Voice Verification

Learning to hear the sound of our own voice

10/31/2021

Mk 12:28b-34 One of the scribes came to Jesus and asked him, "Which is the first of all the commandments?" Jesus replied, "The first is this: Hear, O Israel! The Lord our God is Lord alone! You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength. The second is this: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. There is no other commandment greater than these." The scribe said to him, "Well said, teacher. You are right in saying, 'He is One and there is no other than he.' And 'to love him with all your heart, with all your understanding, with all your strength, and to love your neighbor as yourself' is worth more than all burnt offerings and sacrifices." And when Jesus saw that he answered with understanding, he said to him, "You are not far from the kingdom of God." And no one dared to ask him any more questions.

Sooner or later we all have trouble with our hearing. For example, some of you… Could you hear what I mean? After some pressure from his family, an elderly man who was hard of hearing finally visited his doctor. After a lengthy exam the doctor identified the problem and prescribed a solution. The man took the prescription and the doctor told him to return in a week so he could check on his progress. A week later the man returned for his check-up. The doctor announced very pleased, “You hearing is perfect! Your family must be delighted.” The man replied: “Oh, I have not told them yet. I just sit around the house and listen to them talking. So far, I have changed my will three times!”

I am convinced, however, that the hardest people to hear is not someone else but ourselves. What do I mean? Well, I will never forget the advice Fr. Tom Elliot – while he was still Fr. Tom – gave someone who came to him for counseling many years ago. The person was very hysterical and going on and on about all their problems and how everyone else was to blame for causing them. Suddenly, Fr. Tom stopped them and said politely: “Can you hear yourself talking right now?”

The person became instantly self-aware and finally heard their own voice sounding very irrational and unrealistic. Have you ever noticed how your voice sounds so strange in a recording and not at all like you think it sounds? Well, the recording is your true voice and how you really sound, and you are hearing yourself perhaps for the very first time. In other words, when it comes to our own voice, we are all a little hard of hearing.

In the gospel today, Jesus does a little hearing check with one of the scribes. Jesus answers the scribe's question about which commandment is the greatest, and then our Lord, the divine audiologist, waits to see what the scribe heard. And the scribe is actually able to repeat what Jesus said because he heard and listened well. In other words, it was not enough for the scribe merely to hear Jesus’ answer and hear Jesus’ voice.

The scribe had to put the answer into his own words and utter his understanding with his own voice and his own vocal chords. Why? Well, the external commandment of love of God needed to be internalized and said with the scribe’s own voice. The mouth is the echo chamber of the heart. Thus Jesus said, “You are not far from the Kingdom of God.” Why? Well, because the scribe had overcome the hardness of hearing his own voice. His voice verified that the Kingdom of God was beating in his own heart.

Let me give you three examples where we, too, may be suffering from a little hardness of hearing, especially when it comes to hearing our own voice. Several years ago I was giving a presentation on one of my books, and I became very excited and exuberant. (I know you find that hard to believe.) Afterward I asked a friend, who had known me since childhood, how the presentation went.

She answered very kindly, “To be honest, you sounded a little arrogant.” I wanted to answer: “If you were not being honest, how did I sound?” I gotta tell you, her criticism was not easy to hear. But do you know what was even harder to hear? It was the sound of my own voice, which I confess did indeed come across as arrogant. I was hard of hearing my own voice.

Here is a second example. When I prepare young couples for marriage, I ask them a series of questions about how serious they are for marriage. For instance, I ask: Do you want to be married for life? Do you intend to be faithful to your spouse? Will you accept children from God? And sometimes the couple only nods their head in agreement.

But I tell them that is not good enough. They have to answer the questions out loud, so that they can hear the sound of their own voice uttering their vows. I want their voice to be echo chamber of their hearts and reflect what they really feel. Why? Well, as the years go by and the tears rain down, it becomes harder to hear the sound of our own voice and when you originally said those vows. Married couples can become hard of hearing to their own voice.

Here is a third example. I am so proud of all of our teachers and catechists who are sharing the faith in our school and religious education programs. They are like the scribe in the gospel today, who hear Jesus’ voice and then they translate the faith with their own voice and share it with the next generation. I hope they can hear the sound of their own voice when they teach the Gospel. I have no doubt Jesus is saying to our school teachers and PRE catechists, “You are not far from the Kingdom of God.” Like Fr. Tom Elliot said, “Can you hear yourself talking right now?”

