The Blood that makes us Family

Homily: The Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ – Cycle B

          It used to be, it seems (at least, that is, if movies and TV shows depicted the stereotypes correctly), that fathers of newly engaged daughters would make brash declarations to their soon-to-be son-in-laws about the “rules” of being part of their family.  These usually centered on the idea that the son-in-law to be must respect the father’s daughter and treat her like a lady, as well as some of the ways that he would be expected to integrate into the family culture.  And, if it is a particularly “over-protective” father, these rules usually come with some sort of threat of punishment if any of these rules are ever broken.  Has anyone ever seen this scene before?  Has anyone ever lived this scene before?

          What strikes me about these scenes, however, is the rudimentary parallels between them and the covenants formed in the Ancient Near East (that is, ancient Palestine: where Jesus walked the earth).  You see, a covenant, in ancient times, was basically a pact between two peoples who weren’t otherwise bound to each other by blood or by marriage.  A covenant is like a contract in which terms are spelled out between the two groups entering into it: there are certain rules that each group must abide by and punishments for those who break those rules.  Different, however, is that the bond that the covenant forms is a familial bond.  In other words, after entering the covenant, the groups that enter into it treat each other as if they were family.  Thus, the correlation between the father and his future son-in-law: “If you’re going to be a part of this family, there are certain rules you have to follow.”  The father, perhaps unknowingly, is laying down the terms of a covenant.

          In the first reading of today’s Mass, we heard described how the ancient Israelites entered into a covenant with God.  Moses, speaking on behalf of God, reads the “terms” of God’s proposed covenant with the people; and the people respond that they will indeed fulfill these terms.  The covenant is then sealed by a sacrifice: the blood of which is splashed on the altar (representing God) and then sprinkled on the people.  In doing this, God and the people became “family” (as evidenced by the oft-repeated phrase in the scriptures: “You will be my people, and I will be your God.”)

          Now, if you heard my homily last week for Trinity Sunday (or, perhaps, if you read it online), you’ll know that what we celebrate on Trinity Sunday is that God has made himself known to us so that we can enter into relationship with him and, thus, fulfill our purpose for being made: which is to know, love, and serve him in this world, and to be happy with him forever in the next.  You’ll also remember that I said that we know him by remembering the gracious ways that he has worked in our lives and in the lives of others throughout history, as recorded for us in the Bible, in Church History, and in the Lives of the Saints.  I said that, as adopted sons and daughters of God (and, therefore, brothers and sisters of Christ), we are endowed with the grace of being loved by God as his beloved children and that, as brothers and sisters of Christ himself, we are caught up into the eternal outpouring of love that the Father makes to the Son and the Son returns to the Father, and which explodes forth and pours out into creation as the Holy Spirit.  Thus, we love God by loving him as Christ loves him: by receiving the love that is poured out to us and by returning that love with an outpouring of our lives.  Finally, I said that we serve God by fulfilling the “Great Commission” that Jesus gave to his disciples: to “go and make disciples of all nations” in the particular manner to which God has called each of us.

          It is to the second point of these that I want to draw our attention today: that is, that we love God like sons and daughters because we have been adopted by him.  Friends, if we are adopted sons and daughters of God, then we, like the ancient Israelites, have entered into a covenant with him.  This is not the covenant that Moses mediated between God and the people and sealed by the blood of bulls and goats, however.  It is a new covenant, mediated by Christ and sealed by the sacrifice of his own Body and Blood, as the author of the Letter to the Hebrews relates: “[Christ] entered once for all into the sanctuary, not with the blood of goats and calves but with his own blood, thus obtaining eternal redemption.”  This is why we celebrate this great feast of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ—and why we celebrate it immediately following the feast of the Most Holy Trinity—because without it we were estranged from God, but with it we are now sons and daughters of God—brothers and sisters of Christ—and, thus, can receive the fullness of the benefits that come from being in this covenant with him: that is, to know him, to love him, and to serve him in this world, and to be happy with him forever in the next.

