Homily for Mass and Healing Service: Dedication of St. John Lateran Basilica

I have embedded a video of the homily I preached at our semiannual Mass and Healing Service, which fell this year on the feast of the Dedication of St. John Lateran Basilica.

The full text of the homily follows the video:

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Readings: Ez 47:1-2,8-9,12; Ps 46; 1 Cor 3:9-11,16-17; Jn 2:13-22
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“Zeal for your house has consumed me” [Ps 69:10].

John tells us the disciples recalled these words from Scripture as Jesus cleansed the Temple area. But that verse from Psalm 69 concludes with a few more words:

“I am scorned by those who scorn you.”

And, oh yes, how Jesus was scorned: scorned by those who should have known better: scorned by those who heard His Word, witnessed His works, and yet rejected His gift of Faith. That rejection continues, both within and outside the Church, the Church He founded 2,000 years ago.

Today, on this great feast, we remember that even though no building could ever be large enough to contain our God in His divine greatness, still He makes Himself present to us in the most human way, under the appearances of bread and wine. In its earliest days the Church celebrated Christ’s Presence in the smallest of churches, the homes of the faithful, where communities gathered for prayer and the breaking of the Eucharistic Bread. As the Church grew, so too did the number and size of the places where it gathered to meet with God. 

Today we celebrate the dedication of the greatest basilica of them all, St. John Lateran, the cathedral of the Diocese of Rome where Pope Francis, the Bishop of Rome, formally presides. Because it dates back to the 4th century, the Lateran Basilica is really the mother of all churches. Known more by is partial dedication to St. John, its full proper name is the Patriarchal Basilica of the Most Holy Savior and Saint John the Baptist at the Lateran. 

Thanks to the gift of the Eucharist, God is equally present in every church, large and small. As St. Paul reminds us, this gathered community is God’s Holy Temple. It is here that we encounter the pouring out of God’s grace, flowing from the sacraments, and presenting us with God’s mercy, healing, and hope. And, oh, does our world need God’s mercy and hope. Perhaps Pope St. John Paul said it best:

“Apart from the mercy of God, there is no other source of hope for the healing of humanity.” 

How wonderful that our last three popes – St. John Paul, Benedict, and Francis – preached and wrote so much about healing…certainly about physical healing, but most frequently about the deeper, inner healing of the spirit. As each has reminded us, when we come to Christ as wounded people in need of healing, all is changed.

Not long ago, Pope Francis said that, when it comes to healing, “You have to start from the ground up.” In other words, we must first accept the need for healing in our own souls, our families, our workplaces, and, yes, in our Church. Then, when we turn to Jesus and follow Him, who knows what miracles might be wrought?

When recovering from substance abuse, most seem to have learned that recovery can’t happen until one accepts that one’s own efforts have been fruitless. But this doesn’t apply only to addictions; no, it applies to all that separates us from God. As the pope said recently:

“It’s useless to think of being able to correct oneself without the gift of the Holy Spirit. It’s futile to think of purifying our heart in a titanic effort of only our will. This is not possible.”

You and I must turn away from ourselves and seek a new way to bring about the healing we need, not the healing we think we want. Until we’re ready to engage God openly and honestly as the imperfect creatures we are, we’ll never know just how close God is to us.\

God isn’t out “there” somewhere. He’s not remote, separated from us at some immeasurable distance. His love for us is so great that He humbles Himself and comes to meet us where we are. Yes, He humbles Himself, just as Jesus humbled Himself, became one of us, came to us as we are in our sinfulness. Just as He allowed that…the Cross [Phil 2:6-11].

Brothers and sisters, we have an awesome God – Father, Son, and Holy Spirit – a God who presents us with a beautiful paradox: He is a God of unimaginable greatness and indescribable humility. What’s keeping us from opening our eyes to this truth, and our hearts to His merciful Presence? Are there areas of your life, of my life, where we’d rather not be healed? Are these the very things that separate us from God? 

