Year C Twenty-sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Readings: Amos 6:1a.4-7; Ps 146:7-10; 1 Tim 6:11-16; Luke 16:19:31

We are still in the travel narrative from Saint Luke’s Gospel. During these weeks, we are journeying with Jesus, the Twelve, and his closest disciples from Galilee to Jerusalem. Luke's travel narrative really constitutes the heart of his Gospel. Along the way, Jesus teaches about the kingdom, about what it means to follow him, even as he heals and casts out demons. Traveling by foot, as on a pilgrimage, Jesus and his band of followers are not in a hurry.

Our Gospel today follows immediately on the heels of last week’s. The subject of the Lord’s teaching is the same: the danger wealth presents to our eternal prospects. According to Jesus, to be wealthy and own a lot of things is not freedom. He clearly teaches- if you want to be truly free, like he is free, give everything away and daily trust God to meet your needs.

But even in Luke’s Gospel, where his teaching on wealth is laid out clearly, Jesus does not require everyone who follows him to give away everything and join his itinerant band. What is important is to discern God’s will for your life and then spend your life doing God’s will. But no matter what manner of life you live, if you are indeed a Christian, your life cannot be centered on mammon, that is, worldly wealth that consists of money and possessions.

You must be willing to share what you have with those in need. This is the unambiguous point of our Gospel today. Jesus makes this point by telling the very dramatic parable of Lazarus and the rich man. As with the Parable of the Good Samaritan and that of the Dishonest Steward, today’s parable is part of the material only found in Luke.

What these parables have in common is that they clearly teach what it means to be a follower of Jesus. Being a Christian, according to the teaching of Jesus found in Luke, is to selflessly serve others for the sake of God’s kingdom. Jesus’ teaching on wealth in this Gospel makes it clear that wealth cannot save you and can surely damn you. This means that wealth and prosperity are not signs of God’s favor. It’s hard to think of anything more antithetical to Christianity than any version of the so-called “Prosperity Gospel,” even in its less virulent manifestations.

Lest the Parable of Lazarus and the Rich Man be misconstrued, it is important to point out, as the late Catholic New Testament scholar, Fr. Raymond Brown did, that their “different fates after death are not based on the rich man having lived a life of vice, and Lazarus having been very virtuous.”¹ Where they wind up is the direct result of the rich man living “a comfortable and well-fed life, while Lazarus was hungry and miserable.”² Moreover, it was within the rich man’s ability to at least give Lazarus what he needed, as the old saying puts it, “to keep body and soul together.”

In a move echoed by Charles Dickens more than a thousand years later, in his novella A Christmas Carol, realizing the he blew it, the rich man asks Father Abraham, on whose breast Lazarus now comfortably reclines, if Lazarus can journey back to alert his five brothers to the danger they’re in by their manner of life. Unlike the grace given to Ebeneezer Scrooge, the rich man’s request, according to Father Abraham, cannot be granted. When reading this parable, I am always struck that, even in death, the rich man wants Lazarus to cool his tongue, Lazarus to go back and warn his brothers. I think this is an acute case of not getting it.

In denying the rich man’s request, Abraham points out that, like him, his brothers are able to hear and heed Moses and the prophets. What is meant by this can be seen very clearly in our first reading, which again, is from the Book of the Prophet Amos. Failing to heed the prophet’s call to return to fidelity with God’s covenant and choosing instead to luxuriate and satiate themselves with all the “good” things in life while ignoring the plight of the widow, the orphan, the foreigner, and the poor, they will be exiled.

The Rich Man and Lazarus. Illustration for The Life and Lessons of Our Lord by John Cumming (John F Shaw, c 1890)

Exile is not God punishing them directly. Rather, it is the natural consequence of their embrace of injustice, their failure to be compassionate, merciful, their lack of hesed. Hesed, which is often best translated as “lovingkindness,” is God’s defining characteristic. In other words, they refuse to live in thanksgiving for God’s goodness to them. Thanksgiving is expressed by loving your neighbor as you love yourself, just as God set forth in the Law.³

Jesus over and over again in his various disputations with the Pharisees, which is the context for this parable, insists that Law is but the means to accomplishing the ends of loving God with your whole being and loving your neighbor as another self. If you fail to recognize not only the necessity but the urgency of doing this, like the rich man, you are left without excuse. You simply make a different choice. As we all know, choices have consequences.

