4 Advent December 24, 2017 at Saint Peter and Saint William Churches in Naples, FL

Samuel 7, 1-5, 8-12, 14-16 + Psalm 89 + Romans 16, 25-27 + Luke 1, 26-38

David wants to build a Temple, a dwelling place for God; and God says, “No, you don’t build a place for me.” David lives in a fine palace, and he wants to put God in a fine Temple. God isn’t interested, and through the prophet proceeds to tell David all the things God has done just in case David thinks he did those things. Then suddenly the same God who said, “no” to David is ready for a dwelling place, but it is not a finely decorated, richly appointed Temple in the glorious and powerful city of Jerusalem. It is in a dusty little place off the beaten path that God asks for a home. God’s choice for a home is not Powerful, Handsome, Successful King David who is lounging around in his glory. God’s choice for a home is, as we hear tomorrow, a stable. He came, not through a King or a Priest or a Prophet, but from someone who is barely more than a child. She is nobody’s wife and nobody’s mother, an absolute nobody in society. Right there an angel asks her to agree to God’s plan to change everything. This is the mystery we are invited to contemplate today on the Eve of Christmas.

What made it all possible was the fact that Mary listened. Listening is getting to be a rare experience these days. Most people would rather talk, make announcements, or shout. Getting people to listen is ultimately the only way to bring about change, but getting anyone to listen, especially someone who has made up their mind about something is a real challenge to patience and courage. It is no wonder than so little ever changes. Another word for Listening is Obedience. It implies listening so carefully, so attentively, so openly, that the listener is prepared to be changed by what they hear. A law may be imposed on people, but if they do not internalize that law, if they do not choose it as a good way to act, it is only as effective as the painful punishment for infractions.

Now, Mary listened to the angel, and the listening allowed her heart to be vulnerable to God’s grace which is another way of saying that she was obedient. She was not passive about it all and carefully explained why God’s plan seemed impossible to her. She was not even married, not even a real wife! But, she was open enough to listen to a plan that was different from the plan she had for her life and bigger than her expectations or imagination. Some of you may remember what I said last week about how important imagination is for a disciple of Jesus Christ. In the end, what she heard as she listened was that nothing is impossible with God.

The whole long story of God’s relationship with Israel is a story of how the impossible becomes possible with God; of how Abraham’s old wife could bear a son, of how a little boy could put down a giant, of how a handful of Israelites could take over well-fortified and brave Canaan. Over and over again there is a constant reminder and evidence that when people listen, things can happen that were never imagined and seemed impossible.

We are not telling this story to sit back and admire the Blessed Virgin and be impressed by her humble obedience. We are telling this story and proclaiming this Gospel because God is still challenging our fears and asking us to listen. God is still choosing people like us who do not live in palaces and who have not accomplished anything really remarkable that might go down in history. God still asks us to not be afraid, to listen, and by our listening, our courage, and our faith to very possibly change the whole world. Thinking that this is impossible contradicts the Gospel and refuses the power of the Holy Spirit. It’s time to listen suggests Advent’s fourth Sunday, and when we do there will really be peace on earth and good will for all.

3 Advent December 17, 2017 at Saint Peter and Saint William Churches in Naples, FL

Isaiah 61, 1-2, 10-11 + Psalm (Luke 1, 46-54) + 1 Thessalonians 5, 16-24 + John 1, 6-8, 19-28

From the first chapter till the last, the question: “Who are you?” is raised again and again in John’s Gospel. It starts with John the Baptist as we heard today. It is very dramatically asked again of Jesus by Pilate, and finally in the last chapter John tells us that none of the disciples “dared to ask that question” about a man on the shore who told them where to fish and bring in a great catch. In that 21^st and last Chapter it simply says: “Now none of the disciples dared to ask him, “Who are you?” because they knew it was the Lord.

While John’s Gospel is focused on the identity of Jesus as the Word Made Flesh, it also initiates a quest for the identity of his disciples. “Who are you?” is a question this living Word addresses to each of us in this assembly. The disciples came to know the Lord by spending time with him, by listening to his words, by watching what he did, and finally in that 21^st chapter, by doing what he asked. This is the formula unfolded for us in John’s Gospel, and following that formula will eventually reveal who we are.

