Great Expectations

1^st Sunday of Lent

Cycle C

This morning we hear once again the famous story of Jesus’ temptation in the desert. Jesus entered that desert with thirty years of life under his belt. He had grown up influenced by the beliefs of his day. His religious, social, and political views had been formed during his everyday life in Nazareth. Like his neighbors, Jesus was looking to the end times, when the Messiah would come. The Jews had certain expectations of what the Messiah would be and what he would do when he came. Jesus knew those expectations. He knew what the Jews were looking for in the Messiah, he just didn’t know how they were going to handle the reality of the Messiah.

Jesus must have been tempted to live up to the expectations of the Jews. If he gave them what they wanted, they would accept him and welcome his message. They would find comfort there and everything would be alright. Life could be easy, and isn’t that what everyone wanted?

Jesus knew that the messiah was expected to be a great king, of the line of David, Israel’s greatest king, and that his reign would never end. He knew that kings were supposed to be rich and powerful. He had read the stories of king Solomon, who was richer than any king in history. Jesus knew the people expected the messiah to have all these things and more, and he knew that he had the power to turn these very stones into…what? Anything he wanted. Jesus could have riches and material things like no one had ever seen before. When Satan tempted him to turn “these stones” into bread, what do you think was all around him? Stones as far as the eye could see. What things Jesus could have! If he had more riches than any person on earth surely people would recognize him for who we was.

Jesus knew that the people expected the messiah to be the most powerful king the world had ever seen. Kings and queens from all other nations on earth would come to Jerusalem to bow down before him. That would be the sign that Israel had taken its rightful place once again as God’s chosen people. Jesus knew he had the power to subdue the political forces of the day. He knew he had an army of angels at his beck and call. If that’s what the people wanted, he could give it to them. It would be so easy. No one could withstand his terrible glory.

Jesus knew that the people were expecting the messiah to be someone very special, someone above ordinary people. The messiah would be kind and merciful, but he would also be aloof and unapproachable, just like a king should be. Sort of a distant father figure, not like them. He would be proud and grave. Jesus could be that sort of messiah. That’s what the people expected, that’s the messiah they would respond to.

Jesus was tempted to give them what they wanted. What they got instead was unexpected. Jesus challenged their expectations. He showed them that the messiah wasn’t about riches and power and glory. He showed them that the messiah was about suffering and death, and redemption.

In place of a rich man, they got someone who didn’t accumulate material goods; in fact, he didn’t even have a place to call his own. He didn’t worry about what to eat or to wear, he didn’t care about earthly power. In place of a king with an army of angels, Jesus had twelve poor men like himself, one of whom went so far as to betray him. Instead of a proud, haughty king they got a humble carpenter who wouldn’t even defend himself at his trial. Someone compassionate who healed with a touch and gathered children around him.

Jesus turned their world upside down. Everything was backwards. How could they have been so wrong?

Things haven’t changed much. We also have certain expectations of the messiah. The messiah we seek today doesn’t ask much of us, does he, because we really don’t want that kind of messiah. Today, it seems that the messiah we seek is someone who will be there when we need him, but doesn’t challenge us very much. We pray to him for the things we need when we need them, but the rest of the time he’s just a picture on the wall or a piece of jewelry around our necks. We enjoy hearing stories about how much God loves us no matter what we do. We like to hear stories of Jesus’ miracles and compassion. It really doesn’t matter if we sin, because we’re forgiven.

We like these stories because we’ve reduced the Messiah down to a warm fuzzy friend who’s non-threatening. We fit Jesus into our individualistic lives. It’s all about me, so I like the messiah who’s all about me, but don’t ask me to truly follow him. After all, Jesus wants me to take up my cross daily. Don’t ask me to actually change my life. Don’t challenge me to turn from my sinfulness. Gimme but don’t ask me to give.

We’re often tempted the same way Jesus was, to live up to the expectations of others. The difference is that we give into our temptations, while Jesus didn’t. We work so very hard to turn our stones into bread, or plasma TVs or x-boxes. We have so much food that most of us are considered overweight. We don’t have to go without, so why should we? Society expects us to consume, so we do.

We seek power over others. We’re expected to strive to get ahead and exert our will over others, in our families, in our careers, in our communities, as a nation. We seek prestige and accolades. We all want to be the American Idol and get our fifteen minutes of fame, or infamy. We revel in the celebrity of others. It doesn’t matter if a person leads a moral life or not, just so long as they’re on TV, they’re our heroes.

Everything has been turned upside down. How could we have been so wrong?

