Search

Results

Exploring the word

18 Nov 2012 - Thirty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle B

You don’t need the cover of the bulletin to tell you what time it is, at least according to the liturgical calendar. Ordinary Time never comes to a close with a whimper but with an apocalypse. When we hear Daniel envisioning the arrival of Michael, the archangel of the last battle, we know Judgment is on its way. It’s “a time unsurpassed in distress since nations began,” and so on, and so on. But seriously, when was it ever different for the people of Israel? Take your pick: slavery in Egypt, conquest by Assyria, exile in Babylon, the freedom-fighting of the Maccabees (which, by the way, is what the Book of Daniel is really all about), Roman oppression—heck, it’s just about always “a time unsurpassed in distress” in Bible stories. The only other kind of “time” is dismissed in a sentence: “The nation was at peace.” “There was great joy that day.” What more needs to be said when things are going well? Yet before long it's time to turn back the dial to unprecedented turmoil and cue the angel of destruction. Jesus follows the traditional script pretty closely. Sun, moon, and stars are disrupted in their normal astrologically significant courses, and angels report for end-time duty. But elsewhere Jesus cautions his disciples not to wait for such signs or to put much stock in them. God’s intentions are still whispered as they were to prophets. To learn all you need to know, Jesus says, pay attention to the trees. The trees? If you’ve ever visited an old-growth forest, or if you’ve made friends with a tree as a child, you don’t need to be persuaded that there’s lots we can learn from trees. Tree stories create their own canopy of truth under which salvation history unfolds: the testing tree in Eden, the gopher wood of Noah’s ark, Abraham’s terebinth at Mamre, Moses’ burning bush, the acacia that frames the Ark of the Covenant, Elijah’s broom tree in the desert, the cedars of Lebanon used to build the Temple, Zacchaeus’s sycamore, the huge tree produced by the tiny mustard seed, the withered fig, the olive trees under which Jesus wept, and the fateful tree that produced the cross. The story of our faith seems to swing from tree to tree. There are specimens on this planet right now that have seen empires come and go, redwoods born at the time of Jesus, bristlecone pines that were hundreds of years old at the time of Abraham. Can we speak of the wisdom of trees, or their silent testimony in the face of human history? Jesus says a tree can tell time. A budding tree says summer is near, and it will never lie to you. Maybe that is why so many report that they find a natural church in the woods. It could be that the trees are more practiced in prayer than we are. Related scripture links Examples of apocalypse in the OT: Isa. 6:1-8; 13:1-11; chs. 24-27; Dan. 7; most of Ezek. and Zech. Jesus and the end-times: Matt. 10:16-33; 24:3-44; Luke 17:20-37; 21:7-36 Paul and eschatology: Rom. 13:11-14; 1 Cor. 15:20-28, 50-56; 1 Thess. 4:13-17 Like a weaned child: Ps. 131 Catechism links Creation and us: CCC 198; 279-314; 337-349; 668; 2115-2117; 2415-2418

Authors Alice Camille

judgment day trees

Restricted
Exploring the word

13 Nov 2011 - Thirty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle A

“CHILDREN LIKE OLIVE plants around your table” may sound like a modern nightmare. Who can afford to feed, house, clothe, and educate the huge Catholic families of yesteryear? Yet the psalmist presents the wisdom of the ages when he reveals that wealth is not in what we carry in our wallets today but in how thoroughly we invest resources in the future. Think about it: If we trash the air, water, and soil in this generation to make a profit, we’ve condemned ourselves and our children to a grim and endangered existence. If we exploit the natural riches of smaller, poorer countries, we gain wealth—and multiply future enemies. If we act on the international scene like isolationists, we may well find ourselves isolated in an hour of need we don’t yet see. In our personal lives, too, we may take advantage of others to pursue what seems in our best interests now, not recognizing that our manipulation of them may lead to temporary advantages but also bitter relationships that end badly. When we sink our investments into short-term goals like material wealth or personal ambition, we may get what we ask for—and find it entirely inadequate, like the fellow who buries his valuables only to retrieve them in the precise measures he hid them, and no more. The parable Jesus tells makes the point that these resources are not ours to begin with but on loan from a rightful Owner who expects them back one day—with dividends on display. How do we face Judgment Day and hope to answer for a depleted environment, avoidable famines, unnecessary wars, hardened divisions in society, and the unanswered cries of millions of suffering neighbors? “Peace and security,” as Saint Paul reminds us, is never what we think it is. We thought we had it when the economy was on the upswing and everyone had wildly inflated house values; we didn’t. We thought we had it before 9/11 when the United States seemed invincible; it wasn’t. We thought being the world’s only superpower in the American Century meant we could write our own ticket for the future of the globe; we couldn’t. Peace and security, it turns out, has little to do with what we held in our hands or put in the bank. Among the most basic teachings of Christianity is that spiritual wealth outshines our present resources from here to eternity and back. Parochial school children were once advised to do good works on earth in order to “add jewels to our crowns in heaven.” This simplistic image didn’t translate well into adult responsibility; more’s the pity. If eternity is too far out there to consider, we can start with elevating our sights on the horizon of the foreseeable future. Genuine value always has one foot into tomorrow. Related scripture links Hidden gifts in ordinary people: Gen. 12:1-3, 16:1-16; 1 Sam. 16:1-13; Luke 1:26-38, 23:39-43 Vocations according to Paul: 1 Cor. 12:27-28 Spiritual gifts according to Paul: 1 Cor. 12:4-11 Fruits of the Spirit: Gal. 5:22-23 Catechism links Vocation: CCC 1-3; 543; 825; 1695 Spiritual fruits: CCC 736; 1832 Day of the Lord: CCC 668-679; 2849 Talents: CCC 546; 1720; 1936; 2683

