Is just being too much?

NB.  Deacons preaching this weekend.  Below is a Roman homily that I've never actually preached.  The readings are from Year B, I think (2009).

4th Sunday of Lent: 2 Chr 36.14-16, 19-23; Eph 2.4-10; Jn 3.14-21
Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP
Convento SS. Domenico e Sisto, Roma

Have you given much thought to the difference it would make in your self-understanding if you chose to believe that you are a cosmic accident rather than a created being? Assuming, of course, that you think of yourself as a creature—a wholly made person, made by a Maker—a creature gifted with not only biological life but an immortal soul made for life eternal; assuming you think of yourself in this way, how different would your life be if you decided this afternoon to believe that you are nothing more than the fortunate consequence of cosmic circumstance, an admittedly freakish development wrought from chance chemical reactions, advantageous climatic conditions, aggressive genetic survival, and the heir to all the fortunes an opposable thumb gives this world’s more advanced primates? Would you think, for instance, that this world, this universe needs you? Needs us? Would we have any reason at all to believe that we are any more necessary to the other biological accidents of this planet than if we believe ourselves to be creatures made for a purpose? I would say, we would have less reason to believe ourselves necessary, fewer good reasons for thinking ourselves particularly important. Accidents are accidents; by definition, random clashes of things tossed at one another by chance in circumstance. If you don’t think of yourself as an accident, what difference does it make to you then to read Paul writing to the Ephesians: “. . .we are [God’s] handiwork, created in Christ Jesus for the good works that God has prepared in advance, that we should live in them”?

The great German poet, Rainer M. Rilke, in what is arguably the greatest modern elegy, the “Ninth Elegy” of his Dunio Elegies, asks my question this way: “Why, if this interval of being can be spent serenely/in the form of a laurel[…]: why then/have to be human—and, escaping from fate,/keeping longing for fate?...” His question is not an easy one; however, rather pointedly, Rilke is asking: since we have escaped fate by being human—our human choices design our futures not fate—, why continue to long for fate, for destiny? Why do we yearn for a purpose, a story already written out for us? He says, “Oh not because happiness exists,/[…]But because truly being here is so much; because everything here/apparently needs us, this fleeting world, which in some strange way/keeps calling to us. Us, the most fleeting of all.” Fleeting though we are, we are gifted with the use of words. Rilke argues that the ungifted things of this world need us to say the unsayable, to name those things that cannot name themselves, and not only name them but praise them as well, and in praising them, change them: “[…] transient,/they look to us for deliverance: us, the most transient of all./They want us to change them, utterly, in our invisible heart,/within—oh endlessly—within us! Whoever we may be at last.” Whoever we may be at last. . .

Who are we, at last? Paul says that we are God’s handiwork. This is who we are now and at last. Rilke tells us that “truly being here is so much.” And he is right. Truly being is so much. Too much, perhaps. Just being here is overwhelming—even as rational animals crafted to live immortally and knowing it to be so—simply being so, no more than being so, just this one thing right now, this can be too much. Forget doing. Forget thinking. Forget past and future. Just being exactly who and what we are—just being this here—can be too much. Being God’s handiwork, being made, created in Christ Jesus. . .each one of us composed, molded, drawn, built; from nothing, generated and blessed with breath and memory and intellect and will. And why? Why are we made? To name our inanimate cousins in creation? No. To take them into ourselves and change them? No. To propagate our DNA like herd animals, breeding like livestock? No. None of these is too much. None of these is truly being. Why, then?

Paul writes, “God, who is rich in mercy, because of the great love he had for us [. . .] brought us to life with Christ [. . .] that in the ages to come He might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in his kindness to us in Christ Jesus.” We were brought to life in Christ so that our Father might show us His infinite kindness through Christ. We were created in love for no other reason than to be loved. And we know that are loved by Love Himself when He shows us “the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness…” The oft-repeated and much-loved gospel reading says this perfectly: “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish but might have eternal life.” The ultimate demonstration of the Father’s infinite mercy, His immeasurable kindness. . .is His Son dying on a cross—a death that gave us birth to a new life in Christ. Prophecy and history meet to fulfill God’s will. That was no accident, no random clash of free-floating events!

So, if you don’t think of yourself as an accident, what difference does it make to you then that you are a creature created in love by Love? At the very least, you must think of yourself as the recipient of a divine gift; not only life itself, but every good thing that can given to one who lives faithfully in Christ. Read Paul again: “. . .we are [God’s] handiwork, created in Christ Jesus FOR the good works that God has prepared in advance, THAT we should live in them.” We are creatures created for the good works of Christ so that we should live in these good works. Do you live in the good works of Christ? If you do, then you do not live an accidental life, a life of chance, but rather a life of truth, as Jesus teaches us, “…whoever lives the truth comes to the light, so that his works may be clearly seen as done in God.” Live in the good works of Christ, do these same good works, and your good works are seen as holy works done by God’s will.

