Dominion - Solemnity of Christ the King (C)

 "Just give it to God." 

Have you heard that phrase? "Give it to God." It reminds me of the phrase: "Just offer it up." I typically don't like to hear that phrase. And "give it to God" is just as grating to me. I mean, I understand the sentiment: God is in control and just hand whatever is bothering you-- hand it over to Him. And I try to do that: I give Him my stress, my worries, my sufferings ... And do you know what happens five minutes later? I'm worrying about those things again. Sure, I try to give things to God. But, in the end I find myself constantly taking those things back.

Something that has helped me in recent months is to look at this in a different way. Yes, God wants us to trust Him with our worries and stresses. But, the starting point-- the point that I think is the bigger deal for all of us-- is to simply give God access. 

To give God permission to climb into the boat of my soul, swamped with all its problems. To let Him access to our shame or embarrassment or guilt or shortcomings. ... So, we can talk about "giving it to God," but I am realizing the starting point is to simply give God access.

Now, when I think about "access," I, in my late-20th-century mentality, think about computers and cell-phones (which, really, have become one and the same thing). And when you use your computer or cell-phone, and you search on the internet, you sometimes come across a webpage that says something like, "This page uses cookies. Is that ok?" Alas, we are not talking about chocolate-chip cookies. When a webpage asks for permission to use cookies, it is asking if it can access your phone and place a few things on it so that it can do, well, whatever it wants: it may be to track your habit of browsing the page; it may be to give you a better browsing experience of the page. And, for the most part, many people simply say "ok" to the cookies and grant that webpage access.

I thought about this. And I thought: "I wonder if the governmental page of Communist China uses cookies." And if it does use cookies, there is no way in the world that I am going to grant that webpage access. Why would I want Communist China to have access?

This thought gave me an insight about access. We fear access because access can lead to control. I will not allow China to access my phone because I don't want it to have control over my phone.

Access and control. 

There is a word that encapsulates these. That word is dominion.

Dominion. It is a word that is often used in reference to kings. A "king-dom" is a king's dominion. Within his kingdom, he has access. He is given control. Of course, this can be fearful if the king is a tyrant. But if he is good, the access and the control in the king's dominion is freeing. His dominion is a dominion of peace, tranquility, blessing.

It is this dominion that is at stake in today's Solemnity. At the heart of this celebration we are brought to the moment of Jesus' crucifixion-- which is an interesting moment to have at the heart of our celebration: the moment of our king's death! 

The rulers "sneer" at Him. What a word! Sneer! ... And the soldiers, following their masters, "jeer" at Him. Clearly, they do not see Jesus as a true and powerful king; they do not see themselves within His dominion. Thus, they do not give Him access to their hearts.

Then we see the bad thief. He says, "If you are the Son of God, save us and yourself!" Notice the conditional "if." The thief does not believe that Jesus is the King. In fact, the thief is giving the command to Jesus: "Save us and yourself!" (Of course, this is precisely what Jesus is doing...)

But then we see the good thief. I love how he starts out: "Have you no fear of God?"

What does this mean?

Typically, people think that "fear of God" means to be scared of Him. But that is not the case. After all, the Fear of the Lord is the seventh gift of the Holy Spirit. So, what does the good thief mean?

Fear of the Lord is to recognize that God already has access and control. He already has dominion. He is God -- and we are not. And since He is God, He can do as He wishes. He can mete out justice; He can give mercy. But that is up to Him. He doesn't have to give mercy. And so the good thief says, "We have been condemned according to our crimes."

But then the good thief says to Jesus: "Remember me when you come into your kingdom." Remember me, Lord. Please be good to me. You have dominion over all. You already have access. And I trust you will not be a tyrant (or like the Communists). I believe you will save me -- because you can control that.

And Jesus says, "Today"-- not tomorrow, but today -- "you will be with me in paradise."

The King is good! His dominion is salvation! This is why He has come.

But ....

He will come again. The word "to come" is from the Latin: Adventus -- from which our next season receives its name. Advent. It means Christ is coming.

