Sunday, February 19, 2012

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Homily for the 7th Sunday of Ordinary Time

Readings: Is 43:18-25; 2 Cor 1:18-22; Mk 2:1-12

The current issue of America magazine carries a small article on the religious practices of young people (the millennial generation - those born after 1982). Much of the information is pretty predictable. Only 18% admit to any kind of religious affiliation or practice—down from the 58% it was during World War II. Where the article got interesting was when it began to suggest reasons for this minimal religious involvement. The usual culprits were not discussed: the sex abuse crisis; hypocrisy in the Church, boring liturgy, and so on. Instead the author described what some of the campus ministers at his university had discovered through intense small group experiences with the students: the students wanted nothing to do with religion because they felt unworthy to approach God or anything religious. The problem wasn’t with the Church; the problem was inside themselves. They began with the presupposition that God wouldn’t have anything to do with a wretch like me! Here’s a comment of one of the college students: "Hey, Father, how come before we get Communion we say that thing about not being worthy? That really sucks. So many kids today don’t feel worthy of anything. Why reinforce it right when we’re receiving Communion?" (Feb. 13, 2012, p. 22) That’s a different take on things. You have to begin by helping the students to recognize their own personal worth and dignity.

Aside from causing me some reassessment about the social situation of young people today, this anecdote also made me realize how similar are the readings in today’s liturgy to the situation of these young adults today! The scripture writers are hammering away at trying to get people to realize their "worthiness" before God. It’s almost like the writers begin with the presupposition that people start with the notion that God could never find them "worthy." But the Scriptural message is clearly: God finds you worthier than you could ever imagine, than you could ever find yourself.

In the first reading today the prophet Isaiah pounds home the point, "Remember not the events of the past." Don’t be chained down by your past life. "See, I am doing something new." You have to open your eyes to different possibilities. The prophet makes God say clearly: "It is I, I, who wipe out your offenses." In other words, you aren’t the measure of whether you are worthy or not. God is, and God says that you are worthy. Five hundred years later St. Paul tries to get a similar message into the minds of the Corinthian community. He writes, "God is faithful. His opinion doesn’t waver. In Jesus Christ it is once and for all Yes—towards us." God’s attitude towards us is forever forgiving and accepting. The Christian faith begins right there. If you don’t have that as a basis, you won’t understand anything that follows in a fully correct way.

That’s the message we would need to start with in framing an evangelizing message for those young adults mentioned above. But it’s not just the young who need to hear the message of God’s acceptance; there are lots of older people who need to hear it as well. Sadly, that message has been there clearly and openly for all Catholics to hear for the last fifty years....but it’s not getting communicated very well. I’ve often thought that one of the greatest achievements of the Second Vatican Council was its clear affirmation that human beings are created in the image of God (G & Sp ##12-14), that bodiliness and intellect and conscience are all intrinsically good because they were created good by God (##15-16). We all have a dignity given to us by God. True, we need to struggle to live up to it, but that God-given dignity is the starting point where we need to begin.

Sunday, February 12, 2012

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Homily for the 6th Sunday of Ordinary Time

Readings: Lev 13:1-2,44-46; 1 Cor 10:31-11:1; Mk 1:40-45

One of the things I’ve noticed during my forty-five years of priestly ministry is the large number of people who have been deeply touched by the story of Fr. Damien of Molokaii. His selfless devotion to the lepers of that Hawaiian island lifted many others to acts of devotion to people in deep need. Even if they didn’t go that far, the dedication of Fr. Damien to give himself to care for "hopeless cases" inspired real admiration in people.

Part of Fr. Damien’s mystique lay in the disease of leprosy itself. For three thousand years leprosy was a hideous scourge on human society; it was part of the dark underbelly of the human race. Lepers created an almost irrational fear in other people. To see those leprous faces with prominent features (like the nose, lips, cheeks) grotesquely disfigured and eaten away by the disease left people in deep fear for long periods of time. They avoided lepers like the plague. There have always been some individuals willing to treat lepers—to house them, clothe them and feed them (and we can justifiably count many medieval Benedictine houses in this regard), but most of society shunned lepers with a great fear. Leprosy touched the deepest anxieties inside human hearts and minds. (Since modern medical drugs have controlled leprosy since the middle of the 20th century most of us have no living memory of what a scourge and social excommunication leprosy was.)

