Homily: 3rd Sunday
of Advent – Cycle C
St Peter’s Basilica in Rome is
arguably the most famous church in the world.
And it’s enormous. Inside it’s
614 feet long. In fact, when you enter
the doors and stand at the end of its full length and look at the floor, you’ll
see that there are markings there indicating its size in comparison to other
major churches throughout the world, verifying that quite possibly it is the
largest church in the world. The ceiling
of the main nave is 145 feet high, and the inside of the dome itself soars to
385 feet. It’s built in a the form of a
cross and, just to give you a better idea of its size, I would bet that our
church—which is not small, by any means—would fit multiple times in one of the
side naves of St. Peter’s. Like I said,
it’s enormous.
Of course, it is adorned with
everything that high Renaissance art could throw at it, which you might think
would be overwhelming when you first walk in there. On the contrary, though, there is an incredible
sense of balance and proportionality to it all.
As I walked through there for the first time I just tried to take it all
in. After spending some time in there,
however, I started to approach different objects—certain statues, altars, side
chapels, etc.—to take a closer look; and when I did I was amazed at the size of
each thing. Not only is the Basilica
itself huge, everything in it is huge, too!
Standing in the midst of this extraordinariness,
it’s easy to forget why it’s even there at all. St. Peter’s Basilica was built over an ancient
necropolis (a “city cemetery”) on Rome’s Vatican Hill. This ancient burial ground was very close to
one of the places where Romans held sporting events, gladiator fights, and
where they sometimes executed criminals.
That Roman entertainment complex (which they called “circuses”) was
where Saint Peter was crucified and that nearby necropolis was where Saint
Peter was buried. It’s amazing to think
that such an extraordinary basilica was constructed because of someone so
ordinary: a fisherman from Galilee, a remote outpost of the Roman Empire. That’s like saying we were going to build a
basilica to honor a factory worker from Logansport Stamping.
The basilica wasn’t built because of
Peter’s merit alone, however. That would
be a hard case to sell. He often said
the wrong thing, at the wrong time, and Jesus had to correct him. He confessed that he would die with Jesus,
but then fled when Jesus was arrested.
Worse yet, he denied knowing Jesus three times when he was threatened
with arrest for knowing him. No the
basilica wasn’t built over his grave because of his own merits. He was an ordinary fisherman from Galilee
through and through. The basilica was
built over his grave, rather, because of the extraordinary things that God
accomplished through his ordinariness.
In other words, it was built to honor the ordinary that God had made
extraordinary. And so we see that, with
God, it all starts with the ordinary.
In the Gospel reading last week we
heard how people were coming to John the Baptist, responding to his call for a
“baptism of repentance” in which they would renounce their sins and then be
ritually washed so as to be cleansed from the ritual impurity that their sins
caused. Today, we heard how many of
these people, having turned away from their sins, sought advice from John about
what they should do now that they had been cleansed. Perhaps they thought that he would invite
them to join him in his ascetic way of life, abandoning their work and wealth
to live in extreme conditions. Perhaps
they thought that this kind of extraordinary act would be necessary to complete
their cleansing. What they heard,
however, wasn’t very extraordinary at all.
John said to them: “Whatever you’re doing, do it right. And if you have
the chance to help somebody in need, do it.”
These were very ordinary things.
Nevertheless, John knew that these things would prepare them for the
extraordinary transformation that Christ would soon bring.
This transformation is much more
dramatic than the words of the Gospel convey on the surface. What John described was fantastical. His baptism was an ordinary baptism: a
cleansing with water. Imagine having
just experienced that kind of baptism and then to hear him say that the one who
will come after him—the one who would be mightier than him—will baptize with
the Holy Spirit and fire! It would have
been shocking and incomprehensible to his hearers. Yet what he was saying to them was, "Do
these ordinary things and you'll be ready for this extraordinary experience.”
It’s not hard, sometimes, however,
when we’re not sure what the next steps are, to think that we have to do
extraordinary things. For example: last
year my family decided to come here for Christmas. I had never hosted my whole family before so
I wasn’t sure how to prepare. I stated
worrying that I would have to do all of these extraordinary things to prepare
for their arrival. I soon realized,
however, that I had to start with ordinary things: I had to make sure that the
house was clean and that it was neatly appointed with festive things. After that, I just had to keep doing what I
had been doing and wait for them to come.
In the end having them here was a great experience! Extraordinary in
every way.
I worry that we sometimes act this way
with God. We think that we have to do
extraordinary things to get his attention.
And that, if we don’t feel like we can do those things (or, perhaps,
we’re just not motivated to do those things), we decide not to do anything at
all. Yet, as we see throughout the
Scriptures and in the lives of the Saints, God wants to meet us in the ordinary:
and then to make our ordinary extraordinary.
My brothers and sisters, the most
extraordinary event in the history of the world was the birth of Jesus, the
divine person who took on our ordinary human flesh in order to save us from sin
and death forever. He has already worked
an extraordinary transformation in each of us through baptism; and he is coming
again to complete our transformation to be like him in glory. Thus, we don't need to be extraordinary
ourselves. Rather, we can find joy in the ordinary—the work-a-day here and
now—because of the extraordinary that God has promised to make with it.
So
what should we do? Focus on the basics: Repent. Seek the baptism of repentance by turning
away from whatever sin in which you may be caught and be cleansed by making a
good confession before Christmas. Then,
do the work you were given to do in justice and truth. In other words, pray, share your blessings
with the poor, and do your daily work with integrity. Finally, wait in joyful expectation of the
one who has already come, is still with us, and will come to us again. In these ways, my brothers and sisters—that
is, in our faithful obedience to the ordinary—we will be prepared for that day
when God will transform our ordinary to be unbelievably extraordinary. Therefore, as Saint Paul exhorts us, let us “rejoice
in the Lord always. I say it again:
rejoice!” For the Lord is truly near.
Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN
– December 12th & 13th, 2015
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