Saturday, November 21, 2015

CHRIST THE KING (Dn 7:13-14; Rv 1:5-8; Jn 18:33b-37)

In the 1920s, a totalitarian regime gained control of Mexico and tried to suppress the Church. To resist the regime, many Christians took up the cry, "Viva Cristo Rey!” (“Long live Christ the King!”) They called themselves "Cristeros." The most famous Cristero was a young Jesuit priest named Padre Miguel Pro. Using various disguises, Padre Pro ministered to the people of Mexico City. Finally the government arrested him and sentenced him to public execution on November 23, 1927. The president of Mexico (Plutarco Calles) thought that Padre Pro would beg for mercy, so he invited the press to the execution. Padre Pro did not plead for his life, but instead knelt holding a crucifix. When he finished his prayer, he kissed the crucifix and stood up. Holding the crucifix in his right hand, he extended his arms and shouted, "Viva Cristo Rey!" (“Long live Christ the King!”) At that moment the soldiers fired. The journalists took pictures.

The Church’s liturgical year concludes with this feast of Christ the King, instituted by Pope Pius XI in 1925, 2 years before Fr.Migual Pro was martyred. This feast was established and proclaimed by the Pope to reassert the sovereignty of Christ and the Church over all forms of government and to remind Christians of the fidelity and loyalty they owed to Christ, who by his Incarnation and sacrificial death on the cross had made them both adopted children of God and future citizens and heirs of the Kingdom of Heaven. Christ is our spiritual King and Ruler who rules by truth and love.

In thousands of human hearts all over the world, Jesus still reigns as King. The Cross is his throne and the Sermon on the Mount, his rule of law.  His citizens need obey only one major law: “Love God with all your being, and love others as I have loved you.” His love is selfless, compassionate, forgiving, and unconditional.

Jesus admits that he is a king but declares that his Kingdom is not of this world. Neither his present nor his future reign operates according to the world’s criteria of power and dominance. Jesus’ Kingdom, the reign of God, is based on the beatitudes, and he rules through service rather than through domination.  His authority is rooted in truth, not in physical force. Jesus also claims that he has come to bear witness to the truth about a larger and eternal Kingdom.
In the first part of the trial conducted by Pilate he questions Jesus about his kingship. Jesus boldly affirms to Pilate that He is that Son of Man who will come on the clouds of heaven as a king. In effect, Jesus is saying, "Don't worry, Pilate. I'm not here to take your job, or to dethrone Caesar, for my kingdom is not political but spiritual. It's not on your maps!" When Jesus affirms that His whole purpose is to testify to the truth, Pilate cynically asks, "What is truth?"
In Verse  37 Pilate declares, "You are a king, then!" In some ways, this is another wrong question. Jesus turns it around: "You are saying that I am a king." With that statement Jesus is again putting Pilate on trial: "You have said it, but is it what you believe?"

Here is a story that illustrates what is going on in this dialogue between Jesus and Pilate:
An Amish man was once asked by an enthusiastic young evangelist whether he had been saved, and whether he had accepted Jesus Christ as his Lord and Savior?
The gentleman replied, "Why do you ask me such a thing? I could tell you anything. Here are the names of my banker, my grocer, and my farm hands. Ask them if I've been saved." Jesus could tell Pilate anything. What is important is what Pilate believes.

Do we believe Jesus to be the King by our actions more than our words?

As we celebrate the Kingship of Christ today, let us remember the truth that he is not our King if we do not listen to him, love him, serve him, and follow him.  We belong to his Kingdom only when we try to walk with him, when we try to live our lives fully in the spirit of the Gospel and when that Gospel spirit penetrates every facet of our living.  We become Christ the King’s subjects when we sincerely respond to his loving invitation: "Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart" (Matthew 11:29). By cultivating in our lives the gentle and humble mind of Christ, we show others that Jesus Christ is in indeed our King and that he is in charge of our lives.

