4th Sunday of Ordinary Time

We have in this Sunday’s gospel a central teaching in Jesus’ proclamation of God’s Kingdom: the beatitudes. Yet, it is truly puzzling that most Christians consider the Ten Commandments the core of Christian living.  Most of us tend to pay lip service to the beatitudes and easily gravitate towards the commandments.  In my opinion, there are at least two reasons why we do this. The first one is because we find the commandments easier to follow and much less demanding.  A person can fulfill most the commandments perfectly without doing much.  If I lock myself in my house and I do not have much contact or relationships with others I can fulfill most of the commandments. Of course, this is not the spirit of the commandments, but for many Christians this is what they think Christianity is about: keeping laws, but not necessarily having loving relationships.  The second reason is that the beatitudes have been greatly misunderstood.

The beatitudes are given by Jesus in the context of the Sermon on the Mountain in Matthew. It is the experience of finding ourselves loved, forgiven, healed, and accepted by God that promotes what the beatitudes declare.  The beatitudes are not laws to be kept, but rather attitudes to be cultivated to live as citizens of God’s Kingdom.  When the beatitudes are reduced to laws, they tend to create frustration and guilt for not measuring up to them. Another common misconception of the beatitudes is that they promote an image of weakness. Is that what they see in Jesus? Weakness?  In the first beatitude Jesus is not saying that the poor are blessed simply because they are poor, as if poverty is something that God praises and desires for us.  Rather, what Jesus is saying is that despite our poverty we are blessed because the Kingdom has come upon us.  Despite our poverty, materially or spiritually, we find ourselves loved, accepted, and forgiven because God’s Kingdom has touched our lives. The opposite of poverty of spirit is the pride and arrogance of self-sufficiency and self-assertiveness that the world so much admires and promotes. A person who builds on pride and arrogance refuses to submit to God and has displaced God from the center of his/her life.

Fr. Tony Diaz, CMF

3rd Sunday of Ordinary Time

In this Sunday's Gospel we have the beginning of Jesus' public ministry according to Matthew. Jesus begins his ministry after hearing of the arrest of John the Baptist, and he continues with the theme of John's preaching, "Repent, for the Kingdom of heaven is near." The gospel mentions that Jesus leaves Nazareth to settle in Capernaum (two places in the region of Galilee). Jesus lived most of his life in the region of Galilee. Galilee was at the crossroads of commerce, cultures, and religions. It is in a culturally and religiously diverse environment that Jesus lived most of his life and where his mission began. The focus of his mission was mainly to the Jewish community, although we know from the Gospels that he also received pagans who sought him. The religious center of Judaism was Jerusalem and Galilee was geographically and religiously far from this center. Is this significant for us today? Do we seek God's presence only in religious centers or are we also open to finding Him on the margins of religion and society?
 
The central theme of Jesus' preaching was the "Kingdom of God" (or "heaven" in Matthew). In Jesus, the messianic age, of which the prophets spoke much of, was beginning. The Kingdom of God was inaugurated in the very person of Jesus. The healings, miracles, and expulsion of demons confirmed and bore witness to his identity, power, and authority. But not everyone recognized his identity and authority. The vast majority of those who heard him and who witnessed his works did not understand his message, including his disciples. With the testimony of his life, preaching, and miracles Jesus revealed the content and values of the Kingdom. Jesus modeled the new life of the Kingdom and did not demand anything from his disciples that he himself was not willing to submit to.
 
The call to conversion is also something that Jesus modeled for us with his own life. Perhaps we may ask ourselves: did Jesus need conversion, if we profess that there was no sin in him? In Greek, the language of the gospels, the word we translate as "convert" or "repent" is "metanoia." Metanoia describes a dynamic movement as a response to God's initiative to save us. Metanoia is a reorientation of my life in response to the call to repentance and submission to God's will. Although in Jesus there was no sin, there was a need to orient his life to the will of the one who sent him. What Jesus modeled for his disciples (and for us) was a total identification with the Father's will. Jesus' mission was to fulfill the Father's will. The life of Jesus was completely at the service of the Kingdom of God. In this submission to the Father's will and service to the Kingdom of God is summed up the meaning of the call to metanoia, without which there is no discipleship, and no participation in the Kingdom that was inaugurated in Christ.

Fr. Tony Diaz, CMF

2nd Sunday of Ordinary Time

This Sunday's responsorial psalm contains a phrase that I have long been interested in exploring. "I have waited, waited for the LORD." What does it mean to wait on the Lord? "Wait on the Lord" is an expression we find a lot in the Old Testament, particularly in the psalms, proverbs, prophets, and wisdom books. It is also a phrase that those who are going through difficult times often hear from others, pretending to give comfort. The meaning of this phrase is found, not so much in those who communicate it with good intentions, but by those who live the experience of "waiting on the Lord". In the Old Testament there are several words that express the meaning of "waiting," but one of the most common is "qavah." Literally "qavah" means to bind with a rope. But "qavah" also has other connotations such as: waiting, hope, trust. Literally "waiting on the Lord" means tying ourselves to him with a rope. This phrase provokes an interesting image of tying ourselves to God, waiting on Him, hoping in Him, and trusting only in Him.


The image that this phrase provokes is dynamic and not passive, as the word "wait" suggests. The sense of waiting of "qavah" is not to sit idly, passively waiting for everything to fall from the sky. It is living, working, and acting according to the orientation of life to which God calls us. This sense of "waiting" is an act of faith that God will know how to write straight with my crooked lines, even though I am not clear about the when and how of God's will. The second sense of "qavah" is hope. But the meaning of this hope is not found in the expectation that everything will work out. From experience we know, no matter how much faith we have, that things don't always turn out well. This sense of hope focuses on the one who promises to walk with us and not so much on the result, in the style of Abraham, Jesus, Paul, and Mary. To live with this sense of hope is to trust that no matter what, I will be okay because God is with me.


The third sense of "qavah" is trust; trust in that? Like in the sense of hope, trust is in the person, in God, who is my creator, my sustainer, and my savior, and not in the result of my faith in Him. Ultimately, this sense of trust calls us to live by God's will, according to the Lord's own time and not ours. It is difficult for us to wait on the Lord because we want things now, an immediate answer to our prayer. We not only demand that God act according to our timing (when), but also "how" we want things, which is contrary to the meaning of faith and hope. Therefore, only the person who lives the experience of "waiting on the Lord" can understand its deep meaning. The meaning is born of experience, and not in the communication of this phrase, however sincere the will of the one who communicates it. "Wait on the Lord," tie yourself to Him, waiting, hoping, and trusting only in Him.

