“There’s no point in praying.” “God never listens to my prayers.” “I give up!”

How often have I heard these statements in my life! Let’s face it, bad things happen, and very often to good people too. Often we wonder why are there injustices in the world. Often we ask “why?” … and remain without an answer. The temptation to give up can be real and huge.

In today’s second reading St Paul urges Timothy to hold on to what he had received in his childhood. He reminds him how the Scared Scriptures can be a real source of help in all times. The Word of God never tells us that, if you are a believer, you will never go through hard times. What it assures us of is that evil never has the last word. Undoubtedly, the central message of the bible is in the Easter-event of Jesus. It is the passion-death-and-resurrection story. Evil is very real there. The story makes it a point not to deny it or underestimate its destructive effects. Also, the presence of injustice cannot be denied. Perhaps the words of the “converted” thief crucified with Jesus sums it all up, when he addresses his colleague from the cross: “we indeed have been condemned justly, for we are getting what we deserve for our deeds, but this man has done nothing wrong.” Yet, we know that the story does not end on the cross. There is the resurrection, the empty tomb, the victory over all that is evil. It makes sense, therefore, that today the Church takes the opportunity to remind us to be persistent, to never give up. All three readings point in that direction. It is a persistence in the belief that justice will prevail.

The scriptures even give us a very effective tool which helps us not to give up: prayer. When we talk about prayer we are not merely referring to the formal prayers which we learn by heart. It is a way of living, an attitude which we develop in our life. Prayer is my relationship with God. Like any other loving relationship, it is not merely made up of formal petitions or beautiful talk. It is, rather, being there for and with the other. It is having the other constantly present in one’s mind and heart. Like any other relationship, it either grows or dies out as time goes by. It’s a dynamic relationship, and never stays the same. When Paul, in one of his letters to the Thessalonians, tells us to “pray without ceasing”, he is not telling us to be constantly on our knees, or in church, or reading our prayer books, 24 hours a day! He is, rather, urging us to enter into this loving relationship with our God, to never give up even when the “other” seems silent or aloof, or perhaps when our well seems to have run dry.

Moses did get tired of praying, in our first reading. Aaron and Hur came to his help, and eventually victory over the evil forces was achieved. Sometimes, we have to be humble enough to ask for help. This is the beauty of community, of knowing that I am not alone. Not unlike Moses, there are times in my life when I need the help of others in my prayer life. It would be stupid and selfdefeating of me to try to go it alone.

​Finally, let us listen to what Paul says to his friend Timothy when he urges him to proclaim the message, to share what he had himself received. On this Mission Sunday, let us, too be persistent in sharing with others the beauty of the gift which we have received, the gift of our faith.

“One of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, praising God with a loud voice.”

We are all very familiar with the story which St Luke tells us in today’s gospel. As often happens in gospel stories, there can be more than one meaning to the story. We can read it on many levels.

The most obvious is what the story tells us. Ten lepers are healed by Jesus, and only one of them comes back to thank him. Jesus expresses surprise that the others did not. More so given the fact that the only one who bothered to thank him was a Samaritan, a vowed enemy of the Jewish people of whom Jesus was a member. Already here we have an important message. It’s a teaching about gratitude. How beautiful, and important, it is to be thankful in life, not to take anything for granted. It is providential that we are reflecting on this story as we celebrate Thanksgiving Weekend. I am sure that each and every one of us has a lot to be thankful for in life. Sometimes we might tend to focus too much on the negative. Fact is that life has both ups and downs. It presents to us both good things and bad. Being thankful to all that is good helps us to be able to better face all that is not.

Delving deeper into the story, then, helps us to find a deeper meaning which Luke tries to convey. It starts with ten lepers, one of the perfect numbers in the bible. This can include each one of us. Leprosy was often considered as a punishment by God. The leper was cut off from everybody. He was cast out of the village, he could not touch or be touched by anyone. He was alone, just him and his illness. In a very real way, leprosy is a symbol of sin, which cuts us off from other people and severs relationships. That was what happened to Adam and Eve after that first human sin. All relationships were badly severed: relationships with God, with each other, and with nature. It’s worth noting that the lepers do not ask healing from Jesus, just “mercy”. Perhaps, having given up all hope of being healed, all they now desired was to be seen, to be given some importance, some dignity. Of course, Jesus did more than that. “Go show yourselves to the priests”, he tells them. That is what lepers were expected to do if they were healed from their illness, so that the priest could examine them and declare them healed, so that they can return to their community. These ten were not yet healed, but they believed. Or, at least, they hoped.

