There was a certain bishop who loved to play golf. He carried his golf bag in the trunk of his car,
always ready to get out on the course should the opportunity arise. One year, when Spring rolled
around, he announced that he would make the supreme sacrifice: no golf during Lent. He did well for
two weeks, resisting every temptation to open that car trunk. But one bright sunny morning as he rode
past a beautiful golf course he wavered. "I'll just hit a few practice swings," he said to himself. But
when he got out on the turf, he was lost. He played the entire 18 holes. Unfortunately for him,
however, a heavenly angel was watching. The angel reported to St. Peter, "Look down there, the
bishop is playing golf. He's breaking his Lenten promise. He must be punished! Shall I strike him dead
with a lightening bolt?" St. Peter replied, "No. That's being too easy on him. I'll punish him more
severely." The bishop was then on the last tee. It was a difficult hole to play, 450 yards long. The
bishop swung and hit an amazing drive. The ball hit the green and rolled into the cup: a hole in one.
"Look at that," the angel cried, "a 450-yard hole in one. Do you call that punishment?" To which St.
Peter replied, "For a golfer that is the greatest punishment possible. The bishop has just hit the most
spectacular shot in golf history, and he can't tell anyone about it."
In today's Gospel, a group of scribes and Pharisees are determined to mete out the strongest
possible punishment under the law -- death by stoning -- to a woman who has been caught committing
adultery. Actually, they want to use the incident to entrap Jesus. "Teacher," they say to Him, "this
woman has been caught in the act of adultery. In the law, Moses ordered such women to be stoned.
What do You say about the case?" (Jn. 8:4-5). They perceive that Jesus would call for mercy, in which
case they would accuse Him of flaunting the law. Jesus replies, "Let the man among you who has no
sin be the first to cast a stone at her" (Jn. 8:7). Hearing this, "the audience drifted away, one by one,
beginning with the elders," John tells us (Jn. 8:9).
There are several Gospel episodes in which Jesus' adversaries try to create a situation in which they can
use His words and deeds against Him. There also are Gospel episodes in which Jesus' friends use His
words and deeds against Him. In the third chapter of Mark, Jesus has begun to attract a large following.
"He had healed so many," Mark tells us, "that all who had diseases pressed in upon Him" (Mk. 3:10).
Because of the crush, Jesus tells His disciples to have a boat ready for Him so that He might withdraw
in safety. Away from the crowds now, He goes about enlisting twelve men into His ministry. He tells
them to drop everything in order to involve themselves completely in His service. "Then," Mark says
simply, "He went home" (Mk. 3:19). There the crowds catch up with Him. Seeing all the commotion,
His friends begin to spread the word: "He is beside Himself" (Mk. 3:21). In other words, "He is a mad
man. He's crazy." On another occasion, Jesus comes to Nazareth, "the town where He was brought up"
(Lk. 4:16). As was His custom on the sabbath day, He entered the synagogue to read the Scripture and
to preach. He opened the book and found the place where it was written,
The Spirit of the Lord is upon Me, because He has anointed Me to preach Good News to the poor. He
has sent Me to proclaim release to the captives and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty
those who are oppressed ... (Lk. 4:18).
Jesus "closed the book, and gave it back to the attendant ... and He began to say to them, 'Today this
Scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.' And all spoke well of Him and wondered at the gracious
words that proceeded out of His mouth" (Lk. 4:21-22). Then Jesus began to apply the lesson to His
friends and neighbors sitting before Him and, suddenly, His words no longer sounded gracious to them.
They became hostile because He was telling them that God's Love extended to all peoples -- even their
enemies. Suddenly, Jesus was a prophet without honor in His own home town. The towns-people were
"filled with wrath." "They rose up and led Him to the brow of the hill on which their city was built, that
they might throw Him down headlong" (Lk. 4:28). In other words, they tried to lynch Him. John's
Gospel tells us that after Jesus had preached the parable of the Good Shepherd, many of His own
people decided that He was possessed by a devil. "He is out of His mind," they said, "Why pay any
attention to Him anymore?"
Mohandas Gandhi dedicated his adult life to the cause of peace and brotherhood. He traveled the length
and breadth of India, living among the poor, proclaiming release to the captives and liberty to the
oppressed. He labored incessantly to convince his people that it was the truth, not violence, that would
make them free. He struggled valiantly to stop the bloody confrontations between his people and the
British military power. He struggled valiantly to stop the bloody religious conflict between the Hindu
majority (of which he himself was a member) and the Moslem minority. He struggled valiantly to heal
and to reconcile through non-violence. He did not submit passively to injustice. Day in and day out, he
denounced it. But always he confronted the unjust in love. Not the sword, but love was his weapon.
In the motion picture "Gandhi," there is a moving scene at Ghandi's bedside where he lays nearly dead
from fasting. He had undertaken the fast in part as a protest against the civil war between the Hindus
and the Moslems, which was growing in intensity. He had said that he would fast until it killed him
unless the fighting stopped. Reports begin to drift in that the violence is subsiding. His closest friends
encourage him to stop the fast, but Gandhi refuses. He says he would end the fast only when he is
convinced that all the violence is ended. As the scene unfolds, one of the Hindu fighters rushes into
Gandhi's room. He throws a piece of bread on the bed. His voice is filled with anguish as he cries out,
"Eat! Eat! I am going to hell." Gandhi replies softly, "Only God decides who is going to hell." The
distraught man says, "I killed a child. I smashed his head against a wall." "Why?" Gandhi asks gently.
