Homily: 3rd Sunday of Advent - Year C

Readings: Zep 3:14-18a; Phil 4:4-7; Lk 3:10-18

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Gaudete Sunday – Today, smack in the middle of Advent, in this season of prayerful repentance and preparation, we are called to be joyful. It’s a time to rejoice, for that’s what Gaudete means: this Latin imperative: “Rejoice!” Hence, the color of our vestments and the candle we light today on our Advent wreaths – the color rose is offered as an outward sign of our joy.

But why? Why this focus on rejoicing? What’s its source? We rejoice today because our salvation is at hand. It’s especially fitting in anticipation of our celebration of the birth of our Savior on Christmas Day. Two Old Testament readings today, prophecies from Zephaniah and Isaiah, then a passage from Paul’s Letter to the Philippians, and finally the words of John the Baptist in Luke’s Gospel, all reminding Israel and us of God’s promise of salvation.

We’re told to shout for joy, to sing joyfully, to cry out with gladness, to exult with all our hearts, not to be discouraged, to leave anxiety behind, to fear nothing. Sisters and brothers, if you missed that message, you just weren’t paying attention.

In our first reading, Zephaniah completes his prophecy by telling us to rejoice:

“Shout for joy, daughter Zion! Sing joyfully, Israel...

But because he’s a prophet, inspired by the Holy Spirit, he speaks not only to the people of his time, but to those in the time of fulfillment, and that includes you and me:

"The Lord, your God, is in your midst, a mighty Savior…"

Zephaniah was also called to prepare God’s people by telling them how they are to receive their Savior:

“…I will leave as a remnant in your midst a people humble and lowly, who shall take refuge in the name of the Lord.”

Is Zephaniah speaking to us? To us, who have received a mighty Savior in our midst and continue to receive Him in His Eucharistic Presence? Yes, indeed, for Zephaniah’s words are God’s Word, inspired by the Holy Spirit and given to the Church for the salvation of all.

A remnant…a people humble and lowly? It that the Church? Is that us? Are we humble and lowly? 

My! That sure goes against the grain, doesn’t it? To be lowly in today’s world is to be a loser, because anyone who’s anyone strives to be a winner. Fame and fortune beckon and the lowly will be left behind. Yes, indeed, humility’s not something we see a lot of these days. As my father used to say, only partially in jest:

“Humility’s a strange commodity. Once you know you have it, you just lost it.”

You never hear saints talking about their humility, because for them humility is simply reality, the reality of our existence. We are all children of God, none better than the other, all loved into existence by our great God, Who created everything. Now, that's humbling.

Does this remnant of humble, lowly ones rejoice in God’s gift of salvation? Do evangelists of the last days prepare the world for the Son’s return? Yes, indeed, for God so often takes the weak and powerless, and through them does wondrous things. Or He allows us to be weakened, so we so come to experience true humility.

Some years ago, driving north, Diane and I stopped by Jacksonville to see dear old friends, a retired admiral and his wife, Scott and Marnie. I’d known Scott for years, and flown with him back in our Navy days. But now he was dying of cancer, and we wanted to see him once more.

That day, as we ate lunch together, Scott’s drawn face suddenly filled with peace. He smiled and said:

“You know, Dana, I’m so looking forward to seeing our Lord, I can hardly stand it. Isn’t that weird?”

Scott died exactly one week later. And that comment, made over a salad at a Longhorn restaurant, was a gift. Speaking with us several weeks later, Marnie said, “Scott saved me from a lot of grief because he was so joyful about the life to come.” We are to welcome the Lord with joy, however and whenever He might come to us.

We hear a similar message in our Responsorial Psalm. It’s really not one of the Psalms, but a prayer of praise, joy, and thanksgiving from Isaiah. We need only pray again our response:

“Cry out with joy and gladness: for among you is the great and Holy One of Israel.”

Accepting this, we believe our Savior is among us now, and that God is calling us to prepare the world for His ultimate return. We must, then, try to understand what God desires of us. And to find out, let’s revisit today’s Gospel passage from Luke.

Many picture John the Baptist as some odd zealot, dressed in animal skins, roaming about the desert, telling everyone to repent while they still have time – in other words, kind of a scary guy. John was certainly a bit fierce, mainly because he understood the holiness of God, the effects of sin, and so preached the need for repentance. And yet, he was among the sweetest of men – a saint of indescribable humility, and perhaps the most joyful saint in Scripture.

For John had met and acknowledged Jesus before both were born. Filled with the Holy Spirit, John leaped in his mother’s womb at the sound of Mary’s greeting – an unborn infant filled with joy at his Lord’s arrival. As Luke reveals to us: Called by the Word of God, John “went throughout the whole region of the Jordan, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.” We too are called to experience this same joy as we prepare for our own meeting with Jesus.