As they were going, the miracle happened. Nine of them kept going, as Jesus had told them. The Samaritan did not. Rather, he felt the urge to “turn back” and return to Jesus, the source of his healing. We can say that, in this case, the miracle was a cause for real conversion. That is what turning back implies. The healed leper did not continue on his way. The most important thing for him now is to return to the one who gave him back his life. This is what real faith is all about. It is not merely doing what one is expected to do by law. It is a desire to encounter Jesus, acknowledging that what is good come from him. This encounter with Jesus becomes more important than anything else. No wonder that, at the end, Jesus tells him that now he can go on his way: “your faith has made you well.”

​True healing in not just the healing of bodily illnesses. It is a constant return to Jesus, an acknowledgement that only he can give us the fullness of life that we all desire.

There must have been a moment in the lives of those following Jesus when they realized that their faith was lacking. They were, undoubtedly, good people. They definitely believed in God—the God of Abraham, of Isaac, of Moses. They had a whole tradition behind them. They had a set of rules which they strictly adhered to. They were aware that the commandments which guided or, rather, ruled their lives were God-given. As if this were not enough, they had even garnered 613 commandments through time which governed every little aspect of their lives. Obedience to the law was paramount to most of them.

And yet, journeying with Jesus and being close to him made them realize that there was something lacking in their spiritual life. So, they asked him the question, “Lord, increase our faith”!

Jesus, who knows what is in the heart of each one of us, understands what they are going through. He agrees with them to such an extent that he even exaggerates a bit to highlight that, in spite of everything, their way of living out their spiritual life does not include faith. “If you had faith the size of mustard seed,” he tells them, implying that they had almost no faith at all as the mustard seed is very, very small. Still, if they had such little faith they would have been able to move mountains and mulberry trees (whose root-system is very wide and strong!) Faith does not come from mere teaching, from catechism, from adhering to the law. All this helps, but it is not faith. Faith comes from living with Jesus, staying close to him, letting his way of living rub off on them.

Unfortunately, the way those people were living their religion was not life-giving, did not bring them joy. The motto underlying their lives was “we are worthless slaves, we have done only what we ought to have done!” How contrary this is to what Jesus came to bring to each and every one of us.

First of all, for Jesus, we are not slaves. We are children of God, daughters and sons. When, earlier on in Luke’s gospel, the famous prodigal son returned to his father asking to be accepted as a servant, the father would have nothing of it. He was a son, and all his misadventures did nothing to change this. Later on in the same story, when the older son complained that he had been slaving all his life, the father’s words were clear and direct: you are my son, and all I have is yours.

Also, definitely for Jesus, no one is worthless. He came specifically to give us back the dignity of being children of God.

Then, there is that sense of duty, doing only what we ought to do. A true follower of Jesus does nothing because he is forced, simply out of obedience or because it is his duty. This brings no joy. Everything a true follower of Christ does is done out of love, because that is what Jesus did. St Paul, the strict pharisee who eventually met Jesus on that fateful day on the road to Damascus, could reflect and compare his past and present life, the “old” and the “new” man, life under the law and life under the Spirit. Only the latter brought Paul life and happiness.

​The people listening to Jesus must have understood what Jesus was saying. If they really desired a growth in their faith, they had to make that qualitative leap into living the same life Jesus lived. A life moved by Love, by the Spirit, by God.

Do rich people go to heaven?

I heard someone ask this question once, apparently sparked by the importance the gospel seems to give to the poor. Before going any further, it’s important to remind ourselves from the beginning that nobody, absolutely nobody, is denied the possibility to go to heaven. Passport to heaven is not based on social status or one’s bank account. What matters is what we do with what we’ve got.

