Invest Yourself in Heaven’s Reward

33rd Sunday in Ordinary Time
By Fr. Victor Feltes

As Jesus traveled from place to place he preached parables to different people. He told stories, for instance, featuring fields, fish, and flocks to teach farmers, fishermen, and shepherds about the Kingdom of God. It makes sense that Jesus would tell the same stories more than once, for different crowds to hear them for the first time and for his apostles to hear them repeatedly. But the gospels suggest Jesus sometimes changed his parables’ details to highlight different truths. What Jesus says in his Sermon on the Plain is similar but not identical to his Sermon on the Mount. As the Church journeys through our three-year cycle of Sunday readings we hear some parables retold by more than one gospel. And each fall, as we near the end of the Church year, our readings reflect upon the Four Last Things. Today, we have another such parable, about death and judgment, Heaven and Hell, Jesus Christ and us.

Christ is our Lord, our journeying master who shall return. We are his servants to whom he has entrusted our fortunes. And each of us one day will stand before him to give an account of our faithful or unfaithful service, with generous rewards or just punishments to follow. In Jesus’ telling through St. Matthew’s Gospel, the master entrusts weighty slabs of precious metal (called talents) in varying numbers to his servants, each according to their abilities. Upon his return, his faithful servants have doubled what they were given and receive the same words of praise: “Well done, my good and faithful servant! Since you were faithful in small matters, I will give you great responsibilities. Come, share your master’s joy!” One servant, however, who buried his talent and returned it ungrown, receives his master’s condemnation and is tossed into the darkness outside.

When Jesus retells his parable in St. Luke’s Gospel, the master is a nobleman who goes off to claim his kingdom, entrusting to ten servants one gold coin each. Upon his return, his faithful servants reveal their various positive returns on his investment. One has earned ten more gold coins and his king declares, “Well done, good servant! You have been faithful in this very small matter; take charge of ten cities.” Another servant has earned five more coins and the king decrees, “You, take charge of five cities.” One servant, however, hid his coin in a napkin and returned it unmultiplied. The king condemns that servant and orders all of his enemies who did not want him as their king to be slain.

The differences between these two parables highlight different truths about Heaven. In the first parable, the master speaks the same blessing to each faithful one: “Well done, good servant! … Come, share your master’s joy!” But in the other parable, the king gives his servant with ten additional coins ten cities and gives his servant with five additional coins five cities. So is Heaven’s reward the same for all the saints or can one’s reward be greater than another’s? One parable suggests their reward is the same, while the other suggests their rewards vary. On one hand, the reward of every saint is the same: they experience God’s unveiled glory forever in happy, loving communion with him and all who are in Christ. On the other hand, a great saint’s capacity for love and joy and glory may be greater than another’s.

Doctor of the Church St. Therese of Lisieux recounts in her great autobiography (“Story of a Soul”) how this idea once troubled her as a child: “One day, I expressed surprise that God does not give an equal amount of glory to all the elect in Heaven—I was afraid that they would not all be quite happy. [My older sister Pauline] sent me to fetch Papa’s big tumbler and put it beside my tiny thimble, then, filling both with water, she asked me which seemed the fuller. I replied that one was as full as the other—it was impossible to pour more water into either of them, for they could not hold it. In this way [she] made it clear to me that in Heaven the least of the Blessed does not envy the happiness of the greatest…”

Notice how in both forms of Jesus’ parable all the faithful servants are entrusted with greater responsibilities. The saints in Heaven are likewise given higher roles as our intercessors now and in the family and household of God forever. Consider how many churches, religious communities, and cities around the world are dedicated to St. Paul. They are blessed to have him as a loving patron praying for them. And consider how the Blessed Virgin Mary shall always hold a privileged place in Heaven as the spiritual mother of every Christian.

St. Paul says, “Consider this: whoever sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and whoever sows bountifully will also reap bountifully.” The generosity of our loving gifts to Christ, the additional sacrifices we make and good deeds we do, will surely not go unrewarded. Jesus tells us, “Give, and it will be given to you. Good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap. For the measure with which you measure will be measured out to you.” Our individual hustle, cooperating with Christ’s grace, can win us greater glory, therefore “run so as to win!”

We should not fear that we lack sufficient talents or gifts to produce good fruits for glory. In the first parable, every faithful servant was able to double his money and won his master’s praise. The issue with that unfruitful, condemned servant is that he never tried. His master calls him “wicked” and “lazy” because that servant did not make even the most minimal effort to grow his gift. “Should you not then have put my money in the bank so that I could have got it back with interest on my return?” That servant did not love his lord but rather resented his lordship over him. Which is easier: to digging a hole or visiting the bank? He did not want to be his master’s servant, he did not want him as his king, and so he finds himself condemned and cast out forever. But if we love our Lord we will produce fruit, just as “every good tree bears good fruit.” As Jesus declares, “Whoever remains in me and I in him will bear much fruit.”

What is something more that you will do with the talents and gifts our Lord has lent you? It could be something large or small, in private or with others. You could be a more-focused prayer warrior, or offer secret penances for the salvation of souls. You could start a Catholic book or movie club at your home, or organize a regular Bible study that discusses the upcoming Sunday readings. You could visit shut-ins as an extraordinary Eucharistic minister, or invite somebody new each week to come with you to Mass. There are many good things you could do and I urge you to consider and answer this call, for Jesus Christ will honor your faithful, loving efforts with glorious rewards.

Controversial Mercy in the Vineyard

25th Sunday in Ordinary Time
By Fr. Victor Feltes

The landowner in Jesus’ parable recruits workers throughout the day. He goes to the marketplace at dawn, at nine, at noon, at three, and at five, hiring laborers each time and sending them to work in his vineyard. At the end of the day, he pays his longest laborers one silver denarius coin (the wage to which they had previously agreed) but he surprisingly also pays even his briefest employees the same amount. When some grumble at this, the boss replies, “My friend, I am not cheating you. Did you not agree with me for the usual daily wage? …Am I not free to do as I wish with my own money? Are you envious because I am generous?” Why did the employer risk this HR controversy? Why did he wish to pay the later workers so generously? The Old Covenant gives us insight into his motivation.

