Sunday, June 25, 2017

Twelfth Sunday in Ordinary Time (Cycle A)

FEAR, SPARROWS and STRANDS OF HAIR
Jeremiah 20:10-13; Romans 5:12-15; Matthew 10:26-33

There’s an old proverb that goes something like this: “Fear less, hope more; eat less, chew more; whine less, breathe more; talk less, say more; hate less, love more; and all good things will be yours.” It's no accident that "fear less" tops the list. It was high on Jesus' list of priorities too. For in today’s Gospel, he presents us with two different kinds of fear – one healthy, the other unhealthy. 

If we’re honest with ourselves, we’d have to admit that we’re all afraid of something. And in our society, and in our current time, there are a variety of things that people fear. Chances are that if you watch the Eleven O’clock News, at night, you’re not going to have a restful night sleep. We fear being robbed, assaulted, being attacked by terrorists. We fear losing our jobs, not having enough, and that our families are falling apart. Some are afraid to make a decision about their own life or future, afraid to make a commitment. We're afraid of sickness, especially cancer. We’re afraid of death, our own or that of a loved one. We fear the rejection of others. And perhaps, the greatest fear of all: the fear that we are insignificant, that we really don’t make a difference. And I think that’s the unhealthy fear that Jesus addresses in today’s Gospel. 

“Do not be afraid. You are worth more than many sparrows,” our Lord tells his disciples in today’s gospel. Sparrows are those little brown birds that seem to be everywhere. Ever-present. Unimportant. Unimpressive. Unassuming. 

Sparrows are not majestic like eagles, or sore gracefully in the wind like seagulls, or squawk noisily like crows. You probably don’t realize it, but there are fifteen different species of sparrows here in America. But I’ve never heard of anyone going “sparrow watching.” Normally, we don’t even bother to pause and look at them because they’re so ordinary - so ordinary that in Jesus’ day, two sparrows were sold for a small coin – one-sixteenth of a denarius, or about a penny. Nevertheless, Jesus tells us even a single sparrow’s well being is not too small a concern for God. God knows every movement of that sparrow. How much more is God concerned with those whom Jesus says are worth more than an entire flock of sparrows. 

So much worth we have in the eyes of God that He has numbered the hairs on our head, the freckles on our nose, the flecks of amber in our eyes, the ridges on our fingertips, the fears in our heart. God knows us, loves us and believes in us, even as we struggle to believe in Him. We may be persecuted, but we are loved, we are redeemed and we are called by name. Even though at times we may feel small, worthless and of no significance whatsoever, that’s how God our Father feels about us. We are not sparrows. We are His sons and daughters, ones that God loves so much that He allowed His Son to die for us. 

Notice that in this passage, God never promises that the sparrows won’t fall. Rather, God promises that when they fall, He is there. Even Jesus wasn’t spared pain, persecution, and suffering. He was tempted, insulted, betrayed, beaten and ultimately killed in a shameful and horrific way. Yet, from his broken and bruised body, flowed the blood and water of the world’s salvation. 

But in the same gospel where he reassures us to “Fear no one,” not even the one who would kill the body, Jesus goes on to say, “Be afraid of the one who can destroy both soul and body in Gehenna (in hell). And of course, that’s God. Fear God. That’s the healthy fear that Jesus refers to in today’s gospel. But Fear of God is a biblical concept that’s often misunderstood. Fear of God is not fear of retribution. It’s not a fear of God’s wrath that must become the dominant pattern of our life but rather an abiding awe before a provident, all-merciful God. Fear of God means that we should respect God, reverence God, and be infinitely more concerned with fulfilling the Law of God than with the way others might respond to our Christianity. 

If we live with a reverence and respect for the Lord, in the biblical “Fear of the Lord,” then all those concerns of ours that the evening news delights in frightening us with diminish. Will the world end this year? Maybe . . . probably not. But it doesn’t matter as long as we are united to God. Will World War III erupt when we least expect? Maybe . . . probably not. But it doesn’t matter as long as we are united to God. Will a tornado devastate New Jersey, destroying our homes and futures? Maybe . . . probably not. But it doesn’t matter as long as we are united to God. Will people attack us, reject us, alienate us, persecute us for being Christian? Maybe . . . and probably they will: 

  • Because those in power who lord it over others will certainly be upset by a Gospel which call us to service. 
  • Because those who would exclude people because they are poor, or they are addicts, or they are gay, or they are women, or they are children will certainly be upset by a Gospel which calls us to include all in God’s plan, in God’s love. 
  • Because those who would wage war – those who live as if violence and retribution were the answer to our hurts and fears will be upset by a Gospel which calls for peace, which calls us to turn the other cheek. 
  • Because those who would kill – the unborn child, the convict on death row, the elderly person, the handicapped person will certainly be upset by a Gospel which calls for a reverence for all life. 
  • Because those who would harbor hate and refuse to love because of hurt inflicted and imposed will certainly be upset by a Gospel which calls us to forgive seventy times seven times. 
“BE NOT AFRAID!” Jesus tells us today in our gospel. But you know what? I recently read that that phrase is found 365 times in the Bible. So BE NOT AFRAID, isn’t just something Jesus wants us to hear today. It’s a message he wants to reassure us with every day of the year. So even if they do attack us, reject us, alienate us, and persecute us, it doesn’t matter, as long as we are united to God. We do not fear the world because we fear God: reverent of his providence and power, respectful of his law, in awe of his love, mercy and generosity.  

