31st SUNDAY (C) 31 October 2010

The story of Zacchaeus has always been a favourite gospel passage for children. They seem to identify easily with him. Perhaps it is because he likes climbing trees, or perhaps it is because he is curious and wants to know what is going on. Perhaps it is because he is short and sometimes misses out on many of the things that others see easily. Of course, Zacchaeus is far from being a child. He is an adult man, who has a fairly powerful job as a senior tax collector. Yet Luke seems to want us to see his response as like that of a child. It reminds us of a saying of Jesus elsewhere, that our faith should be like that of a little child. Of course, Jesus is not telling us to have a childish faith, but rather a faith that is child-like. A child-like faith is one that remains fascinated by Jesus and ready to listen to him and follow his sayings.

As we listen to the conversation between Jesus and Zacchaeus we get a sense of what this child-like faith looks like. The conversation – at least in terms of the encounter between the two of them – actually seems to begin before they meet. Zacchaeus had already heard about Jesus and was becoming curious about him. I wonder what he had heard. Perhaps he had heard about his miracles, or the impact his preaching was having on the crowds. Maybe when he was out collecting the taxes, Zacchaeus had met someone who had already heard Jesus preach and was clearly affected by meeting him. Perhaps this person told Zacchaeus that when he met Jesus things were different and that he felt a sense of peace that he had not known for years. However it happened, Zacchaeus’s interest in Jesus had already been aroused – so much so that when he heard that Jesus was moving through the village he ran ahead so that he could get a glimpse of Jesus. At this stage it was probably more a matter of curiosity than anything else. He climbed a tree; from there he could see what was going on, and hope that the townspeople might not notice him.

But Jesus sees him and calls out to him. I imagine that Zacchaeus had not been expecting this. Jesus had initiated a conversation with him, and invites himself to Zacchaeus’s house. We shouldn’t underestimate the significance of this self-invitation. To go to someone’s house was a sign of reconciliation and friendship. By this simple invitation Jesus was really saying to Zacchaeus that his sins were forgiven. Jesus was opening up for him the possibility of changing and of living differently. Zacchaeus clearly understood the significance of what Jesus had said because he immediately speaks to Jesus of how he is going to change his life. He says that not only will he pay back what he has stolen from people, but he will give back to them fourfold. His generosity exceeded the bounds of expectation. Then comes Jesus’ final statement that today salvation has come to this house.

The conversation between Jesus and Zacchaeus was about salvation. In fact, we can call it a “dialogue of salvation”. By this we mean that the conversation with Jesus actually leads to the offer of salvation and its acceptance. The crowds recognised what was going on because they complained about Jesus’ attitude to this tax collector, who they knew was a sinner. The problem they had was that they didn’t believe that Jesus could make that sort of difference is someone’s life. They didn’t believe a dialogue of salvation was possible. Zacchaeus did believe it was possible.

As we listen to this story of Zacchaeus today we are being invited to participate in this dialogue of salvation. What does this mean for us? In the first place it means that we should cultivate the child-like faith of Zacchaeus. In other words, we should allow ourselves to be fascinated by Jesus and his message. Of course, it is a message that we have heard many times before, and we can think that we know it. But if that is our attitude we are merely treating the message as mere information. He second point for us is that the idea of a dialogue means that there is a constant exchange, and that in that exchange we come to know this person Jesus more deeply. The message is only properly received when we know the person. Zacchaeus was fascinated by the person of Jesus, and this made him ready to listen when Jesus spoke to him. In a similar way, if we cultivate that sense of fascination and inquiry, then we can be sure that Jesus will approach us with a similar message, “I want to come to your house today”. Christian faith is always like this; it begins with Jesus calling us and inviting himself into our lives. Our next move is to respond to his invitation.

This leads to the third dimension of the dialogue of salvation. Our response cannot simply be at the level of a feeling or an idea. It must eventually become concrete. The message of Jesus – and the call to conversion – challenges us to think about how we live with other people, how we live in the world, and how we are concerned for the poorest and the weakest. That step is a hard one to take, because it takes us out of our comfort zone. But let’s not forget that it was hard for Zacchaeus, but when he took it he welcomed salvation to his house.

