Author: patcamerino

For the last several weeks I’ve been asking questions about childhood. I asked about whether a circus is a place or an event and how the reign of God might be how we act right now rather than being a kingdom we hope to see someday. I asked about whether there are monsters under the bed and how to confront them with our own friendly tiger. Now I have another question which goes back to our childhood.

The question is this: When you were a child, did you play the “What if – game?”
● What if I step on a crack, will I break my mother’s back?
● What if I’m really extra good, will I get a bike for my birthday?
And as we got older, the what if’s changed and became somewhat open-ended.
● What if I drink a beer …
● What if I make out in the back seat of the car …
And adults are not immune to the what if game.
● What if I run this red light …
● What if I cheat on my income tax …
And, yes, some of the what if’s could have been positive.
● What if I study extra hard for this test …
● What if I put aside a few bucks every week for an emergency …
What if’s are like that. Positive or negative. Sometimes both.
● What will happen if …
● What will not happen if …
We can play the what if game on even a larger scale.
● What if the US had not dropped two atom bombs on Japan 60 years ago?
● What if the US had not invaded Iraq two years ago?

The what if game is not a new one. It existed over two thousand years ago, back in the time of Jeremiah, who wondered what if he had not allowed himself to be, as he said, “duped” by God. What if he had not allowed himself to be fooled into speaking for God and, as a result, being flogged and imprisoned because of his unwelcome prophesies? Or what if Jesus had heeded the tempting words of Peter and not gone to Jerusalem?

In today’s gospel, Jesus told Peter and his companions that the one Peter had just called the Messiah, the anointed one of God, must go to Jerusalem “… to suffer greatly … to be killed, and on the third day to be raised.” What if Jesus had not died on a cross and be raised again? What if there had been no “Last Supper?” What if the Eucharist had not been left to us? What if Jesus still has a physical body and resides in Jerusalem in the temple there? Or perhaps in Buckingham Palace, or in the still-standing World Trade Center in New York City?

Oh yes, the “what if game” can become rather fascinating. And totally unreal. We know what really happened. We know Jesus did sacrifice his own life so we could have life. We know he did leave us his Body and Blood so we, too, could become his body and blood. We know that through our actions, he has lived on in the world into the third millennium after his death and resurrection. We know he is not confined to a single building anywhere on this planet but lives in the hearts of each one who inhabits this world.

And there are those of us who know what he meant when he said, “For the Son of Man will come with his angels in his Father’s glory, and then he will repay all according to his conduct.” And what is this conduct which will be rewarded? It is the conduct of doing what we know should be done, what must be done. Some call it the “carrying of one’s cross.” But what is this cross? Is it something under which we shudder? Something we fear? Or is it something we embrace?

A few weeks ago, Fr John spoke about the sign of the cross we make on our mind, on our lips and on our heart. As little children, we were taught to make the Sign of the Cross … “In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.” We do not shudder under this sign of the cross. We acknowledge it, not for the death of hope, but for the birth of hope. It is a sign of Passion, a sign of Love. It signifies the action of our Savior and the action to which he calls us.

He calls us to new questions of “what if?” What if I become my brother’s keeper? What if I love my neighbor as myself? He calls us to positive responses to this new game, this adult game of “what if?”

After today’s celebration of his own sacrifice and resurrection, after this liturgy, we are once again provided with opportunities to play the adult what if game. What if, upon leaving this building today, I jump in the car and merely return home? Or what if I go to the large hall across the plaza and see how I might join with others in living out the reign of God?
● What if I check off a couple boxes on this Ministry Form?
● What if I become a greeter, a lector? What if I distribute his consecrated body and blood to others?
● What if I take an active part in faith formation?
● What if I join with others in prayer?
● What if I become his hands for delivering care to others? Social justice to others? Peace to others?
●What if I become a steward for Christ?
What if …?

^{22nd Sunday in Ordinary Time; August 28, 2005 (Ministry or Stewardship Sunday)
Jer 20:7-9; Rom 12:1-2; Mt 16:21-27}

Here we are once more. It’s Labor Day weekend, the unofficial end of summer. For many people this weekend also signifies a beginning, the beginning of a new year. While January 1 is the official New Year’s Day, for me, and, perhaps, for many of you, the real New Year begins with the end of summer vacations and a return to school, whether it’s elementary, secondary or college. So, with school in mind, I have a history question for you. My question is this: When did Labor Day become a legal holiday in the U.S.?

The answer may surprise you. It was 1894, some 99 years ago! It was a time when the labor movement was taking root both here and in Europe, a time when a man by the name of Karl Marx was writing about capitalism, and when Pope Leo XXIII was writing about labor and capital. You might ask, what, if anything, do today’s readings for the twenty-third Sunday of Ordinary time, have to do with Labor Day? Just this: Labor Day was created as a celebration of the solidarity of the working class, a holiday for the new community of workers.

Today’s readings speak of another community, one called ekklesia, the gathering of those who are called forth or, in English, “the church.” Therefore, it seems reasonable for the focus for today’s homily to be: How are we called to love within the Christian community, within the community called together under the name of our leader, Jesus the Christ? That’s the question for today: How are we called to love within the Christian community?

Today’s Gospel Reading is taken from the eighteenth chapter of Matthew’s writings, from a section called the “Jesus’ discourse, or sermon, on the church.” His discourse began with a question. (So, you see, my use of questions to begin a homily is not my own idea! It goes back to the greatest of all teachers.) And what was the question? In Matthew’s gospel, it came from the disciples who asked: “Who is the greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven?” Jesus replied by calling a child over to the group and saying those who would be childlike would enter the Kingdom of Heaven.

Then he goes on to talk about those who would lead others astray and how they might as well be thrown into the fires of Gehenna, which was the dump-heap just outside of Jerusalem, where all of the trash was continually burned. But what about the one who was not lead astray, but wandered off on his own? Jesus continued with his story of the ninety-nine sheep who stayed in the flock and the shepherd who went in search of the lost one, the one who wandered away. He spoke of the rejoicing when the lost sheep was found and returned to the community of the flock.

We have two stories about entering the Kingdom of Heaven. First, don’t lead anyone astray. Second, if someone leaves on his own, go in search of him. This brings us to today’s reading, which addresses a third consideration: what responsibility do you have before the sheep wanders away from the flock, before the brother or sister leaves the community?

First of all, you need to talk with him on a one-to-one basis to try to help him see where he’s going wrong, to help him get back on the right track. And if you fail in this, and it looks like the person is still going to leave the community through his own harmful actions, then it’s time to get some help. First, from a few close friends who can help you testify to what is right, to tell it like it is. And if that fails, to get help from the rest of the community-at-large, from the gathering, the ekklesia, from the church. What if all this fails? Then what? Then it’s time to bite the bullet and let him go on his way to self-destruction.

