Tuesday, December 10, 2013

First Sunday of Advent - A (December 1, 2013) Homily


 
First Sunday of Advent - A (December 1, 2013)
 Readings: Isaiah 2: 1-5/ Romans 13: 11-14 / Matthew 24: 37-44
Fr. Charles Johnson, OP
 
          If I ask what you long for in life, will it be the same as what you prepare for?  Is what you expect to come to pass the same as what you hope for?  In other words, are your expectations similar to or compatible with your hopes? In today’s readings, ranging from the prophet Isaiah to St. Paul to the Lord’s admonitions in the Gospel according to Matthew, we get an interesting mix of longing and the need, sometimes urgent, for preparation.  The prophet Isaiah leads us to aspire to greater ideals that we long for but rarely seem to experience, whereas St. Paul and Jesus call us to be awake and prepared for the Lord’s coming and not be lulled into complacency. At the same time, I cannot help but perceive that woven into the message of Jesus is the challenge to us that what we long for must be compatible with what we expect to happen or even prepare for.  In other words, the good Lord not only calls out to us to be prepared, but to know what and who it is that we await, or better put, who it is that we long for, who it is that we must make room for in our lives.
         The eating and drinking, marrying and being given in marriage were not really the issue.  Rather, the problem was and is the living of life without making space for God and the needs of a suffering world all around us. When St. Paul and Jesus admonish us to “stay awake,” it is not about spiritual insomnia, but having a disposition and attitude of longing for God and believing that his promises are real and meant to come to pass in our time and in eternity. The great rabbi Abraham Heschel wrote, “What makes you think you will like heaven, if nothing in your life on earth resembles it.”  Earthly existence surely is not heaven and vice-versa.  However, Christ gives us the means to make sure the two are not strangers.  
It has to do with understanding our earthly weaknesses as reasons for trust in the Lord’s heavenly remedies.
 
It has to do with our knowing and trusting Jesus in the here and now, so we are able to recognize him not only in the future but also in the present. 
 
         Recognize Christ on high and his face in our neighbor.  Knowing and trusting Jesus in our day and age, so that his mercy and peace might truly be both gifts to share and gifts to come. The vision of peace given by the great prophet, of “beating swords into plowshares,” seems like a utopia.  If that’s the case, it’s because we’ve let what we expect take precedence over who and what we hope for. For those who love as God commands us, the coming of Christ is not a threat, but an eagerly-awaited blessing.  A blessing we are meant to embrace and enjoy today and tomorrow.  The Lord comes to us because he loves us.  In the end, being prepared is not limited to being vigilant, but being open to receive his mercy and peace believing and hoping in the good that follows.
Ready or not, Jesus is coming.  Ready or not, he’s already here.
Advent blessings,
Fr. Charlie  


 

Second Sunday of Advent - A (December 8, 2013) Homily


Second Sunday of Advent - A (December 8, 2013)

Gospel reading:  Matthew 3: 1-12

Fr Charles Johnson, O.P.

 

One of the great spiritual writers of our time, Padre Ignacio LarraƱaga, a Capuchin Franciscan priest who lived in Chile, died in late October at 85 years of age.  I had the privilege of hearing him give a talk 4 years ago in the city of Guayaquil, Ecuador, where I served in mission. 

 

In spite of his advanced age, he told the nearly 1,000 people in attendance a story of an imaginary conversation between John the Baptist and Jesus. 

 

John, with the full force of his prophetic clarity said that the time had come.  “The ax lies at the root of the trees and the time had come to cut them down.  Religious and social corruption had taken root and the only remedy was to chop them down, but from the roots.” 

 

Fr. LarraƱaga’s tone changed as he switched to give the response of Jesus, who with equal firmness replied, “No, it’s all about my Heavenly Father’s mercy.  That is what is needed.  Always mercy, the cutting can wait”

 

The effect of the message was palpable.  We had come to hear the words of wisdom of a contemporary spiritual master.  However, instead of an ethereal message, we were brought to the depths of God’s very essence: mercy, simple mercy.  Be patient, let God’s mercy do what is needed.

