This One Got Me

When it's my turn to give the homily, I usually cannot help but take the scripture passage to heart. Sometimes, though, the experience is even stronger than that -- I KNOW that Jesus is speaking directly to me. Praying with this gospel was one of those times.

26th Sunday of Ordinary Time (A)

Today’s parable begins a section of Matthew’s gospel in which Jesus has a series of confrontations with the religious authorities in Jerusalem. Now I’m not going to go into all the ins and outs of that section today, but I would just urge you to read chapters 21, 22, and 23 of Matthew. We’ll be reading from that section through the end of October, and these five weeks will really fit for you if you read them as a whole. Today’s first passage is unique to Matthew, and through it Jesus teaches a message similar to the one we hear in our first reading from Ezekiel: if you turn from sin and convert to the Lord and the Lord’s ways, you will have life.

The two sons in the parable represent two different groups within Israel. The first symbolizes the religious outcasts, the prostitutes, and tax collectors. Obviously, they had made some bad choices, and their actions had placed themselves outside of the law; but through John the Baptist they sought repentance and then followed Jesus. The second corresponds to the religious leaders who built their life and reputation on knowing and professing the law. But they questioned John’s teaching and did not follow him, just as they now question Jesus’ authority. And so it was the outcasts and sinners who actually did the Father’s will and so found Life, while the religious leaders who professed their righteousness were the ones who remained mired in sin and Death.

I find readings like this very difficult. Do you remember the story of the man born blind? Jesus healed that man, remember, but then religious authorities questioned the poor man and eventually threw him out. Finally, at the end, Jesus finds him – and then makes the declaration, “I came into this world for judgment, so that those who do not see might see, and those who do see might become blind.” And he finally tells the Pharisees, “If you were blind, you would have no sin, but now you are saying, ‘We see,’ so your sin remains.”

These gospels are hard for me. They are written about Jesus’ confrontations with the Pharisees, the chief priests and the elders, but they are not only about the Pharisees; they are not only about the sins of the chief priests or elders. I think they should be hard for all of us here today, but you alone can know what it says to you. But I know they are hard for me.

If we are God’s children, and God asks us to love our neighbors as ourselves, and we live in comfort when we see his other children hungry or homeless or sick or desperate or on the run, does God think we are doing what he has asked us to do? Or when our brother Jesus time and time again reaches out to lepers and foreigners and public sinners, and then asks us to follow him, and we do our best to improve our own standing in the world, and deliberately seek places to live and work where we won’t ever have to encounter the very ones he spent so much time with, does Jesus say to us, “Well done, good and faithful servant”? Or will Jesus say to us, “Amen, the tax collectors and prostitutes are entering the kingdom of God before you”?

What this gospel tells me is that I had better be on the side of the prostitutes, the lowly ones, the shady people who know their life is broken but who want to be healed, who long for wholeness though they can hardly allow themselves to hope for it. I had better be close to the alcoholic who knows his life has spilled down the drain, but who wants to be free of his chains. I had better be the friend of the young runaway who was abused by her stepfather, who needs shelter & a hot meal, who deserves to know real love and compassion. I had better understand the desperation of the jobless man who can’t find a lasting job to feed his children and feels he’s no good to anyone anymore. This gospel tells me that when I go down to Children’s Hospital to stand with suffering children or grieving parents whose broken hearts reach for God, that I had better know that their sorrow places them closer to God than I am, so that I know what a gift they give me when they allow me to be part of their lives.

My life is easy, but I want to follow Jesus. I want my hands to be his hands in caring for the lost and forgotten, because that’s what his hands did. I want my eyes to be his eyes in searching for those who live in darkness, because his eyes were able to find them. I want my voice to be his voice to all I meet, because his words could be so tender and kind and yet so searingly direct and honest. I want my heart to love as he loved, because his heart reached out to everyone, even in forgiving those who drove nails through his hands and a sword in his side.

My life is easy, but I want to follow Jesus; and I tell you, this gospel makes me restless. And so I long for our Eucharist today – to remember once again how he gave himself for us and how he gives himself to us even now. I know I need his courage and consolation and strength in order to follow the path he calls me to follow. I think we all do.

Denny Duffell
September 25, 2011

Another Miracle

Every year at this time, St. Bridget runs its annual Elephant Stampede, for the people of Namitembo in Malawi, Africa. It's really a picnic, and we stage a 5K run/walk, with the proceeds to go to our friends in Namitembo.

