The Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ (Corpus Christi)

Sollemnitas Corpus Christi
Dt. 8:2-3, 14b-16a; 1 Cor. 10:16-17; Jn. 6:51-58
14 June 2020

Today is our annual observance of the Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of the Lord, also called by the Latin name “Corpus Christi.”  Our faith in the Holy Eucharist is one of the most essential and defining doctrines we hold as Catholics.  And so, I want to take a moment to clearly speak what we believe as Catholics about the Holy Eucharist.

First, take note of the words you hear in the long prayer at the altar, commonly called the Eucharistic Prayer, which is rich, over and over again, in sacrificial language.  This should make you consider and realize that what happens at the Holy Mass is a sacrifice.  It is the making present again, here in our midst, of the one saving sacrifice of Jesus’ very offering of self on the Cross.  In the Roman Canon, the first Eucharistic Prayer, which your priests here tend to use most often, take note of a summary of some key Old Testament sacrifices that foreshadow what Jesus would do and command of his Church.  Coming soon after the consecration, these are the words you hear so often: “Be pleased to look upon these offerings… and to accept them, as once you were pleased to accept the gifts of your servant Abel the just, the sacrifice of Abraham, our father in faith, and the offering of your high priest Melchizedek.”  All three of these named figures are recounted in the Book of Genesis, after Adam and Eve are expelled from the Garden of Eden.  They show us that sacrifice is needed if man’s expulsion from God’s presence is to be healed and if man is to be in right relationship with God.  For the sake of quick review, Abel offered a lamb.  Abraham was willing to obey the request to offer his own son.  Melchizedek offered bread and wine.  Maybe the idiomatic light bulb is already going off for you, meaning you better understand what this prayer of the Church places before us as a foreshadowing of God’s fulfillment in Christ: The foreshadowings of a lamb, a son, and bread and wine come together as one and meet their fulfillment in Christ and his New Covenant sacrifice on the Cross.  And, very important, given the memorial Jesus established at the Last Supper and commanded to be continued, the Lord has provided the means for that same sacrifice to be sacramentally present in every age and location of his one Church.

And so, for clarity, Catholics believe that, while the appearance does not change, in fact the bread and wine offered at Holy Mass cease to be the substance of bread and wine and become the true and real living and resurrected Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity of Christ.  This happens by God’s power in both the sanctifying action of the Holy Spirit and the authority of Jesus, the Son of God, who acts through a validly ordained Catholic priest such that wherever a Catholic priest follows the Church’s authentic prayer and intends to consecrate bread and wine they become the Body and Blood of the Lord.  We call this gift of the Lord’s Real Presence the Holy Eucharist.  When received by us we call it Holy Communion.  This is what every Catholic must hold and reverence.  This is the aspect of our faith placed in focus on Corpus Christi.  Because of what we believe about the Holy Eucharist, that it is really Jesus’ presence, then it deserves the utmost reverence and care.  No reverence can really be too much.  If all we have up here is, and remains, only bread and wine, only a symbol of Jesus, or only a reminder of his sacrifice… then frankly it’s just time to go home.

With all this in mind, I want to teach you today to be judgmental.  I know that being judgmental is just about the only capital sin that remains in the minds of most modern men.  You can sort of imagine the devil capitalizing on this: “I mean, I’m Satan, but I’m not judgmental.  The Big Guy takes care of that.”  What I want to teach you today is to be judgmental toward yourself.  Not toward anyone else.  In a move decades ago when the current Mass texts were being decided by the powers that were, at a time when a wider selection of Scripture was being promoted, our sacred liturgy was curiously stripped of any reading of a very relevant Scripture text for today’s solemnity.  It is St. Paul’s witness about the institution of the Holy Eucharist and the implications of that faith, what follows from that Catholic faith.  And you find this text that we no longer hear at Mass anymore for some reason in First Corinthians chapter 11, the chapter after the second reading today (cf. 1 Cor. 11:27-31).  St. Paul writes to the Church in Corinth, “Whoever, therefore, eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be guilty of profaning the body and blood of the Lord…. For any one who eats and drinks without discerning the body eats and drinks judgment upon himself.  That is why many of you are weak and ill, and some have died.”  St. Paul says therefore that we should examine ourselves before Holy Communion.  Be judgmental!  Toward yourself, that is.  If all we have here is bread and wine it would be a rather strange thing for St. Paul to say it could be received unworthily in a way that brings guilt on one for profaning, not bread and wine, but the body and blood of the Lord.  If all we have here is bread and wine it would be a strange thing to say that receiving it unworthily is to eat and drink judgment on yourself, and is the reason that some have even died.  Yet, that is the faith of the Church… because it has always been the faith of the Catholic Church, received directly from the Lord.  We heard that very faith proclaimed by Jesus in the Gospel selection today.

The basic idea here is that because of what we believe about the Holy Eucharist there are things we do and things we don’t do toward It.  We reverence It and worship It as God’s presence among us.  We treat It in a way that clearly speaks that It is not ordinary bread or wine.  We adore It in prayer when It is elevated at Holy Mass after the consecration and we adore It displayed in our adoration chapel.  We do not omit a genuflection toward the tabernacle or kneeling at Mass, assuming health or knee problems don’t prevent us.  We don’t receive It, treat It, or handle It casually.  We realize we shouldn’t present ourselves to receive It if we are not Catholic.  Even if we are Catholic by baptism, we realize we shouldn’t present ourselves to receive It if we have not been fully practicing the faith.  Likewise, we realize we shouldn’t present ourselves to receive It if we are not following an important moral teaching.  We examine and judge ourselves and so we go to confession regularly in order to be in a worthy state of grace for receiving Holy Communion.  We take care to instruct our children and family and other guests here so they understand and follow proper etiquette and are not confused about reception of Holy Communion.  And as we have learned recently, sometimes we simply observe a “spiritual communion” as a means to purify our vision and to build a greater longing for the Lord, just as we also observe a physical fast from food in preparation for Holy Communion.  I have said before that some of the best examples and witnesses of Catholic faith in the Holy Eucharist are those who respectfully refrain from receiving Holy Communion when they know they shouldn’t receive It.  When someone decides to refrain from Holy Communion we shouldn’t assume anything about that person other than they are a courageous soul, with a well-developed faith, and are showing reverence to the Lord’s Real Presence, just as the person does who worthily receives.