We heard this course of action right from the start, from the time of the prophet Ezekiel, and today’s First Reading. If you do not speak out to dissuade the wicked man from his way, he shall die for his wicked actions, but God will hold you responsible for his death. However, if you warn the wicked man, trying to turn him from his wrongful way, and he refuses to turn from it, he shall die for his own actions, but you shall save yourself.

Here’s a modern-day example of what Ezekiel was talking about. Consider what happens in the case of a friend who drinks too much and wants to drive home. You offer to drive him home or call a cab, like the public service announcements say. Or you even swipe his car keys. On the other hand, what if he has a second set of keys, jumps in the car and crashes into a tree? Most would agree if you didn’t try to warn him and do something to help, you share in the responsibility for the accident. Nevertheless, trying and failing is vastly different from not trying at all.

And so it is with the person who chooses any path of self-destruction. We are called to help him see it is self-destructive, to see this through our own efforts and with the help of others in the community. But, sometimes, we need to follow what is now called “tough love,” and let the person go, to allow the person to assume the self-responsibility for his own actions and their consequences.

Some would hear today’s Gospel Reading and find justification for forcing the wrongdoer out of the community. After all, is that not what is meant by Jesus’ instruction ” … treat him as you would a gentile or a tax collector.” The Jews shunned such people, they were outside the community. However, at the same time, there is a parallel question: How did Jesus, himself, treat sinners and tax collectors? Although they were outside the community, he continued to invite them back into it. The door to his fellowship meals was always open to those who repented, who changed their ways and asked to be forgiven. Yes, forgiveness is the focus for next week’s gospel.

Today’s homily, as I said earlier, is to focus on how we are called to love within the Christian community. How we are to help those who are in danger of leaving the protection of the flock. How we are to provide assistance so they can change their ways. Sometimes, however, we must recognize we also need to engage in “tough love” and allow the other person the freedom to wander away. Even when we are tempted to say, since I’ve done so much for you, I am owed something in return. I am owed to be loved back. You are obligated to love me, to do what I want. But this kind of relationship is not love.

Love remains a gift. It demands nothing in return. However, true love calls forth a response. A response to love in return. A gift from the lover to the beloved encourages a gift from the beloved to the lover. Not because of any obligation or demand, but rather, because the natural response to love, is love.

This weekend is the national celebration of Labor Day, a holiday for the community of workers. Yet, any day can be made into a type of “Labor Day” celebration. Here’s a final question for you: What is a “Labor of Love?” Is it not a gift prepared without any expectation of a return, a work done for its own satisfaction or to please another, the one we love? Perhaps, each of us is called to make every day a “Labor of Love” Day, one in which our actions, our works, our labors are to be gifts for others.

^{Twenty-third Sunday in Ordinary; September 5, 1993
Ezek 33:7-9; Rom 13:8-10; Mt 18:15-20}

My question for today is about questions and about the Bible. My question is this: In the Old Testament who was the first being to ask a question? Ok, the giveaway is the word “being,” because the answer is “the snake, Satan,” who asked Eve: “Did God really tell you not to eat from any of the trees in the garden?” As a result of that question, the Lord God asked several others of Adam and Eve. Such as: “Where are you?” (when Adam and Eve were hiding from him.) And … “who told you that you were naked?” And, of course, the main question: “Why did you do such a thing?”

But now I have a follow-up question. It’s this: What was the first question asked by a human being? It was a question asked by Cain when the Lord God asked him where Able, his brother, was. In response to the Lord God’s question, Cain replied with his own question: “Am I my brother’s keeper?”

And that is a question which mankind has been asking ever since: “Am I my brother’s keeper?” What responsibility do I have for the welfare of others around me? Must I watch out for the interests of those who are not related to me by blood? This weekend we celebrate one national response to these questions. Monday is the public holiday established a century ago, in 1894, to honor the solidarity of laborers and of labor unions. It began back in the days of a German philosopher by the name of Karl Marx who wrote about capitalism and, more important for us, back in the time of Pope Leo XIII, who wrote about the rights of laborers and the dignity of work.

Yes, the responses to this question, “Am I my brother’s keeper?” come from many sources. They can be heard, in part, in all of today’s readings. In the first reading from the book of the prophet Ezekiel, we heard about the demands made by the Lord God on a prophet who must serve in the role of an appointed watchman.

Back then, the watchman, high on the city tower, stood guard during the night to call out a warning if he spied an internal danger, such as a fire, or the external danger of the approach of an enemy. If the citizens failed to heed his warning, the watchman was absolved of any harm which might befall them. But if he, himself, failed to warn the people, their death would be upon him. The Lord God said his prophet, the one who spoke for him, must be judged in the same way.

The prophet who saw wickedness and did not try to dissuade the wicked from continuing along a wayward path, well, such a prophet would be held accountable for the death of the wicked one. But if the prophet did warn the person and the wicked one continued to sin, then the prophet, himself, was absolved from any blame.

It would appear the Lord God told Ezekiel, and the Israelites, that yes, you are, indeed, your brother’s keeper, you are responsible for his welfare, but, if your advice is not heeded, then the fault is not yours but that of the one who continues to depart from God. The Lord God, it seems, is interested more in how you try to help rather than in how well you succeed.

In our Second Reading we heard more about just how we are responsible for the welfare of others. In this reading, St Paul reminds us the commandments: “You shall not commit adultery; you shall not kill; you shall not steal; you shall not covet” and how all of them can be summed up in the positive statement: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.”

He then goes on to remind us: “Love does no evil to the neighbor.” In Paul’s view, we are also our brother’s keeper by loving others and not doing evil to others. However, warning others about what might bring them to ruin and not doing evil to others are not the end of our responsibility for being our brother’s keeper. We still have the Gospel Reading to follow.

You may remember the Sunday before last, I spoke about the ekklesia, the church, the gathered people of God. At that time we heard the words Jesus addressed to Peter: “ … you are Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church … whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven; and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.”

In today’s gospel we heard a continuation of this interaction of Jesus and his disciples and how they are to treat those who are in need of moral and spiritual guidance, those who are not following the path. Jesus begins by telling his disciples they have individual responsibilities. If a friend needs to be informed of a fault, Jesus urges, first of all, a one-on-one conversation, a personal interaction. And if this fails to lead the friend back to the path, Jesus suggests a small group should meet with the straying brother.

But what happens if the person fails to heed the advice of the small group? Well, then, Jesus urges the matter be taken up by the large group, the whole gathering, the ekklesia, the church. And then he repeats what he said to Peter, however, this time with a slight, but significant difference. A difference that is apparent if the words are spoken as a Texan would speak them: “…. whatever y’all bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatever y’all loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.”

In regular English we don’t have the distinctions found in other languages. However, every Texan knows there is a world of difference between “you” and “y’all.” And in today’s reading Jesus spoke not to “you, Peter” but rather to “y’all, disciples.” In today’s passage he spoke to the community. He reminded them – “where two or three are gathered together in my name, there I am in the midst of them.”