Notice, however, what happens when someone begins to think of himself as the product of random processes. Paul says that we are created in Christ Jesus to live in his good works. But if you hold that you are a product rather than a creature, then you will not acknowledge Christ or the good works you were created to use and imitate. Jesus says, “Whoever believes in [Christ] will not be condemned, but whoever does not believe has already been condemned…” Already been condemned. How so? Random products of natural processes have no purpose, no end. Random products are not good, true, or beautiful. They just are. They cannot truly be as beings loved by a Lover. For them, there is no Lover. No love. Random products can feel passion, think rational thoughts, enjoy art, literature, and music. But can they do truly Good Things if they will not acknowledge they are the handiwork of Goodness Himself? To what—beyond their chanced, mechanical lives—does the true, the good, and the beautiful refer? What can love be but the pre-determined firing of neurons in the proper sequence to produce the physiological effect most often labeled “love”? Is this condemnation? Yes, of a sort. Life in Christ is life lived knowing you are living out a divinely-gifted purpose. Life without Christ is life lived knowing you are living until your body parts fail you—a very limited warranty indeed.

We can end with Rilke. . .knowing that we are creatures who “live and move and have our being” in God Himself, our God “who is rich in mercy [and] brought us to life with Christ,” knowing we are not products but sons and daughters, we can shout with Rilke: “Look, I am living. On what? Neither childhood nor future/grows any smaller. . . .Superabundant being/wells up in my heart.”

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I will come to you like the rain. . .

3rd Week of Lent (S)
Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP
St. Dominic Church, NOLA

A Pharisee and a tax collector go to the temple to pray. The Pharisee marches right into the temple courtyard to pray, but the tax collector stands off at a distance. The Pharisee prays aloud. The tax collector prays quietly. The Pharisee recounts his righteous deeds and gives God thanks that he is “not like the rest of humanity—greedy, dishonest, adulterous.” While the tax collector humbly beats his breast in contrition and prays, “O God, be merciful to me a sinner.” Watching from the sidelines, anyone with eyes to see could tell the difference btw these two men. Their demeanor, dress, speech; the stance each takes before God. All different. But can we see how they are alike? Is there any reason to believe that either of two men is lying? Not that I can see. Both are telling the truth. That's how they are alike. The Pharisee is righteous. And the tax collector is a sinner. What justifies each man, for Jesus, is what they do with these truths. To what purpose do they put their spiritual condition? Both the righteous and the unrighteous will be exalted if they humble themselves before God. 

The key to understanding this deceptively simply parable is understanding the parable's audience. Luke writes, “Jesus addressed this parable to those who were convinced of their own righteousness and despised everyone else.” This parable at fired at those of us who are certain that we are righteous AND b/c we are certain of our righteousness despise everyone else. For a Pharisee to be sure of his righteousness is hardly scandalous. Follow the Law and your rightness with God is certain. There's no spiritual ambiguity here, no anxious hand-wringing about being in a state of grace. Now that we are certain of our rightness with God, what do we do? Well, one thing we do not do is despise everyone else b/c we are righteous. Nor do we give God thanks for helping us stay clean w/o also asking Him to pour out His graces on others in need of His help. Rather than despising your fellow sinners, your security in righteousness should compel you to further acts of sacrificial love in order to bring as many as possible into right relationship with God. The Pharisee's problem is his lack of genuine humility before God and his lack of genuine gratitude to God for his hard-won holiness. Humility and gratitude will persist in the truly righteous soul. 

The Lord says to Hosea, regarding His chosen people, “Your piety [Judah] is like a morning cloud, like the dew that early passes away.” In place of “piety,” other English translations use love, goodness, loyalty. The Latin Vulgate uses misericordia, which conveys the notion of a compassionate mercy, a sympathetic humanity towards others. Through the mouth of His prophet, Hosea, the Lord condemns Judah for its fleeting compassion, its fugitive goodness and stingy mercy. He says, “. . . it is love that I desire, not sacrifice, and knowledge of God rather than burnt offerings.” Give Me your love, come to know Me in love. Keep your sacrifices, your burnt offerings. Dare to be genuinely righteous before Me; lay all your wounds before Me—your worry, your pride, your fear, all of your secret sins. Set these ablaze before My altar, come to know Me in love. And I will bind all your wounds. I will come to you like the rain, like spring rain watering the earth. Then, when you stand to pray, you can pray with genuine humility and give wholehearted thanks. True righteousness can abide only when humility and gratitude stand under you as your unbreakable foundation. 

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Conclave date is set!

PRESS COMMUNIQUÉ FROM THE HOLY SEE PRESS OFFICE

The eighth General Congregation of the College of Cardinals has decided that the Conclave will begin on Tuesday, 12 March 2013. A Pro eligendo Romano Pontifice Mass will be celebrated in St. Peter’s Basilica in the morning. In the afternoon the cardinals will enter into the Conclave. 

