Homily for October 28, 2007 30th Sunday of the Year
The Gospel is the story in Luke's Gospel about the two people who went to the temple to pray. One was a Pharisee. The other a Tax Collector. The Pharisee recounted his goodness. The Tax Collector beat his breast and said, "Be merciful to me, a sinner." Which one was "saved."
In the past few weeks, we've been talking about planning and finances, and I want to continue that today. But first I want to say a word about the Gospel.
I heard a wonderful treatment of this Gospel this past week when I was on retreat, by a very plainspoken Scripture scholar, who began by saying Luke and the evangelists probably didn't have a clue what Jesus meant by the parables that he told. So when they told them in their Gospel, they added their own meaning.
So Luke adds the interpretation today that Jesus told this parable to people who were sure of their own righteousness and looked down on everybody else, and made it a nice pious example that if you exalt yourself you'll be humbled, and if you humble yourself you'll be exalted. That's all very good, and nobody would disagree with it. But if you look at it from within the parable, the trajectories of the parables of Jesus have certain things in common.
First, the Pharisee's not a bad guy. When I think of it, don't we all look forward to the time when we could stand up and describe ourselves to God by saying, "Oh, God, I thank you that I've done my best. Thank you"?
If you're Catholic, and a traditional Catholic, you'd say, "Oh, God, I thank you that I've kept my faith. I go to Mass; I contribute to the church; I follow all the rules. I thank you that I've been able to hang in there." Wouldn't we all like to say that?
If you're a fundamentalist, wouldn't you like to say, "Oh, God, I thank you that I've accepted you as my Savior, and that I'm saved, and that I'm not like the people who aren't saved" or however you define goodness in your life? Are you with me? Don't you look forward to being able to say, "I've fought the good fight, I've run the good race, I've kept faith; I've done my best to do what I'm supposed to do, and I thank you oh, God"?
That's not a bad prayer, is it? And that's not a bad thing to hope for. I think all of us in our own way hope for that. And so you imagine Jesus telling the story to his audience, and he said, "Two people went up to pray. One was pious and holy and just, and kept all the rules, and did everything right. And the other was a no good tax collector who made his living by cheating and extorting money from his own kind. Which one is saved?"
Well, if you were in Jesus' audience you'd say, "That's a no brainer I mean, the Pharisee, of course."
And Jesus would just smile and say, "No, I tell you, not the Pharisee, but the sinner."
Well, what's the point? And by the way, Jesus had a fondness for telling stories that took us out of our comfort zone. He had a fondness for telling stories that shook up our way of looking at what's right and what's wrong. What's the point?
Maybe the point is, “You're not God. You don't know how God thinks; you don't know the way God looks at things. God is God, after all. God can do whatever he wants. And you're not privy to God's plans and to God's judgments, so don't be so sure of yourself, whatever area of your life you apply it to. Don't be so sure that you know who belongs and who doesn't. Don't be so sure that you know who the good guys are and who the bad guys are. Don't be so sure that you know who's saved and who isn't, because you're not God.” Does it make sense?
I hope there's something about that that upsets you. If it just makes you feel good, then maybe you haven't been disoriented enough. Do you know what I mean?
Think of the worst person you can think of I won't ask you to name it but think of the worst, the least worthy, the person you're absolutely sure has to go to hell. And think of the person that you're absolutely sure would go to heaven. And imagine Jesus saying, "Don't be so sure."
Well, now, I've dug myself a hole. How can I apply that to giving? By the way, did you all get a mailing last week, with a pledge card and an encouragement to give? And you all got a mailing a couple weeks ago from the archdiocese? Well, some of us went to a seminar on faith, money, and giving, and as I thought of this Gospel and how to connect it, one of the people at that seminar said that the thing he hated to hear was, "’Give your fair share,’ because," he said, "I don't know what anybody's fair share is."
I don't know. I think I'm trying to do my fair share, and I've got all I can do to define it for myself. But I don't know what your fair share is.
