The Speakin' Deacon

Thirty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time

2009-11-16T08:10:00.001-05:00

Dn 12:1-3
Heb 10:11-14, 18
Mk 13:24-32

A zillion years ago, when I was a teenager, my wife and I belonged to an ecumenical singing group called the Agape Singers. Indeed that was where I met her. The group was made up of people from all over Louisville, of different Christian faith traditions, different socio-economic levels, a diverse group. One of the songs we sang was taken from 1 Corinthians 13:13, “So faith, hope, love remain, these three; but the greatest of these is love.” The song was worded “There are but three things that last, faith, hope, and love.” The group is long gone, but my wife and I are still together, the love that developed between us surviving, despite the end of the group. Only love lasts, nothing else lasts, everything else is passing, all our plans, all our dreams, all we seem to have accomplished, fade away. Only love, of which one could argue faith and hope are a part, only love is permanent. The first reading today and the Gospel speak of the end, the passing of the earth, of time itself, for nothing is permanent, all things will pass. Toward the end of the last century, the 20th century, a cottage industry grew up around the idea that the end is near, so you had better get ready. Books, movies, television shows, all based on the idea that the signs of the times indicated that the end was at hand, maybe even by the end of the 20th century. Well, it’s 2009 and we’re still here. Perhaps those involved in the end of the world business should have read the last line of the Gospel, "But of that day or hour, no one knows, neither the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father." So the end may be at hand, or maybe not. Other scholars have interpreted all of this end of the world stuff as not the end of the world but the end of the age, meaning that a new age is coming, has perhaps even come. Either way, both say look at the signs, see that things have changed. Things have indeed changed, and we have the sign that they have, the only sign we need. Christ said to learn from the fig tree. When leaves sprout, you know summer is near, an obvious sign, but one we don’t often think about, one we take for granted. The fig tree sprouts leaves, the leaves spread over the tree. Our sign for “the end” has come. Or perhaps not “the end” but the end of the beginning. It’s a sign we don’t often think about, one we take for granted. Christ has come, what other sign do we need? Like the leaves on the tree Christ’s church has spread, growing, growing because of the one thing that lasts, love. No, we don’t always show it, we often fail to live it, but if love were not present, the church would have disappeared long ago. Only the love of God, the love that Christ makes manifest in the world, only this will last. Only love survives the passing of time, the passing of our world. All we do will fade away. The only thing that does not is the love we receive from God and spread to the world around us. That love survives everything for “There are but three things that last, faith, hope, and love.” And the greatest of these is love.

Deacon John
Thirty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time
Nov. 15, 2009

Thirty-second Sunday in Ordinary Time

2009-11-08T10:23:00.001-05:00

1 Kgs 17:10-16
Heb 9:24-28
Mk 12:38-44

Trust, it’s something we don’t seem to do very well. We don’t trust the government to necessarily do the right thing. We don’t trust big business, certain that they are simply out to fleece us for as much as they can get. We look at our neighbor suspiciously, wondering just what they are up to. We don’t trust our employers, afraid we are simply being used, that we are no more than a cog in a machine. I don’t dispute that much of this mistrust has a foundation in truth. People, all people, ourselves included, do too much to cause others to distrust us. Then we are suddenly asked to turn and trust God, to trust God completely, without question or reservation. A pretty big switch from the suspicion we hold everything else in. Elijah travels to Zaraphath. There he encounters a widow and asks her for some water and a bit of bread. There was a drought, and the subsequent famine resulting from the drought. The widow tells him I have only a small amount of oil and flour. My son and I will eat this then die. Yet Elijah urges her to trust that God will care for her, and so God did. She fed Elijah, herself and her son and the oil and flour never ran out, because she trusted. Jesus comments on those putting offerings into the Temple treasury, stating that the one who put in the least actually put in the most. The widow was poor, yet gave what she had, even though she would have little or nothing after her contribution. She was able to trust, trust that God would care for her. Were those widows just the product of a simpler time and a simpler people? Perhaps, but they were not fools, they knew what they were doing, they understood that they were placing themselves in God’s hands, depending on God to care for them. So how do we, complicated, modern, cynical people come to trust in God, trust that God will care for us? How do we break this cycle of distrust we live in? I wish I had an easy answer, I don’t. It’s a struggle, a daily struggle for all of us. We are taught to be self-reliant, depend on no one, take care of yourself, no one else will. Yet at some point in all of our lives we will find ourselves in a position we can’t take care of, a problem we can’t fix, we will need someone, we will need help. I may not be able to bring myself to trust that any authority will help me, be it governmental or corporate. I may not even trust those I should, friends and family. I should turn to God, but do I even trust that God will help me? The problem is that we do not turn to God or anyone until we need help, until our situation seems as desperate as the widow of Zaraphath. Trust can’t simply be the product of desperation, that isn’t trust. We must develop a sense of trust long before we become desperate, we must believe that God, if no one else, is for us, will care for us. We must have faith. Faith must be the basis of our decision making, the basis of our lives. It is only in having faith that we can trust. If we accept faith, have faith in God, before times are desperate, we can trust God knowing that as St. Julian of Norwich said, “But all will be well, and every kind of thing will be well.”
Deacon John
Thirty-second Sunday in Ordinary Time
Nov. 8, 2009

