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Exploring the word

23 Feb 2014 - Seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle A

I make a perfect ratatouille. Seriously, I do. My ratatouille makes believers out of everybody, even carnivores who have a natural horror of vegetable dishes. Take one step away from ratatouille, though, and the perfection meter on my accomplishments wavers. By the time you get down the list—to my performance with machines that don't work on command or my inability to aim a ball toward any target in any sport—and you’re worlds beyond perfection and into the land of error and shame. I deeply regret there’s so little perfection to be expected from me. I want to be better than I am, especially when it comes to setting a good example. Ancient Israel’s code was to accept God’s standard for their own. Because God is holy, the people were meant to exemplify that same holiness as a nation. What God is, they should be. No excuses. There shouldn’t be a hair of difference between theology and moral obligation. The divine law was given to them to achieve this end, to get personal and communal ducks in a row. Some people, like Saint Paul, were good at keeping this law: not only the Big Ten Commandments but also the 613 smaller ones that followed. Perfection in the law, however, didn’t guarantee a perfect heart, as was obvious when Paul rejected the revelation of Jesus and set out to hand over Christian believers for execution. Later, after he embraced the cross of Christ, Paul became less interested in the way of moral perfection and more concerned about proclaiming the fabulous mercy of God. He was happier to confess his weaknesses than to boast of his strengths. Faith in Christ made the goal of his life dramatically different. It wasn’t about becoming just like God. It was about trusting in God to make up the shortfall between divine standards and his failures. That doesn’t mean you can stop trying to be a better person. While it’s clear to family and friends that we're not perfect people, because of our deep love for them we strive every day to keep our irritation in check and our courage high. In the absence of love, many are tempted to surrender good behavior in favor of animal instinct. Why control my temper or refrain from eating all the doughnuts when it's all about me? As soon as love enters the picture, there's a reason to be gracious, generous, and good. The ancient law wasn’t wrong. Those who love God should embrace divine standards. Loving enemies as well as friends, responding with benevolence to those who show malice, is not the human way; but it is the divine way, and when you stumble on this path, Paul is right, too: God's forgiveness is guaranteed. Related scripture links Be holy and perfect: Exod. 19:6; Lev. 11:44-45; 19:2; 20:7-8, 24-26; Num. 15:40-41; Deut. 14:2; Jas. 1:4; 1 Pet. 1:16 Temples of the Spirit: 1 Cor. 6:19; 2 Cor. 6:16; Eph. 2:19-22 Those who think themselves wise: Isa. 5:21; Gal. 6:3 Love your neighbor as yourself: Matt. 5:43; 19:19; 22:39; Mark 12:31; Rom. 13:9; Gal. 5:14; Jas. 2:8; 1 Jn. 3:14 Catechism links Love of enemies: 1825; 2608; 2647; 2844 Jesus and the church as temples of God: 797-798; 1179

Authors Alice Camille

Forgiveness Divine law perfection

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Exploring the word

20 Feb 2011 - Seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle A

AS CHILDREN MOST of us believed in perfection as an attainable goal. Maybe not our own particular perfection (I was never going to get an A in science!), but the finish line was clearly marked out and someone was going to cross it. We were literally schooled into the quest for perfection: defined as an A+, or 100 percent answered correctly, or the coveted 4.0 at the end of the term. I could tell you quite dispassionately back then who was perfect and how: Patty was the kindest, Henry the smartest, Ed the fastest, Bernadette the holiest in the class. And I probably don’t need to tell you who was going to win the writer’s medal. Back when perfection came marked with a letter grade, it was a straightforward matter as to how to get there from here. But no one, as I remember, was good at everything. Henry was clearly Einstein-brilliant; he’s a doctor today. But he was a dunce at poetry and a social prig to boot. My report card was evenly divided between A’s and C’s: ask me if I cared about social studies or phys. ed. To be perfect at everything—perfect at perfection—would be liking combining Patty, Henry, Ed, and Bernadette into one superchild! It would be like being God. That was Jesus’ point exactly when he said: Don’t imitate each other, or compete against each other. Imitate God and make divine perfection your only standard. Our Lord is not trying to be difficult; he only takes after his Father, if Leviticus is any indication. For there God tells Moses: “Be holy—because I am,” and goes on to delineate 613 ways that perfection is measured according to Deuteronomic law. The lectionary here chooses to highlight one: Love your neighbor as yourself. That’s poignant for us, because Jesus makes the same choice in his teaching: Love God and love your neighbor. Are we to embrace that as the new definition of perfection? The summons to be perfect sounds exhausting. Just being presentable takes a lot out of me some days. Far from wanting a challenge, most of us, to be honest, are hoping for a break. Gone are the days when our progress through life was measured and recorded at every turn: how tall were we, how many tests did we pass, whether we were eligible for Confirmation that spring? We’d like to mail in a few days a week now, answer “present” at work, and hope that counts for something. But the one place where our performance still counts for everything is the summons to love. Love God. Love neighbor. And prove it. Catechism links Love of enemies: CCC 1825; 2262 Love of God and neighbor: CCC 2011; 2196 Perfection and holiness: CCC 2012-2016, 2030