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The Four First Things of Love

NB. Deacon John is preaching this morning.  Here's the conclusion of a Roman homily for the 30th Sunday OT (Oct 2008). The whole thing is titled, Reaching Down for Higher Things.

To love well we must first come to know and give thanks to Love Himself. He loved us first, so He must be our First Love. 

Second, we must hold as inviolable the truth that we cannot love Love Himself if we fail to love one another. 

Third, love must be the first filter through which we see, hear, think, feel, speak, and act. No other philosophy or ideology comes before Love Himself. This means obeying (listening to and complying with) His commandments and doing now all the things that Christ did then. 

Fourth, after placing God as our first filter, we must surrender to Love’s providential care, meaning we must sacrifice (make holy by giving over) our prideful need to control, direct, order our lives according to the world’s priorities. Wealth and power do not mark success. Celebrity does not mark prestige. “Having everything my way” does not mark freedom.

Last, we must grow in holiness by becoming Christ—frequent attention to the sacraments, private prayer and fasting, lectio divina, strengthening our hearts with charitable works, sharpening our minds with beauty and truth in art, music, poetry, and while being painfully, painfully aware of how far we can fall from the perfection of Christ, knowing that we are absolutely free to try again and again and again. . .

Though we often fail love, Love never fails us. Remember: who needs for love to never fail more than he for whom Love is God?

Question: Do you think that this piece on the "first four things of love" could be expanded into a short book? 

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Lenten Check Up

3rd Week of Lent (Th)
Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP
St. Dominic Church, NOLA

We're approaching the end of the third week of Lent. It's time to check in and see how we're doing. What better way to test our Lenten resolve to grow in holiness than to think hard about this ominous declaration from Jesus: “Whoever is not with me is against me, and whoever does not gather with me scatters”? Where are you right now on your Lenten trek to a cross in Jerusalem? Thinking about just the last three weeks, since Ash Wednesday. . .Are you with Christ? Or, are you against him? Have you gathered together with him? Or, have you scattered? Maybe you've gathered a few times and scattered a few times? If you are an “average Catholic,” you can probably lay claim to some victories and confess a few defeats. After all, we were never promised a short war against an unarmed enemy. In fact, we were told that our greatest enemy is our own reluctance to yield the battlefield to Christ and his victory on the Cross. So, in these last two weeks of Lent, how do we gather with Christ instead of scattering away from him? We begin by yielding the battle against sin and death to the one who has already defeated them both! 

Our Lord went into the desert for forty days to be tempted by Satan. Why? Well, there are probably hundreds of good reasons. We usually hear: he went into the desert to be tempted to show us that temptation can be resisted. Close. Jesus went into the desert to show Satan that his infernal influence on us is just that: influence and nothing more. Now, since this fallen angel is incapable of right reason and love, he can't listen (obey) to Jesus. So, the Devil learns nothing at all from his chat in the desert. Now, imagine Jesus talking to the Devil; listening to his blandishments; rejecting each one in turn; and then, after each rejection, turning to you with a wink and saying, “I hope you're seeing this. He's got nothing to give you in exchange for your worship.” After each temptation, Jesus says to Satan, in effect, “You can't give me that b/c it already belongs to the Father.” When Satan tempts us with—whatever we're tempted with—we're to recall this scene and say to him and to ourselves, “He can't give me that. You can't give me peace, wealth, vengeance, happiness, power. They all belong to the Father!” Bluff called. Checkmate. Game over. Jesus won. And we win b/c he won first. 

If all of this is true, then why do we still fail to grow in holiness by falling into sin? If Jesus has already won the battle, then why are we still fighting? Good question. Why are you still fighting? Better yet: who are you still fighting? The only fight to see here is the one between You and You as you struggle to yield to the truth of the Cross and the Empty Tomb. Jesus won, is winning, will win. . .always. Why is this truth causing you so much trouble? Maybe we like fighting temptation b/c there's always the chance that we'll lose. Maybe yielding to the truth of Christ's victory means saying goodbye to our favorite sins. Maybe we relish playing the role of the tortured wannabe saint who heroically defies the minions of Hell. . .most of the time. Who knows? Maybe, just maybe, we don't really believe that Christ won our freedom on the Cross and it's our job to help him. Let's listen to that ominous declaration one more time: “Whoever is not with me is against me, and whoever does not gather with me scatters.” Gather with Christ and his victory over sin and death. Our Lenten disciplines do not do battle with the Devil. They battle our reluctance to surrender ourselves to the truth that sin and death no longer divide us from our Father's kingdom. 

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Venezuela after Chavez

Excellent article on the Disaster That Is Venezuela post Chavez:

What has Chávez bequeathed his fellow Venezuelans? The hard facts are unmistakable: The oil-rich South American country is in shambles. It has one of the world’s highest rates of inflation, largest fiscal deficits, and fastest growing debts. Despite a boom in oil prices, the country’s infrastructure is in disrepair—power outages and rolling blackouts are common—and it is more dependent on crude exports than when Chávez arrived. Venezuela is the only member of OPEC that suffers from shortages of staples such as flour, milk, and sugar. Crime and violence skyrocketed during Chávez’s years. On an average weekend, more people are killed in Caracas than in Baghdad and Kabul combined. (In 2009, there were 19,133 murders in Venezuela, more than four times the number of a decade earlier.) When the grisly statistics failed to improve, the Venezuelan government simply stopped publishing the figures.     

