Homily: Monday, 22nd Week in Ordinary Time (Year A)

Readings: 1 Cor 2:1-5; Ps 119; Luke 4:16-30 

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Some people just don’t like to hear the truth. Just look at our Gospel passage from Luke.

Jesus visits his hometown of Nazareth, enters the synagogue, and reads the words of Isaiah. He then makes that amazing claim:

“Today this Scripture passage is fulfilled in your hearing” [Lk 4:21].

"The Spirit of the Lord is upon me..."

At first the townspeople looked at each other in amazement, overcome by wonder and pride. Jesus, the young carpenter, the son of Joseph, is one of their own. He grew up and played with their children, went to synagogue with them. But how is it He speaks with such wisdom, such authority?

Nazareth was a small, quiet village, a place where nothing much ever happened, a village on the road to more exciting places. But on this day, the people heard Isaiah – the Word of their Fathers – claimed to be fulfilled right there.

Isn’t this the son of Joseph?

They’d heard of the miracles in Capernaum, the healings, and the crowds and probably hoped He’d do the same in Nazareth – perhaps much more. But they kept thinking: Isn’t this the son of Joseph?

If He’s a prophet, a miracle-maker, shouldn’t His own people be the first to benefit? After all, we’re his people! His family! His friends! God knows there are plenty of sick people here. How about some healings, a miracle or two? Then we’d know God is with him, with Him right here in Nazareth.

But what does Jesus do?

No miracles. Instead, He speaks of Elijah and the famine that spread throughout the country in those ancient days. Although the Chosen People were starving, God sent Elijah to a pagan widow of Zarephath, and it was she and her son whom Elijah miraculously fed.

And no healings. Instead, Jesus speaks of Elisha and the leper God sent him to heal, a pagan from Syria — this when Israel, too, had many lepers.

The people of Nazareth were in that synagogue to see and hear Jesus, this son of Joseph, who had done wondrous things. They hoped to be amazed by His words and to marvel at His mighty deeds. Yes, they wanted the hometown boy to be a prophet who’d bring them signs of God’s favor, one to do their bidding, not God’s.

But instead, Jesus told them stories of God’s grace poured out not on Jews, not on friends and neighbors, but on Gentiles, aliens and unbelievers. 

"...they were filled with fury."

Infuriated, they rose up, drove Him to the brow of a steep hill, hoping to hurl Him off the cliff. No, Jesus wasn’t their kind of Messiah.

Today you and I meet these Nazoreans across a vast gulf of time, traditions, language, and experience… and although these differences are great, perhaps we’re more like them than we know.

We ask for forgiveness when we fail to do God’s bidding, but then demand that he do ours.

We want a just and merciful God, as long as we’re the ones who benefit from his justice and mercy.

A truly omnipotent and omniscient God can be more than a little scary. Much nicer to have our God who conforms to our vision of what God should do.

So many, today, just like the people of Nazareth, want a God they can tame.

For on that day Jesus reminded his friends and neighbors that God’s ways are not our ways. God’s grace cannot be constrained by our boundaries or controlled by our prayers.

When Jesus spoke in the synagogue, he gave notice that his ministry would embrace the stranger and include the outsider. Indeed, He will embrace the sinner, those we’re so sure don’t deserve God’s forgiveness.

It’s a message both confrontational and comforting; a teaching both sharp and hard, and often so difficult to accept, or even hear. This is why so many today find Jesus and His Church unacceptable.

I remember walking with thousands of others on a “walk for life” in Boston many years ago. It was a peaceful event. And as we walked down Commonwealth Avenue in support of the unborn, the silence was broken only by the prayers and hymns of the participants…until we reached one corner. There a small group of protesters confronted us and fouled the air, screaming obscenities and blasphemies aimed at Jesus Christ and His Church.

You see, brothers and sisters, Jesus’ Word can be hard, and those who can’t accept and embrace it may find themselves filled with fury and standing on the brow of a hill ready to hurl Him, His message, and His Church headlong off the cliff.

