Homily: 6th Sunday in Easter – Cycle A
Has anyone ever asked you for “the reason for your hope”? Saint Peter exhorted the early Christians to “always be ready to give an explanation to anyone who asks you for a reason for your hope”, which betrays a presumption that 1) they would be living their lives in such a way that people around them would think, “They seem to have a hope that is unreasonable” and 2) that these people would then inquire about their hope: because (presumably) their hope was attractive and these others would desire to know more about it. And so, as I read the words of our second reading today, I asked myself that question: “Has anyone ever asked you for the reason for your hope?” I was challenged by the question and it made me stop and reflect. I’ll admit to you now that It wasn’t immediately apparent to me that anyone had ever asked me this question.
Upon further reflection, I realized that I had received that question on a number of occasions, but in a different form. Since being ordained a priest, I have had numerous people ask me, “So, why did you decide to become a priest?” In sharing all of the circumstantial reasons why I followed this calling, I always communicated the fundamental hope I had, that undergirded it all: “That God so loved the world (and, therefore, me!) that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish, but have eternal life.” Therefore, I followed him and his calling, so that I might enjoy the bliss of eternal life.
Still, the question challenged me. “Beyond the clerical clothing and the countercultural way of living that the clothing symbolizes (what I mean by that is the life of celibacy that is part of living the ministerial priesthood), does my life challenge people to ask, ‘How can you live with such hope?’ and, therefore, ‘What is the reason for your hope?’” The answer I came up with was both “yes” and “no”. “Yes” because living the life of a priest in our current culture definitely gives sign to a hope that is not of this world and so should challenge people to question how that makes any sense. “No” because I am still attracted to and “enslave” myself to the material things of this world. For example, I care a little too much about the car that I drive and how it makes me “look”; I worry myself about how people will think about how I dress; and I am often distracted from thinking about the more important things (things like: relationships, connection, and living the virtues) by thinking about more worldly things: like how I will take advantage to indulge in my favorite foods or drink.
As I acknowledged these realities in my life, I was reminded of and challenged by a reading I came across within the last week. It was from a letter to Diognetus, who was a high-ranking pagan official in the second century, who had asked for an explanation about the Christians and their way of life. The author of the letter is unknown, but its contents are worth quoting at length here so as to be a reminder to all of us about what it means to live as Christians so as to inspire others to ask us “the reason for our hope”. The letter says:
Christians are indistinguishable from other men either by nationality, language or customs. They do not inhabit separate cities of their own, or speak a strange dialect, or follow some outlandish way of life. Their teaching is not based upon reveries inspired by the curiosity of men. Unlike some other people, they champion no purely human doctrine. With regard to dress, food and manner of life in general, they follow the customs of whatever city they happen to be living in, whether it is Greek or foreign.
And yet there is something extraordinary about their lives. They live in their own countries as though they were only passing through. They play their full role as citizens, but labor under all the disabilities of aliens. Any country can be their homeland, but for them their homeland, wherever it may be, is a foreign country. Like others, they marry and have children, but they do not expose them. They share their meals, but not their wives. They live in the flesh, but they are not governed by the desires of the flesh. They pass their days upon earth, but they are citizens of heaven. Obedient to the laws, they yet live on a level that transcends the law.
Christians love all men, but all men persecute them. Condemned because they are not understood, they are put to death, but raised to life again. They live in poverty, but enrich many; they are totally destitute, but possess an abundance of everything. They suffer dishonor, but that is their glory. They are defamed, but vindicated. A blessing is their answer to abuse, deference their response to insult. For the good they do they receive the punishment of malefactors, but even then they rejoice, as though receiving the gift of life. They are attacked by the Jews as aliens, they are persecuted by the Greeks, yet no one can explain the reason for this hatred.
I think that we all can agree that anyone who lives his/her life in this manner will challenge others to think, “How can they live like that?” and “What is the reason for their (seemingly unreasonable) hope?” If you, like me, are hearing this and are feeling challenged to examine your way of living and to make changes, then the Word of God has done its job today! But let’s not lose the fact that we are hearing this in the context of this Easter season, and as we focus our attention more and more on the coming celebration of Pentecost and the renewal of the life in the Spirit within us.
In our Gospel reading, Jesus said to his disciples: “If you love me, you will keep my commandments. And I will ask the Father and he will give you another Advocate to be with you always, the Spirit of truth, whom the world cannot accept, because it neither sees nor knows him. But you know him, because he remains with you and will be in you.” In the context of our reflection today, we can see that the power by which we can live in the world, but not of the world (and, thus, inspire others to inquire about “the reason for our hope”) is the indwelling of the Holy Spirit. Because, as Jesus said, the world cannot accept the Spirit because it neither sees nor knows him, when we live in the Spirit, we live by a power and according to a truth that the world cannot comprehend. Yet, because it seems to set us apart from the world, even though we still live in it (especially when we do so joyfully), it moves people to seek to understand it and so to ask us the question, “What is the reason for your hope?”
Therefore, if we are challenged today by the thought that we may not be living in such a way so as to inspire this curiosity, let us give thanks that we have a remedy ready at hand: the chance for the renewal of the life of the Holy Spirit within us as we celebrate the great feast of Pentecost in a couple of weeks. And let us spend these next weeks intentionally praying for a renewal of the gift of the Holy Spirit with in us (perhaps by praying the Novena to the Holy Spirit, which begins this coming Friday) and so be prepared to move with the Spirit of truth who shows us how we can be more intentional disciples who give witness to the supernatural hope of eternal life that we have in Christ Jesus, even when that witness demands that we suffer for the truth. In doing so, we will be united to Christ himself, who, “put to death in the flesh… was brought to life in the Spirit.”
Inspired by the Blessed Virgin Mary and all the saints throughout the centuries, let us take up the good work. In doing so, we will see the kingdom of God grow among us. But more importantly, we will live more deeply united to the communion that is the Holy Trinity: a communion we encounter every time we share in the sacrifice here at this altar.
Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – May 9th & 10th, 2026
No comments:
Post a Comment