The least are all the more necessary

Homily: 3^rd Sunday in Ordinary Time – Cycle C

These past two weeks, I was in Central America—El Salvador and Guatemala, to be precise—for a pilgrimage with other priests, deacons, and religious from around the country visiting the sites of the Central American martyrs.  These are persons like Saint Oscar Romero, a bishop in El Salvador, and the newly beatified Blessed Stanley Rother, who was a priest from Oklahoma who went to serve in Guatemala. My anticipation when making this trip was that I’d be inspired be these holy priests and others who gave their lives for their people.  From that standpoint (in case you wanted to ask), the trip was great.

In between those visits, our group was inundated (literally, flooded!) with information about the civil violence in El Salvador and Guatemala in the 70’s and 80’s, in which individual witnesses to the violence perpetrated against innocent persons (in some cases, whole villages!) was recounted.  From this standpoint, the trip was horrible (and I mean by that, horrifying). I hope to be able to recount something of what I heard to you all in the next weeks, but now I’ll just say that that the stories of government sponsored atrocities against innocent people were sickening, saddening, and depressing.

Consoling through all of these stories was meeting some of the men and women who lived through these terrible times (which, by the way, haven’t completely ended) and who nonetheless have found a reason for hope in their Catholic faith.  I encountered in the Maryknoll missionaries who worked with these people during these terrible times what it really means when the Church says that she has a “preferential option for the poor”, as they risked their lives to serve the needs and defend the rights of people who had very little resources to defend themselves.  Finally, I discovered in myself an experience not unlike that which the people experienced in our first reading in today’s Mass.

There, the priest Ezra presents the newly recovered scroll of the Law of Moses, which had been lost to whole generations of Israelites as they were in exile in Babylon.  Now, back in Jerusalem and tasked with rebuilding the city and, specifically, the Temple, the Israelites need some inspiration. Thus, Ezra calls the people together to read to them from the Torah (probably the book of Deuteronomy).  As he does, the people weep.  Scholars say that they wept both for joy and sorrow. Joy, because this word of God is filled with wisdom: wisdom that they had never heard in their lives and which they are now happy to receive (wisdom being such an sought after gift to the peoples of those times).  Sorrow, because they remembered the sins of their ancestors that caused them to be taken into exile and because they recognized the sins under which they, themselves, had been living.

As I went through this pilgrimage, I, too, experienced joy and sorrow.  Joy, as the truth of the Gospel that “brings glad tidings to the poor” pierced my heart: wounding me with its beauty.  Sorrow, as I recognized the sins of generations past that have assaulted that beauty (and continue to do so today) as well as my own sins of ignorance, indifference, and inaction.  As we heard story after story of injustices perpetrated against the poor my sadness grew.  Then, I had a realization: I realized that there would be no happy ending to this pilgrimage.  In other words, there would be no end to this story in which all of these negative scenes would be wrapped up into some positive conclusion, and this increased my sorrow.

Early this past week, however, I found words of consolation: words that helped me to see that there can be a “happy ending”.  In the Office of Readings for the feast of Saint Vincent, Deacon and Martyr, these words of Saint Augustine were provided for reflection: “Against Christ’s army the world arrays a twofold battleline.  It offers temptation to lead us astray; it strikes terror into us to break our spirit.  Hence if our personal pleasures do not hold us captive, and if we are not frightened by brutality, then the world is overcome.”  I think that Saint Augustine nailed it right on the head: What holds me back from acting on behalf of the poor except my fear of becoming poor myself or of what others might do to me if I do?  Thus, if I can overcome my captivity to personal pleasures (and, thus, risk becoming poor) and if I can overcome my fear of reprisals (verbal and/or physical), then I can act with full freedom and release the full power of the Gospel and, thus, do something to bring about the “happy ending” for which I am looking.

Looking at today’s Gospel reading, we see that this is precisely the example that our Lord Jesus has given to us.  There, he comes into the synagogue at Nazareth and solemnly declares that he is the one to fulfill the prophesies of Isaiah of the one who would come to liberate God’s people and inaugurate the kingdom of God.  In doing so, he turned his back on personal pleasures and turned his life towards that of being a poor, itinerant preacher; and he overcame every fear of reprisal: reprisals that, ultimately, would lead to his death.

