Tag Archives: humility

Christmas, 2016

25 Sunday Dec 2016

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birth-of-jesusCaesar demanded a census and the whole world was in motion and turmoil.  People and families around the empire travelling to their own town.  The emperor had spoken and therefore it had to be! 

Joseph and Mary – humble, poor, obedient to authority – travel to Bethlehem, even with Mary near child-birth.  They register for the census but the gospel does not specify one thing; did they register before the birth of Christ or after?  Did their census notation say, “one Jewish couple expecting a child” or “one Jewish couple with newborn male”?  I tend to believe that Joseph and Mary registered with the census before the birth of Jesus because it would be consistent with God’s way of working throughout scripture.

Let the powers of the world flex their muscle and show all their strength.  Peoples need to travel, life needs to be interrupted, Caesar Augustus wants a census!  God laughs.  God comes silently and humbly amidst all the turmoil of the time.  God even uses the great emperor’s project to accomplish His plan.  Who today remembers the census that Caesar ordered?  Yet all time and history celebrates the birth of the son of Mary.  Christ coming after the census is fulfilled demonstrates who is really the Lord of history.

Caesar in the exercise of his power and might through the census was trying to grasp and claim the entire empire.  “These … all these lands and peoples … are mine!” is what Caesar was saying through his census.  Christ being born after the census shows that he does not belong to the power of Caesar nor to any worldly-power yesterday or today.  Jesus will not go down in history as a small notation in a Roman emperor’s census, rather he will be revealed as the very one who ushers in God’s Kingdom to which all the kingdoms and powers of the world must submit. 

The Word of God enters the world unexpectedly.  Information is power.  A census – a measurement of peoples – gives information and therefore it gives the emperor great power and control.  Yet right beyond the boundary of Caesar’s knowledge occurs the greatest event in all of human history and Caesar misses it.  Caesar has no knowledge of it.  The first ones who do come to know of it?  Not Caesar but rather the lowly shepherds – the poor and the insignificant ones in the eyes of the world.  It is to them that the angel appears and tells of this new thing that God has done!  “Do not be afraid; for behold, I proclaim to you good news of great joy that will be for all people … a savior has been born for you who is Christ and Lord.”  (Lk. 2:10-11)  It is not abstract and isolated ideologies and theologies cut off from everyday reality that grasp the ever-new work of God, rather it is simple people of faith – the poor and the humble.

The lessons of Christmas are so profound and so necessary.  Despite the turmoil of any age and the raw exercising of power, God is at work accomplishing his plan.  This babe born in Bethlehem is the one to whom all knees must bend and all hearts must bow and when we can do that, then peace and joy will be found!  In Christ, knowledge comes humbly – knowledge for the pains of our world and the pains of our hearts.  Abstract and isolated ideologies quickly become cold, hard and dictatorial.  This is not God’s way.  God reveals himself to the poor and the humble and God chooses to abide with them. 

Lord Jesus, we welcome you.  Heal our world.  Soften our hearts.  Help us to know the newness of your peace.  You are Wonder-Counselor, God-Hero, Father-Forever and Prince of Peace.  Lord Jesus, you choose to be born in your time and in your way.  May we be humble and poor enough to recognize you when you come to us.

Thank you Jesus for loving us.           

Knowing who we are and knowing who God is.

22 Saturday Oct 2016

Posted by in homily; mercy, Uncategorized

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pharisee-tax-collector-blogThere are two things that the Pharisee in today’s gospel (Lk. 18:9-14) did not know – two things that kept him from entering into true relationship with God.  This man, who prided himself on his religious observance and his fulfillment of his commitments in life, neither knew himself nor did he really know God.  The tax collector, on the other hand,  knew both and he went home justified.

There are two little short stories to share that can draw this out.  The first story is about an elderly, retired priest who was absolutely venerated in his small town for his kindness and holiness.  The priest was a member of the local Rotary club and he never missed a meeting.  Well, one day he did not show for the monthly meeting and he even seemed to disappear for a while.  No one knew where he was.  The next month there he was at the meeting again.  “Father, where have you been?” people asked.  “Well,” the priest responded in an embarrassed way, “I just finished serving a thirty day prison sentence.”  “What?  You wouldn’t hurt a fly!  What happened?”  “The story is complicated but to sum it up; I had bought a train ticket into the city.  I was standing on the platform when this stunningly beautiful woman appeared on the arm of a cop.  The woman looked at me and then turned to the cop and said, “He did it!  I’m certain he is the one who did it!”  Well, to tell the truth, I was so mesmerized and flattered, I pleaded guilty.”

