Year 2 Monday of the Twenty-sixth Week in Ordinary Time

Readings: Job 1:6-22; Psalm 17:1-3.6-7; Luke 9:46-50

The Book of Job teaches that sometimes bad things happen to good people. It teaches us that these bad things are not God’s punishment for sins and failures. After basically losing everything, Job declares, in the midst of his lament: “The LORD gave and the LORD has taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD” (Job 1:21). Job did not grow angry and shake his fist at the heavens, demanding God explain himself. He blessed the Lord.

A long time ago, someone told me that God doesn’t care as much about what happens to you as he does about how you receive it and how you handle it. That's hard to process. I still think God cares about what happens to me. But God certainly cares about how I handle what comes my way.

It’s never a question of God “cutting you off” from himself. Rather, it’s a question of your attitude towards God when experiencing dark and troubling times. God seeks to use everything that happens to draw me closer to himself. Do I trust him to let him do this, or do I withdraw, certain or maybe worried if God is somehow angry with me? This is an important question.

It’s important to trust God, our Father, with childlike trust, especially when dealing with life’s inevitable struggles, disappointments, and difficulties. More often than not- though not in Job’s case (his friends and even his wife are convinced Job did something wrong for which God is punishing him- they tell him this)- God reaches out to us through other people.

Sometimes God reaches out to us through the most unexpected people. Maybe the person who shows you God’s face, brings a ray of sunlight to your darkness, and encourages you is an unbeliever. Perhaps this person’s beliefs are very different from your own.

Maybe, like a lot of people these days, the person doesn’t really know what s/he believes and practices no religion. Still, such people see you suffering and, like the Good Samaritan, show you compassion, care, and kindness. As with Jesus, so with us: “whoever is not against you is for you” (Luke 9:50)

Unlike Job’s friends, let’s not get so carried away trying to be right that we neglect to be kind, caring, and compassionate. Foster hope in others. Be for others. Be that friend who offers encouragement.

Feast of Saint Matthew, Apostle and Evangelist

Readings: Ephesians 4:1-7.11-23; Psalm 19:2-5; Matthew 9:9-13

Today the Church celebrates the Feast of Saint Matthew, Apostle and Evangelist. Fittingly, our Gospel reading is Jesus calling Matthew to follow him. In doing so, the Lord invites this tax collector to join his core followers: the Twelve.

Our reading from Ephesians, referring to spiritual gifts, insists, “grace was given to each of us.”¹ It is a grace to follow Christ, who calls everyone. I say he calls everyone, even though in our Gospel he says, “I did not come to call the righteous but sinners.”² Like Matthew, none of us are called because of our own merits. And some the Lord calls, like Matthew, like Paul, are surprising, to say the least.

What Saint Paul wrote to the Church in Corinth, I believe, still applies today: “Consider your own calling, brothers. Not many of you were wise by human standards, not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth. Rather, God chose the foolish of the world…”³

Jesus Calls Matthew To Be His Disciple

Both the call and the response are grace. Grace is a word we hear, read, and perhaps use a lot. Like a boat too long at sea, words used too often can acquire barnacles, taking on so many meanings that the core meaning is muted or even lost.

In his recent novel Martyr!, Kaveh Akbar provides a stunning “take” on grace:

What distinguishes grace from everything else? Grace is unearned. If you’ve moved through the world in such a way as to feel you’ve earned cosmic compensation, then what you’ve earned is something more like justice, like propriety. Not grace. Propriety is correct. Justice is just. There’s an inescapable transactional quality: perform x good, receive y reward. Grace doesn’t work that way. It begins with reward. Goodness never enters the equation⁴

The economy of salvation is non-transactional. Its structure is “gift-return-gift.” This exchange is not about redistributing goods or services. Rather, it’s about imitating God’s self‑gift and living out that gift concretely.

