Special Discount

Being a special friend of Jesus by doing the Father’s will

07/24/2018

Matthew 12:46-50 While Jesus was speaking to the crowds, his mother and his brothers appeared outside, wishing to speak with him. Someone told him, "Your mother and your brothers are standing outside, asking to speak with you." But he said in reply to the one who told him, "Who is my mother? Who are my brothers?" And stretching out his hand toward his disciples, he said, "Here are my mother and my brothers. For whoever does the will of my heavenly Father is my brother, and sister, and mother."

It’s probably safe to say that while everyone has at least some friends, some of those friends are special friends, closer to our hearts than others, our best friends. Some people these days program different rings into their phone for different names and numbers, so the ring will alert them who’s calling. That way, they can answer the call faster or perhaps slower. For example, I have the Darth Vader theme music as the ring tone for the bishop’s number. Just kidding.

I’m reminded of that humorous scene in Casablanca when Ilsa Lund is distractedly picking up lace fabric at an open market. The eager salesman says: “You will not find a treasure like this in all Morocco, mademoiselle, only 700 francs.” Rick walks up and says, “You’re being cheated.” The man quickly adjusts his price saying, “Ah, for friends of Rick, you can have it for 200 francs.” Then Rick says to Ilsa, “I’m sorry I was in no mood to receive you when you called on me last night.” Then the salesman perks up and adds: “Ah, for special friends of Rick, we have a special discount, 100 francs.” Special friends get special discounts, they get preferential treatment, they hold the key to unlock the door to our hearts.

In the gospel reading, someone tries to superimpose this special friend paradigm on to Jesus’ relationships, asking our Lord for a special discount, a special favor. Someone says: “Your mother and your brothers are standing outside, asking to speak with you.” That person sounded like the street vendor in Casablanca, saying, special friends of Jesus should get special discounts, special favors, because they hold the key to unlock his heart. But Jesus answers: “Whoever does the will of my heavenly Father is my brother and sister and mother.” As Jesus stretched our his arm to the crowd, he expanded the category of special friends and indicated all those who try to do God’s will. Kinship with Christ – being as close as a mother or brother – would no longer be determined by class or creed or custom, or even by genealogy, but simply by a desire to do the divine will. Those who seek God’s will hold the key to the Savior’s sacred heart.

My friends, it would take but a moment’s reflection to list any number of our special friends. That’s all well and good. But if you want to include Jesus in that inner circle of yours, then you have to seek God’s will above all else. So ask yourself: do you encourage your friends to ask what God wants to happen in their professional life, in their public life, in their private life? Jesus draws close to us when we carry on those conversations. When we pray the Lord’s prayer, we should zero in on the words, “Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven” and really mean those words. That intention brings us into the ambit of Jesus’ special friends. I tell young men and women who want to be a priest or nun: “Do you think God wants you to be a priest or a nun?” That question is more critical than asking, “Do you want to be a priest or nun?” Why? That question puts our vocational discernment – indeed all decision-making – on the rock of God’s will, rather than on the shifting sands of our own will. When I visit an anxious family in the hospital facing the formidable dilemma of ceasing further treatment, I gently suggest: “It’s no use to play tug-of-war with God. If it’s clear God is calling your loved one home, then perhaps it’s time to accept his will.”

It’s probably smart to accept God’s will – rather than our own – as our last act on earth. It’s wise to be among Jesus’ closest kin moments before you see him face to face. Remember: for special friends of Jesus, you get a special discount, called salvation.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Fall of Giants

Learning to lean only on the kingship of Christ

07/22/2018

Jeremiah 23:1-6 Woe to the shepherds who mislead and scatter the flock of my pasture, says the LORD. Therefore, thus says the LORD, the God of Israel, against the shepherds who shepherd my people: You have scattered my sheep and driven them away. You have not cared for them, but I will take care to punish your evil deeds. I myself will gather the remnant of my flock from all the lands to which I have driven them and bring them back to their meadow; there they shall increase and multiply. I will appoint shepherds for them who will shepherd them so that they need no longer fear and tremble; and none shall be missing, says the LORD.

