"The great lesson designed for us in this parable is
expressed in those words with which our Lord concludes: Watch because you know not the day nor the hour. The bridegroom in
the parable came in the middle of the
night, that is, at a time when he was least expected…. Not that he desires
to surprise us, for if he did he would not so often warn us; but that he
desires we would always watch, and be always ready, that so we may never be
surprised.…Oh, who can express or conceive the greatness of these heavenly
rewards, of these highest honors, of these never-ending joys, signified here by
our Lord's ministering in this manner himself to the servants whom he shall find watching!…Conclude to bear always
in mind this indispensable duty of watching, so frequently inculcated by the
Son of God, that so you may never be surprised and sleep in death. Carry always with you the lamp of faith to
enlighten yourself, but never forget that this light must be kept in with the
oil of good works."
The Lectionary gives us some rather rough readings for the
clergy this Sunday, doesn’t it?The
Apostle Paul sets out the ideal for Christian leaders: to share both the
gospel—which is the very word of God—and even to share something of ourselves,
building a true rapport of love with God’s people.But the prophet Malachi passes on a word of warning from the
Lord to his priests: You have turned
aside from the right way, and caused many others to falter; of your blessing I
will make a curse.And then
Jesus warns the crowds about the scribes and Pharisees—the religious
authorities of their day: You should do
as they say, but not as they do. They don't practice what they preach.
Rough words indeed!And, sadly, they still ring all-too-true today, as the scandals of the
last few decades have made painfully clear.We should be troubled by the reprehensible things some
priests have done.But we priests
should also examine ourselves about some things we have failed to do—more
specifically, some things we have failed to say.In the face of the surrounding culture, this is not an easy
time to be a faithful, uncompromising Catholic.It’s no excuse, but it’s not an easy time to speak up and
say what one ought as a faithful priest.
Now, this is probably when you figure: So he’s going to talk to us about abortion, or sexuality, or some other
hot button issue.Relax.No…at least, not this Sunday.
One subject we priests have failed to preach and teach about
in recent years is Purgatory.And
I think that’s the case for two reasons: speaking about Purgatory requires us
to consider two intertwined realities we’d rather forget: sin and death.
At a conference I attended last spring, a Catholic Hospice
nurse gave a fine talk to a room full of priests.I remember distinctly how she said to us: Fathers, do not neglect your duty to the
dying.It’s the most important
thing you do as priests: you prepare people to meet God.She was right.And that’s really something we priests
need to do for our people long before we’re praying at their deathbeds.
More than a month ago, Fr. Scott proposed that we do
something to remedy the situation and give a series of homilies on “The Four
Last Things”: death, heaven, hell, and judgment.Having just celebrated the feast of All Saints, the
commemoration of All Souls, and at this Mass praying by name for the 140
individuals whose funerals and burials have taken place in this parish over the
last 12 months, we begin today with a Catholic consideration of death—and along
with it, some thoughts on Purgatory.
Any clergyman or funeral director can tell you: the way we
mourn our dead in America has changed rather rapidly and dramatically in recent
years.In fact, many people don’t
even call them “funerals” anymore; instead, they plan “celebrations of life.”And—quite understandably—in search of
some comfort, folks frequently say things like, “She's an angel now” (even though
they didn’t exactly think of her in angelic terms while she was alive), and,
“He’s in a better place” (which isn’t all that hard to imagine, given the hardship
we endure in this world).
But is getting into heaven automatic—a guarantee—as we so
often speak and act?That’s not
what we read in the pages of the Bible.And it’s not what we find in the writings of the saints.It mustn’t be taken for granted—whether
for ourselves, or for our departed loved ones.For you and me, that means we need to get our lives in
order, to set our priorities straight, for a day of reckoning will come, and
there’s no escaping it.For our
dead, that means we need to do more than celebrate their lives, more than simply
remember.We mustn’t stop at
pulling out the old pictures and playing their favorite song.We need to pray for them—which is what
our Catholic funeral rituals are all about.That’s what those who have passed away truly need from us.They may have been good people—maybe
even really good people—but they were not perfect people.We will all, however, stand before a
perfect God one day, and to him we must render an account—priests and parishioners
alike.