And so, we pray: God of Healing, God of Hope, help us to open our hearts to you and face you unafraid.

Returning again to St. Paul: If we accept that we are God’s Temple and part of its construction, the Holy Spirit dwell within us. How many, here at Mass every weekend, remain on the outside spiritually, looking in, pausing hesitantly at the Church’s threshold? We’re all members of this Temple, body and soul. Don’t settle for just observing from the threshold. To achieve healing, enter with hopeful hearts and approach the God who waits to welcome us.

Are we close to God in prayer? Or do we stand at the doorway, unsure of God’s love and forgiveness?

“Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you” [Mt 7:7].

Jesus promised this.

We pray: God of Healing, God of Hope, guide our steps across the threshold, from fear to trust, from sorrow to joy.

Do we stand at the threshold satisfied with the externals, the wrapping of the gifts before us. Like Ezekiel, we see the healing waters at the entrance of the Temple. But are we afraid to step in, to go deeper into the amazing gift of God’s grace?

In the Gospel Jesus draws near and says, “Do you want to be healed?” And to those who reply, “Yes,” He gives grace and sends them on their way. Here we see the power and depth of Jesus’ healing. 

When Jesus healed, He always healed more than the body; He forgave sins, healing the soul. When He healed the blind, He restored more than the sense of sight. He also awakened the gift of faith. And God does the same for us. Jesus offers something far greater than physical healing, for He heals both body and soul, offering us a serenity of spirit and a desire to share this gift with others. Jesus prays, and Jesus heals. He prays and heals here in His Church, as we gather in His Name.

Consider a time when your own prayer was answered, but not as you expected. That’s the gift of God’s healing at work, always surprising, blessings in marvelous disguise. It’s this grace that gives us the power to take the next step – of appreciating and offering thanksgiving for all God gives us. To open God’s gifts means accepting the responsibility to use them well. Am you and I ready to open the gifts that God offers us? 

God of Healing, God of Hope, I am as blind as the blind beggar. Help me to see your presence, to want your gift of grace!

In our humanity we demand that God see things our way, that He fix everything just as we want. But God always leads us in a different direction. He begins by forgiving our sins and healing that which so often keep us from God, He removes our fear and shame through His mercy and forgiveness. 

If we approach Him with a genuine desire to be forgiven, if we accept God’s desire to embrace us, we then begin to heal from the inside out. Jesus begins our inner healing through the sacrament of reconciliation, and through that forgiveness, He creates us anew, so we can share the good news of healing with others. 

God of Healing, God of Hope, give me the courage to face my weaknesses, to accept my failings, and to welcome your healing. Fill me with the wonder of trusting you.

Brothers and sisters, by sacrificing His life for us all, Jesus opened the doors to the heavenly paradise. And through His Resurrection, He destroyed death forever and gave us hope! He wants us to seek His healing grace.

So, let the re-creation begin here today! 

Homily: Monday, 4th Week of Easter

Reading: Acts 11:1-18; Ps 42; Jn 10:1-10
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Today is the optional memorial of Our Lady of Fatima, and how blessed we are in this parish to have our prayer warriors who pray the Rosary together here in our Church after daily Mass.

They pray for the Church, for our parish, for the intentions of our parishioners, all in response to our Blessed Mother's hope that the Rosary will be prayed daily throughout the universal Church. In doing so, they join many other parishioners who pray the Rosary daily in their families. 

Yes, we are blessed to have them.

And because Mary appeared to three shepherd children, it's also fitting that today's Gospel passage should focus on the Good Shepherd.

We hear Jesus say many remarkable things in the Gospel, but I really think far too many Christians don't seem to believe He always means exactly what He says...even when He turns to metaphors and other figures of speech.

For example, in the verse that immediately follows our Gospel passage from John, Jesus says:

"I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep" [Jn 10:11].

Now I've known only one person who could remotely be called a shepherd since he raised sheep. But I really don't think he would have sacrificed his own life for that of a lamb. For him it was simply a business and I would guess that for him an occasional lost sheep was part of the cost of doing business.

