Hope is a funny concept.  In the vernacular, it is waiting for something to happen. You hope for your favorite team to win.  You hope for the best on your latest round of midterms.  You hope that the weather holds out for the weekend.  You hope for rain on the fields when they need them.  You hope for a little sunshine when you go to the beach.  You hope that someone will do something for those children in Africa.  You hope the economy gets better.  You hope that the cancer they found in a loved one is curable.  You hope that the illness that or sickness doesn’t lead to death.

Hope, in our common language is a very passive word.

People that hope in the Lord know that they can’t just sit around wishing, they know that hope goes hand in hand with faith.  That simple four letter word is transformed when it is placed with faith and with people of faith and hearts filled with love.  Hope becomes very much an active word.

Hope and faith, or perhaps more accurately said, hope in faith, means preparation, vigilance, and action.

In the United States, we are fast approaching Thanksgiving.  One of the first English settlements in North America was at Plymouth colony, in what is today Massachusetts - they celebrated the first Thanksgiving for the help and guidance of Divine Providence for bringing them to a new land.  Here was a people, persecuted for their faith - run out of England and driven to the Netherlands, and finally - to the wilderness of the New World and the middle of a wilderness.  In the first year, over half of them would die of starvation or disease.  Their hope in the Lord and his guidance was not a passive thing.  They pushed on - through it all, and in the end, the experience served to only deepen their faith.

There is a famous painting of George Washington at Valley Forge, during one of the darkest times for the American Army, it shows Washington kneeling in prayer at night in the quiet woods of Pennsylvania with the snow coming down.  Those that know history know that there was also a great deal of activity behind the scenes as well - it was at Valley Forge that the ragtag American Army gained their professionalism under the care of several foreign officers, especially the Prussion Von Stuben.  There were prayers to be sure, but a lot of work behind it.

When Mom fell ill with cancer - we all hoped for the best.  But this was followed up with constant prayer, attention to details like her medicines, making sure that she was cared for 24/7, brewing tea that was said to have curative properties, there were prayers for wisdom and patience for ourselves too - when the burdens seemed unbearable.  When the battle was almost over - the first people that Dad called were Father Reid and Father John.  And as sad as we were with her passing, we knew that it wasn’t the end, merely a transition.  As a farmer - Dad knew this well.  Spring turned to summer, summer turned to fall - and harvest was gathered in.  There is pain, but the it is eased by the faith, and which is still fed by the prayers for her and her soul.  The hope burns brighter than ever that the end hasn’t come - we hope in the risen Lord.

How do we know?  Science hasn’t proven the existence of heaven nor hell.  How do we know that there is more beyond us?  For people of faith - it is an easy exercise.  People of fath hope and pray for wisdom.  People of faith aim for prudence.  People of faith try to make their faith and our hope an active one - and though there are doubts, wisdom finds them - and their lamps are always trimmed and at the ready.

 In a fit of rage, Napoleon Bonaparte is said to have said to church officials, “I will destroy your Church.”

One of the Cardinals, Consalvi, when told of it, retorted, “He will never succeed. We have not managed to do it ourselves!”

Our church, Christianity, has been plagued by scandal, divisions, poor leadership, scoundrels, crisis, war, insanity, pedophiles, materialism, hostility, and a whole litany of challenges in its two thousand year history.  Regardless what branch or creed of Christianity you profess.

It makes you wonder how it could survive?

From the early Roman persecutions (Saint Lawrence, burning on the rack - a metal grate, suspended over a fire - was said to have quipped, “I think I’m done on this side.”), to the schism that developed (was Christ God or man?  What of the other gospels?), to the Dark Ages, where the Christian monasteries were the last refuge of art and learning, right on through the Reformation - where corrupt practices of some clergy lead to the deep divisions that exist today.  These were followed by centuries of religious warfare, where Christian has killed Christian.  Then, to the Great Wars, when Europe, and the world, was rent asunder and not only was Christianity under fire (priests, ministers, nuns, monks, and people of faith died with their Jewish brothers and sisters in the death camps), but the very existence of God was questioned.  And let’s face it, that is a pretty small list.