Sacrifice is needed if man’s expulsion from God’s presence is to be healed and if man is to be in right relationship with God.  The lamb, the beloved son, and the bread and wine are here joined and fulfilled in the Blessed Sacrament of the Altar.  On Corpus Christi we observe that the perfect sacrifice that pleases God has been offered by the Son on the Cross, and is made present here in the Holy Eucharist.  And so, we examine ourselves in order to live in communion with the Lord whose Holy Communion we desire to receive. 

Pentecost Sunday

Dominica Pentecostes
30-31 May 2020

[Words in brackets refer to variations of this homily depending on whether the Mass and Scripture readings were the Pentecost Vigil with RCIA entrance into the Church, or the Mass and Scripture readings for Pentecost Sunday.]

Pentecost is one of the greatest solemnities of our faith, observing the descent of the promised Holy Spirit filling the Church and disciples, both in ancient times and now, with God’s gifts for mission.  We should understand that some of our feasts have origins in the Jewish faith.  Others are unique to Christianity.  For example, Christians observe Easter which has a connection to Passover.  The Jewish feast of Passover does not observe the same thing as Easter, but they roughly line up on the calendar and in other languages the word for ‘Easter’ bears stronger resemblance to the word for ‘Passover’ than does the English word.  Words like ‘Pascha’ and ‘Pasqua.’  As another example, our feast of the Ascension, the Lord’s return in glory to Heaven, is purely Christian and has no Jewish antecedent.  As a feast, Pentecost has Jewish origins.  In fact, it is one of the three most solemn feasts of the Jewish faith.  As a term, “Pentecost” refers to the “fiftieth day,” since the Jewish feast of Pentecost falls fifty days after the Passover.  The Passover celebrated God’s saving work to bring His people out of slavery.  Upon leaving Egypt the People of Israel arrived at Mt. Sinai about fifty days later (cf. Ex. 19).  Jewish Pentecost originally celebrated the harvesting of grain and the offering to God of the first fruits of the earth.  Later, Jewish Pentecost came to be an important remembrance of God’s giving of the Law to Moses on Mount Sinai.  Thus, as an aspect of Jewish faith, Pentecost observed God’s establishing of a covenant in stone with the giving of the Ten Commandments.  It was in part this Jewish feast day that had the apostles, Mary, and other disciples gathered in Jerusalem when the outpouring of the Holy Spirit from the Father and the Son took place, thus marking the beginnings of the transition of Pentecost into a Christian feast.  The Church now concludes the Holy Season of Easter with this great solemnity of Pentecost, coming fifty days since Easter Sunday.

From reading the Scriptures you know that prior manifestations of the Holy Spirit had the Spirit descend in the form of a dove (at Jesus’ baptism).  What is significant about His descending in the form of fire as Acts of the Apostles tells us about Pentecost Day [Sunday: in today’s first reading]?  Why the form of fire?  There is a simple but profound answer.  Recall the origin of the Jewish feast of Pentecost observing the People of Israel arriving at Mt. Sinai where God gave the Law.  Exodus 19 [Vigil: tonight’s second reading] tells us what happened on Mt. Sinai as God came down to His people and spoke to them through Moses.  Exodus 19 says, “Mount Sinai was all wrapped in smoke, for the Lord came down upon it in fire.  The smoke rose from it as though from a furnace, and the whole mountain trembled violently” (Ex. 19).  Thus, fire serves as a sign of the divinity of the Holy Spirit who comes down upon His chosen and redeemed people, not to write His law in stone, but in their hearts [Vigil: as the reading from Ezekiel tonight prophesied].  The Holy Spirit descending in fire serves as a further connection to the fulfillment of God’s past actions in the New Covenant established by the Son, Jesus Christ.  Just as the Passover and the Exodus of old are fulfilled in the exodus of Jesus’ death and resurrection, so the Jewish Pentecost of old is fulfilled in God the Holy Spirit descending upon the Church in the form of fire.

For us as Christians Pentecost does not observe God’s covenant with us in stone.  Rather, we might say that we celebrate at Pentecost that God’s covenant with us has come closer and deeper than commandments on stone tablets.  Since Jesus tells his disciples that it is better that he leaves them so that he can send the Holy Spirit, we might even go so far to say that God’s covenant with us has come still closer and even deeper than when God the Son took on our flesh and showed us divine love in human form.  We can make this claim because at Pentecost we observe that if we believe in the Lord Jesus and accept his word and commands, then the Holy Spirit of God comes to dwell within us, to animate us with the very life, power, and love of God.  The question, then, for each of us to consider is whether I give God a tender and receptive flesh, heart, and soul in which to take up residence as in a temple?  Or do I give God only a stony heart in my relationship with Him?

The responsibility that we each must take for our daily prayer life and our moral living, and the strength from God which comes from the life of the sacraments [Vigil: which you are about to receive] are meant to make us greater temples of the Holy Spirit, more pleasing to God, and more closely conformed to the image and likeness in which we were made, but which sin has disfigured and which sin still disfigures.  [Next follows two alternate endings of the homily.  The first was given at the Extended Form of the Pentecost Vigil at which the RCIA class entered the Church after COVID-19 closures delayed their normal entrance at the Easter Vigil.  The second was given at the regular Pentecost Sunday Mass.]

