26th Sunday in Ordinary Time, September 25, 2022

Money and the comforts it brings can blind us to the needs of others

Luke 16: 17–31

There was a rich man who dressed in purple garments and fine linen and dined sumptuously each day. And lying at his door was a poor man named Lazarus, covered with sores, who would gladly have eaten his fill of the scraps that fell from the rich man’s table. Dogs even used to come and lick his sores. When the poor man died, he was carried away by angels to the bosom of Abraham. The rich man also died and was buried, and from the netherworld, where he was in torment, he raised his eyes and saw Abraham far off and Lazarus at his side. And he cried out, ‘Father Abraham, have pity on me. Send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, for I am suffering torment in these flames.’ Abraham replied, ‘My child, remember that you received what was good during your lifetime while Lazarus likewise received what was bad; but now he is comforted here, whereas you are tormented, Moreover, between us and you a great chasm is established to prevent anyone from crossing who might wish to go from our side to yours or from your side to ours.’ He said, ‘Then I beg you, father, send him to my father’s house, for I have five brothers, so that he may warn them, lest they too come to this place of torment.’ But Abraham replied, ‘They have Moses and the prophets. Let them listen to them.’ He said, ‘Oh no, father Abraham, but if someone from the dead goes to them, they will repent.’ Then Abraham said, ‘If they will not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded if someone should rise from the dead.’

Music Meditations

• Open My Eyes, Lord—Jesse Manibusan
• My Wealth Is Not in What I Own—Fernando Ortega
• Give Me Jesus—Vince Gill

Opening Prayer

Jesus, we offer to you in prayer all that we are and all that we have. We ask for help in using wisely all that we possess, and living easily with what we might like to possess but cannot. Bless those that have so little and open our eyes to what we might do to help. Us. Give us the eyes to see and the hearts to understand the suffering poverty brings to those in our own midst. And finally, give us the spirit of generosity.

Companions for the Journey

From “Living Space”, a Service of the Irish Jesuits 2022:

Commentary on Luke 16:19-31

Here we have illustrated in parable form two of Luke’s beatitudes: “Happy are you who are poor, you who are hungry now!” and “Woe to you who are rich, who are filled now!” The links with the First Reading are also obvious.

On the one hand, you have a rich man dressed in purple and fine linen, both signs of great wealth. He also has a good table and enjoys the choicest of foods every day. (He is sometimes called ‘Dives’, which is simply the Latin word for ‘rich’.)

At the same time you have a poor man called Lazarus. (The rich man is nameless. In spite of all his money, he is a Nobody.) He was hungry and longed, like the dogs, to pick up the scraps that might fall from the dining table. The dogs even licked his sores. Dogs were abhorrent to Jews so this was a particularly degrading thing to happen.

What is striking about this scene is that nothing seems to be happening. The rich man is eating; the poor man is sitting and waiting. There are no words between them. The poor man is not abused or chased away; he is simply ignored as if he did not exist. “As often as you neglected to do it to the least of these brothers of mine, you neglected to do it to me.”

Then both men die. Lazarus is brought by angels to the bosom of Abraham; the rich man is condemned to an existence of great suffering in Hades, the place of the dead. The rich man now begs for even the slightest relief from the man he ignored in his lifetime. But it is now too late.

The rich man had his chance and he blew it. He had his life of “good things”; he now knows just how “good” they really were. It is now Lazarus’ turn to have the really good things, the companionship of his God.

The rich man begs on behalf of his brothers that they be warned. “They have Moses and the prophets [the whole Jewish religious tradition],” replies Abraham. “But if only someone would come to them from the dead, they would change their ways.” “If they will not listen to Moses and the prophets, they will not be convinced if someone should rise from the dead.”

Surely a reference to Jesus himself and to the many Jews who refused to believe in him even after his resurrection. There are people today who want some special signs from God in order to believe. We have the Good News of the New Testament and the living, experienced presence of Jesus among us; we do not need any more. We have all the guidance we need to lead the kind of life which will ensure we spend our future existence in the company of Lazarus.

And that life is measured not by wealth, status, or power but in a life of caring and sharing relationships. In a world of extreme consumerism, hedonism and individualism, today’s readings have a very important message. Those are truly rich who enrich the lives of others.

Weekly Memorization

Taken from the gospel for today’s session…

If they will not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded if someone should rise from the dead

Living the Good News

What action can you take in the next week as a response to today’s reading and discussion?

Keep a private journal of your prayer/actions responses this week. Feel free to use the personal reflection questions or the meditations which follow:

Reflection Questions

Who do I identify with in the story? If the answer is “neither”, then am I off the hook? How do I define I rich? Am I rich? Am I richer than others? How am I privileged? What are the challenges presented by that privilege? In the light of the gospels, what do I do with my money? How does money fit in with my identity as a Catholic? As a disciple of Jesus? How does money define my spirituality? How big a fault is self-absorption or self-centeredness? What might self-centeredness lead to in terms of behavior towards others? Did you notice that even after the rich man died he still thought of Lazarus as someone lesser who was there to do his bidding? How does economic stratification lead to such behavior? Have you been on the giving end or the receiving end of entitled and arrogant behavior? What is the role of sensitivity in dealing with those less fortunate? What behaviors, though well meant, can be seen as condescending or demeaning? Does today’s inequality resemble the inequality of Jesus’ time? How invisible are the poor among us here in this wealthy suburb of San Francisco? How much time in our own lives do we focus on faults of omission as well as faults of commission? How easy is it to comfort ourselves with the knowledge that we have not really done bad things? Are the good things we do mostly for those we care about, or want to impress? Does my charity begin and end at home? Do I only give out of my excess, or do I only give what I no longer want or need? Do I believe that “no one gets into heaven without a letter of recommendation from the poor”? What Lazarus have I encountered lately? What poor person have I encountered lately? If not, how is that possible? What am I missing?

Meditations

A Meditation in the Franciscan Style/Action:

Luke 16: 19-31 Why did the rich man go to an eternity of torment? We are not told that he acquired his wealth by foul means. We are not told that he personally, is responsible for the poverty and misery of Lazarus. In fact, we are not even told that Lazarus begged from him directly and was refused. We are not told that the rich man committed any crime or bad deed. All we are told is that he feasted and dressed in fine clothing. Should he go to hell for that? Well, he did sin…He committed a sin most of us don’t even think about. It is the sin of omission. The rich man chose not to see Lazarus at his doorstep. He just did not see him. He was spiritually blind, spiritually unaware. This parable challenges you and me to look around and see, and to act on what we see .It prompts us to turn down the noise, pause from the rat race, put aside our own preoccupations—and notice Lazarus at the door. And to do something. Here are some practical suggestions: 1. Reflect. What does where you spend money say about your priorities? 2. Tithe. Give a fixed percentage of your income to your church and to the poor. 3. Create a "charity bin" in your home. Every time you go shopping, buy something(non-perishable) to drop in the bin. When it is full, take it to the nearest church or soup kitchen that has the resources to distribute it to the poor. 4. Show by example, and teach your children that no matter how little they have, some of that belongs to others. Take them to someplace where they can see how privileged they are to have a home and food and schooling….. 5. Adopt a family charity 6. Have family talks about limiting consumption of luxuries Inspired by a homily for 26 Sunday B in the Word In and Out of Season by Father William Bausch

Meditation in the Dominican Style/Asking Questions:

Many of the famous sayings of Jesus have been arranged according to topic and grouped together in what has come to us as the Beatitudes. These words of Jesus are considered so important, so pivotal, that scholars and spiritual leaders have spent centuries discussing their meaning and their application. There are over 8000 books available on Amazon. com alone! The beatitudes comprise sort of a keynote address, and the very first lines set the tone for the entire selection. What if Jesus had taken his first lines from his observation of the way our modern world sometimes words? They might go something like this: Blessed are the rich and famous, for they shall have what they want. Blessed are they who cut their losses, and get rid of the losers; they will live to win another day Blessed are the and powerful, they will inherit the earth Blessed are the white and well educated, the world is theirs Blessed are they who cry for vengeance, they will be seen as protectors of society Blessed are they who cultivate the right people, they will go far Blessed are they who tailor their morals to meet the marketplace, they will be rewarded. Blessed are Americans for they shall have the earth's riches at their beck and call. (adapted from Fr. Jude Siciliano, O.P.) Where in these “beatitudes” is the room for the poor, the unfortunate? Those who have made mistakes in judgement about their career? Are my successes, my possessions, seen as gifts from God, or do they distract me from recognizing my radical dependence on God alone? Where, in our worldly “beatitudes”, do we see a concern for the poor as an absolute mandate? If I were to write a list of ideas I live by in eight short sentences, what would they be, and where do the silent poor fit in?

