31 July 2022 - 18th Sunday of Ordinary Time – Ecclesiastes 1:2, 2:21-23, Luke12: 13-21

      It is hard to believe, but this summer marks 25 years since Princess Diana of England was killed in a tragic car accident in a tunnel in the city of Paris.  Not only being a famous princess, Princess Diana earned the love, respect, and admiration of many throughout the world for her charity work and for the way she reached out to the poor and oppressed of the world in great love and compassion. More than 2.5 billion people around the world watched her funeral on TV in 1997.  Her friend, singer Elton John, brought tears to the eyes of many when he sang his song “Candle in the Wind” at her funeral. Yes, the flame of a candle can go out so easily with the blow of wind. Indeed, our life here on earth is very fragile. We can live to an old age, or we can die when we are young, but all of us will die one day when our earthly lives will come to an end. 

     The words from the book of Ecclesiastes gets our attention this morning: “Vanity of vanities!  All things are vanity!”   On the surface, those words might appear pessimistic and cynical, but what do they really mean?  The Hebrew word “hebel” that is translated into the English word “vanity,” literally means breath or, more specifically, for the fleeting vapor we see when we breathe into cold air.  Ecclesiastes is telling us that life can be like a fleeting breath, filled with emptiness and futility.  We human beings often attach ourselves to material things, thinking that these things will make us more secure or more appealing, that these material things will satisfy our desires and our needs and make us feel like we have meaning in life. But these things often leave us empty and wanting more, especially when we compare them to the eternal life that awaits us in God’s kingdom.  Perhaps the message from Ecclesiastes is not very comforting as it calls us to reflect upon life and our earthly existence.

      Giving thanks to God is not only an essential part of our Christian faith, but gratitude and thanksgiving are important parts of our secular world as well. Think of how the holiday of Thanksgiving is an important part of the fabric of American society.  Saying thank you to someone is one of the first things we learn to do as a child. In today’s Gospel, the Jewish tradition of the rich man with a bountiful harvest would call upon him to give thanks to the Lord in the form of prayers, fasting, and almsgiving.  Yet, instead, the rich man hoards his riches, sharing them neither with God nor with his neighbor.  Instead, he plans to enjoy himself, to “eat, drink, and be merry.”  The values of our faith see him as foolish because he puts all his trust in his material treasures, not in God. He cannot see beyond himself, being selfish to his very core.  The rich man gave no thought to the poor and the hungry.  He did not think about the laborers who brought in the harvest for him. He feels no responsibility to share his blessings with them. This foolish rich man is perhaps exemplified by this Roman proverb: “Money is like sea water; the more a man drinks, the thirstier he becomes.” 

       This Sunday happens to be the feast day of St Ignatius of Loyola, the founder of the Jesuits.  Before his conversion of faith, Ignatius would have had an attitude very similar to the rich man in the Gospel.  Ignatius was born in the Basque Country of Spain in 1491, the year before Columbus sailed for America.  He was was the youngest of 11 children. He was trained to be a member of the royal court and to be a solider.  He lived the life of a knight in medieval Spain, which included partying and carousing and enjoying the material pleasures of life. However, while fighting at the Battle of Pamplona in 1621, he suffered a broken leg that had to be re-broken after it did not heal properly.  His friends carried him more than a hundred miles from the battle site back to his family’s ancestral home.  Ignatius was confined to his bed for a long period of time during his recuperation from his injuries, where he read books about saints such Francis of Assisi and about the life of Christ. This brought about a profound conversion of faith. After spending time living as a hermit in a cave and journeying as a pilgrim, he reflected profoundly on his life. He enrolled in the university of Paris at the age of 30 to become a priest, a very advanced age to be in formation for the priesthood in that era. He had to study Latin with young boys in order to get ready for his study of theology.  Even though Ignatius had turned his back on God for most of his early life, he now opened his life to God and to God’s will for him.  From the humble beginnings of his conversion, to the spiritual exercises he developed to help discern God’s will, to the way he saw gratitude and thanksgiving as an essential part of our journey of faith, Ignatius of Loyola went on to found the religious order of the Society of Jesus, commonly called the Jesuits, an order of priests that still has a great influence in Catholicism today. 

