Homily: Saturday, 8th Week in Ordinary Time

Readings: Sir 51:12-20; Ps 19; Mk 11:27-33

The conversation described by Mark took place just after Jesus had cleansed the Temple, and believe me He had upset more than the tables of money changers. He had also upset the chief priests, the Temple elders, and scribes, most of whom had a financial stake in the selling and money-changing that Jesus had stopped.

Yes, indeed, they had long been looking for ways to get rid of Jesus, ways to discredit Him, perhaps accuse Him of blasphemy, hoping He would claim in public what He had reportedly said privately. And so they ask Him by what authority He did what He did in God’s Temple. They thought they were being so very clever. How could this Jesus not answer the question? But unlike Ben-Sirach in our first reading, these men didn’t pray for wisdom before the Temple, but sought only personal gain.

Jesus, though, the very personification of divine wisdom, spoke and acted with the authority of God, and for the people who truly listen to Him, it was a liberating authority. In His wisdom Jesus asked them a question they wouldn’t answer because their primary concern was not the truth but their own welfare and interests.

But all authority isn’t always easy to accept. I remember, years ago, when I was a new junior officer in my Navy aircraft squadron. On my first day, assigned as a division officer of the avionics division – all the electronics technicians who maintain all the radios, radars, and associated electronics – I called all the enlisted troops together. I went around the room, asking each about their specialties, and what they liked and disliked about their work.

The discussion went well, until one young petty officer asked, “Why should we listen to you? What do you know about avionics?” I just shrugged and said, “I know enough. I have a degree in electrical engineering, so I’ll understand all the technical stuff. But more importantly, I’ll support you all, all the way up the line, as long as you’re straight with me. Our commanding officer has given me the authority to lead this division, but if you undermine me, if you don’t listen to me, things probably won’t go very well.” Not a long speech, and as a young 25-year-old, I held my breath. There was no mutiny, so it seemed to work. Perhaps one of my better days...there have been others with different endings.

I suppose, when it comes to authority, the real issue for all of us, is who or what will we accept as our authority. You and I have to respond to a lot of different human authorities – to law enforcement and judges, to elected leaders, to all kinds of people who exert authority in limited ways over little pieces of our lives.

But to whom do we listen when it comes to the truly important things of life?

The Gospels assure us that Jesus embodies the authentic authority of God, as I said, a liberating authority that empowers us to become fully human and fully alive. Only by accepting the authority of God, an authority He has given to His Church, can we live truly happy and fulfilled lives.

Remember how, at Caesarea Philippi, Jesus extended God’s authority to Peter:

“And so I say to you, you are Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church, and the gates of the netherworld shall not prevail against it. I will give you the keys to the kingdom of heaven. Whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven; and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven” [Mt 16:18-19].

I’m pretty sure Peter didn’t realize exactly what Jesus had just given him, but in time he would come to understand the extent of it all.

But do you know something? That Church Jesus gave Peter is our Church, and it possesses the full authority of God Himself. How blessed we are to know that, when the Church speaks on faith and morals, we don’t just hear the words of men, but we are listening to the very authority of God Himself.

And how sad for those priests, and scribes, and elders that they rejected this authority that came from the very mouth of God Himself.

Homily: Saturday, 20th Week in Ordinary Time

Readings: Ez 43:1- • Ps 85 • Mt 23:1-12

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Today we celebrate St. Bernard of Clairvaux, a 12^th-century monk who had a powerful influence on the Cistercian reform of the Benedictines. He never turned away from conflict and criticized the Benedictines for their wealth and what he considered their lax spiritual life. He also received a lot of after-the-fact, and probably unfair, criticism for his strong support of the Second Crusade, an effort that ended in disaster.

But despite all this, he had a very positive impact on the Church during those challenging times. He was also a true mystic, and his writings, especially his work on the Love of God, are still widely read today. Indeed, we told that Pope John XXIII read from St. Bernard’s work every evening.

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When we hear Jesus castigating the Pharisees and Scribes, we must be wary of the tendency to believe His words were aimed solely at those men whom Jesus encountered so often.

But what Jesus has to say in this passage shouldn’t be thought of only as a diatribe against people in the past, those nasty Scribes and Pharisees. Doing so, we forget that it’s for our benefit and reflection that these words of Jesus have been included in the Gospel. Indeed, the same attitudes were found among the early Christians just as they are all too common today. Yes, the Gospels were written to us and for us.

We must also realize Jesus wasn't attacking every Scribe and every Pharisee. Afer all, they included many good men, just and honest men like Gamaliel (Acts 5) and Nicodemus (Jn 3). Jesus is really attacking wrong attitudes that are behind the hypocrisy and sinfulness so common then and now.

He turns first to those in authority, and challenges them to practice what they preach. He sees through their open hypocrisy, that "all their works are performed to be seen" [Mt 23:5], that they relish the attention and honors they receive.

Hearing these words of Our Lord, I'm forced to look at myself and examine my own attitudes. Of course, we deacons don't pack a lot of authority, and that's as it should be. The very meaning of our title is "servant." But maybe that's the problem. After all, how often do I remind myself that I am called only to serve?

I hear Jesus' words about relishing "greetings in the marketplaces, and the salutation 'Rabbi'" [Mt 23:7]. Now I'm no rabbi, but I can hardly go to Publix without someone greeting me as "Deacon" and too often saying nice things about me. Do I relish these greetings? It's hard not to, so I usually ask the other to pray for me and the ministry to which God has called me, reminding myself that His call and all that comes with it is undeserved. It's still hard, until God, in His own unique way, humbles me. He does that a lot.

