Sunday, August 28, 2022

The Irony of Humility


 

(Twenty-second Sunday of the Year (C): This homily was given on August 28,2022 at St. Pius X Church, Westerly, R.I., by Fr. Raymond Suriani.  Read Sirach 3:17-29; Psalm 68:4-11; Hebrews 5:18-24A; Luke 14:1, 7-14.)

[For the audio version of this homily, click here: Twenty-second Sunday 2022]

 

You could call it “the irony of humility” or “the irony about humility”.  The irony of humility is this:

      The more you consider yourself to be humble, the less humble you actually are. 

·       The more you think that you’ve mastered the virtue of humility in your life, the less humility you actually have in your heart.

Thinking that you’re humble, my brothers and sisters, is really a manifestation of pride (which, of course, is one of the seven deadly sins!).  You might say that the person who thinks he’s humble is merely proud of his humility—although he misunderstands what humility actually is.

Jesus makes the importance of humility crystal clear in this gospel text we just heard from Luke 14, as does Sirach in our first reading when he says, My child, conduct your affairs with humility, and you will be loved more than a giver of gifts.  Humble yourself the more, the greater you are, and you will find favor with God.”

Now, contrary to popular belief, the genuinely humble person does not think less of himself than he should.  That’s a very common misunderstanding.  Thinking less of yourself than you should is called “having a poor self-image”—and that’s not what the Lord wants for us.  Quite oppositely, the genuinely humble person DOES think of himself as he should—because he knows and accepts the FULL TRUTH about himself!  The genuinely humble person knows, for example, that he’s created in the image and likeness of God, and as such has a dignity and value beyond anything else in the material universe.  He also understands that God loves him just as he is—but too much to let him stay that way!

The genuinely humble person knows that he’s been given gifts—that he’s been blessed in special and unique ways by God—and that everything that’s truly good in his life and in his heart comes ultimately from the Lord.  So he gives God (and not himself) the glory for all of it.  And, at the very same time, the genuinely humble person sees himself as a wretched sinner: a sinner who needs reconciliation with God every single day!  He knows that he can’t save himself by his good deeds; he knows that he can’t earn God’s forgiveness by his own power; and so every day he makes the tax collector’s prayer his own: “Lord, have mercy on me, a sinner.” 

Thus the truly humble person would never make the mistake of taking the place of prominence at the banquet table that Jesus talks about in this gospel text.  He’d know better.

Mother Teresa once said, “If you are humble nothing will touch you, neither praise nor disgrace, because you know what you are. If you are blamed you will not be discouraged. If they call you a saint you will not put yourself on a pedestal.”

Whenever I read a quote like that, I realize how far I have to go to achieve genuine humility in my own life.  But that’s to be expected, because growing in humility is a lifelong process: a process which will only stop when we go before the Lord at the end of our earthly lives and see ourselves in God’s perfect light. Then, and only then, will we see his greatness and our weakness with perfect clarity.

Now if ever, in the future, you are tempted to think otherwise; if ever, in the future, you are tempted to think that you no longer need to be part of this process—that you no longer need to grow in the virtue of humility in your life—my suggestion is to get yourself a copy of the Litany of Humility and read it.  Read it slowly; read it carefully; think about what you’re saying.  That should help to cure you of your pride very quickly.

Without a doubt, this is one of the most difficult and challenging prayers that’s ever been written.  In all honesty, because of my own pride, I have a very hard time praying it from my heart.  Interestingly enough, it was written in the early 20th century by Cardinal Merry del Val—who was the Vatican Secretary of State under Pope St. Pius X.  I’ll conclude my homily today by reading the prayer to you.  Some of you know it, I’m sure.  By the way, if you do know it, I would respectfully ask you not to pray it out loud along with me today.  Just listen.  Just listen carefully to the words:

 O Jesus, meek and humble of heart, hear me.

 From the desire of being esteemed, deliver me, Jesus.

From the desire of being loved, deliver me, Jesus.

From the desire of being extolled, deliver me, Jesus.

From the desire of being honored, deliver me, Jesus.

From the desire of being praised, deliver me, Jesus.

From the desire of being preferred to others, deliver me, Jesus.

From the desire of being consulted, deliver me, Jesus.

From the desire of being approved, deliver me, Jesus.

 

From the fear of being humiliated, deliver me, Jesus.

From the fear of being despised, deliver me, Jesus.

From the fear of suffering rebukes, deliver me, Jesus.

From the fear of being calumniated, deliver me, Jesus.

From the fear of being forgotten, deliver me, Jesus.

From the fear of being ridiculed, deliver me, Jesus.

