The work that leads to epiphany

Homily: The Epiphany of the Lord – Cycle C

          In its most basic definition, an epiphany is “a moment of sudden realization or insight”.  In other words, it is that moment that makes you stop and say “oh, I get it!”  This usually occurs after you’ve been thinking long and hard about something: a math problem that just doesn’t seem to work out, the missing word in a crossword puzzle, that glitch in your system at work that you can’t quite pinpoint, or how you’re going to get your kids to three different places at the same time with only one car.  Whether it is big or small, an epiphany is a moment when you break through the barrier of unknowing to find the answer that you were looking for.

          As you can see, an epiphany requires some work up front.  It’s not an epiphany to look down on the sidewalk and find a five-dollar bill.  Good fortune, yes, but an epiphany, no.  An epiphany, rather, requires a deep immersion into the subject—a seeking, a longing for an answer—such that the realization of the answer is immediately known.  For example, when Sir Isaac Newton discovered the law of gravity, he had already spent many years as a mathematician and a physicist.  Thus, when he saw the apple fall from the tree (or, as legend has it, when the apple fell on his head while he slept under the tree), he already had a frame of reference to make sense of it.  It was something new, to be sure, but it was born out of many years of intense study.

          These new insights, it seems, always move those who receive them in a new direction.  Sir Isaac Newton could move and expand his study of physics in a new way because of his insight regarding the force of gravity.  An example a little closer to home: the insight that one could find greater freedom, security, and prosperity here in this country has moved millions of people to take a new direction for their lives.  And so we see that an epiphany is not just “a moment of sudden realization or insight”, but also that this insight is one that moves the one who receives it in a new direction. ///

          The word “epiphany”, however, is also used to describe a “manifestation of a divine or supernatural being”.  Combining these two definitions together we could say that an epiphany is a revelation of something (or someone) previously unknown that provides new insight and thus moves its knowers into a new direction.

          The seasons of Advent and Christmas are full of epiphanies that are recorded for us in the Scriptures.  First, in Advent, we remembered the epiphany of the angel Gabriel to Mary that God would be made manifest in her womb.  When Mary received this manifestation of God, her life would definitely move in a new direction.  Joseph, too, when he in a dream received the epiphany from the angel, would have to move in a new direction.  Mary’s cousin, Elizabeth, and her husband Zechariah also faced a new direction for their lives when an angel announced the birth of a son to them: a son who would go before the coming Messiah to prepare his way.

          Now, in Christmas, we have been remembering the epiphany of the angels to the shepherds on the night of Christ’s birth and how it moved them to leave the fields and their flocks to search out the newborn king.  We have been remembering also the epiphany to Simeon and Anna in the temple when Mary and Joseph brought in Jesus to be circumcised on the eighth day after his birth and how it moved them to acknowledge the fulfillment of all of God’s promises.  And, next Sunday, we will recall the epiphany of Jesus as the Son of God at his baptism by John in the Jordan River and how it would begin the new direction of public ministry for him and the new direction of a retreat from public ministry for John.  In each of these moments, we see people who were seeking an insight or a revelation who were then moved into a new direction in their lives once they received it.

          Today, we focus on the epiphany to the Magi—the manifestation of the God of Israel to the “magi from the east”—and we read how it moved them in a “new direction”; and we see a great contrast in this story today between King Herod and the religious elite of the Jews and these magi from the east.

          I find it extremely telling that, in the story that we recounted from Matthew’s Gospel, the “wise men” notice a great star that had appeared in the sky—a star bright enough to be noticed and which remained there long enough for them to travel a long way from the east to Jerusalem to find it—but that King Herod and the chief priests and the scribes of the people didn’t seem to have seen it.  The magi were looking for a sign and thus responded when they “saw his star at its rising”.  King Herod, on the other hand, was more worried about holding onto, and taking advantage of, his power; and so, even though this new light appeared in the sky, the epiphany was not granted to him. /// And so we see once again that an epiphany is received only when we are first looking for something.

