Homilies

Today instead of attempting to explain the mystery of the Trinity, a truth we cannot yet fully grasp, I want to share some relevant reflections on my mind lately.

Thirty-six years ago I was ordained. I left behind a passion I much enjoyed to bring the Eucharist and the love of God to fellow Catholics. I considered becoming a librarian or a lawyer, but I felt called to be a priest instead. Many times while in the seminary I wondered if I was doing the right thing but I was continually encouraged to hang in there.

I don’t regret being ordained. I love celebrating Mass, even on my days off, preaching God’s word as best I can and that isn’t always easy. Sometimes I feel called to be prophetic, much to the chagrin of some who are listening.

I feel blessed to be a part of many families over the years, warmly accepted and welcomed into their lives, sharing a meal especially in their homes. Thank you for inviting me.

As a priest, I have been privileged to be with families at times of great joy, like baptisms, first communions, at confirmations for our youth to hear them say “yes” to continuing their faith journey, at the Easter Vigil to welcome the newest members of our faith, and at weddings to hear couples promise to administer the sacrament of marriage to each other in good times and bad until death do they part. Unfortunately that doesn’t happen for every couple so sometimes, I find myself helping someone heal through an annulment. At moments like these, I know I stand in the presence of our triune God.

I am awed and honored to be with you at moments of great pain like a grave illness administering the sacrament of the sick, praying for God to bring healing or to be there when a loved one is dying to help others deal with loss. The death and burial of members of our parish community is painful.  I look through old parish directories and reflect on the joy that past parishioners brought to my life and yours.

The challenge of being a pastor is daunting at times. As the saying goes, you can please some of the people some of the time, but you cannot please all the people all of the time. That was true in my past careers and it remains true today.

At times I fell short of living up to the expectations some had of me, so they left the parish. Today I say to you whom I may have hurt, I am sorry because no matter how much that was not intended, it still happened. I am human and I have my shortcomings. To all of you who have sustained me in my years of ministry here and helped me to grow, I thank you.

I sometimes reminisce, looking at cards written by people whose lives I have touched and recalling the many ways I have been touched, loved, challenged and consoled by you. Again, I say thank you. Together we demonstrate the truth of our triune God, who simply put, is love.

My heart aches at the changes our parish has dealt with since the pandemic began. Some who once gathered here to worship no longer do. They are missed.  Hopefully they haven’t drifted away from the faith and will again join us in worship.

In the Gospel, Jesus tells his disciples, “I have much to tell you but you cannot bear it now.” He then tells us that the Spirit will guide us to all truth. Two thousand years later many professed Christians still cannot bear to hear the truth.

And what might that be? What is he asking of us? Jesus continually challenges us to build the kingdom of God; doing so enables God to demonstrate love for us but for that to happen, we have to earnestly examine our priorities in life. Dietrich Bonhoeffer once said, “Your ‘yes’ to God requires your ‘no’ to all injustice, to all evil, to all lies, to all oppression and violation of the weak and the poor.”

Irate parishioners have rebuked me for talking politics but preachers don’t get to stay out of politics. We are either chaplains of empire or prophets of God. Prophets irk listeners whose values and priorities distract them from building God’s kingdom here and now. Despite the risk of offending some, I speak out against evil and will continue to do so to enable us to build God’s kingdom here and now.

Why do I take this risk? Because love demands that we do so. The model of love we profess as Christians is God, three persons in one. Father, who cannot exist without his son; the son who cannot exist without his father, and the Spirit who is the bond of love that binds them together as one.

If we are to live our lives with any sense of purpose and meaning, we have to be willing to pay whatever price we must to uphold what we believe in, for the truth we hold dear. To sacrifice our values out of fear for our career, our reputation, or our safety is to render our lives shallow and meaningless. Christ calls his disciples, including us, to embrace the Gospel with not a mumbled “yes,” but whole-heartedly.  

Admittedly, the truth Jesus speaks of can make us uncomfortable and squirm given the culture we live in. The truth passed on to us by the Spirit can demand a response from us that is costly, as any saint will tell you, but then Jesus never said that being one of his disciples would be an easy undertaking.

When historians rank events of history, they ponder what most influenced the course of world events. To narrow the list down to 100 historical events can be challenging. There is no one way to measure the relative importance of any moment but one criteria to consider are those events that impacted more people over a longer period of time.

Some of the biggest moments began with words or gestures that touched off a new way of thinking, such as the signing of the Declaration of Independence on July 4, 1776. Others began as small and unrecorded incidents, like the invention of the wheel or the start of farming or most recently the emergence of the Covid19 virus in rural China.

Pentecost commemorates an event that could very well be considered among the most significant events in history. On that day, Luke tells us in the Acts of the Apostles, “When the time for Pentecost had been fulfilled, they were all in one place together.” The Holy Spirit descended on the disciples and the Church was born. From that day forward, the Church impacted the lives of people in nearly every corner of the world. Without a doubt the Holy Spirit was and remains influential in shaping world history.

Pentecost was an annual major Jewish feast, back then, a thanksgiving celebration that combined gratitude for the year’s harvest with a gratitude for the Sinai covenant. This feast occurred fifty days after Passover, hence the name, Pentecost.

Jews from all over gathered for this great Jewish feast in Jerusalem. They spoke many different languages. Humanity had become fragmented, divided, split into groups, different from one another. The Holy Spirit on Pentecost aimed to reverse that situation.

The people speaking different languages were astounded. They understood what they were hearing. They were transformed by the apostles’ message, who themselves had been transformed from being a confused group of human beings into a courageous body of Christian believers.

This band of believers became a single body of witnesses, which we now call the Church. Hence, we think of this feast as the birthday of the Church. The Christian movement that began that day spread so quickly that within three decades its influence was felt in faraway Rome.

What began on Pentecost 2000 years ago was left for us to complete now. During the pandemic, we could not gather as a congregation in church, so the Church adapted to the changing times, ever mindful that we are church wherever we are.  As the Body of Christ, we take on an active role, each in our own way, of living the Gospel. This mission is more critical today than ever.

Jesus is speaking to us just as readily as he spoke to the disciples in the upper room on the eve of Pentecost. “Peace be with you. Receive the Holy Spirit. Whose sins you forgive are forgiven them, and whose sins you retain are retained.” Those are reassuring words we need to hear.

Peace is the message we are to announce to our wounded world. Peace is the promise that Pentecost proclaims. Peace is not the absence of war. Rather, peace that Jesus offers is a unity of mind, heart and will to live in the manner that God urges us to live. True peace is what Jesus came to establish on earth but we are slow to put into practice his lessons of love, compassion, and humility. His peace emerges when people come together with mutual understanding, respect and forgiveness for one another. This peace cannot be fostered unless we die to sin and what divides us.

We convey the Gospel to others by what we say and do and the values we hold. The Spirit gives us the power to boldly proclaim our faith yet how willingly do we stand up for its values in the face of social or political opposition? The power of the Spirit enabled countless Christians to do just that in the past and empowers us to do so today.

Elsewhere in his letters, Paul notes, “God has not given us the Spirit of fear, but of power, love and a sound mind.” This is the Spirit that came upon the disciples on Pentecost and this is the Spirit we are personally blessed with through our baptism and confirmation.

Those of us who witnessed Vatican II know well that the Holy Spirit is a disruptive force, constantly challenging the status quo and prodding us to do more toward making the kingdom of God a reality. But disruptive does not mean destructive for the Spirit is also a creative force, constantly remaking things anew. Lest anyone here still thinks that their presence and participation in the life of this Catholic community does not matter, I invite you to reflect on what Amado Nervo, a Mexican poet, said a century ago:

Alone we are only a spark, but in the Spirit we are a fire.

Alone we are only string, but in the Spirit, we are a lyre.

Alone we are only an anthill, but in the Spirit, we are a mountain.

Alone we are only a drop, but in the Spirit, we are a fountain.

Alone we are only a feather, but in the Spirit, we are a wing.

Alone we are only a beggar, but in the Spirit, we are a king.