Jesus reminded his followers, and he reminds us, we have a shared responsibility. The gathering, the church, is not a collection of individuals but a gathering in which he is in their midst. He, himself, is an integral part of the gathering, of the church, of the community. When we act as community, we act as the Body of Christ, we are joined together as members of one body with Christ as our head.

What Jesus did while he was here on earth, we are now called to do as members of his one body. These are not mere words but reality. Jesus has said in many ways: whatever you do to the least of my people you do to me.

The first question addressed by a human being to the Lord God is perhaps the most important question anyone can ask: “Am I my brother’s keeper? Am I responsible for the life, welfare, and death of all others?” And God, our Father, speaks the answer silently in the heart of each member of this gathering, this church, this community, this one body of Christ. He speaks the answer to you, right now.

^{Twenty-third Sunday in Ordinary; September 5, 1999
Ezek 33:7-9; Rom 13:8-10; Mt 18:15-20}

My question for today might test how observant you are. My question is this: What’s the full name for “CGS?” What name appears on the sign out in front, and on our bulletin, and on our stationary? Yes, “Christ the Good Shepherd Catholic Community.” And so here’s a second question: What is the purpose of a community? Just what is a “community?”

Of course there are a lot of answers. Basically, a community is a group which shares a common interest. A community is a group in which individuals have a responsibility for the welfare of others in the group. Our first reading speaks of the responsibility of each member of a community. The prophet Ezekiel reminds us: each of us has a responsibility to warn others of the dangers that might lead them away from the Lord God. He says, if someone goes against our warning, the responsibility for not heeding the warning is up to the wayward person. However, if we fail to warn someone, the responsibility for the person’s actions is ours. Both the wrongdoer and we will suffer the consequences.

In our Second Reading from the letter of St Paul to the Romans, our responsibility is put in “positive” terms rather than “negative” ones. Instead of saying we must warn others of potential wrong actions, Paul repeats the words of Jesus: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” Now, the actions of members of a community are not about negative warnings as much as they’re about positive acts of love, of help, of assistance.

In our Gospel Reading from Matthew, we hear more about how we should help guide one another. Nevertheless, the ultimate responsibility is up to each person. If someone does not follow our guidance, this individual continues to hold the responsibility for knowing what should be done or not done.

This brings us to another question: How do we know what we should do or how we should guide others in what they should do? The response to this question might be found in the last line of today’s gospel: “… where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them.”

This, then, is the purpose of “Christ the Good Shepherd Catholic Community,” to gather together in the name of Christ, the Good Shepherd. To gather together and learn what he has to say to us about how we are to believe in him, how we are to live with him in our midst. We, of course, gather together each Sunday. We learn more about him through listening to the scriptures proclaimed to us. (I hope we also learn something through the homilies.) But is this enough? Or are there other ways to learn more about who we are and what we should be doing, believing, being?

Some might think we’ve learned all we need to know, since we’ve attended religious education classes in preparation for our First Communion or later for our Confirmation. After all, there are a lot of teenagers around who know already everything they need to know about life. However, their parents may disagree with them on that.

But do these same parents, these same adults, feel they, themselves, have learned all they need to know about their beliefs, about what the church teaches us about God? Do the same people who know they must continue to learn about their professions in order to succeed think they can continue to get-by with an elementary or secondary education in matters of faith and beliefs?

This weekend our diocese has invited us to focus on adult Catholic education, on learning more about God, and about our adult relationship with God¹. There are many ways to accomplish this learning. For some, it can be done on your own, by continuing to read books and journals about Catholic teachings, about our history and our theology.

However, some may need the encouragement of a group and a formal classroom. For those who want to continue their learning as adult Catholics, our parish and our diocese offer many opportunities. The adult offerings for CGS can be found in this brochure: Adult Faith Formation 2002 – 2003.

I guess I should reveal my own potential-conflict-of-interest in this flyer. You may notice, I’m teaching two of the classes. Starting September 18, there will be eight, morning-sessions on “Basic Beliefs of the Catholic Church” and later, I’ll offer five evening-sessions on “The Catholic Church in the United States.”

In addition to such local classes, our diocese has its own advanced adult education program called “Formation Toward Christian Ministry.” The FTAM has been here at Good Shepherd. It’s currently being offered at St Anthony’s in The Woodlands and at Prince of Peace. You can call the director of religious education at any of these parishes for details about their programs.

Of course, there are also opportunities for young adults, and mature adults, to learn through formal classes in Houston or even in such places as Catholic University of America. I mention CUA, as well as our own University of St Thomas, since today’s second collection will be taken up to support both of them.

Today we have the privilege of hearing more about the University of St Thomas from Dr. Rebecca le Blanc, who has been a member of Christ the Good Shepherd Catholic Community, a community vitally interested in the presence of the Christ who is in our midst. Rebecca.

^{Twenty-third Sunday in Ordinary; September 8, 2002
Ezek 33:7-9; Rom 13:8-10; Mt 18:15-20}

1. _{^{Occasionally there is a need for a “public service homily.” This is one of them, given because the Diocese of Galveston-Houston requested that all homilies this weekend be directed toward adult education for Catholics. This is the “homiletic” part, focused somewhat on the Readings. Professor Rebecca LeBlanc then gave a “reflection” on what the University of St Thomas means to her and her family.}}

There is only one appropriate question for today: What happens next? Or for me, personally, perhaps the only question is: What can I say in response to the three powerful readings we heard proclaimed here, today, on this special Sunday of 2005, this weekend of September 10 and 11, which holds so deep a meaning in our lives? Here a mere two weeks after the tragedies left in the wake of Hurricane Katrina.

In today’s gospel reading from Matthew, we heard about forgiving and the consequences of not-forgiving. Last week, we heard his words about correcting those who fall away from God and the consequences of not correcting others, of not heeding the corrections offered by others to us. In next week’s gospel, we will hear about the generosity of God and the consequences of not accepting the generosity of God when he showers it upon others.

Matthew relates to us the parables Jesus tells his followers about Community, about the relations of true brothers and sisters living together in Community. He speaks about correcting, forgiving and accepting. He speaks of our trials and tribulations and about the joys and gifts of God. He speaks of death and of life, death to sin, and life with Christ.

We have seen and will remember much of this (perhaps, we think, too much of this) as citizens of the United States, as residents of Texas, as concerned neighbors of Houston. We’ve experienced the tragedy of what we call “9-11.” We are now experiencing what will be remembered as “Katrina.” Nevertheless, today is also the day for each of us to look more deeply into our own personal call toward forgiveness.

