Homily: Saturday, 6th Week of Easter

Readings: Acts 18:23-28; Ps 47; John 16:23b-28

___________________________

Back in my other life, in my consulting days, I was often asked to talk to industrial salespeople and sales managers. One thing I tried to instill in them was the need to focus on both the roadwork and the homework. On homework, I meant becoming true experts on their products and services, and equally important, learning everything they can about their customers. Only then will their roadwork bring dividends.

We see a little of that in our reading from Acts. Apollos, an evangelist from Alexandria, was an eloquent preacher but he was lacking in knowledge of the Christian faith. So, the married team of Priscilla and Aquila took him aside and spent some time teaching Him so he could proclaim the truth of the Gospel confidently. It’s a beautiful example of believers helping, supporting, and encouraging each other in the faith, helping one another to grow in the Lord.

As I thought about today's readings, I recalled a few of my own experiences teaching others, both successful and not so successful. 

About 20 years ago, shortly before we moved to Florida, I was asked to give a brief reflection to an ecumenical group in our Cape Cod town. It was during the Lenten season and the pastors of all the Christian churches thought it would be good to have a series of prayer meetings, open to anyone who cared to attend.

Anyway, my pastor volunteered me to represent our parish, and the Congregational minister who had organized everything, asked me to preach at the first of these weekly meetings. The topic he gave me was prayer...so, there I was preaching to a couple of hundred folks, mostly Protestants, from a half-dozen denominations.

At one point early in my talk, I asked the participants, “To whom do you pray?” Almost unanimously, they answered, “Jesus!” I had expected this, and I told them that praying to Our Lord Jesus Christ was certainly a good thing.

But then I went to the Gospel, and read a number of different passages where Jesus instructs His disciples on prayer. Of course, the most famous is the Lords’ Prayer, or as we Catholics often call it, The Our Father, echoing its first words:

“Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name…” [Mt 6:9]

I then turned to John’s Gospel and read the Word from today’s passage:

“Amen, amen, I say to you, whatever you ask the Father in my name he will give you” [Jn 16:23].

I followed this with another half-dozen passages from the Gospels and St. Paul’s letters, teaching us to pray to the Father, always in Jesus’ Name, and guided by the Holy Spirit.

All too often, though, we think we know what’s best for us, and so that’s what we pray for, as if we need to instruct God on what’s best for us. As St. Paul wrote, encouraging the Christians of Rome:

“…the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know how to pray as we ought, but the Spirit Himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words.” [Rom 8:26].

I’ve always loved that explanation of Paul's. In effect the Holy Spirit is telling us, "You try, but you really don’t know what to pray for, or how to pray, so I’ll just handle it all for you, interceding for you with the Farther…but you must try. Go ahead and pray, perhaps repeating those words of Jesus, 'Thy will be done,' and I’ll fill in the blanks with my inexpressible groanings." Or as St. Paul said to the Ephesians, more succinctly, just “pray at all times in the Spirit” [Eph 6:18].

So, what does today’s Gospel passage, and the New Testament in general, teach us about prayer? Well, among other things, we learn that prayer should be Trinitarian: to the Father, in the Son’s Name, and through the workings of the Holy Spirit. We need only listen to the Eucharistic prayer at every Mass, a prayer addressed to the Father, through the Son – yes, “through Him, with Him, and in Him – and in the unity of the Holy Spirit.” Our prayer, then, has the pattern of the Trinity stamped on it.

As I said to that mixed congregation on Cape Cod, “Pray to Jesus if you like, but remember that any prayer to Jesus will always unite us with the Father through the love and power of the Holy Spirit.” Paul, once again, put it so much better:

“…you received a spirit of adoption, through which we cry, “Abba, Father!” The Spirit itself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God…” [Rom 8:15-16]

Yes, indeed, we are children of the Father…and how good is that!

 

Homily: Saturday, 4th Week of Easter

The following is a homily I preached a week ago, but simply forgot to post.

Readings: Acts 13:44-52; Ps 98; Jn 14:7-14

-----------------------------

“Believe me," Jesus says.

