3 Sun Lent B 12
Ex 20:1-17
A homily by Deacon Joe Stackhouse
March 11, 2012
A favorite topic among Sunday school teachers is the Ten Commandments. One Sunday school teacher was discussing the Ten Commandments with her five and six year olds. After explaining the commandment ‘Honor your father and your mother,’ she asked the class, 'Is there a commandment that teaches us how to treat our brothers and sisters?' Yes, said one little boy. 'Thou shall not kill.'
The story of how Moses received the Ten Commandments on Mt. Sinai is well known. Written by God on two stone tablets, this Divine code was given amid thunder, lightning and smoke on Mount Sinai, and became the cornerstone of the Mosaic Law. The fact that the Commandments were written in stone has a significance all its own. To be written in stone suggests reliability and permanence, something that can’t be changed. What is written in stone has meaning and value that will last forever.
Jesus drew on this aspect of the Ten Commandments when he applied them in new ways throughout his mission on earth. During the Sermon on the Mount, for example, Jesus declared that unnecessary oaths before God were as wrong as false oaths. He condemned hatred and anger as much as murder. He transformed common ideas of retaliation and vengeance into forgiveness and mercy--turn the other cheek, go the extra mile, do not refuse those in need. In this way, Jesus extended the principle of love embedded in the Ten Commandments to include love of enemies as well as love for God and neighbor.
There is an interesting psychology in the way the Commandments are stated. Only two are stated in positive terms—keep holy the Sabbath and honor father and mother. The others are stated in negative terms—thou shall not do so and so. In both cases, however, it’s as if God stated the Commandments in a way that pushes us away from doing things that are harmful to ourselves and to others.
As for what the negative commands push us away from, the first commandment is broad enough to show what all this involves. The first commandment seems simple enough to understand and fairly easy to apply. The ancient Hebrews would have been familiar with this commandment. For, the same message can be found in Psalm 81, which reads: “There shall be no foreign god among you; you shall not bow down to an alien god. I am the LORD your God, who brought you up from the land of Egypt.” In light of the many Roman and Greek gods that were available for the ancient Hebrews to choose from, the point of this first commandment seems fairly obvious.
But for Jesus, each Commandment has meaning and value that go beyond the obvious. With an eye to the first commandment, Jesus tells his disciples, “No servant can serve two masters. He will either hate one and love the other, or be devoted to one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and mammon” (Lk 16:13). The Pharisees who heard this ridiculed Jesus. Because they loved money, they rejected Jesus’ criticism of their lack of compassion for the poor (16:19-31).
The word “mammon” means more than just money, however. It refers to wealth in general and all the things of this world on which we rely. In this sense, Jesus is saying to his disciples, “Be on your guard with money and worldly wealth. It’s not as great as you think. It will fail you in the end. Thus, if you don’t learn to use it wisely, it may very well be your undoing.” Jesus delivered this message because he knows how we can turn anything into our god, especially material wealth.
For us, there remains a question of how to hear his message—how are we suppose to use our material wealth in a spiritually wise manner. Jesus is clear on this point as well. The whole life and mission of Jesus shows us that we must practice justice and mercy with our wealth. We are not to turn our backs on those in need by refusing to share the wealth that we have. All of our wealth—not just our money. And each of us knows what we count as wealth.
There is a passage in the first letter of Timothy that summarizes all of this in a very clear and powerful manner. Verses 17 through 19 in that letter read like this: “Command those who are rich in this present world not to be arrogant nor to put their hope in wealth, which is so uncertain, but to put their hope in God, who richly provides us with everything for our enjoyment. Command them to do good, to be rich in good deeds, and to be generous and willing to share. In this way they will lay up treasure for themselves as a firm foundation for the coming age, so that they may take hold of the life that is truly life (1 Tim 6:17-19). If we make friends with wealth in this way, we can be sure that when it ends, we will find welcome in the Father’s home.
So much for the breadth of the first Commandment. Jesus makes it clear that mercy, compassion, and love are the touchstones in each commandment. One example that illustrates this point is an encounter that Jesus had with the Pharisees in the synagogue, where there was a man who had a withered hand. The Pharisees asked Jesus whether it is it lawful to cure on the Sabbath. They wanted to accuse Jesus of disobeying the Law of Moses, which prohibited healing on the Sabbath. Jesus said to them, “Which one of you who has a sheep that falls into a pit on the Sabbath will not take hold of it and lift it out? How much more valuable a person is than a sheep. So it is lawful to do good on the Sabbath. Then he said to the man, ‘Stretch out your hand’” and the hand was restored as sound as the other (Mt 12:9-13).
Each Commandment lends itself to a similar reflection, interpretation, and application and Jesus knew that. For instance:
The Commandment says: Thou shall not kill; and Jesus says, “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.”
The Commandment says, “Thou shall not commit adultery or covet thy neighbor’s spouse,” and Jesus says, “Blessed are the clean of heart, for they will see God.”
The Commandment says, “Thou shall not bear false witness against thy neighbor,” and Jesus says, “Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.”
The Commandment says, “Thou shall not steal,” and Jesus says, “Blessed are they who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be satisfied.”
Jesus summed up the meaning and value of the entire Ten Commandments in this way: Love God with your whole heart, your whole mind and your whole soul, and love your neighbor as yourself.
Sunday, March 11, 2012
Thursday, February 23, 2012
Prayer and Fasting
Ash Wednesday Year B
Homily by Deacon Joe Stackhouse
February 22, 2012
On Ash Wednesday, it seems appropriate to talk about two traditional themes of Lent. One is prayer and the other is fasting. When it comes to prayer, Jesus is our model. We read in Scripture that Jesus often went out alone to a secluded place and prayed. We can only imagine what the content of his prayer was, but we can be sure that he spoke openly and honestly with his heavenly Father. We can also be sure that, since he came to do the Father’s will, he spent time in prayer discerning what that will might be. If Jesus found it necessary and beneficial to pray to the heavenly father, surely we can do no better. The Lord’s Prayer offers a loving and beautiful way to spend time talking with our heavenly Father, for the words that Jesus gave us contain all that we need to know about how to pray.