On the one hand, Christ has come at Christmas. But on the other hand, Christ will come again at the end of the world: the Dies irae, dies illa. The great and wrathful day. On the last day, our Lord will come, no longer with mercy, but with justice. That is a big part of today's celebration. The King will come again and show that everyone has already been and has always been under His dominion. Just as scripture says: "Every knee must bend: in heaven, on earth, and under the earth. And every tongue confess: Jesus Christ is Lord." ("Lord," from the Latin: Dominus).

In this way, today's solemnity and the solemnity of Christmas form the bookends of the Season of Advent. Christ has come and Christ will come again.

In the first coming, at Christmas, He comes to invite. He comes peacefully as a babe. But the angelic hosts, the legions in the spiritual warfare, are all there. He can simply say the word ... But He comes peaceably, mercifully ... to invite.

At the Second Coming, at the end of the world, He will come to compel. And then it will be too late.

The good thief, precisely because he accepted the invitation and gave Jesus access, is saved. The others are not.

Therefore, in this upcoming Advent Season, you will hear St. John the Baptist cry out: "Make straight the king's paths! Prepare the way of the Dominus, the Lord!" ... That is to say, give God access to your heart. Let Him have control in your life. Become like the good thief -- today!

For the Lord, our King, is a good God who comes to save. His reign will bring peace and freedom in your life. The best kind of Christmas cookies! The best kind of invitation -- for heaven! 

So, yes: do come, Lord! You have access to everything! All is under your dominion. And that includes me.

+ In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

The Son and His Healing Rays - 33rd Sunday in OT (C)

There will arise the Son of Justice with His healing rays...

I wasn't much of a morning person when I was in college at WashU. In fact, I chose all of my Tuesday-Thursday classes such that they started well after the sunrise: my earliest class was at 1pm. Because of this, I never saw the sunrise. In fact, my first memory of the sunrise was when, as a kind of rite-of-passage (I had heard that, before I graduated, I had to watch the sunrise from Brookings Hall), I joined a few of my classmates during graduation week and, yeah, with a little bit of alcohol in my system from the night before, welcomed the new day and the rising sun.

The great philosopher-theologian, Peter Kreeft, theorizes that, in the after-life and at the End of Time, there will be a couple reactions to the coming of Jesus, who Himself is the Rising Son, dawning in the East. On the one hand, there will be those who welcome the Son, like those romantics and poets who delight in the new warmth and the light that dispels the night's darkness. "At last!" they will say. On the other hand, there will be those who, like those fraternity brothers who were on a bender the night before, close the blinds at first light and say, "Dear God, it's bright!" And prefer the darkness.

For me, it was not as though I was the frat boy, but I was rather indifferent until that morning when I saw the sunrise. Sure, I knew it happened every day, but I never really attended to it. I was preoccupied with other things; my own life; sleeping; whatever. I had no aversion to it, but really: when you drive to work in the morning in these autumn and winter months, how often do you look with meandering, contemplative gaze?

In the spiritual life, I think many of us struggle with this bias: we know Jesus is there, but to attend to Him-- that is something we overlook precisely because He is always there ... and we are busy.

The great Italitna, Dante Alighieri, a literary figure that some argue is as important as Shakespeare, wrote about the afterlife in his classic: The Divine Comedy. In this work he wrote about those who welcomed the Son and are in heaven, about those who spurned the Son and are in hell, and about a third kind: those who had a place in their heart for the Son, but were oftentimes preoccupied with other earthly pursuits. Those are in purgatory.

It is for these that we pray for when we pray for the dead. Those in purgatory will make it into heaven (they cannot go to hell), but they do have to be cleansed and freed from those attachments and effects of sin that they need to pay back to God in His justice. It is, as CS Lewis (I believe) once wrote: a man has an invitation to a party at a mansion. Along the way, the man is splashed with mud. He arrives at the mansion and is greeted by the butler. The man, embarrassed, says, "Sir, may I first be cleansed before I greet the master of this house?" In heaven, everything is perfect. And the soul that has not been perfected in this life-- and there is enough grace in just one Holy Communion to make it so!-- must be perfected in Purgatory.

