October 12, 2008

Twenty Eighty Sunday in Ordinary Time - RSVP

I have to admit that I have seldom been invited to any large public banquet in my life, like at the Whitehouse for instance. Of course, I’ve been invited to a lot of smaller banquets: Wedding banquets and post-baptismal banquets, and such and I loved them; they were always a lot of fun. Everybody was just enjoying the heck out of the occasion, kids running around, people giving toasts, et cetera.

But I also need to confess that I was once invited to a special banquet that I will never forget. Not at the White House, of course.

One day several years ago, Archbishop Schwietz, Archbishop of Anchorage, walks into my office and says: “Clem, we’re heading to Chicago!” “How come” I say?” He says, “Well, the Catholic Church Extension Society in Chicago (an old and well-known missionary support group) has decided to honor you with the prestigious missionary award, The Lumen Christi. So, I say again, “Wow, how come? I’m just a little guy in this big church?” And he says, “Listen, anybody who dedicates his retirement years to ministering to Catholics out in the bush, risking his life, flying around to little villages to bring the sacraments to people, is worth some recognition, don’t you think?” I say, “Well, I guess. When do we head down?” “End of September” he says. “Get your suit pressed and your shoes polished.” “Ok,” I say, “let’s do it.”

But let me pose this question: What would the Archbishop have said if I’d replied: “Well, you know, it’s really not that important to me. Besides, I’m sort of busy right now and I’m not really all that interested.” I’m sure the bishop would have said to me. “Clem, we’re going; this award is important to all the folks in the archdiocese and to me.”

Actually, I’m sure I would never have said, “I’m not interested.” That would have been an insult to
him and to the whole Archdiocese.

So, we go to Chicago and I get this nice award along with a banquet to which some Chicago church “notables” are in attendance, like 2 bishops and one cardinal. The wine is good and the dessert better. Of course, the Cardinal Archbishop said some nice things about me that I thought were a little bit exaggerated. But anyway, I was very gracious and thankful for the entire event.

So, the Archbishop and I come home with this nice piece of Waterford crystal that I put on my desk and everybody asks, “Hey, what’s that for?” And I say, “Well, it was for some stuff I did over the years. So, I was invited to this banquet, and I went, that’s the whole story!

But it occurs to me, after reading the Gospel for this 28th Sunday in Ordinary Time and listening to Jesus’ stories about people being invited to a banquet and refusing, that perhaps there is something especially important about nature of banquets. First of all, if you are invited, the host must feel that you have done something pretty important. Your acceptance and presence lends prestige to the host himself.

Secondly, banquets are always more than simply a time for folks to get dressed up in their finery, sit with important people, drink good wine and eat lobster.

There are reasons for banquets and it’s usually the host’s opportunity to honor someone for an important accomplishment. Presidents of the United States do this all the time: They honor sports characters, jazz bandleaders, people of literary or scientific accomplishment, et cetera. So, the honoree, and the host him/herself receive recognition.

For many centuries, of course, we Christians have described the Mass as the celebration of a banquet. Lots of people who come to the banquet do not always dress appropriately, of course, the wine may not be of the highest quality and the bread is only a small morsel that does nothing to satisfy one’s physical appetite.

Nonetheless, it is a banquet. It comes from the night that Jesus himself sat with some close friends at a small banquet, ate bread, drank wine and told stories so that they could remember him after he had gone. “Do this in memory of me,” he said. We call it Eucharist; the Eucharistic Banquet that Jesus invites us to share with him each Lord’s Day.

Ordinarily, of course, many Catholics come to this banquet we call the Mass. Many more, of course, seldom “show up.” It does not seem to bother them that they have been personally invited to this special banquet and have not responded to the invitation: “Do this in memory of me”

I have often thought that we might wish to discontinue using the word Mass to describe the Eucharist. Wouldn’t it sound more appropriate if we gave it the name: Sunday Eucharistic Banquet?

Nonetheless, whether the invited people prefer to come to the banquet or not, the invitation is always out there.

Perhaps, for many who do not attend the weekly banquet, Jesus is inviting them to remember him in some other way, in some other place. I’m sure Jesus is not offended, but we are the ones who are missing something important in not attending. Maybe we should just say “Lord, you know, I just couldn’t make it today, sorry about that. No offense meant.” How about if I see you next week, ok?” I’m sure Jesus would say, “Hey, y’all have a lot of stuff to do. Come when you can; I’m always around, ok?

The scriptures: Isaiah 25: 6-10; Philippians 4: 12-14; Matthew 22: 1-14

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 03:20 PM.

October 05, 2008

Twenty Seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time - Getting the Message Across

George Carlin, the comedian, died a couple months ago. The history of his life was all over the newspapers and television. I had never actually listened to George’s routine. The word around was that his skits were a little “over the edge,” language-wise, so I decided I needed to listen to something that did not offend my sensibilities.

But as I read some of the stories on his life and his career, I discovered that, despite his language, he was a sincere and clever observer of life as we know it in the world. Many of his “one-liners” are still quoted today. Here are couple examples: “By and large language is tool for covering up the truth.” “Most people are not particularly good at anything.” “No one can be sure what a deserted area looks like.” “There ought to be at least one round state.” So, you get the idea.

George Carlin spent much of his adult life pointing out the absurdities of modern life and language. He was a master of what we call “the put-down.” In short, he used his speaking talents to get across a message to people, even those who did not particularly like the way he did it. In the end most folks had to admit that he had a point.

Language is one of those human tools that can have a long-lasting effect on our lives. The point, of course, is that “straight-forward” language seldom moves us to do anything. Take the daily news, for instance. It’s news and that is it. There is not much more that you can do with it. But humor, on the other hand, can make you think differently about life. The same is true of exaggeration or what Shakespeare called “damming with feint praise.” The point is that the hearers don’t always know that they are being criticized until they begin to think hard about it.

We have two examples of how two individuals used language to make a point without getting tomatoes thrown at them: One is Isaiah the prophet. The other is Jesus of Nazareth: Both tell stories with a hidden meaning that the listener is left to deal with when he “gets it.” In this case they are stories about a vineyard. “Let me sing you a song about a vineyard”, Isaiah says. And so he goes on to say that his friend cultivated the land, discarded the rocks, built a wine press and all the rest. The result? Nothing happened, the vineyard failed to produce.

Jesus tells a similar story of a man who planted a vineyard and left it out to renters, expecting lots of good wine at vintage time. What happens? The renters refuse to hand over the produce. So, the owner throws them out.

At first the hearers probably thought: “Well, hey, that’s a nice little story.” In fact, however, it wasn’t meant to be a story. It wasn’t a story about vineyards or winemaking at all. It was a critique of Israel’s way of life. Instead of making efforts to follow God’s law and be open to the needs of the people around them, they stuck their heads in the sand and paid no attention.

So, in both instances, the story tellers were using the “song of the vineyard” to say: “Folks, it’s all about you: You are the vineyard of the Lord of Hosts. God has an issue with you. You’re not producing. Get with it.”

We can see then that the best way to get a point of criticism across is to sneak it under the veil of a story or a song. People may not “get it” immediately, but once they do, they will know that they “have been had.” The implication will set in.

The implications for us today, of course, might be something like this: As Christians, how are we like a vineyard? Are we producing what Christians are expected to produce in this secular world around us? Does anybody really know that we Christians are still around? Are we serious about making a difference in the world? If not, perhaps the joke is on us. I just hope in our case it doesn’t take us too long to figure out the true meaning of the story.

The scriptures: Isaiah 5: 1-7; Philippians 4: 6-9; Matthew 21: 33-43

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 03:16 PM.

September 28, 2008

Twenty Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time - Life Isn’t fair

“Life’s not fair!” How often have we heard that phrase? Look back in your life, for instance, and try to remember the number of times you felt that you deserved better. Think of the times when you worked really hard at some project, hoping for a first place award. And what happens? Second place! Bummer! “You’ll never get me to compete in that project again,” we say. “I’m mad! My entry was obviously better than the first place winner!” Yes, perhaps it was, but you still didn’t win first place! Too bad!

This scenario happens all the time out there in that cruel old world. Who gets the Heisman Trophy? Who is ushered into the Baseball Hall of Fame? Who wins the women’s or men’s singles at Wimbleton? What college football team is named National Champion? Who receives the Nobel Peace Prize, or the prize for science or literature? Who receives the gold medal at the Olympics? Obviously, it is not always the person who is so sure that he or she might win. Life’s not fair! Or, maybe it just doesn’t seem fair.

Of course, we wouldn’t be human if we didn’t consider our talents or our work more prize-worthy than someone else’s. After all, who wants to be second in anything? Who will strive for the bronze medal at the China Olympics?
The question that often arises is this? Where was God in my second place award? Didn’t God have any idea how hard I worked on this project? If God is fair, where was the fairness in this?
Jesus brings up this question in the parable of the vineyard workers who were hired at various times of the day, some early, some late. The early birds obviously got their promised pay. What bothered them, of course, was that the last-hired individuals received the same pay as they did. “The owner wasn’t fair,” they said. “By rights we ought to get more.”
The point they did not seem to understand was that they actually did receive what they were promised. They were just a little jealous over the amount the last-hired received. “No fair”!
The lesson Jesus seems to be teaching here is that life doesn’t always seem fair, or at least not fair in the way we see it. Of course, we don’t always have control over life’s circumstances, so, why should we complain?
Obviously there is always some reason for the way life’s events happen. We may not know what it is, but there is a reason and usually someone else knows what that reason is.
My personal sense is that Jesus is comparing the vineyard owner to God. God is always fair in the way God deals with us. The problem (or the mystery) is that we do not know what’s behind the decision in question. Life is mysterious. Perhaps we should simply say, life is messy. No one is trying to hurt us. It’s just that we do not always understand the motivation behind decisions over which we have no control. The moment we try to compare ourselves to others, of course, we already have problems.
Perhaps then, the solution (if there is a solution) is that we should be thankful for what we get, whether it’s first, second or third place. We did our best and even that should be considered a reward. The ways of God are always just but they are not always comprehensible. So too in the world of human competition: Decisions do not always seem just to us, but I’m also pretty sure that God has nothing to do with that.

The scriptures: Isaiah 55: 6-9; Philippians 1: 20-24, 27; Matthew 20: 1-16

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 03:05 PM.

September 21, 2008

The Twenty Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time - Changing One’s Mind

Many of you may remember the fuss that was made during the last presidential campaign over “flip-flopping.” I believe it was John Kerry, the Democratic nominee, who it was said “flip-flopped” on important issues in order to protect his position. I’m sure the Republican nominee was also guilty of the same “sin,” but Kerry took most of the heat.

Interestingly, during this present campaign for the presidency, both candidates are saying: “Hey, it’s ok to ‘flip-flop,’ after all, it just means that you looked over the all the evidence on an issue and you have come to a deeper understanding of it, so, you change your mind. Isn’t that ok? So, this time, “flip-flopping is ok!

