Recent Homilies of Father George R. Szews
SEVENTH SUNDAY OF EASTER
ASCENSION
4 May 2008
Homily
This homily presented by Father George R. Szews, pastor.
Archbishop Harry Flynn of the Archdiocese of St. Paul and Minneapolis will soon retire.
It will be a new experience for this man who only
reluctantly agreed to be an bishop
and then more reluctantly agreed to be an archbishop.
He truly is one of those men who never sought rank or privilege–
He is also one of those people whom God led along a path he could not have guessed.
As he faces retirement he has no clue what will happen or what it will be like.
In a recent column in the archdiocesan newspaper he told the story of Mother Theresa.
In Calcutta at the headquarters where Mother Theresa used to live–
they feed quite a number of people every day.
One day the sister in charge of feeding the hungry came to Mother Theresa and said
there was nothing, not one bit of food in the house, not even for the sisters.
Mother Theresa said, “We’ll kneel down and pray.”
As Mother Theresa says, “We knelt down to pray and
within a short period of time the telephone rang.
It was the airport manager. There was a strike and no planes would fly
out of Calcutta that day. It meant there was all this airline food
which had to be given away before it spoiled.
On this day and for days to come, the hungry were fed much better
than they usually were.”
Harry Flynn however, asks the important question: “What if the phone had not rung?
What if there had been no food that day?
What would she have done?”
In fact, there are days when the phone doesn’t ring, when we are not rescued,
when things do not work out.
We are still called to be disciples even on those days.
On this feast of the Ascension we are left once again with this great picture of the disciples
standing there and we are told they worshiped by they doubted.
They are still disciples but they have to go off into the world–
knowing that the phone may ring some times, some times it may not.
We don’t live our lives based on being rescued, on counting on miracles.
We live our lives based on a relationship with the Lord.
We live our lives because we have come to believe this is the way to live.
That will always be the hard thing–to remain convinced that living as Jesus would have us,
is still worth it–especially on the days the phone doesn’t ring.
Archbishop Flynn was led along the way as a disciple, not because there were miracles.
Where is Jesus leading you this week–without the promise of miracles,
but still leading you?
SIXTH SUNDAY OF EASTER
27 April 2008
Homily
This homily presented by Father George R. Szews, pastor.
It is so poignant, so touching today as Jesus says to the disciples:
“I will not leave you orphans.
I will not leave you alone.
I will come to you.”
He reads the fear in their hearts so well,
in ours too.
We’re told that in the very beginning–God said, “It is not good for man to be alone.”
From the very beginning you and I were not meant to live as solitary individuals,
caring only for ourselves, our own needs, our own futures.
We, you and I were meant for companionship.
We, you and I were meant for love.
We know that from the inside.
We don’t need scripture to tell us that.
But maybe what we do need Scripture to remind us is that our loneliness–
is not just about connecting with one another.
Our loneliness is about connecting with God.
That piece of us which is never satisfied can only be satisfied by God,
we are incomplete not only without each other,
we are incomplete without God.
The really unfair part I think about being human is that we will never really be complete this side of heaven. That even the great saints–Mother Theresa–knew and felt deeply throughout her life the absence of God. Maybe that loneliness is the cost of being human. Maybe it is that loneliness which reminds us daily that we have to go out of ourselves–to meet one another–and here and there to meet God along the way.
Fifth Sunday of the Year
20 April 2008
If you could ask Jesus for just one thing...what would it be?
A lottery winning ticket?
Health for your beloved or yourself?
Or would you be less selfish, more globally minded?
An end to war?
An end to poverty?
A new pope? A new pastor?
In the scene we get from the farewell discourse at the last supper,
two disciples ask Jesus for something today.
Did you catch their questions?
Thomas asks: “Show us the way you are going?”—that is after death.
And Philip: “Show us the Father?”
These are big things the disciples ask,
These are really things which bother the heck out of us as well.
It doesn’t matter that Jesus tells us not to let our hearts be troubled.