Solemnity of All Saints

2009-11-01T19:22:00.002-05:00

Rv 7:2-4, 9-14
1 Jn 3:1-3
Mt 5:1-12a

I know I have done this and I feel certain many others have done the same. You begin to work on a project, a very important project. Because this project is so important you want it to be right. Indeed, you want it to be more than right, you want it to be perfect, absolutely perfect, completely without flaw. So you work on it, tinkering with this part, changing that part, always doing little things to make it better, just a little better than before, pushing it tweaking it seeking that elusive state of perfection. A state which, unfortunately you will never reach. Since it’s not perfect, you never put it out, you never put it into practice, you never use it. You wait for perfection, but it never comes. You wait for perfection, so it never gets done. You can’t wait for everything to be perfect. You have to implement your plan, your project, and correct things as they come up, otherwise you will never do anything. You are working on a very important project right now, the project of your life. None of us are perfect, nor will we ever reach perfection, not this side of heaven. That does not mean that we should not live our lives, that we should not strive to be perfect, just realize you won’t get there. That is not a bad thing, it is simply being who we are. In the Gospel today Jesus lays out a set of principles, not rules, rather guidelines, ways to assist us in our striving for perfection. We are called to live as closely as we can following these guidelines. We are called to provide comfort, to be meek, to seek righteousness, to be merciful, to be clean of heart, to be peacemakers. Will we always succeed in doing these things? No, we won’t. Does it mean we shouldn’t try? No, we must try we must strive to reach these ideals, even knowing that we will fall short. Think of all the good people you have known in your life, people who have gone on before us, people you are relatively certain have reached perfection, people who are with God, saints. They have reached perfection now, but think back, were they perfect here, or did they struggle as they strove to live as Christ asks us? They reached heaven not because of earthly perfection, they knew they couldn’t be perfect here. They reached heaven because they didn’t let their shortcomings keep them from living, from reaching out to be perfect, and fixing things as they went. They put the project of their life out there in the world despite not being perfect. They reached for what they knew they couldn’t reach here, and that is what makes them saints. Perfection comes, but only in the striving for it. Their example is the one we need to follow. Reach for what you know is out of reach here, so you may reach it in God’s time.

Deacon John
The Solemnity of All Saints
Nov. 1, 2009

Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time

2009-10-25T08:04:00.001-04:00

Jer 31:7-9
Heb 5:1-6
Mk 10:46-52
Back in the dark ages when I was a child, I remember a cartoon about a little bird named Yakee-doodle, a cat whose name escapes me who spent all of his time trying to make Yakee his lunch, and a bulldog names Chopper who always intervened to save Yakee. When Chopper would grab the unfortunate cat just before he could finally catch and consume Yakee, Chopper would turn to Yakee and say, “Close your itty-bitty eyes, you shouldn’t oughta see what’s going to happen next.” We’re a bit like the little bird, with our itty-bitty eyes shut, so we can’t see what’ happening around us.
Bartimaeus, a blind man, waits for Christ to approach, then cries out, Jesus, Son of David, have pity on me. Jesus has Bartimaeus brought to him and asks him what he wants. Bartimaeus, without hesitation, says I want to see. Jesus restores his sight, and says to him his faith has saved him. His faith, faith in Christ, has restored his sight. Ah, he can see, but now he can see all that is around him, faith has opened his eyes to the world, the beauty and the pain, the wonder and the horror. We gather today and approach this table in faith. We have faith in Christ, yet we are afraid to see. We want to open our eyes and see the beauty around us, but our vision isn’t exclusive, we can’t see the beauty without also seeing the pain, the wonder without the horror. We don’t want to see the awful things of the world, but we must. Our faith demands it. We are called to see that pain and horror, and act, act to change it to make the pain beauty, the horror, wonder. We can do this, but only in faith. We can do this, but only if we allow our eyes to be opened. Chopper told Yakee to close his itty-bitty eyes, he shouldn’t oughta see what was going to happen. Christ says to us open your eyes, your faith has saved you. Open your eyes so your faith can move you.
Deacon John
Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Oct. 25, 2009

Twenty-ninth Sundau in Ordinary Time

2009-10-18T19:04:00.001-04:00

Is 53:10-11
Heb 4:14-16
Mk 10:35-45

Be careful what you ask for, you might get it. Sounds silly, but it is a reminder that the things want often come with a price, a price we did not expect, and a price we may not wish to pay. I remember many years ago as a child watching a show about a young boy who had only one eye. People, particularly other children, teased him mercilessly. He was miserable, he hated enduring all the teasing he took for having only one eye, and wanted something to happen to stop the torment he felt. He dreamed of a day when people would stop tormenting him because he had only one eye. One evening, while watching a fireworks display, a stray spark struck the boy, struck him in his good eye. Suddenly he was blind, instead of one eye, he had none. The teasing he endured the torment he had faced certainly ended. I doubt he wanted it to end the way it did, but in the end he did get what he asked for. In the Gospel today the sons of Zebedee, James and John, approach Jesus asking that when Jesus comes into his glory they be seated one on his right and one on his left. Jesus essentially tells them to be careful of what they are asking for, they may get it. He warns them they must follow his path, the path of the suffering servant. They are seeking glory, Jesus warns them they will find hardship, difficulty, pain, death. He also warns them that the path to glory is not a path of leadership that lords over people, but it is rather a path that leads through service. To follow Christ, to get what they seek, they must be ready to suffer and to serve. To follow Christ they must follow the example of Christ and serve others, serve those who would seem to be beneath them. Christ wants them to understand no one is beneath them, no service is too menial, no person unworthy of their work. Glory is not what they think. Real glory is found in being ready to serve, being ready to suffer, in the pouring out of self. We who seek to follow Christ, we who wish to share in the glory of Christ, who may wish to be seated on Christ’s right or left, we must understand what real glory is. Glory has a price, a price we must be willing to pay. Real glory comes to us when we pour ourselves out, when we share what we have, what we are, with those some may deem unworthy of our love. To lead we must serve. To find Christ and share in Christ’s glory, we must be willing to give who we are. We must understand what it is we are asking for.