[RCIA: I am so delighted for each of you this evening.  After many weeks of delay, we arrive at such a solemn opportunity to recognize the journey of faith you have been on.  We give thanks to God for all the origins of that faith that has led you, the unbaptized, to enter life in Christ, and we give thanks to God for the origins of that faith that you, the already-baptized, received in other communities.  You have prayed, and studied, and worked to arrive at this moment.  It is fair to say by faith you have already become Catholic.  Tonight, we finally make that official and formal by your entrance into sacramental life and full initiation into the Church.  Thank you for your perseverance and your patience.  I am confident these past many weeks that God has been giving each of us grace, and doing something to prepare us for a mission none of us could predict.  Much like the apostles and disciples who did not know what to expect on that first Christian Pentecost, so we must strive and thirst, as the Gospel said, to drink the rivers of living water that the Holy Spirit provides within us, so that we live a deeper life with God and are prepared for the mission He will ask of each of us: a mission to go out and to make disciples.  Your thirst is met by the living water of daily prayer.  But never forget that the Father had a very specific living water in mind for His people, a living water prophesied and prefigured throughout centuries, finally inaugurated in the covenant of Jesus the Son, placed within us by the Holy Spirit, and meant to be experienced and increased by the life of the sacraments that will now mark your Catholic faith.  Give God a tender receptive flesh, heart, mind, and soul to live intimately with Him now and so to have the hope of the eternal communion of Heaven.]

[Sunday: I am confident these past many weeks that God has been giving each of us grace, and doing something to prepare us for a mission none of us could predict.  Much like the apostles and disciples who did not know what to expect on that first Christian Pentecost, so we must strive and thirst, as other Gospels say, to drink the rivers of living water that the Holy Spirit provides within us, so that we live a deeper life with God and are prepared for the mission He will ask of each of us: a mission to go out and to make disciples.  Your thirst is met by the living water of daily prayer.  But never forget that the Father had a very specific living water in mind for His people, a living water prophesied and prefigured throughout centuries, finally inaugurated in the covenant of Jesus the Son, placed within us by the Holy Spirit, and meant to be experienced and increased by the life of the sacraments of our Catholic faith.  Give God a tender receptive flesh, heart, mind, and soul to live intimately with Him now and so to have the hope of the eternal communion of Heaven.]

Sixth Sunday of Easter

Dominica VI Paschae A
17 May 2020

“If you love me, you will keep my commandments,” says the Lord.  Following the Lord’s commandments carries with it a new promise made by Jesus in his remarks at the Last Supper in today’s Gospel selection.  Jesus teaches that love should drive us to keep his commands.  St. John must have been so captivated by this notion of an interior drive to recognize what a gift God’s commands are, because in his writings he so often highlights that love of God is shown in obedience.  The interior drive of love, as opposed to mere external obligation!  And when our love drives us to be obedient to the Lord, we find a rich promise.  Jesus says, “I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate to be with you always, the Spirit of truth.”  Note that Jesus is the first Advocate sent by the Father to be with us.  Now Jesus references another Advocate.  Jesus promises that his departure is important, even necessary and good, because by it he can then ask the Father to send to those who love him the Holy Spirit of truth to be an Advocate or a Paraclete, as is said in other sections of the Gospel.  Whether using the Latin or Greek based words, ‘Advocate’ or ‘Paraclete,’ the meaning is the same.  An advocate is one who is literally called to your side, who stands with you, to advise you, to strengthen you, to guide you, to defend you, to advocate for you.  You can picture this in the legal context in that someone’s legal adviser stands at the side representing him in court.  No surprise then that in some languages the word for “lawyer” shares that root of “advocate,” which you can detect in the Spanish “abogado” and still more clearly in the Italian “avvocato.”  The apostles would receive this promised Holy Spirit to come be with them, at their side, some days later at Pentecost when they were given this Advocate for their mission to the world.

How do we receive the promise Jesus made?  Our first gift of the Spirit of truth happens at our baptism when by rebirth into the family of God we are made temples of the Holy Spirit.  From this, we are given a life that needs to be nurtured and that is intended to grow.  The disciple is by no means finished upon receiving baptism only.  This is clear from the Scriptures, and so following that cue our Catholic practice evidences that there is more expected after baptism.  Among many other ways a disciple needs to grow after baptism, we can note the need to respond to the Lord by deeper love that motivates our obedience.  For our purposes today, I want to focus some attention on a significant way we receive the promised Advocate.  It is so significant that it is its own sacrament.  Let’s look closely at the first reading and marvel at the origin of our Catholic practice.

In the first reading from the Acts of the Apostles (8:5-8, 14-17) we get insight into the activity of the ancient Church, how things looked, and what happened as the apostles and other disciples sought to fulfill the Lord’s command to continue his mission.  In today’s selection we hear about Philip who is one of the deacons we heard about in last Sunday’s first reading.  Philip is in non-Jewish territory preaching and making converts to Christianity and baptizing new disciples.  But notice what happens next.  Acts says, “Now when the apostles in Jerusalem heard that Samaria had accepted the word of God, they sent them Peter and John, who went down and prayed for them, that they might receive the Holy Spirit, for it had not yet fallen upon any of them; they had only been baptized in the name of the Lord Jesus.  Then they laid hands on them and they received the Holy Spirit.”  So, what is going on here?  Philip the deacon had been preaching and baptizing with great response and joy in the city.  You can see clearly that there is more to be done than only baptism.  There are two distinct movements we might say.  There is baptism.  But then there is a distinct giving of the Holy Spirit by the laying on of hands.  Why didn’t Philip just lay hands on them?  Why did the Apostles Peter and John have to come all the way from Jerusalem to these new Christians to lay hands on them who had only been baptized?  You see here a distinct and separate bestowal of the Holy Spirit that apparently only the Apostles could do.  And they do it not according to the first way the Holy Spirit is received, that is by immersing a convert in water at baptism (as Philip had done), but by laying hands on them in prayer such that they receive the Holy Spirit.  Friends, what is this?  What do these acts of the apostles show us?  This shows us the ancient origin of what we now call the sacrament of confirmation.