Authors Alice Camille

catholic family Wealth judgment day economy

Restricted
Exploring the word

23 Oct 2011 - Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle A

Life is complicated, but religion doesn’t have to be. If you can’t recite the Ten Commandments, list the nine Choirs of Angels, explain the reason we have Octaves, name the seven Capital Sins—or the six Precepts of the Church, five books of the Pentateuch, four gospel Evangelists, three major prophets, what was made on the second day of Creation, or know why there’s a partridge in the doggone pear tree at Christmastime, it’s OK! The salvation of your immortal soul doesn’t depend on the acquisition of a lot of information. What it all comes down to, according to Jesus, is quite simple: Love God, and love one another. If we do that, the rest of the details take care of themselves. That isn’t to diss the catechetical ministry, upon which some of us, including me, make our bread and butter. Education is helpful in every aspect of life, and religious education enriches us for the tasks of our lives by enlarging our understanding. Learning feeds the heart and soul as well as the mind, which in turn equips us for the task of loving. It’s all good. But nobody flunks Christianity 101 by not being able to list all 20 mysteries of the Rosary on short notice. (I’m usually stuck on at least two myself, and I wrote a book about them.) Religion isn’t a memory game, and the final exam, if you remember Matthew 25, doesn’t include data retrieval of any kind (with regrets to your Confirmation teacher). By the time we get to Judgment Day we discover we’ve already handed in our work. And the work, as it happens, exclusively involves how much and in how many ways we’ve shared our love. Jesus wasn’t tossing a game-changer at the scholar who questioned him. The law of God was always about love, if we paid attention to the passage from Exodus—or just about any passage of the law and prophets. These “new” commandments merely summarize and abbreviate all that’s gone before, Jesus says. In John’s gospel, of course, Jesus further distills the teaching to one command: Love one another. He’s not eliminating the obligation to love God but acknowledging that the way God wants to be loved is through demonstrations of care for each other. We live on a small planet, as we’re beginning to appreciate in this century as never before. There’s no room for hate on this little world of ours, nor indifference to the plight of anyone, no matter how different or far away. How much less, then, can we afford to turn our hearts from the people closest to us: spouses, family members, fellow parishioners, neighbors, coworkers, fellow citizens, and resident noncitizens. Love is what we’re here for. Let’s get to work. Related scripture links Loving the law: Deut. 6:4-6; Ps. 1:1-3; Ps. 119; Sir. 39:1-11; Jer. 31:33; Ezek. 36:26-27; Heb. 10:16 Love God unreservedly: Deut. 6:5 Love your neighbor as yourself: Lev. 19:18 Love God with your strength, too: Mark 12:30; Luke 10:27 Catechism links Sins against the neighbor: CCC 1867 The Decalogue: CCC 707-710; 1961-1964; 2056-2074 Jesus and the law: CCC 577-582; 1824; 1965-1974 The Great Commandment: CCC 2052-2055; 2083