From the fear of being wronged, deliver me, Jesus.

From the fear of being suspected, deliver me, Jesus.

 

That others may be loved more than I, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.

That others may be esteemed more than I, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.

That, in the opinion of the world, others may increase and I may decrease, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.

That others may be chosen and I set aside, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.

That others may be praised and I unnoticed, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.

That others may be preferred to me in everything, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.

That others may become holier than I, provided that I may become as holy as I should, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.

If you can say that prayer—and truly mean it!—it’s a sign that you’re on the right road in your life.  And that’s great!  Praise God for his grace at work within you!  But then don’t make the mistake—the catastrophic mistake—of thinking you’ve reached the goal of becoming a genuinely humble person, because (as I said at the beginning of my homily) the minute—the second—you think you’re humble, you’re not!

That’s the irony of humility.  It’s also the truth.

Sunday, August 07, 2022

The Reasonableness of Faith

Abraham and Sarah

(Nineteenth Sunday of the Year (C): This homily was given on August 7, 2022, at St. Pius X Church, Westerly, R.I., by Fr. Raymond Suriani.  Read Wisdom 18:6-9; Psalm 33:1-22; Hebrews 11; Luke 12:32-48.)

 [For the audio version of this homily, click here: Nineteenth Sunday 2022]


Faith or reason—which is it? 

Are you a person who lives by faith, or do you use your intellect and live by reason?

That’s the way the issue is typically framed in our modern culture.  And so people are either labeled “religious” or “scientific”—as if religious people don’t have intellects, and people of science never act on faith!

Wrong on both counts!  For example, every scientific, “rational” atheist has faith, whether he realizes it or not!  First of all, he has faith that God does not exist, because the existence of God is not something which can be proven or disproven by the scientific method!  

But he also has faith in lots of other things. 

If he’s married, ask him the question, “Does your spouse love you?”  If he says yes, then ask him how he knows that.  Has he demonstrated it scientifically?  Has he run a series of experiments to validate the hypothesis?  Of course not!  Because the existence of love is not something which can be proven by science!  Ultimately, it’s a matter of faith!  The married atheist, like the married believer, has faith that his spouse loves him.  Now I’m sure he has some good reasons for his belief—but it’s still belief!

Ask him if Abraham Lincoln or Julius Caesar or Aristotle ever existed.  If he says yes, then ask him once again how he knows this.  It’s not because he saw these people with his own eyes and verified their existence experientially!  No!  He has faith in the men and women who wrote the history books he read in school!  He has faith that they knew what they were talking about, and that they were telling him the truth!

Do you realize that every time you put a bite of prepared food into your mouth, you act on faith?  (And, of course, depending on who’s prepared the meal, there may be a lot of faith involved!)  I say this, because, unless you carry a “food testing machine” with you wherever you go, you don’t know with absolute certitude that the food you’re eating at a given meal isn’t spoiled or laced with poison!

I could go on with many other examples, but I think I’ve made my point.  Everyone, to some extent, lives by faith! 

That’s a fact.  Even the most “rational” person on the planet does things by faith each and every day!

So faith must be reasonable, since reasonable people have faith!

In today’s second reading, from Hebrews 11, we hear about the faith of some of the great figures of the Old Testament.  In this context, of course, the object of their faith wasn’t anything or anyone on this earth: it was almighty God himself.  Abraham, Sarah (and the other Old Testament figures mentioned in this chapter—Abel, Noah, Isaac, Moses, etc.), put their faith in God and were blessed by him in some tangible way. 

All of them believed—but not foolishly or blindly!  All of them had reasons for their belief, reasons for their faith!  A married man has reasons why he believes his wife loves him.  We all have reasons for believing what we read in history books.  We have reasons why we believe that the food we’re about to eat at a given meal is safe and healthy.

It says in this text that Abraham put his faith in God and was willing to offer up his son Isaac, because (and here I quote), “He reasoned that God was able to raise even from the dead . . . “

That was one reason for his faith.  I’m sure he had many others as well.

We should also have reasons—intelligent, rational reasons—why we believe in God, and why we believe in the teachings of his one, holy, catholic and apostolic Church!

So what are yours?

Why do you believe?

I’ll leave you to ponder that question.  Think about it during the coming week.  Ask yourself, “Why do I believe?” 

You might even consider writing down your answers and sharing them with a close Catholic friend.  Then challenge him as to why he believes!

And don’t be surprised if your faith grows a little stronger in the process.  Reflecting on the reasons for your faith, may actually help to deepen your faith.  And I think we’d all agree that, in these troubled times, a deeper personal faith is always a great blessing.