Summer Reading

I am confident that God – at least occasionally – speaks to me in a very direct way, just as he speaks to all of his creation.  More frequently, God also speaks to me through other people.  I may not always hear his words, and sometimes I may hear but not listen, but God speaks nonetheless.  God speaks that I may draw closer to him, for his desire for me, as is his desire for every person on earth, is to be one with him.

That’s the good news.  The bad news is that the devil also knows how to speak to me, both directly and through other people.  And his purposes are truly nefarious, for he wishes me to forget about God, to put absolute faith in my own ability, to limit my sight to what can be gained – and lost – in this world, filling my mind with wants which are always just out of reach and fears that seem ever so dire and imminent.

I am like the boy with an angel sitting on one shoulder and the devil on the other, but they are both invisible, so how do I discern whose words I am hearing?  Today’s readings give us a couple clues.

Jesus uses the metaphor of trees bearing fruits (Mt 7:15-20) – you can’t get good fruit from bad trees or bad fruit from good trees.  Therefore, listen to those people (or words) which bear good fruit.  By their fruit you shall know them.  This is logical advice.  We walk through an orchard in the winter and cannot tell what trees we are looking at, but walk through in the fall and the answer is obvious.

Jesus, St. Paul, and St. Peter all use this metaphor.  Jesus tells us that we bear good fruit when we remain connected to him, the life-giving vine (Jn 15:5).  Perhaps, most famously, St. Paul tells us that when we are led by the Spirit, we bear its fruits, principal among them love, joy, and peace.  (Gal 5:22)  So look for the good fruits, and we will be attuned to the good words.

Our first reading (2 Kgs 22:8-13) tells of “a book of the law” that was discovered in the temple during the reign of King Josiah.  On hearing the book read to him, the King realizes the wayward way of the people and institutes a great reform to bring the people back to Yahweh.  As a result, Josiah is rightly considered one of Judah’s greatest kings.  So what was this book that so inspired him?  Scholars agree that it was a version of the book we now call Deuteronomy.

This book is written as a series of discourses by Moses to the people as they are about to enter the Promised Land, describing for them the history of their reception of the law on Mt. Sinai – we hear again, as we heard in Exodus, the Ten Commandments.  But Moses goes on to fill in some of the blanks in the law, explaining the rationale and importance of following the law to the people.

What we learn from this is that if we are to discern God’s words from the devil’s, an important resource is the God’s words as we have them in the Holy Book.  We must be familiar with the Bible.  And it seems to me that the best way to become familiar with a book is to read it.

A few days ago, a friend of mine on Facebook posted a request for summer reading suggestions.  She received lots of suggestions and I learned of some of my favorite authors who have written new books.  But it also prompted me to think of Bible reading for the summer.

Now, the Bible is a bit much to handle for a summer, eh?  But, I’m thinking I – and you – can handle the Gospels this summer.  This would not require a marathon of reading.  Just reading two chapters a day – ten minutes at most of reading with another ten or fifteen minutes to reflect on the reading – it would take a week to do Mark, and about two weeks for each of the other three – Matthew, Luke and John.  That’s seven weeks!  Sounds like a summer to me.

And at the end of the summer, my guess is you might be at least a little bit better at discerning God’s words from those of the devil, for you will be much more intimate with the Jesus, who always bears the best of fruits. 

One

When you watch a college basketball or football game on TV, what happens when the camera scans the sideline or fans after a big play?  Almost invariably, someone on the winning side will point a finger to the sky and chant: We're number one!

Of course, we don't really believe that silly claim, as the other team's next big play shows it to be false.  Yet, we generally smile at the display, perhaps wishing it to be true if we are on that person's side, perhaps looking forward to a turnabout if we are opposed.

The bottom line, however, is that these claims of position and place are part of our everyday lives.

We rank ourselves against others based on the schools we attended, the jobs we have, the houses we live in or the money we make.

We rank ourselves against others based on our gender, the color of our skin, our age, the countries we are from.

And we may even rank ourselves against others based on the number of Masses we attend, the length of our prayers, the devotions we perform or the sins we don't commit.

What Paul told the Corinthians 1900-odd years ago, what he is telling us today, and what this solemn feast is all about, is that this need to rank and compare is fundamentally, diametrically, radically opposed to our faith.

For our faith tells us and the theologians explain to us that this sacrament of the Eucharist involves two "ontological changes."  Now, "ontological" is certainly a five-dollar word, one that theologians love to use, but it simply means "real."

The first "ontological" change is one we have known since our first instructions: the bread is changed to Christ's body and the wine changed to His blood.  But this change is truly based on faith, for we see no change to the elements, we taste no change, we smell no change, we simply believe.

The second "ontological" change we may not think about as much, yet it is much more demonstrable than the first.  For we believe that as we partake of the Eucharist, sharing the one loaf and the one cup, our community undergoes a change.  We become, as Paul says, one body.  (1 Cor 10:16-17)  When the eucharistic minister presents the host to us and states "The Body of Christ," our "Amen" asserts that not only has the bread been changed, but we - as a community - are also changed into the Body of Christ.

