Wednesday, August 25, 2010

21st Sunday in Ordinary Time

A list of colleges with the highest rejection rates was published in a recent report. The colleges which made the list are the “usual suspects”- MIT, the Ivy League schools, and so forth. The most competitive schools rejected 90% of those who applied to get in, and of that 90%, many were highly qualified students with impressive records. Rightly or wrongly, the pressure felt by some to get into these schools is very great, and the whole application process can create great anxiety for them. And the majority who are rejected sometimes experience profound disappointment, even depression.
At first reading, Jesus’ words in today’s gospel might lead us to believe that trying to get into heaven is a lot like trying to get into Harvard. When Jesus was asked if only a few would be saved, our Lord described heaven’s door as being narrow, and spoke of the wailing and grinding of teeth on the part of those “cast out.” It’s not a very pleasant image, and one that could easily cause us stress and anxiety, as we fear being counted amongst the seemingly vast majority who will find heaven’s door firmly locked.
If getting into heaven really is like trying to get into the Ivy League, we might wonder what kind of god we’re dealing with. What god would condemn most of his creation to eternal destruction? What god would send his only son to suffer and die for just a tiny, select few? We might be able to obey this god out of fear. But such a god would be very difficult to love, and offer our thanks and praise. And hope would be hard to come by, because there would be little to hope for, if most of us were going to be consigned to hell.
However, in order to truly understand Jesus’ words in today’s gospel, we need to appreciate just who it was he was speaking with. The person who asked the question, “Will those who are saved be few?” was Jewish. He was asking Jesus if only Jewish people would be saved, something many people believed. In response, Jesus spoke of people from every nation- from the east and west and north and south- being welcomed into the kingdom of God. Here, our Lord echoed Isaiah’s beautiful vision in today’s first reading, in which a multitude of “brothers and sisters” from all nations would come to worship the Lord in Jerusalem.
At the same time, Jesus told his questioner to “strive to enter through the narrow gate.” He said this not because God wishes to restrict heaven to a handful of people, but because Jesus’ questioner assumed that his salvation was assured, just because he was Jewish. In effect, he was taking salvation for granted. But aren’t we sometimes tempted to do exactly the same thing? It’s easy to think that, because God is so good and merciful and loving, we can take our salvation for granted. That’s why Jesus’ words to strive to enter through the narrow gate are intended for us as well.
Our Lord knows that whenever we take his salvation for granted, we’ll take him for granted. And when we take Jesus for granted, our love for him first turns lukewarm, and then it turns cold. Because we don’t really love people we take for granted. Jesus doesn’t want us to take him for granted, because he loves us too much. In the gospel, he spoke of people dining with him in his kingdom. Sharing a meal together was deeply significant in Jesus’ culture. It was an expression of friendship and intimacy. For Jesus to describe heaven as a meal, then, is a way of saying that in heaven we will be his intimate friends. Jesus wants this intimacy and friendship with us to begin now. Deep down, this is what we want as well. Because God made us that way. Because God loves us so much.
Today’s gospel should challenge us to take a good look at our relationship with Jesus. Is Jesus for us an intimate friend? Or is he something less? Consider the people in the gospel who found themselves excluded from the heavenly banquet. It’s not that Jesus was a stranger to them. They’d all seen him before. Some had heard him teach, and others had actually been at meals with him. But Jesus said that he didn’t really know them. They hadn’t made the effort to get to know him well. Their relationship with Jesus was superficial. He wasn’t an intimate friend; he was simply a passing acquaintance.
Is Jesus a passing acquaintance to us? Think of it this way: If we don’t see a passing acquaintance for a long time, it’s no big deal. We may be happy to see them whenever we do. We’ll wave, chat, exchange a few pleasantries, maybe even express a wish to get together some time. But their absence doesn’t really impact our lives.
What impact does Jesus have on our lives right now? Or to put it another way, how would Jesus’ absence impact our lives? The eternal absence of Jesus is one way we might think of hell, just as heaven is to eternally enjoy Jesus’ friendship. And like heaven, hell is something we can begin to experience even now, whenever we allow Jesus to slip away to the corner of our lives and become simply a casual acquaintance or, heaven forbid, something even less.
Jesus wants our relationship with him to be our top priority. He wants to be our friend, not a passing acquaintance. But the choice is ours, isn’t it? Jesus’ hand is always extended to us in friendship. We can wave politely from a distance, or we can take his hand firmly in ours and walk by his side as we journey through life, enjoying a taste of the heavenly banquet while we strive to enter through that narrow gate, not taking our salvation for granted, but knowing that the arms of God’s mercy, are always open wide.