Did you notice that everyone John encountered, everyone he baptized, asked the same question: “What are we to do?” How should we live our lives? And John told them all – the crowds, the tax collectors, the soldiers, everyone who asked him – that they must live their newfound faith. They must prove it through works of charity, honesty, faithfulness, and justice.

Yes, indeed, “What are we to do?”

Well, God gave us a pretty simple command: Love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, mind, soul, and strength; and love your neighbor as yourself.

“What are we to do?”

About 25 years ago, ministering in another parish, I was asked that same question. A couple, in their early 40s, approached me after Sunday Mass and asked if they could meet with me. I didn’t know them. I’d been a deacon for only a few years, but I agreed to meet privately the next day.

We began the meeting with a brief prayer, then the man told me they were seasonal visitors, living in their new summer home. It seems they had just sold their business, a software development company, for over 50 million. My immediate thought? Oh, a big donation’s coming. 

But no, it was the wife who spoke next and said, “We’ve both been unfaithful, but want to save our marriage.” And with that, her husband looked at me and asked, “What are we to do?”

Hearing that question – What are we to do? – threw me right back into Luke’s Gospel, and caused me to ask myself, "What am I to do now?"

I first told them to go to the sacrament reconciliation and receive God’s forgiveness and taste His mercy. And because I’m no marriage counselor, I referred them to a faithful Catholic counselor, one whom I knew would help them. Then I just said: “Love, repentance, forgiveness, and mercy.”

That they were there, together, demonstrated their love for each other. Repentance, though, means far more than being sorry for our sins. The very word – repent – means to re-think, to change our thinking, and from that to change how we act. As St. Paul reminds us, repentance demands change.

“…put on the new self, created in God’s way, in righteousness and holiness of truth.”

Forgiveness and mercy…well, they go together, for they are the most vivid manifestation of God’s love, the same love we are called to imitate. We should, of course, begin in our own families, forgiving those who love us, those whom we love, those to whom we can sometimes be most unkind indeed. 

But don’t stop there. Do what John told the crowds as they prepared to meet their Lord: Give to the poor, not just from your surplus but from your own need. Be honest, loving, caring people.

Called by God as His messenger, John prepared the world to receive Jesus Christ, the Word of God Incarnate. John awakened those he encountered, pulled them out of their complacency, led them to repentance so they would understand Jesus when He came.

And it’s no different today. To shake the world out of its indifference, to heal the hatreds, the divisions, the Church needs us all to be true witnesses to God’s love for the world. Today, because our God calls us all to rejoice in our salvation, we need people of joy – not just on one Sunday of Advent, but every day.

St. Paul, in our reading from Philippians, said it best:

“Rejoice in the Lord always. I shall say it again: rejoice!”

And he wrote those words from a Roman prison, as he awaited execution. Yes, “Rejoice in the Lord always.”

I’m reminded again of the words of my dying friend, Scott:

“I’m so looking forward to seeing our Lord, I can hardly stand it.”

Here, indeed, is the peace of God that surpasses all understanding. And this, sisters and brothers, is the Good News of Jesus Christ. Live it! Share it!

 

Homily: Third Sunday in Ordinary Time - Year B

Readings: Jon 3:1-5,10; Ps 25; 1Cor 7:29-31; Mk 1:14-20

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One theme present in today’s readings is time, or perhaps more specifically, the passage of time. Of course, at my age – and I suspect this is true for a few of you – the passage of time is very evident.

When we were children, time crept by, carrying us slowly and deliberately through our young lives. What a blessing this was! The movement of time let us anticipate and savor so much of life – to observe, learn, absorb all that we encountered…and if we were fortunate, to distance us from the not so good.

For several years, Diane and I took foster children into our home. We had four children of our own, but we took on emergency cases, children who often came from difficult family situations.

Amazingly, regardless of the tumult and confusion these little ones had endured, they were often able to set it aside. Moved by love for their parents, their fervent hope was to return, to return to a renewed family where all would be set right. One need only look at a child to see the true manifestation of hope as a virtue.

But as we age, time moves along more quickly, doesn’t it? It hurries us through our days, pushing us relentlessly to the very culmination of our lives. It’s as if time, like today’s readings, pleads with us, reminding us we cannot bargain with it; that for each life, time has a limit, one that can come on quickly.

In our second reading St. Paul doesn’t pull any punches, but comes right out and tells the Corinthians and us that, “time is running out…the world in its present form is passing away.”