In every moral decision we face, there’s a choice between Christ the King and Barabbas, and the one who seeks to live in Christ's Kingdom is the one who says, “Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth as it is in Heaven.”  On this great Feast of Christ the King, let us resolve to give him the central place in our lives and promise to obey his commandment of love by sharing what we have with all his needy children.


Friday, November 13, 2015

OT XXXIII [B]  Dn 12:1-3; Heb 10:11-14, 18; Mk 13:24-32

At the age of 20, Art Berg was a very happy man. Everything was going right. He was a gifted athlete and had started his own tennis court construction company. And he was engaged to a beautiful woman. Leaving California one Christmas eve, he was headed to Utah with a friend. He was going to meet his fiancée and complete their wedding plans.
During the long drive, he fell asleep while at the wheel. His car hit an abutment and rolled down a hill. He was ejected from the car and found himself laying on the desert with a broken neck. He was paralyzed from the chest down. He completely lost the use of his legs and arms. The doctors concluded that he could never play sports again and would be dependent on others the rest of his life. One even suggested he forget getting married.

Art Berg was really afraid. It was the darkest moment in his life. The "end times" were upon him. In the midst of his peril his mother came and whispered a few words in his ear. "Art, while the difficult takes time, the impossible takes a little longer." In other words, "don’t panic!" Suddenly, Art’s darkness was filled with a light of hope. That was eleven years ago. Today Art Berg is president of his own company, a professional speaker and author. He has gained back some of the use of his arms and legs and can now drive. He travels across the country sharing his message, "that the impossible just takes a little longer." Art married his fiancée and they have two children. He has even returned to the world of sports, swimming and scuba diving. In l993 Art was the first quadriplegic to race 32 miles in a marathon, all because he didn’t panic.

Today’s first and third readings are about the future. ‘Apocalyptic’ is the word used to describe the kind of writing we see in today’s gospel reading.  Biblical apocalypse was written in times of persecution, to encourage the persecuted by telling them that their sufferings were foreseen by God, and that they would prevail in the end.  Courage, not fear, was being promoted. 

The readings give us the assurance that our God will be with us all the days of our lives and that we will have the ongoing presence of the Holy Spirit in our midst guiding, protecting and strengthening us in spite of our necessary human uncertainty concerning the end-time when “Christ will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead.”  Next Sunday is the Thirty-fourth and last Sunday in our liturgical year when we celebrate the Feast of Christ the King, and the following Sunday marks the beginning of the Advent season with a new Liturgical Cycle.  Each year at this time, the Church asks us to mediate on the “last things” – Death, Judgment, Heaven and Hell -- as they apply to us.
The Gospel of Mark was written in the year 69 AD, just one year before the destruction of the Temple of Jerusalem, at a time when the Romans were suppressing Jewish protests and persecuting Christians.  Many Christians began wondering why Jesus did not return as he had promised.  Some even wondered whether he had really been the promised Messiah.  Hence, Mark tried to strengthen their faith by quoting Jesus’ predictions of the coming persecution of the faithful (13:9-13), the destruction of Jerusalem (13:2, 7-9, 14-20), the rise of the Anti-Christ (13:5-6, 21-23), the end of the world, and Christ’s Second Coming (13:24-26).  Mark also offered hope to a persecuted community by reminding the people of Jesus’ promise that wars, natural disasters and betrayal by family members would be overcome when the Son of Man returned to gather in his loved ones.

What can we take from this apocalyptic language?  One aspect of it we can relate to fairly readily in our day: transience.  Everything is passing, everything that is living will die.  In an age of immense and rapid change we cannot fail to see that everything is passing.  In some part of our minds we would like to hold this reality away from us because it is too painful to think about.  But the Scriptures tell us to think about these things.  It is a pagan thing to deny death and transience, for if there is no death there is no resurrection. 

Every moment my personal world, with its dream of permanence, is coming to an end.  Every moment, because my world is coming to an end, I see that I cannot find security in the past but must throw myself on God's mercy, every moment.

