Homily for Feast of Conversion of St. Paul

Homily for the Feast
of the Conversion of St. Paul
Jan. 25, 2018
Acts 22: 3-16
Nativity, Washington, D.C.

Sometimes we speak of Paul being knocked off his high horse as he approached Damascus to arrest the Christians there.  If you look at the text, you'll see there's no mention of a horse, and he may well have been hiking.

The Conversion of St. Paul (Caravaggio)

That's not an important detail, of course.  There are 3 lessons that might draw from the story, however.

1.  Paul, convinced of his own righteousness and virtue--an ideal Jew, a well-trained Pharisee, as he mentions in his speech--must come to see his error, must be converted.  All of us need to examine ourselves daily and place ourselves before God, asking what is his will, what is his plan for us.  The call to conversion is a constant in Christian life.

2.  Paul is told that in Damascus what Jesus has appointed for him to do will be revealed to him.  Christ has a plan or purpose for each of us, and we must always be seeking to know it, no matter where we are already on our life's journey.  His purpose isn't ordinarily revealed in a vision, of course.  We look for God's plan in our prayer, reading the Scriptures, spiritual direction, wise counsel of a non-spiritual sort, and examination of our own hearts and inclinations.  The world around us--our family, our parish, our jobs, our social lives, the political and social culture, world events--all this is how God reveals to us his purposes.

3.  What Paul was doing to Christians, he was doing to Christ himself.  That lesson is obvious and doesn't need a commentary here.

Homily for 4th Sunday of Ordinary Time

Homily for the
4th Sunday of Ordinary Time
Jan. 28, 2018
Mark 1: 21-28
Nativity, Washington, D.C.

“What is this?  A new teaching with authority” (Mark 1: 27).

Christ exorcising the demon from the man in the synagog at Capernaum

(11th-century fresco)

The demon who confronts Jesus in the synagog knows who he is.  It’s obvious that the devil believes in God.  Knowledge and faith do not in themselves make us holy, or the demons would all be saints.  Knowledge and faith do not in themselves have the power to save us.

Mark 3:31-35 records an episode in which Jesus’ mother and family come to him while he’s teaching.  Mark had mentioned earlier (3:21) that they think he’s lost his mind, and they’re coming to bring him home.  When he’s told they’re outside, he asks who are his mother and brother and sister.  He answers, “Whoever does my Father’s will.”  So even being a blood relative of Jesus is not sufficient for salvation. 

What does have the power to save us?  Recognizing the authority of Jesus and the authority he represents; one must submit to the will of God.  Obviously, the demons refuse to do that.  They choose—it’s their own decision—to reject God, to take damnation rather than submit their own will, their own pride, their own preferences to anyone else.

If the people in this Galilean synagog were so impressed by the teaching of Jesus, we may ask, why didn’t all of them become his followers?  We know, in fact, that many people who followed him initially in Galilee left him after he introduced his teaching on the Bread of Life, the giving of his own flesh and blood for us to eat for eternal life.  Many said, “This saying is too hard” (John 6:60), and they left him.  St. Peter spoke for the 12, however, responding to Jesus, “You have the words of eternal life.  We have come to believe and are convinced that you are the Holy One of God” (6:68-69).  Accepting the teaching authority of Jesus, Peter and other disciples stayed with him.

But those who found his teachings too demanding didn’t stay.  Even if they admired some of his teachings, they weren’t willing to accept everything.  If it wasn’t the Eucharist they found too challenging, it was the call to be converted, to change their moral behavior, to change their internal attitudes, to put our heavenly Father first in their lives, ahead of their own comfort, convenience, addiction to pleasure or power or wealth.  As G.K. Chesterton once said, “The Christian ideal has not been tried and found wanting.  It has been found difficult; and left untried.” (What’s Wrong with the World, pt. 1, ch. 5)

The Gospel puts to us the question of Jesus’ authority.  Do we recognize it?  Do we accept it?

Perhaps we wonder where to look for his authority.  Obviously, he isn’t going to walk into Nativity Church as he stood and taught in the synagog at Capernaum.  But we have his authoritative teaching before us every time we listen to the Scriptures being read, or open them up at home—which we ought to do daily.  By the Scriptures, I mean not only the Gospels, which are our starting place as followers of Jesus, but the entire New Testament as well, and the Old Testament too.  We also find Christ’s authoritative teaching in what his Church teaches us, in the sacred liturgy, in the catechism, in the words of the Holy Father, in the words of our bishops, e.g., what they tell us about racism or capital punishment or the dignity of immigrants or sexual morality.  These teachings, too, we must take in, respect, absorb, and submit to even when they may be challenging or difficult.

For assuredly we don’t want to be like the demon whom Jesus cast out in the synagog, knowing who Jesus is but too proud to allow him into our lives, too stubborn to let him save us.

Marching for Life

Marching for Life

One week ago, Jan. 19, the 45th annual March for Life took place on the National Mall and the streets of Washington, D.C.  I don't know why it was on the 19th this year rather than on the anniversary of Roe v. Wade, Jan. 22, which made abortion on demand the law of our country.

