Nov. 8, 2009: 32nd Sunday Ordinary (B)

A couple of days ago I was saying a school mass for St. George. They were celebrating the All Saints Feast Day, and before the mass began the entire 3rd graders paraded in with their saints costumes which their moms made for them. As the litany of saints began with "St. Mary," a little girl dressed up as Virgin Mary walked in embracing a doll representing infant Jesus, and all of us responded, "Pray for us." You could tell that these were modern versions of the saints because some of the nun's habits and monk's habits were made from what looked like Under Armour spandex fabrics. At the offertory, a couple of kids brought books of remembrance that each grade prepared. I was reading out loud through one of them at the altar, and a 1st grader's artwork drew my attention. Each child was to put the name of their loved one on the page and draw a picture about them. This one child drew what appears to be a lady hanging clothes on a clothesline to hang dry. Then on the top of the page spelled, "ant be." I know Aunt Bee is proud of her nephew's attempt to memorialize her with crayons on a book of remembrance.

In the homily for that mass, I tried to tackle a common question that a child might ask his mom and dad. "Mom, how far is heaven from here?" It's a profound question isn't it? And they'll likely ask you this at funerals. How many moms and dads here have been asked that? Don't we tell our children that their maw-maw or paw-paw is now in heaven, and that they are right here with us? So logically Heaven seems so close but it's so far away at the same time because we can't see it. So how would you explain this to a 1st grader? How far is heaven from here?

I began the homily by telling them that nearby St. George is the Mall of Louisiana. I told them what I like about the Mall is what's on the second floor. The kids thought I was talking about the Merry-Go-Round, but I told them it was the Food Court. I also told them that sometimes I like to go to the Cortana Mall, north of Baton Rouge. So I made this analogy. People often think that when we die and go to Heaven, it's like going to a far away place where you cannot return back, like driving 30 minutes from the Mall of Louisiana to the Cortana Mall. But Heaven is more like the Mall of Louisiana, and the earth is more like the Food Court on the second floor of the Mall of Louisiana. We have to remember that the earth is only a tiny part of the entire Creation of God; think of how vast the Universe is in comparison to our little blue planet. Logically if someone is in Heaven, in which they are no longer hampered by time or space, then earth is less than a hop-scotch away. Just imagine sending a text message on our iPhone and having that actual person right before us instantaneously.

What does this mean for us? Let me give you an example of how saints help me in my 'job.' A month ago I got a call from a nursing home near Airline Highway and Highland Road at the height of Friday evening traffic. I knew it was going to take 30 plus minutes to get there. So when I started my car, I prayed the necessary prayers for the person who is about to die. Then I asked Blessed Francis Xavier Seelos, St. Jean Vianney, and Padre Pio all who are great priests to help welcome the person to meet the Lord. I believe firmly that time and space is no problem for these priests so they are able to get there instantaneously. Sure enough when I got there, I was told that the person passed away 20 minutes prior. I wasn't too worried because I know three priests have already been there 20 minutes ago. A parishioner told me this story about her father. His death was imminent and they were looking for a priest to come and give him the Last Rites. They could not find a priest. But her father kept saying that there was a priest in his room. "No daddy there is no one here." After he passed away, the family found a relic of Blessed Francis Xavier Seelos in his pocket. They were comforted in knowing that Fr. Seelos came to minister to their father.

There is an interesting scene in today's Gospel. Our Lord makes a comment about various persons coming to the temple to give their offerings. Notice that the Lord was able to know in advance how much wealth a person had but also knew what was in their hearts. It's a gift that both St. Jean Vianney and Padre Pio had, to be able to read souls when they approached the confessional. And notice what Jesus was interested in. As the Book of Samuel says, "Man looks at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart." (1 Sam 16:7) And the Psalm 51 says, "For you do not desire sacrifice; a burnt offering you would not accept. My sacrifice, O God, is a broken spirit; God, do not spurn a broken, humbled heart." (Psalm 51:18-19) It wasn't the quantity of material things that Jesus was looking for. He was looking for whether the person was giving their all from their heart, out of humility. When we realize that all of the material gifts belong to God anyway, what does He have need of money or goods from us? The person who acknowledges that the only worthy gift to God is their entire self, their heart, is bringing most valuable gift to the altar. But giving our heart to God is not as difficult as we might think.

Few days ago, Fr. Miles, Fr. Vic, and I heard confessions of our 3rd graders. A little girl with red hair and glasses sat in front of me a bit nervous; she was looking down part of the time as if to avoid eye contact. I told her, "For your penance, I want you to go home and give your mom a big hug. And if she asks you why you are hugging her, tell her, 'Because I love you.'" The little girl lit up, smiled, and jumped off her chair and walked out. As she opened the glass door she said to her friend who was coming in, "That was easy!"
Whether it's drawing with crayons how much we miss 'ant be' or giving a simple hug to mama, it's not how much we give but how much love we put in giving it.