     St Ignatius of Loyola was able to get beyond the vanities that attracted him in life.  In our own life of faith, we can easily get distracted by vanities as well, things that can hold us back in our journey of faith. Our readings today call out to us to look at our priorities in life, at the things we consider to be our treasures. May we ask the Lord to help us grow in our holiness and to help us be true disciples. 

     I want to close with the Anima Christi prayer.  It is included in the beginning of the Spiritual Exercises which St Ignatius wrote.  Being that this prayer is very closely associated with St Ignatius, it is often been mistakenly attributed to him as to it’s authorship. However, Church historians believe that this prayer is probably several hundred years older than St Ignatius. This prayer recalls Jesus’ passion and his body and blood, which is why it is frequently said by individuals after receiving Holy Communion.

Soul of Christ, sanctify me.
 Body of Christ, save me.
 Blood of Christ, inebriate me.
 Water from the side of Christ, wash me.
 Passion of Christ, strengthen me.
 O Good Jesus, hear me.
 Within your wounds hide me.
 Permit me not to be separated from you.
 From the wicked foe, defend me.
 At the hour of my death, call me
and bid me come to you
 That with your saints I may praise you
For ever and ever. Amen.

7/31/2016 – 18th Sunday of Ordinary Time – Ecclesiastes 1:2, 2:21-23, Luke12: 13-21

      It is hard to believe, but this summer marks 19 years since Princess Diana of England was killed in a tragic car accident in a tunnel in the city of Paris.  Not only being a glamorous princess, Princess Diana earned the love, respect, and admiration of many throughout the world for her charity work and for the way she reached out to many of the poor and oppressed of the world in great love and compassion. More than 2.5 billion people around the world watched her funeral on TV in 1997.  Her friend, English singer Elton John, brought tears to the eyes of many when he sang his song “Candle in the Wind” at her funeral.   Yes, the flame of a candle can go out so easily with the blow of wind.

And our life here on earth can seem as fragile. We can live to an old age, or we can die when we are young, but all of us will die one day when our earthly lives will come to an end. 

     The strong words from Ecclesiastes really gets our attention this morning: “Vanity of vanities!  All things are vanity!”   These thought-provoking words seem on the surface to be very pessimistic and cynical, but what do they really mean?   The Hebrew word “hebel” that is translated into the English word “vanity”, is the Hebrew word for breath or, more specifically, for the fleeting vapor that we see when we breathe into the cold air.  The author of Ecclesiastes is telling us that life can be like a fleeting breath: filled with emptiness and futility.  We human beings often attach ourselves to material things, thinking that these things will make us more secure or more appealing, thinking that these material things will satisfy our desires and our needs and make us feel like we having meaning in life.  Often these things just leave us empty and wanting more, especially when we compare them to God and to the eternal life of God’s kingdom. We definitely don’t start out with a comforting message in our readings this morning, but rather it is a message that calls us to reflect upon life and our earthly existence.

      We know that giving thanks and expressing gratitude to God is not only an important part of our Christian faith, but gratitude and thanksgiving are important parts of our secular world as well.  Think of how the holiday of Thanksgiving is such an important part of the fabric of our American society.  And saying thank you to someone is one of the first things we learn to do as a child.   In the Gospel today, there is a rich man who is blessed with a bountiful harvest.   This rich man’s Jewish tradition would call upon him to give thanks to the Lord in the form of prayers, fasting, and almsgiving.  But instead, this rich man hoards his riches, sharing them neither with God nor with his fellow brothers and sisters.  Instead, he plans to enjoy himself, to “eat, drink, and be merry”.   Jesus calls this man foolish because he puts all his trust and values in the material things in the world, not in God.   The rich man is unable to see beyond himself, being selfish to his very core.  The rich man gave no thought to the poor and the hungry.  He did not think about the laborers who brought in the harvest for him.  He feels no responsibility to share his blessings with them.   The foolish man is perhaps exemplified by this Roman proverb: “Money is like sea water; the more a man drinks the thirstier he becomes.” 

