Rekindle The Flame

8^th Sunday Ordinary Time – Cycle A

Isaiah 49: 14-15; 1 Corinthians 4: 1-5; 

Matthew 6: 24-34

I love being a deacon. One of my favorite things that I get to do as a deacon is baptism. But there is one thing that bothers me about the baptismal ceremony. We light a baptismal candle, hand it to the godparents and instruct them that this candle symbolizes the light of Christ and it should always burn brightly. Then, when the blessing is concluded, the candle is blown out, taken home, and stored in the back of a closet, never to see the light of day again. That is something that needs to change.

These past few Sundays, we've been hearing Jesus' Sermon on the Mount. Today, as that sermon continues, we find Christ offering hope and reassurance to those who can surrender to God – to those who can trust in God. It is a concept that looks easy enough on paper, but putting it into practice is a completely different kettle of fish. Faith and commitment of this magnitude is something very few of us can ever hope to achieve. And yet Jesus asks us to do it.

“No one can serve two masters.” The things of this world matter not in the Kingdom of God. And yet – the things of this world are all that we know. We work, we earn our paychecks, we pay our mortgages, we buy our food and our gasoline, we educate our children. None of this happens by itself. We spend our whole lives laboring to provide ourselves and our families with these things. And maybe this is exactly what Jesus is warning us about.

I would like everyone everyone to stop for just a moment and recall what you did this past week. Make a list and arrange them in order of time and effort. Where does your job rank? First or maybe second? Now – where does worship rank? Or prayer? I would have to go down my list quite a bit to find either of these. Clearly something is amiss.

So what does Jesus expect us to do? Rearrange our whole lives and trust that God will provide? I don't know about you, but I would find that extremely difficult – maybe even impossible to do by myself. God never intended for this to be a solo project. God the Father, creator, loves us unconditionally and forgives us our shortcomings. Remember Isaiah? “Can a mother forget her infant, be without tenderness for the child of her womb? Even should she forget, I will never forget you.” He sent his only son, Jesus into the world. Through the incarnation, God has bridged the gap with humanity. Jesus, fully human, thinks the way that we think and feels the way that we feel. He experienced doubt, felt temptation and endured pain. Through the Holy Spirit, God's guiding hand continues to influence and inspire each of us. We don't have to do it alone.

Jesus knew that what he was asking us to do would be difficult. That is why he left us with so many wonderful gifts – to help us in our quest to seek God and to know him more fully – gifts like the Gospel, the sacraments, the church, and most especially, the Eucharist.

When I was a young man, fresh out of high school, I drifted away from the church. It wasn't because I no longer believed, it was because I couldn't be bothered. God and church were no longer important to me. Later I met my wife, got married and began a family. I began to realize that something was missing in my life. That something was God. I came to understand that without God, my life was incomplete. So I began to rediscover God. As for worship, I visited many churches, both Catholic and non-catholic. Some of the christian churches that I visited were nice. The singing was inspired. The preaching was quite good in some instances. But at the end of the service, I was left wanting more. Their service felt unfinished to me. Something was still missing and I eventually came to realize that what I was missing was the Eucharist.

There is something holy and mysterious about the Eucharist. We take ordinary bread and wine, gifts of ourselves, and bring them to our altar. And together with the priest, we participate in their transformation into the most sacred body and blood of Christ. But the transformation doesn't end there. As we come forward to receive, if we are open to the graces that the sacrament intends, we become the body of Christ. We become the tabernacle that holds our Lord. And we take Christ with us when we leave this place and go back to our homes and our lives. We take Christ with us.

I want you to look at the tabernacle for a minute. There next to the tabernacle is a lit candle. That candle burns continuously, proclaiming to the world that Jesus is present within that tabernacle. Every time we come to communion, come to receive that true body and blood of our Lord Jesus Christ, it's as if we are re-lighting our baptismal candle and and proclaiming to the world that God dwells within each of us. Carry that light of Christ proudly.

We rekindle that flame – that light of Christ – with every Eucharistic celebration. My prayer today is that each of us recognize and respect that flame. Use it's light to seek out the Kingdom. Use it's warmth to feel God's love. As we go forth, remember Jesus' words: “Seek first the Kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given you besides.”

Deacon Darryl J. Diemer

8th Sunday in Ordinary Time

February 27, 2011

Forgiveness

7^th Sunday Ordinary Time – Cycle A

Leviticus 19: 1-2, 17-18; 1 Corinthians 3: 16-23; 

Matthew 5: 38-48

  

The new Roman Missal goes into effect on the first Sunday of Advent this year. As a deacon, I am encouraged to sing the opening dialogue and conclusion of the gospel. This is very much out of my comfort zone. But it's something I'm going to have to get comfortable with.

Today's readings are challenging to all who claim to follow Jesus Christ. They are not easy and call for each of us to leave our comfort zone far behind. To use a familiar image, Jesus calls each of us to step out of the boat and walk on the water with him. Impossible? You might just think so after hearing today's scripture passages: “Take no revenge and cherish no grudge … Offer no resistance to the one who is evil … turn the other cheek … love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.” Some hear these words and claim that the Lord was setting an impossibly high standard. Only God could to this!

Perhaps they are correct. But Leviticus holds each of us to that same high standard - “Be holy, for I, the Lord, your God, am holy.” As I read that line, I began to wonder what God's holiness looks like. Today's psalm puts it this way: “The Lord is kind and merciful. He pardons all your iniquities, and comforts your sorrows. He redeems your life from destruction, crowns you with kindness and compassion.” This description of God is comforting. Each of us is called to be just as holy, just as compassionate, just as forgiving.

At every mass we stand together and recite the Lord's Prayer. Pay close attention to the words: “forgive us our trespasses AS WE forgive those who trespass against us.” We are praying that God use the same standards of judgment and forgiveness on us that we use on one another. I don't know about you, but this statement makes me uneasy. It's one thing to say “love your enemies” - it's a huge step to put this into practice however. I know it can be difficult but I've seen it done – and you have too.

Several years ago, a gunman walked into a one-room schoolhouse and opened fire on a group of Amish children. He killed five girls, wounded five others, and then killed himself. This was a tragic story, and needless to say, it made the news. As we sat in our living rooms watching the story, we recalled many other times a senseless tragedy had occurred – from Standard Gravure, to Columbine, to Virginia Tech. We've become somewhat numbed by the frequency of such events.

But there was something different about this story, something that awakened our senses, something that made this story continue to be on the news. The aftermath of this tragedy played out over the next several days as we witnessed a community's response to their tragedy. We saw them show forgiveness – not just by refraining from revenge, but by reaching out to the gunman's family and praying with them; by attending the gunman's funeral one day after burying their own children; and by taking up a collection to support the gunman's family.

Those of us watching from our living rooms as these acts of kindness and forgiveness unfolded had various reactions. Some thought it was commendable, but unrealistic. Many were awed by the Amish – amazed at seeing Jesus' gospel message come alive right before their eyes. Others sat and watched silently, tearfully as they wondered if they had the strength, the conviction to do the same. For some, that nagging thought remained in the back of their heads as they questioned if they could do as Jesus commands?

God knows how difficult it can be for us to forgive. He sent his Son, Jesus to earth, to become flesh, to live among us, to do what we do, and feel what we feel. Jesus Christ, fully human, experienced doubt, felt temptation and suffered pain. This command to love our enemies is difficult – but He asks us to do it anyway.

Today I look back on the events of five years ago and that question – could I do the same? - still tugs at my soul. Does it tug at yours?

Deacon Darryl J. Diemer

7th Sunday in Ordinary Time

February 20, 2011