Twenty-Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Dominica XXVI per Annum C
25 September 2022

   Last week’s Gospel concluded with these words: “You cannot serve both God and mammon.”  Mammon refers to wealth, specifically a wealth that one treats as an idol, whether consciously or not.  The message is that we cannot serve both God and wealth; we cannot serve two masters.  As I mentioned last week, this section of St. Luke’s Gospel we are in is the Lord’s extended teaching about the proper use of wealth. 

   This parable is unique in that one of the figures is named, as opposed to the typical trend in parables of unnamed characters.  Usually we have only a rich man, a steward, a man who loses a sheep, a woman who loses a coin.  But here the poor and diseased man is named Lazarus.  The rich man is not named.  However, you might come across this parable referred to as the Parable of Lazarus and Dives.  In our Catholic tradition, the rich man was eventually given the name Dives, not because it is a name but because “Dives” is Latin for rich man.  There has been speculation that perhaps this Lazarus is the same Lazarus from John chapter 11, who died and who was brought back from the dead as a warning and as a sign to persuade others to believe.  We do not know.  There is also speculation about this particular rich man.  Not only is he rich, like the rich man in last week’s parable, but this rich man seems to be spectacularly rich.  He is rich and he is also dressed in linen and fine purple, purple being a color associated with royalty.  Just to make a quick modern connection with that color: Did you notice on Queen Elizabeth II’s coffin and on the high altar at Windsor Castle that the crown, the orb, and the scepter were placed on pillows of purple fabric?  The rich man also “dined sumptuously each day”.  It is one thing to be rich enough to eat well, but it is an entirely unique level of wealth to eat so well on a daily basis.  The connection of purple to royalty and the spectacular wealth of this particular rich man has led some to speculate that this may be a veiled reference to King Herod Antipas.  But again, we do not know.

   Today’s parable gives us an illustration of what it can look like when we attempt to serve both God and mammon.  Now very few of us may have a wealth equivalent to that described of this rich man, but each of us is quite wealthy compared to large swaths of humanity around the world.  Whatever the bottom line of our own finances is, each of us can take a lesson from this parable about our relationship to wealth, the danger of complacency, and the call to be good stewards who use our treasure for others.

As children of God we are given gifts that we do not earn or deserve.  We are given life and the offer of salvation.  We are entrusted with gifts that are not ours to horde but to use in service of others.  We are not made for ourselves.  We are not enriched by gifts for ourselves.  We are called together as a community, the Church, the family of God.  We are our brother’s keeper.  Furthermore, to respond to Christ’s calling in such a way that deserves heavenly reward, we cannot be indifferent to the needs of others around us.  In his complacency with all the goods of this world, the rich man in the parable failed to notice and to respond to the needs of Lazarus who was right at his door, right in his view.  After death, the rich man finds himself in a place of torment with a “great chasm” separating him from the place of blessing with God imaged as the “bosom of Abraham.”  In this a stark lesson comes to light for us who still have time to change our own ways: We learn that whatever the distance between ourselves and God in the life to come just may be a reflection of the distance we put between ourselves and the poor in this life.

   The rich man goes to a place of torment after death.  But I think a powerful lesson for us and our calling to be stewards of our goods is to take note of what the rich man does not do.  The parable doesn’t tell us that the rich man is an idolator.  He doesn’t break the Sabbath.  There is no evidence that he stole from anyone.  We are not told that he is a liar, an adulterer, or a murderer.  The parable simply describes that he lived a life of luxury and gluttony and that led him to be complacent in this life and it led him to fail to love his neighbor, imaged in the poor man Lazarus who was right at his door.  In other words, this is a powerful lesson because the rich man is condemned to torment for a sin of omission.  He didn’t commit the gravest of sins against the Ten Commandments.  But he failed in charity.  He failed to love his neighbor as himself.  Luxury and ease can cause blindness and complacency.  We learn in this parable how significant and weighty a thing it is to be called to use our resources and our wealth as a means to extend God’s generosity to others, as a means to serve and to care for the needy, whom we should not fail to notice.

