Sixteenth SUNDAY OF THE YEAR
18 July 2010

Homily

This homily presented by Father George R. Szews, pastor.

Some times the gospel writers seem to leave out more than they put into
the stories they tell us about Jesus.
They leave unsaid more than they say,
they leave unclear more than they clear up.

I think that is particularly true of the story we’re given today by the Lucan author.

Three examples.

First. What are the “many” things that Martha is anxious about?
If we knew what those many things were that might change the whole
interpretation of this story.

Second. What is the “One” thing which Mary has chosen?
Again, the Lucan author never tells us what that is,
Jesus doesn’t tell us what it is.
Is it Jesus? Is it the Kingdom? Is it doing the right thing?
Is it listening to Jesus.
We never really know that Mary has chosen that is so much better than Martha.

That leads to the third example and the “rub” of the story.
The only thing that seems clear is that Martha has gotten something wrong.
Well, exactly what did she get wrong?
What exactly did she do that was wrong?
Is it sibling rivalry (in which case I’m in big trouble)?
Is it actually doing the hard work of fixing dinner for Jesus?
Jesus seems to thrive on OTHER people feeding him.
Could it be that she expects Jesus to do something she herself should do?
That’s my best guess.
She wants Jesus to straighten out her sister.

Mary it seems doesn’t want Martha changed,
But Martha wants Jesus to do something about Mary.

So often we do have agendas for other people.
It usually means we’ve made some judgement about them.
My agenda this week is that Jesus needs to change some of the folks in the Vatican.

Question of the week: How much of your prayer is about God fixing someone else?

FIFTEENTH SUNDAY OF THE YEAR

11 July 2010

Homily

This homily presented by Father George R. Szews, pastor.

Hugo (Alfredo Tale-Yax) was a 31-year-old immigrant from Guatemala.
Finding work as a day laborer in this economy has been all but impossible.
Hugo spent his days looking for work and his nights in public parks.

One Sunday morning in April Hugo was walking down a street in Queens
when he saw a man and woman having a loud, violent argument.
Hugo crossed the street to intevene.
The man swung around, stabbed Hugo several times in the stomach
And then fled along with the woman.
Hugo lay there in a pool of blood, on a public sidewalk unconscious for an hour.

There happens to be a surveillance tape of the whole incident.
It shows dozens of people passing by Hugo and doing nothing to help him.
Two people stopped and discussed the situation; one paused to take a picture.

Finally, someone bent down to shake Hugo and saw the blood. 
Police and emergency medical personnel were called - but it was too late. 
Hugo died.  Helping a stranger was the last act of a broken man.

There were lots of reasons those who passed Hugo didn’t help him.
Some thought him drunk.
Some were illegal aliens and didn’t want to contact the authorities.
Most of the others knew the first law of survival in the city is mind your own business.

The bottom line for all of us: We are the world we live in.
Jesus knows that hard fact: We are the world we live in.
He doesn’t try to make it prettier or cover it up with piety–
even and particularly the religious in his parable ignore the wounded stranger.
But he says: “I tell you, you can enter God’s kingdom which is being built now,
in this moment. Some times you are the victim,
some times you are the Samaritan, but in God’s kingdom,
you are always the neighbor.”

I am convinced that the real power of Jesus had nothing to do with bolts of lightening,
and multiplying loaves and fishes.
The real power of Jesus was the ability to help people see the vision of a different life.
A life where no matter whether you were the victim or the Samaritan,
you were always the neighbor.”
Question of the week is a reversal of the question.
“Who do you not see as your neighbor?”

Fourteenth Sunday OF THE YEAR
4 July 2010

Homily

This homily presented by Father George R. Szews, pastor.
 

My good friend Mike just found a new spiritual director.
A spiritual director is someone who can help him open himself more and more to the reality of God’s presence and grace in his life.

A relationship with a spiritual director is much like a relationship with a confessor
in that nothing is withheld from the spiritual director.
And, the spiritual director never divulges anything he or she learns.


I asked Mike why he chose the man he chose.
He said there are many reasons but one of them is the life he’s led.
“He was a Jesuit priest for a while, then a trappist monk,
then he left religious life altogether and became a very successful business man.
Now in his “last” stage of life, he has joined with several other people to
open place for spiritual direction.
The center is booming with more requests than they can handle.”

“Ah,” I said, “So you chose him because he has led so many lives and has so much experience?”

“No,” said Mike, “I chose him because he seemed not only able to notice the promptings of the
Spirit in his life but to actually go where Christ seemed to be telling him to go.
That not only takes an open heart but a courageous one as well.”

