May 5, 2024

If we were a first-century group of Christians—who called themselves “the Way”—and if we were gathering to “break bread” for our sacramental experience, imagine what our response would be if we saw Saul, the Pharisee, open the door and join us.  After all, we know this man because he’s been hunting us down and turning us over to our Roman oppressors.

In today’s gospel passage, John’s Jesus is quoted as saying his followers will be  persecuted just as he was persecuted.  He also says that they will not become the best version of themselves apart from him.  Scholars tell us that John reminded the early Christians of what Jesus said because they were being hounded by the Romans, and that they needed to know that their following of Jesus was not misguided.  He told them that this would happen—but if they stayed true to the message, they were living as they should.

Wouldn’t we be surprised when we hear visitor Saul speak of a powerful conversion experience he had when going to Damascus (still today a city in Syria).  He reported being knocked to the ground and hearing a voice ask “Why are you persecuting me?”  He was blinded but regained his sight after learning that the voice was that of Jesus.  He had new eyes, so to speak, with which he saw that he had been following the wrong path in life.  He now wanted to be a member of “the Way.”

As you know, Saul became the Paul of the New Testament who was largely responsible for spreading the message of Jesus throughout the Mediterranean—and ending in Rome (where he was beheaded).  He was also the one who spoke of “sin” as a behavior that “misses the mark” of good and virtuous living.  Sometimes we miss the mark of good behavior (as when shooting at bullseye) by just a little, and sometimes we are far from being a good marksman.  We can perform destructive behavior (mega-sin, often called “mortal”—as in “deadly”).

Thoughts like these brought to mind a theme I often mention.  Namely, we’re supposed to identify with each person we read about in scripture.  At different times, we are each of them.  For example, each of us is ALWAYS on the road to Damascus.  Each of us needs conversion—because we are not perfect and do not have all the answers.  We don’t know what decisions to make, how to relate to certain people, or how to conduct ourselves as we should.  Like Saul, we are often blind.  And it just might be that we need to be knocked down, so to speak, and made to confront where we need to change.

I’ve often expressed concern about young people who have no religious practice.  You who are parents and grandparents no doubt have loved ones who seldom, if ever, “go to church.”  You can address this with them by not berating them, but by simply and calmly stating your and my experience of practicing the faith.

Just tell them how we see the goal of having our religious practice.  Is it that we’ll please God by going to Mass (so God will like us and not send us to hell when we die)?  Or that God will like us if we receive communion?  Say the rosary?  Baptize our young? Or receive the other sacraments?  NO!!

Remember this: God doesn’t get any godlier because you or I go to Mass, or pray, or receive the sacraments, or hear homilies, or read scripture.  God has nothing to gain because God is fully complete.  HOWEVER, you and I can sure benefit from behaviors we lump into the category of “religion.”  And yes, you and I have relatives and friends who have no religious practice or who are even atheists—and we know them to be good people.  But here’s the point: just as you and I become better versions of ourselves through our religious practice, so too do our non-church-going relatives benefit and become more the person God intended them to be.

I was thinking about my lack of knowledge in many areas.  I seemed to be always walking toward Damascus—living my life okay but not accomplishing much.  I got by, but I felt my limitations.  For example, I had a nice garden in West Virginia—within which were many different vegetables (and box turtles who lived in the garden). A married couple came by one day and gave me a tomato plant to add to my 90 other tomato plants.

I said that I was happy to accept their offer.  Come harvest time, I saw this vine produce a purplish-black cherry tomato.  They looked like the food of aliens.  After all, who ever heard of purplish-black tomatoes?  Thinking they were infected with some weird tomato disease, I uprooted the plant and disposed of its bounty.

Now you see how I learned once again that I lacked knowledge.  As with so many areas of life, I did not have all the answers.  I THOUGHT I knew quite a bit about tomatoes.

The people who gave me the plant later stopped by and asked how I liked the tomatoes.  Turns out that these were special tomatoes that came from some special greenhouse and that their color was SUPPOSED TO BE purplish-black.  In short, my lack of knowledge prevented me from having a treat of special tomatoes.  I was not as smart as I thought I was.

I was like a person who didn’t need to go to church because they knew the score.  They knew how to flourish.  They had all the answers.  My point here is that I and my black tomatoes were just like the person who didn’t have a religious practice.

I recalled arguments we had during the Vietnam War.  People would lose the debate when presented with cold, hard facts about why the U.S. should end the war.  Unable to defend their position, people would still patriotically assert: “My country, right or wrong.”  My “conversion” experience on this topic came when I realized that the gospel calls us to base our decisions on what is right—and not on what is patriotic.  How could so many Germans (Catholics, Lutherans, and other Christian groups) pledge allegiance to Hitler—and not the gospel of Jesus?  Millions of lives lost because people voted for “my country, Germany, right or wrong.”

Most of our youth no longer attend church and hear about ANYTHING related to the gospel or the values it teaches.  Today’s gospel speaks of us being like the branches of a vine—with the Vine being Jesus.  Connected to him, we’ll bear much “fruit” in our life (the “best version of ourselves”).

But what are our young people attached to, drawing life from, inspired by, motivated, or influenced by?  The everyday life of our secular society does not teach Gospel values but instead makes minds focus on “Numero Uno” (“number one”)—me, myself, I.  A “what’s in it for me” approach to all things.

I’m reminded of a recently published book that reports a study of cell phone usage since its popularity around 2012.  A group of researchers were trying to understand why test scores of elementary and middle school kids dropped nationally and did not recover.  Long story short of the study was that “smartphones” were “dumbing down” young people.  These hypnotic instruments misinformed or minimally informed or distracted young people to such an extent that their intellectual/emotional growth was being stunted.

I can’t recall each of the recommendations, but here are a couple of points the study made.  1) Do NOT give a smartphone to children under age 12.  Give them so-called “throw-away” phones to call home if needed, but do not allow them access to this addictive technology.  2) If you get your teen a “smart” (i.e., dumb) phone, don’t allow them unlimited access to it 24 hours a day.  And don’t allow adding “apps” of all kinds on it.

Does any family in the parish still say the prayer that was very common to Catholic households for many years?  It was this prayer: “Bless us, O Lord, and these thy gifts which we are about to receive from thy bounty, through Christ our Lord, Amen.”  Do any of our families say any prayer before a family meal?

With parish communities having so few young people, it seems more parishes will close as time passes.  That’s why a “new evangelization” is needed, or is a ministry we now must adopt.  All of us are being called to evangelize our families and friends—inviting them to be part of our community of good people.

If you have no plan of action to evangelize anyone, let the quote below identify people from John the 23rd Parish:

“Kindness is the language which the deaf can hear, and the blind can see.”