Repayment in the Christian life is a repayment not of gold or silver, but faith and devotion to the Lord and the present cause of heaven. The cause of heaven on earth never changes as people and generations do. I think of my grandparents, great-grandparents, and even great-great grandparents, two of whom are resting silently one minute up the road in Rural Cemetery, and I think how they have all come and gone. But, during their lives of faith and devotion to God, their cause of heaven was no different than ours. Not even from the 1st century Thessalonians whom Paul writes to so graciously, nor anyone in the whacky world of the Middle Ages and after. The cause of heaven on earth is, of course, living the Gospel, living it to its fullness, and bringing it to the world. Some sectors of Christianity do this well, while others tend to be a bit more timid and silent when speaking is required. Giving to Caesar what belongs to Caesar. The word Caesar refers to the worldly powers we address. It does not mean giving our soul away, and selling it to the devil, even in the smallest way. Giving to Caesar what belongs to Caesar would be more consistent with being a good, productive citizen to the best of our ability. One who brings peace to our communities, not causing little or large wars all over the place. I feel sad for any Christian who is so wrapped up in today’s political scene to the point where their entire life, or much of it, is given over to Caesar. Where God is given little or nothing. It’s a sad sight indeed, watching someone, anyone, live totally for this world when life with God, Mary and the Saints awaits us. A Catholic giving to Caesar what belongs to Caesar is realized in virtues lived out. Faith working through love; works of mercy. Again, I think of the infamous St. John’s Soup Kitchen, an obvious choice. A Parish and dedicated group of volunteers from about 30 different zip codes feeding those who really are hungry. There’s no fake hunger in the hundreds who line up. Christ is in their faces. Whether they know it or not, we’re supposed to know that holy truth about them. We give Caesar what actually builds up Caesar in the sense of bringing God’s kingdom to our communities through the living out of our Catholic faith. Jesus no where says, “Give Caesar nothing.” Instead, by giving our all to Christ Jesus, we give some of that all to Caesar through loving works of mercy and good citizenship. We share Christ within the little world we inhabit. With that said, giving God what belongs to God gets a little muddy nowadays, and it has for quite some time, especially with us Catholic folk. Speaking from years of observation, many Catholics have a bad habit of either not seeing things as they are, or making excuses for unfaithful choices. For example, any Catholic Christian who lacks the fortitude to defend human life, God’s greatest gift before eternal life, and defend it properly from conception through the natural death God has written for us, that’s a Catholic who gives to Caesar what belongs to God. Any Catholic who supports and defends the total destruction of a child in the womb of its mother, and fails to see that’s what really happens, waters down their faith to the point of jeopardizing their own salvation. That person can receive Communion a million times over, but such reception never catches up to their giving to Caesar what belongs to God. And that’s the seriousness of this present day issue that many refuse to address. We want every day to be happy, and joyful, and the Patriots winning the Super Bowl every year. Funny how don’t get tired of that. But some of us get tired of addressing the most important moral issue of today. Catholics who get tired of defending human life, or fail to altogether, would have gotten tired of defending the horrors of slavery in 19th century America. Have the fortitude to defend God’s number one gift, human life. Always. Always. Light a firecracker in our souls if we have to. It must be defended against the forces of evil. I’ve said it in the past, and it’s worth repeating; From conception, God owns us. From the Book of Deuteronomy, Chapter 10; The heavens, even the highest heavens, belong to the Lord, your God, as well as the earth and everything on it. We belong to the Lord. He’s the Master; we’re his humble servants, imitating the servanthood of Jesus himself. Our lives are certainly not owned by any political party, especially one that speaks and acts like they’re in charge of life, replacing God’s ownership, deciding who lives and who dies. Or even a lead candidate who labels himself a “good Catholic” from one side of his mouth, and then says from the other side, “You can snuff out that child. At any point. Even after birth” That’s a Catholic who does not speak for the Catholic Church. That’s a Catholic who misrepresents the Catholic faith in the most serious way. I fear his salvation as he closes in on his own death. It is a fearful thing to stand before the living God, especially if we did not defend his most innocent creation. Catholics respect and defend all human life. That is our fundamental teaching, and not the personal choice of some guy running for office. Another muddy area for Catholics that follows the preeminent issue of life, an issue where we give to Caesar what belongs to God, is immigration and immigrants. It seems from my observation that many Catholics have a difficult time seeing the face of Christ in them. Seeing