Sometimes people are confused and wonder where confirmation is in the Bible.  Some go so far as to reject confirmation because they do not find that word in the Bible.  Certainly, the word ‘confirmation’ is not there, but the reality of what confirmation is, is indeed in the Bible.  We have it in today’s first reading.  Using the same faulty logic would one deny the “Trinity” because Jesus speaks of the Father and the Holy Spirit and himself as the Son but he does not use the word “Trinity.”  Well, no!  The reality of the Trinity is there, even if the word is not used.  Today’s first reading shows us that there is a special giving of the Holy Spirit that is different than baptism and which is done by different ministers.  Philip was a deacon and could preach and baptize.  But priestly and apostolic ministry was needed to lay hands on a Christian for this second giving of the Holy Spirit.

Confirmation completes the initiation that was begun in baptism.  In fact, reception of confirmation is necessary to complete and to fulfill baptismal grace.  In particular, its reception gives the Holy Spirit so that a Christian has strength to share in the mission of the Church to go out and to proclaim the kingdom, and to make new disciples.  This connection of power for evangelizing mission is one reason why we in the Western Catholic Church (as opposed to the equally valid Eastern Catholic practice) have kept the bestowal of confirmation ordinarily by a bishop.  While a priest has the sacred power to confirm by virtue of priestly ministry in apostolic succession, it is ordinarily a successor of the Apostles who comes to confirm.  However, a bishop may give permission for priests to confirm on his behalf, and priests regularly do so for groups entering the Church, like for those in RCIA.  Priests also confirm in cases of emergency.  Confirmation can often be misunderstood and undervalued.  There can be confusion about the purpose of confirmation when its reception has been moved around from younger to older, and thereby can be mistakenly viewed as some sort of teenage ‘rite of passage’ in faith.  Confirmation is even sometimes skipped altogether.  But let us be clear about the ancient origin and value of confirmation.  It completes our full initiation into Christ and into his Church with shared responsibility for the mission to make disciples.  It is the gift of the promised indwelling of God the Holy Spirit.  It fulfills the promise Jesus made at the Last Supper that if we love him and obey him this promised Advocate comes to us so that we are not orphans or abandoned.  Rather, with the Spirit of truth guiding us and guarding us, standing with us, and comforting us, we can be fully alive in the joy and power of God.  And so, like the joy that filled Samaria at Philip’s work, we too should seek confirmation and seek to live its grace so that we become part of the great chorus we heard in the psalm: “Let all the earth cry out to God with joy.”  What is this joy?  What is this crying out?  It is crying out in joy for the promised works of the Holy Spirit sent by the Father and the Son at Pentecost and received by the baptized faithful to give us evangelizing power as disciples of the Lord!

Fifth Sunday of Easter

Dominica V Paschae A
10 May 2020

The Gospel passage today takes us back to Jesus’ extended remarks to his apostles at the Last Supper where he had predicted Judas’ betrayal, had informed the group that he would be with them only a little while longer (Jn. 13:33), and had predicted that Peter would deny him.  The apostles are stirred up, maybe even confused and hurt.  And so, we can understand why Jesus says, “Do not let your hearts be troubled.”

Jesus prepares the Apostles for his departure.  He is preparing them in an immediate sense for his suffering and death, about to take place in the moments after the Last Supper.  But in a larger more remote context he is preparing them for after his resurrection and ascension when he will return to his rightful place in Heaven with the promise to return again in glory.  While Jesus indicates he will go away, his departure is not without a promised return.  We can get this message and thus the reason why Jesus can say, don’t let your hearts be troubled, from the Greek original of this passage for the type of departure Jesus indicates.  The language for Jesus’ “going away” employs the image of Jewish betrothal and wedding ceremonies.  A bride and groom in ancient Jewish practice, once betrothed were legally married and already husband and wife, yet they did not immediately live together.  That’s why if you think with me in a different context, when Joseph plans to leave Mary after discovering she’s pregnant, the angel can appear to him and say “Do not be afraid to take Mary, your wife, into your home.”  Upon betrothal they are already legally married yet not living together.  Upon betrothal the groom would “go away” to prepare a dwelling place for his wife and new family.  He would often do so on familial land, “in his father’s house” in other words.  And once a suitable dwelling place was prepared he would return and a joyful wedding procession would take place to the new home where the bride and groom would begin only then their common life living together.

This is the language employed by Jesus in today’s selection.  Yes, he is going away.  But it is a going away that implies a return, as he himself says.  And his return is intended to gather his faithful to take them to the Father’s house.  The Father’s house, of course, is not a literal house but is Heaven and the life of eternal blessedness.

I hope this doesn’t shock you, but heaven is not here and it will not be here.  Heaven is not even in the Church.  Though indefectible in her spiritual and divine nature, the Church as the visible human community of those called, chosen, and formed to live deeper salvation is not yet heaven.  We in the Church are on a journey, as it were, toward that final joyful procession when Jesus returns as Judge and ushers the faithful into the wedding feast of heaven.  If you need a reminder that heaven is not here and not even in the Church at least in her visible human appearance, consider the first reading where we are plainly shown there were factions and there was complaining among disciples, all vying for their own interests.  [As an aside, as we prepare for limited re-opening and limited entrance to church, let’s have charity so we don’t replicate complaining and factions.]  The Church recognizes that the world and God’s creation is good.  Therefore, to care for it is good.  Therefore, it is good to seek to organize human society in greater conformity to Christ’s command and to his kingdom, such that there is greater justice and authentic flourishing here.  However, the Church’s competence and mission, is not primarily focused on the here and now.  As disciples we can never lose sight of the ultimate goal of Heaven and the proper competence and authority of the Church in spiritual matters of faith and morals.  While you the laity do have the call most directly to be apostles who take Gospel truths into the world, I get worried when the ordained and other leaders in the Church seem more action-driven and motivated by things outside the Church’s competence, matters of the human and political realm.  When the ordained give more attention to secular pursuits or the tactics of grass roots community action I fear the focus has shifted off of heaven and becomes focused on the here and now.  That may carry with it the false notion that we can build a perfect human community here.  That is not the work of the ordained.  Nor is it even realistic.  There will also be sin and imperfection here.  Heaven is our ultimate goal.  It is the place to which we strive.  There will be perfection and eternal blessedness.

