St. Joseph Church Homilies

Although we all long for good news, for whatever reason it’s often bad news that captures attention. The media takes advantage of this characteristic as they plan their programming: when the CBC issues some breaking news, it’s pretty much a guarantee the news won’t cause dancing in the streets.

For the next few weeks, we’re reflecting on good news and that’s something we can all use more of. Our faith centres on the life of Jesus as told to us through four books found in the Bible that we call ‘Gospels’, a word for the Greeks meaning, ‘Good News’. We’re going to explore how this good news is truly new and good, how it has changed everything, how it’s best appreciated and how it expands over time.

Last week, we recognized that when news on television or in the papers presents more of the same stories that often bring us down or inspire only fears, the Gospels reveal to us true news, capital ‘N’ news; they’re truly unique because they’re about God present and working among his people.

I was going to reflect this week on how the Good News is truly Good, but have changed my mind. Instead, we’ll reflect on how the Good News is truly trustworthy and this is important because sometimes we have questions. When prayers seem to go unanswered, when things we know to be wrong and contrary to God’s will seem to endure, faith is challenged and God’s trustworthiness comes into question.

It’s easy to identify with the poor widow from today’s Gospel who begged for justice but received none. It’s seen in child who has to go to bed early, when a hard working person toils for little, when innocent have to flee their homes.

Why the unjust judge won’t grant justice: no fear of God, no respect for others. These are root causes of injustice. Without respect for God, there’s no desire to walk in his ways, the line between right and wrong loses clarity. Without respect for others, people become objects to be used, not loved. The woman had many things going against her in this case; she had nothing to offer the judge. We see this happen often in the world. Homelessness, Children stuck in foster care systems.

All the widow wished for was a pronouncement. The unjust judge wasn’t expected to go and fix all her problems. She only wished him to say some words.

Then comes Jesus whos justice isn’t just a pronouncement, but the ultimate action. Surest sign of what happens when the injustice of this world clashes with the mercy of God.

God is trustworthy because of the uniqueness of his mercy, the offering of his self.

What about when delays happen? Temptation is to stop praying, this parable teaches that there is no reason to stop praying. Even those in heaven pray. Jesus poses this question at the end of the parable, “When the Son of Man comes, will He find faith on the earth?” The demonstration of that faith is persistent prayer. When you stop believing a prayer will be answered, you stop praying. You have given up hope and faith.

While He may delay, His answer does come. Example of people wandering the wilderness.

Threefold challenge: First, we want to be a people of justice. This means fearing God (respecting the timelines of the maker) and respecting others (hoping for mercy). We also wish to be a people of faith; this means persistence.

Prayer

Truth be told, I’m not big on watching the news. To start, it’s hard to find an unbiased source for news. It seems that most have their own slants and I get suspicious when news becomes political or a tool to sell some thing or some idea. For me, it’s sometimes a challenge to know just what news to trust. On top of that, a great deal of news is bad news. When the CBC issues some breaking news, it’s pretty much a guarantee the news won’t cause dancing in the street. This week alone we heard about devastating hurricanes, North Korean missile tests, ongoing conflicts in the Ukraine, innocent children shot in Thailand and, closer to home, pedestrians killed while walking along the road.

Of course, there must be some good news. This weekend’s holiday is about giving thanks and it’s hard to give thanks if there isn’t at least some good news; and while we certainly prefer to hear good news over bad, it seems that bad news brings a stronger reaction than good news, that we’re more sensitive to bad news.

Maybe the mind works this way because bad news can still surprise. Just when we think we’ve heard it all, evil has yet another curve ball to throw and catch us off guard; or maybe our minds work this way because on hearing about all the dysfunction in the world, we feel better about ourselves, we count our blessings when hearing how our lives aren’t as bad as that of others. It’s also possible our minds work this way, that we’re more sensitive to bad news, because of a drive for self-preservation; we wish to be aware of the dangers of the world so we can protect ourselves. Regardless, bad news always grabs attention.

The funny thing though, is that no one actually want’s more bad news. At least, I’ve never met anyone who longed for bad news. But though our attention may be easily captured by bad news, what we all deeply hunger for is true good news.

For Christians, there are four books that describe the life of Jesus: Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. These four primary testimonies give four different perspectives into the life of our Lord and how he has saved us from sin. Anyway, these four books are called, “Gospels”, a word for the Greeks meaning, “good news”. Over the next few weeks, we’re going to take a deeper look at the features that make the Gospels so special for us. We’re going to explore how this good news is truly good, how it has changed everything, how it’s best appreciated, how it expands over time and how it’s trustworthy.

Now, in the Gospel reading today, we heard about a moment when Jesus encountered a group of people suffering from leprosy. Because the disease was contagious, those suffering from it had to isolate, not just for a couple of weeks, but for the remainder of their lives because there was no recovery or cure. Those who suffered from the deadly disease weren’t permitted in places of worship or in markets and were expected to warn others not to come too close.

