NB. Last Sunday I celebrated the 8.00am Mass at St Dominic's and the deacon preached. Today I'm celebrating at Our Lady of the Rosary, and the deacon is preaching. So, here's one from 2011. 
 
6th Sunday OT
Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP
St. Joseph Church, Ponchatula
A comet slams into the earth, 
causing massive earthquakes, tidal waves, firestorms:  the comprehensive
 collapse of human civilization and the beginning of a new Ice Age.  A 
few, small pockets of humanity manage to survive—those living on 
mountain ranges and far from the coasts.  Each community fights to 
survive.  They must find food, clean water, medical care.  There is no 
law, no church, no military, nothing left to guide the survivors but 
raw, individual instinct and the will of the strongest among them.  Some
 few still talk about right and wrong, some few still invoke the name of
 God, or the authority of the Bible, and some even appeal to reason when
 the more savage choices have to be made.  But who is God?  What is the 
Bible?  Where is reason?  Six billion people have been reduced to a few 
hundred scattered across the world.  The choice is live or die.  What I 
have just described is the plot of one of the very first novels I read 
as a kid, Lucifer's Hammer, published in 1977.  From the moment I
 opened the cover of this book, I was hooked on Doomsday fiction, 
apocalyptic literature.  Of course, what I described could be the plot 
of just about every disaster movie made since the 1950's.  Hollywood is 
still making Doomsday movies—2012, The Road, Independence Day—and
 they've been diligent in producing my favorite Doomsday sub-genre, the 
Zombie Apocalypse movie!  Why do these sorts of stories fascinate us?  
What is it about the collapse of civilization and the destruction of 
humanity that appeals to us?  Here's a guess:  we want to know what 
might happen if there were no rules, no law, no consequences.  Could we 
be moral without the threat of punishment?
Now, you have to be wondering 
what zombie movies and novels about comets have to do with the gospel.  
Besides the fact that Jesus is talking about Judgment Day—who enters the
 Kingdom and who doesn't—we have in the gospel a lengthy lesson on what 
it means to be a moral person.  Jesus is teaching on the Law:  how he 
has come not to abolish it but to fulfill it.  In the longer version of 
the reading, he says, “. . .until heaven and earth pass away, not the 
smallest letter or the smallest part of a letter will pass from the law.
 . .”  He goes on to warn that anyone who breaks the commandments will 
not enter the Kingdom.  However, those who obey the Law will be the 
greatest in the Kingdom.  So, to be a moral person, a person held in 
high esteem among the hosts of Heaven, you must obey the Law.  Sounds 
straightforward enough.  But then Jesus does what he does best.  He 
throws a curve, adding, “I tell you, unless your righteousness surpasses
 that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will not enter the kingdom of 
heaven.”  You should understand immediately that the scribes and 
Pharisees were renowned for their obedience of the Law.  But here Jesus 
tells his disciples that their righteousness must surpass that of the 
scribes and Pharisees.  Mere compliance is not enough.  Something more 
is required.
In the shorter version of the 
reading, we have three examples of how our righteousness can surpass the
 righteousness of mere compliance.  Jesus uses murder, adultery, and 
oath-breaking to illustrate his point.  Under the Law, killing another 
person, sex with someone who isn't your spouse, and swearing a false 
oath are all grave sins.  The Law outlaws these behaviors.  The act of 
murder, the act of adultery, the act of swearing a false oath are all 
forbidden.  Since Jesus did not come to abolish the Law but to fulfill 
it, he teaches the disciples that these behaviors remain sinful.  
However, good behavior does not produce surpassing righteousness.  
Something more is required.  He says, “You have heard it said, 'You 
shall not kill; You shall not commit adultery; Do not take a false 
oath.'  But I say to you, do not be angry; do not lust after another' 
and let your 'yes' mean yes and your 'no' mean no.”   Surpassing 
righteousness springs from a clean heart as well as clean hands, from 
both a pure spirit and a pure body.  You refrain from murdering your 
neighbors. . .but do you refrain from hating them?  You refrain from 
committing adultery. . .but do you refrain from lust?  You refrain from 
swearing false oaths. . .but is your word alone honorable?  Actions are 
born from intentions.  And pure intent is the mother of righteousness.
For all that he teaches us about
 living in right relationship with God, Jesus has nothing at all to say 
about living through the Coming Zombie Apocalypse.  He really doesn't 
say much about Global Warming—er, I mean “climate change”—or nuclear 
annihilation, or the devastation of a global virus outbreak.  All he has
 to say about the End Times is that on the Day of Judgment, the goats 
and sheep will be divided.  The goats will be tossed into the fire, the 
sheep raised up to heaven.  If you want to be among the sheep, live now 
in surpassing righteousness.  If you prefer to be a goat, then revel in 
hatred, anger, lust, adultery; worship false gods, refuse to help those 
in need; basically, believe and behave as though the only thing that 
matters to you is your survival.  Given the choice to live or die, what 
won't you do?  In the movie, The Road, a man and his son travel 
the roads of an unnamed country after the world has been more or less 
destroyed.  There are no animals, very little clean water, no plant 
life; nothing resembling the rule of law except the sort of rule that 
comes from the barrel of a gun.  The man and the boy spend their time 
scrounging for canned food, bottled water, and sleeping under pieces of 
plastic.  When they are awake, they have to run and hide from gangs of 
roving cannibals.  Along the way, the man tries to teach the boy about 
hope.  The boy listens and learns.  But every time their lives are 
threatened, the man abandons hope and resorts to surviving by any means 
necessary.  The boy notices the contradiction and wonders if his father 
genuinely nurtures any hope at all.  This movie (and the novel it's 
based on) provide us with an opportunity to see what happens when the 
power of the law to rule humanity is destroyed.  How do we behave when 
there is no law, no church, no military, nothing to guide us, nothing to
 reward or punish us?  If our movies and novels are any indication of 
what most of us would do, then we are in deep trouble.   A life of 
surpassing righteousness can never be about mere survival; it is a life 
lived in constant hope.
And hope—like faith and love—is a
 virtue, a good habit.  If hope is to be a constant in your life, a 
rock-solid, bottom-line reality, then your answer to God's call to 
holiness is going to have to be Yes.  Let that “Yes” mean yes.  If your 
“Yes” means “Maybe,” or “When I can,” or “If it's convenient at the 
moment,” or “When things are good,” then your “Yes” means No and that is
 from the Evil One.  Hope is a choice.  Sirach says, “If you choose you 
can keep the commandments. . .if you trust in God. . .He has set before 
you fire and water to whichever you choose. . .Before man are life and 
death, good and evil, whichever he chooses shall be given him.”  Choose 
to listen and obey.  Choose to trust and love.  Choose life and 
goodness.  Immense is the wisdom of the Lord!  Choose His surpassing 
righteousness as your own and live in constant hope.   Let your “Yes” to
 His invitation mean Yes.  In the face of unemployment, sickness, a 
death in the family, comets, zombies, nuclear annihilation, whatever 
comes, let your “Yes” mean yes.  Whether you are preparing your taxes, 
walking on the beach, dating your high school sweetheart, or trying to 
save your marriage, let your “Yes” to God's righteousness mean Yes.  
Anything else is from Evil One.  
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