Are you a person who wants God to be merciful toward sinners, or enforce justice on those who oppose him?

I’m going to hazard a guess that for most of us, the most honest answer is… it depends.

If we are talking about your brother who hasn’t attended Mass in 47 years or your best friend who now claims to be agnostic, you are putting all your chips on “merciful.”

But if we are talking about that ex who deserves what is coming to her, or the young man who hurt your daughter, mercy isn’t even a consideration.

Let me tell you a fictional tale…

It’s Friday night and a married couple are settling in on the couch to watch a movie. She popped popcorn for herself. He grabbed a package of Oreo cookies (his favorite).

Just then, their oldest daughter get home from band practice and sees the Oreos (her favorite, too). “Dad?” She gives him her best puppy eyes, “Ya wanna share those Oreos with me?”

According to my desk calendar, September 10th is Grandparents Day—so to all you grandparents, enjoy your day!

I was recently watching a miniseries on “Blue Zones” (populations with the highest concentrations of people living longer lives) when I heard a pretty brutal fable told in Okinawa (one of the zones). In this fable, when elderly became too much of a burden, their sons would lead them to the top of a high cliff and push them off. One son would not do it after leading him to the precipice, and hid his father instead. Over the following years, the man grew wealthy and successful. No one knew it was a result of the wisdom and counsel he was receiving from his (still very much alive) father!

How important is your relationship with the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit? How vital do you consider your interaction with His Church? Do you prioritize God above everything else, holding nothing back?

This Sunday’s readings reveal how strongly we should be answering these questions.

The first reading tells of a prophet’s struggle. How he places God above all other things and cannot keep his mouth shut when it comes to his faith.

We should start with a simple question: how do you determine whether or not a particular medicine is effective?

If you have the occasional headache and taking half an aspirin once a month doesn’t seem to help, is it the aspirin’s fault?

Or you decide to down the whole bottle with a pint of Jack Daniels and you end up in the hospital, are you there because the aspirin doesn’t work?

Of course not.

Only long-time readers of this column know that I have commuted 67 miles (round trip) to work at Our Lady of Joy for the last 7+ years. In fact, the day I drove north for my job interview, I almost turned around somewhere near Pinnacle Peak Road. (I only kept driving because I am morally opposed to no-showing an interview.)

I arrived to find a beautiful setting, a holy pastor, and a committed staff. These factors—along with fulfilling work and some of the most amazing parishioners in the world—have kept me here ever since.

This week, our Gospel speaks of Jesus walking on water. It is another example of Jesus proclaiming his divinity.

Some might say, he was merely walking along the shore or on a sandbank. Those people are either ignorant of scripture or geography. Scripture tells us they were 3 or 4 miles from shore. In this part of that sea… that’s the middle. And at its center, the Sea of Galilee is over 140 feet deep.

Jesus said, “I AM,” while walking on water. He wasn’t saying, “I AM a good guy.”

This weekend, the Catholic Church focuses on the Transfiguration of the Lord. Jesus takes Peter, James, and John up a mountain and something pretty cool happens.

“He was transfigured before them; his face shone like the sun and his clothes became white as light. And behold, Moses and Elijah appeared to them, conversing with him.”

Let’s get of the beaten path this week and take a stroll through the Psalm that was sung between the first and second readings.

“Lord, I love your commands,” is the line you’ll hear repeated. And it’s a pretty powerful on when you spend more than ten seconds pondering it.

Put yourself in the military (or for some of you—back in the military—thank you for your service). “I love your commands!” If you said this and meant it in the heat of battle, it would be a big step beyond merely following your training and obeying the chain of command. You would have to have found your commanding officer to be full of wisdom.

This week, our Gospel contains quite a few more parables. We get Jesus’ comparing the kingdom of God to a tny mustard seed that turns into a big “tree” - which, truth be told - looks like an unruly shrub that grows to ten feet before spreading horizontally.

Have you ever asked yourself why? Dr. Brant Pitre proposes it might be because it only takes a little faith to be welcomed into one’s heart and nurtured for it to take root. Then, in often messy ways, it grows and spreads all over the place.

And I propose one of the key words there is “messy.”

You’ve heard this Sunday’s Gospel before, but have you paid attention?

In the parable, we meet the worst gardener in the whole wide world. He’s throwing seeds on the path. He’s tossing seeds into the rocks. He’s sprinkling seeds into the thornbushes. And it is almost as if he gets lucky and hits a patch of fertile super-soil.

Then, he says the most curious thing of all: “Whoever has ears ought to hear.”

I’ve been feeling a bit tired lately.

No. That isn’t entrely true. I’ve been what my rural family used to call “bone tired.”

I think it’s a combinaton of a few factors. I haven’t had a true vacation in eighteen months or so because all my vacation days were used up by back surgeries and subsequent recoveries. Layer over the top of it that my body is still dealing with the after-effects of the past year (including the rehab process.) Finally, add to all that my eagerness to make up for lost time contributing to family chores and projects.

Wake up. Get ready for work. Go to work (and if you are retired, you’ve replaced work with hobbies and commitments). Go home. Eat dinner. Get ready for bed. Sleep. Do it again four more times. Do chores and go to Mass on the weekend. Repeat 52 times a year.

In this world full of repetition, it is easy to feel as though we were made for more. And guess what? This weekend’s Gospel reading reminds us that we were!

Jesus is speaking to his closest followers—which is what we are called to be. He begins with priorities. He must come first. And this sounds like common sense until we remember this includes our families.