|
Fr. Ray Clark |
|
Chaplain
of St. Joseph Monastery |
FEAST OF THE PRECIOUS BLOOD 2009
The American
novelist Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. idealized the volunteer fireman. For him the
volunteer fireman represents what is most noble in the human spirit, a
willingness to risk one’s life for the good of others while receiving nothing in
return. While it is hard to argue about the nobility of the volunteer fireman,
my vote for the most noble person goes to the blood
donor. The blood donor gives of him or herself for the good of
others while receiving perhaps a T-shirt in return.
And so today as we celebrate the feast of the Most Precious Blood of Jesus, I would like to reflect on the blood donor as one means to appreciate the mystery of the Precious Blood. What is unique about the blood donor is that he or she gives life, for without blood, there is no life. This is why the ancients sacrificed the blood of animals – because they saw the precious nature of blood – and to offer blood is to offer life.
My own experience of donating blood dates from my time on the skid row of Los Angeles. On skid row, as in many poor neighborhoods, there are plasma banks where a person may donate plasma up to two times a week for money. It is ironic that those who are poorest and have the greatest need of nutrition are giving of themselves in what demands the most nutrition. The Catholic Worker, of which I was a part, advocated donating blood as an alternative to the plasma banks. And every two weeks we would donate blood.
The classic study on blood donation is entitled, “The Gift Relationship.” Does not that title describe a covenant relationship, where the persons give themselves for the good of someone who has nothing to offer in return?
Donating blood is a mundane affair. The stick of the needle hurts as it enters the vein and then for a short period of time a pint of blood drains from one’s arm. But what results from this mundane activity is the gift of life for someone who is in need of blood, from an auto accident or from a demanding surgery. By donating blood one shares life.
As we look at the sacrifice of Jesus’ blood
we must enter into another world – the world of sacrifice.
Over
the past week the Office of Readings in the Liturgy of the Hours has stood out
for me, in particular the readings from the Fathers of the Church. Each of
these readings from the Fathers could stand as the reading for Pentecost
Sunday. The Church has given us a variety of readings from the Fathers of the
Church to instruct us about the coming of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost. I would
like to review these readings to savor their meanings. We will be taking a
“cut-and-paste” approach.
The first reading is Monday’s reading by St. Cyril of Jerusalem. St. Cyril asks: “Why did Christ call the grace of the Spirit water?" Because all things are dependent on water . . . Water comes down from heaven as rain, and although it is always the same in itself, it produces many different effects, one in the palm tree, another in the vine, and so on throughout the whole of creation. It does not come down, now as one thing, now as another, but while remaining essentially the same, it adapts itself to the needs of every creature that receives it.
“In the same way the Holy Spirit, whose nature is always the same . . . apportions grace to each man as he wills. The Spirit strengthens one man’s self-control, shows another how to help the poor, teaches another to fast and lead a life of asceticism, makes another oblivious to the needs of the body, trains another for martyrdom. His action is different in different people, but the Spirit himself is always the same. In each person, Scripture says, the Spirit reveals his presence in a particular way for the common good.”
Tuesday’s reading is by St. Basil the Great. He describes the Spirit in this way: “The whole of the Spirit’s being is present to each individual; the whole of his being is present everywhere. Though shared by many, he remains unchanged; his self-giving is no loss to himself. Like the sunshine, which permeates all the atmosphere, spreading over land and sea, and yet is enjoyed by each person as though it were for him alone, so the Spirit pours forth his grace in full measure, sufficient for all, and yet is present as though exclusively to everyone who can receive him.
“As clear, transparent substances become very bright when sunlight falls on them and shine with a new radiance, so also souls in whom the Spirit dwells, and who are enlightened by the Spirit, become spiritual themselves and a source of grace for others.”
St. Basil lived before the time of stained glass, but his second analogy reminds me of how the sun shines through the stained glass and radiates color and warmth.
Thursday’s reading is by Saint Cyril of Alexandria. He says: “ . . . The Spirit changes those in whom he comes to dwell. He so transforms them that they begin to live a completely new kind of life. Saul was told by the prophet Samuel: ‘The Spirit of the Lord will take possession of you, and you shall be changed into another man.’
Does this not show that the Spirit changes those in whom he comes to dwell and alters the whole pattern of their lives? With the Spirit within them it is quite natural for people who have been absorbed by the things of this world to become entirely otherworldly in outlook, and for cowards to become men of great courage. There can be no doubt that this is what happened to the disciples. The strength they received from the Spirit enabled them to hold firmly to the love of Christ, facing the violence of their persecutors unafraid.”