This year our protest march was blessed with sunny skies and unusually warm temperatures, reaching the mid-40s.  That fine weather probably helped bring out a crowd in excess of 100,000 (according to the March organizers).  It was the biggest turnout that I've taken part in, altho my last trip to D.C. for the March was in the 1990s, I think.

Fr. Dieunel Victor arranged for 50 Don Bosco Cristo Rey students and staff to take part, starting with the youth rally and Mass in the Capital One Arena.  (A few students canceled, but we still had 43 participants.)

Fr. Dieunel and I left our house in Silver Spring to drive downtown and park; while he went to meet the students at the Metro station, I went into the arena a bit after 5:30 and waited (praying the Breviary and the Rosary) for confessions to be set up.  The arena opened to the youths at 6:30, and very shortly all the confessors were busy.  I don't know how many of us there were--maybe 4 dozen--set up in a 2d-level lounge, about 10' apart.  No danger of anyone being overheard, due to a lot of ambient noise, including music from the arena floor.  Young people, their chaperones, and some others just kept coming for the sacrament, and we priests were busy for almost 2 hours, till confessions were shut down in preparation for the celebration of the Eucharist.

The March pilgrims came from all over the Eastern half of the U.S., as far away as Minnesota and Texas.  They came as church groups, school groups, associations of the faithful, and individuals.  We had Salesian groups from New Rochelle, Ramsey, N.J., and North Haledon, N.J., besides our DBCR contingent.

Some of our DBCR kids at Capital One Arena.

The arena seats 20,356 people (Wiki), and there weren't many empty seats.  The clergy included Cardinal Wuerl presiding, Cardinal DiNardo, the papal nuncio, and about 20 other bishops; well over 100 priests, and various deacons.  There were many religious, seminarians, and of course the young people.  It was an enthusiastic crowd, and Cardinal Wuerl warmly greeted everyone before introducing each of the bishops.  Notwithstanding the size of the crowd and the arena venue, it was a reverent Mass from beginning to end.

Lunch break.

After Mass, our DBCR group eventually made its way to the Natural History Museum to meet up with some of the other Salesian groups, then split up to find lunch.  I went with one group of 9 students to a taco place several blocks away (where I ate my brown-bag lunch of turkey and cheese sandwich and yogurt).  We all reassembled on the Museum steps at 12:15 and waited for the March.  Fr. Abe Feliciano addressed our assembly briefly (photo).

We could hear vague noises from down the Mall, the speeches going on, but nothing clearly heard.  After a while the Marching 100 from St. Augustine HS in New Orleans arrived on the street below us and played some rousing music. 

The outstanding Marching 100 from St. Augustine HS in New Orleans.

We started to move up Madison Dr. around 1:00 p.m. but didn't get very far before everyone halted outside the National Gallery of Art on Constitution Ave., and we waited a long time for the March to get organized, at least half an hour and probably longer.

Our gang waiting on Constitution Ave. for the March to get organized.

The crowd was very orderly from beginning to end.  The most the D.C. police had to do was to remind people to stay on the curb.  Even when a few (very few) counter-demonstrators appeared, the worst that happened was shouts of "pro-life! pro-life!" as they passed by.

The line of march finally got itself together and came up the avenue at 1:45.

Our DBCR group fell into line near the head of the march but gradually filtered back as others passed us by.

Moving up Constitution Ave. toward the Capitol.

From Capitol Hill, looking back down Constitution Ave.

It took us about half an hour to get onto First Ave. between the Capitol and the Supreme Court; the space filled up rapidly as the tide of marchers kept pouring in.  It appeared that some of the marchers fell back onto the Capitol grounds, where there was ample room.

Our DBCR kids didn't stay there long, as nothing much was happening except a few speeches closer to the Court.  Eventually Fr. Dieunel and I were left with one junior girl, and after about half an hour we left, doing thru the Capitol grounds because hordes of marchers were still coming up Constitution Ave. as far as we could see.  Amazing!  Wonderful!

Our students seem to have enjoyed the whole day's experience, as long as it was.  The best part was the presence of thousands of young people--high school and college kids--taking part, taking a stand in favor of human life from its beginnings.

St. Francis de Sales, Model Communicator-Pastor

St. Francis de Sales,

Model Communicator-Pastor

(ANS - Rome – January 24) – Gathering with the bishops of Peru last week, Pope Francis began his address speaking of the great bishop St. Turibius of Mogrovejo, proposing him as an example of a pastor: “He wanted to go to the other [river] bank in search of those who were far away and those who were missing. To this end, he had to leave the comforts of his episcopal see and travel across the territory entrusted to him, in continual pastoral visits, trying to reach and stay wherever he was needed.... Today we would call him a ‘street’ bishop – a bishop with the soles of his shoes consumed by walking, from encounters to announce the Gospel to everyone, in all places, on all occasions, without delay, without repulsion and without fear.”