I am now knee-deep into a novel I cannot put down. It is called Fall of Giants by Ken Follett, and it’s a fast-paced story, a real page-turner – just like my Sunday sermons. The story takes place in the years leading up to World War I, the so-called, “war to end all wars.” The part of the book that fascinated me the most was the interaction of imperial powers as the world teetered on the brink of war. You might remember that at that period in history – the early 1900’s – monarchies were still mighty, like dinosaurs roaming the earth. This was long before the rise of free-market democracies and state-sponsored communism.

At one point the novel referenced the “Willy and Nicky correspondence.” Have you heard of that? It’s the personal letters that the tsar in Russia, Nicholas II, exchanged with his third cousin, the kaiser in Germany, Wilhelm II. Both men were great, great grandsons of Paul I of Russia. They were so close and affectionate with one another that they referred to themselves as “Nicky” and “Willy.” I’m going to start calling Fr. Stephen, “Stevie.” Here’s an excerpt of one letter by Tsar Nicholas II: “I foresee that very soon I shall be overwhelmed by the pressure forced upon me and be forced to take extreme measures which will lead to war. To try to avoid such a calamity as a European war I beg you in the name of our old friendship to do what you can to stop your allies from going too far. [Signed] Nicky.” And Willy replied with similar sentiments to stave off the impending bloodshed. But we know what happened next. Willy and Nicky’s respective armies – the Germans and the Russians – tried to annihilate one another off the face of the earth. No matter how great men grow, in power and prestige, in weapons and warfare, as tsars or as kaisers, sooner or later history will witness the “fall of these giants.” It is a truism that human leadership perennially proves too weak to avoid war, even when the opposing leaders are third cousins; there will never be “a war to end all wars.”

The Old Testament prophet, Jeremiah, also points out the problems with human leadership of God’s people, and prophesies that ultimately, God alone will be able to lead his people perfectly. Jeremiah warns: “You have scattered my sheep and driven them away. You have not cared for them…I myself will gather the remnant of my flock from the lands to which I have driven them and bring them back to their meadow; there they shall increase and multiply.” And this warning, by the way, was not just for notorious kings like Ahab or Jeroboam, but was also intended for every king of Israel. Abraham faltered in faith and had relations with his servant, Hagar. Moses lost his patience and struck the rock twice, disobeying God. Samson betrayed his sacred Nazorite vow and allowed his head to be shaved. David committed adultery with Bathsheba and murdered her husband, Uriah. Solomon’s wisdom led him astray to marry 700 wives, and so on and so forth. Each human leader of the Chosen People had a fatal flaw, just like Willy and Nicky.

Only Jesus, the Son of God, would one day lead all humanity in holiness and humility. We read in today’s gospel the fulfillment of Jeremiah’s prophesy: “When [Jesus] disembarked and saw the vast crowd, his heart was moved with pity for them, for they were like sheep without a shepherd; and he began to teach them many things.” In other words, anyone who does not have Christ for his shepherd is essentially like a sheep without a real shepherd. Only the lordship and the leadership of Jesus will one day “end all wars.”

My friends, we do not live in the early 20th century in a world ruled by tsars and kaisers, but we still have political and even personal giants roaming around and running the world today. Are you shocked when they stumble and fall? How easy it is to cast stones and aspersions on presidents and prime ministers when they commit blunders, their stumbles are spread all across social media. Isn’t it human failures that prompt “roaming Catholics” of Fort Smith to move from parish to parish looking for greener pastures, or at least shorter sermons? No priest is perfect. Sometimes the giants in our lives were once our own parents, who as they grow older also evince short-comings of mind, body or spirit. We match their short-comings with our short-tempers! We can even pick apart our popes. “Pope Francis is too liberal with the environment,” some complain. Or, “Pope Benedict was too strict with the liturgy,” others criticize.

