Eccl 1:2-11
Ps 90:3-4, 5-6, 12-13, 14 and 17bc
Lk 9:7-9
Seminary has tough demands on life, like waking up for 6:30 Mass and Morning Prayer. I’m not a morning person and sometimes it is a last second scramble to get into the chapel on time, especially if I wake up late. One time, I was really late and didn’t even have time to put on my glasses by the nightstand, I just ran to my sink, washed my face, and myself together as best as I could with the few precious seconds I had. In my rush, I realized I stepped on something with a crunch. I froze. I didn’t want to look because I was late and I didn’t want to look because I had a sinking feeling I knew what it was. I was hoping against hope that it wouldn’t be what I thought it was: a cockroach. But it was. When I had a brief moment as I was putting on my socks, I looked down and there it was a big huge cockroach smooshed against the carpet. I didn’t clean it up, I just left it there because I was late. I rushed out the door and into the chapel. An hour and a half later, I came back to find that it was gone and with it, the feeling of safety against a vengeful cockroach… I really hate cockroaches.
“John I beheaded. Who then is this about whom I hear such things?” Herod, who represents the world, is puzzled and perplexed about this man Jesus and his followers. “I thought I smashed that cockroach, why on earth is it still moving and where did I go?!” Resiliency, this cockroach has had a few million years of evolutionary survival going for it and all I had was my haphazard foot.
Like plants that are pruned at the stem, like newly planted crops with blades of green piercing through the dead soil, or the gleam of metal shining through after a hard polish, so are we as Christians called to a resiliency that would trample over death. Plants are incredibly beautiful as they are growing, the life is literally budding out of the stem and there is a sense of promise and hope. And each day they grow as if they had never been hurt or cut before. A beautiful tabernacle tarnished age does not looses its shine because of oxidation and is covered up. But a few hard moments of polish and elbow grease will reveal the inner beauty of the precious metal in no time.
Miracles are an interesting phenomenon. They are a mystery of a temporary bending in the laws of nature that seem to pass beyond reason. Like it is said at the beginning of the Song of Bernadette, “For those who believe, no explanation is necessary. For those who do not believe, no explanation is possible.” Miracles seem to draw a line in the ground, to separate the believer from the skeptic. Especially in the life of St Pio, it was not enough for the devil to harass and torture him nightly; he was constantly harassed and persecuted by Church leaders and skeptics, people that were supposed to be on his side. The naysayers will say that his stigmata was self-inflicted. Scientists will say that he could not survive the blood loss. The skeptics and atheists would say that he is just drawing attention to himself. These are the Herods, the ones that in the face of a miracle say: “John I beheaded. Who then is this about whom I hear such things?” The atheists and scientists believe they have discredited and have gotten rid of this Jesus by finding excuses and ways to disprove a miracle. They think they have it all together to smash a stained-glass miracle with the sledgehammer of reason. But the light still shines through, the green still buds out, and the flower petals still open. Truth will reign, resilient.
St Pio himself covered his wounds with gloves cut at the finger tips to hide his “embarrassment.” His holiness, his very person would not have himself displayed like a circus act or a museum piece. He desired above all to humbly minister to the people, despite the miracles and in spite of his detractors. He felt completely unworthy to receive the wounds of Christ and asked they be taken away. He wanted not the attention of the miracles but used them as a gift to bring people to God. His miracles were unstoppable because they exuded all that was good and all that was holy, a resilient Truth. St Pio was silenced, accusations were made, and his miracles exploited, but being a man of God he lived his life in complete adoration to God.
When seeing those gloves of St Pio, I am reminded of Christ’s hands on the cross, the hands of a priest. St Pio’s gloves covered the wounds that would bleed constantly like Christ’s hands on the cross. The blood that Christ poured out from his hands flows out of the immense love he has. Hands that are meant to hold are now given as a gift to his people. The gloves had to be changed constantly because the flow of blood never stopped. Like Christ, his love for us poured out now in the Precious Blood never stops. It soaks through and permeates anything that tries to stop it and anything that tries to contain it. Why? Because of the resiliency of the love and truth that comes from Christ. The love and care in the anointed hands of a priest should likewise be ever flowing, never ceasing, never stifled. They should be tired at the end of the day from working, but regenerated the next in holding Christ’s body and blood in the celebration of the Mass. If Herod beheaded John the Baptist, covering the light of Christ out of scorn of Truth, St Pio covered his hands out of the reverence for the Truth.
