12 May 2020

Fear is a reflex

5th Week of Easter (T)
Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP
St. Dominic Priory, NOLA

Fear is a reflex. Like jerking away from physical pain. It's job is to protect us from harm. It helps us make split-second decisions that keep us alive. Fear warns us away from danger. It works hard to convince us not to take risks. By nature, fear is irrational. It arrives w/o deliberation and does its work quickly and passes. But we can nurture fear. We can hold onto to it and feed it, giving it longer life and more control. Jesus says, “Do not let your hearts be troubled or afraid.” NB. do not let, do not allow, do not choose to be afraid. Fear is an animal reflex. A thing of the moment. Choosing not to live in fear is a thing of faith and reason, trusting that all things work for the good in God's own time. Jesus says that he leaves his peace with us. His peace is a part of our inheritance as sons of the Father. But that peace is not the peace of this world – security, safety, freedom from want. Christ's peace is the sort of peace that comes with knowing that come what may he has won the war. Not every battle we are called upon to fight in his name. But the war. From all eternity, he is the victor and that victory is ours to enjoy w/o fear.



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10 May 2020

No time for a troubled heart

5th Sunday of Easter
Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP
OLR, NOLA

“Do not let your hearts be troubled. . .” Easy for him to say, right? He's not suffering through a deadly pandemic. International economic collapse. Political unrest. And the dissolution of western civilization. How can our hearts NOT be troubled? At 7.00 this morning, the JHU COVID-19 tracker reports over 4 million cases of viral infection worldwide. 1.3 million of those in the U.S. The U.S. unemployment rate is higher than it was during the Great Depression. We are seeing spikes in suicide, domestic abuse, alcohol and drug abuse, and psychological trauma caused by isolation and loneliness. Churches have been closed since mid-March and our political culture is poisoned with fear, ignorance, and power-grabbing politicians. If your heart isn't troubled. . .I have to wonder if you're paying attention! Nonetheless, Jesus commands, “Do not let your hearts be troubled.” How, Lord? “You have faith in God; have faith also in me.” When Christ gives us a command, he also gives us the gifts we need to obey. We are never left on our own to flounder and fail. If he says our hearts should be at peace, then we have what we need to make them so.
 
As has been the case for the last 2,000 years, as followers of Christ, we find ourselves straddling two worlds – this world and all its problems AND the world where we truly belong, the Kingdom of God. And as has been the case for the last 2,000 years, as followers of Christ, we are charged with living in this world while never submitting to it. Never allowing ourselves to be assimilated into the powers and principalities that deny the kingship of Christ. We are charged with living in this world as signs of contradiction, as sacraments of the Father's mercy – visible, tangible, working priests and prophets for His kingdom. When we become “too much with the world,” we take on the priorities and principles of the world. We begin to act and think and speak like those who are ruled by the world. We cease to smell like the flock, and we start to stink like the herd. And our hearts become troubled. We lose who we are in Christ and struggle to see the gifts he has freely given us. With these gifts we can be at peace. Despite the troubles of the world, we can choose to be at peace. Jesus says, “Do not let your hearts be troubled.” Do allow your hearts to be troubled. Do not choose to be anxious, worried, upset. Instead, choose to trust in God. Choose to trust in me. 
 
What does this mean? Say, we choose to trust in God and his Christ. Does the corona virus magically disappear? Do we move back into a booming economy? Are all the psychological problems, drug and alcohol abuse, domestic abuse, and political unrest magically resolved? No. Will my mortgage and credit cards be paid off for me? No. Will I be given free medical insurance? No. Then what's the point of trusting in God and His Christ? First, it's what you vowed to do at your baptism. It's what you've been saying you do every time you come to Mass. Every time you say, “Amen.” Second, trust is a loving relationship between persons; it's not an incantation that produces guaranteed results. Much less an incantation that guarantees the results we want. Third, trusting God – having faith – means keeping our eyes firmly glued to our final end, our ultimate goal – eternal life with the Father. Nothing this world can throw us can force our eyes to shift. We can choose to look elsewhere. But we cannot be forced to look elsewhere. And lastly, there is no other viable option for eternal life. Jesus says, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.”

So, do not let your hearts be troubled. Troubled hearts do not bear witness. Troubled hearts do not love as they ought. They do not forgive as they ought. Troubled hearts do not work in charity for others, or lay claim to their eternal inheritance. Nor do they produce the good fruits of teaching and preaching the Good News. Troubled hearts belong to the world b/c the world needs troubled hearts to maintain control and power. Troubled hearts seek out false security and safety and believe empty promises of a world perfected by policies and procedures. The heart at peace in Christ doesn't fear disease or disability or death b/c such a heart knows that Christ is always there, always present and in control – come what may. The heart at peace in Christ is calmly settled into the kingdom of the Father and rests confidently in the knowledge that all this too shall pass and be made right in His time. Yes, there is suffering behind us, with us, and ahead of us. But the peaceful Christian heart knows how to suffer well; how to suffer with a divine purpose – for the salvation of others. So, while you suffer, “let yourselves be built into a spiritual house to be a holy priesthood to offer spiritual sacrifices.” And believe in the work Christ is doing through you.



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05 May 2020

Do you follow?

4th Week of Easter (T)
Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP
St Dominic Priory, NOLA

From my lit prof days I can still hear the undergrads whining at me, “Just tell us what the poem means! Just tell us plainly.” I didn't know how to do that. Not b/c poetry is a code to be broken for its hidden meaning. Not b/c I was sworn to secrecy by the Illuminati of Poetry. But b/c poetry is a language you have to live with for a while. Like any language it's learned in immersion. Same goes for the providential will of God. The Pharisees want what my undergrads wanted – a plain-spoken, pre-chewed, easy to digest admission from Jesus that he is the Christ. Had they been immersed in the prophetic language of the Father's providential will they would've known Jesus to be the Messiah. Had they persevered in the tradition – the handed-down wisdom – of the prophets they would've seen his works and heard his words as those of his Father. Somewhere along the way they lost the plot and fell into a darkness and deafness of their own making. We are given a lifetime to immerse ourselves in the words and deeds of the Messiah's language of forgiveness, sacrifice, and love. As dangerous as it is to follow him, it is more dangerous still to follow the blind shepherds who would sell us to the wolves. Christ knows his own. How well do we know and follow him?



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26 April 2020

Your choice: life or death?

NB. from 2011. . .