Back in my Navy days, I sat through many, many briefings, and most were eminently forgettable. But I recall one intelligence briefing vividly. We were aboard an aircraft carrier during the Vietnam conflict, and after the intelligence officer briefed us on enemy missile emplacements, the admiral asked a question about the confidence level of the intelligence. Well, the young intelligence officer mistakenly answered the admiral’s question with a simple, “Believe me, Admiral.” I won’t tell you how the admiral responded. In one sense, though, he was like the apostle Philip in today’s Gospel passage from John.

“Believe me…” Jesus said to Philip, the apostle, and, of course, He says the same to each of us: “Believe me.”

Believe everything I have told you, everything you have witnessed. Believe, not only that the Father has sent me, but also that the Father and I are one.

Indeed, this call to believe, this call to faith, is a recurring theme in John’s Gospel. Toward the end of his Gospel, John makes this clear when he writes:

“But these are written that you may come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through this belief you may have life in his name” [Jn 20:31].

In other words, our faith in Jesus is the foundation; and everything else, including eternal life itself, derives from it. Our faith, therefore, must be a living faith, one that carries God’s love into the world; otherwise, our faith is sterile, like an artifact or trophy displayed on a shelf – interesting but essentially useless.

But Jesus knows that for many of us childlike faith is beyond us, that in our adult sophistication, belief is cast aside, overpowered by the things of this world. Like the Admiral, the apostles needed and looked for proof. And well aware of their still weak faith, Jesus tells Philip and the others:

“Believe me that I am in the Father and the Father is in me, or else, believe because of the works themselves” [Jn 14:11].

Yes, even the apostles still doubted, didn’t they? Even the apostles, who’d listened to Him and seen all those miracles, those signs, John calls them – those signs of divinity -- even the apostles needed to be reminded they’d already seen the proof. Jesus then told them something truly remarkable:

“Amen, amen, I say to you, whoever believes in me will do the works that I do, and will do greater ones than these, because I am going to the Father” [Jn 14:12].

Your belief, He told the apostles, will manifest itself to the world, and will do so through your works. In effect, Jesus told them that what He had done as He ministered throughout Galilee, Samaria, and Judea will lead to even greater works. His work on earth was just the beginning of something much greater, and these words of His are aimed far beyond the apostles.

Jesus only occasionally interacted with Gentiles, but in today’s reading from Acts, Paul and Barnabas begin the Church’s active ministry to the Gentiles. The immediate result? Luke tells us:

“All who were destined for eternal life came to believe, and the word of the Lord continued to spread through the whole region” [Acts 13:48-49]. 

Greater works, indeed. It was a ministry that led to the conversion of much of the Roman Empire. And because it was God’s work, not simply that of Paul, Barnabas, and those who followed them, it turned apparent failure into success. It overcame all the human obstacles placed in its path: jealousy, hatred, pride, anger, despair, fear, and disbelief.

Jesus, in His risen Body, the Church, continues this great work today through all who believe, though His One, Holy, Catholic, and Apostolic, Church. And that, brothers and sisters, means you and me. We, too, have some greater work to do, work Jesus has placed in our hands.

But what have you and I actually done? Are we willing to turn away from the self and turn to others in dire need, to those who are ill, to the hungry, the despairing, the lost, the forgotten? Are we willing to suffer for proclaiming Jesus’ message of life and love to a world steeped in hatred and immersed in a culture of death?

Yes, God’s work always comes complete with a cross, but a cross that Jesus carries with us. And through the help of the Holy Spirit you and I can also believe the promise of Jesus:

“And whatever you ask in my name, I will do, so that the Father may be glorified in the Son. If you ask anything of me in my name, I will do it" [Jn 14:14].

So let’s get to it!

Homily: Solemnity of the Holy Trinity (Year C)

I have added a video of this homily below. The text follows.

Readings: Prv 8:22-31; Ps 8; Rom 5:1-5; Jn 16:12-15 
----------------------------------------
22 years ago I was ordained a deacon on the Saturday before Trinity Sunday, and that happens to be today. 

During our little celebration following the ordination, my pastor said, "You know, deacon, since you and I minister at Holy Trinity Parish, I think you should preach at the 9 o'clock Mass tomorrow. After all it's Trinity Sunday."