For many, our recent experiences with mandated lockdowns during the pandemic, gave a small taste of the anxiety, isolation and fears that those ten lepers may have endured, just on a much smaller scale. I suppose that while what we experienced made the news, it wasn’t really news at all. History is filled with stories of the evil of disease and all the challenges that come along with it. Poverty, disease, death, even happiness or examples of people doing good or commendable things isn’t really news: these things happen all the time. No, real true news, news with a capital ‘N’, cannot be more of the same. Another feature of the Gospels that makes them so special for us is that they truly are news; they’re about something completely unique.

In today’s Gospel, we do hear some news: a group of lepers were miraculously healed. It had never happened before.

I was visiting one of our schools this week, helping students create some intentions for the Prayers of the Faithful for an upcoming school Mass. Considering the various things going on in the world right now, the students quickly crafted prayers for peace in the Ukraine, for those affected by recent hurricanes and for reconciliation with indigenous communities. But one student, considering next weekend’s Thanksgiving holiday, recognized that, here in Canada, we’re actually a fairly lucky group of people and have much to be thankful for. The prayers these students came up with, weren’t for themselves or their own needs and concerns, but for others who face much graver issues. Sometimes what saddens us in life here or causes us stress or anxiety isn’t always our own challenges in life but the struggles of others.

I like this first reading from the prophet Habakkuk. The question he poses to God is easy to relate to: “Why do you make me see wrongdoing and look at trouble?”[1] We may be a lucky group of people, but when witnessing the sufferings of others, on observing the effects of climate change, conflict or injustice, it’s easy to want to cry out, “why?” We know God knows his people suffer, that he has power to do something about it and that because he’s all loving that he must want to do something about it.

What we have from the prophet Habakkuk is a lament. It was most likely written during a time when Israel was threatened by the Babylonians. Terrified by the prospect of war, the prophet makes this prayer, this lament. Now, a lament isn’t the same as despair. Despair lacks hope, it’s fearful of the future. A lament is different. A lament gives due respect for the condition we find ourselves in today but knows tomorrow will be better. At a funeral, when death threatens to stir up despair, our church uses the symbols of Baptism, the white garment, the holy water, the lit paschal candle, to remind us that there is always every reason to hope, that even death must give way to the promises of Baptism.

Fortunately, Habakkuk doesn’t leave us with a lament without a response. He goes on to say, “The Lord answered me and said:… …there is still a vision for the appointed time; it speaks of the end, and does not lie.”[2] God has a plan for his creation, a vision for how things are to turn out. We’ve been given a glimpse of this vision in the resurrection: in Jesus, death is conquered, all fears and evils vanquished and creation is renewed. That’s the future God has planned for his people.

So, we know we’re net yet in heaven, and must endure trials here and we wait; but it’s hard. It’s wonderful to know something great is yet to come. But in the here and now, people still suffer, evil threatens and we’re left wondering what ought to be done.

Ever catch yourself considering how you would do things if you were God? Ever begin saying to yourself, “Well, if I were God I wouldn’t allow this evil to exist or that suffering to continue”? While I think it’s great to imagine how our world could be without evils, there is some danger when putting ourselves in God’s position because control always ruins relationships. If one spouse strives to control the other, there’s a serious problem. A friendship can never blossom between two people if one wishes to control the other. Love and control are opposed.

No, we never want to control those we have relationships with. We want to build trust and that means taking risks. It means admitting there are things we don’t have control over and shouldn’t have control over. It means accepting weakness and the possibility of suffering. For me, Mary as she followed Jesus to the cross is an exce...

Last Sunday, we read about the parable of a rich man with the unjust steward and in that parable, Jesus instructed us to be wise and prudent in the use of material wealth and possession and he ended the parable by saying, “You cannot serve both God and money.”

In today’s Gospel reading, Jesus gives us another parable of a rich man who was not wise and prudent in the use of his material possession and chose to serve money over God. In this parable, Jesus contrasts the life of an unknown wealthy man and that of a poor wretched man called Lazarus. The unknown man was not only rich but was also living a luxurious life. The rich man also feasted sumptuously everyday and had surplus of everything he needed at his disposal. Conversely, at the rich man’s gate was Lazarus, a man who was hungry, sick, who suffered from a skin related disease and most likely he was crippled and was laid at the rich man’s gate by friends or family members who thought the rich man in his benevolence would have offered Lazarus some help. Unfortunately, the rich man proved them wrong. To express how sick and helpless Lazarus was, he could not chase the dogs that came and licked his sores. However, it sems the dogs were more compassionate and showed more interest in him than the rich man.  

