Psssssssssttt, Archbishop, if you need a good personal theologian, you know, like the Pope has one, just give me a ring, I know a jolly Dominican friar who'd make a great one. . .I'm a mean cook too!
Fr. Philip, OP
"A [preacher] who does not love art, poetry, music and nature can be dangerous. Blindness and deafness toward the beautiful are not incidental; they are necessarily reflected in his [preaching]." — BXVI
This image of “giving birth to the word” connects with our sisters in Christ better, I think, than it does with our brothers. Though some of us may look as though we are about to give birth, images of motherhood require some intimacy with the biological processes involved to be effective as a teaching method. John gives us another image of our familial connection to Christ that is a bit more universal in its appeal—the analogy of the God the vine grower, Christ the vine, and the we the branches. First, Jesus tells the disciples, “You are already pruned because of the word I spoke to you.” Jesus has cut away the obstacles of sin, the ties that bind, the relationships that impede growth in holiness with him. We are branches prepared to be grafted onto the vine. Next, Jesus admonishes them, “Remain in me, as I remain in you.” As a pruned branch, a cut limb, we cannot live apart from the vine. We wither and die without the nourishment of Christ the Branch. We need that organic feed, that biological bond not just to survive but to prosper, to bloom and bear fruit. And if we fail to grow that organic bond—to bloom, to bear good fruit—we die on the branch. And we are pruned away, gathered up, and thrown into the fire. Then the real groaning begins!
Jesus says to his disciples: “By this is my Father glorified, that you bear much fruit and become my disciples.” Now, we can go back to fidgeting and tapping and loudly sighing; waiting as our bounce our knees, groaning for our redemption. And while we wait—happily impatient, hopefully annoyed for having to linger here—we remain in Christ and he remains in us, and the Spirit, himself a groaner of the inexpressible, intercedes for us before the throne, insuring that when our impatient hearts are searched, our Father finds a field of good fruit, acres of fresh produce. Remember Christ’s promise: “Remain in my love; whoever remains in me and I in him will bear much fruit.”
28th Sunday OT: 2 Kings 5.14-17; 2 Tim 2.8-13; Luke 17.11-19
Fr. Philip N. Powell, OP
Paul writes to Timothy that he, Paul, is a criminal for the gospel, a man put in chains for preaching the Good News to Jews and Gentiles alike. And though he is suffering in chains for the sake of Christ and Christ’s body, “the word of God is not chained.” We can add here: “…and the word of God will never be chained.” Though courts, kings, governors, and states may strive to whip the Word with judicial rulings or bury it in paper prisons or poison it with the deadliest medicines, the Word will not be whipped, buried, or poisoned. In fact, Paul, noting the persistence of the Word for him, says, that because the word is not chained, “[he] bear[s] with everything for the sake of those who are chosen, so that they too may obtain the salvation that is in Christ Jesus…” The Word endure, carries on, lives always. And for this, we must give thanks. You must be the one healed leper in ten who returns to give God thanks, or Christ will wonder about you, “Where are the other nine?”
Before asking how gratitude works for us spiritually, let’s take a moment to explore the possible reasons for being ungrateful. Why do we sometimes fail to give God thanks? First, we may not understand the “giftedness” or “givenness” of our lives, that is, we may not understand the fundamental animating principle of human life. My life, your life is a gift, meaning that that we exist at all is a present from God. God did not need us then. Does not need us now. And will never need us. Reality’s creation from nothing was a gratuitous, singular event, a wholly unnecessary one-time occurrence. The on-going presence of Something rather than Nothing is gratuitous as well. That we are still here is a gift. Second, the psychological motivations we need to accomplish anything often rely on the notion that we achieve our successes and that we fail in our failures. In other words, it seems that in order for us to do anything good at all we must believe that anything we do well results from personal talent and hard work. Why give thanks to someone not directly involved in the work of my success? Of course, this denies the first principle of creation: eveything I am and everything I have is a gift from God. My talent, my drive to work hard, my need to succeed—all are gifts. Third, so delighted are we in our successes we often need to claim total credit in order to feel worthy of the success. If I am to succeed again, I have to come to the conclusion that I am solely responsible for that success. To do anything less is to risk a future failure. Finally, since the first bite of the apple in the garden we have been tempted to believe that we can become god w/o God. One god has no need to thank another god for anything. Our declaration of independence from the engines of divine perfection means that we think we are capable of saving ourselves. All we need for salvation is determination, the right doctrines, sufficient work, and a heart cold enough to reject any outside help offered—human or divine. We fail to give God thanks out of ignorance, pride, a cold heart, and vanity.
