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Exploring the word

13 Sep 2015 - Twenty-fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle B

Gospel terms often suggest more than they say. This is true of the repeated phrase “on the way” or “along the way.” We believers know Jesus is himself the Way. He’s the path we’re on and the direction we’re led, if we so choose. When the disciples have an experience along the way, it’s an encounter with Jesus that deepens and illuminates their understanding of their teacher. On the way they’re evolving; it doesn’t presume they’ve arrived where they need to be. The gang of Twelve has miles to go before each earns his respective sleep. You and I are also on the way. Whether or not our way and the Christ-Way are the same way spells out the difference between people of faith and folks who simply go to church. If we’re evolving along this way, broadening our understanding of Jesus and deepening our relationship with him, then we can trust we’re on the Christ road. By no means does it imply we’ve arrived. We have no reason to settle in and get comfortable with the odor of our own sanctity. Case in point: Along one stretch of the way, Jesus asks the disciples to identify him. They know him; they’ve lived with him and listened to him for a while now, but who is he, really? They compare him with iconic religious figures, according to what people are saying. Herald, miracle worker, prophet. No surprises here. Jesus certainly exhibits these characteristics. Peter alone comes up with something new to say: Christ, Messiah, Anointed of God. In Matthew’s account, Peter gets praised for this answer. In Mark, Peter gets a warning not to repeat this. Jesus explains why: Being God’s Anointed doesn’t mean what is popularly expected. Just as the Kingdom sayings are misinterpreted, and the healings and miraculous feedings, events are going in a direction the crowds neither anticipate nor want. The Messiah didn’t come to rule, but to die. Even faithful Peter is repulsed by this teaching and objects strenuously. He doesn’t want this kind of Christ! Along the way, many of us find ourselves bartering for the kind of God we want, the kind that serves our needs or is most convenient to have. In childhood we may be glad to embrace the God who watches the world faithfully and protects us from bad dreams. In adolescence we may prefer the God who backs off and closes his eyes to some of our identity experiments. In adulthood, we waver between wanting a Divine Controller who plans every mile of our route and seeking a Hands-Off Deity who allows us to work out our own destinies. Who is God for you today? Who will you let God be? Related scripture links The inheritance of the meek: Matt. 5:5 Kingdom paradoxes: Mark 4:30-32; 8:35; 10:31, 43-44; Matt. 1:23; 3:14-15; 5:3-12; 10:39; 11:2-6; 18:4; 19:30; 20:16, 26-28; 23:11-12; Luke 1:46-55; 4:18-19; 6:20-28; 7:22; 9:48; 13:30; 14:7-14; 15:32; 18:14; 20:17

Authors Alice Camille

the way

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Sign & sacrament

25 Mar 2012 - Fifth Sunday of Lent, Cycle B

It just seems so unfair that we have to start giving up the things of this life to get the things of eternal life. But that's the deal. With every life comes one and only one guarantee: that it will end in death. Thus the invitation is to get on board now with the whole business of giving up so that we might leave this world empty-handed, not clinging to what is passing away. It's the practice of letting go now that will prepare us for the final let-go. The Lord is concerned only with our welfare, our ultimate well-being. And he shows us the way. He is the way.

the way

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Homily stories

12 Feb 2012 - Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle B

BY THE TIME Saint Paul got to writing to the Corinthians, he was already talking about the "church of God." But how did "the Way" of Jesus become the institutional church? The scholar E. P. Sanders once wrote: "Jesus proclaimed the coming of the kingdom of God, but it was the church that arrived." For some folks, that's a bit of a letdown. Although in the kingdom every tear is wiped away, the church at any point in history might just as often give you reason to cry. So when we say that Jesus established the church, we don't mean he laid down the blueprint for the Vatican. It's more accurate to say that the church finds theological grounding for its present practices in the ministry of Jesus. My theology professors used to point out that Jesus commissioned the disciples to proclaim the gospel to the ends of the earth, but he never told them how. Institutions can tend toward inflexibility and self-preservation and are notoriously resistant to change, but they also develop as vehicles for stability and continuity for something that is meant to last. Leaders must be formed, teachings agreed upon for universal availability, practices set, membership identified, and rules defined. (Adapted from Ask Alice about Catholicism, vocationnetwork.org)