In our first reading from the Book of Sirach, one of the Books of Wisdom from the Hebrew testament, we heard these words: “Wraith and anger are hateful things, yet the sinner hugs them tight. … Forgive your neighbor’s injustice: then when you pray, your own sins will be forgiven. … Remember your last days, set enmity aside; remember death and decay, and cease from sin! Think of the commandments, hate not your neighbor; remember the Most High’s covenant, and overlook faults.”

“Forgive your neighbor” In today’s gospel, practical Peter asked Jesus a question: “Lord, if my brother sins against me, how often must I forgive? As many as seven times?” Yes, Peter thought seven times would be more than enough. Seven is, after all, the number for “perfection.” Surely, this number would be more than sufficient to show how “perfect” a follower of Christ should be in the matter of forgiveness of those who sinned against him, of those who had injured him, if he forgave them seven times.

But what did Jesus reply? It was not enough to be “perfect,” to forgive only seven times. No, instead, one must offer a tenfold return of forgiveness. Not seven, but ten times seven. And add an extra seven for good measure. An infinite number, an unaccountable number of times is required of those who claim to be his followers.

Then, as usual, to make his point less abstract, to put it in terms Peter and the others might more readily understand, he told them a story about a servant who, although forgiven much by his own Master, demanded punishment of a fellow servant who owned a significant lesser amount to him. And Jesus concluded by pointing out that the Master, upon learning of the servant’s lack of mercy, his own lack of forgiveness, gave the servant a punishment even more severe than the one this servant gave to his fellow servant. Not only imprisonment, but torture as well, until the debt is repaid.

It would seem, for some, the threat of punishment, the act of punishment, is needed to motivate a person to change! Is it out of the fear of punishment, the fear that if I fail to do what is right, what is just, I, myself, will be punished? Is it only fear of punishment that impels me toward the goal of tenfold perfection, of forgiving others seventy-seven times? Or are there higher reasons for me to change, to be merciful to others?

Based upon the Pascal mystery as he understood it, Saint Paul gave a reply in his Letter to the Romans, which we have been reading these past weeks. He reminded them and, today, he reminds us: “None of us lives for oneself, and no one dies for oneself. For if we live, we live for the Lord, and if we die, we die for the Lord; so then, whether we live or die, we are the Lord’s. For this is why Christ died and came to life, that he might be Lord of both the dead and the living.” In other words, we live and die because the Son of God lived and died for us. We forgive because the Son of God brought us God’s forgiveness. He forgave us, he forgives us as we forgive others. These are the words we learned as children, words we must recognize and live out as adults.

This weekend those who have taken the responsibility to teach these words to our children and to us, the catechists among us, have been participating in workshops to learn more about their calling to a catechetical ministry. Next weekend, they will be honored here at Christ the Good Shepherd for this ministry. The theme for Catechetical Sunday this year is: “Life IS Christ.” It is equally true that “Christ IS Life,” just as both giving and forgiving are essential for the life of Christians.
● The giving of ourselves to Christ by being his face, his hands, his feet to others as we did four years ago following the devastation of 9/11 and the rebuilding, the rebirth of the great City of New York
● as we are now doing in the rebuilding, the rebirth of the great City of New Orleans
● as, together, we look forward to the coming of our spiritual city, the New Jerusalem, the City of God.

And in the meantime, what happens next? On a practical level, do we have a plan for hiring, for paying those who have fled the areas flooded by Katrina as they, themselves, rebuild their towns and lives? How do we provide them with lumber, bricks and other materials as they rebuild their homes, stores and industries? How do we afford them immediate housing in tent cities and bivouacs until their own homes are replaced? As with Peter, practical answers are needed for what are more than rhetorical questions.

There are no quick solutions, no easy solutions to the question: What happens next?
However, I’d like to leave you with a short reflection written by someone else. From time to time some of you, who know her, have wondered whether Karen, my wife, writes my homilies for me. This is especially the case for those of you who may have attended one of the Days of Prayer she gives through her association with the Cenacle Retreat House. Well, the answer to that question is: “No, she has not.” However, I would like to conclude with a reflection she wrote on one recent, sleepless morning, a few days ago.

After the media are gone with their trucks, cameras, and journalists –
After Katrina disappears from banner headlines –
After power is restored, the levees are repaired and the water is pumped out of the streets –
After the bodies are identified and buried –
After the rubble and sodden possessions are removed –
After all of that – the work begins – the hardest work of all – rebuilding lives & dreams.
The Big Easy is gone – nothing Easy remains.

They will return – first a trickle, then a flood of people – strangers in a strange land.
Hollow eyed – grey-faced – grim, they cling to each other for comfort. Where is home?

Echoes of jazz pour out of doorways on Bourbon Street and Preservation Hall.

Fragrant memories of Creole cooking fill the air.

Can you hear the tap-dancers on the sidewalk?
the clip-clop of horse-drawn carriages –
the shout of hawkers and barkers?

Can you see the rows of easels lining the wrought-iron fences of Jackson Square –
with budding artists and old-timers producing masterpieces in chalk and watercolor?

Can you taste the sugar-covered beignets and the strong coffee at Café du Monde?

If you listen closely, you can hear the sad sound of a funeral led by jazz musicians.

And what of Mardi Gras with its costumes, beads and boisterousness — will it return?

Will the Saints go marching in?

I think so, I hope so. I pray so.

The bad times are here. Let the good times roll again!

^{Twenty-fourth Sunday in Ordinary; September 11, 2005
Sir 27:30 – 28:7; Rom 14:7 -9; Mt 18:21 – 35}

Today’s question is based on scripture. It’s this: In the United States, what is the most referenced passage from the New Testament? It may not be quoted outright, but it certainly is the most referenced verse in the New Testament. So, what is this popular verse? Of course it’s John 3:16. (Hold up large sign.) We heard it just moments ago in our Gospel Reading for today: “For God so loved the world that he gave his only son, so that he who believes in him might not perish but might have eternal life.”

On the other hand, the two verses which come immediately before this quotation, verses 14 and 15, are much less known or recited. However, they are equally important. They are: “And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the desert, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, so that everyone who believes in him may have eternal life.” These verses are probably less quoted because of the strange reference to Moses having “lifted up the serpent in the desert,” a reference strange to us but not to those who heard Jesus speak them two thousand years ago.

Back then, the Israelites were very familiar with the story of Moses and the Exodus and of the problems the Israelites faced in the desert. They remembered how their food ran out during the early days of the journey from Egypt. They recalled how the Lord God had given them manna to eat, as well as quail to keep them from starvation. The Lord God even gave them water from the rock to quench their thirst. But they were not content with this bread which came down from heaven.