Paul wants us to be ready, to prepare for all that is to come, to prepare for God’s transformation of the world, and to prepare for judgment. He calls us to prepare – not by our own power, but through God’s gift of grace.

For God comes to us. He comes to us here in His Word, proclaimed in our hearing, entering into our minds and hearts.

He comes to us in the Eucharist, joining our very being with His Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity, joining us to one another in this shared Communion. Do we ever think of that? As we depart here today, we are surrounded by the Real Presence of Jesus in each other. Yes, through the Eucharist each of us becomes a God-bearer, called to take Jesus Christ to others.

He comes to us, too, when we encounter Him daily, especially in His least brothers and sisters. Do we see Christ in them? At the Wildwood Soup Kitchen, we told our volunteers, “We don’t serve meals; we serve Jesus Christ.” But do those we serve, experience Jesus in us? Do they turn to us in expectation, in hope? That marvelous writer, the late Flannery O’Connor, once wrote to a friend: “You will have found Christ when you are concerned with other people’s suffering and not your own.”

How foolish we are when we ignore these daily encounters. And yet so many of us do just that when we make the mistake of thinking the little slice of time we’ve been given belongs to us.

"Follow me and I will make you fishers of men."

The apostles didn’t make that mistake. They had encountered Jesus in the flesh – hearing, seeing, touching Him – and realized that they had been called, called in God’s time, not theirs. They had no time to do anything but drop their nets, turn away from their former lives, and follow Jesus. They didn’t fully understand it, not then, but moved by the Spirit, they knew it was a special time.

Indeed, in that same brief Gospel passage from Mark, Jesus begins His public ministry with the words, “This is the time of fulfillment.” Here is Jesus, the Lord of History, standing at the very center of all time, bringing everything that went before to fulfillment – truly, a most special time. The very thought of the Incarnation, God’s thought, was made in eternity, outside of time itself. And with His coming, everything changed.

The time of the Old Covenant pointed forward, away from itself, to Jesus Christ, its fulfillment. Yes, Jesus tells us, all of time that came before, every moment from the creation of time itself out of eternity, is brought to completion. His coming thrust us into God’s time; and Jesus, our God become man, is now ever-present.

Yes, indeed, it’s His time; it’s God’s time, for Jesus goes on to tell us: “The Kingdom of God is at hand.” To be sure, then, this fulfillment of time also means the time of the Kingdom of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

But other than this, Jesus really tells us very little about this time, or what we can expect as it unfolds. He tells us only that God has acted and fulfilled all. Then, continuing His teaching at that first moment of His ministry, Jesus commands us to act as well – for we must do our part.

“Repent,” Jesus commands, “and believe in the Gospel.”

Instead of telling us what we can expect, Jesus tells us what God expects of us. First, we are to repent. Translated from the Greek, metanoia, it means a change of mind and heart.

Time and change — repentance calls us to look back, if only to acknowledge the sinfulness of our lives; but then, filled with hope, to look forward to conversion, to forgiveness, and to the joy of the Good News. Jesus calls us to faith, to accept the Gospel, and to love our God and to love each other. Then, with minds and hearts turned toward God, we can experience the surprising joy of the Good News.

Sisters and brothers, Jesus spoke those words to the people of Galilee gathered around Him that day. He spoke to each one of them, personally, individually, calling them to accept His gift of faith, calling them to repentance, conversion, and joy. And He speaks this message to each us as well; for we, too, are called…and as Paul reminds us, “time is running out.”

Are we like the people of Nineveh? Like all of us they needed to repent. They had turned from God…until He placed that ultimatum before them. God set a 40-day time limit to their lives, and when they heard Jonah’s message, the message of the most reluctant of all the prophets, they realized their time was running out.

But they didn’t wait, not for a moment. No, they acknowledged their sins, turned to God in repentance, and He lifted the dire sentence He had placed on them.

Nineveh Repents

Repentance, conversion, salvation, and joy.

What about our time? People move here to our little corner of the world to have the time of their lives, don’t they? But all too often they forget that the time of their lives is coming all too quickly to an end.

Christ’s message, then, is one of urgency. It’s a message that demands an answer. To put it off is to run the risk of missing the coming of the Kingdom into our lives.

This Gospel message is for every single one of us, for all of humanity stretched out over the entire span of time. It’s a message aimed directly at the heart, in which God marks each of us for repentance, and for the salvation He desires for us.

Brothers and sisters, that we're here today means you and I believe in the Good News of Jesus Christ, in the salvation He offers us. Our Lord calls us to live that belief in lives that glorify God by loving and serving Him and each other.

Have you and I done much God-glorifying lately? Maybe it’s time to give it a try. Then, through the grace of God, we really can have the time of our lives.