Apparently, both the rich man and Lazarus eventually died, and the table was turned in favor of Lazarus who was carried by the angels to Abraham’s bosom while the rich man was buried and went to hell where he suffered more than Lazarus. In his agony and pain, he cried out to Abraham to ask Lazarus to give him a drop of water to cool his tongue. Lazarus who was a poor beggar, became a rich man while the rich man became the poor beggar. We must therefore be careful with how we treat the poor, the sick, the orphans and the physically challenged in our communities because no condition is permanent. However good or bad a situation might be now, it is likely to change because change is inevitable.

Furthermore, one may ask what exactly was the offense of the rich man and why did he go to hell? He did not abuse Lazarus physically nor did he chase Lazarus away from his gate. Has the rich man no right to use his hard-earned money the way he pleases? The prophet Amos answers this question in our first reading. Amos lamented and denounced the luxurious living and extravagant lifestyles of the crème de la crème in Judah “who drink wine in bowls, and anoint themselves with the finest oils, but are not grieved over the ruin of Joseph.” In other words, like the rich man in the parable, they were only concerned about their own luxurious comfort and did not care about anyone else nor about the northern kingdom which was about to be taken into captivity by the Assyrians.  

In our Catholic Theology, we are made to understand that we commit sin through four different ways: Through our thoughts, Our Words, Our Actions and Our Omissions. The sin of the rich man was not what he did but what he failed to do which is the sin of omission. He was insensitive to the plight of Lazarus and failed to obey the command of God instructing us to love. He was punished because he was unable to use the wealth God gave to him to love and help Lazarus who was in need. It presupposes that we have a mandate and a responsibility to use whatever gift God has given to us to love and to ameliorate the plight of those suffering in our society.

The parable has many lessons for all of us but I wish to focus on just a few;

*  The parable should remind us that death is no respecter of persons and that it is appointed unto man once to die and after that judgement. (Hebrews 9:27). The Catechism of the Catholic Church puts it clearly when it talks about the four last things that await everyone: Death, Judgement, Heaven or Hell.

I’ve noticed all the election signs going up around the city. I know there’s still more than a month to go but definitely vote when the time comes. Truth be told, I don’t have as big an interest in municipal elections as in others; the stakes just don’t seem as high as in Federal or Provincial elections. But for many that’s not completely true. Though Clarington is much smaller than the nation, there are many local services affected by the decisions of municipal politicians. School board policies, funding for shelters or those in need, policing: these may be smaller issues, but they affect us all.

Some have told me they don’t vote because they don’t really like any potential leaders. Leaders have often failed us, even recently. If our leaders had served as expected, as often promised, maybe there would be more support for those in need or inflation wouldn’t be so concerning; maybe those who gathered in Ottawa last winter wouldn’t have felt the need to do so; maybe members of our church would never have been involved in the residential school system and maybe every suspicion of discrimination would be eliminated. Maybe.

Worst of all, it never seems to matter who is in charge. It turns out that even those leaders who have had statues erected in their honour are far from perfect. I heard the proverb often in high school, “absolute power corrupts”. Perhaps the problem isn’t with the people but with authority itself, we wonder, and we hear people cry out, “defund the police”, or “eliminate the military”; some have even suggested removing politicians from office by force. When our leaders let us down, there’s sometimes a temptation to simply eliminate authority altogether.

This isn’t really the Christian way though. Listen to what Saint Paul said in today’s second reading, “…I urge that all supplication, prayers, intercessions and thanksgivings be made for everyone, for kings and all who are in high positions…”[1]. Now, the leaders during the time of Saint Paul were far from praiseworthy. Poverty today has nothing on the poverty of the first century. Public stonings, slavery, the destruction of entire cities were all commonplace. Jesus was sentenced to the cross even though those in authority knew, were absolutely convinced, that he was innocent.

But we find from those of the Early Church, no cry to defund the temple police or to replace the emperor with elected representatives. No, Saint Paul tells us to pray and offer thanksgiving for those in high positions and in this small directive we find four lessons.

First, our leaders are not divine. There’s always been a temptation to divinize leaders. In extreme cases, leaders may be considered gods. In less extreme cases, we may see some clericalism in a parish; a priest may consider himself the only one worthy to take up the ministry of discipleship or the people of the parish may believe that only the holiest, most experienced or educated are able to share the Good News.

Next, our leaders are not demons. They may be incredibly flawed, but that’s because they’re people like the rest of us. We know God can work with this. Those who put Jesus on the cross had very evident faults, but God could work through that. So, we pray that God would work through the faults of our leaders today.

Third, we learn how authority is a gift from God. One of our descriptions for God is, “All Powerful”. If all power comes from God, it must be a good thing. Of course, there’s all kinds of ways that God’s gifts can be misused or neglected. But that doesn’t make God’s gift of power any less good. So, we’re happy to give thanks to God for sharing his authority when we witness it used to eliminate disease, educate children,