God commanded in the Book of Leviticus, “Do not hold back the wages of a hired worker overnight.” Then the Book of Deuteronomy explains why: “On each day you shall pay the servant’s wages before the sun goes down, since the servant is poor and is counting on them.” Now, if this vineyard owner had promptly paid his one-hour workers proportionally less than his full-day workers, that’s equal pay for equal work. But he pays all of them the same full wage because he is acting mercifully. He understands that his servants are poor, that their families are poor, and that they depend upon this pay for their daily bread. Rather than letting them go hungry, he generously provides. We see expressed throughout the Scriptures God’s special care and concern for the poor and the vulnerable, and our God calls us to be like himself.

Still, we can feel the grumblers’ grievance when they complain: “These last ones worked only one hour, and you have made them equal to us, who bore the day’s burden and the heat!” And yet, those last-hired laborers were trying their best. They report that they were standing idle in the marketplace all day simply because nobody had hired them. Assuming they aren’t lying, these workers were not lazy, just unlucky. They came when they were called and received an equal reward.

In this parable, our Lord is the landowner, we are his laborers, and our payment is heaven. This parable presents hope for the unconverted. Though your days may have been wasted up to now, you can still heed our Lord’s calling and receive his merciful generosity as your reward. It may be your final hour, but do not despair and walk away forever. Answer Christ’s call. Believe, repent, and be saved.

For Christians who feel that they have labored hard and long for the Lord, I wish to address a bitter temptation you might be feeling: “If those who repent on their deathbeds get to go to heaven too, why shouldn’t I sin and just repent later?” For starters, this attitude is dangerously presumptuous. You do not know the final hour when the sun will set on your life. You may never get around to repenting before facing your eternal judgment. Furthermore, your repentance must be sincere, and God cannot be fooled.

And finally, do not imagine that the grass is greener away from Jesus. Yes, laborers in Christ’s vineyard must bear burdens and heat, yet those outside the vineyard are not at rest. They stand all day in the uncomfortable marketplace, spiritually impoverished, without true purpose, and anxious about their future. Remember that living a life apart from Christ is no paradise.

Jesus’ challenging parable about the generous landowner and his vineyard workers reminds us of God’s special concern for the poor and of our calling to practice the same. It reminds us of God’s incredible mercy and the need for all of us to answer his call to repentance. And it reminds us of God’s loving generosity, that he is all-good, and deserving of all our love.

What Money Cannot Buy

25th Sunday of Ordinary Time
By Fr. Chinnappan Pelavendran

Today’s liturgy reminds us that we are God’s stewards and that God expects faithful and prudent stewardship from us. The readings challenge us to use our God-given talents, wealth, and blessings wisely to attain Heavenly bliss. Today’s first reading from the book of Amos speaks against greed. The prophet speaks for the poor and the needy. They have God as their protector. The Israelites were waiting impatiently for the end of the holy days and Sabbaths so that they could proceed with their dishonest practices. In this specific case, the feast of the new moon was taking place. According to tradition, the first day of the new moon, like the Sabbath, was a day of rest. During these celebrations, without exception, no business was to be transacted. However, the Israelites were violating the Lord’s commands and drew His condemnation.

In today’s second reading, St. Paul invites us to pray for everyone, especially kings, rulers, leaders, and all those in charge. This prayer is necessary for conversion because, once we are converted we avoid corruption, injustice, and greed. Oppression of the poor is removed from our society. If everyone was to pray for those in authority, there would be better persons in power and better service to the public. Then, all people may live a quiet and peaceable life and come to salvation through the one mediator, Christ Jesus.

In the gospel, Jesus brings to light the fact that money and material things do not last forever, and therefore He advises us on how to make use of them without losing our salvation. It is the will of God that we should be happy here and have a share in the rich resources with which he endowed our world. The parable points out that Christians should be as prudent and resourceful in acquiring goodness as the steward was in acquiring money and making his future safe. Christians must give as much attention to things that concern their souls as they do to the things that concern worldly matters.

Jesus reminds us that earthly resources will eventually run out. Hence, our material possessions should be used for the good of others. The right use of wealth is, according to Jesus, to help the poor, the hungry, and the starving. That is the way that we make friends with God and please God.

There are many people in the Catholic Church who understand that God has given us money so that we can be generous to the needy, the poor, and the starving. Thus many of us are making wise investments for the future. Our Heavenly destiny depends on how we use the things of earth. Jesus gives us this parable in order to help us to see that our time is coming to an end and that we need to prepare an accounting. We must check whether we were using God’s gifts of wealth, health, talents, and other blessings selfishly. Or, were we using them for His glory by sharing them with others? Money is an instrument that can buy everything but happiness. It can purchase a ticket to every place but Heaven.

Learning from the Dishonest Steward

25th Sunday in Ordinary Time
Fr. Victor Feltes

In today’s strange parable, Jesus presents the scheming of a thief and a liar as an example we can learn from. We are not to imitate this dishonest steward’s treachery but rather his proactive shrewdness, “for the children of this world are more prudent in dealing with their own generation than are the children of light.”

How shrewdly proactive are we in doing good? We hunt for bargains at the store or online. But do we pursue opportunities to be generous? You have wealth and skills – so share them creatively. We invest and save for retirement. But do we intentionally store up treasure in heaven like Jesus tells us to? You can take nothing with you when you die; but you can increase what wealth awaits you by sending it ahead of you beforehand through generous deeds done now on earth. Jesus tells us to be “as shrewd as serpents and as innocent as doves.” He wants us, in cooperation with his grace, to show initiative in strategically and sinlessly serving his Kingdom for God’s glory, for our good, and for the good of all. That’s a worthwhile takeaway, but let’s look a little deeper. Like many of Jesus’ stories, today’s parable contains weird details which goad us to grapple with it further. What do we discover when we imagine ourselves in the shoes of the dishonest steward?

In this story, a rich man has a steward who was reported to him for squandering his property. (A steward is someone entrusted to manage another’s property, finances, or affairs.) The master summons his servant and said, “What is this I hear about you? Prepare a full account of your stewardship, because you can no longer be my steward.” If you and I are this steward, then who is our rich master? Our Lord is God. We are his servants, and who could be richer than the one from whom all good things come?

