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, his neighbour asked him: “What claims are you putting in?” My friend had not suffered major damage; he answered: “None.” His neighbour couldn’t believe it. He said: “Are you nuts! Here’s your opportunity to collect big bucks; 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.”

It’s easy to criticise the man for his questionable ethics and for falsifying a claim. But securing one’s future is something we do: we spend time 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 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” (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 of my life?

The Exaltation of the Cross

THE CROSS SAVES

Numbers 21:4b-9; Philippians 2:6-11; John 3:13-17

Readings for the Exaltation of the Cross

A little girl suffered severe burn injuries in an accident. Every day, the medical team would take her for debridement: a painful procedure to remove the dead tissue. She went through excruciating pain but never complained. She often remarked: “I know you are doing this so that I can get better.” This amazing kid knew that the pain was part of her restoration to health. 

Acceptance of pain leading to growth: that’s an unwritten law of life. Surgery is painful, but it saves. A child leaving home to go to college is painful for parents and child, but it is needed to help the child to become his/her own person.

Acceptance of pain leading to growth, the Cross as the way of salvation – this is what we celebrate today. 

In the Gospel, Jesus leads Nicodemus to the heart of the mystery of the Son of God who descended from heaven and was “lifted up as Moses lifted up the serpent in the desert”. 

The First Reading describes the Israelites’ grumbling and ingratitude towards God after he provided them with manna. This brought on God’s displeasure: poisonous snakes bit them. When Moses asked God to save them, he asked him to make a bronze serpent and mount it on a pole; whoever looked at it would live. The symbol of their pain becomes the instrument of their salvation! Jesus says that all who gaze upon him “lifted up” on the cross will see their sins with the inevitable painful results. But they will understand them as forgiven and will find again the life of God.

The second reading is the hymn from Paul’s Letter to the Philippians in which the acceptance of the cross is seen as the cause of Christ’s “exaltation”. 

The snake was the curse and the cure. The cross was the curse and the cure. Can the things that are hardest in our life bring us closest to God? What are the crosses I need to accept?

May our celebration of Christ’s death strengthen us to accept our crosses that we may celebrate his resurrection as well.

XXIII Sunday of the Year

THE COST OF DISCIPLESHIP

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 students. 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. 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 fail or struggle to honour our commitment.

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 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-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? What hatreds/ resentments/  attachments must I give up? What are the commitments and relationships that I must hate so that I can commit myself to Jesus?