2 Sm 12:7-10, 13
Gal 2:16, 19-21
Lk 7:36—8:3
There is a song by Don Henley entitled The Heart of the Matter. One line of the song says, "I've been trying to get down to the heart of the matter, but my will gets weak and my thoughts seem to scatter, but I think it's about forgiveness, even if you don't love me anymore..."
It's about forgiveness. All of us have need for forgiveness. All of us need to forgive. This is just a simple fact of human relationships. We will find a way to do something to someone that requires seeking forgiveness. We will all find a time we need to forgive. Neither of these is an easy thing to do. To look at someone who has hurt you in some way, done something to you, and to forgive them, well that's not easy. To swallow your pride, and go to someone you have hurt and ask for forgiveness, not an easy thing. The possibility of rejection is huge. Which, however, is more difficult, living with the pain caused you by another, nursing it, holding on to it, having it infect the rest of your life, or looking past the pain, past the hurt, and acting in love by forgiving. Maybe this person doesn't want your forgiveness, maybe they don't think they need it. Which is more difficult, living with the knowledge that you harmed another in some way, perhaps feeling guilty, and having that infect the rest of your life, or seeking forgiveness, trying to make amends, to atone for your transgression. Maybe the person you need forgiveness from is in no mood to give it, maybe they never will be. Both forgiving or seeking forgiveness are scary. If you really want peace in your life these are your only options. Yes, what was done to you may seem so awful that you can't forgive, what you have done may seem to you to be unforgiveable. David committed murder, cold blooded, calculated murder, so he could marry another man's wife. Murder, the intentional taking of another person's life, what act could be more heinous? Yet when confronted with his sin by Nathan, David admitted his sin and God forgave him. Jesus, eating at the house of Simon the Pharisee, is approached by a woman, a sinner, a public sinner, known to all there as a sinner. The other guests are aghast as she weeps on Christ's feet, bathing them with her tears, drying them with her hair. She anoints Christ's feet with oil and this is just about too much for Simon. How could Christ let this sinful woman touch him? He confronts Christ, but is told that this woman has shown great love. She has also shown great courage. She knew her presence would disturb those at the dinner. She could not be completely sure Christ would not send her away. She had faith, she had love, and she trusted that she could be forgiven, no matter what her sins might be. Just like David, she was forgiven. God's love for us is absolute and unconditional. God's forgiveness is there for the asking. We don't deserve it, we can't earn it, but it is ours because of love. We have all been hurt, we have all caused hurt, we all need forgiveness, we all need to grant forgiveness. It is hard, but e must remember that God forgives, no matter the sin. How can we refuse to forgive if God does? Are we better than God?
Deacon John
The Eleventh Sunday in Ordinary Time
June 13, 2010
Monday, June 14, 2010
Monday, June 07, 2010
The Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ
OK, so I'm a day late. Actually I suppose I'm two and a half months late. I haven't posted a homily since March 20, just before I went into the hospital. During this time I just didn't have the energy, physical or mental, to concentrate on any task for very long. But things are improving, and I am slowly regaining strength, and the ability to comncentrate. So, for the moment, I'm back. No promises, but I will try to post every week. Thanks for your prayers.
Gn 14:18-20
1 Cor 11:23-26
Lk 9:11b-17
The average adult human being can survive for approximately 4 to 6 weeks without food, with no caloric intake. This depends, of course, on many factors such as weight and the individual's overall health. Still, even the best conditioned person, or as too many of us Americans are, the largest person, cannot survive much beyond 6 weeks.
We need to regularly replenish our bodies with food, calories of some kind, in order to survive. This drive to survive, this need to insure a steady supply of calories, led humanity to hunt, fish, eventually to settle into agricultural communities, growing food, struggling to survive. Maintaining a steady food supply was a struggle, and for far too may still is. It is no surprise, then, that Christ comes filling this most basic need. Bread, wine, important sources of calories for the people of Christ's time. Christ comes to us, as food, but food not for the body only. If the average adult can survive without physical food for 4 to 6 weeks, how long can the average person survive without the spiritual nourishment that Christ provides in the Eucharist? The soul must be fed, the spirit replenished, else we fall victim to spiritual starvation. Many who die from physical starvation succumb not just to the lack of food, but to other factors that spring up when the body is weakened by the lack of nourishment. The starving person become susceptible to a host of illnesses, given the opportunity to flourish by the weakness of the body. Our spirits, our souls, are no different. No nourishment for the soul leads to weakness, weakness that can kill just as surely as physical starvation. The sad part is we don't have to struggle to receive this spiritual nourishment. Christ comes to us, is present to us, as bread, as wine, as food. Many of our ancestors struggled to survive, struggled to feed their families. To receive Christ we don't need to struggle at all, all we need to do is show up.