In today’s first reading from the Book of Numbers we heard them complain: “We are disgusted with this wretched food.” They grew tired of manna from heaven. They wanted something else. Forgetting the hardships they had once endured, many wanted to return to their bondage in Egypt, where they had other things to eat,

Now days, we seldom speak about how God sometimes reacts negatively to complaints. We tend to forget, in response to their whining, God sent them poisonous snakes, which the Israelites called saraph serpents or fiery serpents. However, the Israelites quickly realized manna and quail were a lot better than poisonous snakes and petitioned Moses to intercede for them, saying: “We have sinned in complaining against the LORD and you. Pray the LORD to take the serpents from us.”

The Lord God did relent. He instructed Moses to make a bronze serpent and lift it up on a pole so those who were bitten by the poisonous snakes could look upon this icon and be saved. At first, we might be puzzled by this divine instruction. It was not long before then that Aaron had molded a golden calf which angered Moses who broke the original copy of the Ten Commandments. So what’s the difference?

The golden calf was an idol which the Israelites began to worship in place of the Lord God. However, the bronze serpent was an icon to remind them of the power of the Lord God and how he would lead them despite their complaints of which they had repented. Nevertheless, problems of idol worship did recur over the years. Much later, after the Hebrews returned from their captivity in Babylon, a new king, by the name of Hezekiah of Judah, destroyed the bronze serpent Moses had made. In Babylon, the Hebrews had begun to worship the Serpent as a god. They had turned the icon representing the Lord God into an idol for worship in competition with Him.

So why was Jesus recalling this ancient story that we heard in today’s Gospel when he said: “And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the desert, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, so that everyone who believes in him may have eternal life.” The answer can be found in how we respond to his being “lifted up.”

Scripture scholars tell us Jesus was referring to his own being lifted up on the cross and this icon of the crucifixion would lead to our Salvation, our Redemption, our Eternal Life. He told his followers, ahead of time, he would be lifted up, not only on a cross, but also from a tomb. Together, the crucifixion and the empty tomb become the icon, a visible image, representing our Eternal Life. Unfortunately this icon, this image of the cross of our Salvation, can also become an idol, a meaningless piece of jewelry.

Today, we celebrate a special feast day in the church. Today, we celebrate the “Exaltation of the Holy Cross.” In previous years, it has also been known as the celebration of the “Triumph of the Cross.” This celebration occurs annually on September 14. This year the date of September 14 happens to coincide with a Sunday. This special day allows us to recall we must focus on the icon of the cross and not a mere idol, called a cross. We are to see the cross as a living symbol and not a piece of decoration.

All of us, as Catholic Christians, are deeply aware of the importance of the Sign of the Cross in our daily lives. We recall how this is the first image of our Christian life. This sign is traced on our forehead at the beginning of our baptism. Our candidates and catechumens receive a cross when they begin their preparation to join us in the Catholic Church. This icon is presented to our families at the completion of the funeral liturgy. The cross initiates and completes our lives as Catholic Christians.

And what about the in-between times? The cross leads us in procession as we begin each Eucharistic celebration. The cross leads us to the Table of the Lord and then the cross leads us from this Eucharistic gathering out into the world, to become Eucharist for others, to become the Body of Christ for others.

While carrying out our tasks as followers of Christ, we also perform the sign of the cross over those we love, in times of blessings for happy events, and especially in times of consolation, healing or danger. It is with the sign of the cross that we comfort ourselves in times of duress.

How many of us carry this icon around our necks? How many of us bear this cross as a yoke with Christ? On the other hand, how many are there who have turned this icon into an idol, an empty piece of costume jewelry, another bit of gold or silver used as a decoration, rather than as a daily reminder that, in the words of St Paul, “[Christ Jesus] emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, coming in human likeness; and found human in appearance, he humbled himself, becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.”

And Paul went on to say: “Because of this, God greatly exalted him and bestowed on him the name which is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bend, of those in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.”

Today, each one of us can rededicate us with the sign first presented to us at our baptism. Today, we can, once again, rededicate ourselves to the Exaltation of the Holy Cross. Today, we can go beyond a casual reference to John 3:16 and lift up our Lord through our own prayers and actions: “… just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the desert, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, so that everyone who believes in him may have eternal life.” Today, and every day, is the time to celebrate the Triumph of the Cross, our Santa Cruz, our Holy Cross. † In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

^{Exaltation of the Holy Cross: September 14, 2008
Num 21:4-9; Phil 2:6-11; Jn 3:13-17}

What’s the first thing you think of when I say the word: “cheers?” A few of you, caught up in high school football, might think of pep rallies and cheerleaders. A couple of you may have thought of “happiness.” But I bet most of you had an immediate impression of a bar in Boston or the TV program based upon the characters who go there. The “hero” of that program (and I use that term, “hero,” loosely) is Sam Malone, a bartender played by Ted Danson.

How many of you saw the Emmy Awards several weeks ago when he received an award for his performance? Or, perhaps, you saw a photograph of him in the newspaper. There were a lot of surprised people. It’s not every day you see an actor who portrays a handsome womanizer allowing himself to be seen with thinning hair and wearing glasses. (It’s nice to know there are other men who have some of the same characteristics I have!)

The question now is: How do I get from Ted Danson and Cheers to today’s Gospel Reading? It may be a stretch, even for me. But not really. I think most of you would agree, in real life he doesn’t look at all like what he portrays on TV. Ted Danson is a true actor. Well, the Greek word for “actor” is Hypocrite, and I believe being a “hypocrite” has a great deal to do with today’s Gospel Reading.

Here we have the classic story of the elder son who says one thing to please his father and then goes off and forgets all about what he has promised. Then there is the younger son who feels put-upon, as do most younger kids in the family, and who refuses to do what is asked of him, but then, realizing he does have a responsibility, goes off and does what he knows his father wants him to do. The focus for today’s reflection is a very simple one: Am I the elder child, or the younger one? Just what kind of a hypocrite am I? What sort of roles do I play with others, with myself, and with God?

To begin today’s reflection, perhaps we need to take a closer look at what has happened just before the section of Matthew’s Gospel we heard today. Once again, it’s like coming into the middle of a TV drama and wondering who all of the characters might be. Today’s reading comes from near the end of Matthew’s Gospel. Jesus has just thrown out the money changers from the temple. The priests and elders are understandably upset with him and ask him on what authority he has done not only this but, also, on what authority has he taught what he has been teaching every day in the temple area for the past week.

Jesus, as you might remember, did not answer the priests and elders, but, rather, asked them a question about the authority of John the Baptist. You may also recall the priests and elders refused to answer him, and Jesus, in turn, refused to answer them. Instead, he told them today’s story about the two sons. At the end of his story, he asked them, as you heard, which son really did the father’s will? Reluctantly, they had to agree it was the younger son. It was then Jesus told them that it was the tax collectors, who collaborated with the hated Romans, and the prostitutes, who sold their bodies but who repented and changed their ways, it was these people, not the learned priests and elders, who would enter God’s Kingdom and obtain salvation. Obviously, the priests and elders didn’t like either the story or the interpretation Jesus gave them.

