A friend told me about his work in a senior center in the skid row section of San Francisco. He worried that the four day Thanksgiving holiday—when the center would be closed; it would be a hard time for some of the regulars.
On the Monday after Thanksgiving, anxious to know how things had gone he asked one of the men, “How was your Thanksgiving”? The man paused and then replied, “Everyday is Thanksgiving. I am alive!”
To the outside observer, this man might seem to have little cause for a grateful heart. He has no home of his own, no family to support and care for him, not even the assurance that he will have 3 meals a day. But he has learned the secret of a thankful heart; awareness of the basic gifts that often go unnoticed, especially life itself.
In contrast to this man, many of us, in the midst of plenty, focus on what we want or lack, rather than on all we have already been given. We take for granted such daily gifts, such as the ability to walk and run, to see, to speak and hear, and we think instead of the trip we wish we could afford or the computer we would like to own. Not until our present blessings are threatened that we begin to appreciate them. A few days of sickness, for example makes us keenly aware of what a gift a healthy body is. A death in the family makes us realize what we had and never properly celebrated.
Perhaps, we are like the young child who’s well meaning relatives shower him/her with so many presents for a birthday that he/she has no time to appreciate any single gift. The kid rushes from one package to the next and soon stand amid a pile of wrappings, toys and confusion. We too, may have filled our lives with many things, but have not taken time to hold them up one by one in their individual beauty and say thank you.
Thanksgiving Day offers us a chance to say some of these neglected thank you’s. It is a day to celebrate our gifts with thankful hearts, especially the blessings we seldom notice through the year; the breath of life, the refreshment of water, the sounds and color of the earth, the warmth of friendship.
I close with Mark’s Gospel;
Jesus tells the man who was healed to go and spread the news about the good things God has done for him.
We’ll take time to do that for a few minutes today in the ritual of Eucharist. Let us continue in the days to come to be grateful people in the everyday rituals of our lives.
Archive for November, 2010
Thanksgiving 11-25-2010
Thursday, November 25th, 2010Christ The King – Deacon Patrick Conway 11-21-2010
Sunday, November 21st, 2010A rich man died and found himself outside the gates of Heaven. He rang the bell and St. Peter came. “Can I help you?” said St. Peter. “Well, I’d like to come in, of course,” the man answered. St. Peter looked him over and said, “Why should I let you in?” The rich man looked surprised and a little annoyed. He was used to a little more respect. He had been a very rich man and, on earth at least, people respect someone with a lot of money.
But he remembered that he wasn’t on earth anymore, and that things might be different here. St. Peter didn’t seem to know who he was. The rich man realized that he’d have to explain to St. Peter all the wonderful things he had done on earth, but he’d have to be as humble about it as he could. St. Peter didn’t look like he’d be easily impressed, and why should he be? The gates of Heaven alone were more splendid and magnificent than anything that the rich man had ever seen on earth. He was humbled by their beauty.
So, mustering up all the humility he could, the rich man said, “Well, St. Peter, I was one of the wealthiest men on earth in my day. But I worked hard for it. I started out with nothing and was very successful. I mean, God really blessed me, and I was so grateful. I had so much more than I needed, so I gave most of it away – millions and millions to all kinds of charities. I received all kinds of awards on earth for my generosity.”
“Well,” said St. Peter, “is that all?” “What do you mean, ‘Is that all’? Isn’t that enough?” the rich man sputtered.
“No, I’m afraid not,” said St. Peter. The rich man was stunned, speechless. St. Peter looked at him sympathetically and said, “I tell you what. There’s a very nice park over there, see? It has the big sign that says “Purgatory.” You can go over there and wait. Stay as long as you like. And maybe you’ll think of some reason why I should let you into Heaven.”
Next, a woman rang the bell at Heaven’s gate. St. Peter answered, “Can I help you?” “Oh! St. Peter! I can’t believe it’s really you! I’ve heard so much about you all my life. I can’t believe I’m finally getting to meet you!”
St. Peter was used to this. He sighed and said, “Yes, nice to meet you too. Now, can I help you?” The woman looked puzzled and said, “Why, I’d like to come in, of course!” “Why should I let you in?” St. Peter asked. The woman looked shocked. Didn’t St. Peter know that she was a practicing Catholic? “Well,” the woman stammered, “I went to mass every day, and prayed the Rosary too. I did my best to live a holy life.”
“Well,” said St. Peter, “is that all?” “What do you mean, ‘is that all?’ Isn’t that enough?” the woman asked, feeling faint.
