Eighteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, cycle C

Luke 12:13-21

Among Jews, even today, the rabbi, who has been educated in Jewish law, is often the one turned to to decide the proper course of action. This is especially true of the Orthodox sects. In such communities the people turn to the rabbi for decisions about marriage, divorce, what constitutes observing the sabbath – and indeed, questions about inheritance. It was true in Jesus' time as well, so the man in the crowd was simply doing what people did and asking the teacher who was passing through the town to be an arbiter. Jesus refuses to get involved, indirectly accuses the man of greed, and goes on to tell a parable about a rich man. When you read Jesus' words, what do you think of the rich man? He doesn't seem to be a bad guy, right? In fact, he is a farmer, and probably worked hard to get his harvest in. And he even seems prudent, building new barns to keep what he has rightly earned safe. But Jesus calls him a fool. If his life had not been demanded of him then and there, would he still be a fool? What if he lived to a ripe old age and gradually worked through his wealth, leaving something for the kids but enjoying a life of relative leisure? Surely we, who struggle to do exactly the same thing, would think he was pretty smart. He had grain, we have 401K's and savings accounts. We would like to look forward to a day when we can live off of what we have earned without worrying.

Does Jesus have something against wealth? Probably not. If you remember the story of the rich man and Lazarus, you will remember that Lazarus is sitting in the bosom of Abraham, presumably in heaven. Abraham was very wealthy. Even in this story Jesus tells, it isn't the fact that the rich man has stored up treasures for himself, but the fact that he had not become rich in what mattered to God. , b God calls the rich man a fool – I think it's the only place in scripture where God says something like that. And the word “fool” is a translation of the hebrew word “raka” which refers to someone who overlooks the obvious. That word can also be translated as “godless”, because to the Hebrews the most obvious thing in the world was that God existed and cared for them.

So how is the rich man a fool? And would he still be a fool if he and his family were spared the consequences of a famine or a war because he had been prudent? These are all questions that come to my mind when I read this story, and I'm not happy with the answers that I come up with. But maybe it's something like this.

The gospel passage begins with a man asking Jesus to judge between him and his brother over an inheritance. But neither person has a right to the inheritance other than perhaps a legal right. Neither worked for it, neither owned it before I presume, the father of the brothers died. Likewise, the rich man did not really earn his abundant harvest. He might have put in a lot of work, but the real blessing came because of good weather, plentiful rain, no locusts – in short, he was lucky – or as we who are Christians know, there are no coincidences. His abundant harvest was really due to God. So the first way he is a fool is he fails to recognize this; he fails to see his role as a steward of God's good things, rather than someone who owns them.

Second, there are many references in the Old Testament to what you did with a surplus. God wanted you to be blessed with food, clothing and shelter, but he also wanted you to help your neighbor out of your surplus. Just as you were to recognize the real origin of your goods in God, so you were to be a steward of those gifts. To one of Jesus' listeners, they would have been horrified to hear of someone who already had barns full of good things to tear them down and build bigger ones. That was a scandal, something only a corrupt person like Herod might do. As president Obama said a long time ago, “sooner or later you've made enough money.” When we think of the very wealthy of our own time, we can tolerate and even admire them if they are using their wealth to help their fellow man in some way. We can even tolerate them using their wealth to create jobs and produce more wealth. But it's hard to tolerate someone who uses his wealth to build marble mansions or line his toilet seats with mink. In a way, that's what is going on here.

But perhaps the worst way the man is a fool is that his whole mind is focused on his wealth and on himself, on his comfort. He has degraded his humanity; he is not seeking what is important, union with God, but is chasing things which in the long run are worthless. He is living much like someone who does not believe in God; like someone whose moral code is governed by what he can get away with. Living as though there is no God is the very definition of a fool.

This parable of Jesus makes me uncomfortable. I worked hard all my life and saved money; my wife and I did without so that when we were old and gray we wouldn't be a burden on our children. We've tried at the same time to keep our eyes on the supernatural dimension; we've tried to live in a way that we hope pleases God, recognizes that this is his world, realizes that we are stewards of our good things, not owners. We've tried to give away part of our wealth every year. And we are through the grace of God, doing alright financially. But I just hope that Jesus will not say to me, You fool! You stored up treasure for yourself and never became rich in what matters to God.

Seventeenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, cycle C

 Luke 7:36 – 8:3

During my career as a physician who specialized in cancer, many of my patients prayed very hard to be rid of their cancers. It never seemed as though prayer did anything; I saw people who didn't believe in God beat the disease and people who were about as religious as you could get die of cancer. And if your experience is like mine, you have to admit that there are times when your prayers don't seem to have been answered; and when they are answered the way you had hoped, you can usually find another explanation. And yet today's first reading and our gospel seem to encourage us to keep asking until we get what we want, and they also sort of promise that if we ask long enough and hard enough we will get what we pray for.

But when we see prayer as the means by which we get God to do something for us, I think we've missed the point.

The apostles weren't different from us. They weren't new to prayer; they probably prayed a great deal, both in the synagogue on Saturdays and privately. And they didn't see their prayers being answered either – at least the way they wanted them to be. And down through the ages we've heard the same old cliches – God always answers our prayer, but sometimes the answer in “no”. Or God didn 't answer my prayer because he knows that if he did it wouldn't be good for me.” Or, God didn't answer my prayer because I am a sinner, or I didn't say the prayer right, or I didn't pray hard enough. Back in the shrine to Mary you will sometimes find little leaflets telling you how to say the prayer to Saint Jude. If you say it nine times a day for nine days, you will get what you pray for. And there are a lot of those kinds of things floating around. If only you prayed in the right way …. If only you could discover the secret of prayer. And so Jesus' apostles ask “Lord, teach us to pray”. Because as far as they could tell, Jesus always got his prayers answered.

Jesus gives us the secret today in the gospel. First, he gives us an example of how to pray. You start out by praising God, by sincerely expressing that you want what God wants; you want his kingdom to come on earth, as it is in heaven. After this, you pray for your needs – not your wants, your needs. Your daily bread. Then you admit to God that you are a sinner in need of forgiveness, and you recognize that to be forgiven, you have to forgive. It's a rule. You can't be forgiven if you haven't forgiven. And finally you acknowledge your weakness and need for God's protection --- lead us not into temptation, deliver us from evil.

The second point Jesus makes is that we have to persist. Abraham persisted, and God answered his prayer. The man who persisted in banging on the door of his neighbor had his prayer answered. But I know people who have prayed continuously and not had their prayer answered. So what is going on here? What does it mean to persist in prayer, what is Jesus telling us? I don't think persistence means that we keep saying the same prayer over and over. I think we can learn something from Abraham. He knew God as a friend, and he knew that God had a weak spot, if you can call it that – God loved the innocent. And Abraham presumed upon his friendship with God to beg God to spare the whole city even for a handful of innocent people. Abraham's prayer was not a plea for himself, but for something God would want as well – sparing the innocent and giving the wicked another chance.

The man who persuaded his neighbor to get up and give him what he asked for knew something about his neighbor; he was a friend; and ultimately would respond to a friend's request. Persistence in prayer means not that we bother God to the point of Him giving up, but we demonstrate to God that we really believe in his power and his love for us, and we in turn trust that he will answer our prayer.

The third point Jesus makes has to do with the bread and stone, the fish and the scorpion. An earthly father would never give his child a stone when he asked for bread – of course not. But if the child asked for a stone, to eat or a scorpion, a human father would not answer those requests either. But a child who was refused these things could still trust in the goodness and care of his father, who would still be giving him good gifts. Jesus is not saying “sometimes the answer is no” but rather, trust God to answer your prayer in the way that is best for you. That's kind of where we started from – may your kingdom come, your will be done on earth as it is in heaven.

In the example Jesus gives us, you notice that there is no “I”. The “Our Father” is a prayer of a community. And it follows that if we want our prayers to be answered, we need a community to pray with us. And it would be even better if it were a community of individuals who were aware of the gifts God has given each of them for the building up of the church. Those are called “charisms”. I don't know why God did it that way, but he works through us in our community. The Holy Spirit still gives gifts of wisdom and knowledge and leadership and music and intercessory prayer and even healing and prophecy. Saint Paul tells us that. But we don't know which ones we have unless we work to discern them – and after discerning them, step forward to use them. The Church is the Body of Christ; we are an organism made up of many parts. When we pray in Christ as a Body, won't God answer our prayers?