Speaking of this pastor, the Pope reminds us of many pastors; among them St. Francis de Sales, an innovative man and communicator par excellence, who in his time sought the way to bring people to the faith with profound creativity; he is considered a tireless communicator of truth and the Gospel through his simple, handmade writings distributed door to door, house after house.

Like all great communicators, he had an understanding of the language of his time, understood the concerns and experiences of his people, discovered their deepest needs; from there, he arrived at the truth.

These communicators and pastors who did not refuse or fail to see the tensions of their time, nor the differences within their people, came to understand perfectly that words and writings are not enough; they also intuited that if we want to reach the hearts and minds of people and truly communicate with them, it is necessary to transform one’s own attitude of life, assume as one’s own those very same values one wishes to communicate.

St. Francis de Sales was aware that evangelization could not take place at any distance from charity; the best way to communicate the truth was to shape the gift of Jesus into his own life for the love of everyone and make of his own person and his own life the means of transmitting the message.

St. Turibius of Mogrovejo and St. Frances de Sales lived in different social contexts, but both men shared this profound intuition of understanding the reality of their time, capable of sharing questions and doubts, able to walk a path, free themselves from any presumption of omnipotence, and humbly put themselves at the service of the common good.

Both serve as examples and challenges for Catholic communicators everywhere as every era stands as an invitation to learn in order to speak “giving a reason for our hope” (1 Pet 3:15), to spread the Gospel as the Pope proposes today: denouncing social injustices, promoting the unity of the Church, and speaking the current languages of today’s young people.

Finally, both figures are examples of a Church that is constantly on the move, shepherds who wore out their shoes walking the streets and went wherever they were needed; both tried to reach the other shores, not only geographically, but existentially approaching those who were far away with the keen desire to meet and know them, to understand their needs, and to propose the Gospel to them.

Homily for 3d Sunday of Ordinary Time

Homily for the
3d Sunday of Ordinary Time
Jan. 21, 2018
Mark 1: 14-20
Visitation Convent, Georgetown, D.C.

Jesus Calling the Sons of Zebedee

(Marco Basaiti)

Poor old Zebedee!  His 2 sons go running off after some wandering rabbi and leave him in his boat with his unmended nets.  Did he mutter, “Kids these days!,” or did he shout something in their wake that Donald Trump might wish he’d said?

Let us attend, however, to what Jesus says, in the wake of Mark’s foreboding note, “After John had been arrested” (1:14)—a fate lying ahead of Jesus, too.

So, from somewhere—we’re not told precisely, but Mark has just reported in 2 terse sentences that Jesus was tempted in the desert after John had baptized him (1:12-13).  How long a gap between that and John’s arrest?  We don’t know.  Did Jesus stay for a while with John and, after his arrest, decide to return homeward?  We don’t know, but the 1st chapter of John’s Gospel could be read that way.

Anyhow, now he’s come back to Galilee, and he comes with a message, perhaps the fruit of his meditation while in the desert, and certainly the fruit of the Holy Spirit’s descent on him at his baptism (1:10).

Jesus comes “proclaiming the gospel of God,” Mark says (1:14).  Gospel means “good news.”  It’s “of God,” which means both “about God” and “from God.”

And what is this “good news”?  “This is the time of fulfillment.  The kingdom of God is at hand.  Repent, and believe in the gospel” (1:15).  “The time” isn’t chronological time, time ticking on a clock, like how many days or hours till the government runs out of borrowing authority; but existential time, the time of God’s designs:  God’s people have been waiting for him to break again into history as he did at the exodus or the anointing of David—and here he comes, in the person of Jesus of Nazareth.  The time is fulfilled!

“The kingdom of God is at hand.”  God rules the earth, human affairs, the destinies of nations and of human beings.  The period of Satan’s rule is over, however much he may fight back in a rear-guard action.  To quote my confrere Scripture scholar Fr. Frank Moloney, “The reigning power of God is ‘at the door.’”[1]

If that’s true, what are people to do?  “Repent, and believe in the gospel.”  Repent means to turn around, i.e., turn one’s life around, be converted, return to God from any manner of living or any attitude of heart that is not God-centered.

Be converted to what?  To belief in the Gospel, that “gospel of God” just mentioned.  What is God’s good news?  The death, resurrection, and glorification of Jesus of Nazareth, the Son of God (1:1).  God reigns in the person of Jesus:  his preaching, his activity in Galilee and Jerusalem; in his passion, death, and resurrection, in his victory over Satan and over sin.

All this is good news because Jesus comes to heal us, to preach to us God’s desire to restore humanity to his good graces thru the forgiveness of our sins, and ultimately to give us a share in Christ’s resurrection.  Belief in this, and of course action based on that belief, places one under God’s rule, gives one a place in the kingdom of God.  

As Jesus preaches the nearness of the kingdom and its demands, he calls these 4 men to follow him.  He may already have met them, conversed with them, intrigued them with his understanding of our heavenly Father, sparked in them a suspicion of his mission; John 1 speaks of this.  In any case, now their response is immediate:  “They abandoned their nets and followed him” (1:18).  There’s a conversion there, a turning from a way of life to embrace a new and radically different one:  discipleship and mission.