Fr. Tony Diaz, CMF
 

Solemnity of the Epiphany

I always worry when I hear religious people speak with absolute certainty in the name of God. The older I get the more questions I have about God and how to talk about God. (Growth in knowledge and wisdom makes it quite evident that the depth of what we don’t know is much deeper than what we know.)  For me God is the God of surprises; the God with a fascinating sense of humor. When God decided to take flesh in Jesus, he took the world by surprise.  His own people did not recognize him.  The religious experts rejected him while the least likely people seemed to recognize who he was: the known sinners, prostitutes, those that counted for nothing in society.  He was born in a stable, and the first people that came to visit him were a revelation in themselves.  In the gospel of Luke, shepherds come to visit him.  Shepherds were not highly regarded people.  Today, we romanticized them, but in their time, they were seen as untrustworthy and looked down upon because they lived with animals.  Yet, it is to them that the revelation was made.

In the gospel of Matthew, the revelation was entrusted to foreigners.  It is believed that the magi were astrologers from Persia, what is now Iran.  In the Old Testament, God used Persia as part of God’s plan of salvation.  Cyrus the Great, king of Persia, ends the Babylonian exile and allows the Jewish people to return to Israel to rebuild Jerusalem and the temple. Cyrus is mentioned about 23 times in the Old Testament and many other times indirectly (see the book of Ezra).  Again, messengers from Persia are part of God’s plan to reveal the newborn king to the world.  Who would have thought of this?  The God of surprises strikes again!  God used untrustworthy, dirty, and smelly shepherds as well as foreigners to reveal to Israel and to the world his salvific plan.  We should know better by now not to pretend to know what God is up to or to pretend to know who ought to have access to God and who does not!

It is refreshing to often hear Pope Francis speak not with pretense of absolute certainty but rather through the lens of mercy and compassion. He seems to leave the door of mystery open enough to be surprised and humored by God.  This is truly refreshing!  When we pretend to speak with absolute certainty in the name of God, we seem to lose sight of the most revealing attributes of God: mercy and compassion.  When we speak or act from absolute certainty, we take away from God what belongs only to God: judgment. The only absolute is love, and this is the attitude by which Jesus lived. May we never lose the capacity to be surprised by God.  May the door of mystery always remain open so that we may find ourselves surprised and visited by God in the least possible of places, by the least imaginable of people, and in the least conceivable moments.  Happy feast of the Epiphany!

Fr. Tony Diaz, CMF

Mary, Mother of God

A blessed and joyous New Year!

Alright, alright, alllriiighhhtt, my brothers and sisters: all the presents have been opened, the trash cans are full of gift wrapping paper and tamale wrappings; the excitement and surprise  of the gifts are but a memory now; you have been eating and drinking more than you should have for the last month and now you can barely move and the guilt is killing you; and soon enough you will receive the bill for all the overspending you could not afford for Christmas. I hope and pray somebody gave you some Tylenol for Christmas to take care of the headache that is about to visit you (not the 3 wise men) when the bills come.

But don’t despair, there is a solution; there is a way to regain your dignity and identity. Today we celebrate the solemnity of Mary, Mother of the Church. In today's gospel there are some key words to understand, appreciate and learn from Mary. These words are the following: “Mary, for her part, kept all these things and pondered them in her heart.” The key word is "heart". In the Bible, the heart represents the human being in its totality. The heart is the center of spiritual, intellectual, and emotional life; it is where the will and purpose reside. When the evangelist Luke tells us that Mary "kept and meditated on them in her heart" he means that Mary made herself available to God's will so that her "heart" might be transformed, that is, so that the totality of her life was at the service of the one who called her.

It is here that the glory of Mary resides. Although her virginity and motherhood are important, it is her “yes”, her discipleship, her willingness to let herself be transformed by God's grace that makes her the Mother of the church. Mary is a model of discipleship. She is the woman, the mother, and the disciple who, little by little, with the revelations she received, was allowing her experiences to transform her heart so that she could completely identify with the will of the one who called her. While the Gospels narrate the ups and downs of the disciples and apostles, Mary in silence (as is the case with many women and mothers) forges her walk in faith, trust, fidelity and obedience to the will of God. Come, let us go to Mary so that she may teach us to walk in faith, trust, fidelity, and obedience, even in the midst of life's uncertainties.

Let this be your New Year’s resolution:

Become what you already are in Christ!!

May Mary, Mother of God, Mother of the Church and our Mother intercede for us and bring us closer to her beloved Son and our Lord Jesus, Our Redeemer.

Fr. Tony Diaz, CMF

Solemnity of the Nativity of the Lord

There are those who demand perfection as a condition for the existence of absolute goodness in the world.  This was not the condition that God demanded in the Incarnation.  He chose to come to us in weakness and vulnerability into the chaos of our world.   The Incarnation, Christmas, speaks of unconditional love, which is already present, at work in our troubled history, in our imperfect world.  God chose to pitch his tent, to become one with us, amid the messiness, injustice, and violence of the world we have created, not merely to save us from ourselves, but to reveal to you, to us, that despite ourselves He loves and believes in us. He trusts in the goodness of His creation.  Perhaps, it is better to say that God loves and believes in us not despite ourselves, but rather because of our sinfulness and imperfections.  God does not ignore our sinfulness, God sees it and knows it and, yet still loves us.  It is the experience of finding ourselves loved by God that ultimately awakens within us the desire to be better, to do better, to be the best version of ourselves. It’s the experience of finding ourselves loved that awakens within us the desire to respond to God, not out of obligation, but rather, out of gratitude.

There is a tendency in us to want to sanitize God, religion, and the reality of our human condition.   When we look upon the nativity scene it looks so clean, peaceful, and beautiful.  Have you ever been in a stable where animals live, eat, and reproduce?  A stable is smelly, dirty, noisy, and sometimes even violent.  And yet, this is the place and environment, an image of our world, into which Jesus, the Son of God, is born.  The all-mighty God becomes weak and vulnerable in becoming one with us and he identifies completely with our human condition. He submerges himself into the chaos, messiness, and violence of our reality to save us from ourselves. There is nothing romantic about the Incarnation, but it is an endearing expression of love.  It’s the experience of love that makes us aware that we can be better and to imagine new possibilities under the grace of God.

Soon after Jesus is born, Joseph and Mary must flee to Egypt to preserve the life of the child (gospel of Matthew).  Impressive risk that God took in becoming one with us!  The Incarnation not only says something about God, but also about how God looks upon us.  God is a risk taker; He is willing to give his very life for His creation.  He looks upon us with love, compassion, mercy, and justice.  More important than what we say about God: I love God, I believe in God, and I trust in God, is what God says to us: I love you, I believe in you, and I trust you.  And just as He was willing to risk it all for us, are we willing to take a risk on God, on the people God places in our lives, with all their messiness, imperfections, chaos, and violence?

Merry Christmas!
Fr. Tony Diaz, CMF

4th Sunday of Advent

On this fourth week of Advent, we have the story of Jesus’ birth told through the experience of Joseph in the gospel of Matthew.  What is common to both Luke and Matthew’s versions is that the birth takes place through the actions of the Holy Spirit. There is much that has been said and written of Mary, but poor Joseph has been left in her shadow. Then and now, most men in Joseph’s shoes would have abandoned Mary. But Joseph is not “most men”. Like the other Joseph in the Old Testament, this Joseph is led by the revelation of God through dreams. This Joseph is a righteous man, willing to accept the calling to become the adoptive father of Jesus.  After the birth of Jesus not much is mentioned about Joseph. The scene when Jesus is lost and found in Jerusalem when he was about 12 years old, according to the gospel of Luke, is the last that the gospels mention about Joseph.  Most likely, Joseph died when Jesus was a teenager?   