Jesus tells us that our personal “end-time” is a prelude to eternal happiness.  However, we are all so taken in by our secular culture’s fascination and glamour that we are sometimes embarrassed or saddened by the signs of our own approaching end.  We foolishly consider growing old as an evil thing, rather than as a warning from a loving God to prepare to meet Him and to give an account of our lives.  Our aches and pains and frequent “doctor’s appointments” in our senior years should remind us of God’s warning that we are growing unfit to live in this world, and that we have to get ready for another world of eternal happiness. 


The end of the world should never be thought of as depressing, disheartening or frightening because we are in the hands of a good and loving God.  Christ’s second coming gives us the message that God is journeying with us in the trials and difficulties of life and that His word is ever-present as a light of hope.  He speaks to us through the Bible.  We have the Eucharist as a sign that God is with us, in our midst.  Holy Communion is our point of direct, personal contact with God.  That is why the holy Mass is special: the more fully and frequently we participate in the Mass, the more deeply the Lord can come to us, and the more completely He can remain with us. Let no one frighten us with disturbing descriptions of the end of the world because “the end” is all about the birth of everyone and everything into eternity.

Saturday, November 7, 2015

XXXII-B: 1 Kings 17:10-16; Heb 9:24-28; Mk 12:38-44

Some time ago, a father punished his 3-year-old daughter for wasting a roll of gold wrapping paper. Money was tight, and he became infuriated when the child tried to decorate a box to put under the tree.
Nevertheless, the little girl brought the gift to her father the next morning and said, "This is for you, Daddy." He was embarrassed by his earlier overreaction, but his anger flared again when he found that the box was empty.
He yelled at her, "Don't you know that when you give someone a present, there's supposed to be something inside of it?"

The little girl looked up at him with tears in her eyes and said, "Oh, Daddy, it's not empty. I blew kisses into the box. All for you, Daddy."
The father was crushed. He put his arms around his little girl, and he begged her forgiveness. He kept the gold box by his bed for years. Whenever he was discouraged, he would take out an imaginary kiss and remember the love of the child who had put it there.

Mark tells us that Jesus was in the Temple watching people. The poor widow who came to make her gift to the Temple treasury did not know she was being watched. This widow does nothing for show, her generosity is spontaneous. Her kind of generosity is only possible after a lifetime of giving, after decades of small deeds of charity, small acts of fidelity, of obedience and self-renunciation. 
She gives all, and she has nothing left. The widow has staked her life on this gift. These rich people do not know the end of their money. Their gift is not once and for all. They can repeat their giving. There is plenty more where that came from. They are the kind of people who know the price of everything and the value of nothing. There is a contrast between the noisy rich and the quiet and discreet widow. Like that child who had nothing but the kisses in the box, so this widow had nothing but two coins and she put all that quietly in the treasury.

We require total surrender to do such a giving. The tragedy of our lives is that often we hold some part of us. There are many barriers that block our total surrender to God: fear, pride, selfishness and confusion.
It is not the amount of gift, but what matters is the sacrifice behind it. Few people will show willingness to give up their comforts for giving contribution for a good cause. For us charity is to take out what is not necessary immediately. But the church teaches us today that charity should carry   a tint of sacrifice with it. The woman of the first reading had to make sacrifice to feed Elijah. The poor woman in the Gospel had to give up everything that she had saved for the day's expense.  So their offerings became precious in the sight of God.

Secondly, real giving is reckless, and symbolic of love. The woman could have given one coin and kept the other for herself. She could have kept both for herself. But she decided to give everything she had, and she did so.
In a few minutes you will be asked to make your annual commitment pledge. What is the criterion we apply to make the contribution? Though the widow’s attitude is ideal, I wouldn’t encourage you to do that. How about the Pharisees approach, give in a way not hurt me at all. Only from the surplus? Well, Jesus did not commend that either. May be a middle way? I think we need to see the needs of the parish first. We need $7250.00 every week to meet the budget.
When we feel we are losing by giving to the Church we wouldn’t feel like giving. Someone said No one ever become poor by giving.

