18th Sunday in Ordinary Time, August 3, 2025

Readings: Acts 7, 55-60; Psalm 97; Revelation 22, 12-20; John 17, 20-26.

"That They May All be One

Last Wednesday I took the Dart train downtown.  I got on the 12:44 at Forest Lane and exited 22 minutes later at Akard & Pacific.  I love to ride this train.  I sit in the first seat of the first car so I can watch the road ahead through the conductor’s cubicle.  On this Wednesday I was going to have lunch at Miguel’s Cantina and spend an hour talking Spanish with a good friend of mine.

After lunch and a great hour of Spanish conversation I caught 2:14 north bound, Parker Road train for Forest Lane & home.  We passed through the underground station of City Place and then arrived at Lover’s Lane.  At this station I watch the conductor come out of his cubicle and lock the door.  I am thinking, Is he taking a coffee break?

What he does, however, is go to the exit door, flip down a metal ramp, and extend part of it out of the train onto the raised platform.  Immediately in comes a young girl in a well used electric wheel chair.  She wheels over to the space right in front of me, spins diagonally, and parks. The conductor picks up the metal plank, unlocks the cubicle, settles himself inside, and off we fly.

The ambience in that train car does a 180 degree turn from casual indiference to awe struck reverence.  The girl was about 15, cute with an auburn pony tail, nice features with light freckles, and a trim upper body with a purple T shirt.  She was talking on the phone.  I never determined what the trouble was with her legs, or if she had any.  All I know is that she had the confidence in manuvering that wheel chair that came only from a lot of practice.

At Walnut Hill the conductor emerged from his cubicle again, did the arrangement with the door, and the girl wheeled out, saying a sweet, "Thank you," as she passed the conductor.  When the conductor came back in, the man across the aisle from me said to him, "Makes you grateful for what you got."  The conductor agreed. 

That young girl did two things in that Dart car just by getting on in her grateful and courageous way.  We were all more grateful for what we have.  Secondly, for a while we were one.  There was a felt difference in each of us, black, white, brown, young, and old. 

Jesus says he wants "That they may all be one."  Wow, do we blow this one!

Nevertheless, despite the past, today we are again called to help others: 1. appreciate, and 2. unite.  Granted, to enable others, I got to be in myself appreciative and united.  A subject for future homilies. 

This young, pony tailed girl touched us all just by her simple presence. 

How do you touch others into appreciation and unity?

Download the homily as an mp3 file.

Readings: 

 Exodus 32, 7-11, 13-14,   I see how stiff necked this people is.

Psalm 51,  I will rise and go to my father.

1 Timothy 1, 11-17, I am grateful to him who has strengthened me.

Luke 15, 1-32, The Prodigal Son (The Best).

 

 

Exodus observations :

What : a story, a long parable.  It has 2 parts, the exodus or exit from Egypt
and the years wandering in the desert.

Who: the work is all about Moses, but he
did not compose it.  Rather, it was put
together by a committee during the Babylonian Captivity, 555 before Christ.

Subject: it appears that the purpose of the
work was to encourage the people during the Babylonian Captivity.  It is not history and borrows stories from
other cultures.  For instance, the
parting of the Red Sea comes from a Mesopotamian creation myth and the 10
Commandments resemble the Code of Hammurabi.

Our Subject: The people have been bad, God is
mad at them, and Moses defends the people.

Sources: Good News Bible,
The New Interpreter’s Study Bible, Wikipedia

 

 

 

The Prodigal Son: A Work of Art

 This story is my favorite parable of the whole Bible.  Note one thing: this is story, not
history.   The author carefully crafts
his work of art to show how much God loves us unconditionally.  Let me give you three observations about the
son, three about the father, and an extra three to show you how astounding this
story is. 

First, the younger son:

 

        1.  He has no right to ask for inheritance.  None. 
By asking he is saying he wishes the father and the older son dead.  A symbolic murder.  Father can kill him for this.

        2.  He works feeding pigs instead of asking for
help from the temple.  This means he
rejects the religious tradition and is considered a traitor not only to the
family, but to the religion.  

    3.  So, as a horrible failure as a son of the
family and a son of the religious tradition, he decides to return.  He makes up his little speech and heads
home.  He is hungry to the point of
dying.  Do this or die.  Many listening Jews would say, Die.  

The Father: he actually commits as many crimes and sins as
the son.

 

    1.    
He runs down the road to
the son when he sees him coming.  A very
undignified action.  Outrageous.  People who emphasize conditional love point
out that the son at least came back. 
Despite this point, all the other elements of the parable point to a
father with unconditional love.

        2.  He embraced and kissed the son.  Huge violation of Jewish religious custom and
law.  By doing this the father positions
himself outside of the religious & cultural community.  He is a reject like the son. 

        3.  He cuts the son’s speech off before he can finish, eliminating the last sentence, “treat me as you would one of your
hired workers.”  And to make it worse, he
orders the servants to bring the finest robe, ring, and sandals. 

