Exaltation of the Cross

This is a subtitle for your new post

We all know people who love to get their own way. Maybe at times we enjoy that ourselves. For example, we all know people who are great at talking to customer service reps --- people who somehow get off the phone with their problem solved (and maybe some additional perks on top of it). Or parents who get the coach to play their son or daughter more (even though the opposite should probably happen). Or people who get the date after they were turned down time and time and again. Or people who get their bank fees waved, or who talk themselves out of speeding tickets, or who get people to donate money for a charitable cause, or who seem to be great at rounding up volunteers. The powers of persuasion can be a very useful thing. Does it work with God? It’s easy to come away from today’s Gospel passage thinking that very thing. After all, the dishonest judge eventually gives in to the widow who bothered him over and over and over again. We can almost picture it --- the judge rolling his eyes and saying, “Fine. You can have it your way. Just be gone.” Is that supposed to be God, supposed to be how this “prayer” thing works? Nag, nag, nag, and eventually get our way? I think you know the answer. That would be true if the Gospel passage ended a few verses earlier. Yet Jesus wants to make sure his disciples don’t misconstrue what he’s teaching them in the parable --- and so he basically tells them that God is not like that at all, contrasting the “dishonest” judge with God who considers us his “chosen ones”. In other words, if we can sometimes get uncooperative people to cooperate with us, imagine how much more cooperation we will get from our God who made us, and sustains, and forgives and loves us. So what is the comparison between the judge and God? Well, there is no comparison. And that should give us great comfort. In fact, God is more like the people we know who can’t be manipulated, can’t be tricked, can’t be persuaded to do anything they don’t want to do, or don’t feel is right. These are the kinds of people who can see through all the tricks and false flattery and “spin.” God is probably more like the parent whose son or daughter has just offered, out of the blue, to help with the housework and says to their son or daughter, “Nice try. What are you up to? What do you want?” We can’t “trick” God. We can’t get him to do something he doesn’t want to do, or that isn’t good for us, or that is contrary to who he is. All those things should sound absurd to us. Yet, there often is a little part of us that wants to try anyway --- wants to bargain with God, or do something good and then feel that God somehow owes us, or will pay more attention to us. God doesn’t “work” that way. And that should be obvious. But then there’s that little bit added to one particular verse. You might have missed it. Jesus says to them, “Will not God secure the rights of his chosen ones who call out to him day and night?” . . . who call out to him day and night. You see, Jesus doesn’t just say that God is going to do whatever God is going to do so there’s no point in asking. Rather, he’s essentially saying the opposite --- that we should continually make our needs, thoughts, hopes and fears known to our loving God (who actually knows them already). It’s not unlike Moses in today’s First Reading from Exodus, raising his arms and the staff of God unceasingly to secure God’s favor. Moses’ persistence made some sort of difference in the way things were turning out. And maybe ours does too. Not because we make God different. That seems to be a kind of impossibility. Rather, our persistence makes US different. We remain aware of our total dependence on God. We remain aware that our God is the only one who has our complete interests at heart, the only one who loves us completely, the only one who knows what’s best for us (and can actually do something about it.) Our prayers of petition keep us in right relationship with our God (and most likely, with each other too). And it is this sort of persistence, this continual mindfulness, this constant focus toward the source of every good thing that will help infuse ourselves and the world around us with every good thing, a world utterly transformed by people pleading (and working) to make it so. It is our persistence (and a humble, faithful heart) that helps open ourselves up to every good thing God wants for us. And so we ask. Not because we understand. Not because we think we can force God to do what we want. Not out of superstition. Not out of selfishness. But because this is who we are --- people who understand that only God can bring about the changes in us and the world that we (and God) desperately want. And then we wait --- patiently --- for whatever beautiful thing God has in store for us, whatever grace is around the corner. 