All human leaders, all human shepherds, are in the end imperfect, in order to highlight, by contrast, how good the Good Shepherd, Jesus, will be. Only when we put all our trust in Jesus will we be able to repeat with Psalm 23: “The Lord is my shepherd, there is nothing I shall want.” Only when the Prince of Peace reigns supreme “on earth as it is in heaven” will there be an “end to all wars.” In the meantime, we will wearily watch the fall of giants.

The core of Follett’s novel can be captured in one brief reflection by a leading character, a German diplomat named, Walter. Walter secretly marries a British duchess named Maud, which was very taboo. The eve before the war, Walter reminisces ruefully: “My fate is in the hands of two monarchs…the tsar and the emperor. One is foolish, and the other geriatric; yet they control the destiny of Maud and me and countless millions of Europeans. What an argument against monarchy!” (Fall of Giants, 185-86). And the only answer to that argument is the kingship of Christ.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Parallel Points

Seeing God’s hand both explicitly and implicitly in history

07/19/2018

Isaiah 26:7-9, 12, 16-19 The way of the just is smooth; the path of the just you make level. Yes, for your way and your judgments, O LORD, we look to you; Your name and your title are the desire of our souls. My soul yearns for you in the night, yes, my spirit within me keeps vigil for you; When your judgment dawns upon the earth, the world's inhabitants learn justice. O LORD, you mete out peace to us, for it is you who have accomplished all we have done. O LORD, oppressed by your punishment, we cried out in anguish under your chastising. As a woman about to give birth writhes and cries out in her pains, so were we in your presence, O LORD. We conceived and writhed in pain, giving birth to wind; Salvation we have not achieved for the earth, the inhabitants of the world cannot bring it forth. But your dead shall live, their corpses shall rise; awake and sing, you who lie in the dust. For your dew is a dew of light, and the land of shades gives birth.

On my recent trip to my homeland of India, I was pleasantly surprised to discover some parallels in historical milestones between India and Christianity. Note-worthy events on one side of the planet were paralleled by outstanding occurrences on the other. While God was writing explicitly in one line of history, he was operating implicitly in the other, because anything good that has ever happened anywhere on the globe was due to God’s grace. Let me point out just five remarkable parallel points.

First, most of the history of the Old Testament, the 46 books of the first half of our Bible, occurred between the 15th century and the 5th century B.C. (before Christ). That period spans the return of the people from slavery in Egypt (Exodus) to the period of the people’s return from slavery in Babylon (Ezra and Nehemiah). Meanwhile, on the other side of the world in India, during this same time-frame (15th to 5th century BC), the Vedas were being composed. The Vedas are the sacred books of Hinduism. Hinduism is the reason there are sacred cows sitting in the city streets of Delhi, and why only veggie burgers are served in the restaurants in India. Both bibles were being penned in roughly the same period of history.

Secondly, the book of the prophet Isaiah (our first readings all this week), was written in the 500’s BC. The whole book of Isaiah – one of the longest in the Old Testament with 66 chapters – is an eloquent prophesy about the coming of Christ. Meanwhile in India (Nepal to be exact) Gautama Buddha lived in the 500’s, and had his moment of enlightenment, and sparked the religious revolution called Buddhism. Isaiah spoke of the coming of the light of Christ, and Buddha had a glimpse of that light in his religious reveries.

Thirdly, we fast forward to 1626, which is when St. Peter’s Basilica was completed in Rome. Interestingly, below the central, main altar is buried none other than St. Peter himself, our first pope. At almost the same time, in 1632, the Mughal Emperor, Shah Jahan, began the construction of the Taj Mahal, one of the seven wonders of the world. It is actually a mausoleum for Mumtah Mahal, his favorite wife (yes, he had more than one). Notice that buried in the heart of both buildings are two people both cultures honor, revere and venerate; both buildings were built by love, and almost at the same time in human history.

Fourthly, the 1700’s saw the rise of the period of colonization. The Spanish colonization brought the conquistadors to the shores of central and south America. The Mexican people are a blend of both Spaniards and native indigenous people. That colonization is why we have two Spanish Masses at I.C. every Sunday. Meanwhile, in the 1700’s the British colonization was underway in India, driven by the desires of the East India Company opening trade routes. And thanks to that colonization, I speak English today (and Spanish, too), and why the fellow who answers your question about your credit card statement is in a call center in India instead of China.

