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Think,
for a moment, about the one telephone call you most dread
receiving.
For those of
us with some life’s experience, I’d hazard one of those telephone
calls comes when the phone rings during regular business hours. We
pick up the receiver only to learn that the person speaking is an
IRS agent who is calling to inform us that our income tax filings
for the past three years are being audited. “Is there anything
you’d like to amend to any of those documents?”, the IRS agent
politely asks.
Now, that’s a
pretty scary telephone call! But, it’s not the one, most dreaded
telephone call.
I’d imagine this telephone call is the one that comes just before 5:00
a.m. Upon hearing the telephone ringing, the first thought that
enters our minds is in the form of the question, “Who died?” or
“What awful thing happened?” Or, perhaps the most dreaded telephone
call is the one coming from the doctor’s office, the call informing
us that the tests from the lab came back positive. We’re asked:
“Can you schedule an appointment for a consultation later today or
early tomorrow?”
For a young
person, perhaps it’s the dreaded telephone call from a teacher who
wants to talk not with you but with your parents. Or, maybe it’s
the telephone call from the person you’ve been dating. What you
hear is a monologue where you already know the end game: the
relationship is finito…done…over with…terminated.
Slam...and a dial tone ensues.
For parents,
maybe it’s the dreaded telephone call Beth Holloway Twitty received
last June about her daughter, Natalee. “I have waited and I have
waited and I have waited,” Mrs. Twitty said. “We don't even have
one answer yet....They have to find Natalee. They have to find our
daughter.” Worse yet, it may be the dreaded telephone call Mrs. Twitty is
still waiting after all of these months to receive, the one relating the death of her
child.
For a husband
or wife, perhaps it’s the telephone call reporting an accident and
that a spouse has been taken to the hospital. Or, it might be the
telephone call coming from the hospital to inform you about your spouse’s death.
Of course,
none of us wants to receive any of these telephone calls. What’s
common to each of them, however, is how much time and effort we
expend organizing our lives in many different ways so as to make ourselves feel secure. To
this end, we render to many “Caesars” their due, vainly hoping that
we’ve sufficiently insulated ourselves from ever having to receive
that one dreaded
telephone call.
Surely, what
agents of the government can do to us is very important and we
certainly should pay attention to our civic obligations so that we
don’t end up “on the other side of the law.” So, we pay our taxes.
And, for the most part, we follow the speed limit. We obey the
law. We do our best to be good citizens.
Disease and
accidents can
blindside us in our regular routines. So, to enjoy our days to the max, we eat
judiciously and exercise regularly to avoid illness, disease, and an
early death. We drive defensively to protect ourselves.
Likewise, we
also set about fulfilling our desires. We try to be happy; we seek to
feel wanted and needed. We also do everything in our power to feel
comfortable, especially by seeking to be secure and live a
somewhat predictable existence from day to day and week to week. But,
ultimately, all of these desires lead nowhere but to a sense of emptiness,
sorrow, and loneliness because, when one of those dreaded telephone
calls does come, we suddenly find ourselves feeling very empty, sorry, and
lonely. Nothing we own or possess can fill the void we experience
when we receive that one telephone call we dread most.
But, did you
ever stop to think how all of these efforts are motivated by a
desire to fend off dreaded telephone calls from all of the Caesars
of the world? The lesson is simple: the price we pay for short-term
happiness is to live in fear that the dreaded telephone call may be
coming sooner than later. And, when it does, our happiness
disappears into thin air the moment Caesar calls to collect his due.
Knowing that
happiness is transient, Jesus proposes a different path.
Instead of chasing after happiness by paying off all of the Caesars
around us, we can seek true happiness. Jesus tells us in
today’s gospel that true happiness is found by “rendering to God
what is God’s.”
The journey
begins as we seek to learn what it is that we really and truly need
if we are to live free from fear. This is an important learning
because, when that dreaded telephone call does come as surely it
will in one form or another, understanding
that events in our lives inevitably will challenge us to confront
emptiness, sorrow, and loneliness. Know what we really and
truly need can give us the
strength to choose to look at these experiences as blessings rather
than as deprivations.
Sounds crazy,
doesn’t it?
Yet, when we
choose to see a blessing where otherwise we’d choose to feel
deprived, we actually begin to recognize that all of those things we
thought made us happy really didn’t give us true happiness.
Instead, they made us feel good, temporarily anesthetizing us from
the fear we had of losing those things. Think of all those
fellow citizens who lost everything they owned, who lost loved ones,
and who lost their livelihoods due to Hurricanes Katrina and Rita.
What about those who survived the devastating earthquake in
Pakistani Kashmir? Contrary to what we may
think, we make a good start spiritually speaking when we see a blessing where otherwise
we’d choose to feel deprived because this understanding is what gives us
insight into why we are feeling so empty, sorrowful, and lonely...wallowing
in a full-blown
“pity party.”
