Once again, our downtown streets are humming with the “Grand Prix” race.
And it’s tax season again. I read about a man who stormed into the post office, waving several pieces of mail. “For weeks I've been pestered with threatening letters,” he shouted, “and I want something done.” The postmaster calmly replied. “It's against the law to mail threats. Who's sending these letters?” The man snapped, “It's the IRS.” Moral of the story: don't mess with the IRS.
The word of God takes us back to the second century before Jesus. The wisdom of Sirach is a collection of advice about how to live well, choosing between right and wrong.
The author emphasizes that our words reveal who and what we are, for better or worse. He makes his point using three different images: a strainer from farming; fire from pottery; and a fruit tree. And you may be thinking it's best to just keep one’s mouth shut.
Sirach may be asking us: do our words build people up or tear them down? Are we constructive or destructive? Do we try to affirm people or are we just criticizing them? Think about it.
St. Paul in his letter to the Christian community in Corinth waxes eloquently about our future. One day our perishable mortal bodies will be clothed with immortality. In the liturgy for the dead, we hear, “for those who believe, life is changed, not ended.”
Yes, our faith proclaims that because Jesus Christ lives, we live. Just as God transformed Jesus into a new kind of spiritual embodiment, so too God will transform us in death into a new heavenly life.
In light of our destiny, Paul urges us to live a godlike life.
In the Gospel, Jesus says: don't be quick to point out the faults of others while blind to your own shortcomings. Don't be hypocrites. Let your attitudes be in sync with your behaviors. Yes, be men and women of integrity, true to that inner voice we call conscience.
This coming Wednesday we begin the Lenten season (from Ashes to Easter). It’s a time to renew ourselves spiritually; to make sure our priorities are straight.
Leo Tolstoy, the Russian author, can be a good spiritual guide. Many of us had to read War and Peace in school. But he also wrote shorter, profound parables, good reading for Lent.
For example, A Confession describes Tolstoy's search for purpose in life. He discovered that the simple farm people of Russia found the answer to this question through their lively Christian faith: their relationship with the triune God and one another.
Perhaps Tolstoy’s masterpiece was the 75-page novel The Death of Ivan Ilyich. Ilyich, in exchange for luxury and status, has sacrificed his authenticity and integrity. The result is a spiritual barrenness. On his deathbed, Ilyich is terrified.
Most characters in the novel view what Ilyich's death means for their own benefit. His best friend competes with his widow in seeing who can pretend to be more devastated. The selfishness is obvious.
Ilyich's servant who attends to him is everything Ilyich is not: humble, poor, devout, and selfless. Ilyich manages to learn just before his last breath the purpose of his life. Tolstoy suddenly bathes Ilyich in light but leaves the reader in suspense about his salvation or damnation.
This short novel can be powerful Lenten reading because Lent is about asking who and what are our priorities. We follow Jesus who went into the wilderness for forty days to ask the same questions.
The twentieth century novelist Frederick Buechner gives us an examination of conscience in these questions:
“If you had only one last message to leave to the handful of people who are most important to you, what would it be in twenty-five words or less? Of all the things you have done in your life, which is the one you would most like to undo? Which is the one that makes you happiest? If this were the last day of your life, what would you do with it?”
This examination of conscience can be a pretty depressing business, Buechner notes, “but if sackcloth and ashes are at the start of it, something like Easter may be at the end.”
As we begin again the Lenten season, let us ask God for the grace to make sure our priorities are straight and pursue them anew. Amen.
Eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Once again, our downtown streets are humming with the “Grand Prix” race.
And it’s tax season again. I read about a man who stormed into the post office, waving several pieces of mail. “For weeks I've been pestered with threatening letters,” he shouted, “and I want something done.” The postmaster calmly replied. “It's against the law to mail threats. Who's sending these letters?” The man snapped, “It's the IRS.” Moral of the story: don't mess with the IRS.
The word of God takes us back to the second century before Jesus. The wisdom of Sirach is a collection of advice about how to live well, choosing between right and wrong.
The author emphasizes that our words reveal who and what we are, for better or worse. He makes his point using three different images: a strainer from farming; fire from pottery; and a fruit tree. And you may be thinking it's best to just keep one’s mouth shut.
Sirach may be asking us: do our words build people up or tear them down? Are we constructive or destructive? Do we try to affirm people or are we just criticizing them? Think about it.
St. Paul in his letter to the Christian community in Corinth waxes eloquently about our future. One day our perishable mortal bodies will be clothed with immortality. In the liturgy for the dead, we hear, “for those who believe, life is changed, not ended.”
Yes, our faith proclaims that because Jesus Christ lives, we live. Just as God transformed Jesus into a new kind of spiritual embodiment, so too God will transform us in death into a new heavenly life.
Considering our destiny, Paul urges us to live a godlike life.
In the Gospel, Jesus says: don't be quick to point out the faults of others while blind to your own shortcomings. Don't be hypocrites. Let your attitudes be in sync with your behaviors. Yes, be men and women of integrity, true to that inner voice we call conscience.
This coming Wednesday we begin the Lenten season (from Ashes to Easter). It’s a time to renew ourselves spiritually; to make sure our priorities are straight.
Leo Tolstoy, the Russian author, can be a good spiritual guide. Many of us had to read War and Peace in school. But he also wrote shorter, profound parables, good reading for Lent.
For example, A Confession describes Tolstoy's search for purpose in life. He discovered that the simple farm people of Russia found the answer to this question through their lively Christian faith: their relationship with the triune God and one another.
Perhaps Tolstoy’s masterpiece was the 75-page novel The Death of Ivan Ilyich. Ilyich, in exchange for luxury and status, has sacrificed his authenticity and integrity. The result is a spiritual barrenness. On his deathbed, Ilyich is terrified.
Most characters in the novel view what Ilyich's death means for their own benefit. His best friend competes with his widow in seeing who can pretend to be more devastated. The selfishness is obvious.
Ilyich's servant who attends to him is everything Ilyich is not: humble, poor, devout, and selfless. Ilyich manages to learn just before his last breath the purpose of his life. Tolstoy suddenly bathes Ilyich in light but leaves the reader in suspense about his salvation or damnation.
This short novel can be powerful Lenten reading because Lent is about asking who and what are our priorities. We follow Jesus who went into the wilderness for forty days to ask the same questions.
The twentieth century novelist Frederick Buechner gives us an examination of conscience in these questions:
“If you had only one last message to leave to the handful of people who are most important to you, what would it be in twenty-five words or less? Of all the things you have done in your life, which is the one you would most like to undo? Which is the one that makes you happiest? If this were the last day of your life, what would you do with it?”
This examination of conscience can be a pretty depressing business, Buechner notes, “but if sackcloth and ashes are at the start of it, something like Easter may be at the end.”
As we begin again the Lenten season, let us ask God for the grace to make sure our priorities are straight and pursue them anew. Amen.