          My brothers and sisters, the truth is that God wants each of us to have an epiphany.  Perhaps many of you are not aware of the fact that it is possible to have a personal relationship with Jesus, the Son of God and Son of Mary (recent studies, in fact, confirm that many of you are not aware of this).  Nonetheless, God sent his Son to be born as a human being not only to save us from our sins by dying on the Cross and rising from the dead, but also to manifest himself to his most beloved creatures and thus to make a deep, personal relationship with him possible: a relationship that moves us in a new and positive direction.

          In order to receive this, however, we have to be like Isaac Newton and the magi: we have to be looking for it.  In other words, we have to immerse ourselves in the things that will prepare us for the epiphany that God wants to give us: in prayer, in which we seek to connect with God, and in study of the Scriptures, in which we come to know God and his way of manifesting himself to others.  Then we wait patiently for God’s manifestation.  The magi didn’t fill their lives with other distractions because the stars hadn’t yet revealed anything to them, nor did Isaac Newton give up on studying physics because he hadn’t discovered anything new.  Rather, they waited patiently, looking for the signs that would reveal to them something new.

          And so it is for us.  Regardless of where we find ourselves in our relationship with God, God still wants to reveal himself in new ways to each of us.  And he wants to move us in new directions that draw us closer to him and the happiness of eternal life.  And so why not make a resolution for this new year to seek God’s epiphany in your life—to be ready to be amazed by how God reveals himself to you and then to move in a new and positive direction—to grow in holiness and happiness in 2019?  Make a simple plan to pray and to spend time with the Scriptures each day (and, parents and godparents, to pray with and to share the Scriptures with your children and godchildren); and to seek to understand the Mass more deeply so as to participate in it more fully: for in the Mass we encounter Jesus Christ himself in the gathering of the faithful, in the priest, in the Word proclaimed, and in the sacrifice that we receive from this altar.

          My brothers and sisters, an epiphany is a gift from God to us, but it is a gift that requires some work by us up front.  Let us move, then, like the magi did when they saw his star arise and so seek where he may be found.  And let us allow him to move us in new directions of discipleship (that is, in positive action in the world) and so closer to the eternal happiness he promises us: the happiness to which we draw close every time that we celebrate this Holy Eucharist.

Given at Saint Mary’s Cathedral: Lafayette, IN – January 5^th & 6^th, 2019

A chosen race?

Homily: 20^th Sunday in Ordinary Time – Cycle A

          The ancient Jews thought that they were a “chosen race”; and this, for good reason.  Throughout the Old Testament in the Bible, we read how, time and again, God called this people and set them apart by making a covenant with them: a sacred contract which united this people to God by an irrevocable bond.  Because of this covenant, God demanded that his people would hold to a higher standard of living.  Now, I’m not talking about the house they live in or the clothes that they wear, but rather about their conduct: both with him and with each other.  They were to treat each other justly and to keep themselves from the defilement of sin—most importantly, the defilement of in any way acknowledging or worshiping the false gods of pagan peoples.

          What this led to, as you might imagine, is that the ancient Jews became very strict about how they interacted with non-Jewish people.  They feared that any interaction with any non-Jew would lead to defilement before God and so they severely restricted the ways in which a Jew could interact with a non-Jew.

          Nevertheless, throughout their history, God revealed to his “chosen people” that one day even non-Jews would be acceptable to him.  In other words, that he would extend the benefits of his covenant even to those who were not direct descendants of one of the sons of Israel.  Our reading from the prophet Isaiah is an example of this.  In it, he states that “foreigners who join themselves to the Lord…” following his statutes and commandments, will be acceptable to him and God will lead them to the place of true worship, the temple in Jerusalem on Mount Zion, where they will offer sacrifice and praise and, thus, receive blessings from him.  Isaiah concludes by saying “my house shall be called a house of prayer for all peoples.”