          Friends, it is a great grace to be in covenant with God.  And if we understand this, then our response must always be thanksgiving.  This is why our primary form of worship is the Eucharist: a sacrifice of thanksgiving in which we offer back to God the very thing that unites us to him, the Body and Blood of his Son Jesus.  Our thanksgiving doesn’t end here, however.  Rather, our lives must be a continuous act of thanksgiving; which they are when we live according to the way of life God has commanded us to live as safeguarded by the moral teachings of the Church.  Therefore, as we give God thanks today for this covenant into which he has invited us—sealed as it is by the Blood of Christ—let us recommit ourselves to living as he commanded us.  In doing so, we will give him glory and prepare ourselves to be happy with him forever in heaven.

Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – June 3^rd, 2018

Obedience and Peace

Homily: The Holy Family of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph – Cycle C

          Early this past November, not long after we had made the changes to the Communion Procession, one of our parishioners approached me after Mass to say that she was very confused about how to follow in the procession.  She sat in one of the side sections and thought that she was supposed to pass through the center pews and into the procession, but was told by the usher to proceed to the back of the church to join the procession once the center pews had emptied.  She thought that she was right and so was bothered when the usher told her to do something different.

          At first, I tried to explain that the usher was right, which she countered with evidence that it had happened her way a week or so previous.  To this I simply responded, “Okay, yes, but my instructions also said to let the usher direct you; so next time be obedient to the usher.  You can never be wrong if you’re obedient.”  That might have been a little bit of frustration coming out on my part (as evidenced by the fact that Fr. Clayton happily corrected me about the “never be wrong” part later), but I think that I touched on something important.

          Obedience can be something very challenging for us, right?  Our culture seems to idolize the individual, and even more so the freedom of the individual to follow his or her will (which typically means, “to do whatever he or she wants”).  The culture says that this is freedom.  Yet, it seems like God has set up our human nature to be dependent on a hierarchy of will.  Just look at the family: the father and mother at the head, with the children subordinate to them.  Families seem to function best when this order is maintained and there is proper obedience among its members.  Children must be obedient to their parents; spouses need to be obedient to one another, and there is even a proper obedience of parents to their children (though this seems to be grossly distorted these days).  This is how God designed it.

          In religious monasteries and convents, where the persons who live there are seeking to know and follow God’s will in a unique way, obedience is a key to harmony (and, thus, peace).  For the religious brother or sister, the will of his or her religious superior is God’s will, since God deigned that this particular man or woman would supervise that house of religious.  For diocesan clergy, like Fr. Clayton and myself, we accept the will of our bishop, Bishop Doherty, when expressed in matters regarding our priesthood and priestly life, as if it is the will of God for each us.  For example, when Bishop Doherty assigned me as Administrator of this parish, I felt anxiety at first; but through prayer I was able to conclude that, since this was coming from my bishop, this was God’s will for me at this point in my life and I tried to accept it in peace.

          So the same is true in families:  Children, the loving will of your parents is God’s will for you, because they seek what is good for you, even when you don’t like it.  Parents, the genuine needs of your children and your spouse, both material and spiritual, when they are made known to you, are God’s will for your life.  This goes both for the big things, like having your children baptized and praying for your spouse daily, and for the little things, like taking out the trash when your spouse asks you and washing your children’s laundry (perhaps for the third time this week).  Obedience to one another is God’s will for your lives.

          This brings us to the family that we celebrate today: the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.  We see that, in big things and small, they were obedient to one another and so fulfilled God’s will for their lives.  In the Gospel today, we heard how Jesus stayed behind in the Temple after the Passover celebration to listen to the teachers and to ask them questions.  Was this disobedience on his part?  Perhaps.  However, given the fact that he was 12 years old and, thus, culturally permitted to be in groups of other adult men, it may have been an innocent desire to learn all he could from the wise men who taught God’s Law in the Temple.  Nevertheless, when Mary and Joseph find him, Jesus returns to Nazareth with them and, the Gospel tells us, he “was obedient to them.” 

