Author: patcamerino

Have you ever looked out of an airplane window at thirty-thousand feet and wondered what it would be like to be God? Seeing the earth from five miles up is an impressive sight, seeing the wrinkles of the Rocky Mountains or the U-turns of the Mississippi give me a feeling of awe. What must God see when he looks down on this planet?

Ancient people wondered about this too, even without the experience of airplanes. In their imagination, they saw their gods looking down from on high, perhaps from Mount Olympus, or from Valhalla. Their gods flew above the earth, they were really not part of it. Even the God of the Israelites was known as El Shaddahi, the God of the mountain. Generations later, Yahweh appeared to Moses on the top of Mount Sinai. The most holy place of all was Mount Zion. But then, something occurred which changed all of that. “Yes, God so loved the world that he gave his only son, that whoever believes in him may not die but may have eternal life.”

Today is Trinity Sunday, the feast day when we celebrate our One God in three divine Persons: Father, Son and Holy Spirit. On such a day, a homilist might say this is an unexplainable mystery. I could say that, too, and then sit down, having given one of the shortest homilies you’ve ever heard me give! Although some of you might prefer it that way, Father Ed says I have to do more than that, otherwise I might set a bad example, and you might expect he should give two-minute homilies on Sundays!

Yes, the Trinity is a mystery which cannot really be explained but must be accepted. However, I do believe it’s worthwhile for us to reflect on what the Trinity means to each one of us. So, the focus of my reflection for today is on what the Trinity means to me. I also need to mention what the Trinity is not. It’s not three separate things. Whatever I might say about God-the-Father is equally true for God-the-Son and God-the-Holy Spirit. That’s what makes it a mystery.

Today is also Flag Day. And it would be tempting to think of the Trinity in terms of the red, white and blue of the flag. After all, the flag has a meaning only when all three colors are present. Take one away and you don’t have a U.S. flag. In that way, the flag is a little like the Trinity. But in our flag, the three colors are always completely separate. Somehow in the Trinity, the three persons, although distinct, are never separate.

All of this can become very much of a head-trip. From time to time the Trinity has been called the toy of the theologians, meaning the idea is so abstract only theologians can play around with it. But the Trinity, our God, is not for just theologians. The Trinity, our Three-in-One God, is for you and for me. So, what do I mean when I think about the Trinity?

First, of all, I think about the Father. For me, God, the Almighty, was originally a white-bearded grandfather figure. And that’s what he was for the Hebrews too. In our first reading from Exodus, Yahweh-God described himself to Moses. Yahweh-God said that he, himself, was “ … merciful, gracious … slow to anger and rich in kindness and fidelity.” Isn’t that a description for most grandfathers you know? After all, most grandparents are usually more understanding of little kids than their parents are. Sometimes we hear descriptions of God as Father, or Abba, and have trouble relating to this image because of problems we’ve had with our own father. In fact, in some non-European cultures, where the biological father was not around, and the true support came from the grandfather, early missionaries spoke of God-our-Grandfather, rather than God-our-Father

When we speak of the Trinity and say God-our-Father, what we are really saying is that God is someone who offers us warmth, protection, mercy, kindness, forgiveness (just like a papa or mama does, or a favorite grandpa or grandma or uncle or aunt does.) God offers me a lap to cuddle up in, and warm arms to hug me. When I say God-our-Father, I mean God is like the perfect parent I long for.

But God is more than that. God is also my perfect brother. And since I’m an only child, this person is like the perfect brother or sister I never saw but dreamed about. God-the-Son is that perfect sibling. God-the-Son is like a friend or companion. He is also a guide or teacher. But he’s not an authority figure.

Think for a moment, of your very best friend, your buddy, your pal, your favorite brother or favorite sister. Now then, God-my-Best-Friend is just like that. God is someone I can laugh with, or cry with. God is someone I can argue with and still speak with when the argument ends. God is someone I can tell my secrets to who won’t laugh and will not think I’m either crazy or bad. God-my-Best-Friend is someone who listens to me no matter what I say or when I say it. My best friend also challenges me to be better than I think I can be. My best friend shares my experiences and helps me see what they mean in my life. While God-the-Father gives me comfort, God-the-Son gives me companionship.

And what about God-the-Holy-Spirit? Here we need to reflect for a moment on how we say that God is Love. The Holy Spirit is the love of the Father for the Son and of the Son for the Father, the love of the parent for the child and of the child for the parent. The Holy Spirit is, also, the love between two best-friends, between perfect brothers or sisters. The Holy Spirit is love and also the lover. The Holy Spirit is not only the lover but also the beloved. Every lover and every beloved experience the strength and the courage which come from the love they share. When we truly are in love, we say we’d climb the highest mountain or swim the deepest ocean.

But love is even more than that. When you are truly in love, you can close your eyes and feel the presence of the lover, of the beloved. You can be half a world away from one another and still be present to one another. And this is what Jesus, the Son of God, promised to each of us. He promised he and his Father would send us a lover and a beloved who would defend us, strengthen us, give us the gifts of the Father. One who would always be with us. When we speak of the Trinity and say God-the-Holy-Spirit, what we are really saying is that God is like the lover, the beloved, who is constantly within me, who is as real to me as anything I can touch, because this lover/beloved is part of me. While God-the-Father gives me comfort, and God-the-Son gives me companionship, God-the-Holy-Spirit gives me completeness.

A few minutes ago, when I began this reflection, I used the image of an almighty God flying above the earth, or looking down on mere mortals from some high mountain. But such a God is not our Trinitarian God. Our God does not soar above us. He is not some external power who judges us and condemns us. In the words of today’s Gospel: “God did not send the son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world might be saved through him.” Our Trinitarian God, instead of being above us, is with us, as a parent, as a companion and as our completeness. Yes, most important, our God is within us, within you and within me. He calls each one of us to recognize and honor this fact, to live in harmony and peace with ourselves and with others. In this way, the God of love and peace will be with you.

What more can I add than the greeting of St Paul to the brothers and sisters at Corinth? “May the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you all.”

^{Trinity Sunday; June 14, 1987
Ex 34:4-6, 8-9; 2 Cor 13:11-13; Jn 3:16-18}

This weekend we celebrate “Trinity” Sunday. So, my question should probably be about the Trinity. How about this one, this question, for Trinity Sunday: What is the usual symbol we use to denote “The Trinity?” If you’re Irish, I suppose you thought of St. Patrick’s shamrock. However, the more ancient symbol for the Trinity is the triangle, an equilateral triangle, one in which the three sides are equal, and the three angles are equal. Yes, this is often how in religious artwork the Trinity is depicted, a triangle standing for the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, the three “persons” who compose our one, Trinitarian God.

But there is a third symbol, a predominantly Catholic symbol, that also represents the Trinity of Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Of course, I mean the “Sign of the Cross” which every one of our children learns to make at an early age, even if they aren’t quite sure whether the left or right shoulder comes first. Yes, Father, Son and Holy Spirit (or Holy Ghost, if you are as old as I am) have played an import role in our lives. Or is it “roles?” Do the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit play one and the same role, or do they each play a different role in our lives?