What has God entrusted to us? St. Paul replies, “What do you have that you did not receive? … For we brought nothing into the world.” Even the hardest-working farmer relies upon God’s soil, sun, air, and water to transform the seeds into his harvest. Even our own efforts in doing good come from God, “for God is the one who, for his good purpose, works in you both to desire and to work,” as St. Paul tells the Philippians. Every good thing we have is his.

Have we squandered what God entrusted to us as stewards? Every sin is a misuse of what we’ve been given, and who of us has used what we were given to its full potential? Our Lord has put us on notice that a day is coming when our present stewardship will end with a full accounting of our stewardship, “for we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ,” St. Paul writes, “then each of us shall give an account of himself to God.”

The steward in the parable says to himself, “What shall I do, now that my master is taking the position of steward away from me? I am not strong enough to dig and I am ashamed to beg.” He recognizes he is too weak and too proud. Similarly, who of us is strong enough to overcome death, to dig ourselves out of the grave? And if you or I were perfectly humble instead of proud, we would always live in the truth (about who God is and who we are) and we would never sin—and yet we do sin.

The steward says to himself, “I know what I shall do so that when I am removed from the stewardship they may welcome me into their homes.” He calls in his master’s debtors one by one, asking them, “How much do you owe my master?” He then forgives portions of their debts – sometimes a fifth or a half of what they owe. And in the end, amazingly, when what this dishonest steward has done is revealed, even his betrayed master commends him for acting prudently and this steward is welcomed into many mansions.

The Our Father prayer as it appears in St. Matthew’s Gospel says, “forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors.” Whenever someone sins against you they sin against God too, creating a kind of debt, but you yourself can forgive a portion of that debt. When our Lord sees this, he commends you for it. “Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy.” And when you are more mercifully generous than what is deserved, you gain blessings. “For the measure with which you measure will be measured out to you.” So learn from the dishonest steward. Forgive the sin-debts of others, be creative and proactive in your generosity on earth, and one day “you will be welcomed into eternal dwellings.”

Our Upper Room

Pentecost Sunday
By Fr. Victor Feltes

Before his Passion in Jerusalem, Jesus desired a gathering place for him and his disciples. He sent Peter and John into the city, telling them to find a certain house and ask the owner of the home to use its guestroom. They did as Jesus asked and found “a large upper room, furnished and ready.”

This famous room, known as “the Cenacle,” was the site of the Last Supper, the First Holy Eucharist or Mass. Here the Risen Lord appeared to his Apostles after his Resurrection. This is where Mary, the Apostles, and other disciples (“a group of about one hundred and twenty persons in the one place”) “devoted themselves with one accord to prayer.” And here on Pentecost, following the Church’s first novena, the Holy Spirit descended upon the disciples in the likeness of separating flames. Then they went forth from there into the world, joyfully proclaiming Jesus to the nations with confidence and power.

Jesus desired his disciples to gather together in the Upper Room. There they meet with him, heard his teaching, and came to know that he is risen. They ate with him and worshiped him. And there his followers socialized, prayed as one, and received the Holy Spirit.

Sometimes people ask, “If God is everywhere, why do I have to go to church?” Yes, there is no place where God is not, but this excuse misses something important. Water is likewise everywhere around us—in clouds, in blades of grass, as vapor in the air—but if you do not wish to die of thirst you are well-advised to drink water from a well or a faucet. Jesus tells us, “If anyone is thirsty, let him come to me and drink.”

In the words of the Letter to the Hebrews, “We should not stay away from our assembly, as is the custom of some.” This church, St. John the Baptist’s, is our Upper Room. Here we gather together and encounter Jesus Christ in his sacraments, Here we listen, and worship, and receive his gifts, blessings meant for us and for others in this world. Like the Apostles in the Upper Room, we did not build this room or parish. This holy place has been lent to us by those who were before us, and the Holy Spirit inspires us to care for and sustain it.

This weekend at St. John’s is Commitment Weekend for our “Inspired by the Spirit” Capital Campaign. You have probably heard me speak about this campaign before, either at receptions or back on Announcement Weekend. 35% of our $80,000 goal funds our 2022-2023 Annual Appeal and other worthy diocesan initiatives, while 65% the goal returns to us to replenish our greatly diminished building maintenance fund.

Now the maintenance of parish facilities is not a flashy thing. Patching cracks in our parking lot or replacing our furnaces as they fail from old age are less exciting endeavors than when we renovated this church of ours into one of the most beautiful in our area. But without funding for the care and maintenance of the mundane things this parish and its mission will fail. That is why I ask you to join me in making a pledge to this five-year capital campaign.

Our pledging phase ends on June 17th, less than two weeks away. So far our recorded pledges total $60,000, so we have $20,000 in pledges to go. If we happen to raise more than our $80,000 goal, know that 80% of that surplus comes back to our parish. I’ll give you an opportunity to fill out a pledge card today during announcement time before the final blessing. I ask you to prayerfully consider pledging a $3,000 gift spread-out over five years, which (after a 10% initial down payment) works out to $45 monthly (above your usual tithing) for 60 months. If you are blessed to be able to pledge more generously than this, please do. If you can only pledge less, that’s ok too. And if you pledge a certain amount now and three of four years from now your financial circumstances change, you can just let us know and we’ll modify your pledge.

On the first Pentecost, the Holy Spirit inspired Christ’s disciples to go out into the world, sharing Jesus Christ and his salvation with all nations. But realize this mission began in their Upper Room. Please pledge generously to support our Upper Room: St. John the Baptist Parish.

Widows’ Gifts

32nd Sunday in Ordinary Time

In today’s gospel, Jesus says, “Beware of the scribes… They devour the houses of widows and, as a pretext, recite lengthy prayers. They will receive a very severe condemnation.” Jesus denounced those scribes for their greedy hypocrisy. In recent decades, some televangelists and megachurches’ prosperity preachers have told believers ‘give your money to our ministry and God will bless you back with even more,‘ and then used the meager wealth of many widows to purchase mansions or private jets. This of course, gives scandal, leading many to think faith is just a grift and alienating people from Christ. Is it wrong for preachers to be paid? St. Paul defends the right of ministers to receive compensation, “for scripture says, ‘The laborer deserves his wages,’” but our holy work is not meant to be about getting rich.