Homily: Feast, St. Luke, Evangelist

I didn't actually preach this homily today, since the celebrant decided to preach, which is certainly fine with me. But since I had prepared a homily for St. Luke's feast day, I thought I might as well post it here.

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Readings: 2 Tim 4:10-17b; Psalm 145; Luke 10:1-9  

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Today we celebrate the feast of St. Luke, evangelist and companion of Paul – author of the Gospel that bears his name and also the author of Acts of the Apostles. Of all those early Christians, those we read about in the Gospels and in Acts, Luke is the one I’d most enjoy meeting and spending some time with.

He was a physician – “beloved physician” Paul calls him – and therefore like Paul an educated man – something that’s evident by the quality of his writing. Most scholars believe he was a Greek and a Gentile, but whatever his background, it’s apparent Luke was in the first wave of Gentile converts to the Faith. 

His Gospel was aimed at the Gentiles, those unfamiliar with Jewish Law and custom. In other words, he wrote for folks like you and me, so his approach is quite different from the other Synoptic gospels. For one thing, he rarely quotes the Old Testament, and never refers to Jesus with the Hebrew title of Rabbi, but always with the Greek title of Master. Unlike Matthew, Luke doesn’t trace Jesus’ genealogy from Abraham (the founder of the Jewish race) but from Adam (the ‘founder’ of the human race). 

Luke gives women a more prominent place in his Gospel. The nativity and infancy story, much more extensive in Luke’s Gospel, is told from Mary's point of view. And it’s through Luke that we know about Elizabeth, Anna, the widow of Naim, and the woman who anointed Jesus’ feet.

Luke also gives us some of the most beautiful parables, for example, the Prodigal Son; and only Luke relates the parable about the non-Jew, the Good Samaritan. Without Luke we wouldn’t have the road to Emmaus or those three great canticles -- Mary’s Magnificat, Zechariah’s Benedictus, and Simeon’s Nunc Dimittis – canticles we pray every day in the Liturgy of the Hours. But what I like most about Luke’s Gospel is the emphasis he places on prayer and praise, and the mercy and goodness of God. He describes Jesus praying at all key moments of his life.

What sort of man was Luke? Well, in today’s first reading we get a glimpse of the real Luke. Writing to Timothy, Paul describes how he’s been abandoned by co-workers and friends except for two key companions.

Onesiphores, had traveled far and found Paul, seemingly without help from the Christians in Rome. And Luke who had remained with Paul, endured the imprisonment with him and cared for him. It would seem Luke’s friendship was important to Paul. Cut off from his own community, perhaps unappreciated by the Roman Christians, Paul faced certain execution, and was unable to move about and preach the Good News. We sense his loneliness. 

Luke, trying to complete his texts, found himself attending to Paul who was probably held in some sort of house confinement or possibly even imprisoned. We can only imagine what this friendship might have cost Luke personally. He probably wondered whether he’d also be caught up in Rome’s campaign to destroy the Christian message. But his loving care remained authentic, and he stayed beside his friend.

True friendship is a uniquely human experience and is often most clearly shown by the small acts of care and attention one person shows for his or her friend. It’s also a simple thing, something in which even a child can participate. And yet it has a divine element as well. Listen, again, to these words from today’s psalm: 

“Your friends make known, O Lord, the glorious splendor of your Kingdom” [Ps 145:12].

Yes, the compassion and love that are the signs of friendship are also signs of the Kingdom of God, signs of God’s grace. Knowledge of the Kingdom is made possible by experiencing the quality of love that a friend bestows.

The Gospel, too, invites this insight. Friendship brings a Spirit of Peace with it; and where the Spirit of Peace is found, one discovers true hospitality. It is, then, in the heart of true friendship that the lost, the lonely, the abandoned, the imprisoned, the hurting, and the broken find encouragement and are made whole and healthy and strong again.

Saint Luke is the patron of physicians, not just because he was one himself, but because he was a healer of the both the heart and the soul. He was a true friend to Paul, who no doubt was in great need of consolation. 

But St. Luke is also recognized as a friend of the poor and the outcast, because he recorded how Jesus took pains to care for the least, the most rejected, the impoverished. At the Last Supper, Jesus set the example for all of us saying, “I call you friends,” because a friend will lay down his life for the other.

Luke, recognizing the divine character of this most human of relationships, followed the Lord’s example. Perhaps, then, we should honor St. Luke as the patron saint of friendship.

Homily: Saturday, 7th Week of Easter

Readings: Acts 28:16-20,30-31; Ps 11; Jn 21:20-25

My! Today's readings sure give us a lot on which to reflect, to pray, and to preach; so, I decided just to turn it over to the Holy Spirit and ask for His help.