Sobbing, the man answers, "They killed my son. My boy. The Moslems killed my son." To which,
Gandhi replies, "I know a way out of hell. Find a child, a child whose mother and father have been
killed. A little boy. And raise him as your own. Only be sure that he is a Moslem and that you raise
him as one."
The avenging Hindu was not "going to hell" as he told Gandhi. He already was in hell. Whenever we
refuse to let God be God, we create our own living hell. Whenever we try to exercise God's
prerogatives, we close ourselves off from the abundant life Jesus offers us. Whenever we pronounce
judgment on another in an ultimate, vengeful, unforgiving way, we have been conquered by evil.
If we get serious about following Jesus, what will people think? Will they think of us as they thought
of Jesus? Will they think we've gone bananas? Jesus has told us to be prepared for that response when
we take up our cross daily and follow Him. And Paul wrote, "We are fools for Christ ... When reviled,
we bless; when persecuted, we endure; when slandered, we try to conciliate" (1 Cor. 4:10, 12-13).
Forgive? Endure? Conciliate? "Don't be a fool!" people will say.
"Don't be a fool, Gandhi!" Immediately after Gandhi has given the avenging Hindu his way out of hell,
the scene shifts. Gandhi has left his bed of fasting and is once more out among the people. And as the
crowd presses in upon him, he is killed by an assassin's bullet.
"Don't be a fool, Jesus!" Live up to our expectations. You've got charisma. We can strike down our
enemies with You as our leader." But Jesus makes it clear that the Father has a better idea. And in the
closing scene of His life, Jesus shows us the way out of our living hell: "Father, forgive them" (Lk.
23:34). Our calling is to partake in the madness of a compassionate, reconciling, forgiving heart. Jesus
has given the world the way out of its living hell. Follow Him!
God Bless you all!
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
5th sunday of lent C
A thief picked a man's pocket on a crowded elevator. As the result of quick police action, he was
arrested and brought before the local judge. "You are charged with stealing another person's
wallet," said the judge. "How do you plead: guilty or not guilty?" To which the pickpocket
replied, "How can I tell, your honor, until I have heard the evidence."
In today's Gospel, a woman accused of adultery is not asked to plead "guilty" or "not guilty."
The evidence is already in. She was caught in the act and, according to the law, the punishment is
death, by stoning. The religious leaders handling the case bring the woman to Jesus.
Jesus had spent the night in prayer on the Mount of Olives. Now, at dawn, He has returned to the
Temple. People have gathered around Him to hear Him speak, and the scribes and Pharisees see the
accused woman's situation as an opportunity to discredit Him. In full view of the crowd they lay their
trap. "Teacher," they say, "This woman has been caught in the act of adultery. Now in the law Moses
commanded us to stone such. What do you say about her?" (John 8:4-5). It is a "no-win" situation for
Jesus -- or so it seems. If He approves of the punishment of stoning the woman to death, the people
will regard it as a contradiction of His message of mercy and compassion. If He disapproves, He will
be in opposition to the law and could be prosecuted as a religious agitator. Either way, Jesus will
suffer humiliation, or even worse.
As the crowd presses Him for His answer, Jesus says: "Let him who is without sin among you be the
first to throw a stone at her" (John 8:7). And "when they heard it, they went away, one by one...and
Jesus was left alone with the woman standing before Him" (John 8:9). "Where are they?" Jesus asks.
"Has no one condemned you." "No one, Lord," the woman replies. "Neither do I condemn you," Jesus
answers. "Go, and do not sin again" (John 8:10-1).
For most of us, I think, that New Testament episode has great appeal. We want to sing Jesus' praises,
and rightly so, for befriending that helpless woman. We want to sing Jesus' praises, and rightly so, for
telling her to go and sin no more. We want to sing Jesus' praises, and rightly so, for foiling the attempt
to discredit Him. We want to sing Jesus' praises, and rightly so, for teaching those self-righteous
scribes and Pharisees a good lesson. But our songs of praise will have a hollow ring if we fail to apply
this lesson in spiritual growth to ourselves.
In a "Peanuts" cartoon, Charlie Brown says to Linus: "Perhaps you can give me an answer, Linus.
What would you do if you felt that no one liked you?" Linus replies, "I'd try to look at myself
objectively, and see what I could do to improve. That's my answer Charlie Brown." To which Charlie
replies, "I hate that answer!"
"Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her." Jesus was telling the selfrighteous
religious leaders to look at themselves objectively and see what they could do to improve.
And they hated that answer. Now, Jesus is telling each one of us to look at ourselves objectively and
see what we can do to improve. And we hate that answer! Like those scribes and Pharisees in the
Gospel Lesson, we know others who need to better themselves, but we really hate to admit our own
need for spiritual growth. Psychiatrist M. Scott Peck, whose books sell in the millions, puts it this
way:
If we cannot see and confess our need for growth and change, then we have no option but to eliminate
the evidence pointing to our imperfections...strangely enough, people are often destructive because
they are attempting to destroy evil. The problem is they misplace the locus of evil. Instead of
destroying others they should be destroying the sickness within themselves.1
Just outside a small town in Maine, there is a road sign with six arrows on it pointing the way to six
other towns. From top to bottom, the sign reads,
Freedom - 45 miles
Liberty - 33 miles
Harmony - 96 miles
Unity - 52 miles
Union - 20 miles
Hope - 27 miles
Six marvelously-named towns within easy driving distance of each other. Remarkable! But what is
even more remarkable is that the road sign is located on the edge of a town called Friendship!