The presence of unworthy motives among some Christian ministers is nothing new. St. Paul writes to the church at Corinth, “We are not like so many others who trade on the word of God for profit.” Such men were a problem in Paul’s day, too. So it might seem that poor widows should never be asked to give and that poor widows should never donate. That answer would be simple, yet God’s truth is not that simple.

In today’s first reading, the Prophet Elijah meets the widow of Zarephath during a time of great drought. He asks her for a cup of water and a bit of bread. She replies, “There is only a handful of flour in my jar and a little oil in my jug. Just now I was collecting a couple of sticks, to go in and prepare something for myself and my son; when we have eaten it, we shall die.” (She is preparing their last meal.) But Elijah says, “Do not be afraid. Go and do as you propose. But first make me a little cake and bring it to me. Then you can prepare something for yourself and your son. For the Lord, the God of Israel, says, ‘The jar of flour shall not go empty, nor the jug of oil run dry, until the day when the Lord sends rain upon the earth.’” She left and did as Elijah had said. And the poor widow, her fatherless child, and God’s prophet were all able to eat for a year. The jar of flour did not go empty, and the jug of oil did not run dry, as the Lord had foretold through Elijah. As today’s psalm tells, “The Lord keeps faith forever… The fatherless and the widow he sustains.”

And in our gospel today, when Jesus sees a poor widow putting into the Temple treasury two small coins, which is all she has and her whole livelihood, what does he do? He does not try to stop her. He does not criticize her for being foolish. He calls his disciples to himself, he points her out to them, and he glorifies her trust in God in having given more than all the others. Her deed is still remembered to this day. Would it have been better if she had not given her gift?

I do not have a one-size-fits-all answer for how much poor widows should give. The Catechism teaches that the Church’s precept, “’You shall help to provide for the needs of the Church,’ means that the faithful are obliged to assist with the material needs of the Church, each according to his own ability,” so there’s recognition that some people have greater or lesser ability than others to materially assist the Church’s mission in this world. But if even poor widows are sometimes called to give, to trust in the Lord and give him the chance to prove himself their faithful provider, how much more so are the rest of us called to be generous?

We live in the wealthiest country in all of human history, and yet most of us only give a tiny fraction of our income to church and charity to support the good works they do. What accounts for this? Some of it is from the love of money and some of it is from fear. The Book of Ecclesiastes says, “He who loves money is never satisfied by money, and he who loves wealth is never satisfied by income.” Some are slaves to their greed, and some are shackled to their anxiety.

As an early teen, I felt reluctance at giving any money away for anything. I thought, “Who knows what my future holds? What if I need that money later? Every dollar I give away now is another dollar I’m exposed to future, unseen danger.” My mindset wasn’t informed by the Gospel, but when I finally read the Gospels myself I encountered Jesus’ teaching there. He says: “Do not worry and say, ‘What are we to eat?’ or ‘What are we to drink?’ or ‘What are we to wear?’ All these things the pagans seek. Your heavenly Father knows that you need them all. But seek first the Kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given you besides. … Give and gifts will be given to you; a good measure, packed together, shaken down, and overflowing, will be poured into your lap.” The Lord was calling me beyond my comfort zone and into a deeper relationship with him.

I remember standing in St. Paul, Minnesota’s awe-inspiring cathedral. It was my first time there and I saw near the south exit a donation box labeled “For The Poor.” The largest bill in my wallet was a ten or a twenty, and I both wanted and very much did not want to give it, yet I knew what I should do. Once I had done it, I walked out smiling. It was a small donation, but even then I knew it was a big moment, and it changed the rest of my life.

I recall the story of one married couple. They used to pay their bills and then give to God if there was something left —and sometime there was nothing left. But God put it on their hearts to tithe consistently, so they began setting aside their gift to him first before paying their bills. And when they approached their giving in this way they discovered there was providentially always enough for both God and the bills.

God commands, “You shall not put the Lord, your God, to the test,” yet in his Old Testament Book of Malachi he says to test him in this: “Bring the whole tithe into the storehouse, that there may be food in my house. Put me to the test, says the Lord of hosts, and see if I do not open the floodgates of heaven for you, and pour down upon you blessing without measure!”

And so, without embarrassment, I ask you to be generous in giving, not only so that our church may put your gifts to good use, but for the sake of deepening your personal relationship with our good and faithful God.

Conversion Within — 6th Sunday in Ordinary Time—Year A

Ash Wednesday, the beginning of our Lenten journey to Easter, is only a week and a half away. The season of Lent is for penance, conversion, and growing closer to our Lord. Jesus comes not only to forgive sinners but to transform us into saints. This year, would you like to become the best person in Christ that you have ever been? If so, then let’s begin to form a plan.

Lots of people give up something during Lent. Some people give up a particular food, like cookies, chocolate, ice cream, candy, potato chips, or pizza. Some people give up something they drink, like coffee, soda pop, or alcoholic beverages. Some people give up a habit, a thing small like spitting, chewing Gum, or biting their nails, or something grave, like smoking, chewing, or vaping. While other people give up desserts, snacks, junk food, fast food, or meals at restaurants. What do all these popular penances have in common? One’s mouth.

Fasting from a particular food or beverage is a fine Christian penance. Unless you’re exempted by age or health, abstaining from meat on Ash Wednesday and Lenten Fridays is already a part of our hared Church disciplines. But far more important than the things eat or drink with our mouths are the things that go on within our souls. Jesus once summoned the crowd and said to them, “Hear and understand. It is not what enters one’s mouth that defiles that person; but what comes out of the mouth is what defiles one.” When Peter and the disciples asked what he meant by this, Jesus explained: “The things that come out of the mouth come from the heart, and they defile. For from the heart come evil thoughts, murder, adultery, unchastity, theft, false witness, blasphemy. These are what defile a person.” The small and secret choices we make inside us lead to manifest effects around us.