When Joseph found out that Mary was pregnant, he reacted like most men would have:  he wanted to break up the betrothal. Being betrothed meant that Mary and Joseph were legally married, although they were not living together yet.  The living together part would come after the public ceremony.  It is at the betrothal stage that Mary’s pregnancy was discovered.  This situation placed Mary in danger of death if Joseph would have made her pregnancy public.  The gospel tells us that Joseph was a righteous man and did not wish to expose Mary to public humiliation and a possible death sentence by stoning.  He was contemplating to divorce her in secret when God intervened on Mary’s behalf.  For Mary it was her life and that of the child in her womb that were at stake; for Joseph it was public humiliation that his betrothed had cheated on him before the marriage process was completed. In most male dominated societies, the dignity of men is placed above the concerns, safety and dignity of women, but Joseph, led by faith, stands above those male expectations.  

It is said that faithfulness and obedience is a lonely road to walk.  Mary and Joseph knew this well.  They trusted the revelation given to them by an angel.  Their “yes” to God placed them in great peril physically and socially.  While the call they received did not absolve them from danger and suffering, they were also not left to fend for themselves.  Consistently, we find in the gospels that God provides not only the courage to continue to say “yes”, but also the protection and consolation in the midst of their trials and tribulations.  Both Mary and Joseph, and Jesus himself, remind us that saying “yes” to God has consequences, but we need not fear those consequences for the one who calls also provides what is needed to respond.  Perhaps the question that we can ask ourselves is this: am I willing to live with the consequences of what it means to live as a citizen of God’s kingdom, trusting on the one who called me?

Fr. Tony Diaz, CMF

3rd Sunday of Advent

 
Rituals and symbols are part of the treasure of our Catholic Faith.  Today, the third Sunday of Advent is a little different from the other three Sundays.  This third Sunday is called “Gaudete Sunday”.  The word “gaudete” is Latin for “rejoice”.  On this Sunday the church invites us to intensify our longing for the coming, birth and incarnation of God in Jesus.  Just like parents wait with great anticipation for the birth of their child, especially their first; we too are reminded of the gift that is given to us in Jesus.  The readings for today speak of joyous anticipation.  Visually, the pattern of the purple candles on the Advent wreath is broken with the lighting of the pink candle.  Perhaps, more than ever, we need this reminder to bring us back from the chaotic last three years of Covid 19, the commercialism and consumerism that Christmas has become. Furthermore, our present experience of division within our country calls us to unity.

The color purple symbolizes repentance and mourning for all that damages and impacts our relationships with God, others and ourselves. However, the great event that we are about to celebrate is a birth and this calls for celebration.  The long-awaited Messiah of which the ancient prophets spoke about is finally here and this calls for rejoicing.  The gospel of Matthew says: “Go tell John what you hear and see: the blind regain their sight, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised and the poor have the good news proclaimed to them.  And blessed is the one who take no offense at me.”  Do you see yourself in these prefer recipients of the good news that Jesus lists? The message of Isaiah, Paul, and Jesus can only become Good News to us when we see ourselves in need to be saved, healed, liberated, and renewed. If there is no such awareness or need, then the birth and incarnation of God in Jesus can hardly be seen as a gift or cause for rejoicing.  

More than simply recognizing our sins, the Advent season reminds us of our need for a relationship with God and one another. It is through relationships that we are saved, healed, freed, renewed, and made whole again. Relationship is at the heart of who we are and what we are called to become. It is through relationships that we were brought into this world.  It is through relationships that we grow, mature and create our own identity.  It is through relationships that we begin to look beyond ourselves when we care for others. It is through relationships that we form and nurture kinship in our communities and societies. And it is through relationships that we finally reach our deepest longing: union with God. May the birth of our Lord renew in us the desire for relationship with God and kinship with one another.

Fr. Tony Diaz, CMF

2nd Sunday of Advent

Throughout history religion has been criticized for promoting unrealistic visions of life and heaven; for enslaving believer’s minds rather than liberating them. Religious people react defensively against these criticisms.  These criticisms are generalizations that need to be taken for what they are: generalizations. However, we cannot completely discard them as unreasonable because sometimes the way we talk about God and religion may be viewed as pie in the sky.  In today’s first reading we are presented with a vision from the prophet Isaiah: “Justice shall be the band around his waist, and faithfulness a belt upon his hips. Then the wolf shall be a guest of the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid; the calf and the young lion shall browse together, with a little child to guide them.  The cow and the bear shall be neighbors…There shall be no harm or ruin on all my holy mountain; for the earth shall be filled with knowledge of the Lord.”

What are we to make of this vision from Isaiah?  Some would say that this vision is of heaven, but biblical scholars tell us that this vision is for this world under God’s reign.  Then, we must ask: is this vision realistic?  Should we hang our hopes on this vision of unity and solidarity? When we look at Jesus in the gospels, he seems to live his life by this vision.  Truly, the fact that Jesus adopts this vision for himself is at the heart of why he continues to attract so many to himself and to the vision of God’s Kingdom.  Jesus’ response to hatred, violence, and divisions still manages to challenge our imagination of what is possible under God’s grace.  Jesus still manages to challenge us to not reduce ourselves to our lowest aspirations, but rather to rise to the potential for greatness that God sees in us.  There is a sense of freshness in the way Jesus moves, acts, loves, and relates to people in the gospels.  His sense of freedom awakens within us something that seems to be asleep.  We recognize it because we instinctively desire it and long for it.
 
Jesus models the vision of God’s Kingdom, and he lives his life in service to the Kingdom. He confronted all that opposed this vision of the Kingdom with the conviction that love, mercy, and justice would triumph.  “Not by appearance shall he judge, nor by the hearsay shall he decide,” but by the vision of God’s Kingdom.  For Jesus, the vision of God’s Kingdom is not an unrealistic vision, nor an illusion.  This vision does not enslave him, but rather frees him to submit himself without reserve to God’s will and the salvation of the world.  It is his “yes” to God’s Kingdom in freedom that awakens within us the desire to follow him and to adopt for ourselves this vision.  On this second Sunday of Advent, we are invited to renew our desire for God’s Kingdom, for that is what we pray for every time we pray the Our Father.   May the birth of the newborn King awaken within us the life of the Kingdom already in our midst.

Fr. Tony Diaz, CMF

1^stSunday of Advent

We are beginning the Advent season this Sunday. The word “advent” literally means “coming”.  During Advent we prepare to celebrate the coming, birth, incarnation of God in the child named Jesus.  However, this “advent” also points to two other “comings” of the Lord. In essence, in the Advent season we contemplate three different comings: the past coming (birth, incarnation); the present coming (the Christ who comes to us in every life experience and every person), and the future (second) coming, the Christ who will assume full dominion of God’s Kingdom. The liturgical color of Advent is purple, symbol of sorrow, penitence and preparation. During Advent we ask God to help us identify and name everything that prevents us from recognizing and welcoming him.

