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September 29, 2007

26th Sunday in Ordinary Time - Property Rights

I have never been a landowner nor would I consider myself "landed gentry!" That may be a blessing in disguise. Actually, I have never had the desire to own land. I do, however, manage a small flower garden next to the front of the apartment where I live. The land belongs to the Archdiocese, but the Archbishop seems to have no quarrel with my planting some flowers on it each summer. They bring aesthetic beauty to the eye and offer me some opportunity for recreation in the summer evenings after dinner. The other priests and sisters who live at the apartments feel that our gardens make our little plots of land the show place of the West Side, which it truly is.

We have never claimed the plots for ourselves, actually, but we did purchase some hanging baskets last year that, unfortunately, were soon stolen. So, we little disturbed over the loss of those pieces of "land." This year we wired the pot wires to the wall hangers. No theft so far!

It has often occurred to me, however, that land or property, however small or large, seems to be a precious commodity and people will defend it against all odds. I'm sure you have often noticed signs reading: "No Trespassing, Keep Out, Private Property. I suspect that there is something sacred about land, at least one's own land. Perhaps it gives us a sense of place, a sense of stability, protection, ownership, an assurance that at least some small piece of dirt on this planet belongs to me and nobody else.

It is interesting, isn't it, that so many conflicts in the course of history have been over land and its ownership. Think about the "land-grabs" when the first settlers came to the Great Plains. Think about and that was taken from the Native people leaving them with no place to live and with little to support themselves. Think about the land disputes that have gone on in the Middle East since the times of the Patriarchs. Think about the border disputes between Arabs and Israelis today. There is no doubt that land seems to be a commodity that everyone covets.
I have always had this odd conviction that the earth actually does not belong to anyone privately. Land should belong to everyone in common. I know that will never fly in these days where there is so little public land and so little public space, but it's an interesting philosophical notion..

Some folks, however, do become a little disturbed when one wealthy individual or individuals owns immense pieces of land and others have none. Others also wonder why the necessity of "gated communities" where no one is allowed in without permission. They may not want to go there, but they feel they should at least have the right to do so if they wish. Land has a way of giving status to an individual.

Unfortunately, land or rather the ownership of land, also has a unique way of isolating us from one another, of keeping us separate. Ever notice the number of fences around peoples' yards? Obviously, not many folks will deliberately trespass, but just in case they do....

The two readings for our liturgy this Sunday speak eloquently about those who have land and possessions and those who do not.

Amos, the prophet who, by the way, was also a tenant farmer before becoming a prophet, has some hard things to say about the rich of his land who tax the poor. Not only that, he points out that because they can afford to eat the best food and drink choice wine they have become distracted from the plight of their neighbors who live around them. Actually, Amos does not criticize them for being rich. He simply points out what wealth can do for one's inner sense of justice or equality. "Some day," Amos says, "God will remember and you will get your due punishment."

Jesus picks up the same theme in his story about the rich man and Lazarus the poor man. It's one of those stories so rich in metaphors that you almost feel guilty reading it. The rich man eats and drinks sumptuously (that's a great word, isn't it?). Not only that, but he lives behind a fence either because he is embarrassed over his wealth or because he doesn't want outsiders actually noticing how he lives.

Lazarus, on the other hand, lies on the ground outside the fence, half naked, afflicted with open sores. Even street dogs try to make his plight less painful.

Again, like Amos, Jesus predicts that the rich man will receive his recompense some day for not noticing.

The question is, why are the rich in both cases destined for eternal punishment? Interestingly, not because they are rich, but because they seem not to care. Their riches make them oblivious to the suffering of others. So, perhaps one could say that the sin here is the sin of "myopia," the refusal to notice. There are simply too many other things that distract the rich man from noticing his neighbor.

Again, let us insist that the folks Amos was referring to and the rich man behind his gate were not evil people by choice. There were simply too many other things going on in their lives so that they found no time to pay attention to the lives of other people. It was as though they didn't exist.

I have recently been reading a book by Joseph Campbell the philosopher, now deceased who spent his life exploring world mythologies. The title of the book is Thou Art That. It's a phrase that comes from the ancient Sanskrit language. The question Campbell asks in the book is this: "How is it possible that suffering that is neither my own nor of my concern should immediately affect me as though it were my own, and with such force that it moves me to action? This is something really mysterious, something for which Reason can provide no explanation, and for which no basis can be found in practical experience."