We see this same lesson in the first reading too.  The rich and powerful are visited with punishment and exile in today’s readings - not simply because of their wealth but for their refusal to share it; not for their power but for their indifference to the suffering at their doors.  Those who are complacent and filled with much, such that they are prevented from realizing their own poverty and the need of others, will have nothing in the life to come.  Complacency is the deadly enemy of a lively faith that must, according to St. Paul, “compete well” and strive to “lay hold of eternal life.”

   With today’s readings ringing in our ears, in our minds, and in our hearts, some probing questions ought to come to mind.  What comforts and complacencies do we need to be shaken out of?  Will we let God’s Word in Scripture unsettle us and cause us to evaluate whether we are truly striving for holiness?  Do we compete more for things of this life rather than competing to keep ourselves on the good side of the chasm between damnation and salvation?  Do we sit by idly and allow our kids to be complacent about faith and discipleship, while keeping them fat on things that will not last?  You see, unlike the rich man’s many brothers, we have not only Moses and the prophets to listen to but God Himself in the flesh – Jesus the Christ!  Will we listen?  Or will we find the distance we keep between ourselves and the needy and poor to be the distance between us and the kingdom of light, refreshment, and life in the world to come?

Twenty-Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Dominica XXV per Annum C
18 September 2022

 Last weekend we heard the “lost and found” parables by which the Lord highlights his outreach to sinners.  If we are honest we, like we heard from St. Paul last week, need to recognize ourselves as “foremost” among that group of sinners to whom the Lord is sent on mission to save.  The remainder of this section of the Gospel is the Lord’s instruction on the proper use of wealth.  It is a good preface for us to think and pray about as in a few more weeks I will want to address our common call and need to be stewards and to share responsibility for the needs of our parish.
But in the meantime, you better get ready for the car ride home, especially if your kids were listening closely to today’s parable.  The parable our Lord uses today is a real head scratcher and is regarded rather widely as one of the most difficult to understand.  It’s the parable of the dishonest steward who squanders his master’s property, is threatened with losing his position as steward, who then clearly cheats his master by lessening the amount the debtors owe the master and then… the Lord concludes the parable with “And the master commended that dishonest steward for acting prudently.”

Is anyone else wondering what is going on here?  If we are supposed to take this parable at face value… commending the dishonesty and thievery… it sure seems like a huge link in the project of Christianity and morality and virtue has just given way.  If THAT’S the case I’m not sure what you are doing here.  And if dishonesty is being commended I’m really not sure what I am doing here as a life’s commitment and calling.  In fact, I think I’ll leave now and head to brunch at the Devon Tower… last one out turn out the lights!

Is the Lord’s parable congratulating the steward’s dishonesty?  Is the dishonesty put forward as a model for us?  What are we supposed to make of this?  The key here is to not get locked in on the steward’s dishonesty, which is clearly wrong.  What the parable is commending is not dishonesty and thievery but the steward’s response and reaction to a threat, and to his acting prudently to gain security for himself.  In other words, it is the prudence that the Lord is highlighting in this parable, albeit through the means of a confusing figure who is dishonest.  I think this is how we can know the focus is prudence.  Consider how the parable continues next: “For the children of this world are more prudent in dealing with their own generation than are the children of light.”

The dishonest steward saw a threat, saw a loss coming his way, and he didn’t hesitate to take decisive action to change the course of things and to try to improve his lot.  He did this when faced with losses in this world, with loss of material gain, job, and earthly security.  His prudence to take decisive action is supposed to serve as the model for us… a model which is not a call to dishonesty, but to likewise take decisive action to secure our life – not in this world but – in the world to come.  “For the children of this world are more prudent in dealing with their own generation than are the children of light.”  How do we know that we aren’t supposed to leave here today thinking the whole Christian project of morality and virtue is falling apart?  How do we know that we aren’t supposed to leave here today thinking we are being told to be dishonest?  Because if you have faith in the Lord as your master, and all the more if you are baptized, you are NOT a child of this world but a child of the light!

