Homily for March 15, 2009 Third Sunday of Lent

I just want to take a minute to see what parts of the story struck you or particularly stand out in your memory.
Yes? So they took ownership of it. "Not by your word anymore, but we've seen for ourselves." Okay. Anything else?
[inaudible]
When he said he will give you living water and it will become a spring to provide life. And what did the woman say to that, by the way? "You don't even have a bucket. How are you going to get this water?"
Did you see the different levels on which the conversation takes place? At first it's at a very superficial level, but it gets deeper and deeper. What about the tone? I was struck by the fact that Jesus was very respectful of the woman. He could have seen her and seen only a Samaritan woman, obviously of bad reputation because she's coming alone and not when the other women come to the well. The other women, by the way, would have come early in the morning, so she obviously didn't want to be with them.
And he could have talked down to her, but he didn't. I mean, it was a straightforward conversation. She, it seemed to me, kept trying to put him off, you know. And he was trying to get close to her, and she didn't want to let him in, but yet he broke through that. And eventually he was able to communicate both that he knew her, and knew all about her, but he accepted her.
And what he was looking for was something much deeper. The image of thirst comes to mind. We thirst for all sorts of things, don't we? And we want all sorts of things. And I think in the Gospel of John and from a perspective of our faith, there's the teaching that only God can give us what we truly want and what we truly need. Do you believe that? Don't leave me hanging. We know that we're supposed to believe that, don't we? But do we really?
Well, I don't know about you, but in my 68 years, I've looked in a lot of other places than God for what I want, and I've generally been disappointed in all of those others places that I've looked. But our thirst for what only God can give us gets displaced many times.
Have you ever thought that God thirsts for us? In my letter in the bulletin this week I quote a poem by Franz Wright that I've found very moving, and it is  let me see if I can read it exactly 

I call to mind your constant unrequited.
and preemptive forgiveness.
And remember You are not
and never were the object
of my thought,
my prayer
my words
But rather I
Was the object of yours.

Think of that for a moment. God is not the object of my desire; I am the object of God's desire. God is not the object of my prayer; I'm the object of God's prayer. And God is seeking to give to me so many things, and yet I keep pushing God away. So as we pray today, maybe pray that we might break through those things.

And today we celebrate on these three Sundays of Lent, the third, fourth and fifth, scrutinies. In the old days, by the way, they were efforts to scare the bejeebers out of catechumens and drive them away, to warn them that they'd better be serious. They're not that way today, but they are prayers over those who will be baptized at the Easter vigil. We asked them to write what they thirst for, and I know what each of them said. It will be in my mind as I pray over them. But they're the things that all of us thirst for: To know God's will in our life, to know what's right, to be able to give of ourself completely, to stand before God as a good man or a good woman, and to sort through the confusions of our life and to have peace.
So I'm going to call the elect up now and if you would come up, and I hope you're able to kneel around the circle here.
And I'd like to call our sponsors up. And maybe if we could all stand and pray over them.