I find it interesting to notice that when introducing one’s self to a stranger in a crowd of people, just after asking one’s name, the next question is almost always, “What do you do?” It’s as though our name is not enough to establish our identity, and of course, it isn’t enough. So, we ask more because what someone does (their behavior) usually tells us more about them than what they are called. If I were to ask you to name the Apostles, most of you would stumble through eight or fifteen names which is not very important since the Gospels themselves do not agree on all the names. But, if I asked you what an Apostles does, we could get somewhere.

As we move through the last half of Advent, the church suggests that it is time to raise the question: “Who are you?” More than that however, it might well be time for us to provide an answer. John did so by calling attention to what he did not for the sake of any praise or admiration; but for the sake of expressing his relationship to Christ. The challenge then for us in answering that question is to determine whether or not what we do expresses in any way our relationship to Christ Jesus. What we do says just about everything about who we are, and it reveals who we serve and what really matters to us.

In place of a Psalm text today, familiar verses of Luke’s Gospel were sung. They are the words that Luke places on the lips of a young maiden in Nazareth who has just discovered who she is, a favored one for whom the Almighty has done great things. The consequences of acknowledging and recognizing who she is results in great joy, a joy that is almost contagious for those who read and pray those words. In the world of our times, joy easily slips away replaced by sadness and fear. So many innocent people suffer so greatly at the hands of others. Neglect, denial, racism, break apart the family that has been taught to call God, “Father”. At the root of it all is the fact that we have failed to ask the question: “Who are you?” We fail to acknowledge that every one of us is a child of God and a member of our one family as brother and sister. I always imagine that our human experience of Joy is really a reflection of Divine Joy, or Divine Delight. If there is too little Joy these days, it may well mean that God’s joy is less because of what we do and what we fail to do.

As the Church calls us to Joy this day, it is not a call to act or to be happy. It is a call to examine carefully how we live together and what we do shaping who we are. In the end, we are God’s children and therefore one with each other. When one of us is hurting, we all hurt, and so does God. When one of us is a victim of violence or injustice, we are all victims as well just as Jesus Christ was a victim of violence. When one of us becomes aware of the fact that we are chosen, beloved, and gifted by God to give flesh to God’s only Son, we can all rejoice again living with hope and with confidence that God has come to the help of his servant and remembered his promise of mercy.

2 Advent December 10, 2017 Saint Peter and Saint William Churches in Naples, FL

Isaiah 40, 1-5, 9-11 + Psalm 85 + 2 Peter 3, 8-14 + Mark 1, 1-8

Last week the real focus of Advent was shifted from pretending that Christ was going to come and be born in Bethlehem to what I like call, “Get real” or “Live in the present”. This week we begin to reflect upon what the “present” is for believers. When we get honest with ourselves, we can admit that we often live out of our past. Memories, experiences, people, our ethnic history, our national history all can easily fence us in, influence our choices, and control our expectations. “We’ve always done it that way” is one of the first signals that the past is in control. The consequence is resistance to and fear of change. That makes conversion and repentance almost impossible. Many drag all that past stuff through their lives like baggage, and as is the case with most travelers, we take too much, far more than we will ever need.

That prophet who opened our liturgy today announces the future as if it is already happening. This sense of the future already present prompts and encourages a whole new way of living. It transforms the present into a new creation, and with it, the Day of the Lord appears. It sets us free, breaks the bondage we too often have to the past, to old ways that do not give life, to old thinking that resists the Good News, and habits that might very well be sinful and destructive. Suddenly, when our present is being lived with a view to the future instead of looking back to the past all the time, we can be anxious and excited about change, about repentance, and the conversion of our lives will be affective and remarkable.

This season of Advent suggests that the key to a renewed way of life, is a vibrant, active, and free imagination. Without it, we are trapped with no future, nothing to hope for, and no reason to live. We all know people who have no imagination, and they are no fun to be around. Conversation is difficult. They live in the past and have no way of adapting or living in the present with its ups and downs and uncertainties. I am not sure what it is about our educational system, but having been part of it for many years, I am of the opinion that one of the consequences of many educational theories and practices is the loss of or the smothering of the imagination. You can watch what happens to little children from the time they start school until they are few years into it. Their lives seem to dull down as they dumb down. I have an idea that this is why so many young people escape into the world of the internet with those games they play by the hours. It excites and revives their imagination unlike the memorization of facts and figures needed to pass tests and raise scores. Be that as it may, I am reminded of something I would say to every seminarian with whom I worked while being their director years ago. “If you can’t imagine the Kingdom of God, you can’t lead anyone there.” If I met a man who evidenced no imagination telling me he wanted to be a priest, I would always suggest that he consider being a plumber or a life in retail. A disciple of Jesus Christ has imagination and lives for and in the future.

