Homily for Sunday, 23 February 2014

7th Sunday in Ordinary Time 

Homily preached at St. Basil's Church, Toronto, ON, Canada  

Readings of the day: Leviticus 19:1-2, 17-18; Psalm 103:1-2, 3-4, 8, 10, 12-13; 1 Corinthians 3:16-23; Matthew 5:38-48 

If you were to identify a positive attribute about yourself, what would it be? Are you a person of deep faith; cheerful; generous; hard-working; intelligent; creative; artistic; an attentive listener; an articulate speaker, for example?

How, then, would you describe God? Perhaps our readings today can help us to answer this question. Does anyone remember the words used to describe God in today’s readings? We hear “holy” used to describe God in our first reading, from Leviticus. The Psalm includes “kind… merciful… gracious… slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love” among terms that describe God. Jesus says in our Gospel reading that God our “heavenly Father is perfect,” and he invites us to “be perfect” as our God is perfect.

But only one word is used in our readings today to describe both us and God. Does anyone remember what word this is? We and God, as well as “God’s temple” that we are according to Paul in our second reading, are holy. Now for the difficult question: What does it mean for both God and us to be holy?

Holiness is not primarily a description of actions we do but of who we are. We are holy‒ all of us have been created as holy by God‒ and, from our being holy, we are capable of doing actions in keeping with our holiness. Let me take this thought a step further: Based on our holiness with which God has created us, we have a responsibility to act in a manner that is holy.

There are two main ways to approach our responsibility to “be holy as “the LORD [our] God [is] holy” or any other responsibility: We can carry out our responsibility reluctantly, by doing the bare minimum for which we are responsible, or we can freely and creatively go beyond our minimal obligations.

In truth, we would not be gathered here to worship God were we not fundamentally holy. Likewise, the first hearers of Leviticus, of St. Paul’s First Letter to the Corinthians, and of Matthew’s Gospel had a sense of God’s and their own holiness and the responsibility‒ or covenant‒ to which their holiness called them. It would have been no surprise, then, for Leviticus to say, “You shall love your neighbour as yourself” or that Jesus would make this commandment, along with loving God, central to following him; to living as he lived; to living as holy people live.

Jesus takes for granted that we, God’s people, are holy, and he invites and challenges us in today’s Gospel reading to act more fully in keeping with our holiness.

And so “you have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.’” If someone is to be harmed or shamed in a dispute, at least have laws in place that lessen the harm or shame that can be caused another person legally. But Jesus says to us, “Do not resist an evildoer. But if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also.” In other words, do not harm or shame another person by our words and actions at all; the other person, even if she or he does evil or is disagreeable, is holy as we are all holy.

“You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbour and hate your enemy.’ But Jesus says to us, “Love your enemies.” If we have enemies at all, Jesus says, we are not yet conscious enough that the person we call “enemy”; the person we hate, fear, or shun; the person who holds different political views or a different vision of Church from us is as holy as we are all holy.

To recognize our own holiness is easy compared to recognizing the holiness of others. Yet Jesus calls us to this responsibility of our faith in him: to recognize the holiness of others, especially those we less immediately view as holy.

“This is too much to ask; too idealistic; impossible,” some said in Jesus’ time and some continue to say in our time. Jesus does not deny that love for enemy and for neighbour alike is difficult. This, I think, is part of what Jesus means by “go… the second mile… Give your cloak as well” as your coat. But if, on the one hand, we dismiss Jesus’ invitation to Christian responsibility to recognize others’ holiness as we do our own, or if we accept it only reluctantly, we are defeated already.

On the other hand, if we freely and creatively accept our responsibility, with the help of God’s grace, to love in a way that recognizes the holiness of all people, especially those whose holiness is not readily apparent, Jesus promises us that our joy will be greater than if we were to continue to live in a world of us versus the other; neighbour versus enemy.

The free and creative acceptance of our invitation from Jesus; our responsibility as Christians to recognize others’ and our own holiness is possible. I have seen this in action right here at St. Basil’s Church. When I was here at St. Basil’s as a children’s sacramental catechist and assisted with the Children’s Liturgy of the Word and RCIA, I was constantly inspired by ways in which you show that we are a people that is holy as God is holy. Children and adults alike would often relate to me the joy with which they serve other people.

Some of us minister to the sick. Others ensure that the homeless are fed and sheltered. Others lead devotional and prayer groups. Still others work in peer support or resolution of conflict, building peace in our parish; our schools; our workplaces; our community; our homes; our world. Many people here are engaged in a great variety of ministries; some less visibly and regularly, others more so.

