No Limits

Jealousy (as Britain’s Queen Alexandra famously said 102 years ago) is the source of so many problems in life.

Well, you don’t need me to tell you that – or that there is plenty of jealousy in the world. And, evidently, there was plenty of it around in the Gospel story we just heard [Mark 9:38-43, 47-48] – as evidenced by the disciples’ angry reaction to the unnamed “someone” they had caught casting out devils in Jesus’ name, as well as in the earlier Old Testament story highlighting Joshua’s jealous reaction to Eldad and Medad prophesying in the camp. I think we can all recognize some of ourselves in the behavior of both Joshua and Jesus’ disciples. Jesus’ startling response – like that of Moses before him – seems to go against what we can all recognize as one of our most ordinary and deeply embedded patterns of human behavior.

As we have been hearing now for the past several Sundays, Jesus has been instructing his disciples for some time about what was going to happen when they got to Jerusalem – and what that experience should translate into in terms of their own attitudes. Yet the impression one gets over and over again – in the Gospels as in ordinary life, when things get repeated over and over, there is usually a reason, an instructional purpose – the impression one gets is that the disciples just don’t get it. On the contrary, we see them again focused on themselves, on being insiders, on being important members of a prestigious and powerful inner circle – powerful enough, presumably, at least to make it through life with both hands, both feet, and both eyes intact!

Like members of any adolescent clique (or any adult one), the disciples seem obsessed with distinguishing who’s in from who’s out, who’s up from who’s down, who’s rich from who’s poor, who’s smart from who’s dumb, who dresses well from who doesn’t, who’s cool from who’s not - and equally obsessed with having it all without having to sacrifice anything, let alone a hand, a foot, or an eye. Sound familiar?

Of course, in the world we human beings have built for ourselves, our world works best by building barriers, something we are forever doing at every level. That’s who we are. It expresses what we want and determines how we act – in our relationships, in our careers, whatever.

The good news of the Gospel is that by his life (and above all by his death) Jesus has liberated us from this deep-seated, but ultimately enslaving and self-destructive need to be forever comparing ourselves, to be forever in competition, to be forever keeping score, counting our possessions and calculating our coolness. Jesus challenges us to free ourselves from this unending universal human obsession about ourselves, about us.

And, of course, all those things we want for ourselves all come in limited quantities. That’s presumably a big part of their appeal. To the extent that I get a lot, someone else gets less, a little, or nothing at all. That’s the essential reality of economic and political life, which is why economic and political life are so largely about conflict, because the reality is that there really is never enough of all the stuff we want – certainly not enough for everyone! And, as the 2^nd Reading [James 5:1-6] reminds us, those at the top of the economic pyramid tend to try to guarantee that it stays that way.  So the perennial task of economic systems and governments is to figure out how most satisfactorily to allocate all those scarce, limited benefits that we all so desire.

The kingdom of God, however, is not like that and has no such limits. It has room enough for all of us. It’s the ultimate (and perhaps the only) genuinely “win-win” situation. But it also entails a completely novel and completely unique notion of what winning means, enabling us to accomplish mighty deeds in God’s name, transforming our “lose-lose” world into something we would otherwise never have been able even to imagine.

So, while we would all much rather spend our energy vainly competing to accumulate more hands, more feet, more eyes – tangible ones like wealth, power, and status, and those equally elusive if less tangible ones like affirmation, respect, and love – as if our lives were ever really our own, Jesus is challenging us (as only he can) to feel, to walk, and to see our way through life with his hands, his feet, and his eyes – and so to feel, to walk, and to see things his way.

Homily for the 26^th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Immaculate Conception Church, Knoxville, TN, September 30, 2012.

