A Catholic's Companion

Nov. 1: Feast of All Saints

2004-11-01T13:14:00.000-05:00

Lectionary Readings
Reading I: Revelation 7:2-4, 9-14:
Responsorial Psalm: Psalm 24:1-6
Reading II: 1 John 3:1-3
Gospel: Matthew 5:1-12

Homily
Growing up, as I did, under the Ursuline Sisters at St. Vincent de Paul and the Blue Book of Saints, it almost seemed as if the saints were super-people, super-human. That’s pretty hard to emulate!

In our Catholic tradition, a tradition going back to the first century, the Saints of the Church are people who really lived the life of the Spirit, however, they were NOT super-human.

Thomas was a doubting wishy-washy.

Peter lied under oath. (“I swear, I do not know the man.”)

Mary Magdalen prostituted.

Jerome raged. (And stormed around when things didn’t go his way.)

Augustine lusted. (“Give me purity, Lord, but not yet.”)

Matthew cheated. (He was a tax collector.)

Paul dominated. (He couldn’t get along with Peter, the Apostles, or Barnabas.)

How did they do it?

They are “Saints,” Holy Ones, because they used their good gifts, their talents, so well that these overshadowed their faults. They became “whole” people, fully human.

One does not start off being a Saint. It is like growing up. We do it little at a time. And we can’t skip any of its stages. We can’t grow in one day from 13 to 16 and get our driver’s license. We can’t skip from 55 to 62 or 65 with a snap of the finger and get our social security. We must take it one day at a time. So with holiness. We overcome the faulty streaks in our personality, our very selves, by accentuating the positive, by stressing our gifts, our talents, in our relationship with our God and with one another.

Over the years as I’ve mingled among many people of various parishes I’ve met a lot of great “saints.” They are “whole” people. They’ve got it all together. These folks let their good nature, their good will, freely flow and it spills out all over the place. You have met these kinds of people.

And so on this Feast of All Saints, we thank God for all the goodness we have in our world:

Blessed and Holy are those who turned the time of trial into a moment of grace.

Holy are those who choose peace in a violent situation.

Blessed are those who live in simplicity amid overflowing stuff.

Thanks and praise to those who live gently in an often angry and competitive environment.

How wonderful are those who show mercy and kindness in an uncaring time.

Holy and Blessed are those who choose purity in a depraved age.

Thanks and praise to those who act in justice with the weak and the powerless, the downtrodden and homeless, the old and the young.

Holy are those who choose less in an abundant and consumer society.

O Gracious God and Father, we gather this day to thank and praise you and those who choose your way. These are the Holy Ones, the Saints of the ages. Fill us with your Spirit. Help us to choose the better way and be numbered among your Saints, among those who dine at the Feast in your Kingdom.

--Fr. Pat

Excerpt from "A Catholic's Companion: Liturgical Cycle C" (c)2000 C. Patrick Creed
Published by Watchmaker Press. Maggie Hettinger, editor

31st Sunday in Ordinary Time--Liturgical Cycle C

2004-10-31T13:02:00.001-05:00

Lectionary Readings
Reading I: Wisdom 11:22-12:2
Responsorial Psalm: Psalm 145:1-2, 8-11, 13-14
Reading II: 2 Thessalonians 1:11-2:2
Gospel: Luke 19:1-10

Homily
Jesus and the disciples approached the neighborhood of Jericho, a vacation/resort city of Palm trees, rose gardens, balsam-scented groves…a place for the important, the wealthy, the government people, merchants’ fine estates. Jesus and the little company of disciples walking with him are only one day’s travel from Jerusalem, and so the grand journey is about to end.

Taking the twelve aside, Jesus said to them, “We must now go up to Jerusalem so that all that was written by the prophets concerning the Son of Man may be accomplished.”

We are coming to the end now of our reading of Luke. The author sums up the teaching of Jesus by presenting two parallel events: the cure of a blind man and the Zacchaeus story.

As Jesus comes into the city of Jericho a blind man calls out: “Jesus, son of David, have mercy on me.” The crowd tries to shut him up.

Jesus asks: “What do you want of me?”

“Lord, I want to see!”

That, of course, is our plea, too. We have experienced the Good News as told by Luke and we want to see.

A bit further into the town Jesus meets Zacchaeus (a small man, we are told by Luke, perhaps to indicate his reputation). He is rich (he can afford a grand banquet), but rich by devious means according to his neighbors—his wealth not earned by skillful merchandising, or heredity, or position. He is pushed aside like the blind man, but he like the blind, attracts Jesus’ attention.

The story is a concrete application of the parables of Chapter 15: The Lost Sheep, The Lost Coin, and The Lost Son. Luke lets us know this by recording the ending of the story: “The son of man has come to search out and save what was lost.” The table fellowship which follows those parables now follows in a grand banquet at the home of the tax collector.

Jesus says, “Today (each day), I mean to stay at your house.”

This evokes “Give us today our daily bread,” and as we recall the meaning of the word Jesus (the Lord saves God’s people), Jesus (“salvation”) has come to this house.

It is an algebraic equation: Your hospitality equals salvation.

Previously, we spoke of faith as that intimate prayer of contemplation where one leaves oneself wide open to God and therefore to others. Such is hospitality—being open to all in need of comfort and healing, in need of hospitality. It is this openness, this vulnerability which lets God fill us with life. Being open is a whole new way of existing, a new attitude, which is the message of the Good News.

Jerusalem was not hospitable to Jesus. The Sanctus welcome was false. These people were not open in eyes or heart.

As we draw near to the end of Luke, his summary is a simple message: Open your eyes, open your hearts, giving in Eucharist table fellowship; life broken and poured out like bread and wine.

“Today, I mean to stay (abide) in your house.

“Today, Salvation has come to this house.”
--Fr. Pat

Excerpt from "A Catholic's Companion: Liturgical Cycle C" (c)2000 C. Patrick Creed
Published by Watchmaker Press. Maggie Hettinger, editor

31st Sunday in Ordinary Time--Liturgical Cycle C

2004-10-31T13:02:00.000-05:00

Lectionary Readings
Reading I: Wisdom 11:22-12:2
Responsorial Psalm: Psalm 145:1-2, 8-11, 13-14
Reading II: 2 Thessalonians 1:11-2:2
Gospel: Luke 19:1-10

Homily
Jesus and the disciples approached the neighborhood of Jericho, a vacation/resort city of Palm trees, rose gardens, balsam-scented groves…a place for the important, the wealthy, the government people, merchants’ fine estates. Jesus and the little company of disciples walking with him are only one day’s travel from Jerusalem, and so the grand journey is about to end.

Taking the twelve aside, Jesus said to them, “We must now go up to Jerusalem so that all that was written by the prophets concerning the Son of Man may be accomplished.”

We are coming to the end now of our reading of Luke. The author sums up the teaching of Jesus by presenting two parallel events: the cure of a blind man and the Zacchaeus story.

As Jesus comes into the city of Jericho a blind man calls out: “Jesus, son of David, have mercy on me.” The crowd tries to shut him up.

Jesus asks: “What do you want of me?”

“Lord, I want to see!”

That, of course, is our plea, too. We have experienced the Good News as told by Luke and we want to see.

A bit further into the town Jesus meets Zacchaeus (a small man, we are told by Luke, perhaps to indicate his reputation). He is rich (he can afford a grand banquet), but rich by devious means according to his neighbors—his wealth not earned by skillful merchandising, or heredity, or position. He is pushed aside like the blind man, but he like the blind, attracts Jesus’ attention.

The story is a concrete application of the parables of Chapter 15: The Lost Sheep, The Lost Coin, and The Lost Son. Luke lets us know this by recording the ending of the story: “The son of man has come to search out and save what was lost.” The table fellowship which follows those parables now follows in a grand banquet at the home of the tax collector.

Jesus says, “Today (each day), I mean to stay at your house.”

This evokes “Give us today our daily bread,” and as we recall the meaning of the word Jesus (the Lord saves God’s people), Jesus (“salvation”) has come to this house.

It is an algebraic equation:

Your hospitality equals salvation.

Previously, we spoke of faith as that intimate prayer of contemplation where one leaves oneself wide open to God and therefore to others. Such is hospitality—being open to all in need of comfort and healing, in need of hospitality. It is this openness, this vulnerability which lets God fill us with life. Being open is a whole new way of existing, a new attitude, which is the message of the Good News.

Jerusalem was not hospitable to Jesus. The Sanctus welcome was false. These people were not open in eyes or heart.

As we draw near to the end of Luke, his summary is a simple message: Open your eyes, open your hearts, giving in Eucharist table fellowship; life broken and poured out like bread and wine.

“Today, I mean to stay (abide) in your house.

“Today, Salvation has come to this house.”
--Fr. Pat

Excerpt from "A Catholic's Companion: Liturgical Cycle C" (c)2000 C. Patrick Creed
Published by Watchmaker Press. Maggie Hettinger, editor

30th Sunday in Ordinary Time--Liturgical Cycle C

2004-10-24T11:58:00.000-04:00

Lectionary Readings
Reading I: Sirach 35:12-14, 16-18
Responsorial Psalm: Psalm 34:2-3, 7,17-19, 23
Reading II: 2 Timothy 4:6-8, 16-18
Gospel: Luke 18:9-14

Homily
For all four October Sundays our bible readings at Mass Liturgy present a meditation on the nature of faith. One might say it is an “Octoberfest of Faith.” Our first season of Renew 2000 calls us to deepen this faith, this relationship with our God in Christ.

On the First Sunday, we saw in the prayer of the disciples, “Lord, increase our faith,” that this virtue is a living part of us. Faith is not some static quality or thing, like carrying around a purse or a billfold. Faith is a living relationship with God. It is more like the muscles in our arms and legs. It can lay unused and become weak or it can grow and develop. Like any relationship, our relationship with our God can be deepened, increased, renewed.

The next October Sunday, in the story of the leper who returned to offer thanks and praise, we are told by Jesus that thanking and praising was itself an “act of faith.” “Go,” Jesus said, “your FAITH has saved you.” We come to understand that” acts of Faith” (prayers and praise, communion and conversation) deepen our relationship with God so that we may be numbered among those who are saved, invited to dine in the feast of the Kingdom.

This past Sunday, Jesus tells the story of the corrupt judge who gave in to the woman who kept pestering him to do her justice. Jesus tells us that God will pay attention to one who beseeches him day and night. To be a faith filled person is to be persistent in our relationship with God. One doesn’t go off to get a divorce at the slightest inconvenience or disappointment. Faith is a relationship which persists in the dark night as well as in the light of day.

Today, on this fourth Sunday of our “Octoberfest,” our faith relationship is seen as very close and intimate. God in Christ is ever present to us and we to him.

The Prayer of the Pharisee talks to God about things. It is obviously not a conversation between lovers. The Pharisee gives a grocery list of his accomplishments. Faith prayer, however, is about God and our response to him, about his presence to us in the core of our being. Like a mantra we whisper over and over, “Lord, be merciful to me, a sinner.”

The faith of the publican is that simple prayer whereby we come into contact with our deepest selves in Christ—God in the core of our being. The real faith prayer, we are told by contemplatives, is the prayer of Christ in our innermost selves. In this intimacy, words are hardly spoken. In Christ, our Savior and Redeemer, we are in the presence of the Divine Being.

“Poured out like a libation,” we call God “Abba, Father!"

Your will be done.
Your Kingdom come.
Give us today our Bread for life.
Forgive us as we forgive those who do us wrong.
Deliver us from the trial."

During this “Octoberfest of Faith” we are called to see that Faith is our conversation with our God from the heart –in the core of our being. THAT is the virtue of faith! We become more and more conscious of the divine presence. The Christ of God, our Savior and Redeemer, speaks to us and we hear his voice; in faith, in this intimate relationship, we whisper to him and he hears our heart.
--Fr. Pat

Excerpt from "A Catholic's Companion: Liturgical Cycle C" (c)2000 C. Patrick Creed
Published by Watchmaker Press. Maggie Hettinger, editor

29th Sunday in Ordinary Time--Liturgical Cycle C

2004-10-19T11:48:00.000-04:00

Lectionary Readings
Reading I: Exodus 17:8-13
Responsorial Psalm: Psalm 121: 1-8
Reading II: 2 Timothy 3:14-4:2
Gospel: Luke 18:1-8

Homily
This is the first weekend I have been with you this month. Let me fill you in. The four Sundays of October all stress some aspect of the virtue of faith. The word faith can be used in many ways. It is like some of our English words, e.g. play, which can mean a “play on Broadway”; or we may say – I like to “play” sports or I “play” the piano – or “play” the stereo! Faith can be a set of articles we believe, like “An Act of Faith,” or we can use the word to mean that we have faith in our car starting on a cold morning. The four Sundays of October speak to us about “faith” as a relationship with our God. I call it an “Octoberfest” of Faith.

On the first Sunday we heard the disciples pray, “Lord, increase our faith.” and we examined how our relationship with God can be increased, deepened, made stronger as well as lessened, weakened, destroyed. Like muscles in our arms and legs, our relationship must be exercised and fostered in order to grow and develop.

Last Sunday the Leper who returned, falling on his face, gave thanks and praise and Jesus interpreted those gestures as acts of faith. “Your faith,” he said, “has been your salvation.” We saw that our gestures, especially at Eucharist, are the language of our relationship with the Triune God.

Today three figures are presented: Moses, Timothy, and the Widow—each are seen in a faith relationship of persistence. A couple of Sundays ago we read from Paul’s letter to Timothy (2 Tim 1:5): “The Spirit God has given us is no cowardly spirit, but rather one that is strong, loving, and wise.” God does not give up on us and in a strong, loving, and wise relationship, people of faith do not give up on God.

This first season of our Renew 2000 invites us to take a close look at our relationship with our God, which is the same thing as saying, take a close look at our faith. The first week we zeroed in on our communion with the Triune God (Father, Son and Spirit) and last week on our relationship with God as Creator and Father of us all. This week we concentrate on our interchange with God the Son, second person of the Trinity-the Word of God made flesh who dwelt among us!

