Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes - Homily for the Twenty-sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A

 

           We humans don’t like change. A 2015 McKinsey study shows that 70 percent of change programs in the workplace fail because of employee resistance and lack of support.[1] Another study points out that “while we usually accept that change leads to growth, we also resist change because it’s uncomfortable.”[2] Personal business coach Jim Earley sums it up nicely: “When forced to embrace change, 10 percent will respond like James Bond, 10 percent will respond like Moe Howard from the Three Stooges, and 80 percent will do nothing at all.”[3] Simply put, we don’t like change. But today’s Gospel calls us to change anyway because Christianity is all about, well, Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes. Let’s take a look at why.

           In today’s Gospel, Jesus emphasizes our need to change through the Parable of the Two Sons. He compares the first son, who initially refused to do his father’s bidding, to prostitutes and tax collectors. These “stereotypical sinners of Jesus’ day” don’t want to live according to God’s will but change their minds when they hear John the Baptist preaching.[4] The chief priests and the elders, on the other hand, are like the second son. They agree to work for God but don’t. “They talk about divine demands and ways but [don’t] live by them because [they’re] inconvenient and require them to change how they spend their time.”[5] Jesus’ simple point is this: those of us who repent and follow his ways will enter the Kingdom of Heaven, even if we come late to the game. In short, if we want to go to Heaven, we have to change.

           So what kind of change are we talking about here? Well it’s pretty extreme. Last week’s first reading from Isaiah tells us that our ways aren’t God’s ways, and God’s ways aren’t our ways (Isaiah 55:6-9). Well, our ways need to be God’s ways. Distorted by sin, our world is turned upside down. Jesus came to turn the world right side up. He came to help us change our lives completely. As disorienting and uncomfortable as it may be initially, changing our lives is for our own good. It leads us to eternal life.

 You see, Greek has two words for life: bios, physical, material life; and zoe, eternal life, God’s life. We humans were intended to live bios and zoe simultaneously and harmoniously, but sin interfered with that plan. So God sent his only Son not just to teach us, but to show us, through his perfect example, that it’s possible to live God’s eternal life right here in our physical, material world. Jesus came to divinize us—to return us to the likeness of God that was bestowed on humanity at Creation. In fact, we pray to be divinized at every Mass. You may notice the deacon praying softly as we add a drop of water to the wine to prepare the chalice for the Eucharist. Here’s what we pray: “By the mystery of this water and wine, may we come to share in the divinity of Christ, who humbled himself to share in our humanity.” We pray for zoe, we pray to live God’s perfect, eternal life right now.

 Unfortunately, we tend to cling to our familiar, comfortable bios, and shun, disregard, or even fear zoe. We don’t like change, but Christ demands nothing less from us than radical change. As C.S. Lewis explained it, “A [person] who changed from having Bios to having Zoe would have gone through as big a change as a statue which changed from being carved stone to being a real [person]. And that is precisely what Christianity is about.”[6] It’s about continuing the “sublime transaction of the Incarnation in which Christ said to [humanity], ‘You give me your humanity, I will give you my divinity. You give me your time, I will give you my eternity. You give me your bonds, I will give you my omnipotence. You give me your slavery, I will give you my all.’”[7]  Christ came not to just make us better people, but to make us fully human, God-like. It’s not like teaching a horse to jump higher and higher. It’s like showing a horse that it can actually fly.

 How do we get there? We follow the perfect role model identified in our second reading—Jesus Christ, “who humbled himself, becoming obedient to the point of death, death on a cross.” Change starts with humility, and Jesus is the best example. We follow Jesus’ humble example by acknowledging that we need to change. We accept Jesus’s invitation to change by identifying how our ways don’t measure up to God’s ways. We effectuate God’s plan to change the world by accepting that the changes we want to see in the world will only come about if we change ourselves first.