Last year it rained mercilessly all Saturday night, before the day of the race. I woke up during the downpour, and couldn't sleep the rest of the night. It continued raining -- hard -- all during the Sunday morning 8:30 a.m. Mass. And then...miraculously, not only did the rain stop, but the sun came out during the 10:30 a.m. Mass, and the event went on as planned! We were all amazed, and of course delighted.

This year was almost a repeat performance! All week long the weather forecast was showing rain for Sunday, the day of the event. It started raining during the night on Saturday -- hard. Again, I woke up during the rain, and couldn't go back to sleep. I finally got up around 7:00 a.m.... and a few minutes later, the rain slowed, and stopped. The wind was still blowing during the 10:30 a.m. Mass, but around 11:00 you could see breaks in the clouds, with the sun shining every once in a while. By noon, the winds also calmed down, and by the time the siren blew, we had a lovely fall day in Seattle, just perfect for a picnic.

I don't know how much we raised as of yet, but I'm confident we raised enough to fund the operations of the Trade School for another year. Halleluia!

Nine-Eleven at the Neighbor's

Today is September 11th, the ten-year anniversary of the attack on the Twin Towers and the Pentagon. It's only a coincidence that I was preaching at our neighboring parish of Assumption. The pastor, Fr. Oliver, had graciously invited me to speak at all the Masses, in order to say a few words about JustFaith, which is a program I hope to offer in the mornings near the elementary school we share, Assumption-St. Bridget.

The readings were exquisite -- you could hardly have chosen better readings for this date. At the first Mass I made the mistake of getting unnecessarily detailed about the program. Well, no one's perfect! I hope I successfully corrected that in the version below.

Just as an aside... there are a LOT of good things on-line right now, posted because of this anniversary. There is also a lot of mush. (Sorry to be so blunt.)


24th Sunday Ordinary Time, A
10th Anniversary of Nine-Eleven

Good morning. It is a privilege and a pleasure to be with you on this absolutely beautiful morning. It was nice to see everyone so pleasant and welcoming as they came to Mass this morning. For those of you who don’t know me, I’m the deacon over at your neighboring parish of St. Bridget. I’m also a chaplain over at Seattle Children’s Hospital, and I’ve been in both places for 28 years now.

Fr. Oliver was kind enough to allow me to spend a few minutes with you today, both to reflect upon the scriptures and also to share with you something that has been going on for the last few years within some of your neighboring parishes. But before that, I know that we’re very aware that today is the 10th anniversary of the terrorist attacks on our country. We remember today all the innocent victims of that attack: those who died when the towers collapsed, those who died at the Pentagon, and all the passengers in those four planes. And we remember also the selfless courage and heroism of so many people who risked their own lives trying to save others. Our hearts were united with them all then, as were the hearts of so many people around the world.

It is right for us to remember them! And it is important to ponder what our faith might have to say on this occasion, just as it is always valuable to reflect about what our faith has to say about the important issues of our times. However, that reflection might turn bittersweet. For just as we remember the victims and the heroes of that day, none of us can forget either that one short month after that attack, while our own country was still in mourning, our United States military forces invaded Afghanistan, and not long afterwards, Iraq. And today, ten years later, our military forces are still heavily involved in both countries.

Today’s First Reading and Gospel almost seem to have been deliberately chosen for this day. From the book of Sirach we hear, “Wrath and anger are hateful things”; “The vengeful will suffer the Lord’s vengeance”; and “Hate not your neighbor.” And then of course, in our gospel Jesus tells us a dramatic story about forgiveness, in order to demonstrate that we are to forgive others because we have been forgiven for so much. These scriptures are the voice of God speaking to us, and that voice in today’s scriptures seems clear and strong! Do we ignore it? Do we qualify it and explain it away? Or do we hear it and heed it? And, if we really want to hear it and heed it, just how do we do that, especially when facing painful and complicated realities like terrorism and war?

It just happens that the anniversary of 9-11 coincides with these scriptures today; but other scriptures speak God’s voice forcefully in ways that can be applied to many other issues in modern life. Over the centuries our Church has accumulated and developed a body of teaching based on the scriptures and our efforts to live them out. The body of teaching to which I refer is our Catholic Social Teaching, and the principles of social justice and peace. These teachings motivate us to respond to the needs of the sick and the aged, the poor and vulnerable, those who are in need or in trouble. These principles call us to be a people who hunger and thirst for justice, and they call us to speak up for those lowly ones who have no voice.