3rd Sunday of Easter
Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP
St. Joseph's, Ponchatula, LA

“Lord, you will show me the path of life!” A declaration, not a request; not a demand, but an outcry of hope. “[Y]ou will not abandon my soul to the netherworld, nor will you suffer your faithful one to undergo corruption. . .You will show me the path to life, abounding joy in your presence. . .” Who might be consoled by this psalm? Someone who hears temptation whispering. Someone abandoned by family and friends. Someone barely hanging on to their faith. No, that's not right. That someone would be asking for refuge, begging for mercy. “Lord, please, show me the path of life!” Someone who declares faith in God with such vehemence, cries out in hope with such assurance is strong in their faith, confident that God will never forsake His loved ones. Someone who declares, “Lord, you will not abandon my soul. . .” is convicted by truth, and at the same time, sorely tested by the enemies of truth. That someone is Peter preaching to the Sanhedrin. All of the Eleven remaining apostles standing before the lawless men who crucified the Lord. Who gives them such confidence, such zeal? The Risen Lord, the one God raised up, “releasing him from the throes of death, because it was impossible for him to be held by it.” Eleven of Christ's ambassadors to a fallen world are brought to man's justice before the Sanhedrin. There they lay claim to the legacy of the resurrection. Sure of their inheritance, Peter quotes David's declaration, “Lord, you will show us the path of life!” This is our claim, our inheritance as well.

Around the year 100 A.D. an anonymous author writes out a booklet and titles it, The Lord's Teaching Through the Twelve Apostles to the Nations. We refer to it as The Didache. Besides the gospels themselves, this booklet is probably the first written witness we have to the teachings of Christ and the early life of the Church. The guiding principle of the text is found in the opening paragraph: “There are two paths, one of life and one of death; but there is a great difference between the two paths.” The rest of the work is a map for the path of life, a map any 21st century Catholic would immediately recognize: “The path of life, then, is this: First, you shall love God who made you; second, your neighbor as yourself; and all things whatsoever you would not have done to you, do not do to another.” There is a summary of the Beatitudes and instructions on how to give alms. The book's description of the path of death is also easily recognizable. “And the path of death is this: First of all it is evil and full of curse. . .” Then follows a long list of sins, in which we find: “. . .murders, adulteries, . . .fornications, thefts, idolatries, magic arts,. . .false witnessings, hypocrisies, double-heartedness, deceit, haughtiness, depravity, self-will, . . .not knowing Him that made them, murderers of children, destroyers of the handiwork of God. . .” The path of life is taken by those willing to sacrifice themselves for the benefit of others. The path of death is taken by those determined to sacrifice others for their own benefit. Lord, you will show us the path of life!

 For a couple of the disciples, after the Lord's resurrection, the path of life begins on the road to Emmaus. While walking along the road, the Lord joins his students and reminds them of all he had taught them. He begins with Moses and the prophets and reveals to them his constant presence in scripture. He reminds them that the prophets foretold his suffering and death and his entrance into glory. Once they arrive home, the Lord sits at table with them, blesses the food, breaks open the bread, gives it to them. “With that their eyes were opened and they recognized him. . .” The Lord vanishes the moment their eyes are opened, but they remember his presence, “Were not our hearts burning within us while he spoke to us on the way and opened the Scriptures to us?” Their hearts were burning! In the company of Christ, listening to his words and breaking bread at the table, the disciples were set on fire with the truth that only he can reveal. That truth, the truth that burns but is never consumed, is that the Lord is indeed risen and because he is risen, we too will rise and join him. We will, that is, if we choose the path of life he has blazed for us, mapped out for us. Christ suffered death—he allowed death, “a death he freely accepted”—in order to reveal to us the beauty and goodness of sacrificing self for the benefit of others, the path of life. Knowing this truth, Peter and the other ten apostles stand before the Sanhedrin and the “lawless men” and proclaim a message once sung by King David: “Lord, you will not abandon my soul to the netherworld, nor will you suffer your holy one to see corruption. You have made known to me the paths of life; you will fill me with joy in your presence.”

Living as we do in a cynical and skeptical age, we are constantly tempted to complicate the simple truths of the faith. Some of us are likely tempted to dismiss historical texts like The Didache as examples of naïve, peasant piety; unsophisticated manuals for those who cannot handle nuanced thinking. Life isn't black and white; it's gray, mostly gray and the circumstances we find ourselves in determine truth, goodness, and beauty. The whole idea that the faith can be reduced to two, mutually exclusive paths is dangerously childish and possibly irrational. But if our choices aren't Life or Death, then what are they? What lies between? A living death? Breathing, eating, working, and all the while being dead inside, living for nothing more than serving self? If Peter and the other apostles are able to confront and defeat their enemies while praising God for showing them the path of life, why can't we? Why can't we choose this path, praise God for showing us the path, and then stand firm, resolute on the truth of the faith and bound eternally to the resurrection we are promised? We can. And we do. Each time we love the unloveable, forgive the unforgiveable, show mercy to the unworthy, and give God thanks for doing the same for us, we choose the path of life. And by choosing life, we see more clearly, hear more sharply, and love more abundantly. If you can leave here this morning and say to a spouse or friend, “Were not our hearts burning within us while [Christ] spoke to us on the way and opened the Scriptures to us?”, if you can say that and mean it, then know that God's truth burns within you and then do what the disciples did: make known to others, to everyone what Christ did for you. . .on the cross, out of the tomb, in the breaking of the bread. Tell them, all of them: the Lord showed me the path to life!


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21 April 2020

Being witnesses from above

2nd Week of Easter (T)
Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP
St Dominic Priory, NOLA

Nicodemus hears Jesus say that all must be “born again” to enter the Kingdom. What Jesus means is “born from above.” Being born from above in water makes each of us a part of the Body. Being born from above in the Spirit gives our Body its end. Nicodemus' misunderstanding prompts Jesus to reveal the purpose of the Church: to bear witness to, to give testimony to the workings of the Spirit over time. Being rational animals, we enjoy the limited gifts of imagination, cognition, and prediction. We enjoy and usually make good use of our gifts to know and understand God's creation, to explore and explain the people and things we can perceive. But the Spirit easily slips passed these gifts, making it difficult to fully grasp what He is doing in us and with us. To know and understand the workings of the Spirit, we must hear the witness of those born from above. Those who have seen Christ raised up and have come to believe in him. These members of the Body – still living and living again – are our memory. Our task now is to live with Christ so truly that we become witnesses from above for those come behind us.


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19 April 2020

Are you unbelieving???