 Let’s face it, we live in trouble times where human life is threatened by abortion, violence, war, and euthanasia. If I want a better world, I have to accept that “the conversion of the world begins with me as I learn to be less reactive, less anger-prone, less ridiculing, less bigoted, less fearful. The conversion of the world begins when I ask God . . . to help me to deeply love everyone, even the difficult people in my life. The conversion of the world begins when I . . . forgive people who have harmed or hurt me. The conversion of the world starts when I . . . more deeply experience the dignity of every person, especially the most vulnerable, the poor and the troubled.”[8] When I change myself, others benefit as well, and our world begins to look a lot more like the Kingdom of God. We need to ask ourselves, then: Will I embrace Christ’s invitation to eternal life by exchanging my ways for God’s ways, or will I avoid it?

 You know, only one out of nine people will make lifestyle changes like diet and exercise even if they could prolong their life, restore their health, reverse diabetes, hypertension, and heart disease by doing so?[9] That means that only 11 percent of us choose life, and 89 percent choose death. I hope the same isn’t true of our spiritual lives. No, we don’t like change—it’s uncomfortable, scary, and some of Jesus’ teachings seem downright strange. But in the words of the celebrated philosopher, David Bowie, it’s time to “turn and face the strange.” It’s time to live as God intended us to live—full of life, bios and zoe. It’s time to live God’s Kingdom here and now. And just in case I haven’t firmly planted that worm in your ear, it all begins with Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes!

 Readings: Ezekiel 18: 25-28; Psalm 25; Philippians 2:1-11; Matthew 21:28-32

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[1] Boris Ewenstein, Wesley Smith, and Ashvin Sologar, “Changing Change Management,” McKinsey & Company, https://www.mckinsey.com/featured-insights/leadership/changing-change-management#.

[2] Lucas DeBoer, “Resistance to Change at Work Holds Back Automation,” Signavio Blog, (March 4, 2020), https://www.signavio.com/post/change-at-work/.

[3] Rich Becker, “If 80 Percent of People Won’t Change, Why Force Them?” Words. Concepts. Strategies, (September 25, 2020), http://www.richardrbecker.com/2014/03/if-80-percent-of-people-wont-change-why.html.

[4] Elizabeth M. Nagel, Elaine Park, and Mary Pat Healy, Workbook for Lectors, Gospel Readers, and Proclaimers of the Word: 2020, Year A (Chicago: Liturgical Training Publications, 2020), 256.

[5] Ibid.

[6] C. S. Lewis, Mere Christianity (San Francisco, HarperCollins Publishers, Inc, 2001), 159.

[7] Fulton J. Sheen, Go to Heaven (San Francisco, Ignatius Press, 1960), 184.

[8] Monsignor Charles Pope.

[9] Becker.

Infinite Wisdom - Homily for the Seventeenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A

 
          Frank was out to dinner with a few friends when an angel suddenly appeared before him and said, “I’ll grant you whichever of three wishes you choose: wisdom, beauty, or ten million dollars.” Without hesitation, Frank chose wisdom, and in a flash of light, he was immediately transformed before his friends’ eyes. But Frank just sat there staring at his pasta primavera, so one of his friends nudged him and said, “You have great wisdom. Say something!” Frank looked up, and with a sagely air replied, “I should have taken the money.” Somehow, I don’t think Frank got the same kind of wisdom that Solomon received from God in our first reading, because Frank displayed earthly wisdom, while God’s wisdom is infinite wisdom. Allow me to explain.

          We all love Solomon. While far from perfect, Solomon was the much-acclaimed King of the Israelites known for his long, prosperous reign, but especially for his great wisdom. Solomon’s practical, no-nonsense wisdom is the thing of legends – so much so that it’s alluded to in literature, movies, and even a few jokes, like this one: Two teens riding on a bus were fighting bitterly over the last available seat. Another passenger tried to intervene, but to no avail, so the bus driver, who was as wise as Solomon, shouted, “Let the ugly one take the seat!” The two teens stood for the rest of their journey.