          For an ancient Jew, who perhaps had gotten quite comfortable with the idea that their race was a race “set apart” from all others and, thus, held a distinct privilege above all others, to hear this prophesy that all peoples will one day be united under God might have upset some of them.  Everyone likes to feel like they are special and that they are part of something special and unique.  Grateful as the ancient Jews may have been for God’s favor, they nonetheless were reluctant to accept that God’s favor could be given to anyone.  They feared that, by allowing other races to enter, they’d lose their distinctiveness as a race and, thus, the particular favor that they enjoyed before God.

          At the time that Jesus walked the earth, those fears were at fever pitch because of the Roman occupation of the holy land that God had given to his chosen people.  The Jews, therefore, were greatly anticipating the Messiah, the one who would liberate them from the oppressive Roman regime and usher in the kingdom of heaven: a new springtime in prosperity for the Jewish people.  As we know, Jesus is the Messiah for whom they were waiting, but he didn’t conform to their expectations.  Instead of closely guarding and reinforcing their racial boundaries, re-isolating the Jewish people from the non-Jewish races, Jesus broke through them: opening the door to fulfill what Isaiah had prophesied centuries before.

          Just look at today’s Gospel reading: Jesus “withdrew to the region of Tyre and Sidon…”  This was Gentile territory and we aren’t given much of a reason why he went there.  Then we’re told that a Canaanite woman approaches him.  There are many social taboos that are broken here: 1) that she was an unattended woman approaching a man; 2) she is a non-Jew speaking to a Jew; 3) this is all happening in public.  In spite of all of this, she pleads for Jesus to heal her daughter.  At first, Jesus tows the line: ignoring her, and then brushing her off as a non-Jew.  Finally, he accedes and grants her what she asks because of her faith.  In Isaiah, it says “The foreigners who join themselves to the Lord, ministering to him, loving the name of the Lord, and becoming his servants … will be acceptable…”  Jesus, recognizing that the covenant belongs to the Jews, but also that, through the Jews, God desires all peoples to come to himself, finds this woman “joined to the Lord” in faith and so grants her the benefits which belong properly to the people of the covenant.

          Saint Paul, in another place, wrote “There is no longer Jew, nor Greek, man, nor woman, slave, nor free…” in the eyes of the Lord.  Therefore, we know that, with Jesus, all who profess faith, “joining themselves to the Lord, ministering to him and loving the name of the Lord,” are able to receive the benefits that rightly belong to the Jewish people, the people of the covenant.  And so we are here today.

          My brothers and sisters, our Scriptures today ought to make clear to us that it is unacceptable for any of us to think that we are somehow a “chosen race”, privileged above all others (regardless of which race we belong to).  The events of this past week, particularly the ugly events that took place in Charlottesville, Virginia, ought to reinforce this fact.  Rather, we must be bearers of the Good News that God has made it so that all persons, regardless of race, now have access to his divine life: granted that they meet the strict conditions: that they join themselves to the Lord, minister to him, love the name of the Lord, and become his servants.

          Friends, regardless of whether you were born and raised here or if “you ain’t from around here”, God desires you to be united to him in his Church, here in this place.  If you aren’t on board with this plan then you have chosen not to serve the Lord and you risk separating yourselves from him.  Nobody is saying, of course, that you have to stop being “Berries”, “Kings”, “Panthers”, or “Comets”, or that you have to stop being “Italian”, “German”, “Irish”, “Mexican”, “Guatemalan”, “Salvadorian”, “Honduran”, “Vietnamese”, or “Pilipino”.  It does mean, however, that you have to see in this great diversity your brother, your sister, your co-heir to the kingdom won for us by Jesus; and that you have to accept your mission to go out from your own group to seek out those who still are not joined to us, so that they, too, might share in God’s divine life.