You see, today’s readings complete the Easter season by presenting us with the final verses of both the Acts of the Apostles and John's Gospel. In a sense they sum up all that’s gone before.

Luke began and ended his Gospel in Jerusalem, and it's in that city, too, where he began his second book, the Acts of the Apostles. In Acts we follow Paul on his journeys through the Greek-speaking world, as he establishes local churches and calls people to Christ while moving inexorably toward his destination, toward Rome – in one sense, the new Jerusalem.

In today's reading we encounter Paul in the final days of his ministry. Imprisoned in Rome, he awaits execution at the hands of Nero, the emperor who will also take the life of Peter. And it's there, in Rome, Luke tells us, that Paul "with complete assurance and without hindrance proclaimed the Kingdom of God and taught about the Lord Jesus Christ" [Acts 28:31]. Yes, Paul remains the true disciple as he completes his earthly journey of faith.

Our journey of discipleship is much the same – one of discovery, and praise, and wonder, and stumbling, and prophecy fulfilled – a journey filled with a lifetime of experiences, the good, the bad, and the ugly. Like Paul, we, too, sometimes encounter obstacles or outright barriers, or simply head off in the wrong direction, only to be called back by the Holy Spirit. Just like Paul, we need to rest along the way and regain our strength, for discipleship is no easy road. Jesus knows this, for He experienced it too. He knows our weaknesses, all those little pieces of us that crave attention, all that call us away from Him. And so, He comes to us again and again, giving us a taste of that which awaits us.

How did Paul put it to the Jews who visited him in Rome, and to us? We share in the hope of Israel, a hope fulfilled in Jesus’ death and resurrection [See Acts 28:20]. Keep the faith, Paul says, don’t let all the stuff of our lives distract us from the eternal.

Peter, too, learned and preached this. But as John’s Gospel comes to a close, we find Peter just beginning his formation as a disciple. Filled with questions, Peter still awaits the fulness of the Holy Spirit. In his heart Peter knows he’s been given a very special task – “Feed my lambs…feed my sheep” [Jn 21:15,17] – and no doubt he fears all it will bring.

Suspecting Jesus has given him the hardest road to travel, he points to young John, the fair-haired boy, the one whom Jesus loved, and asks, “What about him?” Peter is so devilishly human, isn’t he? He’s so much like you and me, so worried about himself, always comparing himself to others, unaware that God doesn’t compare, that God sees each of us exactly as we are.

Jesus tells Peter this, in effect saying: “Look, Peter, don’t worry about John, or my plans for him. It’s really none of your business. Just do the work I’ve given you.” And to ensure Peter understands, he adds, “You follow me!” [Jn 21:22]

How often are we just like Peter, so caught up in what others are doing that we neglect the work God has given us.

What is God calling you to do – not next week or next month – but what’s His will for you today, right now? Life is a gift, brothers and sisters, and it can end at any moment.  If we take each of those moments that God gives us, and simply follow Him, always doing His will in all those seemingly little things, one moment to the next, He will lead us to the big things.

Even though we’re struggling and broken and torn and sinful, God continues to call us to the work He has for us. He calls us in the moment, in the little things of our lives, in the things He knows we can handle.

This is what Divine Mercy is really all about: it’s about God’s love bringing us back to Him, repeatedly, one tiny piece at a time.

And discipleship? It’s nothing complicated, just a total offering of self, an offering of all those pieces, an offering that God willingly accepts. Through His love, His mercy, and the working of the Holy Spirit, He makes us whole again so we can do our part to complete Christ’s mission on earth.

Yes, indeed, we tend to complicate things, but Jesus keeps it simple: Just follow me!

Homily: Monday, 7th Week of Easter (Year 1)

Readings: Acts 19:1-8; Ps 68; Jn 16:29-33

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Did you happen to catch those words proclaimed in our first reading?

“…the Holy Spirit came upon them, and they spoke in tongues and prophesied” [Acts 19:6].

The Holy Spirit really likes to surprise us, doesn’t He? He takes our so very human, super-rational view of the world and overwhelms it with the supernatural. He wants us to realize that there’s far more to creation than the material world that surrounds us.

In the Talmud, the rabbis tell us it’s well we can’t see the spiritual world, for we would be overwhelmed by the presence of countless angels and demons, surrounding us, fighting for our souls. Interestingly, St. Thomas Aquinas seems to agree with them.

Yes, indeed, there’s far more to God’s creation than what we see with our eyes. And the Holy Spirit occasionally gives us glimpses into that reality. 

