Twenty-first Sunday in Ordinary time cycle C

Luke 13:22-30

President Calvin Coolige was approached by a friend of his who was a senator.  The friend was very angry, foaming at the mouth, red in the face.  “Do you know what Senator Barkely said to me?” he exclaimed.  “He told me to go to hell.”  Coolidge looked at him calmly. “Well,” he said, “I’ve read the rule book and you don’t have to.”  

We don’t think about hell very much these days.  Someone I know says that he doesn’t believe in hell because a good God wouldn’t send any of his creatures to eternal fire.  Another person I know says he doesn’t believe in God because the God in the Bible seems to imply that he is going to send people to hell.  And just recently our President Trump speculated that he might be able to get to heaven if he could bring peace to some of the conflicts going on in the world.  He admitted that he was “at the bottom of the totem pole”.  If hell doesn’t exist, why should the Church send out missionaries?  Or for that matter why should there even be a church?

One of John Paul II’s favorite theologians, Hans Urs Von Balthazar, wrote a book called “Dare we hope that all men will be saved?”  IT’s a very dense book, but I think what he said basically is that there has to be a hell, it says so in scripture over and over again; and the possibility is always there for every living person, but who knows what God’s mercy is capable of, and so we can hope that all men will be saved.  Another argument he put forth was that Christ came to save all men, and if he doesn’t, doesn’t that make him a failure?  And God can’t be a failure.  Today, Jesus gives us some insight into this very difficult doctrine for us moderns to accept.

First, he says the kingdom will be difficult to enter.  Our faith is difficult.  A professional musician needs to be disciplined as does a star athlete.  If you are a Christian, there is a cross for you.  The door is open and we are all invited, but some will not accept the invitation.

Second, he notes that the time is short.  Saint Paul urges the Corinthians “now is the acceptable time, now is the day of salvation”. The day is coming when we can’t make the choice anymore.  God gives us freedom to reject his grace.

Third, Jesus tells us that there is no favoritism.  In today’s gospel, those who ate and drank with him and listened to his teaching feel that they have a leg up.  But even membership in the Church is no guarantee, even being a cardinal or the pope is no guarantee.  We can’t get to heaven just because we are insiders.

Fourth, Jesus tells us that we will be surprised by who is in the kingdom and who isn’t.  Some of the people you might think belong in hell will be in heaven and vice versa. 

Some of us think of hell as a place where you stand around being poked by demons with pitchforks and there is a lot of fire.  But various saints have given us some alternative visions.  St. Theresa of Avila, for example, saw hell as a dark place where you were completely alone and couldn’t see, hear, or feel anything except that you had a deep sense of dread.  Saint Francis of Rome in her visions saw hell pretty much as Jesus described it in the story of the Rich Man and Lazerus.  And you can find many other visions on the internet.  Dante, in his epic poem “Inferno” traveled to the bottom of hell where he saw Satan frozen up to the waste in a lake of ice.  Below Satan was heaven, and Satan was beating his wings frantically trying to get away from God, so much so that he kept the lake frozen.  

But there are two other ideas to consider.  One is that there will be people who don’t want what God is offering.  Heaven is like a brilliant light that is painful if you aren’t prepared, because it shows you everything that you have to get rid of to enter the kingdom.  So some will not want heaven, preferring their own darkness.  Another is that hell is a place where you get everything you want -- and you realize, maybe after a few years or hundreds of years, that what you really want, God, you can never have.  

The Church still believes in hell, the possibility that we can be separated for all time from God’s love.  But the Church teaches that God gives us the freedom to choose him, and if we don’t he respects that freedom.   The angels, and I think the bible talks about one third of all the angels who followed Satan into hell, had the opportunity to make that choice once and for all, at their creation.  We have the opportunity to make the choice during our lifetimes.  It’s the most important choice we will ever make.  

20th Sunday in Ordinary Time, cycle C

Luke 12:49 - 53

Saint Thomas More had an exciting career.  He was the son of a lawyer and studied law himself.  He became proficient in Latin and Greek and could read other languages.  His first literary work was the translation of an Italian poem.  Early in life he began ascetic practices like wearing a hare shirt.  He may have been a member of the Third Order of Saint Francis.

