transcript

Speaker 1:
[00:02] Welcome to Sunday Homilies with me, Fr. Mike Schmitz. I hope today's homily inspires and motivates you, and I also hope that it leaves you hungry for the one who gave everything to feed you. If you want to get this and other Sunday Mass resources sent straight to your inbox, sign up at ascensionpress.com/sunday, or by texting Sunday to 33777. You can also follow or subscribe in your podcast app for weekly notifications. God bless. So we have Jesus. Jesus carrying his cross. Jesus carrying the cross. But we say it's his cross, right? The question is this, whose was it? Whose cross was it? And I think it's funny, when there's something we like, when there's something we want, we are, just as human beings, we're quick to claim it. Like we say, that's all God's mind, like that's my spot in line, that's my place in line, or like that's my parking stall, that's my parking spot. But when it's something we don't want, right? When it's something we don't like, when we don't want this, what do we do? I think a lot of times, there was a comic strip back in the day that my mom really liked. She liked it for a number of reasons, about a family. And in the family, the mom would always say, well, my mom would say, which is there's these three characters, the three people in our family, and the characters, the people in our family are, I don't know, nobody, and not me. Because whenever my mom would ask a question in the comic strip as well, they'd say, who did this? I don't know. Or what did you do like that? I don't know. Who did that? Nobody. Who's fault is this? Not me. That was always the thing, right? That sense of, it's not me. That's so many, so often, so often in our lives, that can become our refrain. That's not me. It's not me. It's not my fault. And that can be something that we just look at life and look at problems. It's not my fault. You know, all this Lent, we've been in this series called Autobiography. We've been following the, not only the path of Jesus leading up to this moment right now, but also been following the story of the prodigal son. And we've called this series Autobiography because we know this truth, right? This truth that every life is a story. And because every life is a story, every person is an author. And the question, the big question of one's life is, who will you be at the end of your story? This is your autobiography. The question is, who will you be at the end of your story? And so we have, right, the parable of the prodigal son. You know, these two brothers, right? The younger son who races off, doesn't want to have anything to do with his father. The younger son who stays and he's resentful. The older son who stays and is resentful of his father. And both of them, we realize, are rescued. The younger son is rescued from rebellion. The older son is restored after resentment. But we know that the goal of the story is not just to be a rescued son or a restored daughter. The goal of the story is to become like the father. Maybe we even say this, the goal of the Christian life. The goal of the Christian life is to become like Jesus. The goal of the Christian life, the whole purpose of the story, is to have the heart of the father. To grow into a heart like his. We'll get our story right now and say, okay, what do I need to do to grow into a heart like his? How do I need to grow up? And that's this, this, how do I need to grow up? Where I can't grow up, I don't just want to say the younger son who rebelled and was rescued, I don't want to say the older son who resented and was restored. All of us, we're called to be the father. How am I called to grow up? Another way to ask is, is like, how do I know? How do you know? I mean, this is actually a bigger question. How do you know when you've grown up? How do you know when you're an adult? We talk to our students about this all the time. That sense of like, because there are no markers, right? There's no clear indicators. And other cultures, right? They have a rites of passage where it's like, okay, now you're an adult. And you look around our culture and say, well, what could that be? Like your driver's license? And the answer is no, a 16 year old. We would not consider a 16 year old to be an adult. Or maybe you've graduated high school or college and we'd, maybe, but not necessarily considered an adult. Maybe it's now you're 18, you can buy lottery tickets or go to the casino. No, 21. Not really. Like maybe it's when you have your first big kid job is, but then you hear someone say big kid job and you realize you're not an adult. You just use the phrase big kid job. So what is the marker of an adult? And I've been looking at this because I think about this how, for years I've been thinking about how often I look at, say the young men on our campus and they're from 18 years old to 24 years old. And looking at them, I think of what would it be like in the 1940s when men their age, 17 years old, upwards, were willing to sign up and either be headed to Europe or headed to the Pacific and just would fight because, here, middle-aged man from America, I'm very much interested in World War II. What is, what's the difference? I would say this, if there's any marker for adulthood in our culture, it's a marker that crosses every culture. And this is how I would say this. The marker of adulthood is the willingness to take responsibility. So you can do that. You could do that as a 16-year-old. You could do that as a 17 or 18-year-old signing up to go fight the Axis powers. You could do that as a 21-year-old saying, It's my job now. I gotta take care of myself. I would say