October 20, 2019 at Saint Peter and Saint William Parishes in Naples, FL

 Exodus 17, 8-13 + Psalm 121 + 2 Timothy 3, 14 & 4, 2 + Luke 18, 1-8

The widow reveals the power of weakness as we shall soon see when Jesus gets to Jerusalem with his passion, death, and resurrection. In Luke’s Gospel, widows are often seen and heard which might reveal the powerful role these women played in the earliest church. The Judge here is not one of the Jewish elders, but a paid magistrate appointed by the Romans. They were notoriously corrupt, extorting money from people to secure a favorable ruling. This judge is a scoundrel. He may well have taken a bribe from the woman’s oppressor. He is cast as the most unjust of all, becoming for us the polar opposite of what God is. So, the judge is not the point of the story. The woman is, and she provides a revelation about God. While Jesus in telling the story wanted to reveal something about God, Luke is more interested in the widow as an example for us. We need her example still, because too many give up prayer and lose faith.

This persistent widow lives among us still. She is the poor, the helpless victim of injustice. She still stands waiting for justice today in a court system bogged down with a huge backlog of court cases for the poor who cannot afford expert legal help. She faces justices today who jockey for positions behind the scenes and cultivate the favor of those who elect them or the government that appoints them. Suddenly in our time, Justice seems to be either Red or Blue.

Faith and prayer belong together. They are interconnected. Saint Augustine says that “Faith pours out prayer, and the pouring out of prayer sustains and strengthens faith.” He ought to know, because without a life-time of his mother’s prayer, we wouldn’t know who he was. Prayer is answered not when we get what we want, but when we get a sense of God’s nearness with the assurance that God has not abandoned us. Prayer may not change the world for us, but it can give us the courage to face it. The prayer of Jesus in Gethsemane: “Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me.” was not answered. But through that prayer Jesus got the strength to face what was to come.

The fruit of prayer is faith. The fruit of faith is love. The fruit of love is service. And the fruit of service is peace. Let’s get started. It is always a good time to pray.

October 13, 2019 at Saint Peter and Saint William Parishes in Naples, FL

 2 Kings 5, 14-17 + Psalm 98 + 2 Timothy 2, 8-14 + Luke 17, 11-19

In the second act of Shakespeare’s play, “As You Like It” Lord Amiens, a musician sings before the Duke these words: “Blow, blow, thou winter wind, thou are not so unkind as man’s ingratitude; Thy tooth is not keen, because thou art not seen, although thy breath be rude. Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky, that does not bite so nigh as benefit forgot: though thou the waters warp, thy sting is not so sharp as a friend remembered not.” And so today, the Word of God speaks to us about gratitude, healing, faith, and salvation all in one well known story.

It does not take a lot of study and prayer with these verses to notice how suffering can bring together people who are enemies. What else was that hated Samaritan doing with the other nine? They needed one another, and suffering often brings people together who nothing in common. Suffering either brings people close to God or drives them away. There does seem to be a third experience. It is also easy to notice that nine are cured, but only one is saved. We don’t know what happened to the nine, but it allows us to think that they returned home with bitterness in their hearts. That Samaritan was an outsider, and he is the one who sees his gift. The nine are insiders who often take everything for granted. Sometime you have to be outside to see things as they really are.

Jesus was not expecting thanks, and that is not what he responded to. Jesus saw more than gratitude. He saw faith which is what prompted him to announce salvation of the Samaritan. “Has no one come back to give praise to God except this foreigner?” he says. In a sense, that Samaritan had two healing experiences: one concerned his physical condition, the other his spiritual condition. He came to faith, to gratitude, through a conversion, and he represents our best hope as we gather in this place always giving thanks. Think of the last words that will be spoken in this liturgy. Unfortunately, they are sometimes missed by other announcements about a hymn number or picking up after yourselves; I wish it wasn’t so, because you really have the last words after being bid to go in peace. What are they?

Gratitude is something that ought to come naturally to us, but sadly we are often better at demanding it than in giving it. Saint Thomas More said this to confirm that truth: “We write in the sand the benefits we receive, but the injuries we write on marble.” Once there was a traveler who came upon a barn where the devil stored seed which he planned to sow in the hearts of people. There were bags of seeds marked: “Hatred”, “Fear”, “Doubt”, “Despair”, “Pride”, “Unforgiveness”, and so on. The devil appeared and struck up a conversation with the traveler. He gleefully told him how easily the seeds he sowed sprouted in the hearts of men and women. The traveler asked, “Are there any hearts in which these seeds will not sprout?” The devil looked sad, and he said: “These seeds will not sprout in the heart of a grateful and joyful person.”

