Eighteenth Sunday After Pentecost (Traditional Latin Mass)

Dominica XVIII Post Pentecosten (Mass of the 1962 Missal)
26 September 2021

 IN THE NAME OF THE FATHER, AND OF THE SON, AND OF THE HOLY GHOST.  AMEN.

 This brief passage from St. Matthew gets right to the point of showing our Blessed Lord as able to heal both body and soul.  The Lord’s identity and power as God is on display.  He knows the interior thoughts of the scribes who do not even say verbally, yet think, that he has blasphemed by taking on an attribute of God, namely forgiving sin.  He goes on to prove his authority by performing a physical healing, the miraculous healing of the paralytic.  And though the interior thoughts of man may still today raise questions, doubts, and complaints about the method God chooses to forgive sin, this passage also makes it clear that our Lord has given this authority of his to men, something we hold in faith in our belief that sincere confession and valid absolution are the normal sacramental means by which the Lord Jesus forgives sin in his one Catholic Church.

The parallel passages recounting this same episode from the Gospels of St. Mark (2:1-12) and St. Luke (5:17-26) fill out the picture and tell us more about this episode.  For instance, in the other parallel accounts we learn specifically that four men, presumably friends of the man with palsy, are carrying his mat.  And we learn that the crowds around the Lord are so dense that the only way the men can get the sick man to the Lord is by opening a hole in the roof and lowering the mat down before the Lord.

 All of the Gospel accounts of this event however make note of a particular motivation that drove the Lord to grant the spiritual healing of sin and the physical healing of paralysis.  The passage notes, “and Jesus seeing their faith,” went on to forgive the sins of the man with palsy.  I find this simple acknowledgment quite interesting.  The Gospel passage clearly makes reference to the plural in making use of the possessive pronoun “their,” as in “their faith.”  That pronoun could be an indication that upon seeing the faith of all five men (the four carrying the mat and the man with palsy) the Lord performed the miracle.  Or it could be an indication that upon seeing the faith of only the four who carried the mat he performed the miracle.  Whatever the case, it is certainly true that the reference is plural and thus the faith of the paralytic’s friends is also something that motivated the Lord.

We can learn in part by this how our Lord chooses to function in dispensing his grace.  Faith is an important foundation and a requisite for receiving God’s life.  We in no way want to dismiss the importance that the sick man himself needs to have faith. However, by this passage, we learn a critical lesson that should drive us to be living members of the Body of Christ, seeking to maintain the life of grace, and guarding our unity with the Lord, because we learn that the faith of the sick man’s friends was also instrumental and a motivating factor for our Lord’s miraculous working.  This truth revealed in the Gospel is a foundational reason for our belief in the communion of the saints, and even related to the doctrine on indulgences.  Despite some controversy with the doctrine of non-Catholic Christians, this passage shows us that the Lord chooses to forgive sin and to heal at least some people because of the merits of others (Sermon for this Sunday from St. Ambrose, The Sunday Sermons of the Great Fathers, v. IV, p.183).  Yes, the merits of one person or group can positively impact the good of others and can be a manner by which the Lord dispenses his grace to someone in need.  That might not sound shocking to us.  Yet to some Christians it is.  Suspicion of this Gospel lesson and rejection of this Catholic doctrine leads some to be offended by the notion of the unity we have in Christ and the powerful effects of the intercession of the saints for us, and our part in interceding for others.  We as Catholics accept this as true.  And even more mysterious and viewed with suspicion is the doctrine of indulgences, the foundation of which is the belief that the treasury of graces and spiritual gifts won by Christ together with the saints is like a rich store that the Church has a role in dispensing to the faithful, in particular for the departed and those who have no one to pray for them or to assist them.  For whatever rejection this doctrine might meet, we accept it and find in the brief words today an important foundation of this belief: Seeing their faith, [Jesus] said to the man sick with palsy: Be of good heart, son, your sins are forgiven you.