Deacon John
The Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ
June 6, 2010
Gn 14:18-20
1 Cor 11:23-26
Lk 9:11b-17
The average adult human being can survive for approximately 4 to 6 weeks without food, with no caloric intake. This depends, of course, on many factors such as weight and the individual's overall health. Still, even the best conditioned person, or as too many of us Americans are, the largest person, cannot survive much beyond 6 weeks.
We need to regularly replenish our bodies with food, calories of some kind, in order to survive. This drive to survive, this need to insure a steady supply of calories, led humanity to hunt, fish, eventually to settle into agricultural communities, growing food, struggling to survive. Maintaining a steady food supply was a struggle, and for far too may still is. It is no surprise, then, that Christ comes filling this most basic need. Bread, wine, important sources of calories for the people of Christ's time. Christ comes to us, as food, but food not for the body only. If the average adult can survive without physical food for 4 to 6 weeks, how long can the average person survive without the spiritual nourishment that Christ provides in the Eucharist? The soul must be fed, the spirit replenished, else we fall victim to spiritual starvation. Many who die from physical starvation succumb not just to the lack of food, but to other factors that spring up when the body is weakened by the lack of nourishment. The starving person become susceptible to a host of illnesses, given the opportunity to flourish by the weakness of the body. Our spirits, our souls, are no different. No nourishment for the soul leads to weakness, weakness that can kill just as surely as physical starvation. The sad part is we don't have to struggle to receive this spiritual nourishment. Christ comes to us, is present to us, as bread, as wine, as food. Many of our ancestors struggled to survive, struggled to feed their families. To receive Christ we don't need to struggle at all, all we need to do is show up.
Deacon John
The Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ
June 6, 2010
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Fifth Sunday of Lent
Is 43:16-21
Phil 3:8-14
Jn 8:1-11
In an old Bugs Bunny cartoon the rascally rabbit cons someone, then walks away saying, what an idiot, what a maroon. Even when I saw this as a child I recognized the mistake, using the wrong word, and understanding that maybe the wrong person, if Bugs can be considered a person, was the maroon. The scribes and Pharisees bring a woman to Jesus, a woman caught in adultery. I doubt they really cared much about this woman or her sin, cynically they hoped to trap Jesus, forcing him to choose to either stick with the letter of the law or to let her go despite the law. A neat trap, one they could spring and walk away saying what an idiot, what a maroon. Instead Jesus questions them. Who among you is without sin, who among you is perfect? If you are sinful, imperfect, how can you cast judgment on another imperfect being? Slowly they begin to walk away, realizing that maybe the wrong person, or persons, were the maroon. Far too often in my own life I have lashed out, judging someone, someone I thought, someone I knew, was wrong. How could they do that? How could they be that way? They deserve their fate and worse, what an idiot, what a maroon. Then, later I learn more about that person, their circumstances, and see how foolishly harsh I was in my judgment. I look at myself and realize many could look at me, at things I have done, and be just as harsh in judgment against me, despite not knowing me or my circumstances. We must understand that in our own imperfection, we cannot judge others. The only one who can is the one who is perfect. When I try to judge, to point out another’s faults, just who is the maroon?
Deacon John
The Fifth Sunday of Lent
March 21, 2010
Phil 3:8-14
Jn 8:1-11
In an old Bugs Bunny cartoon the rascally rabbit cons someone, then walks away saying, what an idiot, what a maroon. Even when I saw this as a child I recognized the mistake, using the wrong word, and understanding that maybe the wrong person, if Bugs can be considered a person, was the maroon. The scribes and Pharisees bring a woman to Jesus, a woman caught in adultery. I doubt they really cared much about this woman or her sin, cynically they hoped to trap Jesus, forcing him to choose to either stick with the letter of the law or to let her go despite the law. A neat trap, one they could spring and walk away saying what an idiot, what a maroon. Instead Jesus questions them. Who among you is without sin, who among you is perfect? If you are sinful, imperfect, how can you cast judgment on another imperfect being? Slowly they begin to walk away, realizing that maybe the wrong person, or persons, were the maroon. Far too often in my own life I have lashed out, judging someone, someone I thought, someone I knew, was wrong. How could they do that? How could they be that way? They deserve their fate and worse, what an idiot, what a maroon. Then, later I learn more about that person, their circumstances, and see how foolishly harsh I was in my judgment. I look at myself and realize many could look at me, at things I have done, and be just as harsh in judgment against me, despite not knowing me or my circumstances. We must understand that in our own imperfection, we cannot judge others. The only one who can is the one who is perfect. When I try to judge, to point out another’s faults, just who is the maroon?
