Di Cuore

Forgiving from the heart

Matthew 18:21-35

            Peter approached Jesus and asked him, “Lord, if my brother sins against me, how often must I forgive him? As many as seven times?” Jesus answered, “I say to you, not seven times but seventy-seven times. That is why the Kingdom of heaven may be likened to a king who decided to settle accounts with his servants. When he began the accounting, a debtor was brought before him who owed him a huge amount. Since he had no way of paying it back, his master ordered him to be sold, along with his wife, his children, and all his property, in payment of the debt. At that, the servant fell down, did him homage, and said, ‘Be patient with me, and I will pay you back in full.’ Moved with compassion the master of that servant let him go and forgave him the loan. When that servant had left, he found one of his fellow servants who owed him a much smaller amount. He seized him and started to choke him, demanding, ‘Pay back what you owe.’ Falling to his knees, his fellow servant begged him, ‘Be patient with me, and I will pay you back.’ But he refused. Instead, he had him put in prison until he paid back the debt. Now when his fellow servants saw what had happened, they were deeply disturbed, and went to their master and reported the whole affair. His master summoned him and said to him, ‘You wicked servant! I forgave you your entire debt because you begged me to. Should you not have had pity on your fellow servant, as I had pity on you?’ Then in anger his master handed him over to the torturers until he should pay back the whole debt. So will my heavenly Father do to you, unless each of you forgives your brother from your heart.”

            One of my favorite parts of the Mass is the end of Mass, when I get to greet people as they are leaving.  I know a lot of people also like that part of Mass, because it’s over!  Some parishioners make a point to come over and say hello, while I’ve noticed other parishioners make a point to avoid me and exit through another door!  They think I don’t see them, but I do!  I especially love watching the small children.  Some run up to me and jump up and give me a big bear hug.  Others can’t stand to look at me – I can’t blame them – and their parents have to cajole them to look at me and say, “Good morning, Father.”  Hispanic parents always teach their children to shake hands with the person they are greeting.  Some Latino children look the other way as they shake my hand; their hand is close but their heart is a million miles away.  And that’s what really matters, isn’t it, what comes from the heart?  A priest friend of mine who lived in Rome always signed his letters, “Di cuore,” which is Italian and means, “From the heart.”  What matters most is what comes from the heart.

            Today’s gospel concerns Jesus parable of forgiveness. Much has been made of how many times Jesus says you should forgive, not seven times but seventy-seven times.  Scripture scholars explain that the phrase “seventy-seven” is really a symbolic number and means a limitless number of times.  You must always forgive, no matter how many times someone offends you.  But for me that’s not really the point of the parable, rather, it’s the last line, where Jesus says, “each of you must forgive your brother from your heart.”  Sometimes we forgive our neighbor but we’re like those children after Mass who shake my hand but look the other way.  Our lips are moving and saying the right words, but our hearts are a million miles away.  And what matters is what comes from the heart, “di cuore.”  And it’s easy to tell when something is heartfelt, and when it isn't.

            I’m a big fan of “Alabama” – not the football team, but the country music band!  In one song, they say, “Play me some mountain music, That comes from the heart, Play something with lots of feeling, Cause that’s where music has to start.”  The heart is also where forgiveness has to start; otherwise, forgiveness is phoney.  Today, think of someone you have to forgive, maybe your spouse, or a sibling, or an old friend.  Reach out to them and apologize or forgive them.  But don’t be like those small children after Mass who extend their hand but not their heart; don't just forgive with your lips, but also with love.  It won't matter if you forgive your brother “seventy-seven times” if that forgiveness doesn’t come “di cuore.”

            Praised be Jesus Christ!

The Nose Knows

Treating our bodies like temples

John 2:13-21

             

Since the Passover of the Jews was near, Jesus went up to Jerusalem. He found in the temple area those who sold oxen, sheep, and doves,  as well as the money changers seated there. He made a whip out of cords and drove them all out of the temple area, with the sheep and oxen,  and spilled the coins of the money changers and overturned their tables,  and to those who sold doves he said, “Take these out of here,  and stop making my Father’s house a marketplace.” His disciples recalled the words of Scripture,  Zeal for your house will consume me. At this the Jews answered and said to him, “What sign can you show us for doing this?” Jesus answered and said to them,  “Destroy this temple and in three days I will raise it up.” The Jews said,  “This temple has been under construction for forty-six years,  and you will raise it up in three days?” But he was speaking about the temple of his body.