In the first coming we contemplate the reality of our world with the awareness that it is the “world so loved by God that He sent his only Son, not to condemn, but to save it” (Jn. 3;16). When God contemplates the world, he looks upon it with love and compassion, so much so that he takes the initiative to become one with us.  His love is so great that he does not pretend to be one with us (like a tourist), but rather risks it all to the point of even giving his life for the salvation of all.  The incarnation is the mystery that so captivated St. Francis of Assisi and moved him to create the nativity scene so familiar to us now because he was in awe of the love, initiative and daring of God in becoming one with us.  What kind of God is this; what kind of love is this that dared so greatly by becoming so vulnerable?  And yet, through his vulnerability God reveals the greatness and power of his love.  

In the second coming, we contemplate the universal and eternal Christ who through the resurrection breaks the bonds of space and time.  Christ is no longer the Jesus of flesh and blood limited by space and time, but the risen Lord, the universal Christ, who is present to us in the here and now, in every encounter of life, in every man and woman that comes into our lives, in every circumstance that life throws our way.  He is the one that knocks at our door and bids us to always be awake and alert to receive him.  And finally, we have the third coming of Christ at the end of times.  This is what we refer to as the second and final coming when Christ will assume all things under his power.    So, how are we to wait for the coming of the Lord? Sitting on our hands waiting for the Lord’s coming as an act of magic? No, we wait by going about the work of the Kingdom. Not with anxiety or fear, but with open minds and hearts ready to receive him in and through whatever manner and form the Lord chooses to come to us. Be awake and alert for he comes!

Fr. Tony Diaz, CMF

Solemnity of Christ  the King

The people of Israel in the Old Testament lived under monarchies up until the coming of the Messiah, Jesus, the Christ. Jesus is proclaimed with the title of Christ the King through his connection with the house of David, second king of Israel. But how to understand the concept of monarchy and how to assume the experience of submission to a king if we do not have the experience to a monarchy? The United States was born out of the rebellion and rejection of the English monarchy. Mexico had two emperors, Augustine I (1822-1823) and Maximilian I (1864-1867), both were violently deposed and executed. Taking into consideration these beginnings in relation to the monarchy in the United States and Mexico, it is curious how we pretend to speak of Christ the King as if it were a concept that we understood and lived in relation to a monarchy. Particularly, when we consider that monarchies in the Old Testament were absolute and not constitutional, as they are today in England and Spain.

We live under a system of government we call democracy. This system of government is antithetical to the monarchy, particularly absolute monarchies where there are no rights, no laws protecting subjects, but only the will, whims, and decrees of the monarch. To proclaim, "Long live Christ the King!" is to submit unconditionally to our King. Submission is something that runs counter to our democratic experience. This contrast between democracy and monarchy must make clear the implications of our faith, loyalty, and submission to our King. Our King is a monarch who does not accept loyalties to other kings (gods); he is an absolute King in whom only his will reigns. But the reality is we do not understand and treat Christ the King, as an absolute King, but rather, as a politician within our democratic experience: we listen to him and follow him depending on how he attends to our personal interests.

And who is our King to whom we owe faithfulness, loyalty, and submission? It is not like the absolute kings of history or today. He is a benevolent, just, compassionate, and merciful King. He is a King who seeks and desires only our well-being (agape). He is not a King who imposes himself, he is a King who desires our consent, a consent that is born not of a decree, but of the experience of knowing that we are loved and accepted by Him (conversion). And this King not only demands, albeit with much right, but he is also willing to live and die for his people. He is the good shepherd who guides, protects, and lays down his life for his sheep. He is the King in the style of the suffering servant of the prophet Isaiah. He is the King of Luke's gospel who even in his torment on the cross has the consideration of accepting the repentance and request of the second criminal crucified along with him: "I assure you that today you will be with me in paradise." He is the King who models for us the path of faith, love, and compassion. His words and teachings are confirmed by his example of life to the extreme: death and death on a cross. This is our King: "Long live Christ the King!"
Fr. Tony Diaz, CMF

32nd Sunday of Ordinary Time

New Testament scholars tell us that at the time of Jesus there were at least three major Jewish groups that made up the Jewish community: Pharisees, Essenes, and Sadducees.   The Pharisees come up a lot in the gospels in conflict with Jesus.   The Pharisees represented the best of Judaism. Many Pharisees were also attracted to Jesus.  St. Paul was a Pharisee.   The Essenes were a separatist Jewish group who saw life in the cities and towns as polluted. They separated themselves from the rest of Jewish society and lived in isolated communities. It is believed that John the Baptist came from one of these communities.  The Sadducees were the power brokers in the Jewish community.  They had one foot in the religious world and another in the political arena.  Religiously, they accepted only the Pentateuch (the first 5 books of the Old Testament) as scripture, but not the other historical books and the prophets.   They also did not accept the rabbinic tradition of commentary on the scriptures.   They did not believe in the resurrection, which is the issue they confront Jesus in this Sunday’s gospel.
 
The Sadducees wanted to test Jesus on the issue of the resurrection with an extreme case.  A reasonable case would have been to mention a wife with two husbands.    Instead, they used 7 husbands to make their argument against the resurrection.   Jesus uses Moses (someone whom the Sadducees would have recognized as authoritative) to argue against them.  “That the dead will rise even Moses made known in the passage about the bush, when he called out ‘Lord’, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob; and he is not God of the dead, but of the living, for to him all are alive.”  Scientists tell us that all matter is energy, and that energy can neither be created nor destroyed (law of conservation of energy). Energy is changed and transformed, but never destroyed.  Therefore, every one that was, is, and will be is alive and present in God.

To face this reality is to face our mortality in relationship to the One who in love creates us, in love sustains us, and love calls us to himself.  What a profound meditation, that in facing our mortality we encounter eternity itself.   People who have been at death’s door and have overcome their fear of death speak of experiencing a profound sense of peace because they know that they will die, but they will never be destroyed.  This is the beautiful conclusion that St Paul comes to in the letter to the Romans.   This is the experience that allowed St. Paul to face his own sufferings, persecution, and death with peace. “For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Romans 8:37-39) What is left to be determined by us is how we choose to live in relationship with God: whether in union or in separation with God?

Fr. Tony Diaz, CMF

31st Sunday of Ordinary Time

In this Sunday’s readings we continue with the theme from last week: God’s attitude towards sinners.  Today we have another tax collector, but not just any tax collector, a chief tax collector! Luke mentions him by name: Zacchaeus.  Tax collectors were hated and seen as traitors in the Jewish community, and this one more so because he was a chief tax collector.  We are told some things about Zacchaeus: he is wealthy, short and is very interested in seeing Jesus.  We do not know why he was interested in seeing Jesus.  Did he have a genuine interest in meeting him or was he just curious?  Imagine the surprise of Zacchaeus when Jesus noticed him, called him by name, and invited himself to his house.  Jesus was not thinking like others; Jesus looked beyond the stereotypes, attitudes, and hatred that people had towards tax collectors.  This is a profound insight: God does not look at us in the way the world, others or even how I see myself.