Where does good come from? Maybe you never really thought about that question in a such a direct way. And if you think the “answer” is simple, well, it is and it isn’t. Of course, the quickest answer everyone here wants to respond with is, “God”. That is the easy part. But why do we believe God is “good”? And what do we even mean by the word “good”? And could each of God’s commandments have been the exact opposite from what they are if God had chosen to make them so? And if there were no God, could anything even be called “good”? (And what would that even mean?) Feel free to argue about those things around the dinner table. People have been asking those questions and wrestling with them from the dawn of time. I won’t be going into all of that in this homily. Yet the question (and more importantly the answer) is still one we must always cling to, embrace, acknowledge, be aware of --- believe --- if we truly want to be people of faith. Where does good come from? Easy --- God. In fact, that’s essentially how we define “good”. God’s very essence is what we mean by good --- it’s who he is --- his will, his actions, his mercy and compassion and generosity and grace, and even his judgment --- his complete identity (if I can use such a word). If it’s of God, it’s good. If it reflects who God is, it’s good. If it is a God-thing, a God-attribute, it is good. And none of it starts with us. And that’s the part we often get so wrong. We want the credit of course, but never the blame. A person stumbles into a really good job and automatically presumes that it’s because they are “better” than those who didn’t get the job (failing to realize the many variables that figure into these things). Or someone has a really good marriage and figures that other people whose marriages failed must have had poor judgment in picking a spouse. Or someone excels at schoolwork from a very young age and is under the impression that people who do bad in school are “lazy”. Or people who avoid addictions through life are convinced that people with addictions are “weak”. You get the idea. Once we start thinking that way, start accepting credit for every good thing we experience - we will find ourselves in a dangerous place spiritually, the place in which we find it nearly impossible to be truly grateful. We just heard two stories about gratitude. And while they are not identical, they do have a common element --- both people who were healed knew that God had something to do with it. God deserved the credit. God somehow made it possible, and God was at work through the people who healed them. And that’s something that’s so easy to forget, or so easy for us to be unwilling to admit. Sometimes we don’t want to acknowledge God’s part in some good thing that has come our way because we don’t want to have to respond in kind. I’m reminded of the joke about a guy circling a full parking lot, late for a meeting and unable to find a spot. In his panic he prays to God to help him find a parking space, and promises that, if God does find him a spot, he will start going to church more. Suddenly, a parking space up front becomes available. The man immediately says to God, “Never mind. I found one!” Yes, sometimes it’s hard to admit (or maybe even see) the hand of God in every good thing we experience. (He’s also in the difficult stuff too, but that’s a different homily!) A grateful heart is a faithful heart. A grateful heart is one that rejoices in every good thing, one that is grateful for the person or people who helped bring it about ---- but also one that never forgets where it came from in the first place. But we must be careful. Just because every good thing comes from God doesn’t mean that our sorrows or tragedies or disappointments (or those of others) indicate some kind of disappointment or punishment from God. Often (but not always) they are connected to the choices of a combination of people, choices mixed in with our own choices. And so, when things get bad we should take an honest look at the situation, but not necessarily presume we have incurred God’s disfavor. Sometimes we are the source of some bad thing, sometimes others bring it upon us, and sometimes it just happens. (Or any combination of the above!) And that leads us to another truth about God’s goodness, God’s blessings, God’s grace. Everything that is good does indeed have its origin in God. Yet, it isn’t always that that blessing, that “good” thing, finds its target in a straight line, goes directly from God to the one he wants to receive it. You see, ours is a God who invites us to cooperate with him and with all the good he wants to accomplish. There are lots of good things God wants for the world (and for particular individuals) that will not happen unless we help make it happen, unless we become channels of every good thing God shares with us. And the reason we get to share in this holy work, share in showering the world with God’s blessings, share in spreading good things everywhere we go, is because WE share in the goodness of God. Our origin is in God. He made us. And that means that at our core each of us is good. Not a little bit good. Not kind of good. Essentially good, deeply good, God-like good. Sometimes we hide it. Sometimes we deny it. Sometimes it gets buried under our bad choices, our egos, our sin. But it’s there. Waiting to change the world.