Saturday’s reading is by an African author of the sixth century. This author says: “At Pentecost the disciples spoke in the language of every nation. God chose this means to indicate the presence of the Holy Spirit: Whoever had received the Spirit spoke in every kind of tongue . . . And as individual men who received the Holy Spirit in those days could speak in all kinds of tongues, so today the Church, united by the Holy Spirit, speaks in the language of every people.
“Therefore, if somebody should say to one of us, “You have received the Holy Spirit, why do you not speak in tongues?, his reply should be, ‘I do indeed speak in the tongues of all men, because I belong to the body of Christ, that is, the Church, and she speaks all languages. What else did the presence of the Holy Spirit indicate at Pentecost, except that God’s Church was to speak in the language of every people’.”
Then there is today’s reading by Saint t Irenaeus, who says: “Like dry flour, which cannot become one lump of dough, one loaf of bread, without moisture, we who are many could not become one in Christ Jesus without the water that comes down from heaven.”
And so the Fathers employ simple elements to speak of the Spirit: water, flour, sunlight, and words. These elements are sacramental and the Fathers speak of the change they undergo to speak of the work of the Spirit. For the Spirit is fire and it transforms these elements.s.
Saint Paul says: “As we behold the glory of the Lord with unveiled faces, that glory, which comes from the Lord who is the Spirit, transforms us all into his own likeness, from one degree of glory to another.” Truly our spirits are the elements which the Spirit transforms, so that, as St. Basil says, “ . . . we acquire a likeness to God; indeed, we attain what is beyond our most sublime aspirations – we become God.”
Our Lady
of the Rosary
Homily on the Feast of the Holy Rosary-October
7, 2006, the 60th
anniversary of the founding of St. Joseph Monastery
Gospel: Luke 1: 26-38
In our gospel today we hear Luke's story of the Annunciation to Mary. As we know, there is a second annunciation story. Matthew's gospel tells the story of the Annunciation to Joseph. And as we celebrate the sixtieth anniversary of your founding, both accounts of the annunciation shed light on this day.
Your last newsletter recounts the story of the founding of this monastery from the monastery in Scranton. Because of an abundance of vocations there, that community wanted to form another monastery. Mother Mary Agnes Roche wanted to found the new monastery in Boston or in Camden, New Jersey. Both those places already had monasteries of contemplative nuns, and the bishops were not interested in others. And so the question: where to found this monastery? Mother Mary Agnes turned to St. Joseph and placed the future of the new monastery in his hands.
And isn't that what Joseph himself did as he learned that Mary, his betrothed, was pregnant and he knew that he was not the father. An angel appeared to him in a dream and instructed him to take Mary as his wife, that the child she carried was of the Holy Spirit; he was to give the child the name Jesus. Joseph did all that was asked of him. Joseph accepted the will of God as it was revealed to him in the events of his life.
Throughout the life of this monastery St. Joseph has truly been your patron - both in name and in deed. He has provided, through the generosity of many people, for all your needs.
Certainly moving the monastery to Whitesville was an act of faith. And as the new building split apart, you agonized just as Joseph agonized over Mary's pregnancy and as his family fled to Egypt as refugees. Joseph continued to protect you and provide. And so this monastery since its inception has been connected to Joseph.
And then we have Luke's account of the annunciation to Mary. Each of you, sisters, has experienced an annunciation like that of Mary, as God called you to this place. God has drawn each of you here. Perhaps you resisted the call or shrank from the call, as Mary did in her conversation with the angel. 'How can this be? Are you sure?' Each of you has experienced this annunciation, this calling - and each of you, like Mary, has responded: Fiat, let it be done to me, according to your word.
Each of you continues to experience this call, this annunciation in your lives. As God continues to call you each day, to stand at the foot of the cross of his Son.
And so both the annunciation stories shed light on the life of this monastery and on your lives. God gives you Joseph protect you and provide for you, and Mary guide you with her loving care.
Chastity for the Sake
of the Kingdom! Homily on the Feast
of St. Agnes
It has been said that courage is each virtue extended to its fullness. And
so as we look at St. Agnes, we are struck by her courage. But I would like to
step back and look at the virtue or quality behind the courage – her virginity.