Immediately, people begin to grumble about Jesus’ decision: “He has gone to stay at the house of a sinner.”  In the grumbling of the people, particularly the religious leaders, we see our great temptation to want to limit and put boundaries around God.  We constantly feel the temptation to determine who is “in” and who is “out”; the “us” and “them”. We constantly feel the need to determine who has access to God and who does not.  But God will not be imprisoned, limited, or restricted by our hardness of heart.  God will always tear down the walls and divisions we try to build around him.  And the most tragic reality may be, when we insist in trying to determine who has and who does not have to access to God, we may find ourselves on the outside of those divisions.   “Today salvation has come to this house because this man too is a descendant of Abraham.  For the Son of Man has come to seek and to save what was lost.”

Today’s first reading from the Book of Wisdom beautifully summarizes God’s attitude, particularly towards sinners: “But you have mercy on all, because you can do all things; and you overlook people’s sins that they many repent. For you love all things that are and loathe nothing that you have made; for what you hated, you would not have fashioned.  But you spare all things, O Lord, and lover of souls, for your imperishable spirit is in all things! Therefore, you rebuke offenders little by little, warn them and remind them of the sins they are committing, that they many abandon their wickedness and believe in you, O Lord!” This ought to remind us to strive to see how God sees. We ought to raise our minds and hearts to the vision of God and not reduce God to our narrow mindedness and hardness of heart.  What God creates; God loves; you are a creation of God. Can you accept this Word of God as addressed to you today?

Fr. Tony Diaz, CMF

30th Sunday of Ordinary Time

 

In the gospel this Sunday we continue with the theme of prayer in the first half of chapter 18 in Luke.  The specific topic is “humility” in prayer.  Two men went up to the temple to pray, one went home justified the other one did not.  The Pharisee was a very religious man.  He tried to keep the law and live a righteous life.  He fasted often and contributed to the temple.  So, why did Jesus say that he was not justified in the eyes of God?  The tax collector, on the other hand, was a hated man.  He collected taxes for the Roman Empire and on top of the taxes he collected his wages.  Tax collectors were judged by the Jewish community as traitors and abusers of their positions, many were wealthy.  Why did Jesus say that this man went home justified in the eyes of God? 

The fundamental difference between these two men, in the eyes of Jesus, is that the Pharisee had no need of God, while the tax collector did.  “O God, I thank you that I am not like the rest of humanity—greedy, dishonest, adulterous—or even like this tax collector.  I fast twice a week, and I pay tithes on my whole income.”  For this Pharisee religion was about himself, not about God and others. This Pharisee had no need of God because he saw himself as righteous and justified through his own actions.  His religious practices made him think that he was better and superior to others.  He thought that he had earned and deserved God’s love and respect.  He thought that there was no sin in him, and therefore, no need of God because his religious practices made him righteous in the eyes of God.  The tax collector, on the other hand, did not even dare to raise his eyes because he knew he was a sinner.  “O God, be merciful to me a sinner.”  The tax collector knew he could not live without God, particularly in his sinfulness.  

Sin is not merely about personal failures and shortcomings of behavioral expectations.  This is what we hear often in the sacrament of reconciliation: “I got angry,” “I lost my patience,” “I did not go to mass.”  Sin is more about relationships: our relationships with God, others, and ourselves. Sin is the failure to love, to not forgive or not allow to be forgiven; sin is creating obstacles to relationships.  Sin is not only what we do to impact these relationships, but also what we choose not to do: sins of omission. Fundamentally, sin is relational and not simply personal.  Just like I need air, food, and water to survive I need God.  Prayer is the air, food and water that sustain my relationship with God, others, and myself.  Sin is not only personal weakness or failure; it also impacts and destroys relationships.  The awareness of sin does not mean separation from God, but rather the recognition of my need for relationship with God and other

Fr. Tony Diaz, CMF

29th Sunday of Ordinary Time

Prior to today’s gospel Jesus was asked by a Pharisee when the kingdom of God will arrive.  Jesus answered this question by saying that the kingdom arrives unobserved. He then addresses his disciples with further teachings about the “Son of man” and his unexpected coming. It is after this that today’s gospel begins. Today’s gospel then, seems to be a continuation of this previous conversation.  With this Jesus moves into the topic of how to live while waiting for the kingdom and the Son of man.  The central theme in the first half of chapter 18 is prayer: persistence in prayer, humility in prayer and prayer leading to trust in God. Jesus does not seem to be concerned with the “when” and “how” of the coming of the kingdom and of the Son of man.  For Jesus waiting is about living in right relationship with God, others and oneself.  We live in the new reality of the Kingdom already here, but not yet fulfilled.  Jesus’ proclamation is about living in the present, in this new reality and not merely waiting for things to happen.

The parable in today’s gospel is about persistence in prayer.  In the parable a widow is persistent in getting a just ruling from an unjust judge.  Jesus uses this parable to illustrate that if in an unjust world persistence can accomplish some things, how much more is it possible with a just and compassionate God. However, in the images of Moses praying for victory in the first reading and the persistent widow in the gospel should not leave us with the belief that we can manipulate God through prayer.  For Jesus prayer is not manipulation of God nor superstition; prayer needs to be understood within the context of relationship with God.  Sadly, many religious people do believe that we can manipulate God with prayer or that we can have God be indebted to us because of our religious practices. To further understand prayer in the Gospels we must ask: “how Jesus models prayer?”  

For Jesus, prayer, whether of praise, thanksgiving, intercession, petition, mental, vocal, contemplative, meditative, personal or in group, is about intimacy, trust, and acceptance of God’s will. God may not grant all that we ask in prayer, and not because of lack of faith, but we can trust that we can find all that we need in God’s will.  God does not promise that everything will be alright, but no matter what happens, we are asked to trust that we will be alright because of the One who promised to walk and journey with us. The clearest example we have from Jesus is when he is praying at the garden of Gethsemane: “Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done.” God allows his son to enter into his passion and death.  Things didn't go as Jesus asked in prayer, yet he trusted as he placed himself under God’s will. The passion and death of Jesus were not the last word. Do you believe that this can be true for you as well?

Fr. Tony Diaz, CMF

28th Sunday of Ordinary Time

 
We have a common theme of leprosy in the first reading and gospel for this Sunday.  The situations of the lepers in these two readings are different.  The leper in the first reading is a general, a high-ranking officer in the kingdom of Aram, not a Jewish territory.  He was stigmatized because of leprosy, but he was still able to live and work within his community; not so in the Jewish community.  A leper in a Jewish community was isolated from his family and community and forced to live in the boundaries of town.  When they encountered someone on the road they would have to scream “unclean, unclean” so that no one would have close contact with them.  Anyone who had contact with a leper would become ritually unclean. This is why in today’s gospel the ten lepers yell at Jesus from a distance “Jesus, Master! Have pity on us!” They have probably heard of Jesus and saw him as a last hope.