First, an important point about the things that go on inside us. Thoughts, feelings, imaginings, and memories will often arise in our minds unexpectedly, unsought, and unreflectively. A temptation can be like this; an ugly thought or feeling, an idea or inclination to do something wrong, can come our way without our having willed it. Some people think they’re sinning when this happens. Not so. Remember that a saint is not someone who never experiences temptation, but someone who chooses what’s right and good and loving even when faced with temptation. We only do good or evil when we make a choice of the will; a choice to act or not act, to keep thinking about something or to try to think about something else. I mention all this because people commonly confess unwilled temptations they never consented to as if they we sins. Mere temptations are not sins or failures; they are a crossroads where we can choose the holy path, they are an occasion for us to do Christian battle, they are an opportunity for us to deepen our relationship with Christ.

In today’s Gospel from the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus calls us beyond merely external holiness that other people can see to holiness through and through: “Unless your righteousness surpasses that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will not enter the Kingdom of Heaven.” Jesus reminds his disciples, “You have heard that it was said to your ancestors, You shall not kill. You shall not commit adultery. Do not take a false oath.” But then Jesus goes even further, for instance: “I say to you, whoever is angry with his brother will be liable to judgment; and whoever says to his brother, ‘Raqa, [blockhead]’ will be answerable to the Sanhedrin; and whoever says, ‘You fool,’ will be liable to fiery Gehenna.” Murder doesn’t come out of nowhere. It comes from contempt and hatred of others. As a Christian, you are not allowed to hate people. Scripture insists: “If anyone says, ‘I love God,’ but hates his brother, he is a liar; for whoever does not love a brother whom he has seen cannot love God whom he has not seen. This is the commandment we have from him: whoever loves God must also love his brother.” True, you might enjoy some people more than others. The nose might not find it pleasant to be around the armpits in the Body of Christ even as each member serves the others’ good. If there is anyone you dislike, remember that likes and dislikes are natural, but love—to will the good of another—is a decision, a choice you can always make. If there is anyone you hate or strongly dislike, I urge you to pray for them, since it is impossible to pray for someone and hate them at the same time. Perhaps for this Lent, focus on giving up your criticism of others and choose to focus on the best in everyone.

Jesus continues, “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall not commit adultery. But I say to you, everyone who looks at a woman with lust has already committed adultery with her in his heart.’” Why did Adam and Eve put on clothes after they ate of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and evil? It’s not because their bodies were shameful, but because each of them realized for the first time that they could be manipulated and exploited by the other, used as a thing rather than loved as a person. This is what lust is, using another person as a thing for my own pleasure without care, concern, or love for them. And to think that lusts entertained in secret have no impact on how we behave or treat others in public is naive. Sexual sins can cost you your soul. For this Lent, perhaps focus on giving up using others for your pleasure and choose to see and love each person, even strangers, as God-loved person they are.

And finally, Jesus observes: “You have heard that it was said to your ancestors, Do not take a false oath, but make good to the Lord all that you vow. But I say to you, do not swear at all; not by heaven, for it is God’s throne; nor by the earth, for it is his footstool; nor by Jerusalem, for it is the city of the great King.” Apparently, some of Jesus’ Jewish contemporaries tried to gain the credibility associated with solemn oaths while avoiding divine punishments for speaking falsely. Jesus corrects them noting that all things are God’s, so to swear falsely by Heaven, Earth, Jerusalem, or your own head is no less sinful. Instead, Jesus teaches: “Do not swear at all (in everyday life.) Let your ‘Yes’ mean ‘Yes,’ and your ‘No’ mean ‘No.’ Anything more is from the evil one.” Your reputation for speaking the truth should be such that no oaths are necessary. Now being honest doesn’t mean you have to share every your thought or answer every question. But Jesus never lies, and he wants you to be like him. And once you no longer have dishonesty to evade responsibility, your other behaviors will improve as well. Maybe for this Lent, focus on giving up lying. Let your ‘Yes’ mean ‘Yes,’ and your ‘No’ mean ‘No,’ to be closer to the Holy One.

Lent, a season for penance, conversion, and growing closer to our Lord is just around the corner. This year, would you like to become the best person in Christ that you have ever been? Then form a plan to welcome the grace of Jesus Christ to transform you from the inside out.

Generous Stewards — 25th Sunday of Ordinary Time—Year C

Of all of Jesus’ parables, today’s is among the most peculiar: “Hey disciples, listen to my story about a dishonest steward who successfully swindles his boss. You can learn from him!” Elsewhere in the Gospels, Jesus says, “You shall not steal; you shall not bear false witness; you shall not defraud… Let your ‘Yes’ mean ‘Yes,’ and your ‘No’ mean ‘No.’ Anything more is from the evil one.” So what lesson does Jesus want us to learn from this antihero?

Well, we have a lot in common with that fellow. We are in a similar situation. Our Creator God, the sustainer of the universe, is like the rich man, to whom by right belongs everything in the heavens and the earth. We are his stewards, the managers of his possessions, who each must present an account of our stewardship once our positions here on earth are taken away from us. Knowing this day of reckoning approaches, what shall we do? We have often squandered what has been entrusted to us. We are too weak to dig ourselves from the grave of death. And we are too proud, for if we lived fully in the truth, about who God is and who we are, we would not sin. Jesus urges us to follow the dishonest steward’s example, to be very generous, so that after this life, when we are removed from our present stewardship, we may live happily together with friends forever.

The dishonest steward calls in his master’s debtors individually. To the first he says, “How much do you owe my master?” That man replies, “100 measures (that is, 800 or 900 gallons) of olive oil.” He says to him, “Here’s your bill. Sit down and quickly write one for 50 (measures.)” Then the steward says to another, “And you, how much do you owe?” He replies, “100 kors (that is, 10 or 12 hundred bushels) of wheat.” The steward says to him, “Here’s your debt note; write one for 80 (kors.)”

Elsewhere in Luke’s Gospel, the forgiving of sins is likened to the forgiving of debts. Every sin creates a debt because it is depriving another of what is rightfully owed to them. Stealing deprives others of property, lying deprives them of the truth, and rudeness deprives them of the respect and kindness they deserve. Sin forms a debt, first and foremost with God, but also towards the people we trespass against. Luke’s version of the Our Father says, “Give us each day our daily bread, and forgive us our sins, for we ourselves forgive everyone in debt to us.”