Dante's Divine Comedy, I believe, not only gives a great depiction of purgatory, but it can also spur us on to more holy living here so that, at the end of our earthly lives, we may avoid that place and find ourselves going directly to heaven. That said, let's divine into Dante's "Purgatorio."

There are seven levels that Dante notes, each one dealing with a deadly sin. When he writes about these levels, he starts from that which is closest to hell and ascends upward to that which is closest to heaven. I will take us in the opposite order and go from the closest to heaven, downwards.

As I do this, you will see 1) what brought a person there; 2) what struggle they must endure; and 3) the growth they must have before ascending to heaven. I hope that this will enlighten us about our sins, but also inspire us to take certain penitential measures so that we can ascend now.

The first level, closest to heaven, belongs to those who struggled with lust. That may surprise you -- we often think that that is the level closest to hell. But Dante notes that those who struggled with lust had love in their hearts, but it was twisted or misguided -- they were so close to saying after Christ "This is my body, given for you," but instead focused on the body alone as object, not gift. Dante notes that these will have to pass through fire -- specifically, the fire of the Holy Spirit, whom they had not embraced fully in this life.

The second level belongs to those who were gluttonous. They will be forced to fast. When allowed to eat and drink, those staples will not satisfy them and they will discover what they knew, deep down, here on earth: that food and drink are not enough: "One cannot live on bread alone." So they fast.

The third level is populated by the greedy. They endure being stretched, face down, upon the ground. They who were obsessed with earthly goods rarely looked up to the real treasures of heaven. Forced to look down upon the earth, they will realize that "Where you heart was, there was your treasure as well" and will start to long to look upwards ... if for a moment... someday....

The fourth level is of the slothful and lazy. They are forced to run (dear God!) so as to make up for their idleness, which was a devil's workshop.

The fifth level is the wrathful. They must find their way through a fear-inducing black cloud of smoke. Their emotions will be in turmoil and they must learn to do what they did not do here on earth: to learn how to govern their emotions and "calm the storm."

The sixth level is for the envious and jealous. They must wear sackcloth that itches their skin and their eyes are sowed shut with wire. They who were sad in having not must learn that giving away increases joy and not detracts from it; as they are blind, they will realize that everything is gift and must learn to rejoice in "every good gift that comes from above."

The seventh and final level, the closest to hell (whose gates say "Abandon all hope"), is reserved for the prideful. They are burdened by and must carry heavy, large rocks while praying the Our Father, especially attentive to the words: "Thy Will be done."

Within this final level are those who repented at the last hour, but who did not attend to their spiritual life in their earthy days. They delayed and oftentimes neglected the purification they could have gone through in this life -- and now they must go through it now. Only, they do not have access to the grace of the Eucharist as you and I have.

To complete this teaching on Purgatory, two things are worthy of note. 

First, those who are in the lower levels must complete not only that level, but also the ones above it. So, for example, the wrathful must go through the black cloud, but also the running for the slothful, and the fires of the lustful, etc. The prideful must go through them all. This is because the lower levels-- like pride-- will also have struggled with greed and lust. The deeper the illness, the more severe the remedy.

Second, in purgatory, there are times of dark, and there are times of sunlight. And the ascending of souls from the lower to the higher can only happen in the light of the sun. "The Son of Justice comes with His healing rays."

You see, my friends, I tell you this because we don't really want Justice in this life or the next. We want mercy. And it is being offered to you right now. Go to confession. Receive the Eucharist worthily. Do penance for your sins -- which means not only being sorry, but also making amends.

I tell you this, too, because this morning is a kind of pre-announcement of Advent. Amazingly, we are only two weeks away from Advent! And what do we mean when we use that word, Advent? It comes from the Latin, ad + venio, meaning: to come towards. Advent literally means Jesus is coming towards us. Next week, we celebrate Christ the King and the theme will be about Jesus coming as King at the End of Time, wrathful of the evil, meting out justice according to our deeds.