A priest once asked one of his parishioners to serve as financial chairperson of his parish. The man, manager of a grain elevator, agreed on two conditions: no report would be due for a year, and no one would ask any questions during the year. At the end of the year he made his report. He had paid off the church debt of $200,000. He had redecorated the church. He had sent money to missions. He had $5,000 in the bank. Needless to say, everyone wanted to know how. The man quietly explained, "You people bring your grain to my elevator. As you did business with me, I simply withheld 10 percent and gave it to the church. You never missed it."
When we give if we ever think that we are going to go less by that, our willingness will diminish and we would withhold form giving. The bible says, God blesses the generous giver. If we believe that God will return it to us some other way, our giving will have more generosity.

The jar of flour did not go empty, nor the jug of oil run dry ( 1 Kings 17) for the widow who supplied bread for Elijah. Let her attitude of obedience and self sacrifice inspire us to examine ourselves; and practice our charity with an element of love and sacrifice.


XXXII-B: 1 Kings 17:10-16; Heb 9:24-28; Mk 12:38-44

Some time ago, a father punished his 3-year-old daughter for wasting a roll of gold wrapping paper. Money was tight, and he became infuriated when the child tried to decorate a box to put under the tree.
Nevertheless, the little girl brought the gift to her father the next morning and said, "This is for you, Daddy." He was embarrassed by his earlier overreaction, but his anger flared again when he found that the box was empty.
He yelled at her, "Don't you know that when you give someone a present, there's supposed to be something inside of it?"

The little girl looked up at him with tears in her eyes and said, "Oh, Daddy, it's not empty. I blew kisses into the box. All for you, Daddy."
The father was crushed. He put his arms around his little girl, and he begged her forgiveness. He kept the gold box by his bed for years. Whenever he was discouraged, he would take out an imaginary kiss and remember the love of the child who had put it there.
Mark tells us that Jesus was in the Temple watching people. The poor widow who came to make her gift to the Temple treasury did not know she was being watched. This widow does nothing for show, her generosity is spontaneous. Her kind of generosity is only possible after a lifetime of giving, after decades of small deeds of charity, small acts of fidelity, of obedience and self-renunciation. 

She gives all, and she has nothing left. The widow has staked her life on this gift. These rich people do not know the end of their money. Their gift is not once and for all. They can repeat their giving. There is plenty more where that came from. They are the kind of people who know the price of everything and the value of nothing. There is a contrast between the noisy rich and the quiet and discreet widow. Like that child who had nothing but the kisses in the box, so this widow had nothing but two coins and she put all that quietly in the treasury.
We require total surrender to do such a giving. The tragedy of our lives is that often we hold some part of us. There are many barriers that block our total surrender to God: fear, pride, selfishness and confusion.
It is not the amount of gift, but what matters is the sacrifice behind it. Few people will show willingness to give up their comforts for giving contribution for a good cause. For us charity is to take out what is not necessary immediately. But the church teaches us today that charity should carry   a tint of sacrifice with it. The woman of the first reading had to make sacrifice to feed Elijah. The poor woman in the Gospel had to give up everything that she had saved for the day's expense.  So their offerings became precious in the sight of God.

Secondly, real giving is reckless, and symbolic of love. The woman could have given one coin and kept the other for herself. She could have kept both for herself. But she decided to give everything she had, and she did so.
In a few minutes you will be asked to make your annual commitment pledge. What is the criterion we apply to make the contribution? Though the widow’s attitude is ideal, I wouldn’t encourage you to do that. How about the Pharisees approach, give in a way not hurt me at all. Only from the surplus? Well, Jesus did not commend that either. May be a middle way? I think we need to see the needs of the parish first. We need $7250.00 every week to meet the budget.
When we feel we are losing by giving to the Church we wouldn’t feel like giving. Someone said No one ever become poor by giving.