And yet, our faith lives.

It could grow exponentially if you add all of the crack pots, greedy, indiotic, leaders - from local on up, that have lead the faithful for the last two thousand years.

And yet, our faith lives.

Then there is the case of the men and women that were good people, sometimes great people, that made poor decisions.  Or that allowed politics and division reign.  Read the letters of Paul and Peter and tell me that there wasn’t debate going on about our faith!

And yet, our faith lives.

Then there are the scandals, the pregnant nuns, the inquisitions, an England red with the blood of martyrs in the name of religion, indulgences, the pedophiles.  The more you read, the more you find.

And yet, our faith lives.

There are also the personal crisis of faith.  The nagging questions, the hurts, the feelings of abandonment, our souls, hearts and minds crying out - Lord, where are you…and hear nothing…

And yet, our faith lives.

Despite the failings of men - as Jesus points out to us today, despite our own failings, despite the failings of the institutions that are to guide, protect, and hold us holy and be righteous - instead, they become burdens, they hold us back, they instill fear, not love.

And yet, our faith lives.

Because our faith is not in men.  Our institutions of faith, our personal faith, is not perfect, for we are men - and men are not perfect.  But our faith, our inmost faith, is a gift - it is guided by the Holy Spirit, and that, no man, no imperfection, can destroy.

I’ve been living overseas now for almost two years. Though Australia is an English speaking country, that doesn’t mean that there isn’t some stark cultural differences.  It is a long, long way from home.  There is also a small, minority that really don’t like Americans - or me for that matter.  And they aren’t afraid of showing it.I still hear, “That isn’t how it’s done here.” Or “You would understand, you aren’t from here.”  Or a whole range of small digs and comments, just those small ones to make sure that I know that I don’t belong, and that I’m a long way from home.  Perhaps, that is why the words in Exodus hit home for me today - “You shall not molest or oppress an alien, for you were once aliens yourselves in the land of Egypt.  You shall not wrong any widow or orphan.  If you ever wrong them and they cry out to me, I will surely hear their cry.”

But in truth, those comments, those attitudes are not that common, and in truth, I’ve been very blessed by the open reception that I’ve been granted here.  People have opened up their homes and their families to me (and occasionally their wine cellars).

When I look back on the memories that I’ve made - it will be the trips to the farms and the fields.  It will be the bottle of wine at the country home outside of Ballarat, it will be the lamb roast in Corowa, it will be the sausage sizzle and crop tour in Kyabrum, it will be the roast and laughter in the dining room of the farm house in St. Arnaud.  It will be the vinery dinner with the family in Gippsland, the Christmas dinner in Beulah, the dinners in the wine vault, the coffees in the kitchens in the city and the country….

In short, it will be those people that welcomed me, those people that wether they knew it or not, were living the simple yet profound commandments, that, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your mind and with all your soul.” And the one like it, “To love your neighbour as yourself.”

I’ve been blest as well to experience the positive, and but also the negatives.  For now I know, when I’m home, how to treat the foreigner - how to love my neighbour has myself.  Both experiences have made me a better person, and a better Christian.  For like the proverbial vine that must be pruned and cut back to make it stronger and more productive, we too must suffer the hurts and the trials - and it makes the sweetness of life, all the sweeter.

 As a child, it was my responsibility to play, poop (preferably in a toilet), and eat - and to listen to my Mom and Dad, and begrudgingly my older brothers.

Once I turned six, those responsibilities grew.  I had to attend school, feed calves, watch out for my younger sister, as well as do all of the things that needed to be done.

As time went by, that list of responsibilities grew.  Milking and feeding cows, helping out in the fields, doing well in classes, working, earning money, going to college were all incremental steps in my first eighteen years.

