Nobody Likes a Know-it-All

 Nobody likes a know-it-all!  As a teacher, I have found the most effective methods are those in which it is clear you are learning with the students.  Jesus did not tell his disciples everything all at once.  While God is fully revealed in the person of Jesus, learning about Jesus is a process.  The disciples, who had the great gift of walking with him, only came to know him over time.  Even then, they seemed to often have failed miserably.

They certainly didn’t want to know the Jesus that would have to suffer and be crucified.  They were looking for the Jesus that was great at performing great healings and driving out demons.  They wanted the Jesus who could dazzle people with his preaching.  They even wanted the Jesus that would turn over the table of the money changers, that was ready to shake things up, but they wanted to avoid at all costs the Jesus who would have to suffer, that had to bear the beams of the cross.

Jesus, as the suffering servant, would be revealed over time and then in stark reality on the cross.  In a sense the learning about him was something they had to experience.  So often today, we feel, particularly as evangelizers in today’s world, that we have to go around correcting people and jamming our self-righteousness down their throats.  We think we know it all.  And yet, perhaps we forget that we are still very much learning.  We love to point out the splinter in the eye of someone else, and yet we fail to see the huge beam in our own.

Those of us who have experienced splinters know they can hurt.  I remember having one as a child.  A small piece of wood got in my eye, blown there by the wind.  Sometimes the littlest things cause the most pain and difficulty.  That splinter, however small, can impede our sight.  So imagine the effect of a beam in our eye, and yet often, the beams of our lives go unnoticed or go ignored.  Perhaps there is just so much effort  to remove what really hurts us, that we just rather ignore it.

The beams of life develop over time.  Those things that block us from seeing the needs of others often come from a life of being harmed by ourselves.  The pain causes us to sin.  We don’t want to face the sin.  We don’t want to face the things that cause us to sin, and so we divert our attention to someone else’s faults, no matter how little.  We feel we can go on ignoring the beam while we point out the splinter in the other person.  And that makes us seem like a know-it-all.  

The disciples came to know Jesus, not by having him lecture them, but by their own realization that they needed a savior.  They rejected that idea at first, but they had to come to realize that the beams in their eyes would need to be removed by a savior.  It is easy to ignore the need for a savior, by exaggerating the petty problems of others.  Nobody likes a know-it-all.  All we need to know is that we need a savior.

- The Servant

 

Fifth Sunday of Lent

John 12:20-33

 

“And when I am lifted up from the earth, I will draw everyone to myself.”  John12: 32

 

          In 2004 Josh Groban helped make famous a beautiful song entitled “You Raise Me Up.”  It is a song that speaks to our faith.  It reminds us of God’s transformative power to transcend our human weaknesses and have the strength to become true agents of God’s love for His people.

          I remember the first time I heard this song.  Quite honestly, my first thoughts were not of God, but of my own father as I heard the words, “I am strong, when I am on your shoulders.”   I immediately and spontaneously  (and tearfully) had the image of myself as a toddler riding on Daddy’s shoulders, feeling so delighted – and so loved.  And, of course, that memory just led me to appreciate the remaining lyrics as a reminder of the more important ways that my father lifted me up.  In the scant 20 years I had him in my life (he died young) he taught me all I needed to know to become a man.  He truly raised me up  “…to be more than I can be.”  More than anything my dad taught me to always trust in God in every situation, and to always do the right thing no matter the cost.  His love for me came with sacrifice, of course.  The usual sacrifices of a man for his family, but more.  Sacrifices he had made in his life based on his faith and convictions.  He was exempt from military service during World War II, but went anyway.  And paid the price.  He was a strong believer in unions to protect the rights of workers, yet sided with management when a corrupt mob-run union tried to take over his shop. And paid the price.   He epitomized Jesus’ words, “… unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains just a grain of wheat; but it it dies, it produces much fruit.”

          It's all about sacrifice.  It’s all about dying and rising.  It’s all about resurrection.  To bring God’s heavenly Kingdom to the here and now.  That is what Jesus teaches us.  Throughout his earthly life Jesus constantly sacrificed for others.  Ultimately, he was lifted up on the cross at his crucifixion.  He was then lifted up to new life at His Resurrection.  The Father lifted Him up … to be more than He could be.  And God did this for us.  To lift US up and make US more than we could be.

          And today, as this gospel passage once again calls to my mind the words of Groban’s song, I cannot  help but think of another “Father.”    I speak of a great priest and a great man, Father Frank Gaeta.  Fr. Frank passed away two Sundays ago.  I think, perhaps, that it was a divine coincidence that Fr. Fank went home to the Lord on a Sunday – the day we gather to worship and commemorate that Sunday so long ago when Jesus was lifted up in resurrection by His Father. I came to know Fr. Frank when he became pastor at St. Brigid’s back in 1989 and there is not a person who knew him that I speak with who doesn’t recall how deeply Fr. Frank inspired them and made them who they are today.  Whether it’s a person who was brought back to the faith because of him; the person who converted because of him; the person who felt called to ministry, because of him; the priest who says, “He taught me how to be a priest.”   And there is hardly a person who knew him that hasn’t said at least once after hearing one of his homilies, “I felt as if he was speaking directly to me.”  And as he touched each one of our hearts individually, he built community.  A community that supported all its members in every way – in prayer and worship and love for our God; in helping each other when one or the other was going through a difficult time; in feeding the hungry, welcoming the stranger and reaching out to the lost sheep.  He raised us up … to be more than we can be.

