Detachment

In the Gospel at Mass today (Matthew 19: 16-22), a young man approached Jesus and asked what "good" he must do to "gain eternal life."  Jesus responded that "there is only One who is good"--God.  Then he told him the minimum requirements for eternal life: to follow the commandments which were given for humanity's spiritual health and ultimate well-being.  When the young man responded that he followed these commandments, yet felt that something was missing, Jesus challenged him to give everything away and to follow Him.  The young man "went away sad, for he had many possessions." 

Jesus told the young man that God is the only good, the greatest good.  No created good should come before Him.  If we choose a lesser good as more important that the greatest good, we've got our priorities wrong, we will be unhappy, and we will risk losing eternal life.  The young man was too attached to material things which were more important to him than following Jesus.  He could not let go of earthly treasures and his hands, full of these lesser goods, were not open to receiving "treasure in heaven."  He needed detachment.

Mother Mary Teresa Tallon, the foundress of the Parish Visitors of Mary Immaculate, to whom I am giving a retreat this week, wrote an article dated July 30, 1926 and entitled "On Poverty and Detachment."  She points out that true wisdom means having one's priorities right:

"But the Gift of Wisdom or spiritual detachment ... means freedom from all earthly things in order to reach an entire attachment to God and to the Will of God.  Detachment brings every virtue, or it presupposes the possession of every virtue.  True humility, which is the foundation of detachment ... means freedom from self with its aspirations toward egotism....  The possessor of the gift of detachment has every theological and Christian virtue.  Why?  Because the great obstacle SELF is eliminated, the spirit rises to Heaven, and the good God is brought into full possession."

Possessions or honors or relationships--any good that is less than God--can weigh us down.  They can distract us from the "one thing necessary" (see Luke 10: 42) and can lead us to lose track of our priorities and what is most important--eternal life.  The focus on self, egotism accompanied by selfishness or self-pity, is especially burdensome.   But detachment frees us to fly:

"So detachment means freedom from self, freedom from the earth, to rise like a great eagle--like a great angel, rather--up to God."

We can let go of all and surrender ourselves completely because God has done this.  Jesus gave completely of Himself, offering Himself for the salvation of every human being at the Last Supper and on the Cross.  He continues to offer Himself for us and to us in the Eucharist.  Having received all--our life, our talents, God Himself--we can give all in return.  We don't do this grudgingly but with joy.

The saint whom the Church honors today--St. Bernard--had a deep personal relationship with God.  His commentary on the Song of Songs addresses the spousal relationship that God desires to have with every human person.  Love cannot be forced or imposed, so God has continually proposed to humanity and to each individual.  In the Gospel Jesus reached out in love to the young man who could not return love for love.  He wanted to know what was the minimum he had to do in his relationship with God.  A marriage based on minimum requirements won't last.  Love doesn't ask "What can I get away with in our relationship?" or "What's the least I have to do to keep you satisfied?"  Love always asks "What more can I do to show you I love you?" 

God has shown us the vastness and depths of His love for us.  What is our response? 

"Remember the Marvels the Lord has done"

I prepared my homily this morning but neglected to look at the Responsorial Psalm and its antiphon "Remember the marvels the Lord has done." When I got up to proclaim the Gospel after hearing those words repeated between the verses of the psalm, I thought, "How appropriate!"

I'm in New York, at Fordham University, where we've just finished our annual meeting of the board of directors of the Apostleship of Prayer. In the morning I gave the director's annual report and Fr. Phil Hurley, S.J. followed me with his youth and young adult director's report which included videos and slide shows from our "Hearts on Fire" events. Having shared those two reports about the good things that we've been able to accomplish, we celebrated Mass with Archbishop Robert Carlson presiding. Thus, when I got up to preach, those words of the Responsorial Psalm resonated deeply in my heart.

We have much for which to be thankful and it is very clear that all we do is God's work. Our Mass readings today were just as appropriate as the Psalm Response. The story of Joseph, Jacob's son, and his brothers is a clear lesson that God takes what we do--our weaknesses, sins, failings, mistakes, and errors--and turns them into good if we let Him. So we can trust. That is also the lesson of the Gospel (Luke 10: 7-15) which challenges us to go forth with very little, trusting in God. It would be nice, I told the board, to have an endowment of a couple million dollars for the work we do, but not having one leads us to trust year by year on God's Providential care. Somehow, through the generosity of many good people, we can present a balanced budget to the board.

I get anxious about this. I breathe a sigh of relief when the annual board meeting is over. And I also hear the Lord telling me: "Let go. Don't worry. Let me handle things. Just offer yourself to me one day and a time and I'll take care of the rest."