Grace begins with the reward. Christian life begins with the reward. The rest is living in loving gratitude for the gift given and received. This is what Saint Matthew did, transforming from a tax collector into an apostle and evangelist. This is how “to live in a manner worthy of the call you have received.”⁵

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1 Ephesians 4:7.^↩
2 Matthew 9:13.^↩
3 1 Corinthians 1:26-27.^↩
4 Kaveh Akbar. Martyr! Vintage: New York: 2024, page 279..^↩
5 Ephesians 4:1.^↩

Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross

Readings: Numbers 21:4b-9; Psalm 78:1-2.34-38; Philippians 2:6-11; John 3:13-17

Today the Church throughout the world celebrates the Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross. This feast marks the day when, in AD 326, the true cross, purportedly discovered by Helena, Emperor Constantine’s mother, was lifted up (exalted) for veneration in the Church of the Holy Sepulcher in Jerusalem. Today marks the 1,700th anniversary of that event.

Like a few other major observances, such as the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary, this feast is observed today not only by Roman Catholics but also by Eastern Catholics and most Eastern Orthodox Christians. Today is also Pope Leo’s seventy-first birthday. It is due to the importance and universal nature of this feast that the Liturgy of the Word features three readings.

The readings for today’s feast seem to me perfectly harmonized. Elsewhere in Saint John’s Gospel, Jesus also alludes to our first reading from the Book of Numbers. This happens when, during the Passover celebration in Jerusalem, some Greeks asked his disciples to meet him. In declining their request, the Lord says, referring to his death, “And when I am lifted up from the earth, I will draw everyone to myself” (See John 12:20-36)

Indeed, far from being a humiliation, Jesus being lifted on the cross is his exaltation, the revelation of who he really is. This is made wonderfully clear in our reading from Philippians. Saint Paul likely took this passage from what New Testament scholars agree was probably an early Christian hymn, now known as “the kenotic hymn.” This inspired passage shows us who Jesus really is. It does so by giving us a deep glimpse into God’s very nature.

“Because of this,” we hear in the passage, “God exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name” (Phil 2:6). The “this” that is referred to is his emptying himself (“to empty” is what the Greek word kenosis means) to become a slave and to be subjected to an unjust and, in the ancient world, deeply humiliating death. He did not use divine omnipotence to save himself. Rather, for our sake, he commended himself to the Father- this same Father who did not take the cup of his passion away from him.

It is on the cross that Jesus shows us the height, depth, and width of God’s love. On the cross, Jesus shows us that genuine strength is made manifest in weakness. He demonstrates that real power, which is the power of divine love (i.e., agape), is made perfect through weakness (2 Cor 12:9-10). Nearly two thousand years on, the cross of Christ remains a scandal not only to many non-believers, but to many Christians as well.

Returning to history, let’s not forget that the Church’s lowest ebbs came when she either exercised or sought to exercise worldly power. It is during such times that God sends saints, like Francis of Assisi, the 800th anniversary of whose death the Church is celebrating this year as a Jubilee, who remind us of the power of the Holy Cross.

We adore you, O Christ, and we bless you,
   By your holy cross you have redeemed the world
(Lectionary, Gospel Acclamation, Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross)

Year A Twenty-fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Readings: Sirach 27:30-28:7; Psalm 103:1-4.9-12; Romans 14:7-9; Matthew 18:21-35

In today's Gospel, we are faced with one of Jesus’ most difficult teachings. Harmonized as it is with our first reading from Sirach, the Lord’s teaching about not just the importance but the necessity of forgiveness is set forth in a very direct way. In a word, today's teaching is provocative.

I dare say, forgiveness is a challenge to us all. It doesn’t matter whether it is about big or small things. And, in this passage, Jesus doesn’t leave wiggle room. This is what makes his teaching on forgiveness one of his most challenging , if not his most challenging.

What does it mean to forgive someone who has wronged you? It means intentionally choosing to let go of resentment, bitterness, and anger towards that person. Quite literally, as we see in the parable Jesus gives, forgiveness means choosing not to collect a debt owed.

Forgiving doesn’t mean forgetting. Neither does it mean making wrong into right. While forgiveness is required for reconciliation, it isn’t the same thing. In many instances, though not all, forgiveness opens the door to reconciliation.