The answer to this question is not an easy one. Scholars and people, in general, have wondered about it for centuries. Just what do we mean by our One, Trinitarian God? What do we mean when we say we believe in One God with three divine “persons:” Father, Son and Holy Spirit? In fact, there are some so-called “modern” interpretations which do not use these words in describing the Trinity. Rather than saying “Father, Son and Holy Spirit” some would prefer to say, “Creator, Redeemer and Sustainer.” Somehow, they feel that these terms are more “inclusive,” since they do not rely on gender-suggestive words like “Father” and “Son.”

The Catholic Church does not agree. In the rite of Baptism, a priest or deacon must use the words: “I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.” We’re not allowed to say: “I baptize you in the name of the Creator, and of the Redeemer and of the Sustainer.”

On the other hand, these words can be used in an attempt to describe our Trinitarian God who acts as “creator,” and as “redeemer,” and as “sustainer.” In the same way, our readings for today, also, include these concepts of the Father who creates us, the Son who redeems us, and the Holy Spirit who sustains us.

In our first reading from the Book of Exodus we heard how: “Having come down in a cloud, the LORD stood with Moses there and proclaimed his name, “LORD.” Thus the LORD passed before him and cried out, “The LORD, the LORD, a merciful and gracious God, slow to anger and rich in kindness and fidelity.”” The LORD pronounced his own name to Moses. A word which in English is often said to be Yahweh: I AM WHO AM. The name of the God who has the attributes of an ideal father, one who is merciful and gracious, a father who is slow to anger and rich in kindness and fidelity.

At the same time Moses, admitting his people were stubborn and, thus, reluctant to change, Moses pleaded with the LORD, saying: “… yet pardon our wickedness and sins and receive us as your own.” And the LORD did just that. The LORD GOD sent us his only Son to pardon us of “our wickedness and sins” so that we, as his people, could be received as his own. The Father-Creator sent his Son as our Redeemer, our Savior. We heard these words clearly stated in the passage from John’s gospel I proclaimed a few minutes ago: “For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world might be saved through him.”

But let’s return for a moment to another request Moses made in today’s first reading. Moses said: “If I find favor with you, O LORD, do come along in our company.” And our Trinitarian God has done just that. He has joined with us and remained in our company as the Holy Spirit who sustains us on our journey.

Saint Paul made this clear in his blessing in today’s reading from his second letter to the Corinthians when he wrote: “The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with all of you.” How often have we heard those words and not really thought about what they might say about our Trinitarian God?
● Our Trinitarian God who is “the love of the Father”
● Our Trinitarian God who is “the grace of the Son”
● Our Trinitarian God who is “the fellowship of the Holy Spirit.”
Our Trinitarian God who is, at one and the same time, Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Our Trinitarian God who embodies Love, Grace and Fellowship. The One who is Creator, Redeemer and Sustainer.

Perhaps, for a moment, in an attempt to appreciate the Trinity of our spiritual lives, we might think about other trinities in our secular lives. There is the secular trinity of time, itself. The trinity we call “past, present and future.” If we remove any one of them, time as we know it, ceases to exist. There can be neither present nor future without a past. If only the past exists, how can there be either a present or a future? Who can say when the past becomes the present or when the future takes over from past and present? Is an attempt to separate past, present and future any easier than trying to figure out the relationship of Father, Son and Holy Spirit, or of Creator, Redeemer and Sustainer, being one and the same?

Or consider space. What is the reality of length without both width and height? We exist in three dimensions and would cease to exist if we lost any one of them. And yes, we now say we exist in four dimensions. In our modern world we believe in the unity of a space-time continuum, a joining together of length, breadth and height with past, present and future.

However, I would suggest we might also consider the unity of what might be called a “spiritual space-time continuum.” A continuum based on three holidays, three “holy days”: Christmas, Easter and Pentecost. In this spiritual continuum, we celebrate the Incarnation of our God, the Resurrection of our God and the Inspiration of our God. In this Trinity, we recognize the Father who sends the Son, and then the Son who returns to the Father, and finally their sending of their Holy Spirit to us. In the continuum of Christmas, Easter and Pentecost, we acknowledge the Trinitarian love of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit which prompts this Incarnation, this Resurrection and this Inspiration.

Sometimes we say, “love makes the world go around.” Indeed, it does. In fact, it is love that makes the universe go around. This “universe,” this so-called “one turning,” consists of a dance of love. Dancing with the Stars may be a popular TV program, but it is in the dance of the universe, it is in the dance of the Trinity, that the Father and the Son become the dancers, and the Holy Spirit becomes another name for the dance itself.

Perhaps, it is now time for all of us to be caught up in the rhythm and movement of this dance of the Trinity. As Saint Paul has said: “May the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ and the love of God and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with [each one of us.]” In the name (†) of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen. So be it.

^{Most Holy Trinity; May 18, 2008
Ex 34:4b-6, 8-9; 2 Cor 13;11-13; Jn 3;16-18}

This weekend many of us will be involved in celebrating two events: one a national holiday, the other a major feast day, a significant “holy day” of the Church. As you’re well aware, Fathers’ Day and Trinity Sunday are the holiday and the holy day we celebrate. The former is a national holiday, proclaimed by Congress in 1972, to honor our fathers. Although some would maintain it’s mainly a commercial holiday to go along with Mother’s Day, we celebrate it never-the-less.

The latter celebration, Trinity Sunday, has a much older history. It goes back to the 4th century, to the time known as the Arian heresy, when some Christians denied the divinity of Christ and broke away from the established Church. However, it wasn’t until the 1300’s that Pope John XXII (yes, the twenty-second, not the more recent John the 23rd) declared the Sunday after Pentecost should be designated as “Trinity Sunday,” a special day to honor our Triune God: the Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

OK, for those of you who have been waiting for my question, here it is. How do you plan to celebrate these two events this weekend? For Fathers’ Day, do you give your dad another tie or another bottle of aftershave lotion? Was it Polo or Old Spice you bought him last year? Or will you be treating him to a dinner he doesn’t have to pay for? Or maybe you’ll gather together for a special barbeque he prepares for you? Or perhaps, this will be merely a day for him to relax and not have any weekend chores to do or places for him to take you. Yes, there are many ways for us to celebrate Fathers’ Day and make it a special day for each of our Fathers.

But what about Trinity Sunday? What are your plans for celebrating this special day for the one we call Father, Son and Holy Spirit? Perhaps, for many of us, the response is: “Nothing.” After all, what is so special about Trinity Sunday, anyway? In fact, what’s so special about the Trinity, itself. What’s the big deal?

Actually, for two-thousand years, the Trinity has been a very “big deal.” Our belief in a Three-in-One God has divided us from others. As I mentioned a few moments ago, early Christians were divided in their beliefs about the divinity of the one called Jesus. They asked: Was he divine or only another prophet? Did God really become man and take on human flesh? Did our God really suffer on a cross, die for us and rise from the dead?

And what about the spirit of God? Is God really present here and now, within this assembly, within each one of us, guiding us and strengthening us in our journey in and toward his kingdom? In reply to these questions, early Councils of the Christian church established a creed, a belief statement, about our Trinitarian God, our God whose name is Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

This response, contained in the Nicene Creed we proclaim during each Eucharistic celebration, did not end the conflicts among us. In fact, our belief in a Trinity has been a major point of difficulty between Christians and Jews and Muslims for centuries. This Trinitarian belief has led to accusations by Jews and Muslims that we Christians worship three gods, whereas they worship only one God. And at certain times, this may seem to be the case.