 

The robe, the ring, and the sandals:

        1.  The robe: restores the son’s dignity. 

        2.  The ring: gives authority to the son, even
equal to the father and certainly more than before he left.

        3.  The sandals: gives the son freedom.  Slaves were not given sandals so they would
not run away.  The father is doubling the
message he gave when he cut the son’s speech off before he could say the third
part about being treated as a servant.  

 

A word about the older son, because we so often identify
with him.  Two additional and final
points.

        1.  That he tells his father how he feels.  Great. 
In those days, it meant the father can kill him.  Today: communication. 

        2.  What is his challenge: acceptance of his
brother, his father, and himself; focus on gratitude for all he has; move from
trying to be a good boy to loving?  Any
one of these?  Or all?  All.  

I apologize for so much data.  There is even more.  The point is that the story is a carefully
crafted literary work of art that attempts to describe how totally unconditionally
loving our God is.

How does this image of God reflect your image of God? 

 

 

Source: The
Liberating Stories of Jesus, Francis Vanderwall (Dallas’ Open Window will
present Francis Saturday, September 28, for an all day seminar.  Welcome. 
More info below.  Sunday he will
be with us at Vines.  He is an ex-Jesuit
and one of my best old Jesuit buddies.)  
Download Fall 2013 Conference 9-20-13

 

 

 

 

Acts 5:   So they left the presence of the Sanhedrin, rejoicing that they had been found worthy to suffer dishonor for the sake of the name.

Revelation 5:  "To the one who sits on the throne and to the Lamb be blessing and honor, glory and might, forever and ever."

John 21:  So he said to them, "Cast the net over the right side of the boat and you will find something."  So they cast it, and were not able to pull it in because of the number of fish.

 

 

John Cade and John Stack start Mass

Thanks…     

Music,   Ben & Shonda

Outreach: $    250.00

Thanks again, Folks, for doing what you can.

 

Connie and John help with Communion

 

Rosemary's Blessing:

Walk softly upon the earth.
May its beauty forever surround you,
its wonders forever astound you.

May its wisdom delight you,
its music invite you
to dance and to play and to sing.

May you love and be loved by all that you meet;
may you know and practice compassion.

Rejoice in the earth and in all of creation.
Rejoice in life.

 

a parting blessing – alfred v. fedak – 2008

 

Says Our Dear Harper, "Welcome in, Everybody."

 

Readings:

Matthew 21, 1-11, Jesus enters Jerusalem, (the entrance)

Isaiah 50, 4-7.   I gave my back to those who beat me.

 Psalm 22,  My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?

Philippians 2, 6-11,   He emptied himself

 Matthew 26 & 27,    The Passion.

 

 

Palm Sunday procession beginning.

 

Sorry, we have no homily today.  Long readings. 

 

The Wedding of Scott and Giana at The Windsor at Hebron Park.

 

Frank Costanza ring bearer.  Of all the weddings I have had the privilege of performing, Frank at 93 is the prettiest ring bearer I have ever seen.

 

Mr. & Mrs. Giana and Scott Booth.

 

The beginning of a new life.

Readings:

 Isaiah 35, 4-7, The eyes of the blind will be opened.

Psalm 146,    Praise the Lord, my soul.

James 2, 1-5, 21-22, 27,  Show no partiality

Mark 7, 31-37, Jesus heals the deaf & mute man.

 

 

  

Homily:

 

Last Sunday Stack reminded us about how Moses told the people of Israel that they would have their own land promised by Yahweh.  And how after Moses’ death Joshua and others wiped out the Cannanite tribes who resided there, and just moved in. 

 

 

The theme today is that of healing.  During the week I was touched by two visuals of a lack of healing for people.  The first was the visual of a dead child lying on a beach in Turkey, whose family were trying to get from Syria to safety in Europe.  His family was one of thousands escaping from war torn Syria, escaping death by the King’s military, or by the rebel fighters, or by ISIS jihadists.  Newspeople often refer to them as ‘immigrants’–-yet their country is in civil war and there is hardly a safe place for anyone on any side.  They are refugees.  They leave everything behind.  They cross the Mediterranean in rubberized boats or rafts.  Many don’t even make it to the first stop in Turkey.  These thousands of refugees are leaving their homes, leaving their land, in search of a safe place for their families, for their children. 

 

 

The second visual that struck me this week was from a series of articles in the National Catholic Reporter on the ‘Doctrine of Discovery’ and its impact on people over centuries.  The ‘Doctrine of Discovery’ is found in papal bulls beginning in 1436; that’s almost 600 years ago.  One example is a papal bull from 1493, after Columbus’ ‘discovery’ of the Americas.  This papal bull gave Ferdinand and Isabella “full and free power, authority and jurisdiction of every kind” over almost all of the Americas, except for part of modern-day Brazil and a few islands.  Some say this was the beginning of international law as each succeeding papal bull would quote or reference those that came before.  When, in the late 1400’s discoverers were finding lands far away from Christian Europe, they found these lands occupied with non-Christian peoples, tribes and civilizations.  The papal bulls gave Christian discoverers full power and authority over all non-Christian peoples in these lands.  This meant the land could be claimed by the Christian discoverer (like for Spain or for France, etc.) and the non-Christian people could be enslaved, made to become Christian, even killed if they resisted.