In recent years, much psychological research has focused on forgiveness. Far from weakness, forgiveness requires a great deal of emotional strength. Forgiving wrongs reduces your own negative emotions and cultivates compassion and understanding toward the one you are forgiving.

The person most freed by forgiveness is the one who forgives. Just as it is physically easier to smile than to frown, forgiving others is easier than being weighed down by anger and resentment.

From a Christian perspective, forgiveness is a grace. A grace is something you don’t deserve. You can’t earn grace. This is where Jesus’ teaching begins.

Perhaps the best way to approach the parable found in our Gospel is as an allegory. In this allegory, God is the merciful king who forgives an enormous debt owed to him by his servant. The servant, who has no way of repaying the debt, stands in for us sinners. The king graciously forgives his servant's huge debt.

You would reasonably expect, as the merciful king in this parable clearly does, that someone who has been shown great mercy would extend that same mercy to others. It’s almost shocking that the forgiven servant is so utterly merciless to the person who owed him a very small debt. If we stick with the allegory, the parable shows the predicament of the Christian who, as the old bumper sticker said, is not perfect, just forgiven, but who nonetheless refuses to forgive.

Just as we can truly love only because God first loved us, we can truly forgive because, through Christ, God has forgiven us.¹ We even pray this, also from Saint Matthew’s Gospel, together at each Mass: “forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.”²

Jesus’ parable serves as an illustration of his teaching about forgiving as many times as I am wronged. It also further explains our quite pointed reading from Sirach. True forgiveness, as the Lord teaches it at the end of our Gospel, must be from the heart.³

As C.S. Lewis observed: “Everyone thinks forgiveness is a lovely idea, until they have something to forgive.”⁴ In other words, it’s easier said than done. But forgiveness is not merely done for the love of a neighbor but is also done out of a just love of oneself and for one’s own salvation.

Because God is infinite, his mercy is infinite. As Pope Francis taught: “God always forgives us. He never tires of this. It’s we who get tired of asking for forgiveness.”⁵ This is good news!

To be like God is to be like Jesus, who shows us the face of the Father. To be like Jesus is to forgive. While it’s hard to be like Jesus, by God's grace, it is not impossible. As his followers, the Lord calls us to follow him; not only to do what he taught but to do as he did.

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1 1 John 4:10.^↩
2 Matthew 6:12.^↩
3 Matthew 18:35.^↩
4 C.S. Lewis. Mere Christianity. Book III, Chapter 1, Section 7, "Christian Behavior.^↩
5 Pope Francis. Vatican Radio via America magazine: “God Always Forgives Everything: ‘He never tires of this. It’s we who get tired of asking for forgiveness.’” 23 January 2015.^↩

Year 2 Monday of the Twenty-third Week in Ordinary Time

Readings: 1 Corinthians 5:1-8; Psalm 5:5-7.12; Luke 6:6-11

Today is Labor Day. Somewhat ironically, our Gospel is about “working” on the sabbath. It is always the work of a Christian to do good and certainly to save life.

From a narrow perspective, like that of Jesus’ interlocutors in our reading, the Lord’s relationship with the Law can seem complicated. But it isn’t, really. Before the time of Jesus and even during his time, for many rabbis, adherence to the Law was not just about keeping a list of rules, avoiding what was forbidden, and doing what was prescribed.

What is at stake in these kinds of incidents found in the Gospel is our relationship with God, both personal and communal. It is very human to make my relationship with God transactional. I do this or don’t do that. As a result, God does something for me in return. Conversely, when I fail to do what I am supposed to do or do what I’m not supposed to do, God will punish me.

Try as we might to make him that way, God isn’t like that. God loves us. His disposition towards us doesn’t change. His love is not conditional, dependent on our often-whimsical behavior. Jesus shows us this repeatedly.

Detail from Christ healing an infirm woman on the Sabbath, by James Tissot, 1886-1896,in public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

By curing the man with a withered hand on the sabbath, in the eyes of at least some of those in the synagogue, Jesus violated the commandment forbidding work on the sabbath. He did the very thing some of those present were hoping he would do. They came looking for a reason, any reason, to condemn him.

