Saturday, January 28, 2023
Thursday, January 26, 2023
LOOKING FOR GOODNESS TO AFFIRM
Tuesday, January 24, 2023
ARE YOU GUILTY OF THE SIN OF WITHHOLDING?
Sure, he might be able to drive out demons, but he does it with the help of the prince of demons!
Luke
11:15
What we have here is a
message about pettiness and jealousy in ministry that has been around since the
beginning. There was one thing the religious enemies of Jesus
could not stand and that was his success in ministry. Since it was obvious that
he was doing good things, the only tactics they had left to fall back on was to
discredit his success by attributing that success to the fact that he was in
cahoots with the devil. Since it was obvious to all that he had power to cast
out demons, they attributed his power, not to God, but to the devil. Jealous of
his power to do good, they slander him by telling people that his power to do
good came from evil itself.
Jealousy and competitiveness
have been the dark side of clerical culture for a very long time and is alive
and well today. When the apostles, James and John, were caught making a move to
grab the best seats in Jesus’ new kingdom, they had to face the jealous
indignation of the other ten apostles as well as a stern reprimand from Jesus.
We may remember the story about John trying to put a stop to someone who was
driving out demons in the name of Jesus because he was not “a member of the
inner circle.” Then there is the story about Joshua doing pretty much the same
when he complained to Moses that Medad and Eldad were prophesying even though
they had not been “in the tent” with the others when the spirit came to rest on
the other prophets. Snubbed by some Samaritans while on their way
to Jerusalem, James and John asked Jesus if it would be OK to call down fire
from heaven and burn them up!
The United States Conference
of Catholic Bishops’ Basic Plan for the Ongoing Formation of Priests
dedicates quite a bit of space to the subject of clerical envy and competition.
Whether you like his work or not, the late Father Andrew Greeley made a similar
point in one of his books. He talks about the leveling that goes on in
presbyterates, whereby priests are reluctant to applaud the work of other
priests for fear that it will take away something from themselves.
He says that, in the clerical culture, “to be a member of good standing, a priest must try not to be too good at anything or to express unusual views or criticize accepted practices or even to read too much. Some ideas are all right, but too many ideas are dangerous.” “When a layman mentions that Father X is a good preacher, the leveler priest’s response might likely be, ‘Yes, he preaches well, but he doesn’t get along with kids.’” Or, “He’s really good, but all he does during the week is prepare his sermon.” Or, “everyone says that, and it’s probably true, but he’s not an easy man to live with.” God help the individual priest who "shines" too much!
In my transition
class with the deacons at St. Meinrad, I always ended with a class on "the spiritual practice of
blessing people." Blessing people is not about waving crosses over them, but
looking for goodness in them to affirm. For some reason, this does not seem to
come naturally to ordained ministers. It is a spiritual discipline that must be
intentionally cultivated.
A couple of years ago, I came
across my notes for former student, Jorge Gomez’s class, the class of 2011. You may not know that Fr. Jorge, from Mexico, as well as a fellow seminarian, Stanley from Kenya, were killed in a car
wreck a few weeks after his ordination. Here are the last words I said to
Deacon Jorge to bless him on his way out of the seminary. “You have not forgotten that
you do not have a vocation to the seminary, but to serve the People of God. You
have a deep love and respect for your country, your family, your people and
your community. You are very dedicated to “the people.” You seem to know
instinctively that, as priests, we are “called from the people, to live among
the people, to serve the people.” I also told them which saint they reminded me
of. For him I selected St. Luke, whose heroes are always the underdog, the
foreigner, the disaffected and the left out. I am very happy I took the
time to bless him with these words while he was still alive! Fr. Jorge would have
loved Pope Francis’ homily where he said, “A priest who is not in service of his
community does no good. He is wrong!”
Brothers and sisters, our
sin may not be so much about “what we have done,” the mean and nasty things we
say about each other, but “what we have failed to do,” our withholding of clear
and unconditional compliments.
St. Cyprian, in the Office
of Readings for the Feast of Sts. Cornelius and Cyprian, put it this way. His
words could be applied to religious women, lay ministers and fellow believers as well. “Why
should a priest not take pride in the praise given to a fellow priest as though
it were given to him? What brotherhood fails to rejoice in the happenings
of its brothers wherever they are?”
One famous American
Protestant preacher described our sin best when he said, “The meanest, most
contemptible form of praise is to first speak well of a man and then end it
with a “but!”
Sunday, January 22, 2023
A VOCATION - WE ALL HAVE ONE
As Jesus was walking by the Sea of
Galilee, he saw two brothers,
Simon who is called Peter, and his brother Andrew, casting a net into the
sea; they were fishermen. He said to them, “Come after me, and I will make you
fishers of men.” At once they left their nets and followed him.
Matthew 4:12-23
Please
excuse me if you have heard this story several times. I have only one life, so
I have to repeat some of my old experiences once in a while. As some of you
already know from my many years of preaching at the Cathedral, at Bellarmine
and writing in The Record, that I got my “call” when I was
about six years old. No, God did not speak to me from the clouds. Mary did not
appear to me in church. Something, however, happened when I was six years old that
I have never forgotten. Since I was born and grew up in Rhodelia where there
were no barber shops, an elderly man up the road by the name of Alvey Manning
cut my hair for $.25. One day, one of his nephews who had recently been
ordained, Father Henry Vessels, came for a visit. I just happened to be there
for a haircut. Father Vessels paid no attention to me and I don’t even remember
talking to him that day. At some point, he had taken off his Roman collar and
coat and laid them on one of the beds. I don’t know what possessed me, but I
sneaked into the bedroom, held the collar up to my neck and looked at myself in
the mirror. Not knowing what got into me, I dropped it like a hot potato, as if
I had broken every religious taboo in the Catholic Church. Even
though I was only six years old, I have never forgotten that experience.