What a beautiful life-pattern we can construct from the names of those seven towns:
Freedom -- Look at yourself objectively, for evidence of self-centeredness and egoism and pride.
Then begin to make a sincere, conscious effort to free yourself from that burden.
Liberty -- Look at yourself objectively, for evidence of self-righteousness. Then begin to make a
sincere, conscious effort to liberate yourself from the burden of judging other people's motives and
actions, and of controlling and manipulating other people's lives.
Harmony -- Look at yourself objectively for evidence of areas in your life that are burdened with
hostility and alienation and unforgiveness. Then begin to make a sincere, conscious effort to eliminate
all that discord and, in the Apostle Paul's words, to "put on love, which binds everything into perfect
harmony" (Col. 3:14).
Union -- Look at yourself objectively, as a child of God, for evidence of estrangement from your
loving Father. Then begin to make a sincere, conscious effort to heal that separation and to once again
experience the intimacy of the Father's presence.
Unity -- Look at yourself objectively for evidence of divisiveness. Then begin to make a sincere,
conscious effort to be a living answer to Jesus' great prayer for unity: "...that they all may be one; even
as Thou, Father, art in Me, and I in Thee, that they may also be in Us...The glory which Thou hast
given Me I have given them, that they may be one even as We are one" (Jn. 17:21,22).
Hope -- Look at yourself objectively for evidence of gloom and doom. Then begin to make a sincere,
conscious effort to always and everywhere rejoice in God's promise of eternal life.
Freedom, Liberty, Harmony, Unity, Union, Hope -- six stops on the road to Friendship. Six steps
toward genuine friendship with Jesus Christ and with our brothers and sisters everywhere. Six inward
looks based on clear and convincing evidence of our need for spiritual growth.
"Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her." Notice, Jesus didn't
command the scribes and Pharisees to befriend the helpless woman. From where they were coming,
spiritually, they were incapable of treating her with friendship and compassion. Instead, Jesus told
them to take an honest, inward look at themselves. In order to be capable of genuine friendship they
needed first to confront the evidence and acknowledge their need for spiritual growth.
"You are my friends if you do what I command you," Jesus said to His disciples (John 15:14). "This is
My commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you" (John 15:12).
arrested and brought before the local judge. "You are charged with stealing another person's
wallet," said the judge. "How do you plead: guilty or not guilty?" To which the pickpocket
replied, "How can I tell, your honor, until I have heard the evidence."
In today's Gospel, a woman accused of adultery is not asked to plead "guilty" or "not guilty."
The evidence is already in. She was caught in the act and, according to the law, the punishment is
death, by stoning. The religious leaders handling the case bring the woman to Jesus.
Jesus had spent the night in prayer on the Mount of Olives. Now, at dawn, He has returned to the
Temple. People have gathered around Him to hear Him speak, and the scribes and Pharisees see the
accused woman's situation as an opportunity to discredit Him. In full view of the crowd they lay their
trap. "Teacher," they say, "This woman has been caught in the act of adultery. Now in the law Moses
commanded us to stone such. What do you say about her?" (John 8:4-5). It is a "no-win" situation for
Jesus -- or so it seems. If He approves of the punishment of stoning the woman to death, the people
will regard it as a contradiction of His message of mercy and compassion. If He disapproves, He will
be in opposition to the law and could be prosecuted as a religious agitator. Either way, Jesus will
suffer humiliation, or even worse.
As the crowd presses Him for His answer, Jesus says: "Let him who is without sin among you be the
first to throw a stone at her" (John 8:7). And "when they heard it, they went away, one by one...and
Jesus was left alone with the woman standing before Him" (John 8:9). "Where are they?" Jesus asks.
"Has no one condemned you." "No one, Lord," the woman replies. "Neither do I condemn you," Jesus
answers. "Go, and do not sin again" (John 8:10-1).
For most of us, I think, that New Testament episode has great appeal. We want to sing Jesus' praises,
and rightly so, for befriending that helpless woman. We want to sing Jesus' praises, and rightly so, for
telling her to go and sin no more. We want to sing Jesus' praises, and rightly so, for foiling the attempt
to discredit Him. We want to sing Jesus' praises, and rightly so, for teaching those self-righteous
scribes and Pharisees a good lesson. But our songs of praise will have a hollow ring if we fail to apply
this lesson in spiritual growth to ourselves.
In a "Peanuts" cartoon, Charlie Brown says to Linus: "Perhaps you can give me an answer, Linus.
What would you do if you felt that no one liked you?" Linus replies, "I'd try to look at myself
objectively, and see what I could do to improve. That's my answer Charlie Brown." To which Charlie
replies, "I hate that answer!"
"Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her." Jesus was telling the selfrighteous
religious leaders to look at themselves objectively and see what they could do to improve.