          Brothers and sisters, this Eucharist that we share is not the exclusive reward for one privileged group, but rather God’s divine life, given for all.  As we receive it today, let us be ready to bring our brothers and sisters to this table and thus bring God’s kingdom to fulfillment.

Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – August 19^th & 20^th, 2017

Dressing up for Mass

             As a sacramental people, we believe that what we do outwardly is an indication of what is happening inwardly (sacraments are "visible signs of invisible realities").  Therefore, Jesus' admonition to the man who comes to the wedding feast not dressed in a wedding garment should be a reminder to us that the Eucharist, which is the wedding feast of the Lamb, Jesus Christ, demands the same attention from us.  Remember: God became man so that man could become God (St. Athanasius).  Our dress when we approach the wedding feast of the Lamb ought to be a sacramental sign that we are anticipating entering into the glory of our Lord.

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Homily: 28^th Sunday of Ordinary Time – Cycle A

          This summer I had the blessing to witness seven marriages here in our parish.  These couples were each unique in their mix of age, background, education, and life experience and so each of their weddings was special for me.  The uniqueness of each of these couples was also displayed in those who attended their weddings.  One thing that was common among these diverse groupings of people, however, was how they dressed.

          Of course, they didn’t all dress exactly the same, but they did all concern themselves enough to “dress up” for the occasion.  Now you and I could disagree about what qualifies as “dressing up”—and surely there are some objective standards—but given the fact that I had been around most of these people in ordinary circumstances I could tell that they had, in fact, “dressed up” for the occasion.  These people all recognized that a wedding is a special occasion and that for special occasions, special dress is expected.

          Our Lord Jesus seems to be speaking about this in our Gospel reading today.  But if we only read it as that—that is, as an instruction about proper etiquette for clothing for weddings—then we will have missed a lot of what the Word is trying to teach us.

          First, we have to recognize that Jesus is speaking allegorically.  He starts by saying “The kingdom of heaven may be likened to a king who gave a wedding feast for his son.”  Right there we are to recognize that he is using this example of a wedding feast as a tool to help his hearers understand something about the supernatural kingdom of heaven that was already “near at hand”.  Given all of that, it’s not too hard to start to put “names and faces” with all of the characters in the parable.  The king is God the Father, his son is Jesus, the wedding feast is the wedding feast of the Lamb—that is, the eternal banquet in heaven that Isaiah prophesies about in our first reading—the servants of the king who go out to summon the invited guests are the Prophets, the invited guests are God’s chosen people Israel, and those pulled off of the streets to fill the banquet hall in place of the invited guests are the Gentiles—that is, all those who weren’t Jewish.  Jesus meant this allegorical parable to shame his own people into seeing that they had been ignoring God’s invitation to the eternal wedding feast—brought to them initially through the prophets and now standing before them in God’s own Son—so that they might turn from their ignorance and enter into the joy of the kingdom of heaven.

          In many ways, though, this parable is also a word of hope and promise to the Gentiles.  As Jesus made clear in other situations, He came to preach the Good News of salvation to God’s chosen people, Israel.  Nonetheless, once it became clear that He was being rejected by His people, Jesus began to proclaim—through parables like this one and the others that we’ve been hearing in these past weeks—that the kingdom would be taken from them and given to the Gentiles.  Thus, for God-fearing Gentiles this truly was good news.  The kingdom of the Most High God, whose access had initially been restricted to one race of people, would soon be open to all people; and thus their hopes for eternal salvation would be realized.

          Now, imagine if initially you hadn’t been invited to a very prominent banquet—let’s say, with the President of the United States (and imagine any president you’d like, current or past)—but that, because some of the invited guests had declined to attend, you were now invited; would you just walk right in, wearing whatever it was you had on at the time?  No, assuming that you felt honored to be invited, you wouldn’t.  Rather, you would go home and quickly put on the nicest suit or dress that you had before presenting yourself at the banquet.  In other words, you wouldn’t think even for a moment that the last-minute invitation gave you any excuse not to dress up for the occasion.  This, in a sense, is the meaning of the man, not dressed in a wedding garment, who is thrown out of the wedding banquet in Jesus’ parable: Jesus is warning the Gentiles that, even though you are now invited, it doesn’t mean “come as you are”; rather you must still leave off your “worldly attire” and put on the special dress appropriate for this special occasion.