“. . . bear your share of hardship for the gospel with the strength that comes from God.” Life is full of hardships --- at least for most of us. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that. Each of us has probably experienced plenty of them for ourselves. Hardships arising from difficult relationships. Hardships brought about by money troubles. Hardships regarding health. Or employment. Or mental and emotional issues. Or involving school. Or consequences of bad decisions, or poor judgment, or even sin. Yes, life is often filled with all sorts of hardships --- disappointments and burdens and tragedies --- large and small. So why would we want another one? “. . . bear your share of hardship for the gospel with the strength that comes from God.” That’s not the part of faith that attracts me. I like embracing a life of faith because it brings me comfort. And it gives my life meaning. And it rings true in a very real sense, that is, seems to match and often brings understanding to my life experiences. And it makes me happy to gather for worship. And it helps me feel part of something bigger than myself. And it helps me feel close to God (especially through the Sacraments). And it helps me fear death a little less. That’s what attracts me to faith, what I “like” about faith. All the good stuff. But hardship? That doesn’t sound so great to me. Have I chosen the wrong faith? Well, maybe. That probably sounds strange coming from a member of the clergy (or from any one of you who is here week after week worshipping in this holy place). Now, I certainly don’t mean I wish I was part of a different faith community, a different faith tradition. Nothing could be further from the truth. But what I AM saying is this. If I’m not willing to embrace the tough parts of walking a journey of faith, not willing to embrace the “work” involved, the sacrifices, the challenges, the self-emptying, the crosses --- then I can’t really say that I am “all in”, can’t say that I’m as committed as I should be. In a certain sense, when I acknowledge that I only want the “good stuff” when it comes to faith, I’m actually saying that what I really want is a kind of Christianity-lite, a Christianity that doesn’t demand much, a stream of Easter mornings without a single Good Friday. In other words, I don’t want things in my life that make me want to shout like the prophet Habakkuk in today’s First Reading, “How long, O Lord? I cry for help but you do not listen!” How many of us wonder about that very thing? How many of us, when faced with some sort of sorrow or disappointment or painful situation, wonder if God is listening, if God is paying attention, if God truly cares? Yet, God does provide us with a kind of “answer”. The problem is, the “answer” he provides is one we don’t really like, or really don’t accept, or often can’t get past --- an answer most perfectly on display on Calvary --- an answer we just heard in response to the cries of Habakkuk. “If it delays, wait for it, it will surely come . . .” Wait for it . . . . And that’s not easy to do. We want the “good stuff” NOW. We want the blessings of God now. We want the pain to go away now, the problem to be solved now, the worries to go away now, the heartache to go away now. We don’t really want to wait. (And who can blame us?) Yet, that’s part of what lies at the heart of the Paschal Mystery. Everything unfolds in God’s time, on God’s “schedule”. It took three days for that first Easter --- a period of waiting and wondering and hoping and confusion and sorrow and every kind of human emotion. But it came. The resurrection came. Salvation came. The Holy Spirit came. All in God’s time and in the way God saw fit. I’ll never say that any of this is easy, never say it’s easy to hold onto hope in the face of life’s struggles, never say it’s easy to trust even though we can’t see what’s coming next, never say it’s easy to embrace the idea that God’s way is always the best way. All of those things take faith --- deep and authentic faith, persistent and relentless faith, humble and sincere faith. So what’s a person to do? What’s a person to do in the face of life’s hardships? The simple answer is, the most faithful answer is, to simply forge ahead, simply continue to do all we have been commanded to do, simply do our duty, fulfill our responsibilities, and honor our promises --- to God, and by extension, to each other. That’s what it means to walk by faith and not by sight. God just wants us to love, to be kind, to be generous, to be merciful --- regardless of whether our lives are going smoothly or are in turmoil, regardless of whether we are in a period of joy or a period of great disappointment. And God will be our strength, our companion, our comfort, through all of it. “. . . but the just one, because of his faith will live.” That goes for every Easter we pray for in the midst of every Good Friday. But we’re going to have to wait for it. In hope. In faith. With trust. And God will not disappoint. 