It occurs to me too that “flip-flopping” is a common phenomenon with most of us. It’s not that we are “wishy-washy” or that we just can’t make up our mind. It’s just that we have an open mind and are willing to change if that seems to be a rational choice.

Conditions of all sorts keep changing around us in all areas of life. Think, for instance, what would happen in the world of science or medicine if people in those fields were to continue using methods that were “modern” 25 years ago. They would be laughed at for their extreme conservative stance.

For that reason, then, it seems wise and prudent to examine a situation and make your judgment on the evidence you have for it here and now. After all, that’s how progress is made in any field of human endeavor.

Moving from politics to spirituality, it would seem that we have a similar situation. Jesus speaks to it in the gospel where he gives and example of two sons who were asked to head out for the vineyard and work for a day. One son immediately says “Sure” but never leaves his place in the shade. The second son says, “No, I’m not going out there in the hot son and pick grapes; pick ‘em yourself.” But then, reflecting on it, he says to himself: “Ah, why not? I don’t want to see my father out there by himself. Besides, I’m hale and hearty. I can do it.” So, he goes.

Then Jesus asks for a decision of the elders on which son did the honorable thing. “Obviously, the second son,” they say. Notice there is no criticism here over “flip-flopping.” The second son just reconsidered his earlier choice and headed out for the vineyard.

The moral here seems to be that it’s ok to change your mind if you find a more reasonable option. It may even be the more honorable thing to do.

It often seems to me that there is a certain maturation in one’s spiritual life, a changing of opinions. Most of us as young adults go through a period of alienation from anything religious. But there comes a point where we say to ourselves as adults: “This is crazy, this is nuts; why am I doing thus stuff? Why can’t I give God a chance and grow up?

And so it happens: All of us go through changes of spiritual maturity. Happily, most folks who work at it come through unscathed.

It is important, of course, that we do act like Christian adults, that we pray like Christian adults, that we make moral decisions like adults. Our earlier years are usually times of search, even experimentation. But age brings on new insights, new opportunities to act as adult Christians.

It is my own experience that the movement into responsible adulthood is a good feeling. We can look at the past and say: “Well, all that is behind me now.

It is also interesting to know that we may need to go through many more “flip-flops” during our adult spiritual life. All that means is that we are struggling to find that person who is not afraid to make mistakes and in the end to admit that life is messy but if we keep working on it, we won’t end up as a “flop.”

The scriptures: Isaiah 55:6-9; Philippians 1:20c-24, 27a; Matthew 20:1-16a

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 05:11 PM.

September 14, 2008

Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross

I’ve often heard it said that one should be able to tell what is going on in the mind of another person simply by looking into their face. There will be signs there to tell you whether that person is at peace or bothered by something, angry happy or sad. Just look and you will see. The face will tell you about the whole person. So, at breakfast, for instance, you will need to decide whether it is safe to talk about some philosophical theory of Nietzsche, Kant or Shopenhauer or whether you simply should stick with the latest standings of the Cubs or Sox.

The signs will be clear, in fact, signs are everywhere around us. Some are helpful, others confusing. For instance: I received a little book, a short while ago, from some friends entitled: Peculiar Signs. It’s hilarious. The editor of the book solicited photos of signs from people around the world, signs that made absolutely no sense, in fact, some would have steered you in the very opposite direction you may have wanted to go; they were obviously of no help to anybody.

By the way, if you are old enough, you probably will remember how we tried to read the Burma Shave signs as we drove along the highway. We may have eventually forgotten the words, but we still remember Burma Shave itself, the product.

One last example: Some years ago young, aggressive baseball players from Central America began showing up on teams in the Majors. Of course, they brought their own habits with them, and one was the traditional Sign of the Cross that they would trace on their foreheads when they stepped up to the plate. One day a sports reporter from the Chicago Sun Times asked Yogi Berra what he though about all that. And he replied, “Jeez, I don’t really know, but I can tell you one thing: Whatever its for, it does not seem to be improving their batting average very much.” So, what do you do if you have just made the Sign of the Cross and then you strike out?

But, of course, as we all know, Christians have been making the Sign of the Cross at certain important moments in their lives for thousands of years. My mother, for instance, when she was teaching me to drive as a teenager, would always get into the car and make the sign of the cross with the holy water she had brought with her. As you can imagine, that surely did not help my self-confidence very much.

But, as I think back even on this past year when I was still living in Alaska, I would never have thought of taking off in the airplane without tracing the cross on my forehead and saying a prayer. I did the same before landing. Of course, if I did something stupid on landing or take-off, I don’t think the Sign of the Cross in itself would have saved my life! So, the cross is not a magic savior. It is simply a sign of our trust in our God to give us the wisdom, the good sense, to do things correctly.

Well, given all that, it would be safe to say that the cross is the most identifiable sign we have that reminds us that we are Christians.

The tendency for us, of course, is to forget that the cross was once an instrument of torture during the time of the Roman Empire, perhaps something akin to the gallows today. There was nothing sacred about crosses in Jesus’ time. Every day, people were hung on crosses to warn others of the consequences of rebellion.

But it was the early Christians who rescued this instrument of torture, this sign of punishment, and turned it into a sign of salvation. Ever since then, we have been tracing this sign on our body to remind us that someone, namely, Jesus of Nazareth, died on a cross, took this burden on himself for our sake.

I think that this should remind us, then, to take special care when we sign ourselves. It is not the cross in itself that stands out as being important, but rather the Trinity to whom we pray as we sign ourselves.

Finally, I should think that it would be particularly important for us, we who are identified by the Cross and who say that the Cross is Our Only Hope, that we be publicly recognized by our devotion to this sign of our salvation because for us, like all Christians, the cross is truly our only hope. In the name of the Father and the Son and The Holy Spirit

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

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 09:52 AM.

September 07, 2008

Twenty Third Sunday in Ordinary Time - Problem Solving

Recently, I was watching an old re-run of The Godfather, the story of the Mafia clans and their feuds. After it was over, I thought to myself: Why all this violence? Could it actually be a trait of all humanity? Maybe it’s not just limited to the Mafia or even to Italians. (sorry!) Perhaps there is something deep in the human psyche that urges to get even.

It’s true, of course, gun battles between clans have always been a popular form of entertainment, whether on the big screen of on television. Why, for instance did The Sopranos run for so many months on TV? People seem to crave violence, as long as it does not affect them.

The more relevant question, of course is to ask why all this happens in real life: On the streets of South LA, the Bronx or even in large or small towns throughout our country?

Perhaps the answer lies in our personal histories. I have no doubt that many of us have the secret desire, at least occasionally, to get even with someone or to feel gratified if someone we do not like “gets his or hers.” I know from my own experience that I have been guilty of this many times.

It seems that we cannot stand to see someone get away clean and neat from some offense, whether to ourselves or to someone dear to us.

I am not enough of a psychologist to get to the bottom of this phenomenon but I know that it exists. I do no like to be insulted or to be taken advantage of. I will not bear that situation. Of course, any good psychologist could solve this problem, but he or she is not up here preaching!

The only biblical piece of evidence regarding interrelation disagreements is the curious little gospel piece from Matthew. Jesus, or the writer, takes on the role of religious social psychologist and tries to explain an easy way out of an argument between two men. (I am assuming that it was two men. I may be wrong: perhaps it is simply an example of two fictional characters representing all humankind)

At any rate, Jesus asks the question: What do you do if you feel that your brother has something against you? Well, obviously, you do not pick up the nearest sword or spear and go at it.

You address the person politely, as any intelligent and rational individual would do and explain your position.

If that does not work, then call in a couple of other people who can give you a more objective opinion; perhaps that may solve the problem.

If even that does not work, then bring in the representatives of the church. Surely, they should be able to handle it. After all that is part of their task.

However, if the church has no solution, then the only option seems to be that you should simply call the person a bad name, an outcast, a gentile or a tax collector. That should be the end of it!

What Jesus seems to be saying here is that there are certain disagreements that can’t be solved. Of course, whether calling a person a “bad name” solves anything is still a question.

It is interesting, by the way that some people do call in a minister or a priest, particularly to solve marriage problems. It has long been my sense, however, that, even with the best intentions, priests and ministers are not always able to find final solutions to such situations. Priests and ministers and even entire church groups often have their own problems with each other! How, then, can they assume to solve the problems of others?

The major problem when a difference as rise among individuals or groups is emotion, feelings: People’s feelings have been hurt, their hearts are broken. Hence, the only solution seems to lie in their personal decision to apologize to one another. Perhaps it comes down to the point where they must say to each other: “Listen, neither of us is completely guilty; we were simply not sensitive enough to each others feelings. If we can work out the money and the property problem, we’ll have it solved and we can go on appreciating each other again.

The point of all this is to say that outsiders seldom find final solutions for the problems of others unless their client is truly ill. What counselor, priest or minister truly knows what is going on in the heart of another person? Often they cannot even understand the reasons for their own angers and resentments.

Perhaps the best that can be said is that if individuals come to us for solutions, we must first offer them compassion and listen to them. Once people hear themselves say what angers them, then perhaps the problem is already half solved.

So, after all that, I still have questions about Jesus or Matthew’s solution for interpersonal differences. But, of course, I also have my own interpersonal problems to deal with. When I have solved that, perhaps I can take on the “gospel problem.”

The scriptures: Ezekiel 33: 7-9, Romans 13: 8-10, Matthew 18: 15-20

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 09:03 AM.

August 30, 2008

Twenty Second Sunday in Ordinary Time - Taking the Heat

Most folks in Chicago’s South Side remember vividly the events that occurred at the Church of St. Sabina this past summer. Father Michael Pfleger, pastor there for the past 30 years, incurred the wrath of some Chicago Catholics for remarks he made at a neighboring non-Catholic church regarding Hillary Clinton’s nomination for President. Events became so heated that Cardinal George decided to give Father Pfleger two weeks off for rest and reflection.

Several points must be noted, however. First, Michael Pfleger is white although people say he thinks and preaches like black pastor.

Moreover, he has worked hard to assist the Black community improve living conditions on this Southside area: He has made war on drug dealers, reported to the police liquor stores that made sales to minors; he has prevented gun skirmishes between gangs, fought discrimination and more. The Catholic population at St. Sabina has risen from several hundred to over two thousand during his pastorate. In short Michael Pfleger has been the salvation of those who live in the area of St. Sabina. He is, without a doubt a social and religious activist.

Some say, of course, that he is a “grandstander” one who seeks attention by preaching like Black pastors. Of course, his parishioners are predominately black. So, that tells a tale.

Michael Pfleger has received a great deal of hate mail and threatening phone calls over his style of pastoring and preaching. His response is that he has fought for justice and equality since the day, as a teenager, he heard Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. speak in Grant Park. That is when his mission for justice first began.