Why should we give God thanks? Given what we already know about our creation—that we were created gratuitously—we can see that acknowledging our existence is first and foremost a matter of justice: we owe God our gratitude. Our thanks is due. Our thanks to God is also a matter of acknowledging the most basic truth of our lives: we are creatures created by a Creator. We are not random collections of chemical and electrical processes. We are not genetic productions accidentally generated by ideal climatic conditions. We are beloved creatures, loved by our Creator. And as creatures first loved by God, we love back and give thanks for that love. The spiritual benefit, that is, the advantage that accrues to us when we are grateful to God is an increase in humility, an increase in our appreciation of our givenness, our total dependence on God as our Creator and Sustainer-in-being. Humility is the measure we use to determine the degree to which we are radically aware of our dependence on God. Your humility means that you know you are a gift given for no other reason than to love and be loved.
Here then is the surest way to ruin your life: fail daily to give thanks to God. Get up in the morning and go to bed at night as if you are entitled to everything you have, as if you were owed everything you have received. Get up in the morning and go to bed at night as if you alone achieved all of your successes, as if you orchestrated all your moments of greatness. Go day to day through your life utterly alone, in need of no one, in need of nothing but your own ingenuity and hard work. Grit your teeth when help is offered and say, “No, thank you.” Lock up your heart when a hand reaches out and say, “No thanks.” Shrink back in disgust at yourself and everyone around you when you fall and refuse help. Know in your ungrateful heart that you can do it all by yourself.
Or, you can be trustworthy. You can be grateful and flourish in blessing. You can be the one healed leper who returns to thanks to God. You can be Naaman, who is healed in the
Paul preaches: “Love is always patient and kind, never jealous, never boastful or conceited, never rude or selfish; love never takes offense, and is not resentful.” The Song of Songs sings, “Love is a flash of fire, a flame of the Lord himself…Love no flood can quench, no torrents drown…love is as strong as Death…” Love, above all, is dangerous! Rains come, gales blow, flood waters rise, lightening strikes, and we are shaken in our bones by the thunder. Love remains. Love remains, more dangerous, more perilous, and never more necessary than right now. Nothing happens without love b/c there is nothing but Love. As the divine passion that took the dark vacuum of nothing and spoke its Word, making all things; as the divine passion that divided day and night, male and female, good and evil, making creation His kingdom; as the divine passion that became Man so that we might share in His life beyond this one—Love is the rock foundation, the indestructible frame, the everlasting Word; Love is the Lord Himself given to us, freely, without cost to us. When we give ourselves to one another in love, we are loved first by God Himself.
What are we without Love? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Paul says, “If I have all the eloquence of men or of angels, but speak without love, I am simply a gong booming or a cymbal clashing.” Song of Songs makes clear that without love we are locked away, mute, crippled, weak; we are jealous, drowned, burned away. Matthew tells us that without the rock of love upon which to build our lives together we are too easily washed away, blown away, fallen. We are nothing…at all. Thanks be to God, then, that we are made to be “ambitious for the higher gifts,” desperate for sweet beauty, the seal of joy on our hearts, the house built against the storms. Paul preaches, “that [we] have faith in all its fullness, to move mountains, but without love, then [we] are nothing at all.” Thanks be to God, then, that when we give ourselves to one another in love, we are loved first by God Himself.
Tara and Jeremy are not here this afternoon to show us how they love one another. They are not here to declare a love that has gone, up until now, unspoken. And we are not here to witness their love—as if we knew nothing about them before now! Tara and Jeremy are here this afternoon to bind themselves together in the sacrament of matrimony, becoming one heart and mind, to show us that God, Who is Love Himself, loves us all first. Once bound together, under vows, Tara and Jeremy become living sacraments, living signs for the rest of us of exactly how and how much God loves us. When Jeremy looks at
Rain comes. Flood waters rise. Gales blow. And all the debris of the storm will be hurled against a house built on the rock of love. Let’s not make the mistake of thinking that love is magic. There is no voodoo in the sacrament this afternoon, no spells or charms that make love easy or simple. Tara and Jeremy both know that being bound together in love is dangerous. There are perils to saying Yes to another. Those beautiful faces aren’t always so pretty. Those sweet voices sometimes crack and screech. Even the strongest arm grows weak with use. The everyday living of life, just moving from sleep to sleep, from breakfast to dinner, can be a storm. There will be dark days. Hard moments. Times when today, looking back, might look like a huge mistake! There is no secret to living through these. No romantic magic to hold you up. There is only your love for one another and the sure promise from God that He loves you more.