Deacon John
The Fifth Sunday of Lent
March 21, 2010
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Fourth Sunday of Lent
Jos 5:9a, 10-12
2 Cor 5:17-21
Lk 15:1-3, 11-32
The movie A Christmas Story, set in Northern Indiana in the late 1940’s, is primarily about the quest of young Ralphie to get a particular present for Christmas, a Red Ryder BB gun. Yet the story also deals a lot with everyday life, and with other preoccupations of our young hero. One thing Ralphie is looking for is a Little Orphan Annie secret decoder ring, an absolute necessity if he is to be able to decipher the coded message given at the end of the Little Orphan Annie radio show. He saved Ovaltine labels, drank the stuff in mass quantities, and dutifully mailed everything in to obtain the ring. Diligently Ralphie checks the mail each day on the way home from school, anxiously awaiting the arrival of the coveted ring. Finally the ring arrives, and Ralphie is overjoyed. At last he can decode the message! When he does, however, he discovers the message is nothing more than a commercial for Ovaltine, the drink he has consumed gallons of to obtain the ring. Greatly disappointed, he never mentions the ring again. What he watched for, waited for, longed for, has done nothing but let him down. A young man demands his share of his inheritance, takes the money and proceeds to throw it all away living a dissolute life. His father, who acquiesced in his son’s demand for the money, watches and waits, waits for the return of his son. Surely this man is disappointed in his son, in his son’s behavior, in his foolishness, in his wasted life. He watches, and when he sees his lost son on the road home, he runs to him. He runs to him not to berate him for his foolishness, but to bring him back into the warmth and the love of his family. No one would blame the man for being angry, no one would fault him for exacting some sort of punishment on his son. Make him work, make him pay the money back, demand some sort of restitution. Instead the father celebrates, joyous that his son has returned. He accepts his son despite his faults and failings. Will the son disappoint again? Probably, he learned a valuable lesson, but being human, he will need at times to be reminded. He learned, but he still isn’t perfect. Our God watches and waits for us, watching diligently to see if we are on the way home. Just like young Ralphie he checks everyday to see if we have made it back yet. Unlike Ralphie, God knows what to expect. We have squandered the inheritance we were given, thrown away the gift that Christ obtained for us, yet God watches and waits. Even when we do return, repentant and pledging to live differently, God knows we will still disappoint. We learn lessons, but we are not perfect, not yet. Just like the decoder ring, we will find a way to be less than we could be, less than we want to be, we will fail again. God knows this, God knows that we will disappoint, again and again. Still God watches and waits, and welcomes us back with joy, every time.
