What Time Is It?
"And then they will see 'the Son of Man coming in the clouds' with great power and glory.”
Saints Sergius and Bacchus Chapel
Palm Springs, California
Homilies for Sundays and Special Feast Days
"And then they will see 'the Son of Man coming in the clouds' with great power and glory.”
“For they have all contributed from their surplus wealth, but she, from her poverty, has contributed all she had.”
“’Hear, O Israel! The Lord our God is Lord alone!’”
Last week, Jesus addressed that question to James and John who wanted places of honor in God’s kingdom. Today, he addresses it to a blind man…and to us.
For the Son of Man did not come to be served but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many.
Scripture Reading Jesus drives a hard bargain. In today’s gospel, we find a man who apparently had it all: he was young, he was enthusiastic, he was spiritual, he was […]
In his private talk with his disciples, Jesus is quoted as being more forthright. He calls divorce and remarriage adultery. At the same time, this stance contradicts our nearly universal human experience. Can we resolve this contradiction? Obviously, Jesus is appealing to an ideal of marriage. We have to ask, is every committed union of two people—even a solemnized commitment—a real marriage? What is a marriage, anyway?
Strangely enough, the reward and punishment paradigm has no place in an adult spirituality. The basic problem with it is that, once people get beyond the toddler stage, the pleasure principle isn’t effective—although the success of advertising shows we’re still vulnerable to it. As we mature, we begin to realize that rewards don’t deliver what they promise. Once we attain them, we see them as the temporary tawdry counterfeits for happiness that they most often are. Punishments don’t fare any better.
What are you willing to give to get your own way? How much effort are you willing to expend? What are you willing to pay? to sacrifice? What’s it worth to you?
“Who do people say that I am?” Listen to the news. Listen to the talking heads. Listen to the preachers. Watch the Jesus documentaries on the Discovery Channel. Fine. “But who do you say that I am?” “You are the Christ.” The Messiah. The anointed king who’ll save us. You’ll make everything better. You’ll supply us with money, power, and prestige. You’ll lighten our burdens, cure our diseases, and bring our dead back to life.
Which do you think would be more difficult, to be born sight-impaired or to be born hearing-impaired? I’ve always thought that blindness would be worse: not being able to see the beauty of the world or the faces of my loved ones, and not being able to get around easily without some sort of assistance. That’s what I thought until I started meditating on today’s gospel. “And the people brought to him a deaf man who had a speech impediment.” That’s when I began to understand things somewhat differently.
The more spiritual you are, the more conscious contact you have with God, the more mindful you become—the more religious you are—the less hold any laws will have on you. You will instinctively know what the right thing to do is by following the law of love in your heart, and you will do it.
Then you, being rooted and grounded in love, will have power, together with all the saints, to comprehend the length and width and height and depth of the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge.
What, then can we say about the Assumption of Mary? It’s both a statement of faith in the Resurrection and a promise of our share in it.
Once that which was special ceases to be special, what’s left to focus on but the discordant and ugly? Those are the things our consciousness starts to focus on when the harmonious and beautiful has faded into the background.
I’m certain that something happened on the shore of the Sea of Galilee. All four gospels record the event. Some scholars suggest that, when the bread and fish were distributed, people who had brought food with them took it out and began sharing it with others. In that case, it was a miracle of compassion and generosity. But, it doesn’t matter.
Some think they can do a superficial read and exhaust what the Scriptures have to tell us. Almost always, to find the depth of meaning that lies beneath the surface, we have to dig. So, let’s dig.
You are disciples. You are prophets. You’ve been summoned; you’ve been empowered; you’ve been sent. For the past few Sundays, we’ve been talking about God’s power—his δυναμις (dynamis). When the gospels spoke of Jesus performing miracles, they used the Greek phrase “doing powerful deeds.” And that is what each of us has been called to do.
We are very used to hearing prayers addressed to “Almighty God,” aren’t we? We were taught that God is all-knowing (omniscient), all-present (omnipresent), and all-powerful (omnipotent). But is this true in real life? You may think I’m being heretical, but, no, it is not strictly speaking true. God’s power—God’s might—God’s δυναμις (dynamis) that we were talking about in last week’s homily—is limited. Nothing limits God’s power, but the divine will itself. God freely introduced limitations in order to create.
What is a miracle? By now, you should know that nothing in the world of faith is as simple as it seems at first glance. Taking religion at face value may be appropriate for little kids, but real faith is a very adult pursuit. We know what happens when people apply childish faith to adult issues. It doesn’t work.