Fr. Gerard Kelly

30th Sunday (C) 24 Oct 2010

Public worship, not private devotional prayer, is argued by scholars as the setting of Jesus’ parable in our Sunday liturgy. The liturgical text from the New American Bible states that the two men “went up the temple to pray,” but the more literal rendition of the Revised Standard Version states that the two went “to worship.” In its more original form, our Sunday Gospel leads us to meditate on what is pleasing worship to God. Jesus says: “…indeed the Father seeks such people to worship him. God is Spirit, and those who worship him must worship in Spirit and in truth” (cf Jn 4:23-24).

First, pleasing worship should make us one! The Pharisee and the tax collector are not meant to represent their whole class. They are meant to represent two “types” of extreme dispositions that persons can have when they come to join the community for corporate worship and fellowship. The Pharisee is a personification of those who scrupulously observe the Law. He is sincere, not hypocritical as some imagine him to be. He stated the truth about himself: he was a man who went beyond the perfection that the Mosaic Law seeks. While the Mosaic Law obliges one day of Atonement—the Yom Kippur—this man did penitential fasting twice a week. While the Mosaic Law obliges tithing on agricultural produce, this man tithed on everything! The tax collector, on the other hand, personifies the hopeless arch-sinner. He earned his money through the shameful profession of serving the interests of the Roman exploiters. He beat his breast in great anguish and sorrow because conversion was practically impossible for him. Conversion would mean resigning from a livelihood with which he supported himself and his family. Also, conversion for him meant restoring to individuals all the money he got, plus an interest of one-fifth, the amount as stipulated by the Law. The Mishna taught that theft was only forgivable when full restitution had been made. In coming to the temple to join the atonement offering, the Pharisee and the tax collector committed the same sin, with different reasons. The Pharisee “took up his position and spoke… to himself.” (Other Bible version such as RSV)—“The Pharisee was standing apart by himself and praying.” The Pharisee then came with an attitude of being aloof from the congregation in worship. As Pharisee, he believed that he had to do this because accidental contact with the clothes of the “people of the land” (the ’am ha-aretz) would make him unclean. Besides, personally he had such a strong self-pride. The tax collector, on the other hand, also “stood off at a distance” from the congregation. This time, his aloofness from the worshiping community was due to his strong sense of unworthiness. Either way, the Pharisee and the tax collector were undermining the spirit of worship! Authentic worship should be of one heart and one mind. The words proclaimed in the First Reading from the book of Sirach ring strongly: “The Lord is a God of justice who knows no favorites!”

Second, pleasing worship should open us all to God—to God alone. Worship is not ours; it is not our “performance.” Sincere though he was—for he was really stating the truth about himself and his acts—the Pharisee fell to the trap of the traditional rabbis who taught that the coming of God and the awarding of God’s blessings depended on a person’s repentance and fulfillment of the Law. However, in its true sense, worship is God’s gracious moment! The word “worship” itself developed from “worth ship,” that is, giving God his worth. Worship is asking God to take his place, and to manifest his Godhead. Here was the saving grace of the tax collector. Hopeless and knowing that he was practically incapable of conversion and atonement according to the strict terms of the Law, the tax collector implored, “Hilastheti moi” (“Make an atonement for me!”). He asked God, and God justified him. The Pharisee asked nothing from God, so God gave him nothing. The Pharisee came to worship God, but he did not need God. He was satisfied with himself! At this point it is good to relate what the apostle Paul wrote Timothy from prison. He affirmed that God is a just Judge who awards the crown of righteousness not only to the faithful, but more importantly to those who wait and long for God. So, in worship let us wait on God, long for God, open to him alone.

Is there something we can take from this story? If we were to compare ourselves with the Pharisee on the other hand, and the tax collector on the other, most of us would probably fall somewhere in the middle. We are not quite as arrogant as the Pharisee, but neither are we honest and humble about ourselves as the tax collector. We would benefit from having something less of the Pharisee, and something more of the tax collector. In other words, we need to take a honest look at ourselves and our sins, acknowledge how little we have done with what God has given us, and pray often the prayer of the tax collector, “ O God, be merciful to me, a sinner.”