Authors Alice Camille

perfection Love

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Homily stories

21 Jul 2013 - Sixteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle C

I’m one of those people who wants everything perfect. For a time, I came pretty darn close: good health, great job, nice apartment with no book unshelved, no table undusted, no dish unwashed. Then I got married and had a child. I remember one of my friends warning, “The first thing to go is the dusting.” Sure enough, when my sister came to visit after my daughter Hannah was born, it didn’t take her more than 15 minutes to exclaim, “Wow! I don’t think I’ve ever seen your house so dusty.” Sorry, but I had bigger fish to fry—namely, figuring out how to grab an hour of sleep amid a relentless barrage of demands from this tiny being. “Once I get Hannah organized, I’ll be fine,” I told a young co-worker who had called with questions while I was on leave. Her response: “Patrice, I don’t know much about babies, but I’m pretty sure there’s no organizing them.” So true. My perfect little world was turned upside down for good. But, fortunately, amid the chaos, I’ve gained a deeper understanding of true perfection: Being still with God.

Authors Patrice J. Tuohy

perfection stillness

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Homily stories

30 Oct 2011 - Thirty-first Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle A

Politicians, civil servants, and business and religious leaders get themselves into trouble when they hold themselves above accepted and expected moral and ethical standards. Not a day goes by where we don't read in the newspaper or hear on the nightly news the sorry story of someone abusing their authority or taking unfair advantage of their position. A politician accepts a free trip here, a financial officer fudges with a few numbers there, a clergy member closes his or her eyes to the serious problems of others in ministry. Let's face it, people in power protect their own mainly for self-preservation. If one bad apple gets exposed, they fear the worst--that the whole bunch gets thrown out. So they cover-up, distract, and evade. Little by little their attention gets so focused on keeping up appearances, that they have no time for real leadership. These leaders will, of course, deny that they've been remiss in their duties. They'll count off their achievements and good works until we're persuaded that there really is no need to worry about their frequent moral lapses. Jesus sees things much differently. Though perfection is not required from those in power, humility is. Humbled servants are who Jesus calls to leadership. Anyone less is not worthy of the public trust.

Authors Patrice J. Tuohy

perfection Authority Leadership

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07 Feb 2010 - Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle C

A popular television show several years ago featured ordinary people who decided that their physical appearance was so lacking, it was negatively affecting their entire life. So they left their family and friends and jobs for a number of months. They had extensive plastic surgery. Their teeth and smile were reconstructed. They got makeup lessons and new haircuts. They were put on diets and exercise regimes. They were dressed in a new wardrobe. And once the transformation was deemed complete, they went home and mad a grand entrance to waiting family and friends who gathered nervously to see the results. The crying and hugging gave us the message that we really are only as good as we look. While there is nothing wrong with looking better, society has set an unacceptably and unrealistically high standard of perfection that few of us will ever reach. Throughout the show, just the external person was dealt with. And we are much more than our appearance. We need to admit that we are imperfect and “unclean,” the “least of the apostles,” “sinful”—all as scripture points out. It is when we’re honest with ourselves that God will reshape us. Our very imperfections could be the instruments used to bring us to God. If we obsess about ourselves, we leave no room for God to work. After all, we are all made in God’s image. We smudge up that image with our sinfulness, for sure. But God will always work with us so that we can reflect God’s being with us.

Authors Father Dominic Grassi

appearance perfection god's image

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28 Dec 2008 - Feast of the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, Cycle B

Homesickness is a powerful disease for which there is no cure but going home. We may miss our own room or bed. Maybe we need the routine that we have grown accustomed to over the years. It could even be the food or the exact time of day we are used to eating. It includes a familiarity with just about everything around you that has suddenly become just a memory rather than a reality. But, most of all, homesickness is caused by the way we so intensely miss our family, even if we don’t necessarily want to admit it. After all, it may surprise us that we miss that little brother or sister we always considered a pain in the neck and who was always bugging us. It might be that we are starting to understand that Mom and Dad, despite their not fully understanding us, still love us in a way that leaves us empty being away from it. Maybe back home our parents and siblings are feeling the same about us. Mary is told clearly that her heart will be broken by Jesus’ fate. Sometimes the greater the love, the greater the pain. Last week when church was full, we felt the joy of being part of God’s family celebrating Christmas together. Now our family, no matter how perfect we try to make it, as Paul points out, begins to break apart. Church is not so full, and we are saddened. It can’t be Christmas every day. But we can embrace each other as the family of faith, whatever opportunities we have.

