XXVI Sunday of the Year

FAILING TO SEE THE LITTLE ONES

Amos 6:1, 4-7; 1 Timothy 6:11-16; Luke 16:19-31

Readings for the XXVI Sunday of the Year

A botanist was observing heather-bell (a tiny flower native to western Europe) through his magnifying glass. A shepherd approached and asked him what he was doing. Rather than explain, the botanist invited the shepherd to observe for himself. When the shepherd saw the wonder of the flower, he exclaimed: “My gosh, and I have been tramping on them all my life!” 

With his eyes blinded by the cares of his world, the shepherd had failed to see the tiny flower; it took a special lens to see it.

That was the sin of the rich man in the gospel parable. He was not cruel to Lazarus. His life of luxury blinded him from seeing the nondescript Lazarus lying at his door. Dogs noticed Lazarus, the rich man did not. 

In torment in Hades, he sees Lazarus. It takes the lens of suffering for him to see Lazarus. But even in Hades, the rich man clings to the illusion of his superiority and “commands” Abraham to send Lazarus with water to cool his tongue! Even in his misery, the rich man saw Lazarus only as a servant.

Like the upper classes in Jerusalem at the time of Amos (see first reading), the rich man cannot grasp the reality of his situation and persists in thinking that he can secure his family’s future. 

The parable does not condemn the man for being rich; remember that Abraham was wealthy, and he isn’t in the place of torment. The parable condemns him for being blinded by his luxurious lifestyle, for being an untrustworthy steward, for his apathy that neither Moses nor the prophets nor even the one who rises from the dead can penetrate. 

In our busyness and in our pursuit of our wants and expectations, we become quite adept at shutting the world out, not seeing or hearing the Lazaruses in our lives.

Who are the Lazaruses that I fail to see in my life? What is it that blinds me to them? What lenses do I need to see the tiny and nondescript people in my life and stop “tramping” them?

May we have the eyes of Jesus who saw the poor and reached out to them, who saw the sick and healed them, who saw the little ones and blessed them, who saw the crowds and had compassion on them. 

May we see…

XXV Sunday of the Year

SECURING OUR FUTURE

Amos 8:4-7; 1 Timothy 2:1-8; Luke 16:1-13

Readings for the XXV Sunday of the Year

A friend of mine survived Hurricane Katrina. A few days later, a neighbour asked him: “What claims are you putting in?” My friend had not suffered any major damage; he answered: “None.” His neighbour couldn’t believe it. He said: “Are you nuts! Here’s your opportunity to collect a few bucks. The insurance companies are writing cheques on the spot. How can you pass up putting in a claim for $5,000 for… whatever? You’ve been paying premiums all these years. Get a little back. Secure your future.”

The neighbour’s ethics is questionable and it’s easy to criticise him for falsifying a claim. But securing one’s future is something most of us do. Think of the time spent working out which bank gives the best interest, which mutual funds give the best returns, which courses to do to improve our market-value. We are trying to ensure a secure future.

That’s what the steward in today’s parable does. When he gets the pink slip, he does everything, even cooks the books, just to secure his future. 

The parable has nothing to do with the steward’s dishonesty. Jesus challenges us to be as resourceful and committed to secure our future with God as the dishonest steward was to secure his future in this world. 

Jesus gives us some sound investment advice: “Make friends for yourselves with unrighteous mammon.” The Aramaic “mammon” is related to “emet” the word for faithful; it stands for something upon which one depends. We tend to think that our security lies in material possessions; that putting money in a safe place is the best way to assure our future. Jesus tells us to exchange it for bonds of mutual appreciation and to use our resources to build relationships because people, as the steward discovered, are more important than money. The most important relationship is the one with God!

Jesus asks his disciples to imitate “the children of this world” who are totally committed to a single cause and serve only one master.

Today’s liturgy challenges us to secure our future with God. 

What am I going to do to secure my future? In whom and what am I go to invest my time and my resources?

Will I use the resources that God has given me and serve him with all the shrewdness, effort, and resources that I put into other areas in my life?