Jesus didn’t go elsewhere because he was rejected; he was rejected because he intended to go elsewhere. That elsewhere beckons us, too; or at least it should, for we too are called. We have heard God’s Word. It has been fulfilled in our hearing. We are called to travel on hard paths, and to take up our cross, carrying it with us as we go.

How did Paul put it?

“For I resolved to know nothing while I was with you except Jesus Christ, and him crucified” [2 Cor 2:2]

This is our God – our crucified and risen Lord, the God who lives, still bearing the wounds of His love.

This is our God, not a God to be tamed or controlled, but a God to be loved, a God who demands our complete trust.

This is our Christian calling, to abandon ourselves in trust, to abandon ourselves into His hands, allowing His will and not ours to be done in our lives.

To the world it appears as weakness; but believe me, it can be the hardest thing you will ever do.

The question is: Are you and I willing to do it?

Homily: Funeral of Deacon Richard Radford

On Wednesday, June 19, 2019, Bishop John Noonan of the Diocese of Orlando visited our parish to celebrate the Funeral Mass of one of our deacons, Deacon Richard Radford. Dick Radford was a friend, an older, wiser brother, a partner in prayer, and a wonderful man who taught me much during the dozen years we'd known each other. His family and his brother deacons will miss him greatly, but take comfort that we can now call on him to intercede for us at the throne of our loving God.

I was asked to preach the homily at Dick's Funeral Mass. This was no easy thing and my love for this man often rose to the surface as I preached. Oh, and Dick's little grandson -- whose name is Deacon -- approached me several times during the homily. What a delightful child! Indeed, he reminds me of his grandfather.

A have embedded a video of the homily below. The complete text follows.

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Readings: Dan 12:1-3; Rom 5:17-21; Jn 6:37-40
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Bishop Noonan, on behalf of Lynne and the Radford family, I thank you for being here today to celebrate this funeral mass for one of our own, for our beloved Deacon Richard.

And Lynne, I know that Bishop Noonan, Fathers Peter and John, and all my brother deacons join me in extending our deepest condolences to you, to Richard and Amy, to Nora and to little Deacon. We know how hard this has been for you all, and we know, too, that words are never enough.

Indeed, my words here today will soon be forgotten, but not God's Word; it remains. It remains to nourish us, and to give us hope. And so let me extend something far better than my mere words. Let me extend God's peace and God's love.

I can only imagine how much you miss Dick, but if you let Him, God will fill this empty spot in the very heart of your family. He will fill it with His grace, bringing with it His peace and His enduring love. I, too, am in need of it today, for I loved Richard like a brother...a big brother.

I remember the first time I met Dick -- 12 or 13 years ago. He approached me after Mass, and said something to the effect: "Hey, can you use another deacon around here?"

Lynne & Dick Radford - Parish Picnic 2012

At the time our deacon population at St. Vincent de Paul was expanding rapidly, but when I caught that Boston accent, I thought, well, we already have three of us from Massachusetts...why not another? So I just said, "Richard, if you can convince the diocese, I'm sure the pastor and the parish will welcome you with open arms."

It didn't take me long to realize we now had a true Renaissance man in our midst.

Yes, Richard seemed to have done it all. He was an Army veteran, he'd earned a doctorate in education, was a poet, a published author, a revered teacher, a man who'd worked as an interpreter and translator of French, German... and presumably Bostonian.

But these were just small pieces of Dick's life, for it was his through his diaconate, his servanthood, that Deacon Richard truly fulfilled God's calling for him. And this was the Deacon Richard, the servant of God, that I came to know a dozen years ago. 

For more than 20 years he had done God's work in the Boston Archdiocese, and what remarkable work it had been. He'd managed a halfway house for men released from prison. He ran shelters for the homeless, for street people and for women and children. He was a Licensed Social Worker, an addictions counselor, and a chaplain at a women's prison.