Authors Alice Camille

religious education love god judgment day love your neighbor law of god

Restricted
Exploring the word

24 Apr 2016 - Fifth Sunday of Easter, Cycle C

The closest thing to apocalypse most of us will experience in this life is falling in love. In the biblical Apocalypse, God reveals the great mystery at the end of time in these terms: “Behold, I make all things new.” Is there a human experience that refreshes our mortality as completely, and radiantly, as being utterly lost to love? We think of Apocalypse as the worst thing that could possibly happen. It’s envisioned as a sort of Big Bang in reverse: the unraveling of reality as we know it. The scenario includes monsters, warfare, explosions, and anarchy. No more utilities delivered to the home; no more Starbucks on the corner. We’re talking desperate times, folks. Apocalyptic literature intends to persuade us that all is lost, at least from the perspective of human efforts. Apocalypse is the revelation of what’s been hidden, remember. When the masks come off and we see good and evil as they truly are, it won’t be pretty. But Apocalypse doesn’t lead to despair for people of faith. It merely redirects our gaze to heaven, where the only authority powerful enough to save us awaits our attention. And what awaits us in that heavenward glance is not harrowing. When all is lost in mortal terms, God is prepared to make all things new. Who wouldn’t hand off this ailing society of ours for the communion of saints in a heartbeat? Who wouldn’t surrender a relentless history of warfare for the Prince of Peace? Who wouldn’t trade the Ten Commandments for the Law of Love? The final revelation is that everything bad can be restored to original goodness in the end. Do we believe this? For many of us, Judgment Day convened over a bottomless pit of hot coals makes more sense. Maybe it’s because we know human nature so well. We are it. So we need Apocalypse to be the “door into the terrible,” as Catholic novelist Mary Gordon calls it. Many of us would like our enemies to burn, all the evil folk who make history such a burden and misery to the many. We hold onto the door to the terrible because we want a place or a time where the anguish of the world will find its answer, where justice (on our terms) will be served once and for all. But what if John’s vision is right? What if human history is the door to the terrible? What if, after passing through the agony of this life—after wars and cancers and injustices and losses too many to count or to bear—what if God’s great revelation to us is simply love, which restores all things to wholeness, newness, and happiness? If that’s the door we anticipate, who’s willing to walk down the path of such love today? Related scripture links Barnabas sponsors Paul: Acts 9:26-28 First missionary journey: Acts 13:1-14:28 Making things new: Jer. 31:31-34; Ezek. 11:19-20; 36:26-28; 2 Pet. 3:13 Separation of Paul and Barnabas: Acts 15:36-41

Authors Alice Camille

judgment day apocalypse

Restricted
Exploring the word

24 Apr 2016 - Fifth Sunday of Easter, Cycle C (sample issue)

sample issue Testimonial: “I always find the content insightful, concise and clear.” ~ Fr. Paul, Queensland, Australia The closest thing to apocalypse most of us will experience in this life is falling in love. In the biblical Apocalypse, God reveals the great mystery at the end of time in these terms: “Behold, I make all things new.” Is there a human experience that refreshes our mortality as completely, and radiantly, as being utterly lost to love? We think of Apocalypse as the worst thing that could possibly happen. It’s envisioned as a sort of Big Bang in reverse: the unraveling of reality as we know it. The scenario includes monsters, warfare, explosions, and anarchy. No more utilities delivered to the home; no more Starbucks on the corner. We’re talking desperate times, folks. Apocalyptic literature intends to persuade us that all is lost, at least from the perspective of human efforts. Apocalypse is the revelation of what’s been hidden, remember. When the masks come off and we see good and evil as they truly are, it won’t be pretty. But Apocalypse doesn’t lead to despair for people of faith. It merely redirects our gaze to heaven, where the only authority powerful enough to save us awaits our attention. And what awaits us in that heavenward glance is not harrowing. When all is lost in mortal terms, God is prepared to make all things new. Who wouldn’t hand off this ailing society of ours for the communion of saints in a heartbeat? Who wouldn’t surrender a relentless history of warfare for the Prince of Peace? Who wouldn’t trade the Ten Commandments for the Law of Love? The final revelation is that everything bad can be restored to original goodness in the end. Do we believe this? For many of us, Judgment Day convened over a bottomless pit of hot coals makes more sense. Maybe it’s because we know human nature so well. We are it. So we need Apocalypse to be the “door into the terrible,” as Catholic novelist Mary Gordon calls it. Many of us would like our enemies to burn, all the evil folk who make history such a burden and misery to the many. We hold onto the door to the terrible because we want a place or a time where the anguish of the world will find its answer, where justice (on our terms) will be served once and for all. But what if John’s vision is right? What if human history is the door to the terrible? What if, after passing through the agony of this life—after wars and cancers and injustices and losses too many to count or to bear—what if God’s great revelation to us is simply love, which restores all things to wholeness, newness, and happiness? If that’s the door we anticipate, who’s willing to walk down the path of such love today? Related scripture links Barnabas sponsors Paul: Acts 9:26-28 First missionary journey: Acts 13:1-14:28 Making things new: Jer. 31:31-34; Ezek. 11:19-20; 36:26-28; 2 Pet. 3:13 Separation of Paul and Barnabas: Acts 15:36-41