It’s clear that, despite presumably knowing Moses and prophets, the rich man felt he had no obligation towards this beggar, covered with sores, who sat at his gate day after day. In his parable, Jesus makes clear the consequence of this choice.

Again, this can all sound quite dire, even a little scary. What gets lost is that helping those in need is not just the way to eternal happiness but, because it makes God's kingdom present, it is a key to happiness now. Each of our lives place daily demands on us. Other people rely on us. Meeting these demands and obligations isn’t just okay, it’s necessary. But each of us and all of us together as a parish community need to see those who are in need, recognize their need, and look for ways to help them. Our recent participation in the food drive for the Bountiful Food Pantry is a good example. So is the parish council’s endeavor to distribute parish funds set aside to help those in need. Our Ladies of Charity, with eager help of many in the parish, as well as our Knights of Columbus Council, do much for those in need. Of course, there are many individual acts of charity done routinely by a lot of you.

The Lord isn’t asking you to save the world. The rich man was not held accountable for all the world’s needs, or even for all Lazarus’ needs. But, from his abundance, he certainly could’ve provided food to someone who was clearly starving and maybe paid for some medical assistance to deal with his sore-marked body.

A story is told about C.S. Lewis: one day, while walking down the street with a friend, a man approached and asked him for money. Digging into his pocket, Lewis extracted and then gave the man some money. His friend said something like, “How do you know he won’t spend that money on drink?” Lewis wittily replied, “It’s alright. That’s what I was going to spend it on.”

While funny, this tale about C.S. Lewis is a great lesson in not holding on to mammon too tightly. In contrast to the disturbing stinginess of the rich man in Jesus’ parable, Lewis gives us an example what is meant in our second reading when, as Christians, we are exhorted to “pursue righteousness, devotion, faith, love, patience, and gentleness,” what it looks like to “Compete well for the faith.”⁴

Abraham goes on to say, in response to the rich man’s request for Lazarus to pay a posthumous visit to his brothers in order to warn them, nodding to Jesus’ future resurrection, “If they will not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded if someone should rise from the dead.”⁵

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1 Raymond Brown, An Introduction to the New Testament (New York: Doubleday), 250.^↩
2 Ibid.^↩
3 Leviticus 19:18.^↩
4 1 Timothy 6:11-12.^↩
5 Luke 16:31.^↩

Year C Twenty-fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Readings: Amos 8:4-7; Ps 113:1-2.4-8; 1 Tim 2:1-8; Luke 16:1-13

Jesus’ teaching as handed on in the Gospels is often not as straightforward as we suppose it to be. Our Gospel reading for today, the Parable of the Unjust Steward, is an example of this. As a master teacher, the Lord used different techniques and methods depending on his subject and his audience.

The Parable of the Unjust Steward is only found in Saint Luke’s Gospel. It is material the inspired author did not take from Mark or from the source he had in common with Matthew. At first glance, the difficulty this teaching presents is that it can seem as if Jesus commends the steward’s shady business practices.

This steward’s practices are shady because, while he succeeds in hauling in a lot of income by collecting the debts owed to the master who is dismissing him, he cheats his soon-to-be former master by cutting great deals for the debtors. He does this so that perhaps one of these debtors will hire him.

What is the point of the Parable of the Unjust Steward? Well, the point Jesus seeks to make is a rather nuanced one. The difficulty with this is that we do not live a culture, whether secular or religious, that deals with nuance very well. While Jesus certainly does not commend the steward’s underhanded dealings, he praises what the late New Testament scholar Raymond Brown calls the steward’s “prudent and energetic initiative.”¹

This is borne out in Jesus’ own application of the parable. The heart of his application is: “make friends for yourselves with dishonest wealth, so that when it fails, you will be welcomed into eternal dwellings.”² What does Jesus mean by making “friends” with worldly wealth?

First, worldly wealth will always fail you in the end, even if only at death. This is verified by the truth of the cliché “You can’t take it with you.” It is also verified by the treasures discovered in the tombs of the Pharaohs, which were filled with wealth the ancient Egyptian religion thought they would need on the other side, as it were.

Secondly, this is where our first, very challenging reading, from Amos, bears out “Luke’s theological tenet that abundant money corrupts.”³ This comes into clearer view when you read Jesus’ very next parable about Lazarus and the rich man, which is our Gospel for next week.

Only love liberates

Readings

Okay, I tried to post a reflection on today's readings. It was going well and then, due to being subject to some kind of parental controls, I lost it all. I don't like this reboot as much as what I was originally writing. But, in a spirit of detachment for the sake equinamity, it will have to do.