These are the central questions for humankind.
First: We want to see–to be able to picture what is beyond death–if anything.
We’d all feel a lot better about living and believing
if we could just know what to expect–if anything.
Second: No one has seen God–not even Moses who heard God’s voice in a burning bush.
Seeing God would make all the difference in our believing wouldn’t it?
Thomas and Philip ask the big questions–
And even after these questions have been asked of Jesus—
None of us has seen where has gone.
None of us has seen the Father.
At least we don’t think so.
Jesus does. He says: “I am the answer to both of those questions.”
What the heck?
I think the disciples were as mystified by the answer as we are–
and I think they are as unsatisfied as we are.
We’re still here straining to see beyond death,
still here straining to see beyond humanity to divinity.
Because the answer can’t be that simple.
Or, because we don’t like the answer.
Or, because Jesus could have been nuts.
What if Jesus is right though?
What if he is what life looks like–eternally?
What if he is what God looks like–eternally?
If he is where I am going and who I am going to
how does that change the way I live today?
That is the question of the week?
FOURTH SUNDAY OF EASTER
13 April 2008
Homily
This homily presented by Father George R. Szews, pastor.
For a long time there was an article sitting on top of my desk that I intended to read.
The title of the article: “Promises we never intend to keep.”
I was intrigued by the title.
Are there promises we never intend to keep?
I suppose when we were children, we promised our parents–
we’d be good if only they got us this or that toy,
or let us stay up later,
or, when we got a bit older, if they forgave us this time–
we’d never do it again.
Or, when we got even older, we promised someone important to us–
if they forgave us this time, we’d never do it again.
Or, when we got older still, we promised God–
if only we survived this attack of cancer we’d be changed person.
I have to believe that everyone here has made some promise like this.
And, I suppose in those moments of desperation
we really did intend to keep those promises.
But I suppose also, even in those moments of desperation,
we knew who we really were
and the likelihood of our keeping those promises was pretty slim.
The article I never read was about the promises that those who are baptized as adults,
those who are received into the church, make at the time of their baptism and reception.
The promise to renounce evil.
While I never read the entire article–probably because I didn’t want to be reminded
of the promises I have never kept–
I do know that at least part of the point of the piece was that
those who promise to renounce evil can’t possibly know all the ramifications
Of that promise. How far reaching it really was.
We get a glimpse of it in the second reading today when the Petrine author
lays out the demanding role of a disciple–
who suffers for doing good–and is patient in that suffering.
Who when insulted returns no insult.
Who when caused to suffer does not threaten in return.
Who simply bears evil inflicted on him or herself for some greater good.
These are part of the promises made–
theoretically by all of us at our baptism.
Can we keep these promises?
The truth is we can all do a better job of keeping them.
Patient suffering.
Returning no insult for insult.
Not threatening or punishing when we are hurt.
Bearing evil.....
Which part of the promise will you keep this week?
I’m sure each of us will be afforded some opportunity.
THIRD SUNDAY OF EASTER
6 April 2008
Homily
This homily presented by Father George R. Szews, pastor.
During World War II, Meyer Hack spent four years at the Nazi concentration camp–Auschwitz.
He worked in the camp’s laundry,
processing clothing the Nazi’s confiscated from the camp’s new arrivals.
He would occasionally find jewels and other valuables in the pockets
or sewn in the linings–things not found by the Nazi’s.
He kept these items hidden in a sock in his barracks.
When the camp was liberated he secreted these items out of Europe.
He came to America after the war and with his wife Sylvia raised two sons.
He kept the jewelry hidden–
It was a reminder to him of what had happened.
Finally, only recently Meyer Hack revealed that he had these items:
pocket watches, brooches, a bracelet of gold and emerald.
They will go to the Holocaust Museum in Jerusalem.
Why did he keep these things secret for all these years?
A friend of his explained: “He didn’t think anyone would understand.
Then when he realized these items could be used to tell the story
of what happened–he had to reveal them.”