Let not the prodigies of St Pio cover up the Truth, but reveal the resiliency and perseverance of the faith in following Jesus Christ. In the face of persecution and detraction for being a believer of God and a follower of Jesus Christ, may we be unabashed at living our lives as a constant witness of his good graces and infinite love. And if the miracles of St Pio are not enough to satisfy your desire for awe and wonder for God, turn your mind below to the brave cockroach that would live to fight another day and terrorize a poor seminarian.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Twenty-Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle C
Dare We to Presume His Mercy
Ex 32:7-11, 13-14
Ps 51:3-4, 12-13, 17, 19
1 Tm 1:12-17
Lk 15:1-32 or 15:1-10
This is where it is all at today: “I will rise and go to my father.” One cannot rise and go if they have not yet fallen first. “De profundis clamavi ad te Domine!” – Out of the depths I cry to you, O Lord! Unfortunately, it only seems that it is only in the very depths, in the dark valley, and in the very deepest pit that one realizes that they are not in Kansas anymore and that they are in a bit of trouble. For us that are not in the pit, it is almost silly for us to even imagine that one would voluntarily climb into the pit and land himself into such a mess. Why would anyone want to put themselves in so much trouble? It makes no sense. And yet time and time ago we somehow find ourselves one moment okay and the next moment in a pit of seeming despair wondering what the heck just happened.
It is very easy to see Saint Paul’s joy and gratitude in his letter to Timothy. Saint Paul, a scholar of the Jewish Law was quite zealous in following the orthodoxy of Judaism. He was exemplary in his adherence to the law to the point of persecuting those that would skirt from it, especially that young upstart sect of Judaism, the ones who call themselves Christians. His predecessors had put their leader Jesus to the death for blasphemy and his followers just didn’t seem to know when to quit. He approved the stoning of Stephen, the first Christian martyr, and was on his way to Damascus to round up some more Christians for trial. Before he knew it, he was struck blind and his eyes were opened. He realized his error and discovered himself not defending God, but persecuting him.
There was an instant conversion from his ways. No longer was he a persecutor of Christians, but he became an Apostle, one that was sent out to bring others to the faith, a true follower of Jesus Christ. Paul’s letter is a testimony of how God had shown him how deep he was in the pit and how much he needed the Lord. “I was once a blasphemer and a persecutor and arrogant, but I have been mercifully treated… the grace of our Lord has been abundant, along with the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus.” He was shown mercy, though he was not deserving of it. He rose out of the pit when he called to God for help and assistance; and with joy did the Father receive him. One cannot but see the joy leaping off the pages of scripture, his excited-ness for what has happened in his life.
The first reading on the story of Moses on Mount Sinai is another side of God. At first glance, it would seem that this reading has nothing to do with Paul’s or the Gospel. What we hear is God’s anger and wrath against a people who have only just been saved in a miraculous journey THROUGH the Red Sea to have these people start worshipping strange gods and going into drunken partying. Who wouldn’t be angry in this kind of situation?!!? “These ungrateful people!! I have shown you everything, given you a new life, and you slap in the face by worshipping other things…” We would not be the least surprised to see God smiting these people down in anger. But Moses, who for a man who says he does not have the gift of gab does pretty well here, assuages God’s wrath and calms him down. The irony of it all is that it is Moses who actually gets angry at his people in God’s stead.
In God’s goodness, we find his loving mercy. The greatest joys are when the seemingly impossible has been made possible. Jesus’ parables of the Lost Sheep and the Lost Coin are great examples of how God desires to seek out the lost. All that matters to him is not so much that you sinned against him, but that you have been reconciled. The first two parables that Jesus tells is of someone that goes out of their way to seek the lost. The shepherd ABANDONS the other ninety-nine to go for the one lost sheep. The woman searches the entire house to find that one lost coin. In these two parables, it is God who goes actively looking. However in the parable of the Prodigal Son, there is a difference. You will notice that it is the longest of the three for a reason. Whereas the first two parables have God searching out for the lost, the last parable has the Father waiting on his prodigal son to come back. The golden thread that runs through the parables is the rejoicing in the end; what was once lost is now found. There is genuine joy in heaven and from the Father, when one is reconciled with him.
Brothers and Sisters, it is time to drop the idea of the wrathful and vengeful God. He truly desires us to reconcile with him and our neighbors. The first reading only serves to further that point. Does one really think that you can change God’s mind? His mind is already made up! He wants us to goto him and not another. How many of you have given the silent treatment to someone else? Or have stopped talking to someone because of an argument or disagreement? What happens? Nothing. Nobody is helped, nobody feels better, and the emotions start going septic. There is no room to advance the conversation, there is no room to reconcile or make amends, to ask for forgiveness or mercy. Moses’ reasoning only succeeds because of this reason: if God were to indeed smite his people, he would be stopping the conversation; the constant desire to call his people into relationship with him. Therefore, in an act of mercy that is greater than just ending the lives of the Hebrew people in fire and brimstone, he allows them a period of conversion, a period to realize who truly loves them. The Lord gives his people space to come back to him.
The prodigal son is no different. The Father does not follow his son into foreign lands chiding his son at every turn, but he waits patiently and forgivingly that there is always a home in his heart for his lost sons and daughters. In the way for us, he waits in anticipation for us to finish our prodigal journey. Unless you live a life of perfect charity and prudence, you are and will always be his wayward children. We must realize the times that we are in the pit of despair or on the path to self destruction. It may be the little things or it might be big things. We must be ever vigilant to protect our spiritual lives from sin and to seize the opportunities of charity, lest we suddenly find ourselves in the pit. As the saying goes, “If one day you realize that you are far away from God, who moved?”