Tara and Jeremy, today is the day! You become sacraments of Christ’s love for his Church. Remember: patience, kindness, humility, and selflessness; remember that jealousy and resentment kill a gift quicker than a knife through the heart. Remember that you are not trapped in a marriage but freed in love; not locked in your vows but let loose by them. Remember that you are always ambitious for the higher gifts and that there is no higher gift than that you be Christ for one another—teaching one another, healing one another, feeding one another, loving one another, and perhaps, as Christ did for us, even dying for one another. Remember, finally, this: love delights in the truth; it is always ready to forgive, to trust, to hope, and it will endure whatever comes, whatever comes! Because “love does not come to an end.”
27th Week OT(F): Joel 1.13-15; 2.1-2 and Luke 11.15-26
Fr. Philip N. Powell, OP
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Do we gather? Or do we scatter? If we gather with Christ, we gather victories. If we scatter against him, we scatter his victory.
What is the problem with the notion of “spiritual warfare” when “spiritual warfare” is understood to be a fight against the forces of darkness? There are a number of problems. Here’s just two. First, we have to ask, why fight a defeated enemy? What aren’t we doing while we prepare to fight a war we have already won? Focused on fighting Satan, we fail to expend our spiritual resources on the real problem: human disobedience, the failure to hear the Word, to see the Word and to believe with heart, mind, body, and soul that no word or deed of a mere devil can stand against The Word himself. In other words, we play anxiously with a distraction and give the Devil hope.
Second, fighting the defeated Devil is an act of betrayal against Christ. How so? What exactly do you think Christ accomplished on the Cross? What exactly do you think the Empty Tomb testifies to? If the Devil still has power in your life and you need to fight him, then the Cross was always empty and the tomb littered with some rascally rabbi’s bones. Jesus clearly states to the doubters in the crowd, “…if it is by the finger of God that I drive out demons, then the
Our Holy Fathers John Paul II and Benedict XVI teach us that we have come into the Paschal Mystery of Christ in our baptism. Meaning what? Meaning, when we were baptized, we took the first step along the Way to following behind our Lord in his public ministry, his suffering, death and his resurrection—his final victory over death. In other words, following Christ means doing what Christ did, suffering what Christ suffered, dying as Christ died, and rising with him when he rose. Do you believe that Christ was ever subject to Satan? Or that he is subject to Satan now? Of course not! Death is dead. Sin is powerless. The war is over. And Christ is the victor.
If you don’t believe this, then what are you doing here?
The bishops of Texas have issued a statement on Catholic involvement in Amnesty International:
Texas Bishops Respond to Amnesty International
October 8, 2007
We, the Bishops of Texas are instructing all parish and diocesan staff and other Catholic organizations to no longer support financially nor through publicity, nor participate in joint projects or events sponsored by the organization known as Amnesty International. This instruction is based on Amnesty International’s decision to limit its human rights agenda by promoting abortion as a way to curb violence against women, especially women in developing countries. In promoting abortion, Amnesty divides its own members, many of whom are Catholics, and others who defend the rights of unborn children and jeopardizes its support by people in many nations, cultures and religions who share a consistent commitment to all human rights. Our assessment is that Amnesty International is now violating its original mission to protect human rights worldwide and has lost its moral credibility.
While no human rights organization should turn away from the suffering that women face daily in the form of sexual violence, it should not prioritize a mother’s life above that of her unborn child. It is better to advocate advancing her educational and economic standing in society and resist all forms of violence and stigmatization against her and her child. Abortion is an act of violence against both the child and its mother. Any organization truly committed to women’s rights must put itself in solidarity with women and their unborn children.
