In today’s gospel, when Jesus says, Father, hallowed be your name, we shouldn’t underestimate how surprising that was to his audience. The Jews had names for God, such as Adonai or El Shaddai, but only rarely referred to Him as Father. Nevertheless, Jesus taught them in their prayers to regularly call God exactly that.
That’s why even today we begin our liturgical reading of New Testament letters with the phrase, Brothers and sisters. Now as then, calling God Father makes us family. And then, as now, there were tensions in the family. We hear about it in the first reading. St. Paul is furious; someone went to the Galatians after him and contradicted his teaching. We can almost feel his anger and resentment as he tells of having to go to the reputed pillars – Peter, James, and John – just as we can almost feel his triumphalism at calling Peter out publicly for his segregating with Jews when in company with Gentiles.
No doubt some of this is Paul’s pride at work. He said at the beginning of the letter that his Gospel came from Christ, and not even an angel preaching a different one would make him change (Galatians 1:8), and he’s been preaching it for a long time to a lot of people. Still, he knows there is structure to the family; Peter, James, and John have the power to frustrate him, to stop his missionary work. He may not like it, but he submits, goes to Jersusalem, sees the three Apostles, and presents his gospel to them. In the end, unity is preserved; they exchange the “right hand of fellowship.”
The question for us is, when is our own pride driving a wedge in the family? Do we ever lord our status (whatever that is) over others, or act as if our understanding is perfect and all that matters? Do we resent it or get angry when others exercise legitimate authority over us? Do we look for ways to get even, or find ways to hurt or humiliate them?
The fruit of pride is disunity, the exact opposite of Christ’s prayer that we may all be one, just as he is one with the Father (John 19:21). Rather, let us pray for humility, for its fruit is unity. The readings today are a reminder that, although we in the Church are wounded and broken, we are one: One in calling God our Father; one in receiving the daily bread of Christ, His Son; and one in asking forgiveness of Him and each other in the Holy Spirit, the infinite and perfect bond of unifying, self-sacrificing Love.
The parable of the talents is one we’re all very familiar with. Ironically, such familiarity actually works against us, for parables are at their best when they surprise us, present us with a riddle or twist that teases us into deeper contemplation about its meaning and its relevance to our lives.
One aspect of the parable that might still be surprising concerns the talents themselves, specifically their value. In our Lord’s time, a talent was worth about 6000 silver pieces, or 20 years of wages. By using such vast sums of money (the parable goes up to 100 years’ worth), it certainly seems like Jesus wanted us to wonder what all that wealth could possibly represent.
The fact is, we really don’t know. Some scholars see them as our abilities, the God-given gifts we are born with; we still use the word “talents” for those to this day. Maybe, but Jesus tells us in the parable that each servant got a different amount of talents according to his ability (25:15); so, there are talents and there are abilities. I tend to agree with those who see the talents as riches of a different kind; specifically, the thousands of opportunities we are given by God over the course of our lives to show people what it means to be a disciple of Christ; to be his hands at work in the world.
What opportunities am I talking about? I think some of the best examples are right in front of us, in our own homes, with the people who are most familiar to us. Research on the family shows that while family members are actually spending more time together than before, they are also alone more often. It’s called “being alone together,” and you may have seen it: A family at dinner, perhaps at a restaurant, sits together and eats together, but spends most of that time interacting by themselves with their hand-held device. Imagine being the one in the family who asks them to put those things away and spend that time with each other. We also know that, as people age, they spend more and more time alone. Imagine being the neighbor who invites them over, or regularly visits them. And, as we all sadly know, many of our young people rarely if ever go to church, and know nothing at all about God. Imagine being the relative who invites them to the church youth group to meet new kids, eat, have fun, and see where those interactions lead. Is such a person always popular for having spoken up or done what they did? No. But is it the charity spoken of by St. Paul in the first reading, or the new commandment Jesus spoke of in John’s gospel? You already know the answer.
Of course, these are just three examples, but they and thousands more show that what Christ is looking for isn’t skill or experience, but boldness and humility. Consider the first two servants; they knew they weren’t skilled bankers or investors, yet they doubled their master’s money. How? By doing what good servants do: they watched their master, learned from him, then imitated him as Jesus said: Immediately. They didn’t know when he would return; all they knew was that he gave them this opportunity and empowered them to act in his name. Unlike the third servant, they didn’t waste time worrying, overthinking, or second-guessing themselves or their master. Rather, they did what St. Paul advised: minded their own affairs and worked with their own hands. That’s what the master would do, so it’s what they did.