Deacon John
Fourth Sunday of Lent
March 14, 2010
2 Cor 5:17-21
Lk 15:1-3, 11-32
The movie A Christmas Story, set in Northern Indiana in the late 1940’s, is primarily about the quest of young Ralphie to get a particular present for Christmas, a Red Ryder BB gun. Yet the story also deals a lot with everyday life, and with other preoccupations of our young hero. One thing Ralphie is looking for is a Little Orphan Annie secret decoder ring, an absolute necessity if he is to be able to decipher the coded message given at the end of the Little Orphan Annie radio show. He saved Ovaltine labels, drank the stuff in mass quantities, and dutifully mailed everything in to obtain the ring. Diligently Ralphie checks the mail each day on the way home from school, anxiously awaiting the arrival of the coveted ring. Finally the ring arrives, and Ralphie is overjoyed. At last he can decode the message! When he does, however, he discovers the message is nothing more than a commercial for Ovaltine, the drink he has consumed gallons of to obtain the ring. Greatly disappointed, he never mentions the ring again. What he watched for, waited for, longed for, has done nothing but let him down. A young man demands his share of his inheritance, takes the money and proceeds to throw it all away living a dissolute life. His father, who acquiesced in his son’s demand for the money, watches and waits, waits for the return of his son. Surely this man is disappointed in his son, in his son’s behavior, in his foolishness, in his wasted life. He watches, and when he sees his lost son on the road home, he runs to him. He runs to him not to berate him for his foolishness, but to bring him back into the warmth and the love of his family. No one would blame the man for being angry, no one would fault him for exacting some sort of punishment on his son. Make him work, make him pay the money back, demand some sort of restitution. Instead the father celebrates, joyous that his son has returned. He accepts his son despite his faults and failings. Will the son disappoint again? Probably, he learned a valuable lesson, but being human, he will need at times to be reminded. He learned, but he still isn’t perfect. Our God watches and waits for us, watching diligently to see if we are on the way home. Just like young Ralphie he checks everyday to see if we have made it back yet. Unlike Ralphie, God knows what to expect. We have squandered the inheritance we were given, thrown away the gift that Christ obtained for us, yet God watches and waits. Even when we do return, repentant and pledging to live differently, God knows we will still disappoint. We learn lessons, but we are not perfect, not yet. Just like the decoder ring, we will find a way to be less than we could be, less than we want to be, we will fail again. God knows this, God knows that we will disappoint, again and again. Still God watches and waits, and welcomes us back with joy, every time.
Deacon John
Fourth Sunday of Lent
March 14, 2010
Sunday, February 21, 2010
First Sunday of Lent
Dt 26:4-10
Rom 10:8-13
Lk 4:1-13
What do we want, and what do we need? How often do we confuse those things? There are a lot of things I want, there are a lot of things I have, but I should ask myself, do I need them? We all have a lot of things now, things we consider necessities, that just a few years ago were if not luxuries, at least not something that you could do without. Cell phones, all of us have one, and perhaps they have become necessities, but you could survive without it. The same can be said for computers, internet access, and a lot of new technology. Sixty years ago television was a luxury, and not something that was a necessity. The same can be said about radio if we go back 70 or 80 years. There are a lot of things we have or want that maybe we could do without, a lot of stuff that tempts us to believe we can’t live without it. Jesus was in the desert, hungry, tired, and tempted to turn stones into bread. He refused. Just as he refused to worship the tempter, just as he refused to tempt the Creator. What did he want, what did he need? Jesus managed to separate those two things. Yes he was hungry, he wanted bread, but how much bread did he actually need? He didn’t need the power and glory offered to him. His faith was strong enough he did not need to test it by tempting God. In this season let us examine our own lives and try to determine what we need, as opposed to what we want. How much stuff is enough? Who, or what, do I worship? Do I need proof of God’s existence, or do I have faith? Now is the time task these questions, now is the time to seek the answers, now as we prepare.
Deacon John
First Sunday of Lent
Feb. 21, 2010
Rom 10:8-13
Lk 4:1-13
What do we want, and what do we need? How often do we confuse those things? There are a lot of things I want, there are a lot of things I have, but I should ask myself, do I need them? We all have a lot of things now, things we consider necessities, that just a few years ago were if not luxuries, at least not something that you could do without. Cell phones, all of us have one, and perhaps they have become necessities, but you could survive without it. The same can be said for computers, internet access, and a lot of new technology. Sixty years ago television was a luxury, and not something that was a necessity. The same can be said about radio if we go back 70 or 80 years. There are a lot of things we have or want that maybe we could do without, a lot of stuff that tempts us to believe we can’t live without it. Jesus was in the desert, hungry, tired, and tempted to turn stones into bread. He refused. Just as he refused to worship the tempter, just as he refused to tempt the Creator. What did he want, what did he need? Jesus managed to separate those two things. Yes he was hungry, he wanted bread, but how much bread did he actually need? He didn’t need the power and glory offered to him. His faith was strong enough he did not need to test it by tempting God. In this season let us examine our own lives and try to determine what we need, as opposed to what we want. How much stuff is enough? Who, or what, do I worship? Do I need proof of God’s existence, or do I have faith? Now is the time task these questions, now is the time to seek the answers, now as we prepare.