Twenty-sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr. C 9- 28- 2025 Dcn. Bill Kenney Ref.-Luke 16:19–31 Reflection on Charity and Justice in our lives. Are we persuaded to repent and become more charitable people by the model given us in the passion, death and resurrection of Jesus? Charity is love for others and acting with generosity and self-sacrifice. It is a spiritual gift and fruit of the Holy Spirit to give out of great love as Christ did for us- up to and including his death on the cross. St. Catherine of Siena said, "Consider God's charity. Where else have we ever seen someone who has been offended voluntarily paying out his life for those who have offended him?” Together with faith and hope, charity is one of the Theological virtues that grow our relationship with the Father and each other. In our Gospel reading from Luke, we learn a lesson in charity and justice. We hear of the anonymous rich man and the poor man, Lazarus. They led vastly different earthly lives and eternal lives. They did share one thing in common and that is, death- the great equalizer. In the parable, there’s really no sign of charity on either parties’ behalf. No crumbs from the rich man’s table would feed Lazarus’ hunger; not even a drop of water was given to cool the rich man’s thirst. These are both so over-the-top and appalling that it might give us pause to think, “Do I, to some degree, resemble either of these people in my daily life?” The justice served each player is just as eye-opening and thought provoking. These are certainly outcomes deserving of our interior reflection and conversion of heart. This is a parable Jesus addresses to the Pharisees who were well-off middle-class people. They had their every need met while imposing strict, oppressive temple laws on the common Jews. They believed in the resurrection and the afterlife but did not put two and two together to realize their shortcomings; to recognize and inherit their salvation standing before them. Jesus loved them as God’s creation and wants them, and us, to understand the errors of our ways to save our souls. We provide an identity to the anonymous rich man in our sinfulness and lack of charity for others in our lives. We can sometimes be a type of the Pharisees needing to be woken up and enlightened to our uncharitable ways. How do we become more charitable? It starts with clarity of mind, heart, and will for the unconditional well-being of others. St. Teresa of Calcutta, a.k.a. St. Mother Teresa, is a model of charity. Her religious order is called, The Missionaries of Charity, giving meaning and identity to their cause. She dedicated her life and devotion to the Lord to serve the poorest of the poor in India and beyond- the Lazarus’s of our time. She said, “Every work of love done with a full heart brings people closer to God.” In addition to giving money or material support, giving of ourselves with a full heart builds communion with the Father and each other, which is a far greater act of charity. There are many other charitable organizations doing God’s work to love and care for others. In our own Parish we have access to the Knights of Columbus, Christian Service, Mary’s Refuge, Torch 180, Loaves and Fishes, Family Impact Center, and many others. I recently conferred God’s blessings upon the Pregnancy Help Clinic facility and its Staff members. The Holy Spirit is indeed moving and working through their cause. They and all these charitable organizations are gathering crumbs and dipping their fingers to serve, refresh, and give dignity to the needy among us. As a sign of your gift of charity consider giving your time, talent, and treasure and your full heart to help these and other organizations meet the needs of others. Our OCIA Catechumen and Candidates [ 4:30 -will be welcomed tomorrow] [ 8:30 - will be welcomed today] [ 11am - are welcomed here today] in their journey of faith. They need your crumbs and drops of prayer to inspire them to a greater love of Christ and his Church. Prayer cards for them are out in the Gathering Space. There’s no time like the present to express and take charitable actions for others. Give and don’t keep score. Life and God’s justice are fleeting and swift. We will be asked one day to account for the charity we provided to others, starting with our families. Unlike the rich man, may we serve our needy brothers and sisters in Christ. May charity and love prevail from the fullness of our hearts, for our salvation and for the glory of God.

I’m sure that many of you can remember your favorite meals when you were growing up ----- those dishes that made you really happy each time your mom (or dad!) prepared them. And for those of us who were fortunate enough to have parents who loved to cook and were good at it, these meals provided us not only with tasty nourishment, but also with fond memories we took with us as we grew into adulthood. And, as a result, many adults try to recreate for their spouses and children and friends some of the best meals they cherished as kids. Oh, if only it were that easy. If you’ve ever tried to cook a meal that was first cooked for you by someone else, you know that replicating it can be more than a little tricky. Three potential problems quickly come to mind. One --- Sometimes we don’t have any sort of recipe to go by and we are forced to try to remember or imagine what ingredients and/or steps were used in the making of the dish. Two --- Sometimes mistakes have been made in the writing and rewriting of the recipe as it is handed down. This can be infuriating as we take the time to follow the recipe to a T, but somehow can’t quite get the meal to taste like it’s supposed to. And three --- Sometimes (I know you will be shocked!) the original cook will deliberately leave out some important step or some critical ingredient, not wanting anyone to make it as well as they do. In each of these three cases, it becomes obvious that (when it comes to cooking) the little things matter, small things that (on the