My brothers and sisters we want to find consolation, joy, and encouragement in such simple words, words it would be easy to pass right over in this passage.  We ourselves have needs.  We know of so many loved ones and friends and still others with whom we interact who need the Lord’s grace and healing.  We naturally want to support in prayer those who have passed before us in death.  And we know we will make that passage someday too and we hope someone will pray for us and assist us.  The working of God’s grace is not like granting a wish.  It is mysterious.  The faith of an individual person must always be involved.  Yet, the faith and merits of others are involved too.  May the generous response of the Lord in today’s passage, motivated at least in significant part by the faith of the sick man’s friends, be an encouraging message for us that we might have confidence in lifting the needs of others to the Lord, interceding for others so that they are carried to the Lord and even placed before him by our faith.

 IN THE NAME OF THE FATHER, AND OF THE SON, AND OF THE HOLY GHOST.  AMEN.

Twenty-Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Dominica XXV per Annum B
19 September 2021

The section of St. Mark’s Gospel that we are in contains three Passion predictions that Jesus makes.  Last week we heard the first, today the second.  Though each of the three predictions is one chapter apart, the Church chooses to put two predictions back-to-back on successive Sundays.  In each case, the disciples clearly don’t get it.  In fact, more accurately we could say in each case we see the blundering of the disciples and the embarrassment of their attempt to distance Jesus and themselves from the shadow/specter that suffering will cast over how Jesus will be the Christ.  Jesus clearly teaches that the way he will be the Christ (and therefore the way a disciple will be a Christian) is through the via dolorosa, the way of suffering that leads to resurrection.  Jesus does not speak of suffering and crucifixion without, thanks be to God, also referencing the resurrection.  This gives us hope in this valley of tears, as we say in the Salve Regina.  On the flip side, it is likewise true, that Jesus does not speak of a resurrection without the cross.  This gives us a certain sobriety and a reality check about life in our fallen world marked by sin.  In the first Passion prediction, from last week’s Gospel, Peter rebuked Jesus and attempted to correct him, to distance him from suffering.  In today’s prediction the embarrassing blundering of the disciples continues as we see the disciples are not willing to accept for themselves that their lives must be marked by the Cross.  We know this because they are caught arguing about power and who will be the successor when Jesus dies.  They are arguing about who among them is the greatest.  What instruction is offered us by hearing two passion predictions and two examples of disciples not getting it?

First, what can we make of what appears to be secrecy on Jesus’ part?  Last week we heard Jesus warn the disciples not to tell anyone about him.  In today’s selection the Lord doesn’t want anyone to know where he is as he continues teaching about his suffering and resurrection.  Doesn’t this seem to fly in the face of openly proclaiming the Gospel?  Doesn’t this seem to undercut the mission of disciples and the Church to give witness to the Lord?  I mean, we talk all the time, right, that we are supposed to share faith and the Gospel with others?  The secrecy doesn’t seem to make any sense, even though sometimes (maybe often?) we might want to say, “Gosh, it would be easier to just keep my faith to myself rather than to be told that I’m supposed to share my faith as a disciple.  I mean, I could handle just lighting my lamp and putting it under a bushel basket.”  I suggest the odd-seeming secrecy is related to our accepting and “getting” the lesson Jesus emphatically teaches of cross and resurrection.  In these Gospel passages the Lord might be wanting secrecy for the time being because he knows (as we see evidence for in the passages) that the disciples don’t get it.  It’s like we heard last week, Jesus said to Peter: “You are thinking not as God does, but as human beings do.”  The Lord wants secrecy for the time being not because disciples are supposed to remain silent, but rather, for as long as they are not thinking as God does, then they don’t get to talk about him.  In other words, if you are going to think as human beings do and try to talk about faith and the Lord and morality and salvation and conform them to your own image… you might as well just shut up.  Lord knows, we hear that kind of useless hot air oh so frequently from people who, knowingly or unknowingly, empty the Gospel of its content.  So, no, we are not off the hook to give witness to our faith; but we must give an accurate witness, a witness that accepts the emphatic teaching of the Lord that he will be the Christ both of suffering and resurrection, both of Good Friday and Easter Sunday.

