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

October 16, 2016 at St Peter the Apostle Naples, FL

There is a lot of stuff going on with this parable! It is almost a challenge to stay on point, and dig for what is being revealed. Take for instance that Judge, who for Jesus almost seems to be the focus. He is a Judge. Justice is his business, yet this judge is a failure because he does not make certain that justice is served for everyone. This is a serious charge against him. It is his responsibility to see that there is justice for all, especially the most vulnerable. This man is a problem. Then there is the widow. She is out of her place. As a widow she is a member of one of the most oppressed classes in Israelite society. It would seem that she is not only widowed but also alone in the world, for the custom of that time and culture was for men to appear before a judge to plead her cause. In contrast to a Judge who does nothing, she is really something!

Since we do not know what her complaint is because there are no details, the complaint itself is not the purpose of the parable. What we have here one injustice coming into conflict with an obstacle or a system that is supposed to provide it. We are not told how long the conflict went on, but it was long enough to wear down the obstacle to justice. Forget about judges and widows with this parable. Jesus is talking about justice and how it is to be achieved.

This Judge, the obstacle to justice does not fear God, says Jesus. Those who do fear God, who keep God’s commandments loving God and neighbor do not allow or maintain a system or a culture of injustice. So first of all the parable prompts us to some reflection on whether or not we are the cause of any injustice. Notice however that the judge has not actually caused nor is he accused of inflicting justice. In other words, this is not about something he has done. On the contrary, it is about what he has not done and simply allowed it to continue by his passive behavior and his dismissal of this injustice until it is right in his face. In other words, until people might start talking about him.

The widow on the other hand is a victim of injustice, and she might just as well represent those who work for justice. Jesus speaks to this as well. He speaks a word of encouragement saying; “Do not sit around thinking that this is just the way it is. Stand up, speak up, and don’t quit. Especially do not let any obstacle get in the way.” Justice, which is one of the hallmarks of the Kingdom of God that Jesus has come to proclaim, is essential; and until it achieved for all, there is no Kingdom of God.

As he winds up this parable, Jesus shifts the focus to faith. Justice and Faith go together. That’s the problem for the judge. He has no faith. When Jesus asks that penetrating and sobering question, he is not asking whether or not he will find devotion, piety, candles and incense. He is asking if he will find justice, and for this we must pray without ceasing, without discouragement.

Prayer is no substitute for action however. It is like a beam thrown from a flashlight before us into the darkness. It helps us to go forward, it encourages us act. Prayer is not an escape from life but a journey into the heart of life. We learn to stand on our own feet before God and the world, and to accept full responsibility for our lives. The main and final purpose of prayer as we see it in the prayerful life of Jesus is to foster our relationship with God. This is the most important thing of all. This is the anchor of our spiritual lives which is not an extra life, but the life of our real selves. This kind of prayer is not asking things of God, but receiving what God wants to give and of shaping us into the people God has made his own, holy, and redeemed. Prayer is its own reward. It enriches us. It enables us to live not only more spiritually, but more deeply, more fully, more justly and therefore more authentically like children of God.

Habakkuk 1, 2-3, 2, 2-4 + Psalm 95 + 1 Timothy 1, 6-8, 13-14 + Luke 17, 5-10

October 2, 2016 Aboard the MS Veendam

Faith is not a thing that we pack up and carry around with us. It is not something that we can measure out in a glass or weigh on a scale. Faith is a relationship with God, and I believe that this is what the disciples are asking for as this episode of Luke’s Gospel unfolds. They have been on the way to Jerusalem with Jesus for some time. They have seen what he does and listened to what he says. What they are beginning to discover is that this man has an extra ordinary relationship with his father, and they want one too. Because it is a relationship, it is not a matter of how much, but of how deep, how lasting, how real, and how personal it is. In other words, it is about quality, not about quantity.

In response to the disciples then, Jesus uses a relationship as an example: the relationship between a servant and a master. It was a relationship that they would have easily understood, because there were plenty of masters and servants around. Now the cultural age in which this Gospel is formed was dominated by the notion of “merit”. Everything was earned, and when you did something you had a right to expect something in return. That was how it worked between masters and servants. Servants did their work and masters protected them. The servants had a right to expect that. This was all based upon an idea at the time that suggested that if you kept the Law (God’s commandments) then God owed you salvation. Jesus comes along and rejects this whole idea. God does not owe us anything. In doing so, Jesus emphasizes the sheer goodness of God, and in the light of that, there is nothing left to do except acknowledge that after all is said and done, we are only servants.

