|
1st Sunday of Lent (A)
13th March, 2011
One day the devil called a meeting in hell with all his demons. Top of the agenda was the question of how to get people to stop believing in God and end up ignoring sin and being forever at each others’ throats. This would then swell hell’s numbers.
One of the chief demons said, “I have a plan. Let’s tell the people that there is no God and they’ve been tricked.” Another demon said, “No, that’s too obvious. Of course, there’s a just and holy God. Anyone except a fool knows that.”
“Well then,” another demon said, “Let them believe that he is a just and holy God, but tell them that they are so sinful that they’ve had their last chance and now he won’t accept them. That will demoralise them.”
But another said, “No, that won’t work. Everyone knows he’s also a God of mercy, and anyone who recognises their sinfulness and repents is assured of his forgiveness.” “I know exactly what we can do!” another demon exclaimed, “Let them believe there is a God – a just and holy God, full of mercy, but let’s just tell them that there’s plenty of time.”
Lent is the season of penance and self-denial. It’s six weeks when we take stock of our lives and see whether they are taking us closer to God or further away from him. Is there any rush? Should we get urgent about it? Should we begin looking to see if there is a pattern about the way we fall into situations that we know are sinful and do us no good? Are there aspects of our lifestyle that need checking? Are some of our desires questionable? Are we genuinely trying to purify our motives? Do we do enough for others, close to home or those abroad who are in need?
Lent is about action, about opening ourselves to the working of God’s grace, about having a change of heart, a U-turn in the normal pattern of our behaviour. It’s a holy season of self-denial. But don’t worry; there’s plenty of time. Or so the devil says. |
|
9th Sunday in Ordinary Time (A)
6th March, 2011
The church of St Sophia in Istanbul, Turkey, has stood for centuries in a country that is famous for earthquakes. But when other buildings have crumbled, it has remained standing. Is it something that the architect did? Is it built on special ground? Or is it just good luck?
Today we know that some practical designs have to be put in place if a building is to be earthquake-proof. A certain amount of leeway in the wind has to be allowed for. The foundations have to be weighed up very carefully. Sometimes steel girders go right through the building to hold it together.
In today’s gospel Jesus tells a story of two types of people: those who build their homes on sand and those who build them on rock. These houses symbolise our relationship with God, our faith. Some of these houses can withstand whatever is thrown at them while others crumble in the face of the elements.
What are the things that keep the house of our faith together? What stops us from crumbling in the face of opposition? Most people would say that there are many things that keep us going in adversity. Our other Christian friends and our local church community is a great support when we are having a rough time. We get courage and strength from the example of others in our family of faith and we receive inspiration to keep on going. Knowing what the Church teaches is indispensable if we are not to fall at the first hurdle that comes along to shake our belief. So a sound understanding of our faith, as best we can, is a good insurance policy against subsidence!
But the thing that earthquake-proofs our faith, that underpins its foundations and stops it from shaking in the wind, is the word of God. For our faith and our relationship with God is founded not just on tradition, not on custom or whim, but on what God has revealed to us in his word. The Church is a “people of the Book”. We take our cue from the revealed word of God in Jesus Christ. If we build our faith on this rock then we will stand firm. But if our faith is based on the sand of any other sort of foundation, however fashionable it might appear, then it’s time to stand back and wait for the crash!
|
|
|
The service of God or wealth |
|
8th Sunday in Ordinary Time (A)
27th February, 2011
Today’s Gospel confronts us with a series of choices, serving God or pursuing wealth; trusting God or fretting over life's necessities; seeking God's rule or worrying about tomorrow. Parishioners with children to educate and retirement to anticipate are prone to laugh and dismiss these words as something relevant only to the uncomplicated life of the first century, but not able to serve as practical wisdom for today’s world. But before this text is shelved too quickly, let it work its magic and do its prodding, jostling and questioning. Who can measure the ways it can and might address the stressed out parishioner at his or her wits end, or the disillusioned member desperately searching for a new way to value life?
There is a sharp contrast drawn between living according to God's will and living as the gentiles lived. The text offers no compromises between the two, no easy accommodation, and therein lies its power to probe. There's no escape, no way to get off the hook. It is either the service of God or the service of wealth. Our instinct is to argue and hunt for a middle way, to assure ourselves that we can in fact live with divided loyalties, that our pursuit of wealth can really be a good thing if we spend our money in the right way. The text exposes our contradictions - it does not solve for us the problem of educating children and planning for retirement. It does not give us specific rules to determine how much we can earn and still be a servant of God; it simply leaves us with a choice: God or wealth.
Next take the counsel not to worry about the necessities of life. The pursuit of God's way means breaking with the world and fretting about food and clothing, freedom from the paralysing worry that cramps human relationships. Praying for the advent of God's kingdom entails trust in God for the gifts which sustain life. The text relentlessly pushes a choice.
Finally, the passage at heart issues a profound call to a light-hearted service of God, characterised by a reckless trust in the divine provision. The text resists being turned into a burden to be borne by those who find its choices difficult and into a guilt-promoting device for those prone to fret too much. Instead it invites us to a whole-hearted, joyful pursuit of God's coming reign. This is a God who feeds the birds and clothes the fields, who knows that you need all these things and who promises to provide them. The text offers gift after gift of divine care to make our discipleship care-free.
|
|
7th Sunday in Ordinary Time (A)
20th February, 2011
Habit is a terrible prison because it runs so deep in us. Some habits are small like remembering what side the indicator on a car is placed, but changing its place can completely throw us! Still, we get there in time because this change is to a very minor habit which will not require us to change the inner self.
If only every change were like that! But there are, as we all know from experience, habits that can only be changed by changing ourselves and that can be very, very daunting. It requires motivation, will power, support from others and perseverance. It also requires the virtue of hope; hope that the victory can indeed be won.
So that we might be free, Jesus says, "Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you". How many of us have sincerely resolved to obey this command of the Lord? - to so change the inner composition of our unyielding, proud heart that we become capable of actually loving our enemies?
In case we think this is impossible, we should recall the opening words of last week's first reading from Ecclesiasticus, "If you wish, you can keep the commandments, to behave faithfully is within your power."
Naturally enough, we will require the grace of God to achieve every inch of progress. Nothing is possible without God's help and fortunately, he is always ready to give it.
|
|