Friday, August 20, 2010

Assumption of the BVM

Just a week after I had assisted at his daughter’s wedding, the father of the bride approached me after a Sunday Mass. The wedding itself had been a wonderful occasion: a gorgeous sunny day; smiling, happy people; a lovely bride in a beautiful dress; good food and wine; a string ensemble playing delightful music. As he reflected on it all, the father of the bride said to me, “Why can’t every day be like that?” “I wish it could,” I replied. “Maybe that’s why Jesus often described heaven as a wedding party.”
Picture a wedding party in your mind for a moment. Most likely there would be laughter, music, dancing, flowers and decoration, affectionate embracing, food and drink, people dressed in their finest clothes…in other words: special sights, smells, sounds, taste, touch, movement. All things that engage our senses. Things that, if we are to enjoy them, require our having a body.
The same is true for heaven. If as Jesus said, heaven is like a wedding party, we will need our bodies in order to experience and enjoy it. We Christians don’t simply hope that after we die, our “spirits” or our “souls” will simply “go to heaven.” What we hope for instead is the “resurrection of the body.” And it is this hope that we remember and celebrate today, the Solemnity of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary. At the end of her life, Mary was assumed body and soul into heaven. Not just her soul, but her body as well. God would not allow the body of the Mother of God to decay and return to the earth. In fact, we don’t even say that Mary died. Death is a consequence of sin, and Mary was preserved from sin by the grace of God. That’s the whole point of the Immaculate Conception; that’s why whenever we pray the Hail Mary, we remember that she is “full of grace.”
By being assumed into heaven body and soul, Mary enjoys in its fullness what we hope and long for: Resurrection. Not just eternal life, but resurrection of the body, which we say we believe in, whenever we profess the Nicene Creed at Sunday Mass. But we might ask: “So what? In heaven, who cares if we’re body and soul, or simply soul, as long as we’re with God?” That’s a fair question, but think of it this way: God made us body and soul. If eternal life excluded our bodies, our redemption would be incomplete. Jesus saves all of who we are. And that includes our bodies.
Our bodies, and indeed the world we live in, are not something bad we’re meant to escape from when we die. Our bodies and our world are good- God created them, after all! When the Son of God was made human in Jesus, he had a body- of course! If he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have been human. There would be no sacrament of the Holy Eucharist if there had been no Body and Blood of Christ. Without a body, Jesus could not have died for us. And he certainly could not have risen again.
Jesus rose in the body. He ascended into heaven in the body. Mary his mother was assumed into heaven- in the body. There is not, nor has there ever been, a grave or tomb of Mary to which we can make a pilgrimage and say a prayer. That’s because there was no body left behind to bury.
Our bodies will be buried, of course, but that’s not the end of the story. When Jesus comes again at the end of history, there will take place what we call the “general resurrection.” Body and soul will be reunited. But even more than that, our earth and indeed all of creation- the entire cosmos- will be renewed and restored to the perfection God intended for it in the first place. There will be no more decay, no more death. It’s not that heaven will replace earth. Nor is it that the earth will be discarded as being useless. Instead, we believe that when Jesus comes again, heaven and earth will be united as one. Heaven will then truly be like a wedding party, as Jesus described it; all of our senses will be engaged, because our bodies will have been restored, and even glorified.
All of this is for the future, however. Nevertheless, the resurrection of the body has meaning for us even now. First of all, it reminds us that our bodies are good. They’re to be treasured and cared for as God’s gifts. That’s one reason why the Church prefers burial over cremation. Even in death, our bodies are something to be honored.
Furthermore, since our bodies are good, those things we can enjoy with our senses are good: the beauty of the earth, the taste of good food, the warmth of human embrace, the scent of spring time flowers, physical intimacy between husband and wife. God touches our lives through our senses, in the sacraments, though which we receive his grace through the outward signs of bread and wine, water and oil, the spoken word, gesture and touch.
In addition, all this means that the earth and the whole cosmos- with its bounty of resources- are good. They’re to be used responsibly instead of being wasted and exploited; conserved for future generations, instead of being depleted today; to be shared, not hoarded; treasured, not misused. Proper care for our environment happens to be one of the major agenda item for Pope Benedict. In his last message for the World Day of Peace, he stressed: “If you want to cultivate peace, protect creation.”
Mary’s assumption challenges us today to re-think some of our attitudes toward our bodies, our responsibilities for the world we live in, and what it is we hope for in the fullness of life still yet to come. What we do and how we live today, can be a foretaste of what we will enjoy, in the eternal tomorrow.

