Solemnity of All Saints

Revelation 7: 2-4, 9-14; 1 John 3: 1-3; Matthew 5: 1-12a

The Communion of Saints is one of our hidden treasures. As a concept it reminds us that we are a family first and last. As a reality is tells us that we are children of God, not metaphorically or symbolically, but really and truly. This is powerful stuff: we are God's family. There are a lot of ways we could take this, and in our history we have taken it down some very dark roads. We did that because we weren't truly listening to what Jesus was telling us in the Beatitudes. He was not telling us how to be, but how we already are. He was our Brother telling his siblings the beauty he sees in every one of us. We are God's children! We are blessed! But these blessings are not ours alone: "Love your neighbor as yourself." We have been given these blessings to share. We are not an exclusive family, but one who welcomes everyone into its midst. That kind of family is truly a communion of saints.

Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Matthew 22: 34-40

The Great Commandment: love God, your neighbor and yourself. Sounds so simple. But look at the world we've created. Look at the Church we've created. We forget the key hidden ingredient: balance. We must balance these loves so that they become one harmonious way of being. How? How on earth are we supposed to do this? The example that's right in front of us: the Trinity. Father, Son, and Spirit, balanced as one harmonious God. That is our model. Yes, a tough act to emulate, but remember that it's the effort that matters most.

Twenty-ninth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Matthew 22: 15-21

Woe unto you Christians who demand simple answers from God. "Is it lawful to pay the census tax to Caesar or not?" Clear, straight-forward, yes or no, black and white. And what does our Brother say in reply: "Repay to Caesar what belongs to Caesar and to God what belongs to God." You can almost hear them saying, "So is that a yes?" And you can almost see Jesus shaking his head in disgust. He is telling us that life is infinitely more complex than yes or no; that love is gloriously more multi-faceted than black and white. But haven't I talked of the simplicity of love? YES! And once more we greet our beloved paradox: love is easy, yet impossible to define. We know in our heart what belongs to Caesar and what belongs to God, whether we are giving love or withholding it. But how do we get our brain to recognize the truth in our heart and soul? How do we live this truth in the world around us, with so many others refusing to recognize it? Now there are some interesting questions: difficult, complex, certainly not yes or no, nor black and white. In part, the answer is that we must remember that the Kingdom of God is more about effort than accomplishment. Our Father knows if we are really trying to repay what belongs to her. All that remains is for us to acknowledge this in ourselves and one another.

Twenty-eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Matthew 22: 1-14

Our bishops give us an interesting choice this day. We can stop with the king's hall filled with guests, bad and good alike. Or we can keep going to watch our benevolent king toss out the poor man who has arrived without his wedding garment. After all, "many are invited, but few are chosen." I wonder which option our priests will choose today? Which option would you choose? We all know which option is more pleasing. Surely none of us would be among the fools who actually reject the king's invitation. Of course we will be his guest. But will we remember the wedding garment? A little tougher question. No, we definitely don't want to keep going; stop at the easy line where we've all made it inside; let's not think about getting thrown out into the darkness. But wait, did the poor man get thrown out for not having the garment, or for remaining silent before his king? Does his silence come from fear, embarrassment, or guilt? Surely our benevolent king can tell. So the real question is this: do we have the courage to face our king bare naked, or do we want to stop at the easy part?

Twenty-seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time

Matthew 21: 33-43

We reap what we sow. When we focus on greed, our fruit is death. When we focus on charity, our fruit is love. The evidence of this simple truth is all around us in the world today. It's obviousness is overwhelming; so we have to find ways of hiding from it. We fight over economic and political ideology. We play chess games with real people as pawns. Anything to avoid the reality that we have badly abused the "vineyard" given to us by God, that we are producing sour fruit. Life has a way of humbling the proud, especially those who proclaim that they are too great to fall. God desires good fruit, and one way or another she will get it. Do we want to be his tenants or not?

Memorial of Saint Francis of Assisi

Luke 10: 17-24

"Blessed are the eyes that see what you see ... many prophets and kings desired to see what you see, but did not see it." As he took the hand of Sister Death, I imagine that Francis was greeted by Jesus with these words. He truly saw the the absolute glory of all creation. Francis saw the world, and most especially his brothers and sisters, through the eyes of God. What love and joy he must have seen! And yet he told us that he was nothing special; just one who paid attention when Jesus spoke. As much as we might want to disagree and place him on a pedestal, we must take Francis at his word. For he says that each of us can see through God's eyes if we choose to listen to Jesus. Francis' greatest desire is that we might all come to see one another as true brothers and sisters of our One Father, that Jesus will say to each of us: "Blessed are the eyes that see what you see."

Twenty-sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Matthew 21: 28-32

No one is beyond redemption. No one is beyond hope. Do not get caught up in the trappings of the here and now. They do not matter to our Eternal Father. What she desires is that we are swept away by the joy of Divine Love, a love of action, not words. Pious sayings in church mean nothing if they are not translated into deeds. We must live our faith as did our brother Jesus. But here's the best part: it's never too late to start, or even pick up where we left off. God doesn't care when we show up for work, just that we show up. Good news indeed!

Twenty-fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Matthew 20: 1-16a

God loves all her children. He offers eternal joy to saints and sinners alike. Why should we be upset at the idea of an empty hell? How is this unfair to us? We refuse to love as God loves. We demand that the wicked be punished, that the thoughtless be sent to bed without dessert. We are like the spoiled child who throws a tantrum because our lazy brothers and sisters are given the same toys and allowance, even though they failed to complete their chores. We should be grateful that our Divine Parent's love is not as conditional and unequal as our own. It is his love to give, so who are we to be envious simply because she is generous?

Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross

Numbers 21: 4b-9; Philippians 2: 6-11; John 3: 13-17

We see here a God who desires to be our lover, but we see ourselves as too lowly for such a prize. It is much easier to believe in a jealous king who would smite his queen for any complaint. Was God really the author of the Israelites misery? Or was it just easier for the weary spouse to blame her more powerful partner for not wiping away the bumps of the journey? How could God get us to see the seriousness of his desire for our love? Only through Jesus, in whom we see a God of humility. A God who comes to us as only a true lover can do, opens his arms wide, and sacrifices himself for our sake. "For God so loved the world ..." How can anyone deny these words? God is asking to be your lover. What will your answer be?

Twenty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time

Romans 13: 8-10

Love is the pinnacle of all things and the essence of Truth, not law. Law exists to support the love of God, not the other way around. If we love truly, we fulfill all that God wants of us. To love truly, we must love as God does, with hope and mercy. God sees beyond our masks and scars to who we truly are. That is the love we must aspire to.

Matthew 18: 15-20

"If he refuses to listen even to the church, then treat him as you would a Gentile or a tax collector." This is sometimes used as justification for excluding from the Church those whose beliefs and opinions stray outside the lines. But how did Jesus treat the Gentile or the tax collector? Did he not treat them with love and mercy, and even break bread with them? And who is "the church": the people of God or only its leaders? What should we make of our leaders when they ignore the Spirit's presence within the faithful? Are they not refusing to listen to the church? Which brother is the sinner and which the victim? Perhaps the point is to treat all with love and mercy, most especially the sinner. When Jesus speaks once again of binding and loosing, why should we not see it as a call to judge and love as God does, not as we might do. For if Jesus is truly present wherever two or three are gathered in his name, then he is present even when we gather with those Catholics with whom we disagree.