2nd Sunday of Easter (Divine Mercy)
Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP
Our Lady of the Rosary, NOLA

What do we know about Thomas? He's one of the Twelve disciples chosen by Christ to serve as apostles. He's called Didymus b/c he has a twin brother. And we know that he is absent on the night that the Risen Lord appears to his apostles. Oh, and we know that despite having lived and died more than 2,000 years ago, he's a thoroughly modern man. What makes him modern? When told by his friends that Jesus—dead and buried for three days—appeared to them, Thomas proclaims a thoroughly modern standard of truth: “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands and put my finger into the nailmarks. . .I will not believe.” Modern philosophers and scientists would congratulate Thomas for demanding such a sensible and obviously right-thinking empirical standard for assenting to the truth of a claim. Jesus, on the other hand, isn't impressed. Appearing among his apostles a week later, Jesus allows Thomas to test his empirical standard. Now, Thomas believes. Jesus, far from praising his student's rigid need for proof, says, “Have you come to believe because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and have believed.” No one here has seen Jesus as Thomas did. Do we believe? And what difference does it make if we do or do not believe? 


It might seem strange for a Catholic priest to ask a church-full of Christians attending a Sunday Mass whether or not they believe in the Risen Lord. Why would any of us be here if we didn't believe? Let me suggest that there is a difference btw “believing that the Lord is risen” and “believing in the Risen Lord.” Simply believing that the Lord is risen is a matter of assent, saying, “Yes, I believe that” when asked. Believing in the Risen Lord is also a matter of assent—saying, “Yes, I believe that”—but saying Yes to the Risen Lord entails a commitment far more intimate and demanding that merely saying that he is risen. When prompting Thomas to explore his wounds, Jesus says to him, “do not be unbelieving, but believe.” How does Thomas respond? He doesn't say, “I retract my earlier statement of disbelief and now assent to the claim that you are risen.” No. He exclaims, “My Lord and my God!” Believing in the Risen Lord commits us to submitting ourselves to the rule and measure of Christ as the source and summit of all that we are. A church-full of Christians can easily assent to the fact that the Lord is risen w/o ever committing themselves to being ruled by the Risen Lord. Doubt about the mechanics of the resurrection is the smallest obstacle we face when it comes to bending the knee to Christ our King. 


How does Thomas overcome his disbelief? Through Christ's mercy. It is b/c he is merciful that Jesus allows Thomas to satisfy his doubts on his own terms. We know that this is an act of mercy b/c Jesus says to Thomas, “Blessed are those who have not seen and have believed.” Our Lord could've very easily left Thomas stewing in his doubt, left him outside the company of the blessed, and w/o the benefits of genuine belief. Instead, Jesus shows him mercy. Thomas is charged with the sin of disbelief, found guilty, and then pardoned; pardoned for no other reason than for the sake of the Gospel. The Gospel needs Thomas. And Peter and John and James and you and me. So, it is vital that we are not unbelieving but believing, that we are committed—heart, body, mind—to living under the rule and measure of Christ; thinking every thought, speaking every word, doing every deed for the sake of Christ and the spreading of his Good News. What is the Good News of Christ? That God freely offers His abundant mercy to all sinners. With repentance, we receive all that He generosity provides through the once for all sacrifice of His Christ on the cross. His mercy is our freedom from sin and our license to tell the whole world that Christ is Lord and God! 


Not too long after this meeting btw Jesus and Thomas, the apostles find themselves consumed by the Holy Spirit at Pentecost and set upon the world to preach the Good News and accomplish mighty deeds in Christ's name. Luke tells us in Acts that “many signs and wonders were done among the people at the hands of the apostles. . .the people esteemed them. . .more than ever. . .great numbers of men and women, were added to them.” What were these signs and wonders? What exactly were the apostles doing and saying to bring so many to Christ? We know from Acts that the apostles were preaching God's mercy; baptizing those who repented; healing the sick and injured; freeing souls from unclean spirits; teaching the Word and breaking bread in memoriam. They were establishing the Lord's household among those who answered Christ's call to follow him. Why did they do these things? So that all may come to believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that through this belief they may have life in his name. When we come to believe in the Risen Lord, when we come to trust in his name, we too accomplish mighty deeds, preach his Good News, and strengthen his household for all who answer his call to repentance and holiness. 


Do you believe? And what difference does it make if you do or do not believe? Do you call on his name in faith? And what difference does it make if you do or do not? After appearing to Thomas and some of the other disciples, Jesus reveals himself again at the Sea of Tiberias. To this group of disciples, Jesus not only reveals himself as the Risen Lord, he also reveals to them why it is necessary to listen to and obey his commands. The disciples are fishing and not having any luck. Jesus—disguised—tells the Beloved Disciple to cast his net over the right side of the boat. He obeys. The catch is so large that they can barely haul it in. At that moment, the B.D. recognizes Jesus and says to Peter, “It is the Lord!” Note that Jesus is unrecognizable to the disciples until the B.D. listens to and obeys his commands. The miraculous haul of fish is a sign for the B.D., and he instantly sees his Risen Lord. What difference does belief make? Belief in Christ makes it possible for us to see his words and deeds speaking and working in our lives. Belief in Christ gives us the courage and strength necessary to repeat his words and deeds, to put his words and deeds to work in building and fortifying his royal household. 


Belief in the Risen Lord means submitting ourselves to Christ as our only rule and measure. The disciples do not recognize the Lord on the road to Emmaus. Nor when he visits them on the shore of the Sea of Tiberias. Nor will Thomas believe that he is risen until he appears in the flesh for inspection. Doubt, worry, fear, pride—all of these cloud the disciples' eyes and plug up their ears. Btw Easter and Pentecost the disciples find it difficult to recognize the Risen Lord b/c they have yet to make Christ the rule and measure of their hearts and minds. Here we are btw Easter morning and Pentecost. Does Christ rule our lives? Do we measure our holiness against his? What does anxiety measure? What does fear demand of its subjects? The Risen Lord gives us one last command before he ascends to the Father, “Peace be with you.” Be at peace. If our hearts and minds are torn apart by dread, or frightened by the unknown, or troubled by our past, then we cannot rest in the sure knowledge that Christ died for us b/c he loves us. And if we cannot rest knowing this truth, then we cannot come to believe in the Risen Lord. Be at peace. . .and come to believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that through this belief you may have life eternal.



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29 March 2020

The Catholic Zombie Virus

NB. Not many chances to preach these days, so here's one from 2011. . .

5th Sunday of Lent 2011 Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP
St. Joseph, Ponchatula, LA

Brothers and sisters, I bring you some dramatic news this morning! Reports have come in from all over the world that the dead walk among us. They've been sighted in all the world's major cities, shambling around dressed like the living, doing the ordinary things that the living do. They are difficult to spot since their demeanor is easily confused with those who still cling to life. They go to work, eat their family meals; go to school, church, the grocery store. The media have given these deceased mimics a group name. They are called simply, “The Dead.” But since that label is rather boring, I've decided to refer to them as Zombies. So, yes, Zombies walk among us, and more specifically, Catholic Zombies walk among us and pray among us and go to communion with us. In fact, there are probably several right here this morning! Otherwise normal looking, normal sounding Catholics who shamble around in their living bodies without a living spirit. What animates them, what gives them the appearance of being alive is uncertain. What is certain is that they are truly dead, and that their bodies are a walking grave. What can be done for these poor spiritless creatures? They must be freed from what binds them to the grave; freed from the walking death of sin. 