Deacon John
First Sunday of Lent
Feb. 21, 2010
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Ash Wednesday
Jl 2:12-18
2 Cor 5:20—6:2
Mt 6:1-6, 16-18
It’s Lent? Already, it’s Lent? Didn’t we just celebrate Christmas yesterday? I have to tell you, I am not ready for it to be Lent. I need more time to get ready, to prepare myself, mentally, to take on the challenge that is Lent. This can’t happen yet. Could we put it off for another week, maybe two, just to give me more time to get ready? The real problem is, if we are willing to admit it to ourselves, is that we will never be ready. Lent can start today, tomorrow, next week, next month it really doesn’t matter, we will never be ready. We don’t want to face ourselves and admit that we are indeed imperfect beings. We definitely don’t want to face God knowing that we are imperfect, that we are indeed sinners. The admission to ourselves that we fall short makes it hard for us to face God, because we are afraid. We’re afraid because we know we don’t look good to ourselves, so how can we stand how we must look to God. We’re afraid, but we fear without cause. God calls to us, just as the prophet Joel says, because God is full of mercy and compassion, full of kindness and slow to anger. God calls to us because we are loved. This call to accept the compassion of God is ongoing, all day, every day. But being human, being limited, and being afraid, we need a push, a nudge, a reminder that God is calling us, and that we should not be afraid to heed that call. Thus we have Lent. Lent, which is our push, our nudge, our reminder that God loves us more than we can ever comprehend. Lent, a reminder of the great love demonstrated for us forty days from now.
Deacon John
Ash Wednesday
Feb. 17, 2010
2 Cor 5:20—6:2
Mt 6:1-6, 16-18
It’s Lent? Already, it’s Lent? Didn’t we just celebrate Christmas yesterday? I have to tell you, I am not ready for it to be Lent. I need more time to get ready, to prepare myself, mentally, to take on the challenge that is Lent. This can’t happen yet. Could we put it off for another week, maybe two, just to give me more time to get ready? The real problem is, if we are willing to admit it to ourselves, is that we will never be ready. Lent can start today, tomorrow, next week, next month it really doesn’t matter, we will never be ready. We don’t want to face ourselves and admit that we are indeed imperfect beings. We definitely don’t want to face God knowing that we are imperfect, that we are indeed sinners. The admission to ourselves that we fall short makes it hard for us to face God, because we are afraid. We’re afraid because we know we don’t look good to ourselves, so how can we stand how we must look to God. We’re afraid, but we fear without cause. God calls to us, just as the prophet Joel says, because God is full of mercy and compassion, full of kindness and slow to anger. God calls to us because we are loved. This call to accept the compassion of God is ongoing, all day, every day. But being human, being limited, and being afraid, we need a push, a nudge, a reminder that God is calling us, and that we should not be afraid to heed that call. Thus we have Lent. Lent, which is our push, our nudge, our reminder that God loves us more than we can ever comprehend. Lent, a reminder of the great love demonstrated for us forty days from now.
Deacon John
Ash Wednesday
Feb. 17, 2010
Sunday, February 07, 2010
Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Is 6:1-2a, 3-8
1 Cor 15:1-11
Lk 5:1-11
Blessings, we all have them, no matter what we might think of our circumstances. Perhaps we think we have more than we will ever need. More likely, we don’t think we have nearly enough. We could always use more we think, more money, more space, more time, more something. If we are honest with ourselves, however, we are blessed in some way, no matter how meager we may think our circumstances are. My associate always starts off our non-denominational services for our residents and staff by singing a song that goes, “We’re blessed, we’re blessed, we’re blessed. We have shelter, clothing and strength, we are blessed, we don’t deserve it but yet we are blessed.” We tend to discount the blessings we have perhaps because we don’t believe we deserve them. Well, we don’t. We don’t deserve whatever blessings we have, so we are skeptical, and we are afraid. We know we are not worthy, we know that we can never earn those blessings that God has granted us. We fear for no reason, the blessings we have are a gift, God’s grace is a gift, freely given despite the fact we don’t deserve it. In the first reading the writer proclaims;
“Woe is me, I am doomed! For I am a man of unclean lips, living among a people of unclean lips;” but despite his fear the next thing that happens is amazing, it is a gift, God’s grace granted freely as, “one of the seraphim flew to me,
holding an ember that he had taken with tongs from the altar. He touched my mouth with it, and said, ‘See, now that this has touched your lips, your wickedness is removed, your sin purged.’”