Michael

                                                                                                                                                   
Jesus said, "I have observed Satan fall like lightening from the sky" [Luke 10:18].
At the awesome age of nine, it fell to me to pick a confirmation name for myself. I chose Michael.I encoutnered some unexpected family opposition on the odd grounds that Michael was not an Italian name. Michael Corleone and The Godfather movie were still 15 years in the future, but  you'd think that surely somebody should have heard of Michelangelo Buonarotti. Well, I won that battle, and on September 22, 1957, Bishop Cornelius Van Lierde addressed me (in Latin, of course) as Michael as he signed me "with the sign of the cross" and confirmed me "with the chrism of salvation" (as the sacramental form then in use put it). And then we went home and had a turkey dinner, and I got presents.

Why Michael? For a wimpy, somewhat nerdy kid, Michael seemed to sound a suitably macho note. If I'd been British - or at least English - I might perhaps have picked George for the same reason. What sealed the deal for Michael for me was the prayer we used to recite regularly in those days after every Low Mass: Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle. Be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the devil. May God rebuke him, we humbly pray; and do you, O Prince of the heavenly host, by the divine power of God, thrust into Hell Satan and all the other evil spirits, who prowl about the world, seeking the ruin and destruction of souls.

Just the sort of saint a wimpy kid would want to identify with in a a tough, bullying world! No wonder ancient Israel - a small kingdom at best, or even worse a collection of displaced persons, surrounded by powerful ancient empires, surrounded bu bullies on every side - sought Michael's protection: At that time there shall arise Michael, the great prince, guardian of your people. It shall be a time unsurpassed in distress since nations began until that time. At that time your people shall escape, everyone who is found written in the book [Daniel 12:1]. No wonder the Church in turn has seen Michael as the great warrior angel against Satan! Thus, the reading at this morning's Mass: Then war broke out in heaven; Michael and his angels battled against the dragon. The dragon and its angels fought back, but they did not prevail and there was no longer any place for them in heaven. The huge dragon, the ancient serpent, who is claled the Devil and Satan, who deceived the whole world, was thrown down to earth, and its angels were thrown down with it [Revelation 12:7-9].

Whether it's the historically insignificant personal struggle of a wimpy kind in the Bronx, or the historically decisive story of Israel, or the cosmic battle between the Kingdom of God and Satan, the struggle seems ongoing: But woe to you, earth and sea, for the devil has come down to you in great fury [Revelation 12:12]. But, at least in that ultimate conflict, whatever the costs and struggles along the way, the final outcome is clear: for he [the Devil] knows he has but a short time [ Revelation 12:12].
Angels are incorporeal spirits, but we portray them as men - Michael as a warrior defeating the dragon/serpent (as seen for example the attached phjoto of a window in my church). As we struggle to navigate our way through this perilous, problem-filled life, and as the Church struggles to hold its own against all the threating power of the world, we take comfort in the protection of the multitude of angelic spirits who share the universe with us and find courage in the confidence that the decisive battle has already been one on our behalf.

What Is Church?

