Brendan McGuire was born in Bray, Co Wicklow. He worked in IT in the USA before being ordained in 2000 and is now pastor in San Jose, California. Here he shares his Sunday homilies for the year when Matthew’s gospel is read. We have chosen his homelies for the six Sundays of Lent.
pp. 144. The Columba Press. To purchase this book online go to www.columba.ie
CONTENTS
Introduction
INTRODUCTION
I believe that God’s ways are mysterious yet understandable, hidden yet knowable, and divine yet human. In the struggle to understand God’s ways we need to reflect on his role in our lives. We need to take the time to listen to him speak through the daily events of our lives. The only way we experience life is through our human and fragile efforts, and so, it is in the midst of the ordinariness of life that I believe God speaks to us. He speaks loudly yet clearly if ‘we have ears to hear’.
Throughout the gospels, Jesus speaks in parables that are enigmatic, yet comprehensible; his meaning is oncealed, yet intelligible; the knowledge he shares emanates from God, yet is for us with our human fallibility and frailty. Our task is to listen to God’s Word, and then reflect on how his Word relates to our ordinary everyday lives.
The title of this book was inspired by the Parable of the Sower of Seeds, from Matthew 13. The seed of the Word of God is proclaimed every week at Mass throughout the world, but we still do not fully understand the power of God’s Word in our lives. This book is the third in a series of three. Nearly all of these homilies were delivered, in person, to communities of faith in San Jose and Santa Clara, California.
My hope is that the stories in this book will help those of you who read them find a place in your soul to plant the seed of God, and that somewhere, at some time, on your journey through life, you will allow God to water this seed and bring it to fruition. May God bless your reflection and the ‘planting of the seed’.
1st Sunday of Lent: The ‘Master Key’ to Life
Deuteronomy 26:4-10; Psalm 91; Romans 15:1-11; Luke 4:1-13
Years ago, growing up in Ireland, we had some room keys that were huge – at least eight inches long and weighing at least a pound! There was no way you could lose those keys. Since then, keys have gotten much smaller and we even have ‘non-key’ keys. An example is that of hotel guest keys – they are a piece of plastic similar to a credit card that slides through the lock, giving you a green light to enter. Another example is remote control keys for car doors. You do not even need to touch the car to get in. And if you lose your remote control or spare keys, they have this system called ‘On Star’ which allows you to call the main office and from satellite they remotely open your car door. Wow! We have come a long way indeed with keys.
When I arrived at this parish, I was given two keys. One key opened all the doors to the parish buildings and the other key opened all the school doors and the gym. Pretty cool! Just two keys open all the doors! What are those keys called? Yes, they are called ‘master keys’ and they are designed to open a slew of doors, each having their own separate locks. Usually, these ‘master keys’ are only given to a select few!
Well, God has given all of us the ‘master key’ of life and with it we can open up any door we want. This key is not given to only a select few but to all. It is called freedom or free will. While the master key opens up many doors, not all doors are created equal. Indeed, behind many doors are things that are not necessarily good for us. The temptation is to open up whatever door feels good. And each of us will be tempted to open different doors!
In today’s gospel, Jesus was tempted to open up the doors of power and glory. First, the devil challenges Jesus to show him his power. ‘Just change this stone into bread’ the devil teases. Flex his power and authority by showing off! The devil then offers him all the tangible power of this world in exchange for Jesus to worship Satan for just a moment! Just turn away for a moment and all the power could be his. Lastly, the devil challenges Jesus again to throw himself off the building and allow God’s angels to save him. ‘Don’t you trust in your God? the devil challenges Jesus. Again, show off his power for a quick demonstration!
Today, I have received the keys to the parish as a symbol of the power and authority of my office as Pastor. The temptation will always be there to open some doors that ought to remain closed. The temptation will be there to show off my power and authority. My promise today to you, the community of Holy Spirit, is to come to you and talk about the doors we will open together. Together we will decide in prayer, what doors ought to be opened. Some doors that have been closed a long time may need to be opened and some doors that have been open a long time may need to be closed. Together, in prayer, we can decide how we use our master key (1).
