Father Greg

Coffee vs. Great Coffee

A homily for the 28th Sunday in Ordinary time

One the weekend, we had a mission appeal speaker, a priest from Colombia was going to speak at all the masses, raise money for his mission in Colombia, spoke good English. He gets up on Saturday morning, comes in the kitchen. I just made coffee and he grabs a mug, grabs the pot, pours a cup of coffee, takes one sip, walks over to the kitchen sink and throws it in and looks at me and says, You Americans never roast your coffee enough.

So what he did is he took the kitchen out of the cupboard. A can of, Maxwell House and I like the coffee. And he put it like in a frying pan. Just poured it right in a frying pan, put it on the stove using a spatula. Turned it over quickly to finish roasting it. The whole kitchen smelled like coffee.

And then while still hot he put it in the basket and brewed another pot of coffee.

Handed me a cup.

Boy, was it good. Excellent coffee. Same coffee I’ve been drinking, but it had been transformed to an extraordinary cup of coffee. In today’s gospel, the rich young man comes to Jesus and says, what must I do? And Jesus says, everything you’re doing is great and looks at him with love.

But says one thing more. Sell everything you have, give to the poor, and come follow me. And the guy leaves dejected. It’s like Jesus said everything you’re doing, it’s a great cup of coffee, but we can really make this really good coffee by just doing this one more thing. That’s what he’s offering. He’s not saying, well, this is the key to heaven, or this is the key to my heart.

It says, no, you’re living a rich life now, but you could even be richer. It can be darker, it can be, wholesome. It can be blacker, like black coffee. Really good. It’s what he’s offering and offers us. Saint Teresa of Avila, a great saint says, “how can we share our gifts lavishly if we do not understand that we are rich?”

She understands we’re rich. But she’ll add the great line right after that. But all we understand is ready cash. That’s what Jesus is saying. Look deeply. Live deeply. Live more richly. Live this life in its fullness. And all it takes is open heart, open generosity, open lives. Do what he asks. And this life, this life will be lavish and rich.

That’s what today’s gospel is all about. Let’s enjoy a cup of coffee.

What Poisons Everything?

A homily for the 27th Sunday in Ordinary Time

A few years ago, I was teaching at one of our high schools, and at the end of the academic year, they had an appreciation cocktail party for the big donors to the school. And because I was on the faculty and I was a priest, I was invited. During the cocktail party, I noticed that all the men there, all of them were over the age of 70, except for me and all the women there were under the age of 35.

And I’m thinking something is wrong. And when these men would introduce their wives, they would say things like, oh, let me introduce my beautiful wife. Does she have a name? If this is what happened to your first wives, I’m sure they didn’t all marry only first time late in life. I think what they were doing is divorcing their wives as they get older.

Less attractive, less alluring. To get a trophy wife. This is exactly what Jesus is decrying in today’s gospel when he has these prohibitions, prescriptions on divorce. It’s not prescriptions on divorce. It’s treating people like trophies instead of love. Love should be the motivator, not a trophy. And it works the other way around too. I’m sure women, if they have the wherewithal, will discard their less than attractive, aging husband for a hunky new model.

But this is not love. This is egoism, run amuck. And that’s what Jesus is decrying. Egoism run amok. Ego is shallow. It’s about me. What’s mine? Look at me. I want my way. I want everything like I want it. Egoism. Not love. The world. Oftentimes, especially younger people. I’ve heard this time and time again. Religion poisons everything. I’d say contrary.

Contrary. Religion heals what’s gone wrong? Egoism. Egoism poisons everything. That’s what this gospel’s about. Egoism run amuck and just divorcing for a trophy. You know, disrupting lives. Egoism. Religion means to realign or reconnect religion. What religion is trying to do is correct what egoism has poisoned. Saint Teresa of Avila says, “if there is no progress in humility, everything is going to be doomed.”

What she means by humility is just the opposite of egoism. Oh, to take in mind the other. What are they feeling? How are they acting? Humility. True humility is not a doormat. True humility is love. And I think that’s what Jesus is asking of all his disciples. Not egoism, that shouldn’t be running your life. Love should be running your life.

That’s the call of today’s gospel.

