Below is the text of my first ever "homily." I've been surprised, but many of my Lutheran family and friends aren't familiar with the term "homily." So I will explain. A homily is like a "sermon," but it focuses more explicitly on the Scripture readings from the day and is given during liturgical worship, such as during a Mass. A sermon is different in that it can be unrelated to the Scripture of the day and can be delivered outside of worship. This homily below was written for my course on Pauline Literature. It won't actually be preached (I'm not yet a deacon!), so maybe it's not even a real homily. In any case, I'm not particularly proud of it because it was hastily written. It isn't my best writing, for sure. But it is my first attempt at writing a homily based on Sunday readings, so I thought it might be noteworthy.

While writing this I realized ... writing a homily is difficult! If your parish has a good preacher who can bring the Scripture alive and connect it to your life, be grateful to God! It's not easy.

The readings today speak about the origins of authority, wherever it is manifested, and our obligation as Christians to obey that authority.

The Pharisees and the Herodians, religious and political parties respectively, teamed up to entrap Jesus. The Pharisees were opposed to taxation by the Romans. On the other hand the Herodians, as supporters of King Herod, felt there was an obligation to pay the tax. And so the Pharisees, in the presence of the Herodians, asked Jesus, “is it lawful to pay the census tax to Caesar or not?” If Jesus had answered “yes, it is lawful,” the Pharisees would have had justification to persecute him. If he answered “no, it is not lawful,” the Herodians would have arrested him for opposing the tax. But Jesus, as he so often did, provided the perfect answer, saving himself from punishment by either party while teaching us something at the same time. He answered, “repay to Caesar what belongs to Caesar and to God what belongs to God.” In saying this, Jesus acknowledged that both Caesar and God have certain rights. Neither party could arrest him.

Today this story teaches us three useful lessons. First, that legitimate government has authority and deserves our cooperation. Secondly, and this should be obvious to people sitting in church pews, that God also has authority and deserves our cooperation. And thirdly, the authority of legitimate governments is itself from God. Consider the first reading. Cyrus was a pagan ruler who defeated Babylon, thus freeing Israel from captivity and doing God’s work. As the Lord explained, through the Prophet Isaiah, Cyrus’ authority and power were granted by God for the good of God’s people: “I have called you by your name, though you knew me not. … It is I who armed you, though you knew me not.” Thus, Cyrus’ authority and power were truly from God, and the same is true of all leaders.

And so, how do we pay to God what is due to God? In addition to being faithful Catholics, today’s readings exhort us to subject ourselves to legitimate authority and work within the laws of our society to sanctify that society. When the bishops at Vatican II wrote to offer advice to the faithful on contemporary issues, they addressed this explicitly. The role of the laity is nothing less than the sanctification of the secular world by the spreading of the good news of Jesus Christ where the clergy cannot: in your homes, at your jobs, and, perhaps most importantly in this political season, on your ballot. As the bishops explained, “It is [your] task to cultivate a properly informed conscience and to impress the divine law on the affairs of the earthly city” and that “Every citizen ought to be mindful of his right and duty to promote the common good by using his vote” (GS 43, 75). It is critical that you inform you conscience, weigh the relative importance of issues, and consider the candidate who is most prepared to exercise his God-given authority for the sanctification of our world and the common good of all human life, from conception to natural death.

When we try to look at the world through the eyes of Christ or of his immaculate Mother, we see a broken world quite at odds with the Gospel. Thus, your task of sanctifying the world from within seems impossible. And it is humanly impossible. But as Saint Paul reminded us in his letter to the Thessalonians today, “our gospel did not come to you in word alone, but also in power and in the Holy Spirit and with much conviction.” Realize, then, that the Holy Spirit is with you as you work for the spread of the Gospel. Know that the Church is here to provide moral guidance. And most importantly, know that reception of the Sacraments, particularly the Eucharist, of which we will soon partake, will provide the grace you need to fulfill the task you have been given.

The image above is "The Tribute Money" by Masacio. For information on the painting, visit the Wikipedia article. The image is public domain.

Yesterday morning at breakfast, I was walking over to the toaster in a half-awake stupor when I overheard one of the priests talking about the KATY trail, which I just traversed in May as part of my Lewis & Clark ride (travel log still forthcoming). I thought that was strange, so I looked over to see Monsignor talking to a scruffy, bearded guy wearing jeans and tennis shoes. He's got to be a visitor, I think to myself.

Soon I was introduced to him. It turns out that he and three of his buddies are biking across the country, from Virginia to California, where they are from. Using every connection they have to get free room and board, they got rooms here at Kenrick Seminary for their stay while in Saint Louis. Apparently, one of them is a relative of a priest that lives here. They took yesterday as a "rest day" and enjoyed Kenrick's hospitality as well as the sights of Saint Louis.

Visiting with these guys triggered a severe case of cabin fever. The fever peaked this afternoon as they were tinkering with their gear, getting ready to ride off toward the KATY trail and toward Kansas City. They did this at 1:00 p.m., just as I was settling into my chair for a 75-minute lecture on Saint Augustine's notion of original sin. And their "staging area" just happened to be directly outside the classroom window. I could hear the velcro of their gear, the clicking of their freewheels, and the general noise that usually accompanies pre-ride prep.

And there I was. Stuck. Under fluorescent lights, dreading the usual post-lunch crash in which I strain to maintain consciousness during the afternoon lecture.

Oh, how awesome it would be to get out there and ride. The uncertainty of lodging for the night, the challenge of finding your next meal, the difficulty of not getting lost (and of finding your way once you are lost), and a few mechanical failures all add to the "adventure factor" of a such a trip. The simplicity and immediacy of the experience of pushing yourself slowly across the vast landscape is always invigorating. Trips like this reveal that people are not all serial killers. In fact, they're generally quite nice. And trips like this make one really appreciate the essentials, like food and shelter.

Biking out there makes me feel so alive. Sitting in here makes me feel comatose.

Oh, why not ditch it all and just go ride!? Oh, right. Life needs to be lived for a purpose to be satisfying. And it seems like God has a purpose for me. So here I sit, yawning, and trying to learn as much as I can.

But I am so jealous, and anxious for December.

The picture above was "borrowed" from the web site of these four bikers, http://cycling4acause.org. They are cycling for a cause - to raise money that will help prevent drownings in Nicaragua. It's a unique cause. Read more about their trip and their cause on the web site. The blog is updated frequently.

-Jason