October 6, 2019 at Saint Peter and Saint William Parishes in Naples, FL

Habakkuk 1, 2-3 & 2,2-4 + Psalm 95 + 2 Timothy 1, 6-8 & 13-14

Luke 17, 5-10

This gospel parable is very important to me personally, and it has helped me greatly in the past few years as I moved into “retirement.” When I was stepping out of parish administration, which is really what I retired from and left behind on purpose, people would wish me well and often say, “Father, enjoy yourself now. You deserve it.” I was always very uncomfortable with those words even though they were meant kindly, because I never felt as if retirement for a priest was a reward. It simply meant I had out-lived my usefulness or my patience. So, there is a word in this parable that jumps out at me, and I think it should for all of us. That word is: Duty. It isn’t a word people use much these days, and it isn’t even an idea some like to consider. This parable will not allow that.

As the word and the idea has slipped away, it has been replaced by ideas of merit and entitlement, and this does not harmonize with the Gospel and the faith in which we live our relationship with God. This parable of a man who worked all day in the field and then, when the master comes home continues to work into the night for the master’s dinner doesn’t feel right in the days of merit. He doesn’t get to eat and rest until the master is comfortable. Never once does this master pat him on the back and say “Good Job” or “Thank you”; and why should he? In the days of duty that’s just what you did. There was nothing extra ordinary about it. The days of duty and the days of merit are now in conflict, and Jesus has something to say about it.

There is a story told that might make this clear. It was late in the afternoon on a raw winter day in Dublin. Everybody was in a hurry to get home. Suddenly a cry arose: “There is a man in the river.” People rushed to the wall and looked down into the muddy, uninviting water. Sure enough, there was a man down there thrashing about in the dark water. His desperate cries for help could be heard above the noise of the traffic. Then, with a screech of brakes, a car swung out of traffic, and came to halt at the curb. A young man jumped out, took off his coat and shoes, climbed on the wall, and dived into the water. He grabbed the drowning man and hauled him to shore. A crowd gathered around the rescued man as they waited for an ambulance. A reporter came thinking there was good story here fishing for information, but the rescuer had vanished. Far from seeking praise or acknowledgement, he just left, and that is the kind of spirit we must bring to the service of God.

In the days of merit people sometimes think that God might “owe” them something revealing a sense of entitlement. After all, they think, I deserve a place in heaven because we have been faithful here on earth. Apart from being misguided, this introduces a mercenary attitude into what is supposed to be a love affair between God and us. At the time of Jesus, the Israelites were stuck in that thinking that God owed them because they kept the rules. The merit system was going strong, and Jesus came to reject that thinking and that behavior. It still needs to be rejected today in these days of entitlement and merit.

God does not owe us anything, and we cannot put God in the position where he is in debt to us. To put it more simply, God does not say, “Thank you.”  We say that. We do great and even simple things faithfully because it is our duty. We do not do them out of hope for a reward. We do them out of love and commitment to God’s service. The most generous and heroic deeds are never done out of hope for recognition or reward. They are done out of pure love.

September 29, 2019 at Saint Peter and Saint William Parishes in Naples, FL

 Amos 6, 1, 4-7 + Psalm 146 + 1 Timothy 6, 11-16 + Luke 16, 19-31

From this Gospel, there is a question Luke wants us to ask, “What it is that kept that man from getting to Abraham?” Now, there is a risk of getting sidetracked in the telling this parable that could distract us from asking that question. It leads to a commonly shared idea that the poor should just tough it out and wait, because things will get better after they’re dead. That kind of thinking is an insult to God’s Justice and Mercy. This parable is not about Justice or Mercy. It is about what might keep us out of heaven.

Usually, it is the poor who are nameless in life, while the rich with all their inconsequential doings are covered by the media for our admiration. There is even a cable TV channel called, “E” that makes sure we know their names. In this Gospel, it’s the other way around the rich man has no name, but everyone knows Lazarus. Luke is proposing that this is the way it will be in the Kingdom of God.