There was a time when Christianity was threatened by Islam, and the pope called for everyone to pray the rosary. The Turks were turned back, miraculously. All the Church prayed.

I know that my prayers have been answered, sometimes in ways that I expected, but sometimes in ways that were better than I expected. And you can't tell when God answered your prayers or how he answered them unless you are looking back at your life.

Fifteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, cycle C

Luke 10:25-37

A wife remarked to her husband that the next door neighbor, who was moving, had returned the barbecue grill he had borrowed eight months ago. The husband replied, “Oh, no! I just paid thirty dollars for that at their garage sale! How's that for a neighbor!

We just heard the parable of the Good Samaritan. I think it is interesting that Jesus specifies that a priest and a levite pass by the individual who was robbed and beaten. I don't think Jesus had it in for priests or levites. He was trying to make a point. If you were to ask the priest why he did this, he would have a very good reason: he was on his way to Jerusalem to offer sacrifice, and even to touch a person who might possibly be dead would make him unclean and unable to offer the sacrifice. For the priest, aiding the stranger would interfere with his very important mission. The same is true of the Levite. Levites were members of the tribe of Levi, an hereditary priesthood separate from the priesthood of the temple. In the time of Jesus they played a special role politically and religiously. In the temple they guarded the sacred vessels and provided music for the services. The other Israelites were obliged to provide the Levites with a tithe of food and goods, since the Levites had not been given a hereditary land. Levites were responsible for distributing the surplus contributions made to the Temple. This went to the poor, the widows and the orphans. Our Levite may have been carrying some of this money or going to Jerusalem to do what he was assigned to do. In any event, he had a mission that for him was more important than stopping to see what was going on with the man who was robbed and beaten.

The Samaritan also had a mission; he was a businessman and was on his way to close a deal, or buy some goods to bring back to Samaria to sell. But only the Samaritan attended to the needs of the stranger.

When you think about it, a lot of Jesus' stories have the same point. The parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus shows a rich man who as far as we can tell, really didn't do anything horrible; he ate well and dressed well, but nothing in Jesus' story suggests that he was any worse a sinner than you or I. But he never even noticed poor Lazarus who was sitting on the front steps, and for this reason Jesus says he is condemned.

And when Jesus talks about the sheep and the goats, the only thing that separates the two groups is that one group has fed the hungry, given drink to the thirsty, and so forth, while the other did not. Neither group knew that the “least of the brethren” was Jesus Christ.

Jesus himself demonstrates this as he goes about his ministry. He is approached by the temple official who begs him to come and heal his daughter who is on the point of death. As Jesus is going to the daughter, he feels his power going out of him to heal the woman who touched the tassel of his cloak. Jesus stops and engages her in a dialogue and compliments her on her faith. He is fully attentive to her needs at the time she needs him.

I imagine that if you were to ask Jesus the bare minimum of what was expected of a Christian, it would not be a prayer life, or the ability to answer questions about theology or morality. These of course are good and wonderful things. It might not even be about how generous you are, how much you give to the missions or to your church. Generosity is of course wonderful and we couldn't get along without it. But what Jesus seems to expect of one of his followers is to be aware of the people that come into his life, see what they need, and fulfill that need as best as they can. I spoke to some elderly institutionalized people not long ago about this issue, and pointed out that even they could make a positive difference in the lives of those who come into contact with them. A thank you, a compliment, maybe a smile – we all know that even these little gestures can make our whole day. When someone tells me that she appreciated something I did, I can snack on that compliment for the rest of the day.

Not all of us are called to attend the wounds of the stranger who has been beaten and robbed. Not everyone has the means to help someone in poverty or someone living on the street. But we all have something we can give that can make another person more “whole”.

The basic thing Jesus expects of us is to make connections with other people that go toward overcoming the essential loneliness we all have. This connection we make with each other is no small thing. Jesus said, “where two or three are gathered together in my name, there I am”. When we reach out to each other, even if it is only a smile in a grocery store or a deserved compliment or a “thank you” something of God enters into the relationship.

Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, cycle C

Luke 10:1-12; 17-20

I'm sure some of you were Boy Scouts. I was a member of that organization till the end of my first year in high school. Even though we could have gone on longer, we decided it was no longer cool so we dropped out. Nowadays the Scouts seem to be seething with controversy; they've been accused of being anti-gay, racist, sexist because they won't admit girls, and just plain old fashioned. But in my childhood they were mostly good.

The motto of the scouts was “Be Prepared”. And we were. I had a backpack which contained my scout manual, which was a handy reference to almost anything you could think of. It showed you how to build an emergency shelter in a snowstorm, or build a birch bark canoe if you needed to cross a river. You could trap small animals if you needed to eat, and weave a fishing line out of whatever was handy. You could identify edible plants as well as ones which were poisonous. I really felt prepared. I also had a boy scout knife. In addition to the blade, it had a can opener, a bottle opener, a file, a set of scissors, and a fork. I think there was a compass in the handle as well. And I had a boy scout hatchet and a kitchen kit that folded into a neat package. It contained a dish that could be a plate or a frying pan, a collapsible cup, and a lid. I had a canteen with a cloth lining that when you soaked in the water to keep it cool. I had a one-person pup tent and a sleeping bag, and of course I had a water-proof metal container which held about fifty matches which you could strike on your shoe or a rock. I was ready for anything. I can remember going on hikes with my scout troop, all of us carrying our backpacks.

Last week Jesus refused to accept the excuses of potential disciples who wanted to follow him, but first wanted to tend to family obligations. Today Jesus picks seventy disciples and sends them out. You can almost hear them: “Jesus, what should we wear? What should we bring? When we come to a town, where will we stay? Should we take a change of clothes? And when we get there, what do you want us to tell them?”

And you heard Jesus' answer. He tells them not to be prepared. He tells them to rely on God, in a way, who will show himself in the generous people they meet. He tells them not to waste time with the people who won't accept them. And the message is very simple: The kingdom of God is at hand for you.

For Jesus, there is urgency in the mission on which he sends his disciples. It can't wait for them to put together a boy scout back pack. Every minute delayed means another soul lost. Jesus can't wait for his disciples to memorize a few more prayers, read a few more books, become more skilled in answering questions.

But he doesn't leave them totally without resources. He gives them three things:

First, he gives them power – the power to heal, the power to drive out demons. He does this not because he wants to start a health care business, but because these will be the signs to reinforce the message.

Second he gives each one of them a companion. Evangelizing by yourself is difficult and painful. Evangelizing with someone else is enjoyable. The Mormons and Jehovah's witnesses take this to heart. They always send out missionaries together. In addition to the fact that it is psychologically a lot easier to talk about our faith when we are accompanied by someone who believes what we do, having a companion is a good way to keep ourselves true to the message. When one of us forgets something the other can remember. And where we might think of one fervent soul as a religious fanatic, two are more believable; they seem more rooted in reality.

The third thing he gives them is the knowledge that they are part of a much larger movement. Seventy-two doesn't seem like much, but if we had seventy two members of the choir, or Food for the Soul, or seventy-two men and women who were committed to the pro-life cause enough to help picket the abortion clinic, we would be pretty happy. And the work would be easier, because of the strength that exists in numbers.

You and I are given power. We don't always use it, but when we bring our Christianity into the work place, we always have an impact, hopefully for the better. When we show each other mercy by forgiving, by encouraging, by bringing Christ's presence to others, we can bring about great changes, we can show that the kingdom is at hand. You and I are given gifts precisely for this purpose, and we should always be ready to use them. What is your gift? Do you use it?

We are given companions on the journey. We should participate in some sort of small group that reinforces our faith. Sometimes it's the family, sometimes it's a good friend or two. But we should have someone that we can and do talk to about our faith journey. Consider the ancient practice of spiritual direction, discuss your progress in holiness with someone who can help guide you. Consider joining a faith sharing group like the bible study group which is about to start. There are many ways you can find a companion for your journey.

And we are given a larger purpose. This Church community is your seventy two disciples, all commissioned by Jesus to go out and show people that the kingdom of God is at hand. We should have this in mind when we go out into the world. We represent the people of God, but more specifically, the community of Saint Mary's.

So you don't have to have a boy scout backpack in order to be an evangelist. Jesus told the seventy two in effect, no excuses, no temporizing – get out and win souls. That's the message he gives us as well.

Thirteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, cycle C

 Luke 9:51-62

Today's gospel seems to be made up of a few unrelated bits; but I think Luke is talking about discipleship.

James and John know that Jesus has power. He has cured the sick, driven out demons; he's walked on water and made fish jump into the net. And they've had a taste of the power as well, having been sent forth to do the same tasks. When they are insulted by the Samaratan town they would have stayed in because they are “Jerusalem people” the first reaction is to suggest that the call down fire from heaven. That would show those Samaritans .

Many years ago back in the days of the hippies there were “Jesus people” who would dress up in long robes and grow beards and walk around in open toed sandals or even barefoot. They were trying to look like Jesus. They saw themselves as followers. And even today there are people who preach the Prosperity Gospel, the idea that if you follow Jesus that way, you will be rewarded with material goods. It certainly worked for Joel Osteen and Oral Roberts and Joyce Meyer. I'm not saying these aren't good people, but they all preach that if you get on God's good side, you will have wealth, health, and other good things; and of course if you don't have these things, you are doing something wrong. They are like James and John; they see Jesus as sort of a cosmic vending machine that wants to use his power to help his followers.

After this, Jesus talks about what it means to be a disciple; you may have to give up stability in your life; after all, Jesus has nowhere to lay his head, and if you follow him you will be subject to the same thing. And if you follow him, forget about attending your parent's funerals, and if you want to posess the kingdom of heaven then don't even say goodbye to your relatives and friends.

As I was reading this part of the gospel, I thought, “who follows Jesus like that?” Our bishop has a very nice place to lay his head; and I am pretty sure he will probably celebrate the funeral masses of his parents; and he goes down to visit his parents and his brother and probably many of his friends every now and then; Baltimore isn't that far. There are, of course, a few people in cloistered religious orders who are greatly restricted from these natural human actions, but they have a bed and three meals a day, and are allowed a little contact with their loved ones. So does Jesus really mean what he is saying?

Well, if he is being literal, I'm in trouble, and so are you, and so is our pastor.

Saint John of the Cross said that following Jesus does not mean that we dress like him, that we do the things he did, things we call “minstry”. It doesn't mean that we do things in the hopes of getting on his good side. It does mean, according to Saint John that when we do something we have the same motive for doing it as Christ would have had. It isn't “What would Jesus do?” but “Why would Jesus do what I am going to do?” There is a difference. Saint Paul talks about “Putting on Christ” and “It is no longer I that lives, but Christ lives in me”. Saint Francis started our with the intention of imitating Christ in everything, and judging by the movement that he started and by the confirmation by God through his stigmata, he succeeded – and by all accounts he was no genius, so it should be possible for you and I.

What did Francis do? He studied the gospels; he tried to live the way he saw Christ living; he took everything literally, until he was shown differently. When Jesus asked him to rebuild his church, he looked around for a ruined church to rebuild; when he read that Jesus' followers were to preach the gospel to every creature, he had no problem preaching to birds and animals. The point is not that Francis did some odd things, but like other saints, Francis immersed himself in the gospels to put on the mind of Christ. And that is a full time job, that is why Jesus says “Let the dead bury the dead” and “if you put your hand to the plow and look back, you are not worthy of the kingdom of heaven”.

Jesus wants each of us to be “other Christs”. We learn how to do this by bringing the scriptures into our lives; by following the teachings of the Church, which brings two thousand years of experience with human nature and the creation of Saints. And we learn how to do this from each other because we are all at some level of becoming other Christs. I think we all can recognize the Christ in each other; certainly we can see that we aren't perfect, but that always implies that we aren't totally imperfect either. And sometimes we can explicitely help each other; in our parish there are groups who try to help each other put on Christ – we have groups that pray together, groups that study together, and groups that minister together. And of equal importance, groups that come together primarily for fellowship. In all these groups Christ can emerge and help us put on the mind of Jesus.

So this is a good time to ask, am I doing something to put on Christ? What steps am I taking besides coming to Mass on Saturday or Sunday to learn more about Christ and how he thinks, how he makes decisions, how he chooses what to do and what not to do? What am I doing to be worthy of the kingdom of heaven?