For our purpose we just need to know that when Jesus steps forward and touches the leper who has begged him for a cure, he’s bucking what is already close to a thousand year tradition (or taboo) with that powerful fear and shunning emotion already in place. But that’s the style of Jesus’ ministry; he is so completely devoted to the sick and the needy that nothing else matters. That’s a gift which has to be sustained and renewed over and over again. We see that in the close connection between Jesus’ healing ministry and prayer. In today’s gospel there is only a veiled connection between prayer and healing, but in other gospel stories the connection is clearly shown. When Jesus heals, he prays. In a famous episode later on in the Gospel of Mark the disciples try to heal a child afflicted with demonic possession and they cannot do it. They ask Jesus about it. He tells them that this kind can only be driven out by prayer. (Mk 9:29) Prayer strengthens the healer.

That connection between healing and prayer as the strength of the healer continues to the present day. If we are going to be healers, then we desperately need the prayer that provides inner strength. I’m using the word "healing" in the broadest possible sense. Anyone who tries to assist another person in their pain and suffering is involved in "healing"—whether that involves dosing medications, changing dressings or just sitting quietly by the bedside. Any healer needs prayer for himself or herself. That’s true of all of us. The healer needs strength from beyond because what is being faced here is ultimately the fear of nothingness. We may not be immediately aware of that while sitting quietly in a hospital room, but "nothingness" is the great beast that lies just behind the curtain. Against that beast of nothingness stands the Resurrection of Jesus. The Resurrection of Jesus centers our hope on eventual victory, on God’s love prevailing over all else. Prayer reminds us of that Resurrection. The purpose of prayer here is to unite us with Resurrection hope.

I’m sure that we all know someone (maybe it’s ourselves) who is now serving as a healer to someone else. Let’s take a moment to pray for them, to pray that above all else the Resurrection hope of Jesus will always be in their minds and hearts.

Sunday, February 5, 2012

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Homily for the 5th Sunday of Ordinary Time

Readings: Job 7:1-7; 1 Cor 9:16-23; Mk 1:29-39

While each of today’s readings possesses a compelling aspect to develop into a homily, I’ve chosen the gospel story of the cure of Peter’s mother-in-law. I suppose I chose that because my interest was recently piqued by a homily commentary I read that expressed how terrible it was that the mother-in-law winds up serving the guests right after she has been cured. She should be the center of the whole celebration rather than taking care of others. Of course, that homily commentary misses much about the gospel passage itself. You can’t read or interpret the story according to our own cultural presuppositions. It’s not meant to be a literal story in itself; rather it’s a story that presents an outline for catechesis. The healing of the mother-in-law, which serves as a model for how each of us is healed by Jesus’ resurrection, shows that resurrection/salvation is followed by showing our thanks through ministry and service. We have been healed and saved, yes, and our proper response is to serve God’s holy People.

In no place is that connection brought out more clearly than in the Epilogue of John’s gospel. There, after the Resurrection, Jesus says to Peter, "Do you love me?" To which Peter responds, "Yes, Lord, you know I love you." And Jesus says simply, "Feed my lambs!" Two more times the same dialogue repeats itself with similar responses: "Tend my sheep," "Feed my sheep." (21:15-17) This is one aspect which has attracted the almost universal interest of scholars: why is there such a stressing of ministry and service in all the Resurrection accounts? Ordinarily that dimension shouldn’t be stressed. For such an earth-shattering event as the Resurrection, the narrative should focus on the wonder and astonishment of it all. The tendency should be to go on and on in praise of the miraculousness of this event. But the texts don’t do that. Rather they show evidence of what I mentioned earlier: they are narratives that present an outline for catechesis. The teacher is to take each of these elements and expand them into proper dimensions of Christian life.

What comes across clearly in all these accounts is the necessity of service as the proper response to the salvation we have received in Jesus’ Resurrection. That’s also the message of the healing of Peter’s mother-in-law. She exemplifies perfectly the Christian message: service follows Resurrection. Herein is given one of the unique aspects of Christianity as a Faith, an aspect shown in all the Resurrection accounts and mirrored in many other gospel stories afterwards. Resurrection calls forth service. Now, the one thing that essentially connects the two is that Resurrection faith itself was discovered within real acts of sharing and service.