More considered becoming a monk, but ultimately married and with his first wife had four children.  He was a member of parliament, an accomplished musician, and a popular author..  He angered King Henry VII  by advocating that parliament not grant the king the exorbitant sum he was asking for to provide a dowry for his daughter.  After that More retired from public life, only to embrace several missions for the new king, Henry VIII. He finally became Lord Chancellor.  From that position, he wrote many books and pamphlets defending Roman Catholicism from Protestantism, which was rampant in England.  In 1530 he broke with the king by refusing to sign a letter to the pope asking that Henry’s marriage be annulled.  He refused to take an oath supporting the king as head of the Church in England,  and that eventually led to his condemnation and execution.  He wrote a letter to his daughter the day before his death, showing her and us that he was totally at peace with his decision.  He had the peace that Jesus gives, the peace not of this world, the peace that surpasses all understanding.

But having that peace did not prevent the divisions that occurred as a result.  And I think that’s an important lesson from the gospel of today.  Jesus elsewhere promises peace to those who accept him as Lord and Savior, but predicts that this will bring division, even in the midst of one’s family.  Jesus’ teaching will automatically cause strife, because those who accept them will draw apart from those who do not.  We see that all around us. Jesus does not desire conflict, but recognizes that people will respond differently to his message, and that will cause conflict. 

When Jesus says he comes to set the earth on fire, he’s talking about transformation -- the sometimes painful process of following him.  Perhaps I should say “always painful”, because when you read the lives of the saints, the choice to follow Jesus always seems to bring about some pain.  It’s ironic that Jesus through his suffering and death gave us the power to transform the world into the Kingdom of Heaven, but history tells us that there will always be opposition to this until the end of the world.  And I guess one question we need to ask ourselves is whether we have experienced pain because of our following Jesus.  Have we ever had to sacrifice a friendship, have we ever had to see a close relative break off a relationship with us, because of our commitment to Jesus?  

Following Jesus comes at a cost.  The Protestant theologian, Dietrich Boenhoffer, talked about the Cost of Discipleship and pointed out that many Christians seek cheap grace -- they expect forgiveness without repentance.  They expect to receive grace from participation in the sacraments without accountability, and they see no need for spiritual growth and personal transformation in order to gain salvation.  Bonhoeffer said that cheap grace was “sold on the marketplace” whereas genuine grace required a wholehearted commitment to transformation;  transformation which would cost something -- maybe even our lives, as it did with Thomas More and indeed with Bonhoeffer, who was executed by the Nazis.  

We have three kinds of Christians - those who are satisfied with cheap grace and go through the motions, expecting that keeping the rules will win salvation.  I hope they are right, because that describes a lot of my friends and relatives - and maybe me.  The second are those who recognize that grace is not cheap, but look outward on those who don’t follow their conception of grace.  These people can point out all the things wrong with your approach to the faith -- sometimes to the point of having nothing to do with those who don’t follow their notion of what is right.  And finally there are a few people who recognize that grace is costly, requiring inner transformation and sometimes great sacrifice in order to be true followers of Jesus -- like Thomas More.

In the first reading, we heard what happened to Jeremiah when he prophesied as God wanted him to.  In the second reading the author urges us not to grow weary and lose heart, but to keep our eyes fixed on Jesus.  And the gospel promises that a sign of costly grace is that it will be opposed.  Today we ask, is my faith able to withstand the opposition of friends and family members?  If I were accused of being a Christian, what proof would there be?  

Eighteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, cycle C

Luke 12:13-21

Picture the scene:  Jesus is teaching a large crowd.  If you look back in Luke’s gospel Jesus has taught his disciples the Lord’s prayer, he’s denounced the Pharisees for laying heavy burdens on their followers; he’s told people that if your eye offends you, pluck it out, because entering the kingdom of heaven with one eye is better than having two eyes in Gehenna.  :Profound stuff.  And in the midst of this, a man asks him to tell his brother to give him his share of the estate.  I wonder if Jesus got the idea for the parable of the prodigal son from this encounter?  Now the issue of who inherited the estate of one’s father was not very clear in the Old Testament - some verses implied that it  was always the oldest son.  Other passages suggest that younger sons had rights as well, and Pharisees had figured out exactly what percentage went to the other sons. . The reasoning for the older son receiving everything  was that he was obligated to assume his father’s position in caring for the family, and in a time when land meant wealth, breaking up the estate was a sure way to make your descendants poor.  So you could argue either way and the man in the crowd was seeking Jesus’ opinion -- nothing unusual there, just seemed an inappropriate time to ask the question.

Jesus' answer is surprising.  Our reading has Jesus call the man "Friend" but the actual word Jesus used was more like “Sir” or “Mister”. Jesus called his mother “woman”” once, as you may remember.  Using such words was a way of saying “I want no part of what you are asking of me.”  Then he turns to the crowd and tells them to guard against all greed, because life is more than possessions. 