A priest once asked one of his parishioners to serve as financial chairperson of his parish. The man, manager of a grain elevator, agreed on two conditions: no report would be due for a year, and no one would ask any questions during the year. At the end of the year he made his report. He had paid off the church debt of $200,000. He had redecorated the church. He had sent money to missions. He had $5,000 in the bank. Needless to say, everyone wanted to know how. The man quietly explained, "You people bring your grain to my elevator. As you did business with me, I simply withheld 10 percent and gave it to the church. You never missed it."
When we give if we ever think that we are going to go less by that, our willingness will diminish and we would withhold form giving. The bible says, God blesses the generous giver. If we believe that God will return it to us some other way, our giving will have more generosity.
The jar of flour did not go empty, nor the jug of oil run dry ( 1 Kings 17) for the widow who supplied bread for Elijah. Let her attitude of obedience and self sacrifice inspire us to examine ourselves; and practice our charity with an element of love and sacrifice.


Saturday, October 31, 2015

All Saints’ Day-2015

Sister Mary Rose McGeady, in her book, Does God Still Love Me?, tells a wonderful story about a colony of mice who made their home at the bottom of a large upright piano. These mice lived in a world of constant music. Music filled all the dark spaces of their existence with lovely melodies and harmonies.
At first, the mice were impressed by the music. They drew comfort and wonder from the thought that Someone made the music--Someone though invisible to them, yet close to them. They loved to tell stories about the Great Unseen Piano Player whom they could not see.
Then one day an adventuresome mouse climbed up part of the way in the piano and returned with an elaborate explanation about how the music was made. Wires were the secret--tightly stretched wires of various lengths that vibrated and trembled from time to time. A second mouse ventured forth and came back telling of hammers--many hammers dancing and leaping on the wires.
The mice decided they must revise their old opinions. The theory they developed was complicated, but complete with evidence. In the end, the mice concluded that they lived in a purely mechanical and mathematical world--a world simply of wires and hammers. The story of the Unseen Piano Player was relegated to mere myth . . . But the Unseen Player continued to play nonetheless.

Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God. Seeing God and possessing the kingdom of God are main goals of human existence.

The Sermon on the Mount is a summary of all Christian teaching, but the Beatitudes are a summary of the Sermon on the Mount.  The Ten Commandments are basic rules of morality, but the Beatitudes are a measure of how far beyond this the Gospel calls us.   The morality of the Ten Commandments is a morality that can be measured: it is possible to say exactly where you are with them, ticking the ones you broke and the degree of the breach.  Christians may come to believe that they have no sin just because they haven't been in breach of the Commandments.  But the morality of the Beatitudes is harder to quantify: how poor in spirit are you?  How meek, gentle, merciful…?  You can never say “I’ve reached it!”  You can never be self-righteous.  And you can never even begin to think that you are better than another – because you can't compare.
In celebrating ‘all saints’ today we both acknowledge the many unnamed saints in heaven and also recognize that in baptism we ourselves have been set apart, established as sanctuaries of God’s presence. God invites each of us to grow in this holiness.

What is it then that makes a saint? The Beatitudes may appear to be a sort of practical guide to this holiness. Holiness is a mature friendship with Jesus Christ, a friendship so deep and strong that it allows us to experience the joy of eternal life even while still fighting the painful battles of our earthly exile. It is the truly amazing ability to experience deep joy even in the middle of terrible sorrow. This is what Jesus means when he says that those who are poor, in mourning, and persecuted are blessed. Even in modern times this joy amid suffering has constantly characterized mature Christians.

The sacrifices and struggles we go through here on earth to be faithful to Christ and the Church are worth it. All Saints' Day reminds us of something that can get lost in the other saints' days. The most famous saints often led such extraordinary lives that it's hard for us to emulate them. It's easy to honor them, recognizing all that they did for Christ, and all that Christ did for them.