But Jesus isn't simply "a shepherd" or even "a good shepherd." No, He calls Himself "the Good Shepherd" - the one and only Good Shepherd. 

And will He really lay down His life for His sheep? Well, yes. He already did so, didn't He?  For we are His sheep; and to rescue and gather us to Himself, He paid a price, and the price was His life.

Hearing this, so many find themselves asking: Can this possibly be true? Can the Creative Word of God, the God who brought everything into existence, have such love for His creatures?

He can and He does. But not just for us as the human race, as a people, but for every single, unique one of us. 

"...the sheep hear His voice, as He calls His own sheep by name..." [Jn 10:3]

He calls us by name, every single one of us. You and I can't hide from God's love. It's simply far too great, and it reaches out to us even when we seem surrounded by darkness. It's an ineffable love, a love taken to extremes, this love of God. In fact, He takes love to such an extreme that we finally come to understand what St. John meant when he said, quite simply: "God is love" [1 Jn 4:8].

And God's love has a purpose. Recall Jesus' words:

"I am the gate for the sheep...Whoever enters through me will be saved..."  [Jn 10:7,9]

He, then, is the gateway to eternal life, to a life we cannot imagine. Here again, the metaphor describes a truth, for salvation comes only through Jesus Christ, only when we follow the Good Shepherd, only when we choose the good. In other words, He created us, not as robots programmed to respond as He desires, but in His own image and likeness, with intellect and will, able to make moral choices.

"He walks ahead of them, and the sheep follow Him, because they recognize His voice" [Jn 10:4].

To make the right choices, then, we must recognize His voice, listen to the Word, and believe in the Gospel. For like the sheep called by the shepherd, we are called by Jesus to follow:

But then Jesus says something that should cause to look more deeply within:

"I am the good shepherd, and I know mine and mine know me" [Jn 10:14].

Yes, Jesus knows His sheep, but how well do we know Him?  Do we even try to know Him, or do we simply accept what we're told and go on with our lives?

The Lateran Basilica in Rome has a remarkable and very large baptistery. And right beside the font is a statue of a deer leaning down and thirsting for a drink. Do you recall the words or today's Psalm?

"As the deer longs for streams of water, so my soul longs for you, O God" [Ps 42:2[.

At Easter we all renewed our baptismal promises, and were then sprinkled with the newly blessed baptismal water. Did we thirst for that water, that saving water?

...the living water that made us children of the Father?

...the living water that filled us with the Holy Spirit, "the Lord and Giver of life," the Holy Spirit Peter described in today's reading from Acts?

...the living water that cleansed us of sin?

...the living water that brought us into Christ's Church?

How did Jesus put it when He described His mission?

"I came so that they might have life and have it more abundantly" [Jn 10:10]

That's what Jesus wants for you and me, brothers and sisters, what we should all thirst for: a life of abundance, an eternal life in the embrace of the Good Shepherd. We need only follow Him, loving our God and our neighbor.

Statues in the Lateran, Iconoclasts, and Islam

Constantine at the Lateran

The first time Dear Diane and I traveled to Rome, during the Holy Year of 2000, the first church we entered happened to be what is commonly called the "Basilica of St. John Lateran" or simply "The Lateran." It's full, official name is quite a mouthful: the "Archbasilica of the Most Holy Savior and Saints John the Baptist and the Evangelist in the Lateran." I suspect the basilica's office receptionist uses one of the abbreviated versions when she answers the phone. The Lateran, though, probably deserves an especially long name; after all, it's the first church built for public worship in Rome, and perhaps in all of Christendom; hence, it is the mother of all churches. The original structure was built by the Emperor Constantine (306-337) in the early 4th century on land donated to Pope Miltiades (311-314). The archbasilica was officially dedicated by Pope Sylvester I in 324.