Mark doesn’t tell us this story for our admiration, as we may admire the rescue of 300,000 Tommies from the beach at Dunkirk.  He tells us because the message of Jesus is aimed at us and demands our immediate response too.  What in our life is holding us back from fully embracing the rule of God?  What is there yet in our actions, our manner, our words, our attitudes that we need to jettison as completely as Andrew and Simon, James and John did their nets, their livelihood, even their father?  How ready are we to embrace Jesus as the pattern of our thinking and action, as the key to our membership in the kingdom of God?

---

          [1] The Gospel of Mark: A Commentary (Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 2002), p. 49.

Homily for Thursday, Week 2 of Ordinary Time

Homily for Thursday, Week 2
of Ordinary Time
Year II

Jan. 18, 2018
1 Sam 18: 6-9; 19: 1-7
Nativity, Washington, D.C.

We heard yesterday of David’s battle against Goliath and the great victory that Israel won following that (1 Sam 17).  Chapters follow that report David’s service in Saul’s army and more victories in battle.  Today we hear how popular he’s become among all the people, including in Saul’s own household.  Both his victories and his popularity are results of his favor with God, marked by his anointing as the next king of Israel (our reading on Tuesday: 1 Sam 16:1-13).  He is empowered by God.

Saul, on the other hand, has been disowned by God because he hasn’t faithfully obeyed God’s wishes, as we heard in Monday’s reading (1 Sam 15:16-23).  Aware of that and aware of David’s popularity, he begins to act jealously and irrationally.  Some believe he may have been suffering from schizophrenia.  He begins to plot against David, trying both directly and indirectly to kill him, eventually compelling David to flee.  We start to read about that today, and you can read a lot more in the following chapters (ch. 18-27) at home.

Saul Threatening David

(José [Jusepe] Leonardo de Chavier)

But Saul’s son Jonathan, the heir to his throne, has befriended David.  They become like brothers to each other, intensely loyal, each pledging to defend and protect the other.  In today’s reading, Jonathan is already doing that in the face of his father’s hatred (19:1-7).  David promises that he will always protect Jonathan’s descendants—a pledge he does in fact carry out after Jonathan falls in battle alongside his father (1 Sam 31).

In our reading today we witness the power of God enabling his chosen one to carry out the mission given to him.  Each of us is likewise empowered to live out our own vocation, whatever it may be.  God’s favor rests on us, as it did on David, for we too have been chosen and anointed—by Baptism and Confirmation.

Then we see what evil jealousy drives people to.  We may have felt this vice in our own hearts or been victims of it.  Jealousy may lead us to wish harm to others, to attempt to harm others by word or by deed.  It’s a grave temptation, and we have to be on guard against it.

Finally, we see the friendship and loyalty between Jonathan and David.  How precious is a solid friendship, especially a spiritual one!  How precious is the virtue of loyalty when it’s based on truth and goodness.  It’s important for us to have good, loyal friends who will stand with us and with whom we will stand in times of need and in happy times.

Homily for Wednesday, Week 2 of Ordinary Time

Homily for Wednesday, Week 2
of Ordinary Time
Year II
Jan. 17, 2018

1 Sam 17: 32-33, 37, 40-51

In yesterday's 1st reading (1 Sam 16:1-13) we heard of the Lord's selection of David to replace Saul as king of Israel after Saul proved unfaithful to God and was rejected (Monday's reading, 1 Sam 15:16-23).  Today we hear the familiar story of David's battle against Goliath.

God chose David for a very special purpose, to be the true shepherd of his people Israel.  That role for the kings of Israel is highlighted by David's life as a shepherd boy, his being called, literally, from the pasture to be anointed king, and today by his recollection of how the Lord helped him defend the flock against predators and his use of a shepherd's gear in his battle.

Victorious David with Goliath's Head

(Antiveduto Grammatica)

God calls every one of us for some purpose, large or small.  Our success in life and our happiness will follow from our discovering that purpose and following it, in service to God and to our fellow human beings (who remain God's flock).

David fulfilled his purpose by relying totally on God.  From a human perspective, he had no chance of victory over the veteran giant warrior champion of the Philistines.  That didn't matter with God on his side.

In our way thru life we encounter powerful enemies, most especially God's archenemy, the Devil.  Given our moral frailty, we have no hope of victory--except that God is with us, and if we trust him and do our best to be faithful, then God will bring us to victory.

Within that framework of trust, David used the tools he had at hand, specifically his sling and the stones he'd chosen (using his experience about which ones would serve best).  And having struck the giant down, he used another tool at hand, Goliath's own sword, to dispatch him.

God has given us tools--talents, spiritual guides, the Scriptures, the sacraments, etc.--to assist us in fulfilling our mission, our purpose in life.  We use them under his leadership and guidance to do what we need to do.

Goliath, on the other hand, relied upon himself--his brute strength, his warrior's skills, his weapons--and upon lies and falsehoods (his false gods).  That didn't work out so well for him.