But honoring the saints is not enough. We also need to emulate them. And this is where All Saints' Day comes in. Today we honor all of saintly men and women who have not been canonized by the Church, who are not famous saints, but who have nevertheless followed Christ heroically and taken their place in heaven. These are the saints that lived ordinary lives on the outside, and extraordinary lives on the inside. And God didn't overlook them. And there is no shortage of them. They make up a "great multitude, which no one could count," as St John puts it in the First Reading.
Today's Solemnity assures us that if we live each day as Christ would have us, striving to do God's will with all our strength and to love our neighbor as ourselves, then our lives, which look so ordinary on the outside, will be truly extraordinary on the inside. And we will be blessed in the eyes of God even though in the sight of the world our life may be a failure. As we commemorate and celebrate the lives of all the saints, let’s recognize our call to sainthood and strive to be holy by living the beatitudes accepting the challenges of our daily lives.




Saturday, October 24, 2015

O.T. XXX [B] Jer 31:7-9; Heb 5: 1-6; Mk10:46-52

According to a Jewish legend there was once a blind man who was married but had no children.  Although his life was hard, he never complained. One day as the blind man was sitting by a river, the prophet Elijah came to him from heaven and said, “Even though your life has been hard, you never complained, and so God will grant you one wish.” The poor man frowned. “Only one   wish!" he said. “I’m blind, I’m poor, and I’m childless. How will one wish satisfy all my problems? But give me twenty-four hours and I’ll think up a wish.” He went home and told his wife what had happened. She smiled at him and said, “Eat well and sleep soundly, for I know what you should wish.” He came back the next morning and said to Elijah as he appeared again, “I wish to be able to see my children eat from gold plates.” The wish was granted and the man and his wife lived happily for the rest of their days. Today’s Gospel presents another blind man whose wish was to regain his sight. Jesus restored sight to his eyes and to his spirit, and Bartimaeus immediately began to follow Jesus as a sighted, witnessing disciple, not only physically healed, but spiritually as well.

The Gospel explains how Jesus showed the mercy and compassion of his Heavenly Father by healing Bartimaeus, a blind man. Just as the blind and the lame were God’s concern in the first reading, Jesus was concerned with the blind beggar, Bartimaeus of Jericho. The story of Bartimaeus is the last healing miracle recorded in the Gospel of Mark. The story is presented dramatically. While the majority of those who received healing in the New Testament are not mentioned by name, in this case, the beggar’s name is given as Bartimaeus, which means son of Timaeus.  When the people told Bartimaeus the news of Jesus’ passage through the city, he began to shout his remarkable prayer of Faith: "Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me." Jesus was surrounded by a large crowd. Amid the noise and dust, people were jostling for attention, and beggars cried out for alms. In spite of this tumult, Jesus heard one voice crying out through the noise of the crowd. Who would have expected a Messianic greeting from a blind beggar? In spite of the crowd's objections, Jesus stopped and, recognizing Bartimaeus’ Faith, called the blind man over.

By addressing Jesus as Son of David, the beggar publicly identified Jesus as the Messiah. At Jesus’ summons, Bartimaeus threw aside his long cloak, his only possession, which protected him from heat and cold.  In throwing away his cloak, he gave up everything he had depended on, putting his complete trust in God. Jesus then asked, “What do you want me to do for you?" Bartimaeus replied promptly: “Master, I want to see.”Jesus rewarded his faith by restoring both his physical and his spiritual sight. Having received physical and spiritual sight, Bartimaeus followed Jesus joyfully along the road.  The gift of sight led Bartimaeus to faith, and faith came to full expression in committed discipleship. He wanted to stay close to his Savior, to thank, praise, and serve Him. I imagine there were more blind beggars on the road other than just Bartimaeus. But they didn’t know what they wanted. Most of them wanted alms and not healing.

Thousands of years ago a young Chinese emperor called upon his family's most trusted advisor. "Oh, learned counselor," said the emperor, "you have advised my father and grandfather. What is the single most important advice you can give me to rule my country?" And Confucius replied, "The first thing you must do is to define the problem."

Many unhappy people cannot put their finger on what is really causing their distress. Many unfulfilled people cannot even tell you what it would take to satisfy them. Many of us have no clear idea or conception what our real needs, our real desires, and our real priorities are. And because we have never defined the problem or clarified our goals, we spend a lifetime anxiously wandering with very little to ask from the Lord.