In a very well-known passage in chapter 25 of Matthew’s gospel, Jesus sets the criteria for taking our “inheritance, the kingdom prepared for us since the foundation of the world.” I was hungry, and you gave me to eat, he tells us. Thirsty and you gave me to drink, naked and you clothed me, and so on. Jesus’ words leave no room for doubt.

Today’s gospel passage presents us with two very different people. One of them is rich. We don’t know his name. All we know is that he organized banquets every day, and dressed himself in linen and purple—stuff of royalty! The other one is poor, named Lazarus. He had nothing to eat. Moreover, the rich man never thought of helping out the poor one. Jesus graphically tells us that, after their death, the poor man goes to heaven, consoled in Abraham’s arms, while the rich man found himself in the flames of Hades. Nothing is said about whether they were good or bad people, whether they obeyed all the laws, whether they went to the temple. The rich man is not necessarily evil. He just locks himself in his mansion, enjoying his luxurious lifestyle. The only criteria for the rich man’s condemnation was his indifference towards the plight of Lazarus.

Sometimes we might think that to hate someone is the worst evil we can do. I strongly believe that indifference is worse than hatred! When you hate someone, you are at least acknowledging that person’s existence, giving him some importance in your life. When you are indifferent to someone, on the other hand, it is as if that person did not even exist for you. You are depriving him not only of love and attention, but even from the very right to exist! Like the rich person in today’s parable, you would be closing yourself up in your own mansion, totally oblivious of the other person at your doorstep.

​Indeed, the problem is not money or riches. The real question is, “What do I do with what I have?” Do I lock myself up in my own little mansion? Or do I use what has been given to me to help others?

We are getting used to the pattern by now. Jesus is on his life-journey, one slowly leading him to Jerusalem. It is a journey that will lead him to that very important moment, the moment of his self-giving for the salvation everyone. As he goes along, people follow him on this journey. Of course, he has become a popular man. He performs miracles, heals sick people, and, perhaps most importantly, the way he speaks is different to the way their other religious leaders speak. “He speaks with authority”, people were saying, implying that the others were not. There was something in his words that made them credible and doable, in spite of the fact that, more often than not, they were difficult words. Surely, the people sensed honesty and integrity in what Jesus said. Speaking about the other leaders of their time, once Jesus told the people to “listen to what they say, but do not do what they do,” because they did not live what they preached. Definitely, Jesus was not like that. He lived what he preached even before he preached it.

So, as people follow him on this journey, Jesus takes the opportunity to explain to them what it means to be a disciple of his. Thus we can say that Jesus’ words are addressed to us also, not only to those who were walking with him two thousand years ago. We, too, have sensed something in Jesus which we would not find anywhere else. During these last few weeks Jesus has been helping us to put our priorities right, to make conscious choices in life, to go for that which is truly important, truly good, truly valuable.

Today is no exception. Although the parable of Jesus in today’s gospel might seem difficult or strange, there is a clear message in it. Again, Jesus is asking us to choose. This time my choice is going to be whom to serve in my life: God or worldly wealth. Mind you, it’s important to keep in mind before we go on that Jesus is not saying that worldly wealth, riches and money are bad. He is simply telling us not to let them become our “master” in life. All these things are good, often they are God-given gifts, but I cannot allow them to control my life.

If seen within this context of Jesus’ teachings, the parable of today starts making sense. First of all Jesus is careful to remind us that we are “administrators” not owners of all that we have. The one and only master and owner of all is God. He gives us what we have, so that we can make good use of it. In one of his letters Saint Paul reminds us, “what have you got that you did not receive?”

The administrator in our story of today did not act as a good administrator. We do not know what he did, but for some reason he was going to find himself without a job. And in that moment of crisis something clicked. Rather than money or riches, what he is going to need in life is friends. He sacrifices from what he has—probably from the commission he would have had from the business he was doing for his master—to start creating relationships. And Jesus praises this man for his shrewdness. Rather than being mastered by his money, he has now become the master. He is using the money he was making for something better: human relationships.

​As we continue on our journey as disciples of Jesus, it’s good to ask ourselves a couple of questions today. First of all, who or what is my master. On what criteria do I base my decisions in life? Then, how do I use what God has given me? Do I use it for the good of others, to help grow and strengthen relationships?