When it comes to fasting, we usually think of this in terms of giving up food. Kids are especially fond of this method. My grandson told me that he was going to give up chocolate and diet soda for Lent. He changed his mind about the diet soda, however. The idea of fasting by giving up food is certainly appropriate for adults as well, but there are other ways of fasting. We can give up our critical remarks about others. We can give up our rejection of others. We can give up those ambitions that we know are not in keeping with the Father’s will. There are many other ways of fasting that one can think of with some reflection.
If we apply these two themes to our daily lives during this season of Lent, I suspect that we will be better off at the end of Lent than when we began. Happy Lent.
Homily by Deacon Joe Stackhouse
February 22, 2012
On Ash Wednesday, it seems appropriate to talk about two traditional themes of Lent. One is prayer and the other is fasting. When it comes to prayer, Jesus is our model. We read in Scripture that Jesus often went out alone to a secluded place and prayed. We can only imagine what the content of his prayer was, but we can be sure that he spoke openly and honestly with his heavenly Father. We can also be sure that, since he came to do the Father’s will, he spent time in prayer discerning what that will might be. If Jesus found it necessary and beneficial to pray to the heavenly father, surely we can do no better. The Lord’s Prayer offers a loving and beautiful way to spend time talking with our heavenly Father, for the words that Jesus gave us contain all that we need to know about how to pray.
When it comes to fasting, we usually think of this in terms of giving up food. Kids are especially fond of this method. My grandson told me that he was going to give up chocolate and diet soda for Lent. He changed his mind about the diet soda, however. The idea of fasting by giving up food is certainly appropriate for adults as well, but there are other ways of fasting. We can give up our critical remarks about others. We can give up our rejection of others. We can give up those ambitions that we know are not in keeping with the Father’s will. There are many other ways of fasting that one can think of with some reflection.
If we apply these two themes to our daily lives during this season of Lent, I suspect that we will be better off at the end of Lent than when we began. Happy Lent.
Saturday, February 11, 2012
Hope and Trust in God
6th Sun in Ordinary Time Year B
Gospel of Mark 1:40-45
Homily by Deacon Joe Stackhouse
February 12, 2012
The story about Jesus healing the man with leprosy is a story about faith in God. Today, we tend to think of faith in fairly static terms. In modern terms, having faith in God is commonly understood as believing that he exists, while the content of faith itself is often viewed as a set of beliefs about God. This understanding does not do justice to how the ancient Hebrews understood faith. For them, faith was a two way street. God wanted and sought out a relationship with his people. They responded and entered that relationship by placing their hope and trust in God.
For the ancient Hebrews, faith was an active relationship with God built on a lively belief that God would make good on his promises; that God would indeed do as he said he would. Their lives centered on their faith, which in turn, shaped and influenced the way they lived. In other words, faith in God was a matter of living in a vibrant, dynamic relationship with God. Isaiah expressed faith in exactly these terms when he foretold that God would bring liberation and renewed life to his oppressed people. The prophecy of Isaiah is that God himself will be their savior. This was the basis of the hope and trust that the ancient Hebrews had in the Lord.
This is the background for the story of healing in today’s gospel. That story begins with the first reading from the Book of Leviticus. The ritual provisions in Leviticus led to a rather gloomy predicament for a leper in the ancient world. According to those provisions, lepers were forbidden to come into the city at all, or to live with any others. They had to live apart as though they were dead persons (Josephus).
Such persons lived apart not only because they had a contagious disease. The leper was considered unclean under Mosaic Law because the disease itself was viewed as a punishment for sin. Thus, the leper was no longer holy before God. For this reason, the leper was cut off from the living faith community, and stood to forfeit for all time his or her relationship with God and with others.
The only available remedy in the ancient world was to be healed through a direct intervention by God (Ex. 15:26), or through an appeal to God’s mercy and compassion by a prophet, such as Moses, Elisha, or Isaiah (Ex. 15:25; II Kings 2:21; II Kings 20:7–8). Either way, the one who was afflicted with the disease was expected to pray and fast for healing.
The fortunate person who experienced a cure still had to undergo a process of purification as specified in the Book of Leviticus. First, the person went to the priest, who affirmed that the cure had indeed taken place. Then and only then did the priest initiate the purification process. The priest, however, did nothing to promote the cure. His rituals were performed only after the disease had passed (Dt. 24:8–9).
This context gives deeper meaning to the story in Mark’s gospel. Notice that the man with leprosy does not ask Jesus for healing. Rather, he begs Jesus to make him clean. He says, "If you wish, you can make me clean." This approach alone reveals humility and courage on the part of the leper, as well as hope and trust. For, under Mosaic Law, because he still had the disease, he should not have approached Jesus, and under the Law, Jesus should not have touched him. His desperate need to be among the living once again, however, compels the man to seek Jesus. And, in his compassion, Jesus meets the man where he is. Their encounter shows that hope, trust and compassion are deeper than law and ritual. It also shows that the relationship between believer and Jesus is personal.
The actual request of the leper in these circumstances reveals even more. In essence, his request acknowledges Jesus’ divine power to heal, as well as his authority to forgive sins and welcome the sinner back into the faith community. The leper approaches Jesus with hope for a cure, and he trusts Jesus to respond with compassion. In placing his hope and trust in the person of Jesus Christ to make good on his request, the man with leprosy reveals the true nature of faith in God as a matter of hope and trust. And, Jesus responds to and affirms the authenticity of such faith when he ignores all taboo and stretches out his hand, touches the man, and says, “I do will it. Be made clean."