          Why was Solomon so wise? Our first reading tells us. Solomon’s wisdom was a gift from God, it was a share in God’s infinite wisdom. Wisdom, of course, is one of the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit, which means, believe it or not, that we’re all capable of the same wisdom that Solomon had. Not everyone chooses to exercise that wisdom the way Solomon did, though, which is why Scripture, in several places, contrasts God’s wisdom with “the wisdom of this world.”

So what is wisdom? I think we can agree that wisdom is more than just knowledge. Knowledge is an accumulation of information, but wisdom results from the interplay of knowledge, experience, and good judgment. For example: knowledge is knowing that a tomato is a fruit; wisdom is knowing not to put a tomato in your fruit salad. Wisdom has a broader lens; it allows us to see a bigger picture; it gives us a sense of proportion; and it helps us make the right choices, especially in the most difficult situations. From the Judeo-Christian perspective, the gift of God’s infinite wisdom enables us to know God’s purpose and plan,[1] and to enact it here on earth.

As I mentioned earlier, we’ve all received God’s gift of wisdom, but it’s up to us to cultivate it and use it—wisely. How do we do cultivate it? I think there are three essential steps: humility, curiosity, and reflection. Let’s start with humility. “The first principle of biblical wisdom is that people should humble themselves before God in reverence and worship, obedient to His commands.”[2] We have to accept that God knows everything, and we don’t. As the bard so eloquently put it, “The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool,”[3] and in the words of our humble psalmist, “the revelation of your words sheds light, giving understanding to the simple.” By humbly emptying ourselves of the demands of our egos, we open ourselves to God; we listen for his voice, and we enkindle a desire to learn God’s ways. And that leads us to the second step in cultivating wisdom—curiosity.

 Socrates once said that “wonder is the beginning of wisdom.” Without curiosity, without that desire to grow in knowledge and experience, we’ll never be wise. As my former gym teacher, Mr. Rotella, used to say, “You gotta wanna.” To obtain wisdom, then, we need a thirst for knowledge and experience, and we need to seek out opportunities to learn more about God’s infinite wisdom. A great starting place, of course, is Scripture. Take the example from our Gospel of the merchant searching for fine pearls. He didn’t just stumble across the pearl of great price; he dedicated his life to finding it. We should all have such dedication in our search for God’s wisdom!

The Roman poet Horace had it right, though: “Wisdom is not wisdom when it is derived from books alone.” We find God’s wisdom in everyday life as well. Whether it’s in the patterns of nature, our own stories or the stories of the people we encounter, our daily work, or even in our suffering, we can find God’s infinite wisdom infused in every aspect of our lives. That’s the point of the parable of the person who finds the treasure buried in the field. Unlike the merchant, he didn’t go hunting for the treasure. He found it while going about his daily business. We can, too, if we’re curious and willing to put in the sweat equity to find that greatest treasure—God’s infinite wisdom.

Now that we’ve accumulated all of this knowledge and experience, what do we do with it? We reflect upon it. The key to cultivating wisdom, in my opinion, is taking the time to reflect upon all that we’ve learned, to discern God’s movements in our lives as we acquire knowledge and experience, and to consider how all of this learning leads us to God’s Kingdom. Wisdom requires understanding, and understanding requires putting the pieces of our knowledge and experience together, connecting the dots that lead us to God’s ways.  Too many of us, myself included, jump to respond quickly to the situations we face, and when we do that, we don’t always respond wisely. Jesus’ question in our Gospel, “’Do you understand these things?’ reinforces a point [also] made in the parable of the sower, namely, that disciples must ponder and study his teachings until they see how to put them into practice.”[4] Putting them into practice is exactly why God shared his infinite wisdom with us in the first place.