Deacon John
Twenty-ninth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Oct. 18, 2009

Twenty-eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time

2009-10-11T19:48:00.001-04:00

Wis 7:7-11
Heb 4:12-13
Mk 10:17-30

I have to admit that I have a relatively comfortable life. While I am not wealthy, I certainly lack for almost nothing. My waistline will definitely attest to the fact that I am not starving. One could say that I am blessed by God, but I am not fool enough to believe that just because I am not poor, God somehow favors me over others. I do not believe that God loves me more than someone who is less fortunate than I am. That strikes me as being more than a bit arrogant, and certainly more than a bit foolish. But some people do see things just that way. The people of Jesus time did see things just that way. When Jesus proclaimed that it is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich person to enter the kingdom of God they were genuinely shocked. Wealth was a sign of God’s favor. One who was sick or poor must have done some evil thing to deserve such a fate. A young man approaches Jesus and asks how he may attain eternal life. Jesus admonishes him to keep the commandments. He replies I do and have, all my life. Jesus then tells him, go and sell all you have, give it to the poor, then come and follow me. The young man was devastated. He was like me, like many of us. He had a comfortable life, possessions, to him signs of God’s favor. Give it away, be poor, like a sinner, like one who hadn’t followed the commandments? He simply could not do it. I don’t condemn him, I don’t know that I could do it either. But let’s not make the mistake that Jesus was condemning his wealth, that Jesus was opposed to what the young man had, Jesus wanted to know something else. What were his priorities? What was more important, his possessions, or God? What really mattered to him? Jesus asks that same question of us. What are our priorities? What comes first, your stuff, or God?

Deacon John
Twenty-eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Oct. 11, 2009

Twenty-sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time

2009-09-27T20:08:00.001-04:00

Nm 11:25-29
Jas 5:1-6
Mk 9:38-43, 45, 47-48

When we find ourselves in a leadership position, especially ministerial leadership positions, there are a couple of traps that we need to avoid, traps that are very easy to fall into. Indeed, we can fall into these traps almost before we realize it. First, we have to be careful not to take ourselves too seriously. We have to avoid becoming too self-important. We can easily place ourselves on a pedestal, thinking we deserve to be there, that people should look up to us, because after all, aren’t we important? Climb up on that pedestal, and find out how far down the trip can be. You aren’t that important. It’s not about you, something we can forget. The other trap is even more insidious, and in some ways harder to avoid. People around you begin to think you are important, more important than you really are, and they place you on a pedestal. Suddenly, to them, everything is about you, not about the mission, not about God. Then you, as leader, have to recognize what is happening and get off that pedestal as fast as possible. Moses recognized this. Eldad and Medad were prophesying, even though they were not part of the group around the tent. Joshua urges Moses to stop them, but Moses avoided the trap. “Are you jealous for my sake? Would that all the people of the LORD were prophets! Would that the LORD might bestow his spirit on them all!" Moses recognized that it wasn’t about him, it was about God. Why would he stand in God’s way, just to be important in the eyes of other people? Moses knew that he didn’t matter, only the word of God mattered, and the spreading of that word. In the Gospel john rushes to Jesus to inform him of a man driving out demons in the name of Jesus. Stop him, he doesn’t follow us, he’s not one of us. He’s not special, like we are. Jesus turns to John and says why stop him? If he were against us he couldn’t do these things in my name. Jesus wanted his followers to see that it wasn’t about them, about status, about being important, it’s about spreading the Good News. Spreading it every way possible. Everyone is called to spread the Good News of God. The Gospel is not something left to someone else, someone we may want to place on a pedestal, someone we want to surrender our responsibility to. We are all called to spread the Word, top spread the Good News. The Spirit that rested on Eldad and Medad, the Spirit that came to the Apostles, is the Spirit we share, the Spirit that calls us to stay off the pedestal, the Spirit that calls us to avoid putting someone else on that pedestal, the Spirit that calls us to speak, to be bearers of the Word, to spread that word to the world.

Deacon John
Twenty-sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Sept. 27, 2009

Twenty-fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time

2009-09-19T22:46:00.000-04:00

Wis 2:12, 17-20
Jas 3:16-4:3
Mk 9:30-37
Everybody had it figured out. The earth was the center of the universe, the moon, the sun, the planets, all revolved around the earth. I mean, it seems so obvious, all you have to do is look up. We’re not moving, everything else is. But, in 1530, a guy named Copernicus figured it out figured out that we had it all wrong. The earth isn’t the center of the universe, the sun is. The earth spins on its axis as it goes around the sun. By the early seventeenth century Galileo, using the telescope confirmed the theories of Copernicus. What a let down. The earth isn’t the center of the universe. We aren’t the center of the universe. Humans aren’t the center of everything. We seem to have an easier time accepting the Copernican world view, the planetary system of the sun at the center, than accepting the idea that we human beings are not the center of the universe, that each of us individually is not the center of the universe. Our failure to grasp that we are not the center of our own personal universe leads to a myriad of problems. We place ourselves at the center, and expect everything to revolve around us, and this leads to conflict. After all everyone else seems to believe that they are at the center of the universe. We can’t all be there, now can we? No wonder James says “Is it not from your passions that make war within your members? You covet but do not possess. You kill and envy but you cannot obtain.” We all seek to be first, to be on top, to get what we want, no matter the consequence. Christ tells us to give up our desire to be at the center. We are servants. We fail to realize that we revolve around the Son.
Deacon John
Twenty-fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Sept. 20, 2009

Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross

2009-09-15T05:40:00.002-04:00

Nm 21:4b-9
Phil 2:6-11
Jn 3:13-17

Christ was lifted up, but not in the way he should have been. Christ was lifted up and emptied himself completely, his life poured out that we might look up, gaze upon him, and live. Christ poured himself out, an act of kenotic love, a total emptying of self for others, for us. The perfect example of the call that each of us has received, the perfect sign of God’s vast love for us. Wee are called to this same kenotic love, this total emptying of self, for God, for the people of God. I especially address this idea of kenotic love this day to my brothers in diaconal ministry. Christ as servant is, and should be our ideal. We are called to this same kenotic love, to be the example before others of this great self-emptying. Not an easy task, I know. But we have before us the perfect example to follow. All we must do is look up, look up and gaze upon the one lifted up for us, for when we look up, we live.

Deacon John
Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross
Sept. 14, 2009

Twenty-fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time

2009-09-13T21:51:00.001-04:00

Is 50:5-9a
Jas 2:14-18
Mk 8:27-35
In these times I count myself fortunate to have a job. I am in fact more fortunate that many in that I have a job that I love. I’ve had jobs I hated, but did them because, well because I had to in order to survive. This job, the job I have now, I truly love. I do, however, have to do a bit more than just love my job. I cannot simply sit around saying I love my job, I have to actually do my job, else I won’t have it to love for long. I can’t just say I love my job, there is action required on my part. So it is with our faith. We cannot simply say I believe, and then do nothing. To say I believe, then do nothing about that belief, is an empty gesture. Faith requires action. By our Baptism we are called to action. We are called to act, to live our faith. By our Baptism we are called to live an active faith life, indeed we are obligated to be active in our faith. Jesus called upon his followers to take up their cross and follow me. That is a call to act, to do something. We cannot be passive and take up our crosses. We are called to serve those around us in whatever way we can. Whether that service takes the form of physical labor on the part of the people of God, or the act of prayer, if that is all you are able to do, we must act. Will my good works, my actions on behalf of my faith save me, will they get me into heaven? No, of course not, we cannot earn salvation. We cannot simply be bystanders, mouthing belief, but doing nothing. As the author of James states, “So also faith of itself,
if it does not have works, is dead. Indeed someone might say, “You have faith and I have works.”
Demonstrate your faith to me without works, and I will demonstrate my faith to you from my works.”
Baptism, belief in Christ is a call to action, a call to have faith, and then to live that faith in how we serve others.
Deacon John
Twenty-fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Sept. 13, 2009

Twenty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time

2009-09-06T14:42:00.001-04:00

Is 35:4-7a
Jas 2:1-5
Mk 7:31-37

Deafness. Try to imagine what it is like to not be able to hear. Think of all the things you take for granted that you would miss, the sound of birds, the patter of rain on the roof, music. Things most of us never give a second thought would not be a routine part of life. I am not deaf, but my parents are. I have been around the deaf all my life. Imagine the sense of exclusion you would feel. Left out of conversations, struggling to understand what people around you are talking about. I remember my father referring to lip-reading as lip guessing, and he did well in communicating with the hearing. Making yourself understood can be frustrating. Jesus opened the ears of the deaf man, making it possible for him to understand what was happening around him. Jesus also gave him a voice, the ability to speak about what was happening around him. My brothers and sisters I propose to you that all of us are quite deaf, that all of us are quite mute. We are spiritually deaf, and, without the help of God, we are unable to hear God’s word. Since we can’t hear it, how can we speak of it? Jesus comes and opens our ears so we may hear and understand the word of God. Jesus makes it possible for us to hear the words of love, compassion and caring that God wants us to communicate to the world. Even more, once we hear the word of God, we hear another sound, the sound of the suffering around us. We hear the cry of the poor, the call of the homeless, the crying of the child in need. Indeed, once we hear, truly hear the Word, we cannot close out these other sounds. We are compelled by our faith to speak, to use the voice we have been given to speak out about the plight of those in need. We hear, and we must speak, we must act, we must do what we can to help quiet those cries Our faith demands nothing less.
Deacon John
The Twenty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time
Sept. 6, 2009