A couple of years ago, before my retirement, I made a habit of visiting the classrooms (all 18 of them) most days in the morning after mass. I would just pop in—nothing formal—and we’d briefly talk about what was on their minds. My favorite was the second grade (when they were in the first grade I had called them “worst graders” and they had retaliated by calling me “grandpa.”) One day we were talking about the “sign of the cross,” (Father, Son and Spirit) and one tike shot up her hand. She said, “Grandpa, which one is your favorite?”

Kids have favorites, you know. Like favorite clothes, TV programs, ice cream flavor, pizza, etc. So which person of the Blessed Trinity is your favorite? Logical question!

And we DO have favorites, you see. We talk to, we thank and praise, God, Father and Creator, when we are overcome with awe at some wonderful works of the Creator and Father, like a sunset or a delicately formed flower.

We stand humble before the Son of God when that powerful Word sinks deep into our hearts.

We Spirit dance with joy at the spark of life in a newborn child.

Suppose we see today the persistence of Moses with his tiring arms outstretched as a figure of that very Word of God, our Redeemer and friend; that all-powerful Word, like a two-edged sword cutting out the cancer of our weakness, our selfishness, our foolishness, so that we stand before our life with courage as one who is strong, loving and wise!

In this view, then, it is not Timothy, it is the inspired Word of God that reproves and corrects and trains in holiness. Timothy is but the figure of that strong, loving and wise Word made flesh, Jesus the Lord, which stays with the task whether convenient or inconvenient—correcting, reproving, appealing—constantly teaching and never losing patience.

Suppose we understand the poor widow as that strong, loving and wise Word of God: that all-powerful Word which persists until the wronged receive justice. Could we be the weak, the unloving, the foolish judges so hounded by that Word, that Christ of God, so tenaciously hounded by that Word that we finally give in, finally surrender ourselves wholly into our God?

We recall Francis Thompson’s Hound of Heaven,

I fled Him, down the nights and down the days;
I fled Him, down the arches of the years;
I fled Him, down the labyrinthine ways
Of my own mind; and in the mist of tears
I hid from Him...
From those strong Feet that followed, followed after.
But with unhurrying chase,
And unperturbèd pace,
Deliberate speed, majestic instancy,
They beat -- and a Voice beat
More instant than the Feet
"All things betray thee, who betrayest Me."

We can see in Moses, Timothy, and the Widow powerful expressions of their faith relationship with their God, that majestic Word made flesh, the Son of God, the Hound of Heaven. We are called by our Renew meditation this week to a deeper relationship with the person of Jesus into a faith courage which is strong, loving and wise as we stand daily before the immorality and injustices of the world in which we live and move and have our being.
--Fr. Pat

Excerpt from "A Catholic's Companion: Liturgical Cycle C" (c)2000 C. Patrick Creed
Published by Watchmaker Press. Maggie Hettinger, editor

28th Sunday in Ordinary Time--Liturgical Cycle C

2004-10-10T11:39:00.000-04:00

Lectionary Readings
Reading I: 2 Kings 5:14-17
Responsorial Psalm: Psalm 98:1-4
Reading II: 2 Timothy 2:8-13
Gospel: Luke 17:11-19

Homily
In the Lukan Gospel cycle the four Sundays in October can be described in their liturgical setting as an Octoberfest of Faith. Each Sunday’s scriptures focus in on this virtue. Last Sunday we saw, in the disciples’ cry, “Lord, increase our faith,” that it is more than a set of “creedal” statements to which we give assent, but that it is also a disposition of soul, a relationship with God which can be increased, deepened, fostered. Faith is that loving relationship with another whereby we can know that we trust, rely on, depend on one another. Faith is a loving relationship with God whereby we know we can place ourselves in his caring hands. “Lord,” we pray, “increase our faith;” let us grow in our relationship with you, O God.

In today’s Octoberfest of Faith, the scriptures speak to us of how this faith relationship can be increased and deepened. This week our Renew 2000 calls us to a lively relationship with God, the Creator, God; upon whom everything that “is” depends on God for its is-ness, the very existence of the universe rests on God, the Father and creator of all.

The beautiful story of Elisha and Naaman helps us experience the depth of their relationship with God. After the foreigner is healed, the prophet would not accept Naaman’s “thank-you” offering. The Jewish prophet knew the healing was the Creator’s doing. “Give praise to him.” So Naaman took a load of earth from Israel back home so he could give thanks and praise on holy ground.

The cured Samaritan came back to Jesus praising and thanking him. Jesus accepted the “Thanks,” pointing out that this very act of praising and thanking was itself an act of faith, a relationship with God, our Father and Creator. “Go,” Jesus said, “your faith (your thanks and your praising) has been your salvation.”

Have you ever slowed down enough to notice the kinds of things we do to show our appreciation and thanks and praise, our basic respect and love, for one another? I am thinking of my Dad who never failed at the end of the workweek to bring home some little gifts for my mom, and to my brother and me when we were in grade school. For mom it was usually one cut flower; for us it was something from his office—a paper clip, a scratch pad, a pencil, a rubber band—whatever.

Our Sunday liturgy is crammed full of these simple gestures and signs of faith—of our relationship with the Creator God, Our Father in Heaven. The Vatican Council in fact said of these gestures, “Good Liturgy (good signs, good gestures) increases faith; bad Liturgy weakens our faith (relationship).” The recalling of our baptism as we sign ourselves with Holy Water on entering the assembly, the way we reverence the Eucharistic presence, our standing at attention, kneeling in adoration, and sitting for attentive listening, the honest attempt at song, the bringing up our tithes in forms of bread and wine, the greeting and hospitality of the “peace” rite, the communion procession to the altar table, the reflective silence, the way we dress. These are all gestures and signs that, when placed with reverent thanks and praise, are expressions of faith and those very human acts increase that faith, that loving relationship with our God.

And all of creation is made up of God’s signs, God’s gestures, to us—signs of the Father and Creator’s loving call to a relationship with each of us. And our human gestures, like those of Naaman and the Samaritan, increase and deepen our faith, our relationship with our God and with one another.
--Fr. Pat

Excerpt from "A Catholic's Companion: Liturgical Cycle C" (c)2000 C. Patrick Creed
Published by Watchmaker Press. Maggie Hettinger, editor

27th Sunday in Ordinary Time--Liturgical Cycle C

2004-10-03T11:27:00.000-04:00

Lectionary Readings
Reading I: Habakkuk 1:2-3; 2:2-4
Responsorial Psalm: Psalm 95:1-2, 6-7, 8-9 (8)
Reading II: 2 Timothy 1:6-8, 13-14
Gospel: Luke 17:5-10

Homily
Today is the first Sunday of our parish Renew 2000 and the first week of our small group prayer meetings. As a community of God’s people, all of us in this first phase of six weeks are called to a meditation on our relationship to God, to one another and to all creation.

Our Liturgies for the four Sundays of October focus on the virtue of faith, which is another way of saying “on our relationship with God and all creation.” In fact, I like to call it an “Octoberfest” of Faith. Each Sunday we will be presented with various aspects of our Faith, of our relationship with God, with one another, and all things.

“Good (just) people,” the prophet Habakkuk writes today, “are vital people because of their faith,” are alive with zest because of their relationship with their God and His creation. And Paul states, “Guard the rich deposit of Faith,” that rich gift which has been passed on to us, which makes a person “strong, loving and wise.” And in the Gospel the prayer of the apostles rings in our hearts, “Lord, increase our Faith,” increase our getting along with God, with one another, and with all of God’s wondrous works.

Sometimes we get the word “faith” mixed up with what rather than who we believe in. We tend to think that the virtue of faith is all those things we recite, like in the Act of Faith or the Apostle’s Creed or Mass on Sundays and the like. But the virtue of Faith is a relationship with our God, how God fits into our lives—or rather how we fit into God’s life.

The faith of the scriptures is an affair of the heart before it can ever become a matter of the intellect. A person can get “A’s” in all their religion classes and never really come to commune with God as Creator or Jesus as one’s Lord and Savior or the Spirit as Life.

We come to really know someone by living with them, as in a family. Knowing about someone is not the same thing as knowing the person. It is through the family of the Church that we come to experience God and to be in a relationship with him. And this is what we mean by the virtue of Faith, our relationship with God and one another.

In the second reading today, Paul reminds Timothy that this faith experience began in his life when he, Paul, acting in the Spirit, ordained him by the laying on of hands. Paul touched him. Timothy was touched, was influenced, thus teaching us that Faith is not only a faith in the person of Jesus but that very faith, that very relationship, is to be passed on through a faithfilled people. We are called to touch one another with the Spirit of God, the Spirit of Jesus.

As we stand on the threshold of a gigantic religious revival, a renewal effort beginning today, to which all of our nearly 200,000 Catholic people in this central part of Kentucky are called to participate.

Like the apostles who prayed “Lord, increase our faith,” we pray for an increase, a deepening, of our relationship with our God by increasing, by deepening our communion with one another. Let your hand touch our hearts, O God, that we might fulfill our role of “giver of the Spirit” as well as “receiver of the Spirit.”

Through our “faith sharing,” the sharing of our relationship with God and one another, we will be the instrument for others coming to deepen their faith, deepen their relationship with the divine persons, and they in turn shall lay their hands, shall touch, us so that the spirit will mold and form us all into a people who are “strong, loving and wise.
--Fr. Pat

Excerpt from "A Catholic's Companion: Liturgical Cycle C" (c)2000 C. Patrick Creed
Published by Watchmaker Press. Maggie Hettinger, editor

26th Sunday in Ordinary Time--Liturgical Cycle C

2004-09-26T11:00:00.000-04:00

Lectionary Readings
Reading I: Amos 6:1a,4-7
Responsorial Psalm: Psalm 146:7,8-9,9-10
Reading II: 1 Timothy 6:11-16
Gospel: Luke 16:19-31

Homily
As we pointed out last week, Chapter 16 of Luke’s gospel gives us a rather good look at Jesus’ teachings regarding wealth and poverty. The story in the second half of that chapter, of Lazarus and the rich man, helps us to understand the message of last Sunday, the steward who reduced his own commission so that he would have trade when he was dismissed from his present job—he was enterprising! So the punch line:

Make friends now by the use of this world’s goods so that when they fail you, you will have a lasting reception.

Many preachers have waxed eloquently about this story of Lazarus and Dives (I don’t know where that name comes from). The narrative tells us nothing about Lazarus, about his patience, his kindness, his whatever. What the story does tell us, and only that, is that their positions were exactly opposite. Lazarus was wealthy in death and the rich man was in torment. That is point one.

The second thing that is told to us in this story is that the teachings of Moses and the prophets concerning wealth have not been changed, but that even if someone would rise from the dead to proclaim that teaching, there will be those who still do not understand, or believe.

The teaching of the Pharisees, in the time of Jesus as well as that of Luke, was that riches and wealth was a sign of God’s favor. Why should it be shared with those who were in want when that very want was a sign of God’s displeasure with such people?

Today, we are even more insensitive than that! We often don’t even give God any credit at all for the wealth of His creation that is ours. We glibly go about our business as though we have a perfect right to not only use the grand creation around us but to abuse it as well. Air, energy, life, earth, water—all are being abused right and left. None of us are able to completely excuse ourselves in these matters.

What is the teaching of Jesus (of Moses and the prophets) and the church today about wealth and about poverty? It is simply this: that neither riches nor want is good or bad, graced or evil. It is how we use these things. Or how we abuse them. This is what counts. To be poor is not a blessing or a curse. It is how we conduct ourselves in that state.
Riches and wealth are neither a blessing nor an evil. It is how we conduct ourselves in that state of well-being.

What kind of stewards are we? Is our understanding of this world’s goods such that we share what we have in excess and even, when need be, that we share from our need?

Remember in Chapter 12 when we hear the teaching of Jesus: Avoid greed in all its forms, a man may be wealthy, but his possessions do not guarantee him life.

Remember the rich man who had a grand harvest. He built bigger barns to store his grain. Now he was going to sit back and relax for years to come. Then we heard the awesome words: “You fool. This very night your life will be required of you.” Then to whom will all this piled up wealth of yours go?

Will we listen and hear? Can we be detached from those things over which we are given stewardship so that we can use such blessings for the good of neighbors in need?

Will we hear if someone rises from the dead?

Make friends for yourselves by your use of this world’s goods so that when they fail you a lasting reception will be yours.

--Fr. Pat

Excerpt from "A Catholic's Companion: Liturgical Cycle C" (c)2000 C. Patrick Creed
Published by Watchmaker Press. Maggie Hettinger, editor

25th Sunday in Ordinary Time--Liturgical Cycle C

2004-09-19T09:19:00.000-04:00

Lectionary Readings
Reading I: Amos 8:4-7
Responsorial Psalm: Psalm 113:1-2, 4-6,7-8
Reading II: 1 Timothy 2:1-8
Gospel: Luke 16:1-13

Homily

Luke continues to take us, from Chapter 9 in his gospel, on the road with Jesus as he proceeds “resolutely” on his way to Jerusalem. As such, the image mirrors our own journey to the Kingdom of God.

What is the cost of being a follower of Jesus, a disciple of the Christian Way?

And more importantly, how can I be numbered among those who are of the Kingdom?

How can I assure that I will be invited to dine at the grand feast in the Kingdom of God?

These are the questions which have haunted us Sunday after Sunday for the past several months.

The values and lifestyles which we must aspire to and try to live by are being laid out for us little by little these past Sundays. They are markedly different from the values which pure secular men and women embrace. Our news media of late has shown the utter bankruptcy of such lack of values and we abhor the hypocrisy of both the accusers and the accused. Many Christians, those raised in the Way of Jesus, are almost in the state of shock at the total lack of any standards at all other than what is useful and expedient for each one’s own advantage. In comparison, we, as disciples of Jesus, are called to a Way of Life that is wonderfully refreshing, to the values of the Kingdom of God.

What values must I strive for to be invited to dine with the Christ of God?

Luke has presented the teachings of Jesus (on the road) in answer to this question. This is one of the relationships—how the Christian must relate to others (recall the discourse on humility or the parable of the Prodigal Son, or the story of the Good Samaritan neighbor). And Jesus’ values on how the Christian must relate to the things of this world, to our possessions…(remember the discourse on the Narrow Door, or the parable of the farmer who stored his abundant crop, setting himself to relax for years, to come only to be called to eternity that very night).