Homily for March 8, 2009 Second Sunday of Lent

I don't know quite how to fit it in, but before I talk about the Gospel, I want to talk about the first reading. [The first reading was the binding of Isaac, the story of Abraham sacrificing his son Isaac.]
How many of you found that first reading disturbing? [Many] Well, there was a time when people thought that's what God wanted. There was a time when offering your son or daughter as a sacrifice to God was quite common, and in the growth of relationship with God, they came to see that this is not what God wants. I would just like to see this story as part of that growth of realizing what God really wants.
Now to the Gospel. [The story of Jesus’ transfiguration on the mountain.] I want you to pretend that you don't know the end of the story. Pretend that you haven't heard the whole Gospel, and that you're reading it for the first time, and you don't know where it's going to go. Forget about Peter, James and John. They're just characters in this story that you're reading, and Jesus is a character in the story that you're reading. And Moses and Elijah are very important characters that you've heard about from other stories that you've read.
Now, you're reading along in the story. It begins with: “The Gospel, the good news of Jesus Christ, Son of God. “ And then Jesus is baptized, and the heavens open, and a voice, and the Spirit comes on him, and the voice says, "You are my beloved Son, and I am well pleased."
And then he's in the desert in the wilderness, and he comes back and he works miracles, and he teaches. He multiplies the bread, he drives out demons, he cures people who are paralyzed, he gives sight to the blind. And he asks the disciples, "Well, who do people say that I am?" They give the opinions of other people and Jesus asks, “Who do you say that I am?”
Peter says, "You're the Messiah." And then he begins to teach them that the Messiah is going to be put to death and rise again.
Now, as I imagine myself reading along, when I get to that point I want to say, "Wait a minute, “Mr. Mark.” What kind of Gospel is this you're writing? You can't have a Messiah that dies. What kind of story is this? The hero dies? He gets rejected? What's this all about? Where are you going with this story?"
So maybe Mark at this point in the story, to put your mind at ease, says, "Jesus took Peter, James and John up the mountain, and he was transfigured before them." Behold, there he is in glory, with Moses and Elijah. The voice from heaven says [again], "This is my beloved Son. Listen to him." Pay attention about the cross.
In the Gospel glory and shame, exaltation and humiliation, resurrection and death, suffering and the glory of God are all held together in a strange sort of tension. You can't have one without the other.
I find it very easy to believe Jesus is the Son of God on the mountaintop.
By the way, I was on that mountain in the early 90s. It's not a very big mountain. It's only about 1800 feet tall, but it comes right up out of the plain, so it looks very big. It was a late January afternoon toward sunset. Everything was bathed in beautiful golden sunlight, and everything below looked beautiful. I could easily imagine the scene in the Gospel.
Then the Arab taxicab driver drove us down the mountain with hairpin curves, no guardrails, and dangerously close to the edge, and every wonderful, holy thought I had was scared out of me. That's what life is like, isn't it? Mountains and valleys, glory and exaltation, and I need both. Our religion is all about the glory and the dignity we have as sons and daughters of God.
You know, when I remember that, and when I am in touch with that, there's a little mantra that goes through my mind: Who am I? I'm a child of God. What do I have? Everything. What do I need? Nothing.
When I forget that I am a child of God, the mantra goes like this: Who am I? I'm a child of the world. What do I have? Nothing. What do I need? Everything. It's like there's this big hole inside, and I keep trying to fill it up with all sorts of things that don't do the job. That is the meaning of sin in its deepest sense.
So what does that say to us today? Well, as I was thinking, we are living in hard times. We're surrounded by hardship and misery. I was talking to our St. Vincent de Paul people the other day -- and by the way the number of home visits and the number of people willing to do that is going up. What is it like doing home visits -- putting them on the spot.
Melba: Well, since Shirley went with me this week, I'm going to ask her help sharing in this, too. It's  gosh, it's a real privilege, to start with. This week when we went out  we are getting more calls for home visits. There are more people in need. There are more people that weren't in need before, now that are, people who've lost jobs that have been selfsufficient up until now.
But, this week when we went out we saw a variety of that kind of thing, and the thing that I think  and Shirley mentioned this  the thing that I think that really impressed  and this happens over and over and over again  is we go to these people who have nothing, and some of these people really do have nothing. I mean, you walk into these houses that have no heat, sometimes the water's been cut off or is about to be cut off, they don't have beds, they don't use stoves and refrigerators, things that we take for granted. And they are grateful for anything we give them. And if we don't have stickers for a stove, they are grateful for anything else that we can possibly give them.
You're talking about  I can't remember the language you used  but "a child of God." I see this in these people all the time. And it's a really humbling experience because I'm not usually there. It also makes me very grateful, grateful for what I have, but also grateful that I have the opportunity to actually meet these kinds of people. I don't know, Shirley, how do you feel?
Shirley: Well, I was struck by several different things. I remember this one home we went to that was on the second floor, and they had no furniture except for one bed. And this young man  well, he's in his thirties, he's pretty young to me, or forties, I don't know  he was saying that his son was in a, his 15 yearold son was in a group home and that he was going to be released. So he was trying to set up a place for them to live. And, you know, we asked what he wanted, "Well, do you want a couch?"
"Well, that would be fine, yeah, if you can get that."
"And an end table and a lamp? How about a chair?"
"Well, no, I think we can get along without that. Somebody else might need that."
And then we talked about dishes, and he said, well, he doesn't have any dishes except some mugs. So we told him that, because there were just two people there, that we would be able to give him two plates and two bowls and two sets of utensils.
And he said, "Oh, that would be wonderful. I understand that everybody has need, and that's all that we need and we are grateful for that, we don't want to take any more than we need." And he also told us that he had just lost his job. He worked for the Salvation Army in their store and it was just a part time job, and that he, that people weren't coming to the Salvation Army to buy anything. So it was, what struck me is that they had the selflessness, I guess, the wanting of not to take more than they really needed and the concern at the same time for other people's needs.
It's a very humbling experience, and I could tell you the same story about three or four of the other families that we visited. Thank you.
Fr. Larry: Contrast that with people who want more and more, even though they know it's being taken away from other people who need.
Back and forth, overwhelming need around us, and yet, if we could see through the physical surroundings to the point where God is creating and giving life and calling people to life, we would be overwhelmed by the beauty of what we see. And this is what happened on the mountain. Yes, there is this man who is going to fail. He's going to be rejected. He's going to be put to death. But who is he, really? He is God's beloved Son, and God is saying, "listen to him."
Well, look around you. If you could see each individual here at that point where God is creating, breathing life into each individual and loving him or her as a beloved son or daughter, what would you see? Well, I don't know about you. Sometimes I get a glimpse of the mountain, and then I try to hold onto it like Peter did  let's build three tents and stay here  and poof, it's gone, but then the test is can I believe that what I saw was real and continue to live for it?