How about you? do you really accept, as Jesus reminds us, that we are all brothers and sisters in Christ, adopted children of the Father? Do we accept that any differences among us, any human achievements (all that human "greatness") and any talents -- that these are all gifts, that none of us is greater than another. For as Jesus commands:

"The greatest among you must be your servant. Whoever exalts himself will be humbled; but whoever humbles himself will be exalted” [Mt 23:11-12].

If we pay attention to our reading from the prophet Ezekiel, perhaps we can better understand this command. After all, when placed in God’s presence, as Ezekiel was, it’s hard not to be humbled. Ezekiel was reminded that God, despite the sinfulness of His people, remain with them always. Once again, the covenant is renewed. And it’s renewed again and again, but it’s never God who breaks it, for God is merciful and forgiving. The final covenant, the New Covenant, will be made through Jesus Christ, the Incarnate Son of God, Who pours out His blood for the love of us all.

As we learn from Ezekiel, the glory of the Lord is always ready to enter our lives, if only we humble ourselves before Him. We are called, then, to follow the example of Our Lord. We are called to humble ourselves just as He did – our God Who emptied Himself to become one of us.

Today He humbles Himself further as He comes to us, Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity, but in the simple form of bread and wine so we may take Him to us, that our God may reside within us: the Son, in the Father, through the Spirit.

We are on our way, brothers and sisters. But we must become the Church of the meek, a Church of the humble that approaches God in repentance. It’s what we’re called to do. God allows us, the faithful, to “start afresh…from the beginning,” to forgive sinners and embrace and console the innocents, to share the Good News, and do so in faith, in humility, and in love.

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
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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: Saturday, 8th Week of Ordinary Time

Readings: Jude 17, 20b-25; Ps 63; Mk 11:27-33

Authority’s a strange commodity, isn’t it? To borrow a line from the late Supreme Court Justice Potter Stewart: I might not be able to define it, but I know it when I see it.

Yes, you see it when the deputy fills your review mirror with that flashing light; you pull over and stop. You accept the authority granted to him by the citizens of Sumter County who voted his boss into office.

Authority in your rear-view mirror

During my years as a Navy pilot, I was occasionally ordered to do some rather scary things. But my commanding officer was a link in a chain-of-command, a chain of authority, that extended to the president and beyond him to the sovereign people of the United States. And so I obeyed.

But if my U. S. senator had called and ordered me to fly some mission, I’d have to tell him, “Sorry, Senator, I know you’re an important guy, but you’re a legislator. You’re not in my chain of command.” In the same way you wouldn’t feel obligated to stop if the mailman pulled up behind you and flashed his lights. All authority has its limits, doesn’t it? Well, all human authority has limits.

In today’s Gospel passage from Mark, we find Jesus approached by some very important people: “the chief priests, the scribes, and the elders” [Mk 11:27]. Quite a group, brimming over with all kinds of authority; probably a contingent sent by the Sanhedrin, the Jews’ supreme religious authority. And what did they want?

Who gave you this authority?

They wanted to know how Jesus could speak with such authority, especially since He wasn’t one of them. Who gave you this authority? We certainly didn’t.

It’s interesting that in all three synoptic Gospels – Matthew, Mark and Luke – we find the people remarking that Jesus “taught them as one having authority, but not as their scribes” [Mt 11:29]. Do you think that, maybe, the scribes had heard these comments? A little resentment, perhaps a touch of jealousy?

Jesus, not yet willing to reveal Himself fully, like a good rabbi, responds to their question with a question. If they can answer His question, He’ll answer theirs. And then He asks them, “Was John’s baptism of heavenly or of human origin?” [Mk 11:30]

Did you notice their little discussion? They weigh the likely results of the two possible replies, but they never discuss simply answering the question truthfully. Truth is never an option when sin enters the human heart.

“We do not know” [Mk 11:33], they finally say – a dishonest response, a selfish, face-saving response. And so Jesus tells them nothing of His authority.

Jesus’ answer to their question will come later when He ultimately reveals the source and extent of his authority. Indeed, we receive this revelation in the words spoken by Jesus immediately before He ascends to the Father. They’re the very last verses of Matthew’s Gospel:

“All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. 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. And behold, I am with you always, until the close of the age” [Mt 28:18-20].

What are we to make of this?

First of all: “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me.”  And the source? Why it's the Trinity itself, from Father, Son and Holy Spirit. You will baptize all nations on earth in their name.


All those people who had heard Jesus and marveled at His authority recognized that it was something special. And indeed it was. It came from within Him, from His intimate relationship with Father and Spirit.

But what kind of authority? “All authority in heaven and on earth...” That pretty much covers the waterfront, doesn’t it? Jesus is telling us that His authority knows no bounds, but He’s also reminding us that all human authority has its source in Him. How did the psalmist put it?

“You have given him rule over the works of your hands, put all things at his feet” [Ps 8:7].

The human authorities in Jerusalem didn’t remember that their limited authority came from God. Let’s pray that those in power today recognize the true source of their authority.

And today, as we honor the Blessed Mother on this last Saturday of May, we should realize that she certainly recognized the full authority of her Son. The last words Mary speaks in the Bible sum it up well: “Do whatever He tells you” [Jn 2:5] -- no limits, no exceptions. 

Let's pray today that these words of Mary move us and move the world to accept the authority of Jesus Christ.