In his relationship with the Father, Jesus realized his total dependence upon the love God had for him. His response to that love was his unfailing obedience to the will of his father. It came out of love, not from some idea that if he did what God wanted, he would have some claim on God’s love. That love was already there. It was not the result of what Jesus did.  It was the result of who he was and who God was. This is the faith for which we must pray; the kind of faith that springs out of mutual love.

To God’s graciousness we owe everything beginning with the first breath we take. We recognize ourselves as “useless servants,” deserving nothing by our own account. Faith is always a choice we make choosing to be grateful servants who never forget how blessed we have been to see ourselves and others as brother and sister “servants” at the table of the Father. The only adequate response we can make to God’s unfathomable and immeasurable goodness is to live lives of joyful gratitude and humble service. Let that be the spirit with which we live and celebrate this week aboard this ship together.

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

September 25, 2016 St Peter Church in Naples, FL

Images of hell are found all through the scriptures, and they often have to do with fire and heat. If this is to be taken literally, we’re in trouble here in southwest Florida. It’s been hot the past several weeks! This may not be the “Paradise” that the Chamber of Commerce would like to portray. When Jesus speaks of hell, he often refers to a ravine outside of Jerusalem City that had been used by an earlier religious sect that sacrificed human life. Because of that, the Jewish people would not go near the place, and it became the city dump a wasteland outside of Jerusalem that was a smoldering, stinking place everyone avoided. The physical features are important: it was outside the city, it was always burning, and no one wanted to go there.

With that image in mind there comes this episode of Luke’s Gospel. What emerges with great importance here is this “chasm”, this separation that exists between that rich man and everyone else. It is a chasm that was there before he died. He just didn’t notice it. He did not notice a lot of things before it was too late. That poor man was right there at his front door. There is no way in the world he did not know Lazarus was there. He would have had to step over him or walk around him to go in and go out. But maybe he was so walled up already in his life that he never went out. The fact of the matter is; this rich man had simply learned to look the other way, and with Jesus, that’s a problem.  Urban life for all of us these days makes it really easy to do that. It is now very easy with our freeways and turnpikes to speed past neighborhoods where Lazarus still lives and never notice anything we don’t want to see. But those people are still there, and the result is the same.

As it was then and so it is still now, Lazarus and everyone like him remains invisible especially when we look the other way. It fascinates me the way Luke reports the parable. Notice that the rich man still does not see Lazarus. What he really sees is what Lazarus has! The rich man is not connected to what binds us together as human beings. He lives in privilege and power, and he begs Abraham, not Lazarus because he assumes that Abraham is a powerful influential figure like he is. He wants to order Lazarus around like one of his servants, because he thinks he’s still so privileged. All that did is deepen the chasm between himself and others. Then he tries to extend his sense of class and hereditary privilege by pleading for his brothers. This guy is clueless! What he needs is a change of vocabulary that would reveal a change of heart. Instead of saying “me” he needs to say “we”. He needs to demonstrate that he gets exactly what it is that Jesus is about with his ministry among us.  Clan, class, and privilege are gone in the Kingdom of God. Among those who are citizens of that Kingdom, there is only a concept of “ours” that includes everyone the Creator refers to as “mine.” God is the only one who can every say, “mine.” When that happens, death will appear as a promise instead of a threat, and we will not be content until that promise comes true in the age Paul writes of in his letter to Timothy.

That rich man like too many still today has locked himself into his own little world. While it might be fine for a little while, it does not take long to realize that there is a chasm that cannot be bridged, and it is very lonely on the other side. We must take careful note that this man is not condemned because of his wealth. It has nothing to do with where he finds himself. He is condemned because he did nothing with his wealth except wall himself up and look the other way. What Jesus condemns is using wealth to separate ourselves from others rather than enrich others. There is a responsibility that comes with wealth. We must put people before possessions and relationships before belongings. The hunger that drives us is not for material things but for a loving, personal relationship with the God who created us, and nothing else will do.

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

September 18, 2016 St Peter Church in Naples, FL

 This parable is so complicated and complex that skipping over it becomes a great temptation, or at least skipping the first part and diving right into the second part. It is easy and perhaps lazy to just think this is about making a choice between spiritual things and physical things or between God and Money. It might be helpful by the way to know that the word translated here as money is not spot on when it comes to what Luke means in the original text. Luke is not referring to cash. The most accurate translation would say “Mammon” which means much more than money. It means anything of value. It could mean property as in livestock or crops or a home.