There is a legend about the ascension that comes to mind in light of these readings. When Jesus reached heaven, his body still showed the wounds of the passion. Upon seeing him, the angel Gabriel said, “Lord, how greatly you suffered on earth! Do all the people there know and appreciate how much you love them and what you did for them?”

Jesus replied, “Oh, no, Gabriel. Not yet. Only a handful of people in Palestine know that. The rest haven’t even heard of me yet. Thy don’t even know who I am or how much I love them.” Gabriel was stunned. “Then what will you do to let everyone know of your great love for them?”

Jesus said, “Before I left, I told Peter, Andrew, James, John, and a few of their friends to tell the rest of the world for me. They will tell as many people as they can. Those people, in turn, will tell others. In that way, the whole world will eventually learn about my great love for them.”

Gabriel knew how finicky, forgetful and doubtful people could be, so he protested, “But Lord, what if they grow tired or frustrated? What if they call it quits? What if they begin to have doubts about you? And even if they don’t, what if the people they tell become skeptical or have doubts about your message? Do you have a back up plan, just in case?” Jesus answered, “Gabriel, I haven’t made any other plans. I am counting on them not to let me down.” 

Twenty centuries later, Jesus still has no other plan. He counted on Peter and the apostles along with the other disciples whom he personally taught when he walked the hills of Judea and they didn’t let him down. He counted on the people they told and they didn’t let him down. He counted on Paul and he didn’t let him down. Soon in every corner of the world people were hearing the Good News. Today Jesus is counting on you and me to continue to proclaim the Good News of God’s love and forgiveness.

These readings remind us that we are commissioned to continue Jesus’ work on earth, just as the apostles did. We are to be his hands and feet in today’s world. God calls each and every one of us to evangelize, that is, share the Good News of Jesus Christ.

The notion of evangelizing may seem intimidating, yet Jesus was speaking to us just as much as he was speaking to the apostles when he said, “You will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you, and you will be my witnesses… to the ends of the earth.”  By what we say and do, we can support his cause for following his way of living. We preach the values of Christ best by our good example.

In his letter to the Ephesians, Paul prays that the followers of Jesus may receive wisdom and revelation resulting in knowledge of Jesus. Think of Jesus as a mystery; we will never fully know our Lord but our awareness of him is deepened each time we seek to better understand him through prayer, scripture, and spiritual readings. As you do so, the eyes of your heart will be enlightened to the beauty of Christ’s blueprint for making this a better world.

In the gospel, Jesus promises his followers that they will be clothed with power from on high by the Holy Spirit, that same power we receive at our baptism.  Jesus knows that sharing the Good News isn’t a task we can do single-handedly.

Perhaps the idea of being an evangelist may still seem overwhelming to you but the bottom line is this: Jesus is counting on us to live out the Good News in our daily lives. We begin by preaching Jesus to ourselves, how is he calling us to live our lives? Then doing what we can to make the kingdom of God real here and now.

The mass shootings in Buffalo and Uvalde along with the war in Ukraine, have claimed many innocent lives and left many more grieving; a stark reminder that there is still much unrest and violence in our world, which aches for peace and forgiveness.

Jesus proclaims, “Thus it is written…that repentance, for the forgiveness of sins, would be preached in his name…” We all stand in need of forgiveness. Are we convinced that our sins are forgiven? Are we willing to forgive, a promise we make whenever we say the Lord’s Prayer? Jesus is calling on us to practice the art of forgiveness.

An old Chinese proverb says well what I believe many of us yearn for deep down in our hearts. “If there is right in the soul, there will be beauty in the person. If there is beauty in the person, there will be harmony in the home. If there is harmony in the home, there will be order in the nation. If there is order in the nation, there will be peace in the world.”

When we live in the manner that Christ calls us to do, his message of repentance and love has a rippling effect on the world around us. If enough Christians dared to live this way, that ripple of love and forgiveness will turn into a tidal wave that can change the face of the earth forever.

Such is the message of the Ascension. Jesus Christ has entrusted to us the same sacred responsibility of sharing with others everything he taught and revealed to the apostles. In our time and place he is counting on us to our part in making this a better world.

“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you.” Jesus offers us peace yet we live in a world is still yearning for peace. Has Jesus failed to keep his promise or is the peace he offers us not what we are yearning for?

What did Jesus mean by his gift of peace? Certainly not the obvious, namely, a world free of conflict. The absence of bloodshed does not mean that true peace has entered the hearts of former enemies. The guns may be silent for now in the Holy Land, but that does not mean peace exists there between the Israelis and their Arab neighbors. Few of us have ever served in combat but we may have embattled relationships in our lives that deny us any sense of peace.

To better understand what Jesus is offering us, we need to contrast our perception of peace with the biblical notion of peace that Jesus has in mind. We think of peace as the absence of conflict but the peace that Jesus speaks of is “shalom,” a Hebrew word that is not easy to translate. Imagine Jesus saying to us, “Shalom I leave with you; my shalom I give to you. May you be in harmony, not only with nature, but with yourself, with others, and with God.”

True peace comes when we carry out our responsibilities and obligations to others, which is why Jesus asserts that anyone who loves him will keep his word. True peace comes from loving God and knowing that God loves us. Convinced of that, we then order our lives around God’s will instead of ours and use God’s wisdom, provided by the Holy Spirit, as the ultimate source for making our daily decisions.

Keep in mind that Jesus is sharing this prayer with his apostles hours before Judas betrays him. He knows the end is near and yet he is at peace with himself and what is about to happen. Far from being fearful or distressed, Jesus is in harmony with the world around him. He will do what few of us dare to do; he surrenders himself totally to God.

Last Sunday, Pope Francis canonized some saints. Among them was Charles de Foucauld, a hermit and priest who was assassinated on December 1, 1916 in southern Algeria.  He is best remembered for a prayer he wrote that begins, “Father, I abandon myself into your hands; do with me what you will. Whatever you may do, I thank you: I am ready for all, I accept all….into your hands I commend my soul; I offer it to you with all the love of my heart for I love you Lord…”

Imagine how different our world would be if this was our conscious prayer. Would sin have a chance to invade our lives? Could racism, prejudice, malice, or bigotry fester in our hearts if indeed we commended our souls to the Lord?

Years ago I read a story that reminds me that any search for peace begins within us. A knight once traveled a long distance to see a wise man and upon arriving, he asked, “Sir, tell me, what are heaven and hell really like?”

Tell me about yourself first,” the sage replied. The knight proudly replied, “I am an officer of the Emperor’s elite personal guard.” “Nonsense!” the wise man retorted, “What kind of emperor would have you around him? To me you appear just like a fool!” The knight, insulted by that comment, reached for his sword. “Oh, ho!” laughed the sage, “So you have a long sword. I suppose it’s much too dull to cut off my head.”

The knight could not contain himself any longer. He angrily drew his sword and threatened the wise man, who calmly replied, “Now you know half the answer. You are opening the gates of hell.” The officer hesitated, lowered his sword, and bowed in respect to the sage. “Now you know the other half,” the wise man said. “You have opened the gates of heaven.”

I would venture to say that we all have a good idea how to open the gates to both heaven and hell. Sooner or later vanity will give us a good inkling of what hell is like. If we focus largely on ourselves, then the odds are that, like the knight, we haven’t much peace within us. On the other hand, reaching out to others with love gives us a taste of the peace Jesus has in mind for his followers. If love is what motivates us through the day, then we have a taste of heaven.

Love motivates me to speak out against evil at the risk of offending some listeners, just as Jesus did at times.

Jesus told his apostles he was going away but that didn’t mean God would be absent from their lives. He promised to send the Holy Spirit to instruct them in everything. This he has done and the Church has consequently grown through the years since then but are we listening? When in our pride, fear, or eagerness to control others, we refuse to open ourselves to hearing God’s will, we forfeit his gift of peace.

Archbishop Fulton Sheen once commented, “Nice people must see themselves as nasty people before they can find peace.” God’s gift of peace comes when we open our hearts to God, as St. Charles de Foucauld did and be willing to listen to the wisdom of the Holy Spirit who could very well challenge us to let go of those attitudes that hinder us from finding the inner peace we are yearning for.

Picture the scene in today’s Gospel. It is Holy Thursday and Jesus is celebrating his last supper with the apostles. Often gatherings over a meal close with parting words. That is what we just heard. Washing the apostles’ feet, Jesus had done the unthinkable. When he was done, he admonished them, “I have set for you an example, that you also should do as I have done for you.” At the end of their meal, he told them, “This is how all will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”

We think of Jesus as the epitome of love. He loves us unconditionally and for good reason he gives us a new commandment, one not written among the ten given to Moses. “Love one another.”

The Eucharist is also the epitome of love. Jesus loved us so much that he died on the cross, a cruel and painful death at the hands of unloving men, so that we could forever experience his presence in the Eucharist. For nearly two thousand years, Catholics have gathered to listen to what St. Justin called the memoirs of the apostles and to partake of the Eucharist. What we believe today was believed early on in the shadow of Jesus’ earthly life.

At the Last Supper with his parting words Jesus made a connection between the Eucharist and love. The Eucharist cannot have much meaning unless we are filled with love and receive the Eucharist with love.

To non-believers, the host is simply a flat tasteless piece of wheat mixed with flour but to the believer, the consecrated host is Jesus Christ himself. How does that host become what we call the real presence of Jesus Christ?

During the Last Supper, Jesus told his disciples, “This is my body.” Those words have been spoken repeatedly to this day at every Mass. A skeptic might dismiss that claim since the host doesn’t change its appearance or taste. I am not a theologian but I invite you to consider the world around us. If out of nothing, God created all that exists from the ants in your yard to the furthest galaxies, who are we to limit what God can do?

Here we are in the midst of the Easter season, celebrating the resurrection of Jesus. Unlike Lazarus, he wasn’t resuscitated from the dead. In his risen glory, Jesus became a new being. He wasn’t a ghost yet he could come and go, passing through locked doors and appearing to many believers at the same time.

In his divine being, Jesus becomes present to us in the bread and wine that is consecrated; hence we call this the real presence. Some view the Eucharist only as a symbol, yet Jesus told his apostles, “The bread that I will give is my flesh for the life of the world.” That is the epitome of sacrifice.

The apostles and early believers understood this upfront. They took Jesus literally. Paul often reiterates that belief in the Eucharist in his letters and so did early Church Fathers like St. Justin. They could see that Jesus, transformed on Easter, continues to transform our gifts of bread and wine into his very being, his flesh and blood.

A change in the substance is what occurs. This is an act of faith on our part, fueled by love. Not romantic love, but love of compassion, what the Greeks called agape, a self-giving love. Jesus focused on the needs of his followers, giving his life for their sake and ours. He invites us to view love in the same way. This love is freely given without counting the cost and without expecting anything in return.

The Eucharist is often called Holy Communion for good reason. Communion denotes community. As a community of believers we share a common belief in Jesus and a concern for one another. Being a follower of Christ isn’t a solitary journey between you and Christ. Rather together we journey toward Christ, endeavoring to make real the kingdom of God in this lifetime out of love for others. We know from our experiences what love enables us to do.

Just as the Eucharist is deeply rooted in our liturgical tradition, love is deeply rooted in our relationship with God. Without love, God would not exist, nor would we. The opposite of agape, the love Jesus speaks of, is selfishness, which creates barriers between others and us and between God and us. What frees us from this captivity is having deep affection and concern for others. Being friends, being caring, being civil, being thoughtful, being considerate frees us from the prison of selfishness. No one can be a friend of Jesus who does not love his neighbor.

Love demands the best of us and brings out the best in us. Being loved gives us the courage and energy to love. Consider the lives of the saints. They knew Christ loved them. They felt that love whenever they received the Eucharist, which in turn empowered them to make a difference in making the kingdom of God real. Love is what enables God to dwell with us. Jesus makes that real, telling us, “Behold, I make all things new.”

Elizabeth Kubler Ross once said, “Love is the flame that warms our soul, energizes our spirit and supplies passion to our lives. It is our contract with God and to one another.”