What about you? Most of us would like to think we are like the younger son, we grouse a bit, but we do what God wants us to do. This is exactly what the priests and elders thought was true for them. When they heard the story, they thought they had been acting like the younger son, not the elder one. After all, they followed all of the 613 laws proscribed by Moses. They participated in the temple sacrifices. They performed every jot and tittle of what was expected of them. Don’t you and I do the same thing? Don’t we do what is expected of us, even when we might complain about doing it?

Now, here’s another quiz for you. You’re driving out in the country on one of the state highways. The traffic is relatively light. The speed limit is the usual 55 miles per hour¹. The question: do you set your cruise control at 55 or 65? If you set it at 65, do you tell yourself it’s OK, the road is perfectly safe, no one’s around, why not drive at a comfortable 65 instead of poking along at 55? Who’s going to get hurt? There’s no patrol car ‘way out here. Besides, it’s a silly law anyway. You tell yourself: I’m not being a hypocrite, really. What I’m doing is perfectly justified.

And that is the nature of hypocrisy. A hypocrite does not do what he believes is wrong. A hypocrite justifies what is done as being right, even though an external critic might think otherwise. A hypocrite sees no reason to change. The priests and elders saw no reason to change. They thought the tax collectors and prostitutes, who were conducting prosperous businesses, needed to change.

To change, to repent. Each one of us has a need to change, to repent. But I cannot tell you what you need to change and you cannot tell me what I must change. Because if you do try to tell me, and if I am not ready to admit it, I will argue back and tell you exactly why it is right for me to do what I have been doing.

No, you cannot tell me what I must change, it is only God who can whisper to me what needs to be changed in my life. It is in prayer with him that Jesus is able to speak to my heart and gently guide me to new insights and to new paths. It is with the grace of the Holy Spirit that I can acknowledge what has been harmful to me and to others.

Each one of us is an actor. We play public roles and live private lives. We each say one thing to please those around us and, when alone, we do the exact opposite. In the business world, in school, with our friends in public, we each put on a different performance from the one we may display when we are with our families or when we are alone. We are each a hypocrite, an actor.

In ancient times, plays were given for special religious occasions: like the Olympic games. And the actors were judged and awarded prizes depending upon their performance. The Greek word for judge is related to our word, “critic.” Since the prefix “hypo-” means “under,” someone who is “under judgement” is, indeed, a “hypo-crite,” an actor. However, only you and I as individuals know just how good we are as actors. We each know what needs to be changed; where the mask hides the reality underneath. We each know when we say “yes” to God the Father but then, when we think no one is watching, do something else. Each one of us needs to be self-critical.

Yet, when I say there is a need to be self-critical, I hasten to add being “self-critical” does not mean to be “self-punishing.” The ancient critics who judged the plays in Greece awarded prizes, not punishment. To be a “self-critic” is to look at one’s self honestly, to use criteria or measurements which are based upon reality and not just upon what I, personally, happen to think is right. To be a “self-critic” is to try to learn what God the Father is asking me to do and to be, rather than going off and doing what I, personally, think is best.

In today’s Gospel Reading, we heard you do not enter the kingdom of God because of “who are,” priest or elder, tax collector or prostitute. It is not what you merely say you will do in order to follow the instructions of God. Rather, it is the willingness to look honestly at one’s self and have an openness to change what needs to be changed, that enables each one of us to enter the Kingdom of God.

Each one of us is being told it’s OK to take off the stage make-up, to put aside the hairpiece and to wear glasses to see where we are going. Ted Danson received an Emmy award. Each one of us is going for our own prize in the Kingdom of God. To each one of us in this contest and on our journey: Cheers!

^{Twenty-sixth Sunday in Ordinary; September 30, 1990
Ezek 18:25-38; Phil 2:1-11; Mt 21:28-32}

1. _{^{In 1990 the speed limits had been reduced for “safety” reasons and to “save” on gas. These values would be increased for today’s drivers, since 65 mph is now legal on state highways and drivers on most of the Interstate routes in Texas would never consider going less than 70.}}

How long – how long is a – minute? That’s your question for today. How long is a minute? Some might say: sixty seconds. A few might look at it from the other side and say a minute is one-sixtieth of an hour. After all, we recognize time is relative and is determined by both age and gender. How long is a minute, when either a teenager or a husband answers: “OK, OK, I’ll be there in a minute?” That “minute” is usually long enough for mom to have set the table and cook the entire dinner, besides taking out the trash, before either the kid or the husband shows up.

How often have you said: “I’ll be there in a minute,” but then continued to do your own thing, forgetting you had promised to do something that had been asked of you? Back in the time of Jesus, they didn’t measure time in minutes. But they still had the problem, as seen in today’s Gospel Reading.

The one son replied to his father’s instructions: ”I’m on my way, sir,” but he never went. His I’ll-be-there-in-a-minute never happened. But the other son who said: “No, I will not,” regretted his outburst and did what he knew he should be doing. Neither one kept his promise. Neither one did what he said he would do. But one of them did honor his commitment. He did what he knew was the right thing to do.

Today is the second Sunday during our annual series of homilies on stewardship, on our personal and individual sharing of God’s gifts of time, talent and treasure with both our God and with one another¹. Today the focus is on the second gift: talent. Today is the day for “stewardship,” for helping others by sharing the gifts given to us, the stewards, by the master of the house. Or looking at it in the words of today’s gospel: each one of us is asked to go out and work in the vineyard.

Some of us are likely to say “yes, I’ll do it.” We will visit the tables set up today for each of the ministries open to us here at Christ the Good Shepherd. We will scan the handout in today’s bulletin which identifies some ninety-nine ways we are called to use our gifts for the betterment of all of us. We may even sign up to do something. But there it ends. In effect, we say: “I’ll be there in a minute.” But the minute never comes.

Others may see the tables and the lists and feel put-upon. “After all,” they’ll tell themselves, “I’m already doing more than my share.” They may say, once more, “Why me? Why not let someone else do it for a while?” But like the second son, they will again go out to work in the vineyard.

As we begin a new year of ministries, we are again asked to make New Year’s promises. But more important, we are called to make New Year’s commitments. We are asked to “follow through” rather than complain we are “through following.” In today’s gospel, Jesus reminds us that tax collectors and prostitutes, the outcasts of Jewish society, were able to believe, to change and to follow him into the Kingdom. So, too, we, to whom God has given everything, can make our returns by working in the vineyards he has planted.

A recent issue of the magazine, America, published by the U.S. Jesuits, has a long article entitled “Lagging Stewards.” The authors report on a recent study comparing the contributions of Catholics with Lutherans, Presbyterians, Southern Baptists and members of the Assemblies of God. As you might expect, financial support was three to six times higher for the Protestant groups than for the Catholics.