Authors Alice Camille

judgment day apocalypse
Homily stories

20 Nov 2011 - Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe, Cycle A

Out of Howard Hawks' epic Western Red River comes one of the great lines of filmdom, spoken by Walter Brennan to John Wayne: "You was wrong, Mr. Dunson." As you can imagine, the Duke's character, Mr. Dunson, isn't used to anyone telling him he's wrong. If it had been anyone else but his faithful sidekick, Dunson would surely have shot his judger dead. Instead, Dunson ends up realizing just what a fool he's been and in true Hollywood fashion everyone reconciles, and we are graced with a happy ending. Today's gospel doesn't paint such a rosy picture for the final scene in our lives. Jesus warns us that those of us who don't get it right--the stubborn goats in the crowd--are going to be punished. But the problem is, we don't have Walter Brennan standing over our shoulders watching our every move and letting us know when we've really messed up. Some will try to tell us, but they may not always know the full story. We may even sense our most grievous sins ourselves, but ultimately we have no foofproof means of assessing and judging our human behavior as we head toward judgment day. In fact, the only way to be sure of inheriting God's Kingdom is to do God's work of love. On judgment day, we'll be placed to God's right if we've done right by others. Why delay? Go and do the right thing.

Authors Patrice J. Tuohy

god's work judgment day john wayne kingdom

Restricted
Exploring the word

17 Feb 2019 - Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle C

There are two kinds of people, as the saying usually begins. And scripture tends to bear this out with numerous points of comparisons between the just and the wicked, or the wise person and the fool. Today’s readings cluster around the contrasting of those who are blessed versus those who are cursed. Although such black-and-white distinctions seem harsh in our typically grey perception of reality, biblical language is quite clear that we must expect a time of foreclosure known as Judgment Day, when the tipping point has been reached and the chance to change our course is behind us. Judgment Day can be variously interpreted as simply the end of our lives, or more emphatically the end of time and world itself. Jesus spoke of his “hour” as both a kind of revelation and also a proving ground for who he was. Maybe we can think of Judgment as our “hour,” when we find out who we truly are based on the summation of all our choices. But many of us would certainly like to end the suspense and know as soon as possible what may be the last word on the subject of us. If you want to take your spiritual pulse right now, the prophet Jeremiah suggests, it’s fairly easy. If you place your trust in people and things, you’ll be sorry. If your trust is in God, you have nothing to fear. Second opinions, anyone? The prophetic and wisdom traditions both agree that the issue of which side you’re on is cut-and-dried. You’re either a “barren bush in the desert that enjoys no change of season, but stands in a lava waste” (which can’t be good), or you’re a “tree planted beside the waters that shows no distress even in the year of drought” (which sounds much better). The only difference is whether your hope is rooted in God. All other distinguishing factors are meaningless. So your accumulated stuff doesn’t matter, and your good deeds won’t make the grade. You can’t brownnose your way through this one just because you go to church, behave yourself, and write a check to the missions once in a while. Ultimately, you either trust in this world, your personal and spiritual