My feeling is that Father Pfleger, despite his particular style, is truly a prophet. He speaks prophetic words for which he often “takes the heat.” He’s ok with that.

The scriptures: Jeremiah 20:7-9; Romans 12:1-2; Matthew 16:21-27

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 01:58 PM.

August 24, 2008

Twenty First Sunday in Ordinary Time - Striking Resemblance

During a visit to my home in North Dakota last summer for the celebration of my 50th anniversary of ordination, our extended family gathered for a picnic where we discussed “old times.” Part of the afternoon was spent digging out photos and commenting on what we looked like in those days.

Fortunately, my dear sister had managed to find an early group photo of some grade school students all lined up on the steps of the school that all of us eventually attended. We looked closely at each youngster, trying to remember a name that would go with a face.

Suddenly, someone said, “Hey, Father Clem, here’s a picture of your dad and his two sisters.” And so it was! Someone else said: “You know, you still look just like your dad, same facial features and all.” I looked closely at it but I could not see any resemblance at all. Later, I took the photo home and looked at it more closely. Then I looked in the mirror and finally I said to myself: “By golly, there is a resemblance there.” Hmmm.

It does seem to me, of course, that people other than ourselves can often detect comparisons better than we can. Perhaps we should trust their judgment.

I can honestly say too that I still frequently find myself sing certain words and phrases that I remember my father using. I can almost hear his voice in mine. Astonishing!

Perhaps that tells us that the same genes run deeply in our families and our relationships.

That brings up two issues that appear (at least, for me) in the gospel for this Sunday. The first question: What did Jesus look like? Whom did he resemble? Surely no one like the Renaissance painters made him appear: Pale-skinned, well-trimmed beard, clean, white robe. No, I’m sure he must have resembled Arabic men we often see in photos from the Middle East today.

The other question is this: What was the public perception of Jesus in his time? Surely, he must have raised a lot of eyebrows. Jesus was the kind of person, after all, whom you could not simply disregard. He was different, he did and said prophetic things. Hence, some people probably thought of him as a rabble-rouser a disturber of the peace, a man who could make things difficult for his own people by inciting the anger of Rome. But some also might also have thought of him as a brilliant orator, a worker of signs, a compassionate healer?

Finally, Jesus’ curiosity got too much for him: He decided to ask his closest associates what they were hearing about him out there on the road. Some interesting answers surfaced: “Some people”, they said, “think you resemble John the Baptist, because you say some pretty hard things. You’re pretty tough on people. Others feel that you resemble Isaiah, Jeremiah or one of the great prophets of old. They too were political and religious critics.”

Then came a break in the conversation and Jesus finally asks the “insiders” what they think. After all, they have been with him for some time. Surely, they should have a deeper insight about Jesus than the crowds. Peter jumps in as usual and says. “Actually, Lord, I’m convinced that you are the Messiah, Son of the living God.” For that answer, Peter’s career was locked in. He was on his way to Rome!

Of course, that still leaves each of us with the question: What do we think of Jesus? We already know what the disciples thought. If we can truthfully answer that question for ourselves without being distracted by the various answers the world suggests, then we can be confident that we are truly living stones, part of the Rock who holds us all together. Now that’s a resemblance worth considering.

The scriptures: Isaiah 22: 15, 19-23; Romans 11: 33-26; Matthew 16: 13-20

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 09:05 AM.

August 17, 2008

Twentieth Sunday in Ordinary Time - Never Give Up!

We can say many wonderful things about the human spirit: We love, we are compassionate, we are sometimes angry, we sometimes cry out for joy or out of sadness, we defend righteousness, we defend those in whom we believe. Most of all, however, we never give up, even if we feel that our cause has no chance of success.

It all starts even when we are little children: “Ma, can I have another cookie?” No!” “Ma, I have to go to the bathroom!” “Go!” “Dad, may I have the car for the prom?” “I’ll think about it.” Mom, is this dress too risqué?” “Would you wear it to church?”

Think too about congressmen and women who speak endlessly in favor of some political issue? Do they always win their causes? Sometimes yes, mostly no, but does that keep them from pressing on? Not at all. Think about Hillary Clinton and her plea for universal health care! Issues, therefore, are often personally important to them; so, they seldom give up. The fact that they persisted through hours of debate tells you where their passions are

Then, of course, there are Christians, Catholics and many others as well, who pray to God for special religious or personal human causes: “Please, Lord, do not let my daughter die! “ “Please, Lord, give my brother the strength to stop drinking.” “Please, Lord, bring my kids home safely from the prom.”

Perhaps the daughter does die, but the kids do get home safely. The brother somehow does manage to muster the courage to get off the bottle.

In other words, it is easy to thank God when the outcome of our prayer is successful. The question to ask, of course, is this: What happens when a cause does not break our way?

It seems to me that most folks, whether or not they are people of faith, usually can cope with critical issues even though some turn out to be a disaster. Do they stop praying altogether? Not at all. The fact that they persisted with their cause, even in he midst of darkness, is itself an act of faith. If they had stopped pleading with their God, what would that have meant? It would have meant failure, of course, lack of trust in ones own cause.

This is the situation we find in the gospel for this forthcoming Sunday: A lady approaches Jesus to ask if he would (or could) heal her daughter who was mentally ill. First, let me suggest that this was one tough lady. She knew that Jews considered her, a Canaanite, socially second-class. Did that stop her from pleading her cause with Jesus, a Jew? Not at all, not even after Jesus suggested that his healings (like bread) were not meant to be thrown to the “dogs.” At this point, she shows how plucky she can be: “Listen here, sir,” she says, “even the dogs lap up he crumbs that fall under the table, right?”

“You win,” Jesus says; this is obviously a cause that is deeply important to you. How can I say no to a mother who loves her little girl?”

At that point, Jesus makes a peculiar remark: “Lady, you have great faith, your wish will come to pass.” Actually it did! But what sort of faith are we dealing with here? Supernatural faith? Faith in the God of Israel? Faith in Jesus, the Jew who had just insulted her? No, my sense is that Jesus is commending her because of her courage, her persistence, and her conviction regarding the cause of her child. I can just hear Jesus muttering to himself: “Wow, here’s a lady who won’t give up. It would be a shame if I did nothing for her. The fact that she is a woman and a Samaritan means nothing to me. It would be the height of racism if I refused her plea.

Given all this, I believe there may a lesson hidden in this story, namely, if we don’t have a cause to fight for and if we don’t truly believe in it, then don’t pray. That would be an insult to God. My hunch, however, is that most of us can’t bring ourselves to do that! We do have causes and we pray for them, even if the final outcome does not fall our way. Faith in God and in yourself will do that to you.

The scriptures: Isaiah 56 1 6-7; Romans 11: 13-15, 29-32; Matthew 15: 21-28

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 11:36 AM.

August 10, 2008

The 19th Sunday in Ordinary Time - Discovering Silence

In the year 1984, the German filmmaker, Philip Groning, sent a letter to the abbot of the Carthusian order at the Grand Chartreuse, deep in the French Alps. He asked if it might be possible for him to come to the monastery and film the daily course of their monastic schedule. He would not interfere with their personal lives; He just wanted to be among the monks to get a sense of what the life of silence and penance might look like to an outsider and why an individual might choose to practice it in such a severe form.

The abbot wrote to Mr. Groning and said that he would consult with his brother monks and get back to him. He did, indeed, get back to him but only after a lapse of 16 years! Of course, the life of Carthusian monks does not move very swiftly. They are not going anywhere soon.

Philip Groning was particularly interested in understanding what drew these men to monastic life and how they could withstand the long hours and days of work, prayer and silence.

He then lived with the monks for a year and totally immersed himself in the hush of monastic life during all its seasons. At year’s end, he returned to Germany and produced the award-winning film now entitled Into Great Silence.

It has since become so popular that folks of all religious persuasions are flocking to see it. Some even say that it is a kind of “personal retreat”, all three hours of it.

It has often occurred to me that monastic life has always attracted people. It’s not that most would personally choose to enter a monastery, but the very life itself seems so fascinating, so different, so challenging. Perhaps it is the silence itself that is a mystery to some.

Of all the many human gifts, speech and communication seem to be the ones that define us as human. Hence, to voluntarily give up all this seems a great mystery in itself. Why would anyone not want to talk?

It might also seem to some that silence is a penance or that that it is meant to help the monks pray “better.” But my sense is that practicing silence as a penance is defeating its very purpose.

Rather, it seems to me, silence may well help the individual pray, but that can only happen if one can first discover his inner being, his heart’s desire, his reason for living. When one comes to such a sense of peacefulness, then prayer is already happening.

It might also be said, of course, that the regimen of silence should not be limited to life in a monastery. However, I think some people have already found ways to pray right in the midst of the hustle and bustle of city life. Many have found a personal monastery in their cubicle at work or in the noise of a manufacturing plant.

I admit that a monastery deep in the Alps might provide a more conducive setting, but places of contemplation happen where they happen. It’s what we make of them that ultimately count.

I have watched the film several times and have always come away refreshed and chastened. Would I now immediately head off to a Carthusian monastery? Not a chance! But, experiencing silence from a recliner is probably the next best thing.

Readings: 1 Kings 9: 11-13; Romans 9: 1-5; Matthew 14: 22-33

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 03:25 PM.

August 02, 2008

The 18th Sunday in Ordinary Time - Free Lunch?

There are two old sayings most of us may remember: No Free Lunch and The Best Things in Life are Free. The modern world, of course, would insist that the former is true: If you can’t pay for it, you don’t get it! The idealists among us, on the other hand, would claim that there is enough of everything for everyone to have at least a small portion.

Other idealists would add that material things are not necessarily the most precious commodities in life. So, how do the ideal and the so-called real worlds deal with these questions?

People who deal in the money and commodities markets will tell you that you have to take care of yourself: Get a job, save up, don’t waste your money, don’t run up your credit card balance. No one is going to bail you out.

For the most part, that’s how it is in the world today: You have to take care of yourself; you can’t depend on your neighbor. He or she may be kind, but kindness only goes so far. There comes a time when even kindness itself runs out.

Yet, here we have Jesus insisting in Matthew’s gospel that even if someone has only a few loaves of bread and a couple fish and decides to make them go around, they will go around even for a large crowd of people. It is also interesting to note that Jesus did not do the distribution in this case. He put his disciples to work, and, of course there was enough to go around. That little bit of instruction tells us that if we want to be declared disciples of Jesus we have to make material things go around. No miracles in this instance!

The second question is this: What is truly precious in our life? What is worth saving up? Isaiah the prophet asks the question: “Why spend your money for what is not bread, your wages on what will not satisfy? Obviously, all of us appreciate a piece of bread for breakfast, a cinnamon roll with coffee. The better question is this: What could we describe as food for the mind, for the spirit? What will last, not just between breakfast and dinner, but rather what will give our total person the sustenance it needs between birth and death?

