20 September 2020

Are you envious of God's generosity?

Audio File

 

25th Sunday OT

Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP

OLR, NOLA


I had knee surgery in the summer of 2015. Before the anesthesia hit me, I told the surgeon, “Doc, I can't dance. I can't sing. My modeling career ended 30yrs and 200lbs ago. All I got is my brains. Please don't mess that up!” Confused, he responded, “Father, we're operating on your knee not your brain.” I said, “Yeah, well, I take no chances.” Knowing your gifts and protecting them is just good stewardship. Likewise, coveting the gifts of others, being jealous of the riches God has given your neighbors, is a waste of time and a doorway to spiritual misery. While you are busy envying your friend's gift of song, or your neighbor's gift of dance, you are also busy neglecting the gifts God has given you. The Devil loves envy precisely b/c it is a monstrous wasting of your limited time on earth. Envy is an empty longing to possess a gift that will never be yours b/c it was never meant to be yours. When you find yourself daydreaming in jealousy, think back on this reading: “My friend, I am not cheating you...Take what is yours and go...Are you envious because I am generous?” Great question. Are you envious of God's generosity?

I'll confess. I often am. I know my gifts, and I am grateful for them. But there are times when I read a great novel and find myself jealous of the novelist. Or when I see someone drawing a portrait and wish that I could do that. People who can sing or play musical instruments provoke a bit of envy at times. God's generosity is abundant, but it is also specific; that is, we do not all get the same gifts in equal measure. This goes for spiritual as well as material gifts. Some trust God more easily than others. A few are able to live in hope more deeply than most. For many, sacrificial love rises to the challenge more slowly than it does for the gifted. We are all called to be saints. But we are called to be the kind of saints we are gifted to be. That's not an easy truth to swallow. Different gifts means different paths, different tasks, different challenges. It also means resisting the temptation to covet gifts you haven't been given. Envy is poison. It breeds resentment and anger. It darkens the mind and rots the heart. Envy encourages neglect of one's own gifts and violence against those you covet. Ask yourself: am I envious of God's generosity? If so, how do I move toward gratitude?

Paul, writing to the Philippians, shows us one way to answer this question. Paul is torn between his desire to be with Christ after death and his duty to continue preaching and teaching the Good News. He writes, “I long to depart this life and be with Christ, for that is far better. Yet that I remain in the flesh is more necessary for your benefit.” Paul recognizes that he has been gifted with the authority to lead the Church, to labor fruitfully among Christ's people as an apostle. And at the same time, he longs for nothing more than to be with Christ in heaven: “For to me life is Christ, and death is gain.” BUT his gifts require him to “remain in the flesh,” among his people, serving their needs; preaching, teaching; building up the Church. Paul sacrifices his life in the flesh – makes his life holy – by freely giving his gifts from God back to the Church in service. He could've use his gifts to set up a church in competition with Christ's church. He could've declared himself a prophet and gathered a following to rival Peter, James, and John. He could've even used his gifts of oratory to deny Christ and continue his persecution of the Church. Instead, with gratitude, he receives his gifts and puts them to the good use of preaching and teaching the Good News...even as he longs to be with Christ in death. Do not be envious of God's generosity; be grateful.

Think about how much anxiety, resentment, and anger are churned up in your life by envy. If you measure your worth against the gifts other have received, while ignoring your own gifts, you will always fall short. You will always appear diminished, less-than, neglected. If you spend your time and energy longing to have what was never given to you, you throw away – unused – everything that has been given to you. If you are anxious, resentful, or angry, it might be b/c the Devil has succeeded in drawing your attention away from God's generosity to you and toward the apparent “better gifts” of your neighbors. There are no “better gifts.” Each gift is given precisely to the one to whom it belongs. No one else can use your gifts in the way you can. God knows this. And His generosity ensures that everyone possesses exactly the gifts he/she needs to serve Him and His people. The challenge our Lord levels at each one of us is to receive His gifts and make them holy by using them to preach and teach the Gospel in the world. There is no room for anxiety, resentment, or anger in this charge. There is only surrender to God and gratitude for His infinite Goodness and Generosity.