And they hated that answer. Now, Jesus is telling each one of us to look at ourselves objectively and
see what we can do to improve. And we hate that answer! Like those scribes and Pharisees in the
Gospel Lesson, we know others who need to better themselves, but we really hate to admit our own
need for spiritual growth. Psychiatrist M. Scott Peck, whose books sell in the millions, puts it this
way:
If we cannot see and confess our need for growth and change, then we have no option but to eliminate
the evidence pointing to our imperfections...strangely enough, people are often destructive because
they are attempting to destroy evil. The problem is they misplace the locus of evil. Instead of
destroying others they should be destroying the sickness within themselves.1
Just outside a small town in Maine, there is a road sign with six arrows on it pointing the way to six
other towns. From top to bottom, the sign reads,
Freedom - 45 miles
Liberty - 33 miles
Harmony - 96 miles
Unity - 52 miles
Union - 20 miles
Hope - 27 miles
Six marvelously-named towns within easy driving distance of each other. Remarkable! But what is
even more remarkable is that the road sign is located on the edge of a town called Friendship!
What a beautiful life-pattern we can construct from the names of those seven towns:
Freedom -- Look at yourself objectively, for evidence of self-centeredness and egoism and pride.
Then begin to make a sincere, conscious effort to free yourself from that burden.
Liberty -- Look at yourself objectively, for evidence of self-righteousness. Then begin to make a
sincere, conscious effort to liberate yourself from the burden of judging other people's motives and
actions, and of controlling and manipulating other people's lives.
Harmony -- Look at yourself objectively for evidence of areas in your life that are burdened with
hostility and alienation and unforgiveness. Then begin to make a sincere, conscious effort to eliminate
all that discord and, in the Apostle Paul's words, to "put on love, which binds everything into perfect
harmony" (Col. 3:14).
Union -- Look at yourself objectively, as a child of God, for evidence of estrangement from your
loving Father. Then begin to make a sincere, conscious effort to heal that separation and to once again
experience the intimacy of the Father's presence.
Unity -- Look at yourself objectively for evidence of divisiveness. Then begin to make a sincere,
conscious effort to be a living answer to Jesus' great prayer for unity: "...that they all may be one; even
as Thou, Father, art in Me, and I in Thee, that they may also be in Us...The glory which Thou hast
given Me I have given them, that they may be one even as We are one" (Jn. 17:21,22).
Hope -- Look at yourself objectively for evidence of gloom and doom. Then begin to make a sincere,
conscious effort to always and everywhere rejoice in God's promise of eternal life.
Freedom, Liberty, Harmony, Unity, Union, Hope -- six stops on the road to Friendship. Six steps
toward genuine friendship with Jesus Christ and with our brothers and sisters everywhere. Six inward
looks based on clear and convincing evidence of our need for spiritual growth.
"Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her." Notice, Jesus didn't
command the scribes and Pharisees to befriend the helpless woman. From where they were coming,
spiritually, they were incapable of treating her with friendship and compassion. Instead, Jesus told
them to take an honest, inward look at themselves. In order to be capable of genuine friendship they
needed first to confront the evidence and acknowledge their need for spiritual growth.
"You are my friends if you do what I command you," Jesus said to His disciples (John 15:14). "This is
My commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you" (John 15:12).
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
4th sunday of lent C- Fr Nony its Jesus speaks!
In today's Gospel, Jesus continues to evoke harsh criticism from the religious leaders. "If it be true that this Jesus speaks for God, as He claims, He wouldn't act this way," they reason. "This man receives sinners. This man sits down at table and eats with sinners. Instead of scorning them, He comforts them. Instead of rejecting them with a show of righteous indignation, He actually welcomes them into His company."
Jesus responds by telling them a parable. Actually, He tells them two parables: "The Parable of the Lost Sheep" and "The Parable of the Prodigal Son". In so doing, Jesus gives the self-righteous Pharisees and scribes a lesson in Divine Hospitality.
A popular comedian has a routine in which he recalls his adolescent years. "When I was a teenager," he says, "I lived in a tough neighborhood. We used to play "cops and robbers" with real cops. And when I ran away from home, my father sent me a telegram which read, "Don't return and all is forgiven." The comedian doesn't reveal what prompted his father to send that message. But one thing is sure: it wasn't prompted by the lesson in hospitality Jesus teaches in the Parable of the Prodigal Son.
You know the story: a self-indulgent playboy wastes his life and his share of his father's fortune on loose living. Like the people Jesus befriends in today's Gospel, he is a big sinner. Eventually,
he hits rock bottom. He has no friends. He is destitute. He doesn't know where his next meal is coming from. Then he takes an honest inward look at himself -- where he's been and what he's done.
"He came to himself," Luke tells us. That means he regrets his sordid, sinful past. That means he wants to change all that. That means he intends to reform. In Biblical language, he repents. And that means he wants to go home -- to his father's house. He tells himself, "I will say to him, 'Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son'" (Luke 15:18-19).
Then he sets off for home. While he is still some distance away, his father sees him. The father could send one of his servants out with a message: "Don't come home and all is forgiven." He could go to his study to think things out and decide on a course of action. He could ignore the boy's presence, give him the cold shoulder. He could take the boy aside and lecture him -- give him a real tongue-lashing and mete out some severe punishment.