Weight-Loss Program

A homily for the 26th Sunday in Ordinary Time

I’ve always been a jogger, and a few years ago, quite a few years ago, I decided, let me see if I can do a marathon, get in shape for a marathon. Well, if you’re going to condition yourself for a marathon, that means, like, lose a lot of weight. I had to lose a lot of weight because I, the more weight you carry, the harder it is.

And so I had to shed quite a few pounds to get in shape. That’s my interpretation of today’s gospel, where Jesus says, if your hand causes you to sin, cut it off, or if your eye causes you to sin, pluck it out. It’s not because sin is the, sinlessness is the goal. No, it’s marathon is the goal. It’s to be conditioned to do this marathon of love.

You know, love God with all your heart, soul, mind and body and love your neighbor as yourself. This is what were to be conditioned for. Life is not about remaining sinless and whammo! The door opens to heaven. No, life is about love. And whammo, love opens the door to heaven. Not sinlessness, but it gets worse because I was now watching what I was eating and I was being careful about what I ate.

I became fastidious and people, my sisters especially said, you know, Greg, you’ve become like a self-righteous diet nazi who is watching what people are eating. Because I had a watch. And that’s kind of what this is about. This is, you know, pull off that nazi stuff we do to each other criticizing or nitpicking or judging or avoiding. You know, this is the stuff we’re to be plucking out of our lives so that we can run this marathon of love.

Saint Teresa of Avila, great saint, says; “all who follow Christ, if they don’t want to get lost, must walk along the path he trod’. He was on the marathon path, and he asks us to be on the marathon path. To just love and love and love again. And fired with love within. To love and love again. That line also comes from Saint Teresa of Avila.

More Awarenesses

A homily for the 25th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Back when I was in the seminary, the seminary had a big renovation and everything was put in storage. Pictures, paintings, statues, furniture. Lamps. Everything. When it was done, the prior asked me if I could put all that stuff back. So I’m walking around, oh the cross would look good here at the painting would look good here, the statue would look good here, the lamp would look good there.

And I was kind of happy with my work. A bunch of Franciscans came to see the newly renovated building. Some the prior asked me to take them around. And I’m showing them all the work I had done. I put the crucifix here. I put the statue there. I put this painting here. I put this lamp there.

And the prior of that community interrupted to say. Did anybody work on this project but you? It’s sounded that bed. It was all about me and giving attention to me and all of every. That’s what ego does. Ego is about me, mine. I look at me, all eyes on me. Give me the attention. But it really is.

You don’t see much when you’re controlled by ego. Because all you’re looking at is yourself. And I think that’s my interpretation of today’s gospel when Jesus says, if you will put yourself first, which is ego, edo, ego, me, mine, mine. You’re not going to see much. You’re going to be the last because you miss so much, because your eyes are only on you.

If you put yourself last, which means put your ego down, step aside. You’ll see more. You’ll connect more you’ll relate more. You’ll have a broader awareness, broader perspective. When you put yourself last, you become more of the first. Teresa of Avila says, May the Lord be praised, who freed me from myself? I think what she’s saying is the same thing.

Freed from myself means freed from me. I, my, freed from my ego. Or at least it’s not as much controlling so that I can connect to you, to God, to nature, to life, to others. To be more aware. To be more connected. That’s what today’s gospel and Teresa of Avila are about.

Checklist

A homily for the 24th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Earlier this week, we commemorated 9/11. That brought to mind a letter I had received from a woman I knew, Charlotte, who worked in one of the twin Towers. She’d gotten to work that day and thought, I’ve never had coffee with my niece or my nephew who work in the other tower. So she called them and said, you know, we’ve never had coffee. Let’s meet for coffee. They said, great idea. So they all met in the plaza between the two towers, just as the first plane hit. And they ran. And in the letter, she is talking about, like, survivor’s guilt. Why did she survive? Her niece and nephew survived when so many died. So I thought a while and wrote, you know, we, none of us survive forever.

Life is not about living immortality here. We have purpose. We have agenda. God has agenda for us. And I think when we don’t have that done, God extends or God takes care of us. There were a lot of people who surprisingly didn’t die that day for varieties of reasons, weren’t in the office that day.

And I kind of think maybe we do have purpose. And so that’s what I wrote back and said, you had purpose. You will die one day, but not that day, because you have still a mission to complete. In today’s gospel, Jesus is talking about mission. He asks the disciples, who do they say that I am? And Peter says, well, you are the Christ.