But these matters can get … sticky! Talking about a need for immigration reform, for instance, might get you into an argument. Saying that all people have a right to health care might immediately label you one way or another. To ask questions about the size of our military forces or our nuclear arsenal might get you branded as soft or unpatriotic. The same tensions arise if the subject is the federal budget and taxes, or the growing gap between the very wealthy and the very poor. And there are some questions so hot or personal that we don’t feel safe talking about them at all – racism, for example. Justice can often be controversial, and it takes courage not to just go along with what everyone else thinks.

And yet, in all of these questions and more, our Catholic teachings DO have something very wise to say. Don’t you think that people of good will really DO care about what our faith has to say about real issues in the world around us? ... and that they will then want to act on our faith in constructive, realistic ways, without a lot of rhetoric? I KNOW it is possible! But a major difficulty is that most of us know far too little about our own teachings and traditions on social justice and peace.

For me, three years ago I made a commitment with a few other people to be a part of a program called JustFaith. This program was started several years ago in a Catholic parish in Tennesee, and as it grew it found its way to the Seattle Archdiocese, about 6 or 7 years ago. JustFaith is a program designed to learn, discuss, experience, and pray about our Church’s social teachings. Quite simply, I think it’s the best parish program I have ever seen-- and I know that it’s not possible for every person here to be a part of this program, but I wish it were! There are several parishes in the archdiocese who have sponsored this program – a few of them in Northeast Seattle. There are small groups starting later this month, one on Wednesday mornings right over at Mary House, on the other side of the school – and if there are parishioners who might consider accepting the invitation to explore this, there is more information in the back of church.

But I know most of you can’t sign up for this, so I would ask you ALL to PRAY for justice and peace. And pray for the success of this effort. And one thing more … I invite you, I urge you, to pay careful attention to our Church teachings on social justice and peace, especially over the next 14 months. The God who speaks to us today in Sirach has warned us about wrath, anger, and vengeance on the anniversary of 9-11. The Jesus Christ who speaks to us in today’s gospel warns us to forgive others or else we ourselves might not find forgiveness. And I am certain that our God has a lot MORE to say to us, especially as our country considers so many social issues over the next 14 months, as we prepare for the next round of elections.

May God bless you all, and thank you for your kind attention this morning.

Deacon Denny Duffell
Given at Assumption Parish, 9/11/11

Another Kind of Debt

Yesterday's homily put me through something of a personal wringer. First of all, the readings for the 23rd Ordinary Sunday for Matthew were excellent. The first Reading's passage, from Ezekiel, speaks about being at "watchman" for others...that we have an obligation to warn others who are about to do wrong. I DO think we have that obligation, and it would have been an opportunity to speak about the prophetic voice, especially FOR the poor and AGAINST war & the preparation for war. The Gospel reading is a great passage too, about reconciliation -- not just forgiveness, but healing the rift between people. It also fits very well with next Sunday's Gospel.

But the reading itself, from Paul's letter to the Romans, hooked me at the first word: DEBT. As I say up front in the homily, I absolutely hate debt, and I really don't like being indebted, whether impersonally to a bank or personally to someone else. To a certain extent, I don't think that's always good ... and that might sometime be a good topic for another blog, or homily.

Here's the homily...

23rd Sunday of Ordinary Time (A), 2011
All three readings this morning are really excellent, and they’re all very easy to reflect on. But oddly enough it was the second reading which hooked me, because it starts out by talking about something I really hate: DEBT! Anyone in my family will tell you that I really hate debt. I do know what it is to be in debt, as most of us here today do. We may have a mortgage on the house, a note against the car, a Visa bill or student loans – and let’s not get started on the national debt.

But if these were not enough, our reading from Romans today reminds us of another debt, a different kind of debt, one we should be able to accept because it has the power to lift and enrich life. St. Paul calls it our debt of love: “Owe nothing to anyone, EXCEPT to love one another.” He then uses words that are very familiar, first from the Ten Commandments and then from Jesus’ words from the two great commandments, of to loving God and loving our neighbor as ourselves. But what is different in this context is that Paul is talking about love as something we owe -- and that’s why I would like to focus on it today, because we might not always think of love that way.