Unlike the United States, Established Churches have long been a feature of European societies. Some states - the United Kingdom, Denmark, Iceland, and (until earlier this year) Norway - have official state Churches under some degree of direct government authority. Others have moved away from formal Establishment in that sense, but continue to provide financial support for one or more Churches through various types of "church taxes." Some version of this is the case in Austria, Denmark, Germany, Italy, Finland, Seden, and Switzerland. In the German case, the 1919 Weimar Constitution and its 1949 successor make provision for such a tax to be paid by Church members - both Catholics and Protestants - paid to the State and then passed on by the State to the Church of which the taxpayer is officially a member. In Germany, where this has long been people's customary way of supporting their Church, some 70% of the incomes of Churches come from these taxes. 
Since there is no officially Established Church in Germany, the taxes are paid only by those who are Church members. Those who are not members of any Church do not pay. German law allows one to remove oneself from one's Church (and hence from the Church's Tax rolls) by a formal act of legally declaring that one is leaving the Church.
This simple, easy-to-understand system is now in the news because of a 2007 lawsuit in which the plaintiff maintained he should be entitled to continue participating in Catholic Church activities (including receiving the Sacraments) despite having legally left the Catholic Church in order not to pay the tax. The Court's verdict came yesterday and sided with the Church. This came less than a week after the German Bishops had decreed that those who had formally left the Church were, as a result of that action, exactly what in fact they were legally claiming to be and had legally declared themselves to be - no longer members of the Church - and hence no longer eligible to participate as members in the Church's life. In the words of Freiburg's Archbishop Robert Zollitsch, President of the German Bishops' Conference, it is a question of "the credibility of the church's sacramental nature. One cannot be half a member or only partly a member. Either one belongs and commits, or one renounces this."
Needless to say, some voices - one is tempted to characterize them as "the usual suspects" - are now being raised in protest. Obviously a Church Tax is not the only way to support the Church, and perhaps it is not the ideal way. But that is really a separate issue - a legitimate subject for discussion, but one entirely separate from the principle at issue here. The central issue - as Archbishop Zollitsch clearly expressed it - is what it means to be a Church and a member of a Church.
One of the most problematic developments in contemporary language about Church is the use of the expression "Institutional Church" - which seems to me to be an ideologically inspired choice of words which implies or suggests that there is some other experience of Church apart from its communal life. Such a suggestion may well be very appealing in our hyper-individualistic society. But there is only one Church, which exists - as it is meant to - in the world. The Church is not some ethereal, "spiritual" bond which is only as serious or as frivolous as individuals care to make it at any particular moment in time. It is a real relationship spanning both space and time - uniting each local church with every other local church in the one Universal Church and each generation with every other generation of faithful. 
It was precisely this understanding of the Church as more than just an ad hoc association of individuals that so powerfully attracted a young Isaac Hecker to the Catholic Church in mid-19th-century America: “When, in 1843, I first read in the catechism of the Council of Trent the doctrine of the communion of saints, it went right home. It alone was to me a heavier weight on the Catholic side of the scales than the best historical argument which could be presented. … The body made alive by such truths ought to be of divine life and its origin traceable to a divine establishment: it ought to be the true church. The certainty of the distinctively Catholic doctrine of the union of God and men made the institution of the church by Christ exceedingly probable.” (“Dr. Brownson and Catholicity,” The Catholic World, November 1887).
The benefits of being part of the Church are many - benefits both short-term and long-term - benefits one is inclined to label "infinite." Not being willing to help pay the monthly bills seems like a poor reason - a cheap reason - to give all that up.

Dethroning King Car?

An article in the current (September 22-28) issue of The Economist suggests something may be changing in our culture's addiction to the automobile. "Seeing the Back of the Car" begins predictably enough, reminding us how integral cars are to modern life. Cars account, we are told, for 70% of all non-foot travel in the 34 OECD (Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development) countries, and America is "stil the most car-mad country in the world." But something surprisingly different suddenly seems to be developing. In fact, while inevitably exacerbated by the recession, a contrary tendency appears to have begun even before the recession: "After decades when each individual was on average travelling farther every year, growth per person has slowed distinctly, and in many cases stopped altogether."

One reason for the apparent decline is that the current retiree generation is the first in which most people drove, which means that newer drivers are now merely replacing older drivers, rather than adding to the total number of drivers. Even more significantly, younger people are getting licenses later than they used to, and the percentage of younger households without cars has increased. Unemployment is obviously a factor, but even employed American youngsters are driving both "less far and less often."

Car use remains stable in rural areas - "where driving still offers freedom and convenience." But car ownership is declining in urban areas, while "city living is on the rise." In the U.S. "13% of people in cities of more than 3m people have no care while only 6% in rural areas live without one."

Perhaps the most intriguing development, however, is the relationship the article posts between internet use and a decline in driving.  Younger people who spend time on the internet are not only less likely to drive a lot but even less likely to get a license: "young people increasingly increasingly view cars as appliances not aspirations, and say that social media give them the access to their world that would once have been associated with cars." And, of course, people are shopping more on-line, which means less driving to shop.

All of this bodes well for whatever lies ahead. Perhaps, it may be too late to make much of a perceptible difference environmentally. The climate-change train has clearly already left the station, and a world climate train-wreck may be inevitable. But if even some of the social dysfunctions the 20th century's destructive addiction to the automobile can be reversed that would be a positive step, however modest, toward an improved qualilty of urban living and a revival of local community life.