And like Saint Paul, who has known the darkness and the sinfulness that he has partook, he comes back in full zeal to vouch for the reconciliation of God, his mercy and forgiveness. His testimony is a witness to us: “If I, the greatest sinner in the world (which we know is not true)… If I the greatest sinner in the world, can be forgiven and raised up despite my many foibles still, everyone else can too!!” Let us take heed to Saint Paul’s testimony because he truly is one of us who has gone to hell and back. He’s come back to tell us that there is a way out. He’s not only done so with zeal, but he does it with a joy unlike any other.
Fortunately as followers of Jesus Christ, if we find ourselves in a place we shouldn’t be and stuck in darkness of despair, we must cry from the pit, “Out of the depths I cry to you, O Lord!” “I will rise and go to my Father.” While we still live and breathe there is still an opportunity for mercy. We know that if we go to him with a penitent heart, a heart that is contrite and desires to reconcile with the Father once again; if we ask for forgiveness, we know that he will forgive us – we have only to ask. We know this to be true, that once the shepherd finds the sheep and the woman the coin, there will be great rejoicing in heaven. When the Father sees the son as but a speck on the horizon, the Father will run to the son and welcome him with great jubilation. There is no fault too great, no sin too heinous that falls outside of God’s mercy. The only sin that he cannot forgive us is the sin of denying him the privilege of welcoming us back into his loving arms. I ask you this: Dare we to presume his mercy?!
Ex 32:7-11, 13-14
Ps 51:3-4, 12-13, 17, 19
1 Tm 1:12-17
Lk 15:1-32 or 15:1-10
This is where it is all at today: “I will rise and go to my father.” One cannot rise and go if they have not yet fallen first. “De profundis clamavi ad te Domine!” – Out of the depths I cry to you, O Lord! Unfortunately, it only seems that it is only in the very depths, in the dark valley, and in the very deepest pit that one realizes that they are not in Kansas anymore and that they are in a bit of trouble. For us that are not in the pit, it is almost silly for us to even imagine that one would voluntarily climb into the pit and land himself into such a mess. Why would anyone want to put themselves in so much trouble? It makes no sense. And yet time and time ago we somehow find ourselves one moment okay and the next moment in a pit of seeming despair wondering what the heck just happened.
It is very easy to see Saint Paul’s joy and gratitude in his letter to Timothy. Saint Paul, a scholar of the Jewish Law was quite zealous in following the orthodoxy of Judaism. He was exemplary in his adherence to the law to the point of persecuting those that would skirt from it, especially that young upstart sect of Judaism, the ones who call themselves Christians. His predecessors had put their leader Jesus to the death for blasphemy and his followers just didn’t seem to know when to quit. He approved the stoning of Stephen, the first Christian martyr, and was on his way to Damascus to round up some more Christians for trial. Before he knew it, he was struck blind and his eyes were opened. He realized his error and discovered himself not defending God, but persecuting him.
There was an instant conversion from his ways. No longer was he a persecutor of Christians, but he became an Apostle, one that was sent out to bring others to the faith, a true follower of Jesus Christ. Paul’s letter is a testimony of how God had shown him how deep he was in the pit and how much he needed the Lord. “I was once a blasphemer and a persecutor and arrogant, but I have been mercifully treated… the grace of our Lord has been abundant, along with the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus.” He was shown mercy, though he was not deserving of it. He rose out of the pit when he called to God for help and assistance; and with joy did the Father receive him. One cannot but see the joy leaping off the pages of scripture, his excited-ness for what has happened in his life.
The first reading on the story of Moses on Mount Sinai is another side of God. At first glance, it would seem that this reading has nothing to do with Paul’s or the Gospel. What we hear is God’s anger and wrath against a people who have only just been saved in a miraculous journey THROUGH the Red Sea to have these people start worshipping strange gods and going into drunken partying. Who wouldn’t be angry in this kind of situation?!!? “These ungrateful people!! I have shown you everything, given you a new life, and you slap in the face by worshipping other things…” We would not be the least surprised to see God smiting these people down in anger. But Moses, who for a man who says he does not have the gift of gab does pretty well here, assuages God’s wrath and calms him down. The irony of it all is that it is Moses who actually gets angry at his people in God’s stead.
In God’s goodness, we find his loving mercy. The greatest joys are when the seemingly impossible has been made possible. Jesus’ parables of the Lost Sheep and the Lost Coin are great examples of how God desires to seek out the lost. All that matters to him is not so much that you sinned against him, but that you have been reconciled. The first two parables that Jesus tells is of someone that goes out of their way to seek the lost. The shepherd ABANDONS the other ninety-nine to go for the one lost sheep. The woman searches the entire house to find that one lost coin. In these two parables, it is God who goes actively looking. However in the parable of the Prodigal Son, there is a difference. You will notice that it is the longest of the three for a reason. Whereas the first two parables have God searching out for the lost, the last parable has the Father waiting on his prodigal son to come back. The golden thread that runs through the parables is the rejoicing in the end; what was once lost is now found. There is genuine joy in heaven and from the Father, when one is reconciled with him.