            Things are not always as obvious as they seem.  Of course, people say things like, “That’s as plain as the nose on your face!”  But is the nose on your face so plain?  Do you know where you nose came from?  One day a little girl asked her mother, “Where did people come from?”  Her mother answered, “God made Adam and Eve and they had children, and that’s how all mankind was made.”  A couple of days later, she asked her father the same question.  He said, “Many years ago, there were monkeys, which the human race eventually evolved from.”  The confused girl returned to her mother and asked, “Mommy, how come you told me we were created by God, but Daddy said we come from monkeys?”  The mother smiled and said, “Well, dear, it’s really very simple.  I told you about my side of the family and your father told you about his.”  Sometimes things are not as plain as the nose on your face.  Even your nose is not so plain.

            In the gospel today it’s not very plain what Jesus is talking about either.  Is he talking about the temple, or is he talking about his body?  First Jesus says, “Destroy this temple and in three days I will raise it up.”  So, clearly he means the temple, right?  And that’s what the Jews thought.  But one verse later, it says, “But he was speaking about the temple of his body.”  Can you blame the Jews for being confused?  Actually, Jesus is talking about both, that is, he’s drawing a kind of correlation or connection between the temple and his own body, saying that his body is the “true temple.”  You see, that’s why Jesus took so much offense at the way the Jews were disregarding and desecrating the temple, because Jesus felt as if they were virtually disregarding and desecrating his own body.  Years later, St. Paul will make the similar connection for the Corinthians, when he writes: “Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit?” (1 Cor. 6:19).  In other words, God did indeed create our bodies (like that mother said) – we’re not just an upgraded version of monkeys! (like that father thought) – but even more, he created our bodies to be temples.  For Jesus, that connection between the body and the temple was as plain as the nose on your face, that is, the nose on your face is part of the temple of the Holy Spirit.

            You know, there are lots of things that are not so plain about our faith and our church and we have to think carefully so we don’t get confused like the Jews did.  Consider these humorous examples.  One day a little boy was feeling sick to his stomach in church and told his mom he didn’t feel well.  She said, “Go outside behind the bushes and throw up.”  The boy left but came back quicker than the mom expected.  She asked, “Are you feeling better?”  The boy smiled and said, “Yes, but I didn’t have to go all the way to the bushes.  There was a box by the door that said, ‘For the Sick’.”  By the way, that’s why the box by the door at our church says, “For the POOR”!  Church signs can be confusing!  One morning a husband and wife were in the kitchen discussing who should make the coffee.  The wife said, “The man should definitely make the coffee.  It says so in the Bible.”  The man asked, “Where in the world does the Bible say that??”  The woman opened the Bible and said, “Right here, see in HEBREWS.”  You’re welcome, ladies!  You see, often our faith requires a second look; it is not as plain as the nose on our face.

            Something else not so plain to people is this penitential season of Lent.  Why do Catholics make sacrifices, like giving up T.V. and Facebook, chocolate and soft drinks?  What’s the point of disciplining our wills by more prayer and penance and helping the poor?  Do we Catholics just enjoy pain and like making ourselves miserable?  No, not at all!  We do all this because our bodies are really temples!  And just like Jesus had to run the money-changers, and buyers and sellers, and doves and oxen and sheep and goats out of the Temple in Jerusalem, so we too must drive our selfish desires out of our bodies, out of these “flesh and blood sanctuaries of the Spirit.”  Lent is kind of like a “cord of discipline” to drive out laziness and greed, to get rid of gluttony and lust, to leave no room for pride and vanity.  Lent returns the body once again into a house of prayer and love, not a marketplace.  You see, every Lent we should feel what Jesus felt: “Zeal for your house consumes me!”

