What Detachment is and how to gain it (Sunday homily)

 This homily is going to be all about one concept, one virtue.

That is something called “detachment.”

What do I mean by “detachment”?

I mean that freedom that comes from 

not being overly concerned with stuff, 

or with pleasure, or food, or success, 

or with the opinions of other people, or with having our own way.

Or with the way the world goes on around us.

In the second reading, St. James tells us: 

you have conflict because of your passions, because of greed and envy.

You want things too much, or in the wrong way.

Detachment is learning to dial down those passions and wants.

Detachment doesn’t mean we don’t care or that we are passive.

It means accepting our limits and finding peace.

In the Gospel, Jesus confronts the Apostles 

over their longing for importance, for being admired and respected.

He puts a child in front of them and says, 

learn how to slow down and pay attention to a child. 

That takes great patience and a certain lowliness.

Detachment means freedom. What you own, owns you.

What do we say when someone is married, has a family, 

and builds a business? That she is “tied down.” 

Detachment is being free of these things.

That freedom means the ability to say “yes” 

where otherwise the answer would be “no.”

“Yes” to others; “yes” to opportunities for ourselves. “Yes” to God.

This is a reason why young people are more likely 

to drop everything and go off on adventures and missions.

So much less to lose. They aren’t tied down yet.

Have you never gotten that faraway look, longing to be young at heart, 

Wishing you could have that carefree mindset once more?

So, how do we gain this virtue of detachment?

Well, there are several ways it happens.

One path is that of suffering. Pain. Crisis. Loss.

Many of us have been there: 

nothing can so narrow our sense of what truly matters, 

as when we are in trouble, or someone we love is.

Another path is that of voluntary self-denial and penance.

You and I do this for six weeks of Lent. 

That’s the reason we give up things like 

candy and beer and video games. 

So that we don’t love them too much.

But this isn’t just for Lent.

Every Friday is supposed to be a day of penance. 

For Christians, penance is a feature of everyday life.

That’s what our parents meant by “offer it up.”

And, parents, I know you live this, 

when you rarely get a hot meal or a full night’s sleep. 

Underneath all this is something else, and that is grace.

Grace is the help God gives us – in uncountable, constant ways – 

to help us grow in holiness, to help us become like him.

To become a saint, which is what God has planned for each of us.

Bishop Binzer told me something once I never forgot, 

and I have found to be good advice:

Be grateful for those people who cause you problems, 

because they are helping you get to heaven.

You and I never really know why the path for us is what it is,

but by God’s grace, you and I find grace on that path.

That grace helps us become free, 

so we can enjoy – but not be possessed by – 

the good things of this life.

That frees our hands to reach for that one Prize that matters:

Jesus Christ and the life he offers.