If Moses had never imagined what the Promised Land would be like, he never could have taken God’s people there. If John the Baptist had never imagined what the Messiah would be like, he could never have said: “Behold the Lamb of God.” If Mark had been without imagination of what God’s original creation must have been like, he never would have started his Gospel with those words we just heard: “Here begins.” Just like Genesis begins. The whole Gospel is an imaginative description of the New Creation.

The season of Advent renews and excites our imagination too often dulled by the ordinary routine things of survival day by day. Advent invites us to live the future in the present imagining things yet to be. We can believe that Christ is coming because Christ is already here, and we know it. This is why Advent is a season of hope. We live as if we are saved, and the result is that we are saved. We live as if we are forgiven, and so we are and become forgiving. We live in the promise of a God who is always with us, and so we are never alone, never afraid, and never without courage and peace.

1 Advent December 3, 2017 Saint Peter and Saint William Churches in Naples, FL

Isaiah 63, 16-17, 19; 64, 2-7 + Psalm 80 + 1 Corinthians 1, 3-9 + Mark 13, 33-37

It took me a long time, as long as it takes to grow up, to figure out what Advent was really all about and what the church asks of us in this season. As a child, I always thought it was a bit odd, this pretending that Christ had not yet come; this long preparation for something that had already happened. Besides, in our house, the tree did not go up at Thanksgiving. We had to wait till the last candle of the Advent wreath was lit. It meant a lot of waiting during which we pretended that a baby was going to be born in Bethlehem, a baby whose story I already knew, and whose death and resurrection had already been celebrated in the spring. It was just all a lot of pretending, and I just didn’t get it for a long time.

Then as I began to listen to the readings of Advent, they became more and more familiar, and then year after year the cycle of those readings began to be less of a repetition of the same old thing and more of an invitation to get a little deeper into this mystery. Because, every year, the presence of God in my life was a little deeper and a little more real. Every year I began to notice how the presence of God was more obvious and more personal. Every year there were more stories I could tell about God’s presence being recognized in some experience of the previous year; and how the hand of God seemed more real and more dependable. There was just more to my life and to my faith than there was the year before. So, when I hear the words of Jesus in Mark’s Gospel today, I no longer hear a warning about the end times, but I hear an invitation to live in the present; to be attentive to the time at hand. I hope it is the same for you.

All of us live with a certain amount of denial. It might just be our chosen survival technique, and consequently, we get really good at postponing things. If that’s not our method, we get good at blaming, insisting that everything that is wrong or out of place in our lives is someone else’ fault. We are just innocent victims. We have made a science of escape, and because we deny and postpone, the future gets loaded down with the things we ought to do, should do, and will get around to one of these days. To this thinking, Mark’s Gospel says, “This is the day.” Now.

The best example of how we postpone or blame is our use of or our approach to confession. People living in denial do not have sins these days. In fact, they never use the word. Now, they have “issues”. Some may say that they have a “few rough edges”, but it’s all the same. It is denial.  Denial will not allow us to call this what it is, sin. In fact, the first thing people in denial will deny is that they are in denial. When the denial gets to be too much, then we shift to postponement which is a lot easier than repentance, because repentance requires change. In the midst of this mess, our best hope is that sooner or later, if we live long enough, another Advent will come around with its real message, and maybe this year we will “get it.”

The theme of Advent is not “let’s pretend”. It is “get real.” Now. Advent suggest that we live in the present, not in a future too crowded with the stuff we have postponed. For most of us that the future would never be long enough to get all the stuff done we have panned for it. Advent really insists that we get real and live today with the truth of God’s presence in our lives and in this world. It’s not about something yet to come. This Advent is an opportunity to once again experience the Word of God taking flesh in us today. Having allowed God such profound and real entry into our lives, we may find ourselves giving birth the Word of God in our world, in our families, and in the relationships, that still, because of God’s gifts bring us joy and offer us the promise of peace.

The sum of this Gospel today is really quite simple. Get real and live in the present, because today is all we can be assured of and the night is coming. That doesn’t have to a frightful warning. It is just a nice way of saying that we believe and have evidence in our own lives that God is faithful, merciful, patient, and just; or to put it even more simply, God is Good!