       We contrast this rich man in the Gospel who was so self centered and so tied to the materialism of the world to the poor, humble French priest, Father Jacques Hamel, who was martyred last week in Normandy in France by two men who claimed to be militants with Islamic State.  Father Hamel, who was 86 years old, was still very active in his ministry, having served 58 years as a priest.  In contrast to the bitterness, anger, and hatred in the hearts of these terrorists who act out so violently against their fellow human beings, Father Hamel had this to say in a recent parish letter: “Let us hear the invitation of God to care for the world, to make the world we live in a warmer, more friendly, more human and fraternal place.”  What a wonderful, faith-filled outlook on life Father Hamel must have had.  Ironically, Father Hamel was martyred just outside the city of Rouen, the same city where seven centuries ago a young woman named Joan of Arc was burned at the stake, declared a heretic. Just 25 years after her death, Joan of Arc was declared a martyr of the faith and innocent of heresy.  She is now a beloved saint in our Catholic faith.

      In our life of faith, in our participation and membership in a parish, we can easily get distracted by vanities as well.  That can really hold us back in our journey of faith, because our relationship with our community of faith is so important to that journey.  Recently, a friend sent me an article entitled:  “5 ways to be unsatisfied with your church.”  It was written by a Protestant pastor, but I saw a lot of parallels with what happens in our Catholic parishes.  The first thing the author cited was having an attitude of consumerism, rather than the desire to truly participate and engage.  It seems like the consumeristic culture of our modern world has tried to take over almost every facet of our society.  We want the latest technology in our cars and in our homes.  We go to a movie theater expecting wide rows and extra padded seats that lean way back.  We come to church, and a lot of us have the same attitude.   Just like when a movie starts in the theater, some of us go to church, we sit in the pews and expect the production to begin.  We want to be entertained, and then want to leave, satisfied when it is all over.  The author of this article stated that some of the most dissatisfied of his congregation, and the most vocally critical, were the ones who would occasionally show up for the Sunday church service, but would not participate in religious education classes, service projects, and ministry within the church. It is easy to sit on the sidelines and just criticize, isn’t it?  There are a lot of parishioners here who are so intimately engaged in our parish in so many different ways.  But, it would be good if all asked ourselves:  Am I truly engaged in my parish?  Am I truly a member of my parish community?  Or do I just come with the attitude of a consumer? 

      Our readings today call out to us to look at the priorities we have in life, to look at the things we consider to be our riches and our treasures.  Lord, help us to grow in our holiness.  Help us to be loyal to our journey of faith.  Help us to be true disciples. 

8/4/2013 – 18th Sunday of Ordinary Time – Ecclesiastes 1:2, 2:21-23

I had posted the homily for the 18th Sunday in ordinary time earlier in the week. Due to tragic events that happened in the life of our parish, I have revised this homily to reflect these events.  We remember Mrs. Betty Montgomery, a beloved member of our parish, of the Tupelo community, and of the Yazoo City community where I served prior to coming to Tupelo.  We pray for the repose of her soul.  

        The reading from Ecclesiastes really gets our attention this morning with a very strong proclamation: “Vanity of vanities!  All things are vanity!”  These poetic words are very thought-provoking, they seem on the surface to be very pessimistic and cynical, but what does it really mean?  The Hebrew word “hebel” that is translated into the word “vanity”, is the Hebrew word for breath, or for the fleeting vapor that we see when someone breathes into the cold air.  Perhaps the author is telling us that life can be like a fleeting breath: it can ultimately be filled with emptiness, futility, and senselessness.  Unfortunately, we human beings often attach ourselves to things in this world that we think will make us more secure or more appealing, to things that we thinks will satisfy our souls.  But often these things just leave us empty and wanting more, especially when we compare them to God and to the eternal life we have in him.  Quite a somber reading we have to start our Sunday morning. I don’t think it is meant to be comforting or candy-coated.  Rather, it forces us to think about life and our earthly existence.