We know from experience that relying on ourselves to be virtuous and to be successful in following Christ doesn't work too well.  Any form of falsehood (self-deception or deceiving others), any form of idolatry (trusting in anything that is not God) undoes us.  So, again, we need to do as David did and put our trust in the Lord, find our strength in him.

Life is fragile, precious, unpredictable"

“Life is fragile, precious, unpredictable”

an ANS Editorial, January 15, 2018

Holly Butcher Photo by Facebook

We are in the first weeks of a new year, which means a blank page wherein to write a new chapter in our lives. With the new year, one makes resolutions and looks at the calendar thinking about commitments to be made and forthcoming holidays to enjoy. Surely none of us would stop for a moment to think about the possibility of not reaching the end of the year.

“It’s a strange thing to realize and accept that you’re going to die at 26,” wrote Holly Butcher, a 27-year-old Australian girl who died of a tumor a few days ago, in a message to all those lucky enough to be alive. Once Holly learned of the severity of her illness and the short time she still had to live, she began to appreciate the small details of her life more and stopped worrying about the insignificant aspects of her life. She put aside ridiculous things like, “sleeping badly because your beautiful children kept you awake,” “having cellulite,” and so on.

“Use your money to live experiences,” “listen to music, really listen to it,” “hug your dog,” “talk to your friends,” “eat your cake without feeling guilty,” and “say ‘no’ to the things you really don’t want to do” – these are some of the suggestions of this young Australian woman.

To those dependent or hooked on social networks, remember that life is meant to be lived and not just to be shared on a screen. “Everything is SO insignificant when looking at life as a whole, in its entirety. I’m seeing my body losing itself right here in front of me, and I can’t do anything about it. All I want for now is to be able to have one more birthday or Christmas with my family, or just another day with my boyfriend and my dog. Just one more.”

“Give, give, give. It is true that one is happy doing things for others rather than for oneself. I wish I had done more. It’s strange to have money to spend at the end – when you’re dying. If you can share with those who are next to you, buy them a plant, a candle, a small gift, and tell them that you love them.

“Use your money for experiences.... Or at least do not miss out on experiences because you spent all your money on superfluous things.

“Try hard to make that day trip to the sea you’ve been postponing. Immerse your feet in the water and dig into the sand with your toes. Wet your face with salt water.

“Tell your loved ones that you love them whenever you have the opportunity, and love them with everything you have.

“Also, remember that if something is making you feel bad, you have the power to change it: at work or in love, or anything else. Have enough willpower to change. You do not know how much time you have on this earth, so do not waste it by living in distress or pain. I know that these are things that have always been said, but they couldn’t be more true.”

Holly concludes her reflection here, but we are all invited to cultivate a sense of gratitude to God for this great gift of life, so fragile, precious, and unpredictable.

Source: https://www.facebook.com/hollybutcher90/posts/10213711745460694

Fr. Tom's Thanks: "You have purchased freedom for me"

Fr. Tom’s Thanks: “You have purchased freedom for me”

(ANS – Bangalore, India – January 9) – With conviction and serenity, with that calm faith that has marked his public talks since he was set free, Fr. Tom Uzhunnalil through a short video thanked the Salesians, the Salesian Family, and all the people who during the 18 months of his captivity in Yemen prayed and offered sacrifices for him. He said, “I understand that if I was not hurt by my captors, if my mind was sane, if I was tranquil, all these are the fruit of your prayers and your sacrifices.”

His message was recorded and broadcast in the first days of January, almost a wish for the new year, to signify the beginning of a new page in his life, after his long experience of isolation and slow recovery.

Fr. Tom’s gratitude is addressed to God, first of all, and then spreads throughout the Congregation and the Salesian Family: “In the Lord’s name I wish to thank our Rector Major, the [general] council, all the provincials of the entire Salesian world, the rectors of the various communities, the confreres, the novices, the aspirants, and their families, in short, the entire Salesian Family who have been with me.”

“You have purchased freedom for me from the Lord,” he concludes, finally, specifying at the same time how he conceives the future of his vocation and his service for the Church and for society: “My mission in the coming years, or the period that the Lord has left for me, is to bear witness to this fact, that the prayers of each of us are heard by the Lord and we are blessed.”

The complete video is available on the ANSChannel on YouTube in the original English version and with subtitles in Italian and Spanish.

Homily for 2d Sunday of Ordinary Time

Homily for the
2d Sunday of Ordinary Time
Jan. 14, 2018
1 Cor 6: 13-15, 17-20
St. Bernardine of Siena, Suitland, Md.

“Do you not know that your bodies are members of Christ?” (1 Cor 6: 15).

8th-c. codex of 1 Corinthians

(Wikipedia)

This evening we begin 5 Sundays of readings from the middle of St. Paul’s 1st Letter to the Corinthians.  Corinth in the 1st century was the biggest and most important city in Greece, a seaport and a crossroads, with about 100,000 inhabitants—2/3 of whom were slaves.  The little Christian community there were Paul’s own converts and dear friends among whom he’d lived for 18 months on his 2nd missionary journey in 51-52 A.D.