True freedom, according to Jesus, means not getting bogged down with things or even with people. It's fine to have things. You surely need some things. But having is different from possessing. The same goes for relationships. Being made in the image of God, we are relational. We need people. Hence, relationships are essential to being human, to flourshing. By contrast, to possess things or people is to cling to them tightly, to depend on them, to place your trust, that is, your hope, in them.

As a Christian, you should seek to live simply. Don't seek to possess more than you need. In addition to being kind and caring, be prudent and circumspect in your relations with others. Of course, be generous with what you have, even with those things you need because others need these things, too. This extends to being generous with yourself for the sake of others. It is by living simply and generously that you place your trust, your hope, in God.

What is death if not the ultimate entrusting of yourself to God? This is what it means when, in the Church's Funeral Rites, we "commend" the deceased to God. I can't think of a more vivid example of this than the tombs of the Pharaohs, which were filled with things these rulers were thought to want and need for eternity. I know this is to get things wrong vis-a-vis the metaphysics of ancient Egyptian religion, but to make my point with hyperbole, none of the things entombed with the bodies of the Pharoahs seem to have been used.

Much the same can be said of your relationships with people, even those closest to you, maybe particularly those closest to you. What Jesus means by "hate" in today's Gospel is not what we typically mean when we use the word, infused as it is with negativity and even violence. Rather, he is talking about who has the priority, who comes first. Jesus urges you to acknowledge your dependence on and place your trust in God. He is talking about making your relationship with God your first priority.

Our relationships, particularly those that are most intimate, often take first priority in our lives. Among other things, this places enormous pressure on those with whom you are in relationship. This also sets you up for disappointment, either ultimately or perpetually.

It's easy to conflate Jesus' Two Great Commandments. While inextricably bound together, love of God and love of neighbor must be distinguished one from the other. Of course, as scripture teaches, you can't say "I love God" and at the same time hate- in the sense we use this word- your neighbor (1 John 4:20). Jesus is saying, "Put God first. Place your trust in God, not in people or things." Given enough time, everyone will let you down, even if it's only when s/he dies.

We often use the phrase, usually about doing good things, "without counting the cost." In today's Gospel, Jesus, using two easy-to-grasp parables, tells us exactly the opposite. He urges anyone who would follow him to carefully and fully count the cost.

It's hard to trust God, especially when your life isn't going very well, or even if just not as swimmingly as you think it should going. But the cost of following Jesus is journeying with him to the cross. The Lord wants you to be clear that following him is absolutely not about living your best life now. It isn't about being rich, driving a great car, wearing great clothes, taking awesome vacations, etc. Look, for most people, life is a vail of tears no matter what. Buddha was right: to live is to suffer. The question becomes, is there any point to it?

In the first of the two parables, Jesus urges would-be followers to count the cost to have the resources to finish. To reverse the first sentence of the previous paragraph: It's easy to "trust" God when everything is going great. But what if you lost everything tomorrow? Someday, you will lose it all, guaranteed. Jesus teaches time and again that wealth and the desire for wealth are the biggest obstacles to entering God's kingdom. It is genuinely Christian logic to assert that you gain resources by refursing to possess anything or anyone. Detatchment is essential.

Our Collect for this Twenty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time, after acknowledging that God has redeemed us and, through Christ by the power of the Spirit, has adopted us as "beloved sons and daughters," we ask him to "look graciously upon us" so that we "may receive true freedom." Not only in our Gospel, but in our reading, taken from that unique text, Saint Paul's Letter to Philemon, we hear about what true freedom is.

Freedom, at least in Christian terms, is not essentially about resisting external constraints. In other words, freedom is not freedom from. Rather, freedom is for following Christ. For Christians, genuine freedom can never be taken away, not even by death. Christ's resurrection shows us that love is stronger than death. Only love liberates. God is love.

Memorial or the Passion of Saint John the Baptist

Preached on Monday's oblgatory Memorial

Readings: Jer 1:17-19; Ps 71:1-4a.5-6ab.15ab.17; Mark 6:17-29

Today, the Church celebrates the obligatory Memorial of the Beheading, or the Passion, of John the Baptist. On 24 June each year, we celebrate the Baptist's Nativity. In the Northern Hemisphere, our observance of his birth, often called St. John’s Day, is the longest day of the year, which means, of course, it is the shortest in the Southern Hemisphere.