 

Yes, John the Baptist was right.  He looked upon the hypocrisy of the Pharisees and Sadducees as well as the immorality of his time and saw it all for what it was: a failure to recognize sinfulness in its many forms and the need for sincere repentance.  The same can be said for us and our day and age. 

 

The hard-hitting message of John the Baptist had drawing power.  It was obviously very cathartic and brought about sincere conversions in the people who came to him.

 

However, John the Baptist’s perspective needs more, it needs grace. It needs Christ to be complete and to have staying power.   Perhaps John the Baptist needed a little more patience.

 

Pope Francis writes that “we cannot but admire the resources that Jesus used to dialogue with his people and teach them and reveal his mystery to all.” The “secret,” the Pope says, “lies in the way Jesus looked at people, seeing beyond their weaknesses and failings.”

 

Seeing and going beyond our weaknesses and failings to get at the love he himself has given us. Jesus knows where that love is sometimes hidden, do we?  Take the time in prayer to open up your heart to his light; it might be a surprise what we discover. 

 

John the Baptist recognized more the obvious, the sinfulness and hypocrisy of his age.  However, we need Jesus to recognize what is sometimes less obvious to us: that beyond all the sin and suffering that seem to occupy center stage and get all the attention, his love is at work; his grace is alive. 

 

Sometimes the getting beyond our weaknesses and failings, our sinfulness, requires some work.  However, for Jesus it’s not that it takes time, but love.  Keep in mind what St. Peter teaches us in his second letter: “Consider the patience of our Lord as salvation.”  

 

Even in the coldest of hearts, the patient mercy of Christ can find the warmth of love.  How?  Well, it’s a love that he puts there …. Have we let it take root? 

 

The good news is that God prefers to prune the vines and not cut them down.  He longs for us to be fruitful branches, not firewood.

 

Advent blessings,

Fr. Charlie

 




Brothers and Sisters in Christ,

 

Advent Greetings!  You've probably heard it many times before that Advent is a time of waiting and preparation for the coming of Christ, in anticipation of the birth of the child Jesus.  It has much to do with time and how we use it.  For most of us, the month of December brings more activities and obligations that clamor for our attention.  It can seem obvious that time and patience tend to be in short supply.  Also, it can be easy to wonder, do the situations we find ourselves in rule us or are we able to bring things to a reasonable pace that respects our need for health of body and soul?  Little peace within us and between us and those who make up our world will also result in little attention being given to God's presence in our midst.  In pondering our daily routines and obligations, consider the wisdom of Blessed Pope John Paul II:  "Do not be afraid to give your time to Christ! Yes, let us open our time to Christ, that he may cast light upon it and give it direction." 

 

God bless,

 

Fr. Charlie


Monday, November 18, 2013

Gospel Reading: Luke 20: 27-38/ Homily (Nov. 10, 2013)


XXXII Sunday Ordinary Time – C (Nov. 10, 2013)

Gospel reading: Luke 20: 27-38

Fr. Charles Johnson, O.P.

 I’ve just experienced a week framed by deaths.  One, a Dominican priest who lived in Texas, died only weeks after being diagnosed with an aggressive and incurable lung condition.  The other was a recently retired professor and member of our Catholic community here at Tulane, who succumbed to an equally aggressive cancer.

Thankfully, both were spared long agonizing illnesses.  Still, the losses have left me and many others in a state of mild disbelief.  These were gentlemen I recently had the opportunity to chat with and all seemed well.  They are gone now, but each one touched the lives of many people over the years.  

Both cases seemed rather sudden, but both were able to “let go” in their respective deaths.  I do not consider them as deceased, but as having passed on.  That seemed to be their understanding as well.  

In the midst of life, death is never very far removed.  How do we deal with death or how do we view it?  For some, death can bring on a sense of existential angst.  Others might find denial to be the best policy.  