Harsh stuff. But this is Lent, and Lent is supposed to be a time of purification and enlightenment. Purification can be painful. Enlightenment can be challenging. When you pray this Lent, what kind of Messiah will you find? When you go deep within yourself this Lent, what kind of person will you encounter?

Will either of them live up to your expectations?

Where Is Their God?

Ash Wednesday

Joel 2:12-18

2 Cor 5:20-6:2

Mt 6:1-6, 16-18

The prophet Joel says today, “Why should they say among the peoples, ‘Where is their God?’”

I think that perhaps sometimes God says, “Where are my people?”

We see fewer and fewer signs of religion in our society today. The secularization of society is pushing us more and more into the churches and out of the public square as we are discouraged or even forbidden to declare our faith. It goes beyond removing the ten commandments from government buildings, or not being allowed to wear crucifixes or have a bible out on our desks at work for fear of offending someone. People of faith are being pushed and shoved onto the fringes, their message shrugged off as fanaticism.

But once a year, at least, we push back and break out. Once a year we wear our faith on our foreheads.

I think it’s interesting the crowds we get on Ash Wednesday. Many Catholics -- present company excluded, of course -- don’t go to Mass on Sundays, or Christmas or Easter, but they do come to Ash Wednesday services. For one day, at least, we come to declare who we are and what we believe in.

We walk around all day with this dirt on our foreheads. We get people all day telling us “There’s a smudge on your forehead”, and we’re forced to tell them over and over again that no, we’re Catholics, and they’re ashes, not dirt. Sometimes we say it proudly, sort of like wearing that little button on election day, “I Voted”. And sometimes we respond sheepishly, almost like we forgot they were on there.

Will you wear your ashes all day (evening) or will you go home and wash them off? To be honest, I’ve done that myself sometimes. It’s tough to see the look in people’s eyes when you tell them that, no, it’s not a smudge, I’m Catholic and today is Ash Wednesday. They get all fidgety and often change the subject. Or they belittle the practice, saying something like “Oh, that.” Or, saddest of all, they say, “Oh, that’s today? I’m Catholic, too, and I forgot.”

St. Paul declares that we are ambassadors for Christ. We speak in his name and represent him here on earth. When people see us, they’re supposed to see Jesus. Ambassadors speak with authority for the persons they represent. But unlike political ambassadors, whose symbols of power are beautiful embassies and stretch limousines, our symbol is a little smudged cross, and our credentials are the gospel.

The practice of covering oneself in ashes goes back beyond recorded time. It appears many times in the Bible, too. Whenever they were unfaithful to God’s commandments, the ancient Jews would wear sackcloth and cover themselves in ashes as a sign of repentance, especially after some prophet had foretold that God would destroy them if they didn’t.

The threat of destruction is a strong motivation to reform your life.

The early Christians would also wear ashes and special clothing as part of their penance for serious sins. They would not be allowed into the place of worship, but had to sit outside the door and listen in. Their clothing and the ashes told the community that this person was serious about repenting. They wanted really badly to come back inside.

Wanting to be included is a strong motivation to reform your life.

So why will you wear your ashes today? I asked a young girl once why she liked getting ashes, and all she said was “they’re cool”, and ran off to play. Is that how you see them, as something special that sets you apart? Are they cool? Or will they remind you throughout the day of who you are? Will they be a motivation to take this Lent seriously? Not just giving up stuff but taking serious steps to reform the things in your life you’re not too proud of?

Non-Catholics have seen a lot of negative stuff about the church the past couple of years. Today they will see you and your simple symbol declaring your faith. What will they see in your eyes today? Will they see Christ reflected in your face?

Will the little smudge remain long after it is washed off?

An Hour with the Lord

One or our parishioners, Deidre Teodosio, gave this wonderful explanation of Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament. I thought it would benefit you all.

An Hour With Our Lord

Have you ever heard the story of a man who lived alone and his town was beginning to flood. Everyone was being evacuated.   As the water rose this man insisted on staying in his home because God would save him.  When the water got as high as his 2nd floor window people in a boat came by urging him to get in, again he insisted that God would save him.  Not long after that he had to climb to his roof to keep from drowning.  A rescue helicopter flew above him insisting he get in.  He would not budge-God would surely not forsake him.  The next thing he knew he was in Heaven and in front of God.  Upon seeing God the man asked God why He did not save him.  God replied that He had sent a boat and a helicopter to rescue him but he refused them.

Do you ever felt like you are drowning under the weight of life’s circumstances and you find yourself looking for some kind of sign from God to help you?  Perhaps you have too much on your plate and you are so overwhelmed with responsibility you don’t know where to start. Or perhaps you have received news that someone you love or you yourself have been diagnosed with a terminal illness and you are looking for answers and peace for your broken heart.