Some have suggested that the steward in today’s parable was simply forgiving the portion of his master’s accounts which was his own rightful commission as steward. If we are prudent, we will quickly take the present opportunity to forgive our debtors the share of debts they owe us by forgiving the sins they have sinned against us. For we have it on Jesus’ word, “If you forgive others their transgressions, your heavenly Father will forgive you. But if you do not forgive others, neither will your Father forgive your transgressions.” Forgiveness means loving those who have wronged you, it means, at the very least, praying for them. The person you have a hard time praying for is who you need to pray for.

This lesson about forgiveness is true, but I am not convinced that the steward here was an upright servant merely forgoing his fair share. His urging that the debtors “quickly” write new invoices suggests that he and they are doing something that they don’t want to be discovered. Jesus himself called him dishonest, and the varied commissions of 50% off of the olive oil while getting a 20% commission from the wheat are strange. More likely, this steward is covering the tracks of his embezzlement. If the steward had given every debtor the same write-off, say, a 50% markdown for everyone, the master could have easily undone the scheme by doubling all the figures back. But because of these varying percentages (20% here, 50% there) the deed cannot be reversed, and even the master cannot help but to admire the steward’s cunning craftiness.

Forgiveness is always timely, but this parable is really about being generous with the material possessions God has entrusted to your care. Jesus ends today’s gospel declaring, “You cannot serve both God and mammon.” That is to say, you cannot love God and riches. Like a servant with two masters, or an employee with two bosses, you will either hate one and love the other, or be devoted to one and despise the other. A person who is trustworthy in small things will be trustworthy in great ones; and a person who is dishonest in small things will be dishonest in great ones. If we are not trustworthy with dishonest wealth, with these passing things on earth, how can we be entrusted with the true wealth of Heaven where everyone loves their neighbor as themselves?

When I consider that we’re arguably living in the all-time wealthiest country in the world, living in the greatest technological comfort of any stage of human history, I wonder if I am being generous enough with the possessions given to me. This question concerns me. I think about these powerful words of St. Basil the Great, from a 4th century homily he preached:

“When someone steals another’s clothes, we call them a thief. Should we not give the same name to one who could clothe the naked and does not? The bread in your cupboard belongs to the hungry; the coat unused in your closet belongs to the one who needs it; the shoes rotting in your closet belong to the one who has no shoes; the money which you hoard up belongs to the poor. Thus, the more there are whom you could help, the more there are whom you are wronging.” St. Basil delivers this gut punch to his hearers who always say, “I have nothing to give. I am only a poor man”: “A poor man you certainly are, and destitute of all real riches; you are poor in love, generosity, faith in God and hope for eternal happiness. Give to a hungry man,” St. Basil urges, “and what you give becomes yours, and indeed it returns to you with interest. As the sower profits from wheat that falls onto the ground, so will you profit greatly in the world to come from the bread that you place before a hungry man.” St. Basil notes, “You are going to leave your money behind you here whether you wish to or not. On the other hand, you will take with you to the Lord the honor that you have won through good works. In the presence of the universal judge, all the people will surround you, acclaim you as a public benefactor, and tell of your generosity and kindness.”

This Sunday is our parish Fall Festival. I invite you to come, to enjoy it, and to generously support it. I am not ashamed to ask you to give generously to our parish because I believe in the great importance and the great goodness of what we do here. But supporting the work of Christ in our parish is not the end of our calling to generous stewardship in this wide world of needs, both spiritual and material. Give like a saint so that someday you may hear the Lord declare to you, “Well done, my good and faithful servant. Since you were faithful in small matters, I will give you great responsibilities. Come share your master’s joy.”

3 Interpretations of the Parable of the Dishonest Steward

Luke 16:1-13

#1: The previously-dishonest steward is merely writing-off his own commissions. Likewise, we must forgive our debtors’ debts (or sins) so that we may be shown mercy. (Matthew 6:12) But why would his commissions be 20% for one debt and 50% on another? Perhaps the dishonest steward is actually covering his thievery’s tracks. Which brings us to…

#2: The steward is giving away what belongs to the rich man, his boss. Likewise, everything that we possess belongs to God, but we win favor though sharing these blessings with others. Both Mercy and Generosity win welcome into eternal dwellings, for Jesus says ‘whatever you do for the least of these you do it for me’ and ‘the measure with which you measure will be measured out to you.’

#3: What would have become of the dishonest steward without his decisive plan and action? Disaster. Likewise, we must be intentional about our own religious/spiritual growth. “The children of this world are more prudent in dealing with their own generation than are the children of light.” What excuse do we have? More importantly, what is our plan?

Be Rich In What Matters — 18th Sunday of Ordinary Time—Year C

The Parable of the Rich Fool by Rembrandt, 1627.

A large crowd surrounds Jesus as he preaches and teaches. During a brief pause, a man in the crowd says to Jesus, “Teacher, tell my brother to share the inheritance with me!” Presumably, his brother is there amongst them as well (otherwise how could Jesus reprove him?) Yet the Lord replies to the man, “Friend, who appointed me as your judge and arbitrator?” That seems like an odd response from Jesus. Is Jesus denying his own authority?  On a different occasion, Jesus stated, “If I should judge, my judgment is valid, because I am not alone, but it is I and the Father who sent me.” Imagine if the man in the crowd had answered Jesus’ rhetorical question, “Friend, who appointed me as your judge and arbitrator?” The man might say, “Well Teacher, we think you’re God’s prophet, so you speak for God.”

To this, Jesus could reply, “Indeed, the words that I speak to you I do not speak on my own. But if you accept that I am God’s prophet, that I speak for God, then listen and heed all that I teach, not just the things you want to hear. On the last day, when I return in my glory with all the angels with me, I will sit upon my glorious throne with all peoples assembled before me and I shall judge and separate the righteous and the unrighteous, one from another, as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. Yet, my Father God did not send me into this world to condemn the world, but that the world might be saved through me.”

In our Gospel, Jesus goes on to tell the crowd (including those two feuding brothers): “Take care to guard against all greed, for though one may be rich, one’s life does not consist of possessions.” Jesus is warning the crowd, the brothers, and us that ‘personal bitterness and earthly greed will hinder you from entering the Kingdom.’ Rather, we must keep a heavenly perspective. As St. Paul urges in our second reading, “seek what is above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God. Think of what is above, not of what is on earth.”