Authors Alice Camille

Saint Paul church the way

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Homily stories

10 Apr 2011 - Fifth Sunday of Lent, Cycle A

Jesus wept. Of course he did. He was human after all. And he lived in a big extended family and had lots of friends. There's no way Jesus could have gotten through life without shedding a tear or two. Jesus wept. Of course he did. He was divine, God's son. He bore the sins of the world on his shoulders. He saw the people who were sick and blind and lame, the people who were outcast and hopeless, caught up in sin and living in tombs. He knew how close the Father longed to be to them yet how far away from God they felt. Of course he wept. And so let us make our homes and churches places where it is safe to authentically laugh and cry, exult and mourn. Let's banish the words, "Don't be a baby" or "Big boys don't cry!" The Evangelist did us all a favor in reporting those two little words, "Jesus wept." Jesus is the Way. Sometimes the Way leads through tears.

the way human nature son of god

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Exploring the word

05 May 2019 - Third Sunday of Easter, Cycle C

The way of the Kingdom bears little resemblance to the way of the law. Its means, its motives, and its goals often move like a crosscurrent against the accepted moral code. The Pharisees and Jesus once had a telling exchange that underscored the difference between these ways. When Jesus entered Jerusalem, the people cried hosannas to the king, which alarmed the religious leaders who feared a riot and ensuing crackdown. So the Pharisees ordered him bluntly, “Teacher, rebuke your disciples!” Being people of the law, they assume that a quick command from the leadership will get the crowds in line. This is the assumption of lawgivers: that obedience is the answer to every conflict, and obedience can be enforced. But in the way of the Kingdom, the coercive power of law is replaced by the persuasive power of love. The human will may choose to lay itself down, but it cannot be throttled into submission. Love is the only command to which the citizen of the Kingdom cheerfully complies. So Jesus replies: “I tell you, if they keep silent, the stones will cry out!” Chances are, as people of the law, the Pharisees found this answer inscrutable. They never learn A few months and one significant crucifixion later, the religious leaders of the Sanhedrin have called the apostles before them. This is not their first post-Easter run-in, which is evident by the remarks of the high priest: “We gave you strict orders, did we not, to stop teaching in that name?” Once again, the law people are at a total loss to comprehend the Kingdom people. The religious leaders actually seem to expect that the apostles would do as they’re told! Peter patiently explains, “We must obey God rather than mortals.” He presents what is by now his soundbite gospel, affirms the call to testify to this, and draws upon the further witness of the Holy Spirit. This is the only testimony Peter offers. It is the same in the court of the Sanhedrin as on the streets of Jerusalem. But of course, this liberating message given so freely has no impact on the people of the law. They repeat the injunction not to teach in “that name” and let the apostles go. Do they really think reissuing the same order will have a different effect this time? Do they really believe they can command a person’s soul by simply insisting? The law of love The people of Israel didn’t need more laws to tell them what to do and how to live. They had the 10 heavy commandments of Moses and the hundreds of accompanying Deuteronomic laws designed to govern their every meal, habit, prayer, and decision. When Saint Paul spoke of this lifestyle from personal experience, he called it a burden. Though once intended to safeguard and uplift the community, the way of law had become a leery navigation through a crushingly narrow passage. Instead of “saving” people from their sins, the law only seemed to confirm how lost they were. Paul, the perfect Pharisee, was the first to recognize the genius of Christianity. The law could never save; it could only compel the same today as yesterday. Strict adherence to the law could never make a person generous, compassionate, or just. The way of the Kingdom toppled worldly values, even the law itself, and established love as the only criteria for fruitful living. After all, it was love that led Jesus to the cross and saved the sinful world in one all-redeeming embrace. For love’s sake, people were emboldened to go far beyond the strictures of law into the freedom of the children of God. Simon, do you love me? The differences between the way of the Kingdom and the way of the law show up in the post-Resurrection appearances of Jesus. If Jesus were a proponent of lawful living, he would have had a few well-chosen words of correction to administer to his followers, who had failed in their allegiances all across the board. But instead, Jesus does what love longs to do: He comforts Mary in the garden, offers peace to his friends huddled in the upper room, goes out of his way to include Thomas, who had excluded himself, and makes breakfast for his friends when they haven’t been able to catch a bite all night. And when Jesus speaks privately to Peter, who is haunted by mortification since his denial, the words are only about love. He doesn’t ask Peter for an apology, a pledge of allegiance, or a testimony of faith. Jesus simply asks, “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” Jesus trusts that if he has Peter’s love, all the rest will be added besides. Peter offers his love three times, vigorously and with no small amount of distress for being asked more than once. In response, Jesus commissions him to serve. No special skills are required beyond love, evidently. Peter’s not much of a fisherman, and there’s no guarantee he’ll make a better shepherd. But his love will cover a multitude of faults, all the way to a glorious death only a lover could embrace. Applying the word What if we loved? What if we loved, instead of insisting on our rights, on what’s due us in matters of fairness, on the submission of others to the letter of law and principle? What if we focused our attention on the mandate to love and didn’t fixate on the response of others around us? What if we expressed our love in service to others, and our own fidelity to that call became the only moral code that concerned us? For too long, religious people have been tempted to cling to rules as a source of justification, as well as a whip and chair to get our neighbors into line or to condemn them in our hearts. Our forgiveness is contingent on apology, and our love is timidly and conditionally given. If love became our starting point, we might end up in quite a surprising place. Related scripture links Rebuke your disciples: Luke 19:39-40 No one takes my life, I lay it down: John 10:17-18 The burden of the law: Rom. 3:20, 4:15, 5:20, 7:7-25, 13:8-10 The freedom of the children of God: Rom. 3:21-31, 7:4-6, 8:14-21 Jesus returns without reproach: John 20:11-21:19