Still, death is there.  It can be painful.  The emptiness brought on by the absence of a loved one is a difficult burden.  Try as we might, preparing for the death of a loved one is an elusive task.  

Fr. Henri Nouwen writes, “The same love that forms the basis of our grief is also the basis of our hope.”  In other words, our hope is authentic the more it is in relationship with our suffering.  Hope is not a feeling, but God’s response to our fears and weaknesses.

In the banquet of life, do we consider death as an unwanted and unwelcome guest?  Or, do we leave a space at the table and in our lives for the mystery of death?  

Do we fully understand what Jesus teaches us when he says, “He is not God of the dead, but of the living, for to him all are alive.”   

Do we recognize in the example and words of Jesus that life is greater than death?  That in his giving of himself, we might have life and have it to the full – A fullness that transcends and goes beyond the limits of what we know, but, hopefully, not beyond what we believe and trust.

In reflecting on his own personal struggle and questions on this deep subject, Fr. Nouwen says that often it is the case that our souls know about the victory of Jesus over death, but that our minds and emotions have not fully accepted it.  

He writes that we need to trust the victory of Christ over the power of death and let our mind and emotions gradually be converted to the truth – the truth that God’s mercy and love go beyond the grave.  

In Him, all are alive.  Does the love of God need for a heart to still be beating in order to be effective?  

In the letter to the Romans, St. Paul writes, “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.”  

Through our baptism, the Church teaches that we are united to the death and resurrection of Christ.  It’s not about sharing the same experiences, but union with Him.  

Death changes how we relate to Jesus, but our relationship with him is eternal.

Monday, October 28, 2013

10/27/2013 Homily Gospel reading: Luke 18: 9-14

Gospel reading: Luke 18: 9-14

Fr. Charles Johnson, O.P.

                  
The recent lecture here on campus had an enticing title, “The Persistence of Guilt in a Post-Religious Age.”  As always, the questions afterwards were interesting.   One question from the audience, more like a commentary, was given in a self-assured manner as the person commented that “modern science and technology have shown that morality does not exist in reality” and “we, as human beings, are not moral agents.” 

Still, no matter what science and technology have shown, evil persists.  People still commit harm against themselves and one another, in words, deeds and thoughts and omissions.

Sigmund Freud thought he had wrapped it all up nicely as he taught that the “demands of conscience (or the ‘super-ego’) are simply a continuation of the severity of the external authority.”

Not even the simplistic views of Freud are sufficient for dealing with the real world.

After all the explanations that seek to remove any vestige of morality and faith from the sphere of human behavior, we still remain with questions of a world complicated, not by the persistence of guilt, but by the reality of evil and, even, sin.   

Where do we turn?  Forget Freud, he also said that it was not reasonable to love your neighbor as yourself.  He held that he could not love a stranger unless that person offered him some benefit. 

Freud said that “not only would it be hard to love his neighbor, but that it would be wrong to do so.”  Well, if that’s how you understand love, then you’ll end up thinking you’re incapable of doing any wrong or evil.  He confused love with selfishness.

Even the most intelligent and gifted of individuals can also be very difficult to live with.

We need faith and honesty to make us real. 

In his recent interview in a leading Jesuit journal, Pope Francis was asked who he is, “who is Jorge Mario Bergoglio?”  He responds, in all honesty, “I am a sinner whom the Lord has looked upon. … I am a sinner, but I trust in the infinite mercy and patience of Jesus Christ, and I accept in a spirit of penance.”

No hint of a man burdened by guilt or any guilt-complex.  The Holy Father knows he is not perfect. 

Pope Francis knows that in life he has committed sins and that he needs God to forgive him.  I’m sure he would be among the first to ask forgiveness of any person he might have offended.

In today’s Gospel parable, we hear of two sinners.  One knows he is a sinner, while the other, from a self-imposed and mistaken sense of moral superiority, thinks he is not a sinner. 

One is humbled by honest recognition of his condition, while the other becomes arrogant as he prizes his good deeds. 