Poetic Reflection:

Sometimes, when we see someone among us who is down on his or her luck, or really desperate, we don’t see them as invisible. Worse, we can dismiss them from our consciousness if we see them as culpable in their own misery. This poem, written by a one-time welfare mother, dispels that notion:

My name is not “Those People.”
I am a loving woman,
a mother in pain, giving birth to the future,
where my babies have the same chance to thrive as anyone.

My name is not “Inadequate.”
I did not make my husband leave—he chose to,
and chooses not to pay child support.
Truth is though, there isn’t a job base for all
fathers to support their families.
While society turns its head, my children pay the price.

My name is not “Problem and Case to Be Managed.”
I am a capable human being and citizen, not a client.
The social service system can never replace the compassion
and concern of loving Grandparents, Aunts, Uncles, Fathers,
Cousins, Community—all the bonded people who need to be
but are not present to bring children forward to their potential.

My name is not “Lazy, Dependent Welfare Mother.”
If the unwaged work of parenting, homemaking and community building
was factored into the Gross National Product, my work would have untold value.
And I wonder why my middle-class sisters whose husbands support them to raise their children
are glorified—and they don’t get called lazy and dependent.

My name is not “Ignorant, Dumb or Uneducated.”
I live with an income of $621 with $169 in food stamps.
Rent is $585. that leaves $36 a month to live on.
I am such a genius at surviving that I could balance the state budget in an hour.
Never mind that there is a lack of living-wage jobs.
Never mind that it is impossible to be the sole emotional, social and economic support to a family.
Never mind that parents are losing their children
to the gangs, drugs, stealing, prostitution, social workers, kidnapping, the streets, the predator.
Forget about putting money into schools—just build more prisons.

My name is not “Lay Down and Die Quietly.”
My love is powerful and my urge to keep my children alive will never stop.
All children need homes and people who love them.
They need safety and the chance to be the people they were born to be.
The wind will stop before I let my children become a statistic.
Before you give in to the urge to blame me,
the blames that lets us go blind and unknowing into
the isolation that disconnects us, take another look.
Don’t go away.

For I am not the problem, but the solution.

And…My name is not “Those People.”

—Julia Dinsmore

Closing Prayer

Help us to remember what matters most in the midst of all we have to do. Give us eyes to see the needs of those around us. Give us ears that hear the meaning behind the words, Give us hands that reach out to make a difference. Give us hearts that beat in tune with Yours rather than with the clock on the wall. Remind us often that time and good are to be given, not spent.

25th Sunday in Ordinary Time, September 18, 2022

We have to choose between the values of Jesus and the values of the world

Luke 16: 1–13

Then he also said to his disciples, “A rich man had a steward who was reported to him for squandering his property.

He summoned him and said, ‘What is this I hear about you? Prepare a full account of your stewardship, because you can no longer be my steward.’

The steward said to himself, ‘What shall I do, now that my master is taking the position of steward away from me? I am not strong enough to dig and I am ashamed to beg.

I know what I shall do so that, when I am removed from the stewardship, they may welcome me into their homes.’

He called in his master’s debtors one by one. To the first he said, ‘How much do you owe my master?’

He replied, ‘One hundred measures of olive oil.’ He said to him, ‘Here is your promissory note. Sit down and quickly write one for fifty.’

Then to another he said, ‘And you, how much do you owe?’ He replied, ‘One hundred kors of wheat.’ He said to him, ‘Here is your promissory note; write one for eighty.’

And the master commended that dishonest steward for acting prudently.

“For the children of this world are more prudent in dealing with their own generation than are the children of light.

I tell you, make friends for yourselves with dishonest wealth, so that when it fails, you will be welcomed into eternal dwellings.

The person who is trustworthy in very small matters is also trustworthy in great ones; and the person who is dishonest in very small matters is also dishonest in great ones.

If, therefore, you are not trustworthy with dishonest wealth, who will trust you with true wealth?

If you are not trustworthy with what belongs to another, who will give you what is yours? No servant can serve two masters. He will either hate one and love the other, or be devoted to one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and mammon.”

Music Meditations

• My Worth Is Not in What I Own—Francisco Ortega
• Simple Gifts—Yo-Yo Ma and Alison Krauss
• Lead Me, Guide Me—Elvis Presley (!)
• Be Thou My Vision—Celtic Worship Band

Opening Prayer

Dear Lord, open our eyes to the ways of the world that frequently entice us to act in our own interests and not in the interest of the common good or the interest of another individual. Help us to know what to do when life gets difficult. We pray that you will guide us the next time it does.

Companions for the Journey

From “First Impressions”, 2007

The parable is the main feature, so let’s focus on it. The steward has been caught. We aren’t sure of his exact offense, but he has been reported for “squandering” the rich man’s property. He is in trouble and needs to act quickly and decisively. And he does. He reduces the debts owed the master. Hasn’t he acted dishonestly again? How can he be praised for that? This gospel passage has been a challenge to those who read and study the scriptures. It’s possible the steward was charging extra interest from the debtors, hoping to make a profit for himself. If so, by his discounting the debts he was eliminating his own dishonest gains. Since usury was forbidden by Jewish law, the steward was doing what he should have been doing in the first place as an observant Jew. Or, maybe the steward was eliminating the commission he would have rightfully received for himself. You can see why the sayings (8b-13) are placed after the parable. The first saying is certainly applicable, “the children of this world are more prudent with their own generation than are the children of the light.” The steward acted shrewdly in a crisis situation and for that he deserves praise.

Jesus may be suggesting that his followers will face another kind of urgency in their own generation. If Jesus continues his journey to Jerusalem and is punished and dies, what will his followers do in that crisis? Will they be “children of light” and have the wisdom to continue choosing Jesus and his ways in that and any other crisis they face? Or, will they be “children of the world” and go for the quick fix and the easy way out? What will we do when crisis occurs in our lives? It has and it will again. We hope we will be the “prudent” stewards who take serious stock of the situation and once again turn towards the light.

The parable invites us to examine our use of material possessions. One of the central themes in Luke’s gospel is the suspicion Jesus conveys towards worldly wealth. Material things can trap us and divert our attention from what truly matters in life. Haven’t we seen families divided over possessions and inheritances; marriages ruined by a spouse preoccupied with business dealings; wars fought over land and resources; lives ruined for the sake of the “bottom line,” etc. We can “make friends with dishonest wealth.” There are wealthy people in Luke’s gospel who seem to follow the thrust of the parable and make wise use of their time and their wealth. They use their possessions to serve Jesus as “children of light.” E.g. the woman who anointed Jesus with expensive ointment (7:36 ff) and Zaccheus, who gave half his possessions for the sake of the poor (19:18).

People in gospel times and now have figured out how to use their resources in God’s service. Stirred by teachings like today’s gospel, they have decided to act quickly and decisively when occasions arise. Not because they gave everything away, though some did, but because they never let “mammon” rule their lives or be the sole guide for their decisions. For example. Smart business people have financed and helped train the unemployed so that they could find work and support their families. Others have helped the elderly organize their finances so that they could pay for crucial medications and health care. Lawyers have argued cases for those who couldn’t afford to pay them. Teachers have donated after-school hours to kids who need a hand to catch up. We have many kinds of resources that can be used—guided by Jesus’ wisdom. The gospel gives us an example of someone who knew what he had to do in a crisis situation and Jesus directs us to act quickly and behave similarly—but under the direction of “the light.”

As we examine the complexities of the parable, its subsequent sayings and its social and cultural aspects, we can get side tracked in studious details and miss the obvious impact of Jesus’ images and words. He is asking us about our fundamental choices and loyalties. He wants to know who or what comes first in our lives. If, after reflection, we discover that we have been acting more like “children of this world” and less like “children of the light,” then this parable can serve as an impetus to “set things right.” It also advises us to be quick about it! To put it crassly, God’s and only God’s business should be first in our lives.