The study looked at several factors to try to explain the differences, but none of them seemed to correlate with the amount given, except for one variable. The authors state: “We conclude from this exercise that religious commitments of church members are the most important difference for understanding the ‘giving gap’ between Catholic and Protestant churches, more important than theological teachings by the churches, and more important than church size and the number of programs offered. From this point of view, to understand Catholic-Protestant differences we need to look into the different religious commitment emphases associated with community life, leadership, responsibility and personal justification.”

Actually, this conclusion should not surprise us. Not after hearing today’s Gospel Reading and recognizing that the problem of commitment was with us some two-thousand years ago. We are again reminded by Jesus we are sons and daughters called by the Father. We might be the ones who say “yes” in hope of pleasing the Father, when he is present, and then fail to live up to our promise. We might be the ones who feel put-upon and refuse but then, realizing the commitment we have made, actually do what we know is right.

Or we can be like the third child, not mentioned in today’s Gospel, the one who does not say either “yes” or “no,” the one who ignores the instructions completely, who passes through life without listening and without recognizing gifts have been given to be shared with others. Here is the third child who makes no promises and has no commitments. The one who does not even say, “I’ll be there in a minute.” The one who does not realize when the minute ends and eternity begins.

Or we can be like the fourth son, our friend and brother, Jerry Brothers, who has immediately said “yes” when he was asked to share with us his thoughts on ministry to others. Here is one man who does not say: “in a minute.” Jerry Brothers.

^{Twenty-sixth Sunday in Ordinary; September 29, 1996
Ezek 18:25-38; Phil 2:1-11; Mt 21:28-32}

1. . _{^{Each year the diocese asks the parishes to focus on “stewardship” in terms of contributing time, talent, and treasure rather than “just” contributing money. Many parishes respond with a “Stewardship” or “Ministry Sunday” during which they have tables and/or exhibits promoting and urging parishioners to participate in the ministries offered. It is a period of commitment or re-commitment to serving others. Again, as with other “public service” homilies, the preaching responsibility is shared with the clerical “homilist” who is to “break open the word” and a member of the “lay apostolate” who is to share a “reflection.” Today’s “volunteer” is Mr. Jerry Brothers.}}

Today’s gospel ends with perhaps one of the more frequently quoted lines in the Bible: ” … give to Caesar what is Caesar’s but give to God what is God’s.” Some of you may prefer the way the King James Version says it: “… render unto Caesar what is Caesar’s and render unto God what is God’s.” Others, who use the Jerusalem Bible, are more familiar with the statement: ” … give back to Caesar what belongs to Caesar – and to God what belongs to God.”

No matter which translation you use, the usual interpretation of the line involves a separation of church and state. I expect that this weekend, with the national elections only two and one-half weeks away, there are a lot of homilies being preached which focus on the theme of the separation of church and state. For many people, it’s a natural follow-up. But for me, there is a more personal meaning in what Jesus said to those who raised a question about the lawfulness of paying a tax to the Romans. Rather than talking about the relationship of church and state, these reflections on today’s readings will be about a coin and about us.

To begin this reflection, I have a question for you. I don’t want you to answer out loud. In fact, you may not want to tell anyone the answer. My first question is for the men. Right now, do you have anything in your wallet you would be ashamed to show your wife or, if you’re not married, to your best friend? And for the women: Is there anything in your purse you wouldn’t want your husband, or your best friend, to know about? And you younger folks don’t get off either. My question for you is: Is there anything hidden away in your locker at school or in the back of a drawer you would be ashamed about if your parents or your best friend found out about it? Think for a moment, and after this Mass, it’s not fair to ask your husband, your wife, your kids or your friends what they immediately thought about when I asked the question.

How do these questions fit into today’s Gospel Reading? Well, they’re very direct. You see, this is what happened to the Pharisees and the Herodians. Let’s take a look behind the scene of today’s Gospel. It all started when the question was raised by the chief priests and elders about who gave Jesus the authority to preach what he was preaching. He did not answer them. In a good Jewish style, he asked them a return question about John’s authority to baptize. Did that authority come from heaven or from man? In response, they argued among themselves and concluded they had best not answer his question.

If the chief priests and elders had said John’s authority came from heaven, they knew Jesus would respond the same way and they, themselves, would be caught in their own trap. And if they said John’s authority came from man, all those who thought John was a prophet sent by God would attack them. So, they refused to answer. Jesus replied, if they could not say where John received his authority, he would not say where his own came from.

With that background in mind, we can look at today’s Gospel which begins: “The Pharisees went off and began to plot how they might trap Jesus in speech. They sent their disciples to him, accompanied by Herodian sympathizers. [After a very oily introduction, they said to him] ‘give us your opinion, then, in this case. Is it lawful to pay tax to the Emperor or not?’”

They were sure they had laid a neat trap. You see, the Pharisees, themselves, were against paying any tax to the Roman authority which now governed Israel. On the other hand, the Herodians were Jews who were in favor of accommodation with Rome and thought it was acceptable to pay the tax. If Jesus said it was acceptable to pay the tax, the Jewish people would have been angered. If he said they should not pay the tax, the Roman authorities would have a reason to arrest him as a rebel. Jesus, however, understood their thinking and asked to see the coin used for the tax.

Can you see them now? There is the Pharisee reaching into his purse tied to the string at his waist. He pulls out the coin, smiling. And then his face turns bright red. The crowd around him gives a slight gasp. The Pharisee knows he, himself, has been trapped. All he can do is wait until Jesus speaks. Then he and his fellows can sneak away. How was he trapped? Not by what Jesus said, but rather by their own actions.

The Pharisee had in his possession a Roman coin with the head of the Emperor on it. And the legend around the rim of the coin proclaimed the Emperor Tiberius was divine. According to Jewish law, as a Pharisee, he was forbidden to carry such a coin! There, in his hand, was the proof he was a hypocrite, one who says one thing and practices another. By showing the coin, he had demonstrated to all around him that he had already acknowledged the taxing authority of Rome. There was no need to have asked the question. Even the Jewish Herodians, who said it was acceptable to pay the tax, were caught. They too, as supposedly “good” Jews, were not allowed to carry the image of the divine Caesar in their purse.

A few minutes ago, I began by asking whether you had anything in your possession you would be ashamed to show to someone else. And if you did, you might have had a feeling like that of the Pharisees and the Herodians. However, I now have another question for you. It’s really the same one that Jesus asked.

First of all, I would like you to think about a coin in your own pocket. Not a real coin, but an imaginary one. Each of us carries with us a coin we should not have. And that is the point of Jesus’ question: “Whose head is on the coin, whose inscription is on this coin?” You see, it was immediately after their answer that Jesus said: “Give unto Caesar what is Caesar’s but give unto God what is God’s.” By saying this, he reminds us that everything we possess comes from God and must be rendered back to him. At the same time, they have shown that they have bought into a power that could lead them away from the kingdom. What they must now do is give up, render, or give back anything which takes them away from the kingdom. He asked them to identify the image on the coin they carried and to give back this image to the one who made it.