There is nothing in this parable to suggest that this rich man was evil, that his wealth was gained by theft or in any other immoral or unethical way. In fact, there is a hint that he might have actually been a good man concerned at least about his family as he tries to get word to his brothers and save them from his torment. How ironic that this nameless rich man even after death cannot throw off his sense of privilege as he who couldn’t even spare a scrap for Lazarus at his gate now expects Lazarus to be his errand boy, and bring him a cup of water. I guess the problem is that he never thought of Lazarus as though he was a brother. I find it interesting that he knew Lazarus’ name! He knew Lazarus was there. He would have had to walk around him to go in and out. There is something else even worse, and Jesus points to it directly. No one was paying attention to Moses and the prophets. They were deaf to the Word of God. They did not listen. They did not respond to what was spoken to them in the Scriptures. All that mattered was the good life.

This is what kept that man from getting to heaven and finding the welcome and comfort of Abraham’s company. Abraham, you know, was the great figure of hospitality in the Scriptures. If we are comfortable in a world of the “haves” and “have-nots”, God’s Word says that there will be reversal forever in the days to come. Lazarus had sores, and had no home but that doorway. Those who have live in nice homes. Those who have not live in shelters or their cars.. The “haves” buy a healthcare and medicine for their sores. The “have-nots” stay sick and die young. A reversal is coming says the Word of God. To ignore that Word is to get caught in the reversal that will come.

They lived in separate worlds, those two men, but they were only steps apart from each other. The rich man never stepped into the world of that poor man. He didn’t see Lazarus as a human being much less as a brother who shared a common humanity. He was indifferent, and indifference is the worst thing of all. What kept him out of heaven then, is the question raised by this Gospel today. He was without compassion. He lived only in his own little world gradually losing his soul as he gained his wealth. Sin kept him out of heaven, and most of the time sin is not about doing wrong, it is about the failure to do good. To close one’s heart it to begin to die. To open one’s heart is to begin to live.

September 22, 2019 at Saint Peter and Saint William Parishes in Naples, FL

 Amos 8, 4-7 + Psalm 113 + 1 Timothy 2, 1-8 + Luke 16, 1-13

There is something going in here with this parable beyond lesson on the wise use of money. To stop there in our reflection is to stay in the shallow water. There is something shocking about Jesus using someone dishonest to talk about. This steward is not only dishonest, but when caught, he refuses to change. There is something more to this story than setting up a situation in which we can simply announce: “You cannot serve two masters.”

What if we switch the spotlight from money and give some thought to this servant who is so clever, so ambitious, and so anxious for his future. This faces some choices as all of us do: Work and life. Often these two become something of a scramble unless you’re retired, like me, and those of you who are retired know what I’m talking about. Suddenly work takes on a whole different perspective. Work tends to claim most of our time and effort. If we take our eyes off of it, we get fired, fall behind, or become obsolete. It can also mean we become workaholics. If we sacrifice our whole life to work, what’s the point? This is exactly the question the servant is facing and asking himself. A question we could all ask ourselves is whether we live to work or work to live?

There seems to be two conflicting demands or responsibilities here, but work and life are both good in themselves. The best we can hope for is to give priority to the most important when it comes to a choice. The gospel talks about loving one and hating the other, but most of the time it’s just not that extreme as hate and love. Even when it comes to God and money, because we have to learn how to use money without making it our god. That was the problem for this servant. Money was his god. So, Jesus uses him to teach us something about how to achieve our priority, if it’s God. That servant was industrious, clever, creative, and committed. Evil people can make sacrifices for what they want. Good people, on the other hand, often sit around doing nothing and seem unwilling to make any sacrifice for their future and for what is good.

Someone very wise once said: “Sow an act, and reap of a habit. Sow a habit, and reap a character. Sow a character and you reap a destiny.” This parable is less about money and more about character and destiny. It reminds us that evil will triumph when good people do nothing.

Today Jesus speaks to us in the Gospel showing disciples what commitment to the cause of God looks like with the example of this dishonest servant was committed to the cause of self-enrichment. When we do act like this servant, not in his dishonesty, but in his passion for his future, the power of evil in this world will be conquered. I was taught that there are three stages to moral development: doing right out of fear of punishment, doing right out of a feeling of solidarity with others, and doing right because it is right. A little good old zeal for the cause of God and Justice with as much energy and commitment as we have had for the cause of money and our own security might help us to grow into a people who do what is right all the time because God would have it so.