Brothers and Sisters, it is time to drop the idea of the wrathful and vengeful God. He truly desires us to reconcile with him and our neighbors. The first reading only serves to further that point. Does one really think that you can change God’s mind? His mind is already made up! He wants us to goto him and not another. How many of you have given the silent treatment to someone else? Or have stopped talking to someone because of an argument or disagreement? What happens? Nothing. Nobody is helped, nobody feels better, and the emotions start going septic. There is no room to advance the conversation, there is no room to reconcile or make amends, to ask for forgiveness or mercy. Moses’ reasoning only succeeds because of this reason: if God were to indeed smite his people, he would be stopping the conversation; the constant desire to call his people into relationship with him. Therefore, in an act of mercy that is greater than just ending the lives of the Hebrew people in fire and brimstone, he allows them a period of conversion, a period to realize who truly loves them. The Lord gives his people space to come back to him.
The prodigal son is no different. The Father does not follow his son into foreign lands chiding his son at every turn, but he waits patiently and forgivingly that there is always a home in his heart for his lost sons and daughters. In the way for us, he waits in anticipation for us to finish our prodigal journey. Unless you live a life of perfect charity and prudence, you are and will always be his wayward children. We must realize the times that we are in the pit of despair or on the path to self destruction. It may be the little things or it might be big things. We must be ever vigilant to protect our spiritual lives from sin and to seize the opportunities of charity, lest we suddenly find ourselves in the pit. As the saying goes, “If one day you realize that you are far away from God, who moved?”
And like Saint Paul, who has known the darkness and the sinfulness that he has partook, he comes back in full zeal to vouch for the reconciliation of God, his mercy and forgiveness. His testimony is a witness to us: “If I, the greatest sinner in the world (which we know is not true)… If I the greatest sinner in the world, can be forgiven and raised up despite my many foibles still, everyone else can too!!” Let us take heed to Saint Paul’s testimony because he truly is one of us who has gone to hell and back. He’s come back to tell us that there is a way out. He’s not only done so with zeal, but he does it with a joy unlike any other.
Fortunately as followers of Jesus Christ, if we find ourselves in a place we shouldn’t be and stuck in darkness of despair, we must cry from the pit, “Out of the depths I cry to you, O Lord!” “I will rise and go to my Father.” While we still live and breathe there is still an opportunity for mercy. We know that if we go to him with a penitent heart, a heart that is contrite and desires to reconcile with the Father once again; if we ask for forgiveness, we know that he will forgive us – we have only to ask. We know this to be true, that once the shepherd finds the sheep and the woman the coin, there will be great rejoicing in heaven. When the Father sees the son as but a speck on the horizon, the Father will run to the son and welcome him with great jubilation. There is no fault too great, no sin too heinous that falls outside of God’s mercy. The only sin that he cannot forgive us is the sin of denying him the privilege of welcoming us back into his loving arms. I ask you this: Dare we to presume his mercy?!
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Feast of the Birth of the Blessed Virgin Mary
The Life of Vocation to the Birth of the Blessed Virgin Mary
Rom 8:28-30
“We know that all things work for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose.” Cliché as it is, we are here in this seminary for a reason. We have all, in some way; felt a special call, not simply the universal call to holiness, but a unique one that at the same time triggers in us a conflict between our complete unworthiness for such an office, and yet an overwhelming gratitude to God who has seen fit to call us to serve in such a special way. And as I ponder my own vocation story, I see the many interventions, nuances, signs in my life which has given me affirmation to this calling. I am sure that you have sat in this chapel many a morning, mostly with eyes glazed over, but at times with an intense wonder of what God has in store in this vocation.
As you have heard from your formators, perhaps at times ad nauseum and responding back with glazed eyes, the root of the word “seminary” is “seed”. As God has seen fit to purposely “plant” us here in the seminary with a purpose; he “planted” Mary, immaculately conceived in St Anne’s womb, predestined with a purpose. As Mary was conceived and gestated in the womb for nine months, seminary formation also requires, for some, a gestation period of nine years. From conception to birth, something is growing and transforming inside: cells dividing and multiplying, tissues into organs, and organs into systems; We also start seminary as somewhat of a disordered mess of a human person (some more than others) and the process of formation develops us into integrated men, hopefully functioning and bonded into a united presbyterate. The Birth of Mary is obviously a significant milestone in her life, one that shows the fruition of nine months gestation. Likewise, ordination to the priesthood shows the fruition of formation, ready to serve the people of God. However a milestone, by definition does not only mark an end to something, but also a beginning to something else. As a man, though ontologically changed towards perfection, is by no means perfect as he is; but continues to grow to reflect that ontological reality.