The answer Campbell gives this: (I will paraphrase it) We are naturally affected. by the suffering of others because "we are they" (Thou Art That). The other person cannot be perceived simply as an other being, different from me but rather as a living creature. That person is part of myself.. My inner being actually exists in every living creature. That, says Campbell, is the basis for compassion, the sense that we naturally suffer with our neighbor.

I have often thought about that: When I see someone suffer, I cannot turn my back or pretend that it is not happening. It could be happening to me because I am part of that person.

Nonetheless, there are distractions in our lives, as we pointed out a moment ago: land, possessions, wealth, "toys" of all sorts. All these are simply external material things, of course, they do not last forever. What does last forever, however is the deep sense that we are all ultimately part of one another. We cannot turn our back on the neighbor. Our heart will not allow it. Even land itself will not protect us from the neighbor but it may have the power to make us notice.

The scriptures: Amos 6: 1, 4-7, 1 Timothy 6: 11-16, Luke 16: 19-31

Posted by Julie Galligan at 03:05 PM.

September 22, 2007

25th Sunday in Ordinary Time - Thinking The Way Big Business Thinks

As we all know from reading the papers last June, Pope Benedict XVI paid a visit to Brazil. This was his first trip as Pope to another country outside of Italy. It was also a different sort of visit than the visits Pope John Paul II used to take so often during his reign! John Paul usually wanted to visit with folks, find out about their country and kiss the earth on which they lived. Of course, he always had a few words of advice, encouragement, even criticism as well, but his visits were ordinarily cordial and pastoral.

In the instance of Pope Benedict's visit to Brazil, however, there was a different motive. Pope Benedict is alarmed at the number of Catholics who are leaving the Church of their heritage and migrating over to different sorts of Evangelical and Pentecostal communities. He is really alarmed because Brazil has more Catholics than practically any other country in South America. So, he is worried about the "leakage."

Of course, this religious migration has been going on for centuries. Most folks are not theologians; they have a tendency to react to their feelings rather than their intellect. If a particular religion does not seem to give them a sense of personal satisfaction, even "enjoyment," they move on to another. The ancient threat of sin for missing Mass does not hold much credibility in this modern age.

One thing for sure: Our ancient faith, doctrine and liturgy does not appeal much to the senses, to the emotions, to human feelings. Young people have been telling us that for years. Our faith is a "heady" faith; it has a high intellectual content. So, the leadership in the Catholic Church has always assumed that people will simply feel compelled to participate in the Church of their faith because it is obligatory, it is ancient, it is logical, Its doctrines go back to the Fathers of the Church; its liturgies come from those ancient little communities who were followers of Jesus. Jesus Christ founded our Catholic Church, so that should be reason enough for the ordinary Christian to feel compelled to participate in its rites and teachings.

Alas, it is not so. I'm sure most of us could offer numerous examples from our own families of individuals who simply are not attracted to the Catholic faith even though they were baptized into its faith and trained in its doctrines.
So, that is what is happening in Brazil. Most of the peasant population is not educated. Most of their training has come from the Gospel that they hear on Sunday or a catechist who visits their village.

Nonetheless, because of their cultural background, the Catholics of Brazil are very expressive, emotional, they love beauty, color, lively music, dancing, processions through the city, saints' feast days with celebrations afterward in the city square.

Of course, in most Catholic churches such celebrations are seldom seen. So, you can begin to understand why there is such "leakage" in the Church today. It's rites and doctrines do not appeal to the heart, to one's deepest feelings.

Is there any solution to this dilemma? Nothing simple, obviously, but there are some thoughts in our scriptures for this Sunday that might give us an incentive to look for a solution.

Both the first reading from the prophet Amos and the gospel of Luke describe what life is like in the world of business and competition. How does one get ahead? Well, not always honestly. Amos is tough on the people in the market who put their thumb on the scales or who can't wait for the Sabbath rest to be over so they can get back into the business of making money. Obviously, religion did not play much of a part in the religion or ethics of these marketers.

Jesus also describes what goes on in the business world of his day. He tells the story of a "middle manager" that has gotten himself into financial trouble. So, what does he do? Naturally, he makes a few "under the table" deals with creditors to put himself back in the black!

