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 20^th 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.

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.

 

Make Sure that You’re Planning FAR ENOUGH Ahead

(Eighteenth Sunday of the Year (C): This homily was given on July 31, 2022 at St. Pius X Church, Westerly, R.I., by Fr. Raymond Suriani.  Read Ecclesiastes 1:2; 2:21-23; Psalm 90:3-17; Colossians 3:1-11; Luke 12:13-21.)

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

We’re often told that we should “Plan ahead.”

“You should plan ahead for your child’s education.”

“You should plan ahead for your medical care.”

“You should plan ahead for emergencies.”

“You should plan ahead for a hurricane.”

“You should plan ahead for your retirement.”

Planning ahead is normally a good thing—a very good thing.  It’s something we’re commended for.  It’s a sign of the fact that we’re taking personal responsibility for our lives.  It’s also an act (or a series of actions) through which we exercise a very important virtue: the virtue of prudence.  Given the uncertainties of life on planet earth, it’s prudent for a person to plan ahead.  Planning ahead can even be a moral mandate in certain circumstances.  Children, for example, need parents who will plan ahead for them in a responsible manner—especially when they’re very young.  That’s why many parents set up college funds for their children right after birth!  Given the ridiculous costs associated with getting a college education these days (and it’s probably only going to get worse), good parents know they need to plan ahead for their children NOW—not 18 years down the road. 

So I ask you, if planning ahead is such a good thing, why was Jesus so critical of the man in today’s gospel parable—this wealthy man who had an abundant harvest?  Shouldn’t the guy have been commended for working so hard?  Shouldn’t Jesus have praised him for being so industrious, and for doing such a great job of planning ahead? 

After all, it sounds like he was set for life!  He didn’t even need an IRA or 401(k)—or to buy any gold from Lear Capital!

So, what was the problem?

Well, believe it or not, I don’t think the issue for Jesus was that the man had planned ahead—I don’t think that was the problem at all.  I believe the problem that Jesus had with this man was that the guy hadn’t planned far enough ahead!  He was planning ahead for the next 40 or 50 years—or for however long he expected to live in this world, but his existence was not going to come to an end with his physical death.  After his death—which came a lot sooner than he expected—he was going to have to face Almighty God in judgment, and after being judged by the Lord he was going to face eternity.  And from what Jesus says here it doesn’t sound like this man was ready for those experiences, since his life was ruled by greed and not by charity.  He was rich in worldly treasure but not rich in what matters to God.

The lesson here for us is simple.  The Lord is saying to each of us today, “Yes, make sure that you plan ahead in all the ways that you need to plan ahead in your earthly life, but in the process always make sure that you are planning far enough ahead.”

In other words, we need to make sure that we’re always planning ahead for God’s merciful judgment—so that, whenever it comes (today or many years from now) we will be ready.

And how, exactly, do we do that?  How do we plan ahead for judgment?

We plan ahead, first of all, by striving to grow in our relationship with the Lord every day—not just for one hour a week on a Saturday night or a Sunday morning.  We plan ahead by taking our Catholic Faith seriously and by applying it to every aspect of our lives—including our conduct at home and at work, and including our political views.  We plan ahead by loving our neighbors as we love ourselves, by practicing forgiveness, and by being concerned for those less fortunate than we are (something the rich man in this parable was not).  Here at St. Pius you can demonstrate your concern for those less fortunate by volunteering to help with our monthly community dinner—which, interestingly enough, is happening this afternoon at 1pm.

And we plan ahead by repenting when we fail in these areas—which we all do at times.  Several years ago in a homily I gave I shared with you what I called my “Mercy Equation.”

Recognition + Repentance = Reception.

That equation has an application in this context. 

If we recognize our sins (and the fact that Jesus died for them), and then sincerely repent of those sins we will receive mercy from the Lord.

Recognition of our sins + Repentance of those sins = Reception of God’s mercy.

And receiving God’s mercy is an absolute necessity if we want to plan ahead properly for God’s judgment—that is to say, if we want to go to heaven.

I’ve often said, if we want to live life successfully forwards (which I think we all do), then we need to think backwards.  In other words, we have to begin by thinking about the goal we want to attain, and then reflect back on the steps we need to take to get to that goal from wherever we’re at right now.

Which is the principle that should guide every decision we make in this life—including the decision to repent of our sins.  We should ask ourselves, “Is this decision going to bring me one step closer to my goal (which is heaven, of course), or will it take me down another road to another place—a place where I definitely don’t want to go?

The rich man in this parable didn’t think of that question when he made the decision to greedily store up his harvest for himself and forget about everyone else.

That night, when he took his final breath and met the Lord face-to-face, I’m sure he wished he had done otherwise.

He planned ahead for a lot of things.  Unfortunately, however, he failed to plan ahead for the most important thing of all, the judgment of God.

He planned ahead, but he didn’t plan far enough ahead.

 My prayer at this Mass is that each and every one of us in this church this morning will learn from this rich man’s mistake.