Carried by God

I don’t know about you, but there are times when I really wish the Gospels included a lot more personal information about Jesus’ disciples.  Today [Mark 9:30-37], for example, wouldn’t it be interesting to be able to listen in on the disciples’ conversation en route to Capernaum? I can picture Peter, perhaps still stung by Jesus’ rebuke in last week’s Gospel, reminding the others that he was still in line for the top job! I can almost hear Andrew answer, “OK, brother, but don’t forget that I met him first, and I introduced you to him!” And John chiming in, “but I’m the one he’s closest to!” And, of course, Judas, “I’m the one he trusts with the money, without me where would you all be!”

Of course, the Gospel only hints at all that. It tells us that when Jesus asked what they had been arguing about, they were suddenly (and suspiciously) tongue-tied. And Jesus, ever the teacher, took the opportunity to teach them a lesson.

Actually, this was the second time Jesus had tried to teach them what lay ahead. But they failed to understand.  In a world without power-point presentations and other such gimmicks, Jesus employed a child as his instructional aide.

Children induce all sorts of reactions in people. A baby is a sure attention-grabber in any gathering. In our society, children are considered cute, innocent individuals, to whom we are expected to react positively and benevolently.

Forty-one years ago, as a City College undergrad in New York, I had a work-study job which one day involved my attending a meeting at a Head Start facility on the Lower East Side, in what would then have been a very depressed neighborhood. One of the pre-school kids showed up as usual, not knowing that the place was closed that day, prompting someone to comment. “That’s a smart kid! He knows he’s better off here than at home!” How smart or not he was I can’t say, but what I took away from that was that, smart or not, he was still just a child and so was dependent on adults’ schedules – dependent and hence powerless. His powerlessness was in part the powerlessness of the poor, of course; but being a child made his powerlessness that much more so. Even rich children, after all, are ultimately dependent on someone else to exercise power on their behalf.

Yet when Jesus wanted to teach his disciples what following him is all about, he pointed to a powerless child. Thus he sought to teach his clueless disciples the paradox of the powerless Christ, who, in obedience to his Father, assumed our ordinariness as his own to meet us where we are at our most powerless – in the darkness of death, where all our obsessive human preoccupation with power and status, our aspiration to greatness and accomplishment, all come to nothing.

No wonder they found him hard to understand! It seems being a disciple means more than merely listening to Jesus’ words and possibly preaching them to others. No, it means being led, by him and with him, where he was led. It means leaving behind our perpetual preoccupation with power and status, our aspiration to greatness and accomplishment, our competitiveness with one another and within our own selves - the passions that today’s 2^nd reading [James 3:16-4:3] so strongly warns us about, causing us to covet but not possess, to envy but not obtain, to ask but not receive. From middle and high school popularity contests to our national campaigns, it’s all about who’s up and who’s down, who’s in and who’s out.  

In contrast, Jesus challenges us to come to know Christ with the powerless, dependent transparency of a child – a child who knows he or she is better off in here with Jesus than out there on one’s own.

Good teacher that he was, Jesus did not try totally to demolish the ambition of his disciples. Instead he gave them a new definition of greatness to aspire to. “If anyone wishes to be first, he shall be the last of all and the servant of all.”

That can be quite frightening, even threatening. Certainly, it scared the disciples. And it scares most of us most of the time, which is why we tend to pass over it as quickly as possible in search of some more “upbeat” message. But ultimately this is the challenge of a Christian life – of all Christians from first to last.

In a couple of weeks, the Church will observe a Year of Faith, beginning on the 50^th anniversary of the opening of the 2^nd Vatican Council by Blessed Pope John XXIII. A few years earlier, on the day of his coronation as Pope, as he was being carried aloft for the first time on his portable throne, the sedia gestatoria, Pope John is supposed to have commented, “The secret of everything is to let oneself be carried by God, and so to carry God to others.”

Homily for the 25th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Immaculate Conception Church, Knoxville, TN, September 23, 2012