topleft05.jpg (18208 bytes)HOMILY
Second Sunday in Lent (C)
28 February 10
 


 

In today’s epistle, St. Paul makes a rather bold statement—some might believe it audacious or even arrogant—to the people of the Christian community of Philippi: “Be imitators of me.”  St. Paul doesn’t say, “Do as I say, not as I do.”  No, St. Paul tells the Philippians to imitate him, that is, to do exactly as he does.

As Jesus’ disciples, this is a statement each and every one of us should be able to make to everyone around us: “Be imitators of me.”  Spouses should be able to say to one another, “Be imitators of me.”  Parents should be able to say to their children, “Be imitators of me.”  Likewise, young people should be able to say to their siblings and peers, “Be imitators of me.”  And all of us should be capable of saying unashamedly to everyone—family members, relatives, neighbors, friends, co-workers, and acquaintances—“Be imitators of me.”

We’re a bit cynical in this day and age—aren’t we—having learned through the hard experience of having observed our parents, relatives, and friends as well as our state, national, and even our religious leaders, that what people say frequently doesn’t square up with what these people do?  Using as the standard of judgment our own experience, perhaps for many of us today St. Paul’s words strike us as audacious or even arrogant.  We wonder: “How is it possible for anyone to be so cocksure of himself to tell others to imitate him?” 

For just a few moments today, let’s consider that St. Paul is being neither audacious nor arrogant.  Let’s assume instead that St. Paul is being completely and absolutely sincere.  If that is the case, and I suspect it is, what St. Paul may be implying in his statement “Be imitators of me” is that people belonging to the Christian community of Philippi should not be doing what they are doing and should imitate St. Paul instead.

And just what might that be?

My guess is that the Philippians were imitating everybody else in the crowd, desirous of being just like all of them, and attempting to discover their life’s purpose, meaning, and values in everything and everyone else, not in the gospel of Jesus Christ.  It is to these people St. Paul is saying, “Be imitators of me.”

This statement is precisely what each and every one of us, as Jesus’ disciples, should utter with St. Paul ’s confident assurance.  We should be able to stand up and, in the midst of contrary voices and behaviors, to state, “Be imitators of me.”  But, to do so—to make that statement with complete and absolute sincerity of heart—we have to be pretty self-assured and confident that what we do is worthy of being imitated by others.

That’s the twist—the point of confrontation on a personal level—that St. Paul is getting at.

Perhaps many of us, if not all of us, know with pretty fair certainty that there are choices we’ve made and things we’ve done in the past which we wouldn’t want others to imitate.  So, rather than be hypocrites and stand accused of acting in ways that differ from our words, St. Paul’s statement—“Be imitators of me”—never crosses our lips.  While that may ensure that we are not being hypocritical in that sense, we are being hypocritical in the sense that we profess ourselves to be disciples.

This is precisely how evil infects our lives, how it spreads its roots like tentacles throughout our homes, neighborhoods, workplaces, nation, and, according to Pope John Paul II, throughout the entire world like an infection spreading the disease he called the “culture of death.”  The forces of evil—and don’t ever doubt for one moment that evil exists—offer us choices where we can accept the Cross of discipleship and the suffering it entails by “doing right things” and telling others to imitate us, as St. Paul did.  Or, we can seek the ease and comfort given by “doing things right” as we imitate others, as the Christians in Philippi were doing.

We oftentimes opt for the easier road of comfort and acceptance, selling our souls to our peer group, our bosses, and all those alleged friends—all of whom are all too willing to heap high praise upon us for imitating their lack of virtue and character.  But, note well what happens: we lose our voice, becoming mute, and render ourselves incapable of saying sincerely “Be imitators of me” because, in truth, there is no me, only a clone of everyone else in the maddening crowd.  We end up possessing no individuality, no personality, and no virtue.  Instead, we allow ourselves to become a generic being—not a genuine article—who looks like, sounds like, and unfortunately, acts just like everyone else.  What we’ve done is to forsake our personal vocation for which God created each of us as an unrepeatable being in all history.  There never has been, is, or will be another one like each of us.  But, what does all of that matter when people like us solely for the reason that w are just like them?

At the ripe old age of seventy five, events conspired in such ways in Abraham’s life that Abraham had to take stock of his choices.  This made it possible for Abraham to see exactly where he had come to in his life.  He was not his own man, still his father’s son, a “wandering Aramean” the Bible says.  Abraham was childless—a curse in his culture—perhaps for not breaking out of the safety and security provided by following the crowd in Aramea in the hope of a receiving a rather sizeable inheritance when his old man finally would finally drop dead.