Weekly Memorization

Taken from the gospel for today’s session…

The person who is untrustworthy in very small matters is also untrustworthy in great ones

Living the Good News

What action can you take in the next week as a response to today’s reading and discussion?

Keep a private journal of your prayer/actions responses this week. Feel free to use the personal reflection questions or the meditations which follow:

Reflection Questions

• Some of Jesus’ teachings are difficult to hear and difficult to understand. How do I react when I come across a difficult passage in scripture?
  Do I take it absolutely literally, no matter the obvious impracticality?
  Do I try to manipulate the meaning so it is easier for me to swallow?
  Is there a third way?
• Who are children of the world and what are their values?
  Who are children of the light, and what are their values?
  Which is harder to live by?
• Like the steward in the parable, when we face a crisis we often have a choice between the way of the world and the way of the light. Has this ever happened to me?
  What did I choose?
• What do I mean by the word “shrewd”?
  Is shrewdness a good thing?
• We are all stewards of the resources we have been given. Have I used my resources wisely, for others as well as myself and mine?
• Do I only focus on those in our society who have more than I do, and has this caused resentment or a carelessness with goods belonging to others?
  Have I truly been careful with someone else’s property?
  Have I ever borrowed something and never quite remembered to give it back?
• Do I give to those who have less, or do I hoard gifts and goods for myself and mine?
• I am also a steward of the earth. What have I done to protect and preserve this planet and all creatures in it?
• Like the steward with his master, do I take stock of where I stand with God?
• Has honesty been perverted in our society?
  Are there individuals and companies who engage in dishonest practices for personal gain?
• Do we speak of “little white lies” as if they were not lies at all?
  Have I ever played fast and loose with the truth to get what I wanted?
  Have I ever played fast and loose with the truth at the expense of someone else?

Meditations

A Meditation in the Ignatian Style/Imagination:

Imagine yourself as the person who fell afoul of the boss and got dismissed. You do not have any particular talents. What will you do to support yourself? Might it be smart to go to the various vendors of the company you work for and try to strike a deal? To what lengths would you be willing to go to gain new employment? (Would you take a list of clients with you, or take some information that might be proprietary but would help you get ahead in the new company? Would you take a few key employees and set yourself up as a competitor?) To what extent are you careful of another’s property? Ever cheat on an exam? Copy someone’s problem set? Tell the teacher the dog ate your homework? How about copyright laws—did you ever make a copy of a song, a presentation, a speech owned by someone else? Make a copy from a book without the writer’s permission? Where do we draw the line for personal integrity? Is it somewhat fluid? Are there any areas in your life that you need to examine in this regard?

A Meditation in the Augustinian Style/Relationship:

Psalms are very personal conversations with one’s God. The people of Israel were not hesitant to complain to God about the unfairness of the world and their anger and despair over the treachery of others. These psalms of lament are among the most honest prayers in scripture. Read Psalm 12 and then compose your own psalm about the economic world we inhabit, and hat is valued in our society.

Psalm 12

Save me, O LORD, for the holy ones are no more; the faithful have vanished from the sons of men. They babble vanities, one to another, with cunning lips, with divided heart. May the LORD destroy all cunning lips, the tongue that utters boastful words, those who say, “We prevail with our tongue; our lips are our own, who is our master?” “For the poor who are oppressed and the needy who groan, now will I arise,” says the LORD; “I will grant them the salvation for which they long.” The words of the LORD are words without alloy, silver from the furnace, seven times refined. It is you, O LORD, who will keep us safe, and protect us forever from this generation. The wicked prowl on every side, while baseness is exalted by the sons of men.

Poetic Reflection:

For Mary Oliver, what seems to be the values to live by? What is the role of gratitude in becoming “children of the light” as opposed to “children of the age”?

“Messenger”

My work is loving the world.
Here the sunflowers, there the hummingbird—
equal seekers of sweetness.
Here the quickening yeast; there the blue plums.
Here the clam deep in the speckled sand.

Are my boots old? Is my coat torn?
Am I no longer young, and still half-perfect? Let me
keep my mind on what matters,
which is my work,

which is mostly standing still and learning to be
astonished.
The phoebe, the delphinium.
The sheep in the pasture, and the pasture.
Which is mostly rejoicing, since all the ingredients are here,

which is gratitude, to be given a mind and a heart
and these body-clothes,
a mouth with which to give shouts of joy
to the moth and the wren, to the sleepy dug-up clam,
telling them all, over and over, how it is
that we live forever.

Closing Prayer

Dear Lord, help me always to choose to act with integrity. Help me to see that if something is a little bit wrong, it is still wrong. Period. Help me to have courage when I feel desperate or trapped in a situation, whether that situation is of my own making or the result of circumstances beyond my control. Help me to keep you as a lodestar in all that I do.

24th Sunday in Ordinary Time, September 11, 2022

God never takes us for granted, and will always search for us when we have strayed

Luke 15: 1–32

The tax collectors and sinners were all drawing near to listen to him, but the Pharisees and scribes began to complain, saying, “This man welcomes sinners and eats with them.” So to them he addressed this parable.

“What man among you having a hundred sheep and losing one of them would not leave the ninety-nine in the desert and go after the lost one until he finds it?

And when he does find it, he sets it on his shoulders with great joy and, upon his arrival home, he calls together his friends and neighbors and says to them, ‘Rejoice with me because I have found my lost sheep.’ I tell you, in just the same way there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous people who have no need of repentance.

“Or what woman having ten coins and losing one would not light a lamp and sweep the house, searching carefully until she finds it?

And when she does find it, she calls together her friends and neighbors and says to them, ‘Rejoice with me because I have found the coin that I lost.’

In just the same way, I tell you, there will be rejoicing among the angels of God over one sinner who repents.”

Then he said, “A man had two sons, and the younger son said to his father, ‘Father, give me the share of your estate that should come to me.’ So the father divided the property between them.

After a few days, the younger son collected all his belongings and set off to a distant country where he squandered his inheritance on a life of dissipation.

When he had freely spent everything, a severe famine struck that country, and he found himself in dire need.

So he hired himself out to one of the local citizens who sent him to his farm to tend the swine.

And he longed to eat his fill of the pods on which the swine fed, but nobody gave him any.

Coming to his senses he thought, ‘How many of my father’s hired workers have more than enough food to eat, but here am I, dying from hunger.

I shall get up and go to my father and I shall say to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you.

I no longer deserve to be called your son; treat me as you would treat one of your hired workers.”’ So he got up and went back to his father. While he was still a long way off, his father caught sight of him, and was filled with compassion. He ran to his son, embraced him and kissed him.

His son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you; I no longer deserve to be called your son.’

But his father ordered his servants, ‘Quickly bring the finest robe and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet.

Take the fattened calf and slaughter it. Then let us celebrate with a feast, because this son of mine was dead, and has come to life again; he was lost, and has been found.’ Then the celebration began.

Now the older son had been out in the field and, on his way back, as he neared the house, he heard the sound of music and dancing.

He called one of the servants and asked what this might mean.

The servant said to him, ‘Your brother has returned and your father has slaughtered the fattened calf because he has him back safe and sound.’

He became angry, and when he refused to enter the house, his father came out and pleaded with him.

He said to his father in reply, ‘Look, all these years I served you and not once did I disobey your orders; yet you never gave me even a young goat to feast on with my friends.

But when your son returns who swallowed up your property with prostitutes, for him you slaughter the fattened calf.’

He said to him, ‘My son, you are here with me always; everything I have is yours.

But now we must celebrate and rejoice, because your brother was dead and has come to life again; he was lost and has been found.’”

Music Meditations

• Going Home—Bryn Terfel
• Great Is Thy Faithfulness—Selah
• Turn to Me—John Foley
• Wonderful, Merciful Savior—Selah
• I Heard the Voice of Jesus Say—sung by Choir of Manchester Cathedral

Opening Prayer

Lord, you have no favorites. You understand that some people need more patience and understanding than others. You understand that sometimes we are especially needy and selfish in what we desire from you or those in our life. You understand that we are, most of the time, simply doing the best we can. Help us extend that understanding to those we live with, work with, sometimes tangle with. Help us extend that understanding to ourselves so that we can bask in the joy that is your steadfast caring, forgiveness, and love.

Companions for the Journey

From a Homily by Deacon John Kerrigan for the fourth Sunday of Lent, 2019:

Let’s start today with a short quiz. Which of the following stories captures the themes of betrayal, shame, repentance and conversion?