 

 

Fast forward to 1823.  This Doctrine of Discovery was legitimized in a ruling by Supreme Court Chief Justice John Marshall.  His ruling maintained that Native Americans had the right to ‘occupy’ land, but not have full ownership, and that tribes were dependent on the federal government.

 

 

So the two visuals that touched me this week were the thousands of refugees fleeing Syria, especially the little boy lying dead on the beach; and the millions of peoples in the Americas, Africa, the Pacific islands, etc., dispossessed of their lands, culture and religion, to a large extent due to a series of papal bulls and the Doctrine of Discovery. 

 

 

What would healing look like for the people of Syria fleeing war and devastation?  What would healing look like for the offspring of the indigenous peoples of North and South America? of Africa? of  the pacific islands?   

 

 

And how do I individually, or as a member of this Christian community, promote healing in my own world?

 

Readings:

1 Kings 3:5, 7-12,  Give your servant an understanding heart.  

Psalm 119,   Lord, I love your commands.

Romans 8,  28-30,  We know that all things work for good for those who love God…

Matthew 13, 44-52,  Kingdom Parables

 

Kevin and John ready to start Mass.

                                               

Homily:

 

We heard of Solomon’s call to be king of people of God

We heard in Paul’s Letter our call to be “conformed to the image of Jesus” 

And we heard in Matthew the parables about putting the treasure buried in a field and the pearl of great price ahead of everything else we could have.

                                                                                                             

The Offertory helpers, Bill, Paul and Carrie.

                                                        

Our word for today is asking how we hear our call and how do we answer our call?

I remember the answer I was given growing up (long long ago), hearing it in sermons and in weekend retreats at Grand Coteau, Louisiana. We were told that we are called to be holy and holiness was presented as perfection— You know the quote from Matthew: “Be you perfect as your heavenly father is perfect”. According to Matthew Fox, in his book Original Blessing, the quote from Matthew’s Gospel, “Be you perfect…”, does not refer to moral perfection and does not have here the later Greek meaning of being totally free of imperfection. The word ‘teleioi’, translated as “be you perfect”, actually meant “to be full-grown, to be complete or whole”.

                                                                                                                                    

Our musicians, Celeste, Shonda and Ben.

                                                                               

Remember also how we were given the lives of the saints, in which they were portrayed as achieving perfection and we were taught to imitate those perfect people. The lives of the saints inspired me, but there was no way I could live up to the idealized stories of their lives of perfection. Going to seminary at age 18 and to a monastery at age 22 was how I chased after the ideal of holiness as perfection.

Remember also how we were taught to make an examination of conscience, detailing everything we thought or did wrong–not about what we thought or did that was good or generous or loving or courageous or compassionate, not how we were becoming more full-grown or complete. The implication was that we were lacking and in sin almost all the time; that was scary folks. We were told we were imperfect, not holy, and I took that to mean I didn’t measure up, I wasn’t good enough. We were taught that there was a time, in the beginning when our original parents were in a paradise and were good/perfect, and connected to God. But that in Adam we sinned and were separated from God.  

                                                                                                                                                         

Georgie and Mom, Michelle.

 

What if we came to learn in the last 400 years, like Matthew Fox did, that there was never a state of perfection in our world, that creation in our universe has been going on for 20 billion years and that our universe has been expanding all that time, and is this moment expanding at unimaginable speed. It’s not really about being perfect.

In all creation beauty and imperfection go together. Every tree is beautiful, but if you get up close you will see that every tree is imperfect. The same is true of the human body. Every human body is beautiful, but every human body is imperfect. In creation, in nature, imperfection is not a sign of the absence of God. It’s a sign that the ongoing creation we are part of is no easy thing. We bear scars from the living process, and we can and must celebrate those scars, those imperfections.

                                                                                                                                                                        

Georgie's sister, Zoe.

 

My take on updating the idea of holiness includes thinking about how we accept imperfection, including our own, and about how we are growing, not to be perfect, but to be more complete, more whole, more caring for ourselves and others and more caring for mother nature and our place in the universe.

Yesterday I was visiting a friend who, when I said I was doing the Mass today, asked what my homily would be about and I said holiness. My friend said, I just finished watching a Ted Talk by Ann Lamont, a favorite author of mine. She said “Laughter is carbonated holiness.”

 

Question: How do you think of ‘holiness’ in our time?

 

Georgie's sister, Tori.

 

 

And Georgie's brother, Buddy.