There are other such stories of those in need of healing who reach out to Jesus, despite social and religious convention to the contrary: Jairus, whose daughter was dying; the woman with the hemorrhage who touched Jesus' cloak; the Roman centurion whose servant was ill. Like the man with leprosy, these folks did not follow social convention or stand on religious ceremony before approaching Jesus. And, Jesus responded to them as he did to the leper—where they were and in their need.
The life and mission of Jesus makes it clear that he is willing to respond to us, and that he wants us to dare to seek him. Jesus wants a relationship with us and he seeks us out. For this reason, Jesus did not restrict who may seek him. Clearly, the man with leprosy sought Jesus WHEN he was in need of healing, BEFORE he was clean. Jesus is not saying: Get holy, and then knock on the door. Rather, Jesus is saying: Knock on the door and I will show you how to be holy. From this personal standpoint, the question may be: What do we want from Jesus. What do we ask for? What do we seek? Where do we knock?
Although each of us will answer these questions in different ways, the encounter between Jesus and the man with leprosy demonstrates that we can approach Jesus no matter what our circumstances. Jesus meets us where we are. He looks for and is eager to respond to the faith that each of us can muster. We can trust that Jesus will respond to our needs with compassion. That is the nature of his love. Our hope is that the man with leprosy will inspire and strengthen our own faith as we seek to follow Jesus more closely in our daily lives.
Gospel of Mark 1:40-45
Homily by Deacon Joe Stackhouse
February 12, 2012
The story about Jesus healing the man with leprosy is a story about faith in God. Today, we tend to think of faith in fairly static terms. In modern terms, having faith in God is commonly understood as believing that he exists, while the content of faith itself is often viewed as a set of beliefs about God. This understanding does not do justice to how the ancient Hebrews understood faith. For them, faith was a two way street. God wanted and sought out a relationship with his people. They responded and entered that relationship by placing their hope and trust in God.
For the ancient Hebrews, faith was an active relationship with God built on a lively belief that God would make good on his promises; that God would indeed do as he said he would. Their lives centered on their faith, which in turn, shaped and influenced the way they lived. In other words, faith in God was a matter of living in a vibrant, dynamic relationship with God. Isaiah expressed faith in exactly these terms when he foretold that God would bring liberation and renewed life to his oppressed people. The prophecy of Isaiah is that God himself will be their savior. This was the basis of the hope and trust that the ancient Hebrews had in the Lord.
This is the background for the story of healing in today’s gospel. That story begins with the first reading from the Book of Leviticus. The ritual provisions in Leviticus led to a rather gloomy predicament for a leper in the ancient world. According to those provisions, lepers were forbidden to come into the city at all, or to live with any others. They had to live apart as though they were dead persons (Josephus).
Such persons lived apart not only because they had a contagious disease. The leper was considered unclean under Mosaic Law because the disease itself was viewed as a punishment for sin. Thus, the leper was no longer holy before God. For this reason, the leper was cut off from the living faith community, and stood to forfeit for all time his or her relationship with God and with others.
The only available remedy in the ancient world was to be healed through a direct intervention by God (Ex. 15:26), or through an appeal to God’s mercy and compassion by a prophet, such as Moses, Elisha, or Isaiah (Ex. 15:25; II Kings 2:21; II Kings 20:7–8). Either way, the one who was afflicted with the disease was expected to pray and fast for healing.
The fortunate person who experienced a cure still had to undergo a process of purification as specified in the Book of Leviticus. First, the person went to the priest, who affirmed that the cure had indeed taken place. Then and only then did the priest initiate the purification process. The priest, however, did nothing to promote the cure. His rituals were performed only after the disease had passed (Dt. 24:8–9).
This context gives deeper meaning to the story in Mark’s gospel. Notice that the man with leprosy does not ask Jesus for healing. Rather, he begs Jesus to make him clean. He says, "If you wish, you can make me clean." This approach alone reveals humility and courage on the part of the leper, as well as hope and trust. For, under Mosaic Law, because he still had the disease, he should not have approached Jesus, and under the Law, Jesus should not have touched him. His desperate need to be among the living once again, however, compels the man to seek Jesus. And, in his compassion, Jesus meets the man where he is. Their encounter shows that hope, trust and compassion are deeper than law and ritual. It also shows that the relationship between believer and Jesus is personal.
The actual request of the leper in these circumstances reveals even more. In essence, his request acknowledges Jesus’ divine power to heal, as well as his authority to forgive sins and welcome the sinner back into the faith community. The leper approaches Jesus with hope for a cure, and he trusts Jesus to respond with compassion. In placing his hope and trust in the person of Jesus Christ to make good on his request, the man with leprosy reveals the true nature of faith in God as a matter of hope and trust. And, Jesus responds to and affirms the authenticity of such faith when he ignores all taboo and stretches out his hand, touches the man, and says, “I do will it. Be made clean."
There are other such stories of those in need of healing who reach out to Jesus, despite social and religious convention to the contrary: Jairus, whose daughter was dying; the woman with the hemorrhage who touched Jesus' cloak; the Roman centurion whose servant was ill. Like the man with leprosy, these folks did not follow social convention or stand on religious ceremony before approaching Jesus. And, Jesus responded to them as he did to the leper—where they were and in their need.
The life and mission of Jesus makes it clear that he is willing to respond to us, and that he wants us to dare to seek him. Jesus wants a relationship with us and he seeks us out. For this reason, Jesus did not restrict who may seek him. Clearly, the man with leprosy sought Jesus WHEN he was in need of healing, BEFORE he was clean. Jesus is not saying: Get holy, and then knock on the door. Rather, Jesus is saying: Knock on the door and I will show you how to be holy. From this personal standpoint, the question may be: What do we want from Jesus. What do we ask for? What do we seek? Where do we knock?