The group of ten lepers was probably made up of Jews and Samaritans since Jesus is in a border region between Galilee and Samaria.  Even though these two groups were enemies and hated each other, here they are united by a common enemy: leprosy.  Just like at the end of the gospel of Luke Pilot and Herod, mutual enemies, will be united by a common dislike of Jesus.  A common suffering may sometimes break down the walls between enemies.  When the ten lepers call after Jesus they are simply sent to the local priest.  The local priest determined when a leper was cleansed and, thus, able to return to the family and community.  It was on the way that they were healed.  The punch line in this story is this: “And he was a Samaritan”. Only the outsider and the one hated by Jews came back to praise God. This is the unexpected detail in the story that should give us pause to reflect.

The one presumed to be the farthest and least loved by God (because he is Samaritan) is the one who is most aware of God’s action in his life. Similarly, in the first reading Naaman, a non-Jew, is healed by Elisha the prophet. God in Jesus is reconciling the world to himself. Jesus in the gospels is breaking down the walls of division between Jews and non-Jews.  God’s Kingdom is open to all.  Access to God is not limited by the culture, race or religion of those who seek Him. Jesus is not limited by the taboos against leprosy or by the hatred between Jews and Samaritans. We constantly want to create boundaries around God to control who has access to God and who does not, but God keeps tearing down these boundaries.  Who are the lepers of our time? The ones that we presume cannot have access to God; the ones that we isolated from our community? Is it the single parent; the homosexual; the woman who has had an abortion; the divorce man or woman?

Fr. Tony Diaz, CMF

27^th Sunday of Ordinary Time

LINK to Fr Tony Diaz Sunday Homily

 

The request of the disciples of Jesus is a familiar one: “Increase our faith.”  Why did the disciples (and us) ask for an increase of faith? Jesus’ response to the disciples’ (and our) request is that when it comes to faith the issue is not quantity.  Genuine faith, the kind of faith that relies, trusts and obeys God is not about quantity, but quality.  I can have faith that God exists; that God is compassionate and merciful, but if there is no relationship in trust and obedience to this God, then that is not the saving faith that Jesus is talking about. Perhaps the disciples (and us) see faith only as functional: to accomplish things, for miracles, to succeed. What about when things do not go my way; when miracles do not happen; when I fail?  Do you trust that God is also present in these situations?  Faith is relational and it is through the relationship with God that amazing things can happen even when things do not go my way.

The second part of today’s gospel deals with some fundamental realities of faith: Is God obligated to us when we are loving, forgiving and faithful?  The answer from today’s gospel is clearly “NO”. “When you have done all you have been commanded, say, ‘We are unprofitable servants; we have done what we were obliged to do.’” God does not owe the disciple anything for faithfulness? To love, be kind, merciful, compassionate, and faithful is the nature of what it means to be a Christian, a disciple, a son/daughter of God. We do not live and behave in this manner to demand anything from God.  What about heaven; God’s love and grace; don’t we earn these things through our good deeds?  Well, no! If I could earn my way into heaven, earn God’s love and grace, what do I need God for? Heaven, God’s love and grace are always a gift from God and never something we earn, merit or deserve. 

Sadly, many religious people live their entire lives trying to please God with their good deeds.  They try to convince God and themselves that they are worthy and deserving of God’s love, grace and heaven because of their religious actions. The sad reality is that they will never reach that point of neither convincing God nor themselves that they are worthy of God’s love.  They live in a constant experience of frustration and misery because they will never be “good enough” because of their failure to be perfect. This is the experience of the older son in the parable of the Prodigal Son.  To do what God asks of us is our duty.  I do not need to prove or convince God of anything; God’s love and grace, heaven itself is a gift from God.   There is a tremendous sense of freedom and peace in finally grasping this.  We strive to be good, decent and holy people because that is the nature of a Christian. Everything else is on God. That is Good News!

Fr. Tony Diaz, CMF

26th Week of Ordinary Time

 

Last week Jesus said to his disciples: “You cannot serve both God and mammon.”  Mammon here is personified as another god to whom loyalty is given, therefore, idolatry. In saying this Jesus is not demonizing money.  Money is neither good nor evil.  What makes it good or evil is how it is acquired and used. In today’s gospel Jesus is addressing Pharisees on the same topic of wealth. He tells them a story of a rich man, who lives extravagantly, but who chooses not to care for the poor man in front of his house.  When both the rich man and Lazarus, the poor man, die Lazarus is taken to heaven and the rich man to hell. The rich man goes to hell not because he is rich, but rather, because of his indifference to the needs of Lazarus.

Even in the scene from hell the rich man fails to recognize the dignity of Lazarus.  He asks Abraham to send Lazarus to him and to his brothers, just as in life the rich man would only recognize Lazarus as someone who serves him.  There are two issues that this story is addressing. The first one is that wealth is never only for oneself.  If wealth is seen as a blessing, then it is never purely for oneself. It is also meant to be shared with those who have less.  The second issue is that wealth does not determine the dignity of a person.  The rich man saw himself as more important than Lazarus who was poor.  In the story, we are not told what kind of person Lazarus was.  The name Lazarus means “God helps”. Is Lazarus loved by God simply because he is poor?  Not necessarily.  There are also many poor people that are sinners.  Lazarus in this story is not only poor, but also not able to care for himself.  He represents the most vulnerable in any society.  The question that follows from this is this: is it the responsibility of society to solve the problems of poverty or is charity be the answer?

Some years back Dom Helder Camara, a Brazilian archbishop said this: “When I give food to the poor, they call me a saint.  When I ask why the poor have no food, they call me a Communist.”  Most people in every society would rather address poverty and hunger through charity, whereas Jesus (vision of God’s Kingdom) addresses poverty and hunger through solidarity.  Charity involves the temporary relief of the problem and of our guilty conscience; solidarity involves questioning the roots of poverty and hunger, and finding systemic solutions to the problem (God’s Kingdom). The fundamental statement of this parable is this: our common humanity and relationship to God call us to solidarity and kinship with one another.  Wherever there is hunger, poverty, oppression, and injustice we are mutually responsible for its existence.  The problem is not lack of food, but poor distribution of the resources.

Fr. Tony Diaz, CMF

25th Sunday of Ordinary Time

We have in today’s gospel a parable that is difficult to interpret.  Jesus seems to be praising the actions of the dishonest steward.  Let us unpack the parable to understand more clearly what Jesus is actually saying.  Jesus is talking to his disciples only, not to a large crowd. In the parable a rich man is told about the dishonesty of his administrator.  The rich man decides to dismiss his dishonest administrator. Before he is dismissed the dishonest administrator acts to reduce the debts of those who are indebted to his master.  The administrator is trying to create favorable conditions for himself after his dismissal from his job.  The reduction of the debts is most likely the percentage that the administrator earned for himself on top of what he earned for his master.  The rich man was still going to get his share of the debt, but the dishonest administrator was sacrificing his share for the sake of gaining friends to receive him once he was fired. 