With two Sundays of Passion predictions in our ears and two Sundays of examples of blundering disciples who don’t get it, I suggest a lesson for us is to examine whether we accept the Lord’s insistent teaching that he will suffer greatly, be rejected, be handed over, that he will be killed and rise again.  It might be easy for us to sort of scoff at the disciples in the Gospel in their refusal to accept a Christ on the Cross.  How silly the disciples in the Gospel seem to be!  We likely cannot appreciate how unexpected a notion it was in the time of the disciples that the promised Messiah would seem to be defeated by suffering, torture, and death.  However, we might want to be cautious about scoffing at the buffoonery of the disciples.  After centuries of Christian faith we rather take for granted that Jesus and Christianity involve the cross.  So expected is the cross to us that it’s even become decoration and jewelry, and sometimes rather opulent at that.  But do we accept the role of the cross precisely as it is, or more as decoration and symbol?

Asking ourselves whether we accept a suffering Lord and suffering in our own life as disciples seems a worthy response to these Gospel passages (from last Sunday and today).  I say that because I suggest we have our own struggles with accepting suffering.  We might not always refuse suffering, but I bet each of us at times struggles with keeping an outlook of faith when challenge, and suffering, and difficulty come our way.  Sure, we might have good sounding words of faith when someone else is suffering, but do those words become empty when suffering comes to us?  We might have some part of our personality that we wish were different.  We might have a moral failure that causes us grief.  We might have challenges in a marriage.  We might have physical defects.  Or maybe we just feel “off,” we feel like life should be easier, but it just doesn’t seem to be so.  Or maybe there is terminal illness or some suffering that is unimaginable.  We can tend to think God is far from us when we suffer.  We can tend to complain and to ask, “Why is this challenge happening to me?”  We can tend to want to say, “Can THIS really be part of God’s plan?  Can any good come from this?”  In our fallen nature these are not surprising questions.  And, yes, we probably need to be cautious about scoffing at the blundering disciples when we ourselves can at times expect resurrection without a cross.

These past two weekends of Passion predictions place before us the crystal clear message that being a disciple of the Lord must have meaning and content and that it costs us something.  In last week’s Gospel the Lord references taking up a cross to teach us that suffering is part of the way of following him.  In today’s Gospel he takes up a child as a way of illustrating the smallness and humility that also must mark the way.  As we participate in this sacrifice of the Lord for us at the Holy Mass, we must clear out the false notions from our minds and place laser focus on what our presence here must mean: We come to this sacrifice of the Lord because we ourselves must humble and lower ourselves and be ready for sacrifice that will make us more like the Lord, whose path is the only way to salvation.

Twenty-Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Dominica XXIV per Annum B
12 September 2021

In the Gospel scene, Jesus and his disciples are out on a long walk, one of those occasions that is both a geographical and a spiritual journey.  On that walk we get to see the mind of Jesus.  We get to see what he thinks it is important to discuss, for it is he who probes the minds of his disciples.  He wants to know how his mission is going by asking what the “word on the street” is about him.  “Who do people say that I am?”  And after offering some of the various answers from the general public, you get the sense that Jesus’ follow up question reveals that the general public doesn’t quite have it correct.  For what the Lord wants to know is how well-formed are his disciples.  He wants to know, “But who do you say that I am?”  He needs his disciples to know who he is.  He needs them to be ready, when it is time, to profess and to proclaim who he is.

I wonder if we can take a lesson from this Gospel about the importance of being able and ready to profess and to proclaim who Jesus is?  This readiness was important enough for Jesus to probe the minds of his most intimate followers, those who were called disciples.  If we are authentic disciples then we must be ready to profess and to proclaim the truth of who Jesus is.  And one main point I want raise in this reflection is that we must notice that being a disciple who is ready to profess and to proclaim Jesus is not just a matter of saying his name – Jesus – or his title – Christ.  That is not enough, that is, if there is no real content behind the profession.  We learn this from the Lord’s long walk and his probing of the minds of his disciples.  Notice that what they, and what we, must be ready to profess and to proclaim has a specific content or meaning.  For after Peter gets it right that Jesus is the Christ, the Lord goes on to be specific and to teach about what that means.  He will be a suffering Christ, who will be rejected, killed, and who will rise again.  And when Peter tries to reject this content of who the Lord is, he gets both barrels in no uncertain terms: “Get behind me, Satan.  You are thinking not as God does, but as human beings do.”