My sense is that it has to be something more than food for the stomach. I would suggest such things as silence, quietness, a comfortable place to sit and meditate, a book of poetry, a copy of the New Testament, some music in the background, a few moments in church on your way home from work, perhaps even an occasional visit to the museum or a night at the symphony. Obviously, these are not for free, but they will definitely satisfy our hunger for things of the spirit, the deep things in life, those that will finally give total satisfaction to the whole person.

Finally, one must still say that the best things in life are truly free if we can find a way to discern what they are; and when we do, we will never be hungry again.

The scriptures: Isaiah 55: 1-3, Romans 8: 35-37, Matthew 14: 13-31

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 12:39 PM.

July 26, 2008

Seventeenth Sunday in Ordinary Time - True Treasure

When I lived in Anchorage, Alaska, I could always tell when spring was near. It wasn’t the disappearance of the snow or the appearance of trash that had been lying beneath it all winter. Actually, it was not even the first sight of the tulips I had planted last September. The first clue I would notice was always the ragged, ill-conceived and poorly-constructed signs on the corner of my street: Garage Sale, Moving Out of Town Sale, Yard Sale, Everything Must Go . Some are fairly creative, but most were probably hastily put together in someone’s kitchen a half hour before they were placed on a wobbly stick for all to see.

Garage sales are so common and so frequent in the summer months we hardly even think much of them. For those of us who do not frequent such mercantile ventures, they mean little. However, for others, they are a way of life. Some folks spend an entire Saturday driving from one home to another searching for that one piece of treasure that will make all the difference in their lives. They are rarely very costly, but they mean something to this person, something to take home and be stored in the garage or the basement until it’s time to take the piece and sell it at another next garage sale!

The well-known saying: One person’s trash could be another person’s treasure surely seems to apply here.

The point, of course, is that we do not seem to know the true value of the things we buy or accumulate. What we thought would be a treasure, often turns out to be useless “stuff.” So, off to the next garage sale they go. Material things usually do not have much “staying-power.” Our interests change from moment to moment.

For those, however, who take the time to look more deeply into life’s human patterns, non material things often have more lasting power. Of course it takes some thought and discernment to see the difference. There is no price-tag on such non-material realities. It’s how we prize them that make the difference.

Those thoughts came to me as I read the scriptures for this 17th Sunday in Ordinary Time. The story of Solomon and his choice of prudence and wisdom over gold and power is an example of a man who knew the true value of life’s treasure.

Following this, we have Jesus telling several stories which compare the Reign of God to various sorts of treasures. The point Jesus is making is that the Reign of God is truly a treasure, although we seldom think of it that way.

So, what is this Reign of God? One author I read described it as how the world would look if God had his way. Sometimes the way we look at the world, of course, does not resemble any sort of treasure. The news in morning paper or the evening television will tell you pretty quickly where the world’s treasures lie.

The real question, however, is not where the world’s treasures lie, but where ours lie. We, each of us individually, are responsible for our own perception of what is of value in our lives. Running from one garage sale to the next may be an exciting venture. The real question, however, is this: What do these items mean to us, what lasting value do they have? What does the quest for having these material things tell us about the deeper meaning of life?

Granted, material things usually exert a strong attraction on us. The reign of God, on the other hand, can only be discerned if we avail ourselves of some quiet time each day to discover what is or should be important to us. Perhaps the garage sale sign on the street corner may still entice us but the attraction may soon lessen if we compare it to God’s Reign.

The scriptures: 1 Kings 3, 5 7-12; Romans 8: 28-30; Matthew 13: 44-52

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 09:34 AM.

July 19, 2008

Sixteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time - A Weed by Any Other Name

I imagine most of us have heard or read the line, “A weed by any other name is a flower.” Actually it seems to be true. We give names to many things, some of which we feel are useful to us, others that are simply a nuisance. Of course, even nuisance items are useful for something if we care to look at life from the broader perspective. One person’s dessert may be another’s poison! Even poison oak and poison ivy must be good for something, although not for us humans.

So, I assume that many of our convictions about the natural world depend on our perspective, whether they benefit us or not. It would be wise, therefore, if we could develop a sense that not everything in the world is bad and not everything is good. There seems to be a mixture of goodness and badness in almost everything. The problem is that we cannot always tell the difference.

As we have mentioned in earlier homilies, Jesus of Nazareth was a keen observer of nature, not as a biologist or a botanist, but simply as a normal citizen walking along the roads of Palestine.

The difference between Jesus and other travelers, of course, was that he saw meanings in nature that no one else saw. Of course, being a spiritual teacher, a rabbi, he would also be looking for the spiritual meaning of common things. I imagine, when his followers heard these spiritual interpretations, they might have said to themselves: “Hey, I never thought of life like that.”

So, when we hear Jesus speaking to the folks about the implications of wheat and weeds, they must immediately have asked themselves, “I wonder where I fit into this picture?”

Actually, Jesus was thinking beyond the individual person. He was more interested in the human condition at large: He would ask, “What are the world’s weed issues and what are the wheat issues? The answer, of course, is that it’s pretty hard to tell. Life is such a mixture of good and bad. Besides, who really knows who is bad and who is good? Sometimes it is fairly clear but at other times its rather foggy.

The point Jesus seems to be making is this: Generally speaking we do not know what is in the mind of another or what their motivation is. Besides, it is really none of our business. We should have enough to worry about in our own regard.

It seems true to me, therefore, that it is difficult to judge the lives and motivations of other people. Perhaps they could be blamed for a bad attitude on one issue, but praised for their position on another. No one, it seems to me, fits solidly into a single category.

An individual, for instance, may be “Pro Choice” (sadly, I think) but may also be deeply concerned about other social and religious issues: World poverty, for instance, or immigration problems, the plight of people suffering with AIDS. Others may decide to travel overseas to work with Catholic Relief Services in devastated areas of the world.

So, the point seems to be that it is not wise to be a “One Issue Person” or to accuse others of being “One Issue Persons.” Goodness and evil seem to exist alongside of one another and we are not always capable of discerning the wheat from the weeds. Perhaps we should say again that the discernment is not our responsibility; it’s God’s business. Just think, for instance, how peaceful the world would be if we allowed God to do what God does best.

By the way, I still keep a healthy distance from poison ivy. Tangy stalks of rhubarb, on the other hand, are another matter. Strawberry rhubarb pie is still my favorite dessert!

The scriptures: Wisdom 12: 13, 16-19; Romans 8: 26-27; Matthew 13: 24-43

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 10:21 AM.

July 12, 2008

Fifteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time - Nature’s Signs

Almost everyone I know seems to be talking about the price of food today. Actually, I do not need to buy much food where I am living, but I read the papers each day and many of the commentators who write on the economy are concerned about the rising prices of many commodities.

Of course, it’s not the food itself that is more costly; it’s the price of fuel for transportation that’s driving prices up. I feel sad for the folks who need to make their living in commercial transportation. Some need to fill up the gas tank of their trucks out of their own pocket.

The same is true for people who need to drive over an hour to work each day or taxi drivers who ferry people to their destinations. The margin of profit is getting narrower.

I have one particular gripe too: Why are we raising corn for Ethanol when people around the world are starving? Do folks (mostly men) need to drive Ford F-100’s or Dodge Ram 3000’s while people around the world simply long for the corn that provides food of all sorts? It makes no sense to me. Of course, I’m not in a position to change much of this, but if I were……..

Jesus speaks of food in the gospel for this 15th Sunday in Ordinary time, food not on the table yet, but out in the field. Now, Jesus himself was not a farmer as far as we know, but he surely watched farmers in the springtime of the year seeding their fields. He also knew that not all the landscape of Palestine was fit for planting. Therefore he points out to his listeners that the farmer who throws seed on dry, rocky, weed-prone soil cannot expect much of a harvest. The smart farmer, of course, will pick out a plot of good black loam, if it’s available, and know that he will eat well at harvest.

Now, at the same time, we must remember that Jesus was not particularly interested in good soil or bad soil or about good or poor harvests. Jesus was a story-teller and a crafter of analogies. Hence, what he is teaching here is a lesson on the power of the Seed-Word of God and the human “field” which awaits that seed. Jesus, natural parable-maker that he is, makes the point that if God’s word is to have any effect on our lives, we will need to have an open mind and a correct attitude. Otherwise the power of that Word will never germinate into something that will fully nourish our spirits.

I suppose it remains true for some of us, that the human seedbed is not always so well adapted to religious concepts or truths. There are just so many other secular interests: Television, movies, the daily newspaper. All are good and profitable, of course, for the person interested in how the world turns. But somewhere we might hope that the word of Jesus might also find a place among all these other interests.

I do know many people, for instance, who can pick up the New York Times and find many “gospel” articles on such issues as justice, peace, issues of immigration and others.

So perhaps we might need to say that the word of Jesus can be found in the scriptures but also in the pages of the Wall Street Journal, the New York Times or even in your local daily paper. If that’s the case, I’m sure Jesus would say, “Ah, now you’re getting the point.

The scriptures: Isaiah 55:10-11; Romans 8:18-23; Matthew 13: 1-23 or 13:1-9

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 12:03 PM.

July 05, 2008

Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time - "Understanding Mystery"

It seems to be a common feeling among most of us that we love newborns, new newborns of every kind: Little babies, colts, calves, rabbits, baby pandas. You can add to the list. My hunch is that we love little ones because they are still whole, still unspoiled. As for little children, they are still totally innocent. Nothing spoiled has entered their tiny minds. (Wait until they are teenagers!!)

I must confess that some of the most wonderful, the most hilarious experiences have been in my association with little kids in church. In some of the churches I served in the Archdiocese of Anchorage, I would take the opportunity before the readings and call up all the kids who wanted to come. And then I would pick a short piece from the gospel and quiz them. Now, let me tell you that can be a risky thing to do. You never know what is going to come out of the minds and mouths of six or seven year olds. Sometimes even I was embarrassed and happy to know that the kids could not get near the microphone. Their parents would have been scandalized. Knowing they were kids, of course, we can let it go. Adults say worse things.

I must admit also, however, that there is a kind of wisdom that flows from the lips of children. They may not know it as wisdom; it’s just something that flows out naturally, and that is a sort of childlike wisdom.

It has often occurred to me also that, at least in church, kids will always tell you the truth. (I don’t know what goes on at home!) It may be a kind of naïve truth but it will always be truth as they perceive it.

It occurs to me also that children have an uncluttered, untutored mind and there is a kind of wisdom that manifests itself when they speak, not the wisdom of the philosophers and theologians but something that comes as though from “instant thought.” It is something that just feels right and so they say it, whether it theologically correct or not.

I always find it interesting also to read in the gospels that Jesus took note of little kids. He must have sensed their innocence as even we do today. It is also interesting that Jesus points them out as models of truth, of simplicity and suggests that adults might learn some wisdom by observing the actions of the kids.