I think probably St. Teresa of Avila best summed up what Jesus was trying to get across in today’s gospel. This is called “St. Teresa’s Bookmark.” It was found on a prayer card in her breviary after she died in 1582: 
Let nothing disturb you; 
Let nothing frighten you. 
All things are passing. 
God never changes. 
Patience obtains all things. 
Nothing is wanting to the one who possesses God. 
God alone suffices.

Saturday, June 24, 2017

2017 Mission Trip Cross

GOD: THE BEGINNING & END OF ALL THINGS
JESUS: THE CENTER OF MY LIFE
Tonight we recognize, affirm, bless and send off the thirty-two teenagers and college students and 14 adults from St. Therese who tomorrow journey from the hills of western New Jersey to the mountains of Appalachia on this year’s mission trip. They go as our representatives and in God’s name to minister to the Dunlow, West Virginia community to build houses, playgrounds and ballfields, but more than that . . . to build awareness of a God who has not forgotten nor abandoned them; a God knows them intimately, who has counted every hair on their heads, heard their prayers, knows their needs and loves them far more than he does the sparrows, who too rely and depended upon him.

And so, as a physical sign of the blessed and noble task before them, tonight our forty-six missionaries will receive their mission trip cross. On the left and on the right of the cross that they will receive are two Greek letters – the same letters that are on the base of our altar: the Alpha and the Omega. They’re the first and last letters of the Greek alphabet and are symbolic of the eternity of God, the One who is the beginning and end of all things. Intertwined at the center of the cross are two more Greek letters: The Chi and the Rho. These are the first two letters of the Greek word CHRIST and is one of the earliest Christian symbols. And so, my friends, by this cross, may you be reminded daily that Christ must be the center of your lives. From the beginning of your journey tomorrow morning when you leave our parking lot, till you return again next Saturday: CHRIST! From the time you wake up early each morning in the coming week, until you shut your eyes in exhaustion that night: CHRIST! From the beginning of one work project to its completion: CHRIST! And from the beginning of your life to the end of your life: CHRIST!

Each of you, either tomorrow or Monday morning will receive a prayer card which I feel speaks so beautifully of what your cross symbolizes. On it is the Breastplate of St. Patrick. I ask you to pray it every day to remind yourself of your noble mission: In part it says:

Christ with me,
Christ before me,
Christ behind me,
Christ in me,
Christ beneath me,
Christ above me,
Christ on my right,
Christ on my left,
Christ when I lie down,
Christ when I sit down,
Christ when I arise,
Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me,
Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks of me,
Christ in every eye that sees me,
Christ in every ear that hears me.
Salvation is from the Lord.
Salvation is from the Lord.
Salvation is from the Lord.

Sunday, June 11, 2017

A Remembrance

Theresa Olsen
November 14, 1925 - June 11, 1998
Nineteen years.
You would think after all this time it would be easier.
You would think after all these years I would miss her less.
But it doesn't.
And I don't.

When you're young you can't wait to be independent . . . 
To show the world you don't need anyone . . . 
That you can make it on your own.
But you're not.
And you do.
And you can't.

My generation didn't have mobile phones
to take snapshots of every moment of life. 
But snapshots fade or get deleted
I have MURALS . . . 
CANVASES . . . 
WORKS OF ART, 
In my mind 
And in my heart,
That are there forever - 
Unfading 
Permanent.

I wish I could show them to you!
I wish you could see
All the joy, 
Some of the pain
That tells me to this day 
That I was loved -
Totally . . . 
Unreservedly . . . 
Unconditionally.

Nineteen years.
You would think after all this time it would be easier.
You would think after all these years I would miss her less.
But it doesn't.
And I don't.
And although the male ego is loath to admit it,
An adult is a nothing but a graying balding boy - 
A boy who still 
Misses
Loves
Needs
His Mom.

For those of you who are still fortunate enough
to have your Mom no further than a phone call away,
Don't put it off!
Call her RIGHT NOW!
Tell her that you love her!
Because someday you won't be able to.
Someday all you will have . . . 
(Hopefully you will have)
Murals
Canvases
Works of art
of all the joy,
some of the pain
That warm the heart
But ultimately never satisfy.
Deacon Bruce Olsen
June 11, 2017