surface) shouldn’t change the taste of the food, but in reality do. Little things matter not just in cooking, of course, but in many areas of life. Authors struggle with every word and sentence, knowing that it’s not simply enough to have a good plot or interesting characters. Artists will tinker with a canvas for months, doing all they can to make sure each dot of paint is exactly the way they want it. People giving presentations or speeches will work and re-work the text, and then rehearse and rehearse and rehearse some more, knowing that even a stumble or two could change how their words will be received. And most sports teams will continually work on the “fundamentals”, knowing that raw talent isn’t enough to ensure success over the course of a whole season. Put simply, often in life if we want the “big picture” to come out a certain way, if we want a particular outcome, the only way to make it possible or likely is to pay close attention to the (seemingly insignificant) little things. Today’s Gospel passage from Luke is a somewhat difficult one --- not in what is specifically being said by Jesus, but what he means by what he is saying. There is almost a kind of “riddle” quality to his words. First - we have the story about the dishonest steward and then we get a series of statements from Jesus about dishonest wealth vs. true wealth, very small matters vs. great ones, and God vs. mammon. What is our Lord driving at? I’m not going to try to unpack all the levels of meaning in these verses. Even scholars aren’t all in agreement. But I would like to try to summarize as best I can. If we start with the last line first, “You cannot serve both God and mammon” Jesus seems to be saying that we can’t have it both ways, that we can’t on one hand say (and maybe even believe) that we are serving God when the choices in our lives clearly show that we are simply serving ourselves --- indulging our own needs, wants, and earthly desires. And if that’s the case, then how do we really know if we are serving God? How can we be sure that we’re not trying to serve both God and mammon? All of us in one way or another want to serve God. We wouldn’t be here if we didn’t. We want to please him and be with him for all eternity when our earthly lives have ended. We all want the same “big picture”, the same outcome. We all want for God to see us in a good light and for him to know that we sincerely love him. We all want a seat at the banquet that lasts forever. And yet, wanting those things is not enough --- not if our focus is so far down the road that we fail to see what God is calling us to this very day, in this very moment. If we want the big picture to look a certain way, if we want to be confident that our lives are pleasing to God, we must pay attention to the little things, pay attention to the day-to-day opportunities to love, forgive, serve, teach the Truth and be generous. These are the ingredients that make a beautiful, meaningful, faithful life. May we get the recipe right and do countless little God-like things each and every day. 

“For the corruptible body burdens the soul and the earthen shelter weighs down the mind that has many concerns.” We “get” what the author of the Book of Wisdom seems to be driving at in this passage. And while the passage uses the image of a “body”, we know that this same insight applies to many things --- basically anything that is “of the earth”. And the reason is pretty simple --- because the concerns that often weigh people down are concerns about the world we live in, and specifically the challenges that come with trying survive and thrive in uncertain circumstances. And we shouldn’t consider our concerns about the world as being “bad” or “misguided” or evidence of some sort of diminished faith. That can be a trap we fall into from time to time, seeing spiritual things as “good” and worldly things as “bad”. We must never forget that in the beginning our loving God created everything good. For example, our bodies (and the drives that arise from them) are absolutely good, but sometimes get us into trouble. And the need to work and provide for ourselves and our families are good, but sometimes lead to greed if left unchecked. And our need to be loved and to love are both necessary and beautiful, but can sometimes lead us to look for those things in the wrong places. And our need to be safe can sometimes get us to violate the freedoms of others. And our deep desire to be loved by our God can sometimes drive us to consider ourselves to be better than or more important than others. At times the things of this world can become over-burdensome, controlling and dominating our daily lives. But God wants something different for us. If you’ve ever had to sell a home you know that one of three things can happen. The first is something we hope never happens --- our home sells in one day. And while every case is different, a house that sells in one day often means that the price asked was way too low, that the people undervalued their home. The second possibility can be equally frustrating, the times when a person’s home sits on the market forever. No reasonable offers. Just waiting and waiting and waiting. When that happens, the real estate agent will almost always go to the seller and say. “Clearly, we’ve set the price too high. We’ve over-valued your home.” But what most people hope for is possibility number three --- those times when lots of offers come in just under the asking price, indicating that the people selling got the “value” just about right. In that situation, the sellers don’t have to worry that they either overvalued or undervalued their home. They achieved the “balance” they hoped for, that real-estate “sweet spot”. That same sort of idea can apply to our spiritual lives. At the heart of every God-centered life is a life being in proper balance. And that involves “valuing” everything in the proper way and to the proper degree --- making judgments about what a certain thing or certain pursuit is really