 

 

 

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17 September 2020

Could you do that?

 

24th Week OT (R)

Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP

St. Dominic Priory, NOLA


Given our middle-class manners and overall commitment to modern standards of hygiene, to say nothing of our recent descent into collective germaphobia, I'm betting that we'd have the Sinful Woman arrested and placed on a 72hr psych hold if she pulled this stunt nowadays. I'm pretty sure we wouldn't recognize her bizarre behavior as adoration much less a plea for forgiveness. And even if we did, we might be tempted to look around for a camera, suspecting that we were unwitting participants in a piece of political theater. Regardless of our specific reactions, can we honestly say that we would've react any better than the Pharisees did? While they were motivated by jealousy of Jesus' power as a religious figure, we might be motivated to react because. . .? The woman is embarrassing herself in public? She's disrupting a polite dinner party? Being wasteful? Or maybe b/c she's showing us how lacking we can be in showing our Lord honor? Her overt and very public display of reverence seems. . .excessive, emotional, shining a judgmental light on our own unwillingness or inability to express piety worthy of the Lord's love. I wonder if I could do what she did w/o any taint of irony in my heart. That I wonder such a thing speaks to decades of cultivating pride as a defense against appearing excessively religious to others. Thanks be to God that you and I have her witness to remind us that sometimes a display of affection can also be a plea for mercy.

 

 

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12 September 2020

Forgive like your (eternal) life depends on it!

 Audio File

 

24th Sunday OT

Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP

OLR, NOLA

Lest we want to be handed “over to the torturers until [we] should pay back [our] whole debt,” we must acquire the good habit of forgiving others. But before we can acquire the virtue of forgiving others, we need to understand what it is to forgive. From Jesus we learn that forgiving another his sin against me is something like “settling accounts” with someone who owes me a debt. There are two ways for this debt to be settled: first, I am repaid, “made whole” and no longer lacking what I loaned; second, I forgive the debt; I waive the obligation for repayment and count the loan a gift. The Master in Jesus' parable decides to settle his accounts, to bring his books into balance. He calls in all the loans he's made. One servant can't repay him, so the Master orders him and his whole family sold to repay what he owes. The servant pleas for mercy, and the Master – moved by compassion – forgives the servant's debt. So what happened here? The money he owes doesn't magically reappear on the Master's books. The Master is still out the amount of the loan. Financially, the Master has not been “made whole.” But spiritually, he has quite possibly gained a kingdom. To forgive is to treat another's sin against you as a gift to the sinner.

Of course, this sounds like an absurd practice! You're telling me that when someone sins against me I'm supposed to take that debt and return it to the sinner as a gift from me?! Yup. That's what Jesus is saying. But be patient. This absurd practice looks less absurd when you consider the alternatives. What else could I do here? I could incur my own debt by sinning against the sinner. Eye for an eye. Tit for tat. You sin against me, so I sin against you. Now we have two sinners instead of one. How is that a good thing. . .especially for me? I've allowed you to lead me into sin. I could hold your sin against me in the depths of my heart and nurture a grudge in silence, allowing your sin to fester and rot, poisoning my whole being. While you go about your merry way, I live with the carcass of your sin fouling me, body and soul. Well, that's obviously not an attractive option. Or, I could take your sin against me and turn it into a gift, handing it back to you in mercy, thus freeing us both from the prison of spiritual death. In other words, I could for-give you. I could fore-go, surrender my need, my desire for repayment or punishment. “I say to you, [forgive] not seven times but seventy-seven times.”

