Twenty-Second Sunday in Ordinary Time

        The Labor Day weekend, for many people in the United States, signals the end of summer and the start of school. School reminds me of a story about a doctor, a lawyer, a Franciscan friar and a college-bound student, in a small private plane. Suddenly the plane's engine conked out. The pilot grabbed a parachute, told the four passengers he had a family of six to support and bailed out. Unfortunately, there were only three parachutes left. The doctor grabbed one, saying: “The medical profession needs my specialty skills,” and he jumped out. The lawyer said: “I’m one of the smartest litigators in the country so I’m taking this parachute,” and he jumped out. The friar said to the student: “You’re a student and have dreams to fulfill. Take the last parachute.” The student replied: “You take it. I’ll use this one. The smartest lawyer in the country just jumped out with my backpack.” Moral of the story: we may not be as smart as we think.

       Seriously, Labor Day is an invitation to take pride in our work. Whatever our life’s work, do it well!!!   Isn’t that what holiness is all about: doing our life’s work as best we can. You've heard the biblical wisdom that says God sends each person into this life with a special message to deliver, a special song to sing, a special act of love to bestow. Yes, each one of us has a purpose in life.

The word of God today takes us back to the 7th century before Jesus (the 600s). Jeremiah is not happy. “God tricked me,” Jeremiah says, into prophesying doom and gloom about Jerusalem. You’ve heard the saying, “If you don’t like the message, shoot the messenger.” That’s precisely what the Hebrews did. They beat up Jeremiah badly. From now on, Jeremiah says, he will keep his mouth shut. But he can't. The word of God is like a fire that consumes Jeremiah, burning him up if he doesn’t shout out God's word.

We might ask ourselves, in light of Jeremiah, whether we speak up when we see wrongs done. If not, when will we? And if we don't, who will?

Paul in his letter to the Christian community at Rome urges us to dedicate our lives—our talents and energies—to God. In light of Paul’s letter, we might ask ourselves whether our everyday attitudes and behaviors are pleasing to God.

In the Gospel according to Matthew, Jesus predicts his passion, death and resurrection. The impetuous Peter shouts out: “God forbid. No such thing will happen to you, Lord.” But God’s ways are not ours. Through the cross, the central symbol of Christianity, will emerge the resurrection, new life. Our faith proclaims that hidden within the mystery of Jesus’ death is the glory of his resurrection. And so too hidden in our own dying is resurrection, life eternal.

    I have been reflecting on the guidance of some of the great saints these last two weeks: Augustine and Benedict, holy men and women whose lives and writings can lift us up out of our routine and into the awesome presence of God.

Today I would like to highlight a stellar 13th-century thinker whose work as a spiritual guide is still relevant in the 21st-century. Thomas Aquinas can mentor us: about our true purpose, the spiritual life and our relationship with God.

Born in 1226, Thomas began his education at the Benedictine abbey at Monte Cassino in Italy and continued his studies at the University of Naples, where he was fascinated with the writings of Aristotle and other philosophers. There he met the Dominican friars, joined them, and began forming his life on the four pillars of Dominican spirituality: common prayer, especially the Eucharist and Liturgy of the Hours; a community life; the study of the mysteries of our faith; and Gospel preaching. In fact, a popular Dominican Latin motto is: “laudare, benedicere, praedicare”: to praise, to bless, to preach (God).

Thomas completed his theological studies at the University of Paris, became a renowned professor and preacher, and eventually began constructing a “Summa Theologiae,” a comprehensive study of our Christian faith: where do we come from (God); where are we going (to God); how do we get there (practicing virtues and avoiding vices); and who and what gives us the capacity to go there (Jesus Christ through the sacraments). Faith, Thomas argued, is a gift from God; it's also a risk but a reasonable one. Faith and reason, Thomas contended, are compatible.

Thomas’s monumental summary examines 512 questions, many of which we ourselves might ask. His process (the so-called article) is rigorous: the question (for example, whether there's a God); then arguments against and for; the author's own point of view; and finally a reply to arguments with which the author disagrees. Colleges and universities today would be well served with a process like Thomas’s in debates about important issues in light of the pervasiveness of “political correctness” on a number of campuses.

Sacraments especially, for Thomas, are tangible encounters with the living Christ. By tangible, it involves our senses. And by encounter, it's a meeting in which the living Christ communicates with us personally: as he did with people in Judea and Galilee centuries before. The seven sacraments--special moments when the living Christ acts through us, the community of his disciples--may be grouped as follows:
Sacraments of initiation (Baptism, Confirmation, Eucharist);
Sacraments of healing (Reconciliation, Anointing of the Sick); and
Sacraments of commitment (Marriage and Holy Orders).

Near the end of his life, Thomas had a vision of God so powerful that he stopped writing, even as his assistants urged him to complete the “Summa.” He humbly replied to their request, “After what I have seen, all that I have written seems to me like so much straw.”  His voluminous writings seemed so worthless in light of his mystical experience of God!
Thomas died in 1274, but his work endures. Worthwhile reading. A theologian par excellence, his writings demonstrate that there are reasonable arguments for faith in God. For example, the design of the universe presupposes a designer; order presupposes an orderer.

Thomas was also a mystic who experienced God in prayer, and a poet whose hymns are still sung today, for example, “O salutaris Hostia and “Tantum ergo Sacramentum.”

Yes, St. Thomas Aquinas, a master in the spiritual life, invites us to discipline our lives so that we can nurture our faith in God.
Take time every day to tune into the presence of God.
Explore participation in our parish faith circles.
Gather on weekends to celebrate the presence of the living Christ in the liturgy of word and sacrament.
Study the bible, for example in our Wednesday study groups.
And understand better the Church’s teachings by googling, for example, “recommended Catholic websites.”

I conclude by asking God to make this prayer of St. Thomas Aquinas our own:
“Grant me, O Lord my God,
a mind to know you,
a heart to seek you,
wisdom to find you,
conduct pleasing to you,
faithful perseverance in waiting for you, and
a hope of finally embracing you.”
Amen.