Fifthly and finally, the mid-1900’s was monumental in the Catholic church because Pope St. John XXIII was elected as the Holy Father and convened the Second Vatican Council. That council made vast changes in how Catholics practiced their faith on a daily basis, like Mass in English instead of in Latin. At the same time in India, Mahatma Gandhi was seen as the father of the nation, and called for the non-violent liberation of India from British rule, which India obtained in 1947.  Incidentally, do you know when Indian Independence Day is celebrated each year? It is August 15, the annual feast of the Assumption of Mary into heaven. Two great men, indeed fathers in their own fields, were both advocates of greater freedom, and paved paths of peace.

I realize that not everyone is a fan of history and this sermonic stroll into the past probably put some of you to sleep. But remember the words of the Spanish philosopher George Santayana: “those who cannot remember the past are doomed to repeat it.” It is also said that God writes straight with crooked lines. Sometimes, God’s authorship of history is explicit and he signs his name, like in the case of Christianity. But sometimes he prefers to stay anonymous, like in the history of India.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

The Third Fall

Learning to get up again after we fall

07/17/2018

Matthew 11:20-24 Jesus began to reproach the towns where most of his mighty deeds had been done, since they had not repented. “Woe to you, Chorazin! Woe to you, Bethsaida! For if the mighty deeds done in your midst had been done in Tyre and Sidon, they would long ago have repented in sackcloth and ashes. But I tell you, it will be more tolerable for Tyre and Sidon on the day of judgment than for you. And as for you, Capernaum: Will you be exalted to heaven? You will go down to the nether world. For if the mighty deeds done in your midst had been done in Sodom, it would have remained until this day. But I tell you, it will be more tolerable for the land of Sodom on the day of judgment than for you.”

Whenever I read the gospels, I am always mystified by how the Jews missed the Messiah. Not everyone missed him, of course, but the Jewish authorities did, and it was their sworn responsibility to be on the lookout for him and even to rejoice when he arrived. But Jesus’ own people did a lot worse than miss him, they maligned him, they mistreated him, and finally they murdered him. Everything in the nearly 2,000 years of Jewish history – all the way from Abraham to Malachi, all the pronouncements of the prophets, all the wisdom of the Mosaic law, all the poetry of King David – served as a kind of opening movement to the symphony that was the life of our Lord. All Old Testament signs pointed straight to the Savior, but the Jews were walking with their eyes closed, and didn’t see the signs.

I’m not the only one to wonder about this Jewish oversight. Romano Guardini, the great German theologian who Pope Francis loves to read, said starkly: “The failure of the Jewish people to accept Christ was the second Fall, the import of which can be fully grasped only in connection with the first” (The Lord, 113). In other words, the fact that the Jews missed the Messiah was as catastrophic as Adam and Eve committing the original sin, and equally as astonishing. Why? Just like Adam and Eve were endowed with the preternatural gifts of infused knowledge, integrity of passions, and immortality, but still turned away from God, so the Jews, even though equally endowed with the gifts and graces of the Old Testament, turned away from Jesus. With good reason, therefore, Guardini calls this “the second Fall.”

This may shed some light on Jesus rather scathing judgment on the towns of Chorazin, Bethsaida and Capernaum. We read in Matthew 11: “Jesus began to reproach the towns where most of his mighty deeds had been done, since they had not repented.” These three towns represented a microcosm of all Judaism, the people who should have jumped to convert at the first words to fall from Jesus lips when he said: “This is the time of fulfillment. The Kingdom of God is at hand. Repent and believe in the gospel” (Mk. 1:15). But their eyes were shut, and their ears were clogged, and their hearts were hardened. And Jesus is far from pleased with them because to whom much is given, much will be expected. Jesus had done mighty deeds for them.