But, God intervened, calling Abraham to travel a new pathway, one that God wanted Abraham to travel and to the place where Abraham would become the person God had created Abraham to be, not the person Abraham had chosen to be by following his own pathway.  This would require Abraham to turn his back on everyone he knew and everything he possessed, that is, if he wanted to become that “father of nations” whom people would imitate for all generations.

Likewise, in today’s gospel, God graced Peter, John, and James to enter into the cloud on Mount Tabor and to see who Jesus truly was—and by means of contrast—who Peter, John, and James truly were not.  In the Transfiguration, God offered Peter, John, and James a moment of profound self-realization as well as a choice.  The profound self-realization was the person each of them had made of themselves in light of the mystery of God’s only begotten Son.  The choice required entering into the mystery of God’s grace, being transformed by it, and following the pathway God intended for each of them or traveling back down the mountain and staying put in their former way of life.

Abraham, St. Peter, St. John, St. James, and St. Paul—like each of us—realized the choices they had made to that point in their lives weren’t worthy of imitation and recognized that God was calling them to embrace a new way of life.  In turn, each allowed God’s grace to restore and to renew them as God’s beloved, who should not only be listened to but also imitated.

The scripture for this second Sunday of Lent focuses us upon an important spiritual issue.  The issue is not how far we’ve wandered into the crowd and allow it to shape our choices.  The issue is not how far or how many times we’ve fallen off the wagon and strayed from a gospel way of life.  The issue is not how old—think of Abraham—or how relatively young—think of Peter, James, and John—we are.  No, the issue is whether we’re willing to enter into the cloud of darkness of our lives, those bad choices that we’ve made, and to allow God’s light and love to heal and to restore us to full health.  Only then will we be able to walk the pathway where God wants to lead us rather than staying put in the place we have carved out for ourselves in order to avoid the difficulties, risks, controversies and challenges of life.

Responsive to God’s call and following the pathway God has chosen for us, we can say with all of St. Paul’s confident assurance: “Be imitators of me.”

 

 

And, now, the Annual Top 10 Lenten Penances:
The 2010 edition..
.

These penances are arranged in order from those fellow parishioners have identified as “least demanding” to those they’ve identified as “most demanding.”  Those who want to practice a more “muscular” form of Catholicism during the season of Lent should try performing as many penances from the most difficult (“easier”) penances to the least difficult (“very difficult”) penances as is possible.
 

(easier penances)

   10.  Immediately upon waking up, begin each day by making a very slow and thoughtful Sign of the Cross.  Be sure to press you hand against your forehead (mind), your stomach (source of emotions), and shoulders (heart and lungs) so that you feel your body as you say the words.  And, before going to bed, do the same.

    9.  Abstain from meat on Ash Wednesday and all Fridays during Lent and give up something you enjoy—like second helpings, candy, or desserts—for forty days.

    8.  Attend daily Mass and participate in the Stations of the Cross on the Fridays of Lent.

    7.  Each day, pick out and offer to complete an undesirable chore assigned to someone else at home, school, or at work.

 

(more difficult penances)

    6.  Abstain from all foul language, filthy jokes, gossip, and sarcastic or demeaning language each day of Lent.

    5.  Turn off the computer except for absolutely essential work.  That means: no Internet chatrooms, IMs (instant messaging), non-essential emails, and absolutely no websurfing for forty days.

    4.  (a choice) [especially for retired persons] Spend one hour each week of Lent in Eucharistic adoration.  Don’t bring anything but yourself.  Sit there in silence and contemplate the gift of the Eucharist.  [especially for married couples] Spend one hour one night each week looking at your wedding albums and discuss what your hopes and dreams were.  Ask each other: What do I need to do so that we can fulfill our hopes and desires?  [especially for kids] Ask you Mom or Dad what one thing you need to do to improve yourself during Lent and do it.

 

(very difficult penances)

    3.  Say the rosary every day.  But, do so by offering the rosary sincerely from your heart for someone you are having difficulties with, like your in-laws, brother or sister, etc.  Or, in a private space each day, stand up, stretch out your arms as if you are placing yourself on the Cross, and envision your sins nailing Jesus to the Cross.  Feel the pain that sin causes.

    2.  Turn off the television, radio, IPod, Playstation, etc., for forty days.  “What am I going to do?” you may wonder.  (especially for single adults and older couples) Try reading the Sunday Scriptures each day of the week or a section from the Catechism of the Catholic Church each day.  (especially for teenagers) Along with your parents, read Pope John Paul II’s encyclical, On The Family (Familiaris Consortio).  It’s free and available on the web.  Read one section each day and discuss it after dinner as a family.  If you don’t understand something, ask your parents to explain what the Pope means.

    1.  Each day, sit down in absolute silence.  Think about yourself and your life for about five minutes.  Then, write down a sin or character flaw you know you need to improve upon.  When you think you’ve completed your list, go to Church and make a good confession.

 

 

 

 

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