Like Bartimaeus, we must seek Jesus with trust in his goodness and mercy. Sometimes our fears, anger and habitual sins prevent us from approaching God in prayer. At times, we even become angry with God when He seems slow in answering our prayers.  In these desperate moments, let us approach Jesus in prayer with trusting Faith as Bartimaeus did and listen carefully to the voice of Jesus asking us: "What do you want me to do for you?” Let us tell Him all our heart’s intentions and needs.   



Saturday, September 19, 2015

OT XXV [B] Wis 2:12, 17-20; Jas 3:16--4:3; Mk 9:30-37
 
There was a story a number of years ago that was carried in the newspapers and in Time magazine. Mary Frances "Frankie" Housley was the lone stewardess on National Airlines flight 83 which crashed after landing at Philadelphia Airport in January, 1951. Frankie Housley had made 10 trips into that burning plane... to help passengers get out. As soon as she had finished getting all of the passengers to safety Housley also started to jump from the plane. But just before she made her escape, a passenger on the ground screamed, “My baby, my baby!” Flight attendant Mary Housley turned back into the plane to find the baby, and that was the last time anyone saw her alive. She died in the attempt to save the baby, and rescue workers found her charred body holding the four-month-old baby in her arms. The story of her courage made national headlines, including an item in Time magazine. One passenger called her a "real heroine." A congressman labeled her the bravest American in history. 

Today’s Gospel challenges Christians to serve others with Frankie’s dedication and sacrificial commitment.
The readings invite us to become great in the sight of God by doing God’s will, as Jesus did,  surrendering our lives in humble service of others.

The second reading is in tune with the dispute among the apostles about who is the greatest. James warns us that selfish ambitions destroy peace and cause conflicts and war. He advises us to choose the path of righteousness and humble service which leads to lasting peace. Jesus also teaches his apostles that child-like humility and loving, selfless service make one great in the eyes of God.
St Augustine wrote: “Observe a tree, how it first reaches downwards so that it may then shoot upwards. It sinks its roots deep into the ground so that its top may reach towards the skies.  Is it not from humility that it endeavors to grow? But without humility it will not reach higher.   You want to grow up into the air without roots.  That is not growth, but collapse.”

It is the ego, the false self, that looks for promotion; the real self, the self that comes every moment from the hand of God, doesn't need it or look for it. 
When Jesus and his apostles sit down to relax in Capernaum after a day of walking the hot, dusty roads of Galilee, he knows exactly what they have been talking about - success, glory, greatness.
But the apostles are too embarrassed to admit it; they suspect that their interest in worldly success is a too self-centered to be praiseworthy. But our Lord's response is surprising. He doesn't tell them that they shouldn’t desire to excel, to achieve, to do great things. He doesn't condemn that very normal impulse - because he knows that achieving things, making a difference in the world, is a basic need felt by every human heart. This is one of the purposes of our lives: being a sign of God's goodness by making a positive difference in the world. So Jesus doesn't scold them for wanting to do something great. Instead, he tells them what true greatness really is.

Greatness in Christ's Kingdom is equated with humility, an attitude of the heart that puts the good of others ahead of one's own preferences: it's self-giving, not self-getting. He doesn't say to his apostles, "Don't strive to achieve great things," but he does point out where true, lasting, fulfilling greatness lies - in loving one's neighbor as Christ has loved them. Jesus is the Servant-Lord; we, his faithful disciples, are called to follow in those demanding footsteps.
When Jesus said the paradox of the first becoming the last: he was standing conventional wisdom on its head. The truly great person is a diakonos -- a deacon; a servant; a person who spends his/her day taking loving care of other people.
Mother Teresa puts it like this: “Be the living expression of God's kindness through humble service. Show kindness in your face, kindness in your eyes, kindness in your smile and kindness in your warm greeting.”

The two conditions of true greatness are humility and loving service. Turning to Jesus who emptied himself taking the form of a servant, sacrificed his life for redemption of humanity, let’s ask for the grace to learn humility and humble service from him and lay down our life in the service of our brothers and sisters.