Do you find this to be a difficult command to follow? Why is it so hard for you to turn a debt owed to you into a gift for your debtor? Maybe you believe that forgiving the sinner is the same as approving of a sin. If I forgive him for cheating on me, I'm saying it's OK to cheat on me. Wrong. Only debts and sins can be forgiven. By forgiving him, you are clearly saying that his cheating is a sin. Maybe you believe that forgiving the sinner increases the chances of her sinning again. Forgiveness makes sin easy to repeat. Wrong again. Each act of forgiveness is a sacred gift, a gift that builds virtue and destroys vice in the forgiver and the forgiven. Maybe you just like to nurture the hurt of being sinned against. You believe that nurturing the offense rather than forgiving it gives you some sort of power over the one who sinned against you. Wrong. Again. All this does is guarantee that when it comes time to measure you your heart will be too small to measure, too shrunken and shriveled to register. That's no way to ask the Father to admit you into the Wedding Feast of Heaven.

But we can't pretend that this command is easy to follow. Jesus knows this too. That's why he adds some incentive to mix: “. . .unless each of you forgives your brother from your heart, [you will be] handed. . .over to the torturers until [you] should pay back the whole debt.” If that's not enough incentive for you, consider this: we will pray the Our Father during this Mass. There we pray together “forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.” Think about what you are asking the Father to do here. You are praying, “Father, please forgive my sins against you in the same way that I forgive the sins of others.” How do you forgive others? Do you forgive others? It's vital that you know the answers b/c you're asking the Father to treat you in the exact same way! The measure you use to measure others will be used to measure you. May I suggest that you choose to measure others with compassion, gifting them with abundant mercy and love, foregoing whatever repayment or punishment you might desire, and reestablishing them as your brother and sister in Christ? You never know when the Father may show up to measure you!

 

 

 

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10 September 2020

What's your measure?

23rd Week OT (R)

Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP

St Dominic Priory, NOLA


In an interview posted on Youtube, Eleonore Stump tells a story about her son calling to tell her that he wanted her to meet the woman he was going to marry. ES responded, “Tell me about her. What does she do? What is she like? What are her goals?” He answered her questions and ES says, “I can't wait to meet her.” We can easily imagine ES seeing the young woman's picture. Talking to her on the phone. And learning everything she can about her future daughter-in-law from her son. ES points out – in the interview – that she knew a lot about the woman before they met. But she didn't love her future DIL until they actually met. ES's point is that “knowing about a person” and “meeting a person” are two radically different sorts of knowing. Apply this distinction to God, as Paul does: “If anyone supposes he knows something, he does not yet know as he ought to know. But if one loves God, one is known by him.” As philosophers, theologians, and preachers, we know a lot about God. We have Scripture, the Tradition, reason, created things – all ways of knowing about God. But none of these will – on its own – bring us to love God. Or to be known by God. To love God and be known by Him, we have to meet Him. As JPII, BXVI, and Francis have said over and over again – our faith is rooted in a personal encounter with God through Christ. A person-to-person meeting that allows us to know God not just know about God. How can such a meeting come about? Jesus tells us that radical dispossession is one way – not just giving up things but giving up Self in the service of others. I don't have to tell you all how difficult this is. The air we breathe is saturated with entitlement, the need for recognition; the promises of power and control; and the constant narcissism of striving for Me, My, and Mine. But the litany of apparent absurdities we read this morning from Luke are designed to diminish the Self in the service of loving God and being known by Him. Love your enemies. Offer the other cheek when struck. Give twice what is necessary. Lend w/o expecting repayment. Stop judging. Give gifts. Forgive. The measure we use to measure others will be used to measure us. So, what's my measure? My Self and My Needs? Or, my God-given desire to love God and to be known by Him?