We have it in us to “be holy” as God is “holy.” God has created every one of us as holy. With holiness comes responsibility, and with living our responsibility to recognize and to show forth God’s and our holiness in acts of service comes great joy. Jesus promises us this joy, and we are already living and active witnesses to Jesus’ promise.

Homily for Wednesday, 19 February 2014– Ferial

Wednesday of the 6th week in Ordinary Time

Readings of the day: James 1:19-27; Psalm 15:2-3a, 3ab-4ab, 5; Mark 8:22-26

Who among us began today by looking in a mirror? If you did, was your reaction to seeing your own reflection for the first time today something like, “Wow, there is the image and likeness of God”?! Perhaps your reaction was somewhat more modest: “I might look more like the image and likeness of God after I have had some breakfast and maybe a cup of coffee.”

Our first reading, from the Letter of James, reminds us that we are all created in the image and likeness of God. We can forget this, though, if we only hear the Word of God and do not act on it. Mere hearers and not doers of the Word become, as James says, like the one “who looks at [her or] his own face in a mirror and promptly forgets what [she or] he looked like.”

How, then, do we avoid forgetting that we are in the image and likeness of God? How do we become not only better hearers but doers of the Word of God?

St. Francis de Sales said that, when we pray and reflect on the Word of God, the best way to end our reflection is with a concrete resolution to do good based on the Scripture over which we have prayed.

What might our concrete resolutions to do good for another look like, based on today’s readings? Perhaps we might resolve to do a small “random act of kindness” for another. Perhaps we might make an extra effort to be kind to someone who is often troublesome to us or makes us angry. Perhaps we might try to listen better and more actively. Perhaps we might pray for another person who needs our prayers. We all could, without doubt, suggest many more resolutions based on today’s readings than I could alone.

If we resolve to do good and follow through on our resolutions that we make in prayer, we show that we are the living Word of God; the living image of God; that we are mindful that the Word of God is not only a collection of printed words and sentences in a book, but is alive in and shows forth to our world from within every one of us.

Homily for Sunday, 16 February 2014

6th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Readings of the day: Sirach 15:15-20; Psalm 119:1-2, 4-5, 17-18, 33-34; 1 Corinthians 2:6-10; Matthew 5:17-37

A “Peanuts” cartoon by Charles Schultz shows Charlie Brown waiting in front of a pretty girl in line at the school cafeteria. Charlie Brown asks the girl if she wants to go ahead of him in line. She politely says no. Charlie confides in her: “I’m always sort of nervous around pretty girls.”

The girl responds, “But you must never feel that way. Pretty girls are human, too,” to which Charlie, astounded, exclaims, “You are?!”

Yes, of course, pretty girls are human. All of us are human. But what does it mean to be most fully human? Our readings today speak to us about what it means to be most fully human.

How many of us are thinking or have thought: Yes, Jesus Christ is fully human as well as fully divine? The easy answer to how we are most fully human is to be most like Jesus Christ, but this answer still leaves us with further questions: How is Jesus most fully human, and how are we to emulate him if we, too, are to realize our humanity to its fullest?

Many of us may have heard this: To be human is to be both sacred and social.

Our readings presume that to be human is to be sacred; to be of God and for God. Sirach says in today’s first reading, “If you choose you can keep the commandments… If you trust in God, you too shall live.” Our Responsorial Psalm is a beautiful hymn of praise for God’s law: “Blessed are they who follow the law of the LORD.” St. Paul writes to the Corinthians about a mysterious “wisdom” of God that God has “revealed to us through the Spirit” because God loves us so deeply. Jesus does not “abolish the law or the prophets” that are for our good, but teaches us how “the law and the prophets” are to be interpreted in a way worthy of our sacredness as human beings.

God would not call us to obedience to and reverence for God’s law if we, as human beings, were not sacred; were not created by God; were not loved by God; were not created to love one another; were not created to be with God forever. And yet let us also remember that we are also social beings. If this were not true, God’s commandments and God’s wisdom would mean little to us. We, as human, are social; meant to live in community with one another and in communion with God.

Matthew’s Gospel, and especially the Sermon on the Mount from which our Gospel reading today is drawn, is particularly concerned with what strengthens community; the social aspect of being human. Jesus’ sayings that we hear today‒ “You have heard it said… but I say…”‒ would have resonated only if Jesus’ hearers already had (and have) a strong sense of community; of the human being as social.

To break God’s commandments or to teach that they are unimportant breaks down human community, and so Jesus reminds us that the commandments that God has given to us are to be preserved and obeyed in their integrity. But there is more to living in community than merely keeping commandments and laws to the letter.