His death (an unjust death, by the way, driven by the fear of the religious elite) led to his resurrection and the chance for every person to find reconciliation with God and eternal life with him.  Our work, as Christians—that is, followers of Christ—is to continue Christ’s work of proclaiming this Good News by helping people break free from their captivity to their personal pleasures and to overcome their fear of the brutality that the world can inflict upon them; and, thus, work to bring forth God’s kingdom: a kingdom in which the poor hear glad tidings, liberty is proclaimed to captives, sight is restored to the blind, and the oppressed are set free.  Friends, if this is not our aim in life, then we are shirking the responsibilities given to us.

Saint Paul, in our second reading, makes this point even more clear.  There he says that, as members of Christ’s Body, we are all one; and that no member of the body, regardless of how important it may seem, is any more important than any other.  In fact, he says, those members of the body that seem to be least important are “all the more necessary” and are “surrounded with greater honor”.  Thus, the question comes to us: Do the poor have an honored place among us?  Or do we keep them at “arm’s length" so as not to make us too uncomfortable?  Do we allow them to show us what a just kingdom might look like?  Or do we condescend and try to instruct them, instead?

Friends, there are members of Christ’s Body, the Church, all over the world, right here in Lafayette, and, probably, right here in our church, who are suffering right now.  Are we suffering with them?  Some of us, yes.  Many of us, however, no.  Probably most of us, not enough.  And so, if these words cut to your heart, good.  Be sober about this reality and examine your conscience.  Ask God to show you the ways that you might better work to bring forth God’s kingdom of justice and to grow in solidarity with the poor and marginalized in our society.  Then risk becoming poor yourself and the reprisals of those who benefit from keeping the poor in their poverty by working to realize the ideals of justice and solidarity with which God has inspired you.  In this way you will truly suffer with the members who are suffering and be honored with those members who are honored.

Yes, friends, be sober about this reality, but try not to be sad: because the victory over sin and injustice has already been won in Jesus.  Rejoice, therefore, for in Christ we have overcome the world; and justice for every person—from conception to natural death, each created in the supreme dignity of the image of God—can be realized when we allow God’s Spirit to work in and through us.  Yes, rejoice and give thanks today for Christ’s victory; and then choose to make the fruits of Christ’s victory—that is, the fullness of God’s kingdom—present among us.

Given at Saint Mary’s Cathedral: Lafayette, IN – January 26^th & 27^th, 2019

To everyone... (yes, that means you!)

          What an awesome 50 days of Easter!!!  Today, when we celebrate the inauguration of the Church by the descent of the Holy Spirit upon the Apostles, let us remember that we have each been given a manifestation of the Spirit for the good of the Church.  We must let the Spirit work in and through us!

          Congratulations also to Fr. Peter Logsdon, Fr. Stephen Duquaine, and Dcn. Daniel Shine, who were all ordained for the Diocese of Lafayette-in-Indiana yesterday!  GOD IS SO GOOD!!!

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Homily: Pentecost – Cycle A

          I, for one, have often been amazed to think about the complexity of the human body and about just how many things have to go right at every moment for it to function properly.  I mean, just think for a moment about how many different functions are necessary—and, thus,  how many different organs or bodily components are necessary—for our bodies to do something as essential as converting our food into nutrition.  There’s the chewing and the swallowing, the breaking down of the food in our stomachs, there’s the absorbing of the nutrition that we need and the separating out of the stuff that we don’t need and then the expelling of that waste after it’s been separated…  That’s a lot of stuff that constantly has to go right just so that we can keep living!  If any one organ or component malfunctions, the whole system could fail.

          And this includes even the seemingly most insignificant, non-functional parts of the system.  Take the Appendix, for example.  Although current research has begun to show otherwise, the Appendix is an appendage of the large intestine that for years doctors have considered to be “expendable” because it serves no apparent function in an otherwise healthy person.  I mean, just look at its name… “appendix” means “something extra” and thus “non-essential”.  Regardless of whatever the Appendix does or does not do, however, if it begins to malfunction or becomes infected it can disrupt and threaten to shut down the entire body.