My friends, Jesus listens to us speaking daily like that father who had his hearing healed even if we don’t think he hears us. But Jesus does not change his will and our inheritance based on what we blurt out, sometimes arrogantly. Rather, he helps us to hear our own voice with the help of his grace. Only if we can over overcome our hardness of hearing our own voices, will we also hear Jesus’ voice saying: “You are not far from the Kingdom of God.”

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Song and Sword

Learning the importance of music in the liturgy

10/28/2021

Lk 6:12-16 Jesus went up to the mountain to pray, and he spent the night in prayer to God. When day came, he called his disciples to himself, and from them he chose Twelve, whom he also named Apostles: Simon, whom he named Peter, and his brother Andrew, James, John, Philip, Bartholomew, Matthew, Thomas, James the son of Alphaeus, Simon who was called a Zealot, and Judas the son of James, and Judas Iscariot, who became a traitor.

Do you have trouble remembering things? One of the best ways to aid your memory is with music. For example, can you name the twelve apostles that Jesus picks in the gospel today? You might guess most of them, but you might also miss one or two. I recently heard the names of the apostles set to music and it made it a lot easier for my poor memory. It went with the tune of “Jesus loves me this I know.”

It goes: “Jesus called them one by one, / Peter, Andrew, James and John, / Next came Philip, Thomas too, Matthew and Bartholomew. / Yes, Jesus called them, / Yes, Jesus called them, / Yes, Jesus called them, / He called them one by one. / James the one they call the less, / Simon also Thaddeus, / Twelfth apostle Judas made, / Jesus was by him betrayed. / Yes, Jesus called them, / Yes, Jesus called them, / Yes, Jesus called them, / He called them one by one.” If you sing that song a few times you will never forget the names of the twelve apostles, especially Simon and Jude.

I believe the connection between music and memory goes much deeper than learning a few names. It serves a liturgical function, that is, music stands in service of prayer and praise at Mass. St. Augustine famously said, “He who sings prays twice.” We Catholics are notorious for not singing – although we love to complain about other people’s singing – and so our worship suffers from a severe deficit. If the person who sings “prays twice,” then most of us Catholics are only “praying once” as we recite our prayers without musical accompaniment.

Ever since the COVID pandemic started we have cut back on singing, and we even removed the hymnals from the pews for a while. Of course we did that with an abundance of caution for people’s health and not to spread the virus. But the missing music was painfully obvious. Several parishioners asked me, “Fr. John, when are we going to start singing at Mass again?” My sarcastic side wanted to reply: “I would love to know when we Catholics will ever start singing!”

Did you know that many of the parts the priest says at Mass should really be sung? That is why many of our associate priests – well trained in seminary – have sung the opening prayer, the Alleluia, the Preface, etc. They are not showing off, but rather they sing because they are truly praying and praising God. The priest who sings prays twice. In other words, music does not just help us remember the apostles’ names; music is the best way to invoke God’s name at Mass.

Did you know that music is also essential in the Bible? In today’s gospel we read: “Jesus went up the mountain to pray, and he spent the night in prayer to God.” How did Jesus pray? He did not pray the rosary all night. Jesus, being a good Jew, had a prayer book: it was the Psalter, the 150 Psalms. But the Jews did not recite the psalms like we recite the Responsorial Psalm at Mass. Rather, they sang it. It probably helped them remember the 150 psalms like music helps us remember the twelve apostles. When Jesus spends the night in prayer, therefore, we should imagine him on the mountainside singing the psalms and praising his heavenly Father.

If you study the book of Revelation closely, you will discover it is punctuated with hymn after hymn after hymn. Indeed, in just three chapters, Rv 4, 5, and 7, we find seven hymns that the angels and saints sing to worship God. And we sing some of those hymns at Mass, like the Holy, Holy, Holy in Rv. 4, or at least we should sing them. That is why the army of angels is best called “choirs of angels” (Rv. 5:11). The angels know better than St. Augustine that "he who sings prays twice."