          My brothers and sisters, the good news for us today is that we are the Gentiles who have benefited from the rejection of the invitation extended to the ancient Israelites.  Even though God still calls his chosen people and invites them to the banquet, once he opened the doors to the Gentiles—that is, to all peoples—he will not close them again, thus making it possible for us to receive and respond to God’s invitation to join in the wedding feast.  Perhaps this “Gentile Church” has been around so long that we no longer see ourselves as those who were “invited second”.  And indeed, we see in this day many who have received the invitation to the wedding feast of the Lamb (otherwise known as the Eucharist)—baptized Christians—who take their invitation for granted and thus reject it; choosing rather to be busy about their own affairs.

          But what about us who respond to the invitation and who are here?  Do we still see the weekly celebration of the Eucharist for what it is?—a participation in eternal wedding banquet, prepared for us by God our Father in heaven?  If so, do we “dress up”—both physically and spiritually—for the occasion?  “Oh Father, God doesn’t care about what we wear to church.  He just cares that we’re here.”  OK, well what would a bride and groom think if you showed up to their wedding in a pair of khaki shorts and a hoodie?  They might be kind of offended, right?  It might not be the clothes themselves that offend them, but rather it would be the fact that you didn’t seem to care enough about their special day to put on any special dress.  The same applies here.  I think that God does care about what clothes you wear to Mass; not because he needs to be impressed by how well you dress, but rather because he wants to see evidence that you acknowledge that this event is different than a casual dinner at Applebee’s: that it is, indeed, special and so deserves special dress.

          Still unconvinced?  Well, consider then what it means to be a sacramental people.  The core belief that we hold about sacraments is that what we do outwardly (or physically), effects something inwardly (or spiritually).  And so how can we show up here, claiming to believe that this is the closest thing that we’ll get to touching heaven on this side of eternity, wearing the same clothes that we wore to the football game on Friday night?  The outward sign just does not match the claimed inward reality.  Thus, the guest in Jesus’ parable who showed up in his “street clothes” ended up in the same place as those who rejected the invitation: he was cast into the darkness outside of the banquet—that is, outside of the kingdom of heaven.

          OK, what about the many of you whom I see here who do acknowledge that Mass is something special and so do dress so as to give evidence to it?  Well, you’re not off the hook either.  While preparing physically to come to this banquet week after week is the first step, we must also prepare spiritually as well.  Jesus’ primary complaint against the religious elite of his day was that they were more concerned about their outward appearances than they were about their inward disposition.  And so we must remember that it is not enough that we simply “dress up” for Mass.  Rather, we must also “dress up” our souls by examining our consciences and ensuring that any unconfessed mortal sin is absolved sacramentally before we enter the wedding feast.  In this way our souls, too, will be adorned in their “wedding garments” and thus will be fit to participate in this great banquet.

          My brothers and sisters, again, it is an incomprehensible honor that God would invite us, his creatures, into the eternal banquet of “rich, juicy food and pure, choice wines” that is the kingdom of heaven: the banquet that we glimpse only dimly here in this Eucharist.  As we approach this table of plenty today, let us recommit ourselves (or, perhaps, commit ourselves for the first time) to always demonstrate how thankful we are for having been invited by “dressing up”—both physically and spiritually: adorning our bodies in a way that shows how special we believe this banquet to be and our souls with the beautiful flowers of a clean conscience and the fruits of our good works.  For when we do, we not only honor God but we also prepare ourselves to be received one day into that banquet prepared for us in heaven.

Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – October 12^th, 2014