In the Gospel reading today Jesus asks Peter to set out from the shore so that Jesus could teach the crowd without being crushed or pushed into the sea. Peter does as he was asked, then when Jesus finishes teaching he tells Peter to set out for deep water and lower his nets for a catch. Peter tells Jesus that they had fished all night unsuccessfully, but he would do as Jesus asked. Now Peter was a fisherman, a rough-hewn, straight talking, hard-minded businessman. He was probably skeptical about the possibility of catching anything, but he did as Jesus asked. He did as Jesus asked and was blessed with a harvest of fish so bountiful it nearly sank his boat and another. Peter knew he did not deserve this blessing, he knew that by the standard of his day he may have been a good guy, a hale fellow well-met sort, but not a holy man. This gift frightened him, because he knew he did not deserve it. He looked to Jesus and said, “Depart from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man.”
Each of us fits in that same place, the place where the writer of the first reading was, the place where Peter was. When confronted with the greatness of God, when facing the grace and the almost unbearable love that God showers upon us, we are terrified. We don’t deserve this, we are a people of unclean lips, a people who are good by some standard, but surely nor holy, surely not worthy of God’s attention much less God’s boundless love. We are so programmed to think we have to earn things, we have a hard time believing that this great gift is ours, with no way we can reciprocate, no way we can earn it. We can’t earn it but we still feel a need to do something, we do have to respond somehow, don’t we? We can respond, first by accepting the gift, by not being afraid of the gift. Then, knowing that we are not working to earn this gift of love, of grace, we look around and offer it, undeserved, without reservation or expectation, to the rest of the world.
“Here I am,” I said; “send me!”
Deacon John
Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Feb. 7, 2010
1 Cor 15:1-11
Lk 5:1-11
Blessings, we all have them, no matter what we might think of our circumstances. Perhaps we think we have more than we will ever need. More likely, we don’t think we have nearly enough. We could always use more we think, more money, more space, more time, more something. If we are honest with ourselves, however, we are blessed in some way, no matter how meager we may think our circumstances are. My associate always starts off our non-denominational services for our residents and staff by singing a song that goes, “We’re blessed, we’re blessed, we’re blessed. We have shelter, clothing and strength, we are blessed, we don’t deserve it but yet we are blessed.” We tend to discount the blessings we have perhaps because we don’t believe we deserve them. Well, we don’t. We don’t deserve whatever blessings we have, so we are skeptical, and we are afraid. We know we are not worthy, we know that we can never earn those blessings that God has granted us. We fear for no reason, the blessings we have are a gift, God’s grace is a gift, freely given despite the fact we don’t deserve it. In the first reading the writer proclaims;
“Woe is me, I am doomed! For I am a man of unclean lips, living among a people of unclean lips;” but despite his fear the next thing that happens is amazing, it is a gift, God’s grace granted freely as, “one of the seraphim flew to me,
holding an ember that he had taken with tongs from the altar. He touched my mouth with it, and said, ‘See, now that this has touched your lips, your wickedness is removed, your sin purged.’”
In the Gospel reading today Jesus asks Peter to set out from the shore so that Jesus could teach the crowd without being crushed or pushed into the sea. Peter does as he was asked, then when Jesus finishes teaching he tells Peter to set out for deep water and lower his nets for a catch. Peter tells Jesus that they had fished all night unsuccessfully, but he would do as Jesus asked. Now Peter was a fisherman, a rough-hewn, straight talking, hard-minded businessman. He was probably skeptical about the possibility of catching anything, but he did as Jesus asked. He did as Jesus asked and was blessed with a harvest of fish so bountiful it nearly sank his boat and another. Peter knew he did not deserve this blessing, he knew that by the standard of his day he may have been a good guy, a hale fellow well-met sort, but not a holy man. This gift frightened him, because he knew he did not deserve it. He looked to Jesus and said, “Depart from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man.”
Each of us fits in that same place, the place where the writer of the first reading was, the place where Peter was. When confronted with the greatness of God, when facing the grace and the almost unbearable love that God showers upon us, we are terrified. We don’t deserve this, we are a people of unclean lips, a people who are good by some standard, but surely nor holy, surely not worthy of God’s attention much less God’s boundless love. We are so programmed to think we have to earn things, we have a hard time believing that this great gift is ours, with no way we can reciprocate, no way we can earn it. We can’t earn it but we still feel a need to do something, we do have to respond somehow, don’t we? We can respond, first by accepting the gift, by not being afraid of the gift. Then, knowing that we are not working to earn this gift of love, of grace, we look around and offer it, undeserved, without reservation or expectation, to the rest of the world.
“Here I am,” I said; “send me!”
Deacon John
Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Feb. 7, 2010
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