I was actually hoping for maybe a few days to prepare my first homily, but no, it would be the very next morning. Actually, I think it was a pretty good homily, and I wish I'd saved a copy so I could use it again today. But it's gone and I can't recall a word of it. Sadly, I suspect this homily won't be nearly as good.

Yes, indeed, today is Trinity Sunday, or as it's officially called, "The Solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity." It's the day we celebrate what must be considered the key tenet of our faith as Christians: the Trinity

Interestingly, though, the word, Trinity, cannot be found anywhere in Sacred Scripture. But the Bible, both the Old and New Testaments, points to the Trinity on many different occasions.

The Trinity is perhaps most evident in the very last words of Matthew's Gospel when the risen Jesus gives His great commission to the disciples:

"Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you" [Mt 28:19-20].

We encounter the Trinity, too, in those opening verses of Genesis:

"In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth...and the Spirit of God was moving..." [Gn 1:1-2].

...and the opening words of John's Gospel:

"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God" [Jn 1:1].

Yes, Father, Son, and Spirit present from eternity.

The Trinity at Creation

We encounter another example in today's Gospel passage from John [Jn 16:12-13], where Jesus speaks of Himself, the Holy Spirit, and the Father as three distinct Persons. And so It's here and elsewhere that we find the Trinity embedded in Scripture: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit - Creator, Savior, and Sanctifier.

You and I call on the Trinity whenever we make the Sign of the Cross and lift up our prayer in the name of this Blessed Trinity. And yet how many of us really understand this divine relationship, this dogma that in one God there are three divine persons? 

St. Augustine

Over 1,500 years ago St. Augustine answered this question with one of his own: 

"Who can understand the Trinity? ...Who, when they speak of it, also know of what they speak?"

The answer, of course, is: nobody. For the Trinity is perhaps the mystery of mysteries. And yet, we strive to understand at least something of this divine relationship as it's been revealed to us. But we have to be careful. Our theology can sometimes blind us to the simpler truths that God reveals. Let me give you an example.

I'm sure you all remember the scene in which Jesus asks the disciples [Mt 16:13-16]:

"Who do people say that the Son of Man is?"

They replied, "Some say John the Baptist, others Elijah, still others Jeremiah or one of the prophets."

He said to them, "But who do you say that I am?"

Now just image Simon Peter, speaking as a modern theologian and responding like this:

"You are the Logos, one of three co-eternal, consubstantial divine persons, the hypostases of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Although the three are distinct, you are one substance, essence, and nature, always distinct and yet working inseparably, and interpenetrating each other and causing no division."

And hearing that, Jesus might well have said, "What?"

Jesus and Peter at Caesarea Philippi

You see, sometimes our theology can get in the way of our faith. In truth Simon Peter replied with these glorious words:

"Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God."

And like Peter, you and I hear those words, and in faith, we understand. Like Peter we know that Jesus is a distinct person and we believe, too, what Jesus reveals about His relationship with Father and the Holy Spirit. It's a relationship in which neither Father, nor Son, nor Holy Spirit exists in separation or acts in isolation. The Three are always as One.

This, brothers and sisters, is enough for me.

You see, if we really want to define the Trinity, we can define it with one four-letter word. The Trinity is Love. In the Trinity we see the same kind of love that God demands of us; for we are called to love God and love each other.

Our personal experiences of love, the deep love between husband and wife, the love of strong, long-held friendships, the sacrificial love of a mother for her child - all of these give us a glimpse, if only a glimpse, into the love that is the Trinity.

That's right, echoing St. John we proclaim that "God is Love" [1 Jn 4:8], the Trinity is Love. In loving one another we can experience the delight and beauty of close human relationships, of being there for each other. This is something enriching and satisfying - indeed, mutually life-giving!

If the very essence of the Trinity is constant, enduring love, then the mother of a newborn infant must grasp something of the doctrine of the Trinity as she lies awake in a darkened room and listens to the sound of her baby's breathing. Yes, the love of the Trinity is a vigilant love.