That’s his mission. And then he says, Peter, you are rock. But then Peter says, no, no, no, no, no. But I don’t want that to be your mission. I don’t want you to die. And so he says the famous line, get behind me, Satan. It’s not Satan, the devil. It’s a word that just means adversary or opponent in this case.

Get behind me, opponent. You don’t see the bigger picture. So I think that’s the call of today’s gospel to see the bigger picture, to see what does God want you? What does God want me? What does God want us to do? And that’s our mission. Now I have your homework for you. Google this. Cardinal Newman, wrote a prayer, great prayer called “Mission of My Life”.

Look that prayer up. it’ll say a lot.

Open for Filling

In the baptismal right after the baby or the adult is baptized, then their ear is touched, their lips are touched, and the priest or the deacon says, Ephphatha, be opened. And what does that do? Why is that part of the baptismal right? This be opened? In today’s gospel, the deaf man is given this same right, the same word by Jesus, Ephphatha, be opened.

What does it do? And in the gospel his ears would be opened. His tongue would be opened. So he could talk. But I think in the baptismal right, it’s that our heart is open, our mind is open, our soul is open so that we can receive grace, we can receive love. We can receive the Holy Spirit. We can receive of God’s plenitude that the heart is open.

But what closes the heart? I think what closes the heart is me, my ego. You know, my stubbornness or my selfishness or my self-righteousness, all this stuff. But this is the way it’s supposed to be here. This is the way it should be, or this is the way I wanted. These are the things that occlude the heart. Close off the heart, block the heart.

And so I think this Ephphatha is for a lifetime of opening the heart more and more to receive everything from God. So that’s why in the baptismal right as water is poured, as oil is poured. This word is said, Ephphatha, to receive grace and goodness, just like water being poured over you, like oil being poured over you.

Saint Teresa of Avila says, let us never cease to believe that even in this life, God gives the hundred fold. It’s true. God gives the 100 fold. But we’re closing it off. We’re the ones blocking it. So I think the idea is, Ephphatha, be open so that as God gives the 100 fold, we can receive 100 fold. Ephphatha, be open.

God Save Us

A Homily for the 22nd Sunday in Ordinary Time

Gregory dies and he finds himself in the presence of the devil. Oops. And the devil says, do you want a tour? So Mary says, sure. They go up to a room and there’s screaming and torturing sounds and hollering. Gregory says, what did they do? And the devil says, well, these are Baptists who drink beer. They go to the next room for torturing sounds.

And what did they do? Oh, these are Jews who ate bacon. And they go to the next room. What did they do? And he says these are Catholics who ate meat on Friday. And then they go to the next room. What did they do? And the devil says, oh, these are Episcopalians who ate their main course with their salad fork.

I don’t mean to offend anybody with this joke, but it’s a kind of this is what’s going on in today’s gospel. The pointlessness of these rules. Unless these rules go somewhere. Mark gives us these, all these cleanliness rules about beds and cups and utensils and and Jesus says, but that’s not where cleanliness comes from, because these things have to go somewhere.

If they just stay, rules, but they stay the endpoint. If they stay what we focus on, that’s just empty piety. Saint Teresa of Avila says, God save us from empty piety because these things have to change our interior. These rules. Otherwise they’re just a joke. This comes from the Tao Te Ching, written by Lao Tzu, the founder of Daoism.

He says, what are your thoughts? For your thoughts become your words. What are your words for your words become your actions. What your actions for your actions become your habits. What your habits or your habits become your character. What your character for your character becomes your destiny. I think that’s what she’s saying. What Mark is saying in today’s gospel, it would.

Teresa of Avila is saying when she says, God save us from empty piety.

