Wednesday, August 26, 2015

Homily for the 21st Sunday in Ordinary Time, preached August 22/23 at St. Kateri at St. Cecilia



            We all know someone, I’m sure, who’s left the faith.  Who’s either gone someplace else to Church, or just stopped going to Church altogether.  Maybe a son or daughter, brother or sister, perhaps a parent or cousin, friend or co-worker.  If you’re like me, you just don’t get it.  I mean, I love our faith, I love the Mass, I can’t imagine why anyone would walk away.

            I met a man just this (yesterday) morning who told me he used to be a Catholic.  We were both participating in a peaceful, prayerful protest vigil over on Ridge Road in Greece in front of the Planned Parenthood clinic there, part of a nationwide protest of Planned Parenthood, in response to the recent undercover videos (which you won’t see in the mainstream press but which are thankfully readily available on-line). Videos which lift the veil of secrecy and reveal the abhorrent practices going on there.

            Well it was near the end of the vigil that this man came up to me – he saw that I had on a shirt that identified me as a Catholic deacon – and I suspect he wanted to engage me in a discussion of faith.  I would have welcomed that.  But I think we both recognized that we weren’t there to try to win each other to each other’s brand of Christianity, but rather we were there united, witnessing against the evil of legal abortion.  He told me he’d love to get together with me to talk faith, and perhaps we will.

            As I was driving home, I kicked myself as my mind and heart moved to today’s Gospel reading.  Why, oh why, I said to myself, didn’t I at least invite him to go home and read and meditate on this Gospel?  Why, I said to myself, didn’t I simply invite him to take another look at the sixth chapter of St. John’s Gospel?

            That chapter, of course, contains our Blessed Lord’s “Bread of Life” discourse, which we’ve been proclaiming now for five weeks, and we conclude today, returning next weekend to our journey through the Gospel of Mark. 

            You’ll recall that last week, Jesus said to the crowds, “I am the living bread that came down from heaven; whoever eats this bread will live forever.”  Our Lord went on to proclaim “Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him on the last day.  For my flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink.  Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me and I in him.”

            In today’s Gospel, we see the result of that very hard teaching.  “As a result of this, many of his disciples returned to their former way of life and no longer accompanied him,” John tells us.  You can almost hear the crowd murmuring “Dang, I thought He was ‘the one’ sent to save Israel.  But eat his flesh? Drink his blood?  This guy must be a madman!” Went back to their former ways of living.  Left discipleship, stopped following the Lord.

            And our literal belief in this teaching, our belief that in the appearance of bread and wine at this altar, Jesus is really and truly present, Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity, a teaching that wasn’t an issue at all in the early Church, well this is one of the main dogmas that now separates us from unity with our non-Catholic brothers and sisters.

            But, I have to believe it is also this teaching that will restore that unity, will bring folks back to the Church, will bring folks to His Church, to His altar.  If only we will share it.

            Perhaps we’re reluctant to share this belief with others because we have our own doubts, our own share of disbelief.  If you and I read and learn and study and take into our hearts this “hard teaching,” then we have His assurance that He will set our hearts on fire.  He will come into our bodies and souls in a real way and dwell within us and His Spirit will convict us of His real and sacred presence.  And we will not be afraid to share this belief with others, as I failed to do this (yesterday) morning. 

            Or perhaps we’re simply numb to His presence, we come to Mass and go through the motions and we take for granted the awesome miracle that we witness and participate in here at this altar.  We take for granted that the Lord of the Universe, through Whom all was created, becomes right here in the re-presentation of His sacrifice on Calvary, really and truly present, really and truly available to us.  A real and true gift of Himself to us.

            If that’s the case, then maybe you and I aren’t spending enough time preparing our hearts to receive Him, prayerfully meditating on what is about to happen here.  Examining our consciences – am I worthy, free of grave sin, to receive Him?  Asking Him to not let us ever take this gift for granted.

            Or maybe we’re not spending enough time after receiving Him.  Do we head to the doors immediately upon receiving Him, in a race to see who can get out of the parking lot first? Or do we kneel and pray in humble and heart-felt thanksgiving that He who created the stars would condescend to come and dwell with and within us?

            This belief in His real presence, is at the very heart of our faith, for Jesus in His sacred Body and precious Blood is the very source and summit of our faith, so say the fathers of the second Vatican Council.  Rekindling the belief in Our Lord’s real presence in the Eucharist is the only thing, our Bishop Salvatore said at his Mass of Installation, the only thing that he hopes to accomplish in his time as our shepherd.

            If our faith in His real presence is rekindled, we will unashamedly invite others to receive this same wondrous gift.  He will be ever so much more present to us on our journey, to inspire us to follow Him more closely, to love Him and one another more deeply, and out of love and gratitude to Him, to serve each other, and especially the poor, the disenfranchised, the powerless more faithfully.

            I’d like to close with a beautiful passage from Dr. Scott Hahn and his wife Kimberly’s book, “Rome Sweet Home.”  A Calvinist by upbringing and seminary education, Dr. Hahn had been more and more drawn to the Catholic faith until one day, he decided for the first time to see what this Catholic Mass was all about.  He writes:

            “I watched and listened as the readings, prayers and responses – so steeped in Scripture – made the Bible come alive.  I almost wanted to stop the Mass and say, ‘Wait.  That line is from Isaiah; the song is from the Psalms.  Whoa, you’ve got another prophet in that prayer.’

            “I realized, this is where the Bible belongs.  This was the setting in which this precious family heirloom was meant to be read, proclaimed and expounded.  Then we moved into the Liturgy of the Eucharist…

            “I wanted to stop everything and shout, ‘Hey, can I explain what’s happening from Scripture? This is great!’ Instead I just sat there, famished with a supernatural hunger for the Bread of Life.

            “After pronouncing the words of consecration, the priest held up the Host.  I felt as if the last drop of doubt had drained from me.  With all of my heart, I whispered, ‘My Lord and my God. That’s really you! And if that’s really you, then I want full communion with you.  I don’t want to hold anything back.”

            <pause>   Sisters and brothers, as Father _____ again holds up the Sacred Host, as we receive Him, Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity into our bodies and souls, let us this day proclaim with all of our hearts, “my Lord and my God.”

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