But the father does none of these things. Instead, he receives his son warmly and lovingly. The father has "compassion," Jesus says. He runs to greet his son. He embraces him and kisses him. He gives him the best robe to wear. He presents him with a new ring for his hand, and shoes for his feet. Then he organizes a party to celebrate the boy's return. "This my son was dead, and is alive again," the father exclaims. "He was lost, and is found." Then the party begins. In Jesus' words, "They begin to make merry." Thus, the father offers his wayward son the ultimate in hospitality.
To speak of the relationship between parents and children in terms of hospitality may sound strange. But to do so is to speak in Christian terms. Fathers and mothers, sons and daughters, all are children of God, all share a common humanity. Children are not properties to be possessed and ruled over. Children are gifts to be cherished and cared for. In the Christian view, children carry a promise with them -- a hidden treasure which parents, as God's stewards, must lead into the open through education and example in a hospitable home. In the words of the Apostle Paul, ...if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has passed away, behold, the new has come. All this is from God, who through Christ reconciled us to Himself and gave us the ministry of reconciliation; that is, in Christ God was reconciling the world to Himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting to us the message of reconciliation. So we are ambassadors for Christ (II Corinthians 5:17-19). Reconcilers! Ambassadors for Christ! Not alienation, but reconciliation. Not hostility, but hospitality!
The story is told of a certain priest who was puzzled by a shabby old man who went into his church at noon every day and came out again almost immediately. What could he be doing? The priest decided to question the old man. "I go to pray," the old man said. "Come now," said the priest, "you are never in the church long enough to pray." To which the old man replied, "Well, you see, I don't try to pray a long prayer every day at twelve o'clock. I just go into church and say, 'Jesus, it's Ted.' It's just a little prayer, but I guess He hears me."
Sometime later, Ted was injured and taken to a hospital. There, he had a wonderful influence on the entire ward. Grumbling patients became cheerful, and often the ward would ring with laughter. One day, the supervising nurse said to Ted, "The other patients say that you are responsible for the remarkable change in this ward. They say that you are always cheerful." "Yes I am," Ted replied. "You see I can't help being cheerful. It's my visitor." The nurse was puzzled. She knew that Ted's chair was always empty, for he had no relatives. "When does your visitor come?" the nurse asked. "Every day," Ted answered. "Every day at noon He comes and stands at my bedside for a few seconds. I see Him and He smiles at me and says, 'Ted, it's Jesus.'"
"America's families are in deep trouble, trouble so deep and pervasive as to threaten the future of our nation..." So began an article in Time Magazine. The Time article described the alarming decline of the institution we call "family." One in four marriages ends in divorce, and the rate is climbing. At a "White House Conference on Children," a distinguished Harvard University professor paralleled the situation described in Time with the deterioration of family life in ancient Greece and Rome which led to the collapse of those civilizations. Delegates to the Conference were reminded that "No society has ever survived after its family life has deteriorated."
A father of four expressed his feelings on the subject in more intimate, non-academic terms. He said: A remarkable thing happened last night. A meeting I was supposed to attend was cancelled, and for the first time in weeks I stayed home. I made an extraordinary discovery. It was marvelous, playing with my children, listening to the radio, watching TV. I even did some reading, had a nice talk with my wife and fell asleep in my favorite easy chair. I relearned something I had forgotten, and I'm going to change my way of life. I am applying for readmittance into the organization known as Home.
Before leaving church today, close your eyes for a second or two and simply say, "Jesus, it's Jim" (or Ted or Helen or Jean or Arnel or Liam). Then, when you return home, again close your eyes for a second or two and listen: "Jim, it's Jesus...Ted, it's Jesus...Helen, it's Jesus...Jean, Arnel, Liam, it's Jesus." Greet Him with honor and respect. Receive Him with a heart that is completely open. Extend to Him the ultimate in hospitality and He will bestow on you the rank of Ambassador. Offer Him your unconditional love and He will empower you to carry out a ministry of reconciliation -- to your children, to your parents, to your brothers and sisters everywhere.
"And he arose and came to his father. But while he was yet at a distance, his father saw him and had compassion, and ran and embraced him and kissed him." Not alienation, but reconciliation! Not hostility, but hospitality. And it all begins at home!
Jesus responds by telling them a parable. Actually, He tells them two parables: "The Parable of the Lost Sheep" and "The Parable of the Prodigal Son". In so doing, Jesus gives the self-righteous Pharisees and scribes a lesson in Divine Hospitality.
A popular comedian has a routine in which he recalls his adolescent years. "When I was a teenager," he says, "I lived in a tough neighborhood. We used to play "cops and robbers" with real cops. And when I ran away from home, my father sent me a telegram which read, "Don't return and all is forgiven." The comedian doesn't reveal what prompted his father to send that message. But one thing is sure: it wasn't prompted by the lesson in hospitality Jesus teaches in the Parable of the Prodigal Son.
You know the story: a self-indulgent playboy wastes his life and his share of his father's fortune on loose living. Like the people Jesus befriends in today's Gospel, he is a big sinner. Eventually,
he hits rock bottom. He has no friends. He is destitute. He doesn't know where his next meal is coming from. Then he takes an honest inward look at himself -- where he's been and what he's done.