He knew that the power of God's grace would overwhelm the sinfulness that surrounds us in this world. As St. Paul reminded us in our second reading:

"...where sin increased, grace overflowed all the more" [Rom 5:20].

Yes, the Holy Spirit worked through Deacon Richard, showering His grace on those in need. And through it all - thanks also to St. Lynne here - Dick maintained the balance we all seek, as a loving husband, father, and grandfather. But, remarkably, Dick rarely alluded to all that he had done. I had to learn about it over time from others.

Yes, he was a man of virtue, but virtue grounded in deep humility. How did the prophet put it in today's first reading from Daniel?

"And those who lead the many to justice shall be like the stars forever" [Dan 12:3].

Yes, indeed, Richard's star shone brightly, but in his humility he knew that his starlight was just a reflection of Our Lord who said:

"I am the Light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life" [Jn 8:12].

What a wonderful promise! And when you talked with Richard, when you prayed with him, that "light of life" just shone from his face.

The Gospel, the Good News, is filled with promises, and because they all come from the eternal Word of God, from our Lord Jesus Christ, we know with absolute certainty they will be fulfilled. Just consider today's passage from John's Gospel:

"This is the will of my Father, that everyone who sees the Son and believes in Him may have eternal life, and I shall raise Him on the last day" [Jn 6:40].

Here, through Jesus, we receive a promise that reflects the will of our heavenly Father.

But what does it mean to see the Son and believe in Him?

Just think about it. Did Deacon Richard experience the presence of Jesus Christ? Of course he did. 

He heard the Son, the revealed Word of God, whenever Sacred Scripture was proclaimed, and he believed.

And Richard saw and encountered the Son in the Eucharist, that wondrous gift through which Jesus Christ makes Himself present to the Church until the end of time. 

But Richard also encountered Our Lord, he saw and believed, in another, most remarkable way. For when Richard was ordained 31 years ago, he and heard these words from his bishop:

"Receive the Gospel of Christ, whose herald you now are. Believe what you read, teach what you believe, and practice what you teach."

And, oh, did Richard practice, as he encountered Jesus again and again in all those he helped throughout his life. Recall Jesus' words in Matthew 25? 

"...whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me" [Mt 25:40].

Yes, you and I and Deacon Richard, we encounter Jesus every day. We see Him in those who come to us in need, in those who come to us for healing. And through his ministry this good deacon brought God's healing power into the world. 

So many in need of healing experienced God's touch during our healing services at which Deacon Richard played such a conspicuous role. I cannot count how many people have approached me in recent months, concerned about Deacon Richard's health, and said to me, "It is through Deacon Richard, through his prayer, that I was healed." I'm sure many of these are in this church today.

Dick, a minister of the Holy Spirit's healing power, a prayerful charismatic, took St. Paul's invitation - "Pray without ceasing" [1 Thes 5:17] - literally. 

He and I often spoke of prayer and he taught me much about opening every aspect of my life to the working of the Holy Spirit. And for this, I will always be grateful.

Of course, this leads me to one aspect of Dick's life that I've neglected; and that is golf - perhaps because I'm one of the few in The Villages who doesn't play. But after 15 years here, and with Dick's help, I've come to appreciate, from a spectator's perspective, the theology of golf. 

I am convinced that golf added years to Dick's life. He enjoyed it so much, I think God rewarded him by letting him play, despite his illnesses and failing health, until almost the last days of his life.

You see, following St. Paul's advice -- "...whatever you do, do everything for the glory of God" [1 Cor 10:31] -- Dick gave God an awful lot of glory through his amazing golf game.

As one of his golf buddies said to me, "Playing with Dick was a spiritual experience. He was so good I spent most the round praying." And how did John put it in the Book of Revelation?

"He will rule them with an iron rod" [Rev 2:27]. 

Yes, indeed.

But we should realize, too, that this funeral Mass is less a celebration of Dick's life as it is an act of worship, but Eucharistic worship in the form of thanksgiving.