1. The Broadway-musical, “Dear Evan Hansen”?
2. The tale of the Prodigal Son?
3. The journey of your life and mine?
4. All of the above?

Option A: Based on a true incident, the musical, “Dear Evan Hansen” has been playing to sold-out audiences on Broadway for three years. It focuses on a 17 year-old boy who, like many of us, is a citizen of two worlds, two different realities separated by the thin veil of a laptop screen.

Evan suffers from debilitating anxiety, and struggles to make friends. He describes his life as, “a slideshow of catastrophes and worst-case scenarios.”

This young man’s desperate search for affection, or actually just attention, gets him into serious trouble. A letter that he has written to himself—part of a self-awareness assignment from his therapist—“Dear Evan Hansen” it began—ends up in the taunting hands of the school’s bully, Connor Murphy. Tragically, Connor takes his own life a short time afterwards.

The substance of the play centers around the aftermath of Connor’s suicide. Through a series of misunderstandings and lies, Evan comes to be seen as Connor’s only friend. News of the relationship soon explodes on social media. For the first time in his life, Evan gets noticed, and is seen, even if briefly, as a hero.

The deception, however, soon unravels, as Evan’s dishonesty is magnified by thousands of texts and posts that appear on Facebook and Instagram. Evan’s life becomes a shambles. In his shame, he cries out, “I am alone to the core. Broken. How could I fool myself into thinking I deserved anything close to happiness?”

Fortunately for Evan, and for all of us, there is a heroine in the midst of all this angst: Evan’s mother, Heidi. At his moment of darkest despair—when he declares, “I am a nothing!”—Heidi says to him, “Evan, talk to me. It’s not a command. It’s a welcome mat.” Thankfully, he does eventually reach out to her. Expressing his gratitude, he tells her, “You stuck with me. The mess that I am.”

For anyone who has ever sat alone at lunch or been ostracized in some other way, “Dear Evan Hansen” has a most enduring message; it’s found in the title of one of the play’s most powerful songs: “You Will Be Found.”

Now, let’s look at Option B. Do the themes of betrayal, shame, repentance and conversion characterize the tale of the Prodigal Son?

As the story begins to unfold, we find Jesus hanging out with people of doubtful reputations—prostitutes and the destitute. You can easily imagine characters like Evan Hansen and Connor Murphy joining this crowd, and all of them listening to the message of the Lord. Surrounding this group of misfits are some of the supposedly upright members of society: Pharisees and Scribes, harrumphing, tut-tutting, and muttering to themselves.

The big surprise of this tale, however, is the fact that it’s less a story about repentance than it is about being found by a God who is willing to go out searching for us; less about anything you and I do, and so much more about the unconditional love of the Almighty.

Picture the scene: the son on the road back to his father’s house, ashamed and memorizing his lines: “Father, I have sinned against-heaven and before you. I no longer deserve to be called your son.” “Father, I’ve sinned…”

Meanwhile, the father isn’t moping around inside the house, peeking through the drapes and saying to himself, “Hey, there goes that bum, formerly known as my son!” No, the father is outside seeking and searching. And when he spies his ragged and exhausted son, he runs to him and embraces him. He will hear none of his “I’m so very sorry speech,” and instead instructs his servants to bring the finest robe, a ring and sandals for this son of his. And then he plans a banquet, a celebration. The father is thrilled that his son has come home. We can almost hear the music and words from the song “You Will Be Found,” playing in the background.

What’s the point of Jesus’ parable? That repentance isn’t about climbing a ladder of shame and sorrow; instead, it’s about the joy of being found by a loving God who is always on the lookout for us.

In this tale of the prodigal son, the father, by word and action, communicates a message that God longs to share with each of us: “You need not cower, for you are very precious to me, and not because you never sin.” The story makes this fact crystal clear: the wayward son never lost his father’s love. Likewise, we can never really lose God’s love. Sure, we can go rogue, but God is willing to absorb the losses that we inflict. Recall Evan Hansen’s mother’s loving words: “Evan, talk to me. It’s not a command. It’s a welcome mat.” God will always stick with you and me, the messes in which we often find ourselves notwithstanding.

The people of Jesus’ day, those who heard this parable firsthand, would have been scandalized by the Lord’s description of God as being like this loving and forgiving father. And many of us might also find ourselves somewhat shocked by the very same description. For while we know that Jesus preached and practiced the forgiveness of sin, too many in today’s Church put the emphasis on the prevention of sin rather than on mercy. And yet, compassion and mercy are at the very heart of the gospel message.

What about Option C? Do the themes of betrayal, shame, repentance and conversion characterize the journey of your life and mine?

Let me begin to answer that question from a personal point of view. Although the events of my life are not quite as dramatic as the experiences of the prodigal son, they often resemble the ups and downs of the Grand Tetons mountain range in Yellowstone Park: I sometimes betray my ideals, allow my false self to dominate, have to “come back to myself” in regret and repentance, and rely on the glory of forgiveness and conversion. I’m also a little embarrassed to have to ADMIT that this cycle occurs over and over!

For a moment, consider the peaks and valleys of your own life’s journey. Isn’t it often the story of wandering far afield in order to ultimately come home to a great reconciliation? In a sense, this is the story of humanity-at-large, as well as the tale of our individual journeys.

How many of you would vote for Option D? All of the above? If that’s the case, just what are the implications of today’s Gospel for your life and mine?

We know that Lent is a time during which our lives can be transformed; due to God’s grace, you and I are offered an opportunity to deepen our understanding about the life that the Almighty longs to share with each of us. All of our readings today remind us of that possibility.

And so, let’s have a change of heart, and pledge to be HERALDS of God’s mercy, both to ourselves and to all whose lives we touch each day. Having experienced the Lord’s love first hand, may our lives and our words proclaim the message of today’s gospel, the message that transformed the life of the prodigal son: “You will be found.”

Weekly Memorization

Taken from the gospel for today’s session…

But now we must celebrate and rejoice because your brother who was dead has come to life again; he was lost and has been found

Living the Good News

What action can you take in the next week as a response to today’s reading and discussion?

Keep a private journal of your prayer/actions responses this week. Feel free to use the personal reflection questions or the meditations which follow:

Reflection Questions

• Some people have said that to extend compassion or forgiveness to someone who has hurt someone else somehow demeans or trivializes the suffering of the victim. Do you agree or disagree?
  How do you think Jesus felt about this issue?
• When Jesus was on the cross he forgave his killers. How hard was this?
  Why did he do so?
• If you were Jesus, what would you have said to Peter when you met him by the lake after his resurrection? (Check out John 21:15-19 to see what he actually said 3 times)
• Have you ever been on the other end of someone’s forgiveness when it did not seem like forgiveness at all? Did it harm your relationship in any way?
• How do you fit the first examples of the lost sheep and the lost coin in with the parable of the two lost sons and the father?
  What does Jesus seem to be saying about God’s persistence in forgiving us and welcoming us?
  In my life, have I ever sought out someone who has hurt me and tried to reconcile?
  Did I do so by reminding them why I was hurt in the first place?
• In what ways is the younger son in need of forgiveness?
  Have I ever hurt someone, regretted it, and tried to find my way back into the relationship?
  What made it hard—my bad deed or the anger of the person whom I hurt?
• In what ways is the elder son in need of forgiveness?
  Have I ever resented it when a sibling got away with things I never would have thought of doing?
  Am I angry when someone bends the rules and never seems to get caught?
  Have I ever resented it when someone who didn’t deserve it got a second or third chance?
  Did my anger also spill over onto the person extending that second or third chance?
  Did I gloat or did I ever say “I told you so” when someone disappointed his mother or her boss again?
  Do I believe that God understands and is willing to forgive me my smallness and resentment?
• In what ways is the father in need of forgiveness?
  Have I ever inadvertently shown favoritism to a friend, a relative or a co-worker who then took advantage of me?
  Are there certain people in my life I am more disposed to give a second chance?
• This is a parable, not a metaphor. So God is not exactly like the father in the story. What qualities of the father do not resemble the God I know and believe in?
  What qualities of the father resemble the God I know and believe in?
  Do I believe God understands both my smallness and my big mistakes?
• From “Faith Book” 2013, a service of the Southern Dominican Province:
  Do today’s parables reflect your image of God, or do they challenge you to reconsider how you have thought about and prayed to God?
  How do you think you can put flesh on today’s parables by your own behavior?