resources, and the good opinion of others, or you place your confidence in God alone. What makes this good news is that it’s a path available to anyone. Even the diehard sinner can do this and end up planted next to the saints in heaven by that selfsame stream of living water. This news tends to make diehard sinners very happy and everybody else a little disgruntled. You mean, all that straight-and-narrow living doesn’t buy any perks in the hereafter? You mean God doesn’t owe me anything for passing up some great near occasions of sin? Exactly. The Beatitudes weigh in Trust in God, but tie your camel, the old Arab proverb advises. Trusting in God does not mean living like an idiot and taking foolish chances. Jesus advised his disciples similarly, “You must be wise as serpents, and innocent as doves.” He also said if you build your house on sand, don’t be surprised when it washes away. The word used here is not simply sand, but a veritable wash: Don’t build your house where the water habitually comes, or you are asking for trouble! Jesus took his own advice when he met the devil in the desert. The devil urged him to throw himself off a pinnacle and to trust that God would keep him safe. That’s not a working definition of trusting in God, Jesus assured Satan. That’s called tempting God! What Jesus means by trusting in God is evident in the listing of the Beatitudes. Those who trust in God live out of the conviction that being poor, needy, sad, or despised now is the smallest and least important part of the story. What awaits those who suffer these conditions faithfully now is the day of restoration in the reign of God. Of course, the reverse is necessarily true. Those who are comfortable, content, and well-received now will be bitterly disappointed if they bank on their present happiness. In the reign of God, those who counted on their own resources will find themselves penniless and wanting. Applying the word Trust is a verb Somehow our idea of trusting in God has been reduced to a vague sentimental feeling, a soft emotion we keep next to our lucky socks and rabbit’s foot. Or perhaps it’s more like playing the celestial stock market. We put our trust in God in the waiting room at the hospital. But if we don’t get the results we wanted, we become outraged that God has been untrustworthy. This isn’t trust: This is making just another worldly investment and anticipating a worldly outcome. Saint Paul defined Christian hope down to precisely one element: our faith in the Resurrection. Either it’s real, or we’re fools to share in the story of the church. Either Christ has been raised, or death is the winner-take-all at the end of history. Confidence in the Risen One is the barometer of our trust in the Lord. We have to place all our hopes in the big one, the contest between death’s finality and life unending. Because eternal life is the only thing worthy of our hope, when you come right down to it. Everything else goes to rust, moths, and decay, and in surprisingly short order. Those who trust in God are blessed, and those who don’t get a bad case of Lucan woes. This isn’t just God playing Santa Claus at the end-times, by the way: It’s a reality check. If we trust in God, we get the eternal happiness that only God can offer. And if we cling to the world, we get the world, complete with its expiration date. God takes our free will very seriously. It would be good if we did, too, and examined our choices more carefully. Related scripture links Wise as serpents: Matt. 10:16 Don’t build in a wash: Matt. 7:24-27; Luke 6:47-49 Jesus spars with the devil: Matt 4:1-11; Luke 4:1-13 Moths, rust, and other trouble: Matt: 6:19-21; Luke 12:33-34