XXIV Sunday of the Year

LOST – FOUND – FORGIVEN

Exodus 32:7-11, 13-14; 1 Timothy 1:12-17; Luke 15:1-32

Readings for the XXIV Sunday of the Year

An ocean liner was headed to the middle east. Nine hundred miles out to sea, the crew sighted a sail on the horizon. As the liner drew closer, they saw that the boat had run up a distress signal; the small vessel was lost. For nearly an hour the liner circled the little boat and gave its crew its correct position. There was a great deal of interest in the proceeding among the passengers of the liner. A boy of about twelve was on the deck watching all that was happening. He remarked aloud to himself: “It’s a big ocean to be lost in.”

It is a big universe to be lost in, too. And we do get lost! We make mistakes, we break relationships with God, others, self, and creation. We deserve the wrath of God.

That is what the Pharisees and scribes of Jesus’ time maintained. But what we get is a search and rescue operation, and God’s caring and forgiving love!

Through the three lost-and-found parables—the lost sheep, the lost coin, and the lost son(s)—Jesus emphasizes that God is like shepherd who cares for all his sheep and diligently searches for one lost sheep; like a poor widow who treasures all her coins and relentlessly searches for that one lost coin; and above all, is a Father who cares for his children and yearns to have them close to him but respects their freedom and waits patiently for their return. The point of the parables is that God’s mercy comes after us, finds us, and rejoices when it finds us. 

God’s forgiveness is the thrust of the other readings too. In the first reading, though Israel’s sin of worshipping a molten calf calls for God’s wrath, he relents and forgives her. In the second reading, Paul acknowledges that God has mercifully treated him who “was once a blasphemer and a persecutor and arrogant” and this mercy is an example of God’s patience. 

The readings communicate the good news that no matter how lost we are, God searches for us, waits patiently and eagerly for us to “come to our senses” and return home; he delights when he finds us and forgives us. We are the object of God’s relentless and untiring search; we are the recipients of the gaze of that love which we picture on the face of the father in the parable. 

Do I believe that God loves me with an immeasurable love, that I need never despair even when I am hopelessly lost? 

When I am lost, will I allow God (and his search party!) to find me? Will I return home trusting in his caring and forgiving love?

May I realise that I will never fall into the “lost forever” category and that the Father never tires me.

XXIII Sunday of the Year

DISCIPLESHIP: COUNT THE COST AND COMMIT

Wisdom 9:13-18b; Philemon 9-10, 12-17; Luke 14:25-33

Readings for the XXIII Sunday of the Year

Some time ago, a priest invited me to preach a retreat for his school boys. Since he is a good friend, I said yes. I did not consider my community and province responsibilities; I did not consider my health or that I’d have to manage a hundred boys. And I struggled. Before, during, and after! And I wished—quite often—that I had not said “yes”!

Have you ever felt that way? We accept invitations, take up tasks and responsibilities without realizing their demands, and then we either fail or struggle to honour our commitments.

Over the past few Sundays, the gospels have been about aspects of discipleship and Jesus’ invitation to follow him. Today he tells us that we need to know the cost of discipleship and consider whether we have the resources to meet the cost before we commit ourselves. 

He uses two parables to stress the point: before beginning construction, a builder would work out the cost of his defence tower; before battle, a king would consider whether his outnumbered army would be able to face the enemy. The advice is clear: sit down, look at the demands, and figure out whether you can meet them. 

There are two demands: total and unconditional loyalty (expressed in strange terms: “hating father-mother, wife-children, brothers-sisters”) and carrying one’s cross. 

A clarification! In Aramaic, “hate” is not a feeling word; it is a priority word: to say that I love one and hate another means that I choose to carry out my commitment to one in preference to the other when the commitments are in conflict. No commitment, however important, can come before our commitment to God. 

The second reading expresses the cost of discipleship for Philemon!

Were Philemon not a Christian, he could have killed Onesimus or punished him so severely that he would never again consider running away. But as a Christian dealing with a Christian, he had to accept the runaway slave and accept him as a brother!

What is the cost of discipleship for me? Do I have to give up my hatreds and resentments against those who injured me? My attachments to people and things? What are the commitments and relationships that I must hate so that I can commit myself to Jesus?