Perhaps it might be said that kids teach us a kind of intuitive theology, something that comes not from books or even from sermons, but simply from the first thought that comes to mind.

Unfortunately, we adults, particularly those of us who make theology or preaching our business, have learned too much theology to the point where we have forgotten simple theology, the kind that comes from intuition, from the heart.

But perhaps it’s not too late. Perhaps even we adults can learn all over again to think and pray as little children. It may embarrass us, but that may also be the most truthful way.

It is interesting, finally, to note that Jesus tells his disciples that God has hidden certain things from the learned and the clever and revealed them to merest children. That has always been a mystery for me: What was hidden from adults, and what was revealed to little children? Perhaps it means that kids understand mystery and we have gotten too old for that. Perhaps the fact that you and I must still continue searching for that sort of wisdom means that we still do not have the mind of a child. I suspect that it takes a lifetime. Oh well, we’ve got time and it will be worth the effort in the end.

The scriptures: Zechariah 9: 9-10; Romans 8, 9:11-13; Matthew 11:25-30

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 12:35 PM.

June 28, 2008

Feast of the Apostles Peter and Paul - A Leader for Everybody

People around the United States, whether Catholic or non-Catholic, are still talking about the visit of Pope Benedict XVI. There is no doubt that he instilled a sense of encouragement in the American Church. His homilies are still being analyzed by both secular and religious writers for deeper meaning. I imagine it could be said that when the leader of your Church comes to town you would be anxious to hear what he says.

Some news commentators predicted beforehand that he would be critical and harsh with us. As we watched and listened to him, however, we were relieved to note that the pope displayed a kindly and attentive manner among all his audiences. particularly when he visited the six men and women who had been sexually abused by priests. In short, Pope Benedict conducted himself as a true pastor, encouraging us and giving us direction. He left us heartened and hopeful. In short the Church in America got a shot in the arm from Pope Benedict XVI

At the same time, I wondered what people of other religions were thinking as they watched the “flair:” The pope dressed in his papal finery, bishops and cardinals surrounding him at every event. This display of religious ritual is something that people of other faiths seldom see or experience. Interestingly, however, there was hardly any negative reaction from any group. It tells me that people of all faiths or of no faith are interested in the expression of religious truth, even with all the externals that accompany it.

It seems to me that there is a deep sense of respect for a religious leader such as the pope, not only for his person, but also for his role as leader or pastor. No doubt, they are interested in what he says and how he expresses universal values, which affect Catholics and non-Catholics alike. It is interesting too that what the pope says seems to have a certain kind of religious power and fervor that all people appreciate

Perhaps it may seem to us that this sense of pastoral leadership is something pertaining to our own times. The scriptures for the Feast of Peter and Paul, however, give us a sense that such pastoral concern had its beginnings during the earliest days of the Church, even in the life and Peter and Paul. The lovely story of the man who sat at the Beautiful Gate of the temple in Jerusalem asking for a coin was rewarded with something immensely more important. Peter tells him: “I don’t have any silver or gold, but I’ll give you what I have: Get up and walk!” With out doubt, this was a pastoral sign, a miracle. But looking deeper, we notice that Peter also simply stopped and took notice. He could have walked on, but the plight of the man deeply moved Peter to compassion. The rest is history.

The interesting phrase is Peter’s admission that he had no money but that he would offer the man something more humanly beneficial: The ability to walk and, indeed, to dance.

All this reminds me that the joy that comes from being able to walk and dance could be interpreted as a divine gift, a sense of human wholeness or fullness. Again, Peter offered this as a pastoral gift and not simply as a “quick fix.”

We all know, of course, that Paul was a “driven” man: His pastoral sense drove him all around the Mediterranean basin visiting and instructing Jews, Romans and Greeks in cities, large and small. He cared little for his own comfort; he insisted that he was able to provide his own food and shelter. More importantly, however, it was his pastoral sense, his desire to make the Lord Jesus known far and wide, that kept him walking, often in tattered sandals.

So, what are we to make of this Feast of Peter and Paul? Simply this, the work of pastors has been the reason why our Church has continued to thrive for over 2000 years. True, people of other callings have also done great things: Theologians, medical experts, scientists, healthcare workers and others. Pastoring, however, is still the foundational work that makes Jesus known throughout history.

Let us say, therefore, that Pope Benedict stands in the line of hundreds of pastoral leaders throughout Church history, beginning with Peter and Paul and others who followed them. No doubt, in years to come, Catholics and people of other faiths as well, will feel confident, knowing that pastors such as Peter, Paul and Benedict will continue to lead them to Jesus.

The scriptures: Acts 12:1-11, 2 Tm 4:6-8, 17-18, Mt 16:13-19

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 09:05 AM.

June 21, 2008

Twelfth Sunday in Ordinary Time - No Human Losers

I have learned over the years how to be a discerning television viewer and radio listener. I mainly prefer National Radio and Public Television because both give me the opportunity to listen and view some up-to-the minute news and hear some sensible analysis. PBS also provides some of the finest American historical material I have ever watched: I have particularly enjoyed the works of Ken Burns, the film maker who has produced such classics as The Civil War, Jazz, Baseball and others. All of them are more than simple entertainment; they make us think, remember and ask where we were when these events happened. Frontline, by the way also has some good coverage of military and political issues.

On the other hand, Double Jeopardy and other programs of this genre have never held my attention. All of them seem to follow the same script: They are all about a few winners and lots of losers. Some are concerned mainly with winning thousands of dollars in a few tense moments. Others also are about groups or individuals who are in competition with one another. One by one, they are dismissed if they cannot follow clues. Ultimately only one remains, the rest go home weeping.

Television is a tough, competitive world. Only a few “lucky” individuals come out on top.

Actually American sports are also about winning and losing. We just came through the long weeks of March Madness, the University of Kansas being the winner. Lots of others went home disappointed for this year.

Now we look forward to the finals of the NBA championships and then, of course we will eagerly await the college and NFL football season once again. So it goes: At the time of the Super Bowl, some team will be the lucky winner and others will wait until next year.

All in all, of course, these competitions are about the winner as winner and not about the winner as a unique individual, a human being with feelings and emotions loves and hates personal successes and disappointments. He or she is mainly considered a sports person, a ball player who makes the team proud or leaves it disappointed. Who really knows what goes on in the mind of that individual out there on the field or how he or she feels about life when the crowd in the stands screams for a goal.

Sports are a huge attraction in the American mind. Millions of people pay big bucks to see their team win. (They hope!)

What one can often forget, however, is that these players are all unique individuals; they are not win-lose machines or individuals who can score points or prevent the opposing team from doing so.

I wanted to insist on all this because it is all part of the American psyche of winning and losing, nothing more.

On the other hand, when I read the gospel for this Twelfth Sunday in Ordinary Time, I say to myself: “How differently Jesus thinks about life and about the ordinary people who inhabit this planet.” For Jesus, every individual is important and unique. Jesus considered all of us as part of God’s concern and interest, individuals of great value.

He makes some beautiful remarks in his conversation with the crowds about God’s love for all creation. But he also says: “Are not two sparrows sold for next to nothing? And yet not a single sparrow falls to the ground without your Father’s consent. But, as for you, every hair on your head has been numbered. So, do not be afraid of anything. You are worth more than an entire flock of sparrows.

What a beautiful compliment to our understanding of the value of the human person.

I think it may be true to say that we do not fully appreciate how truly precious we are. How often we need to be reminded that we, each individual of us is of great value in God’s mind.

So often we seem to think of ourselves or others as mere cogs in a wheel, skilled individuals who can score points and help a team win the National Championship.

Jesus perception of us, on the other hand, is this: “You are more important than all the world’s sparrows.”

All the while, of course, we fall into the trap of self-deprecation: “I’m not much good at anything. I’ve never been a success. Everyone else seems to do better than I...

That, however, is not the way Jesus perceives us. No matter which way our life has turned, success or winning is not everything. Rather what is of greater value is to say: “I am the most unique creature God has ever created? There has never been anyone quite like me in the entire world. Maybe, in the end, I am ok. At any rate, Jesus seems to think so.”

Sparrows, of course, are ok too, but nothing in comparison to this human person, living and breathing right now in God’s beautiful world.

The scriptures: Jeremiah 20: 10-13; Romans 5: 12-15;
Matthew 10: 26-33

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 08:54 AM.

June 14, 2008

Eleventh Sunday in Ordinary Time - Compassion

There is a popular television program that I watch occasionally titled, “Jobs Nobody Wants.” The program takes you, the viewer, into storm drains, inside huge industrial boilers where men are scraping soot off the walls; others will introduce you to the art of bee-keeping or zoo maintenance with all the hard work that goes into that. Cleaning horse barns is also a choice attraction for this program.

Anyway, the point of the program is to let you know that there are some people in the world who are willing to do “”lousy” jobs but love it.

There is another job or a career that not everyone wishes to do, but I would not call it “lousy.” It’s the vocation of nurses. We have all spent enough time in hospitals to know all the things that they do. Some of it is glamorous (ER, for instance) Other tasks, of course include emptying bedpans, bathing patients, doing long night shifts, et cetera.

But do you ever hear them crying over it? I never have, at least not in public. They make their rounds healing patients, doing all the “grunt” work that doctors studiously avoid. I often wonder how they can maintain such composure in difficult and trying circumstances, day after, night after long night.

It occurs to me that they must call up from their deepest sources a personal dedication and commitment. I don’t think the mere fact that they have a job would be sufficient to give them a true sense of full satisfaction.

Nursing might not be my first choice as a profession. Although I consider myself a compassionate person, the care of human bodies has never attracted me. I am not comfortable, for instance, with suffering. Nonetheless some souls do choose to do these things because they are intimately connected to the human journey of all mankind.

I have a sense too that Jesus might not have preferred a nursing career either, although he did seem sensitive to the physicals and mental tortures that ordinary people were exposed to in those times.

For instance, the gospel for this Eleventh Sunday in Ordinary Time shows him being compassionate with the crowds who have been following him around on his travels. “They were exhausted,” the text says “hungry for food, thirsty for water.” On the surface, one could imagine that Jesus would have been more concerned with folks who wished to debate with him over some scripture passage rather than being distracted by stragglers and others demanding food and water,

Not so, Jesus, however. There are numerous passages where we find Jesus setting aside the preaching role for a moment to attend to someone’s domestic needs. Think about the time he healed Peter’s mother-in-law, who immediately got up and fixed a meal for him and his disciples. Or think about the little teenage girl, the parent’s only daughter who had died suddenly. Jesus could not let this moment pass: He raised her back to life.

I realize that these examples lack something inasmuch as Jesus called up special powers of healing. But my point is that they showed clearly that Jesus had a sense of compassion, as we all do, in the face of suffering. He did something about it, given the power he had.