Not only is Heaven not here.  It also is not a place, in the sense of some location or geography.  Look again at the Gospel.  When Jesus discusses his going away and the preparation of a dwelling for his faithful it becomes clear what this dwelling is: he will come to take you to himself so that you can be with him.  And where will that be or what will that be?  It becomes clear when Thomas says, “we do not know where you are going; how can we know the way?”  Jesus’ response is not about a physical place.  Rather, it is clear he is speaking about heaven as the life of the Trinity.  Sharing in the life of the Blessed Trinity, having the unveiled vision of God, is the experience of Heaven.  Jesus says that our procession to the eternal dwelling is to come to the Father.  He says, “I am in the Father and the Father is in me.”  It is clear that his listeners get that Jesus is not speaking of heavenly buildings but of the Trinity because Philip asks boldly, “show us the Father.”

Friends, while Heaven is not this life here, the Good News is that we can begin to experience the life of the Blessed Trinity even now.  When we pray and give ourselves to God in prayer, we are opening ourselves to real relationship with a real personal being who is God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  God responds and places His life and love within us.  The sacramental life is still a deeper experience of Godly relationship. These are foretastes of heavenly life.  We become temples of the Holy Spirit of God.  We are given impulse by the very power of God and so we can understand those odd sounding words at the end of the Gospel: “whoever believes in me will do the works that I do, and will do greater ones than these.”  Those greater works are the works guaranteed by the Holy Spirit that have eternal consequences, building not only a society here but most especially building and saving souls for the eternal communion with God in Heaven.

With confidence that the Lord does not abandon us but sends his Holy Spirit may you whose vocation is the lay state seek to be living stones to build a world in greater conformity to Christ, recognizing that you are “a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation.”  May we each together seek to live deeper communion with God in prayer and sacramental life now so that we are prepared for the day when the Lord will come to take us to the full heavenly vision of life with the Blessed Trinity in Heaven.

Fourth Sunday of Easter

Dominica IV Paschae A
3 May 2020
Good Shepherd Sunday

 The Fourth Sunday of Easter is typically called “Good Shepherd Sunday.”  Yesterday the Church observed the feast day of one great shepherd, the feast of the bishop St. Athanasius who lived in the 300s.  St. Athanasius was one of the great bishops from the earliest centuries of faith life in the Catholic Church.  At the age of only twenty-one he had already written a great work titled “On the Incarnation,” expounding on the truth that the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity, the Eternal Son of God, had condescended and lowered Himself to take on flesh in the womb of Blessed Mary and so come to us as God incarnate, God in our flesh.

I want to focus our attention on one implication of the mystery of the Incarnation that St. Athanasius explained and defended, and then apply that to our time, especially in view of a hoped-for return to some greater normalcy in our sacramental life.  Listen to St. Athanasius’ words, “The Word of God, incorporeal, incorruptible and immaterial, entered our world.  Yet it was not as if he had been remote from it up to that time.  For there is no part of the world that was ever without his presence; together with his Father, he continually filled all things and places.  Out of his loving-kindness for us he came to us, and we see this in the way he revealed himself openly to us.  Taking pity on mankind’s weakness, and moved by our corruption, he could not stand aside and see death have the mastery over us; he did not want creation to perish and his Father’s work in fashioning man to be in vain” (On the Incarnation, Office of Readings, May 2).  One implication of the Incarnation, the truth that the Eternal Son of God took on our flesh in the womb of Blessed Mary, is that God desired to be and came close to us.  He came like one of us in all things but sin.  He came within our very flesh and our frame to be near to us.

This has an application for the practice of our faith life as Catholics.  You see, God is not to be viewed simply as a concept.  His interaction with us is not only spiritual but direct, personal, and physical.  He is incarnate.  He comes near to us.  And so, His grace and power and blessing are enfleshed too, here and now.  We are meant to have a relationship with God that is personal and direct.  I point this out because I wonder about a possible ramification of this time of quarantine.  What will happen when we begin to return to normal?  Will we find that some of our Catholic brothers and sisters, perhaps not well-formed, will have become too accustomed to live stream Masses?  Too accustomed to the illusion of participating in Mass through a camera?  Such practice for us is permitted now because there is little more we can do.  And to be clear, that’s okay for now.  But, when we can do more and live more normally, will we find that some have disappeared somewhere beyond the camera?  It’s a different matter for a Protestant brother or sister, especially who attends a megachurch, to return to “normal” where the normal pattern may well be watching a pastor on a TV screen.  But what should return to “normal” look like for a Catholic?  Please God all of our brothers and sisters in the Catholic fold will return, but we need to prepare ourselves to be true Catholics and witnesses to them, to be St. Athanasius’ to them, to proclaim the truth clearly and convincingly as he did that God has come near in the Incarnation and that no artificial distance, or the illusion of digital proximity, can suffice for an authentic life with our Good Shepherd.  We need to also prepare ourselves to be witnesses who bring non-Catholics nearer and into the fold.