“No, I’m afraid not,” said St. Peter. The woman was sure she was going to pass out. St. Peter looked at her sympathetically and said, “I tell you what. There’s a very nice park over there, see? It has the big sign that says “Purgatory.” You can go over there and wait. Stay as long as you like. Try to remember your catechism, and maybe you’ll think of some other reason why I should let you into Heaven.”
Finally, a third person approached the gates of Heaven, a young man. He just stood there for a long time, looking at those magnificent gates. He shook his head in amazement. He couldn’t believe he was here! He felt it would be enough just to stand there forever. In his heart there was a deep, deep joy, like nothing he’d ever felt in his life. Finally, he reached out and rang the bell.
St. Peter appeared and said, “Can I help you?” “Oh, uh, yes sir,” the young man stammered. He didn’t know who St. Peter was, you see. He hadn’t been a practicing Catholic, hadn’t even been a Christian, hadn’t ever opened a Bible. “Uh, is this really Paradise?” the young man asked. “Yes it is, the entrance, anyway.” “Wow!” said the young man, “I can’t believe I’m really here!” He just stood there, looking amazed. “Well,” said St. Peter, “would you like to come in?” “Well, uh, I don’t know, I mean, of course I would? Could I?” the young man asked timidly.
“Well,” St. Peter said, “that depends.” “Oh,” said the young man, casting his eyes down, “On what?” afraid of the answer he might hear. “Why should I let you in?” said St. Peter. “Oh, uh, well, I don’t know. I never really did much of anything – good, that is. In fact, I was kind of a bad guy on earth. It started out when I was a kid, stealing and lying. Then when I was a teenager, I got a gun and started robbing people and stores. Nothing major, but still…. Then, a few years ago, I got high on drugs and robbed a liquor store. When the owner went to reach under the counter for something, I panicked and shot him – dead. I ran, but eventually they caught me and put me in jail. I was condemned to die and, after several years on death row, I was executed.”
St. Peter whistled softly. “That is pretty bad, pretty bad indeed.” The young man’s face burned red with shame and remorse. “I know,” he said, “so maybe you shouldn’t let me in. I certainly don’t deserve it.” St. Peter eyed him curiously. “So how did you make it to heaven’s gate?” The young man’s face brightened and he said, “The night before I was executed I was terrified. For the first time in my life I got down on my knees and prayed. I didn’t know how to pray so I just called out, ‘God, help me!’ And you may not believe this, but all of a sudden my cell got bright with light, and there stood Jesus! He hugged me and I just cried like a baby in his arms. I told him how sorry I was for all the bad things I’d done, and that I knew I deserved to die, but that I was so afraid. He forgave me and told me that he loved me and had died on the cross for all my sins. And then he said to me words that I’ll never forget: ‘Tomorrow you’ll be with me in Paradise.’ Sir, I tell you, I clung to those words like a lifejacket. They got me through that terrible night and the next morning. And now, here I am! I can hardly believe it! So, sir, I can’t think of any reason that you should let me in, but I’d be happy just to stand here forever!”
Then the young man’s face grew pensive, and he looked at St. Peter and said, “Sir, like I said, I know I don’t deserve to come in, but I was wondering if you could do me a favor?” “What is it, son?” St. Peter said, trying to hold back tears. “Well, I know I can’t stay, but I would like to just go in and see Jesus, just long enough to tell him that I love him and thank him for what he did for me. Then I’ll come right back out. I promise.”
St. Peter remembered a night, long, long ago, when he had made a promise, a promise he had been too cowardly to keep. He pulled a golden card out of his pocket and handed it to the young man. “Sure,” he said, you can come in. Here, take this pass with you, and if anyone stops you, you just show it to them and they’ll let you go.” “Oh, thank you! Thank you, sir!” the young man exclaimed. “I promise, I’ll be right back.” “Oh,” said St. Peter, “No hurry. Take your time.”
St. Peter opened the gates and the young man came in side and hurried off into the heavenly city to find Jesus. As he made his way, he thought he’d better stop and ask an angel for directions. He pulled out his pass to show the angel and saw what was written on it: “Welcome home, son! Welcome home forever!”
Now, am I saying that a wealthy, generous man or a virtuous, practicing Catholic won’t get into heaven? Of course not! We should all be so generous and virtuous. What I am saying is that it’s not our virtues or our good deeds that get us into heaven. But, on the other hand, sin can’t keep us out.
So how do we get into heaven? Our Gospel today shows us. Two criminals, justly condemned to death for their crimes, equal in their guilt. One curses God, and the other asks God for mercy – and gets it: “Today you will be with me in Paradise.”