Although each of us will answer these questions in different ways, the encounter between Jesus and the man with leprosy demonstrates that we can approach Jesus no matter what our circumstances. Jesus meets us where we are. He looks for and is eager to respond to the faith that each of us can muster. We can trust that Jesus will respond to our needs with compassion. That is the nature of his love. Our hope is that the man with leprosy will inspire and strengthen our own faith as we seek to follow Jesus more closely in our daily lives.
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Offended by the Lord
Wednesday in Ordinary Time Year B
Gospel of Mark 6:1-6
Homily by Deacon Joe Stackhouse February 1, 2012
Can you imagine being offended by the Lord? Yet, that is what Mark records in his gospel for today. On the Sabbath, Jesus went to the synagogue and began to teach. At first, the people were impressed with his wisdom and with what he had to say. In short order, however, they took offense, although Mark is not entirely clear about the cause of their indignation.
Was it that Jesus spoke as an ordinary person, a carpenter who earned his living, with no religious authority to teach? Was it that he said something that caused them to take offense? Perhaps it was both. Perhaps he first said something that challenged their way of seeing things. And had they accepted what he said, they would have had to change their way of living. Since they weren’t willing to do that, they simply dismissed what he said. An ordinary guy with an opinion they didn’t like was just that. No reason to listen to him. Indeed, they were offended.
We can well imagine the message that Jesus delivered that day. It would have been the same message he repeated throughout his mission on earth: I don’t see any true faith in this place. You are more interested in doing religion than in doing justice. You are more interested in my miracles than in caring for the poor, the vulnerable, the outcast, the sick, the marginalized. You are more interested in religious ritual and celebration than in living a life of loving sacrifice for others. You substitute following religious rules for doing God’s will. This is likely the message that caused the people in his day to take offense, and no wonder. All this from a carpenter, an ordinary person who works for his living; no different from them.
The message that Jesus preached that day so long ago is far more familiar to us than it was to those in the synagogue. His message—as much now as it was then—is a call to follow him, to live a certain kind of life, to be a certain kind of person. The decision to follow Christ is a decision to be a person who is loving, kind, patient, understanding, merciful and just towards others, especially the poor and vulnerable members of society. Or as St Paul puts it, the Christian way of life is life in the Spirit. The Spirit of God helps us be the kind of person we are called to be.
This is what motivates Jesus to say on another occasion, “Blessed is the one who is not offended by me” (Mt 11:6). The invitation that Jesus extends is not a reason to be offended, but a blessing that leads to eternal life. Jesus came that we might have life and have it to the full. For this reason, we are indeed blessed that God so loved us that he became one of us in the person of Jesus Christ. We are blessed that Jesus is like us in every way, as St. Paul says—in failure and success, in sorrow and in joy, in doubt and in faith—in all ways except in sin. Jesus came to show us who the Father is and how we can get to his home. This is the good news that Jesus preached in the synagogue so long ago. We are truly blessed to hear his message once again.
Gospel of Mark 6:1-6
Homily by Deacon Joe Stackhouse February 1, 2012
Can you imagine being offended by the Lord? Yet, that is what Mark records in his gospel for today. On the Sabbath, Jesus went to the synagogue and began to teach. At first, the people were impressed with his wisdom and with what he had to say. In short order, however, they took offense, although Mark is not entirely clear about the cause of their indignation.
Was it that Jesus spoke as an ordinary person, a carpenter who earned his living, with no religious authority to teach? Was it that he said something that caused them to take offense? Perhaps it was both. Perhaps he first said something that challenged their way of seeing things. And had they accepted what he said, they would have had to change their way of living. Since they weren’t willing to do that, they simply dismissed what he said. An ordinary guy with an opinion they didn’t like was just that. No reason to listen to him. Indeed, they were offended.
We can well imagine the message that Jesus delivered that day. It would have been the same message he repeated throughout his mission on earth: I don’t see any true faith in this place. You are more interested in doing religion than in doing justice. You are more interested in my miracles than in caring for the poor, the vulnerable, the outcast, the sick, the marginalized. You are more interested in religious ritual and celebration than in living a life of loving sacrifice for others. You substitute following religious rules for doing God’s will. This is likely the message that caused the people in his day to take offense, and no wonder. All this from a carpenter, an ordinary person who works for his living; no different from them.
The message that Jesus preached that day so long ago is far more familiar to us than it was to those in the synagogue. His message—as much now as it was then—is a call to follow him, to live a certain kind of life, to be a certain kind of person. The decision to follow Christ is a decision to be a person who is loving, kind, patient, understanding, merciful and just towards others, especially the poor and vulnerable members of society. Or as St Paul puts it, the Christian way of life is life in the Spirit. The Spirit of God helps us be the kind of person we are called to be.
This is what motivates Jesus to say on another occasion, “Blessed is the one who is not offended by me” (Mt 11:6). The invitation that Jesus extends is not a reason to be offended, but a blessing that leads to eternal life. Jesus came that we might have life and have it to the full. For this reason, we are indeed blessed that God so loved us that he became one of us in the person of Jesus Christ. We are blessed that Jesus is like us in every way, as St. Paul says—in failure and success, in sorrow and in joy, in doubt and in faith—in all ways except in sin. Jesus came to show us who the Father is and how we can get to his home. This is the good news that Jesus preached in the synagogue so long ago. We are truly blessed to hear his message once again.
Jairus and the details
Tuesday in Ordinary Time Year B
Gospel of Mark 5:21-43
Homily by Deacon Joe Stackhouse January 22, 2012
There are some details in the story about the raising of Jairus’ daughter that don’t receive the attention they deserve. For one, Jairus is a ruler in the synagogue. In that role, he would have been concerned about the observance of the law, especially regarding things clean and unclean. For that reason, Jairus would have known that when the woman who is ritually unclean touched Jesus, he too became ritually unclean at that moment. Jesus then could not heal his daughter by the laying on of hands until Jesus had been purified. Yet, Jairus never raises the issue, and Jesus does not let this breach prevent him from curing Jairus’ daughter. The reason is clear. Love and compassion always trump the requirements of ritual.
