significant. Let’s take a look at each in turn.
The sin of human respect – This is a sin wherein we fear human beings and their opinions of us more than we fear God and what He thinks of us.
John had said to Herod, “It is not lawful for you to have your brother’s wife.” Herodias harbored a grudge against him and wanted to kill him but she was unable to do so. Herod feared John, knowing him to be a righteous and holy man, and kept him in custody. When he heard him speak he was very much perplexed, yet he liked to listen to him. She had an opportunity one day when Herod, on his birthday, gave a banquet for his courtiers, his military officers, and the leading men of Galilee. Herodias’ own daughter came in and performed a dance that delighted Herod and his guests. The king said to the girl, “Ask of me whatever you wish and I will grant it to you.” He even swore many things to her, “I will grant you whatever you ask of me, even to half of my kingdom.” … She replied … “I want you to give me at once on a platter the head of John the Baptist.” The king was deeply distressed, but because of his oaths and the guests he did not wish to break his word to her. So he promptly dispatched an executioner with orders to bring back his head (Mark 6:18-27).
The key insight from this passage is that Herod Antipas (not Herod the Great, who was dead by this time), knew in his conscience that he was wrong and that what John the Baptist had said was right. He was living in an adulterous and legally incestuous relationship with Herodias, his “wife” but who was actually the wife of his brother Philip. Herod was disturbed by what John had said to him and John’s words also harmonized with the voice of God deep within him. Herod’s first sin was fearing Herodias’ wrath more than God’s righteous judgement. Because of this, he imprisoned John.
Herod then made things worse at a critical moment when his “wife,” through her daughter, demanded an evil thing: murder. Herod was deeply troubled by the request, knowing it to be wrong. But again, because he feared the opinion of his guests, Herodias, and her daughter, Herod consented to this evil act and had John beheaded. Herod feared man (his guests, Herodias, her daughter) more than God. This is the sin of human respect.
I have written more on that sin here: What Is the Sin of Human Respect?For today’s reflection, however, simply note that this is a widespread human problem. It is amazing how afraid we are. Our fear is not so much of physical danger, but rather of being ridiculed, scorned, or rejected by others. Many people will do almost anything to be liked, to be esteemed, and to “belong.” A great many of our sins spring from this desperate “need” to please and to be respected by others. Meanwhile, we marginalize the Lord; His truth is suppressed or ignored and the reality that He alone will judge us one day is conveniently forgotten. This is the sin of human respect.
One might think that Herod, a powerful king, would not have been very concerned by what people thought of him. But how did he rise to such a position? Most likely by making compromises, ingratiating himself to others, and conforming to what was politic and prudent in a cunning and worldly way. One who spends his life doing such things does not suddenly find a spine. So Herod heard the voice of God in his conscience, but feared human beings even more.
The sin of “harboring a grudge”
John had said to Herod, “It is not lawful for you to have your brother’s wife.” And so, Herodias harbored a grudge against him and wanted to kill him but was unable to do so (Mk 6:18-19).
Sadly, harboring grudges is a common problem for us. If not addressed, a grudge (which is a form of hatred or wrath) grows like a cancer.
The Greek text describes Herodias as ἐνεῖχεν αὐτῷ (eneichen auto). The Greek root enecho means “to hold in.” Auto is an intensifying pronoun. Thus, a rather literal translation is that Herodias “held in, within her deepest self” an anger against John. A Latin expression for having a grudge is estuans interius ira vehementi, which means “to be seething inside with destructive anger.”
Yes, Herodias was harboring a grudge, nursing wrath until the day when she could exact her revenge. Her simmering wrath grew until it burst forth in a murderous rage.
We have all harbored grudges against others, often as a response to having been hurt. Many stifle their rage just beneath the surface and continue to feed it. Though it robs them of internal peace, they somehow feel righteous in doing so, thinking that it honors the pain they have experienced in some strange way. In nursing this grudge, they encourage it to grow and draw energy from other more profitable human activity. They lie in wait for an opportunity to wound the one who hurt them, whether in small or large ways. It can even lead to wishing the other dead or to violent acts. Communities, families, races, and nations harbor grudges, too. The horrifying effects are seen in hatred, violence, war, and genocide.
Sometimes we are the victims of grudges. Others seem to hate us without cause. What was an unintentional offense, a misunderstanding, or a simple disagreement is wrathfully held by another who will not let go. No amount of clarification or even an apology will suffice.
Identity politics and the sharp political and ideological divisions of our time also contribute to a “take no prisoners” mentality, rooted in grudges and exceptionally harsh criticism.
One of the solutions to this tendency is to strive to cast our cares on God. If we have been hurt in some way, especially if we think it undeserved, God asks us to give it to Him. In effect He says, “I saw everything that happened. Give me your pain. I promise that if the person who hurt you dies unrepentant, he will answer to me for what he has done. Lay down your anger now and give it to me. I will carry it. I know where the truth lies” (see Rom 12:19, inter al).
Therefore, we should neither harbor grudges nor be too angry with those who harbor grudges against us. Give it all to God. Be free of the wrath of holding a grudge. Harboring a grudge or being unforgiving is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die.
To be discreet most commonly means to be careful, prudent, or circumspect, especially in terms of speech. The word discreet comes from Latin discretus, meaning separate or distinct. To be discreet is not to be secretive; it is to make a prudent discernment about what to say to whom and when to say it. Personal, private conversations ought to stay that way.
