Homily: Teach Us How to Pray

17th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year C
Genesis 18:20-32
Psalm 138:1-2, 2-3, 6-7, 7-8
Colossians 2:12-14
Luke 11:1-13


Saint Theresa of Avila said that you pay God a big compliment when you ask big things of him. Saint Augustine said that God sometimes delays answering our prayers because he wants to give us more than we prayed for, and our hearts aren’t big enough to receive what he wants to give us; so our waiting and longing grows our heart to be large enough to receive the abundance of God’s response to our prayer.

If we ask God for something in prayer, there are three possibilities: No, Yes, and Not yet. And unlike asking the sun, or the moon, or a shooting star, when we ask God, his answer to our prayers—even if his answer is not what we hoped for—we have faith and trust is what is best for us, his answer out of his perfect love for us. The sin of the garden of Eden was humanity’s failure to trust God. And our prayer in the Holy Spirit is the healing of that wound: we offer our prayers in trust in God’s love for us. That’s the last part of our gospel reading: being able to trust God that he’s going to give us the good that we need, the best things, and of course, the best thing is the gift of the Holy Spirit.

Our readings are on the theme of persisting in prayer. I remember someone saying, “Every time a woman prays in the bible, God answers that prayer.” Maybe it’s that men ask God for something in prayer, they wait a bit, and then if they don’t get a response, they shrug it off and move on. But women in prayer are more persistent. And that persistence is the key.

Our gospel reading has a bunch of different parts. One is a parable on being persistent. The man in the parable, like Martha last week, wants to show the virtue of hospitality. But he has an unexpected guest show up in the middle of the night, and this poor man has to go to his neighbor’s house, pound on the door, and ask for bread to give to his guest. And the neighbor’s like, “Are you out of your mind? Go away, it’s midnight, we’re in bed, and I’m not getting up to give you bread.” And the man keeps pounding at the door. I think it’s Father Mike Schmitz who defined persistence as “the shameless refusal to quit.” The shameless refusal to quit. That’s what we need to bring to prayer. I’m going to keep persistently pursuing the Lord and asking for what I need and trusting in him. And if he doesn’t seem to be answering, then I’m going to allow my trust and my desire to grow as I shamelessly refuse to quit until he responds. Of course, it’s not that we have to keep pounding at the door to change God’s mind, like in the parable. It’s that we have to persist because we need to grow in our desire to receive from the Lord.

The beginning of our gospel reading is the shorter version of the Lord’s Prayer found in the Gospel of Luke. The disciples of Jesus see him deep in prayer, and when he’s finished, they ask him to teach them, to give them his deep, beautiful relationship of prayer with the Father. One thing we can learn from the difference between Matthew’s version and Luke’s version is that our prayer should not be just the same formula of words.

Some people just rattle off the same prayers, day after day. Remember that prayer is our relationship with God, like a relationship with our spouse, or other loved one. We don’t say the exact same words, as fast as we can, and end the conversation. Our words should be organic, natural, flowing expressively; we  mean, from the heart, the words we say to our beloved God. Even if we’re persisting in the same prayers, even if we’re reading a given prayer, like the rosary, mean every word, every time. It’s a conversation, an invitation to a deeper relationship. I’ll often slow down people in confession: We just had this deep, beautiful, authentic conversation, and then they race through the Act of Contrition. And I’ll stop them. No, start again, slower, and mean from your heart what you’re saying.

The same is true in the Mass. The words of the Mass are important. They come down to us through Sacred Tradition as the participation of the people of God in the authentic worship of the Church. They’re meaningful, and they’re important. We should think about them and take them seriously. And they help us to shape our own prayer life according to the spirit of the Church.

For those of you who are musicians, you’ll appreciate this. When I was teaching ensemble music, especially marching band or horn lines for drum corps, I would tell them, there’s a difference between practice and rehearsal. Practice is your own work: to learn the parts, learning the notes, the articulations, the timing, dynamics, and getting past the mechanics into actually being musical. Then rehearsal is when we come together to unite our individual parts into the offering of the whole group, unifying all of our individual work. And also, what we learn in rehearsal then helps us when we go back home to practice better.

The same is true with prayer. People often say, “I pray to God all day long.” That’s good, depending on the prayer. If you’re just giving God your wish list, giving him his instructions for the day, maybe that’s not such a healthy prayer life. Just like if your relationship with your spouse was just the list of chores to do, and nothing else to your relationship. Not a healthy marriage. Have deep conversations; listen as well as talking; give and receive.