September 15, 2019 at Saint Peter and Saint Elizabeth Seton Parishes in Naples, FL

 Exodus 32, 7-11, 13-14 + Psalm 51 + 1 Timothy 1, 12-17 + Luke 15, 1-32

Three parables about parties. I love it! And, who doesn’t love a party except someone who doesn’t like the people invited, and that’s the trouble with this third party. There is someone who will not go in because he doesn’t like someone who was invited. He stands outside pouting and grumbling, complaining about the cost of the party, actually insulting the host who is his father. He never calls him “father.” He just says: “you” with insolence and bitterness. After listening to him, you almost have to be glad he didn’t go. He would have ruined the party anyway.

Then you have to wonder, what is he mad about? Before it all starts, we are told that the father divided his property between them. He already had his share. What is he so mad about anyway? My own guess is that he was just jealous because he didn’t choose the freedom to run around and have a good time. He decided to stay home and look good in the eyes of everyone else. So, now when he sees how it all ends, he’s really mad at himself for staying home and being the nice boy. But, he’s not so nice after all. He’s jealous, he’s angry, he’s rude, and resentful in the face of mercy and love. How can that be, you have to ask when he hears that man say, “My boy. You are always with me. Everything I have is yours”?

Those words come from a man who has left the party and all his guests to come outside once more and gather up a lost one. When I stand back and listen to this parable and the two before it, I suddenly get it when it comes to the Incarnation. It is suddenly clear to me that Jesus has left the Father and the glory of heaven to come down in the flesh and listen to our whining, our resentments, our excuses, and say one more time: “Everything I have is yours.” Everything Jesus has is ours!

The fifteenth chapter of Luke’s Gospel is the most simple and clear revelation of who God is, of what God is doing, and what Divine mercy looks like in human flesh. There is a party going on, and it’s a family gathering. Why in the world would any one of us stay outside resentful or bitter over who gets to come and why we are celebrating? The Inheritance that is ours has already been given. It clearly isn’t just the perfect among us who get to party. If you’ve messed up your livfe and waisted your inheritance, all you have to do is repent, change, turn around and head home. It clearly is not a matter of how much you’ve done, how hard you’ve worked, and what you have sacrificed. All that really matters at the end is that we celebrate, that we are joyful, not just because some folks found their way home, but because God never changed the locks while they were gone and even if we’re late because we’ve busy working, someone is waiting for us to get over it, and get inside.

September 8, 2019 at Saint Peter and Saint William Parishes in Naples, FL

 Wisdom 9, 13-18 + Psalm 90 + Philemon 9-10, 12-17 + Luke 14, 25-33

This Gospel begins by telling us that there were great crowds following him. The impression Luke would give us here is that he was a “rock star” at this point. I suspect Jesus knew that most of these folks were following him because they were entertained, excited, and curious about all that he was doing and the challenges he issued to those who often made their lives burdensome. Today he speaks to them, not to the Scribes and Pharisees. Today he speaks to us. He is on his way to Jerusalem. There is going to be trouble there, a lot of it, and if they are going along and survive the experience with him, they are going to have to do something radical, shocking, and maybe even frightening. When he says, “Take up a cross”, they know what that means. They know how people are tortured and killed with that thing. This is real powerful frightening image to them.

“You want to follow me?” he says, “Then nothing can come before me, not parents, children, brothers, or sisters.” When you make pleasing them the most important thing in your life, there is no room for pleasing God. That Semitic expression, “hate” in our terms means, “love less.” The great models of faithful discipleship left their families behind because Jesus was the only way. Remember Francis of Assisi who abandoned his comfortable family life and the future his father had planned for him to follow Jesus? He did not hate is father. He just loved Jesus more. I think of Father Stan Rother, a farm boy in Oklahoma who would have pleased everyone and would one day have inherited the whole farm. It’s what everyone expected, but he left his family to follow Christ in the suffering people of Guatemala. Our tradition is full of stories and examples of holiness and heroism in the lives of people who let nothing and no one take precedence over Jesus Christ.