Responsibilities grow with time, as we mature and age.

Part of that responsibility is to do our civic duties.  We must pay taxes.  We must, provided they are just, obey the laws of the land.  We must serve on jury duty.  If there is a draft, we must do our military service.  We should vote.  We should be active members of our community and government.  These things are either required of us, or are part of being an active member of our community.

We must pay to Caesar, what belongs to Caesar.

But there are other things that we are required to do, there are other responsibilities.  We must be our brother’s keeper.  We must use our time, talents, and treasures to help our fellow man, to help society, to make the most of our lives here on earth.  We must obey not just man’s law, but also our Lord’s law - the Ten Commandments as well as the great commandments (Love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your mind, and all your soul and love your neighbor as yourself).  We must give what we can to charity, to help those less fortunate. 

We have these basic responsibilities as Christians, and as human beings - we must feed the hungry; give drink to the thirsty; clothe the naked; harbor the harborless; visit the sick; ransom the captive; finally, we must bury the dead.

But how can we do these things in our daily lives?  Each of us is given time, talents, and treasures.  Each of us is asked to give of them.

In one of the parable, Jesus tells us that what we do for the least of his children we do for him - so how are we to do these things - how do we feed the hungry?

Give to a food shelf, or to a charity that feeds or clothes people in need.  Give to the appeal for the poor starving people of East Africa.  Or give to the Red Cross, Catholic Relief Services, or one of the countless other organizations that try to relieve starvation and suffering.

Easy if you have money, but what if you have none?

Then what of your talents?  Can you organize a community event?  Can you sing in a choir that gives a concert?  Can you give craft items?  Can you find some talent, something you are good at and try to work its way for good?

But alas, you have no talent that can help…what of time?  Can you feed a meal at a shelter?  Can you donate time at a food shelf?  Can you work a pledge drive?

There are literally hundreds of ways that we can relieve the suffering of our fellow men.  We are called to serve.  We are called to repay to God, what belongs to God - our time, our talents, our treasures, our very lives. 

 Life is hard.  From birth until death, some days, it just seems like a constant struggle.

I’ve come to a painful realization, something that is hard to accept.  Much of that struggle, much of the pain, comes from choice.

Foolishness you say!  So much of life is what is handed to us - so much of life is outside of our control, outside of our choices, how dare anyone say that happiness is dependent upon our choices.

But at truth, at heart it is.  My grandmother Rose saw much pain and strife in here 90 years, yet her optimism and control never wavered.  Was she sad?  Did she grieve?  Did she suffer?  Absolutely, but she took her trials in stride, she looked beyond.  She prayed.  She laughed.  She loved.

I’ve been far from home going on two years now.  Is it hard to be so far away from home?  Absolutely.  Do I regret being here?  Not a chance.  It took thought, prayer, counsel, prayer, and reflection - and finally a decision.  And I’ve not looked back.  It was my choice.  I could linger on the things I miss, or I could focus on the great things here - the friends and relationships that I’ve formed that would never have happened should I have returned home sooner.  My choice has been to take the opportunity - to build, to grow, to learn, to sow for time and life yet unknown.

My choice to stay.  My choice to build.  My choice to put my hand on the plow and not look back.  Sometimes it is hard.  Sometimes it is easy.  As St. Paul says, “In every circumstance and in all things I have learned the secret of being well fed and going hungry, of living in abundance and of being in need.  I can do all things in him who strengthens me….My God will fully supply whatever you need, in accord with his glorious riches in Christ Jesus.”

It is our choice to do things in his strength.

But in the end, it is our choice. 

Like the king who set the feast and invited the guests, only to be rebuked not once, but twice, until finally he opened it up for all to come - but the one guest who wasn’t properly attired, who didn’t prepare, wasn’t welcome.

Many are invited, but few are chosen.

How people responded to the invitation, to the call, was very telling.  There were those who ignored it completely.  There were those who were openly hostile to it.  There were those who came, but came unprepared.