[. . .]

The problem isn’t Election Day—It’s the other 364 days. Rather than stuffing ballot boxes, Chávez understood that he could tilt the playing field enough to make it nearly impossible to defeat him. Thus, the regime’s electoral wizards engineered gerrymandering schemes that made anything attempted in the American South look like child’s play. Chávez’s campaign coffers were fed by opaque slush funds holding billions in oil revenue. The government’s media dominance drowned out the opposition. Politicians who appeared formidable were simply banned from running for office. And the ruling party became expert in using fear and selective intimidation to tamp down the vote. Chávez took a populist message and married it to an autocratic scheme that allowed him to consolidate power. The net effect over Chávez’s years was a paradoxical one: With each election Venezuela lost more of its democracy.

Read the whole thing.  God bless Venezuela.  They need it.
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Knotty Brain

All day teaching. . .my brain is mushy. . .I think it might be a sprained or something.

Can gray matter get a charley-horse???

Time for some Introvert-Contemplation with 'Puter Solitaire!

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Obedience is a cure-all

3rd Week of Lent (M)
Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP
St. Dominic Church, NOLA

The King of Israel is angry. Naaman is angry. The people in the synagogue are angry. All of these biblical players are angry; for different reasons, each is upset, each feels put-upon, or disappointed; filled with fury and prepared for violence. The king rips his clothes in frustration. Naaman storms off, disillusioned. The synagogue congregation turns into a riotous mob. Everyone is stressed to their limits. The king is shown to be powerless over disease. Naaman is exhausted from traveling and dying of leprosy. And the mob is riled up by one man accusing it of spiritual infidelity. It seems as though peace has not only been forgotten but brutally beaten and left for dead. We begin this work week, the third week of Lent, plunged into the bitterness and bile of human weakness and failure. No one relishes the possibility of being exposed as a fraud, as an impotent actor in their own lives. But if Lent isn't the season for us to stare into a mirror and honestly calculate our place in God's holy family, then what are these 40 days for? Are you angry, disappointed, full of fury, exhausted, powerless, bitter? Now's the season to rend your garments and seek the cleanliness that obedience to God provides. 

Take Naaman, for example. He's a decorated military man. Highly honored by the King of Aram. He's a hero among his people, valient. Has everything a man of his day could want. He also has a disfiguring, incurable disease: leprosy. Naaman hears from his wife's Jewish slave-girl that there is a prophet in Samaria who can cure him. This prophet, Elisha, tells Naaman to bathe seven times in the River Jordan. Disappointed, he balks at this prescription, “Are not the rivers of Damascus, the Abana and the Pharpar, better than all the waters of Israel? Could I not wash in them and be cleansed?” Is he wrong here? Did he travel so far only to be told to go wash in a river? Fortunately, his servants get it, “My father, if the prophet had told you to do something extraordinary, would you not have done it?” He washes in the Jordan, and he is healed. What heals him? Not the magical-mystical waters of the Jordan. He is healed b/c he obeyed—heard and listened to—the word of God's prophet. Had he listened to his own disappointment and anger, he would've returned to Aram a leper. Naaman's pride, prestige, wealth, and his bitter disillusionment almost cost him his life. But he listens to God's servant and lived. 

Yesterday, we heard Jesus tell the parable of the fruitless fig tree. The little tree gets one more season to produce good fruit or be chopped down. Why couldn't the tree produce its fruit? Not enough cultivation or fertilizer? We can't know for sure. But we do know that the orchard owner has no use for fruitless fruit trees. What prevents you from producing good fruit? The King of Israel is a suspicious sort, shown to be powerless. Naaman is poisoned with pride and disappointment. The congregation that runs Jesus out of town is unfaithful, refusing to listen to his Word. All three of our biblical players fail to obey, fail to listen to what God has to say to them. Only Naaman manages to subdue his disobedience and find healing. If this third week of Lent is to be a time for contemplating your place in God's holy family, then spend some time contemplating how well you listen, how well you obey what God has to say to you. Anger, bitterness, disappointment—all these deafen your ears, darken your eyes. They poison your spirit and leave you unable and unwilling to be healed. Listen to God, not b/c it's convenient or logical or b/c it makes you feel good. Listen to God b/c obeying His Word is your truest path to holiness, your straightest approach to a glorious Easter morning. 

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Pregnant Cravings

How do I know it's Lent?

Yeah, yeah, yeah. . .Ordo, lectionary, violet vestments, blahblahblah. . .

Here's how I know it's Lent:

The Bacon Peanut Butter Onion Marmalade Burger!  Will I be making one of these during my next trip to visit the squirrels?  You betcha.