Of course, we all have material needs as human beings here on earth —we’re not angels and we need our daily bread. So Jesus teaches us to practice prudent stewardship, marked by frugality, generosity, and a trust in the Lord that frees us from worthless worrying. However, both Jesus in our Gospel and King Solomon in our first reading note the futility of amassing riches for ourselves.

Jesus tells a parable of “a rich man whose land produced a bountiful harvest. He asked himself, ‘What shall I do, for I do not have space to store my harvest?’” (Notice how “He asked himself, ‘What shall I do?” The man does not look beyond himself for holy wisdom or guidance.)

“And [then the rich man] said, ‘This is what I shall do: I shall tear down my barns and build larger ones.” (Why does he need to tear down his old barns? Does not the rich man, who just reaped a bountiful harvest, own plenty of land on which to build more barns? It seems his vanity desires to tear down the old barns so that his new barns may be huge and impressive.)

The rich man continues his conversation with himself, “[In my new barns] I shall store all my grain and other goods and I shall say to myself, ‘Now as for you, you have so many good things stored up for many years, rest, eat, drink, be merry!’” (He shows no thought for his family or friends, his neighbors or the needy, only his own personal pleasure.)

The rich man has made grand plans for himself, but God says to him, “You fool, this night your life will be demanded of you!” If this man is only interested in his own will, his own glory, and his own happiness in this life, then how will he love his neighbors, hallow God’s name, or desire God’s will in the next life?

To find ourselves at home in Heaven someday we should seek and follow God’s will for our time, talents, and treasure today. We should practice faithful stewardship, with prudence and trust, frugality and generosity. And this stewardship should include tithing and supporting worthy causes—not to buy Heaven (for God cannot be bribed or bought) but in order to become more virtuous and loving, to become more fit for Heaven. Those who store up treasure for themselves on earth profit nothing in the end. Let us not be foolish. Let us instead become rich in what matters to God by becoming more like Jesus, who has been so generous to us.

History’s Ten Wealthiest People and the Vanity of Riches

In estimated billions of present-day dollars

10. Cornelius Vanderbilt ($185, died 1877)
    This railroad tycoon’s only large philanthropic gift gave about 1% of his fortune to build Vanderbilt University.

9. Henry Ford ($199, died 1947)
   This deceased automaker’s name survives on vehicles seen upon every road and junkyard.

8. Muammar Gaddafi ($200, died 2011)
   This dictator of Libya, after being discovered hiding in a desert culvert, was killed by his people.

7. Jakob Fugger “the Rich” ($221, died 1525)
   While he lived, this German merchant-financier declared, “The king reigns, but the bank rules!“

6. William The Conqueror ($229, died 1087)
   After killing many to capture England, this Duke of Normandy, France joined the dead.

5. Mir Osman Ali Khan ($230, died 1967)
   As head of the state of Hyderabad, India, he used a 185-carat diamond as a paperweight.

4. Czar Nikolas II ($300, died 1918)
   This Russian ruler was assassinated along with his family by communist revolutionaries.

3. Andrew Carnegie ($310, died 1919)
   This steel magnate and philanthropist said, “The man who dies rich dies disgraced.”

2. John D. Rockefeller ($340, died 1937)
   He sold oil drawn from Ohio’s earth and now lays buried in the same.

1. Mansa Musa I ($400, died 1337)
   This African king of Mali was the richest man to ever live. But have you ever heard of him?

Psalm 49:7-12 :

“No man can buy his own ransom, or pay a price to God for his life. The ransom of his soul is beyond him. He cannot buy life without end, nor avoid coming to the grave. He knows that wise men and fools must both perish and must leave their wealth to others. Their graves are their homes for ever, their dwelling place from age to age, though their names spread wide through the land. In his riches, man lacks wisdom; he is like the beasts that are destroyed.”

 

A Game of Monopoly & the Rich Man

Gospel: Luke 16:19-31
Thursday, 2nd Week of Lent

    A UC-Berkley psychology professor sets two people down for an experiment: the pair will play a game of Monopoly with modified rules. One player will get the Rolls Royce while the other will be the old shoe. The player with the car will start with $2,000 and play by standard Monopoly rules, while the old shoe’s player gets $1,000, rolls just one die (making doubles impossible,) and collects only $100 for passing “Go.” Who gets which is decided by a fateful coin-flip. At the end of the game, the professor asks the winner (invariably the Rolls Royce player) whether they feel like they deserved to win the game. And the winner always says ‘yes.’

    I can understand the winner’s perspective. At the beginning of the game both players had a fair chance of winning (for either could have ended up with the car,) but the winner won that coin flip, played by the rules, and did what was necessary to arrive at victory. If the winner had cheated the loser, stealing cash or refusing rents, then that victory would feel undeserved.

    The Rich Man who showed no concern for poor Lazarus may have felt like one of those Rolls Royce players. He “dressed in purple garments and fine linen and dined sumptuously each day,” but nothing in the text indicates that he had defrauded or exploited anyone to obtain his wealth. Maybe he looked at poor people like Lazarus and shrugged, “Some receive what is good in their lifetimes while others receive what is bad,” words that Father Abraham would throw back in his face. Perhaps the Rich Man had not so much perpetrated evils, but rather (ignoring the Scriptures) felt no responsibility to help the less fortunate outside his door.

    May the one who reads this—a winner in the coin-toss of life—not be condemned for failing to give alms.

Generosity & Envy — 25th Sunday in Ordinary Time—Year A

Readings: Isaiah 22:6-9; Philippians 1:20c-24, 27a; Matthew 20:1-16a

He woke up while it was still dark and kissed his wife while she slept.

He dressed and left home quietly, so as not to wake up the children across the room.

He walked into town and came to the large market square, where the venders were already setting up shop, and day laborers like himself were congregating.

At dawn, landowners came to hire men to harvest their vineyards and fields.

He was left behind, yet he did not leave.

Hopefully, someone would hire him at noon for at least a half-day’s work.

Three o’clock came, and he was still standing there unemployed, refusing to go home. How could he go home… empty-handed?

Around five o’clock, a landowner found him and asked, “Why do you stand here idle all day?”