There is a touch of vanity in the holiest men and women and they see no reason to deny it.  When we are honest we must admit that we are indeed a bundle of paradoxes: we believe and we doubt, we hope and are discouraged, we love and we hate, we are honest and we play games.  Honesty requires that we admit the dark as well as the light within ourselves (and the saints teach us how to laugh about what we find).  The Pharisee lacked this depth of honesty.  The tax collector, on the other hand, truly knew who he was – a man who had nothing to fall back on other than God’s mercy.

The second story witnesses to God and our ability to trust.  A two-story home catches on fire.  The father, mother and several children are rushing out when the smallest child becomes separated, gets frightened and rushes back upstairs.  The small child appears in a smoke-filled window crying.  The father shouts, “Jump son!  Jump!  I will catch you!”  The boy responds, “But I cannot see you!”  To which the father answers, “I know.  I know, but I can see you!”  The Pharisee, so focused on his own righteousness could not bring himself to jump.  He returns home not justified.  The tax collector, with head bowed, beating his breast, knowing himself a sinner and trusting in the goodness of God was able to jump into the mercy of God.  The tax collector returns home justified.

Thomas Merton once remarked that a saint is not someone who is good but someone who experiences the goodness of God.  Someone who knows who he or she is and who also knows who God is.

The Humble and Patient King

21 Saturday Nov 2015

Posted by in Christ, Christ the King, Christian living, Feast of Christ the King, holiness, homily, humility, Uncategorized

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jesus before pilateAt one point in his commentary on this Sunday’s Responsorial Psalm (Ps. 93), St. Augustine shares this observation: Humble people are like rock.  Rock is something you look down on, but it is solid.  What about the proud?  They are like smoke; they may be rising high, but they vanish as they rise. 

In the gospel for today’s Feast of Christ the King (Jn. 18:33b-37) we are given the humble and patient God.  Pilate (representative of all the powers of the world but powers that really have no authority of Jesus) questions Christ – a seemingly defeated and isolated man, abandoned by his friends and followers and mocked by his own people.

Pilate answered, “I am not a Jew, am I?  Your own nation and chief priests handed you over to me.  What have you done?”  Jesus answered, “My kingdom does not belong to this world.  If my kingdom did belong to this world, my attendants would be fighting to keep me from being handed over to the Jews.  But as it is, my kingdom is not here.”  So Pilate said to him, “Then you are a king?”  Jesus answered, “You say I am a king.  For this I was born and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth.  Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.”  

Today, we as Church, proclaim Christ is King yet, like Pilate, our understanding and idea of this title is often limited.  It is interesting to note on this Feast of Christ the King that our Lord, himself, never took on the title of “king”.  Even on this most final and bitter of stages; when the fallen pride of our human condition would eagerly grasp onto a title of assertion to throw back into the face of the powers of this world (how often we see this exalted on our movie screens in the myth of redemptive violence) our Lord chooses a different path.  “You say I am king.  For this I was born and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth.  Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.”

Our Lord rejects the title “king” and by so doing he forswears the fallen world and all it has to offer – self-indulgent pride, sad divisions and triumphalism and all forms of violence.  Our Lord chooses a different path – the path of humility.  “For this I was born and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth.  Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.”  

Humility has more in common with truth than does pride and power.  In fact, humility is essential if there is to be any real understanding of truth.  If we would know the truth then any temptation to put ourselves and our way of thinking at the center of creation (and these temptations come in all shapes and sizes: blue and red state, enlightened secularist and righteous religious, male and female, rich and poor, all colors of skin and shades of culture) must be put aside.  Everyone (I repeat “everyone”), needs to accept the purifying light of humility because the only constant, the only necessary is God – all else is contingent upon God’s will.  We are not necessary.  The more we realize this then the more we open ourselves to those moments when we catch a glimmer that God is indeed the “rock”, the only solid basis of all creation.  We also catch a glimpse of the infinite patience of God who submitted Himself to our illusions and misguided hatred.  Gratitude grows in our hearts when we honestly acknowledge and reflect upon the humility and patience of God.