If the essence of the Trinity is ever-giving love, then the care-giving spouse of an Alzheimer's patient or the parent of a special needs child experiences the fury with which God protects, nurtures, and holds the most vulnerable close to His heart.  

Yes, our intellectual, theological descriptions of the Holy Trinity so often fail to convey the true nature of the love that flows from the very inner life of God.

About 25 or 30 years ago I was waiting to board a plane at Dulles International Airport outside Washington. This was back in the day when family and friends could actually meet you at the gate. Remember those days?

Anyway, as I waited, an El Al flight from Tel Aviv landed and the passengers began to file into the terminal. One young man, in his thirties and wearing a yarmulke, stepped from the jet-way and looked anxiously around the waiting room.

Just then a small boy broke away from his mother, ran to the man and jumped into his arms, all the while shouting, "Abba! Abba!" The love on the man's face was something very special indeed.

If our souls call out to the Father, "Abba! Abba!" --"Daddy! Daddy!" -- can you imagine the look of delight on the face of God? Would that we could see it! But this demonstration of love and all other expressions of human love are mere shadows of God's enduring love. 

Yes, the Trinity exists in a communion of love. And as the Trinity reaches outside itself into our world, a world that it created and sustains, there's a divine collaboration among the Three.

The Father loved us so much as to give us his Only Begotten Son. Through this love, the Son gave up his life for our sake. And through the Holy Spirit we can accept within us and extend to others the same love with which God loves us.  It's through the Spirit that we are enabled to mirror God's love on earth, to love each other as we are loved.

And so we pray in the liturgy to our Heavenly Father, "through our Lord Jesus Christ, Your Son, who lives and reigns with You in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, forever and ever."

Homily: Feast of Sts. Philip and James, Apostles (May 3)

Readings:  1 Cor 15:1-8; Psalm 19; Jn 14:6-14
-------------------------
As He began His ministry, Jesus chose apostles, including James and Philip whom we honor today.

We really know little about these two men, other than the fact that they were both apostles. We know almost nothing about James, son of Alphaeus. Most scholars believe he's the James of Acts who became Bishop of Jerusalem and is the traditional author of the Letter of James. And so he's often called "James the Lesser" to avoid confusing him with James, the son of Zebedee, John's brother, also an apostle and known as "James the Greater."

We know a bit more about Philip, and according to John's Gospel, he came from Bethsaida, as did Peter and his brother, Andrew. He might well have been their friend and business partner. 

"Come and see..."

Based on the few Gospel references to Philip, he seemed to be of a pragmatic, businesslike bent. For example, he didn't waste words when his friend, Nathaniel, doubted Jesus' credentials. Philip simply said, "Come and see" [Jn 1:46], and Nathaniel did just that.

And before Jesus, multiplied the loaves and fishes, He asked Philip how they should feed the crowd. Philip, the businessman, calculated what it would cost and concluded it simply couldn't be done. John then added: 

"Jesus said this to test him, because He himself knew what He was going to do" [Jn 6:6].

John really wasn't criticizing Philip. He was just reminding us that these men, who would go on to lead the Church, must accept both our total helplessness apart from God and the call to be bearers of divine power by God's gift [2 Pt 1:3-10]. 

Like his fellow apostles, Philip took a long time to realize who Jesus was. Consider today's Gospel passage. After Thomas admitted they didn't know where Jesus was going, Jesus said, 

"I am the way...If you know Me, then you will also know My Father. From now on you do know Him and have seen Him" [Jn 14:6-7].

Confused, Philip chimed in with, 

"Master, show us the Father, and that will be enough for us" [Jn 14:8]

And we can hear the exasperation in Jesus' words: 

"Have I been with you for so long a time and you still do not know me, Philip? Whoever has seen me has seen the Father" [Jn 14:9]

Again in John's gospel, Philip was the first to whom Jesus said, "Follow me!" [Jn 1:43]  How very appropriate that seems.

But is Philip really very different from you and me? He puts into words the deepest and most universal human aspiration: to see God.

"Master, show us the Father..." [Jn 14:8]

Centuries before, when Moses said, "Show me your glory, I beg you" [Ex 33:18], how did God reply? 