May I go out on a limb at this point and suggest to you there is also a third fall, which is perhaps even more tragic than the first fall of Adam and Eve and even the second fall of the Jews? This third fall is whenever Catholics, me and you, turn away from Jesus and sin. In a sense, haven’t we been blessed with gifts of grace and glory – the sacraments, the Scriptures (both Old and New Testaments), the saints, the treasures of our tradition, the centuries of scholars, not to mention the prayers of Mother Mary – all this should make it virtually impossible for us to sin. And yet we do. That’s the third fall. When I think about how many years I have studied in Catholic schools, in seminary, and even studying canon law, I shake my head in shame thinking that I could still sin. And yet I do. I should be more saintly and smarter than I am! That’s the third fall. Maybe you have children who were raised as Catholics, went to Catholic schools, were even devout altar servers, but now no longer go to Mass. How is that possible? How can people who have been blessed beyond belief (literally) turn their back on God? That’s the third Fall.

I don’t know why we do that; why there’s a third fall. But here’s what I do know: God doesn’t give up on us. God didn’t give up on Adam and Eve; he didn’t give up on the Jews, and he does not give up on you and me. I guess that’s the reason the Good News is so good.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Power of Poverty

Embracing poverty in order to preach the Good news

07/15/2018

Mark 6:7-13 Jesus summoned the Twelve and began to send them out two by two and gave them authority over unclean spirits. He instructed them to take nothing for the journey but a walking stick— no food, no sack, no money in their belts. They were, however, to wear sandals but not a second tunic. He said to them, “Wherever you enter a house, stay there until you leave. Whatever place does not welcome you or listen to you, leave there and shake the dust off your feet in testimony against them.” So they went off and preached repentance. The Twelve drove out many demons, and they anointed with oil many who were sick and cured them.

I want to thank everyone for their prayers during my family vacation to India for the past two weeks. Let me give you a little taste of India. We wrapped our lips around delicious Indian delicacies like chicken curry and masala dosa. We rode around in 3-wheelers called “auto-rickshaws” and even though traffic was terrible, the cars parted around sacred cows in the road like the waters parted before Moses’s sacred staff. And one day we were walking along a road and a menacing male monkey came up threateningly to my 10-year old niece, Rebecca. It scared us. And like any loving uncle, I said, “Don’t move! I’m going to back up so I can get a good picture of both of you!” After all, my people need me back in Fort Smith.

But the most poignant part of our trip was seeing all the dire poverty. We saw one man with only one leg scooting along on a skateboard with a tin can begging for alms. My niece saw one mother washing her baby with rain water from the run-off of the street. And lots and lots of people were sleeping outside. I began to experience how poverty is a powerful motivator and tugs at the hearts of conscientious people to do one of two things. Most people respond to abject poverty by trying to alleviate it, by giving alms or provide some other assistance. But others see poverty as an invitation to join those who are suffering, a sign of solidarity with the poor, as if to say, “you do not suffer alone.”

One day a mother brought her unruly and rambunctious child to Mahatma Gandhi and asked his advice. After a few moments of discussion, Gandhi said, “I know what’s wrong with him. Come back in one month and I will tell you.” The puzzled mother left and returned after one month. Gandhi answered: “Your child has too much sugar in his diet. He must stop eating sweets.” The mother asked: “Why didn’t you tell me this one month ago?” Gandhi smiled and answered: “One month ago, I had not given up eating sweets.” Gandhi wanted to practice what he preached, especially poverty. If he was going to tell the child to be poor in sweets – give up candy – then he would be poor in sweets first. Gandhi was great because he showed solidarity with the poor; they knew they did not suffer alone.

Jesus wants his apostles also to practice poverty as they preach the gospel. In this way the apostles would awaken in others that two-fold desire either to alleviate their necessity, or even to join them in their journey of faith. We read in Mark 6: “Jesus instructed them to take nothing for the journey but a walking stick – no food, no sack, no money in their belts.” It’s as if he were saying, “When people see your poverty, they will open their homes to take care of you, and more importantly, they will open their hearts to your message. Poverty has an irresistible evangelical pull that draws people to the Good News of Jesus like bees are drawn to honey. The reason millions of poor Indians followed Gandhi was not only because of his oratorical skills – he certainly had those – but above all because he walked in solidarity with the poor. He became poor in sweets before he instructed a child to give up sweets, and Jesus teaches his apostles to do the same regarding poverty of the world’s goods.