Why do I always get the culinary cravings of a pregnant woman during Lent?

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The pruning ax is always falling. . .

NB. This is a revision of the homily I preached yesterday at the vigil Mass. Feedback is always welcomed!

3rd Sunday of Lent 2013
Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP
St Dominic/Our Lady of the Rosary, NOLA

There's a hard challenge in The Parable of the Fig Tree that needs a response from each one of us. When the orchard owner orders his gardener to cut down the unproductive tree, he asks (what at first sounds like) a rhetorical question: “Why should [this tree] exhaust the soil?” Why should we allow a barren fruit tree to live in an orchard full of flourishing trees, when all it does is exhaust the nutrients in the soil? The gardener hears the challenge and takes it up immediately, “Sir, leave it for this year also, and I shall cultivate the ground around it and fertilize it.” Give me a year to work with the tree. I'll do everything I can to help it along. Then he adds, “It may bear fruit in the future. If not you can cut it down.” A reprieve not a pardon for the barren little tree. What's the hard challenge for each one of us? Our first answer might be: produce good fruit in the time we have left or face the pruning ax. But we all know that the pruning ax is going to fall on each one of us regardless of how much good fruit we produce. We will all die one day. So, the challenge here isn't Produce or Else! The challenge laid down in this parable is: produce good fruit every day, hour, and minute you have left b/c the Gardener has already begun to swing his ax. The first fruit we must produce is the good fruit of repentance. 

Why? Why should repentance be the first fruit we produce? Jesus tells the parable of the barren fig tree after he is confronted by some local folks with a theological problem. Two recent disasters have left them doubting their faith in God's justice. Pilate slaughters a group of Galileans at prayer and mixes their blood with the blood of the temple sacrifices. An abhorrent sacrilege. The locals wants to know how God can allow His faithful followers to be butchered by an unclean pagan like Pilate. Jesus answers them, “Do you think that because these Galileans suffered in this way they were greater sinners than all other Galileans? By no means!” In other words, those killed by Pilate were no more sinful than anyone else. Their deaths were no accident but neither were they killed as a punishment for sin. And neither were those killed by the collapsed tower at Siloam. Jesus asks, “Do you think [that those killed] were more guilty than everyone else who lived in Jerusalem? By no means!” Accidents happen; Roman governors slaughter people. And the Gardener's ax has already started its swing towards each one of us. Therefore, Jesus says, “I tell you, if you do not repent, you will all perish as they did!” 

Jesus' call to immediate repentance sounds like a threat: failure to repent right now will result in death. That's not what he is saying here. He's saying that if you do not want to perish in the same spiritual condition that these folks did, then you need to repent. How did they perish? Unrepentantly. What was their spiritual condition? Unclean. Our Lord's warning is not a threat, or a prediction that being unclean will cause a fatal accident, or give you cancer, or attract a serial killer with a thing for Catholics. In fact, his point is exactly the opposite. The Galileans Pilate murdered and the eighteen people killed in the tower accident were no more sinful than anyone else; yet, they died anyway. And they died unrepentant sinners. “I tell you, if you do not repent, you will all perish as they did!” If we do not want to die “as they did,” then we must produce the first good fruit required for holiness: repentance. Again, Jesus is not impersonating a televangelist trying to scare you, nor is he one of those guys down on Bourbon St. at Mardi Gras with a sign that reads, “REPENT! THE END IS NEAR!” Jesus is teaching us a simple but challenging truth: death comes for us all. . .best be ready. 

So, let's make the connection btw the two disasters and the fig tree parable a little more explicit. Like the fig tree, we have one more season, one more week, or maybe the rest of today to produce the good fruits of repentance; to turn ourselves around and run to God's mercy. Therefore, our focus needs to be on repentance not running after esoteric philosophical explanations for random events, or psychological analyses of a petty dictator's motives for violence. Why should our focus be on repentance and not asking why bad things happen to good people? Because random accidents can kill you. . .randomly, and sometimes petty dictators will decide that mass murder is a permanent solution for a temporary problem. Our time in the garden is ebbing away. The ax has begun to swing. So, Jesus is pleading with us; saying, in effect, “You're worrying about the wrong thing. You are all going to die one day. Get right with God before it's too late!” Our capacity for worrying over the wrong things is nearly limitless; however, our time on this earth is not. Therefore, repent and bear good fruit. . .before the season ends. 