Speaking for those standing with him he answered, “Because no one has hired us.”

The landowner said to them, “You too go into my vineyard.”

When it was evening, the vineyard owner had his foreman summon the harvesters and pay them—in this he was abiding by the command in the book of Leviticus, “You shall not withhold overnight the wages of your laborer.”

When he received his pay, the man thought there had been some mistake.

Though he worked only an hour, he had been given a silver denarius coin, the standard pay for a full day’s work.

He badly wanted to leave with it, but he was a righteous man, and quietly approached the foreman.

But the foreman reassured him—there had been no mistake!

Oh, the joy he felt! For tonight and tomorrow, his family would not be hungry.

*  *  *  *  *

Was the landowner unfair in the treatment of his workers? At the beginning of the day, the Greek text says the landowner achieved ‘harmonious agreement’ with the labors regarding the usual daily wage. This was not fraud nor exploitation, but a just wage for an honest day’s work. Were the later workers been idle due to laziness? No, they honestly say, but “because no one has hired us.”

Let us revisit the landowner’s arguments in his own defense: he said to one of the grumblers in reply, “My friend, I am not cheating you. Did you not agree with me for the usual daily wage? Take what is yours and go. What if I wish to give this last one the same as you? Or am I not free to do as I wish with my own money? Are you envious because I am generous?” The landowner was not being unfair, he was being generous. He kept the precept of Leviticus, which ensured that poor laborers would not be deprived of their daily bread overnight, but he also kept the command which comes in Leviticus five verses later: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.”

Would the grumblers have been happier if the coins were taken back from the hands of all of the one hour workers? Yes, and no. For the envious person is not happy until everyone is unhappy like himself. And even then, he is still unhappy. What if the grumblers had had perfect hearts? Then they would have been concerned about those unchosen workers, as impoverished as themselves, that were left behind in the marketplace, and upon seeing those latecomers receive a full daily wage they would be happy and relieved for them. But these grumblers’ thoughts were not God’s thoughts, and their ways were not his ways.

Beware of envy. Envy is sadness at the sight of another’s blessings and the immoderate desire to acquire them for oneself. The Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches, when envy wishes grave harm to a neighbor, it is a mortal sin. St. Augustine rightly called envy “the diabolical sin,” for the book of Wisdom tells us that “by the envy of the devil, death entered the world.” St. Augustine observed, “From envy are born hatred, detraction, slander, joy caused by the misfortune of a neighbor, and displeasure caused by his prosperity.”

What is envy’s antidote or preventative vaccine? A good will towards all people, and rejoicing in their blessings and happiness as much as your own. Do you feel envious out of fear or resentment that there may not enough good things for you? Remember that the landowner in today’s parable, who ensures that his laborers receive their daily bread, represents God, who provides for the needs of those who serve him. As the psalmist says, “The Lord is near to all who call upon him.”

In Jesus’ parable, the landowner represents God, the laborers are those who faithfully serve him, and the equal pay they receive is salvation, eternal life, the reward of Heaven. Does this mean that all who serve God receive an equal reward? Once again, the answer is yes, and no. Each is given Heaven, but not all souls enjoy the same glory there. In our second reading, St. Paul says, “If I go on living in the flesh, that means fruitful labor for me.” He is not sure if he would rather live or die (“I do not know which I shall choose”) because death means peaceful rest with Christ, while more labor in life means a greater reward.

When St. Therese of Lisieux was a little girl, she was rather put out to learn that not all souls enjoy the same glory in heaven. For the young, fairness means simple sameness. Her older sister, Pauline, told her to fetch a thimble and her father’s water tumbler and to fill both of them to the top with water. Pauline then asked her which one was fuller. St. Therese saw that every soul in heaven is filled to its brim and can hold no more; each being full of God and completely happy. In Heaven, there is enough love, glory, and happiness for everyone, even if we grow and develop different capacities for these while on earth.

So who will have the largest capacity in Heaven? Who will hold the most glory? I believe, as Jesus says, “the last will be first, and the first will be last.” The greatest glory will not go to those who are focused on who is first and greatest, but to those interested in promoting in the greater glory of all.

God’s angels have different degrees of glory and power, yet they find delight in one another. They have labored for the Lord since the beginning of time, yet they rejoice that God has been generous with us latecomers and included us in his work. Let us be like our angels, who happily pray for us and aid us, so that we might attain a glory greater than their own. Let us pray that others might become holier than us, provided we become as holy as we ought.

The Seven Deadly Sins & Seven Lively Virtues

Pride is lowered by Humility

Envy is opposed by Admiration

Wrath is tamed by Forgiveness

Sloth is stopped by Zeal

Greed is relinquished by Generosity

Gluttony is moderated by Asceticism

Lust is controlled by Chastity

Which lively virtue will you focus on growing?

 

We Keep Only What We Have Given

By St. Basil the Great (330-379 AD)

You are going to leave your money behind you here whether you wish to or not. On the other band, you will take with you to the Lord the honor that you have won through good works. In the presence of the universal judge, all the people will surround you, acclaim you as a public benefactor, and tell of your generosity and kindness.

Do you not see how people throw away their wealth on theatrical performances, boxing contests, mimes and fights between men and wild beasts, which are sickening to see, and all for the sake of fleeting honor and popular applause? If you are miserly with your money, how can you expect any similar honor? Your reward for the right use of the things of this world will be everlasting glory, a crown of righteousness, and the kingdom of heaven; God will welcome you, the angels will praise you, all men who have existed since the world began will call you blessed. Do you care nothing for these things, and spurn the hopes that lie in the future for the sake of your present enjoyment. Come, distribute your wealth freely, give generously to those who are in need. Earn for yourself the psalmist’s praise: He gave freely to the poor; his righteousness will endure forever.

How grateful you should be to your own benefactor; how you should beam with joy at the honor of having other people come to your door, instead of being obliged to go to theirs! But you are now ill-humoured and unapproachable; you avoid meeting people, in case you might be forced to loosen your purse-strings even a little. You can say only one thing: “I have nothing to give you. I am only a poor man.” A poor man you certainly are, and destitute of all real riches; you are poor in love, generosity, faith in God and hope of eternal happiness.