Each one of us, at different times during our lives, seems to have a particular fondness for one of the three Persons of our Triune God, almost to the exclusion of the other two Persons. Many look upon Jesus as Lord and pay minimal attention to either the Father or the Holy Spirit. Others may be very spirit-filled with a particular relationship with the Holy Spirit and the charisms or gifts given to us through the Holy Spirit. And of course, there are those who find a special comfort in God, the Father, to whom we offer the prayer taught by his son.

Although these views are valid and helpful to each of us, we must not lose sight of what the early Church fathers taught us, namely:
● the divine nature of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit is one, their glory is equal, their majesty is coeternal,
● both Trinity in Unity and Unity in Trinity must be venerated,
● whatever is said about the Father is equally true for the Son and for the Holy Spirit,
● whatever is said about the Son is equally true for the Father and for the Holy Spirit,
● whatever is said about the Holy Spirit is equally true for the Son and for the Father.

Sometimes, even our holy days may tend to emphasize one of the Persons of the Trinity with partial neglect of the other Persons. With Christmas, we may focus on the Incarnation of God the Father as the Son and downplay the role of the Holy Spirit overshadowing Mary. With Easter, we may focus on the passion and resurrection of Jesus, the Son of the Father, and downplay the role of the Father and of the Holy Spirit in our total redemption and salvation. With Pentecost, we may focus on the descent of the Holy Spirit upon the Apostles and minimize the role of the Father and Son in the gifts which are included within this action.

Perhaps, this is part of the reason why John XXII designated the Sunday after Pentecost as Trinity Sunday, a celebration combining Christmas, Easter and Pentecost, a celebration of Father, Son and Holy Spirit joined as our one, loving and saving God.

Our readings for today call to mind our Three-in-One God. In our first reading from Exodus, we once more heard how the Lord God appeared to Moses and proclaimed Himself to be: “… a merciful and gracious God, slow to anger and rich in kindness and fidelity.” In the Gospel reading we heard: “.. God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish but might have eternal life.” And Saint Paul in his writings to the Corinthians prays: “… The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ and the love of God and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with all of you.”

Perhaps, in our mutual celebration of Fathers’ Day and Trinity Sunday, we can also honor not only our human fathers but, also, our God who is Father, Son and Holy Spirit. We do not need to give our Triune God, a tie or aftershave lotion, but we can clothe Him with our honor and love. We do not need to take Him to dinner or have Him prepare His special barbeque, but we can participate actively in the fellowship meal He has prepared for us at this Eucharistic celebration. We do not need to offer God an opportunity to relax and take a day off from caring for us. Instead, we need to acknowledge He has given us a day of rest, the day of Sabbath, in celebration of all that He has created and given to us.

We do not need to reserve only the “Sunday after Pentecost” to honor our Trinitarian God. We can do this every time we pray: (†) “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.”

^{Trinity Sunday: June 19, 2011
Ex 34:4b-6, 8-9; 2 Cor 13:11-13; Jn 3:16-18}

Today’s question involves your own personal philosophy. It’s this: Do you get what you deserve? Do you get what you have earned? Most of us, I believe, like to think we do. And when we don’t get what we deserve, what we’ve earned, we, at least, think we should have. After all, it’s the “American Way,” isn’t it? You work hard and you get your reward. You don’t work hard; you’re a loser.

We learn this at an early age. Parents tell their kids, “You study hard and you’ll earn good grades. You goof off and you’ll fail.” Later on, our boss tells us: “You work hard and you’ll earn that promotion and the raise which go along with it. If you slough-off or miss the deadline, you’re going to be fired.” None of us wants to play the “Donald Trump” game and hear the words: “You’re fired.” We all want to be the final “Survivor” who earned the position because of how we played the game, no matter how bad our actions were in order to get to be among the “final four¹.”

We call it a Meritocracy, a society in which each one of us gets what we merit, what we’ve “earned.” We believe a Meritocracy is good and greatly preferred to an “Aristocracy” in which we inherit from our ancestors everything we have. We’re told inherited wealth is not as “good” as what we, ourselves, have earned, even if we would probably enjoy having inherited money and not need to go to a job each day. Yet, deep down, we’re willing to make sacrifices in order to earn our living. We tell each other, if it’s not worth our own self-sacrifice, it’s not really worth the getting.

When we get what we’ve earned it’s OK to feel self-righteous about it. After all, I earned it. It’s my right to have it and keep it. Why do I need to share what my hard work accomplished? Let others work for what they want. Let others earn it. The poor are that way because they don’t want to work. They’re just lazy and so they get what they deserve. Nothing. That’s what capitalism and free enterprise are all about. You get what you earn and you keep it.

Sometimes, we call it the modern business ethic: work hard and you’ll get what you earn, slack off and you won’t get anything. A number of us turn this “business work ethic” into our personal “religious ethic” as well. We tell ourselves, if we pray more, God will give us more.

It’s not a new idea. It’s an idea going all the way back to the Prophet Hosea whose words we heard in the first Reading from today. “In their affliction, people will say: ‘Let us know, let as STRIVE to know the Lord; as certain as the dawn is his coming, and his judgment shines forth like the light of day! He will come to us like the rain, like spring rain that waters the earth.’” But what does Hosea say is God’s reply? The Prophet, speaking on behalf of God responds: “What can I do with you people? Your piety is like a morning cloud, like the dew that early passes away. … It is love that I desire, not sacrifice, and knowledge of God rather than holocausts.”

In no uncertain terms, Yahweh told those he loved, he did not want, nor need, the sacrifice of animals and the other burnt offerings of holocausts. He did not want superficial demonstrations of piety which vanish into the air as moisture evaporates in the heat of day. Instead, Yahweh told those he loved that indeed, he had loved them into existence and all he desired was for them to love him in return. To love him, by loving one another. Not because they earned or merited his love. Not because others earned love by doing things for one another. God’s love is unconditional. He loves those he created without demanding they do anything to merit his love. He asks the same for those he created out of his love – to love one another because they are creations of his love and not because they earn the love of one another. It is said: God loved us first. Our loving Him should come in response to His love of us. What we offer to Him and to others should be given in gratitude for His love, and not as an attempt to earn his love.

We heard similar words in today’s reading from the Gospel of Matthew. We heard how there were those who asked Jesus’ followers: “Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?” They were, in fact, asking how can he gather with those who do not merit his attention. With those who are the riffraff, the dregs of our society? With those who consort with our enemies, the Romans, and work on their behalf? With those who do not exhibit our own kind of piety in how we follow the teachings of God? How can be break bread with those who are not righteous, who haven’t made it in the sight of God?

The disciples did not need to reply to the question, for Jesus, himself, responded with the words echoing those of God: “‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice.’” Mercy. A gift given not because it is earned, not because it is merited, but rather a gift given because it is the right thing, the loving thing to do. It is a gift which is not the result of a pious act, an act performed in an attempt to appease God. It is not offered to make God change his mind and react favorably.

The Lord does not demand a superficial action to gain his love. Instead, he desires that we love unselfishly, without requiring anything in exchange. Mercy means loving those who hate you, those who abuse you. It means loving your worst enemies, no matter what they have done to you. It means loving others without waiting for them to do the “right thing,” without their needing to earn your love in order for you to treat them well. And it’s not easy to do.