Traditionally, John the Baptist has been much more venerated than he is now. The inspired author of Saint Matthew’s Gospel writes that Jesus proclaimed: “among those born of women there has been none greater than John the Baptist.”¹ The Baptist is considered the “seal,” or the last of the great Old Testament prophets. His beheading, his martyrdom, like many prophets before him, was for, well, being a prophet.

It is not the job of a prophet to foretell the future. God calls prophets to call his people to repentance, to call them back to fidelity to God. Herod imprisoned John because John called him out for marrying his brother’s wife, something God’s law forbids. Even today Catholic canon law prohibits such a move. You cannot licitly marry your sibling’s former spouse.

Because the Baptist denounced Herod and Herodias’ illicit union, Herod, at her urging, had him imprisoned. Herod, it seems, was torn between his fascination with this strange man and Herodias' scorn for the raggedy prophet, who wore camel skin clothes and ate locusts. This episode is found in Mark’s Gospel, which is the first written of the Gospels. Both Matthew and Luke use Mark as a source. Given some its particularities, it seems pretty historicially genuine.

Beheading of John the Baptist, by Nicholas Roerich, first half of 20th century

Mark’s Gospel even includes that, while “perplexed” by John, Herod, nonetheless, “liked to listen to him.”² Why? It’s a fascinating question. The inspired author also tells us Herod knew the Baptist “to be and righteous and holy man.”³ Could it be that someplace, deep down, Herod longed to heed John’s prophetic warning and repent? If so, what kept him from doing so? Perhaps it his situation was such that he could see no way out of it. In case you didn’t know this, sin is a trap. Sin is quicksand. Sin is enslaving. Sinful choices about big things can leave you feeling trappped by and in your circumstances, especially when a change would throw your life into what might seem unpredictable chaos.

While it is not the job of a prophet to foretell the future, it is within the prophetic scope to warn that the consequence of sin is death. It’s easy to be fascinated by religion or even be a “fan” of Jesus. Christ didn’t come to win over fans. He came to invite followers. There is a big difference between a fan and a follower.

We esteem the Blessed Virgin Mary, and rightly so, for being the preeminent disciple of her son. Veneration of John the Baptist among Christians has traditionally been almost as high as that of our Blessed Mother. In many Eastern Catholic and Orthodox churches, the sanctuary is behind an iconostasis. On either side of the door are icons of Blessed Mary and the Baptist.

John the Baptist was fearless in the way Jesus invites his followers to be. We are fearless because we know that in and through Christ we will live forever. So, death has lost its sting. Faith gives birth to hope and hope, as the Baptist and other martyrs show us, les on the far side of optimism. Hope is what enables us to love God and neighbor fearlessly. Hope is what allows us to venture outside our comfort zones for the sake of God’s kingdom.

By his refusal to back down though cast into prison with the threat of death daily hovering over him, the Baptist is a sign of hope, not despair. His is the victory, not the loss. Like Jeremiah, the Baptist trusted in God’s promise: “They will fight against you, but not prevail over you, for I am with you to deliver you, says the LORD.⁴

By virtue of your baptism and relying on God's promise, like the Baptist, you are called prepare the way of the Lord, to prepare the way for his Kingdom.

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1 Matthew 11:11.^↩
2 Mark 6:20.^↩
3 Mark 6:20.^↩
4 Jeremiah 1:19.^↩

Be humble and give

More out of habit than anything, at the beginning of a week following one of the busiest and worst weeks I've had in a while, I want to post a little thought about today's Gospel. The thought that came to me when reading Luke 14:1.7-14 was: Jesus certainly wasn't the most polite dinner guest.

I suppose a second thought is that this pericope (a "pericope" is an extract from a text, but particularly an extract from a book of the Bible) does not require much by way of exegetical clarification to understand what the Lord is saying in either of his two utterances.

In this passage, he does not use parables. Rather, he speaks directly about what he is experiencing at the dinner. Concerning the points he seeks to make, not only can we say plus ça change plus c'est la même chose, it seems, at least to me, that the tendencies he address have become even more pronounced.

Mindful that what used to be satire is now real, in our day and cultural milieu what Jesus denounces regularly occurs it what would perhaps seem to him an exaggerated manner. We talk a lot about humility and remain not just prideful but downright arrogant. We're always careful to ensure that any definition of humility we set forth preserves not only our pride but often our vanity.