Lateran Facade

The Lateran, and not St. Peter's Basilica, is the pope's cathedral church, something many Catholics don't realize. As the cathedral of the Bishop of Rome, it is also the home of the pope's cathedra, or cathedral seat. The Lateran, therefore, takes precedence over the other three major papal basilicas of Rome: St. Peter's, St. Mary Major, and St. Paul Outside the Walls. 

Of course, the current church is very different from the church built by Constantine. Over the centuries fires and earthquakes, barbarians and wars, decay and neglect, renewal and reconstruction, and dramatic shifts in artistic expression all brought about major changes and gave us the church we see today. Anyway, I digress...

Statue of St. Peter in the Lateran

On that first visit back in 2000, I was almost knocked off my feet by the statues that line both sides of the Lateran's nave, statues of the twelve Apostles, each standing in its own niche and each larger than life. Indeed, these marvelous Baroque statues seemed almost alive, and as I moved toward the high altar from one Apostle to the next I realized how much I liked -- no, how much I needed -- a church filled with statues and other works of art. It suddenly dawned on me why I had never felt at home in those minimalist churches built back in the 1970s, buildings that tried to imitate so many bare-bones Protestant churches. To me they more closely resemble barns than churches. 

Minimalist Catholic (Cistercian) Chapel

The Baroque churches of Rome are in no way minimalist. They were constructed or renovated in a style that broke away from the classical, elegant styles of the Renaissance. In a sense they broke all the architectural rules and presented the world with an in-your-face richness designed to display the deep and varied theology of the Catholic Church. Patriarchs and prophets, archangels and cherubim, the Virgin and the Apostles, martyrs and saints, popes and bishops, friars and monks  -- all come alive and all point to Jesus Christ, leading the faithful more deeply into the church and to the altar on which the Eucharistic sacrifice is offered. It's enough to take your breath away. And I think that's exactly what the Jesuits hoped to achieve when they supported the spread of Baroque architecture in the Church. One need only visit the 16th-century Gesu, the mother church of the Society of Jesus where the Church Triumphant is on obvious display. When I first entered this church, I could do nothing but stand there agape in a vain attempt to take it all in. I simply did not know where to start, and so I didn't. I just sat down and let it fill me.

The Gesu (Jesuit Mother Church) in Rome

I give thanks to those many early popes who strongly resisted the iconoclasm of the Byzantine Empire, a movement influenced in part by the Muslims in the Middle East. In those dark days virtually all the worldly power was in the East, but the popes remained in Rome in the chair of Peter. Some, like Gregory VII and Innocent III, were powerful and influential, protecting the eternal Church from kingdoms doomed to disappear. Many others were weak, but even they resisted the attempts to strip the Church of its beauty, to make religious art something other than religious. 

Even today, some Protestant Christians still consider any religious images to be nothing more than idolatry. (A few years ago, in nearby Wildwood, Florida, a young lady working in a grocery store called me an "idol worshiper" because Catholic churches contain statues. Not particularly good public relations, but I gave her a pass.) And certain elements in Islam -- e.g., the Islamic State, the Taliban, and the religious leadership in Saudi Arabia -- have spent much effort destroying ancient historic structures, shrines, and other religious sites.

St. John Damascene, one of the last of the Early Church Fathers, lived his entire life under Muslim rule and wrote extensively against the iconoclasts. He saw iconoclasm as something indeed evil:

“Does anyone who has divine knowledge and spiritual understanding not recognize that [iconoclasm] is a ruse of the devil? For he does not want his defeat and shame to be spread abroad, nor the glory of God and his saints to be recorded.”

Yes, we can all thank the popes and saints like St. John Damascene for holding the line against the iconoclasts and allowing art to thrive in the Church. Without it, we would be much poorer and certainly much duller.

Homily: Dedication of the Lateran Basilica in Rome

Readings: Ez 47:1-2,8-9,12; Ps 46; 1 Cor 3:9-11,16-17; Jn 2:13-22

Most people think of St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome as the pope’s primary church, his cathedral, but it’s not. That honor belongs to the Basilica of St. John Lateran, for it is the pope’s church, the cathedral of the Diocese of Rome where the Bishop of Rome presides. And today we celebrate its dedication.