This is the introduction to the parable of the rich fool.  He’s been blessed with a bountiful harvest.  A farmer with a surplus would normally sell off what he didn’t need, but our rich man is thinking ahead.  If he can hold on to his newfound wealth, he might be able to sell it for more in the future, so he sets out on a building project -- tear down the old barns, build new ones, bigger ones, and he looks at his wealth - everything, not just the crops, and feels a sense of great satisfaction; he’s got a great nest egg; he can finally retire and live the kind of life he’s dreamed about.  I think Jesus emphasizes the inner selfishness of the man, who speaks to himself.  There is no mention of relatives, of poor people, of things that might be done with some of his surplus, it’s all “me, me, me”.  And as our rich fool sits back in satisfaction, he dies, and someone else will have all that he worked for.  And he has nothing; he is not rich in what mattress to God.

You and I probably don’t know anyone like this caricature Jesus paints.  We know rich people, of course, and some of us are rich in material goods.  And that’s fine.  Even some of Jesus' friends were rich in material goods.  Joseph of Arimathea, who lent Jesus his tomb comes to mind.  Lydia, the dealer in purple dye whose home was one of the first Christian churches according to the Acts of the Apostles.  Some people are blessed with riches and some of them use their wealth for good.  Being rich is not a bad thing.  But what is it that matters to God?  The Bible seems to focus on four things.

The first is faith.  According to Saint Paul, our relationship with God must be based on faith rather than rules, but faith that manifests itself in acts of love toward others.  Faith is a verb; faith is the way a Christian lives.

The second is trust.  For us Catholics we trust that the Church Jesus founded, our Church, knows best.  Because ultimately trust in the Church means trust in the teachings of Christ, because the whole purpose of the Church is to convey those teachings down through the ages.  

The third is compassion.  Jesus makes it abundantly clear that what we do for the least of our brothers we do for him.  How we deal with our fellow man, especially those who are on the margins of society, reflects how we love Jesus.  

The fourth is repentance -- not sorrow for sin as such, but the awareness that everything about our lives matters to God and should matter to us as well.  The slogan “What would Jesus do?” seems almost silly, but it is something we need to ask when we make decisions about even little things.  Again, we need to have the mind of Christ.

When I was little one of the first prayers I was taught went like this:  “Now I lay me down to sleep; I pray the Lord my soul to keep.  And if I die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take”  It’s a good reminder to ourselves not to be like the rich fool Jesus talks about today. A

Seventeenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, cycle C

Luke 11:1-13

Today’s gospel is about prayer.  Jesus gives us a model, a short story, and a promise.  As usual, what appears very straightforward at first becomes mysterious, the more we think about it.  

First, the model.  When you say the prayers of the Mass along with the priest, they often contain ornamental phrases.  Just recall the first prayer of the Mass today: “O God, protector of those who hope in you, without whom nothing has a firm foundation, nothing is holy” -- will God listen to us more if we talk about his attributes?  Kind of a contrast with Jesus’ simple prayer, which is a series of requests.  But the first kind of prayer is more to remind us about how God is, the second implies that we already know God as the giver of good things.  When you look at Jesus' model he’s really asking the Father, or “Daddy” as Jesus often called him -- to take this world of ours and change it into his kingdom.  First, we pray that all will recognize God’s place in the order of things, because the first step in changing the world is to recognize his fatherhood and his holiness.  We then pray that the world recognizes that there is a better way to live, that there is a kingdom that beats all the attempts humans have made to develop governments.  It’s a kingdom where, among other things, everyone gets enough to eat, and by extension, enough to live as humans.  It’s a  terrible thing when there are people in this world who scrounge through garbage every day to find some half-rotten  food and others who take their private planes to a vacation on some Caribbean island.  We ask for forgiveness, recognizing that if we don’t forgive we can’t expect God to forgive.  And we pray for protection from disasters -- from war, from climate change, from disease and death even.  

The second part is the story.  Jesus implies that we have to keep asking.  “For some reason, not at all clear, the story seems to imply that an effective prayer is one that’s repeated, that’s urgent, that reflects how much we want something.  The person in the story who bangs on the door is putting himself out.  He could give up and go home and maybe buy some bread in the morning.  Our ancestors in faith used to combine fasting with prayer; some people still do that.  When you pray, how do you show how much you want what you pray for?  