Paul's letter to the Corinthians develops Jesus' call to repentance with a little reminder about Moses and those freed from slavery in Egypt. Recalling that their ancestors in faith suffered and died in the wilderness with Moses, and noting that many were struck down b/c God was displeased with them, he writes, “These things happened to them as an example, and they have been written down as a warning to us. . . Therefore, whoever thinks he is standing secure should take care not to fall.” Those struck down in the wilderness with Moses are examples for us, and we read about them as warnings. Our immediate impulse here is to ask, “So, does God really strike people dead for displeasing Him?” And then we should immediately hear Jesus say, “Were those struck down any more sinful than all the others? By no means! Repent, so that you do not die as they did.” Paul develops admonition teaching us that a large part of producing the good fruits of repentance is standing firm on our Rock, Christ Jesus. He notes that our ancestors in faith ate and drank in the wilderness “from a spiritual rock that followed them, and the rock was the Christ.” They survived b/c God was with them always, especially in times of trial and disaster. And when they were faithful to their covenant with Him, He lavishly blesses them, eventually bringing them to their promised land. 

We begin the third week of our trek through the Lenten desert, eating and drinking from Christ, our Rock. If you have been attentive to your fasting, prayer, and almsgiving, then you know what it means to find humility, to be fully aware of your dependence on God for your life and all that you have. Think carefully and pray urgently about what your friendship with God, about your place in His holy family, and what sort of person you are called to be in the world for the His greater glory. What is preventing you from receiving in full all the gifts that He has to give you? Is it some vice? A history of unconfessed sins? A stale prayer life? Whatever it is, turn away from it and run to God's mercy. Just walk away from whatever it is that stands btw you and the perfect love of God. And most of all, kill your worry. It will never bear good fruit. Our capacity for worrying is nearly limitless; however, our time on this earth is not. Therefore, repent and bear the good fruit of that repentance. . . before the season ends and the Gardener comes to prune his orchard. 

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Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock. . .

NB.  Preached this one at the vigil Mass this evening. I thought it bombed. . .big time. By the time I finished, I'd already decided to start over for tomorrow's Masses.  However, after Mass I got a lot of good feedback.  When I mentioned totally revising it, one of my "on-site" reviewers here in the parish said, "Nope. Don't do it. One of your best."  So, now I'm conflicted. Maybe it needs tightening up?  I dunno. . .

3rd Sunday of Lent 2013
Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP
St. Dominic Church/Our Lady of the Rosary

“If you do not repent, you will all perish!” We might expect to hear a warning like this from a televangelist, or read it on a sign down on Bourbon St. during Mardi Gras. That it comes from our Lord is a bit unsettling. . .but not entirely unexpected. The Jews of Jesus' day we used to hearing prophets shout warnings of impending doom and admonitions to repent lest the Divine Wrath smite them dead. It must've seemed like God's balled-up fist was always just hovering over Jerusalem ready to crush the whole sinful lot of them at any moment. Given our Lord's mission to preach the Good News of God's mercy to sinners, it's unlikely that he's shouting doomsday warnings just to scare folks into repentance. In fact, his call to repentance is an answer to an implied question. Some locals report to Jesus the details of two recent disasters—one an accident and the other a slaughter. The implied question is: if sin leads to judgment and death, why were only some of those involved in these incidents killed? Jesus answers, in effect, “You're worrying about the wrong thing. You are all going to die one day. Get right with God before it's too late!” Our capacity for worrying over the wrong things is nearly limitless; however, our time on this earth is not. Therefore, repent and bear good fruit. . .before the season ends. 

No one will ever accuse Pontus Pilate of being friendly to the people he ruled. The locals report to Jesus that Pilate slaughtered a group of Galileans at worship and mixed their blood with the blood of the ritual sacrifice. A horrific desecration. Luke is our only historical source for this incident; however, the great Jewish historian, Josephus,* tells us that a group of Samaritans were summoned to Mt. Gerizzim—their holiest site—to worship at a shrine of relics placed there by Moses himself. When the well-armed Samaritans approach the mountain through a town called Tirathaba, they find Pontus Pilate waiting for them. Battle ensues. Most of the Samaritans are killed, some flee, and some captured. Pilate orders the captives executed. Once again, Pilate desecrates a holy sacrifice with human blood. The locals want to know from Jesus, “How can God allow an unclean pagan to kill His faithful people while they offer Him worship?” Jesus' answer: “Do you think that because these Galileans suffered in this way they were greater sinners than all other Galileans? By no means!” In other words, if you think that you will be spared death b/c you are a lesser sinner than these Galileans, you're wrong. Forget the why's and focus on what's important: repent! 

We know almost nothing at all about Pilate's slaughter of the Galileans, and we know only a little more than that about the tower collapsing at Siloam. Only Luke mentions it. We know eighteen people were killed. That's about it. Jesus uses the accident to ask the same question he asked before, “Do you think [that those killed] were more guilty than everyone else who lived in Jerusalem? By no means!” Again, those killed were no more sinful than anyone else. They were killed b/c a tower fell on them. There is no “why” to this accident. Stop navel-gazing and focus on what's important, “But I tell you, if you do not repent, you will all perish as they did!” Jesus is not saying here that the failure to repent causes death. He's saying that if you do not want to perish in the spiritual condition that they did, then repent. How did they perish? Unrepentantly. What was their spiritual condition? Unclean. Our Lord's warning is not a threat or a prediction that being unclean will causes a fatal accident, or give you cancer, or attract a serial killer with a thing for Catholics. In fact, his point is exactly the opposite. The Galileans and those eighteen people killed in the tower accident were no more sinful than anyone else. Their spiritual flaw? They were unrepentant sinners. 