At this point Jesus says something strange. He does not absolve the manager of his misdeeds, but he does comment on the fact that there are not very many religious people who are as clever as this businessman. "Wouldn't it be nice", Jesus comments, "if other worldly folks, that is, religious people were as clever regarding their religious life as this worldly man is?" Wouldn't that be nice? In other words, Jesus conviction is that religious people are not nearly as concerned or as creative about their religious life as business people are about their business dealings.

So, what does all this have to do with the situation of the Church in Brazil we spoke of earlier or of churches in other places in the world?

I think it has to do with what the documents of the Second Vatican Council talked about, namely opening the Catholic Church and its rich faith to the world. In other words, it's a question of how the Church adapts its ancient faith to modern conditions. It is something we have not always done very well. Brazil and many other countries in the world are evidence of it. It is obvious to the Pope and to Vatican officials that the evangelical pastors are doing something right: They are gaining numbers. Ordinary folks are finding something in these religious rites that satisfies them. That worries the Pope, but he did not seem to have an answer to the problem of "leakage" from this ancient faith of ours. Of course, it is happening here in our country as well, especially among the young.

How does (or could) all this impact those of us who are within the fold of the Church? Obviously, many of us are happier with the Church today than we might have been before the Second Vatican Council. Without the Council, who knows how many of us would still continue to be faithful to our ancient rites?

Nonetheless, there are still countless ways the ordinary catholic can find excitement and satisfaction in this Church he or she loves. "Jumping ship" for a Pentecostal Church is not an answer for most Catholics who know something about their faith and love the ways we are free to express it.

So perhaps Jesus example regarding the clever businessman has a message for all of us. If you want to stay in business, get creative. If you love your Church, get creative. There's still a lot of life left in this ancient Church that millions of people have called home for centuries.

The scriptures: Amos 8: 4-7, 1 Timothy 2: 1-8, Luke 16: 1-13

Posted by Julie Galligan at 09:30 AM.

September 08, 2007

23rd Sunday in Ordinary Time - Into Great Silence

It has often occurred to me that not many Christians find it easy or even possible to follow Jesus and Jesus' way of life. True, many of us may call ourselves Christians and Catholics, followers of the Way of Jesus. But when one reflects on Jesus' life and at least some of his teachings, we may have to admit in all honesty that we probably could not live the sort of life that he lived and obey the demands that he outlined for his followers.

Many Christians of my acquaintance, even many Churches in the world, have softened or interpreted Jesus' teachings to the point where they feel comfortable living with their consciences despite what Jesus might have said

If you believe this is not true, take a closer look at the gospel for this Twenty Third Sunday in the Church's calendar. If those words don't scare us a bit, perhaps we need to rethink our commitment to Jesus' Way. Listen again to these quotes from the gospel we just proclaimed: "If anyone comes to me without turning his back on his father and mother, his wife and his children, his brothers and sisters, indeed his very self, he cannot be my follower." Do you know anyone who has ever done that? I don't. Or again: "Anyone who does not take up his cross and follow me cannot be my disciple." We all complain about our crosses, but we usually don't take them on voluntarily or without complaint. Or lastly: "None of you can be my disciple if he does not renounce all his possessions." That may be the toughest suggestion of all: Who's going to give up all his household stuff and follow Jesus? Not many folks I know.

My intuition tells me, therefore, that most people are convinced that they will be "saved" whether or not they follow these commands of Jesus. Perhaps they are not even humanly attainable for most Christians.

Well, possible or not, I recently saw a film on the life of some monks which convinces that at least some people in the world have done exactly what Jesus suggested, given everything up for his sake and his Way. I would like to suggest the viewing of this film for every serious Christian. It will make the gospel for today appear truly possible, if not for everyone, at least for many who take the Christian life seriously.
The title of the film is "Into Great Silence." Here is the background: Sixteen years ago a German film maker, Philip Groning, asked the abbot of the Carthusian monastery, La Grand Chartreuse, hidden in the French Alps if he could have permission to film the daily life of the monks. The Carthusians, of course, are the strictest religious order in the Catholic Church. They were founded by Saint Bruno in the 11th century. They are contemplatives by choice; they live alone in their cells, they rarely speak. They simply pray and work. The abbot told Philip Groning that he would get back to him later. Sixteen years later (life moves slowly in Carthusian monasteries) he did get back to him and told him that he could film life in the monastery.

