Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time

The Pharisee and the Publican could equally be understood as the braggart and the beggar... The pharisee is in front, boasting to God all the good that he has done, and while that in itself is interesting, it is how he refers to himself as the primary source of action and God as a witness. It is all about him.

The Tax Collector (or Publican as some call it), begs for mercy. He is focused on God, open to His mercy. He makes himself small, and even keeps distant, not out of fear, but out of humility.

Jesus tells the parable to demonstrate the proper attitude of His followers. Those no exalt themselves leave little room for the All-powerful God to save them. Those who humble themselves, who throw themselves on the mercy of God are profoundly open to Him and His salvation.

In discerning one's vocation, we must become humble enough to allow God to speak and work. By telling God what we want, what we are good at, is on the verge of bragging. By asking God to help us, we submit to His power and can hear Him calling.

Twenty-Ninth Sunday in Ordinary Time

We are asked to be persistent in prayer, not because God does not hear or is unjust, but to show our faith. The persistent widow in the parable we hear has her request heard not because of the goodness of the judge (who had little) but by being persistent. God is good, just, and loving - how much more will He respond.

Just as Moses grew tired during the battle, so too do we. Aaron and Hur provide the back up for him - they allow him to sit and they hold his arms aloft. At times, when we are worn by our praying, we should invite others to help us, to hold our arms in a spiritual way.

Even still, we can grow weary by our distractions. In my prayer, I find the distractions fall into three categories: Grocery Lists, To Do Lists, and Injury lists. With the grocery lists, I find my mind wandering to all the things I need or want. I could easily fill out a long list, but find the best way to deal with these distractions is to acknowledge them and set them behind me. The To Do lists things are more tempting - if I am not in a right place, I could easily get up and do them immediately. I find it best to ask God for the grace (and strength and stamina) to deal with them after my prayer. The Injury list, though, is the most destructive. With these distractions, I find my mind wandering to all the past hurts and people who have caused them, as well as the injuries I have caused others. With the perceived injuries, it is dangerously easy to allow them to take over and suddenly find myself brooding over them and to the brink of cursing. Instead, I find I ned to pray over the hurts, to invite Christ into them and to bring healing. When a person comes to mind, prayer for the individual, even if it is for the ability to forgive, brings my mind back to prayer.

Satan would love us to grow weary, to follow the distractions, and cease our prayer. God, however, constantly invites us back into the prayer. But we must do our part - to pray, and to keep faith.

Twenty-Eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time

The healing of the ten lepers is usually reduced to some statement on only 10% being grateful, but there is more to the episode than that.

This weekend, it is paired with the episode of Naaman, an Aramean commander, who is a leper himself (2 Kings 5). Having had success at battle, he is losing the battle for his health because of this contagious disease. He is told of Elisha, the Jewish Prophet, and desires to go. Elisha tells him to plunge into the River Jordan. Naaman did not wish to hear it - there are better rivers than the Jordan closer to home. Naaman's servant persuades him, and he takes the plunge. Coming out, he is clean. While he does return to Elisha to thank him, the real reason is to express his new-found faith in the God of Israel. When Elisha refuses the gift, Naaman asks for two wagons of dirt so that he can worship God on holy ground! (Perhaps this might be considered for those that are opposed to relics!)

It is interesting to note that this is the only healing miracle for more than one. While all ten were healed, the other nine perhaps felt compelled to go to the temple to be declared 'clean' before returning. The Samaritan that returns does so not to simply thank Jesus, but to worship and glorify God. There is a profound difference there! He is an outsider to the Jewish faith, and while he had no legal right to even walk into the temple area, he did understand that it was God who healed him.

It is good to be thankful, but in the end, these episodes tell us that it is worship of God is most important. Perhaps we can take a lesson from Naaman, too. It would be easy to overlook the simple commands of the prophets among us. Perhaps we should be willing to do the simple things and in doing so, as we heard last week, discover God's will for our lives.

Twenty-Seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time

The Disciples ask the Lord to increase their faith, and Jesus responds with if they had faith the size of a mustard seed, they could say to mountains, move, and they would listen. I lack that kind of faith. But Jesus does not stop there. He moves on, though, telling them that they are to be like good servants who await their master's command, and having fulfilled the command, knowing where they stand.

So it is for us. So often, we ask for the faith to move mountains and ignore the command to "move dishes". We focus on the big things, when we are equally called to be faithful to small things, responding to the little things that we know God is calling us to do. By doing these, by moving step by step, we can do great things.

In this weekend's second reading, we hear St. Paul telling the young Bishop St. Timothy to stir into flame the gift of God he received through the imposition of hands - his ordination. The gift is the Spirit of God that is one of power, love and self control. Again, it is in the littleness of things, in the response to God, that this is lived out.

Twenty-SIx Sunday in Ordinary Time

This weekend, we hear the parable of the Rich man and Lazarus. This, by the way, is the only parable that Jesus tells that has a character named, and perhaps that name is the key to opening the mind to understand. Lazarus means "God is my Help", and beside God, who helped this poor man? The dogs licked his wounds, but the rich man would not even recognize him and his dignity. In death, Jesus suggests that he wasn't even buried - just that he was taken to the bosom of Abraham - the image of heaven akin to our understanding of St. Peter! There, he is comforted.

The rich man dies and is buried, and is sent to hell. From there, he starts to make demands, finally recognizing Lazarus. He asks that Lazarus be sent into the heat of hell to quench his parched thirst. But the chasm between heaven and hell is too wide. The rich man persists - send him to my family, that they may be warned. Abraham responds that they should know - after all, they have the Law and the Prophets. The rich man relied on his own wealth, his own understanding. Of course, it was shattered. Now, he wants to warn others.

While some might preach on the chasm between the rich and the poor, or the need for social justice, which admittedly are needed, the parable calls us to more. It is calling us to repentance, to be aware of the consequences of our actions, consequences which may be eternal. It calls us to respect all persons and to rely on God alone, not on our wealth (whatever that might be - riches, intelligence, security, etc.). In the end, all of these will be stripped away.

In discerning our vocations, ask God to help us to rely on Him alone. We ask Him to help us to live with our eyes on eternity, and to be aware of how our actions have eternal consequences.

Twenty-Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time

We cannot serve two masters. When we try to discern God's will for our lives, if we think that we can serve God and yet live in the world without any conflict, we are mistaken. In this weekend's parable, Jesus uses the image of the dishonest servant who reduced the debt load of his master's debtors, so that he would have something to fall back on when he was 'fired' from his position as head steward. Jesus seems to praise him for his dishonesty, after all it is bearing false witness (the Master never gave permission) and in a way stealing. Setting the moral question aside though, one can see the kernel of truth - that we must lose the things that belong to us of this world, but also to be honest in all matters, especially the matters of eternity.

Priests are stewards of the mysteries of God, and as such we will be called to an accounting of our service. Have we been honest with the things of God, not simply dispensing them to make friends in this world? Have we been free to give those gifts to others who not only need them, but God desires them to be given?

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?