What Jesus praises is the initiative of the dishonest steward in securing his life after he is fired.  Jesus is not praising the morality of his actions, but only his initiative.  If dishonest people can plan for their future with dishonest practices, should not the sons/daughters of light strive for eternal life through the practices of righteousness? In other words, the initiative of the dishonest administrator is worth imitating for the sake of eternal life, but not the morality of his actions. There is, however, another possible interpretation of these words of Jesus. Sarcasm and exaggeration are not uncommon in the gospels (“why do you look at the speck in your brother’s eye, but you do not see the beam in your own eye” Lk 6:41).  Just like the dishonest steward is trying to win friends with his dishonest actions, others try to win their way into heaven through a life of dishonesty.  Jesus is mocking this.

The application of the parable in the following verses makes clear Jesus’ intention: faithfulness and loyalty to God and the Kingdom must be absolute in big situations as well as in small ones.  “The person who is trustworthy in very small matters is also trustworthy in great ones; and the person who is dishonest in very small matters is also dishonest in great ones.”  Two Sundays ago when Jesus spoke about discipleship (Lk 14:25-35) he also talked about faithfulness and loyalty to God and the Kingdom.  Here too, Jesus is being specific about what discipleship means: “No servant can serve two masters.  He will either hate one and love the other, or be devoted to one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and mammon.”  Mammon here is personified as another god to whom loyalty is given, therefore, idolatry. In saying this Jesus is not demonizing money.  Money is neither good nor evil.  What makes it good or evil is how it is gained and used. 

Fr. Tony Diaz, CMF

Feast of the Exaltation of the Cross

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On this Feast Day of the Exaltation of the Cross, I offer you part of a theological reflection on St. Paul’s theology of the Cross that Pope Benedict XVI gave in a public audience on October 29, 2008.

For St Paul the Cross has a fundamental primacy in the history of humanity; it represents the focal point of his theology because to say "Cross" is to say salvation as grace given to every creature. The topic of the Cross of Christ becomes an essential and primary element of the Apostle's preaching: the clearest example concerns the community of Corinth. Facing a Church in which disorder and scandal were disturbingly present, where communion was threatened by internal factions and ruptures which damaged the unity of the Body of Christ, Paul did not present himself with sublime words or wisdom but with the proclamation of Christ, of Christ crucified. His strength is not in the use of persuasive language but, paradoxically, in the weakness and trepidation of those who entrust themselves solely to the "power of God" (cf. 1 Cor 2: 1-5). The Cross, for all it represents, hence also for the theological message it contains, is scandal and folly. The Apostle says so with an impressive force that it is good to hear directly from his words: "for the word of the Cross is folly to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God. " (1 Cor 1: 18-20).

But why did St Paul make precisely this, the word of the Cross, the fundamental core of his teaching? The answer is not difficult: the Cross reveals "the power of God" (cf. 1 Cor 1: 24), which is different from human power; indeed, it reveals his love: "For the foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men" (ibid., v. 25). Centuries after Paul we see that in history it was the Cross that triumphed and not the wisdom that opposed it. The Crucified One is wisdom, for he truly shows who God is, that is, a force of love which went even as far as the Cross to save men and women. God uses ways and means that seem to us at first sight to be merely weakness. The Crucified One reveals on the one hand man's frailty and on the other, the true power of God, that is the free gift of love: this totally gratuitous love is true wisdom.

St Paul gave a wonderful synthesis of the theology of the Cross in the Second Letter to the Corinthians (5: 14-21) where everything is enclosed between two fundamental affirmations: on the one hand Christ, whom God made to be sin for our sake (v. 21), he died for all (v. 14); and on the other, God reconciled us to himself without imputing our sins to us (vv. 18-20). It is from this "ministry of reconciliation" that every form of slavery is already redeemed (cf. 1 Cor 6: 20; 7: 23). Here it appears how important this is for our lives. We too must enter into this "ministry of reconciliation" that always implies relinquishing one's superiority and opting for the folly of love. St Paul sacrificed his own life, devoting himself without reserve to the ministry of reconciliation, of the Cross, which is salvation for us all. And we too must be able to do this: may we be able to find our strength precisely in the humility of love and our wisdom in the weakness of renunciation, entering thereby into God's power. We must all model our lives on this true wisdom: we must not live for ourselves but must live in faith in that God of whom we can all say: "he loved me and gave himself for me".

Fr. Tony Diaz, CMF

23^rd Sunday of Ordinary Time

The main theme of today’s gospel is the cost of discipleship.  

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In today’s gospel Jesus is followed by a “huge crowd.” Most likely the people in the crowd had different motivations in following Jesus.  Perhaps some were just curious; others may have been in need of healing; still others were genuinely interested in what Jesus taught and did.  Jesus stops and addresses them the cost of discipleship.  What Jesus demands is complete loyalty. To make sure the crowd understood clearly the kind of loyalty he expected, he placed it against the loyalty to family.  In all cultures loyalty to family is held as the highest expression of love and honor. Yet, Jesus places loyalty to him and the Kingdom as something above the loyalty to family.  How are we to understand this cost of discipleship, especially when the word “hate” of family and self is used?  The demands of disciple must have scare many in the crowd as it still does today.

When we are faced with the cost of discipleship and the demands of love, mercy and compassion we can easily lose heart if we forget that it is God who makes discipleship possible.  We are unable to accept the demands of discipleship unless there is a prior experience of having been touched by God’s grace and love.  It is the experience of having been forgiven, healed and loved by God that makes discipleship possible.   Religion is always a response to the initiative of God.  Although it is common to hear from people who have had a religious experience that they have found God, it is actually God who has found them. God was not lost, they were. Religion and spirituality are the pursuit of that “something” that has awakened the person to some greater reality.

But then the gospel has Jesus using some very disturbing words.  “If anyone comes to me without hating his father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple.” Are we to take this literally? Is it either Jesus or my family? The answer is “no”.  Jesus is not anti-family; if he was, he would be violating the commandment to honor father and mother. Yet, there are situations when faithfulness to Jesus and the Kingdom will place us in conflict even with family.  The word “hate’ in this gospel has to be understood in relationship to love of God.  Love of God has to be above everything, even family.  It is God’s love that can makes love of family possible beyond flesh and blood.  The word “hate” in this gospel simply means to love family less than loving God.  The slogan, “my family (or country), right or wrong”, can never be the slogan of a Christian.  When family (or country) promotes unjust, hateful, racist, divisive and violent behavior discipleship to Jesus will force us to make difficult decisions. 