The conclusion I draw from all this is that most of us, like Jesus, are already involved in some chosen career other than the medical profession. But for some mysterious reason we can manage to call up our powers of healing when we come upon someone who is hurting. It may be something as simple as “I’m having a bad hair day.,” or something as serious as “My mother just passed away.” Obviously, we cannot do much about the hair or bring the mother back to life. But all of us have the power of compassion. We know how to say a kind word of understanding or just to stick around and not abandon the person on the spot. Just being present is a virtue even if we can do little to obviate the suffering. If nothing else, we can stop and take notice. My hunch is that Jesus did that a lot of times, even though he often was not able to change the circumstances of the problem. In other words, he did not simply go on with his chosen career of preaching.

Perhaps that may also be the case with us. We hear or see something that stops us in our tracks. At that point we can either go on with our career or we can stop and find out what’s wrong. It’s at that point where our vocation of human healing comes into play. Someone may be changed in the process. Miracle? Who knows? But does it make any difference?

The scriptures: Exodus 19: 2-6a; Romans 5: 6-11; Matthew 9: 36 - 10: 8

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 09:57 AM.

June 07, 2008

Tenth Sunday in Ordinary Time - False Appearances

During most of the years I served as a priest in the Catholic Church of Anchorage, I lived in a pleasant part of the city’s west side called Spenard. It was actually the area where the city began. Photos of that time show it to be an “upscale” neighborhood with families out on the shores of Lake Spenard and Lake Hood on Sunday afternoons, kids having summer fun.

Over the years, however, Spenard fell on hard times: Housing gradually became rundown, seedy businesses of “personal pleasure” began to sprout up, some of which are still being shuttered periodically even today.

Many parts of Spenard, however, are very livable. Indeed, the apartment complex where employees of the Archdiocese lived was often considered the “Showplace of the West Side. We took pride in our surroundings.

Often in more recent times, as I would drive through the Spenard neighborhood, I would pass a rather fancy showroom for the Harley Davidson motorcycle business. The chrome cycles parked outside always shone brightly in the sun. So, I decided one day to stop by and have a close up look at those machines, something I had often been tempted to do even though I never had the thought of buying one. So, I walked into the parking lot and gingerly ran my fingers over the smooth shiny surface of those powerful machines...

After a few moments the manger (I think he might have been he manager judging from the cut of his Levis) came out and pleasantly asked: “You interested in a cycle, Father”? (I was wearing my Roman collar) I replied, “Well, no, not exactly. I’m barely able to drive a car safely around this city.” “Well, if you are ever interested, come on around, we have some beauties inside too.” So, with that, I returned to my car, finally having satisfied my burning interest in Harley Davidson cycles.

Several days later, however, one of my friends called and said: “Hey, I saw you the other day outside the Harley shop in Spenard, talking to the guy with the black leather jacket, the chains and all the rest. Those are pretty tough guys to be hanging around with, don’t you think?” I said, “Hey listen, he was really a nice guy. He even wanted to sell me a cycle. With the collar, I could probably have gotten a deal, don’t you think.”

It occurred to me later, however, that I probably did look a little odd in my collar talking to a guy dressed in a black leather jacket, carrying chains and all the rest. But I let it go and never gave it another thought until I read the gospel again for this Tenth Sunday in Ordinary Time!

It obviously does not talk about motorcycles or motorcycle gangs but it does speak rather obviously about some folks who were considered “outlaws” by certain religious segments of Jewish society. These were the so-called tax collectors we are all familiar with, public servants. Like certain motor cycle gangs today, they were considered a bit out on the edge of polite society.

However, while I am on the subject of cyclists, I must say that most of these folks have always appeared to me as people of good will, a bit odd perhaps, but who of us is not considered odd for various reasons. Yes, I know that their annual “retreat” in Sturgis, South Dakota takes on some questionable characteristics. Nonetheless many of the “gangs” ride for good causes: Vietnam veteran’s interests, cancer or heart research, et cetera. So, you can’t paint them all with the same brush.

My point in all this is to say that people are sometimes misunderstood by appearances: Yes, they dress differently, these cyclists, wear clothes that may seem odd to us, sport dark glasses, chains and all the rest. But should that cloud their character as individual human beings?.

I have a sense that is what Jesus was trying to say to the Pharisees when he was accused of sitting at table with tax collectors, individuals employed in a socially questionable career.

Jesus’ chosen table manners tell me that he was able to pass over the common perception of these individuals. Sure, they sometimes did skim money off the top of peoples’ tax returns but does that qualify them for general public condemnation? At least one or two tax collectors mentioned in the gospels claimed that they gave back four-fold anything they skimmed.

The point in this story and the story of the Harley Davidson manager is that we often misperceive people by considering only their chosen way of life, their recreational choices, even their manner of dress. True their “careers” may not compare to the careers of bankers, realtors, clergymen and women, public officers, et cetera, but we all make life choices, do we not? If a choice of career does not harm the public good or give public scandal to sensible people, perhaps there should be little reason to criticize it. My hunch is that Jesus had a mind to bring these folks into His Father’s kingdom much as he appealed to those in other walks of life. At any rate, he made the pointed remark that he had come not to call the self-righteous but sinners. I’m sure the revenue collectors must have been delighted to know that finally someone of religious importance, indeed, a rabbi had concern about them.

Well, with all that, I am quite sure that the Hells Angels and other similar groups might feel honored to know they are called to God’s kingdom despite what the rest of us might think of them. In Jesus’ mind, it is not the appearances that count but what lies in the heart.

Despite all I have said, of course, I’m not going out any time soon to buy a leather jacket, a chain for my wallet, a pair of hard-nosed boots and a cycle. Nonetheless, I have hopes of meeting some of those guys in God’s heavenly kingdom someday. They were very cordial to me; not a word about the fingerprints I may have left on their beautiful riding machines.

The scriptures: Hosea 6: 3-6; Romans 4: 18-25; Matthew 9: 9-13

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 10:25 AM.

May 31, 2008

Ninth Sunday in Ordinary Time - Words, Words, Words

I sometimes find it almost overwhelming when I walk into Barnes and Noble bookstore, or, indeed, any bookstore, and gaze around at the millions (I think it is millions) of books and periodicals stacked there. Multiply that by all the bookstores around the world and the libraries as well, and you will have some choices facing you. Unless one has a pretty good notion of what one is looking for and is able to find it without appealing to the nice person at the customer service desk, one will be lost and the errand will have been a waste of time.

My own visits to Barnes and Noble have ordinarily been efforts to find out what is new and exciting (?) in the world of theology, and, believe me, there are always new thoughts and ideas coming to light from people who make this their career.. Theologians never tire of looking for answers to the Sacred. The choices are vast, so where to start?

All authors, I should imagine, write words with the intent to say something enlightening for the world, something intelligent, earth-shaking, indeed, even something that will change the world or the reader’s sense of life. Rarely does one write simply for one’s self. (I will say something in that regard later, however.)

Of course, writing words is one of humankind’s greatest gifts, our deepest human desire next to the reproduction of the species. (There may be others) From ancient times men and women have inscribed symbols or words on something that would last: Clay, papyrus, eventually paper. All this was done to speak the author’s innermost feelings or convictions about life and the way it is lived. Whether anyone actually read those words might have seemed unimportant to the writer. Something needed to be said and the author said it without being concerned what others thought of it.

Each of these writers, whether they are skilled or not, feels the need to say something fresh and new about the world. Even a casual letter to a friend would be an example of that.

Perhaps what we write will be read by someone, perhaps many, but even if it is not read, a word has been set free to do its task in the world. The writer has taken the opportunity, even with fear and trepidation to say what is on his or her mind. Not all readers might agree with the author’s position; nonetheless he or she felt the need to say it and let the chips fall where they may.

All writing of words, whether deep or superficial, makes an impact on human society and are a service to humankind. How else could people over the centuries have been expected to discover their history and interpret it without someone having written it down?

It is sometimes said the character of any civilization can be recognized best in the works of its authors and artists. (Of course, let us not forget the work of artisans as well, those who build buildings, make roads and till the soil)

At any rate, all of us, whether we are artists or artisans, have that inbred desire to leave a mark on civilization. I think, for instance of the lovely pre-historic paintings on the walls of the caves in France. (the Lascaux etchings). They are mainly reproductions of animals of that time and age: Fierce bulls and lions and tigers fighting one another. It might be safe to say that those etchings do not simply represent animals above ground. I think they might also represent the feelings of those ancient people, their concept of the power of animals and their threat to human existence. Perhaps there was even a sense of admiration for these ferocious beasts, their power and the struggle for survival. Hence, they probably felt the need to represent their feelings in “living color” on the cave walls.

So, it simply needs to said that people of all civilizations have consistently tried to say what enlightened them, what inspired them, what frightened them, what gave them a sense that there is something beautiful in the world that needs to seen and interpreted; and, of course, we are all the richer for it.

That said, we now move from the great and powerful season of Easter into the season of the year, Ordinary Time, as it is called, that long list of Sundays that last until the Thirty Fourth Sunday and we once again look forward to the dawn of Advent.

Our scriptures for this Ninth Sunday in Ordinary Time predictably also speak of words and their impact on human life. Moses, for instance, that man wise in law, tells his Israelite compatriots that the stone tablets he has brought down with him from the mountain are actually meant to be considered unimportant in comparison to the words inscribed on them. He tells them that these must not be restricted to the tablet. Indeed, they will have no power whatsoever unless they find a place in peoples’ hearts where they can be remembered and reflected on each day. “Bind them to your wrists,” he tells them; “wear them as a pendant on your forehead” so that you will never have the temptation to forget them or disobey them.

The fact, of course, that these reminders were hung on wrists and foreheads did not mean that they were always obeyed. Nonetheless they remained there as reminders of something that would “prickle” the conscience if they did, indeed, disobey them. That warning in itself would be sufficient reminder.

The question that arises from time to time asking whether the commandments should be hung on courthouse walls still stirs controversy today. In an odd sort of way, it tells us that these ancient and sacred rules of life still are taken seriously..
Jesus, in the Matthew gospel we read for this Sunday has a “suggestion” for Christians of a later age who may appear from time to time saying: “Hey look my miracles, look at the apparitions, look at the cures I have done. Aren’t we so great?

In so many words, Jesus warns such followers first to listen carefully to his words, meditate on them, interiorize them and then put them into practice. Without this, all the showy miracles will mean little. He compares such persons, who look for fast and easy solutions to life’s problems, to a contractor who builds a house on sand rather than on rock. Time, nature and human whims will wash away such a house.

I imagine it could be said of all of us, therefore, that words are often easy to come by, easy even to speak or write. The question, of course, is not what can these words do to change the world. (It seldom happens anyway) Rather, what have these words done to give me and you, the writer or the reader, an insight into life? How can I live in such a way that these words will change me? Do I gain any new or fresh insights into my life or the lives of my brothers and sisters? If not, perhaps all “words may turn out to be a house built of clay, situated on sandy soil. The waters of time will eventually wash them away, forever unremembered.