Why is it important to emphasize that our professing of belief in the Lord must be more than mere words on the lips?  Because we live in such a superficial age marked by relativism that seeks to make each person the arbiter of a personal truth that replaces what is actually true.  We are bombarded by slogans and claptrap jargon that sounds enlightened, but when examined you see its light is from the fires of hell.  And we are bombarded by such things even within the Church by those who claim to be disciples.  When it comes to moral debates that have significant societal impact, our belief in the Lord must have meaning and it places specific demands on us as disciples.  Consider some of the hot button issues that make constant news, issues like abortion, the re-definition of marriage, transgender ideology.  So many so-called and notorious “catholics” in our political class present their Catholic credentials but hold positions that reveal they are in fact not Catholics in good standing.  Even some popular priests and other clerics pull a similar game.  It’s as if such people who wear the label “catholic” answer the Lord’s first question saying, “You are the Christ,” but like Peter – before he was rebuked and got the message – they reject the content of what that claim means.  They try to reject the cross and catholic moral teaching, and instead are more in league with what the secular elite dictates.

For some reason it can be considered controversial when the Church speaks on hot button moral issues, or issues that should impact how we as Catholics live, and how we vote, and how we seek to organize society in conformity with Christ’s Kingdom.  But if the Lord in the Gospel could insist that disciples profess both who he is and that such profession must have meaningful content… then such discussions really should not be controversial at all.  In the past few months we have been subjected to the spectacle of a President who regularly proclaims his Catholic credentials.  By analogy, it’s like he answers the Lord’s first question in today’s Gospel and says: “You are the Christ.”  But when one evaluates his multiple actions supporting, promoting, and advancing abortion, among other problematic issues, one sees clearly he is like an errant Peter in the Gospel who seeks to empty that profession of any meaningful content.  He deserves a severe rebuke: “Get behind me, Satan.”  Sometimes it helps demonstrate the problem I am describing by removing it from the realm of faith and showing its faulty logic in a different arena that is less charged.  Here’s a simple analogy using similar empty lingo like that used by abortion supporters in our political class.  You know the game Jenga.  You have planks or blocks and you build up a tower.  The game is to take turns removing planks in such a way that the tower still stands.  The strategy then is that you have to consider which planks are so important, so fundamental, that removing them would endanger the structural integrity of the tower.  Now imagine our political class who are pro-abortion coaching and leading players in Jenga and saying, “I’m personally opposed to pulling out all of the very bottom foundational planks of the tower, but I’m not going to impose my beliefs on other players.”  You know what we call that?  Game over, that’s what!  The tower collapses.  When abortion is promoted, supported, and advanced, the very fabric, the very foundational matters of life and justice, the order of society, and the natural moral law are removed and the tower comes crashing down.  And when a self-proclaimed Catholic does this it is a demonstration that he or she is not actually a catholic in any meaningful way at all.  Sadly, and you know their names, far too many politicians on the national stage who say they are Catholic are really not good Catholics in any meaningful way beyond the surface label, by which they say to the Lord, “You are the Christ,” and “I am a Catholic” but reject what that must mean for how they conduct their lives and their work.  And while I am focusing on the dilemma of self-proclaimed Catholics, the truth is any public figure who uses his platform to promote abortion is not deserving of our support.

So, why bother saying this?  I mean, other than voting such false catholics out of office, which we should do, you might want to say: What can we really do about this, Father?  We can’t change the world.  Well, actually, yes, you can.  Big players in social and political life don’t typically start out on the national stage; they start locally.  So focus locally, and don’t remain silent when local leaders adopt immoral ideas and practices, or when they promote such things in our communities and schools.  Vote according to a full catholic faith that shows the content of what it means to be catholic.  Form your kids in the truth so they are ready both to profess and to proclaim the Lord as Christ and also ready to uphold the content of what that must mean.  Be generous in your openness to life in your marriage and raise up children who will be soldiers in the battle to form our society in greater conformity to the kingship of Christ.  Its starts locally.  After all, the Lord started with only twelve apostles.  We can do our part by evangelization and personal witness to help others grow in their own response to the Lord’s question: “But who do you say that I am?”