What are the lessons of the Incarnation?  Jesus, the Son of God in the flesh, is the one who comes near such that the woman with the hemorrhage can reach out and grasp his cloak.  This is the God who spits on the ground, making mud with the dirt, and smears it on the blind man’s eyes to heal him.  This is the God who desires proximity and direct, personal contact such that he confronts lack of belief by demanding, put your finger in the nail marks and place your hand in my side, and believe.  God is not merely and cannot remain merely a concept.  He is to be encountered in a direct and personal way.  Through a video lens or on a screen is not the norm and will not suffice under normal conditions.  People experience God in many and varied ways, to be sure.  By His power He is and can be present spiritually with us and, as we say, in our hearts, especially when we foster prayer life.  This is true.  But what a greater treasure do we have as Catholics… by the Incarnation God comes near to us directly and personally and this is the heart of a proper sacramental life!  How strange it is that we Catholics are sometimes accused of having a distant faith or a faith that is only about rules.  That’s only true if you remain distant and close God off to the reality of your life in all its episodes, in all its joys and struggles, and even in the darkness of sins.  How strange it would be then, again under normal conditions when we are more free to live a sacramental life, that a Catholic would keep a distance from the Lord.  God’s grace in you was begun by direct gift that comes from his personal offering on the Cross and the physical, close, pouring of water for rebirth in the Spirit.  That new life is strengthened by the direct and personal anointing of confirmation such that you become a temple of the Holy Spirit and decorated as a solider of Christ.  The Lord gives himself most intimately in his resurrected and living flesh in Holy Communion, nourishing you to keep on the path of intimacy with him.  Even in our sins, darkness, and struggles he is near to save us.  How strange it is then that a Catholic would keep a distance from this merciful work of the incarnate God in confession and choose instead to live at greater distance and to wallow in indignity.  God has come near, within our very flesh!  He desires and makes intimacy with Him possible.

That God comes in our flesh as the fulfillment of the shepherd King in the line of David gives us an image of God’s closeness.  God’s work is continued in our time by the proximity of ordained shepherds in our midst.  In the Gospel Jesus proclaims himself to be the gate for the sheep.  And he says that whoever enters through the gate (through him) is the shepherd of the sheep.  That is an instruction especially to priests that we must have a deep interior life with Jesus.  We must live in, and minister through the gate, through Jesus, if we will truly fulfill the calling to be shepherds in his name.  And listen to the clear and unique Gospel imagery for how shepherds lead, which will give particular force to the Church’s ancient liturgical practice that you can see and may have noticed here at the altar: From the sheepfold, “the shepherd calls his own sheep by name and leads them out…. he walks ahead of them, and the sheep follow him.”  Standing at the sacred altar, ahead of you, but on the same side of the altar with you truly signifies our journey, our procession in this life: a shepherd walks ahead of you to lead, but also on the same side of the altar with you since he is also one of the Lord’s flock.  The shepherd seeks to keep his gaze and the gaze of the flock entrusted temporarily to him, not on himself, but on the signs in the cosmos that the Lord is returning to meet us in judgment.  Both shepherd and flock have focus for the journey of the spiritual life by focusing on the horizon whence we await the return in glory of our Good Shepherd incarnate still in our flesh!

On this Good Shepherd Sunday I ask your prayers for me, for Fr. Bali, and for Fr. Mejia as we seek to care for and to lead the flock here at our parish.  I ask for your prayers for our Archbishop, who has important decisions to announce soon about how and under what conditions we will seek to return to a more normal sacramental life.  By extension I ask you to pray for our deacons.  And I ask you to pray for future priests and express to God a willingness to welcome and to promote from among your own sons whatever is God’s will, should He call one or more of them to be future priests.

Second Sunday of Easter/Divine Mercy Sunday

Dominica II Paschae A
19 April 2020
Divine Mercy Sunday

At times in preaching some images that might communicate a point can be more evocative, if not provocative.  When a preacher employs such images he might try to prepare his congregation for the unexpected so that they don’t fall out of their seats.  Today I have just such an image.  And so, oddly enough in this setting, I can tell you to fasten your seatbelts… and what’s more… you can literally do so!

The evocative or provocative image, however, is not mine but comes from the Scriptures.  St. Peter employed the image.  It is in his letter in the Bible.  And it formed the entrance antiphon of this Holy Mass.  The image is that of an infant nursing and longing for the mother’s milk.  It’s an image that paints a vivid picture for Christian life and the nourishment we need to grow toward our mature goal: salvation in heaven!

Interactions with parishioners at times provide very powerful things for my meditation.  Maybe it is good for you to hear and to know that… that your lives bear the marks of God and the touch of the divine and things spiritual.  Normally we need someone else to point that out to us, no?  You have been in large, multi-generational family gatherings and you know how you enter and exit various conversations all going on at once around a table or in the living room.  So it was at one such gathering of parishioners that I turned from my spot at the table because a mother with a young infant said something behind me.  We began speaking and I noticed that her infant son was… well, there is no other way to say this… he was grabbing quite aggressively and intently at her blouse and even down it!  He wanted to nurse and he knew how to communicate the desire.

That image came to my mind in my reflections for today’s Mass as I read the entrance antiphon, a verse from the First Letter of St. Peter: “Like newborn infants, you must long for the pure, spiritual milk, that in him you may grow to salvation.”  God’s Word makes use of the image of an infant longing to nurse to tell us something about what we need in order to be transformed from infant Christians to fully mature saints in heaven.

The infant who longs to nurse is hungry and wants food.  He knows where the source of that food is.  Though an infant can’t explain it, he needs that food in order to grow and to mature and to become what he is supposed to become… a fully mature adult.  There is a longing within the child and it is placed there for an important purpose.  When that longing for the nourishment of milk is fulfilled, it helps him arrive by the process of growth to where he should be.  Upon our birth into the family of Christ and his Church we begin as infants.  But we are not supposed to remain there.  We are supposed to grow and to mature.  The goal of our growth, unlike natural life, is not simply the number or the maturity of years, but rather that of full Christian maturity and the life of heaven.  Thus, the entrance antiphon could say that we must long for spiritual milk so that we may grow to salvation.  It is a good and a holy desire to long for our souls to be fed.  The spiritual milk we need comes to us in various ways by God’s grace.  Do we bother to notice the longing of our souls?  Do we know the source of our nourishment?  Do we seek it, quite intently and vigorously, like that infant I saw at the family gathering?  Will we go after the saving teachings of our faith and seek the practices that give life to our soul?  While we are more separated from one another than normal perhaps we can ask the Lord to use this time frame to teach us to long for our spiritual nourishment and to not take it for granted when our distancing ends, even as we know that his grace still comes to us now.