Authors Father Dominic Grassi

home homesick family Suffering perfection expectations

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11 Jan 2009 - Feast of the Baptism of the Lord, Cycle B

Praise—much more than money—is probably the single most effective human motivator. Sycophantic flattery won’t do. It must be genuine commendation for a job well done or a decision well made. Good managers know this as do teachers, coaches, counselors, volunteer coordinators, and fundraisers—anyone who is trying to get someone to take the next step, stretch themselves, and constantly strive to reach a higher level of commitment or performance. Interestingly, many people have a difficult time accepting this truth. They worry that their charges will grow soft or lazy with too much praise, so they are stingy with their compliments–saving them for perfection, which, of course, never comes. For those who doubt the power of praise, pay attention to today’s gospel. We are told that God tears open the heavens to lavish praise on his son—a son who, up to that point, had yet to accomplish much of anything. No doubt Mark includes this dramatic scene in the story of Jesus’ baptism to give Jesus credibility, but it also indicates just what was motivating Jesus to begin his challenging ministry. Jesus was now confident that God loved him and that God was pleased with him. High praise, indeed–which you’d hate to respond to with disappointing results.

Authors Patrice J. Tuohy

motivator Jesus' Baptism perfection

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10 Feb 2019 - Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle C

A popular television show a few years back featured ordinary people who have decided that their physical appearance was so lacking it was negatively affecting their entire life. So they left their family and friends and jobs for a number of months. They had extensive plastic surgery. Their teeth and smile were reconstructed. They got makeup lessons and new haircuts. They were put on diets and exercise regimes. They were dressed in a new wardrobe. And once the transformation was deemed complete, they went home and made a grand entrance to waiting family and friends who had gathered nervously to see the results. The crying and hugging gave us the message that we really are only as good as we look. While there is nothing wrong with looking your best, society has set an unacceptably and unrealistically high standard of perfection that few of us will ever reach. Throughout the show, just the external person was dealt with. And we are much more than our appearance. We need to admit that we are imperfect and “unclean,” the “least of the apostles,” “sinful”—all as scripture points out. It is when we’re honest with ourselves that God will reshape us. Our very imperfections could be the instruments used to bring us to God. If we obsess about ourselves, we leave no room for God to work. After all, we are all made in God’s image. We smudge up that image with our sinfulness, for sure. But God will always work with us so that we can reflect God’s being with us.

Authors Father Dominic Grassi

Appearances imperfections god's image makeovers

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Exploring the word

23 Feb 2020 - Seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle A

As children most of us believed in perfection as an attainable goal. Maybe not our own particular perfection (I was never going to get an A in science!), but the finish line was clearly marked out and someone was going to cross it. We were literally schooled into the quest for perfection: defined as an A+, or 100 percent answered correctly, or the coveted 4.0 at the end of the term. I could tell you quite dispassionately back then who was perfect and how: Patty was the kindest, Henry the smartest, Ed the fastest, Bernadette the holiest in the class. Back when perfection came marked with a letter grade, it was a straightforward matter as to how to get there from here. But no one, as I remember, was good at everything. Henry was clearly Einstein-brilliant; he’s a doctor today. But he didn't grasp poetry and wasn't a lot of fun either! My report card was evenly divided between A’s and C’s: Ask me if I cared about social studies or phys ed. To be perfect at everything—perfect at perfection—would be liking combining Patty, Henry, Ed, and Bernadette into one superchild! It would be like being God. That was Jesus’ point exactly when he said: Don’t imitate each other or compete against each other. Imitate God and make divine perfection your only standard. Our Lord is not trying to be difficult; he only takes after his Father, if Leviticus is any indication. For there God tells Moses: “Be holy—because I am,” and goes on to delineate 613 ways that perfection is measured according to Deuteronomic law. The lectionary here chooses to highlight one: Love your neighbor as yourself. That’s poignant for us, because Jesus makes the same choice in his teaching: Love God and love your neighbor. Are we to embrace that as the new definition of perfection? The summons to be perfect sounds exhausting. Just being presentable takes a lot out of me some days. Far from wanting a challenge, most of us, to be honest, are hoping for a break. Gone are the days when our progress through life was measured and recorded at every turn: how tall were we, how many tests did we pass, whether we were eligible for Confirmation that spring. We’d like to answer “present” at work these days and hope that counts for something. But the one place where our performance still counts for everything is the summons to love. Love God. Love neighbor. And prove it.

Authors Alice Camille

divine perfection Love

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Homily stories

23 Feb 2020 - Seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle A

A friend relates that she started graduate school without any idea how she was going to pay for it. There was a little money in savings and she guessed that would get her started. Then on the day she registered for classes she stopped into the department graduate office and, lo and behold, there was a graduate assistantship that had been relinquished that very day. Would she like to take a typing test? She did, she passed and the assistantship—full tuition and a sizeable stipend—were hers. Talk about incredible luck. As she met the three other graduate students who had won assistantships, she realized that her stipend was much larger than at least one of them—Ed, a single guy who was working an outside job and the graduate assistantship position, trying to make ends meet. My friend was married, her husband had a job, and they were doing OK—especially with tuition now paid. A small voice within her kept saying—this isn’t fair. Ed should not have to work two jobs to make this work—and I did not even apply for this award in a timely fashion. She could not get the thought out of her mind or heart. So at the end of the first week of classes, she suggested to Ed that they switch graduate assistantships. The work of being perfect as our heavenly Father is perfect is a lifelong journey. But once in a while we find it in ourselves to hand over a tunic, go the extra mile, and love with generous abandon.

Authors Peggy Ekerdt

perfection

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