Today’s Lukan gospel continues this “relationship” teaching with regard to things—money and possessions. How must we relate, how do we use the resources of our world so that we will be numbered among those who are to dine in the heavenly Kingdom? This is the value articulated in our parable today.

You see, “things” in themselves are neither good or bad. It is the “use” of them that makes the difference. The Christian value is to use them in such a way that when they fail us (not “if” they fail us) we will have a lasting place in heaven.

The parable today points out how we tend to be more enterprising in our use of material things to gain a monetary (secular) profit than we are to gain an eternal profit (or advantage).

The story is often misunderstood. The deviousness of the steward is not what is lauded by Jesus, but his industry. In the culture of the day, a steward made his living by the mark-up on the goods which he sold—not unlike our modern middle men. So the steward in the parable discounted his own mark-up, taking less of a profit for himself in his design to win new employers.

Jesus is saying, would that his own followers were as enterprising—the willingness to take less now so that we might win the crown of eternal life, to dine at the feast of the Kingdom.

In answer to the question, “How can I be numbered among those who are saved?” we are called in this gospel teaching today to an enterprising relationship with this world’s goods so that when (not “if”) they fail us, we will have made friends for eternal life.

--Fr. Pat

Excerpt from "A Catholic's Companion: Liturgical Cycle C" (c)2000 C. Patrick Creed
Published by Watchmaker Press. Maggie Hettinger, editor

TwentyFourth Sunday in Ordinary Time--Liturgical Cycle C

2004-09-13T10:43:00.000-04:00

Lectionary Readings
Reading I Exodus 32:7-11, 13-14
Responsorial Psalm Psalm 51:3-4, 12-13, 17,19
Reading II 1 Timothy 1:12-17
Gospel Luke 15:1-32

Homily
At the end of the first century there was a pastoral problem facing the infant church communities. It is not unlike a pastoral problem, a problem of conscience, facing our churches and our extended families today.

How were they, these early converts to the values of Jesus, to treat their fallen comrades who had so happily embraced the “Christ Way” of life and who then deserted it, thumbing their noses at those who remained faithful? Some committed public sin, public acts of immorality; or had sacrificed to idols to gain a political or economic edge; or who had reported their fellow church members to the authorities, sometimes resulting in their martyrdom. These were serious breaches of loyalty. How were these traitors to be treated? Especially how were they to be treated when they confessed their crimes and asked to be readmitted to the Christian community?

Every church community and every family has its skeletons in closets. There are wandering sheep in each community. There is the errant son or daughter, mother or father, brother or sister, niece or nephew who have broken long-standing traditions, long-standing codes of conduct, accustomed values and morals. They have thumbed their noses at the church or at the family. Sometimes, the offenders are cut off, excommunicated, never to be spoken of again—worse than dead. It is not easy to forgive those kinds of hurts, insults, or traitors, especially within one’s own family.

We read in the Gospel today: The self-righteous were gathered around Jesus. And he told these three parables about the lost who are found. In that first century church there wasn’t any doubt about how these errant ones were to be welcomed back. Is there any doubt as to what we must do in the face of similar wrongs?

--Fr. Pat

Excerpt from "A Catholic's Companion: Liturgical Cycle C" (c)2000 C. Patrick Creed

Published by Watchmaker Press. Maggie Hettinger, editor

TwentyThird Sunday in Ordinary Time--Liturgical Cycle C

2004-09-05T10:27:00.000-04:00

Lectionary Readings

Reading I Wisdom 9:13-18b
Responsorial Psalm Psalm 90:3-4, 5-6, 12-13, 14-17
Reading II Philemon 9-10, 12-17
Gospel Luke 14:25-33

Homily
Last Sunday we were presented with the image of a grand banquet as a concrete example of the values we must embrace. How can we be numbered among the guests invited to the “feast in the kingdom of God?” The point of the narrow door is illustrated: We are to seek the value inherent in rightly judging our own talents, treasures, and finances and to share those resources in such a way that the good we do does not come back to us. “When you give a banquet,” Jesus says, “Don’t invite the wealthy who can repay you.” Don’t put a hook on your generosity.

Years ago, when I was pastor of a poor rural parish in the foothills of the mountains, someone willed to the church 228 acres – with the stipulation that a seminary be built there! An impossible hook!

And today there is the shadow of the cross as a value of the Kingdom. It is as if Jesus is saying, “Be prepared to go the whole way.” “The lukewarm,” he said, “I will spew out of my mouth.”

As a very concrete example of what is expected of one who commits to the values of the Kingdom of God, the church presents today in the second reading the beautiful letter of Paul to Philemon. Let me tell you the story, but I want you to read the letter (takes about 3 minutes) yourself when you get home today. Use it as a before-brunch prayer. Read it out loud if you have a family. It’s a dandy.

Philemon was at least a middle-upperclass citizen of Colossae and was a convert to Christianity and baptized by Paul, who considered him as a spiritual son. The Church (the people) met at his home, which would have been of considerable size. He had purchased a slave whom he set in charge of his finances. It is estimated that a slave of that stature would have cost anywhere between $35,000 and $60,000 in today’s money. His name was Onesimus (Greek meaning “useful”) so we know he was a talented, skillful bookkeeper. Onesimus made off with enough of Philemon’s money to buy his freedom (in today’s money somewhere around $250,000). You can imagine that Philemon was as mad as a wet hen about that and set the wheels in motion to have him captured.

Onesimus escaped to distant Rome where he looked up Paul, who was under house arrest. He became a convert of Paul and was baptized by him, thus Paul now had two spiritual sons, making them (Philemon and Onesimus) brothers to each other.

Paul sends Onesimus back to Philemon and asks Philemon to receive him as he would receive Paul and as a brother. Paul writes, “I will repay you whatever he owes you, but remember, dear Philemon, you owe me your very life!” So actually Philemon is in debt to Paul! (“I want to make you ‘useful’ to me—Refresh this heart of mine—do more than I ask.”)

What a letter. Talk about a pound of flesh. What does Jesus mean when he says, “Any who do not take up their cross and follow me cannot be my disciple.”?

If we hold the values of the Kingdom dear to us, we must be ready to pay the price and take up whatever comes our way, doing what we know in our hearts is the “right thing to do.” That’s the cost of being a disciple of the Lord, called to bring about the Kingdom in the world we touch.

--Fr. Pat

Excerpt from "A Catholic's Companion: Liturgical Cycle C" (c)2000 C. Patrick Creed
Published by Watchmaker Press. Maggie Hettinger, editor

TwentySecond Sunday in Ordinary Time--Liturgical Cycle C

2004-08-29T09:09:00.002-04:00

Lectionary Readings

Reading I Sirach 3:17-18, 20, 28-29
Responsorial Psalm Psalm 68:4-5, 6-7, 10-11
Reading II Hebrews 12:18-19, 22-24a
Gospel Luke 14:1, 7-14

Homily
After Pentecost this year our church liturgy began presenting a Sunday series of readings from the Lukan Gospel. The author organizes his material about “all that Jesus said and did,” placing Jesus “resolutely” on a journey “toward Jerusalem.” Each Sunday, thereafter, we have been listening to Jesus teach about what it means to be his disciple. We are invited to become one of his followers in that little company walking with Jesus on the road. It becomes not a physical passage but, in symbol, our own spiritual journey toward our heavenly home.

Last Sunday, from Luke’s Chapter 13, we heard that “Jesus went through the cities and towns teaching – all the while making his way toward Jerusalem.”

Someone asked, “Lord, are there few in number who are to be saved?”

Jesus answered, “People will come from the East and the West, from the North and the South, to take their place at the feast in the Kingdom of God.” “Some who were last will be first and some who were first will be last.”

Today’s reading from Luke, Chapter 14, places this teaching in the concrete context of a grand banquet, evoking the image of the “feast in the Kingdom of God.” Two instructions for our reflection are given: one for the guests and one for the host. Both stress humility as a requirement for discipleship. While not directly answering the question, “Are there few in number who are to be saved,” Jesus speaks about how each of us can be numbered among those who are saved.

The guests are told to rightly evaluate their importance: “Those who exalt themselves shall be humbled and those who humble themselves shall be exalted.”

The one who gives the banquet is told, “Don’t consider yourself a host if you arrange things in such a way (by inviting, for example, only the wealthy) so that the invitation will come back to you."

“Humility” is to correctly ascertain one’s God-given talents and then to share those blessings with others—with the community (one’s family, friends, coworkers, those who care for us). And to do so in such a way that we do not manipulate them so that the good we do comes back to us!

“Are they few in number who are to be saved?” The question could just as easy have been, “Are there few in number who are invited to the banquet?”

Jesus reinterprets the question and answers the question which should have been asked, “How can I (we) be numbered among those invited to the grand banquet?” Jesus does not tell us the number but rather tells us how to be numbered among the “guests” who are invited to take their place at the feast in the Kingdom of God.

The teaching comes out of our ancient Judeo-Christian tradition, as we hear today in the Wisdom book of Sirach:

Humble yourselves the more, the greater you are,
and you will find favor with God.
What is too sublime or beyond your strength search not.
Conduct your affairs with humility.
You will be loved more than a giver of gifts.

To be a follower of Jesus (on the road to the heavenly Jerusalem) we must be a people who choose to live by Gospel values. Among which values is that of humility (which Jesus teaches in today’s gospel), of correctly assessing our talents and gifts and to let those gifts direct our commitment to the community, the church, the family and the social life we live. Thus even when we assess ourselves as least, we shall be numbered among the first at the table in the grand banquet of the Kingdom of God. For the first shall often be last while the last will be first!

--Fr. Pat

Excerpt from "A Catholic's Companion: Liturgical Cycle C" (c)2000 C. Patrick Creed
Published by Watchmaker Press. Maggie Hettinger, editor

TwentySecond Sunday in Ordinary Time--Liturgical Cycle C

2004-08-29T09:09:00.001-04:00

Humble yourselves the more, the greater you are,
and you will find favor with God.
What is too sublime or beyond your strength search not.
Conduct your affairs with humility.
You will be loved more than a giver of gifts.

TwentyFirst Sunday in Ordinary Time--Liturgical Cycle C

2004-08-22T08:48:00.000-04:00

Lectionary Readings

Reading I Isaiah 66:18-21
Responsorial Psalm Psalm 117:1-2
Reading II Hebrews 12:5-7, 11-13
Gospel Luke 13:22-30

Homily
Jesus went through the cities and towns teaching, all the while making his way toward Jerusalem.

Once again we are reminded that Luke is presenting Jesus “on the road” up to Jerusalem where the events of our salvation occur. We (you and I) are to be numbered among those on the journey to the heavenly Jerusalem, to our eternal salvation. It is a continuation of the commentary on the Lord’s Prayer, as Jesus teaches about the Kingdom come, the Kingdom of God, all those values we hold dear for our own life and for the lives of those most dear to us: family, friends, coworkers – indeed for the world, the Kingdom of God.

As so often happens on the journey in Luke’s presentation, one from the company will ask a question which Jesus reinterprets and answers the question which should have been asked. Remember the lawyer who asked “Who is my neighbor?” and Jesus rather answers how we can be neighborly? “Who among the three was neighbor to the man who fell among the robbers?”

The question asked in today’s gospel, “Are there few in number who are to be saved?” is reinterpreted and Jesus rather answers the question which should have been asked, namely “How can I be numbered among those who are saved?” How can I be numbered among those in the Kingdom of God?

Jesus proposes two images to address the question which should have been asked. The first is that all those on the road with Jesus must strive to enter by the narrow door; the second image is of the would-be disciple who stands outside the little company of travelers knocking on the door “once the master has risen to lock the door.”

We are familiar with the first image. In Matthew’s gospel, we will recall the door (the narrow door) is given its Jewish name, “the eye of the needle.” It’s that little door beside the large double doors of the walled, fortified city. Once the big double doors had been closed and bolted for the night, a desert caravan arriving late would have to unload the camels, pass the merchandise through the small door, the “eye of the needle,” then make the camels get down on their knees and push and shove them through. Jesus said, it was as difficult for a rich person to enter the Kingdom of God.

The point of that image and the point of this image in today’s gospel are the same. The Kingdom comes to those who detach themselves (including parishes) from accumulated money and stuff, and enter by the narrow door, “the eye of the needle.” The spirit of detachment, of complete trust in God’s providence when our world crumbles around us, is a requirement for the Kingdom – how we can be numbered among those who are saved.

There is a bit of oddity in the second image, did you happen to notice? One would have thought that it should have read, “once the master has locked the door and gone to bed,” instead of “once the master has risen to lock the door.” This is post-resurrection language and as such the meaning is clear. If we have not walked the road with Jesus to Jerusalem, to the Kingdom come, living his values – being detached from this world’s stuff – we will not rise with him. And so we will be outside knocking “once the master has risen to lock the door.”

“Are there few in number who are to be saved?” Rather, how can I be numbered among those who are to be saved, among those of the Kingdom? Paul writes today, speaking of God’s holy people as “sons” and “daughters,” those who are disciplined to bring forth peace and justice. All those who detach, who discipline themselves from the “stuff” of this world and who walk the Way of Jesus (the values of the new age) will rise to live in the Kingdom of God, here and forever.

--Fr. Pat

Excerpt from "A Catholic's Companion: Liturgical Cycle C" (c)2000 C. Patrick Creed
Published by Watchmaker Press. Maggie Hettinger, editor

Twentieth Sunday in Ordinary Time--Liturgical Cycle C

2004-08-15T10:15:00.000-04:00

First Reading: Jeremiah 38:4-6, 8-10
Responsorial Psalm:Ps40:2,3,4,18
Second Reading: Hebrews 12:1-4
Gospel: Luke 12:49-53

Homily

Some time ago (I forget how long) I was reading in the evening with the TV on at the same time and suddenly the program captured my attention.

The program was entitled Griffin and Phoenix and was subtitled A Love Story. The plot was simple enough: two young people, a man and a woman, unknown to each other, are told by each one’s physician that he and she have terminal, inoperative cancer and have a life expectancy of about one year. They accidentally meet, fall in love, discover each other’s secret and live out their short lives together.