Twenty-second Sunday in Ordinary Time

2009-08-30T18:26:00.001-04:00

Dt 4:1-2, 6-8
Jas 1:17-18, 21b-22, 27
Mk 7:1-8, 14-15, 21-23
"We have met the enemy... and he is us"
Pogo
Tradition is a wonderful thing. Tradition provides continuity, a way of passing truths and practices down through the generations. Laws are also good things, they provide order and stability. Both tradition and law are good and important things, right up until the time we become enslaved to them. Then we have to re-examine what may be an unhealthy relationship between us as believers in Christ and the traditions and laws we follow. In today’s Gospel the Pharisees excoriate the followers of Jesus for failing to observe the tradition of the elders. They ate a meal without washing their hands. Now, hand washing is not a bad thing, it is indeed a good, common sense practice. The problem is when does hand washing go from a way of honoring God to a practice more important than God? The Gospel writer goes on to list other ways that the Jews practiced these traditions, various ritual cleansings of self and objects. Again, there is nothing wrong with them; indeed they are good sanitary practices. Yet these practices can be come so ritualized, so common, their original purpose, honoring God, is forgotten. Jesus turns on the Pharisees, letting them know that their rituals are empty when they fail to keep the meaning of the ritual in their hearts. They are merely lip service, meaningless gestures. The object you use may be clean, but is the intent with which you use it clean? Using a clean cup, or eating with clean hands does not make you clean within.
We can’t look at the Pharisees too haughtily, because we encounter the same difficulty. When do we become slaves to tradition, to ritual, making them empty and meaningless gestures? Does it really matter to God if I say the prayer at 11:01 and not 10:59? Does it really matter to God if my prayer is in English or Spanish or Greek or Latin or Sanskrit? When I read Scripture am I reading the words, or reading the Word? We are in danger of worshiping not God, but the tradition. We are in danger of worshipping not God, but the institution. The Scripture, the prayers, the traditions are a way to God, the Church is a way to God, they are not God. We can be so enamored of Scripture that we are worshipping the words, not the Word. We become our own worst enemy. Conversion of the heart comes from the grace of God working within. The traditions and laws can enhance that action of grace, they cannot replace it. Tradition is a wonderful thing. Tradition provides continuity, a way of passing truths and practices down through the generations. Laws are also good things, they provide order and stability. Good things when we use them to use them to lead us to God, not to replace God.

Deacon John
Twenty-second Sunday in Ordinary Time
Aug. 30, 2009

Twenty-first Sunday in Ordinary Time

2009-08-23T00:54:00.001-04:00

Jos 24:1-2a, 15-17, 18b
Eph 5:21-32 or 5:2a, 25-32
Jn 6:60-69
Simon Peter answered him, “Master, to whom shall we go?
You have the words of eternal life.
The Christ had frightened them. He spoke words that were hard to hear, even harder to understand. Many could not, would not accept what Christ had spoken to them. Many turned and walked away. Many abandoned Christ, unable to accept that Christ is indeed the bread come down from heaven, that Christ is the bread of life, that Christ is life. Jesus turns to those closest to him, to that core group of followers and asks them if they too will leave. Simon Peter replies for the group, “Master, to whom shall we go?” To whom shall we go? It’s confusing out there. Things change, often at a pace we can’t keep up with. Changes come that may or may not be to our liking. Changes come that turn our worlds upside down. Things that we believed stable, unchanging, change. Confusing, frightening, anger-inducing, all of this and much more. Even things in our Church change. Change isn’t necessarily bad, after all change is a sign of life. Yet the words can be hard to hear, the change can be hard to make. Through all the changes in our lives, in our homes in our jobs in our Church there is one constant. There remains one unchanging truth. We have been given the words of eternal life. We have been given the Word, the Word that comes to us as we hear it proclaimed, the Word that come to us as we eat the bread of life. Through all the changes, changes that for us may be good, bad or indifferent one thing remains the same. One thing gives us hope, gives us a home, gives us life beyond all measure. When the changes you face start to become overwhelming keep in mind the words of Simon Peter, “Master, to whom shall we go?
You have the words of eternal life.
Deacon John
The Twenty-first Sunday in Ordinary Time
Aug. 23, 2009

2009-08-16T21:52:00.000-04:00

Prv 9:1-6
Eph 5:15-20
Jn 6:51-58

Bread. An ordinary, simple part of daily life. It can take a few different forms. In my part of the world it can be a biscuit for breakfast, a roll with dinner, or slices of bread for a sandwich at lunch. How many times a day do we eat bread and how often do we really think about it? Maybe when we run out of it. It’s just there, ordinary, simple, a ubiquitous part of life. When Christ chose a way to be with us, to remain with us, why not choose bread? Christ chose bread as the way to stay with us because it is such an important, yet ordinary part of life. Christ didn’t have to explain the importance of bread to people. Yet he took this simple, ordinary item and raised it to sacredness.
“I am the living bread that came down from heaven; whoever eats this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give is my flesh for the life of the world.”
Christ becomes our bread, becomes the staple of life that we need more than we realize. The ordinary, the simple, becomes Christ, becomes sacred, becomes a way for us to encounter the sacred. We gather at the Eucharistic celebration and we eat the sacred bread that is no longer bread. We take Christ into ourselves, and we who are ordinary, we who are simple, are elevated. We take God within us and we are lifted to the sacred, we become more than what we were, we become one, truly one in Christ. We leave, carrying that oneness with us, to invite the world to join with us, with us as one in Christ.