"He came to himself," Luke tells us. That means he regrets his sordid, sinful past. That means he wants to change all that. That means he intends to reform. In Biblical language, he repents. And that means he wants to go home -- to his father's house. He tells himself, "I will say to him, 'Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son'" (Luke 15:18-19).
Then he sets off for home. While he is still some distance away, his father sees him. The father could send one of his servants out with a message: "Don't come home and all is forgiven." He could go to his study to think things out and decide on a course of action. He could ignore the boy's presence, give him the cold shoulder. He could take the boy aside and lecture him -- give him a real tongue-lashing and mete out some severe punishment.
But the father does none of these things. Instead, he receives his son warmly and lovingly. The father has "compassion," Jesus says. He runs to greet his son. He embraces him and kisses him. He gives him the best robe to wear. He presents him with a new ring for his hand, and shoes for his feet. Then he organizes a party to celebrate the boy's return. "This my son was dead, and is alive again," the father exclaims. "He was lost, and is found." Then the party begins. In Jesus' words, "They begin to make merry." Thus, the father offers his wayward son the ultimate in hospitality.
To speak of the relationship between parents and children in terms of hospitality may sound strange. But to do so is to speak in Christian terms. Fathers and mothers, sons and daughters, all are children of God, all share a common humanity. Children are not properties to be possessed and ruled over. Children are gifts to be cherished and cared for. In the Christian view, children carry a promise with them -- a hidden treasure which parents, as God's stewards, must lead into the open through education and example in a hospitable home. In the words of the Apostle Paul, ...if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has passed away, behold, the new has come. All this is from God, who through Christ reconciled us to Himself and gave us the ministry of reconciliation; that is, in Christ God was reconciling the world to Himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting to us the message of reconciliation. So we are ambassadors for Christ (II Corinthians 5:17-19). Reconcilers! Ambassadors for Christ! Not alienation, but reconciliation. Not hostility, but hospitality!
The story is told of a certain priest who was puzzled by a shabby old man who went into his church at noon every day and came out again almost immediately. What could he be doing? The priest decided to question the old man. "I go to pray," the old man said. "Come now," said the priest, "you are never in the church long enough to pray." To which the old man replied, "Well, you see, I don't try to pray a long prayer every day at twelve o'clock. I just go into church and say, 'Jesus, it's Ted.' It's just a little prayer, but I guess He hears me."
Sometime later, Ted was injured and taken to a hospital. There, he had a wonderful influence on the entire ward. Grumbling patients became cheerful, and often the ward would ring with laughter. One day, the supervising nurse said to Ted, "The other patients say that you are responsible for the remarkable change in this ward. They say that you are always cheerful." "Yes I am," Ted replied. "You see I can't help being cheerful. It's my visitor." The nurse was puzzled. She knew that Ted's chair was always empty, for he had no relatives. "When does your visitor come?" the nurse asked. "Every day," Ted answered. "Every day at noon He comes and stands at my bedside for a few seconds. I see Him and He smiles at me and says, 'Ted, it's Jesus.'"
"America's families are in deep trouble, trouble so deep and pervasive as to threaten the future of our nation..." So began an article in Time Magazine. The Time article described the alarming decline of the institution we call "family." One in four marriages ends in divorce, and the rate is climbing. At a "White House Conference on Children," a distinguished Harvard University professor paralleled the situation described in Time with the deterioration of family life in ancient Greece and Rome which led to the collapse of those civilizations. Delegates to the Conference were reminded that "No society has ever survived after its family life has deteriorated."
A father of four expressed his feelings on the subject in more intimate, non-academic terms. He said: A remarkable thing happened last night. A meeting I was supposed to attend was cancelled, and for the first time in weeks I stayed home. I made an extraordinary discovery. It was marvelous, playing with my children, listening to the radio, watching TV. I even did some reading, had a nice talk with my wife and fell asleep in my favorite easy chair. I relearned something I had forgotten, and I'm going to change my way of life. I am applying for readmittance into the organization known as Home.
Before leaving church today, close your eyes for a second or two and simply say, "Jesus, it's Jim" (or Ted or Helen or Jean or Arnel or Liam). Then, when you return home, again close your eyes for a second or two and listen: "Jim, it's Jesus...Ted, it's Jesus...Helen, it's Jesus...Jean, Arnel, Liam, it's Jesus." Greet Him with honor and respect. Receive Him with a heart that is completely open. Extend to Him the ultimate in hospitality and He will bestow on you the rank of Ambassador. Offer Him your unconditional love and He will empower you to carry out a ministry of reconciliation -- to your children, to your parents, to your brothers and sisters everywhere.
"And he arose and came to his father. But while he was yet at a distance, his father saw him and had compassion, and ran and embraced him and kissed him." Not alienation, but reconciliation! Not hostility, but hospitality. And it all begins at home!
4th sunday of lent C- prodigal son
A group of well-intentioned people met to discuss ways and means of helping a friend who had been down on his luck recently. Knowing him to be an extremely proud person who would not accept money, they decided to arrange a bogus raffle. They told him that they would all draw numbered slips of paper from a hat, and the person who drew the number four would win $200. They did not tell him that the number "four" was on every slip. After the drawing, each of the conspirators glanced at their slips and crumbled them up in the manner of disappointed losers. Then they waited to hear their friend announce that he had drawn the winning number. But he did not speak. Finally, one number of the group asked him, knowingly, "What number did you draw?" "Six and seven-eights," he replied, holding up the hat's size tag.