To be worthy of Jesus, we must follow Jesus rather than follow the expectations of anyone else. Our lives are not about anyone except God. Our lives are lived in relation to God. God’s plan for our lives is what must matter, not our plans, the plans of our parents for us, or anyone else’s. Only the most free can be worthy disciples of Jesus Christ, and that freedom is best described as having nothing to lose, which is why possessions get in the way. It is that kind of freedom for which we must strive, but only if we calculate carefully and knowingly the cost to determine if you have what it takes. What is coming, is the cross. There is no way to say: “I didn’t know it was going to be like this.”

We have to pay attention to who it is we are always trying to please in this life. If it isn’t God, we’re in for a lot of sadness and disappointment. Jesus had one great task in life, to carry out the will and the plan of God. That is what he lived for, and he was willing to pay any price in order to fulfill that task. He expects the same of his disciples. The cost is probably more than we can imagine, but so is the reward.

September 1, 2019 onboard MS Zaandam

 Sirach 3, 17-18, 20, 28-29 + Psalm 68 + Hebrews 12, 18, 19, 22-24 + Luke 14, 1, 7-14

Banquets, dinners, and parties are all frequent themes in Luke’s Gospel, and he uses these themes to give us a glimpse of what will be in the Kingdom of Heaven. In these verses today, we get a clear instruction about the heavenly banquet to which we hope to be invited. What we discover here is that hospitality and humility are essential virtues for those who expect to have a place at the banquet in heaven.

The reality of this vision of the banquet in God’s kingdom is that people are going to be there we might never think of inviting into our homes, because the Divine host is nothing like this guy who invites people from whom he expects to get something in return. There is a direct contradiction to the custom of social reciprocity that is to this day so endemic to our lives in this world. There is in the comments of Jesus a direct confrontation to a social system that always seems to reward the “haves” at the disadvantage of the “have-nots.” There is no virtue at all in any relationship based upon what you are going to get out of it. So, inviting those who have something to offer is self-serving and egotistical, and it uses the guests in a manipulative way that is shameful and ultimately contrary to the openness and graciousness of real hospitality that mirrors the hospitality of the Divine Host.

Knowing that, anyone who comes as a guest will simply be glad to be invited, and where you sit makes no difference because, you are just grateful to be there in the first place. Those guys Jesus observes elbowing their way around looking for the just right place and just the right people to sit with are foolish and silly looking. They are obviously without gratitude, and more interested in who they are with than in the party itself because, they have to “perform” and look good. The humble are always simply grateful.

It is the role of the Divine host to assign the places of honor, not the guests, and what we can learn from this parable is that we are not going to exalt ourselves. The reality is, we had better humble ourselves, or God will do it for us. The humility found in disciples of Jesus is the grace and wisdom to simply know our place. Saint Thomas teaches that “humility is truth”. Something in this world is always proposing to us that we should expect things or that something is owed to us. The humble are just grateful to be invited to the banquet. They have no expectations about seats of honor or privilege. At the end of the day, those who are worried about who they are going sit with never enjoy the dinner. They are just focused on themselves and the company they seek. In the end, it’s not the place that honors the guest. It’s the guest that honors the place. We don’t know in what place Jesus sat in the home of that Pharisee, but where ever it was, that was the place of honor.

August 25, 2019 onboard MS Zaandam

 Isaiah 66, 18-21 + Psalm 117 + Hebrews 12, 5-13 + Luke 13, 22-30

The question that starts this episode in Luke’s Gospel is asked by people who already feel very certain that they are among the few. They are hoping Jesus will say, “Yes”, securing their self-satisfied position. Jesus was not about to be trapped into playing their game of exclusion. In response, he uses a parable to confuse their rigid attitudes.

Jesus knew very well the writings of the Prophets, and so did they, because they were the religious elite. With this parable he reminds them quite subtly of how the Book of Isaiah concludes. It is a nightmare for nationalists and clerical elites as Isaiah has God gathering all kinds of people to share with them the secrets of divine glory. So, Jesus picks up on that theme as he describes the guest list to the horror of those who ask the question. They are going to come from everywhere, even the people who are least respectable. In fact, Jesus makes it clear that those are the ones he prefers to eat with.