In other words, when we sing in the liturgy (at Mass), we join the army of angels who march in musical formation and defeat the Evil One, with both song and sword, much like the Marines march in musical rhythm and sing as they go to war. And if we look a little closer at the spiritual battle, we will see that the song is the sword.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

I Live Here

Seeing the church as our primary residence

10/26/2021

Lk 13:18-21 Jesus said, “What is the Kingdom of God like? To what can I compare it? It is like a mustard seed that a man took and planted in the garden. When it was fully grown, it became a large bush and the birds of the sky dwelt in its branches.” Again he said, To what shall I compare the Kingdom of God? It is like yeast that a woman took and mixed in with three measures of wheat flour until the whole batch of dough was leavened.”

When family or friends come to visit me here at Immaculate Conception, they inevitably ask, “Where do you live?” And I smile and say, “I live in the white house!” Then I point out the two-story white residence across Rogers Avenue from the church. People are always curious to know what the priest’s house, which Roman Catholics call a “rectory” and Protestants a “parsonage,” looks like. But I rarely take people inside because of how super-sensitive (perhaps paranoid?) we have become in the wake of the sexual abuse scandal. So, the rectory remains a mystery to most curious Catholics.

In fact, after Sunday Mass one morning, an inquisitive child looked toward the sacristy (the room where the priests prepare for Mass), and asked, “Do you have a bed in there?” In that little lad’s mind the priest must magically appear from that room and just as mysteriously disappear back into it, so he must have a bed in there to sleep. He wasn’t far from the truth. I do consider the church more my home than the rectory. Why?

Well because what we do here in church – celebrate the Mass and other sacraments (like baptisms, weddings and funerals), read and reflect on the Sunday Scriptures, pray for each other, and praise our Heavenly Father together – all that will last a lot longer than what I do in the white house, the rectory. In other words, this church is my real home, and the rectory is just where I sleep, shower and shave. To the question, “Where do you live?” my answer would be, “I live here.”

In the gospel today, Jesus presents a couple of his kingdom parables. In a sense, the kingdom parables are Jesus’ own answer to the question, “Where do you live?” Notice in these two parables in Luke 13, Jesus wants to highlight that the kingdom is both huge but also hidden. Like a small mustard seed that grows to be a home for all the birds of the sky, the kingdom is huge. But also like a little leaven that quietly raises the whole batch of dough, the kingdom is hidden.

Those two qualities of the Kingdom of God are also characteristics of the Church. The Catholic Church spreads her branches to the four corners of the earth for every bird to find a home, and she also grows quietly like the leaven of faith in the hearts of believers, like the people going through RCIA every year. To the question, “Where do you live?” Jesus would point to the Church – the people of God united in Word and sacrament – and say, “I live here.” But Jesus would also add, “And you should live here, too.” In other words, make the Kingdom of God  your primary residence.

My friends, we all love our own homes and try to make each one a little heaven on earth. I love to visit people in their homes and bless their homes so they will experience both peace and prosperity there. But do you know what will eventually happened to that home? You will leave it in someone else’s hands. When I arrived here in 2013, I visited Eddie and Betty Christian in their home on Park Avenue.

Since then I celebrated both their funerals and today, Bill and Karen Hollenbeck live in that house. And one day, they too will leave that house on Park Avenue in someone else’s hands. In a spiritual sense, that home on Park is where the Hollenbecks sleep, shower and shave. But it is here, inside these four walls of the church, where they experience real living, with Word and sacrament, prayer and praise, love and laughter.

I always ask young couples preparing for marriage, “Where is your spiritual home?” That is, where do you go to church? Sometimes, that is a hard question for them to answer because they may not go regularly to Mass anywhere. But over the years, and perhaps after shedding many tears, they, too, will learn where they merely sleep, shower and shave, and where they, too, might answer, “I live here.”

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Climb a Mountain

Scaling the sides of life’s mountains

10/25/2021

Rom 8:12-17 Brothers and sisters, we are not debtors to the flesh, to live according to the flesh. For if you live according to the flesh, you will die, but if by the spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live. For those who are led by the Spirit of God are sons of God. For you did not receive a spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you received a spirit of adoption, through which we cry, “Abba, Father!” The Spirit himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs, heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ, if only we suffer with him so that we may also be glorified with him.