One asks for mercy, while the other seems incapable of giving it, even in his thoughts. 

One acknowledges that he needs God, while the other fellow seems to think that God needs him. 

Fr. Ron Rolheiser writes that “to sin is to betray – in love.  To have lost a sense of personal sin is to have lost a sense of being personally and deeply loved.”

He is not seeking to water down the understanding of sin, but place it more in our hearts, so that in our minds we don’t keep making excuses.  

When it comes to guilt and sin, rationalizations are not very helpful.  Rationalizing can take us further away from the wrong we’ve done, said or thought.   

Sadly, it also takes us further away from others and makes us think we do not need to be near Him - Jesus - the only one who truly cares to take sin and guilt away from us.  
 
It’s spiritually healthy for us to consider ourselves as Pope Francis does himself, as sinners. 

Jesus looks upon us and sees us for who we are.  He never turns away.  He doesn’t just know how to heal and forgive us, he wants to.   He believes in us.  Hopefully, we believe Him.

Tuesday, October 22, 2013

Homily for XXIX Sunday (Oct. 20, 2013): Gospel reading: Luke 18: 1-8


Homily for XXIX Sunday Ordinary Time -C (Oct. 20, 2013)

 Gospel reading: Luke 18: 1-8

Fr. Charles Johnson, O.P.

 

For a time, I entertained the idea of law school.  As a political science major, it was often a topic of conversation with classmates as some of them are now attorneys.  However, in classes and later work in the political field where I had and interpret statutes and legal codes, I soon realized that law school and being a lawyer were not for me.  I found legal statutes as complicated as advanced mathematical equations!  Interestingly enough, I find philosophical and theological discourses easier to understand and, even, enjoyable to read. 

I don’t suppose the widow in today’s Gospel parable was a scholar of the law.  She might have found the legal system difficult to understand.  Given the precarious social standing of widows in the time of Jesus, she likely felt vulnerable in facing the legal system and judges. 

Still, she manages to get the just decision she needed.  Very likely, her survival depended on it. 
The widow’s expectation of a just decision was one thing, but the hope and need for justice were what kept her going.  You can almost picture the widow hanging around at the door of the tribunal, knowing that the dishonest judge would have to pass by eventually to get in or out.  Many days, she probably just out-waited him. 

For the widow and anyone facing great odds or a system stacked against them, the struggle can be overwhelming.  Each fall or setback must be matched with a continual getting back up on your feet. 

Persistence? Yes, but something greater was and is at work.  In a word, faith.  Perhaps a better term than persistence is perseverance – almost like persisting, but with sincere purpose, no matter how hopeless the situation might appear.  Appear hopeless, not truly be. 

In a similar situation or other difficult experience, what keeps us going?  How and why do we get back up on our feet and keep persevering, keep struggling and ….. keep loving? 

What’s your secret?  Hopefully, it’s the same as mine.  One that I do not always understand, but I know I can trust it – faith.  An overused and underappreciated term. 

Without it, I’m convinced, not only do we lose hope and the strength to continue, but we also lose sense of purpose.  In life, it seems we rarely get a complete answer when the question, Why? pops up on our radar.  Even so, in faith, we somehow perceive and trust that there is an answer. 

Not in a statute or law, but in Christ who not only told the truth, but puts flesh and bone on it.  Truth, what a concept!  No, what a person, what a Redeemer!  

Pope Francis writes that “following Christ is not a titanic effort of the will, the effort of someone who decides to be consistent and succeeds, a solitary challenge in the face of the world.”   “Following Christ,” in his words, “is not a never falling down, but an always getting up again.”   

Sometimes it might seem that all we have is prayer.  It won’t let us down.

Dr. Martin Luther King wrote that one night in a state of exhaustion and after many malicious threats on his life all he could do was turn to God and in prayer he said, “I’m at the end of my powers.  I have nothing left.  I’ve come to the point where I can’t face it alone.”  At that moment, he said he experienced the presence of God as he never had before.