          I myself had appendicitis when I was 17 years old.  It took a day or two to really develop and, before I could get to the doctor to have it treated, it ruptured.  Although I did get treatment soon after that, I realized that, had I not made haste in getting treatment, it would not have been long before my life would have been in real danger.  That’s a serious effect for an appendage that seemingly has no function.  I guess it just goes to show you that every part of the body—no matter how insignificant it seems—is important.

          Today on this Pentecost Sunday we are reminded by Saint Paul that we, the Church, are a body.  More specifically, he states that we are Christ’s body and that, because of that, we have been given the Spirit—Christ’s Spirit—who inspires us to call Jesus “Lord”.  We, of course, have heard this before: that “though many, we are one and, though one, we are many.”  If we aren’t careful, however, we’ll kind of gloss over this fact and miss what Paul is really trying to say.

          Without all of the detailed scientific knowledge that we have today, the people in ancient Palestine also knew that the human body was a complex thing: made up of many members—each with its own function—that together make a whole; and that if any one part of the body were to be removed, its unity—that is, its “oneness”—would be diminished.  Thus Paul, speaking from this knowledge, uses the body as an analogy to represent the reality of the Church.  The Church is made up of many members, he sees, and each of those members has a function—a very specific function, given to it by the Holy Spirit; and if any of those members fails to fulfill their function, or is removed from the body, then (at best) the whole is diminished and (at worst) its very life is threatened.

          Moreover, Paul says that it is the very Spirit himself that gives the body its unity.  Just as with each human body it is the personal soul that gives it unity and animates it, so too it is the Holy Spirit, in which each of us has been baptized, that animates and gives unity to the Church.  Thus, when Paul says that “To each individual the manifestation of the Spirit has been given for some benefit”, he is saying that each member of the body—no matter how insignificant he or she may seem—has something to offer the whole.  In other words, he seems to be saying that even someone who feels, perhaps, like an Appendix nevertheless has something important to offer.

          My brothers and sisters, it’s no secret that the Church in the United States is languishing.  Less and less Catholics are regularly participating in the Sacramental Life of the Church and many are turning away from the Church all together.  One of the most rapidly increasing categories of religious practice among Americans is “none”: that is, those who claim no religious affiliation or belief at all.  Much of this can be attributed to the influence of the secular culture, or course, but I also think that we have to look at ourselves.  Have we been open to discerning the gifts that the Spirit has given to each of us throughout our lives and thus to using them for the benefit of Christ’s Body, the Church?  And have we worked hard enough to help our young people to do the same?

          If we have not been open to discerning the gifts that the Spirit is giving to each of us, then we are like Appendices: members whose function is not really clear and who pose a significant threat to the body if they begin to malfunction.  And if we aren’t helping our young people to do the same then it’s even worse: for they will often drift away before becoming permanently attached, thus leaving the body without necessary members for the future.

          Nevertheless, my brothers and sisters, we have Good News (I mean, that’s why we call it the “Gospel”, right?).  The Good News is the very thing that we celebrate today: that Jesus, now seated at the right hand of the Father, has sent his Spirit into the Church; and this Spirit is a mighty force that not only has the power to unite us as one body—as it did in Jerusalem that day, drawing “devout Jews from every nation under heaven” together—but who also gives us power to go forth to fulfill Christ’s mission of bringing salvation to all men by incorporating them into his Body through baptism in his Spirit.

          And so, as we close our Easter celebration of 50 days, let us each pray intentionally to the Holy Spirit, asking him to show us the unique gift—big or small—that he has given each of us for furthering Christ’s mission; and let us ask for the courage to go forth boldly so as to manifest that gift in the world—that is, right here in our community—and thus build up the Body of Christ: whose Body we are and whose presence we celebrate, sacramentally, at this altar.

Given and All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – June 8^th, 2014