There’s an old saying that fortune favors the bold. Here and throughout the gospels, Jesus makes it clear that he favors the bold in faith with a fortune only he can give: a share in the Master’s joy. Who doesn’t want that kind of talent?
The readings today speak of two of the greatest gifts we can receive from our heavenly Father – peace and unity. St. Paul reminds us that it is the pursuit of excellence that leads us to God and the peace only he can give. In the gospel, Jesus teaches that perfection is nothing less than unity with the Father; again, a gift that only God can give.
When I think of excellence and perfection in life, I can’t help but think of the saints, for these are the men and women who went out of their way to achieve both. I’m especially glad that we remember St. Philip Neri today, for his life provides a view of sanctity that is too often missing from the popular imagination.
I say that because it seems to me that most people in our time see the saints as stained glass stereotypes; living in a perpetual state of sadness and gloom, cloistered from the world and everything in it. It’s as if they really believe the old pop song lyrics, “I’d rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints. The sinners are much more fun.”
That’s why I like St. Philip Neri; he is exactly the opposite. Far from sadness and gloom, St. Philip was noted for his cheerfulness, going so far as to say that “Cheerfulness strengthens the heart and helps us to persevere. A servant of God should always to be in good spirits.” And far from running away from the world, Philip was born to engage it; charismatic, charming, and quick to smile, he was one of those people who lifted the spirits of a room just by walking into it. It says a lot about him that his favorite books were the Bible and his joke book. He was silly enough to walk around Rome with half his beard shaven off, and solemn enough to bring a congregation to tears. He was the scholar who taught the simple, the joker who consoled the sorrowful, the friend who welcomed every stranger, and the priest who reached out to every sinner. We call him the patron saint of laughter not simply because he excelled at making people laugh, but because he did it for the reasons St. Paul spoke of: That they might calm their anxiety, approach the Lord in prayer, and come to know the peace of Christ that surpasses all understanding (Philippians 4:4-7). This was grace at work in him for their sanctification and his own.
St. Thomas Aquinas taught that grace perfects nature, and like all the saints, this is what St. Philip Neri shows us. The gifts God gave him – a jovial personality, the ability to relate to people, a brilliant mind, everything that made him who he was – were not meant to be replaced or suppressed; on the contrary, they were given to be made more excellent by the working of grace. What’s more, God graces each saint with their own unique gifts. Sanctity is not a matter of becoming more like someone else; it is becoming who we are. God doesn’t want another Philip Neri, He wants us, and he wants us to use the gifts He has given us, that through us people might know the peace of God and draw closer to Him and each other.
This is the unity Christ had in mind when he said, that they may be brought to perfection as one, that the world may know that you sent me, and that you loved them even as you loved me (John 17:23). No wonder St. Paul said to rejoice! If knowing the infinite love of God is what it means to be saint, then I’m with St. Philip Neri; I’d rather laugh with the saints than cry with the sinners. The saints are much more fun.
“We hold these truths to be self-evident…” “Four score and seven years ago…” “I have a dream…”
Every one of us recognizes these phrases, but what is it about them that makes them so unforgettable? Is it their eloquence, or the passion that drove men to speak them? No, it’s what they’re speaking about; powerful truths like liberty, justice, and equality, that resonate in the heart of every person, across time.
Today, another phrase, just as powerful and resonant, appears. We don’t know who wrote it, or who spoke it for the first time; all we have are the words, It is the decision of the Holy Spirit and of us… (Acts 15:28). Where’s the power or resonance in that? Think for a moment. Before this, when men spoke for God, as in the prophets, we heard things like, “The word of the Lord came to the prophet…” But not here; these are men, gathered together, praying, talking, arguing, trying to resolve a difficult and divisive issue. This phrase dares to say that, as they did so, God didn’t decide for them, he decided with them. Who are they to make such a claim?
Jesus told us in the gospel exactly who they are: Men, chosen by him, appointed to go and bear fruit. Vested with his authority, given the keys of the Kingdom, and gathered in his name, these men also received his promise, the Holy Spirit, who would lead them into all truth (John 16:13). Note: Lead them, not tell them.
History bears witness to this. Every time the Church has been confronted with issues that threaten her unity, such as this one, her leaders have met in what is called a Council. To date, there have been 21 of these “ecumenical”, or worldwide, Councils, each taking the same form: Bishops gather, debate, pray, and decide. Emotions can run high, words can get sharp, and the issues can take days or even decades to work through. Still, and every time, decisions are reached, written down, and published for the world to see.
And, as we hear, the process works. Luke tells us that the people were delighted with the exhortation (Acts 15:31). Some Councils have ended this way. At Ephesus for example, bishops were hoisted up by the people in a joyful parade. At the end of others, like Vatican I, some bishops have run for their lives. Regardless, each Council has done what it set out to do, always in union with the Holy Spirit and collaboration with each other.
The secret to making it work was given by Christ in the gospel in another unforgettable phrase: Love one another (John 15:17). It is love – the love of a Master who humbles himself to be a friend; who holds nothing back; who reveals everything to his friends; who not only chooses but also empowers them to do as he has done: to hold love for one another as the highest value, even to the giving of their own lives.
The readings today remind us that we have a lot to be thankful for. First, that God has given us the Church, to which we can turn for answers, confident that God himself leads her into all truth. Second, that God has given us the Holy Spirit in many ways, not least of which is what the Second Vatican Council called the “sense of the faithful” – that inner voice that helps us discern what is truly of God. Finally, that God has given us himself, for God is love, and it is his love that binds us together. Like the bishops, we face problems with the world and sometimes with each other. But, if we keep in mind that we always gather in his name, and pray to be led by the Holy Spirit as he leads the Church, then even though we may not come up with many solutions, we will come to a deeper understanding and love of God, ourselves, and each other. The key is unity; to paraphrase Fr. Henri Nouwen, our best solutions are words and actions that do not divide but unite, that do not create conflict but unity, and that do not hurt but heal.
My family and I had the good fortune of going on a pilgrimage to Italy. The churches we visited were, to say the least, breathtaking; each in its own way a masterpiece of art and architecture. It was easy to be overwhelmed by the splendor of it all.
While exploring one of them, I happened to look toward the main altar. A small group of people were gathered in a roped-off space. I assumed it was a tour group waiting for a talk to begin. When I looked back later, I saw that in fact it was people attending Mass. I suddenly realized that, wandering through that majestic space, I got lost in the outward beauty but forgot the deeper one. I was encountering art; they were encountering God.
As the first reading reminded us, the prophet Isaiah also encountered God, and its effect resounds to this day. Who can hear Holy, holy, holy is the LORD of hosts! All the earth is filled with his glory! and not think of the holy Mass? For the Mass, indeed every sacrament, is an encounter with the living God. Pope Francis made this clear when he wrote that Christ, the Incarnation, is Himself the “very method that the Holy Trinity has chosen to open to us the way of communion. Christian faith is either an encounter with Him alive, or it does not exist… We need to be present at that Supper, to be able to hear his voice, to eat his Body and to drink his Blood. We need Him. In the Eucharist and in all the sacraments we are guaranteed the possibility of encountering the Lord Jesus and of having the power of his Paschal Mystery reach us. The salvific power of the sacrifice of Jesus, his every word, his every gesture, glance, and feeling reaches us through the celebration of the sacraments.”1
We heard in the Old Testament readings this week forebodings of this encounter. On the one hand, God said to Israel through Hosea, I will allure her; I will lead her into the desert and speak to her heart (2:16); it is time to seek the LORD (10:12); I drew them with human cords, with bands of love; I fostered them like one who raises an infant to his cheeks (11:4); and finally, Return, Israel, to the LORD, your God… Take with you words, and return to the LORD (14:2-3). But on the other hand, we also heard Him say that Israel made idols for themselves (8:4); their heart is false (10:2); and the more I called them, the farther they went from me (11:2).
The pattern is clear: God seeks encounter, to share his love; we, to avoid. Why? Fear, mostly. It’s in our nature. God calls us to be holy – set apart – but we fear not fitting in. He calls us to speak truth in the open, but we are silent, fearing the challenge. He calls us to give ourselves completely to him, but we fear the loss of control. He calls us to the humility of service, but we fear giving up our pride. And where does this fear leave us?Empty, ashamed, hiding in the darkness of our sins, and afraid to open ourselves up to the all-seeing light of Christ.
But his light is also the perfect love that drives out fear (1 John 4:18). That is why Jesus urges his disciples to become like their Master, that His love will transform us. Our encounter with the living God in every sacrament is meant to bear witness to the transformative power of His love. Why else would Jesus say, What I say to you in the darkness, speak in the light; what you hear whispered, proclaim on the housetops (Matthew 10:27)? Aren’t the most loving words the ones so often spoken in the darkness, or whispered in our ears? The perfect love that drives out fear is the heart of our encounter with God in the liturgy, the love that is meant to evoke in us the same sense of humble self-surrender that Isaiah felt when he cried out, I am a man of unclean lips (Isaiah 6:5).
It was the loving and living word of God that cleansed him, the same one who comes to us and seeks to perfect in us the effect of that encounter: the Spirit of God who rests upon us (1 Peter 4:14), who moves us to speak in the light, to proclaim what God has whispered, and to say as Isaiah said, Here I am, send me!
The French mathematician and philosopher Blaise Pascal, a Catholic, once said that he would have written a shorter letter but didn’t have time. Anyone who has tried to say exactly what they want to say in as few words as possible knows how hard that is.
Our Lord is certainly a master of it. In two sentences he gives us a wonderfully deep insight into the spiritual life. The idea is simple; hidden treasure is found, the finder sells everything and buys the field. But there are really four things: Seeking, finding, giving up, and owning. God does them, we do them, and the result is what Israel saw with Moses in the first reading; when we are touched by God, our very being changes.
First, seeking. In the parables, a man finds a treasure. Who is the seeker, man or God? Before answering, consider: the treasure had to be hidden first or there would have been nothing to find. The reality is that God is not hidden; he has written his image into us and around us all creation proclaims his glory. Yet as St. Augustine once said, “You were with me and I was not with you; created things kept me far from you.” Sinfulness keeps us from seeing him; we feel the emptiness, the hunger, but look to worldly things to fill it, only to find that everything the world has to offer leaves us as empty and unfulfilled as we were before. Still, God is faithful and always ready; when we turn to him with our whole heart and soul to do what is right before him (Tobit 13:6), he comes and finds us.
No wonder the man in the parable was filled with joy! I see that kind of emotion often in people who are new to or returning to the faith; they are so happy to have finally found what their hearts had been searching for. There is great joy knowing that God is near, has our good in mind, and loves us. But we should remember too, as Scripture reminds us, of God’s joy, for he first loved us (1 John 4:19) and greatly rejoices when one is found who had gone astray (Zephaniah 3:17; Luke 15:7,10).
Of course, joy and good feelings aren’t enough. In any relationship built on genuine love more is asked, and when that comes to the greatest of all, our relationship with God, the greatest is asked. Jesus made it a point in the parables to say that the men who found the treasure didn’t give up part of their wealth to obtain it; they gave up everything they had. As with both seeking and finding, God has given up everything first. Anyone who doubts that need only look at a crucifix. But to quote St. Augustine again, God made us without us but will not save us without us. The questions for us today are: What are we willing to give up? What stands between us and complete devotion to doing God’s will?
Finally, possession of the treasure. For our Heavenly Father, this flows from the greatest sign of his infinite love for us – the passion and death of his only Son. As St. Paul said, you are not your own… you have been purchased at a price (1 Corinthians 6:19-20). As for us, note that the man in the first parable buried the treasure and bought the field. Why do that? In those days, owning the land meant that you owned anything that was found on it or in it; he could not claim the treasure until he claimed the land it was found on. For us, the land is our faith. When we have the faith, we possess the kingdom whole and entire; what our gospel acclamation said: all that the Father has told us (John 15:15).
In the first reading, Moses became radiant in the presence of God and while proclaiming his word to Israel. This was the same the man who once made excuses to God to avoid being sent by him to do anything, let alone proclaim his word. But then, it wasn’t the same man; he had allowed God to work within him and through him, to “possess” him if you will, to so transform him that he became the man God called him from all eternity to be. When we are touched by God, we too should show it, and that is the other question we have to ask ourselves today: Can anyone tell that we are Christians, not by our being here, not by our rosaries or prayer books, but by the way we live our lives? Can anyone tell that we have sought God, and that he has found us?
An excerpt from the Sermon on the Transfiguration of our Lord and God and Saviour, Jesus Christ by St. Ephraim, Deacon of Edessa:
The facts themselves bear witness and his divine acts of power teach those who doubt that he is true God, and his sufferings show that he is true man. And if those who are feeble in understanding are not fully assured, they will pay the penalty on his dread day.
If he was not flesh, why was Mary introduced at all? And if he was not God, whom was Gabriel calling Lord?
If he was not flesh, who was lying in the manger? And if he was not God, whom did the Angels come down and glorify?
If he was not flesh, who was wrapped in swaddling clothes? And if he was not God, whom did the shepherds worship?
If he was not flesh, whom did Joseph circumcise? And if he was not God, in whose honour did the star speed through the heavens?
If he was not flesh, whom did Mary suckle? And if he was not God, to whom did the Magi offer gifts?
If he was not flesh, whom did Symeon carry in his arms? And if he was not God, to whom did he say, “Let me depart in peace”?
If he was not flesh, whom did Joseph take and flee into Egypt? And if he was not God, in whom were words “Out of Egypt I have called my Son” fulfilled?
If he was not flesh, whom did John baptise? And if he was not God, to whom did the Father from heaven say, “This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well-pleased”?
If he was not flesh, who fasted and hungered in the desert? And if he was not God, whom did the Angels come down and serve?
If he was not flesh, who was invited to the wedding in Cana of Galilee? And if he was not God, who turned the water into wine?
If he was not flesh, in whose hands were the loaves? And if he was not God, who satisfied crowds and thousands in the desert, not counting women and children, from five loaves and two fishes?
If he was not flesh, who fell asleep in the boat? And if he was not God, who rebuked the winds and the sea?
If he was not flesh, with whom did Simon the Pharisee eat? And if he was not God, who pardoned the offences of the sinful woman?
If he was not flesh, who sat by the well, worn out by the journey? And if he was not God, who gave living water to the woman of Samaria and reprehended her because she had had five husbands?
If he was not flesh, who wore human garments? And if he was not God, who did acts of power and wonders?
If he was not flesh, who spat on the ground and made clay? And if he was not God, who through the clay compelled the eyes to see?
If he was not flesh, who wept at Lazarus’ grave? And if he was not God, who by his command brought out one four days dead?
If he was not flesh, who sat on the foal? And if he was not God, whom did the crowds go out to meet with glory?
If he was not flesh, whom did the Jews arrest? And if he was not God, who gave an order to the earth and threw them onto their faces.
If he was not flesh, who was struck with a blow? And if he was not God, who cured the ear that had been cut off by Peter and restored it to its place?
If he was not flesh, who received spittings on his face? And if he was not God, who breathed the Holy Spirit into the faces of his Apostles?
If he was not flesh, who stood before Pilate at the judgement seat? And if he was not God, who made Pilate’s wife afraid by a dream?
If he was not flesh, whose garments did the soldiers strip off and divide? And if he was not God, how was the sun darkened at the cross?
If he was not flesh, who was hung on the cross? And if he was not God, who shook the earth from its foundations?
If he was not flesh, whose hands and feet were transfixed by nails? And if he was not God, how was the veil of the temple rent, the rocks broken and the graves opened?
If he was not flesh, who cried out, “My God, my God, why have you abandoned me”? And if he was not God, who said “Father, forgive them”?
If he was not flesh, who was hung on a cross with the thieves? And if he was not God, how did he say to the thief, “Today you will be with me in Paradise”?
If he was not flesh, to whom did they offer vinegar and gall? And if he was not God, on hearing whose voice did Hades tremble?
If he was not flesh, whose side did the lance pierce, and blood and water came out?And if he was not God, who smashed to gates of Hades and tear apart it bonds? And at whose command did the imprisoned dead come out?
If he was not flesh, whom did the Apostles see in the upper room? And if he was not God, how did he enter when the doors were shut?
If he was not flesh, the marks of the nails and the lance in whose hands and side did Thomas handle? And if he was not God, to whom did he cry out, “My Lord and my God”?
If he was not flesh, who ate by the sea of Tiberias? And if he was not God, at whose command was the net filled?
If he was not flesh, whom did the Apostles and Angels see being taken up into heaven? And if he was not God, to whom was heaven opened, whom did the Powers worship in fear and whom did the Father invite to “Sit at my right hand”. As David said, “The Lord said to my Lord, sit at my right hand…”
If he was not God and man, our salvation is a lie, and the words of the Prophets are lies. But the Prophets spoke the truth, and their testimonies were not lies. The Holy Spirit spoke through them what they had been commanded.
Mark 10:45 