The signs of the time might indicate that injustice and evil often seem to win out, but such an attitude was not that of the widow in today’s parable.  Like many courageous and God-trusting people, the widow managed to always get up, time and time again.  She seemed to understand.   The time of this world passes by; the Lord’s justice and mercy are eternal and …. trustworthy.

Thursday, October 17, 2013

XXVIII Sunday Ordinary Time (C) – October 13, 2013 ~ Gospel reading: Luke 17: 11-19


XXVIII Sunday Ordinary Time (C) – October 13, 2013 ~ Gospel reading: Luke 17: 11-19
Fr. Charles Johnson, O.P.

 

Have you ever been frustrated by thinking up the perfect comeback in a discussion or argument, but well after the fact?  Or, maybe you have thought of how you should have acted in a similar moment, only to regret that the opportunity is now part of the past.

Personally, I have, on occasion, found such experiences, and my posterior thinking, to be a little frustrating.  However, maybe the Holy Spirit is at work in ways we might not fully appreciate in those moments.

Very often, our “reactions” run the risk of not being the most charitable.  We can often regret what we might say in certain moments of tension.  So, being slow to react can sometimes be a good thing.  Maybe we should be thankful.  Perhaps, such experiences of minor frustration have more to do with wishing we could have reacted better in a particular situation, instead of how we should respond.  

Reacting and responding might appear to be very similar and spontaneous in character, but they can be quite different.  They can be very different in origin, intention and effect. 

Reacting, very often, is more reflexive in nature and can be harsh.  Even the terms we use, such as to make a good come-back or get the last word, to snap back or recoil, do not conjure up images of cooperation and friendliness.

To distinguish the two, let’s consider the Samaritan leper who Jesus healed.  I would say that responding has as much to do with our interior disposition as it does with what we experience from others or on the outside. 

Jesus healed spontaneously and, I imagine for those ten lepers, unexpectedly.  Keep in mind that lepers in the time of Jesus were not the recipients of much care or concern from others.  Sadly, though, even rejection and the pain of isolation can harden the hearts of those who suffer. 

They all wanted to be cleansed, but it seems that the one grateful Samaritan believed that Jesus would do the good deed they clamored for because he trusted in the Lord’s compassion for them. 

That one man’s inner disposition was obviously different from the rest.  The Samaritan responded spontaneously because he had a grateful, not hardened, heart. 

He not only knew who to thank first, he also knew the good that had been done to him.  He was not only cleansed, but more than that, he was healed.  There one can discern the distinction – react or respond. 

In the Nazi death camp of Auschwitz, St. Maximillian Kolbe saw the ten men pulled aside for execution.  When he realized that one of them had a wife and children, the saint stepped forward and offered himself in place of the husband and father.  A reaction?  No, it was a response born of love.

On the surface, St. Maximillian’s gesture seems spontaneous.  It was, but it was far from being rash or impulsive.  It was, truly, a response and not a reaction. 

Spontaneity in the name of love has deep roots of faith and gratitude.  


Gratitude is one very simple and holy way to make the sometimes mindless movement of the world slow down.  Try saying, “thank you” to others and notice the reactions you get.

As the healed Samaritan ran back to Jesus to give thanks, he seems to put time in reverse.  But in that moment, there was no backing up, but a going forward in faith.  

Fr. Henri Nouwen writes that one of his turning points in life occurred when he realized that his life belonged to others just as much as it belonged to himself.  He understood that because he trusted that no matter what, he was, like all of us, God’s beloved. 

With that a your starting point, be assured that while you might not always react in the most winning fashion, your response will be one that does not bring you regret, but more faith.

First, be grateful, then you will know the “who, what, when, where, how and why” of saying “thank you.”  Perhaps, it will be the first step of making the world more like a home for others, and for Christ.

Thursday, August 29, 2013

Pope Uses Communion Wafers Made By Woman Prisoner in Argentina

Pope Francis has been using Communion wafers made by an Argentine prisoner in daily Masses at the Vatican’s Santa Marta residence. Click on the link to read more: