Teresa of Avila Archives

Publicly Acknowledged Spiritual Leaders

The parable of the 10 wise virgins and the 10 foolish virgins (Matthew 25:1-13) is more a tale of 20 foolish persons. This is a homily for the thirty-second Sunday in Ordinary Time (Cycle A).

When I was in college, Pope John Paul II was on a tour of the United States and was coming to Chicago. So a bunch of students rented a bus and came up to Chicago to greet the Pope and attend his outdoor mass in Grant Park. And it was a cool experience.

The bus parked on Lakeshore Drive and the pilgrims all walked up Lakeshore Drive, which was closed, to the park. And we stood around and stood around and stood around and stood around and stood around. The Pope was long delayed. And so people started to sit on the grass. And then others said, “Well, I have some food here,” because it was approaching lunchtime. The Pope was hours late. So people pulling out lunches and sharing their lunches. And it seemed like there was plenty of food to give everyone something.

Now, this is what I would expect of a Christian assembly where supplies are running low: “Let’s all pull our resources and share.” This is what’s not going on in today’s gospel. I think we have the 10 wise virgins, I’ll call them maidens, and the 10 foolish. I think they’re all foolish. We have 20 foolish because the 10 who brought the extra flasks aren’t sharing. What kind of bridesmaids are they? And then the foolish ones, of course, were unprepared. So we have everyone is acting substandardly in this parable.

What all it would take was maybe a little leadership. That’s what this parable calls for. Someone to take leadership. There are many different ways to solve this dilemma. You could solve it by saying, “Let’s all put all the oil together and only keep one lamp lit. When the bridegroom comes, we’ll share the oil. There’ll be time and then light all the lamps and everyone can go in.”

Or they could say, another solution would be, “Well, let’s just have one lamp for every other bridesmaid. We can do this. Who’s going to keep us out from not having enough lamps going?” That would be a solution.

Or another solution is “Everybody put out your lamps except for one and we’ll keep that lamp going. And when the bridegroom comes, we’ll all light our lamps.” There are many different solutions. Why isn’t anybody thinking of them? Because there’s no leaders among the 20 foolish bridesmaids or the maidens. And I think that’s the call here.

In the church today, especially, where the church could be in crisis, where the church can be polarized, where the church is in argument, we need wisdom. We need good leadership.

When I was a novice, we had classes in many different subjects. And there was a Maryknoll priest who gave us some classes and he would always say, “As soon as you become a novice, you are a publicly acknowledged spiritual leader.” And we all looked at each other. “Who, me? I’m just beginning.” But he would say, “No, as soon as you put on the habit, you are a publicly acknowledged spiritual leader.” And I hope we all grew into that.

That’s what these foolish maidens, foolish bridesmaids, they need to grow into leadership. They need to be acknowledged spiritual leaders. Saint Teresa of Avila says, “God accords great favor with anyone placed with good companions.” I would say, considering today’s parable, God accords great favor with anyone placed with good and wise leaders. God bless.

To Learn the Language of Heaven

The Beatitudes (Matthew 5:3-10) are the language of heaven. And we’re here to learn this language. This is a homily for the Solemnity of All Saints.

Yesterday, the prospective adopter of the last two kittens stopped by to visit with them. We had a bunch of cats here, trapped them, had them fixed, vaccinated, dewormed, etc., ready for adoption. And then two other abandoned cats—kittens—joined them. So these are the last two.

Well, she came into the room they were in, and they were sleeping in the sun. But as soon as they opened their eyes and saw her, they wanted to panic. They wanted—their eyes got big, and they wanted to jump and run away. But she kind of just soothingly said to me, “Talk to me.” And she’d look at them and close her eyes slowly and open them slowly, but continue talking to me.

And the cats calmed down, and their eyes started to close, and close some more. And she was talking, and look at them and close her eyes. And the way she held her body, and they closed their eyes and they fell back asleep. It was amazing. And then she went up to pet them. And I said, “How did you do that?” And she goes, “I speak their language.”

I think that is exactly what’s going on in today’s Gospel. We have this beginning of the Sermon of the Mount where Jesus says, “This is what his followers should be like. This is what they should do. This is what they should think.” And it begins with the Beatitudes. And this is the Gospel chosen for the Solemnity of All Saints.

And I say, this is the language saints speak. It may not be word language; it may be doing language. Like the adopter didn’t use any words, it was gestures of peacefulness and love and warmth. And the cats responded. And that’s what I think the Beatitudes are: peacefulness and humanity and warmth.

And so this is the language of heaven, and this is why I think we’re here, is to learn the language of heaven. To be poor in spirit means not to be controlled by stuff, to comfort the mourners, and to be humble, to be meek, not always putting myself first, to hunger and thirst for righteousness, for justice, for fairness.

That’s the language of heaven: to be merciful, to be purified or dedicated heart, to be peacemakers, and to be persecuted even for the sake of righteousness, standing up for the right. This is the language we’re here to learn. This is the language of the saints.

It’s like when you go to a foreign country, if you don’t speak the language, it’s going to be a lot harder. If we don’t speak the language of heaven, it’s going to be a lot harder. But it’s—if we can learn to be merciful. The world: “no, no mercy.” The world: “no peace.” The world: “always it’s me first.” The world: “no meekness, no humility.” The world: “look out for number one.” It’s not the language of saints.

So it’s like going to a foreign country and speaking the language. We fit right in. We move right in. We walk securely and peaceably. Are we worried about this? I don’t think so. Saint Teresa of Avila says—it’s a great line—“Do not let your sins cause you to despair, for God can make saints out of the greatest sinners.” All God is doing is teaching us how to speak the language of heaven. Happy All Saints Day!

All That Glimmers

A homily for the 23rd Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle A, Matthew 1st 8:15-20

I asked Siri on my phone, “How many people are there on the planet?” And she said, “There are 8 billion 100 million people on the planet.” And I just smiled because I say, all those people and no two are compatible. It’s like God made us so there’s going to be friction, because I actually think it’s in the friction that we grow. We learn patience, we learn forgiveness, we learn generosity, we learn love.

In today’s Gospel, Matthew’s Gospel, we have: when there is friction, what do you do? You know, you go talk to the person — first step. If it doesn’t work, then you bring another person with you. If that doesn’t work, then you bring witnesses with you. If that doesn’t work, then you tell it to the whole church. What is Jesus — really, what is Matthew — telling us? It’s important to preserve the relationship. It is important. And so, at the end, if that doesn’t work, Jesus says in Matthew’s Gospel — really, Matthew says — treat them as you shun them, as you would a foreigner or a tax collector. But we know that’s what Jesus did to foreigners and what he did to tax collectors. He embraced them and brought them into his company. Even then, it says, preserve the relationship, because it’s in the relationship we grow.

This crossed my Facebook feed, and I think this fills in very well with what Jesus would say when he says, when somebody does you wrong, turn the other cheek, love them anyway, don’t answer fire for fire or wrong for wrong. This crossed my Facebook feed, and it’s this week, and it’s very, very good.

This ruined a good part of my afternoon. It did happen at the café, but I don’t tell Karen stories, so you’re not going to get that part. But here’s the thing that I want to focus on. After I got done today, I was sort of having a conversation with myself, being like, “Gosh, like, I can’t believe how much this is bothering me.” But then that reminded me of something — something that I live by. And that is to do my best to never be that person who ruins someone else’s day. To not be the stranger who was mean to someone walking down the street. To not give a judging look to someone wearing their new hat that they were already self-conscious about. To not be the thing that is keeping somebody up at night replaying a scenario that happened earlier in the day that they’re upset about. To instead be the glimmers.

I think this takes it one step further than today’s Gospel. Don’t be that person that starts it. Don’t be that person that causes the friction, that causes the tension. Don’t be that person. I think it fits very well with Jesus — all through the Gospels, the same. Saint Teresa of Ávila says the same. She takes it that one step further also. She writes, “Look for Christ our Lord in everyone, and you will then have respect and reverence for all.” So I think that’s the secret, and that’s the bottom line, and that’s the point of today’s Gospel and all the Gospels: the friction, the tension, is because we’re just seeing our point of view or our sensitivity, our ego. Don’t be that person. As the guy in the video said, be all that glimmers instead.

Give a Name; Get a Name

A Homily for the 21st Sunday in Ordinary Time (Matthew 16:13-20)

When you read the Carmelite mystical saints, they all have their individual name for Jesus, and it’s not just Jesus. For example, Saint Teresa of Avila calls him my friend, my friend Jesus. Friend is her term. Saint John of the Cross, the term he uses mostly is my beloved. My beloved Jesus, my beloved. Or Saint Therese of Lisieux, the little flower, always says, “My Jesus,” never Jesus, “My Jesus.” They’re terms of intimacy, they’re terms of relationship, how they understand Jesus.

In today’s gospel, Jesus asks the apostles, “Who do you say that I am? Who do they say that I am?” Some of them say, “Well, you’re John the Baptist, or you’re one of the prophets.” And Simon says, “You are the Christ.” And Jesus smiles. Because now that is Simon’s term for Jesus, the Christ, which means the Messiah or the anointed one. That’s Simon’s term for Jesus.

As we saw, Teresa has a different term, John of the Cross has a different term, Therese of Lisieux has a different term. What term do you have for Jesus? It’s based on your relationship with Jesus. What do you call Jesus?

Now, that’s one side of the coin. The other side is now, Jesus turns to Simon and says, and gives him a name, “You are now Peter, the rock, the foundation.” So, the naming goes both ways. We name Jesus, and Jesus names us. So, the uh caveat here maybe, what does Jesus see? What does he base his name for us on? It could be pretty, or it could be pretty awful. You are . . .

Mute Speak and Deaf Hear

A homily for the third Sunday in Advent

There were problems in the early Christian community. The widows of the Greeks complained they weren’t getting the same amount of food as the widows of the Hebrews. And so the apostles say, let’s get deacons, and they can serve. Deacons were formed, instituted, because there was division to heal the division. And I think that’s the call of everyone is to heal the division.

In today’s gospel, the disciples of John the Baptist come to Jesus and say, are you the one who we know for another? And Jesus says, report what you see, that the blind see the deaf hear the lame walk. And I think that’s what Christians do. Oftentimes the community, we don’t want to see each other’s viewpoint. There’s division. We don’t want to hear each other’s arguments or even listen.

We don’t want to walk the extra mile with our brother or sister, but we’re called to be one in Christ, to see the viewpoint, to hear the arguments. To walk the extra mile. Saint Teresa of Avila says, “look for Christ our Lord in everyone. And then you will have respect and reverence for all”. I think that’s the key to being Christlike.

Christ says blind, see deaf. Hear lame walk. And when we see Christ in one another, it’s the same thing. We hear one another. We walk with one another. We listen to one another.

Gotta Bridge the Gap

A homily for the 26th Sunday in Ordinary Time

When the Carmelites first came to the United States, they settled in Kansas of all places, because there was a big German speaking community, and they took new vocations. But the new vocations were Americans. A lot of them were like Irish American, and they spoke a different language, English is a different food. They had different customs, they had different mannerisms.

And the Germans were starting to get outvoted, outnumbered. So one night all the Germans left the community, taking the sacristy, taking the money box, taking the library, and they just disappear, leaving all the English speakers to wake up in the morning. Where did everybody go? Where is everything? And the Germans settled in Texas. Where there was a German speaking community, last for quite a few years.

But then all of a sudden a big drought and Texas had everyone left, leaving the Carmelites there. They had nothing to do, no flock anymore. They came back to Kansas, of all things, ironically. You know, to bother heads and return. Some of them wouldn’t. And they went to Vienna, some of them because they spoke German and founded the Carmelite house in Vienna.

And I mentioned this because it’s that disparity, you know, when there’s a difference, when people get outvoted or outnumbered or outclassed or outgunned or outspent, and then there’s disparity and then there’s unhappiness and I think we see that in today’s gospel where we have Lazarus, who’s poor, the dogs are licking his wounds. He lives in the street.

And then we have the rich man in this parable who doesn’t even see that Lazarus is there. And when they both die, that gulf continues and gap continues. And the rich man still doesn’t even see Lazarus. Just orders Abraham to tell Lazarus, bring me some water. And I think that we have to keep that in mind always. That when there’s a difference, when things start to move more and more and more and more and more and more vertical, it gets out of hand.

People are unhappy. Reform is due. In St. Teresa’s time she became a nun in a convent called incarnation, where noble women could have, be nuns, but bring their servants, bring their food, and poor ones lived like in a closet. And so when she reformed, she said, no, all will be equal. And her famous line is, “in this house, all are friends, all are load, all are helped, all our held dear”.

She’s taking this great vertical situation in incarnate Incarnation convent and making it horizontal. And I think that’s the warning of today’s gospel. And I think it’s the warning of today’s society where the rich get richer and richer. I hear Microsoft is hiring some new employees at $100 million a year. It’s like the rich man. And where are, are we the Lazarus. We’ve got to be careful because this is where things start to fall apart. Just like in today’s parable, we’ve always got to to be working to keep things horizontal. I think Teresa of Avila taught that. I think that’s what Jesus is preaching about, that in this house, all are friends, all are loved, all are helped, all are held dear.

Let’s hope that is always the case.

Only Pockets

A homily for the 25th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Got a message through Facebook. When I opened it, it said “your page is in violation of Facebook’s standards and will be deleted unless you click here”. So I clicked here and it took me to a site and log in to your Facebook page. And I realized, oh, it’s a phishing expedition. It’s a scam. But boy was it well crafted.

Beautiful logo, Facebook logo, everything. And I admired it. Even though it was nefarious. I admired it because it was so well crafted. And this is what I think is going on in today’s gospel. In this parable of the man, you’re about to be fired. So he takes, invoices to the creditors and changes the number so people are indebted to him and will take him into their houses.

And Jesus says, you got to admire the crafty manager. You got to admire him. But don’t be like him because his life is just way too narrow. There’s an Italian saying A pickpocket only sees pockets, and that’s true. But life is more than pocket. You can put together a great crafty way of finding pockets. That could be admirable, but the invitation for life is not just more pockets, more money, more something narrow.

Jesus is inviting us to life and fullness of life and love and deep relationship and a relationship with God and redemption. This is the invitation, not pockets. And that’s what I think Teresa of Avila say when she says

“There are more tears shed over answered prayers than unanswered prayers”, because oftentimes our prayers are like, I want bigger pockets, more pockets. I want more money. I want more attention. I want more tiny stuff that I think will make me happy. And it doesn’t. And Jesus wants us to be praying for life and relationships and love and big hearts, and not to settle on pockets.

So when our prayer is pocket, yeah, we’re going to cry over it when we realize how narrow that is. Today’s gospel is don’t settle on narrow. Don’t settle on small. Don’t settle on beauty. Don’t settle on pockets. Because you’ve been invited to the immensity.

Move there.

Radical Horizontality

A homily for the 21st Sunday of Ordinary Time

We know the names King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella because they sent Columbus to America. But what they’d also done is they conquered the Muslims, drove them out of Spain, reunite reuniting the kingdom, and told all the remaining Muslims and Jews become Catholic or, leave. And they instituted purity of blood law that you had to show you didn’t have any Jewish ancestry, Muslim ancestry, to work in the government to be an aristocrat, to become a religious, to become a priest, anything you had to prove purity of bloodline.

It was a very vertical law. Judging you are not worthy because you don’t have pure blood. Here comes Teresa of Avila, founding these new convents of hers. And she. Everyone was welcome. It didn’t matter what their ancestry was. Indigenous from the Americas. Welcome, former Muslims. Welcome people of Jewish blood. Welcome. And you get a lot of trouble. He said there’s a purity of blood law.

She said it doesn’t matter. All are welcome here. She took this vertical law, that was too vertical. And because she was radically horizontal. And I think that’s what today’s gospel is about, being radically horizontal. And Jesus says, try to come in through the narrow key or take the narrow road. Teresa of Avila says, “I don’t see how, Lord, nor do I know how the road that leads to you is narrow.” Because she could see that there are people in all directions who want to be part of the community, want to be united, want to love one another.