Another detail that often gets overlooked is the difference in religious standing between Jairus and Jesus. Jesus has no official standing in the synagogue. Jesus is merely a local carpenter. Indeed, his authority to heal has not been established or approved in any official manner. As a result, asking Jesus to cure his daughter could have cost Jairus his job and his reputation in the religious community. A costly mistake for sure. Nevertheless, Jairus remains undeterred and shows no hesitation in asking Jesus for help. From this perspective, Jairus’ boldness provides an unexpected lesson in trust and humility despite the cost.
One other detail should be mentioned. The faith shared by Jairus and the woman tends to get obscured by the difference in Jesus’ response to each. In responding to Jairus, Jesus does not immediately heal Jairus’ daughter from a distance. Although such a response on his part was clearly possible, Jesus instead simply goes with Jairus without indicating what he will do. Along the way, their journey gets delayed when Jesus responds to a woman who doesn’t even ask to be healed. She simply runs up and touches Jesus, and she is healed on the spot. Jesus responds with praise for her faith. Jairus, on the other hand, must patiently wait for this interlude to end before he and Jesus can resume their journey. When they reach their destination, they meet with further disturbance that Jesus resolves before ultimately healing Jairus’ daughter.
These differences in the way Jesus responds show that Jesus meets us where we are. He looks for and is eager to respond to the faith that each of us can muster. The woman quietly touches his robe, but believes. Jairus approaches him face to face. In both cases, however, their request reveals an unwavering trust and confidence in the love and compassion of Jesus. Their faith demonstrates that we can approach Jesus no matter what our circumstances.
Jesus looks for this same kind of faith in us as well. Our hope is that the trust and confidence expressed by Jairus and the woman will inspire and strengthen our own faith as we seek to follow Jesus more closely in our daily lives.
Gospel of Mark 5:21-43
Homily by Deacon Joe Stackhouse January 22, 2012
There are some details in the story about the raising of Jairus’ daughter that don’t receive the attention they deserve. For one, Jairus is a ruler in the synagogue. In that role, he would have been concerned about the observance of the law, especially regarding things clean and unclean. For that reason, Jairus would have known that when the woman who is ritually unclean touched Jesus, he too became ritually unclean at that moment. Jesus then could not heal his daughter by the laying on of hands until Jesus had been purified. Yet, Jairus never raises the issue, and Jesus does not let this breach prevent him from curing Jairus’ daughter. The reason is clear. Love and compassion always trump the requirements of ritual.
Another detail that often gets overlooked is the difference in religious standing between Jairus and Jesus. Jesus has no official standing in the synagogue. Jesus is merely a local carpenter. Indeed, his authority to heal has not been established or approved in any official manner. As a result, asking Jesus to cure his daughter could have cost Jairus his job and his reputation in the religious community. A costly mistake for sure. Nevertheless, Jairus remains undeterred and shows no hesitation in asking Jesus for help. From this perspective, Jairus’ boldness provides an unexpected lesson in trust and humility despite the cost.
One other detail should be mentioned. The faith shared by Jairus and the woman tends to get obscured by the difference in Jesus’ response to each. In responding to Jairus, Jesus does not immediately heal Jairus’ daughter from a distance. Although such a response on his part was clearly possible, Jesus instead simply goes with Jairus without indicating what he will do. Along the way, their journey gets delayed when Jesus responds to a woman who doesn’t even ask to be healed. She simply runs up and touches Jesus, and she is healed on the spot. Jesus responds with praise for her faith. Jairus, on the other hand, must patiently wait for this interlude to end before he and Jesus can resume their journey. When they reach their destination, they meet with further disturbance that Jesus resolves before ultimately healing Jairus’ daughter.
These differences in the way Jesus responds show that Jesus meets us where we are. He looks for and is eager to respond to the faith that each of us can muster. The woman quietly touches his robe, but believes. Jairus approaches him face to face. In both cases, however, their request reveals an unwavering trust and confidence in the love and compassion of Jesus. Their faith demonstrates that we can approach Jesus no matter what our circumstances.
Jesus looks for this same kind of faith in us as well. Our hope is that the trust and confidence expressed by Jairus and the woman will inspire and strengthen our own faith as we seek to follow Jesus more closely in our daily lives.
Friday, January 20, 2012
Come Follow Me
3rd Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B 2012
Gospel of Mark 1:14-20, January 22, 2012
Homily by Deacon Joe Stackhouse
The story of Jesus calling Peter and his companions in today’s gospel is a rather dramatic story that Mark sums up in just a few lines. The pattern is similar to the other gospel accounts of this encounter. Jesus suddenly shows up in ordinary circumstances, apparently as a stranger, and initiates a conversation with the disciples. Without much fanfare and quite unexpectedly, Jesus invites them to follow him, to take a different path in life.
Jesus provides no details and no hint as to what this might mean for the disciples. The goodness and love of Jesus are so magnetic, however, that the disciples immediately stop what they are doing and do as Jesus says. They begin to follow him. They show no hesitation in placing their trust and confidence in Jesus. Were this to happen today, we would consider their response in such circumstances downright irrational.
And yet, Jesus extends exactly this invitation to us today in much the same way, except that Jesus is no stranger to us. We know more about Jesus than his first disciples knew. Even so, Jesus calls everyone to follow him when he says, “If any man would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it; and whoever loses his life for my sake, he will save it” (Lk 9:23-24). Jesus’ challenge reflects an ancient call to conversion based on fidelity to God as the foundational principle and structure of our lives (cf. 1 Sm 12:14).