My friends, we don’t have to travel half way around the world to see the poor. There is plenty of poverty right here in our own community. Last week Dc. Greg spoke about the first response of conscientious people to poverty, namely, make a donation in order to palliate a little of their pain. Today, I’d like to suggest some examples of the second response; that is, solidarity with the poor. Specifically, I’d like you to consider walking with the poor in terms of poverty of time, poverty of food, and poverty of sex. We will never convince the world of the Good News of Christ until we obey Jesus’ injunction to “take nothing for the journey but a walking stick.”

First poverty of time. You may already think you are “time poor” with not enough hours in the day to do everything you’ve planned. But I urge you to give even more of your precious little time to those in need, particularly those right around you like your family. When Bishop Sartain was bishop of Little Rock, he always seemed to have time to talk to me, and never seemed too busy. I remember thinking, “Man, I’d like to be a bishop someday – they don’t have anything to do all day but talk to people!” But I’ve learned that he was willing to become poor in time – have less time for himself – so he could make me rich with his time. Give to the poor some of your time.

Secondly, poverty of food. Are your eyes bigger than your stomach when you sit down for supper? When I saw all the people who seemed emaciated and perhaps even starving in India, I became very self-conscious of how much food I pile on my plate and then end up throwing away. A priest once told me that you should always get up from the table a little bit hungry, which is not only good for losing a little weight, but also helpful in walking in solidarity with the poor. Like Gandhi, we should not suggest someone else make sacrifices without carrying the cross ourselves; those who don’t have enough to eat know they are not alone.

Thirdly, poverty of sex. I apologize if this topic strikes you as inappropriate for church, but it too is part of the Good News, more precisely, practicing the virtue of purity. The Church’s stance on sex – no contraception, no premarital sex, no homosexual sex, etc. – seems to elicit the greatest guffaw from modern Americans, and perhaps for that reason, deserves all the more to be mentioned. In a sex-saturated culture like ours it seems ludicrous and laughable to suggest that we tame our sexual appetites. Who does that? Pope St. John Paul II explained that the virtue of purity or chastity requires self-mastery, or self-sacrifice. When we sacrifice sex, becoming poor in sex, we join in solidarity with the divorced, with the widowed, with the single people, and even with Catholic priests! When we give up a little sex, we tell those who do not enjoy that privilege they are not alone.

There’s a story about Mahatma Gandhi that is probably apocryphal but may well be true. He once reportedly said: “I would have become a Christian, if I had ever met a real one.” Maybe we would be more authentic Christians, and consequently convert more people to Christianity, if we practiced poverty like both Gandhi and Jesus taught and “take nothing for the journey.” How different the world would be if Gandhi had become a Roman Catholic.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Who Made Who

Seeing death as simply sleeping with the angels

07/01/2018

Wisdom 1:13-15; 2:23-24 God did not make death, nor does he rejoice in the destruction of the living. For he fashioned all things that they might have being; and the creatures of the world are wholesome, and there is not a destructive drug among them nor any domain of the netherworld on earth, for justice is undying. For God formed man to be imperishable; the image of his own nature he made him. But by the envy of the devil, death entered the world, and they who belong to his company experience it.

I hate to admit this in public but I am a fan of the heavy-metal rock band called AC/DC. Their songs are not always very moral or even especially musical, but I fell in love with them when I heard their hit song, “Back in Black.” I play that song whenever I return from vacation and put on my black clergy clothes. Now you know the real Fr. John.