And with this faith, our community changes from one based on rank to one based on equality, from one based on competition to one based on mutuality, from one based on retribution to one based on reconciliation, from one based on power to one based on love.  We turn to the other, rather than the self.  We become one with each other, and thus one with God.

"We're number one!" - Not hardly.

"We're one!" - with the grace of God, most assuredly.

Be-ing

It is the early 80’s and I’m a few years out of school, unmarried, and starting out on a very lucrative career.  I live in Reston, Virginia, a new town founded in the 1960s.  We have a brand new Catholic parish and a friend suggests that we start a Knights of Columbus Council.  I’m thinking old guys in tuxedos and plumed hats, that’s not me, is it?  But Jerry convinces me and, since I’m a finance guy, I get to be the charter treasurer.  The financial secretary – who I have to work closely with as the treasurer – is one of the “old guys.”  Of course, that’s the way I saw it, but he was no more than 55 then, younger than I am today.  He didn’t have the tuxedo and plumed hat.  In fact, he seemed to me a very nice man, a good man.  His name is Paul Hickey.

I didn’t have the language then to describe why he seemed so nice, but as I got to know him better – who would have dreamed I’d become his son-in-law! – and as the Lord drew me closer to Scripture, I ultimately realized what Paul had and why I should want to be just like him.

For Paul, things weren’t important; people were.  Color television, who needs it?  Fancy car, what for?  Pay extra for peanut butter, are you crazy?  Frugal, Paul was.  But that only allowed him to be extremely generous – generous with his charity, generous with his time, generous with his talents.  He reminded me of some of the homeless I know from the shelter I volunteer at.  They have next-to-nothing, but are always eager to share what they have.  Blessed are the poor in spirit, theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Perhaps it was his Irish heritage, but Mary remembers many a wake that Paul would drag all the children to, much to their discomfort.  It’s important, he’d say, to mourn with your friends, to help celebrate the lives of those we know who have passed.  Blessed are those who mourn, they shall be comforted.

A striking feature of Paul was his gentleness.  I rarely saw him angry.  My brother, who only knew Paul from a few family gatherings, when he heard of Paul’s death, told me that he knew Paul as a gentle man.  Truly he was.  Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.

When Paul lived in White Plains, he was the go-to guy whenever the city or some developer wanted to erect some outrageous tower or otherwise disrupt their quiet, residential neighborhood.  Paul would do the research, attend the hearings, and, in his persuasive way, turn the plans around.  Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness sake, they shall be satisfied.

As all of us parents know, kids can test unconditional love to the very limit.  Somehow it seems they never do things just that way we’d want or expect.  Whether it was John taking six years to get through college – he had to graduate because he ran out of courses to take – or Mary wanting to be a teacher – “geez, you’ll never have two nickels to rub together” – or Tish gypsying around trying to find herself – will she ever settle down? – they all knew that Paul’s love would never flag.  Whatever or whenever, he would be there for them.  Blessed are the merciful, for they shall find mercy.

Paul was always devoted to the church and its teachings.  Before we had a church building in Reston, Pat and Paul would host daily Masses at their home.  They’d especially do this during college vacations, in part, so they could shame the kids into attending.  Mary remembers Paul standing at the bottom of the stairs, “I don’t know how you can lie in bed when you know the Mass will be celebrated in your very own living room!”  Of course, they couldn’t resist.  Pat and Paul raised three children who, to this day, are faith-filled people with faith-filled families.  Blessed are the clean of heart, for they shall see God.

His experience in the army during the Korean War, particularly during basic training, encouraged Paul to pray for peace, and he continued do that for the rest of his life.  He was a man of prayer and peace, particularly praying, as Zechariah did, that the dawn from on high would shine on his children, guiding their feet into the way of peace.  Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called children of God.

Life didn’t always go according to Paul’s plan.  Some may have wallowed in self-pity at such disappointments.  But Paul would simply roll up his sleeves and confront whatever problems beset him.  Whether it was cooking some typical dad-can’t-really-boil-water dinner for the kids when he had to do that, or spending a summer on a ladder burning the paint off a 50-year old house to repaint it, Paul got it done with nary a complaint.  Blessed those who are persecuted, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Paul taught me with his life what his patron and namesake, Paul of Tarsus teaches me in Scripture - that the be-ing of life was so much more important than the doing of life.  To know who you are – a sinner saved by an all-loving, all-merciful, all-provident God who proves his love in that while we still sinned, Christ died for us – and to know this great love in your heart of hearts, frees you from all of your wants, frees you from all of your fears, frees you be what Jesus calls each one of us to be – poor in spirit, mournful for the world and its sufferings, meek, hungry for righteousness, merciful, clean of heart, a peacemaker who bears patiently with suffering and persecution.  And when that is your be-ing, the doing naturally flows. 

Blessed are you, Paul Patrick Hickey, the kingdom of heaven is yours.

A lesson from Barnabas

Unless you happen to be from Cyprus, where St. Barnabas was born and martyred, St. Barnabas is probably not among your top ten most influential saints or your ten favorite saints or maybe, he’s not even on your list of saints at all. 