Most importantly to the feast is that the birth of Mary marks one step closer to the coming of Christ and one step closer to the restoration of the fallen human condition. In my meditation upon why we celebrate the Birth of Mary, I have to admit I kinda got lost. I started to go into an infinite regression of celebration: if we celebrate the birth of Mary as being closer to the birth of Christ and salvation, why don’t we celebrate the birth of her parents, the birth of her grandparents, etc?! And similarly for the celebration of feasts: Christmas, Christmas Eve, Christmas Eve’s Eve; All Saints’ Day and All Hallow’s Eve, and All Hallow’s Eve’s Eve. Though I cannot speak for the other celebrations, I see that the celebration of Mary’s Birth is the celebration of the New Eve; as Christ is the New Adam, Mary the New Eve as foretold in Genesis 3:15. And so today we celebrate the Eve of Eve’s, marking the coming of Christ and redeeming mankind to his original self.
As the many titles for Mary go, their end is not Mary but Jesus; for she points to him who has raised her up. She is the “Star of the Sea” for sailors lost. For the sailors are not sailing towards the ever stable north star, but rather the star is the guide to navigate them to a safe harbor, a heavenly end. She is the “Morning Star”; the brightest star in the east, drawing our wonder and heralding the sunrise, an early type for Christ and the coming of a new day, a new beginning. And therefore Mary’s birth heralds the eminent coming of salvation and is the preeminent example for mankind in her fiat, an example for us to live life as she did, as a simple handmaid for the Lord.
Before we were in the womb, he knew us. And he has destined us by setting the course of events in our life. Our lives, like Mary, were set for a particular purpose. He gently calls us, not to force our hand (even if at times it seems that way), but he asks for our cooperation. It does not take a genius to realize that when we cooperate with God and work in his good graces, good things do indeed happen. We take joy and delight in serving the Lord in this particular vocation. Certainly at times it is difficult, like St Joseph. Faced in a difficult position, an angel comes to him in a dream and tells him to stay with Mary because she will bear the Son of God. When we serve the Lord in the way to which he has called us, we should have confidence in his providence and his goodness for we know that all things work for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose.
In this feast of the Birth of the Blessed Virgin Mary, be reminded that her birth came about through a gestation, a period of growth, and started from an act of Divine Intervention. And in our lives, through an act of Divine Intervention, we have been planted in this seminary for a period of growth and formation. That as Mary’s birth is the fruition of growth, our ordination to the priesthood is also a fruition of our formation and discernment. That her life and merit did not stop at just being born but continued onwards – her life was in complete imitation of the Love of God and always directed towards the glorification of her savior; that our lives may also be, like Mary and through her intercession, in complete imitation of our Love for him who has called us to call others to him, bringing him the greatest glory.
Rom 8:28-30
“We know that all things work for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose.” Cliché as it is, we are here in this seminary for a reason. We have all, in some way; felt a special call, not simply the universal call to holiness, but a unique one that at the same time triggers in us a conflict between our complete unworthiness for such an office, and yet an overwhelming gratitude to God who has seen fit to call us to serve in such a special way. And as I ponder my own vocation story, I see the many interventions, nuances, signs in my life which has given me affirmation to this calling. I am sure that you have sat in this chapel many a morning, mostly with eyes glazed over, but at times with an intense wonder of what God has in store in this vocation.
As you have heard from your formators, perhaps at times ad nauseum and responding back with glazed eyes, the root of the word “seminary” is “seed”. As God has seen fit to purposely “plant” us here in the seminary with a purpose; he “planted” Mary, immaculately conceived in St Anne’s womb, predestined with a purpose. As Mary was conceived and gestated in the womb for nine months, seminary formation also requires, for some, a gestation period of nine years. From conception to birth, something is growing and transforming inside: cells dividing and multiplying, tissues into organs, and organs into systems; We also start seminary as somewhat of a disordered mess of a human person (some more than others) and the process of formation develops us into integrated men, hopefully functioning and bonded into a united presbyterate. The Birth of Mary is obviously a significant milestone in her life, one that shows the fruition of nine months gestation. Likewise, ordination to the priesthood shows the fruition of formation, ready to serve the people of God. However a milestone, by definition does not only mark an end to something, but also a beginning to something else. As a man, though ontologically changed towards perfection, is by no means perfect as he is; but continues to grow to reflect that ontological reality.