immigrants, real human beings, in the context only of legal citizenship, boundaries, territories, and walls, prevents us from having a vision that sees the face of Christ in that person. Seeing immigration in that manner places a non-Christian blindfold over our eyes. That, my friends, is a grave sin in which many Catholics knowingly or unknowingly are complicit. At the heart of our faith is the divinely revealed teaching to love and support – by word and deed – the lowly, the despised, the poor, the hungry, the refugee, the immigrant. God himself defended the widow and orphan. Check the Old Testament. It’s all over the text. Give to God what belongs to God, and love and support the immigrant, understanding that boundaries and territories are very important, but they are not the last say when living out our Catholic faith on this very human issue. God is all powerful and eternal. Caesar is passing. Standing before God, Caesar is a wimp. But God uses Caesar to bring love, empathy, and a boatload of relief to our brothers and sisters. From the unborn (the highest moral issue of our day), the sick & dying elderly, the hungry on Temple Street, to the immigrant who is today’s widow and orphan. We may despise them, but God will defend them. Do we wish to fight against God? We know who eventually wins. We give to God what belongs to God when we live, not just some parts of our Catholic faith, but the fullness of it. That’s the repayment God expects and nothing short of it.

That’s one tough king. Hard to satisfy. But in truth, Jesus our King, the King of the Universe, is not hard to satisfy. All we need to do is extend empathy; compassion; mercy; forgiveness; love your neighbor; feed the poor; defend life in all its stages, from the unborn to the elderly sick who are dying. All we need to do to satisfy Jesus the King is listen and heed his words; “Be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect.” What’s so hard about that? I bet at least half of you are perfect. Or at least you think so. I read a novel on St. Francis this past week as I did my annual retreat in the quiet and solitude of New Hampshire in the White Mountains. I didn’t want to leave. But Jesus said, “Excuse me sir, get in your car and drive 150 miles south to beautiful, noisy Grove St.” “You’re the boss,” I said. In the novel written on St. Francis, which touches on many of the real situations of his life, one part that stood out was the name that St. Francis called himself quite often. Actually, he had two surnames for himself. The first one, which I will slightly alter since we are in Church, was the name synonymous with Bother Donkey. There’s another word for donkey I will not say here. And that’s the word he called himself, meaning Brother Donkey. The second name St. Francis called himself when he realized he was too puffed up, or too filled with pride, when not giving God all the credit when his newly found Order was running on all cylinders, was the name worm. And when St. Francis called himself a worm; “I am a worm and no man,” he meant it. There was no false humility. Whenever he arrived too close to that border, at the edge of thinking he was somehow good and perfect, he would bring himself down faster than you can say “Lickety Split.” His purpose was to bring himself back, through the grace of God, to emptying out any overhanging pride in the success of his Order, returning to ground zero where Christ is all. Where Jesus is running the show, and the Franciscan Order. Where our Savior is the director of this opera. Where the Crucified One is the impetus behind the Kingdom of God spreading like wildfire in our lives. Wouldn’t it be just heavenly if we all did so? That each of us spread the Kingdom of God like a scorched earth policy. Spreading the Kingdom throughout families, communities, and nations the love of God that is found in Christ Jesus our Lord. That can make a person feel really tiny, realizing what little we accomplish at the end of the day. So, who wants to be a Saint now? I am a worm. But a worm that God loves unconditionally. There was one worm who wormed his way into the wedding banquet of the king’s son. “Go out into the streets,” the king said, “and invite everyone you see. The blind, the lame, the crippled, the beggars, the prostitutes and tax collectors, even Matthew sitting at his post. Invite also a couple UPS drivers.” God help us! And there in the midst of this large group of invitees is one guy still wearing his brown uniform. Just about the same color as a worm. And we know why he showed up wearing his uniform… He had to work overtime the night of the wedding banquet because of all those goods you people order online. After being invited by one of the king’s servants he said, “I need to finish my deliveries so I can get to the wedding banquet, the biggest party in town. I don’t want to miss out on it.” He enters the hall. The groom’s father, who is the king, sees what looks to be a guy wearing a brown uniform, with brown hat and brown socks to match. He walks over to this guy dressed like a worm and says, “That’s not a wedding garment. You insult my son wearing those company manufactured clothes. Time to throw you out. You can go eat at McDonald’s for the rest of your life.” (Talk about Purgatory!). And St. Francis got tossed out. Who is this king who would throw out St. Francis because he’s not dressed properly for the wedding banquet? You know what I think? (I’m glad you asked.) I