July 17 & 18, 2010: Head and Heart
July 18, 2010
About a week ago I was at a dinner party, and after a wonderful meal, a few of us (including Father Paul, Miguel, and Deacon Roger) made our way into the living room, while most of the others settled in the family room. The conversation quickly drifted to theology – and to the mystery of Jesus. I felt a bit out of my depth at times, but I enjoyed the discussion. I asked some questions and learned from the answers.
When smart people talk about these very complicated things, there’s a temptation to turn it into a competition. For most, but not all theological questions, there are “right answers.” Theologians have studied and prayed about many of these questions for hundreds or even thousands of years, and people who study theology learn these “right answers.” And in some similar discussions that I’ve been involved with, it seems almost like a game of Jeopardy, except the answers don’t have to be in the form of a question.
But this was a different kind of discussion. Good questions were asked and many of the “right answers” were given, but there was very little “theological testosterone” in the room. One of the people asked a question about whether Mary was the ultimate human person. As Father Paul was sharing his insights with us, I could see that Miguel was anxious to say something. I wondered if he was going to strut some of his “seminary book-learning.” I was impressed that while he shared some important ideas with us, those ideas came equally from his head and from his heart. Miguel didn’t see this as a quiz show. He had obviously thought deeply (in his head) about the Virgin Mary and her relationship with Jesus, but this understanding had also touched his heart, and affected his own relationship with Jesus and Mary.
And, in fact, that was the difference between the discussion that night, and so many similar discussions I’ve had in the past – the understanding that theology – the study of God and his interaction with us – must be more than a mental exercise. It cannot be limited to our heads, but must be shared with our hearts.
Last Sunday Father Paul talked to us about the story of the Good Samaritan. He told us that when Jesus asked the lawyer what the law said he had to do to inherit eternal life, the lawyer gave the right answer: “Love God and love your neighbour.” The lawyer knew that answer in his head. And then Jesus told the parable: how a priest and a Levite walked right past one of their neighbours who was beaten almost to death, lying on the side of the road. They knew all about the instruction to love God and neighbour. It went back to the Book of Deuteronomy – part of their scriptures. But they also knew that the law said that if they came in contact with blood, they would become ritually unclean, and the man on the side of the road was badly beaten. He might have even been dead, and they would become unclean if they touched a corpse. So they listened to their heads rather than their hearts – they passed by the injured man without offering any assistance. And we know that the Samaritan, who wasn’t operating from his head, acted with a much more profound understanding of this fundamental Jewish law than these two Jewish religious leaders. The Samaritan acted from his heart.
As you know, this was one of the most important themes of Jesus’ public ministry. He was constantly criticizing the Scribes and Pharisees as hypocrites, because they held the Law in their heads, and observed it scrupulously, but had no understanding of the purpose of the Law in their hearts. And this should not have been a big stretch for them. You remember in last week’s reading from Deuteronomy, God spoke to the people about the Law through Moses, and said: “It is not too hard for you, nor is it too far away…it is in your mouth and in your heart for you to observe.” Even in the Old Testament, God was telling his people to make the connection between head and heart – in fact, he was telling them that these laws were already written in their hearts – they just had to be aware of something that was already there.
And today we see the same sort of contrast between head and heart in the story of Martha and Mary. Martha was operating from her head. She took her job as hostess very seriously. When you have guests in your house, there are certain things that need to be done – it’s like an unwritten law. And Martha got angry when Mary didn’t help with the things that Martha thought were important. Mary was obviously operating from the heart. Sitting at the feet of Jesus, Mary probably made Jesus feel more welcome in their house than Martha did with her chasing about, and Mary definitely gained more from the presence of Jesus in their house than Martha did. That’s why Jesus said to Martha: “Mary has chosen the better part.” We’re used to hearing Jesus beat up on the Scribes and Pharisees for operating only from the head, but in today’s gospel, we hear that regular people are also in danger of missing the message.
Each weekend, Father Paul, Father Andrew, and I talk to you about God, often in the person of Jesus. Father J and Deacon Roger will be joining the team soon. And we often say things that you’ve heard many times before. I wonder how many of these ideas – these truths of our faith – make it from your head to your heart. In fact, if you’re like me, your attention sometimes wanders, and these things never even make it to your head!
I’d like you to do something this week. I’m giving you some homework. So get out a pen and a piece of paper if you have one. I’m going to read five statements of our faith – things that you’ve heard very often – and I want you to spend some time each day this week with one of those statements – taking it from your head and giving it a resting place in your heart. They’ll also be on the parish website if you miss them. Remember, you only have to choose one – but you have to choose one.
First: “God is Love.” We hear this all the time, and none of us would disagree with the statement, but what will it feel like to fix that statement in our hearts. So that’s number one.
Second: “Jesus died for my sins.” Again, we know this in our head, but what does it mean to us when it becomes part of our heart.
Third: “Jesus is the vine, we are the branches. I am a branch.” Feel that in your heart.
Fourth: “Seek not the things of this world, but the things of heaven.”
And last: “I am a child of God.”