That means that the true reality of the disciples as faithful followers of Jesus (as a community) could only be fully recaptured by imitating that process of sharing service. The full Christian faith possesses an intrinsic dynamism that it be shared. It can’t be private or individual. Christianity is a sharing, serving faith and Peter’s mother-in-law shows that perfectly.

This detour into theology and scripture research helps us better understand the dynamics of the Peter’s mother-in-law story, but it also serves as an examination of conscience for us right now.

In the perspective of this particular gospel story our very Christian faith is measured by our service to others. We all should take a hard look at ourselves and ask: what is the service that defines my Christian faith?

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

Sunday, January 29, 2012

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Homily for the 4th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Readings: Deut 18:15-20; 1 Cor 7:32-35; Mk 1:21-28

I can imagine what it might be like if we would gather here on a Sunday morning and someone would come in and say, "I received this letter from the Apostle Paul, the one who got everybody so excited a couple months ago. He says the letter should be read to everyone." So, everyone settles down and the reader begins, "Brothers and Sisters, I should like you to be free of anxieties." Now, I can’t possibly hazard what the response might have been in Paul’s day, but in my own time I imagine the reaction would be an uneasy silence and finally somebody whispers, ‘you and me both.’ Most people today would settle with a significant reduction in anxieties; being totally free of anxieties is way too much to ask.

Besides Paul’s magnificent hope, we today would probably also take issue with the various examples he offers: a husband and wife who spend too much time doting over each other; young adult men and women who are just swamped with spiritual thoughts and concerns. (There are some, to be sure, but they are hardly the norm.) We might wonder what world Paul is coming from. The people he describes are rare birds in the 21st century United States.

Still, anxiety remains a very worthwhile topic of investigation on many different fronts. The social, economic and political circumstances of our country have created lots of anxieties for people. Just earning a living and supporting a family have become major anxieties themselves. They can’t be gotten rid of by responsible parents. They are anxieties that are a part of their parental way of life. These anxieties can be a major part of life’s problems. It struck me how quickly news commentators jumped on those notions of stress and anxiety as possible complicating factors in the death of Joe Paterno, the legendary Penn St. football coach. There were plenty of mental health professionals who supported that probable assessment, noting the negative pressures that stress and anxiety place on blood pressure, heart rate and breathing rhythms. Anxieties are a major part of American life and not soon to be done away with. So, how do we take Paul’s words to heart, "be free of anxieties?"

We need to take a little closer look at this "anxiety" that Paul is writing about. At first glance it seems to refer to the kinds of responsibilities and planning that anyone might do at the beginning of an ordinary day. Early in the morning I take a look at my daily calendar and figure out the anxietiesg I will have to face that day, the people I will meet, the meetings I will attend, the tasks to perform. That seems to cover the anxieties Paul is talking about. However, the word "anxiety" had another alternative meaning in Paul’s day. Religious sociologists have noted that a general religious discouragement was becoming widespread in the 1st century Roman Empire. Despite the Augustan peace, the growing economic prosperity in the empire, and the freedom of worship enjoyed everywhere, more and more people were beginning to have serious doubts about whether any god, any deity could be a source of salvation for them. That attitude of deep doubt was often described as "anxiety." It worked at a far more basic level of the person than the daily anxieties.

Perhaps it was Paul’s special insight that the two levels of anxiety were basically interrelated. If one allows oneself to be too swamped with "daily" anxieties, then that will gradually seep into the basic confidence or lack of confidence that we have in God’s saving mercy and gracious salvation. It’s our challenge to guard against that. We are here, today, at this celebration of the Eucharist, to reaffirm and strengthen our confidence in God’s saving mercy. Let’s do just that as we continue our prayer of the Eucharist.

Sunday, January 1, 2012

Wednesday, December 7, 2011

My 8th Graders are Sending Me to France!

Today, I celebrate my 50th birthday. If you want to know how my 8th graders celebrated my birthday click on the following links!

Lourdes France


God has blessed me in so many ways. Thank you Holy Name Class of 2012. You will forever be remembered in my heart! May God bless you with all that is good.

If you want to read one more article you can read this one from the Criterion.

Love and Prayers,
Sr. Nicolette