So, that is what Mr. Groning did: He spent some 6 months quietly following the monks around their daily routine of prayer, work, meals and mostly silence. He did not intrude into their lives. He did not tell them how to act. He just quietly watched them with his camera.

The film is three hours long, but I promise you that you will be so entranced by it that it will seem less than an hour. There is no music in the film, no dialog, no voice over, no commentary, nothing to distract you from the utter silence of these men and their monastery.

What will strike you particularly about the film is the simplicity of the life of these men. They have literally given up everything for the sake of Christ. All they own are the clothes on their back, a few books and the cell where they live.

But you get the sense from watching the routine of their day that whatever they do they do with deep seriousness and dedication: The monk who carefully smoothes out wrinkles on a piece of cloth to be made into monk's habit; the monk who works intently at fixing the sole of his work shoe; the one who scrapes snow from a small fenced-in plot in order to plant an early garden; the one who rings the bell calling the monks to common prayer. Most of all, what strikes you as you watch this film is that these men are utterly serious about their prayer. Their mind and spirit are totally into it. Everything else in their lives has been put aside. They have literally left all things for the sake of Christ. But they seem happy over it; their lives are peaceful, dedicated. This is not simply routine activity although they do the same things day after day.
Most of all, though, what captivated me about the film was the silence. It was so quiet that you could hear a fly buzzing, a jet plane 5 miles above the earth, the sound of work shoes clumping along a wooden floor, the sound of a cart delivering food to the monks' cells. But there was none of the noise you ordinarily hear in most modern films: explosions, car chases, yelling and screaming, none of that. This was simply life going on at its own slow, deliberate pace in a monastery deep in the French Alps.

I have never visited a Carthusian monastery nor have I have ever personally observed the strict life of these followers of St. Bruno. But this film, Into Great Silence, convinced me that the life of these monks comes about as close to what Jesus suggested in this gospel today as anything I could ever imagine. I came away saying to myself: "Well, this way is obviously not something I could live with every day, year after year, but I am convinced that the call of Jesus for us to leave everything behind is indeed possible for some. Somebody is obviously doing it freely and with deep dedication.

But that still leaves us with the question: Is the contemplative life, at least in some form, something that the ordinary Christian could embrace? Are the words of Jesus about leaving every thing behind, including mothers and fathers-is that all possible for the ordinary person?

My sense is that God does not expect any more of us than our human body and human spirit can handle. If we make a sincere effort to live the Way of Jesus as best we can, I believe God must be satisfied with that.

One thing seems obvious: Jesus was an extraordinary person, a radically dedicated man. Scripture scholars who study the gospels claim that Jesus was truly serious when he suggested that the kingdom he preached was more important even than families and material goods.

The point, of course, is that we humans, Christians, live in a world where we are dependent on material things, human relationships, et cetera. But that does not mean that we care any the less for the Christian life that Jesus suggests. Some can accept that way of life and live peacefully with it, others cannot. We do what we can.
Speaking for myself, at my age, I will probably not seek out a Carthusian monastery any time soon, even after having read this gospel. But it is nice to know that there are some monks at a charterhouse in France who have taught me something about silence, which, by the way I probably need more than anything else right now. Perhaps you do too.

The scriptures: Wisdom, 9: 13-18, Philemon 9: 10, 12-17, Luke 14: 25-33

Posted by Julie Galligan at 01:23 PM.

September 07, 2007

24th Sunday in Ordinary Time - Following One's Bliss

Our dear state of Alaska has seemingly suffered an extraordinary rash of political embarrassments in this current year. A number of politicians, public servants, have been accused and tried for graft, influence peddling, cheating, mail fraud or simply for malfeasance in office. All of this, of course, after having made grand promises to serve their electorate in honest fashion. It has come to the point where local folks have simply become so jaded that they have given up, if not on the democratic system, at least on the assumption that there are any honest politicians left whether in the state or the nation.

Of course, as we all know, such actions are not limited to he world of politics. Wall Street brokers and big business people in general are consistently discovered defrauding those who invest in their companies.

Sad to say, church leaders, pastors and finance officers even "money counters" have been discovered draining the bank accounts of their churches!