Ours is a different type of king.  All is grace.

Do you want joy and gratitude?  Then look to the one we proclaim “king” yet who never sought that title for himself.  “For this I was born and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth.  Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.”  Cultivate humility.  Humility leads us to truth and truth brings gratitude.

Thoughts on the Sunday Readings: Transfiguration and the Cross (Second Sunday of Lent – B)

01 Sunday Mar 2015

Posted by in Christ, cross, mercy, Transfiguration

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A priest of our diocese tells the story that one day he and some friends were out driving and they were coming upon Smyrna, TN.  As they approached the city they started arguing about its correct pronunciation – was it “Smyr-na” or “Smeer-na”?  It was close to midday so they decided to ask someone when they stopped for lunch.  They came to a fast food restaurant and once inside the group went to a lady who was standing nearby.  The priest said, “Ma’am, could you please help me and my friends with a debate that we are having?  Could you, slowly and distinctly, tell us the name of the place in which we are?”  The lady gave them a quizzical look and slowly said, “Bur … ger … King.”

transfiguration_of_jesus_christIt is good to know where we are – both geographically and, for our purposes this Sunday, in the life of faith and discipleship.  Today, as we continue our journey toward Jerusalem with the Lord we are at the mount of Transfiguration but it is worthwhile to note both that this mountain points toward Golgotha – the mountain of the cross and sacrifice of the Son – and why it points that direction.

There is a beauty to sacrifice.  Cinema, in its best moments, is aware of this.  Think of those moments in movies that wrench our guts when the hero or heroine sacrifices (the soldier lets go of the rope and plummets to his death so that others in the troop might make it, Obi-Wan Kenobi lets Darth Vader strike him down, the priest in “The Mission” walks directly into a hail of gunfire while carrying the monstrance).  But the beauty of sacrifice is not limited to “big” moments.  Sacrifice can be seen in the parent who works two or three jobs in order to provide for his or her children, it can be found in the life of the teacher whose great work or opus is not a world-renowned symphony but generations of students whose lives are transformed by the love of learning.  There is a beauty in sacrifice.

Before the sacrifice of the cross to which we are journeying with our Lord is the moment of Transfiguration.  Before the sacrifice of the cross, all other sacrifices pale in comparison.  The sacrifice of the cross is infinite.  God dies that we might have life.  We killed God.  Do we recognize the scope of this?  Sometimes the true depth (and beauty) of sacrifice can only be recognized in contrast to what might have been.

Romano Guardini’s book, The Lord, is a powerful exploration of the fullness of the Christian mystery.  One thing that Guardini explores in his book is the great “What if?”  What if Jesus had not been crucified?  We assume that the crucifixion was just the way it had to happen, the way salvation was to be won.  Not necessarily so, asserts Guardini.  Within the Book of the prophet Isaiah running alongside the prophecies of the suffering servant, Guardini points out, are the visions of God’s mountain where peace is established, people forget the ways of war and right relationship is restored.  God is revealed in the midst of his people.  A choice is brought to us.  Christ, the humble God-man, stands before every part of society, yet each one denounces him and each one turns away.  The religious leaders call him a blasphemer, the government/military leaders mock him and wash their hands of him, the very people who welcomed him into Jerusalem waving palm branches later denounce him in favor of a criminal, even his disciples run away.  What if we had not turned away?  What if we had not denounced?  Yet we did.  Christ must go the way of the cross.

crucifix icon6Do we recognize the depth of the sacrifice?  Before the horror of the cross we have the moment of Transfiguration.  What might have been?  There is a spiritual that is usually sung during Holy Week but it is appropriate for all of Lent, “Were you there when they crucified my Lord?  Sometimes it causes me to tremble … tremble … tremble … Were you there when they crucified my Lord?”  The depth of the sacrifice of Christ…

Going back to the story shared earlier, it is good to know where we are in the spiritual life, in our journey toward Jerusalem.  This Sunday, in the beauty and awe of the Transfiguration … of who Christ is and of what might have been … we recognize the depth and love of the sacrifice of the cross.

God came to us.  We turned away.  Christ must go the way of the cross.

Another spiritual, “What wondrous love is this that caused the Lord of bliss to bear the dreadful curse, for my soul, for my soul…”