What is being revealed to us is that God is not content with a small group of the elect. Historically, we should hear this and understand that God is not content with just the chosen people, Israel, who think they should be first. What we have to imagine when we proclaim this Gospel today is that God is not going to be content with just those of us who made a little sacrifice to attend Mass on this ship today. God is not going to be content with those who might claim that they are really good and worthy of acceptance. The rule keepers are not going to be the only ones who gain entrance. We have no right to think exclusively and judge that someone else different from us may not be invited and welcomed.

When you think about the great glory of God, it seems impossible to image that without the great variety of people, cultures, and creatures that populate this universe. The fact is, Jesus came up with this story responding to people who were quite willing to limit the number at the heavenly banquet. It is precisely those, he says, who want to limit the number who may very well be told that they are unknown. The story is a direct warning.

Those who want to lock the door are likely to be the ones on the outside of the door they want to lock. They may well protest that they ate and drank with him, that he taught in their streets. But, they do not claim to have assumed his values. What we get here is a picture of God’s banquet as the most ecumenical, international, interreligious gather space in all the universe. The privileged rank here is found at the bottom. The guest will first include the people who don’t want it limited. The only people locked out are those who think they’ve earned the key that gets them in and the riffraff out. The truth is that they would be just as unhappy inside as outside, so in the mind of Jesus, there is no point in letting them ruin the party.

August 18, 2019 at Oklahoma City, OK

 Jeremiah 38, 4-10 + Psalm 40 + Hebrews 12, 1-4 + Luke 12, 49-53

It does not take much time to look at the world today and think that Jesus was very successful. There is division everywhere. Where there is not actual fire, there is fiery language of retaliation, revenge, and threats with missiles and weapons that can obliterate any opposition with fire. However, sometimes these Gospel images given today are used to justify all sorts of behavior Jesus would abhor, and I am puzzled by people who cause trouble and justify it with pious and religious excuses. These words from the mouth of Jesus are not given to us as a go-ahead for divisive behavior and causes that need not cause hurt and division. These words, as Luke recalls them, are to offer comfort to those who have been pushed aside because of a faith that is rooted in reconciliation, forgiveness, love, and peace. We are not called to and expected to scorch the earth and destroy those who oppose or disagree with us.

It can be tough to make Jesus Christ the center of your life. It may bring pain and alienation, because it is tough to be merciful and kind in a world more interested in retribution and revenge. It is tough to be forgiving and work for and live for peace, a kind of peace that means more than an absence of actual military war. That’s not peace, it’s just a pause. At the same time, the Gospel and mission of Jesus has so often been dumbed down, and “Hallmarked” into cheap sentimentality that has no fire, no passion, and little worth dying for. Too often our faith is sanitized beyond recognition. Christmas is the perfect example. That baby was born homeless, and that couple became refugees fleeing from danger and tyranny. Somehow, we have failed to connect all of that with the Incarnation and where and how God chose to be revealed.

In our time, facing the growing reality of secularism, which is more indifferent than hostile to our faith, we grow defensive, and instead of a self-critique that might lead us to wonder how this has happened, we play the victim and it only gets worse. We are a prophetic people as a Catholic Church, and prophets are trouble makers, but the trouble is not their doing. It is the response of those who are troubled. There is no greater disturber than the person who preaches justice and speaks the truth. Take Martin Luther King as an example. He was a man of peace. Yet by speaking about injustice against his race, there was more trouble than anyone could have imagined. He only spoke the truth. The trouble came from those who denied the truth.

Sometimes what we call peace is not really peace at all. There is a phony peace and a phony unity that tolerates discrimination and inequality. The abnormal has become accepted as normal. For instance, the inequalities in society and the gap between helpless poverty and insolent wealth. This is not normal, but many just shrug and say: “That’s the way it is.” Jesus says he came to kindle a fire upon the earth. It may be only a metaphor, but it’s a powerful one. Fire is not something one can remain indifferent to. It’s not a weak, pale, lifeless thing. Fire warms and comforts, but it also burns up what is useless, and refines what is impure. It was justice and integrity that brought Jesus into conflict with those who exploited the weak and the poor. His integrity brought him into conflict with the dishonest. His tolerance brought him into conflict with the narrow-minded and the bigoted.

A South American Bishop once said: “When I give bread to the poor, they call me a saint.  But, when I ask why the poor have no bread, they call me a communist. Go figure that one out!