this once again. The marker of adulthood is willingness to take responsibility. First, the way of responsibility is we take responsibility for oneself, right? That sense of personal responsibility where a couple of things. You don't fall into that trap or don't stay in that trap of blaming other people. So often that's one of our temptations, right? The temptation is that my problems or my struggles or my wounds, they're all someone else's fault. And first marker of adulthood is, no, I'm taking responsibility. I'm not just going to blame people for my struggles. I'm just going to blame people for my wounds. I'm not just going to blame people for my troubles. That's the first thing. Take responsibility. Also, how about this? Marker of adulthood, taking responsibility. I'm going to treat myself as someone who's worth taking care of. Think about this. Years ago, when a psychiatrist came to visit the priests and deacons of our diocese, and at one point in his first presentation, he said—he talked about this—talked about being an adult, and he said, one of the things that we find so difficult to do as adults when we're on our own is what someone else told us to do when we were growing up as kids. The two things. Two things we find most difficult to do as adults on our own is what someone told us to do when we were kids. And those two things are how to feed yourself and put yourself to bed. Not just that. How to feed yourself well and put yourself to bed on time. You know, he said that all the priests and deacons are like, well, okay, that's us. But then I talked to married men too, right? So how many married guys—and maybe you're watching this, if you're listening to this, a married man—and I've talked to so many married men, whether they've been married for two years, married for 30 years, and their wife is leaving. And it's like, okay. And they even will do this. Sometimes the wives are great and they'll say, listen, I've cooked all of the meals you need for the next weekend, or for the whole week. It's in the fridge. Nutritious. Good food. And then at the end of the week, the guys will be like, yeah, I had McDonald's and I had pizza and I slept on the couch the entire week. Because why? Because one of the things we find is difficult. A marker of adulthood is actually treating yourself as someone who's worth taking care of. Basically taking care of yourself. Another way to say it is, marker of adulthood. Taking responsibility, realizing that you're writing your story. You're writing your autobiography with God. Not as a passive observer, but as an active participant. Again, this is, that's what it is. That's the first step of adulthood. But so many of us, we face this temptation, right? Many men face this temptation, particularly. The temptation that helps, that makes us resist becoming like the Father. The temptation that makes us reluctant to grow up so we can say, Peter Pan. And what is that? That temptation is the temptation towards passivity. That if someone else is going to do it, great. If someone else is taking care of it, awesome. We can look at life and say, that's not my fault. We look at our circumstances and say, no, but no, it's not my fault. We can look at our wounds and say, I didn't do this to myself. Look at the battles we're facing. And we get our obstacle. The thing that we object to is say, it's not my fault. And yet, what does a father do? What does an adult do in not only an adult, but the father in the Gospel? When he looks at his son, the son who is resentful or the son who is rebellious, and the father declares this, it's not my fault, but it is my responsibility. And this is the first step. The first step in becoming like the father, first step in becoming an adult, is this, is rejecting passivity and embracing responsibility. Basically saying like the father, okay, this might not be my fault, but it is my responsibility. My wounds might not be my fault, my battles, my circumstances, they might not be my fault, but they are my responsibility. The way I'm at in my story right now might not be my fault, but it is my responsibility. That's the first step. But there's more. There's further steps. Remember, because the goal is to become like the father, not just to become a slightly more grown adult, but to become like the father. Because the father, of course, has responsibility for himself, but there's more. He takes responsibility for others. Not just any others, he takes responsibility for those entrusted to him, those closest to him. And this is every one of us. If we want to be like the father, it means we don't just take responsibility for ourselves. It means we take responsibility for those who are entrusted to us, take responsibility for those who are closest to us. I think there's one of the issues in our culture right now is we're so over-connected that we spend so much emotional energy pretending to be shocked or crushed by the experiences of people that we'll never meet. And we miss the people that God has put directly in our paths. When I was in college, I had a college chaplain, Father Kevin, and Father Kevin once said this. I thought it was brilliant. He said, The person who is nice to you but not nice to the waiter is not a nice person. And he was just highlighting the fact that sometimes you're just nice to your friends, but you're not nice to people that you might see as lesser than or outside your circle. And I remember thinking that. That's really wise. That's powerful. The person who is nice to you but not nice to the waiter is not a nice person. That's true. But I came across another teaching that I think balances