At War with the World September 23, 2018 25th Sunday in Ordinary Time - B
by Dcn. Bob Bonomi
Who or what are you at war with today? Hardly a day goes by that we aren’t in conflict with something or someone – it may be within our family, our job or our communities. It may be with a single person or with a group. It may be that we’re battling financial issues, job issues, health issues or addictions. It may be that we’re just at war with ourselves – our worries, our anxieties, our fears. Or maybe it’s just our frustration that we are not the person we want to be. Any one of these things show that we are at constant war with the world in one form or another, even when it seems that there is a “truce” or uneasy peace at a particular moment in our lives.
We spend much of our time battling these conflicts in our lives, to the point that it seems that conflict is inevitable. Why is that? According to St. James, it’s because we allow ourselves to be controlled by our earthly desires instead of staying focused on God. “Is it not from your passions that make war within your members?”
We place ourselves in conflict with ourselves and those around us when we want what we don’t have, and it disturbs us when others have something – health, wealth, power – that we don’t. We’re frustrated when we think we’re doing everything right and we still don’t get what we think we deserve.
Even when we ask that God take away the trials we face, to intervene and take our side in our daily conflicts – we usually do so from a self-centered viewpoint. We can’t help it. We are raised and indoctrinated by society to seek “the good life” here on earth, and like the Jews of Jesus’ day, we think that any evil that befalls us, any time our prayers appear to go unanswered, it’s because we’ve done something wrong or we aren’t trying hard enough.
It is hard to see the big picture from God’s perspective. We often can’t understand His will for us, or we don’t want to. And how often do we just ignore something that we don’t understand?
Today’s Gospel opens with Jesus continuing to teach his disciples about the Kingdom of God and trying to prepare them for the days ahead that they were going to face. They’ve been witnesses to many wonderful signs and miracles over the last several weeks and from an earthly perspective, who could blame them for feeling excitement that comes from the many displays of power and wisdom which Jesus has shown? Now Jesus is again throwing a wet blanket on all of their dreams, just like he did after the Transfiguration. For the second time, Jesus is teaching them that he had to die and be raised from the dead.
We might say that he was trying to “bring them down to earth”. Actually, he’s trying to break them of their earthly thoughts – to raise them to a greater awareness of God’s plans and just how different they are from what others think.
And they don’t get it. They probably don’t want to. All of the classic Jewish literature of their time – their scriptures – always talked about the glory and majesty of God’s Kingdom and the earthly rewards that awaited those who are His followers. The death of Jesus would be totally contradictory to what they’ve been taught to believe, and so it would be easier to ignore the dire predictions or to think of them as remote possibilities at best, not likely to come true. After all, Jesus was the Messiah, the Savior, and the Savior had to be one who wielded great power and authority, right? And as his chosen ones, they would share in that power and authority. No wonder they were arguing about who would be in charge of what.
Jesus is blunt. He tells them that in order to be in charge they would have to be servants, and the one who would be the greatest would have to be the servant of all the rest. To reinforce that thought, he takes a small child and places it in the middle of the group.
Now in Jewish society, a child was pretty much to be seen and not heard – definitely not a sign of authority. Yet a child represents something far more important than earthly greatness – a child represents future hope and is a sign of love, a sign of innocence and trust.
That is God’s message to us as well. In the midst of the conflicts of our lives, we are called to be Children of God. That doesn’t mean that the conflict will leave us, only that our response to it should be to entrust it to God Himself.
We too need to change how we think. Instead of going to war with those around us over those things that we disagree on, those things that threaten our health or well-being, we need to seek the Wisdom that brings us peace. We do not have to hide from or ignore those conflicts that we face in our lives. We need to bring them to Jesus, and let Him fight the battle with us.
In Ecclesiastes we hear: There is an appointed time for everything, and a time for every affair under the heavens. … A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace. … God has made everything appropriate to its time, but has put the timeless into their hearts so they cannot find out, from beginning to end, the work which God has done. I recognized that there is nothing better than to rejoice and to do well during life.”
There will be wars in the world and conflict within our hearts; there will be battles with those we encounter and there will be struggles within ourselves. Yet as St. Paul said in his letter to the Romans: “What will separate us from the love of Christ? Will anguish, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or the sword? … No, in all these things we conquer overwhelmingly through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor present things, nor future things, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”
Even in our pettiness and struggles, God still loves us. Let us go forth in our mission to serve others.
Sunday, September 23, 2018
Sunday, September 9, 2018
Hard of Hearing
Hard of Hearing
September 9, 2018 23rd Sunday in Ordinary Time - B
by Dcn. Bob Bonomi
Do you know someone that is deaf? We all know someone. Oh, I don’t mean someone who is hard of hearing, although we all know people like that, too. I’m referring to those who haven’t heard or understood the Word of God and who either don’t think they need God or are afraid to admit that they do. It may be a co-worker, a neighbor, a friend or the parent of one of your children’s friends. It may even be your own child. Your spouse. Maybe it is – you.
I think that we all are hard of hearing at times. There are even times that we could hear if we wanted to, but we choose not to listen. I like to tell the story of my dad, who punctured an ear drum when he was young. As he grew older he had more and more trouble hearing what people were saying unless they were directly in front of him, and it led to an increasing tendency to argue with others – or to shut them out. Especially my mom.
I remember once when Rene’ and I were visiting my parents. They were having a fairly heated argument over something that had happened years earlier and I realized that they were arguing about two entirely different things – my dad misunderstood what my mom was saying and she in turn thought he was talking about something entirely different. It was a weird conversation.
So my siblings and I tried to get him to try hearing aids, but we were unsuccessful until my mom had a stroke. After that, my dad became her round-the-clock caregiver and I guess it made him reconsider and get a set. To my surprise, the arguments decreased dramatically. One day I asked him if he liked his hearing aids and he said, “Oh yes, they’re a big help. Now, when I don’t want to listen to someone, I just smile at them and turn them off.”
I think we’re like that with our faith sometimes. When someone says something to us that we don’t want to hear, we just turn them off or tune them out. Maybe it’s because we’re comfortable where we are and don’t want to change. Maybe it’s because what we’re hearing challenges our status quo. Maybe it’s because that, despite our knowing that our lives would be better in the long run, we’re afraid to face the unknown that change would bring. So, what do we do when we or those we love are afraid to come to Jesus?
In today’s Gospel, once again we see that it is a person’s friends who bring him to Jesus. Just like the paralytic that was lowered through the roof of the house where Jesus was staying. Just like the blind man at Bethsaida. Why?
They recognize that Jesus has the power to perform miracles. The poetic language used in the first reading from Isaiah – how the eyes of the blind will be opened, the ears of the deaf will be cleared; the tongue of the mute will sing – is a recurring theme used in the Old Testament to describe the power of God and how He will always have mercy on those who seek Him. Jesus’ actions with the deaf-mute confirms that He indeed has the power and authority of God, that He possesses the attributes of God as described in the Old Testament of He who will come to save His people.
So if the man’s friends recognize who Jesus is, why doesn’t the man come by himself?
• Maybe it’s because they know something he doesn’t – they’ve heard about Jesus or heard Him themselves and believe in Him.
• Maybe it’s because he’s embarrassed by his speech impediment and didn’t want to be ridiculed. Think of how many times people have made fun of those who spoke funny.
• Maybe it’s because he’s afraid to come forward since deafness was thought to be a punishment from God for sin.
In any case, he needs to be persuaded to come to Jesus. Unlike the blind man or the paralytic, the deaf-mute can see Jesus – he can see the way to come to him, but still he won’t come by himself. He needs help, and the help comes from his friends. The man doesn’t ask for help; again, it is his friends that begged Jesus to heal him. They obviously see past whatever faults he might have and think that he is important enough to help.
Which brings us to the Letter of St. James. Do you want to go to heaven? James is cautioning his community to be careful when choosing who we help, who we show preference to. I think it becomes a question of priorities. It isn’t that we shouldn’t have friends, for as we just heard it is their friends that brought those in need to Jesus. But we must be seeking those who are in need of Jesus and then work at bringing them to Him, even when they are reluctant to come themselves. I don’t mean to force them, but we must be persuasive enough to convince them how much they need Jesus in their lives. James points out that God chooses those who are poor in the world to be rich in faith and heirs of the kingdom that he promised to all of us who love Him. Shouldn’t we be looking for those who are the ones we will be spending eternity with?
Are we?
September 9, 2018 23rd Sunday in Ordinary Time - B
by Dcn. Bob Bonomi
Do you know someone that is deaf? We all know someone. Oh, I don’t mean someone who is hard of hearing, although we all know people like that, too. I’m referring to those who haven’t heard or understood the Word of God and who either don’t think they need God or are afraid to admit that they do. It may be a co-worker, a neighbor, a friend or the parent of one of your children’s friends. It may even be your own child. Your spouse. Maybe it is – you.
I think that we all are hard of hearing at times. There are even times that we could hear if we wanted to, but we choose not to listen. I like to tell the story of my dad, who punctured an ear drum when he was young. As he grew older he had more and more trouble hearing what people were saying unless they were directly in front of him, and it led to an increasing tendency to argue with others – or to shut them out. Especially my mom.
I remember once when Rene’ and I were visiting my parents. They were having a fairly heated argument over something that had happened years earlier and I realized that they were arguing about two entirely different things – my dad misunderstood what my mom was saying and she in turn thought he was talking about something entirely different. It was a weird conversation.
So my siblings and I tried to get him to try hearing aids, but we were unsuccessful until my mom had a stroke. After that, my dad became her round-the-clock caregiver and I guess it made him reconsider and get a set. To my surprise, the arguments decreased dramatically. One day I asked him if he liked his hearing aids and he said, “Oh yes, they’re a big help. Now, when I don’t want to listen to someone, I just smile at them and turn them off.”
I think we’re like that with our faith sometimes. When someone says something to us that we don’t want to hear, we just turn them off or tune them out. Maybe it’s because we’re comfortable where we are and don’t want to change. Maybe it’s because what we’re hearing challenges our status quo. Maybe it’s because that, despite our knowing that our lives would be better in the long run, we’re afraid to face the unknown that change would bring. So, what do we do when we or those we love are afraid to come to Jesus?
In today’s Gospel, once again we see that it is a person’s friends who bring him to Jesus. Just like the paralytic that was lowered through the roof of the house where Jesus was staying. Just like the blind man at Bethsaida. Why?
They recognize that Jesus has the power to perform miracles. The poetic language used in the first reading from Isaiah – how the eyes of the blind will be opened, the ears of the deaf will be cleared; the tongue of the mute will sing – is a recurring theme used in the Old Testament to describe the power of God and how He will always have mercy on those who seek Him. Jesus’ actions with the deaf-mute confirms that He indeed has the power and authority of God, that He possesses the attributes of God as described in the Old Testament of He who will come to save His people.
So if the man’s friends recognize who Jesus is, why doesn’t the man come by himself?
• Maybe it’s because they know something he doesn’t – they’ve heard about Jesus or heard Him themselves and believe in Him.
• Maybe it’s because he’s embarrassed by his speech impediment and didn’t want to be ridiculed. Think of how many times people have made fun of those who spoke funny.
• Maybe it’s because he’s afraid to come forward since deafness was thought to be a punishment from God for sin.
In any case, he needs to be persuaded to come to Jesus. Unlike the blind man or the paralytic, the deaf-mute can see Jesus – he can see the way to come to him, but still he won’t come by himself. He needs help, and the help comes from his friends. The man doesn’t ask for help; again, it is his friends that begged Jesus to heal him. They obviously see past whatever faults he might have and think that he is important enough to help.
Which brings us to the Letter of St. James. Do you want to go to heaven? James is cautioning his community to be careful when choosing who we help, who we show preference to. I think it becomes a question of priorities. It isn’t that we shouldn’t have friends, for as we just heard it is their friends that brought those in need to Jesus. But we must be seeking those who are in need of Jesus and then work at bringing them to Him, even when they are reluctant to come themselves. I don’t mean to force them, but we must be persuasive enough to convince them how much they need Jesus in their lives. James points out that God chooses those who are poor in the world to be rich in faith and heirs of the kingdom that he promised to all of us who love Him. Shouldn’t we be looking for those who are the ones we will be spending eternity with?
Are we?
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