Radical horizontality. And that’s why Jesus will say, you will be surprised if you’re rejected. Because if you see the world vertically and of course, positioning yourself, then at the top of the heap superior to all of them. That’s not what Jesus is here for. He says people will come from the east, west, north and south, horizontal directions not coming from the kingdom to the mountaintops, from the summits, from the sky.

No, from the east, west, north. To the banquet. I think that’s the key. That’s why Teresa of Avila cannot see how that’s a narrow road, because that’s how she saw everything. And that’s the call for us to see everything. Not judging, not superior, them inferior, but horizontal. Brothers and sisters. All.

When You Can’t Let it Go

A homily for the 19th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Father Roy tells the story that when he was a new priest. So this is a few years ago, because Father Roy has been 60 years a priest. When he was a new priest, an older priest then in the house was dying. So they were taking turns through the night so the priest wouldn’t die alone. And it was Father Roy’s turn.

So he’s in the easy chair, and he falls asleep. And he wakes up because the guy is calling out to him. And. But the guy is, you know, asks for something, but Roy can’t understand. So he leans. What do you want, father? Another blanket? No, no, no. I fluff up your pillow. No no no. Something to eat?. No, no no.

No water? No. And then the priest, reaches, behind him. Points behind his. Under his pillow. So, Roy reaches under there and there’s a checkbook, and he hands the checkbook to this priest. And the priest takes the checkbook and is holding it like this, and he’s holding the checkbook and dies with it in his hand. And, I’m thinking that’s a terrible story.

But in many ways, we’re all that priest. There’s something that isn’t what we should be holding on to, that we hold on to old grudges or old vanities, or old memories or old hurts or things that that the Lord is constantly saying, let go, let those go, and we don’t want to. We’re going to clutch on to them. It could be our accomplishments, our degrees, our family, all sorts of things that we think are us, and we’re going to hold on to it.

Saint Teresa of Avila says, “Lord, I do not think I can give you everything that you ask.” Even the great Saint Teresa can’t give up everything. She has her checkbook, so she has a checkbook. You have a checkbook. But she is a great saint, she continues the prayer, “but I will allow you to take it.” That is sanctity. That we can’t give up everything. There’s something that’s just too dear to us could be for the positive or the negative. But ask the Lord to take it. In today’s gospel, Jesus says, where your treasure is, there your heart will be. I think that’s the call. Give the Lord all of your treasures. Give the Lord all your words, whatever it is that keeps you from fullness of life and living, and the fullness of this gift, and give that to the Lord. And then the Lord will have your heart. Lord, I do not think I can give you everything that you ask, but I will allow you to take it. Tough prayer, but I think we can do it.

You Get What You Expect

A Homily for the 17th Sunday of Ordinary Time

I was driven to the brand new diocesan retreat center. And as we get up there, there’s no one around but just some dogs. So you step out of the car and the driver says, oh those are mean guard dogs. I’m petting these dogs and they’re wagging their tails. And I said, no, they’re friendly dogs. They’re pussycat dogs. Come on out of the car.

He opens his door and the dogs run around the car. He slams the door. He said, I told you. So I took the dogs, put them in the chapel and closed the door. So he could get out of the car. Those two? I was expecting friendly dogs. The dogs gave me friendly dogs. He was expecting mean guard dogs. The dogs gave him mean guard dogs.

I think that’s how life works. And that’s how we work with one another. When I was a schoolteacher. I always expected my students to do great work and great job and get good grades. And you know, they never disappointed me. They always rose to it. I expected good. They gave me good.

And so we extend this to today’s gospel of Jesus. Just knock. It will be opened ask you’ll be given. It’ll be abundant. If dogs deliver. If people deliver, I think God delivers. Just expect God, the universe, creation, everything to deliver. And it will deliver. The door will be opened. The, requests will not be denied. They’ll be answered.

The fullness will be given. It’s the whole universe. From dogs to people and students to God himself, gives what you expect, Saint Teresa of Avila says, “never cease to believe that even in this life, God gives the hundredfold.” That’s what today’s gospel is all about.