worth. And it will come as no surprise to hear me say that when it comes to the things of this earth --- things that don’t last --- we tend to “overvalue” them in all sorts of ways and often to our great harm whereby we give up peace and joy. In a sense, every temptation is precisely that, a giving too high a value (and being willing to pay too high a cost) to something that in fact falls far short of something else, someone else. In those situations, the fulfilling of our own needs and wants moves to the front seat rather than remain in the back seat. It’s evidence of a life out of balance. On the other end of the spectrum, the things we often “undervalue” are surprisingly the realities that matter the most, the Gospel values that last, the God-things that give meaning, purpose, peace and joy to every aspect of our lives on into eternity. And so, striving to live out the commandments and beatitudes might not sound that great because that would mean adjusting our calendars, priorities and routines. Yet, in faith, we know better. Our Gospel passage today from Luke drives this point home. In it Jesus uses examples to show the importance of understanding what something “costs”, what something is “worth” --- whether that be someone doing a construction project or someone going into battle. And Jesus sandwiches these examples with two extreme declarations. First he says that people have to hate their family members or they can’t be his disciple. And he ends by saying that a person who is unwilling to renounce all possessions cannot be his disciple. That’s rough stuff. It’s hard to hear. And it’s difficult to wrap our minds around. What exactly is Jesus saying? From this story (and others in Scripture) it seems pretty clear that Jesus wants us to always maintain the proper balance, always keep things in right relationship, always value things in an accurate way. And it doesn’t mean the things of this world aren’t important, or don’t have value, or aren’t worth pursuing. We don’t have to consider them worthless. In fact, we should never do that. It just means that one true reality is always worth more than everything else and that is God. And once we realize that (and start living accordingly) our lives will take on a kind of beauty, fullness, peace, joy and meaning we can’t possibly imagine. But we don’t have to just imagine it. We can find out for ourselves --- if we want this state of mind, body and soul enough. And rest assured --- no price is too high.

Twenty-first Sunday in Ordinary Time – August 24, 2025 Readings: Isaiah 66:18–21 • Hebrews 12:5–7, 11–13 • Luke 13:22–30 Dcn. Bill Kenney We are saved by God’s grace and our striving to enter the narrow gate. In our gospel reading from Luke, Jesus is asked, “Lord, will only a few be saved?” Instead of giving a flat-out “yes” or “no” answer to this question, it’s more of an “it depends” answer. To answer “yes” or “no” would have sent the questioner reeling in a false sense of either joy or fear. He does not understand the depth of his question; the answer is beyond him. It is a question answered only by God. And so, Jesus tells his followers to strive to enter (the Kingdom of Heaven) through the narrow gate . It’s not a question of how many, but how we strive to enter. Entering through the narrow gate sounds to me like herding of sheep or cows into a corral. The vast population, a universal livestock roaming about is funneled by sheep dogs or rancher whips into a single-file row, disciplined and trained to enter the narrow gate for security, control, and care. So it is in the Kingdom of Heaven. While God offers salvation to everyone, some go astray. Not everyone accepts or responds to the invitation in a way that leads to true discipleship and, ultimately, being among the "saved". This verse highlights the importance of responding to God's call with faith, humility, and a commitment to follow Christ. He tells us, we are to strive to enter. Strive means to do your best, to make a life-long effort in preparing and building your faith, love, and relationship with God. He continues, “…many will not be strong enough” to enter- strong enough to lift others from their burdens, strong enough to overcome temptations to sin, strong enough to bring others to Christ, such as through the OCIA Program. These strengths and the grace of God allow us to enter through the narrow gate. Our reading from Isaiah tells us the faithful people of God will be gathered from the four corners of the world to universally worship their one Lord and God. In Hebrews, the people are reminded that they are all children of a loving Father. A loving father and mother provide discipline in their children’s lives, not for the purpose of pain and suffering but as training to bring about “…the peaceful fruit of righteousness in their lives.” Consider recent headlines of unruly, undisciplined teen gang members, mostly boys, wreaking havoc in major inner cities. Where are their parents to guide, discipline, bring order, and train them to be peaceful, righteous men? Without the love and strength of a father and mother, as examples to emulate, our children, in turn, will not be strong enough to enter the Kingdom’s narrow gate. In the end, God judges us and the size of the gate for each of us to be able to enter. Pray the narrow gate is wide enough for you and me to be saved. It depends. We may have to go on a diet- a diet from pride, self-centeredness, laziness, indifference, and other vices that make the gate too narrow. The virtues we espouse such as charity, patience, humility, and others make us stronger to enter the narrow gate. Live a virtuous life. We are invited to choose an ever-deeper relationship with God, especially through reception of his gate-opening Body and Blood in the Holy Eucharist. We must endure any trials and discipline, remaining strong in our trust, faith, and love of God so we can say “yes” to him and strive to enter the narrow gate, who is Jesus Christ- opened for our salvation and for the glory of God.