To reflect on this I would like to return to John Paul II’s Theology of the Body
where he devotes an entire section to virginity for the sake of the Kingdom. He
has a reflection: Celibacy is a response to the love of
the Divine spouse. I
would like to share with you some of this reflection.
It is natural for the human heart to accept demands, even difficult ones
in the name of love for an ideal, above all in the name of love for a person.
For love of its nature is directed toward a person. Therefore in the call to
celibacy for the sake of the Kingdom the disciples themselves and the whole
Church will soon discover the love that is referred to Christ Himself as the
Spouse of the Church, the Spouse of souls.
In this way, the choice of virginity for one’s life has become for
Christ’s disciple, the act of a particular response of love for the divine
Spouse. Therefore it has acquired the significance of an act of nuptial love, a
nuptial giving of oneself for the purpose of reciprocating the nuptial love of
the Redeemer. It is giving oneself, understood as renunciation but made above
all out of love.
At the basis of Christ’s call to virginity there is the consciousness of
the freedom of the gift. This is connected with the profound and mature
knowledge of the nuptial meaning of the body, that reciprocal relationship of
masculinity and femininity, that reciprocal “for” between man and woman of being
“for” one another. This being for one another can also be the basis of virginity
“for” the Kingdom of heaven!
CONSECRATED LIFE: TRANSFIGURED INTO CHRIST
- 2nd Sunday
of Lent
A mystery is something that is more than what we
can explain. A husband and wife cannot totally explain their love for one
another, nor can a priest or nun explain their vocation. God’s call is greater
than what we can explain.
In the same way, the Transfiguration of Jesus is a mystery of our faith;
it’s more than we can ever explain. There will always be more to it. And in
fact, the Transfiguration is one of the new Luminous mysteries of the Rosary.
Pope John Paul II has used this mystery of the Transfiguration of Jesus
as an icon, an image of the mystery of Consecrated Life. With him I would like
to reflect on this mystery of the Transfiguration of Jesus and the mystery of
the Transfiguration of our lives.
In a simple way, contemplative life has been compared to Jesus’ prayer on
the mountain. But there is so much more. In the Transfiguration we behold the
face of the Transfigured glorified Christ. But the Transfiguration is only a
glimpse of who Jesus is. The Transfiguration prepares the disciples and us to
behold the face of the disfigured, crucified Christ.
Our time with Jesus on Mt. Tabor, the mount of the Transfiguration,
prepares us for Golgotha, for Calvary. The connection between the two is vital.
In both we behold the face of Christ in glory and in humiliation. In both cases,
John Paul says, the Church is “the Bride before her Spouse, sharing in His
mystery, surrounded by His light.”
“In the contemplation of the crucified Christ, all vocations find their
inspiration. From this contemplation all gifts, in particular the gift of the
consecrated life take their origin.
Consecrated persons discover that the more they stand at the foot of the
cross, the more immediately and profoundly they experience the touch of God who
is love. On the cross the one who in death appears disfigured and without beauty
fully reveals the beauty and power of God’s love.
Here we see the connection between Tabor and Calvary.
There is no
Transfiguration without the crucifixion. Its sole purpose is to prepare for, to
lead to Calvary and beyond.
In the Transfiguration the humanity of Jesus is transfigured as well as
the divinity. The divinity transfigures the humanity of Jesus. The body of
Christ is transfigured and emanates light, a light more radiant than the sun
because it is the Light of God who is Light.
And so it is the body, the humanity of Jesus, which is transfigured and
expresses the divinity of Christ. In the same way, our lives in faith are a
transfiguration in which the power of God shines forth in our poor humanity.
John Paul says that this is particularly true of the consecrated life. The
first duty of the consecrated life is to make visible the marvels wrought by God
in the frail humanity of those who are called. They bear witness to these
marvels, not so much in word, as by the eloquent language of a transfigured
life.
How are you, Sisters, being transfigured, both as individuals, but even
more as a community? We can witness the transfiguration in a married couple, as
they show with the passing of time, we hope, how two people become one.
In the same way, your community is a privileged place to behold the
Transfiguration taking place. Perhaps like a husband and wife who are with each
other daily it is difficult to see this transfiguration taking place, as it is
difficult to notice a spouse’s hair becoming gray or white.
Through your life, more faithfulness to prayer
your will is conformed to the
will of the Father, by accepting the cross you find joy. Not only is your will
transformed, your whole person is transfigured and expresses the transformation.
The beauty of your community is that you span generations, from postulants
and novices to Sr. Mary Bernadette who celebrated her 70th
anniversary in religious life. Each of you at different points in the journey is
being transfigured.