The band also released a very thought-provoking song in 1984 called, “Who Made Who.” The lyrics leave the listener pondering not only the relationship between man and technology (which is what the song is ostensibly about) but also the broader question of the relationship between someone who creates and what they make. Whenever you create something you become inevitably entangled in your creation to such an extent that it becomes difficult to tell “who made who.” Listen to the refrain from that song: “Who made who, who made you? / Who made who, ain’t nobody told you? / Who made who, who made you? / If you made them and they made you / Who picked up the bill and who made who? / Ain’t nobody told you?”

The Renaissance painter Michaelangelo painted the Sistine Chapel, his creation, but didn’t that painting also sort of “make” Michaelangelo very famous? Everyone has heard of Beenthoven’s 9th symphony, but didn’t the sublime beauty of that symphony also “make” Beethoven a household name? When I published a book of homilies, a friend said that you reveal a little of yourself through your writing. Now some people know me only through my creation. Whatever we create something, that new creation also creates us a little bit and we wonder, “who made who?”

Our scriptures today wrestle with the question of death. You might say: the biblical authors pose the question to death, “Who made you?” The Old Testament book of Wisdom gives a clear and categorical answer: “God did not make death, nor does he rejoice in the destruction of the living.” God did not create death because he does not want to get tangled up with it; he doesn’t want to dirty his hands with death. A few verses later, we see who is responsible for death. We read: “But by the envy of the devil, death entered the world, and they who belong to his company experience it.” In other words, death was ushered into the world by the devil, and therefore, death and the devil are hopelessly entangled and entwined. Sadly, death also entangles all those who walk in the company of the devil, those who do evil.

This explains why Jesus treats death so differently than his contemporaries did. When Our Lord enters the room of Jairus’ deceased daughter, he simply says: “Why all this commotion and weeping? The child is not dead but asleep.” Jesus does not cower or cringe or cry in the face of death. Why? Because he had nothing to do with its creation, and therefore it has nothing to do with him; it cannot touch him. Jesus came, rather, to disentangle man from death, as Psalm 124:7 says: “We escaped with our lives like a bird from the fowler’s snare; the snare was broken and we escaped.” If we ask the specter of death, “Who made you?” the inspired authors of scripture would answer: “Death came from the devil, not from God, and thus eternally entangled the devil and his followers with death.” Whatever we create, in a sense, also creates us whenever we ask, who made you?

My friends, how do you look at death? The way we look at death says not only something about death itself but also something about us, that is, it reveals in whose company we walk. Sometimes we look at death as our greatest enemy, and try to do everything to postpone it or forget about it altogether. It’s just too scary. I was talking to an altar server before mass one day and asked him, “Do you know how old I am?” He suspected a trap, so he guessed low: “29 years old?” I said, “That’s very close; I’m 48.” Then I asked, “Do you think that’s old?” He answered very diplomatically, “Not really.” I probed a little further, “Do you think you’ll ever be 48?” He immediately shot back: “No way!” He dropped all diplomacy and gave me an honest answer. He couldn’t imagine being as old as 48, and he certainly couldn’t imagine death. That’s how most of us think about death, that is, we don’t, because it’s too scary.

But how differently Jesus looked at death, as little more than sleep. In fact, he got quite perturbed with the people making a lot of commotion about death. Now, I don’t mean to sound judgmental or critical of someone who is overcome with sorrow when a loved one passes away. I felt that grief when my nephew died. That’s very normal and a sign of deep love and loss. Nevertheless, as we walk in the company of Christ, a slow but steady change comes over us, especially regarding death. Fear gives way to faith and everything and everyone begins to look a little different. We are beginning to see as God sees, that’s the definition of faith. When faith fills our eyes, death does not seem so devastating, but rather more like a long afternoon nap.