The early church, though, thought highly of Barnabas and appreciated his role in the with great fondness.  He is called an apostle, yet he is never mentioned in the Gospels.  He is the first post-Pentecost convert whose name is given to us by Luke in the Acts of the Apostles.  This was a clue that he was to play a major role.  It was such a large role that if it wasn’t for his contribution, there is a very good chance that many, many of us would not even be Christians today.

To explain, we have to know a bit about St. Paul.  Unlike the story of Barnabas, most of us are pretty familiar with the outlines of Saul/Paul.  Starting out as a persecutor of the early Christians, Saul is struck down on the road to Damascus and experiences a great conversion.  He goes out into the desert to discern his mission, comes back to Damascus and, shocking most everyone, preaches Jesus as the messiah.  He goes to Jerusalem for a meet-and-greet with the apostles and then it’s off to convert the Gentiles, which he does with great success.  He is a prolific letter writer, and many of his writings are revered as sacred scripture – and that’s what they become! 

Many consider Paul the first Christian theologian.  As such, he argued that faith in Jesus is the only determinant of our salvation, making adherence to the Jewish law unnecessary.  This opened us Christianity to the 99% of the world that wasn’t Jewish!  Without Paul, it is easy to argue that there would be many, many fewer Christians in the world and we wouldn’t be among their number.  But none of this happens without Barnabas.

After Saul visits the disciples in Jerusalem – where he is introduced to the disciples by our friend Barnabas – he doesn’t immediately go off to fame and glory.  In fact, he disappears!  We hear nothing of him for roughly ten years.  They are like Jesus’ “hidden years,” for there is no mention of Saul or Paul or whatever he might be doing.  Presumably, he simply goes back to his home town of Tarsus, making tents – the family trade – for that that is where we next hear of him.

Meanwhile, the church is growing rapidly, particularly in Antioch.  The apostles in Jerusalem decide to send Barnabas to minister to and oversee the Christians there.  After Barnabas arrives, as we hear today in Acts, the church continues to grow rapidly, and Barnabas seeks help for his mission.  What does he do?  He goes off to Tarsus and encourages his old acquaintance Saul to join him.  After working a year or so together in Antioch, the church there is thriving and the leaders are inspired by the Spirit to send Barnabas and Saul out on mission to the Gentiles.  (Acts 11:19-26; 13:1-3)  The rest, as they say, is history.

But if Barnabas doesn’t decide to get Saul out of Tarsus, it may not have happened at all.  His small act had great consequences.

This reminds us that even our own smallest acts of charity, of mercy, and of love, or our simplest words of encouragement can have larger implications than we can possibly imagine.  Often times, I find myself reluctant to act since I think I have so little to offer.  I think I can’t possibly make a difference.  St. Barnabas encourages me, as he encourages you, to act anyways.  Let God multiply your works as only He can.

And if we are encouraged by the example and prayers of St. Barnabas, that is a particularly apt and auspicious thing!  When he first joined the disciples, his name was Joseph.  They changed his name to Barnabas, meaning “son of encouragement.”  (Acts 4:36)  They must have known something, even then.

St. Barnabas, son of encouragement, pray for us.

Restoration

A principal theme of John’s gospel is that Jesus restores the original justice that God intended for his creation.  John alerts us to this theme in his opening line – “In the beginning was the Word,” reminding us of the very start of everything – “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.” (Gn 1:1)

Throughout the Gospel, Jesus restores faith to the unbelieving, sight to the blind, health to the sick, wholeness to the lame, even, in the case of Lazarus, restores life to the dead.  In today’s reading (Jn 20:19-23), near the end of the gospel, Jesus breathes on the disciples that they may receive the holy Spirit, reminding us again of Genesis and how God created man as he “breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and so man became a living being.” (cf Gn 2:7)

On this Pentecost day, we celebrate the coming of the Spirit to those first disciples, and we pray that the Spirit and his gifts help us continue Jesus’ mission of restoration.

Come, Holy Spirit; fill us with piety, that we may be drawn ever closer to the source of all love, the source of all peace, and the source of all joy.

Come Holy Spirit; fill us with wisdom that we might see the world as God sees it – an object of His love that we might also love as He loves us.

Come Holy Spirit; fill us with understanding that we might realize the particular mission you have for each one of us, the role we are to play in your divine plan.

Come Holy Spirit; fill us with knowledge of God’s commandments that we follow them in love and humility.

Come Holy Spirit; fill us with counsel that we may speak only your words and serve always with your love.

Come Holy Spirit; fill us with wonder and awe that we may see in your power and glory our shield and our protection that we might not fear anything of mere earthly origin.

Come Holy Spirit; fill us with fortitude that we might persevere in love despite those who persecute us as they persecuted our Lord and Savior.

Filled with the gifts of the Holy Spirit, we are at peace, the peace of Christ which he wishes on his disciples that first Easter night. 

Filled with the gifts of the Holy Spirit, we are freed from our wants and fears, released from ego and self-centeredness, and sent forth to love and to serve God and all others.

Filled with the gifts of the Holy Spirit, we work to restore the kingdom of God, that it be made more perfect here on earth, as it is in heaven. 

Amen, alleluia, alleluia, alleluia.