think this king is not the king we think he is. He’s not the King of Heaven. He’s the king of materialism. The king of profit. The king of the external. The king who judges the outside. He’s the king who subscribes to the dictates of this world. And there was only one type of person he could toss out of his son’s wedding banquet. And that person was a Saint. Getting tossed out of this type of wedding banquet was the best thing that could have happened to St. Francis, lest he become more than a worm. St. Francis, and many other Saints in the Communion, perfected humility to an extreme we will never know, likely. There may be one or two of us. Maybe. Either way, getting tossed out of certain types of banquets in this life, banquets that do not hold to a Christian life, is a very good thing. Sometimes getting tossed out serves our eternal well-being. Even if we have to eat at McDonald’s once in a while in a brown suit. “I am a worm and no man.” Thank you, St. Francis, for a really good retreat.

Predictions are predictable. What’s predictable about predictions is that some predictions are wrong, others may be correct, and others still are unpredictable. We have a Presidential election in one month. Many folks are making predictions that this one is going to win, or that one is going to win. You can choose who this and that are. One side’s prediction will prove wrong, while the other prediction, which is no more than a guess, will prove correct. One group will smile, laugh, say “I told you so,” and pat themselves on the back like a politician. While the incorrect side will keep every ambulance in Central Massachusetts busy the day a victor is known. Off to the hospital they’ll go to treat a broken, angry heart. That’s my prediction. Jesus makes a couple predictions in today’s Gospel. His first prediction concerns himself, and how the stone will be rejected, and, after three days in the darkness and silence of Joseph’s tomb, become the Cornerstone. The Cornerstone of life eternal that will never be reversed. While we live in a time in history when religion is a four-letter word for a good percentage of the universe, I predict that many of the lost souls will return to the Cornerstone of their lives, the only One who offers salvation. Jesus’ prediction of being rejected to the point of death, on the face of it, spells trouble for him and his followers. It’s a stark prediction that admits to our world having a certain degree of momentary power over him, the Son of God. He predicts, “Okay, you’re going to kill me for telling you the truth of heaven, and how I teach the things of heaven so that you may know some peace, reject all violence, from looting to abortion, the worse violence of all.” Then he further tells his hearers, “I know you’re going to reject my message, toss it aside like a bad apple, and move ahead with crucifixion. The Stone will be killed.” And so it came to pass. His prediction was spot on. But the greatness of Jesus’ prediction doesn’t end on Golgotha. The stone becomes the Cornerstone. He becomes our Cornerstone through his resurrection. And the truth of this prediction by the Lord; we own it. So, what comes from this prediction is the question, “Are you ready to see them again? Where death is no more; where cancer is eternally absent; where peace is fully known; where forgiveness is never needed, that hardest of virtues gone forever; where joy is complete. Are you prepared to see them?” That’s the prediction of the Cornerstone, and the Cornerstone is Christ Jesus. His second prediction is the prediction of the kingdom being taken away from those who, not only reject the stone, but the Cornerstone. This is a prediction with hard results. The prevailing thought nowadays is that everyone is going off to heaven when we die. I’m pretty confident in saying that’s not going to happen. The Scriptures tell us to work out our salvation with fear and trembling. There’s way too much in Scripture that says this “direct ticket to heaven for everyone” is a bad prediction on our part. Everyone flying off to heaven after our last breath on earth dismisses the harsh reality of sin. These are fearful words our Lord speaks today; “The kingdom of heaven will be taken away from you and given to a people that will produce its fruit.” Not the fruit of an angry world. That’s the rotten fruit from the Garden of Eden. We live and share the fruits of heaven in the midst of a twisted and perverted generation. Paul provides the list of fruits, and a beautiful list it is. Whatever is true; truth grounded in our Christian faith. Whatever is honorable, just, pure, lovely, gracious, any excellence, anything worthy of praise. With each of these virtues that Paul writes to the Philippians, we instinctively know and understand how each of these virtues connect to Christ, and not twisting them into a false representation of God. Every holy list should remain holy, untainted by human predictions. Our Lord’s predictions today give us two understandings of our faith; that he is the stone rejected, moving three days ahead to become the Cornerstone of eternal life. He promises that the everlasting part of our human condition will be one of complete joy. And second, that a straight ticket to heaven is no guarantee for every person in the history of the world. God is the Judge who will make the final call. But he makes it clear that Paul’s list of good fruit is a requirement to be included in his eternal kingdom.