By the way, I invited five different people to share today, too, about their ministry in the church and what it means to them. And do you know, all five of them responded by saying, "I'd love to, but I won't be there this Sunday"?
So what does that mean? Well, I think it means they have a life, and their life doesn't revolve around being available to me and my plans for the Sunday homily. I just don't know what to do with these people that have families, and that have priorities in their life, and that have things that they need to attend to. But you know, that's part of reality. We are all trying to juggle and to balance many things in our life. And I'm not in a position to judge the way anybody else does it.
I hope I can say I'm doing my best to do what I think is right, but I just want to encourage everybody else to ask that question of yourself: "What is right for me? What is it that God calls me to do? How important is my faith in my life? How important is this place? What role in my life does the church play? And all of the things the church does how does God call me to relate to those things."
I read some statistics last week that surprised me. One was that 64 percent well, one statistic I read, by the way, people who belong to hierarchical churches give less than people who belong to nonhierarchical churches. Does it make sense? I read a statistic that said 64 percent of Catholics want more input into the way their church spends their contributions. I wish that was true. When I read that I immediately thought, "Okay, we'll have a meeting to talk about the budget, and 64 percent of the parish will show up." Doesn't happen! So we must be doing something not right.
Last week, by the way, we asked you on 3 by 5 cards to submit some concerns that you want the committee doing strategic planning to think about, and you'll find a summary of those in the bulletin. And also in my letter in the bulletin, you will find a reflection on "What do your contributions to the church support?" Well, if you looked at it very narrowly, I would say they pay the light bill; they pay the cost of maintaining these buildings; they pay for a very small staff: Myself, full time -- some might question that -- two people who are part time, one of whom isn't even paid for by the parish, but paid for by St. Francis Hospital; and a two day a week bookkeeper; and a secretary.
With the staff that we have, my biggest worry is not how to get work out of them, but how to keep their expectations of themselves within the limits of the time that we pay them for, and how to keep them from wanting to take on more than we can reasonably expect of them.
But I think beyond that, think of the many things that happen out of this place. Think of the ministry to the women's prison, to the people in prison. Think of the many efforts to reach out to the poor and to feed the hungry, to respond to the needs around us. Think of the impact that Holy Cross has had on the neighborhood throughout the years. I think that's a good impact.
Look around you and see the people who are involved in many things. Think of the kids in our athletic programs. Think of the kids in school. Think of the many people in a variety of 12step programs who have come over the years to see this place as a spiritual home. There's a lot of good that is done out of this place, and we can't take credit for all of it. But somehow there's an infrastructure here that supports and sustains a lot of things.
And again, to connect back to the Gospel, I don't have a clue what any of you should be doing. When I look at our finances, I know that what comes in is not enough to pay the bills, so I know we cannot continue to operate the way we are operating. I know there are some people who are very, very generous, and I'm reluctant to ask them to give any more, because I know they're asking, "Where is everybody else?" But beyond that, I really don't know what is fair for us. I really don't know if our giving is what it should be, or if it's way below what it should be. And I don't know how to answer that question. But then again, I'm not God, and thank God for that.
But I think the thrust of the stories that Jesus tells is constantly to invite us to look at this circle of thinking we have, in which we are very comfortable with our assumptions about what's right and wrong, who's good and bad, who's in and who's out, and say, "Don't be so sure," but to constantly challenge us to broaden our circle of thinking, and to broaden the way we look at things, and to be open to God's influence.
Next Sunday, I hope the people I invited to speak this Sunday will be here. I know this is fall break, and a lot of people had plans for this weekend. But anyway, I hope between now and a couple Sundays, that you will just think prayerfully about the role that all of these things play in your life.
And by the way, I think just one other thing. I think it's fair to say that part of our spirit here at Holy Cross is that we do take very seriously the thought that we are not God, and that therefore we are not in the position to say who's good and who's bad, who's in and who's out, but that everybody belongs and everybody is worthy to be here. And we try to be very deliberate about that. And we're trying to be even more deliberate about understanding the ways that we might be called to live that out.