This is truly a time of thanksgiving, when we turn to our loving and merciful God and thank Him for the gift of Deacon Richard's unique, unrepeatable life, a life we were blessed not only to witness, but also to share.

But even more important, as Christians, whenever we gather at Mass, at the Eucharistic table, we thank our God for the gift of His Son, Who gave His life for us. For without that gift, we would have no hope: no hope of forgiveness, no hope of mercy, no hope of salvation, no hope of eternal life.

It's because of this gift that we can gather here today and not be consumed by grief.

Because of this gift we don't despair.

Because of this gift can go on...We can continue with our own lives knowing that Richard, and you, and I - that we've all been redeemed by our Lord, Jesus Christ.

Dick's was a life well lived. He savored that life, that gift, and accepted its challenges and joys, and, yes, he also accepted the pain and suffering that accompanied many years of illness.

And so today we ask our Lord Jesus to take Deacon Richard, his "good and faithful servant," into His loving embrace, to take away the pain, to wipe away the tears, and give him the first taste of that eternal joy we all hope to share.

Phyllis Schlafly, R.I.P.

Yesterday we lost a great American, a woman who did more for the resurgence of conservative thought in late 20th-century America than any other. Phyllis Schlafly died in her St. Louis home at the age of 92, but she kept on working and influencing this nation up to the very end. Some of you might remember her appearance at this year's Republican National Convention in Cleveland. Despite her obvious weakness and frailty, she was determined to be present at what turned out to be her final public appearance.  

I met Mrs. Schlafly only once. When we lived on Cape Cod, every January Diane and I would join our pastor, Fr. Gerry Shovelton, and others from our parish and go to Washington, D.C. for the annual March for Life. And every October we would make the much shorter trip to Boston for Respect Life Sunday. This latter event included a gathering with speeches and entertainment on the Boston Common followed by a walk of several miles through the streets of the city. It was at this gathering in October 2001 that Diane and I met Phyllis Schlafly. She kindly posed for this photo during our meeting.

An attorney, more accurately, a constitutional lawyer, she was a woman of uncompromising beliefs who nevertheless expressed those beliefs with charity and understanding toward those who disagreed with her. I believe it was this attitude, driven by love, that made her such a successful champion of the causes that were important to her. She would simply and clearly explain the facts relevant to a particular issue and do so without rancor or accusation, and then wait for your response. She always had the truth on her side, so it was extremely difficult to disagree with her and not look foolish. A woman of great faith, she was also one of our nation's most passionate defenders of the unborn, and through her writings will continue to change minds and hearts for years to come.

When I think of Phyllis Schlafly I place her on the same stage with such truth-seeking and truth-speaking conservatives as Russell Kirk and William F. Buckley and Ronald Reagan. A firm believer in conservative principle and "the permanent things," she certainly had as much impact on conservative thought over the past 50 years as did these luminaries.

She is perhaps best known for her almost single-handed defeat of the so-called Equal Rights Amendment (ERA) after it had passed overwhelmingly with strong bi-partisan support in both houses of Congress. Mrs. Schlafly convinced enough Americans, mostly woman, that the ERA would actually remove many of the protections women had in our society and add very little benefit. I've included below a brief video of her appearance on William F. Buckley's Firing Line to discuss ERA.

She was a prolific author and, indeed, continued writing even in her infirmity. Her most recent book (She is one of three co-authors.), the most timely of all and already a pre-release bestseller, is The Conservative Case for Trump. Coincidentally, I was lent an early released copy of the book just a week ago and read it over the holiday weekend. Like everything she has written it is persuasive and thought-provoking. It deserves wide readership. I believe it was officially released for sale today.

We will miss the wonderful words of Phyllis Schlafly, but mostly we will miss her.


May almighty God bless her; may His face shine upon her and be gracious to her; may He look upon her with kindness and give her peace.

And may she rest eternally in the loving embrace of the God she served so well.