The usual daily wage. Obviously there was no Union Local # 170 from my UPS days to represent the workers who entered the vineyard early in the morning, working hard and sweating all day, watching the last workers receive a usual daily wage – meaning a full day’s pay. Then came their time to be paid, thinking they would receive more. “We’re getting double the usual wage.” They were disappointed. After listening to this parable, don’t you think our hearts should go out to all the dedicated, hard workers who bore the brunt of the hot sun and day’s work? After all, they hauled in 10 times more corn, wheat, tobacco, and tomatoes than the 5:00 p.m. people. The 5:00 a.m. people loaded up 3 full carts, whereas the last ones being paid first and handsomely, realized it was dinner time and probably ate half of what they picked. One gets hungry being idle all day. The usual daily wage speaks to God being the Vineyard Owner and his system of payment. It would be nice if the U.S. Tax Code was this simple. One easy system. Where fewer CPA’s and lawyers are needed. But this usual daily wage of the Vineyard Owner; isn’t this God’s system of payment, the reward for doing his work, for living our faith in the wider vineyard, in the outer world? God’s system of payment is not complicated at all, even though we find ways to complain about it. It’s either Hades or Heaven, with a possible holdover in Purgatory. The usual daily wage is going to lift our souls and eventually our bodies next to all those great Saints, many of whom died for Christ, and many of whom lived for Christ from birth. Over the centuries, how many parents dedicated the life of their child to God’s service? Many have, becoming Saints as a result. We take the opposite approach today, where parents guide and lead their children softly into the person the child is meant to be, hoping and praying they arrive at the vineyard of the Lord and collect the usual daily wage someday. What happened to dedicating a child to God’s service for life? Does that happen anymore? Anyway, the system of payment God has set up for our practice of faith, hope, and love is a very simple, generous system of payment. The timing of entrance into the vineyard of serving the Lord is less important than the vineyard being entered. The usual daily wage will not be received until after we die. So all people have until that time to enter the vineyard. Yes, there are some good payments along the way; assisting the poor, marriage & family, good friendships. But the final usual daily wage is at the end of the day, if you know what I mean. Which brings me to St. Paul’s internal struggle in this awesome 2nd reading. Have you ever had an internal struggle between your life and your death, and which one you want at that point in life? This is what Paul struggles with in his Letter to the Philippians. But it’s not the usual sort of struggle. His words: “I am caught between the two. I long to depart this life and be with Christ, for that is far better.” Why? Because he wants his usual daily wage. Then he continues, “Yet that I remain in the flesh” – that he remains in the vineyard – “is more necessary for your benefit.” Such is the life of an Apostle. Paul’s struggle that is centered in collecting of his usual daily wage, my friends, is a good struggle. His faith in Christ is so explicit and so internally deep that he has the best of both worlds. His present life of doing God’s work fulltime, and the life with Christ in heaven that he knows awaits him. He fears neither death nor life, for the good reason of loving his life, because he knows the usual daily wage is the payment that lasts forever. And remember, St. Paul entered the vineyard a little on the late side. Our situation is no different from St. Paul’s. He loves his life. His internal struggle is that of, not living a few years, but having lived a lifetime. He’s done much. Paul’s is similar to the struggle of an elder person who knows their earthly life is drawing to a close. “When is he going to call me?” Maybe even, “Why has he taken all my Apostle friends and left me here?” What makes this a healthy struggle is maintaining a steadfast faith until our last moment in this vineyard. Don’t lose your faith in Christ. It’s your precious pearl. Lastly, a most important understanding is that Paul does not own his life. God owns his life. When reading Paul’s words here, one can get the impression that he – Paul – will decide when he will depart to be with Christ. No, he won’t! The great Apostle would be the first to tell us so. He can write these words about his life and death and which is better because he has given his every breath to Christ Jesus his Lord. Christ is the Master; Paul is the servant. God owns the life of St. Paul in the same way he owns ours. The final decision of life and death belongs to the Vineyard Owner who doles out the usual daily wage at the proper time.