The third part is the promise -- all prayers will be answered.  Yet our experience, as I mentioned before, is that this isn’t the case.  I’d like my body to stop aging so rapidly.  Ten years ago my joints worked well, I slept through the night, and I could swim in the ocean.  Today, not so.

So why aren’t our prayers answered?  The people Jesus taught would not have asked this question.  They knew the answers from their own history and scriptures.  You and I, though, come up with excuses for God.  We say “Sometimes the answer is no” or “God will answer in due time” or the one I like least of all, “God wanted another angel” which does not console the family of someone who died.  And in a sense, Jesus gives us a reason prayers aren't answered – we aren't persistent.  

But the bible tells us many reasons why prayers are not answered.

First, what we pray for may  not be God’s will. Jesus tells us “Seek first the kingdom of God and all else will be given to you”.

Second, we may have the wrong motives.  If I pray for money so that I can take a vacation, my motive is not right.  James tells us, “When you ask you do not receive, because you act wit the wrong motives…”

Third, sin.  Scripture tells us in several places that unless you turn away from sin, you will not be heard.  For Catholics, sincere confession should precede our prayers of petition. 

Fourth, a proverb says that whoever shuts his ears to the cry of the poor, he himself will not be answered. 

Fifth, we have not forgiven someone.  Jesus tells us that we should leave our gift at the altar and forgive our brother, then our prayers will be heard.

Sixth, and I like this one, God gave me the means to answer my last prayer and I didn’t make use of what he gave me.  

There are several other reasons given in scripture as to why prayers are not answered.  An unanswered prayer should make us reflect on what might be standing in the way.  And Jesus tells us that in the end, he will give us the Holy Spirit to help us pray as we should pray. Saint Paul  says “We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans”.  

Sixteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, cycle C

Luke 10:38-42

Saint Paul in his epistle to the Ephesians has that notorious line, “wives, be subject to your husbands…” and this is considered so controversial that when we read that passage on Sunday, we are allowed to skip over that part.  We don’t want to get wives really mad at Saint Paul.  But the passage we just read is equally disturbing to my wife, at least, who has no problem being subject to me, because I always tell her that whatever she wants, that's fine with me.  But she is very much on Martha’s side.  She knows what it is like to have a crowd in the other room while she cleans up the dishes.  She knows what it is like to hear laughing conversation while she puts the finishing touches on supper.  She knows what it is like to launder all the bedding after we have overnight guests.  She is totally on Martha’s side.  

Sometimes we get the idea that Mary is kind of lazy, avoiding work, while Martha is sweating in the kitchen.  In those days Mary would have been entirely out of place.  When we hear that she is sitting at Jesus' feet, that means that she is taking the place of a disciple, something a woman would never do.  And yet Jesus does not condemn her, rather, he praises her.  So certainly this passage shows that Jesus is very much more open to women than most of his contemporaries.  But still, what about Martha?  It seems that  Jesus is condemning her for worrying about the work she has to do to feed the disciples.  Think of it, 13 dinner guests.  I don’t think Jesus called ahead.  

Martha and Mary both loved Jesus..  IF you remember the story of Lazarus, it was obvious.  And we have that passage where Mary washed Jesus’ feet with her vial of holy oil.  We also remember the story in Luke, where Martha welcomed Jesus into their home.  And yet, Jesus, who undoubtedly loves them both, as well as their brother, Lazarus, seems to be rebuking Martha.

So what is going on?  Martha is trying to do things for Jesus;  Mary is trying to open herself up to what Jesus offers.  That’s the difference.  Martha is well-meaning and the more she can do for him, the better she feels.  Mary recognizes that whatever you do for Jesus, what  he does for you is infinitely greater.  And we should learn an important lesson here.

I think all Catholics who take their faith seriously go through a stage where they feel that their service to the Church in some sense serves Jesus -- and they are right.  CCD teachers, altar servers, lectors, ushers -- and there are so many ways we can serve Jesus, and that is all wonderful.  Our church could not exist without all the Martha’s we have.  Knights of Columbus, members of the Saint Joseph society or the saint Mary’s guild, people in the parish council, people who make the “food for the soul” a reality.  Martha’s everywhere!   Doing wonderful things for Jesus -- and for their fellow man.  But Mary has discovered that receiving what Jesus has to give is even better.  She is sitting at his feet, listening to his teaching; she is basking in his love.  

Jesus never condemns Martha; right there in the acts of the apostles we learn that the early church was very Martha.  The first deacons were appointed because someone needed to distribute the food fairly.  That’s a Martha thing.  And you can get pretty bogged down in doing Martha things, especially when you feel that you are being religious.  All of the Marthas among us have to learn to receive what Jesus wants to give us.