"I will let all my splendor pass in front of you...but you cannot see my face...I will... shield you with my hand while I pass by. Then I will take my hand away and you shall see the back of me; but my face is not to be seen." [Ex 33:19-23]

Yes, God would remain hidden, but only for a time. With the Incarnation, everything changed. "The Word became flesh" [Jn 1:14] and God is with us, sharing our human nature. And so Jesus can say to Philip: "Whoever sees me sees the Father" [Jn 14:9].

Brothers and sisters, Jesus is the face of God turned to us. We see God in him, to the very limit of our seeing [2 Cor 3:18]. 

It really means little that the lives of these men are so obscure, for it's not their personalities and backgrounds that are important. Jesus didn't look to the elite of His day when He chose His Apostles. None were particularly holy. And they certainly weren't great leaders or intellectuals. No, Jesus called this obscure group of regular guys, men with jobs, homes, and families. But when they responded, the Spirit began to conform them to the image of the One they served. And their lives would never be the same. 

It's not what they were, but what God made of them, what He did through them, that matters. Chosen by Jesus, these witnesses to His Resurrection became the foundation of His Church.

And let us never forget that Jesus told His apostles: 

"He who hears you, hears Me. He who rejects you, rejects Me" [Lk 10:16].

With these words Jesus reminds us to pay close attention to the Apostles' teaching, a teaching that continues in the Catholic Church through their successors, the Pope and our bishops.

To refuse to listen to the Church is to refuse to listen to Jesus. To reject the Church is to reject Jesus Himself.

This is the danger of the "cafeteria Catholicism" so common today. We must not pick and choose, forming our own convenient opinions regarding the tenets of our faith or the moral issues on which the Church has spoken definitively.

And as baptized believers, we share in the Apostles' calling. We, too, are commissioned to bring the light of the gospel into the world. We, too, have been "sent forth."

Like Philip and James. We have encountered the risen Christ in our lives, and are sent as witnesses to testify to the transforming power of God's love.

What God did for them and their brothers, He will do for us if only we respond in faith.

Homily - Video

The parish has been perfecting our audio-visual capability to make acceptable videos of homilies preached by our priests. These are then posted on the parish website. 

We deacons aren't asked to preach too often, but the technical folks made a video of the homily I preached at Mass yesterday morning. The readings were for Saturday of the 20th Week of Ordinary Time. You can read the homily on yesterday's post, but I thought you might want to see and hear it as well, so I have included the video below. 

In the video, the homily is preceded by the Gospel Acclamation (Alleluia) and the proclamation of the Gospel (Mt 23:1-12).

Homily: Saturday, 20th Week of Ordinary Time - Year II

Readings: Ez 43:1-7ab • Ps 85 • Mt 23:1-12
__________________
As I read this Gospel passage the other day, I thought immediately of Pope Francis and a homily he preached a couple of years ago. It was one of those daily Mass homilies he preaches to the residents of the Vatican’s St. Martha guesthouse where the Holy Father lives.

His homily began with a prayer that echoed the words of Jesus in the Gospel:

"Lord, free your people from a spirit of clericalism and aid them with a spirit of prophecy."

During the course of his remarks, Francis described how the Pharisees, like so many of those who had preceded them, willfully misunderstood the prophets who had all pointed to Jesus. Blind to God's Revealed Word, they couldn't recognize the Incarnate Word as He lived and taught among them.

Today we'd accuse the Pharisees of being "spin doctors," all about image. Yes, for them it was all appearance, an outward display of their holiness, their importance. The Pharisees made a point of exercising their authority over the people, and so they saw Jesus not as the prophetic fulfillment of God's Revelation, but as a threat.

But the people thought otherwise. They seemed to recognize that the words and acts of Jesus were the manifestation of a unique authority that came from within Him. Sadly, the Pharisees, motivated by pride and fear, were concerned only with questioning Jesus' authority:

"By what authority do you teach?"

"By what law do you make these claims of yours?"

"How is it lawful for you to heal on the Sabbath?"

Indeed, Jesus was seen as so great a threat that they plotted to kill Him.

How many of us today are like them?