God isn’t a wish granter. He’s a loving father who loves you and wants a meaningful relationship with you. Sometimes as Catholics we can bristle at the phrase, “a personal relationship with God.” It sounds un-Catholic to some. But it is absolutely the heart of Catholic life. God is not just personal, but a communion of persons, and prayer is for us to get personal with God. We have that access through the gift of the Holy Spirit. Get comfortable with the idea of the truly personal essence of prayer.

Look at the dialogue between Abraham and God in our first reading. What courage Abraham has to dare to haggle with God to save Sodom, principally on Abraham’s part to save his relative Lot and his family. Abraham repeatedly shows his humility and his awareness of the audacity of his requests. And God accepts and responds to his requests. It’s a personal conversation. Of course, God does destroy Sodom, after warning Lot and his family to flee. But the point is Abraham’s persistence in prayer, and his personal relationship with God that allowed that closeness (and courage) in conversation.

So nourishing that beautiful life of prayer, then bring the grace of your relationship with God and unite that to the prayer of the communion of the church. Each person’s personal prayer fuels our communal prayer, and our communal prayer shapes our personal prayer. We need both parts, the parts we do on our own, and then bringing that personal energy into the power of the church’s prayers of the Mass. In the Mass, we’re not a passive audience to an entertaining performance; we’re active participants in the Church’s liturgical worship of God.

For example, when the archangel Gabriel greets the virgin Mary, some artwork portrays Gabriel, this great angelic presence, as bowing low to this innocent teenage girl, and Gabriel addresses her with reverence, a reversal of roles from what we would expect, as Gabriel waits for Mary’s humble “Fiat,” her consent, her “May what you have said be true,” to the message of the angel. Do we pray the “Hail Mary” with that kind of authentic reverence and awe, like Gabriel did. Or like Elizabeth, filled with Holy Spirit, announcing, “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb.” Another example: Pope Saint John Paul the II in his reflection, “On the Church of the Eucharist” says that when the faithful receive communion, “there is a profound analogy between the ‘Fiat’ which Mary said in reply to the angel, and the ‘Amen’ which every believer says when receiving the body of the Lord.” Do we rush through and mumble our “Amen,” like saying “thank you” at the convenience store when we’re being given a receipt? Or do we reverently consider the gravity of that moment of encounter and gift? How much holiness can we inject into our response to the minister who holds up the sacred host and says to us, “The Body of Christ” and awaits the word of our response? Our “fiat”; our “Amen.”

How much can we consider the important words of the creed we proclaim, for which people at various times suffered and gave their lives to define and defend, in preserving the one / holy / catholic / and apostolic / church? Do we bow our heads, as the Church instructs us, as we say the words announcing our faith in the incarnation, that God himself “by the Holy Spirit was incarnate of the Virgin Mary, and became man.”? Do we sing what we are called upon to sing? Do we say what we’re called upon to say? All of which the Church requires of us to help us strengthen and shape our Christian spiritual life rightly—our life as disciples of Christ, and through him, children of God, living out our faith, persevering in prayer, trusting that God will abundantly and lovingly give us the good things that we need.

Homily: Martha and Mary

The main thing is to keep the main thing the main thing.” There’s a good reason that the first commandment in the Old Testament, “I am the LORD your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery. You shall not have other gods beside me,” sounds quite a bit like the first and greatest commandment in the New Testament, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind.” It’s because God, in the fullness of his divine Word, given to us for our salvation, wants to make sure that the main thing is that we keep the main thing the main thing. Or, “Put first things first.” Because that not only makes sure you take care of the first things, but also because it helps you view all the other things in light of the main thing.

Martha, Martha. Poor Martha. She gets such a bad rap from this gospel reading. She’s doing God’s work. The good and charitable work of hospitality. The Letter to the Hebrews says, “Do not neglect hospitality, for through it some have unknowingly entertained angels.” That seems to be a New Testament reference to our First Reading from the Old Testament. The reading starts out, “The LORD appeared to Abraham by the terebinth of Mamre, as he sat in the entrance of his tent, while the day was growing hot. Looking up, Abraham saw three men standing nearby.”

Now, strangely for the Old Testament, long before any revelation of the Holy Trinity, the reading gives us right up front who we’re talking about. “The Lord appeared,” and “Abraham saw three men standing.” In the Hebrew, it’s kind of peculiar, because Abraham inconsistently switches back and forth between singular and plural, like he’s not sure if he’s talking to one person or more than one. Maybe you have seen the beautiful 15th century icon, by Andrei Rublev called, “The Hospitality of Abraham” (sometimes just called “Rublev’s Trinity”). It shows three almost identical (with a few meaningful differences) figures sitting at a table, affirming the Christian belief that this Old Testament reading is giving a hint at the Holy Trinity. And I think this is quite fitting for the Church to have paired this with our gospel reading, in which Martha and Mary are definitely offering hospitality for a divine visit, with Jesus, Emmanuel, in their home. So, Martha is clearly doing something good and holy in offering hospitality to Jesus and his disciples. That’s not the trouble. Jesus doesn’t say anything like “don’t offer hospitality.” What does he say, “Martha, Martha, you are anxious and worried about many things.” That’s where the trouble is.

What did Martha say first, to elicit this response from Jesus? She said, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me by myself to do the serving? Tell her to help me.” Wow. Martha is… direct. Lord, do you not care? We can feel that way a lot of times. I’m suffering over here, there’s this injustice, don’t you care? Even in church, we can sometimes feel this way. Some kind of appreciation for my work, my visiting the sick, my stacking the chairs, my organizing this or that ministry, this or that committee, my this or that. “My God why have you abandoned me?” I’m left by myself to do the serving. All the cleaning up, the cooking, the drinks, the dishes… Meanwhile, Mary over there is just relaxing. Sure, I’d like to just sit and listen, too, but this meat and cheese tray ain’t gonna serve itself. You know what, Lord. That person over there enjoying themselves: You need to tell her to help me.

And that’s when Jesus… he doesn’t chastise her, doesn’t scold her… he frees her. He gives her a gentle, loving, knowing smile. I do see you, Martha. You are anxious and worried about many things. Important things, urgent things, things that have to get done. Getting the kids to soccer practice, working extra hours to pay the bills, sleeping in after getting home late last night. Getting ready for the things you have to do later. I see you. But you’re not making the main thing the main thing. Let go of those burdens for a while, and come sit with me. Listen to me. Just be with me. I’m here to spend time with you. Because I love you. Waste time with me, and just sit here and receive from me. That’s the cure to being anxious and worried about many things. That’s the cure to the poison of resentment to being busy, especially, in the church, when it becomes a burden instead of a gift of love.

Recharge your heart and soul by plugging them back into the Sacred Heart. “Jesus, meek and humble of heart, make my heart like unto Thine.” So Jesus here, he’s not condemning hospitality. He’s not saying don’t serve. He’s saying service is good, but intimacy with Christ is the better part. Service is good, but intimacy with Christ needs to come first. And that’s the fuel, and the right perspective, for everything else. We end up skipping church or prayer because we’re too busy, we don’t have time. And then we get upset that we feel that we’re just spinning our wheels, and we’re always busy and tired.

 And on the other side, we can fall into a kind of entitlement mentality. Why am I not being recognized? Why am I not getting the good things? I’ve been doing everything right. I’ve been praying. I’ve been being faithful. Why would God let this bad thing happen to me? Show me where in the Bible where Jesus said that bad things wouldn’t happen, that by being a good person we won’t suffer. He even warns them in the Last Supper about all these terrible things that are going to happen. And then he says, I tell you all this now, so you will know that I know you are suffering, and I am with you always. In this world, you will have trouble, but take courage, I have overcome the world. You will not overcome it. But if you have me, I will provide a way. I am the way. And that’s our bridge into our last section here, the second reading.

I remember a lecture by Dr. Scott Hahn in which he said that Colossians 1:24 was one of the key verses of his Catholic conversion. “I am filling up what is lacking in the afflictions of Christ.” We know that the afflictions of Christ are perfectly sufficient for our salvation. So what could Paul mean by this? Dr. Hahn said he looked up dozens of different commentaries and explanations and ended up dividing them into three piles. Ones which just ignored the difficulty, ones which gave a rather unsatisfactory explanation, and ones which gave a pretty convincing explanation. And he noticed that the third category was all from Catholic sources. To sum up, it is what we call, “redemptive suffering.” It’s behind what a Catholic means when we say, “Offer it up.” It means that we unite our sufferings into the suffering of Christ, and he draws us more deeply into the mystery and grace of his suffering. We then receive the two-fold benefit of having our suffering unite us more perfectly to Christ’s perfect love, purifying ourselves of distractions and errors and self-pity, to be made into a more selfless, self-surrendering gift to God. But also, God allows our suffering with Christ to give us grace through Christ that we can offer for a particular holy intention, such as our loved ones. What is lacking in the afflictions of Christ is our offering up of our suffering, our affliction, into the afflictions of Christ, so that we become sanctified by our own suffering with Christ, and through that, we also become vessels of the grace of the afflictions of Christ into the world around us.

And what strikes me, personally, as a priest, is the rest of Paul’s sentence. He says: “Now I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I am filling up what is lacking in the afflictions of Christ on behalf of his body, which is the church, of which I am a minister in accordance with God’s stewardship given to me to bring to completion for you the word of God, the mystery hidden from ages and from generations past.” Paul feels that, by his ordained vocation as their spiritual father, he has a special obligation and privilege of offering his afflictions for the people he is appointed by God to care for, to offer the grace of his redemptive suffering on behalf of the church, to help bring his people into the fullness of the mystery, now revealed in Christ, which is God’s suffering and saving love for us.

So what do we do with this? We tie it back to Martha and Mary. Mary chose the better part, the one thing, which is uniting herself, forming her heart, by intimate discipleship of Christ. We need to do the works of Martha, but in the spirit of Mary. Fill your heart with Christ, unite yourself to his love poured out for you, and nourished from that source, do your work. Serve God and others, as your participation, your unique personal share of loving others, offering your suffering for others, from the overflowing wellspring of divine life and love within you, out into the world and the people around us. That’s why putting God first is the first thing. That’s the main thing, of not being distracted and worried about many things. Not only avoiding our trying to pour out of an empty tank, trying to do the divine work before us with only our own human resources, but also to understand what is the most important work for us that we are called to do, and how the other things are rightly sorted after it. There is need of only one thing, the better part, and it will not be taken from us.

Homily: Gathering the Harvest

14th Sunday in Ordinary Time (Year C)
Isaiah 66:10-14c
Psalm 66:1-3, 4-5, 6-7, 16, 20
Galatians 6:14-18
Luke 10:1-12, 17-20 


St. Philip Neri, who earned the title “Apostle of Rome”, is an example of the missionary zeal in today’s Gospel. Philip came to Rome in the early 1500s as an immigrant. He was horrified by the moral condition of the city. Philip prayed to God to learn what he might do. He read the letters that St. Francis Xavier had sent back from India, where he had been converting tens of thousands. Philip thought that God was calling him to follow the great missionary to India. When he told his spiritual director what he thought God was asking of him, the wise old priest affirmed his desire to bear witness to Christ. However, he told Philip to focus his attention on re-evangelizing those around him, declaring, “Rome is to be your India!” Philip, relying on God’s help, started — first as a layman, then as a priest — to convert Rome. He would cheerfully go to street corners and say, “Friends, when are we going to start to do good?” He developed various social and religious activities to give the people better alternatives for their hearts and time than those offered by the culture around them. When he died in 1595, much of Rome had been reconverted. This would also be a good example of what the Church in the 20th century is calling “The New Evangelization,” to call back to faithful discipleship those who already received the gospel yet have fallen away from following it. The same God who spoke to Philip almost five hundred years ago challenges each one of us this morning through the Scriptures, “Your home and your family, your workplace and your parish are your mission field!” Or to use one of my favorite phrases, “Bloom where you’re planted.

Our Gospel reading reminds us of when Jesus first sent out his twelve apostles. And he had given them a share in his power and authority. It says, “He summoned the Twelve and gave them power and authority over all demons and to cure diseases, and he sent them to proclaim the kingdom of God and to heal [the sick].

The scene in our gospel reading is in the chapter of Saint Luke’s gospel after that, and here Jesus sends out seventy-two disciples. Here it says, “At that time the Lord appointed seventy-two others whom he sent ahead of him in pairs to every town and place he intended to visit. He said to them, ‘The harvest is abundant, but the laborers are few; so, ask the master of the harvest to send out laborers for his harvest. Go on your way; behold, I am sending you like lambs among wolves.

So, some interesting things to notice here. First, we might hear it said by some Christians that Jesus didn’t have organization to his followers, they were a motley crew of believers who just went out and shared the good news about Jesus. However, the gospels, especially Matthew, present Jesus as a new Moses, a new prophetic lawgiver. Moses was instructed by God to ordain Aaron and his two sons, and then, again instructed by God, appointed seventy elders to help him in his ministry over the twelve tribes of Israel. Jesus frequently set apart Peter, James and John as special witnesses of his works, he had twelve apostles, and now commissions seventy (or seventy-two) to assist him in his ministry. Just as in Jesus’ time, there was the High Priest, and the Sanhedrin, or high council, of seventy (or seventy-two) elders. So, Jesus is not being random here, it is very intentional. He is establishing something new, but in a well-established structure.

He tells them of their purpose: not only prepare the way for him, but also recruit more laborers; to reap the harvest that the master of the harvest has already prepared in the hearts of those who will respond and join in the work to be done for the kingdom.

And he tells them that it will not necessarily go smoothly, like lambs among wolves. There’s a quote attributed to G. K. Chesterton that says, “Jesus promised his disciples three things—that they would be completely fearless, absurdly happy, and in constant trouble.” We sometimes need to remember that the gospels are written after Pentecost to often suffering communities of the faithful, to both better instruct them in the faith, and also to inspire them to live out the faith. And so sometimes the current experiences of the community, such as suffering persecution, feeling like lambs among wolves, are written in the gospels as part of that affirmation that they are living out what Jesus had taught.

The rest of the instructions that Jesus gives the seventy-two are almost the same as what he had told the twelve in the previous chapter. But the ending here is wonderfully important. “The seventy-two returned rejoicing, and said, ‘Lord, even the demons are subject to us because of your name.’ Jesus said, ‘I have observed Satan fall like lightning from the sky. Behold, I have given you the power to ‘tread upon serpents’ and scorpions and upon the full force of the enemy and nothing will harm you.  Nevertheless, do not rejoice because the spirits are subject to you, but rejoice because your names are written in heaven.’” So obviously as we all know, there is great joy in seeing how God has worked through us to help someone else. He has given his Church a share in his power and authority to vanquish demons and other evils, represented here by Old Testament references to serpents and scorpions, by Jesus’ authority. And he says something we’ve often heard, the war of good and evil is already won. But the spiritual battles continue. There’s another old quote, “When Satan reminds you of your past, you remind him of his future.” But there we see the crux of the gospel reading: don’t rejoice just because you saw the losing side losing; rejoice because by your faith you are on the winning side winning. You’re on the right side, even when it doesn’t seem that way. Again, that affirmation and encouragement the Word of God provides us for difficult times.

This ties in beautifully with our first reading from the Old Testament prophet Isaiah, giving Israel, represented by its mother city of Jerusalem, God’s promise of victory and consolation. And we know that this promise, this victory, is won by the fulfillment of the long-awaited Messiah of Israel, Jesus Christ, and in the Church, the fulfillment of Israel. Isaiah says, “Thus says the LORD: Rejoice with Jerusalem and be glad because of her, all you who love her; exult with her, all you who were mourning over her!” Another great quote, again by Chesterton, “Christianity has died many times and risen again; for it had a God who knew the way out of the grave.” Back to the reading, with God speaking through Isaiah, “Lo, I will spread prosperity over Jerusalem like a river, and the wealth of the nations like an overflowing torrent… as a mother comforts her child, so will I comfort you; in Jerusalem you shall find your comfort. When you see this, your heart shall rejoice…the LORD’s power shall be known to his servants.” The traditional understanding of the prophecy of the world’s treasures flowing toward Jerusalem, is the opposite of how it was ultimately fulfilled: not that they would come to Jerusalem, but that the faith and the divine kingdom that started in Jerusalem, the Church, would flow out to include all the world. And we find our greatest comfort, our peace and affirmation of love in the Church, in God, and when we see this, the Lord’s power is known to those who serve him, and our hearts rejoice. So beautiful. Dr. Scott Hahn has a book called, “A Father Who Keeps His Promises,” and it’s about things like this, how the promises of the Old Testament are fulfilled in the New Testament.

And lastly, as is often the case, Saint Paul brings it home in the second reading. “Brothers and sisters: may I never boast except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, through which the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world. For neither does circumcision mean anything, nor does uncircumcision, but only a new creation.” We don’t put our hearts, our worth, our identity, our priority, on anything in this passing world. Certainly, there are things that are both urgent and important, and cause us stress, but never to the extent that they interfere with the faith and worship we owe to God, and nourishing our relationship with Him. We are made a new creation in Him, still body and spirit, still with bills to pay and problems to solve, but one who has peace that the world cannot give. Happiness that comes from knowing we have a great purpose, even to our suffering, and in God’s plan for our life and our salvation, he included how dumb we can be sometimes, and to me, that is a great comfort. So let us continue detaching our sense of self and priorities from this world and strengthen their hold on the true and eternal world to come. And help and inspire others to do the same. “The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit, brothers and sisters. Amen.