Have you ever told someone: “Go climb a mountain!”? Do you know who loved to take that advice? Pope St. John Paul II. While archbishop of Krakow, he frequently took trips to climb the local Tatras Mountains. Later as pope, he ventured to the Val d’Acosta region of the Italian Alps to scale those shimmering peaks. The pope frequently compared mountain climbing to the challenges of the Christian life.

He once wrote to a group of climbers: “Mountain climbing requires rigorous virtues in those who practice it: strict discipline and self-control, prudence and a spirit of sacrifice and dedication, care and solidarity for others. Thus we can say that mountain climbing develops character.” And he concluded: “In contact with the beauties of the mountains…man enters into himself…and is lifted up to God on the breath of prayer and gratitude toward the Creator.” In other words, mountain climbing contributes to Christian maturity by building fortitude, teaching love of neighbor and inspiring contemplation. That is why you should tell someone, “Go climb a mountain!”

I love whenever we read from Romans 8 in the liturgy, our first reading. Why? Well, if all the letters of St. Paul were considered a huge mountain range, like the Himalayan Mountains, his epistle to the Romans would be Mt. Everest, the highest peak. And of the 16 chapters of Romans, chapter 8 clearly stands head and shoulders above the rest. The great New Testament scholar, N. T. Wright, wrote this about Romans: “It dwarfs most of his other writings, an Alpine peak towering over hills and villages.” He continued: “We are dealing here with a work of massive substance, presenting a formidable intellectual challenge while offering a breath-taking theological and spiritual vision.”

In Romans 8, the apex of the Apostle’s theological presentation, he speaks about the Holy Spirit. Paul preaches: “For you did not receive a spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you received a spirit of adoption, through which we cry, ‘Abba! Father!’” Seeing the spiritual landscape from the Alpine peak of Romans 8 and contemplating how the Spirit has made us sons and daughters, Paul sensed what John Paul predicted: “In contact with the beauties of the mountains…man enters into himself…and is lifted up to God on the breath of prayer and gratitude to the Creator.” That is, reading and studying the letters of St. Paul can be like climbing a mountain, whose peak is chapter 8 of Romans. With that metaphor in mind, you should tell someone: “Go climb a mountain!” In other words, study scripture!

My friends, what are the mountains you are climbing in your life lately? I don’t mean literally (necessarily), but also spiritually or morally or socially. I have recently been getting tennis lessons from Fr. Daniel, and it feels like climbing Mt. Everest to try to be as good as him. His game is definitely “an Alpine peak towering over my little hills and villages.” But I keep climbing with his help.

Perhaps your mountain is a moral challenge, a nagging sin like alcoholism or some sexual sin. I would urge you like John Paul, not to give up the climb but rather seek solidarity with others, and learn self-discipline, and climb with a spirit of contemplative prayer. Do not take your eyes off the mountain peak of sobriety and freedom, available and attainable to all God’s children. Cry out with the Holy Spirit when you feel like giving up the climb, “Abba, Father!” and the Father will throw down a rope and pull you up higher.

Or maybe your mountain is a physical challenge like a diagnosis of M.S. or the return of cancer, or the limitations of growing older and less physical freedom and activity. You feel like a prisoner in your own body and your own home. That, too, can feel like an impossible mountain to climb. Well my advice to you would be: “Go climb that mountain!” Why? Well, because as Jesus assured his apostles: “All things are possible with God” (Mt. 19:26).

You know, I look at my parents as great mountain climbers, too. Over their long life they have conquered many peaks: coming to a new country, raising a Catholic family, building successful careers, living the American dream. It is fitting that they have retired to the mountains of Northwest Arkansas and can survey the surrounding peaks. I hope they feel what Pope St. John Paul II said: “In contact with the beauties of the Mountains…man enters into himself…and is lifted up to God on the breath of prayer and gratitude to the Creator.”

