Blessed are you who are poor and Woe to you who are rich.
 
A few nights ago I had a nightmare.  I was standing at the pearly gates arguing with St. Peter.  “What do you mean, there are no hot showers in heaven?” says I.  And St. Peter responds, “Well, we want to be good stewards of God’s creation and even with solar/star power, it is still too expensive to heat water for the billions of saints up here.”  That simply doesn’t computer with me, so I say, “This is paradise, and not to have hot showers is simply unacceptable.”  So, St. Peter with a bit of snark says, “Ragan, you can go to hell.  There is plenty of hot water there.”
 
Blessed are you who are poor and Woe to you who are rich.
 
I haven’t shared very much about my trip to the Philippines.  Culturally it was a wonderful experience.  The city of Cebu is a big metro area.  It is very densely populated and very poor.  But the Filipino people are joyful and welcoming.  The Santo Nino celebration was probably the best liturgical experience that I’ll ever have this side of heaven.  But I’ve not shared very much because I am still trying to pray through the negative experiences of the Assembly itself, which are much deeper than the fact that there were no hot showers.  Most of the people in the world have never experienced the luxury of a hot shower.
 
No, my hurts ran much deeper than a lack of one creature comfort.  As an American, I felt judged by my brother priests, especially those from South America.  In one of the presentations the term neo-liberal was used.  I didn’t know what it meant, so I asked.  The priests from South America all snickered.  Apparently, it is a nice academic way of saying that we in North America are all filthy Capitalist who are raping the South Americans of their natural resources.
 
In that moment I’ve never felt more Republican.  I mean, the priests of the U.S. supply over 40% of the International budget.  Those knuckleheads were happy for us to pay for their air fare and their room and board without a word of thanks.  And if the political/economic structures of South America are so great, then why does everyone want to come to our country?
 
Blessed are you who are poor and Woe to you who are rich.
 
I experienced so much good in the Philippines; so much that was of God.  The negative emotions that I brought back, for the most part, are not of God, except for the fact that they helped me wrestle with this Gospel.
 
For citizens of one of the wealthiest countries in the world this Gospel is brutal.  We may take our material blessings for granted but when we realize what we count on for security, it is pretty stark to hear, “You have received your consolation.”
 
I like many of us have an irrational sense of financial insecurity.  Have I saved enough for retirement or a medical emergency?  But I know, compared to over 90% of the world, I am a rich man and I have more than enough.  My pursuit of a nice home and a bigger nest egg keeps me from focusing on what is of ultimate value: the spiritual resources of life.  Possessing these resources is what really matters in the end.
 
Ultimately, the Gospel asks me and all of us, will we be happy with the world riches or will we hold out for a greater treasure, namely, Jesus Christ?  Woe to you who are rich.  The woes in today’s gospel are meant to get our attention.  Luke wants us to know that our affluence and our independence can be the things that keep us from placing our trust in God.
 
Blessed are you who are poor.  We may not be materially poor but all of us are poor in one way or another.  That can be a difficult thing to admit, so let me try to get at it by sharing a bit of my own person poverty.  I preface this by saying, I love being a priest and I am blest to be a priest in this amazing parish.  The kindness and compassion you show me is wonderful.  And yet my poverty is that I’ve always wanted a family to love.  The only way that I have been able to live the poverty of a celibate life is to trust God.
 
When I place my trust in God, miracles begin to happen.  As a priest, it is my great privilege to witness miracles of God’s grace each and every day.
Priests often hear these miracles in the confessional.  There is the poverty of a woman who has been burdened by the shame of an abortion for 20 years and finally, miraculously entrusts that sin to God’s loving forgiveness.  There is the poverty of a man who carries the guilt of an affair until he finally finds the courage to entrust his sin to the mercy of God.  God loves us even when we think we are unlovable.  Blest are the poor who trust that love.
 
As a priest I’ve been humbled by the trust I’ve witnessed in parents who have faced the most terrible cross of their child’s death.  I’ve been edified by parents who care for a profoundly handicapped child.  There is a poverty in taking care of a parent whose health is failing and a poverty in being that parent.  There is poverty in the addictions and mental illnesses that are encountered by most families.  There is a poverty in the way others label us and place us in neat little categories such as neo-liberalism – who knew.  There is a poverty in simply trying to be a person of faith in a very secular world.  And in the midst of our poverty, Jesus asks us to choose a life that trusts in the Father’s love.
 
Blessed are you who are poor.  Jesus calls us to turn to him.  Bring your emptiness and have it filled.  Bring your hunger and be nourished.  Bring your sorrow and have it turned to joy.  Bring your rejection and have it turned to victory.  Jesus will touch the hurting places in your life and give you a beatitude – a promise of happiness.
 
Woe to who you are rich.  Realizing that we have been so greatly blessed by God with material wealth, will we be good stewards and share those blessings with all of God’s children, especially those who are poor in material goods, and perhaps even with those poor judgmental priests from south of the border.  Dear Lord, grant me the grace of a generous and forgiving heart.  Amen!  Amen!