Meditations

A Meditation in the Dominican Style/Asking Questions:

Adapted from First Impressions, a service of the Southern Dominican Province: God is relentless—searching for us until we come home. God will never give up on us, as unimportant was we might be to the universe. The parables aren’t just about how God acts. They are initially. But they then call for a response from us. For example: Perhaps we shouldn’t give up on those whom others consider hopeless or useless... Where do we need to reconsider a person or situation we have labeled “hopeless” by adding the possibility of grace to the mixture?... Are there people who experience rejections because of church laws or customs whom the parables suggest to us, “Look again and reconsider your position”?... How exclusive am I? Who is in and who is automatically out of my circle of family and friends?... Is there anyone person or group I need to go out of my way to reach out to? All of us need to reconsider our attitudes and choices in the light of these parables. It is a lot to expect us to shift our world view or change attitudes we have had since childhood. But these parables are tales of an over-abundance of grace. Hey, anything is possible! God doesn’t give up on the most recalcitrant sinner. God won’t give up on us either, “until” we see with new eyes and hear with new ears.

A Meditation in the Augustinian Style/Relationship:

One of the marks of Luke’s gospel is its repeated pronouncement of God’s mercy. Today’s parables, which comprise the whole of chapter 15, are a good example of Luke’s theme of mercy, suggested in the connecting words “lost,” “found” and “celebrate/rejoice.” A shepherd foolishly leaves 99 sheep in the desert to go look for the one lost. A woman searches throughout her home for a lost coin. A father puts aside his dignity and reputation among his peers when he spots and rushes out to greet his lost son returning home. It’s hard not to draw parallels between the focus characters in the parables and God.  It is also bold and risky to do it. But Jesus does so should we. The central figures lead us to conclude that God foolishly takes risks for us, persistently searches for us and overdoes generosity, forgiving us and welcoming us home. God not only lets us in the house, but warmly embraces us and throws a feast on our behalf. Speak to Jesus about the love God has for you, about how that love encompasses you and make you feel safe. Try to rest in the firm conviction that God will never let you go, and will love you with an everlasting love. Can I let God say to me: “You are always with me, and all that I have is yours”?

A Meditation in the Ignatian Style/Imagination

I remember a time when I was waiting for a teenager and two friends to return from an afternoon of skiing, and as it got darker and darker, and the last stragglers came down off the hill without my child and his friends being among them, I recall the panic I felt. Everybody began going around to various return points at the ski resort, all to no avail. We could think of nothing but the worst scenario---somebody had broken a leg and they were all trapped up there in the dark. Or. There was an avalanche and all were buried. Our anxiety got worse and worse, making it impossible to think rationally. The ski lifts were closed, so we could not go to the top and search ourselves. We called out the ski patrol and anxiously waited and waited for a sign of hope. About an hour later, as it was almost totally dark, three wobbly skiers and a ski patrol contingent finally approached the base of the mountain. After running to hug them and yell at them, we determined how they had gotten lost on the final ski run down after all the lifts had closed. I think about God, like the father in the parable, has the grace to let me go and find my own way—to get lost even. I wonder how God feels , when we are wandering in a semi-darkness of our own making, not checking in with a quick prayer once in a while. What I do know is that God never gives up, never goes away, and will not only wait for my wobbly arrival, but actually go out to search for me, always welcoming me home. Spend some time by yourself, reflecting on how God is constantly waiting for you, going out to look for you in the worst corners of your soul, and will never let you go. What can you do in return?

Poetic Reflection:

Slowly, slowly
Comes Christ through the garden
Speaking to the sacred trees
Their branches bear his light
Without harm

Slowly, slowly
Comes Christ through the ruins
Seeking the lost disciple
A timid one
Too literate
To believe words
So he hides
Christ rises on the cornfields
It is only the harvest moon
The disciple
Turns over in his sleep
And murmurs:
“My regret!”

The disciple will awaken
When he knows history
But slowly, slowly
The Lord of History weeps into the fire

—Thomas Merton “Cables to the Ace” (stanza 80)

Poetic Reflection:

“The Hound of Heaven”

I fled Him, down the nights and down the days;
I fled Him, down the arches of the years;
I fled Him, down the labyrinthine ways
Of my own mind; and in the midst of tears
I hid from Him, and under running laughter.
Up vistaed hopes I sped;
And shot, precipitated,
Adown Titanic glooms of chasmed fears,
From those strong Feet that followed, followed after.
But with unhurrying chase,
And unperturbed pace,
Deliberate speed, majestic instancy,
They beat and a Voice beat
More instant than the Feet
'All things betray thee, who betrayest Me'.
I pleaded, outlaw-wise,
By many a hearted casement, curtained red,
Trellised with intertwining charities;
(For, though I knew His love Who followed,
Yet was I sore adread
Lest, having Him, I must have naught beside.)

—Francis Thompson

Closing Prayer

I ask you Lord, to be patient with me; extend your mercy and compassion toward me. Help me to understand that you will never leave me, never forsake me, that you always seek me out because you love me so much. Teach me to meet other with the same love, forgiveness and compassion.

23rd Sunday in Ordinary Time, September 4, 2022

The real cost of discipleship

Luke 14: 25–33

Large crowds were traveling with Jesus, and turning to them he said: “If anyone comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters—yes, even their own life—such a person cannot be my disciple. And whoever does not carry their cross and follow me cannot be my disciple.

“Suppose one of you wants to build a tower. Won’t you first sit down and estimate the cost to see if you have enough money to complete it? For if you lay the foundation and are not able to finish it, everyone who sees it will ridicule you, saying, ‘This person began to build and wasn’t able to finish.’

“Or suppose a king is about to go to war against another king. Won’t he first sit down and consider whether he is able with ten thousand men to oppose the one coming against him with twenty thousand? If he is not able, he will send a delegation while the other is still a long way off and will ask for terms of peace. In the same way, those of you who do not give up everything you have cannot be my disciples.”

Music Meditations

• All That I Am—Sebastian Temple
• The Summons—Robert Kolchis
• Be Thou My Vision—Nathan Pacheco
• All That I Am, All That I Have—Divine Hymns

Opening Prayer

Teach me, O Lord, to have trust in your love and goodness. I ask you to show me what I am holding onto too tightly to be your true disciple. Teach me not to invest my whole life in people or approval or things that increase my pleasure and personal comfort at the expense of others or the world at large. Teach me not to settle for the comfort and security that keeps me from hearing your call.