But then we will begin the Season of Advent, wherein our Lord comes as an innocent, safe, inviting babe.

And you get to choose which one you will meet: the merciful or the just. 

But for those who delay, there comes the purgation.

Let's prepare for Christ's coming-- whether at the end of time, or at Christmas, or at our death-- by truly repenting, doing penance, and attending to the Son's healing rays.

+ In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Freeing the Sadducees - 32nd Sunday in OT (C)

Throughout the year, we have heard many times when Pharisees have approached Jesus and asked questions. Today, we see a Sadducee approach. For context, Pharisees and Sadducees were rivals. Pharisees concerned themselves with the Law of Moses (although they did not care enough about the Law to follow it themselves). While the Sadducees were concerned with political law: they were oftentimes friends of the Romans and often held political power. Yet, despite the animosity that the Pharisees and Sadducees had towards one another, today they act as friends: they are united in their attempt to end Jesus' ministry by forwarding a very peculiar question.

The question is about a woman who is widowed seven times here on earth. (Poor thing!) The Sadducees ask who she will be married to in heaven. This question-- and we do not know whether it is asked cynically or genuinely-- was meant as a way to stump Jesus. The Sadducees denied the possibility of eternal life through the resurrection and thus pose a question to score a political point, not to gain wisdom per se but to show that the resurrection and the Mosaic Law, which upheld the marrying off of a widow seven-times over, were absurd. The Pharisees, in the background at this point, quietly reveal their hypocritical disregard for the Mosaic Law by assenting to this line of questioning. Both the Sadducees and Pharisees await an answer.

Before we arrive at Jesus' response, it is important to put this moment in its proper context. This is happening during Holy Week. Jesus has arrived on a donkey and to much acclaim ("even the stones would cry out!") through the city gates of Jerusalem. Shortly after that moment, he purifies the Temple by turning over the money changers tables and driving them out with whips. After this, His daily routine was to teach in the Temple courtyards (where rabbis would debate and draw disciples to themselves) and then, in the evening, to depart from the city, descend the valley, and sleep on the slope of Mount Olives (which is where both the Agony in the Garden and the Ascension will take place). In the morning, Jesus would rise and ascend the valley into Jerusalem again and walk up the Temple Mount to enter the courtyards there to again teach, disciple, and answer questions. 

That is all to say, at this point, Jesus has been doing what He did when He was twelve: teaching in the Temple. But now, His time of public ministry in the Temple is about to come to an end. As the Sadducees ask their question about heaven, Jesus is about to go to His death. This is one of the last questions Jesus will publicly answer.

So, what does Jesus say? His answer is twofold: 

First He says, "The children of this age marry and remarry, but those who are deemed worthy to attain to the coming age... neither marry nor are given in marriage." 

Now, you and I take it for granted that this is true. But for the skeptic, it would be fitting to ask in reply to Jesus, "Hey, how do you know that?" ... How does Jesus know what it is like in heaven and whether or not there is marriage in the celestial realm?

Pontius Pilate would ask this directly: "Where are you from?"

Jesus knows because He is from heaven. That is His home. And heaven is His home because He is God.

Perceiving the Sadducees skepticism, Jesus gives the second part of His twofold answer. He says, "That the dead will rise even Moses made known in the passage about the bush..." That is to say, "If you don't believe that I am from there, believe what your own scriptures say about the resurrection. Don't you believe those anymore?" This point should have also cut the background Pharisees to the heart.

It is important to note here that Jesus isn't condemning them. He is treating the question with sincerity, straightforwardness, with clarity, and with charity. He wants to free the Sadducees. ... free them? Free them from what? ... 

Remember that the Sadducees were twisted up with the Romans and the political powers. They were absorbed by it -- in much the same way as the Pharisees were absorbed by religious power. The problem is, when they were absorbed in such powers, they lost sight of greater realities. The Pharisees lost sight of true love of God and love of neighbor. The Sadducees lost sight of heaven.

It's amazing to think that anyone could lose sight of heaven, but it happens all the time.

I'll give two brief instances.