The Solemnity of Christ the King November 26, 2017

Ezekiel 34, 11-12, 15-17 + Psalm 23 + 1 Corinthians 15, 20-26, 28 + Matthew 25, 31-46

                                          All of a sudden, the Gospel of Matthew concludes with this parable that reaches back to the beginning tying it all together. The last of the parables repeats the last of the Beatitudes: “Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.” The next verse in Matthew’s Gospel begins the plot to kill Jesus and the story of his passion. So, what Matthew give us here is this grand pageant of the Last Judgement, a kind of Gospel within a Gospel for people dedicated to works of charity and justice for today’s multitudes suffering hunger, thirst, horrible illness, and imprisonment.

This parable is the crown of all reversal stories, a perfect example of what parables do: turn things upside down. Contrary to what most people generally think, when Jesus speaks of the “least brothers” he is not speak about the poor who are everywhere. This parable is spoken to his disciples telling them how to live during his absence with the assurance that he would always be with them. When he says: “Whatever you did for one of the least brothers” he is referring to his disciples”. “Brothers” is a term he reserves for disciples. In simpler terms then, the nations will be judged on how they received the Christian disciples, the least of Jesus’ brothers and sisters who carry the presence of the absent Jesus.

With that clarification, take this parable now and think of it terms of the story we have told again so faithfully and so powerfully with the ministry of Blessed Stanley Rother. He is the blessed one. He is the least of Christ’s brothers as one who knew Christ was always with him. He is the one who was persecuted by those who refused the message of justice the Gospel proclaims. It is to men and women like Blessed Stanley Rother that this parable is addressed so that they may not lose courage and hope. It is spoken to us as well. It is spoken to a church that to this day is persecuted. Even more personally, it is a parable spoken to us who might sometimes waver or falter in our mission when we are judged and mocked, teased or attacked because we speak up for and stand up for justice and mercy, defending the homeless or immigrants, or warning of the dangers of great wealth and power.

What Jesus says to us today is that how we choose to live shapes our eternal future. All the readings today depict Jesus in his weakness so that we may understand how totally he has identified with us and remains one with us. In all that weakness, he still retains the greatest power of all. It is a power nothing and no one on this earth possesses. It is the power to move human hearts to compassion. With this power, we are turned lose on this earth by the command of Jesus, and we should fear nothing and no one keeping our eyes fixed on the image of this grand pageant Matthew puts before us as our hope and as his promise.

The Thirty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time

November 19, 2017

Provers 31, 1-13, 19-20, 30-31 + Psalm 128 + 1 Thessalonians 5, 1-6 + Matthew 25, 14-30

This is a sad story even if you look at it from the viewpoint of the two who are praised by the master. I think the sadness comes from the lingering image of a God who still is judged by some to be demanding, fierce, and angry. The consequence of what the third man chooses to do deprives the whole scene and the whole world, for that matter, of the good he could have done with what he was given. It isn’t just a private matter of what each one does with what each one is given, there is a collective sense of goodness and joy that is lost because one of them is afraid.

In a moment of formation for his disciples, Jesus proposes that doing what God does the way God does things is the heart of discipleship. Servants who imitate his way of working get caught up in his way of living. The trouble with that third servant is that he failed to do what the master wanted. The master could just as easily have buried the money, but he didn’t. He took a risk with the hope that his servants would follow his example. One of them was too afraid of failure to do anything which is hardly the way the master lives. He handed his fortune over to his servants so that they could keep his business going. Those who did so not only increased the master’s fortune, but they became more like him as they did his work and carried on his mission. When the master returned, he did not look at the amounts, but rather at the two who had done his work.

As Matthew’s Gospel is quickly moving toward the passion of Christ and the time when Christ hands over to us his work and his mission we would be wise to carefully look at how we have managed the gifts entrusted to us. This church through which the generous, loving, and gracious God is still revealed is ours to build up.  Fear does not become us. Bold action, courageous witness to faith, and a desire to share the light of Christ and a place at this table is what is expected of us. As Jesus reached out to those on the margins of society, to those others avoided, and to those who had lost hope, we act as the master has acted to make sure no one is left out or left alone.

Being afraid to invite someone to prayer, to Mass, or to discover the healing peace of forgiveness makes us like that third servant, and it does nothing to further the work of Jesus that has been entrusted to us.