Twelfth Sunday in Ordinary Time, cycle C

Luke 9:18-24

What is it we admire about fathers? There are may things we might admire about a man; he may be good at his profession; he may be a lot of fun to be with. We might admire his mind, or his physical abilities, or his talent with fixing cars. But when we ask the question, what makes an admirable father, a good father, a father worth imitating, I think most of us could come up with a list of characteristics. He is a good disciplinarian; he listens to his children; he encourages them when he sees that they are developing in good ways; he gives them enough freedom to find themselves, but not enough to get in serious trouble. And we could always add that he models for his children what it is to be a husband. And of course there is a lot more.

Many years ago I knew a couple who had a daughter who was born with a rare genetic disorder. Mental development in this disorder never gets much past that of a three month old. Physical problems are severe, including progressive difficulty swallowing. Siezures happen. And as time goes on the little control of movement the child has gradually disappears, so that they become totally helpless. Eventually after many long years, these children die in their forties. I think every parent or would-be parent would shudder to find that their child had this problem. I think nowadays because they can diagnose this problem using amniocentesis, most such children are aborted.

But during the time I knew this couple, whose child was now her early twenties, I noticed many things. Obviously both parents were heavily involved with the care of the child. The mother, however, periodically would sink into severe depression and have to be hospitalized. She was on medication and slept a lot as a result. The father encouraged her, always showed that he was there for her, that he was someone she could depend on. You could see that in their relationship. And the father worked the night shift so that after a few hours of sleep he could spend his time with his daughter and relieve his wife. I watched him feed the child through a feeding tube; he changed a lot of diapers. And when the child had a siezure, he was there making sure she did not bite her tongue or hurt herself. And on a nice day he'd be out pushing her along in her wheelchair, making sure she had a chance to enjoy the outdoors. When I moved to this area, I lost track of that couple. I hope God blessed them.

Today Jesus tells us that if you wish to save your life you will lose it; but if you lose your life for his sake, you will save it. This does not mean that Jesus wants us to be martyrs. But I think he is talking about two approaches to life.

One approach is to measure everything according to my standards. My goals, my objectives, they triumph over all the rest. That certainly describes a totally self-centered individual, and we might have an idea in our heads about what that person looks like. But we might be surprised. We've all known people who spend most of their time helping other people, but only on their own terms. We've known leaders of parishes and congregations in other denominations who had to have things just so, and indeed, seemed to be pretty good leaders. But their bottom line was “My way or the highway”. And so there is a type of person who wishes to save his life, but will never be able to deal with things that threaten his ideas about what he has been put on this earth for.

The other approach is illustrated by the father I described. I wonder how many dreams he had when he was young and just starting out. Then, one by one he gave them all up, living for his child and his wife; he gave up his life. And he gave it up for Jesus' sake. I don't know if he was an active church-goer; but he was doing exactly what Jesus advocated: “Whatsoever you do for the least of my brothers, that you do for me.” And in that famous passage from Matthew's gospel, Jesus makes the point that those who did for the least did not even know they were doing it for the Master. I wonder how many people will be saved by giving up their lives for other people? Probably that will count more than great sermons or fasting or saying many prayers.

I think it's interesting that Jesus promises that those who lose their lives for his sake will save them. And Jesus gives to most of his followers marriage, which seems made to help people give up their lives for His sake. That we don't take advantage of this great sacrament is our fault; but when can see that in a good marriage, like the marriage of Mary and Joseph, the husband and wife are always living for each other and for their children. Why else go to work, day after day, probably to a job you don't always love? And why when you' ve had a college education and a taste of working at something you love, give that up to raise your children, to fix the meals, to keep the house up? And why spend money that you could use for an ocean cruise or a new car on the education of your children? In a good marriage, the husband and the wife lose their lives, hopefully for the sake of something greater than themselves.

So to me that's the definition of a great father; someone who willingly gives up his life for his family. And of course it's the definition of a great mother as well. And if they are doing this knowing that they are really doing this for Jesus, then they are saving their lives.

Happy Father's Day to all you guys who are losing your lives to your family. For in doing this you will save your lives.