Each of us is self-righteous. Each of us believes we do the right thing for the right reason. We believe we repay kindness with kindness. But we also repay ingratitude with our own ingratitude. When a car suddenly pulls in front of us, we don’t let the driver into our line without thinking we are being taken advantage of. When a store clerk is rude, we react with our own rudeness, without considering what a rotten day the clerk might have been having. When we see a street-corner beggar, we wonder why he’s not employed and working like we are working. When we hear about those who have no insurance or cannot pay for needed medicine, we say that’s their tough luck, I have no responsibility for changing the system. And when we read about the killing of Iraqis by insurgents, we wonder why they can’t learn to get along with one another as we do.

And each time, we feel righteous in our beliefs. We feel justified in our actions. Justified. To be right with God. To be aligned with God. It’s true my computer program will allow me to “right justify” or “left justify” my sentences. It will also allow me to use “full justification” in which each line is accurately spread out to fill the entire space between the two margins. But what program, what action allows me to be “fully justified” with God, to be aligned with God as completely as God wants me to be?

The answer, perhaps, can be found in the final words we heard Saint Paul address to the Romans in today’s Second Reading. He reminds us our Lord “was handed over for our transgressions and was raised for our justification.” It is not through our own merits that we are justified. It is not because of what we do here on earth that merits a reward in heaven. Rather, it is because of the love shown by Jesus the Christ that we are saved, we are rented, reconciled, with God, the Father, who sent him to us out of His love for us. It is through their love sent to us in the Holy Spirit we are able to return our love to the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Perhaps, we need to remember the words spoken by Jesus in the last line of today’s Gospel: “I did not come to call the righteous but sinners.” Perhaps, we all need to accept we are all “sinners,” we gather as a Church of Sinners who are in need of the mercy of God. A God who desires us each show mercy to others, a mercy given not because it is merited but, rather, because of our gratitude to the God who loves us, first.

Two thousand years ago, Jesus saw Matthew, a tax collector, doing his assigned work, collecting tolls from those bringing goods into the city. And while Matthew was continuing in his daily work, Jesus said to him: “‘Follow me.’ And he got up and followed him.” Today, we are invited to give up what we have been doing, all those actions which have been our attempts to earn our way in this world and, we believe, into the next. Today, when Jesus says: “Follow me,” can it, also, be said: “And WE got up and followed him?”

^{Tenth Sunday in Ordinary Time; June 5, 2005
Hos 6:3-16; Rom 4:18-25; Mt 9:9-13}

1. _{^{Two television reality shows were popular. Donald Trump at the end of his Apprentice would tell the losers, “You’re fired.” In the program Survivors, contestants were eliminated weekly. Basketball elimination games were played until the “final four” were selected for the semi-final games.}}

You don’t need to be a computer geek to answer today’s question. But it would be helpful if you know something about word processing on a computer. So, first of all, how many of you can type a letter on a computer? Do any of you use a typewriter, you know, that old machine where the input and output are done at the same time? Ok, so my real question is: On a computer, or even a typewriter, what do you mean by the term: “justification?” Yes, it relates to how the sentences are lined up.

With left justification, every line begins on the left side of the page. With right justification, the lines appear to be staggered, with the right-end of the line touching the right margin of the page rather than the left margin. And if you’re using a computer, even an old IBM Selectric, you can set it for “full justification” where the line is spread out and it goes all the way from the left margin to the right margin. So, “justification” refers to how sentences are aligned on the page, how they are correctly lined up the way you want them. And basically, that’s what we mean when we speak of “justification” and God. “Justification” means we are aligned with God, lined up with God, just as God intends us to be.

In the conclusion for today’s reading from Saint Paul’s Letter to the Romans we heard how “ … [Jesus] was handed over for our transgressions and was raised for our justification.” In other words, he was raised so that we could be made “right” with God, be aligned with God as God intends us to be. We also heard how Abraham “… did not doubt God’s promise in unbelief; rather, he was strengthened by faith and gave glory to God and was fully convinced that what [God] had promised he was also able to do. That is why it was credited to [Abraham] as righteousness.”

“Righteousness,” another word for “justification,” for being right with God, being in the condition which God desires us to be, the status in which God has made us to be – aligned with him. All of us hope to be “justified,” to be “righteous” with God. At the same time, each one of us does not want to be “self-righteous,” to appear to be aligned with God externally, but not internally. We do not want to appear to be pious by our outward actions while on the inside we remain hard of heart. We are to avoid external ritual in the form of sacrifices while bearing a stony heart.

In our first reading from the Book of the Prophet Hosea we heard God speak an admonition to the Israelites: “Your piety is like a morning cloud, like the dew that early passes away. … for it is love that I desire, not sacrifice, and knowledge of God rather than [burnt offerings.]”

In today’s Gospel reading, we heard how Matthew, a despised tax collector for the Roman authority, was called by Jesus. We heard how Jesus went to Matthew’s home and there Jesus sat down to eat with Matthew and other so-called “sinners.” We heard Jesus’ response to his critics when he said to them: “Those who are well do not need a physician, but the sick do. Go and learn the meaning of the words, ‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice.’ I did not come to call the righteous but sinners.”

Jesus said he came to call not the righteous, not those who are already aligned with God, but rather he came to call sinners, the sick who are in need of him. And what about us? What about you and me? Did Jesus come to call us? Are we, too, sinners? Consider for a moment, what the Israelites, and Jesus, meant by sin, and sinners. The Jewish concept of sin, we are told, means “to miss the mark.” It’s like an archer who aims at a target but misses the bull’s eye. A sinner is someone who fails to reach the target toward which the arrow was aimed. A sinner is someone who falls short of one’s goal. That includes me. It may also include you.

When we think of sin, we usually think of the “biggies, like murder or killing someone. And yes, taking the life of another person is very much a “biggie.” It’s possibly the biggest of all sins. Yet, what about taking away one’s spiritual life or emotional life? Am I also a sinner when I take away a person’s life through gossip, rumors and innuendos? Is it not a sin to engage in physical abuse, from torture through striking another person? Is it acceptable to participate in verbal or emotional abuse of another adult or of a child, killing a person’s spiritual and emotional life but leaving the wounded one unharmed physically?

And what about “self-abuse?” Can it be sinful to overindulge in alcohol? To take drugs? Or what about smoking, when you know it can lead to cancer, heart attack and stroke? Or what about taking away the family life of others? Is it sinful to enforce a policy which divides families, which can lead to the death of family relationships? Is it sinful to harm the life of society, itself, through my actions, or inactions, when it comes to pollution of the planet or the death of its living resources?

Again: “What is a sin?” A sin is missing the mark, falling short of the goal intended by God. It is living a life not aligned with what God has desired for me. And what does God desire for me?

Recall the words of the prophet Hosea who spoke on behalf of God: “ … it is love that I desire, not sacrifice, and knowledge of God rather than [burnt offerings.]” And Jesus, himself, responded: “I desire mercy, not sacrifice. I did not come to call the righteous but sinners.”