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

18th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Have you ever thought: “If I won the lottery, I’d give a lot of the money away?” I know I’ve thought that. And maybe we would give a lot away if we ever struck it rich. We are Christians, after all, and we know it’s our responsibility to share our blessings with others.
On the other hand, maybe we wouldn’t give too much away if we found ourselves flush with cash, even if we had intended to do so in the first place. I say this because studies have shown that having money can easily blind and desensitize us to the needs of others, and turn us into very selfish people. We don’t even have to have money for it to affect us in this way. Simply being preoccupied by the thought of money, and wanting to use it for power, control, or to acquire things beyond our basic needs, can have the same negative effect.
In today’s gospel, Jesus warns us against falling into this trap. In a parable, he spoke of a rich man whose farmland had produced a rich harvest. He had far more than he needed for himself. “So many good things stored up for many years,” he said. But he made no mention of wanting to share this with those who had less than he did. Instead, his intentions were purely selfish- to “eat, drink, and be merry.” Some people might have considered this man to be fortunate! But in God’s eyes, to use Jesus’ exact word, he was a “fool.”
This man never did “eat, drink, and be merry,” because he died before he had the chance. But had he lived, one wonders if he truly would have been “merry.” He thought that his wealth would translate into future happiness. But whether it would have remains an open question. Money and happiness don’t always go hand in hand.
It’s true that not having money can lead to unhappiness. Poverty brings with it terrible stresses and frustrations. But study after study has shown that, after a person has enough money in order to meet his or her basic needs, increases in income and wealth do not automatically lead to increased happiness and life satisfaction.
Just consider the United States since World War II. The standard of living has increased dramatically. Inflation adjusted income has nearly tripled, and size of the typical house has almost doubled. Nevertheless, we’re not a happier nation as a whole. In fact, clinical depression is several times more common today than it was thirty years ago.
Part of this has resulted from rising expectations about what we think we should have in terms of possessions. As the people around us have more and more, we ourselves want and expect more and more. We judge what we have, not by asking if our needs are met, but by comparing ourselves to those around us. We tend not to ask, “Does my house meet my needs?” but “Is my house nicer than my neighbor’s?” Psychologists call this “reference anxiety.” The rest of us call it “keeping up with the Joneses.”
And keeping up with the Joneses, who themselves are trying to keep up with other Joneses, can take a terrible toll on us. For instance, we stop feeling grateful for what we have, because we’re too focused on getting the things we don’t have. We work longer hours, making us tired and stressed, and keeping us from the things that really will make us happy, like family, friends, positive leisure activities, helping others, and developing our relationship with God. In an ironic way, our high standard of living in the US may actually be a barrier to finding real happiness. Mother Teresa once stated the problem very well. She said, “When the desire for money comes, with it comes the desire for the things money can provide: superfluous objects, beautiful rooms, luxurious food on our table, more clothes, admirers, etc. Our needs increase, and, because one thing leads to another, the consequence is endless dissatisfaction.” Her assessment was echoed in today’s first reading from Ecclesiastes, which spoke of the futility, or “vanity,” of spending one’s life by chasing after wealth.
But how might we, as Christians, approach the subject of money in a way that’s consistent with our faith? To begin, we should never forget that while money makes a good servant, it makes a very poor master. When money becomes a preoccupation or all-consuming passion, we’re headed down the wrong path. That’s why St. Paul had to warn against what he called the “idolatry of greed” in today’s second reading. But how might money be a servant, instead of a master? Mother Teresa answered this question when she said, “Money is useful only if it is used to spread the love of Christ.” That may sound rather “pie in the sky,” especially when we’re paying our utility bills. But it’s really a very practical outlook which can radically shape our every purchase or financial decision. It leads us to ask questions like, “Why are we doing this?” “What purpose will this serve?” “What would Jesus do?” or “Will this help build the kingdom of God?”
How we answer these questions will vary, depending on our needs and circumstances. In addition, our answers won’t necessarily lead to our living spartan, destitute lives. Instead, these questions should force to reconsider our attitudes toward money, our motives when using money, the distinction between our wants and our needs, and how our money might help meet the needs of others. And hopefully our answers will lead us to use our money in a way that is pleasing to Christ, and for which he will be pleased with us. As St. Basil the Great once wrote, “Your reward for the right use of the things of the world will be everlasting glory, a crown of righteousness, and the kingdom of heaven. God will welcome you; the angels will praise you, and all men who have existed since the world began will call you blessed.”