Like the repentant criminal, we have to face our sin, take responsibility for it, accept our punishment, and ask Jesus for mercy. Then we have to trust in his promise: “Today you will be with me in Paradise.” Because if Jesus promised Paradise to a bad guy who was being executed, how much more does he promise it to the rest of us?
It has always been the intuition of the Church that we are saved by faith, not by works, faith in Jesus. And having faith in Jesus means believing in him, like the repentant criminal. The faith of this criminal is amazing! Here he is, hanging on a cross next to a bloodied and crucified Jesus that no one else seemed to believe in, and this man, in spite of everything he’s seeing and hearing, believes that Jesus is indeed a powerful king with an eternal kingdom, and even death can’t defeat him.
Like that criminal, we have to have faith in Jesus and in his promise. Let us turn to him in humility and gratitude, putting all our hope and trust in him, and not in our own righteousness. For today we proclaim that he is the all-powerful King of the Universe, more powerful than sin and death. He is the Lamb of God who takes away our sins and prepares a place for us with him in Paradise forever.
Count On It 11-14-2010
Sunday, November 14th, 2010One night in 1983, over 100 million television viewers saw the movie The Day After. Filmed in Lawrence, Kansas, it portrayed what that city would be like after a nuclear attack.
Just before the film began, a warning flashed on the screen, saying, “Because of graphic portrayal of nuclear war, this film may be unsuitable for children. Parental discretion is advised.”
The warning was well given. For during the next 128 minutes, the movie showed shocking scenes of death and destruction. The script, too, was shocking and disturbing. It made us realize that the possibility of a nuclear attack was greater than we had ever imagined.
The words and images of today’s gospel are reminiscent of the words and images of that film.
Jesus portrays for us, graphically, the destruction of Jerusalem and the Temple. For Jews, the destruction of these two things was equivalent to the end of the world.
Precisely for this reason, the Church uses this gospel passage as one of its readings for the end of the liturgical year. It wants us to reflect on the end of the world.
It wants us to reflect on that moment when the world, as we know it, will pass away.
It wants us to ask ourselves, “How prepared will we be for that moment when it comes?”
A few stories to help us reflect…
John was a building contractor for a construction company. His specialty was large luxury homes.
To increase his income, John routinely cheated on the materials that went into the homes. He was so clever at concealing these shortcuts that he joked to a close friend that even he couldn’t detect his own shortcuts.
Sometimes his cheating reached such a proportion that the homeowners were in fairly serious danger because of the under constructed electrical systems and the like.
The building contractor’s shortcuts were especially dangerous in the final home he built. Even he worried about some of the things he did in that home.
You can imagine his utter consternation, therefore, when the company gave the contractor this home as a retirement gift. It would be the home in which he and his wife would spend the rest of their years.
How is this story a parable of life? What corners are we cutting in our life, figuring nobody will be the wiser for it? Speak to God about the shortcuts in our life.
In April 1987, Hall of Famer Mickey Mantle was returning by plane to his home in Dallas. Suddenly he began to sweat and have difficulty breathing. The thought flashed into his mind: “I’m having a heart attack!” He summoned a flight attendant and was given oxygen. When the plane landed, he was rushed to a hospital.
Later, Mantle told an Associated Press correspondent about a dream he had while he was in the hospital.
“I dreamed I died and went to heaven. Saint Peter greeted me. I said, ‘I’m Mickey Mantle.’ He said, ‘Really? Come in, God wants to see you.’
“I went to see God, and he said, ‘We can’t keep you here because of the way you acted. But do me a favor and sign six dozen baseballs.’”
When the humor of Mantle’s dream subsides, truth emerges: No one will escape God’s judgment, and no one will get VIP treatment in that judgment.
What frightens us most about standing before God in judgment? Speak to God about this fear, and ask God how we can overcome it.
I would like to close with these few words, think of them when you start worrying too much about anything. Especially about when the end of the world might happen.
If God were to drop us a postcard today, I think he might write, “My dear sons and daughters I love you in Jesus more than you can ever know. Through the human nature of my son I share all of your life with you – even the sickness and failure and pain, even the final cross and the knowledge of death. Not all, or even many, of the crosses you will put up with in life are of my making. Believe me, I grieve over them just as much as you do. But in the midst of it all, I will be there. I will be there with you. I will be there for you. And a relationship will be forged between us that earth and time and heaven and hell will never be able to break. I love you. True, bad things are bound to happen – but never the worst. I will always have you, and you will always have me. Count on it!”