 

 

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06 September 2020

Me vs. Me; You vs. You

23rd Sunday OT

Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP

St. Bubba's, Turkey Neck, LA*

A spirit of rage and hatred has possessed the land and her people. Portland, Seattle, Milwaukee, Kenosha, D.C. We see it almost every day – screaming, fighting, burning, violence against the innocent; destruction of property; the nearly mindless worship of wrath and vengeance in the streets. Reason and the rule of law seem a distant thing, something that held true long ago and far away. But no more. Those charged with keeping order and protecting the innocent stand by and watch, solemnly chanting the litany of progress and praying that they will be last in line for the guillotine. Even some in the Church have become drunk on the spirit of chaos, deposing the Lord in their hearts for the fleeting but exciting dictatorship of self-righteous finger-pointing, aligning themselves with the words and deeds of those who hate us. When these disordered passions finally burn out, when the consequences of these sins smack us hard in the face, the Church's hangover is going to be staggering. The nation's hangover may very well be fatal. Christ is victorious. . .in the end. But – right now – the battle must be hard fought in the hearts and minds of those who love him. “Love does no evil to the neighbor; hence, love is the fulfillment of the law.”

When we talk about battles we talk about friends and enemies, allies and opponents. Who's with us? Who's against us? There are those who hate us b/c we belong to Christ. They may call themselves our enemies. They may work against the Gospel. They may persecute us or try to recruit us. But we have no enemies in this world. Christ died once for all. This makes every man, woman, and child who lives or will ever live the object of our charity. We have no enemies b/c there is no one we will not try to save. Does this mean that we are obligated to show our bellies to those who hate us? No. That we can't defend ourselves if attacked? No. Does it mean we must welcome them and their unrepentant spirits of rebellion and destruction into the Church as guests? No. Nothing in the Gospel requires us to play the fool in the face of overwhelming even violent opposition. What the Gospel requires is that we do not see those who hate us as our enemies. We show them Christ. Christ in us. Christ in them. And we love b/c love is the fulfillment of the Law. The battle we are fighting isn't Us vs. Them. It's Me vs. Me. It's You vs. You.

Make no mistake. The Devil wants us to think that They are attacking Us, and We have to defend Ourselves in kind. They punch. We punch back twice as hard. And in punching back twice as hard We grow just that much closer to becoming Them. If the Devil can keep us focused on political events, politicians, court battles, elections, and convince us that our lives depend on getting the right people in office to defend us, then he can convince us that our salvation is to be found in the princes of this world. He can get us to ignore the spiritual battles that rage in the hearts and minds of every Christian and lay our faith and hope at the feet of a political party or a candidate or a platform. He can con us into thinking that we can only do Good by voting well. This time the right governor, Senator, President will bring us glory and vanquish evil. It's a lie. Yes, we must participate in civil society and promote the Common Good. But the battle that matters in the Long Run is the battle you and I are waging against ourselves. Who is my King? Who rules my heart and mind? Who died for me on the Cross? Who am I vowed to make manifest in my body, in my flesh and blood? Who do I love more than my political ideology, my sexual preference, my race, my sex, my class? Who sits at the center of my being. . .?

If you cannot answer those question with a resounding “Christ!” then the battle – for you – is lost already. You might ask yourself: how did I lose? Was I too much with the world and not enough with Christ? Maybe I identified Christ too closely with some secular ideology or politician. Maybe I worked hard on “doing justice” and not enough on “being just.” Perhaps I thought those who opposed my political preferences were my spiritual enemies, and I fought them until I became them. I didn't love sacrificially. I didn't love mercifully. I didn't love at all. I opposed, confronted, and rebuked. But I didn't pray, fast, or sacrifice. I argued, rebutted, and campaigned. But I didn't bear witness, proclaim the Gospel, or forgive. I didn't see – in time – that we are spiritually sick, spiritually wounded. . .and I just made us sicker; I poured my salt on our wound. I fought, but did I love? The victory belongs to Christ and to those who love him. Your real enemy is you tempted to abandon Christ and embrace the world.