         Perhaps the writer of our reading from Ecclesiastes would be edified by the message that Pope Francis is trying to bring to our world in many different ways.  Recently, when Francis addressed a group of bishops in the cathedral in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, where he was attending Catholic World Youth Day, he told them that they needed to be more missionary, to get out of their offices and their cathedrals, to go to the places where the people were most in need of hearing the Gospel message.  Francis challenges us to get out of our parishes and out into the broader community, to go into the world and to dialogue with the reality that confronts us there. He courageously asks us to look at the pastoral needs around us, beginning on the periphery and the margins of where we live, with those who are farthest away, with those who perhaps do not often go to church. Francis tells us that we must not forget that everyone is welcome to the table of the Lord.

         So many people of our modern world approach the faith-filled life with skepticism and doubt.  Many think that the truth cannot be approached through the lens of faith, but rather through the experiences of life; experiences that many fill with a lot of worldly pleasures; experiences that often result in a lot of wrong turn and dead ends, more searching and longing. We in the Church are called to reach out in the midst of the experiences and reality of the people around us.  We are called to see the Holy Spirit alive and well in the world today, leading us and guiding us through life.  We are called to see the Holy Spirit leading us away from the trap that is mentioned in our reading from Ecclesiastes today, in the way modern man labors in his own wisdom and knowledge and skill, thinking that through them he can possess the truth and possess the meaning that will bring him purpose in life.  However, ultimately, most of us will realize that even these things are futile – our wisdom and knowledge and skill still won’t in themselves bring us eternal gladness and meaning. 

         But I don’t think that we as believers in faith are called to be fearful or distrustful or angry in the face of the reality that we face in our modern world.  We encounter a lot of people searching for something in their lives.  We in the Church can offer something in that search, even where so many in our society are like the rich man in the parable that Jesus tells in today’s Gospel, as we admire ourselves for the earthly treasures we accumulate and store up, as we think that others will admire us and value us for this same reason.  We store these futile things up in our lives, but how are we pursuing our heavenly treasures?  As Jesus challenged others to look at their lives in comparison to the values of the Gospel, so our Church offers an alternative to the futility of what we are find in our search for truth in the secular world.  We the faithful propose the way of Jesus, we offer him to the world as “the way, the truth, and the life.”   We are called to evangelize and preach the Gospel of Jesus through love, compassion, and response, in a way that is hopeful and life-affirming. 

         I wrote this homily earlier in the week – little did I know that events in my personal life and in the life of our parish would hit me like a ton of bricks, giving us a reminder of how fleeting and fragile how life itself can be.  In the middle of the week, I found out that a friend, a woman who is like a sister to me and who had a minor operation earlier this week, had things go very wrong and had to be put into a medically induced coma.  Things are still touch-and-go with her, as the doctors are not sure if she will make it through this.  Then, we lost a beloved member of our parish this week, Mrs. Betty Montgomery.  Betty had come to the vigil mass on Wednesday night, which was in honor of one of her favorite saints, St. Ignatius of Loyola.  In fact, Betty recently returned from Spain, having been on the Camino of St Ignatius as a pilgrim.  Then, on Thursday morning, on the morning we were offering mass for her dad, Betty passed away in that tragic accident after being hit by a vehicle on her morning walk.  However, we have reminders that God is still with us in the midst of our pain and suffering.  On the day of Betty’s funeral, we turned to our daily Catholic devotional in Give Us This Day to see that the reflection on the faithful person of that day was the Catholic author Flannery O’Connor, who died 49 years ago on that same day.  Everyone who knew Betty knew that Flannery was her “patron saint,” her hero in life, and the subject of her PhD dissertation.  We were touched by how Flannery was that at Betty’s side and at the side of Betty’s family in this special way in the face of this terrible tragedy. 

         We reach out to God in our reality, and he reaches back to us.   God meets us in our reality, in the joyful times and in those excruciatingly painful moments as well. The things of this world many seem futile and fleeting on so many levels, but God is there with us as well.