So, once again, I have written some words. They will surely not change the world, but the moments I have spent putting them together has been a real joy. I hope they will also be that for you, dear reader.

The scriptures: Deuteronomy 11: 18, 26-28, Romans 3:21-25,28; Matthew 7: 21-27

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 09:53 AM.

May 24, 2008

Feast of the Most Precious Body and Blood of Christ

Tables! There are all kinds of them, of course; and we use them for any purpose that meets our needs. But the one that is used most often and consistently (usually three times each day) is situated in our dining room. Some prefer to sit in an easy chair before the television and take their meals but it’s not the same as sitting with someone at a table made for eating and talking.

It all begins early in life, of course with a table called, a “highchair.” We had one in our home, as I remember it, made out of wood. All of us children used it before we were old enough to sit at the main dining table. It has long since disappeared,
ending up in an antique store I suspect. Nonetheless, there must have been many memories for our mother connected to that piece of furniture as she nourished us, one after the other, with homemade cream of wheat, oatmeal or mashed potatoes and peas. (No Gerbers in those days.)

For us youngsters, it was just a chair with a lift-up tray to catch the spoonfuls of food that did not quite make it to our tiny mouths. But for our mother this was a dining table for her young family, the place where she fed her flock.

As we grew up, each of us in turn took our place around a more proper table where we learned to wait our turn, say “please” and “thank you” as we passed the dishes of food on to one another. In some unique and simple way we were being taught the meaning of personal service, waiting on each other with patience.

How else could all this have happened except at a table where food was served and shared. It is a habit we all take for granted because it happens so consistently, so unobtrusively. We sit and eat but we do not often ask the meaning of what we are doing.

But on certain occasions sitting and eating does involve a special meaning: A birthday party for a six-year-old at Chuckie Cheese, a dinner for teenage couples at a fancy restaurant before the senior prom, a quiet personal meal a couple shares on their twenty fifth wedding anniversary, a celebration for grandparents on their seventy fifth.

Most folks would agree, of course, that all of these examples are more than meals. The food and drink, even the table is only the setting to celebrate something more important, a life-event, a human occasion, a setting for memories, toasts and cheers.

Yes, it could all be done while sitting around the living room in soft comfortable reclining chairs, but it would not be the same. In truly, authentic meals there is always something that transcends the actions of eating and drinking, something indescribable.

Meals, for the most part, of course, take place in homes or restaurants. But, odd as it may seem, holy places, churches, temples and synagogues have also become “dining rooms”, locations where our religious histories are celebrated occasions when we come together to be spiritually nourished on word, bread and wine.( It’s always bread and wine!).

Most Christian churches follow the custom and ritual of Jewish history: They gather, they listen to a proclamation of their spiritual traditions, they reflect on it. Then a table is set, bread and wine, those ancient, primordial natural elements are brought forth. A designated leader praises God for the produce of the earth and the fruit of the vine. Then a Eucharistic prayer is spoken over the elements, a formal and never changing anaphora, asking God to receive them back as a sign of human thanks.

All that having been said and done, the gathered community is invited to come and eat and drink with grateful hearts.

All this seems to be such a simple set of words and gestures, but ones that also contain sacred and ancient meaning.

For most Christians the doing and saying of all this has meaning precisely because we have a religious history that begins with Jesus of Nazareth, who himself was a man deeply immersed in his own Jewish history and sacred rites.

These were so important to him that on the night before he died, on the night of Passover, he chose to celebrate the Passover meal itself with his disciples one last time. The gospels tell us it was a sacred meal with all the elements we expect to find in the sacred meals we celebrate today: A recalling of our Christian history, a giving thanks for bread and wine and fellowship, then the sharing of bread and cup and, finally, the invitation to give thanks once more, go out and be God to the world.

Why do we do all this, Sunday after Sunday? We do it because of Jesus explicit words: “When you do this, do it in memory of me.”

And so we have been doing it for well over two thousand years without interruption. We gather faithfully on the Lord’s Day to remember Jesus and to be nourished on word, bread and wine.

Finally, what seems so significant and mysterious in all this, the liturgy, the peoples’ work, is that it all depends on the recognition and meaning of some very elemental, human realities: The need for people to gather and remember their sacred heritage, the invitation to break these open again and again and then to sit at table and remember the One who died for us so that we can continue to be nourished and grow spiritually.

So, it occurs to me that life is ultimately about simple things and simple actions which in themselves contain deep meaning. Perhaps to understand it all, we need to think about that highchair again and all those times since then that we have been seated with others to reflect on life’s meaning.

The scriptures: Deuteronomy 8:2-3, 14b-16a; 1 Corinthians 10:16-17; John 6:51-58

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 10:21 AM.

May 17, 2008

Feast of the Most Holy Trinity

Most of us could probably say that when we consider our daily existence we depend fundamentally upon such things as air and water, food and exercise. True enough. But I would also like to suggest that, in addition to those physical elements, we depend for life on mystery, not mystery stories, but rather on the sense that there is something in life beyond us, a kind of overwhelming “uexplainedness.” That may be the reason why we are never quite satisfied with life as it is or as it seems to be. We have a human hunch that there is still something more that could fulfill our deepest longings. For lack of a better word we assign that mystery to God. I suspect that even those who claim no God must still wonder whether there is anything beyond their daily human existence.

Lest we imagine that the search for mystery, the sacred, is an adult activity, I would like to suggest that it begins in childhood: A tiny baby who recognizes its mother’s face and smiles is responding mystery. When a child grabs for a colored toy in the crib, it is responding to mystery.

As children grow up, of course they begin to become aware of more abstract forms of mystery and naturally ask questions about their meaning.

A story from my own childhood history will serve as an example: Our church of St. Henry was a stately faux-Gothic structure with a high ceiling and a long nave. In the apse at the end of the nave the architect had designed a splendid stained glass window with a huge eye in the very center.

I can remember on one occasion, before the beginning of Mass, asking my mother: “Hey ma, what’s that big eye doing up there?” She said something to the effect: “That’s the eye of God and God is looking at you, so you’d better keep quiet or something will happen to you.” End of conversation (sort of). But I continued to wonder about that eye or perhaps better about the beautiful range of colors that poured out from the middle of the eye. Of course, as a six-year-old, I still had no deeper theological sense of God, but the fascination with the colors gave me a hint that beauty had something to do with God.

Perhaps, given all that, there is something deep in our psyche that tells us that we have not yet explained everything around us. Perhaps we come to realize that we are merely created beings and that a power greater than ourselves keeps us in being.

That in itself seems to speak to our dependence on the Sacred, on God. Having no simple answers to the Sacred, we wonder, we contemplate, we think, we reflect.

But throughout our life we also continue to search for clearer, more convincing answers, for a clarity that will calm our human quest and bring not final answers but a sense that we are a bit closer to what we imagine God to be.

Since the earliest days of human existence, we creatures have been fascinated by the possibility of the Other. All religions have their gods to whom they lift their eyes and offer their prayers.

From the earliest days of our own Christian faith, theologians and other learned individuals have tried to give some substance to our human faith quest. Our sources are always the sacred Scriptures which speak of God creator, of the Divine Son, Redeemer and of the Holy Spirit, wisdom and consoler. These are human words, of course, which attempt to give us a deeper understanding of all that is sacred and divine, the Holy Trinity.

But they are still words, after all, human designations. We know that God the Father is always greater, more all-encompassing than the word father. We know that the Son is always more than our human word for son. The Holy Spirit is always beyond our feeble words that can speak only of wind and fire.

In the end we admit that we are “at a loss for words.” Anything we say, any word we choose, will never compare with the reality of the Infinite One.

But if words are often inadequate to speak of God, we never tire of seeking out other sources to fulfill our eternal quest for what is sacred to us: We gaze quietly at some great piece of art and are reduced to silence. We listen to the works of Mozart or Beethoven and are overwhelmed by the sound and complexity. We listen (on a CD) to the Gregorian chant done so well by the monks at the Grand Chartreuse in France or the monks at San Domingo de Silos in Spain or, closer to home, to the monks at the Abbey of Gethsemane in Kentucky. Or perhaps purely on our own initiative, we stop at a church on our way home from work and there we simply sit and let the sense of the Sacred soak into our being.

All these works of art and other human devices, of course, are not God, but each in their own way tries to speak of the God who is beyond word or art. The rest is left up to our own imagination; we call it contemplation.

In the end, perhaps we should say that each of us is left to our own devices, our personal gifts and talents. I would imagine that even astronomers and astrophysicists with their great insights must occasionally say to themselves, “we have only scratched the surface of the source of all this.”

One might even come to the point where we could say that the God who exists from all eternity is also the God we have “created” for ourselves, out of our own rich gifts of insight and imagination. In that sense each of us must speak for him or herself when we speak of and to our God.

My hunch is that each of our efforts to speak to our God, if honestly made, reaches the heavens, the very throne of the Sacred One, and we are left with the deep consolation that, as St. Augustine once wrote, ”Our hearts are created for you, O God, and restless are they until they rest in you.”
The scriptures: Exodus 34: 4b-6, 8-9; 2 Corinthians 13: 11-13; John 3: 16-18

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 09:44 AM.

February 02, 2008

Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time - A Word For Losers

It has long been my conviction that most preaching probably does not change many lives. Indeed, I often wonder if the word of Jesus as preached among the faithful ever changes much in most peoples' lives or life in general in this world?. I have a hunch that most people who are consistent Sunday worshipers have heard the gospels and other scriptures so often that they have ceased to have much impact on Christian conscience. Some may say: "Well, I'm sure those words must have had an impact on somebody when they were first spoken, but, hey, we're living in a different world today. Life is a lot more complicated than it was in Jesus' day." So, I suspect that many minds may often begin to wander when many of Jesus' wonderful words are spoken year after year, Sunday after Sunday.

The fact is (I think it's a fact!) that the words of scripture and the gospels in particular always run up against modern culture (post modern culture!) and, of course, they do not always seem to address our contemporary concerns. This is a different age, we say, times with different concerns, different questions.

And yet, on the other hand, the words of scripture and the gospels in particular are transcendent, they cross all ages and cultures and even fit our age if one has the courage to listen with open ears.
Well, all this may sound like a depressing way to begin a homily, but there are some words in all three scriptures for this Sunday that I am sure will not find an open ear in the lives of many Christians.

The word that will make some listeners roll their eyes and plug their ears is the word humility. My hunch is that humility is not a word that many people would say is part of their daily experience. We live in an age where winning is everything and losing is nothing: Watch ESPN or any sports channel on television. Watch some of those other programs that portray people competing in weird ways for some paltry amount of money. Think about the financial segment on the evening news. It's all about winners and loser.