*This is my imaginary parish where I preach when a deacon is preaching at the real parish

 

 

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03 September 2020

Preaching in the Deep

 

St. Gregory the Great

Fr. Philip Neri Powell, O

St. Dominic Priory, NOLA


You won't catch a fish big enough to brag about in a pond. A fish worthy of boasting about has to be caught in deeper water. But deeper water comes with a number of hazards – bigger waves, bigger storms, better chance of getting lost, and less chance of getting rescued. Those are the chances you take to enter the world of Big Fish Boasting! What if we take Jesus to be talking about preaching instead of fishing? What does it mean then to “go out into the deep”? Well, if we think of preaching as a pond-side afternoon of dropping a hook and taking a nap – as a hobby, or something to do when we feel like doing nothing –, then “going out into the deep” has to be that sort of preaching that demands planning, preparation, research; a willingness to challenge and be challenged; a deeply seeded desire for adventure; and an openness to the possibility of both getting lost and catching your White Whale. Preaching in the deep like fishing in the deep not only increases the odds of catching more and bigger fish, it also intensifies the thrill of the chase and hones the preacher's skills.

That's the good stuff. What about the dangers of preaching in the deep? Well, you will ride bigger waves – higher highs and lower lows; more turbulence, opposition. You will confront bigger storms – louder noise, frightening headwinds; risk lightening strikes and the threat of going overboard. The chances of getting lost are greater the further out you go, the further away you travel from a safe port, a safe pulpit. And all these combine to make it harder and harder for you to be found and rescued from your apparent folly. Even so, to fill your boat to the point of sinking must be worth the risk. It's what we signed for. As Dominican preachers we didn't sign up to be amateur fishermen napping the afternoon away by the side of a pond. We signed up as pros to compete in the international Deep Water Championship. When the Lord says, “Go out into the deep,” we know he means for us to bring everything we have and everything we are to the sport and ready ourselves for whatever hazards we encounter and whatever rewards we reap. All the fish – big and small – belong to him. So do the fishermen. So, as we prepare for our next trip out, hear him one more time, “Do not be afraid.”

 

 

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30 August 2020

Beware False Christs

AUDIO FILE

22nd Sunday OT

Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP

OLR, NOLA



Oh, how quickly the mighty fall! Just last week, Jesus crowned Peter “the Rock,” giving him the keys to the Kingdom; making him the Royal Steward, the foundation stone of the Church. Tonight, we hear Jesus call that same Peter “Satan,” accusing him of betrayal and scandal; putting Peter firmly behind him, clearing the way to his cross in Jerusalem. What happened? What happened to Simon Peter's rock-like faith in Christ? He'd suffered no significant losses in the meantime. He'd had no major existential crises; no tragedies of epic proportions. As far as we know, he'd followed along behind Jesus all this time, happily listening to his Master, taking it all in and just being a faithful disciple. Then the Lord shows his students that “he must go to Jerusalem and suffer greatly [. . .] and be killed and on the third day be raised.” How does Peter's rock-like faith prompt him to respond? Does he leap for joy, knowing that our salvation is at hand? Does he pack his bags, ready to follow Christ to the Cross? No. Instead, he rebukes Jesus, saying, “God forbid, Lord! No such thing shall ever happen to you.” Peter's faith meets Peter's fear in battle, and fear wins. 
 

Consider: Peter is first among the disciples. Destined to be the first pope, the first Vicar of Christ on earth. He's set among the other disciples as the one to whom the Father revealed Jesus' identity and mission as the Messiah. The Lord's revelation that he must go to Jerusalem and die for the sins of the world must've shocked Peter to his core. Peter's reaction to this news probably arises out of a genuine love for Jesus and a genuine love for his own skin. Following Christ means following Christ. To Jerusalem. To the Cross. To a sacrificial death. And, eventually, to a resurrection from the grave. But getting to the resurrection part entails suffering through the persecution, torture, and dying parts. Peter's rebuke is understandable from a merely human standpoint. But Jesus isn't seeing his mission and ministry from a merely human standpoint. He's seeing it from all eternity – the whole of the Father's plan for His people. From this view, Peter is an obstacle, a scandal for Christ. He's literally standing in the way, tempting Christ – as Satan did – to abandon his mission in favor of a fully-lived life on earth. Jesus stops this temptation in its tracks and teaches Peter and us how we must proceed: “Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me.” IOW, do as I do. 
 