Authors Alice Camille

the way of the kingdom kingdom people law of love the way of the law

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Exploring the word

05 May 2019 - Third Sunday of Easter, Cycle C

The way of the Kingdom bears little resemblance to the way of the law. Its means, its motives, and its goals often move like a crosscurrent against the accepted moral code. The Pharisees and Jesus once had a telling exchange that underscored the difference between these ways. When Jesus entered Jerusalem, the people cried hosannas to the king, which alarmed the religious leaders who feared a riot and ensuing crackdown. So the Pharisees ordered him bluntly, “Teacher, rebuke your disciples!” Being people of the law, they assume that a quick command from the leadership will get the crowds in line. This is the assumption of lawgivers: that obedience is the answer to every conflict, and obedience can be enforced. But in the way of the Kingdom, the coercive power of law is replaced by the persuasive power of love. The human will may choose to lay itself down, but it cannot be throttled into submission. Love is the only command to which the citizen of the Kingdom cheerfully complies. So Jesus replies: “I tell you, if they keep silent, the stones will cry out!” Chances are, as people of the law, the Pharisees found this answer inscrutable. They never learn A few months and one significant crucifixion later, the religious leaders of the Sanhedrin have called the apostles before them. This is not their first post-Easter run-in, which is evident by the remarks of the high priest: “We gave you strict orders, did we not, to stop teaching in that name?” Once again, the law people are at a total loss to comprehend the Kingdom people. The religious leaders actually seem to expect that the apostles would do as they’re told! Peter patiently explains, “We must obey God rather than mortals.” He presents what is by now his soundbite gospel, affirms the call to testify to this, and draws upon the further witness of the Holy Spirit. This is the only testimony Peter offers. It is the same in the court of the Sanhedrin as on the streets of Jerusalem. But of course, this liberating message given so freely has no impact on the people of the law. They repeat the injunction not to teach in “that name” and let the apostles go. Do they really think reissuing the same order will have a different effect this time? Do they really believe they can command a person’s soul by simply insisting? The law of love The people of Israel didn’t need more laws to tell them what to do and how to live. They had the 10 heavy commandments of Moses and the hundreds of accompanying Deuteronomic laws designed to govern their every meal, habit, prayer, and decision. When Saint Paul spoke of this lifestyle from personal experience, he called it a burden. Though once intended to safeguard and uplift the community, the way of law had become a leery navigation through a crushingly narrow passage. Instead of “saving” people from their sins, the law only seemed to confirm how lost they were. Paul, the perfect Pharisee, was the first to recognize the genius of Christianity. The law could never save; it could only compel the same today as yesterday. Strict adherence to the law could never make a person generous, compassionate, or just. The way of the Kingdom toppled worldly values, even the law itself, and established love as the only criteria for fruitful living. After all, it was love that led Jesus to the cross and saved the sinful world in one all-redeeming embrace. For love’s sake, people were emboldened to go far beyond the strictures of law into the freedom of the children of God. Simon, do you love me? The differences between the way of the Kingdom and the way of the law show up in the post-Resurrection appearances of Jesus. If Jesus were a proponent of lawful living, he would have had a few well-chosen words of correction to administer to his followers, who had failed in their allegiances all across the board. But instead, Jesus does what love longs to do: He comforts Mary in the garden, offers peace to his friends huddled in the upper room, goes out of his way to include Thomas, who had excluded himself, and makes breakfast for his friends when they haven’t been able to catch a bite all night. And when Jesus speaks privately to Peter, who is haunted by mortification since his denial, the words are only about love. He doesn’t ask Peter for an apology, a pledge of allegiance, or a testimony of faith. Jesus simply asks, “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” Jesus trusts that if he has Peter’s love, all the rest will be added besides. Peter offers his love three times, vigorously and with no small amount of distress for being asked more than once. In response, Jesus commissions him to serve. No special skills are required beyond love, evidently. Peter’s not much of a fisherman, and there’s no guarantee he’ll make a better shepherd. But his love will cover a multitude of faults, all the way to a glorious death only a lover could embrace. Applying the word What if we loved? What if we loved, instead of insisting on our rights, on what’s due us in matters of fairness, on the submission of others to the letter of law and principle? What if we focused our attention on the mandate to love and didn’t fixate on the response of others around us? What if we expressed our love in service to others, and our own fidelity to that call became the only moral code that concerned us? For too long, religious people have been tempted to cling to rules as a source of justification, as well as a whip and chair to get our neighbors into line or to condemn them in our hearts. Our forgiveness is contingent on apology, and our love is timidly and conditionally given. If love became our starting point, we might end up in quite a surprising place. Related scripture links Rebuke your disciples: Luke 19:39-40 No one takes my life, I lay it down: John 10:17-18 The burden of the law: Rom. 3:20, 4:15, 5:20, 7:7-25, 13:8-10 The freedom of the children of God: Rom. 3:21-31, 7:4-6, 8:14-21 Jesus returns without reproach: John 20:11-21:19