We are all tempted to open up the doors of power and glory. They are not the same doors that tempted Christ, such as changing a stone into bread. Instead, we might be tempted to open different doors of power. We all have power over someone in our lives. Those of us who work in the corporate world know that we have power over those who work for us or with us. We can make their working lives heaven or hell depending upon how we treat them in the office environment. The temptation is to abuse that power for our own good, to demonstrate to others that we have power over them. Christ experienced this same temptation.
Those of us who are parents have power over our children. We can make their lives miserable or happy, if we want. We can abuse the privilege of our authority by opening the door of selfishness, feeding our own personal needs. Children, we have power over our parents, some more than others! We can make our parents’ lives miserable or happy especially our elderly parents. We have a lot of power and authority, and which door we open will determine how they experience us. We have power over our friends in the way we treat them. We can open the door of selfishness, servicing our personal needs while giving little attention to their needs. We have power and authority with everyone with whom we have a relationship. We are all tempted to open doors that ought to remain closed.
During these days of Lent, we are invited to open three new doors: the doors of prayer, fasting, and almsgiving. They are interconnected doors that lead to one another. We are encouraged to open up the door of prayer so we can listen to how the Lord is guiding us in our lives. Then through sacrifice or fasting we can understand the plight of others and be inspired to give to others in need. Yes, we are called to open these new doors of prayer, fasting and almsgiving and keep the doors of temptation closed. We have the master key that opens every door, but it is up to us to choose the door. If we feel we have lost the master key, then we call on God to remotely open up the door through prayer. Today, which door will we open with our master key?
Note:
1. This Mass was presided by the Bishop and was the installation of the author as Pastor.
2nd Sunday of Lent: In the quiet God whispers to us
Genesis 12:1-4, Psalm 33; 2 Timothy 1:8-10; Matthew 17:1-9
Some months ago, the renowned liturgical music composer from Ireland, Fr Liam Lawton, gave a concert here at the parish. In the session, he explained a song he wrote in honour of the September 11th victims called ‘In the Quiet.’ He said that life has become increasingly busier each day, yet there is a greater need to search for the deeper meaning in our lives. There is so much noise and bustle that hinders our yearning to listen to the gentle voice of God. There are times, he said, when we yearn to hide away in places and spaces of quiet, to hear that quiet whispering. We have to recognise our need for that quiet space.
In today’s gospel, we hear Jesus invite Peter, James, and John to the quiet space on the top of a mountain, a place to spend some time with God in prayer. Jesus often spent time away from everyone, alone in prayer with his heavenly Father. He teaches his disciples the way to prayer, while also revealing his true identity as the Son of God. On the mountain top, the disciples have such a powerful experience that Peter wants it to last forever – he wants to build a tent for Jesus, Moses, and Elijah, symbolising Christ the Messiah, the fulfilment of both the Law (Moses) and the Prophets (Elijah). Peter did not want the experience to stop. Yet Jesus showed them that they must go back down and be busy with the work of the Lord, serving others. Yet the experience forever marks their life. They realise that they must seek God in the quiet.
We, too, ought to realise that we must seek God in the quiet. We are called to pray especially in this Lenten season. I believe that we need to search for a place or space of silence in which to pray. Maybe it is at the beginning of the day before we head off to work or our day’s activities. Maybe it is at the end of the day before we go to bed. Maybe it is on the drive to work in which we can turn off the radio and grasp the silence. Maybe it is waiting for an appointment. Whenever it is, this Lent we can seek God in the silence and hear his quiet whisperings. Maybe we can seek God in the quiet. Now, we can listen to that song (1).