That means we need to sit quietly and listen to his word.  We need to put ourselves before the Blessed Sacrament and allow him to speak to us.  We need to read our bibles and good spiritual books.  We need to pray and contemplate and meditate.  Saint Francis de Sales said, "everyone needs a half hour of prayer a day, except when we are really busy -- then we need a whole hour.”  

Jesus talks about many things which Martha is anxious about -- she wants to do everything for him as well as she can, out of love.  She wants everything to be perfect and won’t stop until it is.  She’s a mess.  But the one thing, the thing Mary knows, is that opening her heart to Jesus and all he wants to give her is the only thing that really matters, and once that connection is made, all things are possible. As Jesus said in another place, “Seek first the kingdom of God, and all else will be given to you.”  This week let’s concentrate on receiving from Jesus what he wants to give us.  

Fifteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, cycle C

 Luke 10:25-37

I’ve been thinking about this parable all week. I’ve come to a few conclusions, One is that the parable has nothing to do with charitable giving. I know some of our congregation give away money or time to help those in need. At tax time, I learned that my dear wife has given away a lot of our money to charities she deems need our help. At God’s judgement I’m going to claim part of that on my behalf. Charitable giving is good. But I don’t think that is Jesus’ point. The other conclusion I reached is that Jesus is not entering into the controversy going on in our country -- the argument that our national government is responsible for the welfare of countries all over the world, even those that hate us. You can be on one side or another, and arguments can be made supporting both points of view, but that’s not what Jesus is talking about. Another related conclusion is that Jesus is not talking about degrees of charity. Saint Augustine, and our vice president J.D. Vance both argue that we owe charity first and foremost to family, then those close to us, then to the citizens of our town, and so forth. Coming in last is what we owe to people in Bangladesh, or Somalia, or Haiti. It’s interesting that this is not just Saint Augustine and J.D. Vance, but was a well established principle in Jewish circles in Jesus’ time -- you can find it laid out in the book of Leviticus. And in Second Corinthians, Paul makes it clear that those who contribute to the support of the Christians in Jerusalem shouldn’t do so at the expense of their own families. The Bible can support the idea that Charity begins at home.

So why is Jesus telling us this parable? Imagine that you were in his audience. You know about the road from Jerusalem to Jericho. It’s best to travel in a group, and do your traveling during daylight hours. To be beaten and robbed on the road is not uncommon. YOu identify with that guy lying in the ditch semi-conscious and bleeding. And Jesuis starts his story kind of like some of our jokes. I’m sure you’ve heard jokes that begin with “A priest, a minister and a rabbi…” IN Jesus’ time the common man was a little bit resentful of the priests, who got paid from temple taxes, and of Levites, who were entitled to a share of the harvest because they were Levites. Priests and Levites, by the way, were hereditary positions. So in the Jewish mind, there are three categories -- Priest, Levite, and Israelite. And the expectation is that after the priest and Levite cross to the other side, an ordinary Israelite will come along and play the hero. As Jesus’ audience listens, they think they know where he is going -- he’s putting those priests and Levites in their place. But the surprise is the Samaritan -- practically a pagan, definitely a heretic, and worst of all, not descended from Jacob.

We don’t know why the priest and Levite cross over to the other side. Jesus didn’t tell us. Some people think it’s about ritual cleanliness. Whatever it was, the question in the minds of the priest and LEvite is “IF I stop to help, what will happen to me?” That’s natural, it rises from our unconscious mind; it says “Don’t get involved”. It makes excuses -- “Maybe the ones who robbed him are hiding and waiting for someone to come along”. It’s very natural.

The Samaritan, of course, is the hero. That’s a big surprise to JEsus’ listeners. But the question in the Samaritan’s mind is “If I don’t stop to help, what will happen to him”. Jesus is always preaching about changing the way you think, or as it’s mistranslated, repentance. The Samaritan is not thinking about what will happen to him. He has a “new mind”.

And maybe some in Jesus' audience ask a third question ""If I don’t stop to help, what will become of me?” And we all know people like that, people who are locked inside themselves, people who believe in a dog-eat-dog world, people who are interested first and foremost in getting what’s coming to them. And most of us don’t want to be like that, but we fail to realize that not stopping to help is a step toward that state of being. If we do something or fail to do something it pushes us in a certain direction. It becomes easier the next time, and soon it’s a habit. It is always safer and easier to make excuses and promise ourselves that maybe next time we’ll do better.