We also see how your community is transfigured, as you share in the
suffering of the cross both in body and in mind. Through this suffering, you are
being transfigured as a community.
“It is well that we are here,”
Peter says to Jesus, in the midst of the
Transfiguration experience. But the experience passes, and the disciples see
only Jesus. So it is with us. There are those transfigured moments and there is
each day your time of prayer, in the presence of the Blessed Sacrament, and at
Mass. But each day you pass from that, you come down the mountain to cook and
clean and do the business of daily life.
As consecrated persons, you are not immune from the suffering of life,
nor from its routine, it is in your daily life also that the Transfiguration and
the cross take place.
Conclusion: The Transfiguration is a mystery of our faith, not only in
the life of Jesus but in our lives as well. The Transfiguration enables us to
stand at the foot of the cross, to behold the crucified Christ and as we behold
the crucified Christ and accept our share in his life as well, we are
transformed and we are transfigured. So that like the transfigured Christ we
become icons, signs of the marvels God is doing – in Christ and in us.
The Wedding Feast
- Matthew 22:1-14
When the Church speaks of the value of celibacy, she speaks first of the
witness given by religious and those who adopt celibacy.
Celibates show that there is more to life than what we see.
Jesus calls this the Kingdom of God and He often used the wedding feast
to describe this kingdom. The wedding feast was the celebration par excellence
of Jewish society, just as it remains the celebration in many societies.
There is food and drink, music and dancing. Who would refuse the invitation to a
wedding?
That is what the parable of Jesus is about - how
often we are invited to the wedding feast but we refuse to come. Like
those in the parable who refused the invitation to the wedding,
we are too busy with our work or we have our own plans.
Nonetheless Jesus invites us to the wedding feast.
Sisters, your greatest responsibility, I believe, is to remind the rest
of us of the wedding feast, otherwise you are like salt that has lost its
flavor.
You remind us of the wedding feast by your lives
of prayer - by the celebration of the Liturgy of the Hours and by your
contemplation which is just beneath the surface of your lives.
You remind us of the wedding feast by your
fasting, as Jesus said of his disciples: “The time will come when the
Bridegroom is taken from the, and then they will fast.”
You remind us of the wedding feast by your vows,
by which you join yourself to Jesus, the Divine Spouse.
You remind us of the wedding feast especially by
the joy which marks your lives at the foot of the cross, a paradox to the
world, a sign of the power and the wisdom of God.
You remind us of the wedding feast by the black
habit you wear. Your habit marks you as one set apart for the kingdom of
God and, along with the heart you wear, becomes a sign of the wedding feast of
heaven.
By all these elements of your lives you witness that beyond the busyness of this life lies something more, the wedding feast of heaven.
A few years ago I saw a photo of a group of monks dancing. A person can say: “What are these men doing, dancing with themselves?” or we can say: “Ah, the wedding feast!” And so sisters, do not be afraid to remind us by your lives of the wedding feast of heaven.
Jesus drew from all areas of life to describe the kingdom of God. In today’s gospel reading Jesus draws upon the world of business. He tells the story of a man who goes on a journey and entrusts his affairs to the care of servants, according to their abilities. To one servant he entrusts five talents, to another two, and to another one talent. In Jesus’ day a talent was the largest measure of money – it equaled fifteen years of wages for a worker. And so each of the servants, even the servant who receives one talent, is entrusted with a fortune. The servant with five talents invests them and doubles them; the servant with the two talents also invests and doubles the amount. The servant with the one talent buries it, the safest way in that day to keep money. The master returns and commends both servants who had doubled the amount they had received. To both of them, the master says: ‘Well done, good and faithful servant. You have been faithful in small matters, I will entrust you with greater matters. Come and share your master’s joy.’ From the servant who buried the one talent, without risking to invest it, the master takes away the one talent and removes the servant from his service.
Jesus could have told this story differently. Each of the three servants could have doubled what they had been given, and each of them been received into the joy of their master. Why did Jesus contrast those servants who were industrious with the servant who made no profit? We could take this parable to understand God as a harsh judge who condemns to the darkness. I believe that we would be missing the point. Jesus is drawing upon the character of businessmen. Charging interest was considered shameful at the time, but the businessman in this story expects to make a profit. Perhaps Jesus is saying that God gives us talents and holds us accountable for those gifts. He expects us to use them and multiply them.