Authors Alice Camille

judgment day end times Trust beatitudes choices free will

Restricted
Exploring the word

04 Oct 2020 - Twenty-seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle A

Who among us has never yearned for a get-rich-quick scheme that really works? Many of us confine our longing to our daydreams. But some buy lottery tickets and hope against the odds. Others may gamble in casinos on holidays. Still others invest in stocks that promise to yield astronomical profits. Some of us may have even taken correspondence courses to train for up-and-coming fields that allegedly will pay astounding salaries as demand for services increases. The lure of wealth is so great, a very few will even seek their fortune in strategically chosen marriages. Most of those who seek to get rich quickly will fail miserably. They will lose money, focus, and maybe even family as their obsession overtakes reason and resources. A man in my old neighborhood lost everything as a result of his dedication to winning rather than working. He went bust; the bank foreclosed; somebody else got his house at cost. His wife went back to her family in Georgia. My former neighbor ended up living in his truck and cruising past his old house eyeing it wistfully. The scheme of the vineyard tenants Like most get-rich-quick schemes, the plan of the vineyard tenants in today’s parable is wildly improbable. They’ve been laboring on someone else’s land and bringing the grapes to fruition over a season or more. The contract all along has been to turn the harvest over to the landowner when the produce is ready. But as the grapes become more desirable it occurs to the workers that they’d like to keep the harvest for themselves. Why not? A reasonable person might give a dozen good responses why not. But the tenants, we understand, are not reasonable people. They are greedy people, and greed makes us all stupid when we surrender ourselves to its addictive power. All the tenants can think of is how wonderful it would be to profit from these grapes, to make their own wine, and to hold on to this fertile land indefinitely. They actually talk themselves into the fantasy that they might legitimately possess the land if the son and heir were out of the way. To achieve their ends, they are willing to commit violence, even to become murderers. These tenants don’t only lose perspective. They also lose themselves: their innocence, their good names, and all righteousness due them for the work they once did. Greed turns them into criminals. And far from possessing the dream of wealth, they face the possibility of losing their very lives in judgment for their actions. So ends the very sad tale of the vineyard tenants. Three parables about judgment The story of the tenants is the second of three Matthean parables in a row on the same theme. The first parable we heard last week in the story of the sons who said one thing and did another. The final one we’ll hear next week regarding the king’s wedding banquet. All three parables are about judgment day and how we are held accountable for the poor choices we make. The circumstances of our failures may be different but the outcome is the same. Sometimes we’re simply not true to our promises; at other times we don’t live up to basic expectations; there are times when we fail to make an appearance at all. In each of these stories, the result is predictable. The one who is faithful to the call will be rewarded, and the one who does not respond will be sorry. Jesus did not seek complexity in the stories he told. He preferred clarity, drawing his characters in a few words and sharply outlining their choices. In the parable of the tenants, we meet the landowner and quickly come to an impression of him: determined, purposeful, resourceful, planting his vines and preparing for their nurturing and defense. Then we meet the tenants and come to an ugly and shocking assessment of them. Instead of doing what’s expected of them, they abuse their position and the messengers who are sent to them in good faith. The landowner continues to give them chances to show their respect and honor of his request and the tenants consistently demonstrate how dishonorable they are, down to the murder of the owner’s son. In the end, the original listeners were forced to come to the same conclusion we arrive at today when we listen to this story: These bad tenants do not deserve sympathy or mercy. They deserve the ultimate retribution for what they did. Applying the word Finding the good news The gospel proclamation is by definition good news, so when we hear a passage that seems so dark, we have to look again to find the message of hope. The hope here is in the vineyard itself, the traditional biblical image for God’s people. God’s people are precious, worth rescuing from Egypt and transplanting to a promised land, as the psalmist tells us. Isaiah’s song of the vineyard reminds us of the trouble God has gone through for the sake of this people, who are variously called “beloved” and “friends” in the Hebrew passage. These words suggest that the vineyard is not mere property to an absentee owner, but dearly cherished by a creator who is more lover than farmer in relationship to this harvest. The disappointment of God is also reported like that of a lover for the unfaithful beloved: anger, rejection, and withdrawal are the results when the bountiful acts of love are neither acknowledged nor reciprocated. The real tragedy of the tenants’ parable is that these folks schemed to get rich quick, never realizing the wealth that was already theirs—just like my neighbor who had a wife and a home and lost both in pursuit of a dream of idle riches. These tenants had been chosen by the vineyard owner to live in the land and care for the beloved vine. It was a privileged position, destined for reward, and they forfeited everything they’d already been given in their irrational quest for more. Clinging to worldly wealth and advantage, we, too, can miss the boundless riches of being the people of God to whom the Kingdom itself is given. If we work for this benevolent Kingdom now, we will share in the joy of the harvest in the world that has no end. Related scripture links Vine as symbol of God’s people: Ps. 128:3; Jer. 2:21, 6:9, 8:13, 12:10-11; Ezek. 15:1-8, 19:10-14; Hos. 10:1, 14:8 Jesus as vine and disciples as branches: John 15:1-6

Authors Alice Camille

Wealth get rich quick schemes parable of the tenants greed poor choices judgment day