Maybe the everyday stresses of work, kids, bills, responsibilities have worn you down to your last nerve OR you have received some wonderful news and you cannot find anyone to share it with.

What if I told you that there is a place you can go to unburden yourself, to become refreshed, to receive good counsel and be comforted-it costs you nothing, no insurance required, but is of infinite value. The answer to any need you may have is right here at this Church.

It is our Lord in the Eucharist.  Jesus told His disciples that He is the Bread of Life and that He would be with us until the end of time.  Not in some metaphysical way, but really, substantially.  We all understand that God is everywhere, but do we remember that He is here with us body, blood, soul and divinity at every Mass.  The bread and wine are consecrated and transformed into Jesus’ body, blood, soul and divinity-And it remains Jesus forever.  He is kept in the Tabernacle where we can visit Him anytime, BUT the Church also provides special times for the Adoration of Jesus.  The Host is placed in a Monstrance and set here on the alter for all to come and visit Him. 

It was Jesus who asked His disciples in the Garden of Gethsemane to  be with Him for 1 hour---1 hour that was all.  Our Church provides the means for us to be with Him for THAT hour in an extraordinary way-through Adoration. If you have never taken time to sit and be with our Lord in this way I urge you, I challenge you to do this.  Once you have spent time in Adoration you will want to go again and again.

He will transform you in ways you never thought possible. Do not let this opportunity pass you by.  Accept His invitation to spend just 1 hour with Him-it is our Lord asking you. 

If you are not sure what Adoration is like, I will tell you. It is as simple as sitting and looking at Jesus in the Monstrance. That’s all you have to do. You can pray, read or just listen.  It is your hour with Him.  You will notice a peace, like a burden has been lifted.  You will be rejuvenated, happy,  and joyful. This hour will begin a journey of drawing you ever closer to our Lord and will strengthen you spiritually.   This is a great time to start since Lent begins in less than two weeks. Spending time in Adoration will help you prepare for Lent.

Blessed John Paul II spent countless hours in Adoration, Pope Benedict has said the we are currently witnessing a “springtime in Eucharistic Adoration” and Archbishop Fulton Sheen always prayed for an hour before the Blessed Sacrament before he hosted his weekly program.  Countless saints, and current people of all walks of life spend time before Jesus regularly.  This is a great opportunity for you to find out what these  people already know.  Who knows Adoration may be the boat or helicopter that God is sending you.

Gone Fishin'

5^th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Cycle C

Peter had a horrible self image. He was a bumbler, a fool, and a coward. He usually said exactly the wrong thing at exactly the wrong time. He usually spoke without thinking. This was one such time. When confronted with his first miracle, he didn’t say, “Wow, Jesus, that was great, thanks.” Or, “How did you do that? Who are you?” Instead, when confronted with the unexplainable, the first thing he thought was how unworthy we was to receive such a gift.  He got one thing right, he was a sinful man. He must have been acutely aware of his shortcomings if that was the first thing he thought of when in the presence of pure love himself.

I can imagine Peter struggling with himself every day of his life. Like most of us, he probably wanted to live up to God’s law as he learned it in the synagogue, but then the frustrations of life came up and he would blow it. He’d say or do something stupid, no matter how hard he tried. And every time he failed to live up to the ideal he beat himself up a little more. I know how he must have felt. Whenever I screw up, and it’s often, it’s usually because I don’t think about what I’m saying or doing and how it will affect others. Whenever people call me out as a hypocrite I tell them, “Just think how bad I’d be if I didn’t have my faith to help hold me in check a bit. This is nothing compared to what I would be.”

I myself felt I was unworthy to be called to the diaconate. I actually was thinking of dropping out six months before ordination, because I did not think I could live up to the image I had of what a deacon should be. All the deacons I knew were quiet, humble, gentle men, sort of grandfatherly figures. I am none of those, and I knew I probably would never be. But then a wise priest told me that God wasn’t calling me to be perfect. He knew better than anyone the kind of man I was, and he was calling me anyway. He wanted me with all my imperfections. He was calling me as I was, and he wanted me as I was. My job was to say yes to the call and then struggle to find a way to live it in my everyday life.