As he is prone to doing, Jesus uses a parable to drive his teaching home. The owner of an orchard is upset that his fig tree hasn't produced any figs in three years. He orders his gardener to cut it down, “Why should it exhaust the soil?” The gardener—an unrepentant tree-hugger—talks the owner into giving the little tree one more year to produce. Good news for the tree; however, the gardener adds, “. . .it may bear fruit in the future. If not you can cut it down.” The fig tree gets a reprieve not a pardon. This parable's connection to Jesus' call for repentance isn't made explicit, so we have to do the leg work here. Jesus asks the locals if the Galileans and the tower victims were any more sinful than any other sinner in town. The answer is no. Accidents happen; Roman governors slaughter people. Like the fig tree, we have one more season, one more week, or the rest of today to produce the good fruits of repentance; to turn ourselves around and run to God's mercy. Therefore, our focus needs to be on repentance not running after esoteric philosophical explanations for random events, or psychological analyses of a petty dictator's motives for violence. Why should our focus be on repentance and not asking why? Because random accidents can kill you. . .randomly, and sometimes petty dictators will decide that mass murder is a great cure for his social problems. In other words, because time is ebbing away and death comes for us all. Best be ready! 

Now, Paul—never one to be left out of a good discussion on repentance—adds his two cents in his first letter to the Corinthians. Recalling that their ancestors in faith suffered and died in the wilderness with Moses, and noting that many were struck down b/c God was displeased with them, he writes, “These things happened to them as an example, and they have been written down as a warning to us. . . Therefore, whoever thinks he is standing secure should take care not to fall.” Those struck down in the wilderness with Moses are examples for us, and we read about them as warnings. Our immediate impulse here is to ask, “So, does God really strike people dead for displeasing Him?” And then we should immediately hear Jesus say, “Were they any more sinful than all the others? By no means! Repent, so that you do not die as they did.” Part of producing the good fruits of repentance is standing firm on our Rock, Christ Jesus. Paul notes that our ancestors in faith ate and drank in the wilderness “from a spiritual rock that followed them, and the rock was the Christ.” They survived b/c God was with them always, and when they were faithful to the covenant, He blessed them abundantly. 

We begin the third week of our trek through the Lenten desert, eating and drinking from Christ, our Rock. If you have been attentive to your fasting, prayer, and almsgiving, then you know what it means to find humility, to be fully aware of your dependence on God for your life and all that you have. Think carefully and pray urgently about what your friendship with God, about your place in His holy family, and what sort of person you are called to be in the world for the His greater glory. What is preventing you from receiving in full all the gifts that He has to give you? Is it some vice? A history of unconfessed sins? A stale prayer life? Whatever it is, turn away from it and run to God's mercy. Just walk away from whatever it is that stands btw you and the perfect love of God. And most of all, kill your worry. It will never bear good fruit. Our capacity for worrying is nearly limitless; however, our time on this earth is not. Therefore, repent and bear good fruit. . .before the season ends and the Gardener comes to prune his orchard.

 *Antiquities 18, 4, 1 #86–87

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Everyday warrants a fattened calf!

NB. For a "Vintage Fr. Philip" version of this homily, check out "Wasting Love on Sinners" from 2008

2nd Week of Lent (S)
Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP
St. Dominic Church, NOLA

Sinners are drawn to Jesus. Tax collectors, prostitutes, all sorts of unclean souls are pulled into his presence, seduced—if you will—by. . .what exactly? What is there about Christ that attracts those who have put themselves outside of God's good graces? You would think that sinners would run and hide when he shows up to preach. But the only creatures who cringe at his approach are the unclean spirits, the demons. The gospels report that when our Lord walks into town, a crowd gathers. Some are there in hopes of seeing a magic trick. Others out of curiosity to hear what this guy has to say. Sprinkled throughout the crowd though are men and women whose deeply seeded desire for holiness is struck like a bell when Jesus comes near. There's just something about who and what Jesus is that makes these sinners drop whatever they are doing and run to be with him. What is this “something”? Whatever it is, the Pharisees and scribes are unhappy with the fact that a rabbi is eating and drinking with sinners. When they complain, Jesus tells them a parable about a long-lost son and his welcomed return home. This prodigal son leaves his life of sinful dissipation and starts a life of grateful celebration. Can we describe our lives as “grateful celebrations”? 

