Homily for Friday
7th Week of Easter
May 17, 2024
Collect
Provincial House, New Rochelle, N.Y.
Given that this was the 4th
day this week in which I had to preach, I pulled out my 2015 homily for this
day and updated it slightly. That homily
also was for my provincial house confreres, but in the 9 intervening years the
entire community had changed over; even I had been missioned elsewhere, then returned.
In
the Collect we prayed about “partaking of so great a gift.” From the structure of the prayer, it appears
that the gift in which we partake is having “the gates of eternity unlocked for
us.”
|
The Gate to Heaven (Andrea di Bonaiuto) |
It
sounds a bit strange—to me, anyway—that the gates of eternity (which in context
means heaven in particular) are unlocked for us. We’re still here, and I’ve never had a
mystical experience that transported me thru those gates.
Yet
we learned in the earliest days of our catechism—those of us who cut our catechetical
teeth on the Baltimore Catechism—that
one of the effects of Baptism is that the gates of heaven were opened for
us. Does that mean they’re open only
when we arrive at the pearly gates?
I
don’t think so, and neither does the Collect, which speaks of our “partaking of
so great a gift,” present participle. We
already partake of this “great gift” of open gates.
What
opened those gates for us? According to
the prayer, “the glorification of Christ and the light of the Holy
Spirit.” Christ’s glorification—his
passion, death, resurrection, and ascension—burst open the gates of the
underworld, we know, setting free souls till then bound by sin and condemned to
death. But then the gates of heaven must
also have been unlocked for those souls to enter: out of the underworld, into the upper world!
But
what do the “unlocked gates of eternity” mean for us who are still here? And how does “the light of the Holy Spirit”
figure in this heavenly mystery?
Heaven
is open to our prayers, our prayers brought by the glorified Christ to the
Father’s throne—Christ, 1st of humanity to pass thru those gates. Heaven is open to shower grace from the
Father upon us thru our brother the Son, and thru the intercessions of the
saints, with whom we have communion thru those open gates.
Heaven
is open to us so that God’s holy ones may reach down to us as our patrons,
protectors, and guides, like Mary, the powerful Help of Christians, and our
individual patrons: Thomas the Doubter, Michael
God’s right hand, Stephen the Protomartyr, Abbot Bernard, William the Pilgrim, James
Son of Thunder, Lyrical David, Timothy the Missionary Companion, Gabriel
Messenger of God, Matthew the Tax Collector, Dominic the Preacher, Bishop Hubert,
and the Martyr Adalbert. Redeemed by the
glory of Christ, joined to us now by the Holy Spirit, bond of love, they labor
spiritually to draw us toward themselves thru those pearly gates.
And
“the light of the Holy Spirit”? The
Spirit is Holy Wisdom, let loose by the Father and the Risen Son to pour his
fire and light upon our hearts and minds so that we may know and desire
spiritual goods, things divine—starting with the mystery who is Christ our
Savior. Led by the Spirit’s light, we’ll
come to Christ in Person on the other side of those heavenly gates.
Heaven
is open to us, comes down to us, is with us in the sacred mysteries, actions of
both Christ and the Spirit. A story from
medieval history—probably legend—illustrates this well. It tells how the Rus, the ancestors of
Russia, became Orthodox Christians.
According to the story, Vladimir, prince of Kyiv, toward the end of the
10th century wanted to convert his people from paganism but was unsure which
faith they should adopt. Accordingly, he
sent ambassadors to the Crimea, where a Muslim people dwelt, to investigate
their religion. The envoys weren’t much
impressed. He sent other ambassadors to
Germany to look at Latin Christianity and, sad to say, they weren’t much
impressed either. He sent a third
delegation to Constantinople, where the ambassadors witnessed the glories of
Byzantine liturgy: splendid vestments,
majestic icons, golden vessels, incense, chanting, and all the ritual—and they
were so impressed that they reported to Vladimir, “We didn’t know whether we
were in heaven or on earth.” Vladimir
and his people converted to Eastern Christianity.
|
The Baptism of St. Vladimir (Viktor Vasnetsov) |
How
wonderful if our celebration of the liturgy does transport us mystically to
heaven; but of a certainty it does bring heaven down to us. For the time being, in these moments when
we’re still in time and history, “may our devotion grow deeper” and “our faith
be strengthened” by our partaking in the heavenly gift we have received.