Hack himself, said, “We have to tell the world what happened.
My diary is written on my heart. I have to tell the world what I saw.”
In some ways, Peter, in the first reading is much like Meyer Hack.
For a time we know Peter stayed silent about what he saw, what he knew–
afraid really folks wouldn’t understand it.
But that knowledge built up like a flood in him–
and this weekend we find the disciples not locked away in an upper room,
but Peter boldly confessing his faith–
telling everything he knows about Jesus.
He tells what he saw, what happened, and what was written in his heart.
In that way, Peter is the model for all of us.
Is it possible for us to be a disciple of Jesus and not confess it out loud,
Not speak about it?
Like the earliest disciples last weekend who lived out of a common pot,
we say things have changed, that’s not our life, that’s not our way of being faithful.
This weekend, I think if we’re at all honest, we’re more like the afraid Peter,
locked in an upper room.
The flood may be building in us but we’re sure folks wouldn’t understand.
Our friends and relatives who have left the church feel quite free
To talk about their negative feelings and thoughts to us,
But we are not so brave to speak to them about our faith,
what we have seen and what is written in our hearts.
What is the good news this weekend?
It is this, I think, Both Peter and the disciples on the road to Emmaus who were so discouraged
and quiet, eventually do speak.
They speak not only with words but with actions of their faith.
The two disciples for sure are examples of how they were emboldened
by their eucharistic sharing to tell what they had seen and heard and knew.
Question of the week:
In what way will this eucharist encourage you to share your faith this week?
Faith which stays inside us, like all things deprived of fresh air, smothers too easily.
SECOND SUNDAY OF EASTER
30 March 2008
Homily
This homily presented by Father George R. Szews, pastor.
Several weeks ago I was riding along with Phil out to the religious education program at St. Bedes.
We had to stop at Ron’s Castle Foods to pick something up.
I said to Phil, “You pick up the stuff Flo asked for, I’m going to go buy a Powerball ticket.”
Phil said, “Sure. If you win you’re going to share some of the money with me aren’t you?”
I laughed, went off, bought the Powerball ticket; Phil picked up the items we needed
and we were on our way.
Phil though, was on to the Powerball ticket like a bulldog on steak.
“You will share with me if you win, won’t you?”
“What if I don’t win?” I said.
“Well, then of course you don’t have to share.
I don’t want to share in a poor man’s life. I want to share in a rich man’s money.”
He laughed. But he was deadly serious.
We all want to improve our lot in life.
I haven’t met anyone lately who wants to downgrade.
That is the curious thing about the earliest Christians–
somehow so alive and focused after the death and resurrection of Jesus.
We’re told they sold everything and lived out of a common pot.
How many of them improved their lot?
How many of them downgraded?
I don’t know that they thought that way.
That didn’t matter.
What did matter to them more than anything
was this new experience of life that they had.
They had a new purpose and they would do anything to achieve that purpose.
What they found was that possessions got in the way, tied them down,
made them less likely to live fully this new life in Christ.
They knew what we know in our bones–
that we are too attached to things,
To this life and not enough attached to God.
So how do we get from where we are to where they were?
I don’t know.
I don’t know that anyone here wants to today–maybe some day, but not today.
Or, if we do, we want to do it painlessly.
Like Thomas, we are cautious.
We may have thrown our lot in with this band of unlikely’s–
but we’ve only stepped in to the water ankle deep.
We will never commit everything we have and are to this adventure.
The good news this weekend is that even if we do not, Jesus comes to us again–
as he came to the disciples again and again, to Thomas.
Jesus does wait on us and occasionally coaxes us into the water a little deeper
with reminders of our mortality.
Like the two guys in the Bucket List–that movie about two guys doing things
they put off doing until they were certain they were going to die,
As we mature it does become clearer and clearer to us,
what is important, what is not,
What is not real–ghostly promises of fame and fortune,
And what is: nail holes and wounds, and death, and a God
who will make a home for us on the other side of the grave.
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