The Church’s teaching on Purgatory has roots in the Old
Testament (e.g. 2Maccabees 12:39-46) and the practices of the earliest
Christians, who—even if they didn’t use the word—consistently prayed for their
dead…and why pray for the dead if you don’t believe your prayers can have any
effect?It’s best to think of
Purgatory more as a process than a place: the process of purification to become
as holy as necessary to enter the joy of heaven (cf. Catechism of the Catholic Church, 1030).Purgatory is only possible for those who have died in God’s
friendship—that is, in a state of grace, repentant of all mortal sin.It’s not a second chance, not an
opportunity to start over, not a “Get Out of Jail Free” card; Purgatory’s a
matter of taking care of unfinished business, of completing the soul’s deep
cleaning that we have already begun before death.
Scripture tells us that nothing unclean will be able to
enter God’s presence in heaven (Revelation 21:27).While it will be more or less intense, more or less
uncomfortable, depending on the sort of life we’ve led, Purgatory is the
definitive removal of any remaining impurities: sin, our attachment to it, and
all of its lingering effects.The
pains of Purgatory—often described in terms of fire—are not a temporary, lesser
hell intended to torment us, but are the side effect of the thorough purging
necessary to truly heal us.(Think
of it like physical therapy: it only hurts because God has to push you hard enough to help you get better.)
When a loved one dies, we miss them.We can also feel quite helpless in the
face of their passing, and wish there was something we could do.There is!Maintain your real and living connection with the faithful
departed.Don’t fail to aid them
at a time when they are unable to help themselves.It’s a good and pious custom to visit and care for the
graves of the deceased—the places where their mortal remains await the Day of Resurrection.But we should also
come to the assistance of their immortal souls, and we do that by our prayers, by
gaining indulgences, by doing penances, by performing acts of charity, and—of
supreme value—by offering the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass.
The Church’s doctrine of Purgatory might seem “old
fashioned” to some—best left on a dusty old shelf and forgotten.But I think it’s actually one of the
most consoling truths of our Catholic faith.I know all too well that I’m not who I want to be, who I
ought to be, in order to live in God’s presence forever.Plain and simple: I’m a sinner.If I could get frequent flyer miles in
the confessional, I’d be taking a lot of exotic vacations.Which is to say, if this life is my
only hope—I’m pretty much sunk!But
if I haven’t cut myself off completely from the Lord, if the work of my
purification can carry on and be completed after I draw my last breath—that’s
truly a great work of Divine Mercy.It’s a source of incredible hope.
Chris Stefanick is a husband, father of six, and one of the
most powerful and popular Catholic speakers in our country today. Last Thursday—All Souls Day—he released a
brief video on the Christian understanding of death that I’ve posted to the
parish website.I couldn’t say it
any better, so I’ll just repeat his words:
Death.It’s the final enemy of mankind.And even though it feels so
unnatural and shocking, everybody has to experience it.And the billions of people on this
planet will all be replaced by billions more in about a hundred years.Every single one of us has to die.
So how do you deal
with that uncomfortable fact?You
know, the Romans and the epicureans throughout history, they drowned that
reality with their wine.Buddhists
embrace that reality with the notion that we have to let go of our sense of
self now—it’s just an illusion anyway.You know, atheists: they try not to think about it too much.
But Christianity—it’s
the ultimate defiance to death.We
believe in the Christmas invasion.We believe in a God who was born behind enemy lines and walked through the
valley of the shadow of death with us.We believe in the Easter victory.We believe in life everlasting.You see, we Christians make peace with
death because we can look it in the eye and say, “We win.”
We weren’t made for
death.We were made for life, and
death’s days are numbered.Sure, we still have that gut-level fear of death, which is not a sign of
weakness; it’s a sign of being human.It’s OK.It keeps us from
playing in traffic and running with scissors.
I mean, we still have
to deal with the pain of death, which is very real. But a new light shines in the darkness. And all that pain, and fear, and
sadness, and even anger: it’s forever changed by Easter Sunday. It’s forever changed by the faith
that death isn’t a period; it’s a comma.
It’s forever changed by the hope of reunion with all those faces we miss
so much. And by the knowledge that
we don’t face death alone: we have a God who is walking with us. And we have an army of loved ones who
went before us who are cheering us on, right on the other side of that finish
line.
Did your parents ever play favorites among your brothers and
sisters?Or did you ever play
favorites with your own kids?Most
siblings joke about just who mom or dad loved best.In my family, it wasn’t a joke: with one sibling so clearly
more intelligent, handsome, and charming than all the others, of course I was
their favorite.Just kidding!!!