I think the first thing I would like to point out is that the actual words used by both Jesus and St. Paul are: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” As yourself! In other words, love is first of all something that we owe OURSELVES.

Now, that’s not a new idea. Our culture gives us that message all the time, but it’s not usually the first message we find in church. In fact, just last week our gospel reminded us that following Jesus meant we should deny ourselves, and take up our cross. But the messages do not contradict one another. Loving ourselves does not mean loving ONLY ourselves, or PAMPERING ourselves, or making ourselves the FOCUS of everything. But it does mean we need to love ourselves, to treat ourselves with respect. The truth is that it is very difficult to have a solid relationship with others unless we also come to terms with ourselves.

There may be many people we might find to be unpleasant, but most of them we can manage to avoid. Sometimes we might want get away from our family, so we go to work. Or our boss is difficult, so we can’t wait to go home. Sometimes we’re so glad to send our children off to school – wow, a bit more space in our lives! – and believe me, sometime they’re glad to go, to get away from us! We can love to go away on vacation, to get away from EVERYONE. But there is one person in this world that we can never escape, one person we will have to live with throughout the darkest hours of the night and longest eon of eternity. Go to work, go to school, go on vacation, go to bed… that person will be there, because that one person is our self. Doesn’t it just make sense for us to become the kind of person and build the kind of life that we can respect and admire and enjoy being around? If we don’t, we might fool a lot of people – but we cheat ourselves.

I heard a story one time about a man who was a construction foreman for a wealthy financier. The financier furnished the money, the foreman furnished the know-how, and together they were in the building business. One day the financier called the foreman into his office. He explained that he would be out of the city for a while and that while he was gone he wanted a house built, a really good house. He said, “Here are the plans, and I have deposited in the local bank under your signature the amount needed to build the house.” The foreman took the plans, left the office, and began to think. He said, “This is an opportunity. I know the business. I can trim some corners, save some money, and put it in my pocket, and no one will be the wiser.”

So he made up his mind, and that is what he did. When he poured the foundation, he used the cheapest labor and the cheapest materials. When he put in the plumbing, the wiring, the roof – he used the cheapest labor and cheapest materials. He cut corners everywhere, and when he had finished, he had cut the cost over a third, almost in half – and then he put that sum in his pocket and said, “No one will know.” And his boss came home; together they went to view the house. And after a few moments, the financier said, “I didn’t tell you this before you left, because I wanted it to be a surprise. You’ve served me long and well, and I want to show my appreciation." He gave the builder a key, and he said, “Here, this is YOUR house. You have built it, and now it’s your to live in.” And in the months ahead, that poorly constructed house mocked him and laughed at him, and said, “You only cheated yourself.”

You and I are both in the building business. And if we build our lives out of cheap and shabby materials, one day an empty hull of a life will look at us from the mirror and mock us, and say “You cheated yourself.” This is what the debt of love means when it says that we must first love ourselves. We must make ourselves temples for the Holy Spirit to live within!

Now there is of course a second part of the debt that St. Paul is talking about: to love our neighbor as we love ourselves. For most of us that is a sizeable order. It can be so easy for us to be wrapped up in what’s going on in our own lives that we have too little time left to go outside ourselves. I’m told that even when we retire, the hours and days can get filled up so fast just with all our own “stuff.” So…why? Why should we really care about anyone outside ourselves, or our own immediate circle?

Now I know we’re here in church, and we share a faith that provides us ways to answer that question. But our reading from Paul today invites us to think about love as a debt…

So let me ask: how many things do we enjoy today because someone else has made a contribution to our lives? Is there any one of us who can stand up and honestly say, “This is my life; I hold a clear title; I don’t owe anything to anybody”? It is not just that God has created us and loves us and sustains us and we could never repay that. A little honest reflection will tell us more: across the years there are hundreds of others, no, it’s more like thousands, people who have taken a little or a lot of themselves and invested it in us. We are who we are because other people have cared enough and given enough to help us along the way, and any achievement that is ours in life is NOT ours alone. We are living composites of the contributions of family and friends and neighbors and teachers and a thousand other people, some whose names we will never know. There’s no way to repay that debt … but we can perhaps hope to “return the interest on that debt” – by loving God and loving others as we ourselves have been loved.

Well, it’s a lovely morning, sunny but cool, so I will just end today by inviting us all to call to mind during our Eucharist those who love us, and all that has been given to us in love.

Deacon Denny Duffell
September 4, 2011