          Still, this incident demonstrates for us another important point:  Yes, by faithfully fulfilling the duties of our vocation—that is, by being obedient to them—we fulfill God’s will for our lives.  Nevertheless, God still wishes to speak to us directly, and we still have a duty to listen for his voice speaking to us and, thus, to be obedient to it.  Could Jesus have fulfilled the will of God by simply being obedient to his parents?  Arguably, yes.  Yet, he stayed back in Jerusalem to listen to the teachers explain God’s commandments (which were God’s holy will for his people) so that he could be directly obedient to his Father in heaven, too.  Thus, the same applies to us: it is not enough just to be obedient to our vocations (though that is a fundamental starting point); rather, it is necessary for us to listen for God to speak to us directly, which he does in our personal prayer and in each and every Mass.

          Catholic speaker and evangelist, Matthew Kelly, often asks his audiences this question: “If you knew that God himself would appear at Mass in order to give you a message, wouldn’t you bring something with you to write it down?”  He then goes on to challenge them, saying that, each and every time they come to Mass, God has a message for each of them—perhaps in the Scriptures, in the words of the hymns, or in the prayers of the Mass—and that most of us miss it because we’re too worried about whether or not we like the music or the preaching, or we’re thinking about where we were going to go out to eat after the Mass.  Yet God doesn’t fail to send us his message.  We simply fail to obey.

          As Pope, John XXIII would end his day before the Blessed Sacrament. He said that he would end his prayer for the world by saying: “Lord, I’ve done all I can. It’s your Church. I’m going to bed!”  And so, what was the secret to his peace?  His papal motto, Obedientia et Pax, perhaps gives us a clue.  “Obedience and Peace”, is how his motto reads in English.  What I think he was trying to say to us—and was probably trying to remind himself—is that when we sincerely seek to listen to God—that is, to be obedient to him—we experience a lasting peace. In other words, when we sincerely seek to follow His voice, we experience the peace that the world cannot give.  Now known as Saint Pope John XXIII, John showed us that true peace comes from obedience to God.

          And so, my brothers and sisters, perhaps today we could each ask God for a heart more open to his will for us—which, by the way, is nothing less than that we would be happy, free, and fully alive—and for the courage to be obedient to it; so that we might know the peace that the Holy Family knew; the peace that the angels promised would come upon those on whom God’s favor rests; the peace that the Christ Child brings with his appearance on Christmas night; the peace that one day we hope to experience eternally in heaven; the peace that is available to us even now, here in this Eucharist.

Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – December 26^th & 27^th, 2015

Your family will make you a saint

          I have no doubts... if you can learn to live like a saint in your own family, then you will be a saint!  Let's strive to make 2014 the year in which we learn to love each other; starting at home with our families!

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Homily: Holy Family – Cycle A

          A crucible is a device developed in ancient times that is used to heat metals to a very high temperature.  Usually made of ceramic or porcelain (or another material similarly resistant to extremely high temperatures), a crucible is used either to purify metals (by burning off any impurities from them) or to create alloys (which are mixtures of metals created by heating them together and, thus, allowing them to mix).  In the crucible, metals are both tested for purity (when heated to its extreme limit) and forced to change (when mixed in with other materials).  Because of these characteristics of the uses of a crucible, the term “crucible” has come also to be applied to any situation in which one is tested severely or is forced either to change or to make a difficult decision.  For example, we might say of many of our war veterans that “his or her character was formed in the crucible of war.”

          Perhaps we might not immediately think of it this way, but the family is a type of crucible.  This has become increasingly apparent to me after the last year and a half that I have spent listening to confessions here at this parish.  Week after week I hear the same or similar things from people: “I’ve been impatient with my children”, or “I was angry with my spouse and yelled at him or her”, or “I’ve been mean to my brothers and sisters”, or “I’ve not respected my mother and father.”  What you all are confessing and asking forgiveness for are the limitations to love and charity that you are finding within yourselves and which are brought forth to the surface within the crucible that is your family.  In other words, we all have an ideal of how we should live and interact with each other as a family, but when the heat and pressure begin to build through our daily interactions with each other, our character is tested and impurities begin to show.  We are challenged to change and many of you come to the confessional looking for forgiveness for your failures and for the grace to make the necessary changes.