            A few years ago, I read a short book by Fr. Robert Barron called, “Heaven in Stone and Glass.”  He explained how the ancient gothic churches and cathedrals – a lot like the church you’re sitting in right now! – were built by people of deep faith.  Those Christians easily and effortlessly saw the harmony between their bodies and the churches they built; that one was a mirror reflection of the other.  Listen to this stirring passage.  Fr. Barron writes: “There’s a wonderful description of the construction of Chartres Cathedral that has come down to us from the twelfth century.  It says that people from all walks of life and social strata – lords, ladies, soldiers, and common workers – came together in the grueling task of transporting stones, wine, grain, and oil to the work site.  They labored side by side and in reverential silence – and all forgave their enemies.”  Wow, sounds just like our Spaghetti Supper a few weeks ago!  But that is a perfect snapshot of Lent: we sacrifice legitimate passions so we can serve other people; we drive out the meanness of the marketplace so we can give generously to the poor; and we forgive our persecutors so we can find true peace.  We do all this in and through our bodies, because our bodies are temples.  And, and by the way, for a Christian: that is as plain as the nose on your face.

            Praised be Jesus Christ!

Pretty in Green

Gratitude for our gifts

Genesis 37:3-4

              Israel loved Joseph best of all his sons, for he was the child of his old age; and he had made him a long tunic. When his brothers saw that their father loved him best of all his sons, they hated him so much that they would not even greet him.

            Today, we’re going to talk about two words, envy and jealousy.  Raise your hand if you think those two things are basically the same.  Don’t worry, lots of people think that, but they’re not.  Envy and jealousy are very different.  Jealousy is wanting something that someone else has and you don’t have it, but it stops there.  Envy goes further: it wants what someone else has, and thinks, “If I can’t have it, then neither should you!”  Let’s say your sister has a really pretty dress, and you wish you had that dress.  That’s’ just jealousy.  But let’s say you feel that if you can’t have that dress, then neither should she.  So, one night you sneak into her room with a  pair of scissors and cut up her dress.  That’s envy!  Envy is so bad, it even makes you change colors.  We say “a person is green with envy.”  No one looks pretty when they are green.

             Now let’s see if you can tell the difference between jealousy and envy in the Bible.  In Genesis, Jacob has 12 sons, and his youngest one was Joseph.  Do you know who was Jacob’s favorite son?  It was Joseph.  And do you remember the special gift that Jacob made for Joseph?  It was a coat of many colors, but it was NOT a “Technicolor” coat!  Now, how did Joseph’s brothers feel about Joseph and his coat?  Did they feel jealousy or envy?  Raise your hand if you think they felt jealousy.  Raise your hand if you think they felt envy.  Raise your hand if you think they felt BOTH!  It was both.  Most of the brothers felt envy because if they couldn’t have the coat, then neither should Joseph, and they wanted to kill him.  They were green with envy, and looked very ugly.  But not Reuben, he felt jealous but he didn’t want to hurt Joseph.  (By the way, that’s why that really delicious sandwich is named for Reuben, the “Reuben Sandwich.”)  Reuben knew that you don’t look pretty when you’re green.

            Boys and girls, do you know what is the antidote to the snake bite of envy and jealousy?  It is an attitude of gratitude.  Instead of worrying about what others have, worry about what you have.  Thank God for the great gifts he has given to you.  What are some of the blessings in your life?  We are blessed with good health: we can run and jump and play baseball!  We have food: fried catfish, spaghetti and cheesecake!  (No meat, today is Friday.)  We have friends and family who love us.  And most importantly, we have faith: we know God loves us, and every Sunday we can go to church and tell God we love him!

            God has given each of us special gifts and talents that he has not given to others.  Each of us has our own “coat of many colors,” so you don’t have to cut up your brother or sister’s coat!  And besides, you don’t look very pretty when you’re green.

            Praised be Jesus Christ!

Fine Diamonds

Appreciating our blessings

Matthew: 16: 29-31

           He said, ‘Then I beg you, father, send him to my father’s house, for I have five brothers, so that he may warn them, lest they too come to this place of torment.’ But Abraham replied, ‘They have Moses and the prophets. Let them listen to them.’ He said, ‘Oh no, father Abraham, but if someone from the dead goes to them, they will repent.’ Then Abraham said, ‘If they will not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded if someone should rise from the dead.’”

            Do you know what is the greatest pitfall of the priesthood?  It is not sexual scandals, or money laundering, or a lust for power.  These things are bad, of course, but there’s something even worse, namely, boredom.  We get to a point as priests where we just don’t care anymore; it simply becomes a job, a routine, and we put the priesthood on “autopilot.”  Have you ever attended a Mass where the priest was just going through the motions, more worried about saving his tee-time than about saving souls?  A priest in the seminary was telling us about this “spiritual ennui” when he said, “The day may come as a priest when you get to the end of the Mass and you ask yourself, ‘Did I actually consecrate the wine?’”  In other words, we’re so distracted at Mass, we don’t even recall the most sacred words we utter.  By the way, that’s why I always say those words of consecration slowly…and…deliberately.  Archbishop Fulton Sheen said, “A jeweler gets used to seeing fine diamonds.”  A priest gets used to the “fine diamonds” of grace and glory he handles every day.

            This ennui explains the perplexing parable in the gospel today.  A rich man dies and lands in a place of torment – most likely hell – and he begs father Abraham to send Lazarus to his brothers so they will shape up and not also end up in hell.  Abraham says, “let them listen to Moses and the other prophets.”  But the rich man insists that his brothers need something spectacular to make them change, like someone rising from the dead.  And Abraham says what Fulton Sheen said, “Jewelers get used to fine diamonds,” and so will your brothers.  In other words, they’ll get used to someone rising from the dead, and take that for granted, too.  And Abraham was right: how many Christians know Jesus has risen from the dead, but that doesn’t make them change their lives?   A Christian gets used to the “fine diamond” of the resurrection of Jesus.

            Today, ask yourself, “What are the fine diamonds in my life that I’m too used to seeing and no longer appreciate?”  Just like some priests, so some Catholics take the Mass for granted and just go through the motions of the Mass on autopilot.  Another fine diamond in your life is your spouse.  Remember how wildly you were in love while you were dating and newly married?  You couldn't stop talking or keep your hands off each other!  But slowly we get used to our spouse and take them for granted.  Some couples have trouble remembering the last time they said, “I love you,” like some priests have trouble remembering if they said the words of consecration over the wine.

            Instead, we should feel like Brad Paisley in his song, “The Mona Lisa.”  He sang, “Now there are men who make history, There are men who change the world, And there are men like me who simply find the right girl.  And in that very moment, it all becomes clear, What I’m meant to do, the reason I’m here.  Now, every night I thank the Lord I found you, And every time I put my arms around you…I feel like the frame that gets to hold the Mona Lisa, And I don’t care if that’s all I ever do.”  That's how every spouse should feel.

            Today, wrap your arms around the Mona Lisas and fine diamonds in your life.  Tell them how much you love them, and hug them tightly.  And may we never get to the end of Mass and wonder, “Did the priest actually consecrate the wine??”

            Praised be Jesus Christ!

Living Vicariously

Seeking the Father’s will

Matthew 20:20-23

Then the mother of the sons of Zebedee approached Jesus with her sons and did him homage, wishing to ask him for something. He said to her, “What do you wish?” She answered him, “Command that these two sons of mine sit, one at your right and the other at your left, in your kingdom.” Jesus said in reply, “You do not know what you are asking. Can you drink the chalice that I am going to drink?” They said to him, “We can.” He replied, “My chalice you will indeed drink, but to sit at my right and at my left, this is not mine to give but is for those for whom it has been prepared by my Father.”

             One of the perennial problems that parents face is trying to live “vicariously” through their children.  Now, maybe I have no business telling parents their business, since I don’t have any children of my own.  But you know, there are 6,000 people in Fort Smith who call me “Father,” so I’ll keep going!  Some parents live “vicariously” through their children’s lives; moms and dads feel that what their children get, somehow they get it, too!  And what their children don’t get, they don’t get!  How many horror stories are there of a dad who goes “postal” when his son strikes out in a little league baseball game, yelling and cursing at the umpire?  It’s almost as if the dad thinks it happened to him.  How many weddings are ruined by an overbearing mother of the bride because she couldn’t give her daughter the wedding that she never had?  I always wonder: “Whose wedding is this, anyway??”  Of course, parents immediately answer, “We’re doing all this for our children and their happiness!”  But I suspect there’s also a subtle selfish motivation below the surface.