 To get in touch with what Jesus is praising and with what he encourages here, we must stay with the first part of the parable. This is not simply about priorities in life or about comparative values or about how to win friends. It is not the dishonesty of this manager that gets the attention of Jesus, because some think that this may actually be a real situation that everyone knew about. What Jesus admires here and proposes as appropriate behavior for disciples is this man’s decisiveness and his quick decision to do something about his situation when he realizes that it will not last forever. There is no praise here for dishonesty or cheating. This parable is about taking action without delay when someone realizes that there will come an accounting, a time to settle up with the “rich man.”

 Anyone who goes through this life thinking that there will not come a time for accounting and a time to stand before the “rich man” is a fool. The man in this parable is not foolish. For you and me, there will come a time to account for how we have managed what God has given us, not just money, but everything including this earth itself. As Pope Francis has reminded us again and again, how we treat this earth, its water, its air, its soil will be a matter for an accounting just as much as how we use all the other resources with which we have been charged and entrusted. It will not be wise to go for long fooling ourselves into thinking that God or “the rich man”, as this parable calls him, is not coming. “Give an account of your service” says this parable. “It’s going to come to an end.” There is the message, and this crooked manager shows us that a decisive action and a change in the way things are is called for. So Jesus suggests that we become clever and make some decisions quickly and wisely. This is what is praised in this parable: an awareness that an accounting is coming, and the need to change and do something about it.

 In a very subtle way, the cleverness of this “manager” goes far beyond just making friends for himself. The consequence of his decision is much more than being liked by those whose debts he adjusted. Those people, especially in that culture and time would have known that such generosity was not his alone to grant. What he really ends up doing is making the “rich man” look really good and really generous, because those people would have thought that this is what the rich man wanted the manager to do. That is clever, and making God look good or look like a generous God is very smart.

 So we proclaim today a Gospel that announces an accounting to come. We proclaim a Gospel that proposes a quick change from the way things have been in terms our management style, and some decisive action now on our part, for we are the managers here entrusted with quite a lot, entrusted the poor as well. What we do for them and what we do with them revealing a generous and loving God to them will gain us more in the eyes of that “rich man” than we might ever imagine.

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

September 11, 2016 on board MS Amsterdam

When I got on this ship last month, there was a lady quite distraught over the fact that she had lost her cell phone between the hotel and the ship. With my phone and that of another passenger, we made some calls to the hotel and to the shuttle company to no avail. Later when her luggage was delivered to the room, the phone was found in her luggage, and she was a happy lady. Then at the first of this week, I received an email from a passenger who had been on the ship the week before asking if I could check the lost and found on board to see if something left in her stateroom had been turned in. It was, and in Sitka I mailed the item back to her. In both cases there was great relief and a lot of joy.

The experience told to us in this Gospel is very real to everyone of us who lose things and find them again. Luke sets up this chapter of his Gospel in an ever more intense way. Sheep, coin, son is the progression as he leads us deeper into what he wants to reveal about God and to what he expects from disciples of Jesus Christ. What is constant in each of these parables is the emotion or the response of Joy. What he reveals about the nature of God is consistent in each parable: a patient and consistent seeking of what is lost. This is a God who, by our judgement, seems ridiculous. Leaving 99 at risk while searching for 1 is silly. Tearing up the house and burning more oil than the coin is worth makes no sense, but that’s the point. Waiting, watching, running outside with a ring and robe and then throwing an extravagant party for a kid who has treated you like you were dead makes you think that this dad has already spoiled this kid enough and ought to make him pay for his behavior. But then, that’s not the God Jesus has come to reveal. This is a God of Joy who is actually crazy with love for us. If you’ve ever been crazy in love with someone, you know very well that you don’t act predictably and are likely to do some wild and wonderful things.

Joy, in the end, is what these parables reveal about God, and Joy is what Jesus has come to bring and to proclaim. Joy must be the first and obvious sign of disciple of Jesus. To make the point, Luke gives us that other son who is anything but joyful. His problem is that he thinks he deserves everything, and the saddest thing we see about him is that he is without love. He does not love his brother, and is even without love for his father. We should notice that he never once speaks to his father respectfully nor lovingly. He refers to his father as “you” without a hint of respect or love. His resentment, his anger, and his jealousy make it impossible for him to enter into the joy and share the love the father has for them both.