Brothers and sisters, the Gospel is proclaimed for our benefit and reflection; this is why these words are here for us today. This passage isn't simply the description of some incident involving people in the distant past, so we can say, if only to ourselves, "Oh, yes, those nasty Pharisees..."  and then forget about it.

No, like the entire Gospel, this passage is written to us and for us; but all too often, like the Pharisees, we hear the Gospel, the Good News, but fail to make the connection with ourselves. We, too, focus on authority and legalism; we become so wrapped up in the rules and rites and traditions of the Church -- in themselves all very good things -- that we forget their purpose. They are not ends; they are gifts. They are the means by which we can deepen and strengthen our relationship with God.

As Pope Francis stressed that morning, all too often we forget the promise of Jesus Christ, the Good News, and like the Pharisees focus only on authority. The pope concluded his homily as he had begun it, with a prayer:

"Lord, let us not forget your promise. Let us not grow tired of going forward. Let us not close ourselves in with legality."

Yes, some bishops, priests and deacons are certainly guilty of a clericalism through which they don't practice what they preach. They forget that without humility the other virtues cannot exist.

I suppose we deacons are fortunate. Not only do we minister at the very bottom rung of the clerical ladder, but the word "deacon" itself means "servant." With our name constantly reminding us of our lowly status, we are blessed. If only we could all remember this.

Today's Gospel passage is also used by some Christians to criticize the Catholic practice of addressing a priest as "Father," as well as referring to the pope as the "Holy Father."

Perhaps we should remind them of St. Paul's words to the Corinthians in which he calls himself their father [1 Cor 4:14-16]. This is no contradiction. Paul understood, just as the Church has always understood, that Jesus is making a spiritual point, reminding His disciples of their status as servants of God's people. But in that role as both teacher and father they are also servants. And Jesus reminds His disciples that they must also be teachers. Indeed, with His final command, he instructs them to "make disciples of all nations...teaching them to observe all that I have commended you" [Mt 28:19-20].

Yes, as disciples, we must become like servants. Interestingly, one of the pope's titles is "Servant of the servants of God." 

And so a father, whether in the Christian home or in the sanctuary, whether through sacramental Matrimony or Holy Orders, is called to lead his children, God's children, into the life in Christ.

Jesus simply reminds us not to clamor for honor or respect. It is through service that we become great. It is through humility that we are exalted.

Homily: Wednesday, 15th Week of Ordinary Time

Readings: Ex 3:1-6, 9-12 • Psalm 103 • Mt 11:25-27

________________________________________

Pere Marie-Joseph Lagrange, one of the founders of modern Catholic Biblical scholarship, called this brief Gospel passage: “Matthew’s most precious pearl.” And so it is.

It begins with the words, “At that time”, Scripture’s way of alerting us that something special is being described here, that a mystery of salvation is being proclaimed by the Son of God Himself. It’s actually a miraculous little passage, one that offers a glimpse into the intimate life of the Holy Trinity.

In a sense we’re privileged witnesses to a divine dialog of love, one continually carried on between Father and Son, one that constitutes the very substance of the interior life of God. Here Jesus, quite extraordinarily, reveals that He is conscious of himself as divine Person, as the only Son of the eternal God.

But these words, this divine conversation does more than reveal a relationship that transcends time and space. It’s also a proclamation by Jesus, one that effectively places the listener, and that’s you and me, together with Jesus and the Father. His prayer offers us an entryway into eternity and the life of the Trinity. Jesus invites us to become what He has always been and is: a sharer in the divine life.

He begins with thanksgiving and blessing: “I give praise to you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth…” Father and Lord – Jesus uses these two titles, doing so out of the unity of His person, in His divinity and His humanity. Yes, you are my Father and you are my Lord. God has become a man among men, without ceasing to be God. Jesus speaks as the Incarnate Word even when He addresses the Father in the intimacy of His Heart. He lets us witness this turning to the Father, showing us that dependence and obedience are at the very heart of His mission as Redeemer, as Lord and Savior or humanity.

"...you have not made me like the rest of men."