We are disciples of Jesus Christ. His mission and his work have been entrusted to us. Laziness is not compatible with discipleship. Excuses for doing nothing will never be accepted. It will be better to have done the wrong thing than to have done nothing. He will return to measure what we have done and how well we have been faithful to his mission. We do not know when because he has given us no timetable, but he has given us many possibilities.

The Thirty-second Sunday in Ordinary Time November 12, 2017

Wisdom 6, 12-16 + Psalm 63 + 1 Thessalonians 4, 13-18 + Matthew 25, 1-13

                                                        At the end of October, I flew down to Houston for a meeting. On the return, I witnessed something that made me very sad. A woman with three young girls I assumed to be her daughters arrived at the gate just after everyone had boarded a flight going to Denver. There were some anxious looks down the concourse and a frantic conversation with the gate agent. Clearly to me, someone was missing. The agent paged a man’s name, and kept motioning for the woman and the children to board the plane. They refused. I walked over to them and said: “What does he look like? I’ll go and have a look.” She raised her hand to indicate his height, and said: “Curly hair.” I made a quit trip down the concourse, checked the restroom, the restaurants, and the shops. No curly hair. When I returned, the door was closed, the plane had pushed back, and the woman and three girls were sitting together looking very unhappy. Moments later, the man with curly hair sauntered up looking amazed that the plane was gone. You can imagine what the conversation between them might have been like. I stayed where I was.

This is a story played out over and over again in human lives. We all know people who are always late for everything. There is usually an excuse and someone else to blame. Like the five in the parable, they blame their friends for not sharing or the shop owners for not be open in the middle of the night! There is always an excuse with the expectation that they could just slide on in with the help of others. This story also speaks to those who are wise describing what wisdom looks like, and these are the ones Jesus is really speaking too. This parable is about wisdom, and it is a theme that will be presented again next Sunday as well. This concern seems to occupy the mind of Jesus as his own life comes near its close. It is the Bible’s assumption that our death will catch us in the way we normally live either in a prepared state or a postponed state. There are some who rely on last-minute preparations like five of the virgins who had taken no extra oil.

I am not a great believer in last-minute preparations. I am working on this homily in October. I have wisely learned that something could come up on November 10 or 11 that keeps me from preparation. So, get it ready early. After fifty years as a priest, I am not a great believer in death-bed conversions either. I do not rule them out, but believe me, they are an infrequent grace. Now, 40,000 people died in auto deaths last year in this country, and 610,000 of heart attacks, and 140,000 of strokes. Just those figures alone ought to give us reason to question the wisdom of putting off anything that might strengthen and enrich our friendship with God, our relationship with his Church, and our care of God’s children sometimes entrusted to our care. Making excuses or blaming others will change nothing when it is finally just too late. Pretending that God’s mercy will always reopen the door when it has been closed goes contrary to what Jesus has said not only with this parable but many times before. Those who cry “Lord, Lord” will get no hearing because this is the time for action not later. It is possible to be “too late.” This is the time to prepare. This is the time given for us to prepare.

For those of us here, this is our graced future. We are the ones who carry the light and wait for the Lord. We take hope and courage from these verses, confident that all we do in service, in prayer, in sacrifice, and praise will lead us into the banquet we anticipate around this altar. We can’t do much for those who are not wise enough to prepare. We might go wandering around the airport concourse looking and hoping, but sometimes it doesn’t work.  Yet we can pray for them and by the witness of our good lives, we might signal to them that the groom is coming. May we live each day worthily in constant expectation of Christ’s return. This is real wisdom.

The Thirty-first Sunday in Ordinary Time November 5, 2017

Malachi 1, 14, 2, 8-10 + Psalm 131 + 1 Thessalonians 2, 7-9, 13 + Matthew 23, 1-12

Saint Joseph Catholic Church in Norman, Oklahoma

                                          If a pious Jew had taken seriously and practiced the kind of religion the Pharisees were teaching, they would have had ulcers and time for nothing else in life. Their homes would have been a mess, and they would have been out of a job and completely without friends. That religion enslaved them to a God who was a relentless taskmaster. The Pharisees themselves were trapped in a system that was totally self-focused thinking that what they did was going to save them. Nothing else! It was all up them.Their whole self-esteem rested upon the admiration of others, and so everything they did was to gain approval and impress other people. No wonder Jesus, his message and behavior, was so impossible for them to embrace.