While I didn’t agree with all the moral or ethical aspects of the story, there were some amusing and very human scenes of their doing what they always wanted to do but never had the courage or the time--things like climbing up the town water tower and painting “Class of ’91” or driving two of those amusement park toy cars right off the track and through the county fair crowd!

I suppose what really captured my attention was the poetic treatment of their mental attitudes and process after they had been told of their terminal illness. They went from non-belief to rage, to “I can lick this thing,” to self-pity, to acceptance, to the love of each other and of life here and now. Their whole life priority system changed.

We all have inoperable terminal illness. It’s called humanity. It’s only a small difference in the amount of time that differentiates each of us from the other. Why don’t we, you and I, view everything we do, how we live today, in view of that fact? Why don’t we, as St. Paul suggests today, “lay aside every encumbrance of sin which clings to us and persevere in running the race which lies ahead?…keeping our eyes on Jesus (on the Kingdom).

I like to hear the sayings of Jesus in today’s Gospel as all taking place within me, within my life—that fire, that division, that splitting. The baptism of anguish until it is over which we must all endure, being the wedge that separates what is important (of value, of God’s Kingdom) in my life from what is not of value.

With an eye on the finish line we may very well revise our priorities and that re-evaluation might very well separate us from some disgusting habits, from some “so-called” friends, from some family members, from some recreations and selfish routines. To live the gospel values of God’s Kingdom, we just may become who we really want to be.

--Fr. Pat

Excerpt from
Bringing About the Kingdom, "A Catholic's Companion: Liturgical Cycle C" (c)2000 C. Patrick Creed

Published by Watchmaker Press. Maggie Hettinger, editor

The Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary

2004-08-15T09:51:00.000-04:00

First Reading: Revelation 11:19a; 12:1-6a, 10ab
Responsorial Psalm: Ps 45:10, 11, 12, 16
Second Reading: 1 Corinthians 15:20-27
Gospel: Lk 1:39-56
Lectionary Readings

Homily
In life as in literature, especially as it is lived or written on the epic scale, there are moments of great discouragement and of great hope, moments of bitter defeat and dramatic victory.

The final section of the novel Lord of the Rings describes such a moment. An immense battle has begun. The forces of evil are relentlessly advancing on those defending their city, their homes, their old ones and their young ones, their life of liberty and justice. A pall of gloom covers the hearts of the valiant since they realize their despeate insufficiency for the massive struggle going on all about them. They had sent out scouts to summon the armies of a neighboring monarch, Theoden, King of Rohan, but those scouts have not been heard from; the armies of Rohan do not come.

The battle reaches the critical point, and the enemy cannot be contained. no help is anywhere to be found. All is lost. And then from far away to the north comes the sound which the defenders of the city had long awaited byt had despaired of ever hearing. From far away on the wings of the wind come the sounds of trumpets, of the marching rhythm of an advancing army. Rohan has come at last.

Then the victory, then the sweetness of liberty defended, of knowing that peace and freedom are sustained. Their sweat and tears and deaths and blood and sacrifices are vindicated.

The feast of the Assumption of Mary must be seen in such a light. The woman is the sign of victory in the sky, the sweet victory of right over evil. Those who choose the narrow, less-traveled road, the Way of Christ, are vindicated.

Then I hear a great shout from the heavens: Victory and power and dominion have forever been won by our God and authority, for the Christ.

--Fr. Pat

Excerpt from "A Catholic's Companion: Liturgical Cycle C" (c)2000 C. Patrick Creed

Published by Watchmaker Press. Maggie Hettinger, editor

Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time--Liturgical Cycle C

2004-08-08T09:10:00.000-04:00

First Reading: Wisdom 18:6-9
Responsorial Psalm Ps 33:1, 12, 18-19, 20-22
Second Reading: Hebrews 11:1-2, 8-19 or 11:1-2, 8-12
Gospel: Luke 12:32-48 or 12:35-40
Lectionary Readings

Homily
After Jesus and his little band of followers had spent an overnight at the home of Mary and Martha and were back on the road again, in answer to one of the crowd, who asked Jesus to teach them how to pray, Jesus gave us the Lord’s Prayer: “Abba, Father, hallowed be your name, your Kingdom come…”

In his gospel, Luke (and our liturgy, Sunday after Sunday) now presents various comments of Jesus on the elements of this prayer: in essence, what will bring this Kingdom about so that the Father (Abba) is hallowed.

First, we must get an idea of what Jesus is (and what we are) talking about when we say “Kingdom.”

What is “the Kingdom?”

I like to think that it is all those things, those values, we Christians hold so dear. That “way of life” which Jesus teaches by his life and death. It is a place where fair play and honesty prevail, where justice is tempered with mercy, where an honest day’s work receives an honest day’s pay, where our lifestyle is free of anxiety and stress, where there are people whom we fiercely love and who fiercely love us. Such a Kingdom can only exist in our dreams, our aspirations, goals to which we aspire and in that sense we can achieve a taste of it here, but the fullness of that Kingdom is to come. It is like Catherine of Sienna once said: “It’s heaven all the way to heaven.”

“Do not fear, little flock, the Father is pleased to give you the Kingdom,” reminds us Jesus wants us to savor the mystery that the Kingdom is here and yet to come. The disciple (the Christian) is called to be the Kingdom so that the kingdom will come.

Like Abraham of old, we are to set forth to a place we know not, so that the place we are going is where we are. Paul writes today, “Faith is confident assurance concerning what we hope for.” In other words, a taste of what we hope for is already possible. “Heaven is heaven all the way to heaven.”

It sounds confusing! Yet, is it not true that if we live as Jesus teaches, full of the values we dearly long for, then already the kingdom has come in our lives as we await the fullness of that kingdom in the presence of our God.

People often tell me that even after their loved ones have died for many years, someone whom they fiercely loved and who fiercely loved them, there is often that powerful and undeniable sense of their presence. It is so strong and real that it delights and thrills us.

That is the way it is when we earnestly live the values of the Kingdom. By our dedication to this lifestyle of Jesus, God’s presence is real and the Kingdom is come.

As disciples of the Lord, we are called to live the Kingdom of God’s values in our world so that indeed His Kingdom is in the midst of our lives and is present to all those with whom we live and move and have our being.

With today’s psalmist we pray:

May your Kingdom, O Lord, be upon us
who have put our hope in you.

--Fr. Pat

Excerpt from "A Catholic's Companion: Liturgical Cycle C" (c)2000 C. Patrick Creed

Published by Watchmaker Press. Maggie Hettinger, editor

Transfiguration of the Lord

2004-08-06T09:35:00.000-04:00

First Reading: Daniel 7:9-10, 13-14
Responsorial Psalm: Ps 97:1-2, 5-6, 9
Second Reading: 2 Peter 1:16-19
Gospel:Luke 9:28b-36
Lectionary Readings

Homily
When we attempt to communicate in language some powerful insight or some otherworldly experience which stirs the very depth of our being, only artists or poets manage to pull it off. They speak of their experiences in symbols and word pictures, paintings and sculptures.

Today’s scripture reading from Daniel is a case in point. The prophet’s powerful revelation, the insight of God’s presence breaking through in human affairs is like a Son of Man coming on the clouds, God’s throne aflame (like Elijah’s flaming chariot) – clothing sun-light bright, hair like snow-white wool. It is apocalyptic imagery—a message of revelation.

Luke’s account of the Transfiguration story is steeped in that apocalyptical language, a language of symbol and sign, of poetry and psalm. The word painting is full of the splendor of God’s presence in this Christ, fellow traveler with the disciples on the dusty road up to Jerusalem. This human Jesus’ appearance is changed like Moses’ at Sinai. His clothes become dazzling white. Moses and Elijah also appear.

The Greek word “appearance,” used twice, is the word for “theophany,” – revelation—divinity breaking through the veil of humanity. The “exodus” – the departure, the passage – is being discussed, the event of freedom about to be accomplished, fulfilled in Jerusalem. A cloud overshadows, connecting the overshadowing at the birth announcement and the overshadowing at the Jordan. Voices (insights, revelations) say, “The holy offspring to be born is Son of God;” and “This is my beloved Son. Listen to him.”

The passage is beyond our “nuts and bolts” understanding. Like any insight, any revelation, it must be absorbed with our hearts, not our heads.

Peter, like all of us, was so overcome by this “insight,” this beholding of the human Jesus, whom he knew, and the venerable Moses and Elijah, whom he had venerated all his life, that he breathlessly blurted out, “Master, it is good for us to be here! Let us make three tents (the word is “little tent,” tabernacle.) But Luke writes years later that Peter didn’t know what he was talking about.

Peter wanted to keep, capture, this presence of God in their midst. Like all humanity, we want desperately to encapsulate God. We’ve succeeded where Peter failed. We’ve got Jesus in our tabernacles.

Last week when we spoke of this in one of our daily mini homilies, Sr. Nancy Jane recited a Hindu poem for me, of which I later got a copy:

O God, forgive three sins,
Sins due to my human weakness:

You are everywhere,
Yet I come to adore you here.

You are shapeless,
Yet I adore your form.

You need no praise;
Yet I offer these prayers.

God does put up with our desire to nail the presence down. We are forgiven as was Peter.

Thinking of this revealing event years later, Peter was able to write of the insight (as our second reading today pointed out), speaking of it as a moment of “majestic splendor” bearing witness as having himself experienced it “while we were in his company on the mountain,” and as he heard God’s voice, “This is my beloved Son on whom my favor rests.”

“Keep your attention closely fixed on that (message),” he writes, “as you would on a lamp shining in a dark place (perhaps our hearts?) until the first streaks of dawn appear and the morning star rises in your hearts.”

--Fr. Pat

Excerpt from "A Catholic's Companion: Liturgical Cycle C" (c)2000 C. Patrick Creed

Published by Watchmaker Press. Maggie Hettinger, editor

Eighteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time--Liturgical Cycle C

2004-08-01T08:53:00.000-04:00

First Reading: Ecclesiastes 1:2; 2:21-23
Responsorial Psalm: Ps 90:3-4, 5-6, 12-13, 14, 17
Second Reading: Colossians 3:1-5, 9-11
Gospel: Luke 12:13-21

Lectionary Readings

Homily

Here is a person who has labored with wisdom and knowledge and skill who must leave his property to another who has not labored over it.

These words announced in today’s scripture must surely be among the saddest words in all the bible. Yet it is a truth which we all must certainly face.

In one way or another we all must leave those things over which we have cared so lovingly to others. And all we can do is just hope against hope that they will give themselves to the task with equal enthusiasm and concern.

It may be old age or sickness, and most surely and finally death itself, that tears us away from all those things and persons over which we so carefully and graciously hovered.

Recently I left a wonderful people as pastor of St. Margaret Mary parish (across from Oxmoor Center in Louisville) and took the pastorate of the churches at Campbellsville and Greensburg in south central Kentucky. Fr. Wafzig and Fr. Bowling could only hope that I would give the same loving care that they had, and I, for my part, could only hope and pray that those taking my place would continue the same care and concern I had for my former parish. Changing pastorates is like a little death and keeps us pastors from ever falling into the temptation of thinking that we are indispensable; that no one can take our place.

And that, it seems to me, is the message of the scriptures today. To think we are indispensable is vanity of vanities. “You fool, this very day your life will be required of you!”

The teaching of Jesus is clear. We must do our best over those things over which we are given stewardship. We must labor with wisdom and knowledge and skill, with all the talents at our command, those talents with which we are blessed, and in the end hand over to others what God has shared with us.

Since you have been raised up in company with Christ, set your heart on what pertains to higher realms where Christ is seated at God’s right hand. Be intent on things above rather than on things of earth.”

--Fr. Pat

Excerpt from "A Catholic's Companion: Liturgical Cycle C" (c)2000 C. Patrick Creed
Published by Watchmaker Press. Maggie Hettinger, editor

Seventeenth Sunday in Ordinary Time--Liturgical Cycle C

2004-07-25T08:23:00.000-04:00

First Reading: Genesis 18:20-32
Responsorial Psalm: Ps 138:1-2, 2-3, 6-7, 7-8
Second Reading:Col 2:12-14
Gospel: Lk 11:1-13

Lectionary Readings

Homily

After his visit at the home of Mary and Martha, Luke places Jesus and the little company of his disciples (which, hopefully, includes all of us) “on the road again.” As “we” continue our journey with Jesus “up to Jerusalem,” we are again presented with the teachings and sayings of Jesus. In today’s gospel selection, we are told, that after Jesus had finished praying, his disciples (all of us) question him about prayer.

Our church liturgy today helps us to understand, to hear this Jesus teaching on prayer, by citing three other passages from the bible:

(1) the story from Genesis on “persistence”

(2) the responsorial psalm on the effects of prayer (“Lord, on the day I called for help, you answered me.”)

(3) and finally the passage from Paul about the power of prayer.

The story of Abraham’s persistence reminds us of a youngster’s nagging, “Mom, please! Can I go? Plea…eese! Can I? Everybody’ll be there. Please, Mom? Can I go? PLEA…EEESE!” Now, under such a barrage, who would hand their child a snake, a disappointment?! When we persist in our prayer, can a loving God ignore our pleas?

Sometimes we can think that our prayers go unanswered, unheard. But anyone who stays at it knows that prayer has its own effect. It will be heard. It will be answered. Maybe not the way we wanted, but the way that is best for us.

As Paul points out in our second reading today, the power of prayer comes from our union with Christ. Those who live the baptismal call are incorporated into Christ. We rise with him to new levels of life. It’s like getting into a jet. We take on the speed and the power of the vehicle. When we are at one with the Christ of God we take on that kind of power. When we come together, as we are today, we form a body in Christ (the Body of Christ) whereby we pray all together as “us” and “we” and “our.” The prayer we say together as Church takes on the very power of God.

We find four kinds of prayer, or types of prayer, mentioned in the bible. They are sometimes referred to by the word “ACTS,” a word which is formed by taking the first letter of each type of prayer:

A = Adoration
C = Contrition
T = Thanksgiving
S = Supplication

(And these are all included in our mass liturgy.)

Adoration is the prayer in which we acknowledge and praise God as the first priority in our lives.

In the prayer of Contrition, we confess our sinfulness and our need for God’s mercy.