Companions for the Journey

By Jude Siciliano, O.P., from “First Impressions”: I will be tempted to apologize to the congregation this Sunday after I read this gospel passage. What a “turn off” it is with its talk of “hating father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sister and even [your] own life;” and then it asks us to “renounce all your possession,” if we are to be Jesus’ disciples. On first hearing the passage listeners are going to think Jesus inhabited another planet. He certainly sounds far removed from our lives, we who do all we can to: love our parents, especially as they age or become infirm. We agonize over how to best care for them—take them into our homes? bring in home care? place them in a nursing home? We supervise their medications, take them for innumerable medical procedures and checkups, visit them as much as possible, make frequent phone calls, etc. So what is all this talk about “hating” parents? And what’s all this talk about “hating” wives? (I suppose here he really means spouses.) With divorce rates approaching 50% in our country and dioceses and parishes doing their best, both before and after weddings, to foster healthy marriages and keep them in tack. How is “hating” your spouse going to sound to married couples in the congregation and those hoping to get married? The list of “hatings” goes on in this reading, but you get the point. Could Jesus really mean such harsh sounding statements? And if he does, are we ready to renounce all possessions to follow him? Do we know anyone who has? And if they have, who is buying their food, paying their health insurance and housing them? This is an obvious place for a little research and so I go to the biblical commentaries for help. The word for “hate” is taken from the Greek word that is used in biblical passages to suggest a lesser love. It doesn’t refer to the rage and fury that hate signifies in our language. It could mean having a secondary attachment to someone or thing, the kind of detachment that would enable a person to turn away from whomever or whatever distracts them from following Jesus and the demands of discipleship. God wants us to love and that certainly includes our families and spouses. Remember, Jesus called his disciples to love even enemies; he certainly would include in that love those closest to us, like parents, spouses, children and brothers and sisters. Notice that he mentions the cross right after speaking about “hating.” To bear the cross here doesn’t mean putting up with those afflictions in life over which we have little say. Rather, we can see from the context that we may experience pain as we make choices to stay the course--- to continue with Jesus on the road to Jerusalem and suffering. Having said all this, Jesus is still placing demands on those who would join him on his journey. Let’s not presume the listeners in Jesus’ day were any less put off by what Jesus just said. They may have been poor, but they cherished possessions too and, like us, probably wanted or needed more of them. Family life, if anything, was even more precious to Jesus’ contemporaries. While we prize individuality and being able to “go it on our own,” at that time, a person’s very identity depended on membership in family, clan and religious sect. Prestige and reputation were intimately linked to the social standing people had in their social network. If a person at that time packed up and decided to set out on their own—they would, in effect, lose their identity. Earlier in this gospel Jesus spelled out what characterized the new family relationship he came to establish. His new family would be those who hear and respond to God’s word (8:21; 11:27-28). So, if we are to be part of this new family, other ties and allegiances are to be secondary and even put aside, if necessary. As his followers we are in a new network of relationships, a new family that consists of those who have, like us, chosen to follow Jesus. In this family we will be mixing it up with a whole new set of people—those with and those without wealth and social status. We heard two weeks ago that “some are last who will be first, and some are first who will be last.” Jesus has come to establish something very different from our usual ways of relating. Obviously it is not going to be “business as usual.” This new mixture will be quite a shock to the system of those who were well-connected in life. Reminds me of the day I was walking through the prison yard with some new volunteers. They were friends from a nearby parish and had given up their Sunday morning with family and friends to worship with inmates at the prison chapel. One looked around at the scene of hundreds of inmates milling around in the yard we were walking through and said to me, “this is really stretching me.” There it was—“stretching!” What he was saying was, how strange he found it, coming from his family and social background, to be in such a very different place. And pretty soon he was going to be celebrating mass with some of them! You could almost hear him saying to himself, “How did I get here anyway?” Following Jesus is what got him away for his familiar setting to “stretch” into a new world. He continued visiting the prison monthly and came to know a whole new family, people he would later refer to as “my brothers at the prison.” Quite a stretch! But not to be entered into lightly, Jesus warns us. Think it over, Jesus says. Be like a person who is about to build a tower—will you be able to finish the job? Be like a king going to battle and “decide” if you can win the battle with the resources you have. Notice the examples Jesus uses—“building” and “marching into battle.” The first suggests a long project. We Christians are in a building process, the job feels half done at times as we look at our shortcomings and inadequacies in discipleship. We are not yet the model, generous and self-sacrificing disciples we ought to be. Well, don’t lose hope, the tower project isn’t finished yet. Or, as the saying goes, “Be patient with me, God isn’t done with me yet.” The battle metaphor also gives us cause to pause and “decide” if we want to make the sacrifices needed to be a disciple. It is a harsh metaphor, in this present time of war, but it does suggest the arduous efforts and even pain sometimes asked of disciples. Even though we have already given our “Yes” to following Christ, there are times in our lives when we are asked to make choices that put our discipleship on the line. Some options require us to say “No” to what seems like attractive or easier ways of acting. These choices may put us at odds with family, friends or our surrounding culture; but we know we must choose in ways that echo the gospel we believe. At these times, today’s reading reminds us that we are in the midst of building a tower and that there is more to be done on the project. Or again, that we are in a battle and we need to gather our resources if we are to succeed. Do we have enough to make the right decisions, pay the price, endure the subsequent consequences of our choices? Probably not—but then, none of us have enough resolve, wisdom and strength on our own. That is why we come to church, gather with one another to hear the Word and then draw close to be fed from the table. Look around at who is here with us, people we don’t usually see during the week, or socialize with on weekends. But here we are in a most cherished and important place, and whatever the political persuasion or economic and social status of those with us—nevertheless, we are a new kind of family, with people we now call sisters and brothers. That stretches us, doesn’t it? Just as Jesus predicted when he invited the crowds he met on the road to turn towards him and make him the priority of their lives.

Weekly Memorization

Taken from the gospel for today’s session…

"If you do not carry your own cross and come after me, you cannot be my disciple."

Living the Good News

What action can you take in the next week as a response to today’s reading and discussion?

Keep a private journal of your prayer/actions responses this week. Feel free to use the personal reflection questions or the meditations which follow:

Reflection Questions

Jesus often uses hyperbole, a common form of rhetoric in those times. Is that what this is? Or does Jesus really mean “hate” our families and other loved ones? What do I think Jesus really means here? What does he mean by giving up all my possessions? How are my loved ones, my possessions, my accomplishments and my place in life a comfort zone for me? How willing am I to go out of my comfort zone to encounter Christ? Is there a way of life I am settling for, or is there an area of my life where it seems I am too comfortable to change? How does this apparent security hamper my freedom to be all that I can be? How does this security hamper me from becoming all that Jesus wants me to be? If I am surrounded by comfort, and people, and possessions, how hard is it for me to imagine what it is like to be forced from my home or my native land, by war, violence or poverty and fetch up in a new place alone, defenseless, and without anything? In another gospel, Jesus saw a young man go away sad, for his possessions got in the way of following Jesus. What possessions am I overly attached to? What position in my community, my work place or among my friends am I attached to? What people am I overly attached to? What, in short, are my priorities? Do I follow Jesus because my friends and family do? Do I follow Jesus out of fear or guilt? Did I ever stop to think that Jesus might want to be accompanied by friends who shared his mission instead of whining conscripts? Which am I? As the song says: “Freedom’s just another word for nothin’ left to lose”. In what ways am I not free because I think I have so much to lose? What in my life am I able to let go of to follow Jesus? Is there a particular cross I am asked to bear as I follow Jesus? Is it a big dramatic sacrifice or many daily little sacrifices? What part of my cross is in my own mind, based on my insecurities? Am I specifically asked to choose unhappiness, loneliness and sorrow in order to follow Christ? Have I looked carefully at the consequences of following Jesus? Am I realistic about any inconveniences or actual sacrifices I might be called to experience? Do I consider that following Jesus might not always give me the approval of friends and family, peace of mind, absolute certainty that I am doing the right thing, or even might not always give me spiritual comfort? What will be the cost to me of following Jesus? From Jenn Schaaf, Dominican Associate Campus Minister, Ohio Dominican University: Will you make the choice to follow Jesus? What will you have to give up in order to do so? What type of persecution might you face as a result of following Jesus? What types of persecution are others in the world facing? Do you truly believe that the Holy Spirit is given to you in guidance for “wisdom of heart”? What is the “upside” of following Jesus, even if there are sacrifices?

Meditations

A Meditation in the Dominican Style/Considering the Issues at Hand:

From Dr. Lanie LeBlanc O.P. Dominican Laity (In “First Impressions” vol. 2 from many years ago): The Gospel reading this week is one of those that we might feel like dismissing with a “Nah, Jesus didn’t really mean that.” It tells us that in order to be a disciple, we have to 1) hate our families, 2) hate our own life, 3) take up our own cross, and 4) renounce all of our possessions. Well, in the “I am really enthusiastic about doing that” category, I might earn 0 % and I think I might have a lot of company in the not-ready-for -prime-time -discipleship class. We know from experience, however, that Jesus does mean what He says so we have to figure out exactly what he meant for us to do... and try to do it enthusiastically. I’m not sure I can do that exactly, but I think that I see some commonality here. The common message in all four of those things is that Jesus must be our first priority. Jesus must come first before family members, our own agenda, our comfort, and our possessions. Our lives need to be spent in chipping away at those things that detract us from a focus on Jesus. For most of us, that is usually our family members, what we want to do, our comfort, and our possessions. Jesus knew what He was saying after all! So, how do I put that into practice and implement consistently? Do I get defeated because the task is so great? Could I start, incrementally, picking one area in which I can put Jesus first, even a little at a time? Can I identify the things that are pulling me away from Jesus? Is there one habit, association, preoccupation that I must learn to “hate” in order to be totally free to live the way of Jesus? I must learn to hate the things that pull me away from Jesus, even if they are as close to me as my family members or myself or the important “things” in my life. Trying to do that, with the mind of Jesus and His help, will be taking up my cross and following Him. He will become my focus and I will become His disciple.