From a spiritual
perspective, then, emptiness, sorrow, and loneliness are blessings
because these experiences have the power to teach us that all of
those places where we thought we’d discover happiness ended up
providing only momentary and fleeting happiness. Yes, we certainly
were happy, but the simple spiritual truth is that we were living
the entire time in fear, hoping that we’d be able to evade feeling
of empty, sorrowful, and lonely. As Christians, our failure was to
believe that we could make it through each day, and ultimately
through life, without having to embrace the Cross.
So, Jesus
challenges us to “render to God the things that are God’s?”
What does this mean?
One way to
discover what it means to render to God the things that are God’s is to take a look at the days and events of
just this past week.
Then, ask yourself, “What Caesar did I pay off so that I might
achieve just one moment of happiness?”
Our culture tempts us to seek happiness by acquiring all sorts of
material comforts. We surround ourselves with all of these
things with the intention of easing or eliminating anything that
may cause discomfort. However, each of these false elixirs made
of snake’s oil provide only temporary relief, sedatives that prove
themselves to be incapable of satisfying our desire for happiness.
Is the real truth
that I chose to be a
polytheist this past week? Strange as it may sound, did I give what is due to the many Caesars
that promised me
happiness...but at the prohibitively high price of living my life
this past week in fear that without these things I will feel empty, sorrowful, and lonely?
Like the
Pharisees in today’s gospel, we can choose to allow many things to
distract us from the point Jesus is making, namely, “to render to
God what is God’s.” When we allow ourselves to become distracted
and don’t render to God what is His due, we invent reasons for
rearranging our priorities.
Like the Pharisees, we
then also are hypocrites. Because by our freely-willed choices, we
demonstrate that we worry more about being happy than in doing what
we need to do. And what is that? To see how God blesses us in abundance.
The truth is
that our lives belong wholly and entirely to God. As we heard in
the first reading, “I am the Lord your God. There is no other
besides me.” God has blessed us
with so many gifts that, if we so choose, we can experience true happiness,
the kind that no power can ever take away.
So, we need to
push ourselves a bit further by asking ourselves a second question:
“During this past week, instead of seeking happiness by rendering to
my Caesars what is their due, how did I choose to entrust myself to
God by embracing the Cross of self-sacrifice that melted my fear
away?”
Sounds strange,
doesn’t it?
Self-sacrifice
leads to happiness that cannot be taken away?
So, to be concrete,
can you point to a blessing in your life this past week where you
otherwise would have found yourself tempted to feel empty,
sorrowful, or lonely? Now, that’s the crucible of discipleship! Where
did you see a blessing where instead you wanted to cry out and
wallow in a full-blown pity party?
It’s so very
easy for any of us to say that we should never envision our security
and destiny as inextricably tied to these Caesars because our true
security and destiny is found only in God. It’s also very easy to
say that worldly power and prestige is always fleeting and temporary
and only God’s boundless goodness and truth are eternal. But, it’s
quite another thing to choose purposely to orient our daily lives in
that direction by making decisions each and every day where we place
our trust in “rendering to Caesar what is Caesar’s and to God what
is God’s.”
Rendering to
Caesar what is Caesar’s promises short-term happiness; but,
rendering to God what is God’s requires something more difficult and
challenging, namely, emptying ourselves on the Cross as Christ did.
The happiness we get from rendering to Caesar what is due Caesar
comes at the prohibitively high cost of living in the fear of losing
what we believe will keep us happy. But, by emptying ourselves on
the Cross as Christ did, this is how we discover true happiness. No
power can ever take away this happiness—“the grace and peace of God
our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ,” as St. Paul calls it—even
when we might otherwise believe have very good reason to feel empty,
sorry, and lonely, as Jesus certainly had every right to feel!
A brief commercial
break...
Although
it may seem a bit premature for me to be making this announcement,
Advent is just around the corner!
Each
year, the people at Magnificat® produce a companion edition for the
season of Advent. The 2005 companion edition is entitled “He Comes! The
King of Glory.” Similar to a what older Catholics may remember as a
"prayer book," the companion edition contains all sorts of prayers,
readings, reflections, art, and activities for every member of the
family to prepare each day of the season of Advent for the coming of
Christ at Christmas.
Grandparents might consider purchasing a copy for themselves and copies
for each of their grandchildren. Confirmation sponsors might consider
purchasing a copy for themselves as well as the person they sponsored in
the faith. Spouses might purchase a copy for themselves and use it for
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as well as an Advent gift to spur family, friends, and colleagues toward
greater spiritual growth during the season of Advent.
The
companion edition has a limited press run that sells out each year.
Furthermore, orders are filled in the order received. So, place your
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To place
an order for the 2005 companion edition of Magnificat® for the season of
Advent entitled “He Comes! The King of Glory,” call 1-970-416-6670 or
email specialissue@intrepidgroup.com for ordering information.
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HOMILY