That is a fairly good example of a man who is really down on his luck. But, in today's Gospel, Jesus gives us an even better one about a wealthy young man who leaves the comfort of his father's house to strike out on his own. The misguided, inexperienced youth and his fortune are soon parted. He is in a distant, famine-plagued land, and penniless. The only employment he can find is caring for pigs.
Then he discovers that they are eating better than he is. In Jesus' words, "He longed to fill his belly with the husks that were fodder for the pigs, but no one made a move to give him anything" (Luke 15:16). He was lonely. He was without resources. He was starving. There was no one to offer him a helping hand. He was really down on his luck. And it was in that state of utter desolation that he came "to his senses," as the Bible puts it. In the spirit of repentance, he acknowledges the urgent need for him to radically change his attitude and approach to life. And he sets off on the long journey back to his father's house. "While he was still a long way off, his father caught sight of him and was deeply moved. He ran out to meet him, threw his arms around his neck, and kissed him" (Luke 15:20).
Humbly and contritely, the son responds: "Father, I have sinned against God and against you; I no longer deserve to be called your son"(Luke 15:21). Whereupon, the joyful father begins to make preparations for a party to celebrate the boy's return.
Enter the villain in the piece--the boy's older brother. He envies his errant brother because he was so warmly received by their father. He is critical of the father's joyous, no-questions-asked response to his brother's return. Consequently, he responds in anger to his father's earnest plea that he join in the celebration. He will not accept his father's act of unconditional forgiveness and mercy toward his brother.
Many years ago, executives of the Time-Life publishing organization discovered that the company's profit-margin had shrunk to an alarmingly low level. Consequently, they began an intensive effort to try to cut costs. Efficiency experts suggested that substantial savings could be effected in the renewal department. There, 350 persons worked full time sending heartbreaking pleas to readers whose subscriptions were about to expire. (For example, "Will you dare face your children without "Time" magazine on your coffee table?") In any case, enormous quantities of these letters were being prepared manually. It was calculated that if a machine could be found to replace the manual labor, millions in overhead would be saved. In due course, IBM came to the rescue with an enormous computer, delivered to Time-Life in a blaze of kleig lights and fanfare. Then the new system was installed.
The name of each subscriber was put on a separate little plate and run through the vast machine. Whenever a nameplate came along that was within six weeks of expiration, a series of dots and dashes at the top of the tab triggered an electronic impulse which caused it to drop into a slot. The name was then affixed to one of the "heartbreaking" letters which was then folded, stuffed into an envelope, labeled, stamped, and dropped down a chute to the basement where a United States Branch Post Office was set up--all without a single human hand touching the operation. The system worked flawlessly for a while, until that fateful, hot, humid, sticky day in New York City when one of the nameplates stuck in the machine.
A few days later a lone sheepherder in Montana received 12,634 tearjerking letters asking him to subscribe to "Life" magazine. The sheepherder, who hadn't received a letter in years, took his knife, carefully slit open one of the mailbags and began reading his mail. Three weeks later, red-eyed, weary and up to his hips in 12,634 opened pieces of mail, he made out a check for $6.00, filled out a subscription coupon and sent it to the President of Time-Life personally, with the following note: "I give up!"
That is a story to remember when you get to wondering about the limits of God's mercy. You don't have to plead or beg for it. You don't have to ask Him 12,634 or 1,000 or 100 times for it. You don't have to ask him even once for it. God's mercy is always there, always being offered, always present to you. God already has said, "I give up": I love you; I forgive you. His forgiveness does not depend on whether or not you ask for it. There is nothing you can do to change who God is or God's attitude toward you. Any change in your relationship with God necessarily takes place in you. Your plea for mercy and forgiveness, therefore, represents your acknowledgement of God's mercy, your acceptance of His forgiveness.
The New Testament revelation of a gracious, understanding, merciful forgiving God, is meant to change your attitude toward God and His creation, not God's attitude toward you.
A Sunday-school teacher had a dream about the Lord Jesus. "Where are the souls of My children?" Jesus asked. "Here are their manners, the teacher replied. "They are well-behaved children; they listen respectfully to everything I say." Whereupon, Jesus took the children's manners in His hands and turned them into dust. "Where are My children's souls?" Jesus asked again. "Here are their bodies," the teacher offered. "They come to religion class promptly every week." Jesus took the bodies into His hands and turned them into dust. Again, He asked, "Where are My children's souls?" I can give you their brains," said the teacher. "They have memorized the list of books in the Bible; they know the names of the major and minor prophets; they can recite verbatim the Sermon on the Mount." Jesus took their brains in His hands and turned them into dust. "But where are the souls of My children," He asked sorrowfully. With that, the teacher awakened and, in an agonized voice, cried out: "I thought I had done much for my children, but it was all for nothing because I have not done the one thing needful. Hereafter, the only goal of my teaching shall be to communicate the incredible Good News of a Merciful, forgiving God who loves all His children and will never abandon them, even one of them."
If, like the older brother in the Parable of the Prodigal Son, we should call the wisdom of our Father's mercy into question, we have lost our way on the heavenly journey toward fulfillment. God's mercy is never withdrawn. It is yours to acknowledge and accept, whether you are riding high or you are down on your luck. In either case, you need it.