One of the great things about the virtue of genuine humility is that helps you get beyond self-deception and exaggerated self-images. Often, we to distinguish between humility and humiliation. More often than not, only the proud can be humiliated. The truly humble person cannot be humiliated in most instances. This is not because the genuinely humble person necessarily thinks that s/he is deserving of the humiliation. It's because that person has rid her/himself of the vice of pride. So, s/he can chalk up to the insecurity of the person or people responsible for the humiliation.

Just as prudence governs the virtues, pride can be said to govern the vices. The main point of Jesus' first teaching in today's Gospel is that a humble person often (by no means always) avoids humiliation because, not being prideful, s/he is not prone to acting in presumptive ways.

As to the second teaching, we do not understand the Gift Economy. We only understand the Exchange Economy. The latter makes life a perennial quid pro quo, which, in turn, makes us all users and the used. The economy of the kingdom of God is the Gift Economy. Such an economy is "a system of exchange where valuables are not sold, but rather given without an explicit agreement for immediate or future rewards."

How many birthday and Christmas presents have you bought for people you wouldn't otherwise buy them for but, because they gifted you, you feel obligated to return the gift. To bring home how deeply ingrained the economy of exchange is in us, think of how easily and badly feelings are hurt when you buy someone a birthday, Christmas, or present for another occasion and then on the same or similar occasion they don't get you one. To cure this, Jesus tecahes that it's only when you gift something and expect nothing in return that you've truly given. So, give to those who are utterly incapable of paying you back.

Year C Twenty-first Sunday in Ordinary Time

Readings: Isa 66:18-21; Ps 117:1-2; Heb 12:5-7.11-13; Luke 13:22-30

As the beginning of our Gospel reading reminds us, we are still journeying with Jesus from Galilee to Jerusalem. In Luke’s Gospel, as in Matthew and Mark, he makes this trip only once. Jerusalem is his destination, but he is making his way to the cross. If we follow Jesus this is where he leads us. But he does not lead us to the cross to leave us there. He leads us there to bring us to our destiny, which is eternal life.

It's always difficult to talk about the narrowness of the road to life eternal. Responding to the very pointed question, “will only a few be saved?,” Jesus certainly speaks to this in our Gospel.¹ In order to understand his answer better, it is important to give it some context.

Jesus lived his entire life in Israel, in what was then known as Roman Palestine. Virtually his entire life and ministry occurred among his fellow Jews. We know that rather than taking the long route normally used by Galilean Jews when traveling to Jerusalem, he took the shortcut through Samaria. Jesus also journeyed slightly outside of Jewish areas to the east and to the west.

The salient question in our Gospel is posed by a fellow Jew. At the end of his answer, Jesus says

people will come from the east and the west and from the north and the south and will recline at table in the kingdom of God. For behold, some are last who will be first, and some are first who will be last²

He is talking about the salvation of non-Jews. In our first reading from Isaiah prophetically foretells that God will make himself known to other nations and “gather” those, non-Israelite people, to himself. Some of these gentiles he “will take as priests and Levites.³

To add insult to injury, the “you” to whom he refers when saying, using the third person, “you yourselves will be cast out” is his fellow Jews.⁴ He is talking to and about those who considered themselves the most righteous, the most observant, who thought they’d earned God’s good favor by stringent observance of the 613 mitzvot- the dos and donts that determined whether you were observant. In many cases, they felt their meticulous observance was their ticket to criticize the perceived laxity and sinfulness of others.

Jesus never had much time for or patience with those who did not recognize their own need for God’s mercy. As he said earlier in Luke’s Gospel, during his ministry in Galilee before setting out for Jerusalem: “I have not come to call the righteous to repentance but sinners.”⁵

The word “hypocrite,” which, in Greek, refers to a stage actor, is bandied about quite a bit. Sometimes accurately, often inaccurately. It is part and parcel of Christian belief and should come as no surprise that even a committed Christian still sins. A fundamental aspect of Christian belief is summed up well by Saint Paul: “all have sinned and are deprived of the glory of God.”⁶

In his first lengthy interview, given about six months after becoming Pope, Pope Francis was asked: “Who is Jorge Mario Bergoglio?” The Holy Father responded with- “I do not know what might be the most fitting description... I am a sinner. This is the most accurate definition. It is not a figure of speech, a literary genre. I am a sinner.”⁷ As someone who preaches to others, I am conscious that I am a sinner who needs a Savior as much as anyone and perhaps more than most.