          The Holy Family, whom we celebrate today, is an example for us of how to survive and to thrive in the crucible of the family.  For Joseph and Mary, there was testing from the very beginning of their relationship.  Not sooner than Joseph was betrothed to Mary did he find out that his new wife—whom he had yet to receive into his house—was already with child.  If it wasn’t for the angel’s intervention in a dream, Joseph may have divorced her straight away and the Holy Family would have been a broken one from the start.

          Then, as the day for Mary to give birth came near, the command came from Caesar that all must be enrolled in their ancestral hometown.  Thus, Joseph and Mary (with Jesus still in the womb) had to travel to Bethlehem—the little town that, obviously, became overcrowded with visitors—in which Mary was left to give birth to their son in a rudimentary barn carved into the side of a rock.  If that wasn’t enough, a week or so later word came to Joseph and Mary that the child was in danger of being murdered by the king and that they needed to flee from there without delay.  And so the family picked up the very little that they had and went off to Egypt, where they lived as foreigners, outcast and despised, for the next seven years.

          Remember that Joseph was probably twice as old as Mary when they were married and that Mary was barely 15 years-old.  These were challenges that even the most veteran families would have difficulty dealing with, but they had to deal with them in the first year of their relationship.  We honor them today as holy, not because they lived lives of perfect peace and harmony, but because within the crucible that is the family, they persevered in charity and in following the way of the Lord: the way of righteousness.

          Saint Paul seems to understand this.  In his letter to the Colossians he offers us a list of virtues for how to live as “God’s chosen ones”, that is, as God’s family.  He describes the virtues like they are a set of clothing that you wear.  “Put on … heartfelt compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience, bearing with one another and forgiving one another … and over all these,” he says, as if it was some sort of ‘spiritual overcoat’, “put on love, that is, the bond of perfection.”  While most of us could look at this list and say, “yes, that’s how it should be,” I would guess that many of us (myself included) have a very difficult time putting this into practice.  Well, Paul understands that, too.  And so he continues in his letter: “let the peace of Christ control your hearts … and be thankful.”  How can we achieve this lofty level of virtue?  By letting the peace of Christ control our hearts and by being thankful.  In other words, there’s no magic here, just hard work of grace within us.

          Paul, then, describes a way that we might begin.  “Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, as in all wisdom you teach and admonish one another, singing psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs with gratitude in your hearts to God.”  With the word of Christ with you in the crucible, Paul seems to say, the hard work of putting on the virtues will lightened; and when you give yourself over to praising God in “psalms, hymns and spiritual songs”, you focus less on whatever difficulty or conflict you are having and instead remember that Christ has saved us from our limitations so that we can “bear with one another” in peace.

          We are rapidly approaching the New Year.  Perhaps some of you have been thinking about resolutions that you’d like to make for yourselves to make 2014 a happier and more fulfilling year for you.  Perhaps some of you have given up on that idea many years ago.  To all of you I am suggesting that you take this passage from Saint Paul’s letter to the Colossians and meditate on it: asking God to show you how you can incorporate its teachings in 2014.  Begin by asking God which of these virtues you are lacking and then for the grace to begin to practice them.  Then, look for ways that, as a family, you can make 2014 a year in which you will “let the word of Christ dwell in you richly” by reading the Bible together as a family and then using that time to acknowledge and give thanks for the blessings that you’ve received.  (Grandparents, this is a great way to bond with your grandchildren as well!)

          If you and your family can begin to do these things, I guarantee you that you will be happier in 2014, in spite of whatever trials may come.  With the Holy Family as our guide, and with the strength of the grace that we receive in this Holy Eucharist, we can emerge in 2014 from the crucibles of our families happier and holier; if only we would entrust ourselves to God to do it.  Joseph and Mary did and their family is now called holy.  May 2014 be the year in which your family earns the same name.

Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – December 28^th & 29^th, 2013

The Feast of the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph