GOD HATH VISITED HIS PEOPLE

 A REFLECTION FOR THE 15TH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST

The people who witnessed the raising of the young man of Nain from the dead were struck with fear: “And there came a fear on all: and they glorified God, saying, That a great prophet is risen up among us, and That God hath visited his people.”  Today, we look back at that visitation by God, and we are not so much struck with fear as inspired.  But how do we feel about the next visitation of Christ among us, his people?

How would we sum up the Life of Christ?  It had so many aspects; our blessed Lord set so many examples for us to follow, he healed so many sick people, righted so many wrongs.  He gave us the right prayers to say, the true Mass to celebrate in his memory, he founded our Church, he entrusted his own blessed Mother to be our own Mother. He literally died for us—all of us.  Our Lord’s life can’t easily be described in just a few words.  Words fail us, and the reason is that he is the Word.  The Word.  The divine Word made flesh.

Today’s Gospel comes very close to the essential element of Christ’s life on earth.  He doesn’t merely heal a young man from his sickness, he actually raises him from the dead.  When he made the blind to see, the deaf to hear, and the lame to walk, these miracles were mere shadows of the wonder of bringing a dead man back to life.  And even this act, great thought it may be, is a mere nothing compared to his ultimate role of dying himself so that we may all escape death and have eternal life.

There has been much controversy since the Novus Ordo Mass was introduced, as to whether the words of consecration of the traditional Mass are correct in saying that our Lord died “for you and for many” so that sins may be forgiven, or whether the new Mass made a necessary correction by changing the words to make it “for you and for all men.”  While the change to the form of the sacrament was substantial, and therefore probably invalidated the new “Mass,” nevertheless both statements can be viewed as theologically correct.  It’s the basic distinction between Redemption and Salvation.  Our Lord redeemed all men.  But he did not, alas, save them all from hell.  Salvation depends upon our correspondence with the divine grace we receive.  It depends not only upon God, but upon our own free will.  And not all men are saved.  Indeed, we could even say, along with so many saints and theologians, that the vast majority of men will not save their souls.  Redemption was our Lord’s job, Salvation is ours.

As Christians, we look forward to our Lord’s return to this earth.  He came the first time to heal, to save the souls of all those who received him.  He cured the living and raised the dead.  Next time, it will be different.  He will come again in glory to judge both the quick and the dead.  The first time he came, he showed us the way to glory.  Next time, he will either take us to glory or banish us from that glory forever.  He has already done his part by dying on the Cross, and the graces that flowed from his Sacred Heart give us everything we need to do our own part.  He is the Redeemer of us all.  At his Second Coming, we will find out whether he is also our Saviour—whether the part we played was good enough.  Many will be disappointed.  Please God, we’re not one of them!

LILIES OF THE FIELD

 A SERMON FOR THE 14TH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST

“Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin: And yet I say unto you, That even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.”

When our blessed Lord tells us to do something, it’s a good idea to obey.  In today’s Gospel he instructs us “to consider the lilies of the field,” and so let’s turn our thoughts in the direction of these simple flowers for a moment, and see what we can learn from them.  It’s a very easy lesson.  Our Lord begins by describing them as basically useless: “they toil not, neither do they spin.”  And yet, he goes on, they are of great beauty, more glorious in their simplicity than all the rich garments worn by the king himself.  Not even Solomon in all his glory was arrayed like one of these simple little lilies of the field.

From this comparison that our Lord makes, it is evident that we are meant to measure the worth of individuals, not according to their usefulness to society, but rather by something else more rudimentary. Our value to society can be a very tenuous one.  We should beware the very dangerous path on which such thinking sends us.  Let’s never forget how the Nazis upheld this false ideal and very early on started the systematic killing of the mentally ill, the elderly and the infirm.  And it didn’t end with them.  Their policy of eugenics is raising its ugly head again today, when countries like Iceland boast that they have eradicated Down Syndrome from their society by the simple method of having aborted every child who is detected as having it.  Or the increasing number of countries, and even American states, where euthanasia is becoming an accepted option for those who cannot afford or are not simply not prepared to bear the cross they have been given. 

Every individual is a child of God, a lily of the field in his own right, and as such, is a part of God’s glorious creation, whether they toil and spin, or not.  Each and every human being is of immeasurable value, because he is beloved of God, so beloved that God sent his only-begotten Son to die for him.  All human beings, rich and poor, and yes, even good and evil, are born at least as children of God, glorious in their innocence and simplicity, and destined for eternal life.

That eternal life, however, is left to us to choose whether we want it or not, whether we’re going to use our free will to do whatever’s necessary to achieve it.  We are all born as beautiful lilies of the field, but alas, as we get older and develop the use of reason, we so often waste our time trying to acquire more beauty—artificial beauty—to make ourselves more attractive, more popular.  But “which of you by taking thought can add one cubit unto his stature?”  Such attempts are nothing but vanity, and these imagined improvements we make to our outward appearance, or the graceful and witty airs we put on to impress other people—all these are nothing more than a pretence, vain attempts to improve on God’s creation, to make ourselves that which we are not, and for the sole purpose of boosting our own ego. 

Like the grass, which, as our Lord says, “today is, and to morrow is cast into the oven,” all these vain attempts to make ourselves appear better than we are shall ultimately fail as we grow old, infirm, wrinkled and cranky.  Ultimately, as we lie on our deathbed and look back on all our wasted energy, will the realization of our own vanity hit us too late to be of any use?  Let’s hope not.  Let’s pray not.

Meanwhile, let’s resolve to abandon such attempts to pretend to be better than we are.  Instead, let’s take advantage of the help God gives us through his grace, to make ourselves truly better than we are!  Let’s improve our behavior, make better moral choices, lead a more holy life, increase our love for God and our neighbor.  Let’s concentrate on improving our soul, and abandon our silly, vain and worthless pampering of our physical appearance, our obsession with our own popularity, and our never-ending quest to acquire more and more money and material possessions.  Let’s do all we can to be that lily of the field.

As our blessed Lord tells us, it’s all about making this fundamental choice.  “No man can serve two masters… ye cannot serve God and mammon.”  So we pause in our life today, we take a deep breath, and we assess where we are with this, the most important decision we can ever make.  Am I going to spend my life serving God, or do I waste it away on mammon, the vain, frivolous things of this world, and the artificial illusion of satisfaction they provide?  Most people never stop to think about this choice.  They just go their merry way, and are lost on the road to perdition.  How so?  Because by simply following their own instinct, they will naturally do the things they want to do.  And that’s going to lead them to a place where, as our Lord says, they will come to hate the one master, which is God, and love the other, which is mammon.  We priests often watch this happen, powerless to do anything except counsel the sinner and pray for his conversion from the path he is on.  So often though, our efforts meet with nothing but the slow but steady aversion to God and the things of God that accompanies the sinner’s downfall—their gradual rejection of the sacraments, the more and more infrequent attendance at Mass, until one day we realize that we’ve lost them altogether. 

Please don’t even set foot on this path.  If you think you’re slipping, stop now before it’s too late.  Make the firm and conscious choice to seek first the kingdom of God and, as St. Paul says, walk in the Spirit.  “They that are Christ’s,” he says, “have crucified the flesh with the affections and lusts.”  To crucify the flesh takes effort, energy, hard work and sacrifice.  It won’t just happen.  You have to cooperate with God’s graces and make it happen through an act of the will.  Our choice is placed before us today.  Think about it, please.  Choose God, not mammon!  Because you can’t serve them both.

FIGHT THE GOOD FIGHT WITH ALL THY MIGHT

 A HYMN FOR THE 14TH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST

By John S. B. Monsell (1863)

1 Fight the good fight with all thy might;

Christ is thy strength, and Christ thy right:

Lay hold on life, and it shall be

Thy joy and crown eternally.

 

2 Run the straight race through God's good grace,

Lift up thine eyes, and seek his face;

Life with its way before us lies,

Christ is the path, and Christ the prize.

 

3 Cast care aside; upon thy Guide

Lean, and his mercy will provide;

Lean, and the trusting soul shall prove,

Christ is its life and Christ its love.

 

4 Faint not, nor fear, his arms are near;

He changeth not, and thou art dear;

Only believe, and thou shalt see

That Christ is all in all to thee.