 The point of the Lord’s lesson is for us to see what threatens our eternal dwelling in the kingdom of light and to take prudent action to change course!  Where have we squandered the Lord’s grace?  Where have we been unfaithful as stewards of all that we have been given?  Where is there sin in our life?  What is an obstacle to our life with the Master?  And when we take account of our stewardship and admit those things, then the encouragement of the parable is to take decisive action to change course!  We might ask ourselves: Why can we be slow to address sin in our lives?  Why can we ignore for so long things that are not consistent with belonging to the Lord?  Why do we not respond quickly and prudently to take some step, however small, to seek our security in the face of coming judgment?  This is the lesson in this confusing parable.

Think of it this way.  If I let you borrow my car, you are probably going to be inclined to be much more careful with it and attentive to guard it than you would be with your own car.  By faith and by baptism we are children of the light!  We have been given life and the life of grace with its hope of eternal life.  What we have is not properly ours but is ours to exercise stewardship over.  And this gets us to the root of the final twist in the parable: “I tell you, make friends for yourselves with dishonest wealth, so that when it fails, you will be welcomed into eternal dwellings.”  The steward who was dishonest but who acted prudently changed the balance sheets of his master’s debtors.  In this he was taking what was not his.  It was dishonest wealth; dishonest gain.  He was taking his master’s wealth to benefit others so that those others would help him when he was in need.  When you consider that the Greek word for master in this parable is “kyrios” from which we get Kyrie – meaning “Lord” you get a glimpse into the final twist of this parable.  This twist should serve as a foundation for our thoughts and prayers about how we are doing as stewards of the Lord.  We are called to recognize that all that we have is really not ours but belongs to the Lord.  What we have is really the Lord’s.  It’s like our dishonest gain.  We don’t deserve it.  The Lord freely gives it.  We take from what he has blessed us with and we use it as stewards to pay the debts, to provide for the needs of others.  In doing so, we have a proper relationship to our gifts, to our wealth; we honor the Lord who makes us his stewards; and, we act prudently as children of the light so that we have made friends with those who will assist us in our need, rally for us, and pray for us that we arrive not at dwellings of this world, but in the eternal dwelling our generous Master and Lord has prepared for us in heaven!

Twenty-Third Sunday in Ordinary Time

Dominica XXIII per Annum C
4 September 2022

 The Lord gives a clear and stark lesson in today’s gospel: Calculate the cost of the project of following him.  The lesson is stark because Jesus tells us to hate even valued family relationships and our own life.  To come to him without such hate means we cannot be his disciple.  If we had one of those street-side church message signs it might be cheeky to play off of this Gospel passage by displaying the message: “Jesus says: Hate others.”  Yeah, it’s probably a good idea that we don’t have one of those message signs, right?  I’d do nothing but get myself in trouble.

 I have been calculating costs, and looking at our parish budget needs as I prepare some remarks on stewardship in a few weeks from now.  I will admit it is hard to maintain a spiritual focus and an awareness of Christ’s presence when crunching budget numbers.  It seems like such a drudgery and far from faith and the things of the Gospel.  Should we then assume that calculating and counting costs is foreign to the faith?  Not according to this Gospel.

  Who experiences a cost to being the Lord’s disciple?  Don’t we usually sort of act as if it is only the martyrs, or the apostles, or great saints – in other words, a select few – who pay a cost, while the vast majority of us live a less costly form of being Christian?  But the gospel doesn’t let us get away with that idea.  Notice Jesus’ words today are not a private lesson for a select few of his disciples.  Rather, the gospel is clear that Jesus addresses this lesson about cost to everyone for he is speaking not to a select few but to “great crowds.”  That’s what makes Jesus’ words so stark and all the more sobering.  You know what that means?  You and I are to experience a cost to following Jesus and choosing him above other relationships, above possessions, and even above our earthly life.  If we refuse to experience that cost then we are not in fact being disciples of Jesus.  And if we are acting like disciples in name only while refusing the cost, then we are as foolish as a tower builder who starts a project but doesn’t have enough money to complete it.  We would be as irresponsible as a king marching in to battle with fewer troops than necessary to win the battle.