A study done a few years ago revealed that parents playing
favorites isn’t really a joke.It
turns out that 70% of fathers and 74% of mothers admitted to purposely giving
preferential treatment to one of their children.
That’s kind of disturbing news, isn’t it?
But what if I were to tell you that God himself shows favoritism
among his children?But—you object—God loves us all, and he loves us all equally.True enough.But if you read the Scriptures closely, you begin to see
that God repeatedly shows special treatment to some folks.Consider our first reading this
Sunday.As God lays out laws for
his people, he singles out foreigners and strangers, widows and orphans, the
poor as people deserving of favored treatment and protection.God has a soft spot for outsiders and
the vulnerable, and he expects us to do the same.God wants us, like him, to show extra care and compassion to
those who need love the most—maybe even to those who deserve love the least.
Who in your life right now, who among your neighbors, is
poorest when it comes to experiencing love?And what are you going to do about it?
Now, what if I were to tell that God’s love no only plays
favorites, but that it’s insanely jealous.It’s true.God
tells us so point blank, just a couple of chapters earlier in Exodus, while
giving the Ten Commandments: “I, the Lord,
your God, am a jealous God” (Ex 20:5).What is God jealous for?Well, God is jealous for your love, your trust, and your company.
God is jealous for your love.He won’t be content just being one more item on the long
list of people and things you love.God won’t even settle for being number 1.If there’s anything else on the your, God wants it to be
there because you love it for his sake.Of course God expects us to love him more than our house or our
car.He expects us to love him more
than our country or the Church.He
even expects us to love him more than our spouse or our children.God is jealous for your love, and so he
asks for your whole heart.
God is jealous for you trust.In what sort of things do we put our trust?Maybe we put stock in our intelligence,
good looks, or charm—the things that made us the favorite son or daughter.Maybe we see strength in our family
name, our influence, or our wealth.But all of those things can and do fail us.God wants us to leave no room for such idols, for such false
gods—demanding our undivided allegiance.God is jealous for your trust, and so he asks for your full soul.
God is also jealous for your company.Have you ever tried to have a
conversation with someone who can’t take their eyes (or their thumbs) off of
their Smartphone?They might say
they’re still listening…but how much of their attention are you really
getting?Imagine how often God
must have that experience when he’s trying to communicate with us!God’s purpose in creating us—in
creating all things, actually—is to enter into an exclusive, intimate
relationship with you and me—one that starts now, and is meant to last
forever.God is jealous for your
company, and so he asks for your entire mind.
God’s looking for more than a little affection, more than an
emotional response from us; he’s looking for a deep and total commitment.The Lord has every right to expect from
us our all.
God’s love is jealous, and it plays favorites.And both of those details come to the
fore as Jesus reveals the two greatest commandments in God’s law: that we must
love God with all of our heart, soul, and mind, and love our neighbor as
ourselves.To keep these is our
highest obligation.In fact, we
can’t be genuinely observing any other of God’s laws if we are not first keeping
these two commands.
Now you know!
God plays favorites. So be
sure to love those whom God loves best: love your neighbors who need it
most. And God is insanely
jealous—jealous for your love, your trust, and your company. So give him what he desires more than
anything: all of your heart, all of your soul, and all of your mind.
When I was born in Plattsburgh, the city had a most unique
mayor: Roland St. Pierre—Father
Roland St. Pierre, a Roman Catholic priest.With the permission of his superiors, in 1971 he resigned
his position as pastor of my home parish in order to run for office.He beat the incumbent that November by
a margin of almost 2-to-1, and went on to be reelected twice.
Have no fear: I’m not about to announce to you that I’m
running for mayor of Malone!
Fr. St. Pierre’s time as an elected official certainly
raises the issue of the appropriate relationship between Church and State,
between religion and politics.That’s not a new concern, as this Sunday’s gospel reading makes
clear.Jesus gives us one of his
best one-liners—a catchy sound bite long before our Popes and our Presidents
began to “tweet”: Render unto Caesar what
belongs to Caesar, and unto God what belongs to God.
It’s a deceptively simple phrase.
To begin with, Jesus affirms that there is a legitimate
distinction between these two spheres of influence.Render unto Caesar
what belongs to Caesar…Like
right religion, a just government has a valid and crucial role to play in the
world: making laws, giving order to society, providing for our defense,
negotiating treaties, and—yes—even levying taxes in order to pay for all of
this.It’s not a question of
either/or, but of both/and.Which
is why it should strike us as strange that a priest would be an elected government
official.It crosses and tangles
the lines.In fact, Canon Law now completely
forbids it.(Sorry, Fr. St.