Love and mercy. Unconditional Love, for that is what mercy really means: to love without the love needing to be earned. Mercy is giving love even if the recipient does not deserve it. Even when we do not deserve it. Yes, Jesus the Christ calls each one of us. In one way or another each one of us is a sinner. Each one of us seeks the love and mercy of God. Each one of us is called to give our love and mercy to all those we encounter on our journey in life, our journey to become aligned with God, our journey to life everlasting.

^{10th Sunday in Ordinary Time; June 8, 2008
Hos 6:3-6; Rom 4:18-25; Mt 9:9-13}

My question for today relates to this particular time of the year. This question makes sense only in early June. My question is this: How many of you have attended a graduation within the last few weeks? Most of us have gone to at least one. For my wife and me, it was the graduation of one of our grandsons. And yes, believe it or not, we are too young to have a grandson graduating from either high school or college. No, his graduation exercise was at St Ann’s, upon completion of kindergarten! With the seven grandchildren we now have, I expect we’ll be attending a lot more graduations over the next years.

But what do we really mean by a “graduation?” As the word, itself, says: it’s a time for stepping out, a time to advance upward to a new level. It can be the time for the change from kindergarten to the new world of first grade. Or from high school or college to the world beyond the confines of academic learning. But most important, graduation marks the moment in time when we now must do what we’ve learned to do. A time to share with others what we have learned and experienced. A time to integrate our learning and experiencing so that we may grow, not only in knowledge, but also, in wisdom.

There’s another name for this process of stepping out, advancing to a new level, another name for this opportunity to share with others what we have learned and experienced. That other name is “evangelization.”

Evangelization. A word which literally means: spreading the good news. Good news. What is this good news we are to spread? It is this: the Kingdom of God has begun. The Reign of God has begun. This is what Jesus taught his disciples, his students. We are taught the same lessons.

We are, also, taught the risen son of God is with us now and each one of us is called forward, toward God. We are taught by the Holy Spirit, who was sent forth by the Father and the Son at that first Pentecost. We are taught we, too, are sent forth on a mission. Just as some two-thousand years ago, Jesus sent out his twelve students, we are sent out. And why are we sent out?

Our Gospel reading reminds us: “at the sight of the crowds, Jesus’ heart was moved with pity for them because they were troubled and abandoned, like sheep without a shepherd.” And so, he said to his disciples: “the harvest is abundant, but the laborers are few; so, ask the master of the harvest to send out laborers for his harvest.” And what did he ask his laborers, his students, to do? He said: “… make this proclamation: ‘the Kingdom of God is at hand.’ cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse lepers, drive out demons. Without cost you have received; without cost you are to give.”

We are reminded, once more, all we have, all we truly are, has been given to us by God and we are to share these gifts with others. Paul, in our Second Reading, reminds us it was not through our own merit the gift of eternal life was given to us but, rather, “ … while we were still sinners.” While we were still estranged and separated from God, it was then that “… Christ died for us … [so that] … we have now received reconciliation.” This is why each of us is sent forth: to help others recognize that this reconciliation has been gifted to us by God. And who are these “others?”

In today’s reading taken from the Gospel of Matthew, the disciples were not sent to the pagans who did not believe in God, nor to the Samaritans who believed in the same God as the Israelites but worshiped in a different way. No, instead, Jesus sent them to the lost sheep of his own people.

Often when we think of evangelization, images of Bible-thumping street preachers come into our minds. We focus on the first instruction Jesus gave to his twelve students: proclaim the good news. But there are those other instructions.
● The instruction to “cure the sick,” to attend to those lost sheep who are still in the process of giving up and turning away from God.
● The instruction to “raise the dead,” to attend to those lost sheep who have already given up and have turned away from God.
● The instruction to “cleanse lepers,” to attend to those lost sheep who seem to be beyond the reach of the community, who believe God has turned away from them.
● The instruction to “drive out demons,” to attend to those whose internal addictions to soul-devouring elements prevent them from returning to the God who calls to them.

All of these instructions are instructions for actions. Actions we are to undertake. Actions beginning with ourselves, for once again, it is not a matter of “do what I say” but rather “do what I do.” I must cure my own self-contempt, the belief I am not worthy of God’s love. My belief my body is not good enough: I’m too fat, too thin, too short, too tall. My belief my actions are not good enough: I don’t pray enough, I don’t help others enough. My belief that, because of my shortcoming, God cannot love me.

Just as I am called to cure myself of those parts of me which say I am not worthy of God’s love, I am called to raise the dead parts of myself: those parts which killed me, and others, through hatred. Parts of me that say: others are not worthy of either my love or God’s love, because they are of the wrong gender, the wrong color, the wrong age, the wrong economic class.

And with this healing of self, it is then time for me to step forward and heal others. Not merely by what I say, but equally, in what I do as a result of what God has done, not only for me but, also, within me. Not only must I speak of the kingdom, I must also act. The works of mercy are still needed. We are called to undertake the corporal works of mercy: feed the hungry, give drink to the thirsty, clothe the naked, shelter the homeless, visit the sick, visit the imprisoned and bury the dead. We are called to practice the spiritual works of mercy: counsel the doubtful, instruct the ignorant, admonish the sinner, comfort the sorrowful, forgive injuries, bear wrongs patiently and pray for the living and the dead

I began this reflection with a question about graduations. But now, as we remember all those who have participated in a formal graduation, now is the time to recall how the disciples were sent forth to put into practice what they learned from Jesus. We are, also, reminded in our First Reading from the Book of Exodus, the going forth of the Israelites from bondage to freedom, that the Lord God in his graduation speech to them reminded them “… how I bore you up on eagle wings and brought you here to myself.”

We, too, have been born up on eagle wings. We remember God has entered into our lives and the lives of others. Each of us must acknowledge this event. Yes, we are to go beyond the mere knowledge held in our heads and acknowledge with our hearts we are loved by God. A God who now asks us to step forward and put into practice what we continue to learn. A God who calls us to our own graduation.

^{Eleventh Sunday in Ordinary Time; June 13, 1999
Ex 19:2-6a; Rom 5:6-11; Mt 9:36-10/8}

Today’s question is a personal one. It’s this: What kind of a motivational talk¹ turns you on? Maybe this question seems even stranger than some of the other ones I’ve asked you over the years. I mean, isn’t this the whole purpose of a motivational talk, a pep talk: to “turn you on,” to make you excited, more willing to do something than is your normal inclination?

There’s a whole TV industry devoted to motivational talks. We usually call them “infomercials.” But for me, personally, there are a lot of infomercials that turn me off. They make me want to stay away from even looking at the product, let alone buy it. It would seem, what turns one person on, what motivates one person toward an action, can also turn off someone else. Jesus may have experienced this problem some two thousand years ago when he gave his own form of an “infomercial,” a pep talk.

How many of you recognize the Gospel passage we heard today is the conclusion of an “infomercial” Jesus gave to his disciples? How many realize it’s part of a motivational talk, a pep talk, he gave to the Twelve just before he sent them out on their mission to the “lost sheep of the house of Israel?” Well, it is.

Today’s passage brings to a conclusion the chapter of Matthew’s Gospel usually referred to as the “great commissioning of the Disciples.” Remember two weeks ago when Fr. Sunny spoke about how Jesus sent them out to “… cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse lepers, drive out demons” … and how we are called to do the same in the modern world. And in last week’s Gospel we heard the words: “do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul.”