The old phrase "nice guys finish last" is probably a saying many people believe even though they would not say so publicly .
In short, most folks probably are convinced that you will never get anywhere in this world unless you are willing to get into the ring and fight it out with others. "It's a tough, competitive world out there," they will say. "Get used to it."

So, I'm wondering what thoughts were going through the pews when the folks heard Zephaniah the prophet use the word humble, humility and lowly in that reading a few moments ago? Most folks probably thought, "well, that's all very nice, everybody already believes that."

Then we hear St. Paul saying roughly the same thing in his letter to the Christian folks at Corinth: He tells them something they already know: "Not many of you are wise or powerful or of noble birth. You are the weak, the lowly, and the despised. In the eyes of the world around you, you count for nothing."

Well, all that was probably true: The early Christians, for the most part, were of the lower economic classes. But, of course, Paul was also saying: "Hey, is that all so bad? Being poor is not an insult. At the same time, it's not something we eagerly look forward to either."

And then we have those beautiful words of Jesus we have come to call the beatitudes (the "blessed").

But take a look at them: Whom does Jesus bless, whom does he call fortunate? Not the rich and the powerful, not those who can control their own lives, not the independently wealthy. No, Jesus calls fortunate, blessed, those whom the world has forgotten: The poor, the meek, the persecuted, the insulted.

Now, that really sounds pretty depressing: How could the poor ever feel blessed? That surely does not do much for social conditions in the world, telling people that it's ok to be on the bottom of the social ladder.

So, how can we deal with something that appears so contradictory, at least to modern ears? Hardly anyone who is poor or homeless or starving would claim that they are blessed!

Well, I don't have any easy answer to all this, but I think it becomes a little more clear when you compare this version of the beatitudes in Matthew to the version we have

in Luke's gospel. Luke's is a lot tougher: Luke compares the rich and the poor and he blesses the poor and curses the rich. So, it is in the comparison that you begin to get some insight about the "fortunate" (the blessed) and the unfortunate the "cursed." The question is this: In the mind of God, who is truly blessed or cursed? In the mind of God can we truly say that to be rich and independent is something that we should ultimately strive for? Should we consider the rich and famous, the independent to be fortunate simply because they are rich and independent? Is that a blessed way of life, particularly when the rich are rich at the expense of the poor? No one could believe that.

So, the beatitudes are really questions about inequality in the world: The rich and the poor, the powerful and the weak, those who can control their lives and those who have no control over their lives. When the comparisons in the beatitudes are applied to modern life, they address the problems of universal health care, the problems of education for the poor, the problem of immigration, the problem of housing, the problem of an inequitable tax structure, the problem of the destruction of the environment at the expense of the poor and peasant land-owners.

So, it is my conviction that Jesus is not praising people who are humble (that is without power). He is saying, "This is no way to live. Life in this world should not be a battle between the powerful and the weak. To be powerful is not necessarily a virtue and to be powerless could possibly be a "curse."

Hidden in these scriptures, I believe there is something, about human dignity, the value of the person, about the fact that all human beings deserve respect no matter what their so-called state in life may be. No one deserves to be poor or without control over his life.

I do not know, therefore, whether these scriptures about humility will eventually change the way life happens in this world, but I would still have to say that it would not hurt any of us to be reminded that there are lots of inequities in this world and maybe it's ok if we happen to be reminded of that occasionally. Nice guys do no have to finish last!"

The scriptures: Zephaniah 2:3, 3:12-13, 1 Corinthians 1: 26-31, Matthew 5: 1-12a

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 09:45 AM.

January 26, 2008

Third Sunday in Ordinary Time - Purely By Chance?

I'm sure most of us from time to time must ask ourselves, "How the heck did I ever end up doing what I am doing today, living where I am, married to the person I am married to, following the career I'm presently involved in?" When you think about it, so many events in our lives seem to be a great mystery, as though they seemed to have happened purely by chance. And yet, here we are, doing what we are doing hardly even questioning it.

Yet, think about it: Our life could have had many different options, it could have gone in a thousand different directions. The reason why we happen to be where we are, doing what we are doing is because somewhere in our life we made a deliberate decision to do this and not do that. So, what seems at first to be pure chance is not pure chance. It happened for a reason and the reason is in our choices.

We need to say then that many things in life are pure chance, but many others happen by intention.

I'm sure also that many of us may look back in our life and say: "Gosh, if I'd only taken that job out in Los Angeles, life would have been completely different. If I had married my high school sweetheart perhaps my life would also look differently.

Over all then we must say that the history of each of our lives is a series of choices, a choice taken or a choice declined. We simply need to live with that. The old saying, "not to choose is to choose" seems to find a place here.

In my own life I have often reflected on the reality that everything that has happened to me is somehow linked to something else. If I had not been in the right place at the right time, my life could have been completely different. Somehow that also seems rather scary!

It has often occurred to me too that there are many human events narrated in the gospels that seem to appear as pure chance. But whether they are chance or not, our lives as Christians, the life of the Church have been determined by those choices.

Let us simply look at the story in the gospel today about Jesus choice of Peter and Andrew, James and John as his first disciples. Think how coincidentally that all happened.

Let's say, for instance, that Jesus had decided to begin preaching the kingdom in a large city like Rome or Alexandria or even in less important cities like Jerusalem or the bustling Galilean city of Sepphoris. That's obviously where the action was. But Jesus deliberately chose not to do that, of course. Nonetheless, would he not have attracted many more people than he did by preaching in the small peasant villages of Palestine?

Or, let us say that Jesus had decided on that particular morning to go walking up in the hills or in the desert rather than on the shore of the Sea of Galilee. Or, let say that Jesus had decided to ask several intellectual giants or high powered business men to follow him rather than four ordinary fishermen.

Would that have affected the future of Christianity? I suspect it would have.

Or, let us say that these four fishermen had responded to Jesus' invitation like this: "Hey, listen, Jesus, we're just ordinary blue-collar guys; all we know how to do is fish; we've never given as sermon in our entire lives. Moreover, we have no idea what this "kingdom" is all about." In other words, if these four had declined Jesus invitation to follow him, would that have changed the face of Christianity? Doubtless, it would have.

Again, all that sounds rather scary because it sounds so "chancy" but that is exactly the way it probably happened and history took care of the rest. There was no plan on Jesus part to pick fishermen rather than teachers or politicians. It just happened that way. It does no good to try and figure out why things happened the way they did in Jesus' life.

I think the only way to understand all these "chancy" questions is to try and place them into the context of history. The even better question is to ask is what these individuals did after those decisions were made. What did thousands and thousands of others in the history of the church do with their choices? In other words, it takes a broad perspective to understand what impact these decisions have had on the course of history.

All of this, of course, has some relevancy to our own lives. Those of us who are Christian or Catholic could ask ourselves: "How did I get this far? What makes me Catholic? Well, obviously, a lot of decisions on the part of a lot of people in our personal history brought all this about.

The better question is to ask what we are doing with these choices that have been made for us or that we have made for ourselves. From that point of view nothing is pure chance. Our Christian life looks like the way it does because we have taken charge of it and have made it look this way. That's all that counts.

Finally, all of these events can be traced back to the life of one person, Jesus of Nazareth, who made a deliberate choice one particular day to go out and preach God's kingdom. The fact is, he simply needed some help and that's where it all started.

I'm personally happy that it all worked out the way it did in the course of history. Actually, there is not much I can do to change it now anyway, even if I wanted to.

The scriptures: Isaiah 8: 23-9:3, 1 Corinthians I: 10-13, 17, Matthew 4: 12-23

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 09:39 AM.

January 12, 2008

Baptism of the Lord - The Sacrament of Nature

I never thought the day would come in my Iifetime when so many Americans would become seriously concerned about nature, the environment and specifically about its gradual annihilation. I can remember a time when people who expressed concern about the natural wonders of our world were mockingly called "greenies" or "tree-huggers". Those were not complimentary words!

In my entire lifetime it seems to me that we Americans have been under the impression that there will always be an abundance of material things to sustain the human race: Water, air, birds and animals, growing things of all sorts.

But surprisingly and suddenly we are becoming aware that the earth cannot sustain the human race forever unless we take better care of it. Already, some areas of the world and our own country are worrying about the availability of water. The city of Atlanta, for instance, underwent a serious drought last fall to the point where water needed to be rationed.

Scientists are seriously concerned about the disappearance of the glaciers and the Greenland ice cap. Here in Alaska, the native people of the Interior are noticing the decline in the numbers of sea life and the gradual thawing of the tundra. It's called global warming and it's caused by the amount of hydrocarbons that we have been spilling into the atmosphere since the beginning of the Industrial Revolution. We never realized all this was happening until it became evident in the world around us and now many people are becoming "greenies." All to the good, of course!

I got to thinking about all this some while back and it occurred to me that perhaps Christian folks ought to be the first to be concerned about the natural world precisely because so much of our liturgy and our sacraments are symbolically related to nature. Our liturgical year follows the seasons: Easter, for instance always occurs in the spring. The end of our liturgical year happens in late fall when nature is gradually dying. Fire and water play an important in the Easter Vigil. Each year our scriptures that we read at Mass remind us that we are stewards or caretakers of creation! But whether we Christians, Catholics are better stewards than the rest of the population is doubtful.

It seems to me, however, that the power of nature can help us to understand and celebrate the sacraments. Take just two elements of nature: Fire and water. They have both been prominent in the news. In October thousands of acres of forest burned in Southern California. Many homes and businesses were lost. Perhaps better care of the environment would have prevented some of that.

We all know the word Katrina, of course, and the great floods that struck the coasts of Mississippi and Louisiana two years ago. Suddenly, we all learned the power of wind and water and the need to be prepared for such disasters.

Well, given all this reflection on the environment, we can now turn our attention to the symbolic power of water in the liturgy. We celebrate today the Baptism of the Lord, a turning point in Jesus life when he came to John and asked for the same penitential washing that all those hundreds of others were seeking.

Now, obviously this baptism of Jesus was not the same sacrament we experience as Christians today. Jesus did not cease being a Jew to become a Christian on that day. So, what is the implication of that ritual described in the scriptures for this Sunday?

The point is that people of all the ancient cultures have used water as a symbol not only of washing or cleansing, but also as a sign of inclusion. For centuries those Eastern cultures have welcomed new aspirants with some sort of initiation ceremony. That is precisely what Jesus experienced on that day in his young adult life: This was the day he recognized his call from God, his vocation.

Now, obviously, in our own times baptism is for the most part celebrated in the early years of children's lives, Some will ask, of course: Why not wait until they are young adults so that they can make their own decisions regarding whether or not they wish to be Christians?

From my own experience, I can only say that I am happy that my parents decided to make that decision for me 6 days after I was born. It was heartening to know that they cared enough about me to welcome me into the faith of our