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Looking Smart

Learning to see deeper with eyes of faith

10/24/2021

Mk 10:46-52 As Jesus was leaving Jericho with his disciples and a sizable crowd, Bartimaeus, a blind man, the son of Timaeus, sat by the roadside begging. On hearing that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to cry out and say, "Jesus, son of David, have pity on me." And many rebuked him, telling him to be silent. But he kept calling out all the more, "Son of David, have pity on me." Jesus stopped and said, "Call him." So they called the blind man, saying to him, "Take courage; get up, Jesus is calling you." He threw aside his cloak, sprang up, and came to Jesus. Jesus said to him in reply, "What do you want me to do for you?" The blind man replied to him, "Master, I want to see." Jesus told him, "Go your way; your faith has saved you." Immediately he received his sight and followed him on the way.

Do you think people who wear glasses are smarter than people who do not wear glasses? If that is true, then I must be smarter than all of you here today with perfect eyes! That is what I believed in elementary school. My best friend, David, always made really good grades, while I struggled to squeeze out a C. I wondered: what made him so smart?

Then one day I realized he wore glasses and that must be his secret to smartness! I even feigned a little fuzziness in my vision and convinced my parents to get me glasses and be as smart as David. But sadly my grades stayed the same, even though I looked so smart! Of course, as the years went by and I entered my 40’s, I really did need glasses to help me read as my eyesight slowly started to fade.

And here is the funny thing: when I turned older and needed glasses for real, I did become sort of smarter. How so? Well, I finally began to see and understood what my parents and priests and teachers and coaches were trying to tell me as a teenager. I thought I was so smart as a teenager, walking around and being able to see everything clearly. But when I started wearing glasses, I could finally “see” what they were teaching me, and I saw they were right about many things. That is, sometimes the less you see physically, the more you see spiritually. That kind of seeing is what makes someone really smart.

The gospel today gives us a great example of a blind person who sees better than people with perfect eyesight. A blind man named Bartimaeus is begging by a roadside when he hears Jesus was passing by. He called out, “Jesus, son of David, have pity on me.” And when Jesus asks him to come closer and state his request, Bartimaeus says: “Master, I want to see.” The fact that Bartimaeus addressed Jesus as “Son of David,” and as “Master,” showed that he already believed Jesus was the Messiah.

And notice how he did that before he got back his physical eyesight. Even though Bartimaeus was blind physically (before his healing), he had a kind of 20/20 spiritual vision, that helped him to see exactly who Jesus was. When our physical eyesight decreases, therefore, our spiritual eyesight increases. Why? Because we must see with the eyes of faith. And that kind of spiritual seeing is what really makes you smart.

My friends, I would suggest to you that this spiritual seeing with the eyes of faith helps us not only to identify who Jesus is as the Son of God, but also to identify who each other is as sons and daughters of God. What do I mean? Well, in 1 Jn 3:1 the Beloved Disciple writes: “See what love the Father has bestowed on us that we may be called the children of God. Yet so we are.” Then he adds this crucial verse: “The reason the world does not know us is that it did not know him.”

Notice how the verse begins with the word “see.” But the seeing St. John means is not the kind your optometrist would give you an “A+” for after you read every letter perfectly on the eye chart. Rather, it is the seeing of a blind man like Bartimaeus, who saw with blinding clarity who Jesus was. And John adds that same faith also allows us to see the spiritual depths of each person as a child of God. “Yet so we are.” Faith, in other words, helps us to perceive how everyone is a child of God, beginning with Jesus, the firstborn Son of God.

So, let me test your eyesight a little this morning. What do you see when you look around at the people in the world? For example, when you look at United States Congress, do you see merely Democrats and Republicans wrangling, do you see children of God? When you look toward our Southern border, do you see only immigrants and illegal aliens entering our country, or do you see children of God? When you look over at the troubled Middle East, do you see merely Muslims and Jews blowing each other up, or do you see children of God?

Closer to home, when you see a beautiful woman and, as Taylor Swift sang, “the fella over there with the hella good hair,” do you see an object of lust, or do you see children of God? And closest of all, when you look in the mirror each morning, do you see what the world sees (the wrinkles, the receding hairline, the glasses), or do you see a child of God?

