Some time you just have an itch you can’t scratch. It happens. We have gone along in life and accomplished some goals and objectives. Maybe we are the “chief” of this or that, and like Zacchaeus are wealthy. But there is something missing, something slightly off – we thought it would different after we accomplished goals. It is the thought we just can’t put our finger on. It is the itch we can’t scratch.
I suspect that is where Zacchaeus is in life. He is chief tax collector, a wealthy man – and clearly scorned by the people. Which makes sense. A tax collector had to buy the position from the Romans – so you have your investment to recover. The Romans then expect the year taxes to be collected and paid. And you course you need to make a living and some profit for a rainy day. How much profit? The Romans didn’t care. All we know is that Zacchaeus is a wealthy man, but as become so at the cost of his relationships, his people, friends, and his heritage of faith. Continue reading
In our gospel story, the tax collector went home justified. Sure, he has been extorting people, shaking them down for the Roman overlords and some profit for himself. Sure, he is considered a traitor and an outcast from Jewish life – someone whose life is “breaking bad.” But he has reached a moment of conversion, right? He is about to get right with God; get justified. Here is the one moment, a moment when all the trappings of life are torn away, he finally sees himself in humble relationship to God: “O God, be merciful to me a sinner.” The tax collector went home justified. 
I am partial to the Gospel according to Luke. I think his writing is good at telling the story and leaving room for the hearer to work though the implications of it all. Some of the most memorable parables – the Good Samaritan, the Prodigal Son, Lazarus and the Rich Man, and more are all unique to Luke’s gospel. Also, Luke is particular about his choice of words and phrases – the small nuances of language find their place in his telling of Jesus’ story.
In the first reading, we hear the end of the story of Naaman, a Syrian general, who has just been cured of his leprosy. But we don’t get to hear the start of the story. It turns out that when Naaman comes to Israel he encounters the prophet Elisha. Naaman has come bearing all manner of riches and gifts, but Elisha wants none of it. He simply instructs Naaman to wash seven times in the Jordan. Pretty simple and ordinary, yes? 
You have to feel for the disciples. In recent gospels Jesus has been asking some fairly extraordinary things of them – to give away their possessions, to forgive countless times, to take up his cross, and the list goes on. No wonder then, they ask for more faith. They don’t feel up to what is being asked of them, are anxious about the challenges ahead, and just can’t imagine accomplishing what is being asked of them.
“…between us and you a great chasm is established to prevent anyone from crossing who might wish to go from our side to yours or from your side to ours.…” Such are words spoken about Lazarus and the rich man, traditionally known as Dives. The words describe their fates in the afterlife: Lazarus comforted by Abraham while Dives languishes in a hellish afterlife.
The parable of the Lost Sheep is the gospel message on the 15th anniversary of 9-11, a terrible day of death and destruction. A day on which no one thinks about winners and losers. A day in which we mourn and honor our dead. A day we Franciscans remember our brother Fr. Mychal Judge, OFM – a NYC fire chaplain who lost his life in the line of duty when the first tower fell. Mychal went out searching for the lost, to bring them home to the safety of the flock. Fr. Mychal Judge, truly a good shepherd. Truly a hero – not because he died on 9-11, but because his arms were always open, his eyes ever seeking to be Christ for others. Obedient unto death. 
It seems that Hurricane Hermine is going to be a cross for more than just the Florida Big Bend area. The jet stream and a high pressure ridge are conspiring to make Hermine sit off the east coast of the Middle Atlantic states and bring record rains. We should especially pray for the areas affected.
The priest I lived with in Kenya was away for a much-needed break. He assured me it would be a quiet week. Which is of course a guarantee that something will happen. Perhaps not monumental in the way of things, but yes indeed is was a memorable week. It was the week the Kenyan Security Forces came looking for the leaders of the Rwandan refugee community – of which my name was on the list. We were all in a meeting when they showed up. We all slipped out the windows in the back of the church. All very dramatic, but in truth I don’t think they tried that hard to catch us. Still, kind of memorable to be on a top ten list if even for an hour. But that wasn’t the most memorable. 
It is a gathering unlike any other. Isaiah describes it as people coming from all corners of the world – every make and model, color and variety. Citizens of every nation from east and west, north and south. All streaming to Jerusalem, to God’s holy mountain bring their offerings of worship. All invited by God, all coming to the Lord God, all of them seeing the glory of God.
friarmusings 