Authors Alice Camille

the way of the kingdom kingdom people law of love the way of the law

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Homily stories

05 Jun 2022 - Solemnity of Pentecost, Cycle C

When my mother was 43 years old, she was diagnosed with a rare cancer that required radical surgery that she had only a 50 percent chance of surviving. I was 12 years old at the time, and not completely sure of all that was happening. I knew my mom was very sick and in a lot of pain. But when my sisters and I sat around her hospital bed with my father the night before her surgery, she seemed so calm. She smiled and kissed each one of us, told us how much she loved us, and made us promise to be “Mommy’s good girls” no matter what happened. Then she said, “Don’t worry. I am not afraid to die.” I knew then as I know now the source of my mother’s courage: her faith. Her belief in the love of God, the mercy of Jesus, and the power of the Spirit was a gift she had accepted when she was a little girl and she never let it go, not even when at the age of 11 she lost her own mother to illness. Luckily for all who knew her, my mother survived her surgery and went on showering us with love and showing us the way of peace for another 34 years.

Authors Patrice J. Tuohy

the way of peace Courage Faith

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Homily stories

10 Dec 2023 - Second Sunday of Advent, Cycle B

Family members were on edge. A beloved aunt had died, and all her grown nieces and nephews were gathered in her home to figure out how to dispose of her lifetime of belongings. You could feel the tension in the room. Old hurts were close to the surface. Fear reigned in everyone’s heart as they worried that they would not get their due. And, though they didn’t realize it at the time, fueling all the fear and tension was the pain of having lost someone who had always loved them so well. Then cousin Ella held up a fancy old parasol. “Remember how she always used to bring this down to the beach when we were playing in the sand?” Chuckles filled the room and the fear began to evaporate. Fred chimed in, “And remember how she used to dress up so elegantly just to go play bingo?” Smiles and tears mingled as the stories tumbled out. A lifetime of stories, this was the real treasure to be shared. The scripture readings this week all deal with change—radical change. We are called upon to be like John the Baptist and “prepare the way of the Lord.” In our homes and workplaces we do that in many ways. It may be a gentle joke, an insightful comment, a request for forgiveness, standing up for truth, or even a gesture like a hug or a pat on the back. But in that moment, everything changes. The rough places have been made smooth.

Authors Tom McGrath

radical change prepare the way of the Lord

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