 

Capitalizing on the Conditional

 

(Seventeenth Sunday of the Year (C): This homily was given on July 24, 2022 at St. Pius X Church, Westerly, R.I. by Fr. Raymond Suriani.  Read Genesis 18:20-32; Psalm 138:1-8; Colossians 2:12-14; Luke 11:1-13.)

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

In one English translation of the Bible, the word “if” appears 1,595 times.  (I know that because I checked in a concordance, not because I counted them out myself.)

In today’s first reading, for example, “if” appears no less than 10 times: God says it 3 times, and Abraham says it 7 times as he intercedes for the people of Sodom and Gomorrah. 

The fact that this word is so prevalent in the Bible indicates that God has made certain things in life conditional.  That is to say, they will only happen if we do what needs to be done to make them happen.  “You will live and grow numerous, and the Lord, your God will bless you,’ Moses said to the Israelites in Deuteronomy 31, ‘IF you obey [his] commandments and [walk] in his ways. . . “

Jesus said, “Your heavenly Father will forgive you your sins—IF you forgive the faults of others.”

Those are just two of the 1,500+ possible examples that I could share with you today.

But actually the number is much higher than that, because there are many verses in the Bible where the word “if” is not explicitly stated, but is clearly implied.  We see this phenomenon in today’s Gospel text from Luke 11.  In that passage, Jesus says, “Ask and you shall receive; seek and you will find; knock and it will be opened to you.”  The word “if” does not explicitly appear anywhere in that verse, but it is implied 3 times!  The message of Jesus is: “You will receive, but only IF you ask (and keep asking); you will find only IF you seek; and it will be opened to you only IF you knock.”

And finally we have the “implicit ifs” which stand behind the “explicit ifs” and can be added to the explicit Biblical ifs and the implied Biblical ifs that I just mentioned.  (I trust you could follow that line of reasoning!)

What do I mean?  Well, take a look—once more—at today’s first reading.  As I said a few moments ago, the word “if” appears there explicitly 10 times.  But behind all those explicit ifs is a very big implied if, and it comes from the mouth of God himself: “If you, Abraham, intercede for the people of Sodom and Gomorrah, I will honor your prayer and bestow an extra measure of my mercy upon them.”  Abraham understood that “if” very well, which is why he kept the conversation with God going until he got the Lord down to 10.

Fr. Ray, what’s the point of this “iffy” information?

Well, it’s really rather simple: So often we wonder why more good things don’t happen in this world.  And, in the process, we can be very quick to point the finger at God, as if it’s his fault!—“God, why don’t you do something about all this?!” 

But the truth is: in many cases, the fault is clearly our own!  We have failed to ask (and we have failed to ask persistently).  We have failed to seek; we have failed to knock; we have failed to reach out to those in need; we have failed to elect enough pro-life people to office; we have failed to share our faith with others to help lead them to conversion; we have failed to forgive; we have failed in 1,001 other ways. 

In 1 Corinthians 3:9, St. Paul calls us “God’s co-workers.”  This means that certain good things will not happen to us or to our world, unless we cooperate with God’s grace and do what needs to be done to make them happen!  In other words, we must capitalize on the conditional.  Since life is full of so many “ifs,” we must resolve to take advantage of as many of them as we can.

One person who took advantage of a crucial “if” in her life was Joyce Smith—a woman I spoke about in my homily this past Mother’s Day.  Her story was the subject of the 2019 movie, Breakthrough.  Joyce is the mother of John Smith, who, on January 19, 2015, fell through the ice on a frozen lake near his home in St. Charles, Missouri.  (He was 14-years-old when this happened.)  By the time the first responders located John and pulled him out of the icy water, he wasn’t breathing, had no pulse, and had been without oxygen for a full 15 minutes.  They immediately started CPR and took him to the local hospital, where doctors and medical personnel continued to work on him feverishly for 43 more minutes—with no response.  The medical team finally gave up, and called in Joyce, John’s adoptive mother, so that she could pay her final respects to her son before they officially declared him dead. 

But Joyce Smith was not ready to give up hope for her son’s recovery!  And so she began to pray over his lifeless body—in a loud voice that could be heard throughout the emergency room of the hospital.  She doesn’t remember her entire prayer that day, but she does recall saying these words to God: “Please send your Holy Spirit to save my son!”

She asked—and she kept asking!

Suddenly, without any further medical intervention, the boy’s heart monitor began to register a pulse—which put him on the road to what has become a full and complete recovery.

The first doctor who treated John that day in the emergency room said it perfectly in his medical report.  He wrote: “Patient dead.  Mother prayed.  Patient came back to life.” 

“Ask and you will receive; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.”  If Joyce Smith did not ask; if she did not seek; if she did not knock—and if she did not do these things perseveringly—in all likelihood she would have lost her son.

In this terribly dark and tragic situation, she capitalized on the conditional—and she received a great blessing in the process.  May the Lord help us to do the very same thing in our lives.