You might remember that when Father Paul does baptisms during Mass, you always hear him telling the parents that they must bring up their children to know God, not just know about God. You can know about God in your head, but to know God involves both the head and the heart. That’s the challenge that I’m giving you today. Good luck. You don’t know how important this is. After all, you don’t want to miss the gates of heaven by 18 inches (the distance from your head to your heart).
July 3 & 4, 2010: Stuff
July 5, 2010
When I was a kid, especially in the summer, I would get up in the morning and get dressed, and before I went outside to play, I would cram my pants pockets full of the really important stuff that I would need for the day: a couple of small stones, a pocket knife, my yoyo, a few marbles, a handkerchief, a wad of heavy string, and maybe a slingshot.
I think many of us still do that. I’m sure some of you have seen women strolling through the shops with purses the size of a small suitcase. They’re carrying make-up, a wallet, cell phone, toiletries, Kleenex (no hankies), a checkbook, bottle of water, a snack, keys (funny, I never carried keys when I was a kid).
And guys, we’re not immune. I got a new truck a couple months ago, and I was amazed at how many storage compartments there were. The people who make trucks understand that we have lots of stuff.
In today’s gospel, Jesus sends 70 of his disciples out on a mission – a mission to spread his teachings. And they would be gone for more than just a day – more than a shopping trip to the mall – more than a drive to the worksite. And what did he tell them? “Carry no purse, no bag, no sandals.” How were they supposed to survive without their stuff? What was Jesus telling them? He was saying: “Trust in me. Don’t trust in your stuff – trust in me.”
And they had a reason to trust Jesus. They had been following him, and learning from him. Jesus had nurtured them. We hear about that kind of nurturing in the first reading. Isaiah was describing the Jewish people, who were anticipating the restoration of Jerusalem after it had been destroyed and their temple abused by invading populations. They talked about their relationship to Jerusalem like the intimate relationship between a mother and a child. And then they extended that metaphor to their relationship with God. It’s funny, we usually think about God in male terms: “God the Father,” but isn’t it a wonderful image to think of God cradling us like a mother cradles and nurses her child.
But children don’t stay in their mother’s arms forever. Jesus had nurtured his disciples. He had shown gentleness and love, and now he was sending them out – but with no stuff. He said: “Go from this safe place – go prepare things for me. Teach the people as I taught you. Cure people as I cured you. Oh, and by the way, lots of people will hate you. You will be like lambs among the wolves.”
So what’s the message for us? I think you know what it is. Jesus is calling each of us to be one of those 70 disciples. Now our first response might be: “I’m not like those 70 people.” You might think those 70 disciples were people like Father Paul – highly trained and actually ordained to do this work. Well no, they weren’t. The apostles might have been like that, but these were lay people – people like you.
Your next rationalization might go something like this: “But Jesus probably gave them some kind of special blessing.” Well, yes, he probably did. And he gave each of us a special blessing at our baptism, and strengthened that blessing when we were confirmed, and he renews that blessing each time we receive his body and blood in the Eucharist. And with each of those blessings we are called to be like the 70 disciples.
So what’s stopping us? Well, one of the things stopping us is our stuff. Jesus told his disciples to leave everything behind as an act of total trust and surrender, but by leaving these things behind, they also would have no possessions to worry about. Our lives tend to be centered around collecting stuff, working hard so that we can afford stuff, and occupying our time with our stuff.
Now, for the most part, our stuff is not evil, and working so that we can afford things is not a sin, and using and enjoying materials things is not wrong – but all of these things can be. And I think the key relates to something Father Paul spoke to us about last week. You remember that he talked about addiction. He gave a specific example of addiction to Facebook – a social networking site. Some of you might have read the 12 signs that you are addicted to Facebook that Miguel posted on the parish website. Social networking is not wrong, in fact, Facebook allows people who are physically separated to share experiences with their friends. But as you read the “12 signs” you can understand that social networking can be taken to the level of addiction. Just like an occasional drink is not a problem, but alcoholism is so terribly destructive.
As Father Paul told us last week, the difference is about freedom. We are free when we collect and use our stuff. We lose that freedom when we become addicted – when we allow our things to control us. The 70 disciples were so excited about the many wonderful things that they accomplished in Jesus’ name. They would not have been able to do those wonderful things if they had spent the whole time setting up and taking down tents, or shopping at the local markets, gossiping at the town gate or drinking wine into the wee hours. Just like we can’t spread the message of Jesus that we hear about each weekend, if we’re addicted to things like Facebook, alcohol, television, or anything else that monopolizes our time and minds.
Now I’m not suggesting that you all empty your pockets and purses, leave your credit cards behind and wander from town to town, preaching. We don’t all have that calling. But by the grace of God, given to us in the sacraments, we are all called to a relationship with him – and because we are Catholics – that relationship with God must extend to our families, our neighbours, our co-workers. We preach by the lives we live, by the way we treat the people we meet, by the things we tolerate in our lives and by the things that we refuse to tolerate, and by our generosity to those who have less stuff than we have.
The 70 disciples were nurtured, loved, and blessed by Jesus, and then sent out to preach and to work wonders. We are no different. It’s our turn.