Eleventh Sunday in Ordinary Time, cycle C

Luke 7:36 – 8:3

In the first reading, the prophet Nathan confronts King David with the fact that the Lord was exceedingly generous towards him, and yet he committed terrible sins: first, adultery with the wife of one of his loyal soldiers; then murder to cover up the first sin. David admits to his sin, and immediately Nathan assures him that even though there will be consequences, namely, that the sword will not depart from his house, and later, that the child of this union will die, God has already forgiven David's sin. And then we hear Paul assuring us that if justification comes through the law, then Christ died for nothing; in other words, we are not forgiven because of the works we do, but because of faith in Christ Jesus.

And then in what seems to be a turn-around, Jesus tells Simon that because this woman has loved much, her sins are forgiven. Jesus seems to be saying that because of her works, she is forgiven, not because of faith. He even compares the love Simon showed with that of the woman, adding to the idea that the more you do, the more you will be forgiven. To confuse matters further, Jesus dismisses the woman by saying “Your faith has saved you, now go in peace.”

Perhaps one of the biggest controversies in Christianity has to do with how we are justified, or forgiven, or saved – however you want to put it. Even in the New Testament there is controversy; much of the Epistle of James seems to have been written to clarify what Paul wrote in Romans. Paul says this: “If Abraham was justified by God for the things he did, he would have reason to boast; but … the scripture says :Abraham believed God, and because of his faith God accepted him as righteous.” But James says, “How was Abraham put right with God? It was when he offered his son Isaac on the altar... You see then it is by his actions that a person is put right with God, not by faith alone.”

And there are other passages on both sides of the issue: Jesus says we are to have faith in the son of man, but in the Gospel of Matthew those who have done good works even not knowing they have been doing them for the Master are justified.

Controversy over how we are saved caused the Protestant reformation. It's interesting that Martin Luther did everything he could to assure himself of salvation, until he had a near nervous breakdown. Afterward he found evidence in scripture that faith in Jesus is all you need; nothing you can do will change that. And Saint Francis de Sales, a few years later, went through the same kind of crisis, but in his case he responded by by becoming a priest, later a bishop, and spending his life doing good works.

To be fair, the Catholic church always taught that faith was necessary for salvation. There are too many verses in scripture, even in James, that make that point. But the issue is really what is meant by the word “Faith”. In Latin there are two terms, Ascentia and Fiducia. Ascentia means that I believe something – for example, I believe that Jesus lived on the earth 2000 years ago and founded a church. You could probably find a lot of people who aren't Christians who could agree with that statement. But Fiducia implies not only belief but also trust, as in “I believe Jesus is my Lord and Savior.” Implied in Fiducia is action.

There are some Protestants who would insist that all you have to do is acknowledge Jesus as your Lord and Savior and you will be saved. And there are, unfortunately, some Catholics who believe the more rosaries you say, the more masses you attend, the more you avail yourself of the sacrament of Penance, the more likely you will be saved. I remember reading about an exchange between a reporter and a man who was very active in his parish and a daily communicant. The reporter said, “You must really love the Lord!” and the man replied, “I don't know about that, but I'm making sure He'll have no excuse to keep me out of heaven.”

I think, though that the majority of Christians – Catholics, Protestants, Orthodox – would agree that a person who claims to be a Christian who does not act like one is not one, regardless of what he says. So you are all saying, “Well and good, but what does that have to do with me?” And I think that's where we all can learn something from this story from the life of Jesus. I identify with Simon; I try to lead a good life and stay out of trouble and do what I need to do to stay on God's good side. But compared to the woman weeping at Jesus feet, I love little. If Jesus needed a meal I'd be happy to make him a sandwhich, even have him over for supper. She on the other hand is demonstrating her love by giving everything – symbolized by the alabaster flask full of precious ointment – symbolized by using her own hair and tears to wash His feet; symbolized by publically weeping over her sins. She loves much.

Recently a young woman of my acquaintance, a successful editor in a Catholic publishing house, joined an order of sisters. She sold her car, donated her clothing, closed her facebook account, got rid of her cell phone, and changed her name. That is loving much.

The twelfth step in Alcoholics Anonymous is an interesting one. It says, “Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these steps, we tried to carry this message to alcoholics and to practice these principles in all our affairs.” It is a recognition that real faith implies putting ourselves out, doing something about what we believe, otherwise, it dies.

So this is a good day to ask the question, how much do I love? Like Simon? Or like the woman?”