Pierre!)We can’t allow politics
become our religion.
…and renderunto God what belongs to God.And what, my friends, belongs to God?Everything, of course—even Caesar!While religious leaders shouldn’t seek
to be political leaders, that doesn’t mean the Church doesn’t have anything to
say to the State.In fact, calling
politicians to account is an essential part of the Church’s mission, which we
especially remember on this World Mission Sunday.As Christians journeying onward toward the next world, we
have a God-given duty to keep making this one better—working for peace and
justice, speaking up for those with no voice, whether that’s the unborn child,
the refugee, or those approaching their last days on earth.
But Jesus gives this teaching—quite important in and of itself—in
a very particular context that reveals to us another critical life lesson (one
which I never recognized before hearing Bishop Robert Barron recently reflect
on this gospel passage).
In case you haven’t noticed, the Pharisees rather dislike
Jesus.In fact, it’s not too much
to say they hate him, since we know they will eventually conspire with other
Jewish leaders (whom they would normally consider enemies) in order to have
Jesus eliminated.And so we find
them this Sunday setting a trap for him.
They begin with some false flattery in their effort to trip
him up, asking for his opinion on paying the census tax.Paying taxes has always been
unpopular—and particularly so in this case, since we’re talking about money the
Jewish people must pay to their pagan Roman conquerors.The Pharisees know that if Jesus says
they should pay, he will be betraying his own people—and therefore alienate
much of his “base.”But they also
know that if Jesus says folks should not pay, he’ll run afoul of the Roman
authorities—and they can be sure those authorities will find out, since some
Herodians are standing nearby, who’re in pretty thick with the Romans.
Have you ever noticed just how mean religious people can be
to one another?We see it between
the faithful of different religions, and of different denominations, but it’s
most disturbing of all when it’s Catholics versus Catholics.Two people, two groups, have a
difference of religious opinion, and they end up at each other’s throats.They don’t simply want to convince
their opponents otherwise; they attempt to all out destroy them.If you don’t believe me, look at Catholic
news sites online and read some of the comments.They’re often filled with cruel and hurtful words.When religion gets so politicized, it
results in character assassination at its best, and something like 9/11 at its
worst.
This, unfortunately, isn’t reserved to the Internet or international
affairs; I’ve seen it all too many times right here in our own community.
We can never serve the God of love by hating other
people.Sure, we can respectfully
argue about differing positions.We can—and should—kindly and constructively correct others when they are
mistaken.But there’s absolutely
no room for hate.It only serves
to undermine the gospel we’re on a mission to spread.When we speak the truth, it must always be in love.
Jesus shows us this other way.He sees right through the Pharisees’ trap, and refuses to
play their game.That’s the great
strategy of his comeback: he doesn’t take the bait; he doesn’t fight fire with
fire; he avoids being drawn in to battle.If Jesus had responded with a counterattack, he would have only given
them justification for their suspicion and hatred.That simple but effective strategy is not a bad one for you
and I use to use still today!
Render unto Caesar
what belongs to Caesar, and unto God what belongs to God. Let us never neglect our duty to speak
up as Christians on the matters of the day, yet without allowing politics to
become our religion. And let us
also avoid the temptation to make our religion something political. We must never look on each other in
terms of winners and losers, but always as true brothers and sisters in Jesus
Christ—all children of one and the same God.
In the spring of my first year of seminary study in Rome, my
parents came over for a visit.This would be their first transatlantic flight, and I wanted to be sure
everything went smoothly during their stay in the Eternal City.I met them at the airport, brought them
into town on the train, and got them settled in their room.My main objective for the rest of that
first day was to keep them awake—knowing that going to bed at a somewhat normal
hour would help them with the jetlag.So, despite their being rather tired, we walked around quite a bit that
afternoon.
Before heading out to get an early supper, I stopped by the
seminary where I found a message waiting for me at the main gate.It contained some wonderful news: we’d
been granted front row tickets for the next day’s papal audience, which meant
we were going to be able to meet—and get our picture taken with—Pope John Paul
II.So we immediately walked some
more—a brisk half hour across the city—to pick up our prized tickets before the
visitor’s office closed.