Restricted
Exploring the word

22 Nov 2020 - Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe, Cycle A

Are we good people or bad people? Many of us would readily identify with our good side. Occasionally we are impatient or selfish or deceitful, it’s true. But basically we are honest, decent, hardworking people who wouldn’t dream of doing something criminal or morally objectionable. We are faithful to our families and our commitments in all the ways that really matter. Those of us who are slower to jump to the defense of our goodness may suffer from scrupulosity, the tendency to find fault with ourselves out of a reservoir of guilt that infects everything we do without objectivity. The bottom line is, most of us in our heart of hearts believe we are fundamentally on the side of the sheep and not the goats in the final analysis known as Judgment Day. By what measurement do we come to this conclusion? We may be comparing ourselves with the performance of our neighbors and saying, “I would never treat my kids like that. Or my dog, or my lawn. I would never use that kind of language, or show so much anger, or be so irresponsible with money or my job.” These kinds of comparisons may make us feel righteous, but they tell us very little about how we might appear before God. Unless God is using a bell curve these days to determine human justification! Some of us may also be using the yardstick of the Ten Commandments or church laws or even civil ones to assess our personal virtue. If we’ve kept these obligations and refrained from breaking these prohibitions, isn’t that enough to get in the celestial door? If heaven were a game to be won, perhaps. But Jesus broadened the criteria for his followers when he made the Love Command a higher and more binding principle than minimal observance of moral laws. When we’ve fulfilled every jot and tittle of the rules, we’ve only laid the foundation for a lifestyle of loving. With every commandment kept, we’ve yet to build the house. So how do we judge ourselves? When it comes to assessing our performance in the morality department, the best advice is: Don’t. Jesus said, “Judge not lest you be judged,” and that recommendation starts at home. Judgment is a divine prerogative, and whenever we impose a standard on ourselves or others, we’re bound to miscalculate. God alone sees the interior person, so any measure we might take is only skin deep. Within our own skin, of course, we might be able to plumb a little further, but we’re still blinded by the self-preservation of the ego. We exist in a wavering mix of honesty, denial, and ignorance about what motivates us, and only rarely are we granted clear sight about who we are and how deep our love goes. How much of our identity is just for show, and how much of our love is really self-interest? I can understand how saints like Catherine of Genoa, Bridget of Sweden, and Teresa of Ávila might be favored with visions of Purgatory. All any of us lacks is one true glimpse into our own morally confused hearts to witness the crushing need to be purged of so much waste. Divine judgment To say that God is merciful is not to say that nothing we do really matters in the long run. God is not to be confused with an indulgent parent who will let the beloved children get away with murder. Human life is profoundly concerned with right relationship with God. If we cultivate that relationship now, we’ll have it forever, just like a good marriage—which is one of Jesus’ favorite images for this union. If we neglect or outright sever that relationship now, however, we ought not to be surprised when we open the final door and there’s nothing there. How do we nurture our relationship with God, apart from the keeping of the rules? Jesus and the prophets of old both point to our treatment of others. What we do for them, we do for God. The best way to honor the God we don’t see is to honor the sister or brother that we do see. Feed the hungry, give drink to the thirsty, welcome the stranger, clothe the naked, care for the sick, visit the imprisoned, and we will not only have helped a fellow human being, we will have entered into the compassion of God in Christ. Everything else we do in this world is passing, but our communion with the heart of God is eternal. As Saint Paul put it, faith, hope, and love will all remain, but love is the greatest of even these three noble virtues. To these six activities listed in Matthew 25, the church has added a seventh, burying the dead, and wrapped the package together as the corporal works of mercy. As with every useful tool, we can reduce this to a checklist to be satisfied: “Gave five dollars to the missions. Said hi to that homeless guy. Brought old clothes to the Salvation Army. Visited Aunt Bertha at the nursing home, sent a card to incarcerated Uncle Ray, and went to cousin Pete’s funeral. Done!” But like the Love Command, these seven activities are invitations to think more broadly and deeply about how to love others. The farther we journey into them, the more deeply we come into communion with the heart of God. Applying the word Our mercy is the measure The accent on the corporal works of mercy is “mercy.” Feeding the hungry may mean listening to someone to whom no one listens. Giving drink to the thirsty may include offering kind words or praise to those who rarely hear anything positive. Welcoming the stranger often involves countering prejudice with an openness to all God’s children, no matter how different or fearful they may seem. Clothing the naked is also a summons to work for justice so that no one is homeless, unprotected, or denied basic human dignity. Visiting the sick isn’t only necessary when someone has broken an arm—it can also be an invitation to relationship with a family member who has lost his or her way. The imprisoned aren’t only in jail—they are the isolated members of our society who can’t get out of their houses or their poverty or their destructive family patterns or their despair. Burying the dead also implies letting go of the past, its injuries and injustices, and allowing forgiveness to bring healing and wholeness to us and our adversaries. If we want God’s mercy, we have to become God’s mercy. It’s a very simple formula, and now is the right time to take up the practice. Related scripture links Love Command: John 13:15, 34-35 Judge not: Isa. 28:6, 30:18; Matt. 7:1-5; Luke 3:17, 6:37-42; Rom. 2:1-11 God sees the interior: Luke 16:15; Acts 15:8 Weddings, God, and us: Matt. 22:1-14, 25:1-13; Luke 14:7-14, 15-24 Faith, hope, and love: 1 Cor. 13:13