Now, from a distance, possibly from Ephesus, he’s writing to them in the spring of 57 to encourage them to persevere in the faith, to answer some doctrinal and ethical questions they’d put to him, to chastise some wrongdoers, and to settle some disputes.  1st-century Christians were just as real as we are and had some of the same challenges we do.

Corinth was a notoriously wicked city, well known for its vices.  There’s a Greek word, korinthiazesthai, that means “to act like a Corinthian”; it’s a euphemism for sexual depravity.  In such a context, the city’s few Christians were under constant moral assault, besides the social pressure of being a tiny, unpopular minority and mostly from the lower social classes.

With constant temptations all around them, Paul reminds the Corinthian Church that their entire persons, both soul and body, belong to Christ.  When we’re baptized, Christ lays claim to us.  He seals us—brands us—as his own and pours his Spirit upon us, turning us into temples of the Holy Spirit, as Paul states (6:19).  He also alludes to the teaching of Genesis (2:24) that a man and a woman become one flesh, one body, thru their marital union; by our Baptism, he says, and our reception of the Eucharist, I add, we become one body with Christ:  “Whoever is joined to the Lord becomes one spirit with him” (6:17), shares the same Holy Spirit that filled Jesus of Nazareth.

We’ve often heard people proclaim, “It’s my body, and I can do what I want with it.”  It’s an argument used not only to defend so-called sexual liberation but also to support abortion, drug use, and suicide.  “It’s my body” is a useful statement in the age of “#MeToo”—keep your piggish hands off my body.  “It’s my body” has a more established appeal, an obvious appeal, in a culture that worships individualism—a form of idolatry that infects the American body politic with the deadly disease of intellectual and moral relativism.  On that, read David Brooks’s op-ed column in yesterday’s NYT, ominously titled “How Democracies Perish.”[1]

So Paul, and Christian teaching generally, takes exception to any such claim:  “Do you not know that your bodies are members of Christ … and that you are not your own?” (6:15,19).  No part of the Christian—body, heart, mind, soul—is his or her own.  We are all one body with Christ, one heart, one mind, one spirit—if we are living out the commitment of our Baptism and Confirmation, if we are receiving the Body and Blood of Christ worthily and not sacrilegiously.  (In this same letter to the Corinthians, Paul warns the Church against sacrilegious participation in the Eucharist:  “Whoever eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord unworthily will have to answer for the body and blood of the Lord.  A person should examine himself, and so eat the bread and drink the cup.  For anyone who eats and drinks without discerning the body, eats and drinks judgment on himself” (11:27-29).

St. Paul preaching amid ruins

(Giovanni Paolo Panini)

According to Paul, sexual purity is a most serious requirement of Christian life.  “The body is not for immorality but for the Lord” (6:13).  The word translated as “immorality”—porneia—literally means “fornication.”  He continues, “The Lord [i.e., Christ] is for the body; God raised the Lord and will also raise us by his power” (6:13-14).  One commentary observes, “Paul is concerned that fornication, by polluting the physical body, would render believers ineligible for resurrection.”[2]  If we are joined to Christ, we will be raised up with him on the Last Day; but if we are joined to him, we can’t enter some sexual union that excludes him.  (Christian marriage explicitly includes him and testifies to the mutual and total love between him and the rest of his Body, the Church.)

Then Paul commands, in 2 words, “Avoid immorality”—literally, “Avoid fornication” (6:18).  Don’t use your very own body to sin against the Holy Spirit, whose temple you are (6:19), consecrated in Baptism; who binds you to the life of the Holy Trinity.

To be sure, sexual sins aren’t the only sins that Paul deals with in this chapter of the letter.  Just 3 and 4 verses before the start of this evening’s passage, he’d written:  “Do you not know that the unjust will not inherit the kingdom of God?  Do not be deceived; neither fornicators nor idolaters nor adulterers nor boy prostitutes nor sodomites nor thieves nor the greedy nor drunkards nor slanderers nor robbers will inherit the kingdom of God” (6:9-10).  Then he reminds the Church that some of them used to practice those vices but then they were washed clean and sanctified “in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and in the Spirit of our God” (6:11).

Paul clinches his argument against impurity by reminding us that Christ has purchased us for God at the price of his own blood (6:20).  We’ve been ransomed from the filth of paganism, from slavery to the Devil, by the cross of Christ.  Again, we are not our own because Christ has purchased us—signed, sealed, and delivered in Baptism and by the indwelling of the Holy Spirit.