Suddenly, the focus is off of one’s self to the point that titles are set aside because there is only one father and one teacher. In the religion Jesus describes, we do not pose as savior or master of anyone. If someone aspires to be number one they will be the first, but not the first in line. They will be the first to arrive when another has need, the first to forgive when there is offense, the first to heal when there is hurt. There is no mistaking the message of Jesus preserved in this Gospel. We are brothers and sisters. That’s that. In the matter of salvation and grace what we do is never done to look good or to earn something. It is done because we have been so blessed and given so much. Who we are is not a matter of titles earned, or for that matter bestowed by some authority, but rather a matter of who we are and how we behave.

I often wonder why so many of our young people have abandoned us and leave so many of these pews empty on Sunday. The more I think about it, the more I begin to feel as though the message of Jesus is still unfulfilled leaving us trapped in a religion that is sometimes more about rules and regulations than it is about is about relationships, friendship with God, and loving care for one another. Not always, but sometimes there is too little joy, too little excitement, too little desire to come together in praise and thanksgiving for the hope we share in this place. In homes where assembling for Mass is something anticipated with joy throughout the week, and in parishes where the welcome is sincere and the gifts of the Holy Spirit abound, there ought to be people lining the walls and waiting to get in. Moaning about the priest or the deacon, complaining about the music, criticizing the bishop, with negative comments about the parish do nothing to bring life and hope, joy and peace into a community. This has to be a place of forgiveness, respect, and joy where people who may have been battered around during the week can come for healing and understanding, where people whose skin color or accent makes them feel unwelcome can find a home, where people whose sexual identity is different are treated like children of God, where people who are worn and tired with age and work find a gentle shoulder to lean on, and where people who feel alone can find a companion.

In these verses today, Jesus has four criticisms of the Pharisees with which we might inspect and critique ourselves as a church. 1) Practice what you preach. 2) Obey God’s commands which are always about love and service. 3) Piety that attracts the attention of others and their admiration is wrong. 4) Do nothing for the sake of recognition and honor, which really means don’t be disappointed or angry when you are not recognized for doing the right thing even when no one is looking. With this wisdom, we can safely avoid the woes and worries that threatened those Pharisees trusting that this wisdom is always relevant in every age and in every place. Integrity is what matters, and it is a noble and necessary trait for disciples of Jesus Christ.

The Solemnity of  All Saints 2017

Revelation 7, 2-4, 9-14 + Psalm 24 + 1 John 3, 1-3 + Matthew 5, 1-12
November 1, 2017 at St Joseph Parish in Norman, Oklahoma

Today we sit at the feet of Jesus and listen to his instruction. As always,
Jesus is telling us something about God. These Beatitudes reveal our God to
us. They tell us what God is like and therefore, what how God-like people
live.
Hoy nos sentamos a los pies de Jesús y escuchamos sus instrucciones. Como
siempre, Jesús nos está diciendo algo acerca de Dios. Estas Bienaventuranzas
nos revelan a nuestro Dios. Nos dicen cómo es Dios y cómo le gusta a Dios
que vivan sus semejantes.
These holy people we remember today have one thing in common: their need.
This is a need for food for mercy, for peace, for happiness. All of these
things are different forms of needing God. Those who are blessed in this
life are people who know they need God. They know that they cannot go
through life or go into eternal life with God, and without God’s grace,
help, and peace.
Estas personas santas que recordamos hoy tienen una cosa en común:
“necesidad” . La necesidad de alimento para la misericordia, la paz, la
felicidad. Todas estas son formas diferentes de necesitar a Dios. Aquellos
que son bendecidos en esta vida son personas que saben que necesitan de
Dios. Ellos saben que no pueden ir por la vida o ir a la vida eterna sin la
gracia, la ayuda y la paz de Dios.
These “saints” are not called “Saint” because of their perfection. They are
saints because they knew that they needed God. They had failures and faith.
They were not super-human filled with grace and gifts, faith and virtues
that we lack. They fell and were picked up, sinned and were forgiven, forgot
the promises they made and they were reminded again. The saints we remember
today are part of us all.
Estos “santos” no son llamados “Santos” por su perfección. Son santos porque
sabían que necesitaban de Dios. Tuvieron fracasos y fe. No fueron súper
humanos solo estaban  llenos de gracia y dones, fe y virtudes que nos
faltan. Cayeron y fueron recogidos, pecaron y fueron perdonados, olvidaron
las promesas que hicieron y se les recordaron nuevamente. Los santos que
recordamos hoy son parte de todos nosotros.
We are not saints because of our perfection, but the lack of perfection does
not keep us from becoming saints. We know that too often are not meek,
merciful, or peacemakers. We become saints because we know that we can never
become saints without God. Knowing out need for God and living that way is
what we must do. It is why we are here, and it is what will eventually get
us into the Kingdom of God.
No somos santos por nuestra perfección sin embargo la falta de perfección no
nos impide convertirnos en santos. Sabemos que con mucha frecuencia no somos
mansos, misericordiosos ni pacificadores. Nos convertimos en santos porque
sabemos que nunca podremos volvernos santos sin Dios. Saber la necesidad de
Dios y vivir de esa manera es lo que debemos hacer. Es por eso que estamos
aquí, y es lo que finalmente nos llevará al Reino de Dios.

The Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time October 29, 2017

Exodus 22, 20-26 + Psalm 18 + 1 Thessalonians 1, 5-10 + Matthew 22, 34-40

Saint Joseph Catholic Church in Norman, Oklahoma

                                          When you stop to think about it, a command to love seems a bit puzzling and perhaps even difficult if not impossible. If love is spontaneous and free, if it is a gift that we give, we might do well to wonder how it can be commanded. When we begin to do so, we start to dig into what God is asking of us. Contributing to the puzzle is the fact that the word “love” means too much and too little. It stands for just about everything, and it justifies too many things. People have done things for love that have destroyed the very object of their obsession, and they have done things for love that have destroyed their very souls.

It is probably the most misunderstood word of all. For some it can mean sex, or thrills, or feeling wonderful. For some it makes the world go round, it’s what the world needs now, or all you need is love according to some of the song writers of our ages. It’s supposed to fix things, make us feel better about ourselves and the world. “Love is all you need” according to another song. Suddenly in Matthew’s Gospel, that word “love” shows up as the sum of the law and prophets.

For those of us who take seriously the commandments and really want to follow them, it is rather important to discern what that verb, “love” means in the bible, because in the rest of life, it is certainly not very clear. I would say that it is a word more abused than understood, and the misunderstanding leads to a lot of guilt, sadness, frustration, and disappointment. There is a command here. Clearing up what exactly is being commanded opens the way to faithfulness and holiness.

We believe that God is Love, and our experience of that love, or that God, leads us to understand what is being commanded. The mystery of God takes us far beyond human emotions, warm feelings, and sentiments. These are human traits, not divine traits. It is rather trivial to attribute human sentiments to God. That’s backwards suggesting that God is made in our image rather than us being made in the image of God. When we begin to discern what God’s love is like and how God’s love is expressed and experienced, the best word we have is commitment. In the Old Testament, stubborn, unwavering commitment is what God’s people experience from God. No matter what they do, how they act, and who they worship, God never leaves them and never abandons them. There is no talk of sentimentality here. It’s all about commitment, and that is biblical “love.” With that understanding, commitment can be commanded, and a people made in the image and likeness of God can make commitments just like God.

So, love of neighbor has nothing to do with affection for another, but it has everything to do with not abandoning, ignoring, cutting off, or pretending that someone has no claim on us or that we have no responsibility toward them. We do. To love the neighbor is to imitate God by taking their needs seriously, and by never leaving them alone to fend for themselves. This kind of love commanded of us by God involves heart and will, soul and life, mind and strength. In the end, it requires fidelity, and its roots are in covenant. Loving one’s neighbor as one’s self means that we can no more break the relationship with another than we can break our relationship to ourselves. This love is ultimately an affirmation of our oneness in God’s sight; our oneness with each other, and our oneness with God. Any break destroys it all.

Profound human love is always an image of God’s love. We can see it all the time, and from time to time we share in it. I have watched people married for fifty and sixty years content to sit quietly in each other’s presence, yet become upset if the other returns home later than expected or is absent for more than a few hours. Behind this silent presence is decades of mutual commitment. Love of God is like this. It means never quitting, never stopping, never giving up. It means attention, patience, and service. It always means some sacrifice that is easy when it comes from a grateful heart that rests secure in the knowledge and love of a God who is always beside us, with us, and within us.