He blatantly did what those looking to accuse him hoped he would do: cured someone on the sabbath. They were not swayed by the mercy to which the Lord appealed. Jesus is the Mercy King. In our epistle reading from yesterday, taken from his Letter to the Romans, Saint Paul asserted that to love your neighbor by doing good to her/him is the fulfillment of the Law (see Romans 13:8-10).

Of course, Paul takes this directly from Jesus’ teaching. You see, the Law was given to provide a means to the end of loving God with your entire being by loving your neighbor as you love yourself. There is no higher commandment. All other rules are subordinated to the Two Great Commandments (sticking with Saint Luke's Gospel see Luke 10:27-37).

I can genuinely love because I am first loved (see 1 John 4:10). Far from a transaction consisting of a quid pro quo, obedience is my loving response to God, who is love.

Careful now

Readings: Ezekiel 33:7-9; Psalm 95:1-2.6-9; Romans 13:8-10; Matthew 18:15-20

The first part of our Gospel today is one of those passages that can easily cause more harm than good. It's a passage that requires careful handling. Being juridical in nature, it sets forth a procedure for resolving disputes within the primitive Christian community.

These procedures set forth in the passage pertain to serious matters, the kinds of things that today would lead to excommunication or serious ecclesial penalities, matters now codified in the Code of Canon Law. In other words, it doesn't green light providing grist for the rumor mill. It doesn't promote division within the community.

Nonetheless, the injunction to go to the person against whom you have a grievance privately with an eye towards reconciling is, on the whole, good advice. Now, there are situations, like instances of sexual or other kinds of heinous abuse, to which this does not and cannot apply. But then, the penal section of the Code of Canon Law and, in some cases, even criminal law are brought bear on such egregious matters (see first paragraph).

When dealing with everyday kinds of disputes or offenses, real or perceived, seeking to work it out person-to-person and then perhaps with a mediator is a good way ahead. It also cuts gossip off at the source. Ideally, we seek reconciliation, not judgment, and certainly not retribution.

During Ordinary Time, effort is made to harmonize the Gospel reading with the reading from the Hebrew Scriptures. Today, this could easily compound the problem. Not only can misreading and mishandling this passage cause harm, it can lead to abuse.

I think our reading from Romans provides us with much-needed perspective. It provides us with a Christian perspective. "Juridical" refers to judicial (i.e., legal) proceedings. Any good and well-ordered community requires such things (see first paragraph). What our "epistle" reading, which seems well-harmonized with the other readings, reminds us is the basis of Christ's law, namely the second of his Two Great Commandments.

Saint Paul stated it quite simply when he wrote: "the one who loves another has fulfilled the law" (Rom 13:8). Even more to my point, "Love does no evil to the neighbor" (Rom 13:10). In this passage, "love" is a translation of the appropriate form of agape.

By way of reminder, agape refers to self-giving, self-sacrificing love. Sometimes efforts are made to distinguish between liking and loving someone. This means that you can love someone and really not liking them. While I suppose this can be a useful distinction in certain circumstances, pressing this distinction too hard can make Christian love (agape) cold and mechanical, procedural and not personal. While love is a choice, not merely a feeling, it has an indispenable affective dimension.

Later in this same chapter of Saint Matthew's Gospel, in teaching about not the importance but the necessity of forgiveness, Jesus clearly states you must forgive your brother from your heart (Matt 18:35). Depending on the perceived offense or actual injury, this can be very difficult and take time, maybe a lot of time. But for Christians, it must be a matter of the heart.

Yesterday I read an article about the experience of an Evangelical pastor in a church he had pastored. Because of the way he was treated, he wound up leaving that Church scarred and somewhat broken. Several years later, while pastoring another Church in a different state, the current pastor of the Church he left, knowing what happened, invited him back to preach.