A Meditation in the Ignatian Style/Imagination:

The community of believers was of one heart and mind, and no one claimed that any of his possessions was his own, but they had everything in common. There was no needy person among them, for those who owned property or houses would sell them, bring the proceeds of the sale, and put them at the feet of the apostles, and they were distributed to each according to need. Thus Joseph, also named by the apostles Barnabas (which is translated “son of encouragement”), a Levite, a Cypriot by birth, sold a piece of property that he owned, then brought the money and put it at the feet of the apostles.

I re-read the selection from Acts of the Apostles, chapter 4, and imagine myself in Jerusalem, a prospective follower of those who speak to me of Jesus, God’s Chosen One, who came to show us what God wants for us. I own a considerable piece of property and live comfortably, if not richly. I look around and see everyone in the group selling what they own and giving the proceeds to Peter for distribution to any who need anything. Am I ready to do this? How will I live? How will I feed my family? Worse, how will I tell my wife? How will I take care of my parents who depend upon me now that they are old and infirm? How do I balance my obligations to those I love, and my personal love of comfort with the pulI I am experiencing to follow Jesus radically? I then look at my own 21st century life, and what which gospel is asking me to examine. For example, what is keeping me imprisoned, in a way of life that does not seem to match what Jesus was calling those early believers to experience? What incremental choices can I can make to be more attuned to the mission Jesus is calling me to? What personal economic sacrifices am I willing to make to be generous to those who have less than I do, to be generous to causes that are noble, to my church? (For example, do I give out of my excess, that is, the little which is left over after necessities for me and my family and rewards for hard work are factored in? What exactly, do I or my family “need”? Do I tell myself “I am worth it” at lot?) From whom am I willing to distance myself because their influence is not healthy for my spiritual life? How much time do I actually spend talking to Jesus? I resolve to change just one habit or delusion about myself this week in an attempt to align myself with Jesus and his mission.

Poetic Reflection:

What does the poem by Father Michael Kennedy, S.J., tell me about taking Jesus at face value, about actually hearing what Jesus was saying so long ago?:

When Luke uses what We would call exaggeration As he has Jesus describe how The new disciples are to act and Where their priorities must be We tend to dismiss it because We still often refuse to take The Gospels on their own Terms and instead we Read them in light Of our images and Concepts and so Yet again we may Miss the point **** And of course He is Not asking for families to Be split apart nor for them To hate each other nor is He Really thinking that they should Go about being unprepared in even Little things but He is warning Them that truly nothing can Replace their commitment To Him and to the Ministry He will Entrust to them And which will Be demanding **** We are also in Trouble if we think of Discipleship as just another Workplace to be abandoned After hours on the job for this Jesus calls us to also be Christian (gasp) even On weekends **** © Michael J. Kennedy 2007

Closing Prayer

Dear Lord, help me take those steps that will lead me to participation in your Kingdom. Help me to turn away from anyone or anything that might hamper my journey. Help me to be generous of heart toward those who are struggling with these same issues. Above all, keep me on the path that leads ultimately to you.

22nd Sunday in Ordinary Time, August 28, 2022

What is true humility and why is it hard to attain?

Luke 14: 1, 7–14

On a sabbath he went to dine at the home of one of the leading Pharisees, and the people there were observing him carefully.

He told a parable to those who had been invited, noticing how they were choosing the places of honor at the table.

“When you are invited by someone to a wedding banquet, do not recline at table in the place of honor. A more distinguished guest than you may have been invited by him, and the host who invited both of you may approach you and say, ‘Give your place to this man,’ and then you would proceed with embarrassment to take the lowest place.

“Rather, when you are invited, go and take the lowest place so that when the host comes to you he may say, ‘My friend, move up to a higher position.’ Then you will enjoy the esteem of your companions at the table.

“For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted.”

Then he said to the host who invited him, “When you hold a lunch or a dinner, do not invite your friends or your brothers or your relatives or your wealthy neighbors, in case they may invite you back and you have repayment.

“Rather, when you hold a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind; blessed indeed will you be because of their inability to repay you. For you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous.”

Music Meditations

• The Lord Hears the Cry of the Poor—John Michael Talbot
• Blest Are They—David Haas
• We Are the Light of the World—John Anthony Greif

Opening Prayer

From “Living Space” a service of the Irish Jesuits, 2022:

Lord, you invite us to your table and ask us to live the truth of who you are and who we are, for that is humility. We pray for hearts that serve without counting the cost or looking for rewards.

Companions for the Journey

Jesus seems out of character in the advice he gives today to his host, “one of the leading Pharisees.” Is he assuming the role of a social consultant, advising ambitious people how to get ahead while avoiding public embarrassment?

If you want a higher or more prominent place at an important function then choose the lower seat. Then your host will publicly usher you to a higher place at the table. You’ll look great and everyone will note your moment of glory! Who wouldn’t want such an esteemed place and the admiring and envious glances of peers? So, is Jesus suggesting a pretense of humility to get the first place at important gatherings? This doesn’t sound like the Jesus who had a bad reputation for eating with the disreputable. His table companions certainly wouldn’t have merited for Jesus a, “Here, come up higher,” from a leading Pharisee. He is not suggesting a feint in the direction of humility to earn public esteem. He is doing what he has consistently done, teaching his disciples to be truly humble, putting aside ambition for worldly honors.

Jesus isn’t suggesting we slack off at school; or work less diligently at our jobs; or not accept compliments for the good things we do. He wants us to use our talents as best we can since they are gifts from God and will not only benefit us, but can be used for the well-being of others. But Jesus is reminding us that, behind all our attempts to work hard and do good for others, we must reflect on our reasons for doing what we do. As Christians we try to share the gifts of life we have, not so that we stand out, but so that others can stand up with us, relish life and celebrate the God who has blessed us.

Even more than now, in the ancient Near East, meals were guided by strict rules: the guests were carefully chosen; the foods specially selected; the seating arrangements scrupulously determined. There may not have been place cards, but people had their assigned places nevertheless. Jesus may have been the one invited to dine by his host, but before the meal even started, Jesus became the host, as he suggested a change in the rigid seating arrangements and instructed people about the seats they had chosen. Remember that this is a Sabbath meal. The very people Jesus says we should invited to a “banquet” are those who would have been excluded from the Sabbath meal at this distinguished Pharisee’s home, and possibly from the synagogue itself, because their social or physical condition would have labeled them as sinners. But the Sabbath meal was to be a place that celebrated God’s choice of an enslaved people and God’s gift of liberation for them. When God found them, the Israelites were slaves. God reversed their condition and invited them to the table. The Sabbath meal not only celebrated God’s gracious actions on their behalf, but it also reminded them that they were to do for others what had been done for them: free the enslaved; welcome the stranger; care for the children and protect the widows.

I am sure Jesus doesn’t want us to stop having meals and sharing special occasions with those nearest and dearest to us. That’s not what he means when he turns to the Pharisee who is hosting him and tells him to invite those to lunch or dinner who can’t return the favor. If we make a point to invite the least, “the poor, the crippled, the lame and the blind...,” then while at table with them, we might enter into new relationships. Not only would the poor be fed, but we would discover the Christ who identifies most closely with them.

Those neglected by our society not only need our material gifts, they also need the dignity that comes with being acknowledged; they need the gift of our friendship—and we need theirs as well. Together with them, we will experience the God Jesus has revealed to us, who loves us, not because we are distinguished or esteemed in our world, but because God has chosen to love us, rich and poor, haves and have-nots. The reality is that we seldom, if ever, go outside our social and familial circles. Sitting at table with one another will remind us of what God has done for us and who we all are, children of a loving and caring God, who has gifted each of us, whether we are hosting the meal or called in from the highways and byways of life to share in it.

No, Jesus hasn’t had a shift in character. He isn’t suggesting subtle ways to climb the social ladder so as to get places of esteem and influence. Rather, he wants those who have—to reach out to those who have not. And if we sit across the table from each other, who knows where our conversations will lead? Imagine the dinner scene: food and drink being passed and people who previously didn’t know one another, involved in animated conversation. What might we hear at the table as we get to know the guests we have invited? We might hear and come to understand their need for: food and shelter; protection for their rights; good and safe schools for their children; a voice to speak out on their behalf in the community; health care and medicine for their families; help to process legal documents; employment, etc. We rarely get to know those whose lives are at the other end of the spectrum from us. But if we did, by having a dinner together, or initiating a conversation with them, we might come to recognize the others as unique persons and we might come to know their needs as well. Then, first hand, we will know what we must do to be Jesus’ faithful disciples.

