Bulletins (Page 15)

At first glance, the connection between the First Reading and the Gospel this Sunday is the cure of lepers, Naaman (in 2 Kings) and the ten (in the Gospel of Luke). But the lesson they teach us is far more. Each received the gift of healing, yet the “gift within the gift” was the desire to give thanks, as did Naaman and only one of the ten whom Jesus healed. If we allow it within ourselves, giving thanks can be the rhythm of our lives. It is not a sign of weakness; our realization of our dependence upon God and others is, in fact, a mature understanding of how we are connected. The Eucharist, which gathers us each Sunday, means “thanksgiving,” – primarily for the saving work of Jesus, but also for all the other graces that we share. One such grace is the Sacrament of Confirmation that we will celebrate in our parish this Sunday. We welcome Bishop Oscar Cantú among us and thank him, not only for bestowing the gift of the Holy Spirit upon our candidates, but for his leadership in our local Church. At the same time, we give thanks to our candidates for Confirmation (in Latin, “confirmandi”), their sponsors, parents, families and catechists for their dedication to the process of formation, which began last January. And we congratulate them on the completion of the Christian Initiation that began at their Baptism. May they continue to grow closer to the Lord and the Church now and always.

People, maybe including many of us, often expect acknowledgment and even praise for our accomplishments. But if we are followers of the Lord, becoming servants – as He was – then whatever we do is our duty or even our privilege. This is not to disregard the good that we do, but to emphasize the faith that underpins our lives and all that we do. According to Jesus, all we need is “faith the size of a mustard seed.” Walking by faith and living the same, our duty of service to one another becomes not a burden, but even a joy. And this joy, which is not the same as superficial happiness, should be seen by all.

Jesus said to the Pharisees: “There was a rich man who dressed in purple garments and fine linen and dined sumptuously each day. . .” Jesus did not fault the rich man (also known as “Dives,” meaning “a rich man”) for being rich, but because of his complete disregard for Lazarus (meaning “God helps”) who was daily lying at Dives’ door, not even given the scraps from the table. Jesus’ teaching echoes the words of God found in the book of the prophet Amos: “Woe to the complacent in Zion! Lying upon beds of ivory. . . Therefore, now they shall be the first to go into exile.” If we want to be counted as one of the Lord’s blessed, we need only be faithful to the words of Psalm 146: Blessed is the person who keeps faith forever, secures justice for the oppressed, gives food to the hungry. The readings at Mass this Sunday challenge us, in the words of an often-quoted phrase: “To comfort the afflicted and to afflict the comfortable.” True religion continues to comfort us and to afflict us, as we need as we grow along the path toward the coming of God’s reign in our lives and, hopefully, in the world.

In this Sunday’s readings, both the prophet Amos and the Gospel of Luke address the attachment to wealth and money. While neither condemns riches, both scripture passages speak of the ways that money can be misused in cheating and abuse of the poor. Our response from Psalm 113, “Praise the Lord who lifts up the poor,” tells of God’s special love for the poor, with this promise, found in verse 8: “He raises up the lowly from the dust; from their misery he lifts up the poor.” For the last 50 years, we have heard the phrase, “preferential option for the poor,” as a challenge to the Church to be like the Lord in our concern and care for the poor. These are among the “marginalized” people that Pope Francis considers to be at the heart of Christian service. Each of us should examine how we live in relation to impoverished people, whether materially or spiritually poor. . .Do we reach out or leave that care to the Saint Vincent de Paul Society or to another agency? We remember the words of Jesus, found in the twenty-fifth chapter of the Gospel of Matthew: “Whatever you did to the least of my brothers and sisters, you did to me.” ________________________

Chapter 15 of the Gospel of Luke is one of my favorites in all the Bible. It could be called “The Lost Chapter,” for it deals with the lost sheep, the lost coin and the lost boy (otherwise known as the parable of the Prodigal Son or of the Merciful Father). The gospel passage this weekend is about the lost sheep and the lost coin. Jesus makes the point of His teaching very clear: I tell you, in just the same way there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous people who have no need of repentance (verse 7). The dynamic of forgiveness and repentance is one of the primary lessons that we learn from the Lord. It teaches us how to be toward one another and it also instructs us on the way God reaches out to each of us. One of the seemingly lost practices of the Church is sacramental confession of sins and reception of absolution. While some few approach the sacrament each week, the sense of sin and/or the appreciation of God’s forgiveness and our reconciliation with the Church is something else that seems lost in the twenty-first century. If we approached the sacrament with an understanding of the “joy in heaven” that the finding of the lost causes and if we realize that Penance/Confession/Reconciliation are offered as encouragement and not condemnation, we might rediscover its immense value in our lives.

Jesus puts before the vast crowd the cost of being His disciple. It is couched in terms of choosing Him over family, of taking up one’s cross and a willingness to commit oneself for a successful outcome. The invitation to take up your cross does not seem to be the way to successful recruitment of followers; but for Jesus it is the challenge to be willing to merge our path with his. In the end, it is the way we can join our lives to the Lord’s life. Our community of faith – this family of families that we call parish and Church – helps us along the way to be counter-cultural, to embrace a way that we might otherwise try to escape. We support one another in living for and with Christ.

“When you hold a lunch or a dinner, do not invite your friends or your brothers or your relatives or your wealthy neighbors, in case they may invite you back and you have repayment. Rather, when you hold a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind; blessed indeed will you be because of their inability to repay you. For you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous” (Luke 14:12-14). With these words, Jesus turns social convention upside down. Specifically directing his hearers not to invite those who could lavish them with gifts and flattery, but to welcome the marginalized, who cannot repay their hosts, the exalted will be humbled and the humbled exalted. It is worth consideration of what it is that motivates us. Who do we aim to please, what kind of people do we welcome into the circle of our lives, our parish, our Church?

We might wonder what was behind the question put to Jesus, “Lord, will only a few people be saved?”. Was the questioner hoping that the number who would be saved would be very small? Or, perhaps, the person was looking for another answer, namely, that salvation was offered to many. Interestingly, Jesus’ answer is both. While many of those who were called will not be able to enter God’s kingdom, even more people– from the farthest reaches of the earth – will find welcome there. For Jesus, it was not a matter of religion or geography, but of one’s willingness to “enter through the narrow gate,” to welcome Jesus’ way and live it. Even though He uses this imagery, the circle Jesus draws includes all kinds of people, rather than trying to exclude anyone. This inclusivity extends to us and is a challenge for us also to draw the circles of our lives broadly, allowing as many people in as possible. I say that it is a challenge, because many of us are comfortable only with those whom we consider to be like ourselves. Our richly diverse parish family is rich because of its diversity. And still we rejoice in our unity in the Lord. May the tapestry of our lives be the same.