St. John Chrysostom, the great preacher, said about this parable: “If people do not use the gift, they will lose it, but one who uses the gift diligently will gain even more of the gift in abundance, even as the inactive recipient will lose what he received.”
Barry and Ann Ulanov, in their book entitled Primary Speech: A Psychology of Prayer go one step farther. They say that “…our best parts, if left unlived, can be as poisonous as our worst…” They suggest that if we do not use our gifts, those gifts become burdensome and even poisonous. Our gifts must be used. The Ulanovs go on to say: “[In prayer] we discover the fine impulses we failed to act upon, the kind words we left unsaid, the ambitions we left undared…Above all, we discover our fears, the fear to risk, to love, to submit, the fear to lead, to stand out and be seen. We have no nerve of failure. So we play it safe and live in the shadows rather than the light.”
God gives to us in abundance and will hold us accountable for what we have been given. Jesus encourages us to multiply those gifts for the sake of the kingdom of God.
I would like to share with you a reflection by Pope John Paul II on All Souls Day:
Today we are called to live a particular communication with our deceased. In faith and prayer, we reestablish our family links with them; they watch us, follow after us and assist us. They already see the Lord just 'as he is.' So they encourage us to continue on the way, that pilgrimage which still remains to us on earth.
The important thing for us is not to grow weary, above all not to lose sight of the ultimate goal. Our departed are there where we too shall be. Indeed there is common ground between us and them, which makes us neighbors. It is the ground of our mutual introduction into the life of the Trinity, Father, Son and Spirit, on the basis of ...baptism. We here touch hands, because death does not exist on this ground. There is but a single flow of unending life.
It has been the conviction of the Church from its beginnings that in the celebration of the Eucharist ‘we touch hands’ with the dead. Our faith arises from the death and resurrection of Jesus. And so the paschal mystery, that we pass through death to life, is at the heart of our faith. In Baptism we die with Jesus and rise with Him to new life. In the Eucharist Jesus feeds us with His body and blood, fruits of His death and resurrection, source of unending life.
On this side of heaven, we are closest to those who have died when we celebrate the Eucharist. For in the Eucharist we step outside of time. We are present at the life-giving sacrifice of Calvary. We share in that meal which prepares us for the eternal banquet of heaven, which we hope to share with those who have gone before us. In the Eucharist, we touch hands with those who have died, as we wait to embrace them in heaven.
28th Sunday of
Ordinary Time Matthew 22: 1-14
When the Church speaks of the value of celibacy, she speaks first of the witness given by religious and those who adopt celibacy. Celibates show that there is more to life than what we see.
Jesus calls this the Kingdom of God and he often used the wedding feast to describe this kingdom. The wedding feast was the celebration par excellence of Jewish society, just as it remains the celebration in many societies. There is food and drink, music and dancing. Who would refuse the invitation to a wedding?
That is what the parable of Jesus is about - how often we are invited to the wedding feast but we refuse to come. Like those in the parable who refused the invitation to the wedding, we are too busy with our work or we have our own plans. Nonetheless Jesus invites us to the wedding feast.
Sisters, your greatest responsibility, I believe, is to remind the rest of us of the wedding feast, otherwise you are like salt that has lost its flavor.
You remind us of the wedding feast by your lives of prayer - by the celebration of the Liturgy of the Hours and by your contemplation which is just beneath the surface of your lives.
You remind us of the wedding feast by your fasting, as Jesus said of his disciples: “The time will come when the bridegroom is taken from them, and then they will fast.”
You remind us of the wedding feast by your vows, by which you join yourself to Jesus, the Divine Spouse.
You remind us of the wedding feast especially by the joy which marks your lives at the foot of the cross, a paradox to the world, a sign of the power and the wisdom of God.
You remind us of the wedding feast by the black habit you wear. Your habit marks you as one set apart for the kingdom of God and, along with the heart you wear, becomes a sign of the wedding feast of heaven.
By all these elements of your lives you witness that beyond the busyness of this life lies something more, the wedding feast of heaven.
A few years ago I saw a photo of a group of monks dancing. A person can say: ‘What are these men doing, dancing with themselves?’ or we can say: ‘Ah, the wedding feast!’
And so sisters, do not be afraid to remind us by your lives of the wedding feast of heaven.
In these Sundays before Lent, we are listening to Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians. In last Sunday’s reading, Paul says to the Corinthians that he presented the gospel to them plainly because the gospel, which is the message of the cross, has its own power to work in us and save us.
A section of Paul’s letter follows which the Church does not include in the readings which I would like to share with you (verses 18 through 25 of chapter 1.)-
For the word of the cross is folly to
those who are perishing,
But to us who are being saved it is the
power of God…
For Jews demands signs and Greeks seek
wisdom,
But we preach Christ crucified, a stumbling
block to Jews and folly to
Gentiles,
But to those who are called, both Jews and
Greeks,
Christ the power of God and the wisdom of
God.
For the foolishness of God is wiser than
men,
and the weakness of
God is stronger than men.
‘We preach Christ crucified, a stumbling block to
Jews and foolishness
to Greeks, but to those who are called, Christ
the wisdom of God and
the power of God.’
For Paul the cross is the principle at work in the gospel. Just as gravity is a physical law of the universe, so the cross is the spiritual principal which overturns the values of the world. For the wisdom of God is absurdity to the world, but it shows the wisdom of the world to be transient.
We hear this same upside-down wisdom in the Beatitudes. The beatitudes are not a list of blessings; they describe those who are happy. Jesus’ description of those who are happy is as confounding as Paul’s declaration that God has chosen the foolish and the weak, the lowly and despised. It is the power of the cross at work. For Jesus says that the poor, those who know they need God, rather than the powerful are happy. Those who mourn, who are unhappy, will be happy. Those who hunger for God and not for power or wealth, are truly happy. Those who suffer for the sake of Jesus, are happy. What an upside down gospel this is, as Paul glories in Christ crucified, Christ at his lowest and most shamed. This is the gospel.
And so we can be truly happy when we accept the cross of Christ. This is the challenge of a lifetime and the challenge of each day – to surrender our will to the will of God, who allowed his own Son to die on the cross, the most shameful death, and through that death brought life to the world.
But like Paul we see only Christ crucified. Pope John Paul has encouraged the Church to contemplate the face of Christ, which means to behold Christ crucified, absurdity to the world but the power of God at work in our lives and saving us.
If the Catholic Church had to choose one day out of the year on which she would baptize, which day would she choose? We may answer: ‘the feast we celebrate today: the baptism of the Lord.’ And the Church responds: ‘No. There is a day more dear to us on which we baptize.’ Perhaps as we look at why the Church would not choose this day, and which day she would choose, we can appreciate the sacrament of Baptism, and our baptism, more deeply.
The Baptism of the Lord introduces baptism into the year of the Church. Actually, we heard during Advent how John baptized in the Jordan River, and today we hear that Jesus comes to John and is baptized. But as John himself says, he baptizes with water; the one who comes after him will baptize with the Holy Spirit and with fire.
As Jesus is baptized by John the heavens open and the Holy Spirit descends upon him in the form of a dove. A voice from the heavens speaks: “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased.” And we have incorporated parts of the baptism of Jesus into our baptism. We baptize with water, and we receive the Holy Spirit through the anointing with the oil of chrism. From Matthew we also receive the words with which we baptize: “in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.”
But these are the signs, those things that we can see or hear that point to a deeper reality. Jesus himself after he is baptized says: ‘I have a baptism to undergo, how I wish it were accomplished.’ Jesus is speaking of his death and resurrection. Baptism is the sacrament of the death and resurrection of Jesus.
And so the Church most loves to baptize on Easter. The early Church baptized its members during the night of Easter because that is the night when Jesus rose from the dead, and in baptism we die and rise with Jesus. This is the inner reality of baptism. Just as the death and resurrection of Jesus is the greatest event in human history, Baptism is the greatest event in our lives, for in baptism we die and rise with Jesus.
And so the feast which we celebrate, the baptism of the Lord, introduces baptism. But we celebrate baptism at Easter and through the Easter season. Baptism underlies the Church year and all our faith.
Christmas Mass during the Day John 1: 1-18
The Prologue of John’s Gospel which we have just heard is truly mystagogia – it leads us into the mystery of God taking flesh and living among us. I would like to reflect on this mystery of the Incarnation by reflecting on the nature of a sacrament.
Many of us know the definition of a sacrament from the Baltimore Catechism: “A sacrament is an outward sign instituted by Christ to give grace.” That definition tells us that a sacrament is a sign of grace, something that we perceive through the senses, that has an inner component which causes grace to be present. This inner component is not perceived through the senses and must be grasped by faith. And so we can say that a sacrament both reveals the presence of God and conceals the presence of God.
Sisters, you spend time each day before the Blessed Sacrament. As a sign the Blessed Sacrament reveals the presence of Christ in the form of bread. Yet it also conceals the presence of Christ under the appearance of bread. The bread is a barrier that our senses cannot penetrate. We rely on faith to perceive Christ present there.
And so in the Incarnation the Word becomes flesh and dwells among us. Jesus both reveals the presence of God in his flesh, and his flesh conceals the presence of God. In Jesus we see a human being, one like us. For this reason many reject Jesus as God. They accept only what they can see.
Faith sees God present in the flesh which Jesus takes on and through that flesh sees God present in all flesh, in you and me.
This is the mystery we celebrate today – that God becomes flesh and lives among us. God-in-the-flesh becomes a sign of God’s presence and as sign it both reveals the presence of Christ and conceals it from the senses so that only through faith do we penetrate past the sign to the presence of God.
Homily, Midnight Mass of Christmas
C.S. Lewis wrote the Chronicles of Narnia as a way for children to grasp the Christian mysteries. Four children enter Narnia through a wardrobe, or closet. Narnia lies under the spell of the witch; it is always winter and never Christmas. But there is a power greater than the witch: Aslan, the lion. And as Aslan returns to Narnia, the ice thaws and winter becomes spring.
This Midnight Mass chooses different symbols to describe the coming of Christ. “The people who lived in darkness have seen a great light; upon those who dwelt in the land of gloom, a light has shone.”
Luke sets the birth of Christ during the night.
His instinct is sound, for women often go into labor during the night. The body knows that this is a safe time and so it often chooses this time to begin the process of giving birth.Angels appear to shepherds during the night
and the sky becomes light as the angels praise God for this child who has been born. The shepherds find the infant and behold him, and return to their flocks glorifying God for all they had seen and heard.Is it possible that the shepherds were different from beholding the face of Christ? I would like to believe that the anger and resentment, the jealousy and pride, the hurts and fears in their hearts were melting. For this child brings healing. This child breaks the chill of winter and warms the earth and the hearts of those who live in it. All those things frozen within us, in our minds, our hearts and hands, thaw as we behold the child.
This is the message of Christmas: the grace of God has appeared, touching us and warming our hearts, allowing us to pass from winter to spring.
The Immaculate Conception, December 8.
Shortly after Pope John Paul II was elected pope, he delivered a series of talks at his Wednesday audience on a theology of the human body. In these talks he focuses on the second chapter of Genesis.
There we are given a story of the first man and woman before sin. This life of the man and woman before the first sin is often called “original justice.” John Paul also describes it as “original innocence.”
In this original innocence the man and woman give themselves to each other and form a communion of persons. In this communion of persons, John Paul suggests, man and woman become the image of God who is a communion of persons, Father, Son and Holy Spirit.
With the first sin this communion of persons is nearly destroyed. Instead of giving themselves to one another freely, the woman becomes for the man an object of lust he seeks to possess.
When Mary is conceived without sin in the Immaculate Conception which we celebrate today, she lives in this original innocence.
Mary gives of herself fully and freely without taking from the other. In Mary we see the nuptial meaning of the body, that it is made for giving.But Mary is more than a relic of a time past. Through the Immaculate Conception of Mary, sin and death which had reigned, crumble.
Mary represents what God wants to do in each of us, by the power of Jesus’ death and resurrection. The passion, death and resurrection of Jesus are the center of human history and radiate life in all directions, conquering sin and death. And so even before Jesus is born, his saving act radiates its healing power.
And so we see in Mary what God wants to do in each of us.
By the power of the death and resurrection of Jesus, God wants to restore each of us so that we can give of ourselves freely.
Homily for 33rd Sunday in Ordinary Time
2 Thessalonians 3: 7-12; Luke 21: 5-19
“How do we live as we await the Lord’s return?” This question has occupied generations of Christians. It is also a question our Scripture readings for today raise. Through the centuries Christians have answered this questions in one of three ways.
St. Paul and the Thessalonians embody the first response. They were Christians of the first generation; they expected Jesus to return shortly, certainly within their lifetime. And so their attention was fixed on the day of the Lord’s return and what would take place before that day.
Some of the Thessalonians were so intent on the last days that they stopped working. Because they believed that Jesus would come soon, they saw no need to work. Paul addresses them in the section of the letter which we hear today, and he tells them: “Work!” He also adds that those who do not work, do not eat.
These Thessalonians who had stopped working represented an extreme response to the question: How do we live as we await the Lord’s return? Paul himself looked for the return of Jesus and longed for that day. But he occupied himself with work and the demands of daily life. There are Christians today, our evangelical brothers and sisters, who have this same longing for the Lord’s return, and whose attention is fixed on the last days, the day of the Lord’s return.
We Catholics tend to be on the other end of the spectrum. Though we proclaim at Mass our belief that Christ will come again, it is not a lively part of our faith. We are preoccupied with our daily activities, and don’t consider that Christ will return one day.
There are those among us, however, who await the Lord’s return. Our Sister Bernadette, who is ninety-two, lives for the coming of the Lord like a bride awaiting the return of her husband. We are enriched by her example and by the example of our Christian brothers and sisters who await the Lord’s return. We need their witness.
There is a middle way, which St. Luke represents. Luke was a Christian of the third generation. The first generation of Christians had died and still the Lord had not returned. Luke and his generation were faced with the question: How do we live as the Lord delays his coming? Luke does something very interesting. He shifts the focus from the last days when Christ would return to “today.” In Luke’s gospel as Jesus begins his ministry at Nazareth, he reads from the prophet Isaiah: ‘The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, he has sent me to bring good news to the poor, to proclaim freedom to captives, to announce a year of favor from the Lord.’ And then Jesus says to the people of Nazareth: “Today these things are fulfilled in your hearing.”
Luke remembers the day of the Lord’s return and encourages his fellow Christians to watch and pray for the Lord’s return.
But the emphasis has changed from the day of the Lord’s return to today, and how these things are being fulfilled in our midst.
The kingdom of God is among us now. We don’t want to miss what is taking place among us here and now. This is the response that St. Luke embodies, and it is a model for us.
The Lord will come again. We proclaim this mystery of our faith, and we wait to the see the Lord.
But the Lord is present among us today, and we want to have eyes to see and eyes to hear the presence of Jesus among us.
In the early 1960’s a small book was
published entitled "Marianne." It is the story of a
child who came to live with the Hawthorne Dominican
Sisters in Atlanta, who work with those who have incurable cancer.
Marianne was a beautiful child, who was missing one side of her
face from cancer. Marianne so touched the
sisters and their patients in the time that she lived with them before
her death, that the sisters felt obliged to write about her life.
The sisters approached Flannery O’Connor, a
Catholic writer who lived in Georgia, to edit the book. In her
introduction Flannery O’Connor describes her first reaction to reading the book:
stories of children seldom make good literature. The sisters, she laments,
wrote in gushing details about Marianne. It was
out of a sense of obedience that Flannery accepted the work.
But Flannery began to reflect upon the Hawthorne Dominicans
themselves, who were founded by Rose Hawthorne Lathrop,
the daughter of the American novelist Nathanael Hawthorne. She goes
to a section in a novel by Nathanael Hawthorne where a gentleman is visiting a
factory during the time of the Industrial Revolution, when children were among
those who worked in factories. And a child who was totally unattractive, walks
up to the man holding its arms outstretched, for the man to embrace the child.
The man is paralyzed and cannot reach out to touch the
child. Hawthorne revealed in one of his letters that he was this
man, who had visited a factory and been unable to touch the child.
Flannery then reflects on Hawthorne’s daughter, who takes
into her apartment in New York City a woman who is dying of cancer with no one
to help her. From this simple beginning blossoms the Hawthorne
Dominicans. Flannery then reflects on the book in her hands about
Marianne. And Flannery says that these sisters
did what their founder’s father could not do – they embraced the child
that he could not touch. Through these sisters, his spiritual children,
Hawthorne embraced the unattractive child. And
she asks: Is this not the meaning of the communion of saints?
That through our connection to other members of the body of Christ, we
accomplish things which we are unable to do ourselves – that we are completed.
This feast of All
Saints celebrates our completion as saints. We remember those holy
men and women of every time and place, who by their lives and by their struggles
have been completed and have entered the presence of God.
There are those we remember by name during the Church year,
and those we have known and remember with gratitude on
this day – those who have gone before us and inspired us and who, we
pray, are in heaven beholding the face of God. And they also pray for us.
The prayers of this Mass stress the charity of the saints,
as they pray for us and watch over us.
This is our vocation – to be completed in charity and to join the saints in heaven. On this day we remember those who have gone before us and are with God and we aspire to join them, to be fully human, completed in charity.
All Rights Reserved. © see Terms of Use and Legal Restrictions