Reluctantly, the ousted pastor accepted. At the start of one of the meetings he was preaching at while visting his former church, in walked a man who had made him miserable while he served there. He wrote,

No, the man did not apologize for the torment he brought to my family, but it didn’t matter. God gave me peace. Forgiveness at that time was not conditional on what he did. Instead, it was a gift from God to me

Then it became a gift from the pastor to the man. Indeed, "love is the fulfillment of the law" (Rom 13:10).

Year 2 Friday of the Twenty-second in Ordinary Time

Readings: 1 Corinthians 4:1-5; Psalm 37:3-6.27-28.39-40; Luke 5:33-39

It is impossible to separate Jesus from what we now call Judaism. Without Judaism, Christianity is incoherent. Today’s Gospel sets forth the kind of cognitive dissonance Christ often caused and that the Christian life still causes today.

Today, this dissonance, which is kind of a dialectic, is often a painful source of division. “Dialectic” is a big word. In this context, it refers to a way of thinking and argumentation through which what seem to be contradictions are shown to be paradoxes. A paradox (another big word) is something that looks like a contradiction but, on close examination is shown not to be.

For an example of this, we need look no farther than today’s Gospel. Instead of dedicating themselves to prayer and fasting on certain days of the week, as the Pharisees and even the Baptist’s disciples did, Jesus’ followers ate and drank. They feasted instead of fasted.

Jesus doesn’t say his disciples don’t fast because fasting is no longer an important spiritual discipline. He uses an analogy: do you fast at a wedding after the bridegroom arrives? No! You feast.

Jesus is the bridegroom, and his bride is the Church. Every Eucharist is a feast, a celebration, especially Sunday Eucharist. This is why Sundays don’t count as days of Lent. To arrive at 40 day of Lent, you must subtract Sundays.

The Church still fasts. Catholics are obliged to fast on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday. The normal way Fridays are still observed as days of penance is by abstaining from meat. But there is no Friday abstinence when a solemnity falls on a Friday.

Like all spiritual disciplines, fasting has rules. But when it becomes rule-bound, this discipline goes from being a means to becoming an end in itself. Turning these means into ends makes engaging in spiritual discipline worse than not doing them at all. The end to which all spiritual disciplines are but means is love of God and neighbor.As we read even the Old Testament: “I desire mercy, not sacrifice” (See Hosea 6:6 and Matthew 9:13).

As interesting and even important as this is, it isn’t the point of our reading. The point of our readings is about judging others. Saint Paul, who experienced plenty of judgment during his years of ministry, much of it quite harsh, wrote that he doesn’t even judge himself.

Many people think that self-judgment leads to more lenient judgment. While I suppose this is sometimes the case, I’ve found, in working with quite a few people over the past few decades, that a lot of people, probably most, judge themselves quite harshly. I know people who are very merciful towards others yet merciless towards themselves.

There’s a podcast I often listen to that is hosted by a pastor, Steve Cuss, who, along with his wife, is also a counselor. At the end of each episode that features a guest, Cuss has them endure what he calls “the gauntlet of anxiety-inducing questions.” The first of the three questions he asks is, “What’s one way that you treat others that if you started treating yourself the same way, your life would be better?"

Many times, the guest answers the question along the lines of, “My life would be better if I extended as much grace and mercy to myself as I do to others.” As Christians, we’re often sadly programmed to be quite merciless with ourselves from a young age.

Years ago, I participated in a memorial service for someone with whom I had the blessing to work as he returned to the church. Sadly and unexpectedly, Casey, who was a successful and much-beloved guy, took his own life. At each table setting at his memorial service was a card that read: “Be gentle with yourself and with others.” I keep this card on a shelf in my den as a reminder.

Time and again, Jesus shows us the face of the Father. God is not an angry tyrant. He is a merciful and loving Father, one who constantly works for your good. As scripture states it: “God is love” (1 John 4:8.16). God isn’t just love in a generic sense, but is agape, that is, self-sacrificing, self-giving love.

Christian morality makes no sense until you’ve experienced God’s love. Genuine morality is a loving response to the love of God. It is the fruit of a life grounded in and lived from God’s love, made manifest by loving your neighbor as you love yourself- don't too quickly forget not only to love yourself but let yourself be loved.