In the story of Lazarus' resurrection, we have an abridged version of the Dummies Guide to Catholic Zombies. This handy guide helps us to identify, diagnose, and treat those who appear to be alive in Christ but are actually long dead to his spirit. A warning page 23 of the Guide calls our attention to an uncomfortable truth: “The Catholic Zombie virus is virulent and unpredictable. It can infect anyone at anytime. It attacks the Catholic's sin-immunity response system, replicating its viral disobedience-DNA and leaves the Spirit of Christ Defense Network incapable of properly responding to temptation. No one is immune. Even the holiest Catholic is susceptible to infection and re-infection.” As a start to the recovery process, the Guide refers both the infected and their care-givers to the story of Lazarus' resurrection and to Paul's short treatise on the relationship between the spiritually dead and Christ. These two passages make it clear that the truly living—those who live in Christ, body and soul—live b/c they dwell in the Lord's righteousness, believing wholeheartedly in the Lord when He says to them, “O my people, I will open your graves and have you rise from them. . .Then you shall know that I am the LORD, when I open your graves and have you rise from them, O my people!” Working backwards from cure to disease, the Guide reports that those most susceptible to infection by the Catholic Zombie virus are those who allow their Christ Defense Network to become weakened through inattention to personal prayer, the sacraments, good works, and holy reading. Working from disease to cure, we can see that the best treatment for the Zombie Catholic is personal prayer, the sacraments, good works, and holy reading. In other words, the best treatment is prevention. 

To get a better grip on how we can prevent the spread of the Catholic Zombie virus more effectively, let's look at Lazarus' resurrection story and tease out exactly how prevention works. Probably the most obvious tact to take in preventing the spread of the virus is to ensure that everyone around you knows the basics of good spiritual hygiene. For example, when Lazarus' sister, Martha, asserts to her brother's physician, Jesus, that Lazarus would rise again on the last day, Dr. Jesus says, “I am the resurrection and the life; whoever believes in me, even if he dies, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die.” After this brief revelation, Jesus asks Martha, “Do you believe this?” She responds, “Yes, Lord. I have come to believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God, the one who is coming into the world.” So, the first step to prevention is a profession of faith in the Christ, the Son of God. By believing in the Christ, who is the resurrection and the life, we can bolster our resistance to the Catholic Zombie virus and ward off the onslaught of temptations that comes from doubt.  

Another step in good spiritual hygiene is obedience to the Christ. The Guide points out that obedience is not a matter of mindless compliance with rules and regulations. Obedience starts by trusting Christ's wisdom and believing in the promises of his Father. Listen first, then act. Lazarus emerges from his tomb after having been dead for four days. Martha, Mary, and the disciples all play essential roles in his resurrection by obeying Christ. Jesus says to the disciples, “Let us go to back to Judea.” And they do. He asks to see Mary. And she runs to him. He asks to see Lazarus. And they take him to the tomb. He orders the tombstone removed. They obey. He cries out, “Lazarus, come out!” And he does. Finally, with the newly resurrected Lazarus standing before him, Jesus says, “Untie him and let him go.” We know that Jesus' intervention here works as prevention b/c John reports, “Now many of the Jews who had come to Mary and seen what he had done began to believe in him.” Belief in the Christ is the first step in preventing the spread of the zombie virus! With belief comes repentance and with repentance comes the overwhelming mercy of God. Once we have come to depend absolutely on God's mercy, obedience to His Word is not only no longer a burden, it is a privilege—a privilege that inoculates believers against the weaknesses of doubt, anxiety, and pride.  

The final step in good spiritual hygiene is hope in the resurrection. The Lazarus story contains a very odd scene. Jesus is informed that Lazarus is sick and on the verge of death, John reports, “. . .when [Jesus] heard that [Lazarus] was ill, he remained for two days in the place where he was.” His friend is deathly ill and Jesus decides to hang around Bethany for two days. Hardly the reaction we would expect. Later on, Mary chastises Jesus for the delay, saying, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” The Jews who went with Mary to visit Jesus, upon seeing Jesus weep for the grief of the sisters, say, “Could not the one who opened the eyes of the blind man have done something so that this man would not have died?” Why did Jesus delay visiting his dying friend? To instill in his disciples the virtue of hope, to bolster in them an immunity to the despair that death often brings. When he first heard that Lazarus was dying, Jesus says, “This illness is not to end in death, but is for the glory of God, that the Son of God may be glorified through it.” Lazarus' resurrection from the tomb serves to show the disciples (and us) that death is not an end for the believing soul. The hope of life after death renders the Catholic Zombie virus inert. With a deeply held hope in Christ, we too will hear him order us out of the tomb and tell our family and friends, “Untie him and let him go.” 

The Catholic Zombie virus is deadly. It can kill the spirit of Christ in us and leave us to walk among the living and the dead. The best treatment is prevention. Personal prayer, the sacraments, good works, and holy reading. But none of these is effective without a firm belief in the Christ, a willingness to obey his commands, and the good habit of hoping upon the resurrection. If you are dead inside, take heart, b/c the Lord has promised, “O my people, I will open your graves and have you rise from them. . . I will put my spirit in you that you may live. . .thus you shall know that I am the LORD. I have promised, and I will do it, says the LORD.”


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22 March 2020

Laetare in the Time of Plague!

4th Sunday of Lent (Laetare in the Time of Plague)
Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP
St. Dominic, NOLA

Epidemics. Natural and man-made disasters. War. Political upheaval. These kinds of events turn our carefully crafted social order upside-down and challenge us to restore things to a comfortable normal. We deploy everything in our arsenal to make it all right again. And while we work to regain balance, we suffer. Sometimes just a little. Sometimes a lot more than we think we can bear. Here in New Orleans, we use Katrina as our standard for what counts as a Real Disaster. Thousands dead. Even more displaced. Millions in damaged property. Whole neighborhoods lost for good. Are we fully recovered 15yrs later? No. Not really. The walls of this church are still marked with the flood waters. And they should be. Because the people of this parish are marked as well. Like everyone else who lived through the hurricane surge, they are marked with the suffering of enduring a disaster. But these marks of suffering rest atop a deeper, more fundamental mark – the mark of Christ's light. Paul reminds us, b/c we need to remember, “You were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Live as children of light, for light produces every kind of goodness and righteousness and truth.” Before you suffer; long before you endure disaster, epidemic, or war, you are marked as a child of the light. 
 