Note:
1. Liam Lawton, ‘In the Quiet’ (Chicago, 11: GIA Publications Inc, 2002) CD-524, track 1.
3rd Sunday of Lent: I and Thou
Exodus 17:3-7; Psalm 95; Romans 5:1-2, 5-8; John 4:5-42
In 1923, the Jewish theologian, Martin Buber, wrote his famous book called I and Thou. The main point of Buber’s book is that there are two ways of relating to other people in our lives: We can see them as objects – what Buber calls the ‘I-it’ relationship; or we can see others as having feelings, dreams, and needs like our own – what Buber calls the ‘I-thou’ relationship.
In his memoirs, Buber tells the story of how he came to this theory. When he was a professor of philosophy at a university in Germany, a young student came to see him with a problem. The student had received his draft notice to serve in the German army in World War I. He was a pacifist by nature and did not want to kill in battle, but he was also a fiercely loyal and patriotic German. He asked Buber what he should do: serve his country and kill against his conscience or claim conscientious objector status and perhaps allow another young man to be killed in his place.
Buber was in the midst of writing a difficult theological-philosophical treatise, and was rather upset at the interruption of his time. The professor snapped at the young man with something like, ‘Yeah, that’s a serious dilemma; do what you think is right.’ And he went right back to his work.
The young man, in despair for lack of guidance, committed suicide. Buber, for the rest of his life, felt a measure of guilt for not being more present to the young man in need, for seeing him only as an interruption and not as a human soul in torment. Buber felt he had sinned against the image of God in that young student by treating him as an object without needs or feelings (1).
It is so easy to treat others as objects, to measure their worth not by who they are but by what they are able to do for us. We sometimes treat others as objects and not like human beings. We can often see this in the way we treat clerks at stores or waiter / waitresses or busboys at restaurants or those who clean our homes or tend our gardens or those who disagree with us politically or morally. We can also see it in the way we treat our spouses, parents, children, coworkers, neighbours, or community members. We often treat them as objects of usefulness demanding all sorts of unreasonable things and not recognising that they are humans with feelings, too.
The Samaritan woman in today’s gospel is one such victim. Her gender, religious background, and nationality made her a non-person in the eyes of Judaism. Her lifestyle made her despicable in her own town. But instead of treating her as an object, Jesus treated her as a human being and offered her the living water of life, calling forth from her a sense of faith and joy. In this faith and joy, she was able to face her own life and she immediately shared the joy and faith with others. Seeing this extraordinary gift of faith, others from the town came to believe in Jesus for themselves.
This weekend we will witness the first of the Lenten scrutinies for the elect and candidates who are joining our Catholic faith. We witness them as our brothers and sisters in faith on their journey. We sometimes consider the RCIA (Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults) as a programme for others, as if to treat these seekers of faith as objects in a procedure. Instead, we are called to recognise the importance of these days for them and encourage them in faith and joy. We do this by sharing our own faith and joy in all we do for them. We do this by being human bearers of Christ’s mystery. But our role does not stop there. We are called to share our faith and joy with everyone we meet each day, whether the store clerk, janitor, gardener, or family member. Remember, we will be judged on how we treat the least of our brothers and sisters.
So, as we come to this table today and receive this living water of faith, may we also take this living water to everyone we meet. May we not treat others like objects that serve our purpose, whether it be the store clerk, waiter, or family member, but instead treat them as humans with feelings. Today, we share our faith and joy by bringing the living water to everyone we meet.
Note:
1. ‘Connections’ (Mediaworks, Londonderry, NH: February, 2005)
4th Sunday of Lent: Bright lights of Christ
1 Samuel 16:1, 6-7,10-13; Psalm; Ephesians 5:8-14; John 9:1-41
I recently had the opportunity to drive on a very straight freeway, where one could see ahead and behind for miles. As I travelled along, I could see this car in the distance driving very slowly in the fast lane with a line of cars behind it. Every driver handled the situation slightly differently and some would do it faster than others. Basically, each car would drive up behind, quite close, and then eventually pass on the inside. When I got to her and passed her, she was driving about 40mph. The extraordinary thing was that she was completely oblivious to the whole thing, not recognising the commotion she had caused. She was blind to the line of cars behind her backed up in traffic. She was blind to all the cars in front of her as they cut her off. She was even blind to all the drivers as they waved to her as they drove by! She was blind to everything. She just hummed along in that fast lane, content in her world and nothing seemed to disturb her world. The only thing that caught her attention was a police car that came right up behind her and turned on the lights to pull her over. I am sure that she got a citation or, at the very least, a warning.