In today’s Gospel reading, Jesus expands on and intensifies the laws of the Old Testament that are most beneficial to building human community; to our development toward the fullness of our humanity, both sacred and social. Why, though, would Jesus expand on and intensify those laws of which we hear today? Could he not have chosen to teach on less controversial subjects?

I think of what Jesus is doing as promoting moral, spiritual, and social exercise; an exercise of individual and social conscience. The Olympics in Sochi are just underway, for those of us who are interested, so perhaps it is appropriate to speak of exercise. Just as an Olympic athlete enters into competition with her or his natural talents, but trains often to the point of at least physical discomfort to improve upon these skills she or he already has, so Jesus asks us to exercise our natural human inclination to build strong community.

As sacred and social beings, we know innately the wisdom of God’s commandments and that they are for our good: “You shall not kill… You shall not commit adultery… Do not take a false oath.” But how many of us or of people we know, with full intent or not, make occasional exceptions to these laws or minimize their significance?

“You shall not kill.” But if I am extremely angry with another, is it not defensible to let slip a clever insult or curse, or not to forgive that person immediately, or not to communicate with that person for a time, or maybe to be passive-aggressive toward the person with whom we are angry? Surely these actions will not damage human community, will they? The truth is that they do, even if slowly.

“You shall not commit adultery.” This week, the Church in the U.S. has celebrated the Week of Marriage. Do we join in celebrating the dignity of marriage? How often have you and I seen marriage trivialized instead of revered in our society? How often are the pretty girl, or handsome guy, in the cafeteria line, in our social places, or at Mass; our wives or husbands or fiancé(e)s, or our children regarded as human beings to be loved and not things to be used? The former attitude builds human community; the latter destroys it.

“Do not take a false oath.” While this commandment’s meaning might seem obvious, how often have we made exceptions to speaking only the truth; to letting our “‘yes’ mean ‘yes’ and [our] ‘no’ mean ‘no’”?

In a strong human community as we are and of which I have the joy of being a part here at St. Kateri, we heed these and other commandments for the good of our community quite well, I say. But we all need the moral, spiritual, and social exercise that Jesus offers us. The continued strengthening of our human community depends on it. If we accept Jesus’ invitation to exercise, even occasionally to the point of discomfort, we will become more fully human; more like Christ himself.

Homily for Thursday, 13 February 2014– Ferial

Thursday of the 5th week in Ordinary Time

Readings of the day: 1 Kings 11:4-13; Psalm 106:3-4, 35-36, 37, 40; Mark 7:24-30

What does it mean for us to be a people favored by God? After all, we pray in our Responsorial Psalm: “Remember us, O Lord, as you favor your people.”

Jesus expands for us time and again what it means to be a people of God; a people favored by God. Our Gospel reading today follows disputes between Jesus and the crowds or the Jewish authorities over the interpretation and following of religious teachings: To what extent ought a good Jew to follow the many laws of their faith so that they might remain in God’s favor?

Yet this question misses Jesus’ point: Although a religion’s teachings are important to follow (please do not interpret what I am about to say otherwise), to be in God’s favour is not primarily about following these teachings to the letter, especially without understanding the reason for these teachings: the good of our relationship with God and with one another.

To show this, after the disputes with the crowds and religious authorities, Jesus goes to Tyre; into non-Jewish territory. There he drives the demon from the Syrophoenician woman’s daughter. That Jesus had even gone to be with the people of Tyre, let alone performed a miracle there, would have been scandalous to many Jews who consciously observed their faith. I can imagine the murmurs of many Jews of Jesus’ time: “Why is Jesus going to Tyre? Those people are not God’s chosen people; We are. How dare Jesus associate with them!”

Sadly, this mentality continues to exist even among many Christians today: Those non-Catholics; those non-Christians; those atheists… They are not us. They are not favored by God. They are not God’s people. Is it right to associate with them? Can they be saved?

Not long ago, to the shock of many, Pope Francis said that yes, “even atheists”; certainly non-Christians whose hearts are with God can be saved.

That our hearts be with God is of primary significance. The Syrophoenician woman’s daughter is cleansed of a demon because the woman’s heart is with God, even more than perhaps anyone but God himself knows. In our first reading, Solomon is not reproved primarily for failing to follow religious teachings or for allowing his wives to worship other gods, although he does and this is clearly wrong. No, we hear that Solomon’s “heart was not entirely with the LORD, his God.” This is his greatest fault; his greatest impediment to favor with God.

May our hearts, then, be with our God. Let us pray that the same may be said of those who do not share our Christian faith but who will good and do good. As one people of God, then, may we be remembered, and may those who do not know or believe in God, together with all of us, be commended to God’s mercy. “Remember us, O Lord, as you favor your people.”