Homily: Christmas Weekday - January 5

Readings: 1 John 3:11-21; Ps 100; John 1:43-51

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Today’s readings are so remarkably appropriate given the condition of our world, given the state of the hearts and minds of so many.

We seem to be immersed, almost smothered, in a world lacking any kind of spiritual unity, a world too often typified by division and hatred. We watch the news, we scan the internet, read all the social media posts, and we must dig deep to encounter true faith, or to see the signs of hope that should mark our lives.

And how easy it is to add to the divisions and hatreds that increasingly separate us from each other. Families are torn apart because of political differences, or moral confusion, or a simple lack of trust. And the bonds of friendships dissolve for many of the same reasons. So many are simply unwilling to set it all aside and just love each other.

As John, the Apostle of Love, reminds us in his first letter, “Whoever does not love, remains in death.” He’s speaking here of spiritual death, a rejection of everything good, a rejection of God’s call to “love one another as I have loved you” [Jn 13:34].

John goes on to remind us that words mean little unless they are manifested in “deed and truth”, or to use a more common expression: to walk the talk. Who in your life needs the touch of your love, of God’s love? A family member? A friend, perhaps someone who hurt you, someone from whom you have withheld forgiveness? A maybe just a neighbor who irritates you no end? Reach out to them, not to receive anything, simply to extend God’s love.

Often enough we form little personal biases, pre-judgments that are hard to shatter. Just look at Nathaniel in our Gospel passage. Philip told him wondrous things about Jesus, that He is the one promised by God through Moses, a promise every Jew kept in his heart.

“I will raise up for them a prophet like you from among their kindred, and will put my words into the mouth of the prophet; the prophet shall tell them all that I command” [Dt 18:18].

But none of this impressed Nathaniel, who like Philip was probably from Bethsaida, and thought little of folks from Nazareth. The villages of Galilee, places like Bethsaida, Cana, and Nazareth, were just small country towns, subject to the same petty jealousies and rivalries that affect us today. 

I lived on Cape Cod for 25 or so years. It's a lovely little slice of God's earth, but the old-timers can be a bit...well, provincial. Here's a local story that displays how rivalries between the small towns manifest themselves: 

Two elderly men, both from the town of Chatham and both from old Cape families, were standing at the fence separating their front yards lamenting the number of tourists filling their Chatham streets. One said to the other, "Pretty soon, with all these tourists, there'll be no room for us natives." The other gave a snort and replied, "Natives? I heard that your great-great grandfather was born in Harwich." (Harwich was a neighboring town.)  

Yes, those Galilean villages were no doubt similar to our own versions, even here in The Villages. Not long ago, speaking with a woman who lives in a village that abuts ours, she said: “Our village is wonderful. We all love to get together in block parties and holiday celebrations. But I've noticed your village doesn’t do a lot of that.” This, of course, was just a slightly nicer way of saying, “Can anything good come from Nazareth?” [Jn 1:46] 

I wish I could say that, meeting me, she immediately changed her attitude. But no, she just continued with more of the same. But not Nathaniel. Philip, accepting his new role as evangelist, said to his friend: "Come and see." 

Yes, indeed, come and see Jesus and you will be changed. After only a few minutes with Our Lord, Nathaniel exceeded even Philip:

“Rabbi, you are the Son of God; you are the King of Israel” [Jn 1:49].

Declaring what the Spirit has revealed to him, he joined Philip and followed Jesus in "deed and truth.” And this is what every encounter with Jesus is like, or should be like.

Maybe we should spend more time away from all the modern, technological wonders that clutter our lives and our minds, and, like Nathaniel, just sit down for a while under our own figurative fig trees, and let God come to us. How good it is to just experience God’s creation and enjoy the peace that He extends to us.

I think it especially interesting that in 1^st Kings, we encounter the fig tree as a symbol of peace:

“During Solomon’s lifetime Judah and Israel lived in safety…all of them under the vines and the fig trees.” [1 Kgs 5:5]

And in Zechariah, an angel of the Lord assured the high priest with the words:

“On that day you will invite one another under your vines and fig trees” [Zech 3:10].

Our homes and our communities should also be places of safety, places of peace, places on invitation, where love overcomes all conflict. Then we, too, can join the psalmist and “serve the Lord with gladness…give thanks to Him; bless His name” [Ps 100:2,4]

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

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

Readings:  1 Cor 15:1-8; Psalm 19; Jn 14:6-14
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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.