Now in the morning we will all shortly head for home, and I hope that most of us will be welcomed there by people who love us, and in that love we shall again experience a kind of Joy that reveals something about our faith. I have begun to believe that Joy, like faith is something we must choose. Few of us have had any great or profound religious experience or been face to face with God. We have simply had to choose to believe or not believe. We all know people who have simply chosen not to believe. It is much the same with Joy. In the face of tragedy, sin, our own brokenness and the sadness we experience from time to time we have every opportunity and sometimes every reason to be angry, resentful, and jealous. We can choose to stay that way, or we can choose be joyful recognizing and choosing to share in a kind of Joy that is divine.

Fifteen years ago on this date something happened because of people who were resentful, angry, and jealous of us. Hate overwhelmed them and led them to choose violence and death rather than peace and life. Today we look back and we look ahead. Today we proclaim a Gospel of Joy because we believe in a a God of Mercy, renewing our faith through this Eucharist making sure that we shall not stand outside when the party has already begun. We choose Joy. We choose life. We choose peace. We choose Jesus Christ.

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

September 4, 2016 on board MS Amsterdam

A few weeks ago much of this country had a welcome distraction from political advertisements and speeches as athletes from all over the world competed in Rio. Just the presence of those young people in Rio was the real story not whether they won or lost took home the gold, silver, or bronze. The score keepers had their lists, but to me it was a story of sacrifice and commitment told over and over again. In my extended family, we have an Olympian who competed in the winter Olympics in Tokyo. I know for a fact what his parents sacrificed to get him there, and I know what it took on his part in terms of practice and training early in the morning and late at night while continuing studies at school. It went on from the time he was ten till he was twenty five years old. I suspect many of you may also know a story like this from your families or friends. This story of commitment and determination, of sacrifice and suffering is there in any life that has some glory. As I said however, it’s not about winning or losing. It is simply about being there and being a part of it. Those young people who never mounted a podium came home with something just as valuable as a medal when they eventually tell their story.

There is a kind of parade going on in this Gospel, a march to Jerusalem. The crowds seem to be growing as people fall in behind Jesus. Some are there as spectators, and some are there because they want to be part of what they think is going to happen in Jerusalem. The apostles certainly were marching along quite confident that they were on the way to victory, and many others surely hoped that Jesus would enter that city and be the messiah they hoped for restoring the glory of Israel, sending the Romans back to Rome, and lifting the burdens the Pharisees had imposed upon them all.

Jesus had a different sense of this journey to Jerusalem. He did not see it as a victory march but rather as a funeral procession: a funeral for himself. The closer he gets, the more serious he becomes. The more he senses the way others are looking at this journey, the more he feels the need to bring them around to the truth because the destination was not really Jerusalem. The destination was the “right hand of the Father.”

When Jesus called his disciples to follow him, he was not enlisting part time or seasonal volunteers, he was calling those who would be his own to total unconditional and persevering commitment. This text is not really addressed to those who are just along for the ride, to those who expect to be entertained, amused, and maybe cash in on the consequences at the end. It is addressed to those who have begun to listen, to follow, and to hope that what Jesus has promised will be theirs.

We hear three different conditions for discipleship in today’s reading.

First, a disciple must prioritize relationships in life. One’s primary relationship must be centered on Jesus. From that single relationship, all other relations, including family and self, can be ordered. It’s like those young people in Rio. You run with runners. People who are going to distract you from your dream have no part in your life. People who share your same goal will encourage you and push you bringing out the best.

Second, a disciple must be willing to suffer. The “cross” of Christ should be the guiding image and template by which disciples come to understand the divine, as well as come to understand the purpose in one’s life. This suffering does not necessarily mean something physical. It’s like the suffering of those young athletes who gave up party nights with friends to get up early and practice while everyone else is in bed in the early hours of the day.

Third, a disciple must “renounce all his possessions.” Dependence on material goods and wealth serve only to distract a disciple’s total commitment to God and the mission of discipleship that follows. What we have is a means for getting where we need to go, and a disciple always looks upon what they have been given with an eye toward what they are to do with it.

So as our week long adventure into the beauty of God’s creation comes to a end in the morning, we take with us the encouragement of this Gospel. Renewed and refreshed after these days away from all other distractions, we can step ashore and head for home remembering that all the days of our lives are a journey to the Right Hand of the Father. We are reminded of what getting there will ask of us, and we are always assured that this not a journey we ever have to make alone.