Mistaken Identity?

My good Jesuit friend Fr. Rob Kroll, who writes periodically for the Magis Institute, had a good reflection on today's first reading (Acts 14: 5-18):

We live in a culture that idolizes Hollywood stars graced with beautiful faces, athletes endowed with muscular bodies, rock stars showered with fame and fortune, and politicians wielding power. The attraction of beauty, fame, wealth, and power-and the desire to worship individuals possessing them-has existed in all societies and epochs, of course. The great temptation of the "rich and famous" is that they allow the adulation of the masses to go to their heads. They forget the divine source of all their gifts, and become puffed up with pride. Treated like gods by others, they begin to think themselves gods.

In today's reading from Acts, the crowds in Lystra seek to idolize Paul and Barnabas, worshiping them as gods after they heal a man crippled from birth. How might Donald Trump, Moammar Gadhafi, or Charlie Sheen respond if their supporters cried out like the Lycaonians, "The gods have come down to us in human form"? Fortunately Barnabas and Paul tear their garments and direct the crowds to the living God, humbly asserting that they themselves are mere mortals.
Each of us, too, can be tempted to pride. We might secretly aspire to be worshipped in some measure by others for our wealth, power, beauty, and talents-perhaps even our holiness! Let's remember today that all good gifts come from God and are to be used for His greater glory. May we humbly make the psalmist's words our own: "Not to us, O Lord, not to us but to your name give glory" (115:1).


I preached about this a little differently at the Jesuit retreat house in the St. Louis area where I began a retreat with 34 women this afternoon. The people of Lystra mistake Paul and Barnabas for "gods" because they see something of the divine in them. They perceive grace or supernatural power at work in and through them. This is how it should be for all of us.


As images of God we should reflect God to the world. As members of the Body of Christ, people should see Christ in us. I'm reminded of a song by the contemporary Christian musician Warren Barfield, "Mistaken." It brings these two reflections--Fr. Kroll's and mine--together. Here are a few of the lyrics:

Oh the more and more I disappear
The more and more He becomes clear
'Til everyone I talk to hears His voice
And everything I touch feels the warmth of His hand
'Til everyone I meet
Sees Jesus in me
This is all I wanna be
I wanna be mistaken
For Jesus

Do they only see who we are
When who we are should be pointing them to Christ
Cause we are who He chose to use
To spread the news
Of the way the truth and the life
Oh I want all I am to die
So all He is can come alive

This is the great mystery of the Christian life. In being emptied of ourselves we are filled with our truest, deepest self--Christ. We can say with St. Paul, "I have been crucified with Christ; yet I live, no longer I, but Christ lives in me" (Galatians 2: 19-20). In dying to ourselves we are born to real life.

Detachment

I was on Relevant Radio's call-in spiritual direction show "The Inner Life" today. Every Friday the topic is determined by the Gospel of the following Sunday and today's topic was "Detachment." The Gospel on Sunday is Luke 14: 25-33 and has the following line of Jesus: "anyone of you who does not renounce all his possessions cannot be my disciple."

I began the show talking about the context for this saying of Jesus. "Great crowds," the Gospel says, "were traveling with Jesus...." Why? Was it because they liked His teaching? Or was it perhaps because He was able to feed thousands and heal many? Were they interested only in the earthly benefits that Jesus could bring them?

To make sure that they were following Him for the right reasons, I think, Jesus gave them a challenging word, telling them that they must be ready to let go of everything they might hold dear in this life in order to receive eternal life. He made it clear to the crowds that if anything on this side of eternity got in the way of the goal of eternal life--a relationship, possessions, honor or position--they should be ready to renounce it.

St. Ignatius makes the same point in the "Spiritual Exercises" where he writes: "Man is created to praise, reverence, and serve God our Lord, and by this means to save his soul. The other things on the face of the earth are created for man to help him in attaining the end for which he is created. Hence, man is to make use of them in as far as they help him in the attainment of his end, and he must rid himself of them in as far as they prove a hindrance to him. ... Our one desire and choice should be what is more conducive to the end for which we are created."

This makes good sense and the world understands this lesson well when it comes to its plans. I can just imagine Jesus saying that the people of the world are much more clever and focused than the children of the Kingdom of God. Worldly people manage their time according to their goals. They plan everything around succeeding in business. They have a slogan: "If you fail to plan, you plan to fail." If this is true for success in business and acquiring earthly wealth, how much more true is it for success in eternity and acquiring heavenly treasure?

Jesus didn't mince words about being ready to renounce everything for the sake of the Kingdom. But I can't help thinking that a lot of people in the large crowd that was following Him slipped away. It's not a message people like to hear, then or now.