It is our reading from Hebrews, written for and to Jewish Christians who, due to persecution by fellow Jews, were tempted to renounce their faith in Christ, that helps us apply what Jesus teaches in our Gospel. It’s important to point out that “disciple” and “discipline” are closely related. A disciple is one who practices the disciplines of a master. A disciple is like an apprentice, or in our day, a player. Sticking with that metaphor, a master is like a coach. A player has to have confidence that it is by listening to, learning from, and applying what her/his coach teaches s/he will be a successful player and the team will be a winning team.

The inspired author refers to an experience that is common even now: fathers, at least good ones, seek to teach their children what they need to succeed in life. Disciplines like going to bed and getting up at regular times, exercising regularly, eating healthily, keeping your living space tidy, being reliable and keeping your word, and treating others with respect.

While I think all of us who are fathers want to have good, close relationships with our children, a good father recognizes that being a father sometimes comes first. This holds true even when it leads, as it almost inevitably does, to conflicts rooted in a failure to see beyond “Dad, you’re mean” or "Dad, you don't understand"(on a good day). Especially as your children get older, parents have to carefully discern when to intervene and when not to get involved.

Due to sometimes traumatic experiences, it is understandably difficult for some people to accept or even comprehend God as Father. Nonetheless, this is how God reveals himself through Christ. But God isn’t just any father; he is the best possible Father- the Mother of all Fathers! Unlike our own dads or those of us who are dads, even our Holy Father, the Pope, God is not a sinner. Our Father in heaven is perfect because he has revealed: God is love.⁸ Jesus is proof of this:

For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish but might have eternal life. For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world might be saved through him⁹

In a conversation with her when I was a young adult, my mom, who had a very complex relationship with her own mother, said to me: “I think at some point we all have to forgive our parents.” You know what? Our relationship with God can be complicated, too!

A few days ago, I texted a friend who is experiencing some difficulties and trying to help her brother, who is also going through a rough time. Her reply to my chipper inquiry took me back a bit: “I’ve given up praying. I’m mad at God and, quite honestly, I wonder if he even exists.” My friends, this happens. It's okay. Because God is a good Father, he understands and his love for you remains always undiminished.

Maybe the most perfect image of God as Father given in the whole of the Bible is the father in the story of the Prodigal Son. We can only call God our Father because of Jesus Christ, who suffered, died, and rose for us. Our Father, using his own (often difficult to understand or even endure) ways and means, urges us on our way to Jerusalem and beyond, along the narrow path back to himself. As the inspired author of Hebrews so accurately perceived:

At the time, all discipline seems a cause not for joy but for pain, yet later it brings the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who are trained by it. So strengthen your drooping hands and your weak knees. Make straight paths for your feet, that what is lame may not be dislocated but healed¹⁰

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1 Luke 13:23.^↩
2 Luke 13:29-30.^↩
3 Isaiah 66:18.21.^↩
4 Luke 13:28.^↩
5 Luke 5:32.^↩
6 Romans 3:23.^↩
7 Antonio Spadaro, S.J. “A Big Heart Open to God: An interview with Pope Francis.” America magazine 30 September 2013^↩
8 1 John 4:8.16.^↩
9 John 3:16-17.^↩
10 Hebrews 12:11-13.^↩

Solemnity of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary

Readings: Rev 11:19a.12:1-6a.10ab; Ps 45:10-12.16; 1 Cor 15:20-27; Luke 1:39-56

We sometimes lose sight of just how audacious it is to be a Christian. For example, going with the flow, we’ll say or agree to things like: “Death is natural.” Christians should have the audacity to insist “There’s nothing natural about death!” We were not born to die. We were created and redeemed to live forever.

As philosopher Heidegger explored in his magnum opus Being and Time, death is the horizon over which we cannot see. I am deeply suspicious of claims to know the afterlife in the vivid detail in which some describe it. Besides, most such claims amount to an idealized continuation of earthly life.

Contrast claims of detailed knowledge about life after death with Saint Paul who, quoting third Isaiah, insists: “’no eye has seen… no ear has heard, and… no human mind has conceived’ -- the things God has prepared for those who love him.”¹ But revelation, handed on by means of both scripture and tradition, gives us some glimpses over the horizon of death. Maybe just enough to whet our appetite, to channel our desire.