There are many passages in this Chapter from Matthew’s Gospel that are omitted from the Sunday Readings. Passages describing what actions the Disciples should take and what they should expect on their missionary work. After he tells them not to take any provisions with them, but to go off without any money, food or a change of clothes, Jesus has this to say: “Behold, I am sending you like sheep in the midst of wolves; so be shrewd as serpents and simple as doves. But beware of people, for they will hand you over to courts and scourge you … and you will be led before governors and kings for my sake as a witness before them and the pagans.” He goes on to say: “You will be hated by all because of my name, but whoever endures to the end will be saved. When they persecute you in one town, flee to another.”

And then he speaks the words we heard in today’s Reading: “Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me. Whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me. Whoever does not take up his cross and follow after me is not worthy of me. Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.” These are, indeed, harsh words from a Master who is trying to motivate, to encourage, his followers, to do what he has done, to follow in his footstep.

Basically, he’s telling them: you must be ready to give up all relationships that bind you to this world, that bind you to past generations, that bind you to future offspring. He goes on to tell them: you must be ready to suffer like a common criminal hung upon a cross. He does, however, go on to inform them: some will hear you as prophets and they will be rewarded, some will hear you as holy people and they, too, will be rewarded. And some may merely give you a cold drink of water and they, too, will be rewarded. So, here we have Jesus’ commissioning speech, when he said, in effect: go out there and preach what I’ve taught you and here are the hardships you can expect. And your only tangible reward might be a drink of water.

However, I still say this is a kind of “pep talk.” After all, isn’t this what a lot of coaches tell their players. Go out there and do battle. We’re going to get badly beaten up. But get out there and show them what we’re made of, what we stand for. OK, so maybe that’s what he told his twelve disciples in order to motivate them. But that was then. And this is now. Does Jesus really mean the same thing for us? Does this “pep talk” apply to us?

Well, if we believe the rest of his words should guide us today, in 2005, then I think we’re forced to accept these words spoken to his followers some two-thousand years ago are equally relevant to us, right now. As with the disciples, we have been given the message to preach, to preach through our words and our actions.

We know what is right and what is wrong. But are we afraid to speak or to act, because we fear, not scourging and being hung on a cross, but rather, we fear rejection? Rejection not necessarily by those who love us, not by our parents and children, so much as rejection by those around us, by our acquaintances, by society. Rejection not necessarily because of our belief and behavior about major events, but about the everyday events of our lives.

When we hear a joke about a minority member or hear an ethnic slur, do we laugh in order to be part of the group or do we have the courage to say, “That’s really not funny” and risk the possible rejection of the one who said it and those around us? When we learn a friend is having an extramarital affair, do we look the other way or do we ask how can we help to get the marriage back on track, and risk being told to mind our own business? When a young person is out on a date and wonders just how far does my partner expect me to go, do we have the courage to stop before we go too far, even if we think our partner may reject us for being too cautious?

In today’s world, a lot is said in derision about being “politically correct,” how the “liberal establishment” tries to force us into “political correctness.” Yet do we have the courage to point out that much of political correctness includes a respect for diversity and individual rights, and an awareness of the needs of the underprivileged and the marginalized? Do we dare to say the goals of “political” correctness may be the same as those for “Christian” correctness?

And if this last example, or any of them, for that matter, make you angry, then perhaps you understand what I mean by Jesus’ pep talk. What motivates one person to act may turn off another person. Some of us are motivated by righteous anger when we see what we perceive as a moral decline in our society, when we believe we must take up the sword in order to preserve freedom. Others are equally motivated by love and passive resistance on issues of armament, capital punishment, environmental concerns, civil rights, pro-life, the underprivileged and the disadvantaged.

Some of us are motivated by passion, others by compassion. But each one of us must be motivated, moved to act, as a Christian, a follower of Jesus the Christ. Here in this year dedicated to the Eucharist, we must become Eucharist for others. We are to become what we consume at this celebration, at this table. We are sent out on our individual missions, but united as members of the Body of Christ, as members of his Church, as his Disciples.

We may suffer the rejection of all those around us, even, in the long run, rejection by those we love. Yet, we need to ask: How can we be motivated today to preach by our words and by our own actions what we have been taught, knowing we risk being rejected? And our only reward in this life on earth may be a cold drink of water.

^{Thirteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time; June 26, 2005
2 Kg 4:8-11,14-16a; Rom 6L3-4l8-11; Mt 10:37-42}

1…The original homily given June 27, 1993, was entitled “Pep Talk.” The opening and closing lines were modified whereas most of the rest the homily remains the same for “Infomercial.”
My question for you today is one you may need to think about for a while before you can answer it. But that’s OK, since this question is the focus for this morning’s homily. My question is this: What kind of a pep talk do you need to motivate you to be an active disciple of Jesus the Christ? Pep talks? Motivational talks? What do pep talks and motivation have to do with the Gospel message? Aren’t they part of either winning football teams or of late-night TV pitches for pyramid sales? It’s either “win one for the Gipper!” or “if you get out there and hustle, and get all of your friends to join us, then you, too, can be a million-dollar seller.” Well, pep talks, motivational talks, existed long before Knute Rochne or Lou Holtz*. In fact, they go all the way back to the days of the original “Notre Dame,” some two-thousand years ago. In today’s Gospel reading, we hear the conclusion of her son’s pep talk to his followers. In fact, because it is the conclusion, the wind-up of an impassioned pep talk, we could have become very disturbed, rather than challenged to be one of his followers, his disciples, when we heard the words he spoke to them:
……..

How then, can we be motivated today to preach by our words and our actions what we have been taught, knowing we risk being rejected? For this is what it was about then … and now. Do we still hear the words of Christ when we speak out for justice and equality, knowing we may be rejected? Or when you come to the aid of the underprivileged, are you ready to be attacked? Are you ready to be rewarded by only a cold drink of water? At the same time, do you recognize that those who do listen to what you say will share in greater rewards, the gifts of prophets and holy ones? So once more I ask you my question: What kind of pep talk do you need to motivate you to be an active disciple of Jesus the Christ?

* I have the good fortune to be a fraternity brother of Lou Holtz (Kent State chapter of Delta Upsilon) back in the mid-50's.  He was “motivational” back then, too!

This past week we celebrated Independence Day, the Fourth of July, with all of its patriotic pageantry. And so, today, I have a question for you about a very important component of our country – our money. My question is this: In addition to the words “The United States of America,” what words can be found on each and every coin in your pocket and on each and every piece of currency in your wallet? Yes, they are: “In God We Trust.” It would appear, however, there are people in this country who, while they have no problem carrying these words in their pockets, find it troublesome, if not unconstitutional, to speak them in public.¹

Perhaps, it’s a good thing our “Declaration of Independence” was written before our Constitution, since there might be some who would maintain this Declaration is “unconstitutional.” After all, the opening sentence of this Declaration makes reference to “… the laws of nature and of nature’s God …” This Declaration even goes on to state: “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness …”

These words were written some two and a quarter centuries ago to declare our independence from a country that had placed us under the yoke of tyranny, a yoke of “taxation without representation,” one of several unreasonable burdens. Today’s Gospel reading speaks of a different kind of yoke, a different kind of burden.