This is a Lent no one wanted or expected. We want Lent to be a time of fasting, a time away from the usual. And we expect Lent to be a season of surrender and of small miseries. But none of us wanted or expected this Lent to be long days and weeks of living and dying without the efficacious graces of the sacraments. None of us wanted or expected this Lent to be defined by lock-downs, social-distancing, and fears of infection. No one wants to be abandoned, and no one expects to be betrayed. But maybe we should've. Maybe we should've expected all of this. We are children of the light in Christ. Come Good Friday, if we follow him, there will be no surprises. There will be abandonment, betrayal, loneliness, and death. For him and for us. Our suffering will be heavier this year. More “real” than in the recent past. But so will the light we share with Christ. As our suffering increases, his light grows brighter. So we, as children of light, must produce every kind of goodness and righteousness and truth. That's our response, our supernatural instinct. Make no mistake: this is a time of testing, a trial. Panic, selfishness, hysteria, and fear-mongering are the tools of darkness. You have come into the light of Christ. Stay there. Come what may.

What has come is an epidemic. A pandemic. The latest in a long, storied line of diseases to infect the world. We are asking how, why, where, how many, who, and when. Like the disciples with the man born blind, we want to know the why's of this affliction. Science's answer is simple: viruses spread, infect, replicate, and kill. As Catholics, we accept and respect scientific knowledge as true. All truth is God's truth. We also know, as children of Christ's light, our response to this epidemic must go beyond – well beyond – what the world calls us to. Jesus answers the disciples, concerning the man born blind, “Neither he nor his parents sinned; it is so that the works of God might be made visible through him.” When we shine the light of Christ on this viral epidemic, can we see how the works of God might be made visible? Jesus goes on to say, “We have to do the works of the one who sent me while it is day. Night is coming when no one can work.” It is still day. And we have the work of the one who sent us to do. Our work is to produce goodness and righteousness and truth. Healing, light, and the mercy and love of Christ Jesus!

Of course. Of course! But what do we do? First, we listen to Paul again, “Try to learn what is pleasing to the Lord. Take no part in the fruitless works of darkness.” Do not panic. Do not be selfish. Do not indulge in hysteria. And do create fear. Second, all truth is God's truth. We listen to our medical experts, and we “flatten the curve.” IOW, we slow the spread of the virus by observing social-distancing and good hygiene. Third, in prayer and fasting, we offer this epidemic to God in sacrifice. We make it holy and turn it at every opportunity into an epidemic of giving God greater glory. The light of Christ is shining on the Church. Our first priory is not “safety.” That's corporate PR double-speak. Our first priory as the Body of Christ – always and everywhere – is the teaching and preaching of the freely offered mercy of God to sinners. Freedom from sin. Freedom from death. Our goal is not to protect “healthy bodies” but to produce holy persons – holy bodies with holy souls. Fourth, as children of the Light in Christ, we are fundamentally a priestly people, mediating and interceding for the salvation of the world. Absolutely, we pray for an end to this pandemic. No question. But we also pray this pandemic will make visible the works of God among us. We, you and I, make these works visible.

This is Laetare Sunday. Every year, midway through our Lenten trek, we are given a chance to rejoice. And it may seem out of place to rejoice during a time of plague. But rejoicing is exactly what we need to be doing. If this epidemic is a test of our resolve to make the works of God visible to the world, then what else can we do but rejoice? With our eyes firmly fixed on our goal in heaven, and while we live in this world, the only sane response to suffering and death is rejoicing. We will suffer. And we will die. We can deny, demure, struggle, and complain. We can philosophize and theologize and try our best to wiggle a way out. But. But. There is no avoiding suffering and death. The choice is btw suffering and dying in the dark, and remaining in the darkness forever. Or suffering and dying in the light, and living forever in the light of Christ. So. Rejoice! You are children in the light. Go and make visible the works of God while the day is still with us!
 
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15 March 2020

Panic is not a virtue

3rd Sunday of Lent
Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP
OLR, NOLA

I got in trouble last week. I made the mistake of expressing an opinion about the coronavirus hysteria being whipped up by the Talking Heads on TV. Because I am half-Dominican and half-Vulcan, I am genetically incapable of panicking. Some of my Facebook friends are not so constituted. Thus, I was pilloried for allegedly encouraging people not to take precautions and told that I would be responsible for anyone in the future who becomes infected and dies. So much power should never be in the hands of one man! I tried to defend myself, but, alas, the frenzy had taken hold, and I was shouted down. Not the first time. Won't be the last. So, in light of this Lenten season and our faith in the resurrection at the end of the age, how do we choose to come face-to-face with sickness and death? That is, with what attitude do we confront our mortality? Anxiety? Fear? Disappointment? Relief? Paul writes to the Romans, “Since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through Christ, [...] and we boast in hope of the glory of God. And hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out into our hearts[...].” We look sickness and death in the eye. . .and we hope.

Some of you may have heard me just say that we look sickness and death in the eye and cross our fingers, hoping that we won't get sick and die. Or that we should just carry on as usual, throwing the dice and calling on Lady Luck to give us a winning streak of seven's. That's not what I said. What I said was that we must choose to look sickness and death in the eye through the theological virtue of hope, the infused good habit of desiring eternal life together with the expectation of obtaining it. For the follower of Christ, hope is never a gamble. Hope is never just a spin of the roulette wheel. Hope is what we are given by God to fuel our desire for Him, and our sure expectation that we will spend life eternal in His presence. We look over and above this world – it's failures, disappointments, illnesses, and deaths – and we fix our desiring-gaze on His glory. That's our end, our goal, our telos. That's where we truly belong, our supernatural home. Yes, we must live in the world with all its diseases and injuries. But these diseases and injuries do not define us. They cannot tell us who we are nor how we should pass from this life. “The love of God has been poured out into our hearts...” Our hearts brim to bursting with the Living Water of Christ Jesus! 
 
One of the more prominent goals of Lent is to prepare ourselves to be vessels for Christ's living water. Our first step is to say along with the Samaritan woman, “Sir, give me this water, so that I may not be thirsty.” In other words, the first step is for each one of us to ask Christ to pour into our hearts and minds everything we need to survive in this world and thrive in the next. Once we've asked, we receive. We open ourselves, in surrender, to the living water, the living spirit of Christ who wills for us our eternal salvation. If you think your sins prevent you from asking for this gift, think again. The Samaritan woman has six husbands! Christ doesn't condemn her. He doesn't congratulate her either. He looks into the depths of her soul and sees her searching for happiness, a happiness that only he and his Father can provide. Once she has recognized Jesus as the Messiah, she is able to go among the other Samaritans and proclaim the Good News that the long-awaited Savior has arrived. Our sins do not prevent Christ from offering us redemption, but they do prevent us from receiving all that he has to offer. Lent is our time to become the best possible vessels for receiving Christ's mercy and pouring it out for others. 
 