This is the point Saint Paul makes so explicitly in our reading from his First Letter to the Corinthians when he writes- “The last enemy to be destroyed is death.”² One way to understand the read, seven-headed dragon in our second reading is as death. By his death and resurrection, Jesus Christ destroyed death. This is what the Solemnity of our Blessed Mother’s Assumption is all about.

Christians have celebrated the Holy Mother of God being bodily assumed into heaven practically from the beginning of the Church. 15 August is the day Christians both East and West, including many Protestant communions that follow the liturgical calendar, have celebrated this wondrous event. Rather than being a divisive factor among Christians, our Blessed Mother, as mothers tend to do, brings us together.

Mary, Jesus’ Mother, is the model disciple because in her fiat, her “Yes!,” to what God asked of her. By saying to the archangel, “May it be done to me according to your word,” she committed herself wholly and completely to God, with all that meant. She was given a glimpse of what this meant when old man Simeon, whom she encountered in the Temple when her son was but eight days old, predicted what Jesus himself understood:

Behold, this child is destined for the fall and rise of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be contradicted (and you yourself a sword will pierce) so that the thoughts of many hearts may be revealed³

Jesus’s Presentation in the Temple is the third Glorious Mystery of the Rosary. The fruit of this mystery is obedience to God, which means, what Mary understood through her experience: hope is realized through suffering. Ultimate hope is realized through death. As probably all of us know from our own experience, this is a painful realization. This is why we pray to Mary with these words from the Salve Regina:

To thee do we cry,
Poor banished children of Eve;
To thee do we send up our sighs,
Mourning and weeping in this valley of tears

We are not here this evening to worship the Virgin Mary. While we do not worship her, we do recognize the special place she occupies in God’s economy of salvation. This humble “nobody” from backwards Nazareth indicates this herself in our Gospel reading for today’s solemnity.

In response to her kinswoman Elizabeth’s Spirit-filled greeting, Miriam of Nazareth sings the canticle we now call her Magnificat. This lovely song begins:

My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord; my spirit rejoices in God my Savior for he has with favor on his lowly servant. From this day all generations will call me blessed⁴

Again, while we do not gather to worship Mary, we do gather, as have nearly all generations of Christians, to call her blessed. It is clear Christian teaching, rooted in the first commandment and reiterated in our Lord’s two great commandments that we worship God- Father, Son, and Spirit- and God alone. We venerate the saints, those holy women and men who show what following Christ looks like in every age, including our own.

Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary, by Guido Reni, ca. 1642

Between worship, the Greek name for which is latria, and veneration, technically called dulia, is the category of hyperdulia. Latria is due to God. Dulia is due the saints. Hyperdulia, which means what it sounds like, super- or turbocharged dulia or veneration, which does not rise to the level of worship. To Mary, the Mother of God, and her alone, do we super-venerate.

Mary’s Bodily Assumption into heaven is the fourth Glorious Mystery of her Most Holy Rosary. The fruit of this mystery is the grace of a happy death. Getting back to my first point, what can a “happy death” possibly be?

As no doubt our Blessed Mother, along with Saint Paul, understood, the grace of a happy death is dying knowing that because of Jesus Christ death is not the end. Hence, death is a transitus, meaning a passage or a crossing over, not from life to death, but from death into life eternal. The resurrection will be the completion of this transitus.

We should meditate on the great mysteries of our faith often, even daily. So, use the Rosary as the great instrument of grace that it is. By means of it, bring your intercessions before your Mother, confident she will intercede for you.

Once again, I urge you to memorize the Memorare. Pray this prayer often. When someone asks you to pray for them or for an intention they have, commit it to the Blessed Virgin through her Memorare. Use it to entrust her with your own prayers and intentions.

Let’s end our reflection on this great mystery of our faith with the Memorare. If you know it, pray it along with me:

Remember, O most blessed Virgin Mary,
that never was it known
that anyone who fled to thy protection,
implored thy help,
or sought thy intercession,
was left unaided.
Inspired by this confidence
I fly unto thee,
O Virgin of virgins, my Mother.
To thee I come,
before thee I stand,
sinful and sorrowful.
O Mother of the Word Incarnate,
despise not my petitions,
but in thy mercy hear and answer me.
Amen

To this, let’s add:

Holy Mary, Mother of God,
pray for us sinners now
and at the hour of our death

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1 1 Corinthians 2:9.^↩
2 1 Corinthians 15:26.^↩
3 Luke 2:34-35.^↩
4 Luke 1:46-48.^↩