The standard way of reading the Parable of the Prodigal Son goes like this. . .the son is the sinner; the father is God; and the good son is the Pharisee. When the sinner-son returns home after wasting his inheritance on wine, women, and song, his father throws a party to welcome him back. The good son-Pharisee angrily objects to the party b/c his sinner-brother hasn't earned their father's forgiveness. The father responds “My son, you are here with me always. . .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.” Here's my question: what draws the sinner-son back to his father to live his life in grateful celebration? What is it about the father that attracts his son home? The sinner-son and the father share a habit of the heart: both are prone to prodigality, dissipation. For the son, this habit is a vice; for the father, it is a virtue. The father's welcome home feast is no less extravagant, no less excessive than the son's squandering of his inheritance. Both lavishly spend, both are reckless in their indulgence. However, while son viciously spends money to sin, the father virtuously spends mercy to love. The son is drawn home to his father by a deeply seeded desire to have his ability love perfected. In his father's mercy, the son's love is made perfect. 

A sin is always an act of imperfect love. And imperfections always seek their perfection. Sinners are drawn to Jesus like magnets, pulled toward his perfect love for them. His loving presence—extravagant, abundant, indulgent, perfect—seduces sinners, reels them in. We see in him and hear from him the holiness we long for, the righteousness we were made for. His fullness shames our emptiness and so we draw close so that we might be filled. Our Lord too is a prodigal child, a son of excessive love, abundant mercy, indulgent forgiveness, and perfect hope. He spent his life for us on the Cross, an act of holy abandon, a complete surrender to death so that we might live. If we draw near to him and confess our imperfections, we too are welcomed home to the Father. Made perfect by Love Himself. Thus, there is nothing else for us to do than to spend our lives in grateful celebration, giving thanks and praise, lifting up our burdens and seeing them taken away. Long or short, dull or exciting, the life of a faithful follower of Christ is a life lived in grateful celebration. For us, if we turn to God for mercy, everyday warrants a fattened calf! 

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New priory at UVA

Look!  The Dominican friars at UVA have a real priory and not just some suburban ranch-style house built in the 70's!  I bet they wear their habits outside of liturgies too. 

Good on them. . .
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Vids on the Popes After Peter

Check out a new Catholic blog:  CathWow!

The blogger is Jason Surmiller, a former student of mine from the Univ of Dallas.

Jason is making and posting a series of short vids on the Popes after Peter. . .historically informative and very timely.

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Standing on the Cornerstone

2nd Week of Lent (F)
Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP
Our Lady of the Rosary, NOLA

Here's a sentence no servant of God ever wants to hear: “. . .the Kingdom of God will be taken away from you and given to a people that will produce its fruit.” What's worse than living your life as an heir to eternal life only to discover that—in the end—you've been disinherited? When Jesus finishes telling the priests and elders the parable of the tenants, he quotes Ps 118, “The stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone.” By rejecting Christ as the cornerstone of their relationship with God, the leaders of God's people reject their inheritance. Their reaction to this prophetic statement? They ain't happy. However, they are more afraid than unhappy—afraid of Jesus' popularity, so they postpone arresting him. They're not worried about losing their eternal inheritance. They're worried about losing their power and prestige among the people. When we think about the demands of following Christ, do we think first of our eternal inheritance, or do we first consider how following him might look to family, friends, neighbors? 

The parable of the tenants retells the history of the Jewish people's stormy relationship with God. We know the story all too well. It tells just like the history of the Church's relationship with God. Lots of disobedience and great moments of heroic virtue. What the parable doesn't include is an explanation for our repeated failures. We can hear greed in the tenants' justification for killing the owner's son. But greed never poisons alone. We can hear a little wrath in the tenants' desire to wound their employer. Some pride and class envy. Why do the priests and elders reject Christ? Why do we so consistently reject making Christ the cornerstone of our lives. Making Christ the cornerstone of our everyday lives means risking one of our most valuable treasures: being a respected player in whatever social game that defines us. Family, friends, co-workers, colleagues, neighbors, fellow parishioners. If I make Christ my cornerstone, will I have buck trends, go against the prevailing attitudes of my peers, and risk losing real prestige for nothing more than a promise of future glory? 

Social psychologists will tell you that there is almost nothing more difficult for an individual to do than go against the crowd. The psychology of the herd is infectious; it takes the single soul into a massed spirit where deliberation and freedom are strangled for the sake of frenzy. But few of us will ever be caught up in that sort of mob. The mobs we belong to are much more subtle and more dangerous: the workplace, the family reunion, movie night with friends, faculty meetings, events where those whose opinions of us we honor gather to socialize and strengthen the bonds of the group. When the opportunity arises, do we choose Christ as our cornerstone; or do we choose our standing in the group? When family, friends, co-workers express their support for the culture of death, do you stand on Christ; or do you back down to save face? When your peers start advocate undermining marriage and the family; or expressing racist opinions; or defaming the Church, do you stand on Christ, or back down? If Christ is to be your cornerstone, then everything you are must find its integrity and strength in Christ, regardless of the consequences. As baptized prophets of the Church, you are sent out to live the truth of the gospel. Even if and especially when it means your prestige must take a beating. When the time comes “remember the marvelous works of the Lord,” most especially the marvelous work of your salvation achieved on the altar of the Cross. 

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