In the midst of their exhaustion, and while verifying all
the details for our early start the next morning, I remember my mother’s lone
preoccupation (and she won’t be too pleased that I’m sharing this): she didn’t
have a hairdryer.For the record,
I just looked over those 20-year-old photos and, I must say, even without a
dryer, her hair looks much better than mine!
It’s only natural that we want to look our best—better yet,
be at our best—when we have the high honor of meeting someone of
importance.And that basic human
instinct lies behind the parable we’ve just heard.Often enough (and I’ve done this myself), a preacher will
use this gospel story to remind folks that it’s a good idea to dress up nice for
Mass.But the message Jesus wants
to convey runs far deeper than fashion sense or etiquette.
Jesus tells the story of a king throwing a wedding banquet
for his son; as in all his similar parables, we know that the king must be God
the Father, and the king’s son is, of course, Jesus himself.
Have you noticed in recent years that couples are often
sending out two invitations for their wedding: a first that says, “Save the
date,” and a second that contains all the details?That’s not a new trend, but was the common practice in
Jesus’ day: messengers would be sent out first to tell guests that the big day
was coming, and later to let everyone know the feast was now ready.Who are these two sets of
messengers?First come the
prophets, telling people to prepare, for the Day of the Lord is coming; next sent
are the Apostles, who announce that what was long-awaited has now arrived.And who are the people on that initial
guest list?The people of Israel,
of course.
How is the invitation received?Some choose to ignore it, reneging on their original
acceptance—they have “more important” things to do; others outright spurn it,
attacking the messengers and in so doing rebelling against the one who sent
them.Both responses have dire
consequences.The king’s reaction
is rather startling and severe, but Jesus thus manages to get our attention and
make it clear that, while this is simply a story, the message it conveys is
pretty serious—in fact, a matter of life and death.
When those first invited prove themselves unworthy, the
invitation is then extended far and wide: the mission turns to the
Gentiles.And with his banquet hall
now full, the king goes out to work the crowd a bit, and his attention falls on
one guest in particular: a man without a wedding garment.Don’t be fooled into thinking that a
poor man is being scolded because he failed to rent an expensive tuxedo;
scholars tell us the man simply hadn’t put on a clean outfit.With little notice, my mother managed to
find a way—without a hairdryer—to fix herself up to meet the pope; even with a
last minute invitation, one can find the time to change out of dirty work
clothes before attending a royal wedding.And as it was for those who disregarded or despised the original invitation,
so too there are consequences for those who would presume to partake of the
feast when not properly prepared.
Hence Jesus concludes, “Many are invited, but few are
chosen.”God’s kingdom is open to
all, but not all will prove worthy of it.Some will decline the Lord’s invitation, and so exclude themselves;
other will accept the call, but then fail to follow through on all of its
demands.
So, what does all of that mean for you and me in the here
and now?To figure that out, we
need to answer two more questions.
(1) What character is missing from the story?The bride, of course!It’s kind of hard to have a wedding
without her.If the king’s son is
Jesus, then what new reality is being celebrated?The marriage of heaven and earth, of God and man, of Christ
and the Church.Which means that
you are the bride!This parable is
about God’s passionate desire to enter into a personal relationship with you,
to be intimately united with your soul.
(2) And what is the wedding garment we’re expected to
wear?The righteousness that comes
with conversion to Jesus Christ.What needs changing is not our clothing, but our lives; what needs to be
washed clean is not our laundry, but our hearts.We need to “put on Christ” (cf. Rm 13:14, Eph 4:24, Gal 3:27).
God has graciously extended the invitation, but as to a
response, the choice is completely up to us.This parable reveals four possibilities:
(A) We can ignore it or quietly decline, going back to our
previous pursuits, acting as if nothing was really changed by the life, death,
and resurrection of Jesus, as if nothing new or different is required of us.
(B) We can respond with indignation, get defensive or
hostile, because the invitation to accept a Savior also means admitting that
I’m a sinner who needs saving, and such a call to repentance threatens things with
which I’ve grown quite comfortable, things I’ve convince myself that I need to
be happy.
(C) We can allow our conversion to remain incomplete,
neither ignoring nor refusing the call, but also not permitting our initial
“yes” to carry through into the rest of our day-to-day life, hoping to reap all
the rewards of the kingdom but without having to leave all of our old, sinful
ways behind.
(D) Or, we can wholeheartedly accept it—holding nothing
back.
The King of Heaven
requests the honor of your presence
at a banquet for the marriage of his dearly
beloved Son.