So, if we asked death, “Who made you?” The scriptures resoundingly answer: death comes from the devil and entangles him and his followers for eternity. But those who keep the company of Christ, death will only seem like sleep. Whenever I go to someone’s home for supper and it’s time for the kids to go to bed, I hug them and whisper in their ear, “Sleep with the angels; and don’t let them push you out of bed.” That’s what death feels like for a Christian.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Pain Relief

Enduring some pain for sake of spiritual benefits

06/30/2018

Matthew 8:5-17 When Jesus entered Capernaum, a centurion approached him and appealed to him, saying, "Lord, my servant is lying at home paralyzed, suffering dreadfully." He said to him, "I will come and cure him." The centurion said in reply, "Lord, I am not worthy to have you enter under my roof; only say the word and my servant will be healed. For I too am a man subject to authority, with soldiers subject to me. And I say to one, 'Go,' and he goes; and to another, 'Come here,' and he comes; and to my slave, 'Do this,' and he does it." When Jesus heard this, he was amazed and said to those following him, "Amen, I say to you, in no one in Israel have I found such faith." And Jesus said to the centurion, "You may go; as you have believed, let it be done for you." And at that very hour his servant was healed. Jesus entered the house of Peter, and saw his mother-in-law lying in bed with a fever. He touched her hand, the fever left her, and she rose and waited on him.  When it was evening, they brought him many who were possessed by demons, and he drove out the spirits by a word and cured all the sick, to fulfill what had been said by Isaiah the prophet: He took away our infirmities and bore our diseases.

The most natural thing in the world is that sooner or later you will get hurt and feel some pain. Perhaps you will fall off your bike and break a leg, or be in a car accident, or someone will slander your reputation, or someone you love will fall sick or die. Pain is a part of life. And what’s also very normal and natural is we try to alleviate or avoid the pain. Archbishop Fulton Sheen recalled when he had a toothache as a little boy he would always run to his grandmother never to his mother. His mother would take him to the dentist, who often inflicted more pain, but his grandmother rubbed some soothing oil on the tooth and gums and the pain subsided, at least momentarily. A multi-billion dollar prescription drug industry flourishes in the United States to help Americans manage their pain. But in the end, we just want someone to make the pain go away, like Fulton Sheen’s grandmother did for him.

The pursuit of pain relief is not an exclusively American predicament; the first century Jews also sought pain relief. Matthew recounts the numerous times Jesus healed people, and soothed their pain: the Roman Centurion’s servant, Peter’s mother-in-law, many possessed by demons and others who were sick. But what I find curious is not so much what Jesus did, but what he did not do. Surely there must have been millions of people throughout the world at the same time suffering untold maladies and disorders and he could have healed them with a snap of his sacred fingers. But Jesus did not do that. Jesus’ behavior was not like that of Fulton Sheen’s grandmother, but rather like that of his mother. In other words, like a wise mother that knows a little pain is necessary to heal a bigger problem (like cavities), so Jesus allows some physical pain so that we might be healed spiritually (like from sin). Indeed, our prayer life is never more passionate or purposeful than when we are in pain.

Please don’t misunderstand me or jump to conclusions that I’m advocating inflicting pain or enduring pain for the heck of it. God wants us to be happy and healed and whole, and he does not want to see us suffer. But sometimes a little pain and discomfort can have a higher purpose. Consider a few examples. Enduring a little hunger pain can help you lose weight because you avoid eating unhealthy snacks. Occasionally, not taking a pain reliever at the first hint of a headache allows the body to adjust naturally to discomfort and overcome it. We can also endure pain for the sake of others. Catholic parents used to advise their children who underwent unpleasant experiences, “Offer it up!” If I stub my toe at the end of the bed while making my bed in the morning, I exclaim, “Praised be Jesus Christ!” instead of an obscene expletive. St. Josemaria Escriva, the founder of Opus Dei, often urged his followers to make little unnoticed sacrifice, like sitting up straight in their chair instead of slouching. It’s good for the body and the soul! There is nothing more natural than seeking pain relief, but enduring a little pain can also prove more healthy for the body and the soul.

M. Scott Peck opened his best-selling book called The Road Less Traveled with these daring lines: “Life is difficult. This is a great truth, one of the greatest truths. It is a great truth because once we truly see this truth, we transcend it. Once we truly know that life is difficult – once we truly understand it and accept it – then life is no longer difficult. Because once it is accepted, the fact that life is difficult no longer matters.” In other words, approach pain like your mother might, not like your grandmother might (no offense to grandmothers).

Praised be Jesus Christ!