Holy See – online | USCCB – pdf online |
Art. 5, § 1. In paroeciis, ubi coetus fidelium traditioni liturgicae antecedenti adhaerentium continenter exsistit, parochus eorum petitiones ad celebrandam sanctam Missam iuxta ritum Missalis Romani anno 1962 editi, libenter suscipiat. | Art. 5, § 1. In paroeciis, ubi coetus fidelium traditioni liturgicae antecedenti adhaerentium stabiliter existit, parochus eorum petitiones ad celebrandam sanctam Missam iuxta ritum Missalis Romani anno 1962 editi, libenter suscipiat. |
Fr. Philip N. Powell, OP
St Albert the Great Priory,
Go and do likewise. Let me say out loud what I would be willing to bet most of us are thinking: “I’m not doing that.” Maybe you aren’t being that blunt. Maybe you’re just worried about how difficult a thing it would be to imitate the Samaritan. Or maybe you trying to work it out in our head how you could do what he did without actually getting too involved with the victim himself. I’m willing to bet that some of you are thinking these things b/c every time I read this gospel I think, “I don’t have the time, the money, or the patience to get that involved with someone I don’t even know! And my eternal life depends on this?” I immediately start to think of ways to turn the story into something other than a direct order to serve those most in need. For example, this is some sort of vague tale of angels coming to help men—one of those Feel Good moments when we have to hope on the goodness of the supernatural b/c we can’t trust the natural. But, no matter how hard I try, how hard you try, the story remains…as is.
And I wonder why Jesus tells the story. Of course, he’s instructing the scholar of the law who is worried—as lawyers often are—about his own liability under the Law of Love. The scholar has the philosophy of mercy exactly right. Jesus says, “You have answered correctly…” The more difficult moment, however, comes when he says, “…do this and you will live.” Be merciful and you will have eternal life. Jesus tells this story of compassion b/c he dies on the cross for us all. Everyone. Without a single exception. And he means for us to understand that it is not enough for us to “get” the theology right, to grasp the philosophy correctly. Our merciful intent is a ghost in the brain if it will not animate our hands and hearts. Think: what if Jesus had merely thought about suffering and dying for us. Mused on the idea of saving us. Sat safely under the shade of a fig tree and contemplated the wisdom of offering himself as a victim for our sins. Would we have the Holy Spirit kicking us in the rear, thumping us on the head to go and do likewise? Maybe. But what difference would it make? In fact, how exactly would we be any different than the priest and Levite who see the beaten man and cross the road to avoid him? Caring compassionately for your neighbor is not an abstraction. It is a matter of our salvation. How perfectly inconvenient! What a huge nuance.
Fortunately, we do not have to decide to be merciful all alone. When Jesus says, “Go and do likewise,” he is also saying, “I am with you always.” When he says, “Be merciful and you will live,” he is also saying, “You know what mercy looks like b/c I have been merciful to you.” Indeed, he has rescued us from the pit and now we are freer than ever to help him rescue others. If we have a job description as Christians, it is this: out of the love Christ has shown us, we must love and be merciful.
That is a truly inconvenient truth.
How easy it is for us to be ashamed of our “testimony to our Lord”! Paul admonishes Timothy “not to be ashamed” of the witness he himself makes to the gospel of Christ. Rather than being embarrassed by the prospect of telling others about the Lord’s freely given gift of forgiveness in mercy, Paul urges Timothy to “bear your share of the hardship for the gospel with the strength that comes from God.” We are either ashamed of the gospel, burdened by the adversity its preaching brings, or we are strengthened, en-joyed, made joyful by the “sound words that [we have] heard from [Paul].” The faith and love that are in Christ Jesus are our inheritance, our trust fund of grace and life, the exceedingly rich treasury of gratuitous help that we receive for no other reason than that our Father is Love and loves us always. Paul goes on to order Timothy to “[g]uard this rich trust with the help of the Holy Spirit that dwells with us.” Reminding, testifying, bearing-up-under, strengthening, hearing and seeing, guarding, and preaching—all of these we do now and tomorrow for the sake of Christ and our eternal lives with him. Thankfully, we do not do any of these alone, none without help. Our help is the Holy Spirit who dwells within us and among us.
Brothers and sisters, we have work to do. And there is no room for a coward’s heart in a soul filled with Spirit!