Wisdom is of no value to any of us if we don’t use it to build God’s Kingdom here on earth. Sure, knowledge and experience can help us find pleasure, wealth, and power, but those things come from earthly wisdom and do nothing to make our world more just, more peaceful, or more loving. We can’t waste our opportunities to us God’s wisdom wisely. Think about the 98-year-old Mother Superior who was surrounded by her sisters on her death bed. They tried to make her more comfortable by giving her some warm milk, but she refused it. So one of the sisters added a generous amount of Irish whiskey to it, and held it to Mother’s lips. Mother drank a little, then a little more, and before they knew it, she drank the whole glass. As she began to fade, one of the sisters desperately said, “Mother, before you die, please give us some wisdom.” Mother raised her head and said, “Don’t sell that cow!” Earthly wisdom, yes, but God’s infinite wisdom? I don’t think so. We need to use God’s wisdom to establish God’s Kingdom here and now. We need to use God’s infinite wisdom wisely.

 

Readings: 1 Kings 3: 5. 7-12; Psalm 119; Romans 8: 28-30; Matthew 13: 44-52

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[1] Catechism of the Catholic Church, Glossary.

[2] Ronald F. Youngblood, ed., Nelson’s New Illustrated Bible Dictionary (Nashville: Thomas Nelson Publishers, 1995), 1316.

[3] William Shakespeare, As You Like It, Act 5, scene 1.

[4] Elizabeth M. Nagel, Elaine Park, and Mary Pat Healy, Workbook for Lectors, Gospel Readers, and Proclaimers of the Word:2020, Year A (Chicago: Liturgy Training Publications, 2019), 221.

A Missionary Discourse - Homily for the Thirteenth Sunday in Ordinary TIme, Year A

 A link to a video of the Mass where I preached this homily is included below.

          My father liked to walk, a lot, so we Meyers walked a lot.  Fortunately, I like to walk a lot, too.  One of my favorite things to do when I was in school in Washington was walking around the city to visit the many monuments and statues and learn something about historic figures whose stories have faded over time.  You can imagine, then, that I’ve been following the controversy over taking down statues pretty closely.  I’m not going to get into the politics or the emotions of all of that, but I do want to talk about an embedded narrative that emerged earlier this week that speaks directly to the message of today’s readings—our roles as Christ’s missionaries to the world.

         After statues of Saint Junipero Serra were toppled in San Francisco, Ventura, and Los Angeles, the bishops of California issued a strong letter condemning the actions as lacking the discernment of Serra’s entire contribution to history.  Bishop Robert Barron, auxiliary of Los Angeles, posted the letter on his social media sites and received many positive comments.  But there was also a notable number of comments that essentially said, “Making a statement is all fine and good, but what are you and the other bishops going to do about it?”[1]  Bishop Barron quickly responded on Twitter, “That’s the laity’s job.  You are meant to sanctify the public space. . . .  Vatican II taught that the secular arena belongs to the laity.”[2]  What does he mean by that?

         Whether clergy or laity, we’re all baptized priests, prophets, and kings (or queens, if you prefer).  As Saint Paul tells us in our second reading, we die with Christ in baptism so that we may also live with him in the newness of his life—his life as priest, prophet, and king.  So in baptism, we’re given three jobs to do for the rest of our lives—we’re called to sanctify, to teach, and to govern, respectively the jobs of priests, prophets and kings.  “Baptism is a life-changing event.”[3]

While both clergy and laity are priests, prophets, and kings, we exercise our roles in different ways and largely in different realms—the clergy predominantly in the Church, and the laity predominantly in the world.  Lumen Gentium, the Dogmatic Constitution of the Church, is very clear on this point.  I quote:

What specifically characterizes the laity is their secular nature.  It is true that those in holy orders can at times be engaged in secular activities, and even have a secular profession. But they are by reason of their particular vocation especially and professedly ordained to the sacred ministry. . . .  But the laity, by their very vocation, seek the kingdom of God by engaging in temporal affairs and by ordering them according to the plan of God. They live in the world, that is in each and in all of the secular professions and occupations.  They live in the ordinary circumstances of family and social life, from which the very web of their existence is woven.  They are called there by God that by exercising their proper function and led by the spirit of the Gospel they may work for the sanctification of the world from within as a leaven.[4]

While the responsibilities of clergy and laity overlap, the laity’s primary responsibility is carrying the Good News of Jesus Christ into the world.  You are Christ’s missionaries to the world! You are called, as our Psalm so beautifully puts it, to “Forever sing the goodness of the Lord” out in the streets.  How do we do this?  Let’s look at our readings.

