From Sinners to Saints: Embracing God’s Call to Holiness
Readings for Mass and Virtual Homily for February 9, 2025, Fifth Sunday of Ordinary Time; Birthday Season; Bright Grey Skies
Readings for Mass this Sunday
Isaiah 6:1-8
Psalm 138:1-8
1 Corinthians 15:1-11
Luke 5:1-11
Dear Friends and Family,
The readings for this weekend underscore the fact that God calls sinners to repentance and the unworthy to positions of trust and responsibility. This theme, if so it might be termed, should be obvious. All of us are sinners and none of us are worthy, in a strict usage of the term, of the work with which God may entrust us. God's method, so to speak, is to meet us where we are and lead us forward, inviting us to develop our God-given gifts along the way.
In the course of accepting and living out God's call, we are made, if not entirely worthy, then at least less unworthy; we advance on the path to sainthood. God sees the work-in-progress that we are here in time and space and God also sees the shining saint, the perfected masterpiece that we are, in eternity. Like a parent helping a toddler learn to walk, God is always there for us, however many times we might stumble.
In the first reading, Isaiah finds himself called to prophetic service and recognizing in the holy presence of God his sinfulness, his inadequacy, Isaiah does not feel up to the call. He in fact seems to dread the very idea of it. He describes a ritual purification which cannot be taken literally, but which exemplifies the dynamic: accept the call and God will see to your purification through it (vss. 4-8).
The Gospel passage likewise demonstrates this basic theme. The tremendous catch of fish, which threatens to sink two boats, after the disciples had had their nets in the water all night and caught nothing, overwhelms Peter. He sees it for the sign that it is -- he is favored by God, he is called, he is chosen (to use a word that is being used a lot of late given that show of the same name). Peter feels unworthy; his feelings of unworthiness are intense. I have always loved Peter's response to the catch, falling to his knees and begging the Lord to leave him. Peter clearly feels, as did Isaiah, that he cannot live up to the demands of the call (vs. 8).
Jesus' gentle response tells us all we need to know, where our feelings of unworthiness are concerned. "Do not be afraid," Jesus assures Peter. "From now on you will be catching men" (vs. 10). That is, this enormous, this seemingly miraculous catch of fish, which so overwhelms Peter, is almost nothing, as far as Jesus is concerned. Peter literally has "bigger fish to fry," and Jesus assures him that God has major plans for him.
I can relate easily to the anxiety expressed by both Isaiah and Peter. When first exploring the possibility of a call to priesthood, I told the young priest I was speaking with that I felt unworthy of priesthood. He assured me that such a feeling was a good indicator that I was, in fact, being called. "You cannot wait to be perfect to become a priest, Jim," he said. "If that were the case, we would have no priests. Rather, the preparation for priesthood and then later, priesthood itself, will purify and sanctify you. That is the way a vocational call works. It's the same for married couples. Husbands and wives advance on the path to sainthood by living out their vocation to marriage; married life itself can and should be purifying and sanctifying."
All of which underscores a distinction between classical Protestant thinking on this subject and the teaching of the Church. I say "classical" because although the doctrinal position has not, to my knowledge, ever changed, you will find very few of our brethren in the other Christian denominations who buy into Reformation anthropology (that is, the Protestant reformers' theory of human nature).
Lutheran (and subsequent Reformation) anthropology asserts that Original Sin so vitiated human nature that we are utterly corrupted; incapable of good. The doctrine is called total depravity. In Luther's teaching there are no living saints; there can't be. What enters heaven is not a human being made perfect by the long process of purification and sanctification which begins here on earth and for most of us is completed in Purgatory. Rather, what enters heaven is a "dung heap" (Luther's own words, translated, of course, from the original German); a dung heap covered in snow. God throws a mantle of righteousness ("snow") over us, covering our sins, rather than actually taking them away.
Five hundred years after Martin Luther, we can only speculate as to his reasons for developing such a stark anthropology, such a dismal assessment of human nature. It was said that Luther (an Augustinian friar prior to his break with Rome) sometimes spent six hours in confession, so tortured was he by his sins; by his apparent weakness in the face of temptation. Luther, it appears, experienced himself as utterly corrupt, and felt not just unworthy of his religious call, but incapable of living it.
Luther offers a striking contrast to Isaiah and Peter, who, also acknowledging their sinfulness, nonetheless open themselves to the operation of grace, allowing themselves to move along the path of gradual purification and sanctity; the path to sainthood.
In fact, almost any Protestant believer you talk with is going to tell you that they believe human beings are capable of doing good, and that we can and do advance in holiness, if we want to. But the strict theology, based on Lutheran understandings of human nature, is that we are exempt from doing good works above all because we cannot do them. We are totally depraved. This is why evangelical Christians will talk about accepting the free gift of salvation -- why they will tell you they know they are "saved." They are certain of heaven, because -- strictly speaking, in their theology -- they do not have to do anything to earn it.
The Church does not teach that we can "earn" heaven, either -- salvation is by grace. But grace does not just save; it empowers. It empowers in numerous ways but two of them are bedrock understandings of Catholic teaching. One, grace empowers us to do good works. According to Scripture itself (which should matter to folks who say that Scripture alone is our guide) faith without works "is dead" (Letter of James 2:14-26). A living faith is going to show itself in good works; it is going to produce good fruit (Matthew 7:16).
Two, grace empowers us to fight against our fallen nature, to fight against it and to achieve victories over it. Grace empowers the development within us of the virtues which make war on our sinful inclinations. This is what is meant by Matthew 11:12: "The kingdom of heaven is taken by force and the violent bear it away." We don't get to heaven content to wallow in sin, excusing ourselves with the false notion that we were born depraved and there is nothing we can do about it. St. Paul repeatedly admits his own struggle with sin; he is anything but complacent about it (2 Corinthians 12:7-10).
This topic demands and deserves a more thorough treatment, but as this is a Sunday homily and not a chapter in a book, I am going to leave off with it here; I feel I have driven home my basic point. Put in a maxim I rather admire: God does not call the qualified. God qualifies the called.
I have spent quite a bit of time the past ten days responding to texts, e-mails and mailed cards, wishing me a happy birthday. I am still getting the texts answered; will have responded to all of them before this weekend is out. There were almost 300 texts alone. I still have a Facebook account but am never on it -- I do remember receiving 400 and more birthday greetings on Messenger, back in the days when I was active on FB. If people have sent messages to me via Messenger -- my thanks.
Two weeks after the day itself, I have birthday celebrations stretching ahead into the second half of the month, including a family brunch at the home of one of my nieces President's Day weekend. I joke with friends that late January and the entire month of February constitute "the season of Father Jim's birthday." I really do appreciate the love -- and talk about feeling unworthy! In any event, I want to acknowledge all the beautiful messages of affection, encouragement and support. There are several reasons why February is my favorite month; this is one of them.
Speaking of my favorite month. Thanking the Lord for the wonderful grey skies this week, for the heavy winds and sheeting rain. After a January that might have been borrowed from Palm Desert, this month's storms are more than welcome. As I am finishing this e-mail, Friday morning in the rectory (heading to campus in another hour or so; I teach afternoons, this semester) there are bright and billowy clouds above the green hills of Hayward; bright and billowy clouds in several shades of grey. The sight is as pretty as it is reassuring. Thank you, Lord, for seeing to California's perpetual thirst!
Gonna wrap it here. Hope this finds you well and thriving. Hope that 2025 is off to a good start for you. It is, actually, off to the best start of any year for me since before COVID. Just another reason to sing thanks and praise to our loving and merciful God, whose graces abound.
Take care and God bless.
Fr. Brawn