Often our response, however, is to choose the lesser god, just as the rich man chose to keep his possessions rather than sell them all, give to the poor, and follow Jesus (Mt 19:21-22). Thus, we have a persistent need for conversion. As Jesus demonstrates with the call of the first disciples, God always takes the initiative. He does not wait for us to look for him; he comes looking for us in the ordinary circumstances of our lives. Following Christ begins with this personal encounter with Jesus, a personal call from God. The encounter compels a response from us. The way we get up and live our lives is in fact our response to this divine call.
In practice, conversion is a life-long journey to manifest the image of God in our lives. Conversion is a central theme in Scripture and key to a biblical understanding of human nature. From a biblical perspective, the mystery of humankind cannot be understood apart from the mystery of God (Congar). This is what motivates St. Paul to claim that, because Christ himself is the perfect image of God (2 Cor 4:4; Col 1:15; Heb 1:3), we must conform ourselves to him (Rom 8:29). According to Paul, our conversion comes about through the power of the Holy Spirit (Rom 8:23). And, Jesus guarantees the outcome in defining himself as the way, the truth, and the life (Jn 14:6).
Following the way of Jesus is a choice and commitment that we deliberately fulfill through our love for others that stems from, and is determined by, our love of God. Love is the overarching moral principle and measure of all human action. Christ emphasized the preeminence of this principle when he said that the greatest commandment is to love God with one’s whole heart and soul and one’s neighbor as oneself (Mk 12:28-34; Mt 22:37-40).
Christ did more than simply call attention to a similar commandment found in Deuteronomy (cf.Dt 6:4-6). Christ made love of God and neighbor his own commandment and enriched it with a new meaning. He did so by equating Himself with each of us as the object of love when He said, “As long as you did it for one of these, the least of my brethren, you did it for me” (Mt 25:40). In this way, Christ “bound the whole human race to Himself as a family through a supernatural solidarity” (Congar). From this standpoint, he established charity as the chief mark of His disciples, saying, ‘By this will all men know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another’” (Jn 13:35).
Love binds us to each other and to God in a dynamic, interconnected relationship. The result is that whatever we do for the “least of his children” we do to and for Christ himself (Mt 25:35). Jesus’ teaching clearly shows that God abides in each human being, and thus whatever we do for the “Other”, we do for God. Likewise, whatever we do to the “Other”, we do to God.
Jesus’ teaching about love of God and neighbor is profound and often challenging because it requires us to see others with the eyes of the soul. With secular eyes, many of the “least” don’t look as we imagine God. Many of the least may look to us, at worst, as demons, and at best, as unproductive and lazy. The least may frighten us, be different from us, or seem undeserving. Serving the least from the perspective of Christ is counter-cultural. Lobbying for the least also may be viewed as unpatriotic.
By contrast, Jesus shows us that we are all equals in our need for love and concern (Lk 10:30-37). In this sense, we are all the least of his brethren. Jesus invites us to do as he does by showing love and compassion for our companion sojourners, however difficult and costly, for this is the true nature of his love. When we follow Jesus, we pattern our spiritual lives after the example of Jesus. We put on the mind of Christ, as St. Paul says. Then we are able to see things as Jesus sees them, with the eyes of love, and be the kind of person Jesus is.
The one major goal of Jesus on earth was to do the will of his heavenly Father. Following Jesus means doing the same thing. We can do the will of God by believing in Jesus and imitating his actions and values in our own lives. Our call is to verify the image and likeness of God in our lives by loving God and loving others as ourselves.
Jesus calls us to this kind of conversion because he wants us to be like God. Jesus continually calls us to be perfect as the heavenly Father is perfect by following in his steps and imitating him (Mt 5:48).
Gospel of Mark 1:14-20, January 22, 2012
Homily by Deacon Joe Stackhouse
The story of Jesus calling Peter and his companions in today’s gospel is a rather dramatic story that Mark sums up in just a few lines. The pattern is similar to the other gospel accounts of this encounter. Jesus suddenly shows up in ordinary circumstances, apparently as a stranger, and initiates a conversation with the disciples. Without much fanfare and quite unexpectedly, Jesus invites them to follow him, to take a different path in life.
Jesus provides no details and no hint as to what this might mean for the disciples. The goodness and love of Jesus are so magnetic, however, that the disciples immediately stop what they are doing and do as Jesus says. They begin to follow him. They show no hesitation in placing their trust and confidence in Jesus. Were this to happen today, we would consider their response in such circumstances downright irrational.
And yet, Jesus extends exactly this invitation to us today in much the same way, except that Jesus is no stranger to us. We know more about Jesus than his first disciples knew. Even so, Jesus calls everyone to follow him when he says, “If any man would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it; and whoever loses his life for my sake, he will save it” (Lk 9:23-24). Jesus’ challenge reflects an ancient call to conversion based on fidelity to God as the foundational principle and structure of our lives (cf. 1 Sm 12:14).
Often our response, however, is to choose the lesser god, just as the rich man chose to keep his possessions rather than sell them all, give to the poor, and follow Jesus (Mt 19:21-22). Thus, we have a persistent need for conversion. As Jesus demonstrates with the call of the first disciples, God always takes the initiative. He does not wait for us to look for him; he comes looking for us in the ordinary circumstances of our lives. Following Christ begins with this personal encounter with Jesus, a personal call from God. The encounter compels a response from us. The way we get up and live our lives is in fact our response to this divine call.
In practice, conversion is a life-long journey to manifest the image of God in our lives. Conversion is a central theme in Scripture and key to a biblical understanding of human nature. From a biblical perspective, the mystery of humankind cannot be understood apart from the mystery of God (Congar). This is what motivates St. Paul to claim that, because Christ himself is the perfect image of God (2 Cor 4:4; Col 1:15; Heb 1:3), we must conform ourselves to him (Rom 8:29). According to Paul, our conversion comes about through the power of the Holy Spirit (Rom 8:23). And, Jesus guarantees the outcome in defining himself as the way, the truth, and the life (Jn 14:6).