Homily for February 22, 2009

I was at O'Malia's downtown, and as I was driving through the parking lot. A homeless man in a wheelchair rolled in front of me. And I had to stop to let him go by, and he was muttering something under his breath. I don't know what he was muttering. I could guess, but that would all be projection on my part of what I might be thinking and feeling. But I couldn't help but imagine if I was out there in that nasty weather, crippled, going through that parking lot, I think I might feel pretty angry or pretty resentful. And what good would it do to be physically restored if someone were still filled with anger and resentment?
Today’s Gospel says that Jesus knew the thoughts of their heart. Maybe he knew something about what the paralyzed man was thinking. Maybe he read into his heart a sense of being rejected by God, or being alienated by God, or not being cared about by God.
So maybe what he was saying is, "I want you to know everything is okay between you and God, because you are a child of God." Isn't that what all of us want to know deep down inside? Everything is okay between you and God, and you are God's son or daughter. And more than anything else, that's what Jesus came to bring us.
And he read into the thoughts of the scribes and the Pharisees. They knew that Jesus could cure the man. They knew that he worked miracles. They knew that he drove out demons. Modern people read the Gospel and say, "Did he really work a miracle? What is a miracle?" We get all wrapped up in scientific stuff that has no relationship to reality of those days.
But they knew that he worked miracles. What they were wondering is what does it mean that he works miracles? And some of them said he works miracles because he's got an evil power. And others said he works miracles because God is at work within him. And that was the debate. So Jesus was saying, "To show you that what I'm doing is God, bringing us to unity, I'm going to do both."
Finally, a thought about the crowd. And this thought I got from reading a commentary by a theologian named John Shea. When the crowd was huddled around Jesus, what were they showing to the people bringing the paralyzed man? Their backside. So when we're all gathered around the altar, what are we showing to somebody who walks in the door? Our backside. What would have happened if they turned around and saw the paralyzed man? Maybe they would have made a path for him to come through. Maybe they would have been aware of something beyond themselves and their own need.
These are just my quick thoughts on the Gospel today. First the need for all of us to know we are okay with God, and God is okay with us; our sins are forgiven. But also maybe the suggestion, and then the other thing, be curious about each other.
There's a poem I've been praying with lately by a man names Franz Wright, and it says, "Beyond each face introduced me to the halting, disturbed soundless, ungrammatical words of other people's thoughts, everything I know is there but can't read.”
So I'm still curious about that homeless man I saw the other day and what he was thinking and what he was feeling. As we gather, look around, not in a nosey or intrusive way, but be curious. Who is the person next to you? What are the words of their thoughts, the halting, disturbed, ungrammatical soundless words of others' thoughts?