How are you
responding to that personal invitation?Forget about your hairdryer!In what sort of garment are you dressing your soul?
So, you might be wondering why there was no homily posted last Sunday. We'll, I started last weekend with one of my "usual" camp-outs (Thursday-Friday), enjoying a good hike through the woods and a night spent on the shore of Little Green Pond (near Lake Clear) with Fr. Stitt.
It's when I left Little Green Pond that things got a LOT more interesting.
I headed next to Newcomb, where I had registered to take part in Philosophers' Camp. Back in 1858, 10 prominent New England intellectuals (including Ralph Waldo Emerson) gathered on the shores of Follensby Pond in the Adirondacks (incidentally, not too terribly far from Little Green Pond) where they spent several days "roughing it" in the wild, discussing the important matters of the day.
Beginning in the fall of 2015, SUNY ESF's Northern Forest Institute (Newcomb) and St. John's College (Annapolis/Santa Fe) revived the tradition, opening the invitation to a small group of interested folks to come together for a weekend at ESF's beautiful Masten House on remote Henderson Lake to discuss carefully selected works around a particular theme.
I picked up a brochure about Philosophers' Camp when I was visiting friends in Newcomb back in August, and my curiosity was immediately piqued. I took the plunge and signed up!
So I found myself around the table Friday through Sunday engaged in lively and engaging seminars with 15 others who'd come from the North Country/Adirondacks and rural Kentucky, from New York City, Baltimore, and Santa Fe. In the mix we had college professors and high school teachers, a psychiatrist and some philanthropists, an artist and a poet, an organic farmer and a genetic engineer. And did I mention a Catholic priest was thrown in, too, for variety's sake?
Not only was the conversation fascinating and far-ranging (and often, rather fun, too), but we also enjoyed some good food and drink, as well as time exploring our wild surroundings. Some took a hike through the woods; I joined the crew that canoed on Henderson Lake to take in the stunning view of Wallace Mountain which flanks Indian Pass.
It was not the usual company I keep, nor my usual wilderness outing...but Philosophers' Camp was sure a delightful way to spend a weekend in the Adirondacks!
What were you doing at 4:30am this morning?(When I asked a couple of guys this
question at the 8:00am, one said he was doing dishes and the other said he was watching
sports on TV.I should have known
I’d be talking with early risers at the early Mass!)Most reasonable folks were sleeping…which is what I wanted
to be doing.But at 4:25am, the
emergency pager went off.Groggy
and bleary-eyed, I called the hospital to find out what was going on.The nurse told me there was an elderly
woman in the ER—let’s call her “Gertrude”—who wanted to see a priest.I asked if it was an emergency.She answered, “No, not really.If you waited and came at, like,
8:00am, or even later, I’m sure it would be OK.”Naturally, I then asked why she’d gotten me out of bed.“I didn’t get you out of bed!” she
replied.I’m pretty sure she was
trying to be funny…but I’m not very good at getting jokes at 4:30am.So I said, “Just tell Gertrude I’ll be
there in a little while.”
As I was making my bed, I was spittin’-and-sputterin’.And while I brushed my teeth, I
grumbled.And as I was getting
into the shower, I was about to say, “Gotta look my best for Gertrude!” when I
caught myself and said instead, “Gotta look my best for Jesus!” since he’s the
one who had really called me out at such an early hour.
On my way to the ER, I got thinking about all of this in
light of today’s gospel reading.This is the third Sunday in a row that Jesus takes us into the
vineyard.The parable we’ve just
heard isn’t exactly a warm and fuzzy one.In fact, it’s got some rather sharp edges.The landowner sends one messenger after another into his
vineyard…and the first they beat, another they killed, and a third they
stoned.Understandably, we hear of
these messengers and think of the prophets, who were given such poor receptions
by God’s people.But wasn’t
Gertrude also a messenger of the Lord?Had not the beloved Son called for me in the guise of
a frightened old lady in a hospital bed?How many other times had I failed to recognize him, or treated him
poorly, because I was too focused on my own plans, on my own needs, on my own
desires?
Jesus is clearly addressing his pointed parable to those who
have been appointed to tend the vineyard: to the chief priests and elders; to
the religious leaders of the day.Deacon Nick and Deacon Brent—that now includes the two of you.As Bishop LaValley reminded you in his
homily at your ordination yesterday, the gift you have received isn’t for
yourself, but for the Church.Your ordination isn’t about gaining the power and authority to get your
own way, but to be of service in the name and in the likeness of Christ.