22^nd Sunday of Ordinary Time

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

August 28, 2016 on board MS Amsterdam

Sometimes I wonder why Jesus ever went out to eat. When you start to pay attention to all the stories, it seems as though every time he went out there was some commotion and controversy. He goes to Bethany and there is a fuss between Martha and Mary. He accepts an invitation in another place and there is contention about hand washing. Then he goes somewhere else, and everyone is upset because some woman is touching him. At another meal some are complaining that eats with sinners, and finally there he is in Jerusalem, as the hand of a betrayer is reaching into the same dish. Yet, even though these occasions are not refreshing and peaceful, they are never boring, and the truth of the matter is that in choosing all of these episodes Luke is revealing something very interesting and true about the church of his time which is hardly different from the church of our time. The church in which we continue to discover and celebrate the presence of God still faces the same challenges the church faced when Saint Luke was putting all this together.

There are two parts to this incident at the home of leading Pharisee. The first part is the one I think most of us like to pay attention to. The obvious lesson on humility spoken of with such a simple illustration about seating arrangements gives us a lot to think about. Perhaps that is why we often skip over the second part. We like to think of ourselves as guests, and the practical suggestion that we not get into some embarrassing squabble about who sits where is easy to understand. The obvious message here is that seating arrangements do matter to Jesus, and those who think that their dignity is established by where they sit or who they sit with are not thinking the way Jesus thinks.

Jesus has a vision of God’s future, and knowing who he was and where he was going freed him and allowed him to be exactly himself at every table. If it could only be so for us, things could be a lot different. Jesus must have laughed to himself at the whole picture of these guests shuffling around and the host trying to sort this out herding the guests into the right places. I like to think that Jesus was really the honored guest. The others were all confused wanting to sit next to him. Because he was sitting in the lowest place things got all mixed up among those who were so proud of themselves for being invited to a meal at the home of a leading Pharisee.

It was probably with a big grin that he leaned over to the embarrassed host and said: “Next time invite the blind and the hungry. They won’t notice where they sit as long as there is food.” With this comment the focus shifts to the second part of the story, and we might do better to take this part more personally than the first part. Instead of thinking of ourselves as guests, there might be something for us to learn about being hosts.

Every meal Jesus shared was an experience of communion, and Luke consistently uses meal as images of the Kingdom of God. There is no exclusivity when it comes to the heavenly banquet, and there are no places of honor. There is no “them” and there is no “us”, no “high place of honor” and no “low place.” Yet when Luke looked at his church, there was still an uncomfortable mood as gentiles and jews looked across the table at each other. There were Greeks and slaves, women and men pushing and slipping around for one place or another. The whole scene, and the message of this gospel asks us to look at ourselves and wonder if our congregations at home do not look a little too much like we do with a lot of people missing. It is my experience as priest that one of the most segregated places left on this earth are church congregations where everyone looks a lot alike and where strangers too often fell strange and out of place.

At the time of Jesus and at the time of Luke, sharing a meal was a profound act of solidarity. To sit at a table with someone implied that you shared a relationship with them, that you prayed together with them because you could not eat without praying. What Jesus asks and proposes at the home of this Pharisee is that like him we must open ourselves and for that matter our table and our churches to those who are hungry for food and for friendship to those who are not going to worry about where they sit as long as they get to sit. When we begin to get this right, every meal will be a taste of the Kingdom of God, and every meal will bring us all into true communion, unity, and peace.

21^st Sunday of Ordinary Time

Isaiah 66, 18-21 + Psalm 117 + Hebrews 12, 5-7, 11-13 + Luke 13, 22-30

August 21, 2016 at Saint Peter the Apostle Church in Naples, FL

As some of you may know, I travel perhaps bit more often and further than many people my age. The experience is growing more and more unpleasant. I think when I was younger trips were as much fun as the destinations. Mom packed great treats for us that would be offered just before one of us in the back seat would say, ‘How much longer?” or “Are we there yet?” These days it is a whole different experience. Plane travel is the most unbelievable torment not all of which is caused by the airline’s belief that we are all about 5’ 4” and our bottoms and shoulders are all less than 22 inches wide. I do believe that their decision to make more money by charging for checked baggage has contributed to it, so watching what people carry into an airliner these days is absolutely amazing. For one who usually travels lightly, the purses, bags, sacks, suitcases, garment bags, and now dogs and cats that people cram under the seat and stuff into overhead bins designed for briefcases is amazing. It not only takes longer to get everyone in, it seems to take longer to get every off. It adds to a measure of hostility that is already there because you’re late. So, many plan, scheme, and pay extra to get on early and capture what limited space there is. All of this makes today’s Gospel as timely now as it was the first time Jesus spoke these words.