As our National Emergency continues, we, as followers of Christ have a duty to be ambassadors of hope. Not shills for panic and hysteria. With our hearts and minds firmly fix on our supernatural end, we do everything we can to become the best possible vessels for Christ's living waters. Take precautions. Pay attention to the medical experts. Limit personal interactions. But NEVER give in to the despair and desperation that infects those w/o hope. We are not tasked with spreading fear, anxiety, or chaos. We are tasked with being lights for the world. Now is your chance to show the world and one another what genuine, Christian hope looks like. As these Lenten days pass and things in the city get better. . .or worse. . .ask yourself: “Is the LORD in our midst or not?” For us, right now, that sounds like a rhetorical question. But as your hope wavers, it becomes The Question. And the answer is always: “YES!” He is with us always. So, look sickness, death, despair, desperation, and sin, look them square in the eye and hope. Hope like you've never hoped before, remembering that “God proves his love for us in that while we were still sinners Christ died for us.”



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08 March 2020

Grace conquers fear!

2nd Sunday of Lent
Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP
OLR, NOLA

We all know that Lent is about prayer, fasting, and alms-giving. We know it's about “giving something up” for 40 days. Fish-frys on Friday. Getting ourselves ready for Easter. So, we're about ten days in, and it's normal to for us to wonder, how am I doing? But before we can answer that question, we need to think about how we are going to measure success and failure. The usual way to measure how we're doing would be to take stock of our fasting: am I keeping my Lenten promise not to eat chocolate or not to drink coffee or not to smoke or ____________? Another way might be to take stock of my prayer life. Am I praying more? Am I going to daily Mass like I said I would? In other words, we could measure success/failure with how well we are behaving, how well we are doing or not doing what we promised to do or not to do. Here's another way, perhaps a more mature way, to measure: am I bearing my share of hardship for the Gospel? Am I bearing this hardship with my own strength, or am I calling on the strength that God alone can provide?If you're trying bear your hardship w/o God, hear this command from Christ, “Rise! And do not be afraid!”

Fear is a great motivator for getting things done. Out of fear we can fast, pray, and give alms. We can give up most anything; pray longer, harder, and faster; and dig deep into our pockets. But fear is also a great destroyer of freedom. It's hard to argue that we're freely bearing our hardships for the Gospel if we are doing so b/c we are afraid of failure, or afraid of God, or afraid of Hell. Fear gets it done, but fear cannot get it done freely. And God wants our sacrifices to be truly given, freely offered. Not just handed over at the point of a threat but eagerly, voluntarily done for no other reason than we need to give God greater glory. And so, Christ commands us to “rise and do not be afraid.” Yes, he commands. Because sometimes we need to be ordered to do something so that we can see that what we are being ordered to do is nothing dangerous or painful, and actually for the best. Once we obey, the second, third, fourth time, we grow in holiness b/c we obey out of love and not fear. Paul writes, “He saved us and called us to a holy life, not according to our works but according to his own design and the grace bestowed on us in Christ Jesus.” Grace conquers fear. Grace turns our fearful obedience into true and worthy sacrifices. 
 
How we understand our sacrifices is vital to their effectiveness. First, your sacrifices do not “buy” you holiness. You are not purchasing amounts of holiness by giving up your favorite vices. Small sacrifices buy you small amounts of holiness, and bigger sacrifices buy you larger amounts of holiness. Second, you aren't changing God's mind about you by sacrificing your vices. You are not performing some kind of magical ritual that forces God to love you more b/c you abstain from a vice. Third, prayer and alms-giving during Lent aren't bribes to God to persuade Him not to be angry with you, nor are they goodies meant to entice Him to be happy with you. The very idea that anything we can do or say or think has the power to change God in any way is a pagan notion, and one we need to vigorously remove from our thinking. The pagan thinks in terms of appeasing the gods or bribing them into favorable action. The Christian knows that every good gift, every blessing, every grace he/she will ever receive has already been given. Our Lenten sacrifices make it possible for us to see more clearly all that God has given us and more easily receive what He has given. God makes our sacrifices true and worthy – not us.

If you are plowing through Lent fueled by fear, or just getting by on small doses of guilt, then hear the Lord one more time, “Rise! Do not be afraid!” Christ appears in glory to Peter, James, and John not to intimidate them but to reveal to them what a life lived in holiness and sacrifice will look like after death. He reveals the end, the goal of a Christian life – eternal life lived in the glory of God. Your Lenten sacrifices, both small and great, freely and joyfully given to God, take you further away from the world, further away from destructive attachments and distracting dramas, and into the hidden life of Christ. Fear cannot enter such a life. Because fear is rooted in ignorance, in not knowing. But we know. Christ shows us how it all ends. It all ends in glory. Shining like the sun, white as light. It all ends with God the Father proclaiming the Sonship of Jesus and endowing us with our inheritance. And our Lenten purification ends with the resurrection of the body and life everlasting. So, rise and do not be afraid. Pray. Fast. Give alms. And do so joyfully, gladly, eagerly. Sacrifice your fear and expect the glory of God!



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01 March 2020

The Devil with Jesus in the desert. . .

NB. Deacon is preaching at OLR this evening. Below is one of the first homilies I preached as a priest. It's an experimental piece that some found disturbing. . .

1st Sunday of Lent 2006
Fr. Philip N. Powell, OP
Church of the Incarnation, University of Dallas


 I find him sitting with his back against a rock, staring at the heat waving above the dry-cracked river bed. He smells of hot cedar smoke, burnt bees’ wax, and drying sweat. When my shadow touches his bare feet, he moves them away and turns as if to look at me, then stops and stares again at the blistering sand. I wave my hand to greet him, my shadow again touching his feet and legs. This time he doesn’t move. It’s always the same with him. He knows I’m here. Right here with him. But he stubbornly ignores me or moves away at my dark touch. I take a deep breath, gather my silk robes around my legs to sit, and as I fall into place in front of him, he sighs and begins to pray aloud. Scratchy, mumbling nonsense. Groveling little bits of spontaneous poetry and half-remembered words and phrases stolen from thin, crumbling scrolls. I just listen and wait. Most days we sit together in silence like this, waiting on one another.

When the sun touches the tallest mountain, he stops muttering. The dry burn of the desert wind eases a bit. There’s a promise of wet air, of moisture from somewhere out of the north. I clear my throat. I see a small smile on his lips. Just as I open my mouth to argue again, wild beasts begin to gather near us. This happens every night about this time. And I am surprised again, always surprised, by the fierce brilliance of the crown of angels that seems to float miles away behind his head. Tensed to fight, they just hold there radiating His glory—a sky crowded with angelic mirrors flashing His beauty. How very servile of them to pose so. How very grand it all is. A perfect waste of power.