I’ve often wondered if there were more than 72 that Jesus told to go out with nothing,
and come back with no ego or vanity.
I’ve wondered if he started with 500 or a 1,000 but there were only 72
who wound up going.
72 who HEARD what he said and then had the COURAGE to do it.

I’d like to believe that all of us who come here week after week
are prompted by the Spirit throughout the intervening days of our meeting.
There are moments when our consciences kick us in the head or heart,
and show us what we are called to do or what we are called to be,
or where we are called to go.

It is the second part that of the equation that is always the most difficult for us.
I know it is for me.
One of the sad things for me as I look around our culture,
watch who joins us in this blessed communion each weekend
and those who choose to no longer come,
is that I am convinced the Spirit has not stopped whispering,
the consciences of people have not stopped prompting,
but it seems there are fewer and fewer people of courage,
who go and do and are what the Lord prompts.

So, my question of the week for you is
not, “Where is the Spirit leading you?”
not even, “Will you have the courage to go?”
But rather, “How will you encourage someone else?”

Courage is a deeply personal thing,
but I think it draws from a well of communal support.
We are after all meant to help each other....
It might be why Jesus sent them out in pairs......two by two.

 THIRTEENTH SUNDAY OF THE YEAR
27 June 2010

Homily

This homily presented by Father George R. Szews, pastor.
 

Today we hear one of the best lines, a play on words really, in the Lucan gospel.
James and John–the sons of Zebedee–remember?
Well, they are really the sons of “Thunder.”
Apparently a reference in real life to their loud and boasting ways.

In the gospel today, remember what they say when the Samaritan village
will have nothing to do with them?
“Lord, do you want us to call down fire from heaven to consume them?”

In other words: “Shall we the sons of thunder strike them with lightening?”
I think it’s meant to be a clever pun.

All cleverness aside, what they say reveals something about them doesn’t it?
What they say, what they do, says something about them and what they believe.
They’ve had a taste of the power of Jesus.
They are the ones who like that power, want it forever,
are trying to find a way to keep it–their mother asks for honored seats for them.

Jesus has to shake his head and say, “No.”

The Reverend Stephen Bauman is the senior pastor of Christ Church in NYC.
He’s written a book entitled:
Simple Truths: Our Values, Civility, and Our Common Good.

In the book he talks about the fact that all of us live our lives by a grand guiding principle.
He says all of us have a religion–that is we all have a grand guiding principle.
It directs what we do, how we act–especially when we’re on automatic pilot–
as I talked about last weekend.

He says that the way to discover your real religion, your real grand guiding principle,
is to look at what you leave in your wake as you pass through life.
If you are brave he says, you will ask several acquaintances to tell you what
they see you leave behind–
not people who love you–they might not see so clearly,
but people who know you.
They can tell you what you believe by what you leave in your wake.

So, that is the question of the week.
If you look behind you all week.
What have you left there? What does it say about what you believe?
Like James and John, the crash and burn of lightening,
or the fed hungry of the multitude?

TWELFTH SUNDAY OF THE YEAR

20 June 2010

Homily

This homily presented by Father George R. Szews, pastor.

 

Raymond Carver has a great story about a baker called “A Small Good Thing.”

A woman named Ann goes into a bakery.
She orders a birthday cake for her son, Scotty.
His birthday is on Tuesday. That’s the day Ann will pick up the cake.

The baker is a large man, gruff.
He’s owned that bakery for more years than he can remember,
working 16 hours a day.
He neither greets this woman nor thanks her for the order as she leaves.

On Tuesday Scotty is excited about his birthday,
gets ready as usual and goes off to school
On his way there he is hit by a car and rushed to a hospital.
At the hospital his parents Ann and Howard,
sit by his bedside anxious and sad.
It doesn’t look good.
Finally Howard goes home for a change of clothes.
There is an angry message from the baker.
“There is a $16 cake here waiting to be picked up.”

He does not call the baker but goes back to the hospital
where he learns Scotty has died.

The couple are devestated—however, for the next few days
they are bombarded by calls from the baker demanding his money.


Finally, they cannot take it any longer they go to the bakery
to confront the baker.
They tell him their son has died.

The baker is stunned. He says:
“Forgive me. I don’t think I am an evil man.
Maybe once long ago I was a different sort of person.
It seems like I have forgotten how to act.”
Some people look back on their lives and say,
“Wow, I’m so much a better person today than I used to be.”