Fr. Tony Diaz, CMF

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22nd Sunday of Ordinary Time

 

One major topic in the first reading and gospel for this Sunday is humility. The end of the first parable says: “For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted.”  Humility is a major virtue that the Old and New Testament encourage us to acquire.  In Christian spirituality, particularly in the Fathers of the Church, humility is described as the “mother of all virtues.”  Yet, most Christians find it tremendously challenging to understand how to live the biblical and spiritual command to be humble and having a healthy sense of dignity and assertiveness in the world.  In Western cultures humility is not a highly praised virtue. In the world where freedom, power and self-aggrandizement are valued humility is seen with contempt.  This is a topic that requires much reflection and personal soul searching.  But, perhaps approaching the subject through what humility is not may be a good place to start.
 
The biblical and spiritual notion of humility is not the denial and denigration of one’s worth and dignity.  To be humble does not mean weakness of character, feeling insignificant or unimportant. A humble person is not a door mat that others walk all over him/her. To be humble does not mean that one accepts humiliation unquestionably.  At the heart of what biblical and spiritual humility points to is complete dependence on God. Humility is the “deep awareness of our limitations and shortcomings in the presence of divine perfection.” The first reading says, “God’s power is great and he is honored by those who are humble.” Humility is to grasp, by the grace of God, the truth of God and who God says we are.  The biblical and spiritual model of humility is seen most clearly in Jesus Christ. He models complete dependence, reliance and submission to God’s will, while never losing sight of his dignity.
 
Is it weakness of character and lack of dignity that Jesus models? Quite the contrary!  Jesus models a profound sense of freedom because he knows clearly who he is the eyes of God.  His freedom was expressed most clearly in freely accepting God’s will.  When he humbled himself at the washing of the feet of his disciples there was no humiliation.  He modeled for us that authority and leadership are for the sake of service and not for self-aggrandizement. Jesus was respected and admired because he moved and acted with a profound sense of dignity.  He had no need to prove anything to anyone or to himself because he had no ego or need for pride.  He is God’s beloved son and this is precisely what we are told in and trough our baptism: you are my beloved son/daughter in whom I am pleased. Yet, humility can only be understood in relationship to one’s experience of love by the Father.  It is only when we experience love that we are willing to live, suffer and sacrifice for God and others.

Fr. Tony Diaz, CMF

21st Sunday of Ordinary Time

 

In today’s gospel Jesus is asked a fascinating question: “Lord, will only a few people be saved?” The Jewish notion that they are the “chosen people” is not unique to them. Almost every religion makes the same claim that they are the “chosen people” and that only they will be saved.  We find this notion among many Catholics as well.  Today’s gospel throws a monkey wrench into this notion of the “chosen people”. Typical of Jesus he does not answer the question he is being asked, but rather redirects the question to something more important.  All religions have a fascination in trying to create demarcation lines to decide who is saved and who is not.  We often want to tell God where these demarcation lines are and to act accordingly. Yet, in today’s gospel Jesus avoids being cornered and having to draw any demarcation lines.  The decision of who is saved and who is not belongs to God alone, not to us. And so Jesus redirects the question to where it belongs: “Strive to enter through the narrow gate”. To strive with God’s grace is our responsibility and calling, the rest belongs to God.

Then Jesus gives us a vision of God’s Kingdom that should give us a lot to meditate and contemplate. The vision is of the master of the house locking up the door. And “then will you stand outside knocking and saying, ‘Lord, open the door for us.’”  Who are the “you”?  Are these the “you” that claim they are the “chosen” or the “saved”? The master of the house does not seem to recognize them even when they say, “we ate and drank in your company, and you taught in our streets.” He tells them, “I do not know where you are from. Depart from me, all you evildoers!” Are you, we, some of these “you” who are left on the outside of the Kingdom? “And there will be wailing and grinding of teeth, … and you yourselves cast out.” The “wailing” is the desperate hopelessness of finding ourselves on the outside, and “grinding of teeth” may be the rage and anger at finding others, especially those whom we have condemned, in the inside, in God’s Kingdom.

The vision that Jesus provides closes with, “and people will come from the east and the west and from the north and the south and will recline at table in the kingdom of God.” Notice that Jesus places no labels (Jewish, Gentile, Greek, etc.) or categories on who the ones coming from the East, West, North, and South are.  All those who strive to do the will of God; all those who strive to enter through the narrow door enter the God’s Kingdom. And who they are (Christian, Jewish, Muslim, etc.) is known only to God. The Church does not exist to create boundaries and demarcation lines as to who is saved and who is not.  What a frightening possibility to find ourselves left out of the Kingdom and to be told: “I do not know you.  Depart from me!”

Fr. Tony Diaz, CMF

20th Sunday of Ordinary Time

 

Images of sports and competitions are everywhere around us. So, the sport image for the life of faith that the second reading from Hebrews gives us is very appropriate for us this Sunday.  The author encourages us to “persevere in running the race that lies before us.”  We are not alone in the race, “we are surrounded by a so great cloud of witnesses.” These witnesses are not merely spectators around us, but fellow runners in the same race with us.  They encourage us to persevere by their witness of life of faith.  This is the nature of a community of faith, to support one another.  Like athletes we are to remove all obstacles to our race.  Notice in sports how athletes wear only what is essential to their sports in order to move with the least amount of hindrance.  What are the hindrances in your life that prevent you from living your faith more effortlessly? Notice also how the athletes in sports are so sharply focused.  They visualize the competition even before they start. The author of Hebrews encourages us to keep our eyes focused on Jesus.  Jesus is not only the goal, but also the inspiration for he himself also ran the race.

Our ancestors in the Old Testament only had the promise, but the community of the Kingdom, the time we are now living, has the fulfillment of that promise in Jesus.  Jesus is the “leader and perfecter of faith.”  He models for us faithfulness, trust and intimacy with God.  And even though he was nailed to a cross, an instrument of torture and shame, he removed the shamed of the cross and transformed it into an instrument of salvation.  The cross, suffering, and life itself, seen through the mind and heart of Jesus, become sources of strength as we persevere in faithfulness and trust in the new reality called God’s Kingdom.  Jesus’ own life models perseverance in the midst of his passion so that “we may not grow weary and lose heart.”

Yet, this Sunday’s gospel leaves us with a troubling image of division that is hard to reconcile with Jesus.  “Do not think that I have come to establish peace on the earth? No, I tell you, but rather division.” These words are in contrast to the other declarations where Jesus offers peace to us (Luke 2:14; 7:50; 8:48, 10:5-6; Acts 10:36). There are some that will reject Jesus and what he offers.  But there is a choice that must be made as to whether we accept the Kingdom and its implications or we stand against it.  Eventually, we must take sides; we must live with the consequences of following Jesus and the values of the Kingdom.  Jesus was no stranger to the experience of division.  Many within his own community rejected him, his own family did not understand him at the beginning, and even his own disciples abandoned him in his hour of need.  However, he never lost sight of the Kingdom.  He trusted the One who sent him and he asks us to also trust on him and the Kingdom he reveals to us.

Fr. Tony Diaz, CMF

19th Sunday of Ordinary Time