In the end, each of them was a choice.

In our lives here today, we are called - we are invited - to live a life in the spirit.  We are called to love our neighbors, to help our communities, to give of our time our time, talent, and treasure, to follow our calling here on earth, to help make it a little better place for our children, and our children’s children.  This is our choice.

Regardless if we know it or not, those choices we make - to live in the spirit, to be a people of faith, to follow the call regardless the cost - is our answer to the call to the wedding feast.  What RSVP will we send? 

 I’m not a wine connoisseur.  There are those that can tell by the color, flavor, and texture each and every wine.  They will use words like, “leathery finish,” or “hints of citrus” or my favorite, “faint hints of kerosene.”

There are some people that make very good wine.  An old vintner at a little winery once told me that a good wine is really a combination of good grapes, good wine making, and great care and love.  It is all about how the grapes grow, and how the vintner choses to make them work together during the fermentation process.  How he works with what he is given.

And in the end, each of them is a choice.

So it is with our lives.  We can choose to do good.  We make the choice to use our gifts and our talents to help others, to make the most of it, to fight through the struggles.

Conversely, we could use our lives for sin and destruction.  We can waste our time and our energy, our talents and gifts.

So it was in the vineyard, the tenants took what was given to them, used it - but used it poorly.  Is there any wonder that they were cast out.  They didn’t do the master’s bidding - not even when he sent his only son.  They lost it all.

Or perhaps we could use the example from Isaiah - the grapes that grew wild.  That didn’t produce the harvest.  Those vines were left to ruin.

But Paul gives us words of encouragement - words that a good vine, or a good vintner are to follow - “Have no anxiety at all, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with all thanksgiving, make your requests known to God.  Then the peace of God that surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus….whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is gracious, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things…Then the God of peace will be with you.”

Pray.  Petition.  Thank.  Think - and do - what is true, honorable, just, pure, lovely, be gracious, seek excellence…

Good words for a budding vintner, or a growing vine looking to make choice wine.  We are called to be vintners, to be wine for the world.  To do these things.  To be a light for the world.  We are to use the gifts, the talents, our very lives to do these things.  Our lives are not our own.

We can chose to be a good grape - to use the natural abilities that have been given us.  We can chose to be a good vintner, to use what has been given and with great care and love, to make something unique, something special.  In the end, that choice is ours.

Make good wine.  Be good wine.

 Society has a list of norms, things that we ought to do.  Brush out teeth, get a good job, wear nice cloths, drive ‘the right’ make of car, watch ‘the right’ shows on television - all of these things society, call it peer pressure, tries to enforce.

And woe to the person that steps out of what is perceived to be normal.  Even if this normal means accepting all things as they are - calling good evil and evil good. 

Society is a finicky thing.  But I don’t think that is new.

In ancient times, and even well into our modern age, ‘good people’ went to church every Sunday.  They could go through the motions, say the words, and proceed with their lives during the week looking out for themselves, gossiping with others, and otherwise making an arse of themselves.

Meanwhile, others, some of whom didn’t go to church every Sunday (if at all!) where doing the deeds - feeding the hungry, clothing the poor, sheltering the homeless.  Like the son in the Gospel, they might have said “no Father, I will not follow you,” but in their hearts, they were doing the deeds that made them Christians.

Words without actions are empty things.

But often times, this isn’t an easy thing.  Increasingly, society is telling us what is and isn’t acceptable - on both ends of the political, and dare I say, religious spectrum.  They are bothing saying what we ought to do.  One side is preaching condemn all those that don’t believe, one side is saying you must accept everyone and all of the choices they make and support them.

In the end, it is about hating the sin, but loving the sinner.  It is about realize the fault in our own lives, without judging the others - but also not focusing on what we ‘ought’ to do, but what is right and what is wrong.