But others of us say with the baker, “Maybe, once long ago, I was a better person.
It seems I’ve forgotten how to act.”

The challenge for any of us is to believe that we’ve got it all figured out,
we’ve got ourselves all under control,
and we really act according to what we believe.

It is not accidental that the Lucan Jesus says in the gospel today:
“You will pick up your cross daily.”

When this same Jesus says that we must deny ourselves,
he is suggesting that we take up our cross consciously,
rather than putting ourselves on automatic pilot.

It is when we put ourselves on automatic pilot,
that we get to where the baker was: “Maybe, once long ago I was a better person.
It seems I’ve forgotten how to act.”

Question: What parts of your life have you put on automatic pilot?

11th SUNDAY OF THE YEAR
13 June 2010

Homily

This homily presented by Father George R. Szews, pastor.
 

There is a Japanese folk tale about a very fine school that had outgrown its quarters. 
The master of the school approached many well-off townsfolk if they might help. 
Finally, a merchant said he’d give five hundred pieces of gold to the construction project.
 
With a great flourish the merchant presented the bag of gold to the master.
The master took the bag, but said nothing.
The merchant was a bit put off by the master's apparent lack of gratitude.
"In that bag are five hundred pieces of gold," hinted the merchant.
"Yes, you told me that before," replied the master.
"Even though I am a wealthy merchant,
five hundred gold pieces is a lot of money," said the merchant.
"It is.  Do you want me to thank you for it?" asked the master.
"Well, I think you should," the merchant responded.

But the master replied, "Why should I be thankful? 
It is the giver who should be thankful."

What do you think?
Is that really so true?
Anyone of us who is charitable expects some measure of gratitude in return don’t we?
Don’t we stop giving to the organizations who take us for granted,
who start using our gifts in ways we don’t like?

I think we do.
Our generosity we think gives us the right to judge who is deserving, who is not.

And yet for the disciple of Jesus, the lesson in today’s gospel is quite the opposite.
The woman was judged by all to be undeserving of forgiveness, grace, care....
She was undeserving of Jesus.
But would Jesus be who we say he is, if he cared only for the good folk
and not the difficult, not betrayers in his life?
More to the point, perhaps it was being generous to these people that shaped
Jesus into a savior we could recognize.

Question of the week: “How is my generosity shaping me?”

SUNDAY
30 May 2010

Homily

This homily presented by Father George R. Szews, pastor.
 

Most of you know by now my penchant/habit of ending most homilies with a question.
Many of you tell me that the questions are the most helpful part of the homilies.
Some of you have told me that I could just as well skip the homily and just give a
question of the week as it would save us all a lot of time.

I’m going to kind of, sort of, do that this weekend as we celebrate Trinity Sunday.

I’m going to do that because I once heard that there are really only three
important questions about God and those are your questions for the week.
Ready?

1. Does God exist?
2. If God exists, what is God like?
3. What does God have to do with us?

I could leave it at that but I want to give you just a bit of my answers to those questions.
You might come up with different answers. I hope not too different.

1. Obviously, I think God exists.
For me the existence of God is more than a possibility, more even than a probability.
I am as certain as I can be about anything in this world or the next that God exists.
I don’t have proof of that other than my own experience and insight.
In other words, I know this in a place in me beyond words, or perhaps before words.
In a place where hope and regret merge and collapse in on each other.
I feel it in my bones in the same way my father can tell a storm is coming up,
and my mother knows when one of her sons is sick.

2. What is God like?
Mostly, I know what God is NOT like.
As a child the best I could do was imagine that God was “superhuman.”
That is, God could somehow “achieve” what human’s couldn’t.
God could part the waters of the Red Sea. God could stop an atomic bomb from going off.
God, could cure cancer.
The problem with seeing God that way–as super human–is that then you have to blame
God for all that God doesn’t do, all the times God doesn’t fly across the sky
and rescue that pretty woman from the hands of that gigantic gorilla hanging off the
Empire State Buildilng.
If God is NOT that, the most common of our conceptions of God,
What is God like?
That is today’s feast:
God is like the ground of all being, the source of all life, the end of all life.
God is like reconciliation and peace, like healing and saving, God is like love–
But not the same as human love–but that’s as close as we get to it.
God is like our own breath–so near to us, the strength that gets us from moment to moment.

Father, Son, Spirit.

Now, for the last question: “What does that have to do with us?”
Well, that one I’m not going to answer at all?
If you can buy into the first two answers, you can come up with the question:
“What does God have to do with me?”