         Today’s Gospel is our third and final installment from Matthew Chapter 10, known as the Missionary Discourse, where Jesus instructs the disciples before sending them out into the world to proclaim the Good News.  In today’s passage, Jesus explains the conditions and rewards of discipleship, and, together with our other readings, gives us insight into what it takes to be Christ’s missionaries to the world. “This reading is one of our many reminders that Christianity is much more than an armchair activity or a prie-dieu proposition.”[5]  Jesus explains that the life of the missionary involves grand gestures, like taking up a cross—suffering, and rejection—but it also involves simple acts of kindness, like receiving and welcoming the stranger and giving a cup of cold water to the little ones.  We see a great example of this in our first reading.  Sure, we all know that Elisha is a missionary of God, but what about the Shunammite woman?  She is too.  She welcomes the prophet, gives him food and drink, and even builds a room for him so he’ll always have a comfortable place to rest as he continues his mission.

         Being missionaries of Christ isn’t a matter of claiming turf or competing for airtime.  It’s a cooperative effort where all of the people of God use our respective talents and varied walks of life to order and sanctify the world by living and proclaiming the Gospel in our daily lives. Whether we’re doctors, lawyers, teachers, students, scientists, engineers, stay-at-home parents, first responders, military, priests, or even deacons, we all have a role to play as missionaries of Christ.  At times, we’ll be called to take on big, pressing issues—we seem to have no shortage of them these days.  But we can never forget, that even the smallest considerate gesture offers eternal reward[6] and may well be the very first step in tackling those big, pressing issues.

         I like to walk a lot, and I especially like to walk early in the morning while praying the rosary.  This past week, I walked along River Road in Franklin Township, and over a 4-day period, I passed maybe 40 people in total, two of whom were parishioners, the rest strangers, walking, jogging, or biking.  Thirty-eight out of 40 of them, 95 percent, greeted me as we passed each other.  You’ll be happy to know that both parishioners greeted me.  Otherwise, they’d be the subject of a very different homily. Some of the people said good morning to me; some waved; one flashed me the peace sign; and two asked me to pray for them.  I don’t know if it was my debonair good looks, my alluring personality, or the rosary clenched in my hand that caught their eyes, but I do know that they were Christ’s missionaries to the world who offered me a moment of spiritual communion and a glimpse of God’s Kingdom in their own unique ways.  They made my day and gave me great hope for humanity.  That’s the role of the missionary.

 Readings: 2 Kings 4:8-11, 14-16a; Psalm 89; Romans 6:3-4. 8-11; Matthew 10:37-42

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[1] Robert Barron, “Why ‘What Are the Bishops Doing About It?’ Is the Wrong Question,” Word on Fire, June 24, 2020, https://www.wordonfire.org/resources/article/why-what-are-the-bishops-doing-about-it-is-the-wrong-question/27757/.

[2] Robert Barron, Twitter, June 22, 2020.

[3] Elizabeth M. Nagel, Elaine Park, Mary Pat Healy, Workbook for Lectors, Gospel Readers, and Proclaimers of the Word, 2020, Year A (Chicago, Liturgy Training Publications, 2019), 204.

[4] The Second Vatican Council, “The Dogmatic Constitution of the Church – Lumen gentium,” Vatican City (November 21, 1964), https://www.vatican.va/archive/hist_councils/ii_vatican_council/documents/vat-ii_const_19641121_lumen-gentium_en.html, 31.

[5] Mary M. McGlone, “Love Makes Us Worthy,” National Catholic Reporter, vol. 56, no. 18 (June 12-25, 2020), 19.

[6] Nagle, Park, Healy, 206.