It is not about who is, or was, a sinner - but where we stand today.  As Paul tells us, “Do nothing out of selfishness or out of vainglory; rather, humbly regard others as more important than yourselves, each looking out not for his own interests, but also for those of others.”

Society tells us this is foolishness.  That it is about looking out for ourselves and not minding what others do….

But it is less about doing what we ought, and more about doing what we should - and following the greatest commandment - Love the Lord your God with all your might, and love your neighbour as yourself.

 Growing up on a farm in the middle of the harsh climate of Northwestern Minnesota, there wasn’t much use of tears.  You might freeze your fingers and toes in the winter, but tears wouldn’t bring the feeling back.  In the summer, you could sweat away in the heat and humidity of the hay barn or the rafters of the hay shed, but the tears won’t help you keep any cooler.  If a cow stepped on your foot, there wasn’t anyone there to wipe the tears, nor would it do any good.  And more than likely, with a crew of older brothers, you would be scolded for the tears.

So through training and learning, the tears don’t flow very much any more.

If the pains and maladies of the farm wouldn’t send tears, rarely would stories, poems, songs, or speeches cause the tears to well up.

I have to say, there were a few tears this morning sitting in the pew of St. Patricks.  Was it joy, was it grace, was it faith?  I’m not sure.  Father Kevin McGovern answered an age old question for me from one of the most perplexing readings from the New Testament.

I’ve never understood the parable of the workers in the vineyard, those workers that were paid the same regardless of the hours they spent toiling in the sun.  I’ve never understood how someone that did less work could still make the same money - was God a Socialist?

The parable that Father McGovern gave went something like this:

A man died and went to the gates of heaven.  He was a good man, a good husband, a good father.  He worked, he went home, he did the things that society said he was supposed to do.

Behind him was a woman.  She was a real go getter.  She was a fantastic wife and mother.  She was active in the community.  She actively lived her faith - in addition to be a loving mother and wife, she fed the hungry, clothed the naked, and truly tried to make the world a better place.  She wasn’t content to stay inside the box - she got out and really tried to make a difference.

As the man walked up to St. Peter, he was greeted with these words - “Welcome to heaven, good and faithful servant.  You gave twenty measures of service, in return, you will get a thousand measures here in heaven.”

Right behind him was the woman, and St. Peter smiled, and greeted her, “Welcome to heaven, good and faithful servant.  You gave five hundred measures of service, in return, you will get a thousand measures here in heaven.”

There was an awkward silence as both the man and woman thought about the differences in their lives - and sameness of the reward….

Finally the women spoke, “Had I known that I could have done the minimum and still received the same reward, had I known I could have done away with the pain and the angst…I don’t think I would have done anything differently.”

As a Christian, it never quite sunk in that while we aim for heaven, part of the reward is doing His will on earth.  We can live a timid life, we can live a life of safety and comfort - conforming to society….

Or we can take the other route - following the voice inside of us directing us to stand up for the weak, the poor, the homeless, the innocent.  There are few satisfactions in this life…but it is the joy of the life well lived.  The pay at the end doesn’t matter as much as the passion, the joy in a job done well.  Nothing more will glorify our Lord, then this.

God is no socialist.  He knows that we must enjoy what we do, but we must also have the freedom to live our lives, to struggle, to fail, to triumph, to run the race.

There were tears in my eyes as I reflected on this during the Eucharist.  Tears of joy.  But also a nagging pain…what life am I living?

 We do not live in a perfect world.  We are not perfect people.  There is no such thing as a perfect life.  We all have people that will let us down.  People that love us will hurt us.  People that should support us won’t.  Bad things will happen.

It would be easy to turn bitter and twisted.  It would be easy to grow wrathful and angry.  On the surface, it seems the easiest way, but in truth, it wounds the soul.

In my life, I’ve found two things are true:

First, as much as friends and family have hurt me, chances are, I’ve hurt and disappointed them just as much.  I’m also far from perfect, and to demand perfect from someone else is not only not right, but just plan senseless.