First, I don't think I need to mention the current political climate. But I simply ask this: if our entire family cannot gather around the dinner table on Thanksgiving, then how are we all going to be friends in heaven? Didn't Jesus eat with sinners and didn't He tell us that our eternal salvation is dependent on whether we forgive others? If we do not forgive, we are -- using Jesus' words here, not "deemed worthy to attain to the coming age" (ie, heaven). Repent and forgive, dear friends. To repent and forgive is to remember and reclaim the vision of heaven!

Second, there is a current in our culture that tries to define a person simply in terms of their sexuality. But in heaven there is no giving or receiving in marriage. So, what then? How are we to be defined then -- especially if the one thing, whether a person was L or G or H or whatever-- how are we to be defined then when it seemed the one thing that defined us here below has disappeared? And I mean not to simply focus on our brothers and sisters that struggle with same-sex attraction. I also say this to those who are married and who wonder how it will happen that they can still love each other without the marital embrace. ...  We all become celibate in the end, dear friends!

You see, the pleasures and obligations of this earthly life are transformed by the reality of heaven. Even the most holy Sacrament of Marriage is transformed. 

Thus, in this earthly life, there are some who do not marry precisely as a radical choice so as to let the heavenly life enter into their hearts and into the earthly world right now. Some will be unable to marry in this earthly age (see Matthew 19). And those who are married are called to see that, in the end, who is the widow married to? -- When the Sadducees ask: this woman married seven brothers and they all died -- in the resurrection, to whom will she be married?

"Me."

That is Jesus' point. The Marriage par excellence, the Consummation of All Marriages is found in the Church, the Bride, united to The Bridegroom, Jesus Christ. All marriages find their source and their fulfillment in Jesus Christ. And you know this too in that you know you cannot be everything for your spouse. Only God can be everything.

This is why people give their marriages, their sexuality, and even their lives away for God. The seven brothers in the first reading; the martyrs of the Church; the person who bears the Cross and fights against temptation; the older man who realizes "to everything there is a season" and that certain seasons in marriage pass -- they all are freed because the heavenly realm has transformed their earthly existence.

It is on that note that Jesus finishes His answer -- and descends into the valley one final time and goes to Mt Olives. Where He will be arrested. And then killed.

+ In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

In Need of a Compass: The Stories of Zacchaeus and Dr. Fritz Haber - 31st Sunday in OT (C)

Do you know Doctor Fritz Haber? If you don't, you may find it odd that you don't, since it is because of him that you are likely alive today. Back in the middle-late 1800s, when Fritz was born, farming techniques were technologically advancing, but still rather feeble, oftentimes unable to address basic needs. Just prior to his birth, for example, nearly one million people died in Ireland due to starvation (the great potato famine). Farmers understood the basic tenets needed to grow crops and they had discovered how nitrogen, better than any manure, could double and even quadruple crop yields. But nitrogen, even though it is the most abundant gas on earth (equating to about 78% of our air), is rather rare in a solid, fertilizer state. Doctor Fritz Haber changed that. He developed a process that was able to synthesize ammonia from nitrogen and hydrogen -- which could then be further synthesized to form nitrogen-rich fertilizer. Because of this tremendous scientific achievement, crop yields went up exponentially, as did the world's population. Starvation became a thing of the past in western civilizations. And for this, Fritz won the Noble Prize in Chemistry in 1918. "Fritz has made bread from the air," they said.

But despite this incredible achievement, many of Fritz' contemporaries boycotted the awards ceremony. There were protests; many were ashamed that he received the award. Why was this so? What was the controversy?

Well, as Fritz was working with ammonia, he was also tinkering with chlorine gas. He had an incredible intellect that was matched by a tremendous German patriotism. World War I was beginning and Fritz was wanting to contribute to the war effort. He invented weaponized chlorine and mustard gases -- and he personally oversaw their deployment on the fields of battle. His invention would lead to a new angel of death descending into the depths of the trenches. And more, he would be directly responsible for the gases used in concentration camps in the Second World War. He would be known as the "Father of Chemical Warfare." And Doctor Albert Einstein, a contemporary, would call Doctor Fritz Haber the most "tragic figure in modern science."