The question that prompts this conversation and these parables is perfectly sensible in an age when there was only so much to go around, and things always did run out. So wondering about how this salvation thing was going to work was not out unusual. Add to the fact that people in those days probably could and did carry all their personal belongings with them whenever they went somewhere makes sense again. In his preaching Jesus has already upended the usual thinking that those who have the most are the ones blessed by God and most favored. So curiosity about how and who would get into the Kingdom of God was worth thinking about.

It never occurs to us living in this land of plenty that somehow there might not be room for us in the Kingdom of Heaven, but the Gospel we proclaim today would call into question our thinking and our behavior. Jesus makes it clear that we can be saved, but getting there is not easy and we will have to shed of few things to make it. Too much stuff, too many unresolved issues is going to make it harder if not impossible. The door is small and narrow – we are pilgrims who need to travel light. Unforgiven offenses, grudges, prejudice, hatred, racism are all things that will not fit through the narrow door. We need to decide what matters and what does not, and take the time now to look at what kind of baggage we carry.

That second parable states the case even more firmly. That door is not going to be open forever. Delay or putting off what we need to do to prepare is dangerous because entrance into the Kingdom will have nothing to do with who we know or the stuff we have piled up. It will have to do with how carefully and how successfully we have conformed our lives to the one who leads us there. One look at that cross tells us everything. When he entered into his glory and came back before his Father, he had nothing left having breathed his last and poured out his blood.

“It is what it is” the saying goes. This is how it is, says the Gospel. He door is narrow and we will be wise to travel lightly having shed anything at all that slows us down, and the door will sooner or later be closed once and for all. It would not be wise to be found on the outside. Excuses, name dropping, and for that matter any other claim will go unheard. A simple faithful life focused on the destination is what it takes. Our claim on a place there will have nothing to do with where we’ve lived, who we know, or for that matter, what we’ve done except conform our lives to his.

20^th Sunday of Ordinary Time

Jeremiah 38, 4-6, 8-10 + Psalm 40 + Hebrews 12, 104 + Luke 12, 49-53

August 14, 2016 at Saint Peter the Apostle Church in Naples, FL

Fire shows up a lot in the Bible. There is a bush on fire in front of Moses. There is a pillar of fire that leads the Israelites through desert nights. Fire burns in the golden Temple Lamp, it licks up the waters of Carmel, and it anoints the lips of a prophet. John the Baptist comes proclaiming and preparing for one who would come with a Baptism of fire and the Spirit. Then this holy fire that always signals God’s presence takes flesh in Jesus Christ, who is the earth’s firelighter.

These verses must not be taken literally. This is the Jesus who prayed and pleaded for unity, “That they may all be one.”  This is the Jesus who rebuked the disciples who wanted to call down “fire from heaven” upon those communities who had not welcomed them and their mission with the Gospel. These verses should lead us to think of Pentecost and the Fire that came upon those gathered in that upper room. This is a fire that changes human hearts and the direction of human lives. It is a fire that brings courage where there has been fear and timidity. It is a fire that signals the presence of God, a presence that calls for a purification of those who stand in the presence of the Divine. It is fire that draws those into the light who have been in darkness, and a fire that warms those chilled by loneliness and isolation. It is a fire like the burning bush that leads God’s people into covenant and faithfulness.

My friends, none of can afford to forget what happens to us all on the day of Baptism. We are given a candle lit from the fire of Easter, from the candle carried into every darkened church, from a candle we bless with the holy name of Christ. He is the light. He is the fire. He is the one who has called us out of darkness and anointed us with His Spirit to bring light and warmth to a dark and cold world. As he says every time his words are spoken, you cannot put this light under a bushel.

In ancient cultures of nomadic peoples, there was always someone who carried the fire from place to place. Without matches or lighters, keeping the flame and the fire as they roamed about was essential to their very life. Water and Fire are perhaps the most primitive elements of life. It is these primal images that Jesus uses today speaking of his own upcoming sacrifice. It is a Baptism of fire he speaks of. It is an image of life, of promise, of hope that Luke puts before us. Rather than stir up fear, these verses for people of faith stir up hope and renewed sense of who we are as a people of light filled with the fire of the Spirit.

