A policeman stops a car and asks the driver, "Ma'am, do you know why I've pulled you over?" "Well it certainly wasn't for speeding, Officer," she answers. "No," he replies, "you weren't speeding. But I've been following you for awhile, which means I've observed you laying on the horn, making obscene gestures, and shouting rude comments to other drivers. So when I noticed your bumper stickers—Jesus is my copilot and Follow me to Sunday School—I couldn't help but assume that the car had been stolen..."
Make sure there's enough solid evidence to convict you of being a Christian! Do that by making a good Lent.
As most of you know,
I
went on a brief trip this past week
So
last Saturday night, I was packing my bags.
The
plan was to fly out of Montréal on my way to Texas,
and
as I was finishing up, I thought,
Which
is when, less than 24 hours before my flight,
I
made the unfortunate discovery:
my
passport had expired back in October.
As
I paced around the darkened rectory,
I
tried to figure out what I should do.
There’s
no way to renew your passport in Malone, New York,
at
11:00pm on a Saturday night—I checked.
Maybe
my enhanced drivers license would be enough?
I
checked that, too…and it wouldn’t.
Maybe
I could talk my way out of it—
after
all, wouldn’t they take a priest at his word?
While
I might be able to pull that off once,
there
wasn’t much chance I’d get away with it four times
before
returning home.
My U.S.
citizenship, of course, hadn’t been revoked…
…it’s
just that I didn’t have
any
current, valid credentials to prove it.
Finally,
deciding that I still really wanted to get to the ordination,
I
broke down and bought all new plane tickets—
now
flying out of Lebanon, New Hampshire,
at
a much higher price,
and
with much less desirable connections.
It
was a humbling and costly mistake.
We’ve
just heard again the familiar tale
of
the call of Simon Peter, the fisherman.
It’s
a striking vocation story.
As
such, it’s frequently used to help people reflect upon
the
particular vocation God has for each and every one of us—
the
call to live singly or in Christian marriage,
to
enter the clergy or the religious life.
This
Sunday,
I
want us to reflect instead on our common vocation:
the
call we all share as the baptized.
We’ve
all been called to drop our nets and follow Jesus,
to
lead lives of real holiness,
to
become saints.
You
see, at Baptism,
we
became citizens of the kingdom of God.
Nothing
can change that:
our
citizenship cannot be revoked.
Our
baptismal calling remains throughout our lives.
But
we can—and often do—take it for granted.
As
an old saying goes,
“If
you were arrested and changed with being a Christian,
would
there be enough evidence to convict you?”
That
I once was baptized,
or
received the other sacraments in due course,
provides
a vital foundation, to be sure.
But
what about how I lead my life today?
What’s
my level of involvement and commitment?
In
other words: Do I have an up-to-date Catholic passport?
Do
I have current, valid credentials
to
prove my place within the Body of Christ?
Married
couples commonly renew their vows
on
significant anniversaries—
as
do religious sisters and brothers.
We
priests renew our priestly commitment each year
at
the Chrism Mass in or around Holy Week.
But
we will all have the opportunity
to
renew the promises of our Baptism
as
we celebrate the death and resurrection of Jesus at Easter.
It could
easily be a hollow ritual for us—
simply
repeating the words and going through the motions.
Or
we could take the coming 40 days of Lent
and
prepare to make this Easter a truly new beginning.
You
see, the Season of Lent—which starts this Wednesday—
is
the Church’s annual “grace period”
for
renewing your spiritual passport.
The
prayer and the fasting and the almsgiving—
all
the things we choose to “give up”
and
the extra things we promise to do—
should
be more than a quaint religious custom:
they
ought to aim at renewing our Christian life at its root.
Our
many varied Lenten observances
should
have but one common goal:
to
get back to the heart of our baptismal vocation.
Am
I becoming any more holy?
Do
I take seriously the call to become a saint?
Do
I hide behind my fears and feelings of inadequacy,
or
am I prepared to leave everything to follow Jesus?
Will
I take advantage of this coming Lent
to
assemble current, valid credentials, proving
beyond a doubt
that
I’m a committed disciple of Jesus Christ?
We
mustn’t forget, friends, that the stakes here are pretty high:
when
it comes to reaching life’s final destination,
failure
to keep our passport renewed
will
result in less-than-desirable connections,
and
may exact an extraordinary cost.
Our
baptismal vocation is not a goal that we pursue,
but
a call that we hear.
It’s
not directed by our desires, but by God’s.
And
deciding to obey the call of God’s voice
often
involves doing things we simply don’t understand.
Noah
had no clear idea why God told him to build that ark.
Moses
led his people to the shore of the Red Sea
without
a plan to get across it.
Mary
couldn’t understand how she would be
both a virgin and a mother.
both a virgin and a mother.
And
Peter lowered those nets again
even
after a whole night without a catch.
We
need to place out full trust in God’s plan,
rather
than in our own limited understanding of things.
What
we think is realistically achievable is far, far less—
our
expectations are often much, much lower—
than
the incredible possibilities God has in store
for
those who willingly embrace their vocation
and
heed his voice.
The
gospel story we hear this Sunday
is
of Simon Peter’s first call;
Jesus
would call him to follow many times more—
every
day, in fact.
The
same is true for you and me.
So
renew your spiritual passport!
Be always ready to go!
God wants to take you some amazing places!
Be always ready to go!
God wants to take you some amazing places!
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