Second, life is too short to dwell on past hurts and pains.  Life is tough, and it is our job to help ease the lives of those around us.

In the Gospel today, we hear of the two servants, the one that is forgiven the mighty debt and in return holds his fellow servant accountable for his debt.  Our debt is sin.  Our Lord is merciful.  It is our job to do likewise.

It is ironic that these readings, these passages hit us on the day of September 11^th, as the United States remembers one of the worst attacks to take place on its soil.  As horrible as the experience was, there was also much goodness that came out of it.  Neighborhoods coming together, charitable organizations were formed, communities were bonded due to the experience.

As a nation, we were scarred.  As a people, it changed how many of us view the world.  As a world, it changed our ideas of safety.

But it was the death and destruction, and the sight of the thousands of fire fighters and law enforcement officers that ran into the maelstrom to save lives that brings the words of Pauls letter to life:

“None of us lives for oneself, and no one dies for oneself.  For if we live, we live for the Lord, and if we die, we die for the Lord.”

Our lives are not our own.  We are called, we are chosen to lead a life extraordinary.  We are meant to forgive the hurts and the personal injustices.  We are called to be a light for nations.  We are called to be a light for our families and friends.

We are called to do it every day.

Today, make that phone call to the friend that hurt you.  Call a loved one that you haven’t talked to in a while. Go to church.  Pray.  As the book of Sirach encourages us, “Remember our last days, set enmity aside.”

Let us endeavour to live our lives as ones that are alive.  To live our lives for Jesus Christ who died for our sins, who forgives our transgressions, who reigns surpreme and beckons us onward to build his kingdom on earth, to fight for His kingdom, so that we might know the glories and the peace that comes with grace.

 I think Paul was trying to be funny in his letter to the Romans, “Owe nothing to anyone, except to love one another.”

It is kind of like the old one liner, “Other than that, how was the play Mrs Lincoln?”

Jesus showed us the power of love.  On the one hand, it led to his death - the horrible death on the cross.  But it while it was love that led to his death, it was that same love that lead to his glory.  The cross without love is an empty death.  With the cross, it ripped asunder the ancient laws of heaven and hell.  With his love, he redeemed us, paid for us, and He himself came to full glory with the Father and Holy Spirit.

What can we do that can compare to that love?

Jesus himself tells us - in a very explicit way, how we are to love each other.  Where Jesus had to die for our sins to redeem the world, he calls us to help each other, one on one, individually.  In Matthew, he tells us, “If your brother sins against you, go and tell him his fault between you and him alone.  If he listens to you, you have won over your brother.  If he doesn’t listen, take one or two others along with you, so that every fact may be established on the testimony of two or three witnesses.  If he refuses to listen tell the church.  If he refuses to listen to even the church, then treat him as you would a Gentile or a tax collector.”

There is little more practical advice in the scriptures then this.  And truth be told, I’ve used it - and had it used on me, and the approach is brilliant.  Almost fool proof!

But human nature is human nature.  More often than not, our first inclination is to treat people like Gentiles or tax collectors.  We don’t shun them, but we try not to deal with them.  We exclude, we turn our backs on them.

Or else we go right to the pulpit - maybe not in the literal sense, but we do things like confronting at family events, or worse, at when they aren’t even present!

I wish I could say that my hands are clean of this, but I can tell you some doozies.  And quite honestly, if they would have started with the one on one conversations, more often than not, it would have led to a richer conversation.  Not only because the Lord understands human nature, so he knows that we are more receptive to one on one feedback, but he also understands that most “sin” is probably a misunderstanding, and rarely is the guilty party the only guilty party.

Most times, when two or three people sit down to discuss some wrong that needs to be righted, the conversation ends well.  Generally, especially when true love is present, there is general understanding.

The last line from Matthew probably explains why that miracle seems to happen - because we are not alone! 

“For where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I in their midst.”