There’s the good side of God forgetting our iniquities with total forgetfulness. And, there’s the bad side of God remembering our sins in detail, as today’s first reading from Sirach notes. It’s a fearful thought that God would remember in detail every sin committed against his majesty. Every blow that strikes another; every looting that destroys; every angry word yelled at another in vengeance. Every detail – minute detail – of every action and move, every facial quiver, how much saliva flew out of the mouth when screaming, all measured by God. To think that God would not forget such details we wouldn’t even consider is a fearful thought. Here we are again back to the virtue of forgiveness. It seems to come up at those necessary times throughout the Church year. At times, I get the sense we may treat forgiveness like Superman treats kryptonite; avoid it at all cost because if I draw near to it, it will kill me. When in truth, it does the opposite. It will save us. Just like it saved all those horrible, horrible men standing near the bottom of Jesus’ Cross, asking his Father in heaven to forgive these violent actors because they don’t know what they do. Some of the last words Christ would speak in his brief life. A life, by the way, not taken from him, but given over freely. The power of his life and death belonged to him alone, and not those horrible people standing down below him on that first Good Friday. Here we are, with readings that center on the most difficult virtue to put into practice from that long list of Christian virtues. So the king had first forgiven the large debt of a lowly servant after the servant begged for mercy. In fact, the king went further than the beggar’s request. The servant only wanted more time to repay. “Give me a couple more months and I’ll give you back all I owe.” But the compassionate king, acting like the God we love, forgave everything. “Don’t worry about it, Judas,” the king said, “you’re all set. You’re free of all you owe me. Keep what you make, and your wife and kids I was going to sell, buy them something nice instead.” Don’t you think the wider world, and our personal world, would be a better place if we could forgive as easily as that? Where God would have no need of remembering all our sins in great detail? Where forgiveness was not on the top of the list of difficulty, but somewhere down in the middle of the long list of virtues? Instead, Judas walks off, encounters someone just like himself in social standing, doesn’t keep his social distance because he starts to choke the guy – for it’s hard to choke someone from 6 feet away – probably spit in the guy’s face too like the Sanhedrin did to Jesus. He does his best impression of Robert DeNiro in a drunken rage. How can anyone be so quickly forgetful and so short-sighted about the mercy they were just shown by someone else who had the power to crush out their life? How can we lose sight of the mercy freely given to any of us so quickly? That amazes me more than any other detail in this lengthy parable. That the mercy shown to the first servant, the forgiveness that was just won through begging, could not be carried forth to the next human encounter. That’s what the Lord wants us to do with it. He doesn’t want us to lose the mercy we receive from him. But to forward it to our next encounter. Where we become God in the best sense. Where the Divine within us is spread like a heavenly virus. We understand why forgiveness is on the top of the difficult list. While many offenses against our person are actually tiny in nature, where we make them out to be large, once in a while there’s a large offense that makes forgiveness, mercy, and compassion genuinely hard to practice. But, the model here is the Cross, the largest offense in all human history, with Christ hanging on it, as we hang onto his words. When the Lord spoke those words of forgiveness from the Cross on that darkest of afternoons, it was in that moment that his humanity knew full and everlasting peace. He did it for them, those horrible people who wanted him up there, like the king in the parable forgiving the servant. But he also forgave for himself. Christ filled his human nature with goodness in that moment. And that’s what the virtue that is most difficult to practice does for us. It fills us with God’s peace. A very good reason to practice forgiveness, at least from our hearts.