Fr. Lito

Homily - Oct

Cantonese translation of Sunday Homilies by Louis Kong

17-Oct-2010 Fr. G. Kelly



24-Oct-2010 Fr. Lito



31-Oct-2010 Fr. G. Kelly (translated by Simon Chan)

MARY MACKILLOP 17 October 2010

Today we have interrupted our normal celebration of the Sundays in Ordinary Time to celebrate the Mass for the Feast of Mary MacKillop on this day of her canonisation. Later this evening at a Mass in Rome she will be named Australia’s first saint. It is worth taking some time to ponder what this means for us and for the Church in Australia. For the first time we now have someone who has walked our land, been in our schools, and cared for the poorest and the most needy; someone who has been publicly recognised by the whole church for her holiness of life. We can look to her as a model of Christian life, and an inspiration for our own efforts to live a life of holiness in fidelity to the Gospel of God.

Over the last few weeks we have been receiving a lot of information about Mary’s life. This is important, and it is important that we remember her life. Memory is a central aspect of the Christian life. This goes right back to the command of Jesus to “do this in memory of me”. Each Sunday we listen to the Scripture readings and celebrate the Eucharist remembering what Jesus has done for us and for the world. Christian memory is not simply recalling what he did. In our worship he is present so that we can participate in the very events that we remember, and share in their saving effects.

Mary MacKillop participated in these same events, not only in her celebration of the Liturgy, but also in her daily life. She embodied the Gospel of God. As we listened to today’s gospel surely we all saw the link with Mary’s life. More than anything else, it was a life that flourished by trusting God. I am quite sure that as she began her adventure of founding a new religious congregation she was not thinking about what it might grow into or what might unfold in her own life, but rather she was thinking of those children who could not afford to go to school and would now have the opportunity. She didn’t have a business plan that told everyone that her scheme would work. Rather she set out trusting in God, and relying on the good will of those who could afford to help her. There were times when she was rebuffed and rejected, when people despised her for what she was doing, but this did not stop her. She trusted in God, and had confidence in her own capacity to bring off what she had undertaken. This was a self-confidence that was born of faith in God.

We shouldn’t think, though, that this was just foolishness on her part. She wasn’t the sort of person who would put God to the test, by sitting back and saying that she would leave it all to God and not make an effort to see that her plan was realised. For her, trusting God didn’t release her from the responsibility of working hard to make things happen, and of continuing on with her project whenever there was a setback. She survived because she had determination, courage, practical common sense, and a profound trust in God.

Mary MacKillop was a young woman when she began her remarkable journey as the founder of the Sisters of St Joseph – she was in her 20s. It was a time in her life when she was open-eyed enough to recognise a pressing need in the community for the education of the poor. It was a time in her life where she was young and adventurous enough to be fired with the vision of the kingdom of God in the preaching of Jesus. What she dreamed of was a new way of living the gospel. It was a time in her life when she had the energy to make her dream a reality. We know that she never lost that vision, and that energy. It matured with her, and in a sense became even more real as she grew older. She had a spirituality that relied on the power of the cross as her source of inspiration. She trusted that the cross would always lead to the new life of Easter. In her old age she maintained a concern for the sisters that were now part of her dream, now organised in a more formal way in the Congregation of the Sister of St Joseph. The formal approval of the constitution would ensure that the dream she had as a young woman would survive well beyond her.

So today we remember her life. This is a profoundly Christian thing to do, particularly in the context of this liturgical act of worship. We remember how she participated in the mystery of Jesus and the great drama of salvation. But today we should also look to the future. The celebration of a saint is not simply about looking to the past. It would be good for us to consider how we are drawn into her life. Let me suggest a few things. The first is that we can note the importance of being open to discovering new ways of living the gospel in our own time. What characterises ordinary life in a society like ours, and what is the gospel message that can renew and refresh that life? What is the bold vision that connects the kingdom of God with life in 21st century Australia? Trusting faith will allow us to see that vision; it will give us the courage to put it into action. Most of us won’t be called to do this in as dramatic a fashion as Mary MacKillop. But all of us, if we embrace the courage she showed and the determination to bring the gospel alive, can live a life of holiness in the very fabric of our lives. May Mary MacKillop pray for us.

Fr. Gerard Kelly