His prayer, this divine conversation, continues as He speaks of God “hiding” certain things from certain people: “the wise and the learned.” Here Jesus speaks not only of the usual suspects, the scribes and Pharisees; no, His words encompass far more than these. Wise and learned – the intellectually self-sufficient, the arrogant, the self-assured – those for whom humility can be only a vice.
Even in the Church we’re not immune to such arrogance. Perhaps a theologian, so learned, so certain he knows the mind of God and disdains those who dare to think otherwise. Or the scriptural scholar so wrapped up in the words that he’s become deaf to the one Word, the Word of God.

And what about us? How many of us look at others, at God’s children, at the least of His brothers and sisters, and instead of offering God’s love, offer the prayer of the Pharisee: “I thank you, Lord, that you have not made me like the rest of men”? – certainly no prayer to God; rather a prayer to oneself.

And so to whom are these hidden mysteries accessible? To the childlike, Jesus tells us. Who but the childlike possess the simplicity, the trust demanded of the true disciple? Who but the childlike willingly accept their utter dependence on their Heavenly Father? Just as a child learns to speak by imitating the words of its mother and father, you and I are called to imitate the divine Son as He turns to the Father in humility, praising the Father and accepting His will. Indeed, St. Bonaventure, whose feast we celebrate today, once wrote, “In all that you do and say, turn to Jesus as your model.”
Consider Moses in our first reading from Exodus. Moses, the soon-to-be great prophet and lawgiver, is overwhelmed at Horeb, overwhelmed by the presence of God, overwhelmed by his calling. But in his humility he accepts his dependence on the Father; and so he allows God to lead him and speak for him as he fulfills God’s will.

So, too, are we called to set aside the self, to suppress the words of self, and to submit to God's Word with simple trust and humility And then, capable of receiving the gift of God’s revelation, those hidden things, we can allow the Father to write the mysteries of the Kingdom upon our hearts.

Homily: Wednesday, 4th Week of Lent

Readings: Is 49:8-15; Ps 145; Jn 5:17-30

As the time of His passion and death approach, Jesus once more patiently tells His disciples, His critics, and us that He does all through God the Father, not through His humanity.

We can never fully understand Jesus’ relationship with the Father because it’s unlike any human relationship, even the most idealized. In our imperfect state we’re simply unable to grasp perfection.

But from this Divine Father-Son relationship comes a love so great that it extends to us all. Our Father loves us so much that He sent His beloved Son to take on our humanity, to offer Himself as a living sacrifice to redeem us from our own sinfulness. And the Son loves us and His Father so much that He does this willingly. He takes on all our sins, all our indignities, throughout all time. What kind of love is that? We sin, we fail, and He who made us pays the price.

And so today we encounter Jesus, fully aware of His approaching suffering and death, and yet loving even those who will condemn Him. He continues to explain the truth to those who reject it. He continues to hold out hope to all of us that the day of resurrection is coming. You see, brothers and sisters, Jesus isn’t just foretelling His resurrection, but ours as well. He tells us plainly that “the dead will hear the voice of the Son of God and those who hear will live.” And He invites us to trust in the perfection of His relationship with His Father, and to join in that same relationship, at least to the extent allowed by our limited human capacity.

We’re really not all that different from those who were blind to the loving divine relationship. The Pharisees and others, driven by fear and jealousy, rejected Him and the Good News, accusing Jesus of blasphemy. They never looked inward, did they? They never asked, “What do I bring to others?” Indeed, what do you and I bring to others?

Do we really hear and accept the Good News Jesus offers us? Or do we only pretend to hear, remaining closed to the Word of God because sharing it demands that we have a changed heart? Ask Christ to touch your heart and bring you the gift of openness to His Word.

Never doubt God’s love, but recall the words we heard from Isaiah – “I will never forget you" – words intended to strike the heart, words that we all long to hear from those who love us.

And so today, let’s all just keep this simple truth in the forefront of our thoughts: God will never forget me.

I will go to Calvary in my prayer and pray:  "God will never forget me."

I will go to the Empty Tomb in my prayer and pray:  "God will never forget me."

I will bring my brokenness and worries, my problems and joys to God and pray: "God will never forget me."

And then, filled with God’s love, let me then ask, “Who is God asking me never to forget?"