I think our lives can be very much like that. We are content to hum along in the fast lane of our life, completely blind to the whole world around us. We are blind to the struggles that our wife is having with the kids at home. Or we are blind to the issues that our husband is having with people at work. Or we are blind to the peer pressure that our children are having at school. Yes, we are content to hum along in the fast lane of life until someone pulls us over and chews us out. Maybe it is our spouse, child, or parent. Then we realise that we were blind to the real issues at hand.
If I asked you what the gospel story was about today, most of you would say that it was about a man born blind. Actually, he was just a character in the story and the gospel today was about blindness. The blindness pertained not to the man born blind, but to the religious leaders of the day. Okay, they had physical sight but they refused to see the obvious around them. The people were backed up in ‘traffic’ behind them and people cut them off in front. But they still refused to see. Indeed, even Jesus, the light of the world, came right up behind them and shone his bright light upon them. But they remained blind. They remained blind to the plight of the people in their day. Nothing would disturb them as they hummed along on their narrow path.
Rarely are many of us totally blind. But I think that most of us are a little blind to some of the struggles of those who surround us. Most of us are content to hum along in the fast lane of life, not recognising the struggles of others, not wanting to be disturbed by the commotion going on around us. Maybe we are blind to the struggle of our child, spouse, or parent. Maybe it is the pain of so many of our neighbours who are currently unemployed or underemployed. Maybe it is the pain of someone we know who has recently gone through a divorce or a broken relationship. Or maybe it is the burden of so many of the world’s population, oppressed by economic or violent circumstances. Yes, we are content to hum along in the fast lane of life, content in the isolation of our comforts, remaining blind to the struggles of the world.
Well, this season of Lent is a time when the Lord comes up behind us and puts on his bright lights to pull us over. He tells us to watch the traffic of our lives and pay attention to those around us. He gives us a warning to stop our mindless driving! We are not to remain blind to the whole world. Lent is a time for us to reflect more deeply upon our actions and how they impact others. So, today and this week, may we take the time to allow the Lord to pull us over and shine his bright light into the darkness of our lives, to allow the Lord to guide us out of our darkness and into his wonderful light, to allow the Lord to snap us out of our mindless driving. Today, may we pay attention to those around us and not remain blind.
5th Sunday of Lent: Untie them and let them go
Ezekiel 37:12-14; Psalm; Romans 8:8-11; John 11:1-45
There once was an old couple who decided to have a garage sale to get rid of all the excess stuff they had in their home. Among the items they put up for sale was an old mirror they had received many years before as a wedding gift. Because of its rather ugly blue-coloured plastic frame, they never found a place in their house where it looked good. Even though it had been in the garage for years, they really did not want to sell it because it was a wedding gift from a close friend. However, its disposal was long overdue and so they put it among the items to be sold. During the sale, a young man saw the old mirror and called his wife over to examine it. They fell in love with it and quickly purchased it at a bargain price.
The old couple helped load the mirror into to the new owners’ truck at which time they overheard the new owners chatting. ‘Look at this beautiful mirror!’ said the husband, ‘It even still has its protective cover on the frame!’As he peeled off the ugly blue plastic protective covering, it revealed a beautiful gold-leaf frame. The old couple was in shock as they realised they had a treasure, wrapped up in plastic, for years in their garage (1).