Most importantly to the feast is that the birth of Mary marks one step closer to the coming of Christ and one step closer to the restoration of the fallen human condition. In my meditation upon why we celebrate the Birth of Mary, I have to admit I kinda got lost. I started to go into an infinite regression of celebration: if we celebrate the birth of Mary as being closer to the birth of Christ and salvation, why don’t we celebrate the birth of her parents, the birth of her grandparents, etc?! And similarly for the celebration of feasts: Christmas, Christmas Eve, Christmas Eve’s Eve; All Saints’ Day and All Hallow’s Eve, and All Hallow’s Eve’s Eve. Though I cannot speak for the other celebrations, I see that the celebration of Mary’s Birth is the celebration of the New Eve; as Christ is the New Adam, Mary the New Eve as foretold in Genesis 3:15. And so today we celebrate the Eve of Eve’s, marking the coming of Christ and redeeming mankind to his original self.
As the many titles for Mary go, their end is not Mary but Jesus; for she points to him who has raised her up. She is the “Star of the Sea” for sailors lost. For the sailors are not sailing towards the ever stable north star, but rather the star is the guide to navigate them to a safe harbor, a heavenly end. She is the “Morning Star”; the brightest star in the east, drawing our wonder and heralding the sunrise, an early type for Christ and the coming of a new day, a new beginning. And therefore Mary’s birth heralds the eminent coming of salvation and is the preeminent example for mankind in her fiat, an example for us to live life as she did, as a simple handmaid for the Lord.
Before we were in the womb, he knew us. And he has destined us by setting the course of events in our life. Our lives, like Mary, were set for a particular purpose. He gently calls us, not to force our hand (even if at times it seems that way), but he asks for our cooperation. It does not take a genius to realize that when we cooperate with God and work in his good graces, good things do indeed happen. We take joy and delight in serving the Lord in this particular vocation. Certainly at times it is difficult, like St Joseph. Faced in a difficult position, an angel comes to him in a dream and tells him to stay with Mary because she will bear the Son of God. When we serve the Lord in the way to which he has called us, we should have confidence in his providence and his goodness for we know that all things work for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose.
In this feast of the Birth of the Blessed Virgin Mary, be reminded that her birth came about through a gestation, a period of growth, and started from an act of Divine Intervention. And in our lives, through an act of Divine Intervention, we have been planted in this seminary for a period of growth and formation. That as Mary’s birth is the fruition of growth, our ordination to the priesthood is also a fruition of our formation and discernment. That her life and merit did not stop at just being born but continued onwards – her life was in complete imitation of the Love of God and always directed towards the glorification of her savior; that our lives may also be, like Mary and through her intercession, in complete imitation of our Love for him who has called us to call others to him, bringing him the greatest glory.
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Twenty-Third Ordinary Sunday, Cycle C
The Tower and The Army
Wis 9:13-18b
Phmn 9-10,12-17
Lk 14:25-33
A few years ago, I was at a reception after the ordination of one my diocesan brothers. It was a happy occasion and a good opportunity to meet lots of old friends and family of friends. And I was having a conversation with one particular woman, talking about my life as a seminarian and sharing a little bit about myself. I mentioned that my parents emigrated here from Taiwan and that I was born and raised in Dallas and we never moved since. The woman, perhaps reflecting upon her own children and what would be her fate in the future, happily exclaimed that it was good that I would be in the same place where my parents lived and I could visit them often. I, in my nervousness and in an attempt to show off how well I knew scripture said, “Whoever comes to me without hating his father and mother… cannot be my disciple.” I immediately realized that I had probably scandalized this poor woman and probably lost any support in her sons being priests in the future.
So what does this scripture passage really mean for us? Why does Jesus, the savior of the world, tell his followers that they must hate their father, mother, wife, children, brothers and sisters? Why does he go to such an extreme? And how are we to respond to that? I think another seminarian put it best when he said that the Bible is like one of those iTunes license agreements where everyone just skips down to the end and clicks on “Agree” having really no idea what they are getting themselves into. What ARE we getting ourselves into?
The situation running behind St Paul’s Letter to Philemon is a unique one in the scriptures. Put simply, Onesimus is a runaway slave and has found the faith as he cared for Paul in prison. Paul writes this letter urging Philemon, a professed Christian, to free Onesimus from slavery and to treat him as a brother. Let us take a perhaps deeper look at this passage, one that would be more pertinent for us today. In particular when Paul writes, “I did not want to do anything without your consent, so that the good you do might not be forced but voluntary. Perhaps this is why he was away from you for a while, that you might have him back forever, more than a slave, a brother…”. What if you received a letter from God saying something like that? God does not force our hand in anything; he invites and gives us an opportunity to commune with him. “…I did not want to do anything without your consent, so that the good you do might not be forced but voluntary.” This passage is so beautiful in that God loves us so much that he desires for us to choose him freely. And not only that, he realizes that at times it is not Onesimus, the slave, that is away from us, but rather that we have sent our Lord Jesus Christ away from us. He was serving us and loving us and we sent him away to be crucified, but we also know that absence makes the heart grow fonder; we truly miss him and need him. And so again, God the Father sends his Son Jesus Christ to us so that we can welcome him back, not as one whom we sent away and crucified, but as a brother that is especially loved by the Father. How beautiful is that?