Ah, you will say, so what? It's been going on ever since the discovery of money as a mode of human exchange. People feel the need to get rich and the quicker the better. Whatever secret method seems safe from detection is the one that will be used.

The question, of course, is this: Is it all about money or the hunger for money? Folks who are caught in these actions would seldom publicly admit that they are greedy; "crook" is not a word they would be willing to apply to themselves. Such an admission would be worse than the act of fraud itself.

Moreover, truth be told, many leaders, whether in politics, business or (horrors) even in ecclesial circles already have sufficient resources in order to live well, even extravagantly. So, why take such a risk with one's personal reputation and character?

I came upon a possible insight while reading a book recently by Joseph Campbell (now deceased) entitled The Power of Myth. Many will remember him from his conversations some years ago on National Public Radio with Bill Moyers. Campbell was undoubtedly one of the most learned men of our age. He made it his life's work to discover in the myths and stories in human history the reasons for peoples' actions. He chooses a word that is rather fascinating. He says that people, no matter how intelligent they are or what level of education they have reached, will consistently follow their bliss, which he defines as perfect untroubled happiness or a state of spiritual joy. Christians, of course, often use that word when they wish to refer to eternal salvation or heaven. "Heaven is eternal bliss," we say.

Referring back then to leaders in politics, business or even religion, one might say that such people are simply following their bliss: Money, influence or power is what gives them happiness, a reason for living.

Most of us "ordinary" folks, of course, would say that this is a highly misguided way of life. There must be higher motives for living "the good life," things of the spirit, intellectual pursuits.

Nonetheless, we need to say that all of us pursue our bliss and this bliss is not always of the highest order in life. We are not "crooks" obviously, but we will often settle for human rewards that turn out to be less than fulfilling. It is often after much deep thought and reflection that we truly discover where our true bliss is. All of these scattered thoughts are found, I believe, in the two scriptures assigned to this Sunday in the Church year.

The selection from the Book of Exodus tells the famous story of The Golden Calf (or bull) which the Israelites fashioned for themselves, imaging that their worship of this god would give them power and control over the lands of their neighbors. That would be true bliss. Moses, obviously, would have none of this. The story has it that he smashed the golden calf to bits. (no one knows what happened the gold!). "God has already given you land," Moses says. "You don't need to sacrifice to idols. Your God will be your bliss.

The story of the prodigal son which you just heard in the gospel has a similar thread running through it, the search for one's bliss, one's happiness and discovering that riches and freedom without responsibility are not ultimately very satisfying.

It is interesting to notice too that the son who decided to search for his bliss was the younger son. Why the younger? My hunch is that Jesus is saying that the "wisdom" of the young often seems trustworthy to them but ultimately it turns out to be shallow and unfulfilling. It is only age, disappointment and deeper reflection that bring true wisdom and true bliss.

Most of us, I should imagine, can remember the histories of our younger lives (or even middle age!) and looking back we may need to say that we made some serious errors in judgment, even conscience. But we were looking for happiness, were we not?

Nonetheless, if we are sensible, we will be prepared to rethink our motives, perhaps many times, for whatever it is that we do in life. Sometimes it takes a long time, indeed, even a lifetime to discover what is truly of value, truly worthwhile, worth preserving.

Ultimately, I imagine we need to say too that it is happiness that we all seek. Unfortunately, happiness often takes on. peculiar shapes. But there will be hope for all of us if we are willing to admit that our bliss today may appear different tomorrow. Like the younger son in the story, it often takes a long time and lots of patience for us to grow into full stature.

The scriptures: Exodus 32: 7-11, 13-14, I Timothy 1: 12-17, Luke 15: 1-32

Posted by Julie Galligan at 01:10 PM.

September 01, 2007

22nd Sunday in Ordinary Time - Knowing Our Place

I imagine most of us have some recollection about what our living/dining room looked like when we were young. For instance, I can remember that our dining room table was square and that it could accommodate 3 persons on each side. In our family that meant 8 kids, 2 adults (mom and dad) and room for two guests. Dad always sat in the same place. He needed a little room to read the paper (often for the third time; it was only a weekly paper). Mom always sat in the place closest to the stove so she could easily reach over and serve more potatoes or corn, whatever.