But He always gives us a choice, the same choice Jesus gave those who witnessed the miraculous “signs” of His divinity. We can either assume it’s all an illusion, perhaps some clever trick and just walk away…or we can realize we have witnessed and been blessed by the Presence of God Himself.

Just as Jesus performed the miraculous, all those signs, to give people a reason to listen to His Word, so too, did the Spirit give these new Corinthian Christians the supernatural gifts of tongues and prophecy. The people, having witnessed these manifestations of God’s presence, would then listen to Paul as he preached the Gospel of Jesus Christ in the city’s synagogues.

Do you think all that speaking in tongues and prophesying are hard to accept? If so, you’re in good company. Many early Chirstians felt the same. 

Indeed, a few chapters earlier, back in Acts 10 some Gentiles began to speak in tongues and glorify God, and Peter decided that was reason enough to baptize them. But when some of his fellow Chirstians questioned thuis, Peter said:

“Can anyone withhold the water for baptizing these people, who have received the Holy Spirit even as we have?” [Acts 10:47]

Today, perhaps more than any other gift, we need the gift of prophecy in the midst of the Church, the Word of God proclaimed in truth. Of course, the question is: would we listen? Sadly, in our weakness too often we ignore or even distort that truth.

In our Gospel passage the apostles laid it on kind of thick, didn’t they? 

Oh, yes, Jesus, “we believe that you came from God” [Jn 16:30]. They acted as if they finally understood all that Jesus had told them. But, of course, they didn’t, and so, Jesus questioned the depth of their faith. How did He put it?

“…the hour…has arrived when each of you will be scattered to his own home and you will leave me alone” [Jn 16:32].

Oh, yes, these men, chosen by Jesus, had such deep faith and understanding that on that very night they deserted Him. The only one Jesus could count on was the Father:

“But I am not alone,” He told them, “because the Father is with me” [Jn 16:32].

For this is the core truth of the Trinity: where Jesus is, so is the Father, and so too is the Holy Spirit.

Because of the disciples’ human weakness, Jesus knew He couldn’t count on them until they’d received the Spirit.

Utlimately, it took our loving God’s greatest gift, the gift of the Holy Spirit, to bring the twelve back to Jesus, and to strengthen them, for they had been sent out “to make disciples of all nations…” [Mt 28:19] and they certainly couldn’t do that on their own.

How about you and me? As we prepare to celebrate the Spirit’s live-giving work at Pentecost, work that brought the Church to life through the minds and hearts of Mary and the disciples…How about us? Do we accept the Spirit and His gifts?

It’s through the work of the Spirit that the Church – and that’s not just the pope and the bishops, that’s you and me… It’s only through the Spirit  that we can accomplish God’s work in the world.

Pray to the Spirit, brothers and sisters. Pray to Him daily. He wants to do wondrous things in your lives. He will surprise you just as He surprised those new Christians in Corinth.

He is the Lord and the giver of life, and at every Mass the celebrant invokes Him to give us new life through the Body and Blood of the Lord. Through that new life we can join Him, helping Him as He does His saving work in the world.

Today Jesus offers us hope, a glimpse of light to overpower the darkness of our world:

We are not alone, He reminds us. God is with us, Jesus is with us, the Spirit is with us…now and forever.

Homily: Monday, 6th Week of Easter

Readings: Acts 16:11-15; Ps 149; Jn 15:26-16:4a
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I've often mentioned my father and some of the things he taught me. When it came to listening, he used to say:

"Nobody ever hated a listener. I've never heard anyone say, 'He listens too much.'"

Isn't that the truth?

And when it comes to our Faith, our willingness to listen can make all the difference. You and I hear the Word of God proclaimed and preached right here, and yet how many of us hear the words but not the Word?

Jesus is the Living Word of God

If the Word of God is going to pierce our hearts and make a difference in our lives, we have to listen to it. And if we listen, if we really listen, the power of the Word is beyond our imagining, something we're told in the Letter to the Hebrews:

"For the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and spirit, of joints and marrow, and discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart" [Heb 4:12].

Wow! Talk about power!

And did you notice - did you listen to what Luke told us in our first reading? Paul, when visiting the city of Philippi, went outside the city to a place of prayer. And there he encountered Lydia. Lydia was a merchant, a dealer in purple cloth - in those days that was the expensive stuff - so she was probably wealthy. She was also a "worshiper of God," which means she was either a Jew or a righteous Gentile, probably the latter. Lydia, too, had gone to that place to pray, but what did she do when Paul began to preach?

Lydia and Paul in Philippi

Luke tell us: she "listened, and the Lord opened her heart to pay attention to what Paul was saying" [Acts 16:14].