The head on your own imaginary coin might be “excessive pride” – a pride which keeps me from recognizing the power of God in my life. Or the coin might be my “job” which pulls me away from family or from my spiritual life. Or the coin might be “a relationship” – a relationship which I know is wrong for my life, yet I clutch onto it as if it were the most valuable coin in the world. Or the coin may have my own image on it, not a handsome one, but one that is scarred and disfigured – scarred and disfigured in my own mind, for the image I need to give up is my own poor self-image.

Each of us carries in our pocket a coin we need to give up. It’s a coin not of God’s making but of the world’s making, of Caesar’s making. I need to identify whose head is on my coin so I can give it back to the manufacturer. Everything else I need to render unto God. And so, I conclude with the question our Lord raised: “Whose head is on the coin you carry? ” And with his instruction: “Give it up to the one who made it – and give everything else to God.”

^{Twenty-ninth Sunday in Ordinary; October 21, 1984
Is 45:1, 4-6; 1 Thess 1:1-5b; Mt 22:15-21}

This morning, I would invite you to remember back to when you were ten years old and had a best friend you played with every day during the summer. The two of you had so much fun you didn’t want your vacation to end. But it did end, and you had to go back to school. It was then you met this new kid in your class who was pretty neat. Soon you were spending a lot of time with this new kid. Then, one day, the new kid and your best friend from that summer came up to you and demanded to know which one was really your best friend. I don’t know what you said, but this little recollection gives us the focus for today’s homily reflection: Don’t be trapped into rejecting someone when pressure is put on you by others.

How do I get that focus out of today’s classic Gospel quotation: “Render unto Caesar what is Caesar’s and render unto God what is God’s?” Well, to begin, we need to take a closer look at the conflict reported in today’s reading. The pharisees and their companions thought they had set a perfect trap for Jesus. The question seemed straight forward: “Is it lawful to pay a tax to the emperor or not?”

If Jesus said “no,” then he would be rejecting the Roman authorities and their Jewish sympathizers like the Herodians, who said it was acceptable to pay tribute to the Romans. If he said “yes, it’s acceptable to pay a tax to the Romans,” he would be rejecting the Zealots and those Jews who found Roman rule to be oppressive and who thought Jesus was the Messiah who would lead them to victory over the foreigners. However, Jesus avoided the trap. He rejected neither Roman authority nor Jewish independence. In fact, in this case, he neatly sprang the trap on the Pharisees, themselves.

As long as they considered themselves to be good Jews and followers of Torah, they were not supposed to be carrying a Roman coin bearing the image of the divine Caesar. When they handed Jesus the coin, they branded themselves as hypocrites. However, it is not the hypocracy of the Pharisees upon which we might focus our attention today, but rather on our own tendency to fall into our own trap of rejecting other people for the wrong reasons.

We’re all familiar with classic cases of rejection. Do you know someone who has an unmarried daughter living with a man, and the parents have rejected her? Or what about the case of a son who has married outside the church? Have his parents or other relatives rejected him?

Twenty-nine years ago, Karen and I were married in the Congregational church. Since then, she has become a Catholic and our marriage was validated in the Catholic church. But at the time, I had an aunt who solemnly informed all of my Catholic relatives they would be excommunicated if they came to the wedding. My parents and one uncle and his wife, a wonderful Methodist woman, were the only relatives from my side of the family who attended.

There are, of course, other forms of rejection. Forty years ago, in the Ohio steel-town in which I was raised, Italians and Poles were not socially acceptable. I have both ancestries and know the sting when someone says: “But you don’t look like an Eye-talian.” Today, there are similar cases with our Hispanic brothers and sisters in Christ.

Rejection comes in all sorts of sizes. We tend to reject the poor by listening to those who say they don’t want to work. We reject the elderly on the grounds some friends say they are no longer productive, cost too much to keep or are hard to get along with. We reject children who don’t live up to expectations conforming to what neighbors say about grades, athletic abilities or lifestyle. And children, too, reject parents whose ideas seem old-fashioned, as judged by their own teenaged peers. Each of us seems caught up in the trap of rejecting anyone who is not exactly like us or who doesn’t live up to society’s expectations.

Each time we feel compelled by others to reject a person because of one specific behavior, we are allowing our self to be put into the same trap the Pharisees tried to set for Jesus. His response was not to reject either the authority of Rome or his Jewish heritage. Instead, he said one must look at the circumstances and then do what is appropriate in order to follow both what society, as represented by Caesar, and our God want us to do.¹

We are now beginning the last, formal part of our Renew Program. The theme for these six weeks is “evangelization.” Sometimes, when we hear the word evangelization we think of wild-eyed people forcing us to convert to something. But that’s not what the word really means. Evangelization comes from a Greek word which means “carry the good news.” And what is that Good News? That Jesus is the Son of God, he has come to offer us salvation through his life, death on a cross, and resurrection from the dead.

Each week we hear part of that Good News. We call it the Gospel. But more important, each week we are called upon not only to hear the Good News but to live it out. To carry it to others by the way in which we live out the Good News. And that is really what evangelization is all about. It is reaching out to others after first accepting the teachings of Jesus, the life of Jesus, into our own lives.

During this period of evangelization and our Renew Process, we will be asked to reach out to others. We are not asked to choose between the old best friend and the new kid in our class. Instead, we are called to accept both. We’re also called to consider those whose actions or life style may not be exactly what we would like them to be. We are called to find ways to reach out to them.

In our first reading for today, we heard how the Lord God made use of Cyrus, the King of Persia, to advance the Jewish nation. It is equally possible God calls upon someone who is not of our own liking to help us to our own salvation. But even if that is not the case, do we not have the responsibility to help others, even those who are different from us, on their own road to God’s kingdom?

We began with a Roman coin. Every coin has two sides. Every person has more than one side. Is it not possible to find the side which would allow us to accept that person? Maybe the best way to render unto both Caesar and God what each one is due, is to follow another ancient principle: Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.

^{Twenty-ninth Sunday in ordinary; October 18, 1987
Is 45:1, 4-6; 1 Thess 1:1-5b; mt 22:15-21}

1. ^{_{The wonderful thing about parables is that they allow for multiple interpretations! The previous time I preached on this parable, my focus was on our need to return to Caesar those negative items keeping us from God. Today’s focus is on the positive images of the coins and the situation: don’t be overly eager to reject people on surface characteristics. It would seem that the parable can be used either by “absolutists” — rendering strictly to secular and non-secular society what each “merits” or by “relativists” — not rejecting either a secular or non-secular society but seeing the “good” in each! This year I saw a need to emphasize the openness of evangelization and the Renew Program. Previously my focus was on metanoia: change. In a way, they are the two sides of the same coin!}}