We are the firelighters of this earth now, a people enlightened by Christ, a people who have taken the fire to be spread everywhere upon the earth: not to destroy or consume, but to purify, warm, and brighten.

The days in which we live suggest to us that faith and religion are private matters reducing the church to a kind of private club that holds meetings now and then to talk about the old days when Christ was here. Really? Where is the fire? Jesus came to light a fire on the earth. All that is left of that fire is you and me. (There’s too much smoke these days.) The church for which Luke was first writing was a church living through a time of great internal division and strife. Jewish converts cast out of their synagogues and at odds with family members over their love for Christ and his promise of the Kingdom were hurting. These verses are intended to give them courage and some comfort in the midst of this turmoil not encourage them to be self-satisfied and dismiss anyone who did not share their experience and their faith. These verses do not justify nor give us permission to be comfortable with division and broken families.

When the real fire Christ is burning, it might be more like a campfire or the hearth in the center of a home rather than a raging forest fire. It will be a fire that draws people in intimacy, friendship, and love. It will bring warmth and comfort where there is none, and it will be a place where anyone feeling frightened in the dark can find hope and companionship. We have the light and we have that fire. Jesus would suggest today that we need to let it shine.

Wisdom 18, 6-9 + Psalm 33 + Hebrews 11, 1, 2, 8-19 + Luke 12, 32-48

August 7, 2016 at Saint Peter the Apostle Church in Naples, FL

It has been suggested that there are two ways of approaching life: one is either a planner or a pilgrim. Planners like to have complete control over their lives and with clear goals they plan each stage of their lives day by day, year by year. The calendar and the clock are their guides. They have carefully examined what society considers success, and they spend most of their time trying to match or beat the lifestyle and values of everyone else. Life for them is a great contest to see who wins which usually means having the most stuff. Often failing to achieve such high hopes and goals, they end up bitterly disappointed and very often alone like the man in last week’s Gospel. On the other hand, a pilgrim who accepts life as a gift that continues to unfold as it is lived knows that no matter how hard they may try, they know that they will never have complete control over what happens in life. Surprises and disappointments never get them down because they see those things as opportunities for growth. Unlike the planner, the pilgrim never feels entirely comfortable or at ease with the values of society.

Planners refuse to live by faith while pilgrims see no other way knowing that life is full of risks, confusion, and troubles. The pilgrims simply put themselves in God’s hands, and open themselves to God’s protection always celebrating the present moment because they know it is only there for that moment and should not be wasted. There is about the pilgrim a spirit of joy that springs out of hope. This hope is not just a wish that everything will turn out alright in the end, it is a way of seeing and believing that the hand of God is to be found in every moment and every experience of life. This is a kind of hope that nurtures real Joy, a Joy that is divine, a Joy that springs from the very deepest conviction that we live in God, we live by God, and we live for God.

Abraham in the second reading today is the great example of the pilgrim. In him there is no planning, no scheming, no controlling. At the word of God he got up, left home and people and set out for a land God promised to show him. He went into the unknown, and the only compass he had was faith. We are his descendants inspired by that faith. Every day for us, who are honest about it, is journey into the unknown. We have no idea what’s going to happen next, but in spite of failures and frustrations in the past, we keep going homesick for a place where our hopes will be realized and where our true life will begin.

We should not forget that Abraham died without seeing God’s promise fulfilled, and like him, we too die after spending our lives in a journey to the Promised Land without reaching it because it isn’t here. Yet, like Abraham, we travel in faith and die in hope. For those of us who choose to be pilgrims rather than planners we gather in this place and proclaim with Joy this Gospel of hope together as members of a believing community. The faith we share together can support us when our own faith does not measure up, which is why we must be here even when we don’t feel like it or feel too good about ourselves or even God for that matter. Like the servant Jesus talks about today, we remain faithful to God and to one another. The real test of this faith is how we face setbacks and failures and whether or not they make us cry in discouragement or laugh with joyful hope. This, in the end, is the way we stay prepared: living in the present moment true one’s duty and responsibility.

After the final blessing at the end of Mass: One day an old monk was sweeping the floor in the monastery when someone asked him what he would do if he knew he was going to die within the hour. “I’d go on sweeping the floor,” was his reply. In other words, he would just go on attending to the duty of the moment