Deacon John
Twentieth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Aug. 16, 2009

Feast of St. Lawrence

2009-08-11T19:59:00.001-04:00

2 Cor 9:6-10
Jn 12:24-26
You reap what you sow. An old cliché perhaps, but clichés are clichés for a reason. Often there is truth behind the words of a cliché. How we choose to live our lives, what we choose to give away and what we choose to keep from others, can be the measure of what we receive. Do we choose to give generously of what we have, or do we jealously guard our possessions, our time? Our faith calls us to be generous, to give all we have all we are. We are called to kenosis, self-emptying, pouring out of ourselves in imitation of Christ. Christ’s giving to us was kenotic, a complete self-emptying, a self-emptying we are called to as well. No, it is not easy. Yes it can be difficult, very difficult, but the reward is beyond measure. St. Lawrence, Deacon and Martyr, shows us an example of this kenotic giving. He emptied himself completely, even giving his life. I doubt that any of us will be called to give in that same measure, but we are called. When we do give, when we attempt this kenosis, we will find what seems to be a contradiction, it is in the self-emptying that we become full. In giving we gain more than we were.

Deacon John
Feast of St. Lawrence, Deacon and Martyr
Aug. 10, 2009

Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

2009-08-11T19:57:00.000-04:00

1 Kgs 19:4-8
Eph 4:30—5:2
Jn 6:41-51

“Get up and eat, else the journey will be too long for you!”
Life is tough. Let’s face it. I don’t care who you are, what you have or don’t have, what you believe or don’t believe, life is tough. All of us will face difficulty, no one escapes problems. For some the difficulties of life are merely a burden to be borne. For others life’s hardships can be overwhelming. We face these hard times and feel alone, adrift in a world that cares nothing for you, a place where your problems are just one more set of difficulties that are everywhere. It is far too easy to become despondent and give up. The journey through life requires strength, strength that on our own we do not have. That strength is available to us, available in the bread come down from heaven, the bread of life that can sustain us on this difficult journey. Christ feeds us, gives us strength, strength in Christ’s presence in the word we hear, strength in Christ’s presence in the bread and wine we share. The strength we need is there, available to us, if we simply get up and partake of it. We must choose to accept the life giving strength that is granted to us, we must get up and eat.
“Get up and eat, else the journey will be too long for you!”

Deacon John
Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Aug. 9, 2009

Feast of the Transfiguration of the Lord

2009-08-06T22:44:00.003-04:00

Dn 7:9-10, 13-14
2 Pt 1:16-19
Mk 9:2-10
About 25 years ago there was a documentary series on television called The Day the Universe Changed. Science historian James Burke would take an event in history, an event that seemingly was somewhat innocuous, and show how that event or idea or discovery changed the way we see the universe. These events were transformational events, because we were never the same after they occurred. They did indeed change the universe. These transformational events aren’t just great historic things, they also occur in our own lives. The day you become a parent, the world changes, you change. You will never see the universe the same way again. You have been transformed forever.
Jesus takes Peter James and John to the mountaintop. They have no idea why they are there, but for them the universe is about to change. Before their eyes Jesus changes, he is transfigured, he becomes so bright they can’t even look at him. They fall to the ground in terror. Then Moses and Elijah appear and speak to the transfigured Christ. Peter, James and John are terrified, they don’t understand what is happening or what they are seeing. They look up and everything is back to normal. But how can they ever see Jesus the same way again? Something happened, and because of it their universe is changed. As the undoubtedly confused disciples walk away with Jesus he tells them to keep this to themselves, tell no one until the Son of Man has risen from the dead. What does that mean? Only later, after witnessing the events of the Passion, death and resurrection of Christ do they realize what they saw. Only later do they realize they have been witness to the glory of God. Like the events described by James Burke, only later did they realize the universe-altering event they witnessed. We have the opportunity to participate in this universe-altering event. Through the Sacraments, through particularly the Eucharist, we have the opportunity to see the glory of God. We have the chance to share in that glory. We can be transformed. When we receive Christ, how can we ever be the same again? We are changed. When we receive Christ, when we accept Christ, the universe is changed.

Deacon John
The Feast of the Transfiguration of the Lord
Aug. 6, 2009

Eighteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

2009-08-02T18:30:00.002-04:00

Ex 16:2-4, 12-15
Eph 4:17, 20-24
Jn 6:24-35
“This is the work of God, that you believe in the one he sent.”
What does it mean to believe in the one God sent? Is it a simple act of affirmation, or is there more involved? Belief in the one sent by God is more than affirmation, it is immersion, immersion into the person of Christ. When one enters a profession it is not simply a matter of saying I’m a doctor or a lawyer or a plumber or an electrician. To be one of those requires immersion into the subject, study, practice, and the realization that you will never know everything there is to know about your field. You have to keep up with the advances in your chosen field, continually learning and re-learning, consulting books and others in your field so that you can continue to do the work you have chosen and to do it well.
So it is when we choose to do the work of God. We declare our belief, we affirm that we are followers of Jesus Christ, but we cannot stop there. We must keep up, we must immerse ourselves into the subject, into the body of Christ. We gather on this day and we hear the word of God. We take in that word, seeking to make it a part of us, applying that word to our lives. We then consume the bread become the Body of Christ, we consume the wine become Christ’s blood. We take in that Word, and in that taking in of the Body, we become what we receive. We receive the Body of Christ and become the Body of Christ. We are immersed in Christ as we act on our belief that Christ is indeed the one sent by God. We are immersed in Christ as we prepare to do the work of God.
“This is the work of God, that you believe in the one he sent.”