 Now at this point I have let that word “hate” hang in the air long enough without comment or explanation.  It is meant to be shocking.  The word in Greek that St. Luke places on Jesus’ lips does literally mean “to hate”.  But the context is important to understand shades of meaning.  Looking at the context we can say that Jesus is using hyperbole in telling us to hate other relationships in order to be his disciple.  In fact, the way to understand this hyperbole is that the Lord is saying we cannot prefer father, mother, wife and children, brothers, and sisters, and even our own life ahead of, or before, him.  To be his disciple means that he is preferred above all else and that our relationship with him is the primary one that defines our life.  You can look at other parallel passages in the other Gospels to help you understand the meaning.  So, in this case, if we look at the parallel passage in St. Matthew’s Gospel (cf. Mt. 10:37) where the Lord gives this same lesson we find this wording: “He who loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; and he who loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me; and he who does not take his cross and follow me is not worthy of me.”  By comparing these two passages we can see how it is a very similar teaching but it is less hyperbolic in St. Matthew’s version.  So, don’t walk away this weekend thinking you are being instructed to literally hate others, much less those closest to you.  But you also don’t get to walk away preferring those relationships to the Lord, not if you want to call yourself a disciple.

Do we admit a cost to following Jesus?  Or do we operate as if there is no cost to discipleship?  The Gospel today can inspire a type of examination of conscience.  What does belonging to Christ totally, belonging to him completely, belonging to him first before all else, mean?  What does it cost you in your family and with friends?  Does it mean you live life in public and at home more intentionally as a Christian?  Does it mean you live differently than those who say, “Lord, Lord,” on their lips, but who don’t follow the Lord in their actions?  Among family and friends how is it visible that the Lord is your primary relationship?  Does it mean you are intentional about prayer time at home for yourself and also together as a family?  Can you calculate the hours spent on TV, entertainment, video games, and social media and draw some conclusions about how that might reveal some things are being placed ahead of the Lord?

 Continuing this examination of conscience, what does being true to Jesus first cost you in a dating relationship or in marriage?  Does it mean you will foster a sacrificial love that seeks and places the good of the other ahead of your own pleasures and self-interests?  Does it mean avoiding the popular secular mindset that leads to cohabiting, living together before marriage?  Does it mean forming a habit of praying out loud together as a couple?  Does it mean guarding and observing chastity before marriage and, once married, observing chastity by being open to the gift of life?

 In this examination of conscience we might ask, what does being a disciple cost you at school or at work?  Does it mean letting yourself be known as a follower of the Lord in the halls of your school or work?  Does it mean you shun crass jokes and the use of the Lord’s Name in vain, a shockingly common and grave sin these days?  Does it mean trying to redirect conversations away from gossip?  Does it mean finding ways to bring up faith and the Church among friends and acquaintances?  Does it mean taking notice of someone at school or work who needs you to bring the compassion and heart of Christ to their burdens?

The Scriptures indicate that following Jesus does and must cost us something if it is authentic.  A discipleship, a Christianity, that costs little or nothing is, when it comes down to it, a fantasy.  To be a disciple is to carry one’s own cross and come after Jesus.  We don’t get to claim to be disciples if we won’t carry a cross.  In the light of today’s Gospel we can ask ourselves: What crosses do I need to carry?  In what areas of life do I need to accept hardship for the Gospel?  How ought I to live differently than the rest of the world lives?  Calculate the cost!  Have we calculated ANY cost?  If following Jesus doesn’t cost me anything, who am I really following?  Does following Christ cost any time?  If so, do I give that time?  Does it cost any talent?  If so, do I use my skills and abilities willingly to serve?  Does it cost me anything financially?  If so, do I sacrifice for the good of this community, for my parish, for my neighbor?  What does get my time, my talent, and my finances?  Does it cost me relationships?  If my friends and acquaintances seem to enjoy living in sin, acting entertained and amused by sin, or living apart from Christ, do I go along because I don’t want to take a stand and carry the cross?  If we go along with false attempts at being disciples, what sort of tower would we be left with?  If we attempt to take the cross out of following Christ what sort of troop losses would be scattered across the battlefield of life?  When we try to convince ourselves of a cheap, cost-free discipleship the first reading reminds us that God’s wisdom, inspired by the Holy Spirit, is above our ways and that “the deliberations of mortals are timid.”  We must be renewed in the message of today’s psalm that we adopt a heavenly wisdom to learn how to count our days: “Teach us to number our days aright, that we may gain wisdom of heart.”