In other words, we need faith to see who Jesus is, for sure; but we also need faith to see who others are, even to really see who we are. I need faith to really see you, and you need faith to really see me because our deepest identity is as a child of God. And sometimes those who are physically able to see less, are also those who are spiritually able to see more. And only when you look at the world through the eyes of faith are you really looking smart.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Millenarian Fantasies

Understanding the end of the world as we know it

10/20/2021

Lk 12:39-48 Jesus said to his disciples: “Be sure of this: if the master of the house had known the hour when the thief was coming, he would not have let his house be broken into. You also must be prepared, for at an hour you do not expect, the Son of Man will come.” Then Peter said, “Lord, is this parable meant for us or for everyone?” And the Lord replied, “Who, then, is the faithful and prudent steward whom the master will put in charge of his servants to distribute the food allowance at the proper time? Blessed is that servant whom his master on arrival finds doing so. Truly, I say to you, he will put him in charge of all his property. But if that servant says to himself, ‘My master is delayed in coming,’ and begins to beat the menservants and the maidservants, to eat and drink and get drunk, then that servant’s master will come on an unexpected day and at an unknown hour and will punish the servant severely and assign him a place with the unfaithful. That servant who knew his master’s will but did not make preparations nor act in accord with his will shall be beaten severely; and the servant who was ignorant of his master’s will but acted in a way deserving of a severe beating shall be beaten only lightly. Much will be required of the person entrusted with much, and still more will be demanded of the person entrusted with more.”

Do you think the world is about to end? When you hear about floods, and earthquakes, wars and famines, does that sounds like signs of the end times? I get that question a lot. Well, Hal Lindsay thought so and why he wrote his best-seller, “The Late Great Planet Earth.” It was the best-selling nonfiction book of the 1970’s, almost as popular as my books.

Lindsay argued that current events in the 1970’s were foretold in the Bible and by the 1980’s, Jesus’ second coming would occur and he would establish his 1,000 year reign called “millennialism.” Lindsay insisted that “the decade of the 1980’s could very well be the last decade of history as we know it.” But the only thing that ended with the eighties was big hair bands (thank goodness).

A better way to look at history, both its beginning and its end, is through the eyes of Pope St. John Paul II. On January 6, 2001, he wrote an apostolic letter called “Novo Milennio Ineunte” meaning “on the beginning of the new millennium.” There he cautioned Christians, “the coincidence of this Jubilee with the opening of the new millennium (the year 2000) has helped people to become more aware of the mystery of Christ within the great horizon of the history of salvation, without any concession to millenarian fantasies” (NMI, n. 5).

Does that phrase “millenarian fantasies” sound like a shot across the bow to Hal Lindsay and his like? Instead, the pope-saint invited us “to remember the past with gratitude, to live the present with enthusiasm, and to look forward to the future with confidence: ‘Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, and today, and for ever’ (Hb 13:8)” (NMI, n. 1).That, in other words, is how we Christian face the end of the world: with our confidence in Christ.

In the gospel today, Jesus also speaks about the end of time and his second coming. He urges his disciples: “You also must be prepared, for at an hour you do not expect, the Son of Man will come.” If you read the New Testament carefully, you will hear this sense that the early Christians believed Jesus would return in their life-time, kind of like Hal Lindsay did. And that hope and expectation was not entirely unfounded. Why not?

Well, when the Roman Army under General Titus marched on Jerusalem and destroyed the magnificent Temple, it truly felt like the “end of the world.” Indeed, it was the end of the Old Testament world whose religious, political, economic and cultural center was the Jerusalem Temple. The end of the Temple signaled the end of the world in their eyes. So, the early Christians and New Testament writers were not wrong that their world would end imminently, within their own generation.

And yet, in Hb 13:8, we hear the same bright-eyed confidence in Christ of Pope St. John Paul II, “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, and today, and for ever.” And therefore, when we are rooted in him, it does not matter if this world passes away, we will enjoy the eternity of Christ. In other words, as the pope urged us, do not give “any concession to millenarian fantasies.” Our confidence – that is, our peace, joy, enthusiasm, and optimism – is in Christ.

My friends, there is another sense in which we must worry about the end of the world. I don’t mean the end of the whole world like Hal Lindsay falsely predicted, but the end of our individual world, the end of our personal life. This week I have two funerals. On Monday I had the funeral for a 22 year-old man who died in a tragic motorcycle accident. And Thursday I will have the funeral for a 77 year-old lady who died after a battle with cancer.