“Therefore glorify God in your body” (6:20).  Use your body only for the glory of God and not as an instrument of sin.  In your body praise God thru worship, as we’re doing here; carry out works of mercy; live virtuously in your families, your workplaces and schools, your social interactions; offer to God your physical sufferings in union with Jesus crucified.  St. John Vianney offers us some solid advice for practicing chastity:  “1st, be very vigilant about what we look at, and what we think and say and do; 2d, have recourse to prayer; 3d, frequent the sacraments worthily; 4th, fly from anything that might tempt us to sin; 5th, have great devotion to the Blessed Virgin.  If we do all that, then, no matter what our enemies do, no matter how frail this virtue be, we can be quite sure of holding on to it.”[3]

Then we’ll stay with Christ, abide with Christ, like the disciples who followed him in today’s gospel (John 1:35-42), not just for a few hours but forever.

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     [1] https://www.nytimes.com/2018/01/11/opinion/how-democracies-perish.html?ref=todayspaper

     [2] Amy-Jill Levine and Marc Zvi Brettler, eds., The Jewish Annotated New Testament, 2d ed. (NY: OUP, 2017), p. 332.

     [3] Sermon the 17th Sunday after Pentecost, 2, cited in The Navarre Bible: The Letters of Saint Paul (NY: Scepter, 2015), p. 222, slightly adapted.

Homily for Solemnity of Epiphany

Homily for the
Solemnity of the Epiphany

Jan. 4, 2004

Is 60: 1-6
Epiphany, Tampa
Nativity, Brandon, Fla.

“Rise up in splendor, Jerusalem!  Your light has come, the glory of the Lord shines upon you” (Is 60: 1).

The New Jerusalem, after Dore'

by Laura Sotka

Several generations of historians, up to and including when most of us were in school, were accustomed to speak of the early Middle Ages as “the Dark Ages.”  The splendor of Greco-Roman civilization—its learning, its law, its commerce, the Pax Romana—were swamped in a wild tide of invasions from the east and north; barbarian darkness settled over most of Europe, from the 5th to the 12th centuries.  Extensive parts of the old Roman Empire were repaganized.  Schools, libraries, and monasteries were destroyed.  Travel and trade virtually ceased.  Lawlessness was everywhere.  Warfare was constant.

Even before Thomas Cahill in 1995 published How the Irish Saved Civilization, we realized that a picture of universal darkness for 8 centuries was an oversimplification.  It’s no simplification, however, to say that humanity dwelt in spiritual darkness until our Savior was made known to us.

In the gospel for the solemnity of the Epiphany, the Magi sought out Christ, “the newborn king of the Jews,” to pay homage to him (Matt 2:2) and offer him precious gifts.  We note in passing that the Magi were learned men (wise men) of the pagan world, perhaps astrologers, as one translation puts it, perhaps wizards like King Arthur’s Merlin or Tolkien’s Gandalf, perhaps priests of some pagan deity.  They definitely weren’t kings, and St. Matthew gives no indication at all as to their number.

The Magi bring gifts for the God-man, signaling that all the world—not just the Jews—is to find in this child its Savior.  Yet the child is the real gift-giver to the world, to Jew and Gentile alike.

This child, Jesus, born in Bethlehem of Judah, brings us the gift of light.  The whole world lay shrouded in darkness; thick clouds covered the peoples (cf. Is 60:2).  Sin, despair, violence, and death were our masters.  But Jesus has brought us forgiveness, hope, peace, and life.  He is the light of the world, leading us on the path to everlasting light.  All nations shall walk in the light of Israel’s shepherd (cf. Is 60:3, Matt 2:6).

The Magi saw a star rise and followed it.  That star, that remarkable light, was the heavenly portent announcing that the real Dark Ages were over.  At the beginning of his gospel, St. John declares, “The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world,” and in Jesus Christ we saw God’s own glory, the light shining in our darkness (John 1:9,14,5), the light driving out the darkness of evil.

As regards the so-called Dark Ages of medieval Europe, Thomas Cahill’s premise is that the Irish saved civilization because Christian monks and nuns preserved the ancient learning, as well as the Faith, and as missionaries spread both Faith and learning thruout Western Europe between the 5th and 10th centuries.  Thru them Christ became the light of the world morally, spiritually, and culturally.  The new learning of the Renaissance, moreover, was largely Church-sponsored:  the universities grew out of the monastery schools and were run by the Church; friars like the Dominican St. Albert the Great at Cologne and Paris, and the Franciscan Roger Bacon at Oxford, were renowned scientists; the artists and poets were deeply religious people like Blessed Fra Angelico, Dante, and Giotto; medieval cathedrals such as those at Chartres and Cologne were simultaneously works of both profound devotion and the highest art; the most famous scholars were also saints like Anselm of Canterbury, Thomas Aquinas, Bonaventure, and Duns Scotus.  What Isaiah spoke to Jerusalem hundreds of years before Christ we may apply to a society permeated by the influence of Christ:  “Nations shall walk by your light, and kings by your shining radiance” (60:3).

Today, Epiphany, the Son of God is revealed to the world.  “He shall govern [God’s] people with justice and [God’s] afflicted ones with judgment.  Justice shall flower in his days, and profound peace” (Ps 72:2,7).  Those who pay homage to him—those who become his subjects—know the justice of God’s grace; they know peace of heart.  They are agents of justice and peace and God’s love, as well as culture, to their families and friends, to their towns and workplaces.  Like the Irish missionaries and the medieval scholars and artists, they still today reflect the light of the divine sun to mankind; in them—in us—Christ continues to overcome the darkness and reveal himself to the world.