Deacon John
Eighteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Aug. 2, 2009

Seventeenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

2009-07-27T22:06:00.001-04:00

2 Kgs 4:42-44
Eph 4:1-6
Jn 6:1-15

Gift-giving. It can be a source of great frustration. We search for the right gift, wanting everything to be perfect. We worry, especially when the gift is intended for someone we love, if the gift is good enough. Is our gift worthy of the one we are giving it to? We want it to be enough, more than enough, we want our gift to be perfect, not just adequate, but perfect. We want it to be, but of course it is not. So we worry. We really have nothing to worry about though. When we give a gift out of love, to someone we love, when we give a gift out of love to someone who loves us, that gift is not just adequate, it is enough, much more than enough.
A large crowd followed Jesus across the Sea of Galilee. They followed because of the signs he was performing on the sick. They followed, and showed no signs of leaving. They needed food, so Jesus turns to his followers and asks, where can we buy food for them. Buy food for them, there were thousands, of people. It would be impossible to get enough food anywhere to feed them. The followers of Jesus had no idea of where they should turn when a young boy steps forward carrying his gift. Five loaves and two fish, five loaves and two fish to feed all of those people. A gift that appeared to be hopelessly inadequate. Five loaves and two fish would not feed a dozen people, much less thousands. Yet he offered his gift in love, to someone he loved, to someone who loved him, and all were fed, with baskets full of leftovers.
Each of us has a gift, large or small, it does not matter. Each of us has a gift to offer, a gift we can offer in love. We offer our gift to one we love, we offer our gift to the one who loves us beyond all measure, and that gift is more than adequate, it is more than enough, it is made abundant.

Deacon John
Seventeenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
July 26, 2008

Sixteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

2009-07-19T17:43:00.001-04:00

Jer 23:1-6
Eph 2:13-18
Mk 6:30-34
Lost, they were lost and searching for…something. They weren’t even sure what they were seeking. They only knew something was missing, there was an empty space that nothing could fill, until they heard his voice, until they heard his words. They knew they had found what was missing, they had found what they were searching for. Jesus was taking his apostles to a place to rest after their labors, away from the crowds, a quiet retreat. The people, however, desperate to hear him, to learn from him, to be with him, found out where he was going and rushed to get there ahead of him. So when Jesus and the apostles arrived the throng was waiting for them. Jesus saw them and knew they needed him, they needed to hear him, to learn from him, just to be with him. He was moved and began to teach them. Too often we are lost, searching, looking for something, looking for meaning, looking for truth. We wander about but never seem to find it. Many people my age wandered off seeking truth and meaning in other faiths, in astrology or Eastern mysticism. Some looked for truth in drugs. They looked but never found it. They searched and discovered their search led them back, back to the place they started from, back to Christ. Back to the Christ who waits for us, who longs to teach us, to give us meaning, to be with us. We know where Christ is. Let us hasten there for Christ waits to teach us many things.

Deacon John
Sixteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
July 19, 2009

The Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

2009-07-04T12:47:00.000-04:00

Ez 2:2-5
2 Cor 12:7-10
Mk 6:1-6

Who do you think you are? Just exactly who do you think you are? Where do you get off, do you really think you’re that much better than we are? I know you, I know you family. You’re father is just a carpenter. You’re nobody special, why should we listen to you? You come in here all high and mighty, let us knock you down a peg or two. That can sum up the reaction Jesus received in Nazareth when he went back there to teach, to preach. The reaction of the people seems on the surface to be mean spirited. It is a reaction we have all seen before, a reaction to someone who has separated themselves in some way from the larger group. We react badly, at times, seeming to want no one to do more, or be more. We act as though their change in some way diminishes us. I think, though that this reaction isn’t necessarily mean or vengeful or envious. I think the reaction is fear. We are afraid of what one person’s growth or change means for us. If that person is really no different than we are, no better than we are, that means we can change and grow as well. We can step out of the larger group, and we are afraid. If those people of Nazareth had asked Jesus I’m sure he would have told them that, indeed, he was one of them, and they could, if they would, follow and be like him. But they were afraid, afraid of what change might mean, afraid that if we change we stop being who we are, or at least who we think we are. If we change we may stop being ourselves. It is the same fear we have, the same fear that moves us to try and drag down someone who has dared to separate themselves, someone who dares to be different, someone who unhesitatingly and without fear attempts to openly follow Christ. We want them to stop, we want them back, we want them to be who they were, we want them to stop challenging us to change. We are afraid, afraid of losing who we are, afraid to change, afraid we will stop being ourselves. If we would only realize that by embracing Christ, we don’t stop being ourselves, we become more ourselves than we realized was possible. The change we are called to makes who we should be, who, if we are honest with ourselves, we really want to be. We can change, if we simply embrace the gift of faith that is ours. Faith can relieve or fears, faith can make the change possible. Will we be perfect? No, we will fall. Will we stop being afraid? Some of the time, and with practice more and more of the time. We can be ourselves, our true selves, only with faith. We need not fear, yet I’m afraid that Jesus is still amazed at our lack of faith.
Deacon John
The Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
July 5, 2009

Thirteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

2009-06-27T15:15:00.001-04:00

Wis 1:13-15; 2:23-24
2 Cor 8:7, 9, 13-15
Mk 5:21-43 or 5:21-24, 35b-43
Life and death that is what is facing us today. Life and death and the choice we make, and the choice God has made. In today’s Gospel Jesus encounters two women who are dead. You may argue that the one was not really a woman, but a child. Perhaps, but in her time she would have been close to marriage age, so she is a woman. The other you may somewhat justifiably argue isn’t dead at all. She may be ill, but she is alive. Yet her illness, her disease, makes her an outcast, untouchable, unfit to live in society. So, she is for all intents and purposes dead her society. In the appearance of Jesus she is faced with a choice, life or death. She summons up her courage and reaches for Jesus hem, reaches for life. She reaches for life because she has faith, faith that Jesus, that God, will give her a new life. Her hope is not dashed; she does get the new life she reached for, because of her faith. A man comes to Jesus, asking him to save his seriously ill daughter. As he is leading Jesus to his home people arrive to tell him it is too late, she has died. Jesus turns to the man and says do not be afraid, have faith. They continue to the place where the younger of our women lay, apparently dead. Yet Jesus turns the mourners away, saying she merely sleeps. They laugh at him, they know death when they see it. Yet for Jesus no situation is hopeless. Faith again triumphs over death. Jesus takes her hand, commands her to rise, and she does. Faith, faith stronger than fear, stronger than death, brings life. God chooses life for us, not death. In our first reading we hear, “God did not make death, nor does he rejoice in the destruction of the living. For he fashioned all things that they might have being;” and “For God formed man to be imperishable; the image of his own nature he made him.” God wants life for us, yet we so often choose not to grasp that life that is ours to take. We turn away, either out of fear, or not believing that our faith is enough. We are simply too evil for God to forgive us, to give us a second chance, for God to give us life again. We are so, so wrong. God does not give second chances, God give third and fourth and fifth chances. God give us all the chances we need to accept the gift of life being offered us. Nothing, nothing we can do separates us from the love of God. Fear is what separates us, fear that we simply don’t have enough faith. Any faith is enough faith, God is not measuring quantity. Faith and trust and hope in a new life, they are not things to fear. Jesus told the synagogue official, do not be afraid. The woman who was ill overcame her fear. Each was given a precious gift, life, new life in Christ. Do not be afraid, reach out, touch the hem, seize the life that God wants you to have.
Deacon John
Thirteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
June 28, 2009

Twelfth Sunday in Ordinary Time

2009-06-21T20:04:00.001-04:00

Jb 38:1, 8-11
2 Cor 5:14-17
Mk 4:35-41

It has been a somewhat stormy year, at least in my part of the world. Ice and snow storms in the winter, wind and thunderstorms in the spring. These storms have caused a lot of trouble, loss of electrical power, damage to homes, often caused by trees that could not weather the storm. When you’ve faced a lot of storms, you tend to go one of two ways. Either you just get plain sick of them, and become leery every time the weather seems to be turning bad, or you become afraid of them, fearful that the next storm is the one that will destroy you and everything you have worked for. In the Gospel today the followers of Jesus are facing a storm at sea. As the storm grows in intensity, they grow more and more frightened. Jesus, for his part, is so calm, so unperturbed, that he is sleeping in the stern of the boat. They finally become so frightened, so certain that they are about to die, they wake Jesus up and ask him if he cares that they are about to die. Jesus, without fanfare, stops the storm, then looks at his disciples and asks, why are you afraid, do you not yet have faith? His disciples then ask each other, who is this that commands the wind and sky? He is the One who told Job I set the limits for the sea and fastened the bar of its door. He is the One who made them, made us, who set the limits of nature, who wrote the laws that govern the universe. He is the one who loves and cares for us. We live in a stormy time. We face a seemingly never ending war, an economy that is sinking like a rock, the prospect of losing one’s job, or being wiped out by market crashes or catastrophic illness. It is an uneasy time, filled with storms. It is very easy to be frightened. It seems that it only makes sense to be frightened. We can, however, survive these storms. We must strive to live a life that has the one thing the followers in the Gospel seemed to lack, faith. No, having faith will not automatically make everything better. You can have faith and still lose your job. You can have faith and still get wiped out. It would be fair of you to ask, so what will faith do for me? Faith can help you through the storms. Faith can help you face the storm, despite your fear. Faith is the one calm place in a world of storms. Faith won’t solve your problems, faith will help you face them. You are not facing the storm alone. The One who calmed the seas, the One who set its limits wants only to help you face these storms unafraid.

Deacon John
Twelfth Sunday In Ordinary Time
June 21, 2009

The Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ

2009-06-14T21:19:00.001-04:00

Ex 24:3-8
Heb 9:11-15
Mk 14:12-16, 22-26

Blood, lifeblood, it circulates through the body, giving life. Arteries take the life giving fluid from the heart through the body, veins bring the blood back to be renewed. Take the blood form the body and the body dies. Blood is essential to life. It is not surprising then that blood is used to seal covenants. The people of Israel gathered together to be sealed in their covenant by blood, the blood of bulls.
We gather together, brought to this place, this heart, to be renewed, renewed by the blood that is far greater than the blood of bulls, to be renewed by the body that is so much more than the ashes of heifers. We come together in this place to be made one in the body and blood that is greater than time, or place or bureaucracies or hierarchies. We come together to celebrate the covenant sealed in the blood of Christ, the blood that renews us, the blood that gives us life, the blood that is life, so that we may pour out into the arteries carrying that life to the world.
Deacon John
The Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ
June 14, 2009

Back at Last

2009-06-07T17:20:00.002-04:00

I've been missing in action for a few weeks. Those who follow my cancer blog, Me and Poindexter,know that I have had a relapse of my cancer, Multiple Myeloma. Traetment, almost always worse than the disease, has had me down for a bit, but I am now regaining strength, and finally able to write again. Hopefully I can continue every week for a while anyway. Thanks for your prayers.
Deacon John
The Solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity
June 7, 2009