But that message isn’t only for the clergy.Jesus is clearly basing his parable on
one told by Isaiah nearly 500 years before.And in Isaiah’s song of the vineyard, it’s the vines that
have yielded, not the sweet fruit that was desired, but wild, sour grapes.God has done so much to nurture and
cultivate us!He’s given us the
Scriptures and the Sacraments and the saints.He’s given us the communion and community of the
Church.He has every right to
expect a good and bountiful harvest from us!Can we honestly say that we’re we giving him his due?
In the aftermath of terrible shootings in Las Vegas, many
people have been asking this week, “How could something like that happen?Why would anybody do it?”The answer comes from the same dark
place in the human heart that could cause one to get up on the wrong side of
the bed, or to mistreat or disparage or reject another person.St. Paul’s message this morning is so
timely.He tells us to have no
anxiety at all, to be at peace.And in a world marred by our sinfulness, he tells us how to find that
peace—how to live by God’s grace: “Whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever
is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is gracious, if there
is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these
things.Keep on doing what you
have learned and received and heard and seen in me.Then the God of peace will be with you.”
My friends, let us live each day—no matter the hour—with our
eyes fully open, that we might recognize Jesus whenever he comes, no matter his
current disguise. Let us always bring
forth—through acts of love and mercy, thought our care and compassion for one
another—the rich, sweet fruit of the kingdom that God’s so desires from us.
A rich old man was dying. He sent for his accountant and his lawyer to come and sit by
his bed as he died. After a long,
awkward silence, one of them asked, “Sir, why have you called us here?”“Because I want to die like
Jesus,” he answered, “between two thieves.”
We know that Jesus hung on his Cross between two
thieves.But who stood there below
at his feet?His Mother, of
course, and Mary Magdalene.But also his Apostle, John.John had been one of the very first to follow Jesus, called from his
fishing nets on the seashore.He
left his job and family, walking the dusty roads of Palestine with Jesus for
years, following him all the way to Calvary—the only Apostle to do so.And after the Resurrection, John took
the Virgin Mary into his home, caring for her during the rest of her earthly
life.He wrote one of the four
Gospels for us, and four other books in the New Testament.It’s believed he died in his 90’s,
after a long and full career in the Lord’s service.
It’s safe to guess that St. John has a pretty high place in
heaven—right?(Of course, he and
his brother James were hoping for just that, once asking Jesus for seats to his
right and his left in his kingdom!)
Now, back to those two thieves.What do we know about them?From their own words, we know they were guilty as charged
and received a just punishment for their crimes…which tells us they’d been
arresting for something far worse than shoplifting.What’s the difference between the two?One of them mocks and reviles Christ,
but the other, seemingly now repentant for his sins, says, “Jesus, remember me
when you come into your kingdom.”What a beautiful profession of faith!This hardened criminal is able to look at the man crucified
beside him and see, not only one who is innocent, but a King whose reign is
beyond this life and even this world.And how does Jesus answer him?“Today you will be with me in paradise.”That makes the “good thief” the only saint to have been
personally canonized by Jesus!
Is it also safe to guess that the “good thief” has a pretty
high place in heaven?
But wait.St.
John had dedicated 70 years or more to following Christ, and given up
everything.How long was the “good
thief” a disciple?Only minutes or
hours!And what had he given
up?You might say he’d given up
his former ways…but that’s easy enough to do when you’re dying and there’s
absolutely no chance you’ll return to them anyway.How could it possibly be fair for them both to receive the
same eternal reward?
Such a contrast between these two saints is a perfect
parallel to the parable Jesus tells us this Sunday.The parable of the workers in the vineyard is probably the
one with which Christians struggle the most.It’s not fair!But we must remember Jesus wasn’t teaching us about labor relations or
encouraging people to join the union.He tells us this is a parable about the kingdom of heaven.And, because of that, it contains many
important points for us to ponder.I want to consider three of them with you this Sunday.
Who is the “landowner” in the parable?God, of course.And what does this parable tell us
about him?That God is amazingly
generous.First, that
landowner is generous in his hiring practices.If it’s 5:00pm, and quitting time is 6:00pm, and nobody’s
hired you yet…there just might be a good reason for that.But he hires such folks anyway.And then there’s the salaries.Everybody got the amount specified in
their contract, right?No one was
cheated out of what they deserved.It’s just that most of the workers got even more than they
deserved—many, a whole lot more.The bonus was a pure gift.Our God is exceedingly generous.