Their individual worlds have come to an end, even if no one will make millions of dollars writing a book about them. We pray they did what John Paul advised and kept their eyes on Jesus, who is the same yesterday, and today, and forever, no matter how long or short one’s life is. And that is how we, too, will enjoy eternity whenever this world comes to an end.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

If It Bleeds

Sharing more good news than bad news

10/19/2021

Rom 5:12, 15b, 17-19, 20b-21 Brothers and sisters: Through one man sin entered the world, and through sin, death, and thus death came to all men, inasmuch as all sinned. If by that one person’s transgression the many died, how much more did the grace of God and the gracious gift of the one man Jesus Christ overflow for the many. For if, by the transgression of the one, death came to reign through that one, how much more will those who receive the abundance of grace and the gift of justification come to reign in life through the one Jesus Christ. In conclusion, just as through one transgression condemnation came upon all, so, through one righteous act acquittal and life came to all. For just as through the disobedience of one man the many were made sinners, so, through the obedience of the one the many will be made righteous. Where sin increased, grace overflowed all the more, so that, as sin reigned in death, grace also might reign through justification for eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Have you noticed how bad news seems far more fascinating than good news? There is an old adage in the newspaper industry that goes: “If it bleeds, it leads.” That means the leading story will often be tragic and if possible involve bloodshed. What was the front-page headline story Monday morning here in Fort Smith? Three people died in a domestic dispute, where a Fort Smith man killed his wife, his fifteen year old son, and a police officer shot and killed the man who had attacked him with a knife. If it bleeds, it leads.

And what was the conversation at lunch yesterday at the church office? We talked about that sad story. My only contribution to the conversation was to mention that I heard that Gen. Colin Powell had died from cancer and complications from the COVID virus even though he had been vaccinated. Notice how we are far more fascinated by the bad news and seem somewhat uninterested in the good news. “If it bleeds, it leads” is a rule that applies not only in newspaper, but also in our table talk.

In the first reading today, we hear perhaps my favorite scripture passage of the whole Bible, namely, Rm 5:20. St. Paul tells the Romans, “Where sin abounds, there grace abounds all the more.” In other words, no matter how bad the bad news gets, the good news is bound to be better. St. Paul understood the human psyche and our fascination with bad news, and he knew the Romans were really into blood and battle. That is why they constructed the Colosseum and why they tortured and terrorized Christians in it. It was Roman soldiers, after all, who crucified and killed our Savior on the Cross. The Romans would raise a toast to that old adage, “If it bleeds, it leads.”

And yet, St. Paul could harness our fascination for the bad news and make it the springboard to preach about the greatness of the Good News. That is, no matter what the world throws at Jesus – and there is no sin worse the deicide, the attempted killing of God – three days later we hear the Good News of the Resurrection.

It is interesting how there are 46 books in the Old Testament, that tell the tale of how bad the bad news was. And only 27 books in the New Testament, where we hear how good the Good News of love and life is. Again, the bad news seems more savory than the good news. If it bleeds, it leads, and that is pretty much what we find in the Old Testament.

My friends, as you go throughout your day, try to pay attention to what you see more of, hear more of and share more of. Is it the bad news or the good news? Which adage dominates your discussions: “If it bleeds, it leads,” or “Where sin abounds, there grace abounds all the more”? We can even merely mull over how miserable my life is, instead of counting my blessings.

That is, when you hear the bad news – and you are likely to hear a lot more bad than good – try to inject a little grace into the mixture. One way is to pray for those involved in the bad news: we can pray for that family in Fort Smith, where three people died. We can pray for the peaceful repose of the soul of Gen. Colin Powell. That is how the Good News of grace abounds more than the bad news of sin and death.

We cannot be like those three monkeys who cover their eyes, their ears and their mouth, who try to see no evil, hear no evil and speak no evil. We cannot bury our heads in the sand and pretend there is not a lot of bad news in the world. Nevertheless, like St. Paul taught the Romans, we can open our eyes, ears and mouth, and know that no matter how bad the bad news gets, the Good News of grace is always greater.

Praised be Jesus Christ!