I catch him watching me watch his ministers. You see, he knows that I know that he won’t call them. He could. No doubt. But he won’t. It’s a matter to pride with him. That’s my secret weapon: his pride. He’s the favored Son. I’m the fallen Daystar. He’s the Anointed One. I’m the Marked One. He is Righteousness and I am Rebellion. And I’m here, again, to show him the error of his Way, to offer him something far better than a life wasted on dumb humility, unrequited love, and pointless sacrifice. I am here to tempt him away from his self-destructive path, away from the terrible, bloody death that those dirty little apes he loves so much will give him. I will show him riches, power, and his own pride. I will tempt him to resist me on his own, without those shiny angels coming to his rescue!

I gather myself for the show, for the theatre of the absurd that will surely wake him up to his desperate folly. But before I can collect myself fully, he starts to chuckle. Just a small laugh at first. Then he burst out with a deep guffaw! A belly laugh from the Son of God. I just stare at him. Surely the heat has driven him mad. He stops. And he opens his eyes, looking at me, through me, right to the center of the goodness that is my very existence. I fumble for an excuse, some reason to protest the invasion of my privacy, but I can only stare back at the fullness of beauty, goodness, and truth that He Is.

Without moving he says, “Perdition, you are here again to lie to me, to put between me and our Father a temptation. Do it then.” I swallow hard and plead, “My Lord, can’t you see that the course laid out for you is disastrous? Can’t you see the possibilities for us, the potential of our rule if you would turn to me for help? Can’t you see your ignominious end? The scandal of it!” He chuckles again, “You are worried about scandal? Try another one, Deceiver. Put yourself behind me so that I may go forward. You are dust and wind.” He gently waves his hand toward the cooling desert. I grow angry at his dismissal, “Wow! You really are stupidity itself, aren’t you. Wasted power, wasted opportunities.”

I sputter for a while longer, hoping that my indignity at his rudeness will move him to talk to me again. Nothing. I conjure images of wealth—jewels, fine horses, palaces. Nothing. I conjure images of power—a throne for the worlds, slaves, armies. Nothing. Finally, I conjure images of personal dignity—his freedom from the trails ahead, the esteem of his rabbinical colleagues, the love of the crowds cheering him. Nothing. Again, nothing.

I gird my silk robes, bracing myself for one final assault on this mulish Nazarene. I shout at him: “You’re proud! It’s pride that makes you think you are better than my gifts, too good to pick up what I give you. Pride!” He shifts his feet under him, rises to stand before me. He looks over my head as if reading a text behind me, “You are nothing, brother. Shapes, shadows, quick glimpses, and shallow sighs.” My indignity is unmatchable! “I am Lucifer, Morning Light! I am First Chosen of the Angels! I know who I am!” His eyes move to focus on mine. He squints against a finally setting sun, “I will teach you who you are. Fallen creature. Sinner. Liar. Killer of Hope. Tempter. I know your true names: Perdition. Chaos. Betrayal. You cannot win with me because I am driven here by the Spirit of our Father to fast and pray and to prepare myself for what I am about.”

Panicked, I reach for what I have, anything at all, and say, “They won’t love you for your sacrifice, you know? They will not come to you after you are betrayed and convicted, and sent into the dead ground. They will deny you. They will run and hide and waste time pointing fingers and accusing one another. I will make sure that they forget you.” If anything he looked calmer, “Yes, I suppose you will. But they like me will have their forty days in the desert, their time and place apart to burn away the excess, to trim the burdensome and ridiculous, to pray and serve, and to remember that they are dust—dust given life by our Father’s breath and made holy in His love for them.”

What arrogance! The man is insane. I have to ask, “You came into this dead waste to pray and serve and to remember that you are dust? You? The favored Son? The Messiah? You fled to this place? Why? Why would you do such a stupid thing?” Again, he smiles slightly at me, at my vehemence, and says, “I will teach you again, Satan. I am in this desert for forty days to remember the journey of Moses and his people out of slavery. I am in this desert for forty days to teach those to come how to live with our Father. I am here to survive with Him alone, to live stripped of pretense, theatre, guile, and luxurious want. I am here so that those whom you will tempt tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow will know that they need only to call upon the Father’s mercy, to repent, believe the gospel, and then know that they are free of you forever.” His eyes blaze for a moment, then calm again.

I give up! My time with him is up anyway. My time with him is wasted breath. You, you however, well, you’re just beginning, aren’t you? What, day five or six, now, of the forty? Come, let me show you to my favorite rock and the riches I can offer you. Let me show you my toys, my little inventions, and help you choose a Way more to my…I mean…your liking.

So tell me, little ones, what tempts you?



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23 February 2020

Be perfect. . .follow Christ!

Audio File

7th Sunday OT
Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP
St Anthony/OLR, NOLA

It seems an impossible task: to be perfect as our Heavenly Father is perfect. Not only does this task seem impossible in practice, but it's not entirely clear what the task actually is or how we are to achieve it. The Lord tells Moses to give His people this message: “Be holy, for I, the LORD, your God, am holy.” Is the Father's perfection also His holiness? Yes, if by holiness we mean “set-apartness,” “totally other than.” We say that God is both imminent in His creation and wholly transcendent of it. Both in and totally beyond all that He has created and holds in being. If we are to be perfect/holy as the Father is perfect/holy, then we too must be in the world and totally beyond it. We live and move and have our being in God. That's how we transcend the world. We also live and move and have our being in the world. And this is where things get complicated. As followers of Christ, we are given the mission of living in the world and at the same time not being ruled by the world. Our king, our ruler is Christ. Our kingdom, our citizenship is in heaven. So, how do we become perfect as the Father is perfect? 
 
St. Paul gives us some direction. He writes to the Corinthians, “Do you not know that you are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwells in you?” This sounds familiar. It should. We've heard it all our lives. But in Paul's day, it was a radical claim. Temples were large, stone structures that housed the gods. Prayer, music, sacrifice would bring the spirit of the gods into the building to receive their followers' worship. Even the Jews had a temple where the spirit of the Lord would descend once a year to commune with the High Priest. For Paul to teach that every baptized person is a living, breathing temple capable of housing the spirit of the Lord – that is outrageous! That would mean that every baptized person is a priest capable of offering sacrifice! That they are all empowered to commune directly with God! That they can intercede for one another! That each and every baptized person is established as a holy site, a place of encounter with the divine. And all of this is true. You and I are living, breathing temples of the Holy Spirit; living, breathing tabernacles of the Body and Blood of Christ, sent out into the world to bear witness to the Father's freely given mercy to sinners. To be perfect as the Father is perfect is to be Christ for others in the world.