To me, this is fascinating: that a man, so gifted, so in love with his country, and who on the one hand advanced the lives of many, would on the other hand be the direct and active cause of the deaths of millions. How could this be? And what in the world does he have to do with Zacchaeus and Jesus in today's Gospel?

Zacchaeus was equally talented. A shrewd business man-- and clearly so: you didn't get into good standing with the Romans by being a dolt or gullible. And for a man of short stature-- the Romans enjoyed the "bella figura"-- Zacchaeus clearly had to have made an impression. Then, despite such a short stature, he could collect and compel and himself amass a fortune -- it all speaks to an individual with great talents and capabilities. 

But at the end of the day, we don't call Zacchaeus "the most tragic tax collector in Jewish times." 

And that is because, on this day, Zacchaeus meets Jesus and finds his moral compass.

Fritz, for all of his love of man and country, did not have a moral compass -- or, if he did, it could easily spin in arbitrary directions, whichever seemed most expedient or pragmatic for the cause he arbitrarily chose as most important. 

But for Zacchaeus-- when Jesus commands "Come down!"-- the needle of Zacchaeus' moral compass immediately points north. It has been calibrated, some may say "conformed," to the Truth. Hence, Zacchaeus immediately declares: "This day, I will give half of my possessions to the poor. And if I have extorted anyone, I will repay them four times over."

What a change!

This moment is tremendous for me. First, it reveals the incredible powers that Zacchaeus had beneath all of his intellectual and business prowess: he has an phenomenal power for justice and charity. "I will repay four times over!" Now that's an incredible act of penance!

And second-- and perhaps even more importantly-- it reveals the incredible power of Jesus. He says two words: "Come down!" And Zacchaeus comes down. It reminds me of how simple the proclamation was when God brought creation into being: "Let there be light!" Or when the priest, by the power of the Holy Spirit, changes bread into God-- not making "bread from air," but a greater miracle of bread into God-- when he says "This is my Body." The power in God's voice, in His Word, when He says a thing -- is ... incomprehensible, unfathomable, and so very beautiful to me. Truly, Lord, you can do all things! Just command my conversion, please, and let it be done!

Here is the theme, then, of that first reading. Notice the power of God: he overlooks our sins and spares us, rebuking us little by little so that we may repent. Of course, He could end us all, as in the flood, for all the world is in His hands and is as nothing in His scales, like mere dew. He can do all things, but He looks with clemency upon us. And I love this line: He "loathes nothing [He has] made."

He does not loathe you. He does not loathe this world, despite its troubles. But He does want its conversion. Which is why He came to it and comes to it again today. He comes to you. And He says to you: to where is your moral compass pointing? In which direction is your life pointed?

"Come down," He says. "I want to dine at your place tonight."

Imagine this for a moment. Zacchaeus could have felt dread! (Was his conversion real? The Lord was about the find out, oh God!) But it was because the Lord wanted to bring all the friends to conversion. He wanted to speak with them over the intimacy of dinner and fellowship, where the doors of the heart could be opened and heart could speak to heart.

I think you and I need to do this. Most of us pray before dinner. But is that moment a true opening of the heart to Jesus, to hear Him, to let Him recalibrate our lives and our moral compass so that we point in all things to Him? For me, I love to have a cup of coffee in the morning and sit with Him. I can bring to Him the worries of my day; the struggles of our country and who I am to vote for; the gratitude I have for His mercy "renewed each morning." 

Here, I remember a great quote by the French novelist Leon Bloy. He said: "The only real sadness, the only real failure, the only great tragedy in life, is not to become a saint."

To become a saint requires not that we are intelligent or shrewd or successful in the ways of the world. It requires that we have a moral compass that always and everywhere points to Jesus, that leads us to Him, to converse with Him and be found and led by Him.

It is the difference between Fritz and Zacchaeus, the world and the Christian.

To where-- or should I say: to whom-- does your moral compass point?

+ In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.