I Am the light of the World

(Statue at USCCB Headquarters, Washington)

St. Matthew tells us that the Magi “departed for their country” after they had paid their homage to the child Jesus.  And that’s the end of their story.  Our story, however, can’t end with our homage to Christ the Lord on Sunday—or Saturday nite.  If he is our Lord and Savior, we have to take him home with us, take him to school with us, take him to work with us, take him to market with us, take him on the highways with us, take him wherever we go, whatever we do.  We can’t depart from him, can’t leave him behind—not if his justice and his peace are ever to flower in our time, our society to be permeated by the influence of Christ, “nations walking by our light, and kings,” presidents, and prime ministers “by our shining radiance.”  You and I have to be instruments of his justice and peace and love.  He is the light of the world, but we have to allow his light to shine thru us.  We have to work at forgiving and reconciling, at caring for the needy and the unwanted and the helpless—within our little personal worlds, and within the great world of the human family, as, e.g., the U.S. has just done for the earthquake victims in Iran despite the poor relations between our governments.  We’re all familiar, I suppose, with the hymn “This Little Light of Mine.”  The light is really Christ’s.  Our task is to let his light shine thru us upon the whole world.

Homily for Solemnity of Mary, Mother of God

Homily for the Solemnity
of Mary, Mother of God
Jan. 1, 1983
Gal 4: 4-7
St. Vincent de Paul, Charlotte, N.C.

Having stolen a homily for yesterday from my friend Deacon Greg (see below), today I steal one from my own archive.

“When the designated time had come, God sent forth his Son born of woman, … so that we might receive our status as adopted sons” (Gal 4: 4).

This passing reference is St. Paul’s only allusion to Mary, mother of the Savior.  In this verse, he makes 3 assertions that are important for us:  1) God designated the time. 2) The Messiah was born of a human mother. 3) God intended to adopt us as his children.

“When the designated time had come….”  God is carrying out a plan, and of course that plan is his own and no one else’s.  During the period of the Law, the times of the OT, God was preparing us for our special calling.  Now his chosen moment has arrived in human history.

Virgin of the Grapes by Pierre Mignard

“God sent forth his Son born of a woman….”  Since we’re celebrating Mary’s motherhood within the context of Christmas, this is our most important consideration today.  God’s Son was born of an earthly mother.  God has entered time and space in the most direct and tangible form, and he has done so through the simplest, most touching, most elemental way—by becoming a gurgling, crying, hungry, wet baby boy born of a mother who had carried him for 9 months.

The Eternal Father chose a young, virtuous country girl named Mary.  Historically speaking, we know next to nothing about her.  She came from an insignificant village in Galilee called Nazareth; her husband’s name was Joseph; and the two of them were very devout.  Theologically, we know that she accepted a unique and difficult role from God; to be the mother of the Messiah, a son to be conceived in her solely by the power of the Lord of Creation and her own consent.

We assume that Mary loved her son deeply, that she taught him to eat, talk, walk, and pray.  She must have kissed his bruises, nursed his illnesses, and soothed his childish fears.  She and Joseph taught him to work and to appreciate the traditions of their people, to respect the village elders and the rabbis, possibly to distrust the Romans and Herod and the tax collectors. If we make the reasonable assumption that they were peasants, Mary didn’t have to teach Jesus to clean his room because he didn’t have one; their home would have had only one room for the 3 of them, and a workshop for Joseph.

By making an ordinary girl—of course she was extraordinary in her sincere piety—by making this otherwise ordinary girl his Son’s mother, the Almighty has dignified not only that simple and holy girl but all mothers and all members of the human race.  Having a mother was an important part of the experience of Jesus.  Having a mother demonstrates his humanity, his complete sharing in who and what we are.  That is why the Church has always put so much importance on Mary’s motherhood.

“…so that we might receive our status as adopted sons.”  The Eternal Father has only one natural son, and that is the one we call the Son of God, the 2d Person of the Trinity, the one whose birth in the flesh as Jesus of Nazareth we celebrate.  But why was Jesus born—born of an earthly mother?  Why didn’t he just appear like an angel or some kind of E.T.?  Why he shared our humanity, even unto death, was so that God might adopt us as his children and his heirs in Christ.  If the Messiah is not human, he has no relation to us.  But he is, and he does.  If he isn’t truly God’s Son, he can’t make us his divine brothers and coheirs in Baptism and Confirmation.  But he is, and he does.  And Mary’s motherhood is the vital necessary link, the divine and human interconnection in the unfolding of God’s plan for our salvation.

May God be praised for loving us and choosing to adopt us as his own sons and daughters!

May the Virgin Mary be praised for accepting her difficult and loving role in God’s plan for us!

May God bless each of us with obedience and courage like Mary’s to see and accept what he has in mind for us.