The
next time the subject of priesthood came up was a year later. I was in the
second grade when Sister Mary Ancilla asked us to tell the class what we wanted
to be when we grew up. I can still remember thinking, “should I or shouldn’t I”
tell them! I can still remember urging myself to go ahead and say “priest”
whether they laughed at me or not! The only problem was, I proceeded to flunk
the altar boy test, not once, not twice, but three times! This prompted Sister
Mary Ancilla to say to me, “Ronnie! You’re a good kid, but I don’t think you
will ever be any good around the altar!” (As punishment, I made her sit in the
front pew at my First Mass.)
Throughout
grade school, unfazed by Sister Mary Ancilla’s negative evaluation of my
possible calling, I did not dwell on the idea of being a priest, but it was
always there in the back of my mind. When it came time to go to high school in
1958, I found out that the church would accept young men to start their
seminary training out of the eighth grade. Against the advice of almost
everybody who knew me, even my pastor Father Felix Johnson, I decided to apply.
He didn't want to fill out the papers for my going to the seminary until I
groveled. Even then, he predicted I wouldn't make it to Christmas. A month or two later, at barely fourteen years
of age, I left home to begin a twelve-year seminary program to become a priest.
Father White called me into his office during my second year of high school
seminary and told me he was sending me home because "you, Mr. Knott, are a
hopeless case." I had to grovel again for a second chance. (Actually, when
I think about it, I have had a lot of experience at groveling!)
Finally,
on May 16, 1970 I was ordained! It was hard, very hard, an uphill battle most
of the way, but I never looked back, I have never been through an identity
crisis for more than a day or two, and even today, I would not trade with
anybody. However, even on my ordination day, a woman came up to me and asked
how many years I was in seminary. When I answered 12, she stepped back and
gasped, "My God! You could have been something!" Most of the time, almost
fifty-three years now, I have loved doing what priests do. At age 78, almost
79, with the finish line in sight, I still hope to finish my life as a priest.
In
today’s gospel Jesus notices two sets of brothers, fishing. He calls them to
follow him, to become his disciples. We are told they immediately dropped
their nets, two of them even dropped their father, and followed
Jesus. Unlike the resistant and foot-dragging response of the
Prophet Jonah, these guys are decisive and passionate.
Throughout
Scripture, different people respond differently to God’s call. Abraham and
Sarah were old, “one foot in the grave” as the scriptures put it, when they
were called to be the father and mother of God’s “chosen people.” Sarah was
even caught snickering in her tent about the very idea of becoming a mother in
her old age. Moses, who had some sort of speech impediment, tried to beg off
when God called him to lead his people out of slavery. Because of his youth,
David wasn’t even called in from the fields for the selection process to be King
of Israel, yet God chose him over all his older and wiser brothers. The Prophet
Isaiah tried to beg off because he had a foul mouth, but God chose him to be a
prophet anyway, after washing his mouth out with a hot coal. The Prophet Jeremiah
also tried to beg off, using the excuse that he was too young and pathetic at
public speaking. God chose him anyway. Mary was barely a teenager when God
called her. Paul was a fanatic Christian basher, but God called him to make a 180
degree turn and convert thousands to the Christian way of life. Sts.
Francis of Assisi and Augustine of Hippo were playboys of the worst kind. The
scholarly St. Thomas Aquinas, when he was younger, was nicknamed “the dumb ox.”
He was so fat that they had to cut out part of the table so that he could reach
his plate. He became one of the Church’s most brilliant theologians. Elizabeth
Ann Seton was a married Episcopalian when God called her to convert to
Catholicism, to become a nun on the death of her husband, to start schools,
orphanages and hospitals all over the eastern coast of the United States and
finally to become one of a handful of American saints. These men and women join
a long list, not only of very ordinary people, but also a long list of misfits,
adulterers, losers, weaklings, incompetents, thieves and idiots that God has
called to important work.
You
are also called to called to carry on some part of Christ’s ministry to the
world. Yes, you! God has a special job for you to do in your life that no one
else can do. You cannot use the excuse that you are too young or too old, too
unworthy or too short on talent. One of the most regular themes in scripture is
this: God does not use the world’s standards for choosing those he calls. No,
he “chooses the weak and makes them strong in bearing witness to him.”
Personally,
I have always thought that marriage and the raising of children was the hardest
of vocation. I have always admired those of you who were called to marriage and
who have raised families. I don't know how you do it! I learned that when it
comes to marriage, you cannot judge a book by its cover. I have presided at
weddings where I had great confidence that the new couple would surely make it,
but didn't. I have presided at other weddings where I was very doubtful they
would last a year only to help them celebrate their 50th wedding anniversaries!
Obviously, God knows more about what he was doing than I did!
From
personal experience. I learned a long time ago, both as a seminarian myself and
as a seminary staff member for fourteen years, that the best seminarians do not
always make the best priests! In my own case, very few people had much hope for
me making it to priesthood, much less lasting this long! I am pretty much
surprised myself, but as Mary said to the angel, “with God, anything is
possible.”
Maybe
you are young and have not yet heard your life’s call. If not, just remember
that God has his eye of you right now, so be ready to "drop
everything" and "go for it!" Maybe you are right in the middle
of living out your vocation or maybe you have completed your life's vocation.
Either way, I hope you can look back over your vocation and feel how I feel
about my own call. My vocation is summed up in four words at the top of my new
tombstone down in Meade County - “simply amazed – forever
grateful.”