Of course, it wouldn’t all be sad talk, would it? At table, we would share stories of our family origins, our children’s antics, recipes and traditions. At table we would discover how much we have in common as human beings, we would see less of what separates us and more of what unites us. Are we being too idealistic? Are we describing a purely imaginative scene that has no parallels in the “real world?” Maybe. But here at Eucharist we are gathered around a shared meal. The kind Jesus has described. He has invited us and we have accepted the invitation. Granted, our parish communities can be pretty homogenous. But if we look a little more closely, we will notice more than enough diversity, especially these days in our very mobile world and with the arrival of so many immigrants.

There are many differences that would keep us separate. Nevertheless, here we are, together at the same table. We will listen to our common family story. It goes all the way back to Abraham and Sarah and to such sages as Sirach, in our first reading. In our worship our story focuses on Jesus and his Spirit makes his words relevant to our day. We may be very different in the world, but here at Eucharist we are family. What have we learned about one another at this table? When we leave this worship space, what can we do for others, those whom Jesus would have us love the way he loves them?

Suggested reading:

• Nouwen, Henri J.M., The Selfless Way of Christ: Downward Mobility and the Spiritual Life
• O’Connor, Flannery, “Revelation” from Collected Works

Weekly Memorization

Taken from the gospel for today’s session…

When you hold a banquet, invite the poor, the lame, the blind; blessed indeed will you be because of their inability to pay you

Living the Good News

What action can you take in the next week as a response to today’s reading and discussion?

Keep a private journal of your prayer/actions responses this week. Feel free to use the personal reflection questions or the meditations which follow:

Reflection Questions

• What in this gospel sounds very noble and right, but is ignored as not practical by most of us?
  Henri Nouwen says that the way to follow Jesus is through “downward mobility”. What does that mean, in real-life terms?
  Is it attainable?
• What forms of self-indulgence do I engage in, because “I am worth it”?
  Who might suffer or be neglected in the process?
• What about our culture encourages us to put ourselves in the forefront of discussions or events?
  What elements of our everyday existence (such as social media) encourage self-promotion?
• What value do we place on celebrity?
  What value do we place on insignificance?
  What value do we place on popularity?
  What value do we place on ordinariness?
  What value do we place on success?
  What value do we place on obscurity?
  What value do we place on money ?
  What value do we place on service?
• What individuals do I think it is important to cultivate, and why?
  What, in others, am I impressed by?
• To whom do I give either time or money without expecting a payoff? (whom do I invite to the banquet?)
• How do I rank myself in relation to others?
• Have I ever felt overlooked or not especially welcome at a gathering of friends or family?
  How did I feel?
  How did I react?
• Who, in our society, are constantly sent to the wrong end of the table?
  Who, in our society, are not invited to the table at all?
• Have I ever been “surprised” by my special welcome at an event or at someone’s home?
  How did it feel?
  To whom can I extend a special welcome as an “honored guest”, metaphorically speaking?
• Why is it important to welcome the poor and marginalized to our tables, and not just donate money to good causes?
• What is humility?
  What is false humility?

Meditations

A Meditation in the Dominican Style/Asking Questions:

We are each special and unique. But sometimes we need to be more special or more unique than everybody around us. We sometimes need to have the “honored place” at the table of life, and unconsciously expect others to agree. There are subtle tools we employ to get others’ attention, to arouse other’s envy, to stand out from the crowd—self-promotion, complaining about how unappreciated we are, humble bragging, and fame-by-association, to name a few… So we need to look to Jesus as our model; his actions and words were focused on the Kingdom, not on himself. What of my actions/words put the poor, the marginalized or those otherwise unnoticed in the spotlight? What of my actions/words point to me? What lies have I told myself about how under-valued I am compared to others? Have I ever stopped to consider those on the lower rungs of the economic ladder who work so hard for so little? Do I publicly engage in a type of false humility, which might encourage others to tell me I am selling myself short, and expect others to let me know again and again how valued I am? Do I feel the need to demonstrate how close to God I am or how important I am to other important people? What steps can I take to fix at least one of these behaviors?

A Meditation in the Ignatian Style/Consideration:

Adapted from “Sacred Space”, a service of the Irish Jesuits:

How difficult it is to practice the art of humility! How difficult it is not to take the best seat, grab the best bargain, and be the first in line for the concert I must see! Jesus asks us to think of others, to be more award of others’ needs, step back a bit and allow others to be center stage for a change. At the end of each day I take some time this week to look back and examine the subtle or not-so-subtle ways I stepped in front of others to gain attention, praise or some advantage. In my heart, I look at those I might have overlooked in my need to be noticed and instead, I put myself in their shoes. And finally, I consider those times when I was irritated, disappointed or angry because I was not noticed enough, was not praised enough. I ask Jesus to help me with my humility issues.

A Meditation in the Franciscan Style/Action:

“When you hold a banquet, invite the poor, the lame, the blind; blessed indeed will you be because of their inability to pay you.” We all know that we may not each take this injunction literally. We also know that it is hard to be generous in the face of hostility or lack of appreciation for our generosity. But rather than dismiss the idea out of hand, try to think of some way that you can help the poor, the lame and the blind reach the table of plenty. In addition, there must be someone in your life that you can help in some way, either monetarily or with your time, who cannot, or will not, return the favor. Do it anyway. And, let go of the resentment at doing so.

A Meditation in the Augustinian Style/Relationship

Try to pray the following Litany of Humility every day this week:

“Litany of Humility”

Author: Rafael Cardinal Merry del Val y Zulueta

O Jesus, meek and humble of heart, Hear me. From the desire of being esteemed, Deliver me, O Jesus. From the desire of being loved, Deliver me, O Jesus. From the desire of being extolled, Deliver me, O Jesus. From the desire of being honored, Deliver me, O Jesus. From the desire of being praised, Deliver me, O Jesus. From the desire of being preferred to others, Deliver me, O Jesus. From the desire of being consulted, Deliver me, O Jesus. From the desire of being approved, Deliver me, O Jesus. From the fear of being humiliated, Deliver me, O Jesus. From the fear of being despised, Deliver me, O Jesus. From the fear of suffering rebukes, Deliver me, O Jesus. From the fear of being calumniated, Deliver me, O Jesus. From the fear of being forgotten, Deliver me, O Jesus. From the fear of being ridiculed, Deliver me, O Jesus. From the fear of being wronged, Deliver me, O Jesus. From the fear of being suspected, Deliver me, O Jesus. That others may be loved more than I, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it. That others may be esteemed more than I, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it. That, in the opinion of the world, others may increase and I may decrease, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it. That others may be chosen and I set aside, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it. That others may be praised and I go unnoticed, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it. That others may be preferred to me in everything, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it. That others may become holier than I, provided that I may become as holy as I should, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.

Poetic Reflection:

This poem captures the sense of true humility, which starts with honesty before God, and a plea for God’s help:

IV

How calmly I balance here,

On the verge of loving you
again, in ways
I have forgotten.

You love out of your surplus;
I cannot accept out of my need.
How clever this pride
that dresses as humility
that makes of weakness
an excuse for mediocrity.

I am a weak man, Lord—
wrapped simply but completely
in my refusal to try.

Depart from me.
How can you bear my company
and even wish to cleanse me?
I remember you would have washed
Peter's feet, his hands, cleaned
away the remnants of his life.
Yet there was no room in his smallness
for your greatness.

Lord,
if you should but take this withered hand
of mine, and straighten it in love
then suddenly my square world
would go round, my eyes take on a new source
of light, then suddenly,
I might know the urge to fly

—From “War Poems; Eight days in Retreat”, from Psalms of the Still Country, by Ed Ingebretsen, S.J.

Closing Prayer

From the desire of being honored, Deliver me, O Jesus. From the desire of being praised, Deliver me, O Jesus. From the desire of being preferred to others, Deliver me, O Jesus. From the desire of being consulted, Deliver me, O Jesus. From the desire of being approved, Deliver me, O Jesus. That others may become holier than I, provided that I may become as holy as I should, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.