Twenty-Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time

The parable of the prodigal son is a classic parable that so often is simply dismissed as "yeah, I know that story." This weekend the Church presents us with the parable again, and provides an opportunity to listen again.

Then familial seen is a key part - two brothers and a (supposedly) elderly father. The youngest son asks for an inheritance, akin to asking his father to simply die. The father freely gives it. The son takes off, squandering his gift, and ending in the last place a good Jewish boy should be - feeding swine, and longing for their food. Coming to his senses, he returns home with a planned apology.

The Father, however, is waiting for him, and seeing him rushes out and asks that the his servants restore his son's dignity and rank. They throw a party. Meanwhile the older and more 'dutiful' son returns to hear the party. Standing outside, he refuses to go into the party. The father again goes out and speaks with him. He is left the choice - either he can stay outside in the dark, or he can go in and celebrate.

Isn't it amazing - one son wandered and lost everything, but came back. The other son stayed and thinking his father a harsh man, did not ask him for anything, and was more distant from his father than his younger sibling.

That is the point for us. When we respond to God's call, are we in reality distant and out of relationship to God? Have we wandered and allowed God to embrace us in His love and restore us to our original dignity which we last in our sinful wandering? Are we able to let God lavish His love on us, letting him be the truly prodigal One?

Twenty-Third Sunday in Ordinary Time

No one can follow Christ without first counting the cost, and then willing to sacrifice that for the sake of the kingdom. We need to be aware of what we leave behind in order to truly leave it, in order to be detached. This is the 'hard to translate' meaning of the word that we have here with "hate". It is not that we actively hate, despise, and hold in contempt parents, siblings, spouse, and children, but that we have a healthy detachment from them, that we see them as second to our own response to Christ. In fact, with Christ leading, many have found holiness in serving their families.

Our own Cross is Christ's individual call to each one of us. Our cross is our vocation, not a thing of torture, but rather a means of transformation, that will lead us outside ourselves to live for Him, and as such to serve others. Are we willing to let all else go?

Twenty-Second Sunday in Ordinary Time

Jesus gives us the rules of Christian etiquette, especially when attending weddings and banquets, in today's Gospel passage. He tells those gathered for the feast to take the lower places at the table versus the seats of honor. He noticed the guests clamoring for the positions. We should be humble enough to take a lower seat, to think of ourselves as less. If the host wishes, he or she can invite us to move up to a place of honor.

But Jesus also teaches that one one has a celebration, one should not expect to be returned, in fact the guest list should be filled with those that would not be able to return the favor. Again, this takes humility to be able to invite people for who they are, not for what they can do for us.

Those considering a vocation to the priesthood or consecrated life need to reflect on this need for humility, to know one's true status. We should be empty of our own clamoring for honor, and instead be aware of our duty. We should be able to 'socialize' with the weak, disabled, and poor. We are to serve those in need, not those who can met our needs. Nothing is more evil than a would-be servant of God that seeks accolades and social status, especially at the expense of meeting the needs of those who are 'little'. It is more righteous to be humble and to serve without expecting return.

Twenty-first Sunday in Ordinary Time

We hear the terrifying parable of the Master of the house who refuses to open for those knocking on his door at the late hours. They tell him that they know him, that they ate and drank with him and followed him in the streets. But the master responds that he does not know them, and where they are from. They are left outside in the dark, rejected as complete strangers.

It is a terrifying thought, isn't it? We can assume that because we know Jesus, that is all that is needed for salvation. But there is no such thing as salvation by association. We are not saved by a simple knowledge of who Jesus Christ is, or even spending time in the company of the disciples. We need to be known by Him, too. Of course, while it is true that God knows all His creatures, this is different. The key comes in Jesus' setup of the parable - He tells the disciples to strive to enter the narrow gate - they are to work for the good, of course cooperating with God's grace in their lives. We not only need to follow Him in the streets, in the public places of our lives, but follow Him into his home, into the private recesses of our hearts where God longs to set up residence. Our reception of the Eucharist is an invitation for Christ to come in, and for us to live in communion with Him more deeply. It is an opportunity for Christ to know us through and through, by our sharing in His Body and Blood.

No, there is no salvation by association. We must be known by Christ, and we must do His will. We must, therefore, pray constantly, but not in a steady barrage of words from us to Him, begging for Him to open up to us, but rather prayer that opens us up to Him, to his gentle probing as we read in Psalm 139, our receiving His words to us. We must then respond to His will, following Him where ever He leads.