That is a fairly good example of a man who is really down on his luck. But, in today's Gospel, Jesus gives us an even better one about a wealthy young man who leaves the comfort of his father's house to strike out on his own. The misguided, inexperienced youth and his fortune are soon parted. He is in a distant, famine-plagued land, and penniless. The only employment he can find is caring for pigs.
Then he discovers that they are eating better than he is. In Jesus' words, "He longed to fill his belly with the husks that were fodder for the pigs, but no one made a move to give him anything" (Luke 15:16). He was lonely. He was without resources. He was starving. There was no one to offer him a helping hand. He was really down on his luck. And it was in that state of utter desolation that he came "to his senses," as the Bible puts it. In the spirit of repentance, he acknowledges the urgent need for him to radically change his attitude and approach to life. And he sets off on the long journey back to his father's house. "While he was still a long way off, his father caught sight of him and was deeply moved. He ran out to meet him, threw his arms around his neck, and kissed him" (Luke 15:20).
Humbly and contritely, the son responds: "Father, I have sinned against God and against you; I no longer deserve to be called your son"(Luke 15:21). Whereupon, the joyful father begins to make preparations for a party to celebrate the boy's return.
Enter the villain in the piece--the boy's older brother. He envies his errant brother because he was so warmly received by their father. He is critical of the father's joyous, no-questions-asked response to his brother's return. Consequently, he responds in anger to his father's earnest plea that he join in the celebration. He will not accept his father's act of unconditional forgiveness and mercy toward his brother.
Many years ago, executives of the Time-Life publishing organization discovered that the company's profit-margin had shrunk to an alarmingly low level. Consequently, they began an intensive effort to try to cut costs. Efficiency experts suggested that substantial savings could be effected in the renewal department. There, 350 persons worked full time sending heartbreaking pleas to readers whose subscriptions were about to expire. (For example, "Will you dare face your children without "Time" magazine on your coffee table?") In any case, enormous quantities of these letters were being prepared manually. It was calculated that if a machine could be found to replace the manual labor, millions in overhead would be saved. In due course, IBM came to the rescue with an enormous computer, delivered to Time-Life in a blaze of kleig lights and fanfare. Then the new system was installed.
The name of each subscriber was put on a separate little plate and run through the vast machine. Whenever a nameplate came along that was within six weeks of expiration, a series of dots and dashes at the top of the tab triggered an electronic impulse which caused it to drop into a slot. The name was then affixed to one of the "heartbreaking" letters which was then folded, stuffed into an envelope, labeled, stamped, and dropped down a chute to the basement where a United States Branch Post Office was set up--all without a single human hand touching the operation. The system worked flawlessly for a while, until that fateful, hot, humid, sticky day in New York City when one of the nameplates stuck in the machine.
A few days later a lone sheepherder in Montana received 12,634 tearjerking letters asking him to subscribe to "Life" magazine. The sheepherder, who hadn't received a letter in years, took his knife, carefully slit open one of the mailbags and began reading his mail. Three weeks later, red-eyed, weary and up to his hips in 12,634 opened pieces of mail, he made out a check for $6.00, filled out a subscription coupon and sent it to the President of Time-Life personally, with the following note: "I give up!"
That is a story to remember when you get to wondering about the limits of God's mercy. You don't have to plead or beg for it. You don't have to ask Him 12,634 or 1,000 or 100 times for it. You don't have to ask him even once for it. God's mercy is always there, always being offered, always present to you. God already has said, "I give up": I love you; I forgive you. His forgiveness does not depend on whether or not you ask for it. There is nothing you can do to change who God is or God's attitude toward you. Any change in your relationship with God necessarily takes place in you. Your plea for mercy and forgiveness, therefore, represents your acknowledgement of God's mercy, your acceptance of His forgiveness.
The New Testament revelation of a gracious, understanding, merciful forgiving God, is meant to change your attitude toward God and His creation, not God's attitude toward you.
A Sunday-school teacher had a dream about the Lord Jesus. "Where are the souls of My children?" Jesus asked. "Here are their manners, the teacher replied. "They are well-behaved children; they listen respectfully to everything I say." Whereupon, Jesus took the children's manners in His hands and turned them into dust. "Where are My children's souls?" Jesus asked again. "Here are their bodies," the teacher offered. "They come to religion class promptly every week." Jesus took the bodies into His hands and turned them into dust. Again, He asked, "Where are My children's souls?" I can give you their brains," said the teacher. "They have memorized the list of books in the Bible; they know the names of the major and minor prophets; they can recite verbatim the Sermon on the Mount." Jesus took their brains in His hands and turned them into dust. "But where are the souls of My children," He asked sorrowfully. With that, the teacher awakened and, in an agonized voice, cried out: "I thought I had done much for my children, but it was all for nothing because I have not done the one thing needful. Hereafter, the only goal of my teaching shall be to communicate the incredible Good News of a Merciful, forgiving God who loves all His children and will never abandon them, even one of them."
If, like the older brother in the Parable of the Prodigal Son, we should call the wisdom of our Father's mercy into question, we have lost our way on the heavenly journey toward fulfillment. God's mercy is never withdrawn. It is yours to acknowledge and accept, whether you are riding high or you are down on your luck. In either case, you need it.
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