Don’t worry…I haven’t forgotten our difficult Gospel. As we cherish the depth of how God calls us through Paul’s Letter, let us reflect upon what Jesus’ words in the Gospel. The radical message of going so far as to hate your family and your own life in order to follow Christ, is not taken to be literally; but at times this has been the case, not by volition, but rather by circumstance. Though I have had the blessing of my family supporting my vocation, I know quite a few people who have had to reject their family’s wishes in order to pursue the religious vocation. I know people whose family has been torn apart because of the faith. This happens more than we realize and yet I believe that we are justified in pursuing the One we love. However, this does not mean that all charity goes out the window. Jesus does not call us to purposely call our parents just to yell at them. No, your faith requires you to act with love and charity.
What is particularly interesting in the Gospel are the two examples that Jesus gives that does not seem to fit the first part of his message. Where the first part seems to refer to having zeal in being a disciple and the second seems to be talking about logistics: How much money and resources do I need to build this tower or that house? How many troops do I have and what kind of supplies do I have? Can I build this tower? Can I win this war? What does being a disciple, a follower of Jesus Christ, have to do with charging into battle or building tower defenses? Perhaps our Church has some wisdom in calling us here on earth: the Church Militant, ready to hate and fight right? building defense, going to war? But let us first “sit down” and take another look before we run off and grabs our guns.
In these two analogies, I see that we are indeed preparing for a battle, but not one of a physical nature, but a spiritual one. The tower that we are to build is for defense, yes, but more so to guard our hearts against temptation and evil. The beautiful words of St. Paul telling us to receive the faith given to us and to believe in the Gospel, spurs a zeal to get into the fight right away and take on the world. But the tower the Jesus speaks of building is one of a spiritual fortress. What is our foundation and what are our building materials? A life filled with the Sacraments, intellectual studies, and a life of deep prayer. Our First Reading from Wisdom tells us of the Holy Spirit, sent to us as counselor. We don’t know God’s intentions and what his plans are, but we keep fast to him and the things that are above. The Psalm today reads, “In every age, O Lord, you have been our refuge.” We hide in him and go to him for safety, for defense against evils in the world. He is our rock and fortress; and we do not build those towers standing by themselves but within the fortress of God’s Kingdom on earth, the Catholic Church. Therefore, Jesus is telling us what we have to do to build this fortress properly. Our lives must be in proper order: fueled by an incredible zeal to do the Lord’s bidding, we must pace ourselves so that the tower we build is complete and sturdy; so that we can house the Holy Spirit in us.
And what of the king marching into battle? It does no good for us in this world as it stands to stay in our towers for the rest of our lives. We have good news to share and evils to fight. After we build our towers, our defenses, we go to war!!! It’s time to fight back, we go on the offensive!!! That is not to say that we should BE offensive to other people, but that we go to evangelize, spread the Gospel, and expand the Kingdom of God that is already upon us. The enemy is out there; whether it’s non-believers and unbelievers, corruption, materialism, injustice, or the devil himself, the enemy is out there in the world. We must prepare physically, intellectually, and most importantly spiritually. The time and resources building the army of evangelization is not unlike the time and resources spent on building the tower of spiritual refuge. Both require a zeal tempered by prudence and right judgment, the Holy Spirit of Wisdom.
In conclusion, St. Paul presents a hopeful message of beginning a new life with Christ and with that kindled zeal, we set out to the Lord’s bidding. We ask for the Holy Spirit to guide us in prudence and wisdom. We want to build a tower of refuge and an army of evangelization and we cannot do so without seeking guidance from the Holy Spirit, having a deep spiritual life of prayer, and desiring an intimate relationship with Our Lord in the Blessed Sacrament who feeds us and sustains us in the coming days.
Wis 9:13-18b
Phmn 9-10,12-17
Lk 14:25-33
A few years ago, I was at a reception after the ordination of one my diocesan brothers. It was a happy occasion and a good opportunity to meet lots of old friends and family of friends. And I was having a conversation with one particular woman, talking about my life as a seminarian and sharing a little bit about myself. I mentioned that my parents emigrated here from Taiwan and that I was born and raised in Dallas and we never moved since. The woman, perhaps reflecting upon her own children and what would be her fate in the future, happily exclaimed that it was good that I would be in the same place where my parents lived and I could visit them often. I, in my nervousness and in an attempt to show off how well I knew scripture said, “Whoever comes to me without hating his father and mother… cannot be my disciple.” I immediately realized that I had probably scandalized this poor woman and probably lost any support in her sons being priests in the future.
So what does this scripture passage really mean for us? Why does Jesus, the savior of the world, tell his followers that they must hate their father, mother, wife, children, brothers and sisters? Why does he go to such an extreme? And how are we to respond to that? I think another seminarian put it best when he said that the Bible is like one of those iTunes license agreements where everyone just skips down to the end and clicks on “Agree” having really no idea what they are getting themselves into. What ARE we getting ourselves into?