Interior of St. John Lateran (I took this photo in 2008)

The Ancient Church of Rome was persecuted until the Edict of Milan and the conversion of the emperor Constantine in the year 313. That was when the patrician Laterani family gave the land to the emperor for the construction of a church – hence the name, Lateran. With the building of the first Lateran church the Christians of Rome could finally enter into the Lord’s house on the Lateran Hill and worship openly in peace and joy. How wonderful it must have been for them to be able to come to a holy place and worship together.

That first Lateran church and its successors suffered fire, earthquake and the ravages of war, but remained the church where popes were consecrated. All this changed in the 14th century when the popes returned after 70 years of exile in Avignon to find the church and the adjoining palace in ruins. Up until that time to say “the Lateran” was the same as saying “the Vatican” today.

Facade of St. John Lateran (2008)

Gradually the rebuilt Lateran was overseen by the cardinal vicar who governed the Pope’s diocese in his name so the Pope could devote more time to the universal Church. The Lateran Palace became the “chancery” of Rome, housing the papal vicar along with his household and offices. But because it’s the pope’s cathedral the Lateran church or basilica is the mother church of all Catholic churches.

It was actually dedicated under the title of the “Most Holy Savior” as well as that of St. John the Baptist. Although it’s known more by this second title of St. John, its full proper name is the Patriarchal Basilica of the Most Holy Savior and Saint John the Baptist at the Lateran. Quite a mouthful for any parishioner to remember.

The Lateran is a truly imposing church, though, and one cannot help but be impressed by its towering facade crowned with 15 huge statues of Christ, John the Baptist, John the Evangelist and 12 doctors of the Church. Beneath its high altar are the remains of a small wooden table which tradition tells us was the altar used by St. Peter himself to celebrate Mass.

St. John Lateran Baptistry

Another striking feature is the baptistry, a large circular building behind the Church. It’s large because when people were baptized, whether infants or adults, the entire parish gathered for the celebration. The entrance of a new Christian into the faith was a central focus of the Church. Baptism was never considered a private ceremony.  It was and should remain a community celebration. This is why here at St. Vincent de Paul we generally celebrate baptisms at Sunday Mass.

Unlike the commemorations of other Roman churches, today’s anniversary isn’t a simple memorial; rather it’s a feast – a feast reminding us of our union with the pope, the Bishop of Rome. For the papacy is a gift from the Lord who appointed Peter and his successors to continue His presence over the other apostles and bishops as his Rock, his Vicar on earth.

Peter, the Rock, receives the keys on which Christ will build His Church

(facade of St. Peter's)

The Pope is often referred to as the Supreme Pontiff or bridge builder between God and man. Every Pope has particular gifts as well as particular human failings.  What really matters is not the individual but the charism given to the individual when he is consecrated Bishop of Rome.  It is, therefore, important to remember that our regard for the papacy shouldn’t be colored by the individual who happens to be pope at a particular time. We’ve been blessed with wonderful, dynamic leaders in Popes John Paul II and Benedict XVI. But the papacy is far greater than either man.

The union of all the Dioceses of the world with the Diocese of Rome, of all the Bishops of the Church in communion with and under the authority of the pope, the Bishop of Rome, is our assurance that we remain the Church that Jesus Christ founded on the Rock of Peter. It is only through the union of the universal Church with the Chair of Peter that the fundamentals of our faith, our liturgy, and our morality have remained the same throughout the world and through the ages.

In today’s Gospel we see Jesus cleansing the temple of defilement, showing us the importance of doing the same to His Church whenever the need arises. And so today, as we worship together in freedom to celebrate the Dedication of St. John Lateran, we thank God for our union with the Church in Rome and pray that our pope, our bishops, and all God’s people will, like Jesus, be consumed by zeal for His House.