We have work to do. And with this work, we have the Holy Spirit filling us with the power of the Word Made Flesh, the fire of truthful witness, and the assurances of God’s promises written in stone and flesh. The Spirit dwells in me. In you. In us. Calling Timothy “beloved,” Paul reminds Timothy: “Beloved, I remind you to stir into flame the gift of God that you have through the imposition of my hands.” What is this gift? For the Church, Timothy is a bishop, ordered to apostolic authority by the imposition of Paul’s hands. His gift is the grace of leadership, the gift of standing in front, between what has gone before and what is coming. Timothy is the focal point of salvation history for his local church. He is the crux, the crossroad for what is and what is not authentic testimony, what is and what is not truthful witness. With the Church, Timothy is a man of faith, burning with courage and strength, called to service to the exhaustion of his gifts, and lifted up as one with authority to lead. Timothy is himself a gift to the Church, a grace given to serve us in peril, without profit.
With Timothy’s strength, with Paul’s strength, with all the saints living and dead, and with the unfailing help of the Holy Spirit and the whole Body of Christ, we, cannot fail in preaching the gospel of Jesus Christ. God did not give us a spirit of cowardice but rather one of power and love. Therefore, to be ashamed of our gospel testimony is to be ashamed of Christ himself. Why would we add this hardship to our burden? We have enough work to do in pursuing holiness, in keeping away from sin, in feeding the hungry and clothing the naked and healing the sick. Why would we do any of this and fail to claim the power and love of the Holy Spirit? Why would we do any of this and fail to dig deeply and excessively into the treasury of graces freely given to us specifically for this purpose? Why would we plow the fields of the world and tend the world’s sheep and do so without humility and eagerly welcoming hearts? Why?
Cowardice, that’s why. Fear of hardship. An aversion to difficulty. A distaste for “offending.” We might be called names. We might be ostracized. People will think we are being exclusive or discriminatory or intolerant. If we make any hard claims about the truths of the gospel, we will be seen as aggressive missionaries, or worse—missionaries of aggressive religion! Thus, we must blend in, mingle, disguise ourselves. If we stand up, stand out, or in any way distinguish ourselves as gospel witnesses, we must be claiming exclusive possession of The Truth. We must be preaching One Way, The Only Way to heaven. We must be vile little buggers who lust to see the heathens burn! If we flinch at these accusations, batting a single eye for a single second, and change one word of the gospel out of fear being called bigots, we are, in fact, cowards; cowards deserving the label.
Now, before any of you think I am calling for the reinstitution of the Inquisition or a rallying of the Crusades, let me say: we work as servants. Not inquisitors. Not soldiers. Servants. We serve. That’s what gospel people do. Secularists expect us to come charging out of Mass with swords drawn and torches lit and force them all to the baptismal font and confessional. My suspicion is that this is exactly what they want us to do, thus confirming their own bigotries and prejudices and giving them every excuse to continue their already well-oiled and ever-so-sophisticated persecution of the Church. No, I’m not being an alarmist. Nor am I issuing warnings or dire cautions against the evils of the secular world. The evil we need to be worrying about lives already in the heart of every man and woman who lays claim to the suffering, death, and resurrection of Christ. Our worst enemy is not the state, not the Supreme Court, not the ACLU, and not other religions. Our worst enemy is the weak heart of compromise, the fainting spirit of accommodation and assimilation. Our worst enemy is the Christian heart that believes its soul is impervious to charitable work. Excused from profitable service and witness. This is the restless heart of a Christian that will not search for and will not find its rest in Love. It cannot. Because it suffocates the Spirit in disobedience and fear.
Ask these hard questions this way: is the Lord to be grateful to us b/c we have done what he has commanded us to do? Is he supposed to pat us on the back and send us on permanent retreat b/c we completed the work we vowed to do at baptism? Because we have said “amen” and “thanks be to God” at Mass? Or, are we to say to our Master, “We are unprofitable servants, Lord; we have done what we were obliged to do”? Even better: we have done what we promised to do because you died for us, making us heirs to your kingdom.
We are already well-paid servants. We’ve used all of our vacation days. All of our comp time and sick days. The Christmas bonus has been given and spent. The heavenly 401K has been cashed. The time clock is still ticking and we haven’t yet punched out. If you are going to be a witness to the gospel out there, then know this: our God did not give you a spirit of cowardice but rather a spirit of power and love and self control. His Word has been proclaimed to you and his Word remains forever.
Brothers and sisters, put on your apron. We have work to do!