In the past few weeks, we've been talking about planning and finances, and I want to continue that today. But first I want to say a word about the Gospel.
I heard a wonderful treatment of this Gospel this past week when I was on retreat, by a very plainspoken Scripture scholar, who began by saying Luke and the evangelists probably didn't have a clue what Jesus meant by the parables that he told. So when they told them in their Gospel, they added their own meaning.
So Luke adds the interpretation today that Jesus told this parable to people who were sure of their own righteousness and looked down on everybody else, and made it a nice pious example that if you exalt yourself you'll be humbled, and if you humble yourself you'll be exalted. That's all very good, and nobody would disagree with it. But if you look at it from within the parable, the trajectories of the parables of Jesus have certain things in common.
First, the Pharisee's not a bad guy. When I think of it, don't we all look forward to the time when we could stand up and describe ourselves to God by saying, "Oh, God, I thank you that I've done my best. Thank you"?
If you're Catholic, and a traditional Catholic, you'd say, "Oh, God, I thank you that I've kept my faith. I go to Mass; I contribute to the church; I follow all the rules. I thank you that I've been able to hang in there." Wouldn't we all like to say that?
If you're a fundamentalist, wouldn't you like to say, "Oh, God, I thank you that I've accepted you as my Savior, and that I'm saved, and that I'm not like the people who aren't saved" or however you define goodness in your life? Are you with me? Don't you look forward to being able to say, "I've fought the good fight, I've run the good race, I've kept faith; I've done my best to do what I'm supposed to do, and I thank you oh, God"?
That's not a bad prayer, is it? And that's not a bad thing to hope for. I think all of us in our own way hope for that. And so you imagine Jesus telling the story to his audience, and he said, "Two people went up to pray. One was pious and holy and just, and kept all the rules, and did everything right. And the other was a no good tax collector who made his living by cheating and extorting money from his own kind. Which one is saved?"
Well, if you were in Jesus' audience you'd say, "That's a no brainer I mean, the Pharisee, of course."
And Jesus would just smile and say, "No, I tell you, not the Pharisee, but the sinner."
Well, what's the point? And by the way, Jesus had a fondness for telling stories that took us out of our comfort zone. He had a fondness for telling stories that shook up our way of looking at what's right and what's wrong. What's the point?
Maybe the point is, “You're not God. You don't know how God thinks; you don't know the way God looks at things. God is God, after all. God can do whatever he wants. And you're not privy to God's plans and to God's judgments, so don't be so sure of yourself, whatever area of your life you apply it to. Don't be so sure that you know who belongs and who doesn't. Don't be so sure that you know who the good guys are and who the bad guys are. Don't be so sure that you know who's saved and who isn't, because you're not God.” Does it make sense?
I hope there's something about that that upsets you. If it just makes you feel good, then maybe you haven't been disoriented enough. Do you know what I mean?
Think of the worst person you can think of I won't ask you to name it but think of the worst, the least worthy, the person you're absolutely sure has to go to hell. And think of the person that you're absolutely sure would go to heaven. And imagine Jesus saying, "Don't be so sure."
Well, now, I've dug myself a hole. How can I apply that to giving? By the way, did you all get a mailing last week, with a pledge card and an encouragement to give? And you all got a mailing a couple weeks ago from the archdiocese? Well, some of us went to a seminar on faith, money, and giving, and as I thought of this Gospel and how to connect it, one of the people at that seminar said that the thing he hated to hear was, "’Give your fair share,’ because," he said, "I don't know what anybody's fair share is."
I don't know. I think I'm trying to do my fair share, and I've got all I can do to define it for myself. But I don't know what your fair share is.
By the way, I invited five different people to share today, too, about their ministry in the church and what it means to them. And do you know, all five of them responded by saying, "I'd love to, but I won't be there this Sunday"?