Checkbook

A homily for the Sixth Sunday of Easter

When I was newly ordained (quite a few years ago now) Father Roy told me a story when he was newly ordained, which was sixty years before that. An elderly Carmelite in the priory was dying and they were taking turns to sit up with him at night, so that if he needed anything they’d be there and he would not die alone. And it was Roy’s night. He fell asleep in the chair and the guy woke him up making noises. So Roy gets up and says, “Do you need another blanket, Father?” No. “Do you need slippers?” No. “Do you need another pillow?” No. And he keeps pointing to his pillow so Roy reaches under the pillow and there’s a checkbook under there. And he pulls out the checkbook and hands it to the dying Carmelite. And the dying Carmelite holds it tight – until he dies. It sounds like a terrible story, but I think we all have a checkbook. We all have something that we’re holding tight that we don’t want to let go. You know, some wound maybe, somebody said something, or somebody dumped us. Or maybe some accomplishment that we just want to boast in. Give all the ego – some ego thing. It’s a lot of stuff. Each of us, I think; each of us has a checkbook. In today’s gospel Jesus says, “I give you a new commandment, love on another as I have loved you.” Saint Therese of Lisieux says, “how is that possible? How can I love my sisters as Jesus love them?” “But it’s a commandment and he does not command the impossible, so I will allow Jesus to love my sisters through me.” That’s exactly right. Saint Thomas Aquinas uses the term “vacare Deo” for the same idea. That when we pull something away or give something up, we release it; God fills that vacancy. Vacare Deo. Vacancy for God. But it’s hard to give the checkbook up. Even Saint Teresa of Avila – the great saint – says, “Lord, I do not think that I can give you everything that you ask of me, but I will allow you to take it; and I pray that I don’t try to stop you.” We can’t give up the checkbook but we can ask God to take the checkbook – whatever it is. And I think that we all have something; but the more we give this up, the more “vacare Deo,” the more vacancy for God, the more God fills us. And then it’s God’s love that fills us, and we love one another with that love. Therese is right. Teresa is right. Vacare Deo.

How to Make It Work

A Carmelite homily for Wednesday of the Fourth Week of Easter, 24 April 2024, Lectionary 281

In today’s Gospel Jesus says, “If anyone hears my words but does not observe them, I do not condemn him; my words condemn him.” What does this mean? Saint John of the Cross wrote a formation manual, a manual for those entering the Order – things to be aware of and things to do. And he calls it “The Precautions” – things to be cautious of. And this is the First Precaution of many precautions, the First Precaution. This is what Saint John of the Cross writes: “The First Precaution is to understand that you have come to the monastery so that all here may fashion and shape you. So think of everyone in the community as artisans, as indeed they are. Some will fashion you with words for you, some by words against you; others by deeds for you, others by deeds against you. In all this try to be submissive as the statue is to the sculptor, the statue is to the artist who paints it, or the statue is to the guilder who embellishes it. If you fail to observe this precaution you will not know how to overcome your sensitivity or your feelings, nor will you get along well in the community, nor will you find holy peace, nor free yourself from stumbling blocks or evil.” You notice how Saint John of the Cross does not say, if you don’t do this God’s gonna get you. No! If you don’t do this, this is not going to turn out well. It’s as simple as that. Do these precautions and it’s going to work; if you don’t do these precautions and it probably not going to work. I think that’s what Jesus is getting at. If you do what Jesus tells us life is going to work. Forgive one another. Don’t judge one another. Be patient with one another. Listen to one another. Treat one another with dignity, like the Golden Rule. Forgive one another seventy time seven. On and on. It’s like these are Jesus’ “The Precautions” for life to work. If we don’t do them we’ll get through life but it work as well. I think this is why Jesus says, “I will not condemn you; my words condemn you.” Because it’s not going to work as well.

Nourishing Bread

A Carmelite homily for Wednesday of the Third Week of Easter, 17 April 2024, Lectionary 275

Oftentimes people come to me saying: “Oh, my prayer is dry,” or “I’m going nowhere,” or “Life is empty.” I can sometimes think that. Saint Teresa of Avila has a quotation that I love. She says, “Self-knowledge is the bread upon which the soul is fed.” That’s how we get nourished. That’s how we find life. Bread is meant to nourish, to give life. And what is that bread but self-knowledge? In these gospels this week we have the ‘Bread of Life Discourse’ coming from John Chapter 6. But the Last Supper is John Chapter 13. So I think Jesus is meaning more than just Eucharist here. I think when he says “I am the Bread of Life” he is saying “I will teach you how to live; I will teach you who you are; I will teach what is important.” This is the Bread of Life! Saint Teresa is so right: “Self-knowledge is the bread upon which the soul is fed.” When you’re feeling empty, you’ve stopped exploring yourself; you’ve stopped knowing yourself. New roads are there and you don’t enter them. New vistas, new ways. This is the call: to go deeply and explore yourself. Then you will find life. Then you will find interest. Then your life will go somewhere. Because Jesus is the Bread of Life.