Did you hear that? Because she listened, the Lord opened her heart. In other words, if we do our part, the Lord will do His. And too often that's the problem. Because we don't listen, our hearts remain closed and impenetrable, unable to receive God's saving Word. We become like Pharaoh in the Book of Exodus. He refused to listen to what the Lord was telling him through Moses and Aaron, so his heart remained closed and hardened.

But not Lydia. She listened to God's Word and had her entire household Baptized. And then, her heart filled with the Spirit, she opened her home to Paul and his companions.

All of this, of course, is the work of the Holy Spirit, the "Advocate" that Jesus promised in today's Gospel passage. The Holy Spirit, you see, is the dispenser of God's gifts. You remember His wondrous gifts, don't you? The gifts of wisdom, understanding, knowledge, counsel, fortitude, piety, and fear of the Lord [Is 11:1-3]. Kinda cover the waterfront, don't they?

And notice, too, how Jesus explains that the Holy Spirit, the gift-giver, is Himself a gift from Father and Son. Listen again...

"When the Advocate comes whom I will send you from the Father, the Spirit of truth who proceeds from the Father, He will testify to me. And you also testify..." [Jn 15:26-27]

"...our God is a consuming fire" [Heb 12:29]

Jesus goes on to remind us that this testifying won't be easy, that many will fail to listen, and with closed hearts will reject His Word. Did you hear His prophecy?

"...the hour is coming when everyone who kills you will think he is offering worship to God" [Jn 16:2].

Yes, for many Christians throughout the world, that hour has already arrived. And so let's pray for today's persecuted Christians; and pray too for those who persecute them. Pray that these will hear God's Word of salvation, listen to it, and open their hearts to the conversion God desires for them.

And let us pray, too, for ourselves - we who so often place the things of this world ahead of God's will for us. Pray that we will be open to the Spirit's gifts, that like Lydia we'll listen and open our hearts and homes to Our Lord Jesus Christ.

Homily: 5th Sunday in Ordinary Time (Year C)

Readings: Is 6:1-8; Ps 138:1-8; 1 Cor 15:1-11; Lk 5:1-11

In one of my other lives, one of my pre-retirement working lives, I had responsibility for interviewing and hiring those who would work for me. I always considered these hiring decisions the most important and yet the most difficult I had to make. I suppose I had a pretty good track record, but every once in a while I’d get fooled.

Sometimes I’d hire someone who just seemed perfect for the job. He had the education and qualifications, projected just the sort of personality and attitude I was looking for…and so I hired him. And then I soon discovered that he was lazy, barely competent, disloyal, and unable to function as a member of a team.

But the surprises weren’t always bad. Once, to satisfy pressing customer needs, I had to hire a couple of trainers quickly. The first who walked in the door was a young woman with a so-so educational background, a thin resume, and very little experience. She was also extremely nervous throughout the interview.  But something, some gut feeling, told me to hire her. She turned out to be an outstanding employee because she had drive, a positive attitude, a willingness to learn, and loved her work.

Now with that in mind, just think about Jesus’ hiring decisions. He was putting a team together, this apostolic team of His, a team that would have to begin and grow a worldwide enterprise of the sort never before seen. What’s His vision for this organization, this Church? Geographically, he told his disciples, it will span the entire world, encompass all nations. But that’s not all. He also promises it will exist until the end of time.

And so, whom does he hire to lead it? Does he bring in the top religious leaders of the time? Or the greatest thinkers? Does he tap into the elite, the movers and shakers of the Empire, the power brokers, the intelligentsia? No. Instead He chooses a bunch of fishermen from the backwater of Galilee, a collection of simple, unknown men who, for the next three years, seem totally incapable of understanding anything Jesus tells them.

What kind of men are they? Well, most were indeed fishermen, but one, called Matthew, was a tax-collector, probably the profession most despised by the people. Not a very customer-focused hire.

Another, named Judas, proves to be disloyal in the extreme, so disloyal he betrays Jesus by handing Him over to those who will kill Him. Simon Peter, the de facto leader of the group isn’t much better. Full of bluster and false pride, he talks a good game, but when the going gets tough he denies Jesus again and again. Then there’s Thomas, the doubter, and James and John, the “Sons of Thunder” Jesus calls them with sharp irony, the brothers so concerned with their ranking among the disciples. And the others…well, they just fade away at the time of Jesus’ greatest need.

Oh, yes, Jesus hires one more apostle. He reaches down and touches a man named Saul, a leading persecutor of the early Church. That’s a bit like the CIA saying, “You know, we should be more multi-cultural here. Let’s hire some al-Qaida and Taliban folks to work in our embassies.”

But, you see, Jesus wasn’t influenced by all the worldly qualifications – and disqualifications – that we consider so important. He wasn’t hiring for a business start-up. No, He was choosing men who could become faithful, trusting disciples, men who could do His work of leading the world to salvation.

Jesus sees each person’s true worth and judges the heart and the will. He judged the apostles and He judges us not so much for what we are, but for what we can become on our lifelong journey of conversion.

Like the apostles, and many who came before and after, we too can resist that call to conversion, that call to discipleship. Isaiah, Paul and Peter – the three men we heard from in today’s readings – each resisted God’s call when confronted by his own insignificance, his own sinfulness, in the presence of God’s transcendent greatness.

Of the three I suppose I feel more kinship with Peter. He just seems so totally human – a practical, down-to-earth sort of man who says what he thinks, and isn’t easily impressed by others. He was a commercial fisherman, an entrepreneur who, with his brother Andrew, owned his own boat and nets, and worked hard to earn a living. He probably came from generations of fishermen, since in those days occupations were usually passed on from father to son. Fishing was in his blood. He knew his trade and he knew the Sea of Galilee as well as anyone.

So when Jesus told him to “put out into deep water” and cast his nets, Peter was justifiably skeptical: “Master, we have worked hard all night and have caught nothing…” [Lk 5:4-5]

Yes, a nice way of saying, “Look, Jesus, you’re a carpenter and obviously a very holy man, but if I know one thing it’s fishing, and there’s no way we’ll catch anything now, not in the middle of the day.”

Yet, despite this, Peter did as Jesus asked: “…but at your command I will lower the nets.”

"Depart from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man."

And what happened? They caught so many fish that their nets were tearing and they needed the help of other fishermen on another boat.

Now Peter had witnessed the miracles of Jesus before. He had seen healings, even the cure of his own mother-in-law, but Peter was no doctor.  He had seen Jesus turn water into wine at Cana, but he was no chemist. But this was different. Because Peter knew fishing, and he knew that what he’d just witnessed had never happened before, that he’d witnessed a miracle.

Overcome by this revelation, he fell to his knees, “Depart from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man” [Lk 5:8]. Just moments before, he had called Jesus, “Master.” Now he calls him, “Lord.”

But just as He did with Isaiah, and would later do with Paul, God takes the initiative. Jesus knew that Peter’s sense of unworthiness was accompanied by something else: a very deep fear. I look back at my own life and see it littered with these fearful, Peter-like moments, but Peter’s experience was far more profound. For Peter, at his very core, was frightened, frightened by the sudden realization that he was weak and powerless in the presence of something, of some ONE, much greater than himself. And he was frightened too by the knowledge that Jesus could see into his inmost being. Frightened by the darkness, the sinfulness he knew was there. I suspect he was also frightened by what Jesus might ask him to do.

Yes, Peter was frightened, and Jesus knew it. Jesus also knew that Peter’s sense of unworthiness and fear wasn’t the same as unwillingness. Peter, this tough guy, normally full of bravado, was now overcome by a kind of fear he had never before experienced. But Jesus also knew that Peter would ultimately do whatever His Lord asked of him. “Do not be afraid,” Jesus tells him, “from now on you will be catching men” [Lk 5:10].

You see, brothers and sisters, Jesus accepts us as we are. He loves us as we are. But He loves us too much to let us stay as we are. He calls us as we are, but He always calls us to something greater. He calls us to holiness.

How did St. Paul put it in today’s first reading? “…I am the least of the apostles, not fit to be called an apostle…But by the grace of God I am what I am” [1 Cor 15:9-10]. God doesn’t call saints. He calls sinful men and women and makes them saints. He calls the weak and makes them strong. And He calls us all, every single one of us.

As He calls disciples to Himself, He makes the most unworldly of hiring decisions. He hires everyone who comes to Him in humility and powerlessness. Paul and Peter both came to understand that the Incarnation – this God becoming man – and especially our Lord’s passion and death was an act of voluntary powerlessness on God’s part. They also understood that Word and Sacrament aren’t gifts to make us feel good, but rather a way for us to participate in the humbling work of Christ.

God’s call is a call to powerlessness, something that many of us, clergy and laity, have yet to accept. It’s a call to “put out into the deep water” – and that can be a very scary place when you’re alone. The first true steps in faith are always a bit frightening, brothers and sisters, but you’re not alone, for Jesus promises to be with each one of us every step of the way.

What is He calling you to do? Don’t know? Then look to your weaknesses, because the call will come from there. And then, like Isaiah, you too can respond, “Here I am...Send me” [Is 6:8].