Authors Alice Camille

judgment day corporal works of mercy Love Command

Restricted
Exploring the word

26 Nov 2023 - Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe, Cycle A

Have you ever had to hire someone to work for you? It’s an awful business! Here come the halt and the hopeful, resumes crumpled, palms sweaty, serving time on the death-row-of-the-unemployed. Most of these people will surely not be chosen for rescue, at least not here and not today. They will shuffle away, egos in their pockets, with "reject" stamped on their foreheads. For those who do the hiring, it’s like being God on judgment day. Sheep, thank you for coming. Goats, it was nice knowing you. But some folks don’t mind being in the judgment seat. They like deciding who’s in and who’s out, who’s saved or damned, good or bad, fashionable or laughable. The thumbs-up, thumbs-down brigade are happy to render an opinion on any topic you care to name. Just ask. They’d be pleased to make a judgment call. Other folks, it turns out, are uncomfortable choosing a movie to view. What if they make a mistake? How does one determine entertainment value: Plot lines? Directors? Movie stars? The responsibility of judgment is too daunting. Making choices My brother came to live with me briefly, and during that time we played games of politeness: You first. No, you. What do you want to do? I dunno: What about you? Eventually, my brother put a stop to the game and became decisive. “The bear chooses,” he decreed. The bear, a stuffed animal of surprising volition, had become the sudden arbiter of every decision henceforth. In the story of salvation, of course, there is no bear. Everyone must choose. God has a plan, perhaps, but that plan is really more of a direction, not a blueprint for every second of history. God chooses life, liberty, joy, peace, and mercy. What do we choose? Free will being what it is, we are all holding the remote control right now, determining the best plot for tonight. But in the final hour—last quarter, clock ticking, breath bated—God alone does the choosing. That’s the basic teaching of the Last Judgment. When all is said and done in human history, the divine chooses. God’s choices on Judgment Day are by no means arbitrary and should not surprise us. Ever wonder what God believes in? God believes in free will so much that God’s final choices are no more than a ratification of our choices all along. God won’t pull a rabbit out of a hat in the end times, sending sheep into outer darkness and opening the pearly gate to the goats. What we are choosing now, God will affirm later. A pocket gospel It’s been said that everything you need to know about Christianity is contained in Matthew 25, the story of the final judgment. Tear out this one page of scripture and live your life accordingly! One could certainly do worse than to take these words to heart as a pocket gospel. The formula is simple: To inherit God’s kingdom, take care of the human family. It’s so obvious, every major world religion has thought of it. (The lesser spiritual systems tend to fall apart on this item of social responsibility. If a New Age path is “all about you,” it’s probably not about God.) The bottom line is: God is partial to human beings. Our God is the God who saves, right? And the implication is always that God is saving sinners, the worst of the bunch by any standard. God is so taken by humanity, even in its fallen state, that what we do for others is as good as doing it for God. So if you want eternal life, choose life now. If you want to know the beloved, be a lover yourself. If you’re looking for joy, be a source of joy for others. This is child’s play. As Jesus pointed out, the Kingdom operates at a level that children understand better than we do. The story of the separation of sheep and goats has often been viewed as a threatening one: God’s out to get you at the end of time, like a grim Santa dividing us up into naughty and nice. But the story is really as clear a directive as we get in the New Testament about how to be saved, not condemned. For those who didn’t recognize what righteousness looks like, here it is. For those who were unsure when they were missing graced opportunities to love God, now you know. Do not be in the dark, brothers and sisters, about the day of the Lord. Death is destroyed for those who move in the relentless direction of life. Applying the word Plot lines God has already made a choice, and it’s a choice for us, not against us. We only need to look at the cross to be certain of that. And now it’s our turn, as free creatures, to make our own decision about what kind of world we want to live in, now and forever. A world of kindness, peace, and joy won’t just happen; we have to adopt it through our choices. The hungry don’t get fed and the sick visited in abstract terms, but with names and faces we know and many more we don’t. Welcoming the stranger is often something we can do inside our own homes, as our teenagers morph into punks and our best friends go off to “find themselves” in unpredictable ways. And whenever we do this, we do it for God. Meanwhile today and every day is judgment day. Related scripture links Love Command: John 13:15, 34-35 Judge not: Isa. 28:6, 30:18; Matt. 7:1-5; Luke 3:17, 6:37-42; Rom. 2:1-11 God sees the interior: Luke 16:15; Acts 15:8 Weddings, God, and us: Matt. 22:1-14, 25:1-13; Luke 14:7-14, 15-24 Faith, hope, and love: 1 Cor. 13:13 Catechism links Love Command: 782, 1822-1829, 1970, 2822, 2842 Corporal works of mercy: 2447-2449 Theological virtues: 1812-1832

Authors Alice Camille

judgment seat free will choice last judgment judgment day final judgment

Restricted