All of our lives as Catholics we've heard the refrain “deny yourself, take up your cross, follow me.” We've turned the phrase “a cross to bear” into a pale platitude, meaning little more than “well, that's a terrible problem to have.” Got arthritis? Your cross to bear. Got unruly teens in the family? Your cross to bear. Got a bad financial situation? Your cross to bear. The cross Jesus bears along the streets of Jerusalem kills him. It is not only a heavy burden but an instrument of execution. And an instrument of salvation. Arthritis, unruly teens, and an empty checkbook can be heavy burdens, but they are not likely to kill you AND save others. The cross you bear is given to you to build up your faith muscles. To stretch your reliance on hope and tone your eagerness to love and love sacrificially. I can't tell you what your cross is. That knowledge comes with prayer and fasting. But I can tell you that your cross will be most unwelcome, painful, and – if you give God thanks for it – for you, a source of eternal joy. Peter rebukes Christ b/c Peter is scared. For Christ, he is afraid. He is also afraid for himself. No one wants to endure pain and suffering. But if we follow Christ, then the comforts of our middle-class, suburban, American Christianity stand in the way. Like Satan in the desert, this comedic version of the Gospel tempts us to hell.


The False Christs we see everyday attempt to lure us away from The Way, the only way. The False Christ of Legalism tells us that our salvation is found in following the rules. The False Christ of Emotionalism tells us that our salvation is found in feeling the right feelings. The False Christ of Scientism tell us that our salvation is found in “believing in science.” The False Christ of Princes tell us all we need do to be saved is support the right politician. We can add to the list the False Christs of More Money, Career, Prestige and Popularity, Wellness, Revolution, Race/Class/Gender, etc. What all the False Christs have in common is Christ w/o the Cross. Christ w/o sacrifice. Christ w/o Divine Love. Peter wants Christ w/o Jerusalem, w/o the Mount of Skulls. What Christ himself offers is the chance to redeem your life by following him in sacrificial love. That's hard. It's a narrow gate. A potentially bloody path. But it's The Way, the only way. Do not be deceived: Christ w/o the Cross is an obstacle, a scandal. It's the way to nothing at all.








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27 August 2020

Cold, wet, and scared -- STAY AWAKE!

21st Week OT (R)
Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP
St Dominic Priory, NOLA

One of the symptoms of PTSD is persistent vigilance. Past trauma puts the body and soul on notice that at any moment something horrible can happen. Best to stay vigilant and prepared for anything. Over time the wear and tear of being constantly on alert can lead to psychosis and even heart failure. So, is Jesus asking us to risk mental instability and physical illness when he says, “Stay awake!”? No. Obviously not. But he is asking us to abide deeply and persistently in our faith. This means – at least – riding the storms of this world like unsinkable ships, confident that nothing can take us away from his love. The long pause btw the coming of the H.S. and Thursday, August 27, 2020 has been and is reason enough for some to give up waiting on his return, choosing instead to “eat and drink with drunkards” and beat the Lord's servants. And why not? If the Master isn't coming back anytime soon, why not abuse power; steal from the collection plate; step on others, climbing the church's career ladder; take advantage of the vulnerable sexually; indulge in a little extortion and blackmail; assist kings and princes in unraveling the moral fabric of the nation; or even work against the truth of the Gospel from the pulpit and altar? I mean, it's not like he's coming back anytime soon, right? Jesus says, “You do not know on which day your Lord will come.” I don't hear that as a threat or a promise. Just a statement of fact. We don't know. And knowing that we don't know is reason enough – or should be – to keep us faithful. To keep us riding these worldly storms. Cold, wet, scared; yes – but also absolutely confident that the last victory is his and ours.






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