Peter’s feelings of unworthiness were perfectly natural given whose presence he was in. Humility comes from just that self-awareness. It was Peter’s humility that ultimately made him prince of the apostles. As Fr. James Martin puts it in his book, My Life with the Saints, “Peter is among the greatest of the saints because of his humanity, his shortcomings, his doubts, and moreover, his deeply felt understanding of all these things. Only someone like Peter, who understood his own sinfulness and the redeeming love of Christ, would be able to lead the infant church and lead others to Jesus. Only someone as weak as Peter could do what he did.”

Jesus had a tendency to call people, and then send them out to tell others about him. He completely ignored Peter’s protestations and simply said, “From now on you will be catching men.” No judgments. No qualifications. In Luke’s gospel, Jesus does not go out searching for Peter, James and John. Peter’s boat was simply the closest. Peter won the luck of the draw, and it changed his life, and ours, forever.

Like a fisherman, Jesus sometimes cast a net; sometimes he used a line and a hook. He used five loaves and two fish as bait for 5000 people, and he spent hour’s one-on-one explaining profound truths to Nicodemus. Whenever you cast a wide net, you never know what you’ll catch. You just throw it out there and hope for the best. When you fish with a line, you use bait that’s specifically attractive to one individual.

Jesus didn’t play favorites, he called everyone he encountered. He called them right then, where they were in their lives, at that moment in time. He didn’t wait until they had completed seminary studies, or had gotten married, or had bought a house or gotten a new job. He called them right then, casting his net and hoping they’d answer his call. Then he moved onto the next person, and the next, and the next.

We encounter Jesus in our everyday lives. Peter, James and John were at work. St. Francis was praying in a church. St. Ignatius Loyola was recuperating from a wound he had received in battle. Each of them was profoundly affected by their encounter with Jesus; most of us do not have a single, life-changing event. We have to look for Jesus in the most mundane ways and in the most ordinary people. And whenever we do find Jesus, it is easy for us to fall back on Peter’s excuse: Leave me alone because I am a sinner.

If you read the lives of the saints, especially those we consider to be the greatest, one common theme you will quickly see is their sinfulness. And some of them committed some whoppers. Moses was a murderer. St. Augustine had a son out of wedlock and lived with a woman not his wife for twenty years. Dorothy Day had an abortion plus an illegitimate child. Saints are not perfect, but they are open to being perfected. When called, many will fight the call with all they’ve got, only to give in gradually. God can be very persistent. And after they answer the call things usually don’t get easier, they get worse. Saints don’t get absolved from pain and temptation, they get polished by them.

Mother Theresa said, “God is not calling me to be successful, he’s calling me to be faithful”. I remember that whenever it seems like everything I do is futile, that we’re losing the battle for souls in a big way. Every time I see what our society has become and how far away from God we’re moving, I think. “It’s not my responsibility if people reject the call. My job is to cast a line or a net to the best of my ability to as many people as I can. It is up to the Holy Spirit to do the rest. I cannot change hearts, only Jesus can. The only person I have responsibility for is myself. I can choose to answer the call or not. In the end, I will stand before God alone, by myself. And I will be judged on how I answered that call.

That’s not a fatalistic attitude, it’s realistic. We are all called to go forth and make disciples of all nations, but it has to begin with me.

Catholics need to rediscover our evangelical side. For all those years when Christianity was the dominant religion in the culture, Catholicism grew largely because it was part of the culture. You were Catholic because your family was, and your extended family was, and all your friends and your parents’ friends were. But now that the fastest growing group in the country is the “nones”, those with no religion. The culture is turning away from Christianity. When it was cultural, it was easy to say that I can evangelize others simply by the example of living a good life. That is no longer the case. Today, Catholics are called to do more than just live examples of love. We are called to actually go out and tell somebody about it.

When I was a sales manager, whenever I added an additional salesperson, sales went up. Go figure. Common sense. So, if you want things to grow, call more people to help. Don’t you think God knows that? Don’t you think he knows that if numbers are down, the last thing you do is call fewer people. The first thing you do is exhort the ones you have to do more. That’s us. Then we all double our efforts.

Do you really believe that God has been calling fewer men to the priesthood the past 50 years? In 1960 there were about 37 million Catholics in the U.S. Today that number is around 67 million. Even if the percentages of men being called now is the same as it was then, logically, there would be a lot more priests today than in 1960. So what, has God been making cutbacks? Is he looking for increased productivity from our priests, trying to do more with less?

If God were like the typical businessman, if he were getting fewer answers to his call, wouldn’t he just call more men rather than fewer? The scandal of the priest shortage is not that fewer men are being called, but that fewer are answering the call. The scandal of Christianity is not that God is calling fewer people to him, but that we Christians are not calling them. But we must first answer our own call.

Watch out, Jesus just got in your boat.