Twentieth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Recently, we have been led to believe that Jesus would never have done anything to upset people's 'peace'. It is as if Jesus' only mission was to proclaim a message of peace and love, without anything like sacrifice or struggle. An unfortunate side effect of his message is that warring people put him to death. So often, this 'peace' is defined as a state of getting along, allowing others the 'freedom' to sin. They fail to see that Jesus is the Son of God, the Word made flesh.

What we read in the Gospel passage this weekend should confuse those who mave such a mistaken view of Jesus Christ. We read that Jesus came to bring fire and division. He states that his mission was not to bring peace (perhaps the only minorly upset status quo). We know that Jesus was upset the dove cart and turn a few money tables. Yet, he is called the Prince of Peace.

Perhaps that is not the world's understanding of peace that Jesus brings! After all, in the Hebrew understanding shalom - peace - is not the mere absense of war or a plodding along. It is a state of complete harmony, when all things are in their place and proper proportions. This peace the result of a life lived with God, lived in the fire of the Holy Trinity's love for us, of knowing that we are pilgrims and sojourners in this world. But we know that there are some who choose not to live with Christ. How can they not be separated and divided from those that do. There will be divisions from those who are not 'on-fire' for God. This we can expect. That being the case, this does not give us permission to take up the sword. No, we strive in the same way to bring the Fire of Christ to the lost, including members of our families. While we may not experience the passing peace of the world, we will know the love of God which brings the true and eternal peace. While there will be division of those that follow Christ and those that do not, those that truly follow Christ will know true peace.

Priests can easily fall into the trap of wanting to maintain 'peace', instead of bringing the peace of Christ even if that means division of the sheep and wolves. But this will fail. We must be bearers of fire, lighting the world for Christ. We are called to spread the flames!

Pope Benedict and his Meeting with the clergy

I encouarage anyone discerning a priestly vocation to look at the recent document of the Pope's session with the clergy of the Dioceses of Belluno-Feltre and Treviso. Some of the questions and answers are very poignant and directly applicable to our status in the states.

Pastoral Care as the "Et et"

In a post at Whispers in the Loggia "The Great 'Et Et'", Rocco quotes a session of His Holiness Pope Benedict answering questions of priests held while the Pope was on vacation. In a beautifully answered question, His Holiness synthesises Catholism.

I am Fr Lorenzo, a parish priest. Holy Father, the faithful expect only one thing from priests: that they be experts in encouraging the encounter of human beings with God. These are not my own words but something Your Holiness said in an Address to the clergy. My spiritual director at the seminary, in those trying sessions of spiritual direction, said to me: "Lorenzino, humanly we've made it, but...", and when he said "but", what he meant was that I preferred playing football to Eucharistic Adoration. And he meant that this did my vocation no good and that it was not right to dispute lessons of morals and law, because the teachers knew more about them that I did. And with that "but", who knows what else he meant. I now think of him in Heaven, and in any case I say some requiems for him. In spite of everything, I have been a priest for 34 years and I am happy about that, too. I have worked no miracles nor have I known any disasters or perhaps I did not recognize them. I feel that "humanly we've made it" is a great compliment. However, does not bringing man close to God and God to man pass above all through what we call humanity, which is indispensable even for us priests?

Benedict XVI: Thank you. I would simply say "yes" to what you said at the end. Catholicism, somewhat simplistically, has always been considered the religion of the great "et et" ["both-and"]: not of great forms of exclusivism but of synthesis. The exact meaning of "Catholic" is "synthesis". I would therefore be against having to choose between either playing football or studying Sacred Scripture or Canon Law. Let us do both these things. It is great to do sports. I am not a great sportsman, yet I used to like going to the mountains when I was younger; now I only go on some very easy excursions, but I always find it very beautiful to walk here in this wonderful earth that the Lord has given to us. Therefore, we cannot always live in exalted meditation; perhaps a Saint on the last step of his earthly pilgrimage could reach this point, but we normally live with our feet on the ground and our eyes turned to Heaven. Both these things are given to us by the Lord and therefore loving human things, loving the beauties of this earth, is not only very human but also very Christian and truly Catholic. I would say - and it seems to me that I have already mentioned this earlier - that this aspect is also part of a good and truly Catholic pastoral care: living in the "et et"; living the humanity and humanism of the human being, all the gifts which the Lord has lavished upon us and which we have developed; and at the same time, not forgetting God, because ultimately, the great light comes from God and then it is only from him that comes the light which gives joy to all these aspects of the things that exist. Therefore, I would simply like to commit myself to the great Catholic synthesis, to this "et et"; to be truly human. And each person, in accordance with his or her own gifts and charism, should not only love the earth and the beautiful things the Lord has given us, but also be grateful because God's light shines on earth and bathes everything in splendour and beauty. In this regard, let us live catholicity joyfully. This would be my answer.