Following the way of Jesus is a choice and commitment that we deliberately fulfill through our love for others that stems from, and is determined by, our love of God. Love is the overarching moral principle and measure of all human action. Christ emphasized the preeminence of this principle when he said that the greatest commandment is to love God with one’s whole heart and soul and one’s neighbor as oneself (Mk 12:28-34; Mt 22:37-40).
Christ did more than simply call attention to a similar commandment found in Deuteronomy (cf.Dt 6:4-6). Christ made love of God and neighbor his own commandment and enriched it with a new meaning. He did so by equating Himself with each of us as the object of love when He said, “As long as you did it for one of these, the least of my brethren, you did it for me” (Mt 25:40). In this way, Christ “bound the whole human race to Himself as a family through a supernatural solidarity” (Congar). From this standpoint, he established charity as the chief mark of His disciples, saying, ‘By this will all men know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another’” (Jn 13:35).
Love binds us to each other and to God in a dynamic, interconnected relationship. The result is that whatever we do for the “least of his children” we do to and for Christ himself (Mt 25:35). Jesus’ teaching clearly shows that God abides in each human being, and thus whatever we do for the “Other”, we do for God. Likewise, whatever we do to the “Other”, we do to God.
Jesus’ teaching about love of God and neighbor is profound and often challenging because it requires us to see others with the eyes of the soul. With secular eyes, many of the “least” don’t look as we imagine God. Many of the least may look to us, at worst, as demons, and at best, as unproductive and lazy. The least may frighten us, be different from us, or seem undeserving. Serving the least from the perspective of Christ is counter-cultural. Lobbying for the least also may be viewed as unpatriotic.
By contrast, Jesus shows us that we are all equals in our need for love and concern (Lk 10:30-37). In this sense, we are all the least of his brethren. Jesus invites us to do as he does by showing love and compassion for our companion sojourners, however difficult and costly, for this is the true nature of his love. When we follow Jesus, we pattern our spiritual lives after the example of Jesus. We put on the mind of Christ, as St. Paul says. Then we are able to see things as Jesus sees them, with the eyes of love, and be the kind of person Jesus is.
The one major goal of Jesus on earth was to do the will of his heavenly Father. Following Jesus means doing the same thing. We can do the will of God by believing in Jesus and imitating his actions and values in our own lives. Our call is to verify the image and likeness of God in our lives by loving God and loving others as ourselves.
Jesus calls us to this kind of conversion because he wants us to be like God. Jesus continually calls us to be perfect as the heavenly Father is perfect by following in his steps and imitating him (Mt 5:48).
Sunday, January 8, 2012
I mean this for you
Feast of Epiphany Year B 2012
Mass for Deacon Aspirants January 8, 2012
Homily By Deacon Joe Stackhouse
The feast of Epiphany has a special meaning for me. Many years ago, I was at a low point in my life. In June of 1979, I had no job and no immediate prospects of finding another one. I had very little money in the bank and no assets, except for my car. I was not married at the time and not involved in a serious relationship. My friends and immediate family were close, but I felt alone, depressed and without much hope. As the months dragged on and I did not find another job, my worry and anxiety only increased.
Then, on Epiphany Sunday in January 1980, things began to change. As the lector at Mass on that Sunday, I read the first reading from Isaiah. As soon as I read the words—for the riches of the sea shall be emptied out before you, the wealth of nations shall be brought to you—the Lord said to me, “I mean this for you.” As I am standing there reading, I am also arguing with the Lord. I think to myself, you must be kidding; this can’t be for me. I have just lost everything. You can’t mean this for me. But there it was—nothing else—just the simple, unexplained but clear message “I mean this for you.” I finished reading, sat down, and never mentioned this event to anyone. That was January 1980.
Fast forward three years to Epiphany 1983. By this time, I have found another job in a Catholic hospital and very much enjoy my work. I have met and married my wonderful wife of 30 years, Mary Ann. We have one child and live in our first home. In January 1983, we travel to another state for a visit with Mary Ann’s parents. Her father was a deacon in the Catholic Church, by the way, a member of the first deacon class in this country. During this visit, we all go to Mass on Epiphany Sunday.
As I sit in the pew listening to the same readings from three years before, I have completely forgotten about my previous encounter with the Lord. Then all of a sudden, I hear the same words in the reading from Isaiah—for the riches of the sea shall be emptied out before you, the wealth of nations shall be brought to you. As soon as I hear these words, the Lord said to me, “See what I mean?” Talk about a joyful bolt of lightning!! All of a sudden, I remembered what the Lord had said three years before and I did indeed see what he meant but left unexplained when he said, “I mean this for you.”
From Epiphany 1980 to Epiphany 1983, he led me from feeling sad and lonely to happily married, from being unemployed to enjoyable work, from a sense of poverty to rich in all the important ways. Jesus had literally laid the riches of the world at my feet, just as he had said he would. At that moment, I felt joyful gratitude for all the good the Lord had done for me. That good continues to the present day, and so does my gratitude. This is a major reason why I became a deacon.
Since that Epiphany in 1983, I have come to realize that this story is not only mine. Each of us could tell a similar story because it is a story about Jesus finding us, not about us finding Jesus. It is a story about the hound of heaven, the true Star of Bethlehem, who continually shines his light to show us the way. Each of us has had an unexpected and spontaneous encounter with Jesus that changed our lives. Any encounter with Jesus is life-changing.