But there is something still more in the lesson to be like newborn infants longing for pure, spiritual milk.  The point of the image, brothers and sisters, is not merely that we seek to fulfill our soul’s longing by aggressively grabbing at the things of God.  There is something more that tempers that image for us.  Any mother could tell you that nursing is not only a function of the transfer of food, or only a physical act by which a baby gets nourishment.  There is an intimacy and a deep union – a communion we could say – between a nursing mother and her child.  Nursing is also about bonding the mother and child, not just about feeding.  And there is something of God and of the spiritual life there too.  I think that’s why a preacher like St. Peter would use the image.

As you and I continue to celebrate the joy of Easter and as we hear that antiphon telling us to be like newborn infants longing for pure, spiritual milk, we should note that we best not be grabbing at the things of God.  Rather, we should note that our soul is called to an intimacy, to a communion with God.  Our distancing, by the time it ends, would be wasted if we return to more normal practice of the faith in an entitled way, grabbing at God’s gifts.  No, let’s nurture a longing within ourselves such that our return to normalcy is marked by the peaceful, contented, relaxed assurance of an infant, knowing that God feeds us.  If we struggle or doubt in this odd time frame, let Jesus’ action in the Gospel we heard today assure you.  What can we make of his twice appearing within that locked room where his apostles were?  I suggest the lesson that we want to take away is that there are no obstacles that can prevent the Risen Lord from feeding us with his presence and his grace and his gift of peace.  Just as locked doors and walls were no obstacle to him doing whatever he wanted, so our distancing, our suspension of the normal sacramental life does not create an obstacle for God who can impart the spiritual milk of his grace however and wherever.  Even now in these days, long for the Lord and expect him to appear in your midst.  Expect him to show the wounds that are the mark of his credibility as the one who suffers with you.  Expect him to speak to you: Peace be with you!

Good Friday

Good Friday
10 April 2020

In my homily yesterday at the Mass of the Lord’s Supper for Holy Thursday, my focus was on Jesus’ sacramental offering of himself even before he died physically.  And my hope for us is that we understand that Jesus truly and really offered himself in that First Holy Communion at the Last Supper.  There was nothing lacking in that offering of himself on Holy Thursday, even as he awaited the completion of that offering in the flesh on the Cross on that first Good Friday.  Yesterday’s focus was on offering.  Today’s focus is on consummation. 

At the point of his death our Blessed Lord spoke these words that we have translated into English: “It is finished.”  That is a translation of the Latin Vulgate biblical text.  In Latin the Lord’s phrase is: “Consummatum est.”  That phrase does indeed carry with it the notion that something is brought to completion.  And so our English text can rightly say, “It is finished.”  But I want to highlight something in the Latin as a point of attention for us today.  Looking at the root of the Latin there is not only a sense of completion but also a sense that something is being “brought all together.”  Still more, there is a root sense that something is “being perfected” or “being brought to its highest form.”  And this gathering together, this being brought to perfection, is not happening in isolation but together with something else, or with others.

With that in mind I offer this simple and brief thought for today.  We recall the enduring love of God for us and the depth to which He goes to save us.  Veiled in our flesh such that His glory as God is hidden, He goes still further and is veiled under brutal torture and disfigurement.  His glory and love is not recognizable and it is not recognizable because of our sin, our pride, and our rejection of him.  Do not hear in English “It is finished” to mean that a book or a story is closed, done, nothing more to happen.  Rather, consider the root meanings from the Latin.  The Lord completes his self-offering on the Cross.  In that sense, in the flesh, his offering is consummated.  But remember his act on the Cross, was to bring all together, to bring to perfection, and to do so not in isolation, but to bring others along with his offering.

Perhaps that can be a focal point for our experience this Holy Week.  Perhaps that can help us understand the ache and the longing in our hearts.  Our longing is about more than just desiring a return to normal.   Rather, it is a recognition that the Divine Heart of Jesus beats for us and pours out His love.  Our hearts receive that love if we will lift the veil of our sin, our pride, and our rejection of him.  Our hearts are brought together into his offering.  And that is why we long to receive him in Holy Communion.  Jesus’ self-offering is complete, it is finished.  But it is not the end of story… may we be determined to freely cooperate with him and to be brought together, to be brought into his perfect offering.  Receiving his grace and his love, may we go forth as disciples who seek to be co-workers with the Lord in bringing others souls all together into his self-offering for salvation.

Holy Thursday

Holy Thursday
9 April 2020

On this holy night that begins the Sacred Triduum, the sacred three days that celebrate how Christ accomplished our salvation, the Church reflects on three principal mysteries from the Last Supper.  Our attention is drawn to our Blessed Lord’s example of humble charity.  Charity is love, and it is modeled for us in the washing of the apostles’ feet together with the Lord’s explicit command that our lives too must be marked by humble charity and service of others.  Our attention is drawn to the institution of the Sacrament of the Holy Eucharist, that greatest, most august sacrament that makes present truly and really the Lord’s sacrifice for our salvation, the offering of the gift of his whole self.  Our attention is also drawn to the institution of the Sacrament of the Priestly Order.  We believe that our Lord’s command to the apostles, “Do this in memory of me,” conferred upon them a real authority from the Lord to continue his mission in this world through his Church.  If that command did not confer upon them the priestly office and authority then his words would be meaningless, rendering what the apostles would go on to do in his name little more than re-enactment or religious theatre.  But no, our faith tells us that the Lord in his divine love and mercy for us made his offering of self on this night at the Last Supper.  Having a love that knows no bounds, our Lord also established the way that his offering could be and would be made present in every time and place in this world.  With such a focus on the priesthood I am delighted to acknowledge here with us a few priests.  Of course, my assistant, Fr. Bali whose presence is a source of great blessing and comfort to our parish.  We welcome back Fr. Stanley who, together with seminarian Martin Parizek, is here to form a small choir to add beauty to this Mass.  A happy day of the priesthood to you, my brothers!  I am grateful to you Fr. Stanley and Martin for your initiative in providing chant at this Mass.

In the course of the Last Supper, gathered for the expected Passover meal, Jesus did something new in the presence of his apostles.  He fulfilled the Passover and transformed it to refer to himself.  At the Last Supper the Lord truly and really offered himself under the appearance of unleavened bread and wine.  And he did that in view of what he would accomplish the next day on the Cross.  Before he even died on the Cross Jesus offered himself at the Last Supper.  That can perhaps seem a bit mysterious to us, right?  What does it mean and how do we understand the Lord offering himself in Holy Communion at the Last Supper when in fact he had not yet died on the Cross?  Is there something inauthentic or, at worst, fraudulent and empty in that first Holy Communion at the Last Supper?  How can we understand what took place this evening so long ago?

I suggest to you there is nothing at all in conflict, or inauthentic, or hollow in the sacramental offering the Lord made of himself at the Last Supper.  And I think you know this already and you understand it in a different context.  So, let’s switch to that other context.

We have all been to weddings.  A couple who has grown in relationship, in trust, and in love for one another determines they desire to commit to one another permanently.  They desire to publicly express their love and to embark on a new mission as spouses who are called to make their love enfleshed and complete in sacrificial self-giving and in openness to the gift of children.  When you attend such a wedding and witness such a couple’s offering of their love to one another, is there anything unusual, inauthentic, or hollow in their offering in that moment at the wedding?  I bet you would say, “No, there isn’t.”  That newly married couple must still enflesh and consummate their vowed love later after forming their spousal relationship at the wedding.  But you easily recognize that simply because they have not yet consummated their vowed love there is nothing inauthentic or out of place or somehow less than true about their love when a couple exchanges their vows on their wedding day.  It is true and real and meaningful on that very day and in that very moment of the wedding when they profess: “I promise to be faithful to you, in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love you and to honor you all the days of my life.”  The same can easily be understood then of the self-offering Jesus makes in his divine love at the Last Supper.  In the course of that meal, taking bread and wine, Jesus offered himself sacramentally, Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity.  He did so in view of what he would accomplish the following day on the Cross.  Yet by virtue of still awaiting the Cross, there was nothing inauthentic or hollow in that first Holy Communion received by the Apostles.  This is how we understand what the Lord did on this evening.

This evening is about the Lord’s offering of himself in sacramental form, a form that is so familiar to us as Catholics.  It would be easy for us to focus this year on what we are not “getting” or not “receiving” this evening, namely distribution of Holy Communion.  But I want to encourage you to not miss the opportunity that history and pandemic affords this Holy Thursday, an opportunity to re-orient our thoughts so that when we arrive at our longed-for return to normal, we will arrive changed and strengthened in faith.  St. Augustine, the son of our parish patroness, in a homily on St. John’s Gospel remarked on the type of expected return of favor when you are invited by someone to a dinner.  Reflecting upon St. John’s account of the Last Supper, St. Augustine remarked that at the Last Supper there follows a consequence for those who ate (cf. Tractate 84).  What Jesus was serving was not merely the type of fare you would find on an ordinary menu and certainly not at an ordinary Passover.  Rather, our Lord was serving divine love, a love that has nothing greater, because he was laying down his life.  Like the Apostles, if we receive and eat the offering of that love then the consequence is that we likewise must return the favor, so to speak.  In other words, as St. John writes elsewhere, “By this we know love, that he laid down his life for us; and we ought to lay down our lives for the brethren” (1 Jn. 3:16).  St. Augustine connects this consequence to what is found in the Book of Proverbs, “When you sit down to eat with a ruler, observe carefully what is before you;” knowing that you are bound to make similar preparations (cf. Proverbs 23:1, the text has difficulties and interpretations beyond the words often published in bibles).  Rather than focusing on what we are not receiving this year, and making Holy Thursday 2020 wasted on lament, might we focus on what we have received so very often before pandemic upended everything?  Might we focus that we have come to the sacred table of our great King – the altar – so many times to receive what is set before us and that the consequence for us is that we likewise are supposed to offer ourselves in imitation of the Lord?  St. Augustine refers to the words of St. Peter who highlights the same consequence: “Christ … suffered for you, leaving you an example, that you should follow in his steps” (1 Pt. 2:21).  If Jesus makes an offering that is the sacrifice of his life for us, and if we have received that offering in Holy Communion so many times, have we returned the favor?  Have we made similar preparations by offering ourselves for him?  Have we laid down our lives to be his disciples?  Have we laid down our tendency to sin and to choose our own plans?  Have we laid down our selfish focus on my time and my wants in order to hear and respond to the vocation God gives us?  Have we laid down our egos and pride in order to fufill the mission we have to be public witnesses to the Lord in this world?  Or do we hide our faith?  Do we take up our own pursuits?  Do we refuse to seriously address and change our sins?  In other words, have we eaten of this offering before // but not yet returned the favor?

As you are encouraged to accept the grace of a spiritual communion this Holy Thursday, perhaps the call to lay down our selfish pursuits and follow the example of the Lord can be our focus.  In other words, perhaps our focus this year can be more on what we ourselves are supposed to give and what we ourselves are supposed to offer, rather than on what we are not receiving this year.  In this way, like the Lord, may we embrace our crosses and be prepared to accomplish in our flesh the offering we speak and we desire by our presence at the sacrificial banquet of our great King and Eternal High Priest!