Jesus’ point is that we are all on the Jericho road, and all of us are in danger. We need each other, whether we like it or not. We all need mercy, but to be really human we need to be merciful as well. And Jesus wants us to be fully human, to live as we were created to live -- in the image and likeness of God.

I think it’s interesting that the Samaritan does just enough to change the fate of the man in the ditch. He doesn't bring him home and invite him to live with him; he doesn’t pour oil and wine into his wounds and leave someone else to do the rest. He models true mercy -- to do just enough, no more, no less, to restore the man’s humanity. So who is our neighbor? The one we meet who needs something I can give. In another place Jesus tells us who that is: “the least of our brothers” and at the same time, Jesus himself.

Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, cycle C

Luke 10:1-12, 17-30

In the gospels of Matthew, Mark and Luke, there is a scene where Jesus sends out his apostles two by two to preach and proclaim the kingdom.  In Luke, that’s in chapter 9.  Today’s reading is only in Luke, and it’s chapter ten, shortly after the commissioning of the apostles.  So who are these 72 that he sends out?  Jesus wasn’t thinking about missionaries as such, people who dedicate their lives to spreading the gospel.  His 72 were people who had been following him and had taken his message to heart.  These 72 are you and I.

Notice also that he sends them to where he intends to go.  We baptized and confirmed Catholics have an advantage over the 72; we are part of the Body of Christ; where we go, He is already there with us.  

And there is an urgency; we are to get moving.  I had a friend who was a presbyterian minister.  He told me a presbyterian minister joke, namely that when they went to found a church, they had to wait for the railroads to be finished, because only then could they bring along their libraries.  The methodists, on the other hand, stuck a  bible in their saddlebags ind got going.  And when the presbyterians finally  arrived at their destination, they usually would find an active methodist congregation.  

Jesus understands human nature; he tells us we will b e like lambs among wolves.  IF we are going to be in that much danger, it follows that we might as well take nothing with us, and depend on God alone.  To me that means that we should be prepared to evangelize at any moment -- you never know when an opportunity will come.  Now there is an important point to be made;  evangelization is not the same thing as catechesis.  Catechesis is teaching the truths of our faith -- the ten commandments, the creed, the Our Father, the seven sacraments.  You can spend a lifetime learning these truths; they are mysterious, and the more you know, the more you want to know.  Large books have been written about the Trinity, the Eucharist, and in fact every truth of our faith.  Even theologians don’t know it all.  

But evangelization is very different. Each of us can grasp this right away;  The Greek word for this is Kerygma, which means “proclamation”.

When we evangelize we tell someone that God loves them and has a plan for their life; that sin will destroy your life; that Jesus died to save us from sin, death and hell, and that they are called to repent (which means change the way you think) and believe this.  In our own words we disciples of Jesus are supposed to be proclaiming this to everyone we meet.  That doesn’t mean we go around making those statements; pretty soon no one would want anything to do with us.  But we keep in mind the goal of the encounter --- to get people to recognize that Jesus is the answer.  And the sad thing is, despite our efforts, most will not listen -- at least this time.  But a seed has been planted.  In the gospel Jesus predicts that there will be some who are really open to the proclamation, and others who will be hostile.  Fine.  You’ve done your part, you’ve told them something about the fact that the kingdom of God is at hand.  Now move on.  

Jesus sends his disciples in pairs.  I grew up around Mormons and I always admired the fact that they consider it an obligation to go on mission.  Mission can take many forms, but the one we are most familiar with is to meet two young men, or nowadays, a young man and a young woman, or two young women, knocking at our door.  It’s a lot easier to evangelize with a companion.  Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we Catholics took this commission of Jesus to heart, and devoted some time to  door to door ministry?  Doors would be slammed in our faces, or course, but now and then we’d come across someone ripe for coming into a relationship with Jesus.  But married couples can be very effective evangelists to their children and to their friends.  

Jesus has given us power, just as he gave his disciples power.  We all know people who make us feel better about ourselves.  That’s a power.  We respond to holiness in others.  

And if we study today’s gospel, we see a really good reason to be evangelists -- our names will be written in heaven;  Don’t you want that for yourself?

So evangelize.  It’s not rocket science.  I know a young lady who has a great way of evangelizing;  she sits in a public place and says the rosary.  Now and then someone comes along and wants to know what she’s doing, or says “I’m a Catholic also”. And a conversation starts, and she eventually works in some simple truth, like “God loves you” in the conversation.  No instant conversion, just a little push; and maybe a soul is saved.