October 23, 2016

 30th Sunday in Ordinary Time C Sirach 35: 12-14, 16-18; 2 Timothy 4: 6-8, 16-18; Luke 18: 9-14 “I, myself, me and my shadow”…this is a phrase that an older classmate in the seminary used about people who ‘liked themselves’. This classmate was a very interesting individual…he had graduated from one of the military academies…completed his duty time…got a very responsible position in the computer community and after a while decided that the Lord was calling him to the priesthood. He was ordained…spent a few years teaching in Catholic High Schools and then went to parish work. He died before his 10th anniversary of ordination. He was a real person, very kind and conscious of those hurting around him. He was an inspiration to me. He said over and over that we were placed on this earth to be people of love and everyone needs love. He said that if we ‘like ourselves’ we can’t see those who are hurting. He said, “I pray daily for the gift of awareness of people’s pain and hurt and where my gifts can help them in their need.” He was as selfless a person as I have met. His world was all about others, not an “I” world. It always is a special reflective time to spend time on my needs. Where do I need God? Were do I need the loved people God has placed in my life? Where do I need the support, kindness and care of others? Am I an entity to myself or am I in need? God is a God of love. He created me and each person out of His boundless love. He didn’t create me to be a gift to myself but to be a gift to others. God is not just “mine” or “others”. God has breathed His life into me not solely for my own happiness and satisfaction. God has given life so that all life can be fruitful, helpful, caring and sharing. Am I living accordingly? At the end of the day do I re-visit the people who passed through my life and was I conscious of their needs, gifts, worries, dreams, and specialness? Do I consider myself more important than any of these people? Do I realize that their lives, like mine is a gift? Today’s readings help me to put my daily life and interactions into proper perspective. The Gospel is unusual in the sense that it contains two classes of people: pharisee and tax-collector who were difficult to appreciate. The Pharisees were constantly challenging Jesus because He claimed to be from God. They felt that since they ‘worked for God’ they knew all the ones who were from God and it certainly wasn’t a ‘nobody’ from Galilee like Jesus. The tax-collectors were hated by the people because they collected all the taxes levied by Herod, by Rome, by the Temple, the taxes to maintain the roads , etc. It was not unheard of that they could collect 60%+ of a person’s income. In today’s parable, the Pharisee is at the temple praying quietly to himself. His prayer is one of thanksgiving to God for being a good Pharisee. He says that unlike others, he is not greedy, dishonest, adulterous “or like this tax-collector.” Tax collectors had a huge reputation for being dishonest. The Pharisee didn’t consider himself boastful, prideful or hypocritical. The tax collector’s prayer is a short statement confessing his own sinfulness and begging God for mercy. The shock comes when Jesus tells us that the tax collector went home justified and the Pharisee did not? How come? Jesus spells that out “for whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and the one who humbles himself will be exalted.” The real problem is that the Pharisee somehow felt that his behavior distanced him from the rest of humanity, including this tax collector. I am good… he is not. He is sinful and has failing and weakness, I do not. God’s grace cannot be earned. God does not play favorites. God is merciful to all. We have to be caring and merciful too. Mary Jo Tully in He Walks with Me, Reflections on the Sunday Scripture wrote a beautiful piece on today’s reading. “As a child I would often ask my father how much he loved me. When he couldn’t answer, I would ask, ‘More than you love Jackie? More than Marty?’ and slowly work my way through the family. Nothing could convince me that his love for me could not be measured against his love for anyone else, even my mother. It seems almost characteristic of humans that we think everything can be measured at least by comparison. After all, from infancy we ourselves have been measured by the standards of those who surround us. We have learned that we are taller or shorter, thinner or heavier, brighter or less smart than others. It simply never occurs to most of us that there are some things which cannot be measured by comparison. The Pharisee chose a measure suited to him. He chose to look at the kind of morality outwardly evident in his relationship to God. Sometimes we do this, too. We deliberately choose the norms which will make us look good to ourselves. After all, we are not murderers (never mind that we have never had the provocation). We do not steal (never mind that we have no need and would fear getting caught). We do not lie (never mind that our memories cannot sustain anything but the truth). We seldom offend against any of the commandments as a matter of fact (never mind that having the respect of others prevents it). We even contribute generously to the Church (never mind that we do it just in time for a tax deduction). From the outside we look pretty good and, like the Pharisee of the gospel, our self-righteousness is fed by the undeserved praise of those who surround us. Yes, we might all utter the prayer of the Pharisee ourselves. How strange that the prayer of the tax collector could also be ours, ‘O God, be merciful to me, a sinner.’ The norm for measuring is simply different No matter that we have not taken the physical life of another, we have diminished the life of the spirit of too many. No matter that we have not stolen their goods, we have robbed too many of their dignity. No matter that we have not lied, our silence has robbed others of truth. Ah, yes—be merciful, Lord. The first reading tells us that the Lord is not going to be impressed with the dignities conferred on us by those who do not know us He is going to listen to those we have injured and, more, to those we have not helped. He is going to hear the prayer of our service. It will not matter how many witnesses we can present to the Lord to a test to our virtue. He is the one who will know of our relationship to Him. We gather at this liturgy not to acclaim our virtue but to give praise and thanks for the Father who is always listening to our plea for mercy. We come for the courage to continue to build the relationship we share in the Church and for the motivation to do what is right. The Father has shown us how much He loves us. We accept the challenge to be worthy of His love. And, until that day, we pray: ‘O God, be merciful to us sinners.’ So I reflect on: • When has an awareness of my lowliness helped me pray to God? • Does God’s daily love of me change how I view my mission on earth? • If I compose a list of people God shouldn’t love or save…do I close my door to them or do I always keep my door of love open? Preaching to Adults Teens and Children says: “People often presume that God favors the spiritually mature, the devotionally correct, the morally superior person. The Pharisee is all this and more. He is not an evil person. He is a deeply religious person. Unfortunately, he is a deeply religious person who does not need God. But contrast, the tax collector is spiritually immature, all wrong in his devotional style and in fact, a morally evil person: he steals and extorts money from his own people. Yet his need for God is clear. Like all hurting people, his cry for forgiveness is a lament a to a life that is in disarray. The tax collator knows he is powerless to change, and he throws himself on the mercy of God, asking for help. This is prayer at is most primal level, and it pierces the clouds of heaven the way the annual report prayer of the Pharisee never can.”