          And this did not come without sacrifice. He made the sacrifices that a priest is called to make but went above and beyond in time, energy, personal well being – no matter what the cost.  No matter what the price.  For sure, he never became famous; he never gained the prominence of, let’s say, becoming a bishop or a Cardinal. He never entered a church carrying a crozier – the crook that represents a bishop as shepherd of his flock – but no bishop I have ever known has been more of a shepherd to his flock than Fr. Frank. 

          Now, I know that this reflection may seem a bit too personal.  No one reading this knew my father; many did not know Fr. Frank.  Yet, I offer these remembrances in the hope that it will prompt the reader to think of those people in his or her life who lifted them up to be more than then they could be.  Just as the grain of wheat would only remain a grain of wheat, the words of this gospel would remain only words, but for those people in our lives who made sacrifices for us so that these words would have life.  Remember them.  Thank God for them.  Pray to them.

          And now it is up to us. Will we remain just a grain of wheat, or will we “die” and bear fruit, and lift up our brothers and sisters, in His name … to be more than they can be?

 

         “Call me Ishamel”

 

 

Timeless Love

In this week’s Gospel, Luke 6:17, 20-26, Jesus speaks to His disciples and a large group of people. He begins with a series of blessings. With each blessing, He illustrates how the world’s view of life differs from the heavenly view.

He begins with, “Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God.” It’s safe to say that poverty is one of the last things we associate with blessings. Yet, the kingdom of heaven is for the poor.

He continues with, “Blessed are you who hunger now, for you shall be filled. Blessed are you who weep now, for you shall laugh.” Once again, the hungry and sad are among the blessed—another departure from what we typically consider a blessing.

Then Jesus says, “Blessed are you when people hate you, when they exclude you, insult you, and reject your name as evil because of the Son of Man.” None of this sounds like something a blessed person should endure. Still, the hated and excluded are counted among the blessed.

Today’s Gospel calls us to do one thing: reject the world’s way of thinking. What we desire in this world is often the exact opposite of what God desires for us. The upside is truly down. To be poor, hungry, sad, and ridiculed for God’s sake are all considered “negative,” “unpleasant,” and, in most cases, evidence of “failing” at life. Yet, I believe Jesus is saying that with wealth or worldly riches comes the danger of creating a space between you and the Lord. That space is often filled with a love of money or other earthly distractions. Nothing should come between you and the Lord.

The same rule applies to anything the world views as a blessing: fame, physical beauty, success, and popularity. None of these things are more important than your relationship with the Lord.

I don’t think we are being called to a life of poverty and sadness. Instead, I believe Jesus is teaching us that seeking riches before you seek a relationship with the Lord will not get you far. Seeking success before you have a successful relationship with the Lord is a trap. Seeking fame before you make the Lord famous in your heart is not the way. We are being called to shift our priorities and perspectives. What really matters in this life is not what the world says, but what the Lord says. The way to true happiness is not by chasing it on earth but by accepting the Lord. True wealth does not come from worshipping your bank account or profits. It comes from worshipping the Lord and living according to His Word.

Ask yourself: Have I allowed the world to dictate what I consider valuable? Has the world influenced my thinking so much that I’ve lost sight of what really matters?

Remember, when we align our priorities with God’s will, we not only find true peace and joy but also store up treasures in heaven that far surpass anything the world can offer. Let today’s Gospel remind us to focus on what lasts eternally, not what fades with time.

One More Time

 I wrote about this exact reading, Luke 5:1-11, five years ago.  I was going to modify it for today, but it is as relevant now, indeed more so.  These are the kind of times where we can get depressed.  Try not to.  I have slipped into it, but try to keep your chin up.  Like my mother says, it will all be ok in the end; if it's not ok, it's not the end.

This week’s Gospel reading is from Luke.  It’s the story of Jesus telling the fisherman Simon Peter to “put out into deep water” and once again cast his nets for fish.  This was even though Simon Peter and his crew had experienced a really bad day fishing and the men were already washing their nets and putting them away.  Of course, when Simon Peter listens to Jesus and heads out a little deeper to throw out his nets one more time, the nets become so full of fish that the boat nearly sinks.  Simon becomes ashamed of having doubted Jesus’ instructions, so much so that he asks Jesus to leave him.  But Jesus tells Simon not to worry, and that from that point forward Simon and his friends will be catching men.  Bigger and better game than they had originally hoped for, in other words.

I love this story, because I feel like I have gone through this.  There have been times in my life when I’ve been packing it in, so to speak, “washing my nets” and telling myself that there is no hope.  And sometimes when I have gotten to that point, I’ve received what I feel is divine encouragement to keep on going and see what can be made out of what has gone wrong.

I think that the worst thing that can happen to us is to give up hope.  That’s a lack of faith that I’ve been guilty of many, many times.  But when I take a step back, I can see that God is always there.  This doesn’t mean that bad things haven’t happened in my life, or even that I have felt that things “worked out in the end”.  That’s not the case.  Some things are just bad results.  Sometimes people die too young.  Sometimes relationships break and are never mended.  Sometimes people lose their job and don’t get a better one.  Life is rarely if ever a Hallmark movie.  But I do believe, and it is my experience, that God works all things for good, even bad things.  Most often, seeing that that is true is difficult.  And it requires a lot of perspective, and very often a lot of time. 

But if you’re putting your nets away, thinking the day is done, the game is lost, and no fish can be caught, please stop for a moment.  Please consider listening to God’s encouragement to take one more step and see if a good thing can come from a bad one.  Please consider throwing out your net again.  God will be on your side, I promise.