             In the gospel today, we see another mother living vicariously through her sons.  The mother of James and John approaches Jesus and asks him to place her two boys in the seats of highest honor in the kingdom.  I’m sure if anyone had asked Mrs. Zebedee why she was making such a request, she’d answer, “It’s for my boys, of course!”  But don’t you think it was also a little bit for herself?  What her sons get, she also gets.  Jesus gentle corrects her, saying, “That’s not how this works. Those seats are reserved by my Father to assign as he pleases.”  In other words, Mrs. Zebedee, don’t live vicariously through your sons, but rather tell your boys to seek the place the Father has reserved for THEM.  They, too, have a special place, but it's not that one.  You see, God is the only Father who did not live vicariously through his Son – thinking his Son always deserved the best – but he let Jesus fulfill his mission by suffering and dying on the Cross.  The only way NOT to live vicariously through your children is to teach them to seek God’s will, rather than the will of their mother or father.

            You know, all parents want what’s best for their children.  My parents came half-way across the world to give their children the best in a new country.  Parents save and sacrifice to send their children to Catholic schools to give them the best education.  You give your children the best food, the best clothes, the best upbringing.  But are you sure you always know what’s best for them? Sometimes, maybe what’s best is for your son to strike out in the little league game so he'll learn how not be a sore loser.  Perhaps it’s best for your daughter to have a simple wedding, and not a wedding like William and Kate in Westminster Cathedral.  Maybe what's best is for your children is not to sit at Jesus' left and right in his kingdom.  Maybe what’s best is for your Son to die a shameful and humiliating death on the Cross.  Do you always know what's best for your children? 

             You see, the only way to stop that sinister selfishness of living vicariously through our children is to teach them to seek God’s will in their lives, and not their parents’ will.  Today, you try to do that with your kids, and I’ll try to do that with my 6,000 kids.

            Praised be Jesus Christ!

Go Climb a Mountain

Humbling ourselves

Matthew 23:6-12

Jesus spoke to the crowds and to his disciples, saying, “The scribes and the Pharisees have taken their seat on the chair of Moses. They love places of honor at banquets, seats of honor in synagogues, greetings in marketplaces, and the salutation ‘Rabbi.’ As for you, do not be called ‘Rabbi.’ You have but one teacher, and you are all brothers. Call no one on earth your father; you have but one Father in heaven. Do not be called ‘Master’; you have but one master, the Christ. The greatest among you must be your servant. Whoever exalts himself will be humbled; but whoever humbles himself will be exalted.”

                “Would you like to be a bishop?” was a question that someone once asked me.  I replied, “Heck no!”  I explained, “It’s a lot easier to be a shepherd to the sheep than a shepherd to the shepherds!”  I remember once asking my little nephew that same question once, and he gave the same answer, but for a different reason.  He said, “I don’t want to be a bishop.  I want to be the pope!”  I have a priest friend who has a different perspective.  He happily says, “I would love to be a bishop, but I want to be an “auxiliary bishop.”  Those guys get all the titles and perks, but don’t have any of the problems and headaches!”  Last year, you might remember that Pope Francis had a little advice for ambitious priests.  He said: “And in the Church there are ‘climbers,’ people driven by ambition.  But if you like climbing, go to the mountains and climb them; it is a lot healthier.”  That is, the Church has no room for ambitious priests.

                 One of my favorite Shakespearean soliloquies was delivered by Henry V, where the king disguises himself as a common solider, and speaks to his men to cheer them up before a big battle.  The king laments to himself: “What infinite hearts-ease must kings neglect,  that private men enjoy!  And what have kings that privates have not too, save ceremony, save general ceremony?  And what art thou, thou idle ceremony?”  In other words, all kings really enjoy is a bunch of pomp and circumstance, which is not worth much compared to the heartaches and headaches.  Sounds like Henry V would have liked to be an auxiliary bishop!

                In the gospel today, Jesus is telling his disciples that same thing: don’t pursue the pomp and circumstance if you want to be my follower.  He tells them to avoid the titles like “rabbi,” and “father” and “master,” and “auxiliary bishop”!  Instead, he urges: “The greatest among you must be your servant.  Whoever exalts himself will be humbled; but whoever humbles himself will be exalted.”  Isn’t that what Henry did in laying aside his royal robes and serving his men by cheering them up?  Henry humbled himself, and therefore he was exalted as the ideal king.