Jesus, himself, knew of the many burdens of those who listened to him: their personal burdens, their political burdens and their religious burdens. He, also, realized God knew of these burdens, as well. Jesus remembered that when the Israelites, many generations ago, had been burdened by the Egyptians, they called out to the Lord God who sent them a leader, a savior named Moses. Moses led them out of bondage into the Promised Land. Through Moses the Israelites received the laws of God. They received Torah: the Way, the Law which would ease their burdens. Originally, it was said the “yoke of Torah” joined the Israelites with their God. But over time, the Law, itself, became a burden. It took away their freedom. It bound them in meaningless rituals. Now the Law, itself, had become a burden.

Once again, God heard their cries and sent a “new” Moses, but one even mightier than Moses. God sent his only son, Jesus the Anointed One, Jesus the Christ. God sent him, not as a new conqueror, not as someone who would take away the burden of foreign occupation by the Romans. Instead, the Lord God sent a “just” savior, one who is meek, one who is humble enough to ride on a small donkey, and not on a war chariot.

God sent one whose very person reveals the nature of God not to the wise and learned ones, not to those in power but, rather, to those who can see in this human form the revelation of God, the Father. God sent not a royal king, but, rather, a humble carpenter. He sent a man who knew, first-hand, about yokes and burdens.

Scripture scholars remind us that a major product made by carpenters was a yoke. And these were not mass-produced yokes. Each yoke was one-of-a-kind. The carpenter measured both the yoke and the oxen obliged to carry it to make sure the yoke fit properly and would not be a burden to the animal carrying it. Humans also carried yokes – yokes with buckets on them for hauling water and farm produce, yokes for primitive ploughs needed to make the fields ready to receive the seeds. Yes, all of these yokes needed to fit those who bore them for their daily tasks. Yokes were required, but they, themselves, must not add to the hardship of the tasks. And, so, when Jesus saw his friends laboring under the yoke of a Law which no longer freed them, he urged them: “Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart; and you will find rest for yourselves. For my yoke is easy, and my burden light.”

Jesus speaks these same words to us. He knows we, too, are burdened by life, by personal needs and communal tasks. However, as a carpenter who fashioned yokes, Jesus also knows those who are yoked together have an easier time of it than those who carry their loads separately. Therefore, the yoke he offers to us is a double yoke, carried by two rather than by one, alone. Yes, he fashions a new yoke for us. A yoke made from the wood of the cross he carried. A cross he asks us to carry as well. For this cross is shared as the yoke is shared.

In the Second Reading we heard today, St Paul reminded the Romans, and reminds us: the spirit of God dwells in us, the spirit gives us life and we are joined together in the spirit of God. Yes, we have our burdens to carry, our tasks to accomplish, but they are ones we do not carry alone. The spirit of God joins us together. Jesus the Christ assures us that, joined with him, our burden is light.

A few minutes ago, we recalled how we carry coins and bills bearing the words: “In God We Trust.” There are, however, other words found in common on all of our coins, and on the one-dollar bill, words we need to remember as well, not only during this week of our Fourth of July, but also in the days ahead of us. These are Latin words: “e pluribus unum. – One from many.” They speak of our diversity and how we join together. How we join together into one nation, under God. How we, though many, join together into the one body of Christ.

^{14th Sunday in ordinary time; July 7, 2002
Zech 9:9-10; Rom 8:9, 11-13; Mt 11:25-30}

1. _{^{Two years later, in the political campaign for the 2004 national election, the general public, in fact, began to discuss, sometimes vehemently, the Constitutionality of the words referenced in this homily. I lost track of the e-mails in my inbox pointing out how our money and our documents as well as our Pledge of Allegiance refer to God, to say nothing of those in favor (or not) of allowing copies of the Ten Commandments to appear on public grounds.}}

T’was brillig, and the slithy toves
did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogroves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

If you remember your Lewis Carroll and his Through the Looking Glass, you’ll recall Alice asked Humpty Dumpty for his interpretation of this poem called, “Jabberwocky.” I’m not, however, going to ask you what it means. So, why would I begin today’s reflection by quoting a poem which needs a personal interpretation? I did it in an attempt to let you feel as puzzled as the disciples of Jesus might have felt some two thousand years ago.¹

Just as you hear the words of “Jabberwocky” without really understanding them, the followers of Jesus heard him without understanding his words. But unlike Humpty Dumpty, who made up the meaning of words to suit his own pleasure, Jesus tried to give his companions an explanation which might bring them nearer to the Kingdom of God. Yet, there is still difficulty for us, some twenty centuries later, in truly understanding what he meant. This is, then, to be the focus for today’s reflection: How do we make sense out of the parables of Jesus?

First of all, what is a parable? Many Christians would say they are stories Jesus used in order to get his followers thinking about the Kingdom of God. There is nothing wrong with that answer. Except, it suggests Jesus originated the idea of teaching with parables. But he didn’t. The parable was a common form of teaching used by all rabbis. It’s said there are some two-thousand rabbinic parables. So, why did rabbis use parable stories?

The answer to this question relies upon another set of questions. How do you feel when you hear a parable of Jesus? Do you hear a story in which you see yourself in a new light? That’s the real purpose of a rabbinic parable: a story where the listener concludes that what is being talked about really applies to him, even though he did not originally think the point of the story affected him at all.

A parable is a very real story, one you can personally identify with. It’s not a fable or fairy tale with talking animals and impossible situations. There are other kinds of literary devices which are not really “parables.” Allegories are one. When Jesus speaks about himself and says, “I am the vine and you are the branches,” he’s using an allegory, not a parable. Along with allegories, there are also similes. During the next few weeks, we’ll hear quite a number of them in the Gospel readings. In each case, Jesus tries to tell us something about the reign of God. Things such as:
“The reign of God is like a mustard seed …
“The reign of God is like yeast …
“The reign of God is like buried treasure …
“The reign of God is like a merchant’s search for fine pearls
“The reign of God is like a dragnet thrown into a lake …
“The reign of God is like the head of a household who can bring from his storeroom both the new and the old.”

Usually, Jesus does not try to explain his stories. In fact, some scholars maintain Jesus, himself, did not explain any of his parables, including today’s parable about the seed, but the interpretation was added by the early Christian community when the Gospel stories were written down.

Actually, if you are familiar with the Gospels of Matthew, Mark and Luke, you may be confused by the interpretation you heard in today’s reading. A few moments ago, we all heard the familiar parable about the sower who went out to sow some seed and the different soils where it fell. In order to interpret the meaning of this story, we might all agree the sower is God. But what about the seed? Your immediate response might be the “seed” is “the word of God,” and we are the “soil.” How many of you believe this is what Jesus said when he gave the interpretation we heard a few minutes ago?

Well, you would be correct, if the Gospel reading had been the one taken from either the book of Mark or of Luke. In Chapter Four of Mark’s Gospel, when the disciples ask for an explanation, the response of Jesus is: “What the sower is sowing is the word.” And in Chapter Eight of Luke, the response of Jesus is: “This is the meaning of the parable. The seed is the word of God.” But today’s reading is from Matthew’s Gospel. Here the response of Jesus is: “the seed along the path is the man who hears the message about God’s reign without understanding it. The seed that fell on patches of rock is the man who hears the message and at first receives it with joy … but falters. (The seed) sown among briers is the man who hears the message … but (things of this world) choke it off. (And finally … the seed) sown on good soil is the man who hears the message and takes it in. He it is who bears a yield a hundred- or sixty- or thirty-fold.”