There was always a lot of "family business" carried on at mealtime: "Did you do your chores?" "Did you do your homework" "What happened to the wrench I gave to somebody to fix the bicycle?" "No, you can't use the car to go to town."

One thing that still fascinates me, however, is that there was no order of seating (except for mom and dad) at table. Whoever got to a place first could claim it. No hierarchy among the kids. Some of us, of course, would always want to be near the door so we could make a fast exit after the meal was over. It never occurred to any of us that one of us was more important than the other and might deserve to sit in a more influential place.

However, when you observe the etiquette of seating as it is practiced in the world outside the home you have a completely different picture. Where you sit or are seated tells you a lot about yourself, whether you are considered powerful, influential, rich, important or not so important.

Consider, for instance how President Bush's cabinet is seated. The Vice President, The Secretary of State, the Secretary of Defense, the Secretary of Labor, the Secretary of the Interior, the Secretary of Commerce et cetera. Notice who sits closest to the President! The ones who make important decisions that affect the world.

I don't know much about international protocol, but I'm sure there is a lot of juggling that goes on at the United Nations about who sits where.

When one begins to examine all that protocol or whatever it's called, one has to admit that in the grand scheme of things, it should not make a lot of difference how or where a person sits in public. No matter how high in the hierarchical ladder one is, we are all simply ordinary human beings. Where you sit has little to do with your character or your person. Seating is just an artifice. It gives people a sense of where they fit in relation to others.

One thing that seating does not do, however, is to help us understand humility. I have a hunch that there is not much humility among the members of the United Nations or even the President's cabinet. All those folks are "power people." They wield influence and they protect it. Perhaps in private life they are indeed humble individuals, but in public they can't afford to act humble. It's not politically correct.

Even outside the world of politics and government, of course, humility is not a common attitude among most folks. Just think, for instance, how much emphasis there is in the entertainment world on honors: American Idol, Top Model, Survivor, Miss America, Miss World, Dancing with the Stars, et cetera. Americans don't think in terms of losers; it's winners that are considered important.

So, how would those readings on humility that we hear this Sunday...how would they affect the attitude and thinking, at least for those of us who take the scriptures seriously? We Christians, obviously. are little different in our attitudes than most other folks. We appreciate being first, being honored, being recognized like most others. And here comes Sirach, the author of the first reading, telling his students that they should conduct their affairs with humility, assuring them that the more humble they are the greater will they will be thought of by God. I wonder how that went down with Sirach's students? Not well, I suspect.

And then along comes Jesus, eating with Pharisees who were always held in high regard by the public...telling them they should seek the lowest place at table because it will demonstrate to everyone that they are truly humble individuals in the sincerest sense if the word. I wonder how that went down with men who usually expected to sit as close as possible to the one who hosted the dinner because it made them feel important. Not well, I suspect.

I think the point both Sirach and Jesus are making here, of course, is a natural one: Humility is not a common or normal human characteristic. Very few people make an effort to be noted for their humble attitude. It almost seems contrary to our deepest instincts. We might even be perceived as phonies if we practiced humility.

And yet, that is exactly what Sirach and Jesus both suggest. Humility is actually one of the more authentic virtues we should practice because, truth be known, we are all simply ordinary human individuals. We are "of the earth." That's what the word means, "humus ", of the earth. If one is humble, therefore, we are simply saying. "This is who I am. I don't consider myself higher than anyone else. I'm simply just one member of the human race like everyone else, nothing more, nothing less." That, it seems to me, is a more truthful attitude than imagining that one stands above the rest of one's neighbors.

Finally, it seems to me that even within the realm of politics and state affairs, humility is the safer choice. Think, for instance of the people whom we read. about in the papers so often who once held important positions in government, politics or even Church, but, for whatever reason, have been, demoted or dismissed. It must be an embarrassing thing to accept. So, perhaps Jesus is correct. If we are willing to accept the lowest place in life, the chance of falling to the bottom will not be as great. Are we ready for all that? I doubt it! Of course, Jesus was always saying things to question our assumptions about many things. Having heard what both Sirach and Jesus have to say about humility, it might be interesting to try it out some day. I'm sure most of our friends would be astonished if we did.

The scriptures: Sirach 3: 17-18, 20, 28, 29, Hebrews 12: 18-19, 22-24, Luke 14: 1, 7-14

Posted by Julie Galligan at 10:28 AM.