So, what does this look like in practice? Again, Paul has part of the answer. He writes, “If any one among you considers himself wise in this age, let him become a fool, so as to become wise.” The wisdom of the world is foolishness to God. God's wisdom comes with being set apart from the world. Not necessarily in a cave or a monastery or mountain cabin. Our set-apartness must exist in the world. Jesus challenges us to go beyond the Law to the foundations of the Law and take a radical step into sacrificial love. You love those who love you. So what? Even the pagans do that! Instead, love your enemies. You pray for your family members and friends. So what? Even the pagans do that! Instead, pray for those who persecute you. To be set apart from the world we cannot allow the world to rule our hearts and minds. How the pagans choose to think, feel, and act is their business and none of ours. They may hate their brothers and sisters. Seek revenge. Cherish grudges. Refuse help to the poor and sick. Worship whatever gods make them feel good. Christ fulfills the Law by revealing its soul, and its soul of the Law is love. We begin in holiness by setting ourselves apart in Christ, by consecrating ourselves in his sacrifice. We cannot achieve the holiness God wants for us by imitating the fads and fashions of our pagan neighbors.
 
As we rapidly approach Lent, it seems fitting to repeat Paul's warning to the corrupt church in Corinth: “Let no one deceive himself. If any one among you considers himself wise in this age, let him become a fool, so as to become wise. For the wisdom of this world is foolishness in the eyes of God. . .” Take that warning with this assurance: “Do you not know that you are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwells in you?” Christ fulfilled the Law by revealing the soul of the Law: divine love. He shows us the power of sacrificial love from the Cross, defeating sin and death by rising from the tomb, and bringing us all to the way of perfection. You are a living temple of the living God and your run toward holiness begins by following Christ. Not the dominant culture. Not your pagan neighbors. Not a political party. But Christ. Follow Christ. And become a living, breathing temple of the Holy Spirit, a fool in the eyes of the world.


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09 February 2020

Stay Salty!

Audio File

5th Sunday OT
Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP
OLR, NOLA

Who can restore your love for Christ if you lose it? If salt can lose its power to season, what is there to season the salt? What brings flavorless salt back to life? What Jesus is asking here is this: who can bring faith back to a disciple if he/she loses it? Each of the original disciples was personally chosen by Christ. He's taught them his secrets. He gave them the means to interpret his parables. He made Peter his steward, giving him the keys to the kingdom. The disciples have lived with Jesus; eaten with him; fled the crowds with him; nearly drowned with him. They've seen every healing miracle, every wonder he's performed. They met with him privately many times and questioned him many more. If there are any saltier in the faith than these men, we don't know who they are! If they lose faith, if they succumb to despair or anxiety, or fall prey to false teaching, who will bring them back to the Way? Jesus is urging his disciples (and us) to remain pure in their faith, to remain zealous in their preaching and to preserve the truth of his teachings. They cannot fail b/c there is no one who can restore the purity of their love for Christ. 
 
[Omitted in the audio] In the ancient world, salt represented purity. Writing to the Corinthians, Paul insists on the purity of his preaching. He reminds the Church in Corinth that he came to them to preach Christ and him crucified. He came to them with the power of the Spirit and not with “the sublimity of words or of wisdom.” He preached out of what later saints would come to call “holy ignorance,” that is, a total reliance on the Spirit of God to provide the wisdom necessary to preach His truth. As a source of wisdom, Paul knowingly sets aside his training as a philosopher; his experience as a public speaker; and his extensive knowledge of the Law. He uses all of these to convey God's wisdom but none are the source of this wisdom. None reveal the mystery of God. None help him to receive all that God has to show him. God alone reveals His mystery. To the world, Paul is ignorant. For the Church, for us, he is salt and light. His preaching purifies, preserves, and enlightens the mystery we all participate in right now and hope to live with forever. Lest anyone misunderstand, Paul is not advocating an anti-intellectual faith, a sort of “blind faith” that shies away from education or the use of human reason. When Paul writes that he preaches “Christ and him crucified,” he means that he's grounding his testimony in the historical death and resurrection of the man Jesus. He is not arguing his way to belief with logic and rhetoric. He is not emoting his way to faith. He is not experimenting his way to God in a lab. The wisdom Paul preaches is God Himself revealed in Christ crucified.

When Jesus tells his disciples that they are the salt of the earth and the light of the world, he is reminding them that they have witnessed God's Self-revelation in his own life and works. After the coming of the Spirit at Pentecost, they will remember – even as we do today – that when they saw and heard and followed Christ, they saw and heard and followed God Himself. They remember – even as we do today – because the Spirit of God comes upon them, surpassing all human understanding, and overwhelms them with His recreating love. Like salt sown to purify and light shone to pierce the darkness, they go out preaching, offering testimony, healing the sick, freeing the captive, and feeding the hungry – even as we do today. Jesus says to his disciples and to us, “. . .your light must shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your heavenly Father.” Our good deeds, done in imitation of Christ, are done so that others might come to glorify the Father. We help others pay their light bills in order to glorify God. We donate food, clothing, and toys in order to glorify God. We build and repair homes in order to glorify God. And when we do these things, God's light shines through us and we remain, as Christ commands, salty.

HOW we are tempted to dilute our flavor and dim our lights may have changed in two millennia, but WHAT tempts us is no different. The Corinthians suffered from what Paul calls “itchy ears.” They wanted to hear what they wanted to hear. They wanted complex theologies and elaborate philosophies. They wanted logical arguments and scientific proofs. They wanted eloquence and what passed for wisdom among the pagans. Don't we, in our own way, want these too? How much do we rely on the world's wisdom for our moral choices? Do we accept as normal our culture's worship of the Self? The use of violence to solve our problems? How much do we depend on technology to maintain our personal relationships? Do we allow caffeine, nicotine, amphetamine, alcohol to rule our moods? My point here is not to scold or blame but rather to show that we are as tempted now as the ancient Corinthians were to set aside the most fundamental truth God has given us: His love in Christ Jesus. We are tempted in ways that the Corinthians could never imagine: TV, internet, cell phones, credit cards, self-help psychobabble. But the temptation itself remains unchanged: replace God as the center of your life with something or someone else, anything or anyone else. Make a created thing your god. If and when this happens, you lose your saltiness; your light dims. . .and your love of Christ fades. 

In weakness, with fear and much trembling, go out into the world, wherever you find yourself and preach – in word, deed, thought – preach Christ and him crucified. Shine the light Christ has given you. And give all glory to God the Father! The brighter you shine for others, the more of His mystery you will illuminate and the more you will truly see.



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