When we are born into this world, we are all treasures to behold. We are all a gift from God. But often we do not take the opportunity to unwrap our ‘plastic covering’ and discover the true gifts that we really are. We often add to the wrapping of our lives and bind ourselves with some destructive behaviour, possession, or obsession. We can let our anger, disappointment, pain, sadness, cynicism, and despair bind us up and bury us in tombs of isolation. We decide early in our lives that we lack value, and then live in that reality, often entombing ourselves into the ‘garage of life’. We also assess the value of others early on, and often relegate their status to ‘less than valuable’. We categorise them as people who ‘talk too much’, ‘are too full of themselves’, ‘are too talented for their own good’, ‘are not smart or not good-looking enough’, or simply ‘we don’t like’. Often, we bind them with anger, unforgiveness, or jealousy and we refuse to let them out of the tombs that we have made for them.
Our Lenten journey challenges us to act otherwise. It is a time for conversion of our hearts and minds. It is a time for us to examine the way we view ourselves and others. It is a time to unwrap the ‘plastic’ of our lives and others’ lives to reveal the full potential of us and them. It is a time to unbind ourselves, and others, setting us free from our judgements, prejudices or biases.
In today’s gospel we hear about the death and rising of Lazarus. Jesus says ‘Lazarus, come out! Untie him and let him go.’ He reveals himself as the ‘resurrection and the life’. He promises that whoever believes in him will have eternal life. To each of us who believe, he says ‘Come out, let yourselves go! Come out and let others go too! Untie yourselves from your bands of lack of self-worth and let yourselves go! Untie others from the bands of your anger, unforgiveness, and jealousy. Unwrap people from the plastic covering into which you have trapped them and let them go free from the entombment of your judgements. Today, let yourselves, and others, go free.’
Note:
1. Adapted from story in ‘Connections’ (Mediaworks, Londonderry, NH: March, 2005)
Passion Sunday: God is always there
Isaiah 50:4-7; Psalm 22; Philippians 2:6-11; Matthew 26:14-66
Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me;
yet, not as I will, but as you will.
Yes, we know that Jesus Christ is truly divine. But rarely do we see the humanity of Jesus more evident than in today’s powerful passion narrative. These words of Jesus show the anguish that he feels as he faces his moment of pain and death. We can hear the human emotions of agony in the garden. This moment in the garden shows the depth of the human suffering he was to endure. Yet the human Jesus accepted this pain and suffering so that the whole world would know that God loves them. Jesus accepts the will of the Father not to glamorise pain or suffering but to personally inform us that there is life beyond pain and death.
Lest we romanticise this moment ourselves as something divine and pious, let us put ourselves in Jesus’ shoes as a fellow human being. Let us identify with those overwhelming human feelings. To do so I think it is more helpful if we imagine it through the eyes of someone watching a loved one in pain. Just for a moment, imagine that it is not Jesus but your own human father or mother in agony on the cross. See the pain, suffering and anguish. It is your father or mother and you cannot bear to see it anymore. But feel the pain and know that pain. Their pain is so overwhelming to watch that it nearly pierces your own flesh. Our reaction is almost universal – we want to stop the suffering. Yes, the first thing we want to do is relieve it.
But this human reality exists among us here and now. It is hard to watch as your young son or daughter suffers from cancer, desperately holding onto life by a string. It is hard to watch as your mother or father suffers in their old age from dementia or other debilitating illnesses. It is hard to watch as your friend or family member suffers from depression when they cannot find a job or recover from a broken relationship. Yes, it is hard to watch as others suffer or as we suffer. In every community there are people in pain and suffering, in their agony of the garden of their lives, or on the cross experiencing pain beyond imagination. We have in our community such a mother and father watching their son. We have such a son and daughter watching their father. We have such family members watching their friends.
However, the message that Jesus Christ gives us through his passion is not so much about pain and death, as much as it is about the hope in and beyond the suffering. God will never abandon us. God will always be there, especially in the midst of the pain. So, if we are watching a loved one in pain or suffering or are ourselves in pain, know that God will never abandon us. God is always there.