So, what is the “correct” interpretation? What is the seed? What is the soil? Do you see yourself as the seed, actively growing, maturing, struggling to survive, yielding fruit? Or do you see yourself, and others, as the passive soil with different environmental conditions, so that what becomes of the word of God, the seed which falls upon you, is not really up to you? After all, if you are rocky soil, how can you become good soil? Or must the soil, indeed, remain passive? Can the rocks be pulverized, and their rich nutrients be released so that the seed, the word of God, can grow within your spirit?

And what about the sower? Is this really God, the Father? Does he scatter his seed willy-nilly, not caring where it lands? Why would he knowingly scatter it on the path where birds can consume it? Why on the rocks or among thorns? He doesn’t seem like a very efficient farmer.

What is the effect of the wind? Do external forces control where the seed falls? If you are the seed, what responsibility do you have for your own choices? Are you controlled by those around you? By the events of your life? Could it be that you, rather, than God, are the sower? And the seeds are your own actions, what you do, or fail to do?

The people who lived some two thousand years ago had a completely different idea of agriculture than we do, today. There was no concept of simple crop rotation, for example. The idea of using different fields every few years for crop rotation, did not come into practice until the Middle Ages. Fertilizer was manure obtained directly from the source, not the right ratio of nitrogen, phosphorus, potassium and other trace minerals. Does that mean, that in order to interpret the parables of Jesus, we must continue to think like men and women of the first centuries of the Christian era?

A few minutes ago, I began this reflection with “Jabberwocky,” with words which have strange sounds. Instead, I could have said: “It’s about four o’clock in the afternoon — the time when you begin broiling things for dinner, and the active, slimy creatures, which look like a hybrid of a badger and a lizard with a corkscrew head, were tumbling like gyroscopes and poking holes in the grass around a sundial.” Instead, I said: “t’was brillig and the slithy toves did gyre and gimble in the wabe.” To interpret the line, I used the meanings given by a silly character called Humpty Dumpty.

For some people, the parables of Jesus may be as confusing as Jabberwocky. And some might ask for a straightforward interpretation of what each word means. They seek a so-called “correct” or literal meaning for the words. So, finally, what is the “correct” interpretation for this parable about sower, seeds and soil, or for that matter, what is the “correct” interpretation of any parable of Jesus?

For one thing, it’s not any interpretation I might give. It may not even be one the early Christian community gave when the Gospels were written down. The only “true” interpretation of a parable comes from what is revealed in your own heart.²

You must put yourself in the presence of God. You, yourself, must respond to what you hear. You, yourself, must be changed by that response. But you need not do this alone. You have the help of God.

Listen once more, to the first reading we heard from the book of the prophet Isaiah who spoke to us about the help of God in our lives: “Just as from the heavens, the rain and snow come down And do not return there till they have watered the earth, making it fertile and fruitful, giving seed to the one who sows and bread to the one who eats, so shall my word be that goes forth from my mouth; it shall not return to me void, but shall do my will, achieving the end for which I sent it.”³

^{Fifteenth Sunday in Ordinary; July 15, 1990
Is 55:10-11; Rom 8:18-23; Mt 13:1-23}

1. At this time there were several members of the congregation who had a hearing impediment. Each Sunday they sat in the first pew, directly in front of the homilist. An interpreter sat facing them and used ASL to sign all of the Mass, including the homily. As I began today’s homily, I noticed the interpreter was having a problem. Afterwards, I inquired how she signed the opening lines. Her reply: “I signed I couldn’t understand anything he’s saying and just waited until I could.” Afterwards, I gave an advance copy of my homilies to her!
2. Not everyone agrees with this point of view. The following day I received a letter stating: “Dear Mr. Camerino: Last evening, my husband and I heard your Homily during 5:30 Mass, and I was frankly shocked by the phrase with which you chose to end your ‘reflection.’ To paraphrase that particular remark would be something like the fact that each of us ‘may interpret Scriptures within our own hearts’ or words to that effect. First of all, I don’t believe that our Church has suddenly or even gradually endorsed self-interpretation of the Scriptures. From my own knowledge, I believe self-interpretation of Scriptures is a major tenet of the Protestant persuasion and one of their major objections to the Catholic Faith. I was always taught that the Magisterium, Theologians, priests, and people otherwise trained in Catholic Theology were those to whom we the laity looked for the Holy Mother Church’s guidance in interpretation of Scripture. To me, your remark is heretical. I was so distracted and shocked, I couldn’t concentrate on praying.
   “However, nothing should surprise me anymore during Mass in CGS. Every week an innovation is attempted with the express purpose to distract the faithful from prayer and contemplation. I found your remark very offensive, and I left church very sad indeed. I am sad because so many good Catholic people have only the Homily on Sunday as their guide for their Faith, and remarks such as yours only serve to mislead. Many people do not read or educate themselves. I am fortunate because I am a well-educated woman, and I also keep myself informed through much reading of sound Catholic material. Do you realize that many people in those pews hear what you say and take it to heart? Your position enables you to be a teacher, and your word is taken to be true. What you said last night was false, period.
   “I shall continue to pray for a return to Orthodoxy in this parish even though my family and I are moving out of state. I look forward to the move with great joy because I am returning to a place where true Catholic orthodoxy is still alive. God bless you. Sincerely, [MEL]”
3. However at least two members of the congregation seem to have gotten something positive from the homily. At that time the parish made use of Homily Resource Teams (HRTs). Each HRT had about five or six members who met with the homilist for a reflection on the Sunday Scriptures several weeks before the homily was to be given. Following the homily, another HRT would offer written comments about the presentation. The question form stated: “The feedback on the homily is descriptive (‘what I heard’); it is not evaluative (‘what I liked or didn’t like’) or judgmental (‘this was good,’ ‘that was not good’). So in a descriptive way please answer the following questions … 1.) What was the message you heard in this homily? 2.) What connection(s) were there between the homily and the gospel and scripture readings? 3.) What connection or application to your life did you see or hear in the homily? 4.) Please add any other comments that you want to make about the homily.”

Two responses were received for this homily. A.) “1.) We are the seed – able to provide zero or 30-fold or 100-fold. The power to do so is not so much our own as it is the Lord working in us (as rain works and produces what it is supposed to). 2.) Explicit attention/explanation of parable in gospel and inclusion of Old Testament reading to highlight message. 3) We are the seed – we have a proactive role rather than a passive one. It is up to us to make sense of the parable rather than passively accept some explanation from others or dismiss parable as jabberwalky. 4.) Jabberwalky was a powerful illustration to make/support the point. Hit a key issue head-on: what is the seed? The word of God? Us? Was there a reference to eyes that do not see and ears that do not hear? I could have missed this but it tied to your focus: that we ourselves have responsibility to make sense of parable and then be productive.” [K] B) “1.) Understanding of parables is a personal thing. It is our response to a parable that is important. 2.) The ‘seed’ can be the word of God or the seed can be man or the seed can be our action – what we do with it after hearing the parable. 3.) I feel much better about my response to the parables after hearing your homily. I now understanding (sic) that having a different response and understanding of a parable at different times in my life or in reading of a parable is OK. [MS]”