So what does that mean? Well, I think it means they have a life, and their life doesn't revolve around being available to me and my plans for the Sunday homily. I just don't know what to do with these people that have families, and that have priorities in their life, and that have things that they need to attend to. But you know, that's part of reality. We are all trying to juggle and to balance many things in our life. And I'm not in a position to judge the way anybody else does it.
I hope I can say I'm doing my best to do what I think is right, but I just want to encourage everybody else to ask that question of yourself: "What is right for me? What is it that God calls me to do? How important is my faith in my life? How important is this place? What role in my life does the church play? And all of the things the church does how does God call me to relate to those things."
I read some statistics last week that surprised me. One was that 64 percent well, one statistic I read, by the way, people who belong to hierarchical churches give less than people who belong to nonhierarchical churches. Does it make sense? I read a statistic that said 64 percent of Catholics want more input into the way their church spends their contributions. I wish that was true. When I read that I immediately thought, "Okay, we'll have a meeting to talk about the budget, and 64 percent of the parish will show up." Doesn't happen! So we must be doing something not right.
Last week, by the way, we asked you on 3 by 5 cards to submit some concerns that you want the committee doing strategic planning to think about, and you'll find a summary of those in the bulletin. And also in my letter in the bulletin, you will find a reflection on "What do your contributions to the church support?" Well, if you looked at it very narrowly, I would say they pay the light bill; they pay the cost of maintaining these buildings; they pay for a very small staff: Myself, full time -- some might question that -- two people who are part time, one of whom isn't even paid for by the parish, but paid for by St. Francis Hospital; and a two day a week bookkeeper; and a secretary.
With the staff that we have, my biggest worry is not how to get work out of them, but how to keep their expectations of themselves within the limits of the time that we pay them for, and how to keep them from wanting to take on more than we can reasonably expect of them.
But I think beyond that, think of the many things that happen out of this place. Think of the ministry to the women's prison, to the people in prison. Think of the many efforts to reach out to the poor and to feed the hungry, to respond to the needs around us. Think of the impact that Holy Cross has had on the neighborhood throughout the years. I think that's a good impact.
Look around you and see the people who are involved in many things. Think of the kids in our athletic programs. Think of the kids in school. Think of the many people in a variety of 12step programs who have come over the years to see this place as a spiritual home. There's a lot of good that is done out of this place, and we can't take credit for all of it. But somehow there's an infrastructure here that supports and sustains a lot of things.
And again, to connect back to the Gospel, I don't have a clue what any of you should be doing. When I look at our finances, I know that what comes in is not enough to pay the bills, so I know we cannot continue to operate the way we are operating. I know there are some people who are very, very generous, and I'm reluctant to ask them to give any more, because I know they're asking, "Where is everybody else?" But beyond that, I really don't know what is fair for us. I really don't know if our giving is what it should be, or if it's way below what it should be. And I don't know how to answer that question. But then again, I'm not God, and thank God for that.
But I think the thrust of the stories that Jesus tells is constantly to invite us to look at this circle of thinking we have, in which we are very comfortable with our assumptions about what's right and wrong, who's good and bad, who's in and who's out, and say, "Don't be so sure," but to constantly challenge us to broaden our circle of thinking, and to broaden the way we look at things, and to be open to God's influence.
Next Sunday, I hope the people I invited to speak this Sunday will be here. I know this is fall break, and a lot of people had plans for this weekend. But anyway, I hope between now and a couple Sundays, that you will just think prayerfully about the role that all of these things play in your life.
And by the way, I think just one other thing. I think it's fair to say that part of our spirit here at Holy Cross is that we do take very seriously the thought that we are not God, and that therefore we are not in the position to say who's good and who's bad, who's in and who's out, but that everybody belongs and everybody is worthy to be here. And we try to be very deliberate about that. And we're trying to be even more deliberate about understanding the ways that we might be called to live that out.
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