Who are the “workers” in the parable?Well, that’s us.And what are they doing before they got
hired?Absolutely nothing.So what does that say about you and
me?That from God’s perspective,
we often look pretty idle.(Remember what God says through his prophet, Isaiah: “My thoughts are
not your thoughts, nor are my ways you ways….”)It makes me think of a bumper sticker I’ve seen a few times:“Jesus is coming.Look busy!”Most of us feel exceptionally busy these days—even if we’re
technically retired.But we’re
busy about our own affairs, with the things of this world, rather than busy
about God’s affairs, with the things of heaven.
What were those workers hired to do in the vineyard?Most likely, it was to bring in the
harvest.And what is the harvest
God wants us to gather into his kingdom?Souls!We have been given a
share in the mission of Jesus: to win souls for eternal life.That’s the “fruitful labor” St. Paul
talks about—unable to decide if he prefers death or life, since dying means
heaven but life means bring more people to Christ.Do you want to go to heaven?It’s going to take some effort though, right?Not because it’s the wage due a job
well done, but because we ought to lead lives worthy of such an incredible
gift.And I suspect you’d be
willing to work a bit at getting those who came with you to Mass this morning
into heaven, too.But about those who
aren’t at Mass today—those we only see at Christmas and Easter?What about those who never go to this
or any church anywhere ever?How
much are you willing to do to get them to heaven?One of the motivations for getting to heaven is knowing about
the alternative.If we really believe
that there’s a hell, then what must we think of our fellow human beings—friend or
stranger—if we don’t do everything in our power to keep them out of it?There’s a huge harvest out there, ripe
for the picking—but the season is limited.And God is always hiring.
In response to our most generous God, let’s be sure not to
stand idly by, but to get right to work at gathering in souls, that together with
St. John and the “good thief” we might celebrate a most bountiful harvest and
live with the Lord Jesus forever.
This is one of those stories that I couldn’t verify if it
were true…but it really ought to be.
A man in a large South American city placed an ad in the
local newspaper addressed to his estranged son: Juan,Meet me at the Grand
Plaza Hotel on Thursday at 6:00pm.All is forgiven.Love,
Your Father
His son saw the ad and arrived at the hotel at the appointed
time.But he found himself lost in
an immense crowd: hundreds of young men all named Juan—every single one of them
looking to be reunited with his own father.
Have you ever noticed how often “forgiveness” comes up in
the course of every Mass?
In the Penitential Act: “May
almighty God have mercy on us, forgive us our sins, and bring us to everlasting
life.”During the Gloria: “…you take away the sins of the world, have
mercy on us….” In the Creed: “I confess one Baptism for the forgiveness
of sins.”At the Consecration:
“…the Blood of the new and eternal
covenant, which will be poured out for you and for many for the forgiveness of
sins….”During the Lord’s
Prayer: “…forgive us our trespasses as we
forgive those who trespass against us….”Before Holy Communion: “Behold
the Lamb of God, behold him who takes away the sins of the world….”It comes up so often because forgiveness
is God’s business.And he’s rather
extravagant about it.We’re not just
dealing with a Master to whom we owe an exceptionally large amount; we’re
dealing with our Maker, to whom we owe absolutely everything.As St. Paul reminds the Romans, “Both
in life and death, we are the Lord’s.”
If God is so lavish with us—even in our sinfulness—how can
we be tightfisted with one another?
Jesus lived and died and rose again, not simply to make us
feel good or give us an example of how to “be nice,” but to heal a fatal wound,
to bridge a gaping chasm: that sins may
be forgiven.And we’ve been
given the most amazing privilege of sharing in that mission by extending
forgiveness to one another.In
fact, as we’re reminded each and every time we repeat the Lord’s Prayer, we can
only truly know that we’ve been forgiven when we pass it on to another.
Waiting to be forgiven is interminable.That’s why God wastes no time in making
the offer, and repeats it many more than seventy-seven times.But he doesn’t print it in the
newspaper.He sends the message to
us alive, in his Word made flesh: All is
forgiven.Love, Your Father.
Let’s be sure not to withhold from our brothers and sisters
what God has so graciously extended to us.
with much inspiration taken from Fr. Lawrence Donohoo, O.P.