The prayer of Thanksgiving proclaims God’s many gifts to us as we do so perfectly in our Sunday Eucharist prayers.

Finally, in Supplication, we recognize our helplessness without God’s loving presence.

In all of these types of prayer, Adoration, Contrition, Thanksgiving, and Supplication, (ACTS) we hear Jesus; “Ask and you shall receive, seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.”

We learn from our scriptures today:

All four types of prayer must be persistent.
All are heard.
All are answered.

We, on our part, must never despair. We must be open to the answer that is best for us, and must be living in the way of the Lord Jesus, alive in His Body, the Church.

--Fr. Pat

Excerpt from "A Catholic's Companion: Liturgical Cycle C" (c)2000 C. Patrick Creed

Published by Watchmaker Press. Maggie Hettinger, editor

Sixteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time--Liturgical Cycle C

2004-07-18T09:15:00.000-04:00

Reading I: Genesis 18:1-10a
Responsorial Psalm: Psalm 15:2-3, 3-4, 5
Reading II: Colossians 1:24-28
Gospel: Luke 10:38-42
Texts of Lectionary Readings

Homily
At the conclusion of the story of the “Good Samaritan” in last Sunday’s gospel reading, Luke continues his narrative by once again placing Jesus on the grand journey up to Jerusalem:

On their journey, Jesus entered a village where a woman named Martha welcomed him to her home.

She had a sister named Mary who was also there, but it is the home of Martha and she is the principal person around whom the story today will unfold.

We noted in our introductory remarks last Sunday that Jesus did not answer the question posed by the lawyer: “Who is my neighbor?” but rather reinterprets the situation and forces the lawyer to answer the question which should have been asked. “Which of the three was neighbor to the man who fell among robbers?”

It forces the lawyer (and us) to answer the question which should have been asked, “How can I be a neighbor to others?” In this sense our neighbors are not named. They are anyone who is in need.

Thus the gospel leaves the question open-ended and this idea will be very important for us in the understanding of Luke’s gospel and the teaching of Jesus. In the ancient Lukan community, that little band (community) of Christian disciples in the midst of pagan, hostile Roman culture, will be challenged again and again both as individual Christians and as Church to be neighbor to the community in which it exists – regardless of who these people are: Jews, Gentiles, Samaritans, Romans, Pagans, … whatever.

This “Good Samaritan” story of neighborliness is then followed by Luke with a little story which helps us appreciate the condition, the requirement of discipleship, of sensitivity, of hospitality, of being neighborly. Indeed, it is the attitude required of the disciple, the individual Christian and of the whole Christian community, the church.

Martha, who was busy with all the details of hospitality, came to Jesus and said: “Lord, are you not concerned that my sister has left me to do the household tasks all alone? Tell her to help me.”

Like the question asked by the lawyer, Jesus now reinterprets the situation: “Martha, Martha, you are anxious and upset about many things.”

Now that’s her problem. She is concerned about so many things that she is not able to pay attention to the needs of both her guest (Jesus) or to the needs of her sister (Mary). That is the one thing that is required – to pay attention, to be hospitable, to the needs of others – whether the one set upon by robbers, the guests in one’s home, or one’s sister or brother or family.

Martha was not being a good neighbor. She is not, however, told to stop what she is doing, nor is Mary told to help her. But what is told to Martha is that she should have the attitude of respect for the needs of others. Martha is told how to relate to others in the community, in the family, whomever.

And that is what is important for us today to learn from the teaching of Jesus about being his followers, his disciples. We must pay attention to (be hospitable to, be good neighbors to) all those in our acquaintance, in our families, our community, our work place, our church. This is the one thing that is required.

--Fr. Pat

Excerpt from "A Catholic's Companion: Liturgical Cycle C" (c)2000 C. Patrick Creed

Published by Watchmaker Press. Maggie Hettinger, editor

Fifteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time--Liturgical Cycle C

2004-07-11T08:23:00.000-04:00

Reading I: Deuteronomy 30:10-14
Responsorial Psalm: Psalm 69:14, 17, 30-31, 33-34, 36, 37
Reading II: Colossians 1:15-20
Gospel: Luke 10:25-37
Texts of Lectionary Readings

Homily

The story of the Good Samaritan is pivotal in Luke’s presentation of Jesus. As we are invited to go along with Jesus, to become one of his disciples, to be sent out like the seventy-two in last Sunday’s gospel event, we now come to that part of the journey which is critical. Our allegiance to Jesus now begins to require our concern not only for those who love us (“for what good is that?”) but also for those who turn us off, especially those who are in need.

We read in Chapter 9 that while they were on their way, someone said to Jesus: “I will be your follower wherever you go.”

Jesus answered, “The foxes have dens and the birds have nests but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.”

To another, Jesus said, “Come after me.”

The person replied, “Let me bury my father first.”

Jesus said, “Let the dead bury the dead; come with me and proclaim the Kingdom of God.”

Yet another said to him, “I will be your follower but first let me take leave of my people.”

Jesus answered him, “Whoever puts his hand to the plow but keeps looking back is unfit for the Kingdom of God.”

But what exactly does it mean to proclaim the Kingdom, to be worthy of the Kingdom? In Chapter 10, Luke begins to pivot this teaching of Jesus to address this phase of “what it means to be a follower,” what it means to call oneself a Christian.

The teaching begins with the question of the lawyer: “Who is my neighbor?”

Jesus does not answer the lawyer’s question. Instead he tells a story, the story we all know by heart – the story of the good Samaritan – and tells it in such a way that he poses the question which should have been asked: “Who was neighbor to the man in need?” rather than “Who is my neighbor?” It places the burden of being neighborly to all who are in need rather than being of service only to someone who happens to fall within the definition of my understanding of who my neighbor is.

It has long been a precious understanding by our church tradition that we as church people (as followers of Jesus) respond to people in need no matter who they might be – even those who despise us or who do us harm.

We have but to look at our church members’ long and historic response to health care going all the way back to heroic people like Anthony of Padua, or Angela Merici. But we don’t have to go very far back in our history. We have but to look at our own Sisters of Nazareth, as reported in the Courier Journal on July 20, 1986.

AIDS MISSION IS JUST OLD ROLE IN NEW FORM FOR SISTERS OF CHARITY

Dozens of angry phone calls poured into Nazareth Nursing Home of Louisville after the news broke that the nursing home operated by the Roman Catholic Sisters of Charity of Nazareth, had asked the state for permission to care for AIDS patients.

“Why don’t you stick to your religion?” one caller asked the home’s administrator.

“I think I am,” Sister Gwen McMahon relied. “I think this is what Jesus would have done.”

Anyone who knows the Sisters of Charity shouldn’t have been the least bit surprised at their decision to set out on such a risky mission – or at their reason for doing so.

The Sisters of Charity, one of the first two Catholic religious orders originating in America, have been taking risks since they were founded near Bardstown in 1812.

For 165 of those 174 years, they’ve been caring for the sick.

Sister Gwen said, “There’s a lot of fear and apprehension right now. We’re talking about a fatal disease that nobody knows much about.”

Sister Charles Adele, 78 years old and a resident of the nursing home, said that the fear of AIDS reminds her of the fear of polio when she worked in the iron lung ward of the sisters’ Little Rock, Ark. hospital during the epidemic in 1949. “It was the same thing,” she said, “People were scared to death.”

She said she intends to visit the AIDS patients. “People near to the end like to talk and like to have somebody’s hand on their arm,” so “they know somebody’s there.”

“I think that’s what AIDS victims fear – that they’ll be left alone.”

From today’s scripture:

“Which of the three, in your opinion, was neighbor to the man who fell in with the robbers?”

The lawyer answered, “The one who treated him with compassion.” Jesus said to him, “Then go and do the same.”

That’s what it means to be a disciple, to call yourself a Christian. And that’s what it means to proclaim the Kingdom.

--Fr. Pat

Excerpt from "A Catholic's Companion: Liturgical Cycle C" (c)2000 C. Patrick Creed
Published by Watchmaker Press. Maggie Hettinger, editor

Thirteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time--Liturgical Cycle C

2004-06-27T08:04:00.000-04:00

Reading I: Kings 19:16b, 19-21
Responsorial Psalm:Psalm 16:1-2, 5, 7-8, 9-10, 11
Reading II: Galatians 5:1, 13-18
Gospel: Luke 9:51-62

Text of Lectionary Readings

Homily

Having celebrated the great seasons of our church’s Year of Grace—Advent, Nativity, Epiphany, Nativity, Epiphany, Lent, Easter Sundays, Trinity, Corpus Christi, and Pentecost—we now turn to the “Ordinary” Sundays of the year, which we remember being named “The Sundays After Pentecost.” The season’s assigned liturgical scripture readings are anything but “ordinary.” In fact, they are quite “extra-ordinary.” They are full of the presence of the Spirit of Jesus calling those who hear the Word to discipleship.

As we heard last Sunday, those who recognize the values preached by Jesus and accept a call to this New Way of life must deny their very selves, take up the task each day, and follow in his steps. The disciple who ascribes to God’s plan must walk the walk. As Luke develops the story of Jesus, he takes him on a journey up to Jerusalem and we, the listeners, join in step with Jesus and pass through this life into life forever in God.

Today’s Gospel presents several “Jesus sayings,” including one of my favorites. “Whoever puts their hand to the plow but keeps looking back is unfit for the reign of God.”

That’s such a picturesque way of saying, “Once you have committed yourself to Christ, made a decision for Christ, keep your eyes focused on the values of the Kingdom Come.”

There was a little Amish settlement on the Taylor/Casey county line not far from where I used to live when pastor of the Campbellsville Church. In fact, they used the road my home was on to drive their one-horse black buggies to and from the shopping centers in Campbellsville. This spring while driving in their neighborhood I caught sight of one from the community plowing his field. The scene put flesh on Jesus’ words today. Here is this immense field, maybe seventy-five acres, lying ahead of the farmer and he sets off with his mule and single plow to cultivate what must have seemed like an everlasting, exhausting task. His neighbor with his $85,000 John Deere (with its seven plow hitch) could do the same job in a couple of hours. But this Amish lad sets out to plow that ground row by row, never stopping until the land is ready for disking and seeding. What looks impossible becomes manageable one step at a time. I think that is what Jesus is saying to us: “One step at a time.”

Once we have made that decision for Christ, and set out to build the Kingdom with our gift of life, even though the crosses and the tasks look insurmountable, don’t look back, don’t hesitate, don’t falter, don’t quit, and eventually the task will be done and the harvest will be.

When I was an associate pastor with Fr. Tim at Holy Name back in the 1950’s, I recall a young husband and father who made a point of being at the 6:00 AM morning mass every day. Winter and summer, spring and fall, he never missed a weekday, even Saturdays. I was told by Fr. Tim that he had made a commitment the day he was married that he would take this time out for God in order that his marriage and family might be blessed. One day I talked to him about it and I’ll never forget what he said. “Father, at first I thought I was doing a great thing, fitting one hour of God into my life and family each day. But now, God has taken over and I find that my little life and family is instead being fitted into God.”

The guy had made a commitment and he stuck by it. He put his hand to the plow and never looked back. What starts out being a daily cross ends up being a daily resurrection to life. At our Baptism and each year at Eastertime we Catholics make a solemn commitment, a solemn decision for Christ and His Way of Life, his Values. We put our hand to the plow and with our eyes focused on Christ, we prepare the ground for the harvest which will be.

In the Courier-Journal Forum (6/28/92), I read a news item: “Creating Active Citizens,” by Dave Broder. It read,

Citizenship begins with commitment rather than expertise. Citizens do not need special preparation, advanced education or bureaucratic permits to get involved.

Neither do committed Catholics need anything special to get involved in the Kingdom.
--Fr. Pat

Excerpt from "A Catholic's Companion: Liturgical Cycle C" (c)2000 C. Patrick Creed
Published by Watchmaker Press. Maggie Hettinger, editor

Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time--Liturgical Cycle C

2004-06-21T08:18:00.000-04:00

Reading I: Isaiah 66:10-14c
Responsorial Psalm: Psalm 66:1-3, 4-5, 6-7, 16, 20
Reading II: Galatians 6:14-18
Gospel: Luke 10:1-12, 17-20
Texts of Lectionary Readings

Homily

Luke presents Jesus “on the road.” It is not a static figure but one “on the move,” this Jesus, on his way to Jerusalem. All along the way, Luke is presenting the teachings and the values of Jesus—values to which we, the believers, give a solid, absolute assent. We want those values in our lives, in the lives of our loved ones, in the way our society lives, in our world. We believe that these values are what establish peace and justice. And this is exactly what Jesus means when he speaks about the “reign of God” as he does in our gospel today: “The reign of God is at hand.”

When our countrymen gathered at Independence Hall on this date in 1775 and signed their names to that grand document and launched our liberty, they knew and accepted the real possibility of death to themselves, the loss of their hard-earned property, the suffering of their family and friends. They knew, yet they put their lives on the line. They were men of passion, of vision, and they believed in the concept of self-determination and liberty. Watching and reading the news from China this past week helps us understand Patrick Henry’s outburst in that Philadelphia hall, “Give me liberty or give me death.”

It makes me wonder about my own passion for the “reign of God” in my life and in my world. Today is a good time to ask ourselves that question. How passionately have we accepted the values of Jesus, his way of life, in our hearts and minds? How much are we willing to pay for the “reign of God,” for these values, for this “way of life”?

Luke continues to present Jesus as teaching this cost of discipleship, of being a follower of Jesus, a Christian. Luke’s rendition makes three points:

1. The “Reign” must be established for each of us in our own hearts and in the situation in which we ourselves live.

2. The establishment, the coming, is urgent. It is for the disciples to act NOW, not tomorrow or the next day.

3. The disciple can expect to be misunderstood, even openly opposed and ridiculed.

Thus it is within our own hearts and within our own places of life that the “Reign of God” (Jesus’ way of life) is to be present: those values of peace and harmony, fairness, honesty, good will. It is in our families, among our friends, on the job that this “Reign” must come.

It is urgent. No one else can do it for us. We are the disciples. Only each one of us touches others and other lives in exactly the way each of us alone can do. In the history of the world, if each of us does not do it, no one ever will; for only each lives where we live, touches what we touch in exactly our own unique way. Each moment, each new opportunity, will never come again!

No one says the coming of the “Reign” will be easy. The cost of discipleship can be enormous. Like liberty itself, the Way of Jesus, those values, can cost even death. As Paul said today,

May I never boast of anything but of the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ.

Reminds one of Patrick Henry. God’s reign is the narrow path. The one pointing it out will be opposed, ridiculed, and discriminated against.

We need to put an edge on our passionate declaration, our decision for Christ and his Way. Like those heroes of Valley Forge, we must renew our commitment to go the last mile.

Near the end of the second World War, Prime Minister Winston Churchill was invited to give the commencement address at a university in England. The story has it that after he was introduced by the headmaster with the pomp his status deserved, the Prime Minister walked to the podium and cleared his throat. In the manner of great orators, “My dear graduates,” he began in his very British accent, “I say to you, ‘Never, NEVER, give up’. “ I say to you again, ‘Never, NEVER give up’.” Then the great man walked to his place and sat down!

It is the conviction of what is right, what is truth, what is of value, what is of Christ, that sustains the disciple. The Reign of God will come to each, and when the each’s become the many, it will come to our world.

“Never, Never,” I say, “Never give up.”
--Fr. Pat

Excerpt from "A Catholic's Companion: Liturgical Cycle C" (c)2000 C. Patrick Creed
Published by Watchmaker Press. Maggie Hettinger, editor

Twelfth Sunday in Ordinary Time--Liturgical Cycle C

2004-06-20T07:57:00.001-04:00

Reading I: Zechariah 12:10-11; 13:1
Responsorial Psalm: Psalm 63:2, 3-4, 5-6, 8-9
Reading II: Galatians 3:26-29
Gospel: Luke 9:18-24
Texts of Lectionary Readings

Homily

Our continuous reading of the Gospel of Luke during this Liturgical year left off the last Sunday of February. Then Lent, Easter and Pentecost intervened as well as Trinity Sunday and Corpus Christi. We continue our readings today on the Twelfth Sunday of Ordinary time with the ninth chapter. In order for us to get a full picture of the Lukan gospel we ought to go back and regroup.

At Wal-Mart the other day, I was shopping for a wrist brace. They had braces for ankles, flat feet, hips, back, elbows, wrists, neck. If you fall apart, you can GLUE yourself back together again with Velcro. It occurs to me that the Word of God is a bit like Velcro. You can pretty much find a brace in the bible for any ailment. We can pick and choose what suits us.

Actually, we need to be reglued by the whole gospel message, not just a band-aid here and there.

We have learned that we are on the journey with Jesus up to Jerusalem and the events of our redemption. We are numbered among his followers, listening to the teaching. True disciples, we learn, do not simply preach about Jesus and the reign of God but participate in the reversal of roles, status and concern which the coming of salvation brings. Some renounce everything for the Jesus company while others use their resources in ways quite different from the ways of the world. The disciples do not seek exchanges which would create obligations to reciprocate. They do not pile up wealth, consuming for themselves the good things of creation. Instead, the disciple aids people who will never be able to repay them. They give so no one in the company will be in need. The disciple’s only anxiety is acquiring heavenly treasure. All are to follow Jesus’ example of suffering service rather than demanding service from others.

Last week, the eleventh Sunday, we heard the marvelous story in Chapter 7 of Luke, in which the woman washed the feet of Jesus, drying them with her hair during the feast at the home of a leading Pharisee. We heard Jesus’ dramatic teaching on forgiveness, an insight which connected forgiveness with lovingly giving-for. “I tell you, that is why her many sins are forgiven – because of her great love. Little is forgiven the one whose love is small.”

The multiplication of the loaves is a development of this sense of loving giving, in the selfless gift of the lad, and its eventual image at the Last Supper. It is the broken bread given-for, forgiving, in the shared cup, the Blood poured out, given for you in this New Covenant.

When all had eaten until they had enough and twelve baskets were left over, Luke places Jesus at prayer in the gospel reading today where he asks the disciples “Who do people say that I am?” and again, “Who do you say that I am?”

The first question doesn’t matter much – what other people think of Jesus is unimportant and Jesus pays no mind to it. But the second question is the one that you and I must answer: Who do you and I say that Jesus is? The answer need not be theological. Just a simple, deep-in-our-hearts knowledge of Who Jesus Is for me.

Even more decisive than that question is a second one, the answer to which will put the Velcro brace on our whole selves. “Who does Jesus say that I am?”

How we experience Jesus is one thing. How Jesus experiences us is quite another.

Today’s gospel puts before us two important questions: The first is, “How do I experience Jesus?”

Do we travel with Jesus on the journey? Hearing the teaching all along the way, do we pick and choose only what we feel is our present need, putting a Velcro brace here, another there? Is the Word of God a cane, a crutch, and academic proof or an exercise? A few minutes each day and a bit more on Sunday and then on about the really important things in living!

Or does this Word glue us together, sustaining us in every way?

The second question is even more important: “How does Jesus experience us?”

As a disciple or as a fan? Do we imitate Jesus or simply admire him? Do we pick up our selfless, giving cross every day as we follow him, or do we sit on the sidelines and applaud as Jesus passes by on the road?

We risk our lives and resources, both personally and in communion, as we engage in diverse ministries in living out this mission of ours.

Who is Jesus in our life? In my life?

Who are we, who am I, in Jesus’ life?

--Fr. Pat

Excerpt from "A Catholic's Companion: Liturgical Cycle C" (c)2000 C. Patrick Creed
Published by Watchmaker Press. Maggie Hettinger, editor

Twelfth Sunday in Ordinary Time--Liturgical Cycle C

2004-06-20T07:57:00.000-04:00

Reading I: Zechariah 12:10-11; 13:1
Responsorial Psalm: Psalm 63:2, 3-4, 5-6, 8-9
Reading II: Galatians 3:26-29
Gospel: Luke 9:18-24
Texts of Lectionary Readings

Homily

Our continuous reading of the Gospel of Luke during this Liturgical year left off the last Sunday of February. Then Lent, Easter and Pentecost intervened as well as Trinity Sunday and Corpus Christi. We continue our readings today on the Twelfth Sunday of Ordinary time with the ninth chapter. In order for us to get a full picture of the Lukan gospel we ought to go back and regroup.

At Wal-Mart the other day, I was shopping for a wrist brace. They had braces for ankles, flat feet, hips, back, elbows, wrists, neck. If you fall apart, you can GLUE yourself back together again with Velcro. It occurs to me that the Word of God is a bit like Velcro. You can pretty much find a brace in the bible for any ailment. We can pick and choose what suits us.

Actually, we need to be reglued by the whole gospel message, not just a band-aid here and there.

We have learned that we are on the journey with Jesus up to Jerusalem and the events of our redemption. We are numbered among his followers, listening to the teaching. True disciples, we learn, do not simply preach about Jesus and the reign of God but participate in the reversal of roles, status and concern which the coming of salvation brings. Some renounce everything for the Jesus company while others use their resources in ways quite different from the ways of the world. The disciples do not seek exchanges which would create obligations to reciprocate. They do not pile up wealth, consuming for themselves the good things of creation. Instead, the disciple aids people who will never be able to repay them. They give so no one in the company will be in need. The disciple’s only anxiety is acquiring heavenly treasure. All are to follow Jesus’ example of suffering service rather than demanding service from others.

Last week, the eleventh Sunday, we heard the marvelous story in Chapter 7 of Luke, in which the woman washed the feet of Jesus, drying them with her hair during the feast at the home of a leading Pharisee. We heard Jesus’ dramatic teaching on forgiveness, an insight which connected forgiveness with lovingly giving-for. “I tell you, that is why her many sins are forgiven – because of her great love. Little is forgiven the one whose love is small.”

The multiplication of the loaves is a development of this sense of loving giving, in the selfless gift of the lad, and its eventual image at the Last Supper. It is the broken bread given-for, forgiving, in the shared cup, the Blood poured out, given for you in this New Covenant.

When all had eaten until they had enough and twelve baskets were left over, Luke places Jesus at prayer in the gospel reading today where he asks the disciples “Who do people say that I am?” and again, “Who do you say that I am?”

The first question doesn’t matter much – what other people think of Jesus is unimportant and Jesus pays no mind to it. But the second question is the one that you and I must answer: Who do you and I say that Jesus is? The answer need not be theological. Just a simple, deep-in-our-hearts knowledge of Who Jesus Is for me.

Even more decisive than that question is a second one, the answer to which will put the Velcro brace on our whole selves. “Who does Jesus say that I am?”

How we experience Jesus is one thing. How Jesus experiences us is quite another.

Today’s gospel puts before us two important questions: The first is, “How do I experience Jesus?”

Do we travel with Jesus on the journey? Hearing the teaching all along the way, do we pick and choose only what we feel is our present need, putting a Velcro brace here, another there? Is the Word of God a cane, a crutch, and academic proof or an exercise? A few minutes each day and a bit more on Sunday and then on about the really important things in living!

Or does this Word glue us together, sustaining us in every way?

The second question is even more important: “How does Jesus experience us?”

As a disciple or as a fan? Do we imitate Jesus or simply admire him? Do we pick up our selfless, giving cross every day as we follow him, or do we sit on the sidelines and applaud as Jesus passes by on the road?

We risk our lives and resources, both personally and in communion, as we engage in diverse ministries in living out this mission of ours.

Who is Jesus in our life? In my life?

Who are we, who am I, in Jesus’ life?

Body
--Fr. Pat

Excerpt from "A Catholic's Companion: Liturgical Cycle C" (c)2000 C. Patrick Creed
Published by Watchmaker Press. Maggie Hettinger, editor

Trinity Sunday---Liturgical Cycle C

2004-05-13T08:07:00.000-04:00

Lectionary Readings

Homily
I’m certain that all of us have seen the “smiley emblem”: that round yellow face with two dots for eyes, a big semi-circle smile, with the logo “Have a nice day.” It is of course a symbol of the shining sun, inviting us to the warmth of a new, happy day.

Actually, we could think of the sun as having three smiling faces that smile down on us:

• one lights our way, allowing us to go and come, to labor and work the fields without artificial light

• another warms our planet, keeping the frigid, subhuman space-cold at bay, allowing us to live; and

• the third face sends out energy, rays of power to enliven our earth.

The first two we humans use to the hilt, but the third we are only beginning to realize. We know that it is the energy of the sun that makes the plants grow and produce the food that energizes our bodies, but we haven’t yet fully been able to capture that energy to power our machines or warm our homes. But scientists are getting ever closer. With the energy of oil beginning to run out, it is becoming more and more feasible to turn to the energy offered freely by the sun.

It is a lot like that with God. He could be considered as having three faces:

• one we call Father (since that is what Jesus taught us) and this face smiles the act of creating and keeping all things in existence (you and me and every bit of the environment around us);

• another is the face of the Son, whose smile takes flesh and becomes one of us, demonstrating on our own level how we can survive and live in peace, goodness, happiness;

• and the third face that smiles from God is the Spirit which energizes us into being images of God Himself, putting God’s life in our frail selves.

And so we might think of God as we think of the sun, as a great, loving friend having three faces.

We humans use the first two to the hilt, but the third, like the energy of the sun, we have yet to realize in its fullness. But we are getting better at it. This age has been termed a second Pentecost and not without reason.

The Pentecostal movement, sometimes referred to as the Charismatic Renewal, began in the early Sixties and was largely emotional with too little bible foundation. But this is changing in the 1980’s and 90’s to a Scripture-based spirituality, and flowing out from that is an enormous potential for energy. Here in our own parish church, we have been steadily moving along these lines.

The Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday scripture study and RCIA prayer group are but one example.

Another is the deliberate way I have been preaching over these past eleven years – constantly pounding away at bringing the Catholic bible tradition into our daily lives.

Another is our prayer together, morning and evening.

As the bulletin remarks today, visitors really note the difference when they experience our Sunday liturgy. These are all first steps at capturing the energy of the Spirit, like the first steps in capturing solar energy.

It is this energy which will make disciples for Christ – giving a baptism of the Spirit in God’s Holy Name, thus to carry out God’s plan for humankind, knowing that the Lord God will be with us until the end of time.

Veni Sancte Spiritus,
Et emitte coelitus
Lucis tuæ radium.

Veni pater pauperum,
Veni, dator munerum,
Veni lumen cordium.

Consolator optime,
Dulcis hospes animae
Dulce refrigerium.

In labore requies,
In æstu temperies,
In fletu solatium.

O lux beatissima,
Reple cordis intima
Tuorum fidelium

Sine tuo numine,
Nihil est in homine
Nihil est innoxium.

Lava quod est sordidum,
Riga goud est aridum,
Sana quod est saucium.

Flecte quod est rigidum,
Fove quod est frigidum,
Rege guod est devium.

Da tuis fidelibus,
In te confidentibus;
Sacrum septenarium.

Da virtutis meritum,
Da salutis exitum,
Da perenne gaudium.
Amen. Alleluia.

--Fr. Pat

Excerpt from "A Catholic's Companion: Liturgical Cycle C" (c)2000 C. Patrick Creed
Published by Watchmaker Press. Maggie Hettinger, editor

Pentecost Sunday---Liturgical Cycle C

2004-05-13T08:02:00.000-04:00

Lectionary Readings

Pentecost Sequence

Holy Spirit, Lord Divine,
Come from heights of heav’n and shine,
Come with blessed radiance bright!

Come, O Father of the poor,
Come, whose treasured gifts endure,
Come our heart’s unfailing light!

Of consolers, wisest, best,
And our soul’s most welcome guest,
Sweet refreshment sweet repose.

In our labor rest most sweet,
Pleasant coolness in the heat,
Consolation in our woes.

Light most blessed, shine with grace
In our heart’s most secret place,
Fill your faithful through and through.

Left without your presence here,
Life itself would disappear,
Nothing thrives apart from you!

Cleanse our soiled hearts of sin,
Arid souls refresh within,
Wounded lives to health restore.

Bend the stubborn heart and will,
Melt the frozen, warm the chill,
Guide the wayward home once more!

On the faithful who are true
And profess their faith in you,
In your sev’nfold gift descend!