                 Did you know there is both “bad ambition” as well as “good ambition”?  So far, we’ve been talking about bad ambition, but St. Paul talks about good ambition in his first letter to the Corinthians, where he says, “Be ambitious for the greatest spiritual gifts.  But I shall show you a still more excellent way” (1 Cor. 12:31).  Do you know what comes next?  One of the greatest soliloquies in the whole Scriptures: St. Paul’s famous ode to love, where he writes, “Love is patient, love is kind, etc.”  In other words, we should have a healthy drive, ambition and enthusiasm, but that must all be directed properly: not to being auxiliary bishop or pope or to seek the flimsy fame of pomp and circumstance, but rather to humble service and heart-felt love.  You see, it’s because Pope Francis would rather NOT be pope or bishop that he’s just the right man for the job.  It’s because King Henry would rather remove his royal robes and cheer up his people that he was the ideal king.  He who humbles himself will be exalted.  And that is good ambition.

                Praised be Jesus Christ!

I Wish

Praying to our heavenly Father

Matthew 6:7-14

Jesus said to his disciples: “In praying, do not babble like the pagans, who think that they will be heard because of their many words. Do not be like them. Your Father knows what you need before you ask him. “This is how you are to pray: Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name, thy Kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread; and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us; and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.

            If you fortuitously found a genie in a bottle who offered you three wishes, what would you wish for?  In these scenarios people usually ask for loads of money or cars and houses or long life, or for the Razorbacks to win the national championship (because they put a big bet on them). But I want to burst out: “Ask for more wishes!”  Why can’t anyone figure that out??  Do you remember that 1960’s sit-com called, “I Dream of Jeannie”?  In the very first episode, an Air Force captain crashes on a deserted island and finds a bottle with a beautiful genie.  And do you know what he asks for?  He asks for a helicopter to come rescue him so he can go home.  Think about that for a minute: you are on a deserted island, with a beautiful genie who calls you “master,” and you ask for a helicopter.  Really??  If you were in that position, what would you wish for?  I would say, “More wishes!”

             In the gospel today Jesus helps us think about what we should request, not from a genie, but from God.  Jesus knows that sometimes we tend to look at God more like a “genie” than like a Father.  Jesus says, “Your Father knows what you need before you ask him.”  And that’s precisely the problem: when we pray, we’re really asking for what we “want” – what we wish for – instead of what we really need.  And when God answers “no” to our prayers, could that not mean that we really don’t “need” those things but they are really something we want or wish?  Every time God says “no” to a prayer it’s a painful but necessary reminder that we’re not dealing with a genie in heaven, but a Father in heaven.  And good fathers don’t give their kids everything they wish for.  Maybe what we “need” the most is to remember that God is our Father who will always take care of us, regardless of whether he says “yes” or “no” to our prayers.  That's our greatest need.  That’s why the Lord’s Prayer, the Our Father, is not a laundry list of our wishes.  We don't pray: "Our Father, who art in heaven, let me win the lottery today, let me never grow old, give me this day a skinny body, and lead me into more and more wishes.”

            Last Saturday, a very thoughtful young man named Trey asked me a question that all thoughtful people ponder sooner or later.  He asked, “Why did God create a world in which there is suffering and sin and pain?”  I replied, “Why do you think he did?”  Trey thought for a moment and said, “I guess so we would have freedom to choose between good and bad, and suffering is the consequences of our sinful choices.”  I said, “That’s a great answer!”  But I added, “It’s also because if there were a better world, wouldn’t God have created that one instead of this one?  And so if God, in all his wisdom and love, chose to create this world, we must already be living in the best possible world.”  In other words, there’s no need to wish for a better world in which there is no sin and suffering or pain, where we're all rich and beautiful and never die, because we’re already living in the best world God could have created.

            But here’s the catch: this world was created by a Father and not by a genie, who doesn’t want his children to be spoiled, but to be saints.  And in this world, if you find yourself on a deserted island with a gorgeous genie and a magic lamp, maybe you, too, should wish for a helicopter.

            Praised be Jesus Christ!