“Do you think I have come to establish peace on the earth?” I have a real problem with this statement from Jesus. Don’t you? It’s confusing. Isn’t “peace” what Jesus is all about? I seem to remember him, being called the Prince of Peace and saying emphatically, “Blessed are the peacemakers.” And how many times did Jesus say, “Peace be with you.” Which is it? Are we to be working toward peace, or toward something else? Which is it? Three little words. Which is it? I used those words deliberately because they lie at the heart of nearly every spiritual journey, lie at the heart of what a faithful life is all about, lie at the heart of what it means to be a true disciple of Jesus. For people of faith this idea of “choice” is an important one. You see, in nearly each moment of each day, in nearly each and every circumstance, we can either choose the God-like thing or we can choose something else. And by choosing one or the other we are also saying no to something else --- something that might be important to those who don’t agree with us or think like us or embrace the same sorts of things we have pledged to embrace. And as a result, conflict can arise, mistrust can arise, feelings of inferiority or superiority can arise, feelings of judgment or resentment or rejection or anger or any number of other things can arise --- all of which can lead to conflict and division, lead to a situation in which “peace” seems to be absent. Jesus seems to have recognized this, seems to have known that things are never easy for those who strive to do the right and holy thing. I also seem to remember him saying that same day long ago, “Blessed are you who are persecuted . . . because of me.” Of course, his subsequent passion, death, and resurrection would be the most extreme and profound example of this this reality. And on this day he uses some really strong examples to make his point --- showing division in society’s most precious element --- the family. If he wanted to really get the disciples’ attention --- that’s the way to do it. And so, for example, when we stand on the side of being generous --- helping out the less fortunate, --- some will see it as a “waste of money”. And when we stand on the side of being merciful with those who have wronged us, some will see it as a sign of weakness, a failure to recognize that people “should get what they deserve”. And when we stand on the side of faithfully celebrating Mass every Sunday and on Holy Days --- we might feel like we miss out on what others choose to do instead. And when we stand on the side of affirming life in all its forms, some will see it as turning a blind eye to the practicalities of the real world. And when we stand on the side of upholding the Churches teaching on the Sacrament of Marriage and morality, others will see it as being insensitive to others. Yes, by choosing the holy thing, the good thing, the revealed by Jesus Divine Truths, we most certainly will experience consequences that we would never call “peaceful”. And we only have to look within each of our hearts to know this is true --- for this conflict doesn’t just exist outside of ourselves. It also exists within each of us, that disconnect we feel each time we know what is right, but choose something earthly instead. We wouldn’t have to call ourselves “sinners” if that wasn’t the case. Of course, “how” we go about making these choices is critical, for it doesn’t mean that we can do God’s work in mean-spirited way, or an unloving way, or a “holier-than-thou” way. Just because we are striving to build our lives on faith and on solid ground does not give us permission to embody things opposite to who we know Jesus to be, opposite to the God-given dignity in which each of us was created. That’s one part we often forget. And accompanying this conflict, this strife, will be a fire --- one that Jesus hopes is “blazing”. Yet, we need not think of this fire as destructive. Rather, it is a fire that is powerful, maybe a little scary or painful at times, but ultimately one that is transformative --- helping re-create the world and each individual open to it. This fire of the Holy Spirit is a fire meant to burn away all that stands in the way of the world being the beautiful place God created it to be (and died for it to be). A fire to burn away injustice – cruelty – indifference – hatred – greed - self-righteousness – pride - jealousy, and every other thing not from God. Put simply, this “fire” has the power to burn away all self-centeredness --- that persistent urge to choose ourselves above God --- a giving in to a relentless temptation that manifests itself in almost everything that keeps the world from being truly at “peace”. So which is it? (There are those three little words again.) Which is it? Will we strive to always choose the things of Heaven? And if so, can we face the earthly conflicts that are sure to follow, not with anger or malice or hatred, but with love? And will we let the Holy Spirit be our guide --- the “fire” of the living God that has the power to transform absolutely everything? If the answer is “yes” --- who knows what we might “establish”? Who knows what beautiful world we might help re-create? That’s God’s hope for the world he entered and laid down his life for. Let’s make sure it’s our hope too.