Give us virtue’s sure reward,
Give us your salvation, Lord.
Give us joys that never end!

Homily
Remember John’s gospel, at the Last Supper, when Philip and Jesus are talking? Philip says, “Lord, show us your God (Father).”

Jesus answers him, “Phil, have I been with you all this time and you still do not know me? Who sees me sees my God. God and I are one.”

We can put ourselves into Phillip’s shoes (his sandals) to say with him, “Jesus, show us the Spirit.” Heaven knows, we would sure like to see a bit of Spirit in our lives. Things can get pretty boring sometimes, even fun stuff, even vacations. Life seems to lead nowhere. Is this all there is?

The Book of Revelation gives us two images: Beast of the Deep and City of God. The woman with the crown of stars and clothed in sunlight, about to give birth to the children of the world. The Beast of Evil ready to devour them. The Child and all who wash their robes white in the Blood of the Lamb, bathed in commitment, are swept up to the throne of God and come down from heaven as the Bride of the Lamb, the City of God. It is God’s reign, God’s will is done on earth as it is in heaven. It is the vision of Genesis, where all of humankind are in the Eden garden in easy peace with their God. The author of Apocalypse calls Spirit people to be about the building of this reign of God.

So when we, like Philip, ask the Lord, “Show us the Spirit and we will understand,” Jesus, impatiently, must say, “Who sees me sees the Spirit.” Who sees the Body of Christ, sees the Spirit. The Spirit is in all those once committed to the New Way, to the Way of God. The Spirit is in the faces all around you. Look in the mirror. The Spirit is there. We can smother it, we can push it to the corners of our being, but we cannot rid ourselves, or shake the presence from our being. G.K. Chesterson once remarked: “Christianity has not failed; it just hasn’t been tried yet.”

On the first day of Pentecost, Peter quotes the prophet Joel,

It shall come to pass in the last days, says God, that I will pour out a portion of my Spirit on all people. Your sons and daughters shall prophesy. Your young ones shall see visions and your old ones shall dream dreams.

Jesus was a seer of visions and a dreamer of dreams. Even in the midst of his ill-fated walk to Calvary, Jesus dreamed of a Spirit-filled people, a people who see visions and dream dreams about what can be. A Spirit-filled community of disciples, a new creation, a new reality—the reign of God, here and yet coming, able to be savored now and yet fully to flower. God’s will is done on earth as it is in heaven.

We can see this in the beatitudes of Matthew’s gospel. Here the visionary and dreamer, and all who walk in this Spirit see a new existence, a new kind of everyday life – a life that answers the question, “Is this all there is?” The dream and the vision see a happy people able to live in an imperfect world, amid suffering and evil, and still maintain a deep core of peace in their hearts.

It is a people in which God’s will is done – a world in which people are comforted, needs are met, mercy and forgiveness have primacy, devotion to God and to one another is singlehearted, relationships are friendly and warm as become the family of God. It is the world of the spirit, where God’s will is done on earth as it is in heaven.

I believe we are called by our God to be yeast in dough. I believe that true peace in one’s life is very possible. I believe we are called by our God to live life to the hilt: to be all God created us to be. It is God’s Spirit kindled like fire that keeps this dream, this vision, burning within.

We believe in the Sophia, the Holy Spirit, the giver of life,
who proceeds from the Father and the Son;
is worshiped and glorified
She has spoken through the prophets.
we believe in God the Holy Spirit.

--Fr. Pat

Excerpt from "A Catholic's Companion: Liturgical Cycle C" (c)2000 C. Patrick Creed
Published by Watchmaker Press. Maggie Hettinger, editor

Seventh Sunday of Easter---Liturgical Cycle C

2004-05-13T08:00:00.000-04:00

Reading I
Acts 7:55-60

Stephen, filled with the Holy Spirit, looked up intently to heaven and saw the glory of God and Jesus standing at the right hand of God, and Stephen said, “Behold, I see the heavens opened and the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God.” But they cried out in a loud voice, covered their ears, and rushed upon him together. They threw him out of the city, and began to stone him. The witnesses laid down their cloaks at the feet of a young man named Saul. As they were stoning Stephen, he called out, “Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.” Then he fell to his knees and cried out in a loud voice, “Lord, do not hold this sin against them;” and when he said this, he fell asleep.

Responsorial Psalm
Psalm 97:1-2,6-7,9
R/. The Lord is king, the most high over all the earth.

The LORD is king; let the earth rejoice;
let the many islands be glad.
Justice and judgment are the foundations of his throne. R/.

The heavens proclaim his justice,
and all peoples see his glory,
All gods are prostrate before him. R/.

You, O LORD, are the Most High over all the earth,
exalted far above all gods. R/.

Reading II
Revelation 22:12-14, 16-17, 20
I, John, heard a voice saying to me: “Behold, I am coming soon. I bring with me the recompense I will give to each according to his deeds. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the first and the last, the beginning and the end.”

Blessed are they who wash their robes so as to have the right to the tree of life and enter the city through its gates.

“I, Jesus, sent my angel to give you this testimony for the churches. I am the root and offspring of David, the bright morning star.”

The Spirit and the bride say, “Come.” Let the hearer say, “Come.” Let the one who thirsts come forward, and the one who wants it receive the gift of life-giving water.

The one who gives this testimony says, “Yes, I am coming soon.” Amen! Come, Lord Jesus!

Gospel
John 17:20-26
Lifting up his eyes to heaven, Jesus prayed saying: “Holy Father, I pray not only for them, but also for those who will believe in me through their word, so that they may all be one, as you, Father, are in me and I in you, that they also may be in us, that the world may believe that you sent me. And I have given them the glory you gave me, so that they may be one, as we are one, I in them and you in me, that they may be brought to perfection as one, that the world may know that you sent me, and that you loved them even as you loved me. Father, they are your gift to me. I wish that where I am they also may be with me, that they may see my glory that you gave me, because you loved me before the foundation of the world. Righteous Father, the world also does not know you, but I know you, and they know that you sent me. I made known to them your name and I will make it known, that the love with which you loved me may be in them and I in them.”

Homily
From its earliest moments the church came to realize it was to live in a hostile world. Our first reading from Acts comes from the account of the death of Stephen, one of the seven men chosen to swell the ranks of the Apostles to carry out the work of outreach to the needy—the first Deacons. This is Stephen, who, filled with grace and power, was working great wonders and signs among the people, whose good work threatened the established society, and who was stoned, becoming the first Christian martyr. Stephen’s death signaled that the message of Jesus (peace, love, justice, reconciliation, civility, moral integrity) was not always going to be received kindly but was going to be opposed violently in a world dominated by the weakness of sin.

The second reading gives the same sense in symbolic terms. In the language of Revelation the Bride of the Lamb, the holy city coming down from God (the reign of God), was not going to be allowed to exist alongside the Harlot of Babylon – the personification of all that is evil in the societies of those whose god is self-gratification. The Bride of the Lamb must by nature be contra culture, must speak out in defense of the little ones, the poor and powerless of this earth.

Happy are they who wash their robes so as to have free access to the tree of life and enter the city through its gates.

The quote continues with a verse left out of our reading today:

Outside are the dogs and tempters, snakes, the fornicators and murderers, the self worshipers and all who love falsehood (doublespeak).

As we conclude the liturgical reading of the Book of Apocalypse today, we recall that the writings are resistance literature for a church under siege, a call of encouragement to remain faithful and not to accommodate the gospel or water it down to satisfy the lifestyles of greed and self satisfaction. Under the thumb of the Roman emperor Domitian the little insignificant Christian communities of antiquity were literally being swallowed up by the lion of Rome. Like Stephen, they needed to see the heavens open and the Lord of Hosts coming on the clouds of Glory, needed to see themselves as the Bride of the Lamb, a holy city of God coming down from God’s throne of glory.

The Holy Spirit and the Bride of the Lamb say, “Come.” Let all who hear answer, “Come!” Let all who are thirsty come forward; Let all who desire it accept the gift of life-giving water.

We need to see Steven’s vision too. As our Sisters of Charity of Nazareth can attest, experience in India and other parts of the world shows we are a church under siege. The Body of Christ is not being treated well, never will be. Our witness for justice, for human rights, for the aged, the poor, the powerless, for civility and moral integrity will be violently opposed by those who get drunk on the blood of the martyrs, who fill their chalices with the lewdness of their life-styles. The Beast of the deep waits at the foot of the Woman clothed with Light to eat the newborn children of God, who are snatched up to the Lamb—risen to life of the one who stands by God’s throne.

What an apocalyptic vision for our times!

We see the vision of Stephen. We pray the prayer of our heritage: MARANA THA! (Come, Lord God!)

O Just Holy One,
The world has not known you.
But I know you.

Those know that you sent me.
To them I reveal Your Name
(who you are).

I will always reveal it,
So that your love may live in them.
And I may live in them.

AMEN.

--Fr. Pat

Excerpt from "A Catholic's Companion: Liturgical Cycle C" (c)2000 C. Patrick Creed
Published by Watchmaker Press. Maggie Hettinger, editor

The Ascension of the Lord---Liturgical Cycle C

2004-05-13T07:56:00.000-04:00

Lectionary Readings

Homily
In the bible reading today we are presented with two different accounts of the same event by the same author! Luke concludes his Gospel with the story of the ascension, the “going away” of Jesus. That same story coupled with the command of being His (Jesus’) witnesses, also forms the beginning of Luke Acts.

The Gospel account was developed long before Acts and thus has a far more concise rendition. The account in Acts, while basically the same narration, elaborates and interprets the Gospel story. It is the development, the interpretation that we want to focus our attention on, because it is this development that points out to us how the apostolic church was enlightened to understand the fact of the ascension, of Jesus’ going away.

You see, His going away caused great anxiety in the infant church. Luke helps his readers to catch the emotional impact by giving us, in the infancy narrative, the story of the twelve-year-old Jesus absent, lost, to his parents for three days. We of our time can empathize with parents whose child is missing.

The reason for his staying in the temple, you recall, will be the same reason for his ascension to the father—i.e. to be about His Father’s affairs.

By the time the book of Acts was written it was obvious to the early Christians that the Kingdom preached by Jesus was not going to be something imposed from above, something handed to them on a silver platter. The real message of Jesus was beginning to sink in. The individual believer, as well as the community of believers (the Church), were to be witnesses to the Kingdom, to bring the Kingdom into being both in each one’s own heart and to the world each touches. The Christians were to be Jesus to our world. In other words, each one of us must be about our heavenly Father’s affairs: the coming of the Kingdom.

This will be a major theme of our church’s Easter celebration—to renew our baptismal commitment to be witnesses of God’s Kingdom to the world each of us touches, and to do so together as Church, as a community of disciples.

Those baptized in the Spirit are not to stand around looking up to heaven, but to go out from Jerusalem into the whole world with the message of the Gospel, of the Kingdom. We, you and I, are numbered among that company of believers, the community of disciples.

We must recommit ourselves to our mission of witnesses to the Kingdom, to God’s Way, which is the Way of Jesus.

--Fr. Pat

Excerpt from "A Catholic's Companion: Liturgical Cycle C" (c)2000 C. Patrick Creed
Published by Watchmaker Press. Maggie Hettinger, editor

Sixth Sunday of Easter---Liturgical Cycle C

2004-05-13T07:35:00.000-04:00

Lectionary Readings

Homily
Once I got a call from a Southern Baptist Seminarian. He was asking for an appointment at St. Joe’s about assisting him in a school project. He had prepared a questionnaire regarding prayer in ministry. It asked questions such as:

What is prayer?
What do you pray about?
What are ways in which one could see prayer abused in ministry?
What are ways prayer is appropriately used in ministry? etc.

The last question asked,

Do you have any other helpful suggestions on the subject of prayer?

I had dashed off some ideas but was surprised at my answer to the last question. I wrote:

“One of the greatest requirements, it seems to me, for personal holiness (personal wholeness) at the core of one’s being which is so necessary for prayer, is a good and active sense of humor—not taking oneself, or people or events, too seriously. The Lord will provide!”

Reflecting on the scriptures today, I suspect that the church has put them together with tongue in cheek. By themselves they could be read quite seriously, but when you put them side by side, I can’t help but see the Spirit dancing with joy!

The first reading is so like us—all tangled up in our own importance:

It is the decision of the Holy Spirit (and ours too) not to lay any burden beyond that which is strictly necessary…to abstain from meat sacrificed to idols, from blood, from meat of strangled animals…

...Now isn’t that something?!

Now, look at the freedom of the second reading from the Book of Revelation. The beautiful vision of the City of God coming down from heaven. The Semitic “City” as a place of haven, a mother enfolding the traveler in its protecting arms. It sparkles like a diamond—its gates are open on all sides to receive the weary traveler into its bosom. God himself is the temple who embraces us on the way.

Or how about that last sentence in the first reading: “You will be advised to avoid these things. Farewell.

Compare that with the farewell of the Gospel where Jesus says, “Peace is my farewell to you.”

And we know that his “peace” is the doing of the Words, his way of life. Not the words of people, of authority, of big shots. Their precepts are of human origin, not divine.

In all of this a good sense of humor seems a necessity. We have to laugh at our carryings on—necessary as they might be. The church in placing these readings side-by-side is giving us a good look at ourselves. Good order and discipline is necessary for any society of human beings and are necessary for the church’s life here on earth. But we should never canonize these rules and regulations as a matter of divine life or divine death. Such discipline seeks to help us along the way and when that function is antiquated that regulation must be discarded.

A good sense of humor, that light and free spirit of God, is indeed so necessary for our prayer, our conscious awareness of God’s presence. We must not take ourselves too seriously. God will provide.

So on this Sunday which begins to build a bridge between the Resurrection and the Ascension, and Pentecost, we must remember that the Spirit, light and free and dancing, is alive and well and growing among us right here, right now.

--Fr. Pat

Excerpt from "A Catholic's Companion: Liturgical Cycle C" (c)2000 C. Patrick Creed
Published by Watchmaker Press. Maggie Hettinger, editor

Fifth Sunday of Easter---Liturgical Cycle C

2004-04-30T23:10:00.000-04:00

Lectionary Readings.