The situation running behind St Paul’s Letter to Philemon is a unique one in the scriptures. Put simply, Onesimus is a runaway slave and has found the faith as he cared for Paul in prison. Paul writes this letter urging Philemon, a professed Christian, to free Onesimus from slavery and to treat him as a brother. Let us take a perhaps deeper look at this passage, one that would be more pertinent for us today. In particular when Paul writes, “I did not want to do anything without your consent, so that the good you do might not be forced but voluntary. Perhaps this is why he was away from you for a while, that you might have him back forever, more than a slave, a brother…”. What if you received a letter from God saying something like that? God does not force our hand in anything; he invites and gives us an opportunity to commune with him. “…I did not want to do anything without your consent, so that the good you do might not be forced but voluntary.” This passage is so beautiful in that God loves us so much that he desires for us to choose him freely. And not only that, he realizes that at times it is not Onesimus, the slave, that is away from us, but rather that we have sent our Lord Jesus Christ away from us. He was serving us and loving us and we sent him away to be crucified, but we also know that absence makes the heart grow fonder; we truly miss him and need him. And so again, God the Father sends his Son Jesus Christ to us so that we can welcome him back, not as one whom we sent away and crucified, but as a brother that is especially loved by the Father. How beautiful is that?
Don’t worry…I haven’t forgotten our difficult Gospel. As we cherish the depth of how God calls us through Paul’s Letter, let us reflect upon what Jesus’ words in the Gospel. The radical message of going so far as to hate your family and your own life in order to follow Christ, is not taken to be literally; but at times this has been the case, not by volition, but rather by circumstance. Though I have had the blessing of my family supporting my vocation, I know quite a few people who have had to reject their family’s wishes in order to pursue the religious vocation. I know people whose family has been torn apart because of the faith. This happens more than we realize and yet I believe that we are justified in pursuing the One we love. However, this does not mean that all charity goes out the window. Jesus does not call us to purposely call our parents just to yell at them. No, your faith requires you to act with love and charity.
What is particularly interesting in the Gospel are the two examples that Jesus gives that does not seem to fit the first part of his message. Where the first part seems to refer to having zeal in being a disciple and the second seems to be talking about logistics: How much money and resources do I need to build this tower or that house? How many troops do I have and what kind of supplies do I have? Can I build this tower? Can I win this war? What does being a disciple, a follower of Jesus Christ, have to do with charging into battle or building tower defenses? Perhaps our Church has some wisdom in calling us here on earth: the Church Militant, ready to hate and fight right? building defense, going to war? But let us first “sit down” and take another look before we run off and grabs our guns.
In these two analogies, I see that we are indeed preparing for a battle, but not one of a physical nature, but a spiritual one. The tower that we are to build is for defense, yes, but more so to guard our hearts against temptation and evil. The beautiful words of St. Paul telling us to receive the faith given to us and to believe in the Gospel, spurs a zeal to get into the fight right away and take on the world. But the tower the Jesus speaks of building is one of a spiritual fortress. What is our foundation and what are our building materials? A life filled with the Sacraments, intellectual studies, and a life of deep prayer. Our First Reading from Wisdom tells us of the Holy Spirit, sent to us as counselor. We don’t know God’s intentions and what his plans are, but we keep fast to him and the things that are above. The Psalm today reads, “In every age, O Lord, you have been our refuge.” We hide in him and go to him for safety, for defense against evils in the world. He is our rock and fortress; and we do not build those towers standing by themselves but within the fortress of God’s Kingdom on earth, the Catholic Church. Therefore, Jesus is telling us what we have to do to build this fortress properly. Our lives must be in proper order: fueled by an incredible zeal to do the Lord’s bidding, we must pace ourselves so that the tower we build is complete and sturdy; so that we can house the Holy Spirit in us.
And what of the king marching into battle? It does no good for us in this world as it stands to stay in our towers for the rest of our lives. We have good news to share and evils to fight. After we build our towers, our defenses, we go to war!!! It’s time to fight back, we go on the offensive!!! That is not to say that we should BE offensive to other people, but that we go to evangelize, spread the Gospel, and expand the Kingdom of God that is already upon us. The enemy is out there; whether it’s non-believers and unbelievers, corruption, materialism, injustice, or the devil himself, the enemy is out there in the world. We must prepare physically, intellectually, and most importantly spiritually. The time and resources building the army of evangelization is not unlike the time and resources spent on building the tower of spiritual refuge. Both require a zeal tempered by prudence and right judgment, the Holy Spirit of Wisdom.
In conclusion, St. Paul presents a hopeful message of beginning a new life with Christ and with that kindled zeal, we set out to the Lord’s bidding. We ask for the Holy Spirit to guide us in prudence and wisdom. We want to build a tower of refuge and an army of evangelization and we cannot do so without seeking guidance from the Holy Spirit, having a deep spiritual life of prayer, and desiring an intimate relationship with Our Lord in the Blessed Sacrament who feeds us and sustains us in the coming days.
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