this out. This man was reflecting on this and he highlighted the fact that sometimes it's easier to be kind to strangers. It's easier to take responsibility. He said this. He said, You can be kind to animals, kind to the paperboy, kind to every stranger who crosses your path, but kindness to strangers is not the measure of our character. He goes on to say, he says, Kindness at home is the real test. Because strangers don't carry our history, strangers don't activate our wounds, strangers don't mirror back the parts of us that we've avoided for years, but our spouse does, our children do, and our home does. And this is the uncomfortable thing, he says, the uncomfortable truth that most people dodge. If all of your graciousness is saved for strangers, that's not kindness. That's image management. The real measure of who we are isn't the polite smile you give to the grocery clerk, it's the tone you use with the spouse who loves you. It's the patience we offer when our children are overwhelmed. It's the softness we choose on the days our egos want to snap. And then he concludes it, he says this, he says, kindness to strangers might make people like you. Kindness to your spouse makes you trustworthy. Kindness to strangers creates an image. Kindness at home creates a person of character. And if we're kind everywhere except our own houses, that's not kindness, that's performance. That's image management dressed up as virtue. The reality, of course, is that we are called to love those closest to us because the ones who are closest to us are almost always the hardest to love. But that's almost always where true love is found. Because when—no, here's the temptation here. The temptation here when it comes to loving those closest to us is to make it all about us. Take responsibility for them. The temptation is, I have to be the one to fix them. And that's not responsibility, that's control. That big temptation of like, OK, if I think I need to take responsibility, what I'm going to do is I'm going to take control of their lives. I'm going to fix them. I'm going to do all the tweaks. If I can just shape them, if I can just control this situation, then they won't be driving off the cliff and I'll be doing what I need to do. But we have to do this. We have to resist—when that's our temptation, we have to resist control and embrace trust. Look at the father in the parable. The father in the parable does not control the exterior lives or the interior lives of his children. In the Gospel today, where we see Jesus, the Lord of everything, he doesn't control the people around him. He doesn't control Judas. He takes responsibility, but he doesn't try to control. Of course, the parable—in the parable, the father does move when it's time. The son comes back, he races out to him, and the other son doesn't come in, he goes out to him. He does move when it's time. But he doesn't try to control. Here's the invitation. To be like the father, we have to reject passivity and embrace responsibility. We also have to reject control and embrace trust because the question still stands. The question of Palm Sunday still exists. And the question is, whose fault is it? Today, whose fault is it? Look at the cross. Whose fault is it? I think it's fascinating that God the Father doesn't bother with that question. Because he doesn't say it's not no one's. The answer to the question, whose cross is Jesus carrying? If I'm going to be honest, the answer is mine. The answer to the question, whose fault is it? The answer to that question is, it's mine. If you've ever seen the movie, The Passion of the Christ, you know not only is it powerful and it's hard to watch, directed by Mel Gibson, written and directed by Mel Gibson, this actor, Mel Gibson, who is the director in this movie, but he's not in the movie. He's actually in the movie in one scene. It's just his hands. And it's the scene where Jesus is being nailed to the cross. The hands that are doing the nailing, the hands of the Roman guard, are Mel Gibson's hands. Because what he is saying in that implicitly and explicitly is, this is my fault. Whose cross is it? It's mine. Whose fault is it? It's mine. I think about the Lord, here, what Jesus is doing on the cross. Here's the sin of the world. God could easily, look at the sin of the world, God could easily look at this world and say, wait, I made this world all good. Like, to his kids, like, I gave you everything you possibly could want, everything you possibly could need, and what did you do? You ran away from me. So God could quickly, God could easily, God would be right if he said, it's not my fault. But what did God do? He looked at your need, and he looked at my need. And he said, okay, that's my responsibility. So that's the heart of the Father, and that's the heart that every one of us needs to develop. And this is the last thing. We know this, that our story must not end merely with us being a restored son or a rescued daughter. But we need to be what St. Paul wrote to the Galatians. Paul, to the Galatians, chapter 6, he said, bear one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ. Bear one another's burdens. Basically, who you and I become at the end of the story is critical. We have to become like the Father. A heart that sees the wounds of others, a heart that sees the brokenness of others, a heart that sees the needs of others, and responds like the Father, and responds like Jesus, not with passivity, not with control, but the heart that can say, maybe this is not my fault, but this is my responsibility. And imagine, to end your story like that, that would be a great autobiography.