Homily
The second bible reading on the Fifth Sunday of Easter continues to present passages, like snapshots, from the Book of Revelation (the Apocalypse). Taken from Chapter 21, it is a vision of what God created us to be if humanity would but be faithful to the Way of Jesus. Our world would be like a holy city, come down from heaven.

Only the Lamb of God is found to be worthy to break the seven seals of the scroll of history and reveal God’s hidden plan for all creation: That God alone is ultimately in charge; he alone makes all things, even the vilest evil, work to accomplish His divine will. The famous Four Horsemen appear and usher in the world’s lamentations and wailings and woes, which become as sweet as honey in the mouth for those who remain faithful. We sense this in the breaking of the seventh seal when, in the vision, an angel stands forth before the throne of the Lamb bearing a censer and incense. (We recall the bit of incense required in declaring the Roman emperor Domitian as “lord and god.”)

From the angel’s hand the smoke of the incense went up before God, and with it the prayers of God’s people.
(Rev. 8:4)

Then there are the seven trumpets, the last of which ushers in the vision of the Woman clothed with the sun, with the moon under her feet, and on her head a crown of twelve stars. The woman gives birth to a child whom the dragon (read “Rome”) seeks to devour, a son destined to shepherd all nations (even evil Rome) with an iron rod. But the child is snatched up (raised up) to the throne of God!

Now have salvation and power come—the reign of our God and the authority of his anointed (Christed) one.
(Rev. 12:10)

Next comes the image of the two beasts, the first representing Emperor Nero and the second of “Nero-Come-Back-to Life” (Emperor Domitian).

The second wild beast was then permitted to give life to the Beast’s image (statue) so that the image had the power of speech and of putting to death anyone who refused to worship it. It forced all men, small and great, rich and poor, slave and free, to accept a stamped image on their right hand or their forehead. Moreover, it did not allow a man to buy or sell anything unless he was first marked with the name of the beast or with the number that stood for its name.
(Rev. 13:15-18)

(The number 666 is Hebrew cryptic for Caesar Nero.)

As mentioned above, today’s “snapshot” is a vision of the victory, not simply a vision of heaven but a dream of how people should and can exist in a fellowship of peace. The imagery comes out of the books of Isaiah and Ezekiel. (Is 65:17, Ez 38:27)

The gospel message for the Fifth Easter Sunday is the Lord’s command that people “love one another” and the reading from Acts testifies to the fellowship of community love at Antioch. The Lord God pitches his tent among His people gathered, assembled, churched. God is with us and the victory of faithfulness shall be ours for we are stamped, “sealed,” with the presence of God.

--Fr. Pat

Excerpt from "A Catholic's Companion: Liturgical Cycle C" (c)2000 C. Patrick Creed
Published by Watchmaker Press. Maggie Hettinger, editor

Fourth Sunday of Easter Liturgical Cycle C

2004-04-30T23:05:00.000-04:00

Lectionary Readings

Homily

On this Fourth Easter Sunday, the bible message boldly proclaims God’s care and concern for any and all who hear his voice and follow after the shepherd.

He is the Good Shepherd of the Gospel who guards the flock that recognizes his call. These shall never perish; no one shall snatch them out of his hand.

The Hebrew psalm reminds all people “whose God is the Lord” that “they are his people, the flock he tends.”

Even in the midst of persecution and trial, like that of Paul and Barnabas, the true disciples (“those who respond to the Word with praise,” we hear in Luke Acts) are watched over and delivered from evil.

Today’s selection from the Book of Revelation, our second reading, is one of the most tender and caring passages in all the bible. Written to Christians near the end of the first century, the author, John, using apocalyptic style, sends a coded message of encouragement to the little church communities along the Mediterranean. Their ranks beginning to sag under the fierce persecution of the Roman Emperor Domitian, only those steeped in biblical tradition can cipher its ringing call to remain steadfast, faithful, loyal to their baptismal commitment.

Like all human institutions, the Roman government wanted its citizens to pledge absolute loyalty: “My country right or wrong”; and refused to recognize a higher moral authority. Under pain of death, citizens were expected to pronounce an oath of allegiance to the Emperor Domitian, recognizing him as Dominus et Deus, “lord and god.” All were to make this oath by burning a bit of incense before the statue of Domitian erected in the town squares.

It was a time of great trial for the churches. Families were torn apart. Fathers and mothers, sons and daughters, were put to the test. There were betrayers, traitors, accommodators (the Nicolaitans).

The Apocalypse was resistance literature. Lest those who remained faithful to the Lord should feel alone in their struggle, the writer of Revelation calls them to see a vision, “a huge crowd” standing “before the throne,” not the throne of Domitian, but “the throne of the Lamb.”

These are the ones who have survived the great period of trial.

They have washed their robes white in the blood of the Lamb.

Never again shall they know hunger or thirst,
nor shall the sun or its heat beat down on them.

We should almost blush at our own little trials and temptations, our own heartaches and separations. If these early Christians could see a vision of God’s comfort and concern through their awesome sufferings cannot we have faith in his healing touch?

for the Lamb on his throne will shepherd them
…and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.

If your heart aches today, remain steadfast in His love. For He is Dominus et Deus, Lord and God. The Good Shepherd tends his sheep.
--Fr. Pat

Excerpt from "A Catholic's Companion: Liturgical Cycle C" (c)2000 C. Patrick Creed
Published by Watchmaker Press. Maggie Hettinger, editor

Third Sunday of Easter---Liturgical Cycle C

2004-04-30T22:56:00.000-04:00

Lectionary Readings

Homily
Every third year, on the Sundays after Easter, our Catholic Liturgy treats us to a sampling of the Book of Revelation, the Apocalypse—as it was once called. If we hear these weekly selections carefully, it’s a taste which can whet our appetite.

The word “Apocalypse” means a “revelation.” It’s like one of those cryptograms in a Crossword Puzzle book, where the letters are all mixed up, an “a” is a “t” and an “e” is a “b” and so on. Once you find the formula, the sentence is decoded and it all makes sense. Apocalyptic literary form is like that. Once you can decode it the message is clear.

The Book of Revelation is written in this apocalyptic form, which was very popular in antiquity. Among the Hebrew people we have the Book of Daniel and Ezekiel and Zechariah as examples of this style.

What the writer does is use words, ideas, images, symbols which are known to his intended readers but are “Greek” to an outsider. Apocalyptic is a revelation only to those who can decode it, who are privy to its secret message. There are 404 verses in the book of Revelation and 278 are words and phrases lifted right out of the Old Testament. Of the remaining 126, over half have their meaning in Christian thought.

The Book of Revelation is addressed by the writer to the First century Christian communities in the coastal towns around the Mediterranean Sea. These early churches were under the siege of persecution by the Roman emperor. If this document offering hope and urging steadfastness and resistance fell into the hands of the Roman authorities, it would have been unintelligible to them; they did not have the “key” to decode them.

Take, for example, last Sunday’s reading from the Prologue of the Book: the reader is introduced to the vision of “seven lampstands of gold and among the lampstands One like a Son of Man,” holding in his right hand seven stars. Only one versed in the Hebrew tradition would know that “seven” is the code number of perfection and only a Christian would know that the lampstand is the Light of Christ, the Lumen Christi and that the seven stars are, as we are told, “the presiding spirits of the churches.”

Since the number is “seven” we know that the Revelation is for all the Christian communities of that First Century. But its message is universal: it is addressed also to all the churches of our century as well. We have to hear it carefully; it speaks to us, a people under persecution so cleverly designed that we become entangled and give up without a fight. (Read Wendell Berry’s article, Fall of Community, in which he shows how it has eaten away our human decency.)

The Book begins with the seven letters from the presiding spirits of the seven churches: Ephesus, Smyrna, Pergamum, Thyatira, Sardis, Philadelphia, and Leaodicea. Since the number is “seven” the biblical mind considers these letters addressed to all churches, including our own. The author has “seven eyes” and “seven horns” – perfect wisdom and perfect power, all-seeing and all-powerful. Each letter compliments the church on its steadfastness, its devotion to the Christ, and each letter points out weakness and failures and encourages stout-heartedness.

The situation of the Christian churches at the end of the first century had become quite desperate. The Roman Emperor, Domitian, sensing that the kingdom was beginning to break up, set down a decree that each citizen must swear an oath of allegiance, like our pledge of allegiance, to himself (Domitian) as “lord and god.” Along with this oath, the citizen was required to offer a bit of incense burning before a statue of Domitian erected for that purpose in every town’s central plaza. That is when this letter of the Apocalypse swings into action, encouraging all Christians to resist, to remain faithful.

Who can say that this scripture has no relevance for us today?

The little snapshot from the Book of Revelation in today’s reading has reference to the “Scroll of History.” There is no one to be found to open the scroll, for who is worthy to be privy to the councils of God? One of the Four Elders (“four” is a code number for worldwide) says, “The Lion of Judah, the Root of David, (Old Testament messianic phrases) has won the right by his victory to open the scroll with the seven seals.”

Then comes the vision of the Lamb that was slain, now standing before the throne of God. Only a Christian would catch the image of the Lamb that was slain who now is alive. The whole heavenly choir cries out:

“Worthy is the Lamb that was slain
to receive power and riches
wisdom and strength,
honor and glory and blessing.”

“To the one who sits on the throne and to the Lamb
be blessing and honor, glory and might,
forever and ever.”

“Amen!”

The message is clear:

God in Christ is in charge of history. He is the final victor. The Roman emperor is not “lord and god.” Our allegiance is to the Lamb of God and to him alone!

It speaks to us this day.

--Fr. Pat

Excerpt from "A Catholic's Companion: Liturgical Cycle C" (c)2000 C. Patrick Creed
Published by Watchmaker Press. Maggie Hettinger, editor

Second Sunday of Easter---Liturgical Cycle C

2004-04-23T07:31:00.000-04:00

Lectionary Readings

Homily

Today, and for the next five Sundays, the church presents to us readings from the Book of Revelation, or Apocalypse. This book of the bible is seldom used in our Liturgical services of the Word and is not often read or preached about within the Catholic community.

However, it is very popular among evangelistic church communions and is used by many preachers to predict the future. The language is very symbolic and lends itself to all kinds of interpretations, which is probably why many find the book the most difficult to understand in all of the bible.

Apocalyptic writing is a literary device, a way of writing that was very popular in antiquity—the Book of Daniel is such a form of writing. The word itself, apocalypse, means a revelation, an uncovering, a decoding. The work is fashioned in such a manner that only the “insiders” will catch the message. Much of the composition (estimated as well over 80%) is taken from phrases out of the Old Testament, especially the language and thought patterns of the books of Ezekiel and Zechariah. For an outsider, one not familiar with the Old Testament and the Christian teachings, the work would have made no sense at all—it would have been written in coded language which the casual reader would be unable to uncover, to decode, to have the message revealed.

Symbolic descriptions are not to be taken literally. For example, Christ the Lord is described as the Lamb—with seven eyes and seven horns. Seven is the number of perfection in this code and so the Lamb has perfect power (the horns) and perfect knowledge (the eyes). In the bible, as well as other writings of antiquity, numbers are used as symbolic codes:
• four is the world;
• six symbolizes imperfection,
• twelve stands for the apostles, the nations of Israel (12 tribes);
• a thousand means immensity, infinity.

For example, the “144,000 saved” (from the familiar reading on All Saints Day) becomes 12 X 12 added to the symbol of the thousand and signifies an unlimited number, unable to be counted.

Another significant feature of apocalyptic writing is the use of symbolic colors, e.g. the colors of the famous four horses of the Apocalypse: White, Red, Black and Sickly Green. Or the yellow gold mentioned in today’s reading—of the lampstand and around the waist of the Lord.

Since what God is revealing to us in the scriptures is what the sacred author intended to say, it is of the utmost importance that we strive to uncover exactly what is meant by the author and do not read into it what we think it ought to say. In order to do this we must take into account the historical situation that the Book of Revelation reflects.

Catholic as well as Protestant biblical scholars now agree that the book was written between the years 81 and 96, and was a reflection of the crisis in which the early Christian communities found themselves. Emperor Domitian ruled over the Roman Empire and was a bigger despot then Nero. Realizing the vast kingdom was beginning to split, he sought to unite it not only by military force, but also by an oath of interior loyalty. Thus he had his image set up in the principle townships with an eternal flame burning in front of it and all suspected subjects were to offer a pinch of incense—for Domitian declared himself to be both lord and god, in Latin: Dominus et Deus, in Greek: Erios Theos! The writer of Revelation declares that’s going too far and counsels the young Christian communities to resist. And the first worldwide persecution begins, the blood of martyrs flows.

Some Christians accommodated the gospel. They are the Nicolaitans spoken of in the seven letters to the churches. The Lord says: “You must detest the practices of the Nicolaitans, just as I do.” The thrust of the book, and its value for us today, is the strong statement to remain faithful, not to accommodate the Gospel in the face of secularism—to be, as the writer of Apocalypse calls, a witness, a martyr for Jesus, who alone is the first and the last, who alone is Lord and God.

To the angel of the church in Ephesus, write this:

“The one who holds the seven stars in his right hand and walks in the midst of the seven gold lampstands says this: “I know your works, your labor, and your endurance, and that you cannot tolerate the wicked; you have tested those who call themselves apostles but are not, and discovered that they are impostors. Moreover, you have endurance and have suffered for my name, and you have not grown weary. Yet I hold this against you: you have lost the love you had at first. Realize how far you have fallen. Repent, and do the works you did at first. Otherwise, I will come to you and remove your lampstand from its place, unless you repent. But you have this in your favor: You hate the works of the Nicolaitans, which I also hate.

‘Whoever has ears ought to hear what the Spirit says to the churches. To the victor I will give the right to eat from the tree of life that is in the garden of God.’”
Revelation 2:1-7

The seven lampstands symbolize the whole church, as well as the seven letters of encouragement addressed to the churches at:

Ephesus Smyrna
Pergamum Thyatira
Sardis Philadelphia
Laodicea

These letters end with this admonition:

Let those who have ears heed the Spirit’s word to the churches.

--Fr. Pat

Excerpt from "A Catholic's Companion: Liturgical Cycle C" (c)2000 C. Patrick Creed
Published by Watchmaker Press. Maggie Hettinger, editor