Jesus always begins with a gentle call, urging us, imploring us, nagging us, to take a different path. This is often that nagging feeling we have that we should go in a different direction, take another path in life. But Jesus does not lay out all the details with his call. We do not always know where the path will take us, but we follow his call with trust and confidence. We pray that we have made the right decision, but we don’t look back. We go forward with a delightful sense of curiosity about the future, tinged perhaps with the trepidation that always accompanies the unknown. But follow his call we do, and I dare say that none of us has ever regretted it. For, the Lord Jesus always makes good on his end and provides more than we could hope for or even expect. We can trust the Lord.
This is really what the Epiphany story is all about—faith and trust in Jesus who shows us the way. This is what the magi had done. They believed and trusted that the star would show them the way to the newborn king. Although they did not know all the details of the journey beforehand, they went forward with faith and confidence. They never looked back, but surely they felt some trepidation over the unknown. For, they would have to travel far through harsh lands and among people who were not always hospitable to strangers. In the end, the light of the star did not disappoint. The magi safely found their way to the baby Jesus and were elated when they finally saw him with Mary and Joseph. The Holy Spirit then showed them in a dream to go another way home, to follow another path in life to peace and happiness.
In a sense, Epiphany has a special meaning for you at this time in your lives. You are at a crossroads, discerning where Jesus is calling you, in which direction he wants you to go. You may not know which path to take or where it will lead, and you surely do not know all the details of the journey. But, you are going forward with trust and faith in Jesus. At this point, the end of your journey may not be all that clear, but there is no reason to look back. You can trust Jesus to show you the way. His light never fails. For this reason, you can rest assured about the outcome.
Mass for Deacon Aspirants January 8, 2012
Homily By Deacon Joe Stackhouse
The feast of Epiphany has a special meaning for me. Many years ago, I was at a low point in my life. In June of 1979, I had no job and no immediate prospects of finding another one. I had very little money in the bank and no assets, except for my car. I was not married at the time and not involved in a serious relationship. My friends and immediate family were close, but I felt alone, depressed and without much hope. As the months dragged on and I did not find another job, my worry and anxiety only increased.
Then, on Epiphany Sunday in January 1980, things began to change. As the lector at Mass on that Sunday, I read the first reading from Isaiah. As soon as I read the words—for the riches of the sea shall be emptied out before you, the wealth of nations shall be brought to you—the Lord said to me, “I mean this for you.” As I am standing there reading, I am also arguing with the Lord. I think to myself, you must be kidding; this can’t be for me. I have just lost everything. You can’t mean this for me. But there it was—nothing else—just the simple, unexplained but clear message “I mean this for you.” I finished reading, sat down, and never mentioned this event to anyone. That was January 1980.
Fast forward three years to Epiphany 1983. By this time, I have found another job in a Catholic hospital and very much enjoy my work. I have met and married my wonderful wife of 30 years, Mary Ann. We have one child and live in our first home. In January 1983, we travel to another state for a visit with Mary Ann’s parents. Her father was a deacon in the Catholic Church, by the way, a member of the first deacon class in this country. During this visit, we all go to Mass on Epiphany Sunday.
As I sit in the pew listening to the same readings from three years before, I have completely forgotten about my previous encounter with the Lord. Then all of a sudden, I hear the same words in the reading from Isaiah—for the riches of the sea shall be emptied out before you, the wealth of nations shall be brought to you. As soon as I hear these words, the Lord said to me, “See what I mean?” Talk about a joyful bolt of lightning!! All of a sudden, I remembered what the Lord had said three years before and I did indeed see what he meant but left unexplained when he said, “I mean this for you.”
From Epiphany 1980 to Epiphany 1983, he led me from feeling sad and lonely to happily married, from being unemployed to enjoyable work, from a sense of poverty to rich in all the important ways. Jesus had literally laid the riches of the world at my feet, just as he had said he would. At that moment, I felt joyful gratitude for all the good the Lord had done for me. That good continues to the present day, and so does my gratitude. This is a major reason why I became a deacon.
Since that Epiphany in 1983, I have come to realize that this story is not only mine. Each of us could tell a similar story because it is a story about Jesus finding us, not about us finding Jesus. It is a story about the hound of heaven, the true Star of Bethlehem, who continually shines his light to show us the way. Each of us has had an unexpected and spontaneous encounter with Jesus that changed our lives. Any encounter with Jesus is life-changing.
Jesus always begins with a gentle call, urging us, imploring us, nagging us, to take a different path. This is often that nagging feeling we have that we should go in a different direction, take another path in life. But Jesus does not lay out all the details with his call. We do not always know where the path will take us, but we follow his call with trust and confidence. We pray that we have made the right decision, but we don’t look back. We go forward with a delightful sense of curiosity about the future, tinged perhaps with the trepidation that always accompanies the unknown. But follow his call we do, and I dare say that none of us has ever regretted it. For, the Lord Jesus always makes good on his end and provides more than we could hope for or even expect. We can trust the Lord.
This is really what the Epiphany story is all about—faith and trust in Jesus who shows us the way. This is what the magi had done. They believed and trusted that the star would show them the way to the newborn king. Although they did not know all the details of the journey beforehand, they went forward with faith and confidence. They never looked back, but surely they felt some trepidation over the unknown. For, they would have to travel far through harsh lands and among people who were not always hospitable to strangers. In the end, the light of the star did not disappoint. The magi safely found their way to the baby Jesus and were elated when they finally saw him with Mary and Joseph. The Holy Spirit then showed them in a dream to go another way home, to follow another path in life to peace and happiness.
In a sense, Epiphany has a special meaning for you at this time in your lives. You are at a crossroads, discerning where Jesus is calling you, in which direction he wants you to go. You may not know which path to take or where it will lead, and you surely do not know all the details of the journey. But, you are going forward with trust and faith in Jesus. At this point, the end of your journey may not be all that clear, but there is no reason to look back. You can trust Jesus to show you the way. His light never fails. For this reason, you can rest assured about the outcome.
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