Homily for the 21st Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle A - preached at St. Kateri at Christ the King August 26/27, 2017

Today's scripture proclamations:  http://usccb.org/bible/readings/082717.cfm

“It is a great day to be a Catholic!”

I haven’t personally heard him say this yet - perhaps you have - I think he’s said it at more than one liturgy.  But my wife heard our new parochial vicar, Father Mike Buontello, proclaim this in a homily at daily mass a couple weeks ago.  “It is a great day…to be a Catholic!”

Now why would we say such a thing, much less why would we proclaim such a thing? 

The answer - because it matters.  It matters that I am Catholic, that we are Catholics.

            A friend sent me an interesting article the other day, written by Deacon John Beagan, a deacon who serves in a parish up near Boston, entitled “What’s Missing in the New Evangelization?”  After reading it I decided this article could just as easily have been entitled, “why aren’t our evangelization efforts working?” Or perhaps “why are we failing to convince people that it matters to be Catholic?”

Bishop Robert Barron asserts that for every one person joining the Church today, six are leaving.  And it is all too apparent, we are an aging Church – where are the young people?

Deacon John asserts that the Church is languishing these days because folks are pretty well off - reasonably comfortable financially, and despite challenging and traumatic events at times, life is pretty good.  He says that “basically, we live in a time and place where, practically speaking, we don’t need God.”

The Holy Father calls the Church a “field hospital for sinners,” but Deacon John writes “When I look at my extended family members and friends who don’t go to Mass, and people in the pews who don’t participate in parish life outside of Mass, I don’t see wounded people in need of a Church hospital.”

He observes that we are basically healthy and content and drifting away from our Lord Jesus.  Why?  The reason he says - “people have been infected by an increasingly steady stream of doubts and false beliefs.”

He cites a questionnaire conducted of Catholics in his hometown just last year, a questionnaire that reveals significant doubts among Catholics.  Doubts that the Church is critical to our relationship with God; doubts about the teaching authority of the Church; doubts about Jesus’ moral teachings as taught by the Church; even doubts that Scripture is the word of God.

Frankly, it seems to me, we’ve largely been evangelized by this world.  Modern media – television, movies, internet – have been far more effective than we’d like to admit in evangelizing us to ways of thinking that are far from God’s way.  And none of us are immune.  How far we’ve strayed in our beliefs about sexuality, economics, our responsibility to the poor.  To the point that the Church is seen as irrelevant, often even among us pewsitters.

The main false belief that has infected us, according to Deacon John, is the belief, the presumption, that everyone goes to heaven.  Eulogies at funerals routinely become canonizations of the deceased.  This belief is, of course, not scriptural, certainly not something the Lord Jesus taught us.  His way, He said, is the narrow gate, and those who enter it are few.    The last thing this world wants us to realize is that we are engaged in a battle - between good and evil, God and Satan, over our eternal souls. 

Which brings me to this Gospel.  Jesus asks “Who do YOU say that I am,” Peter answers with the magnificent confession of faith “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God." Jesus confirms this: “Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah. For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my heavenly Father.”

Our Blessed Lord, the Son of the living God, then invests in Peter His power.  Upon you, Peter, I will build my Church, and the gates of the netherworld will not prevail against her.

And this is why it matters that we are Catholic – Jesus, who has just confirmed that He is the Christ, hands to Peter the keys to His kingdom.  Just as the Lord gave Eliakim the key to the House of David in our first reading from Isaiah, making him the doorkeeper of His household, so Jesus gives Peter the keys to the Kingdom of Heaven, giving him and by extension the Church, the power to bind and loose – what you bind, I will bind in heaven. What you loose, I will loose in heaven.

That day our Lord invested in Peter, as head of the apostles, as the future earthly head of His Church, the power of eternal salvation.  The powr to carry on the mission of Jesus, which is salvation!  No, not everyone goes to heaven, Our Lord makes clear. But the Church, likened to a ship, with Peter as the original helmsman, is charged with the sacred responsibility and power of safely carrying souls across the stormy sea. Across the stormy sea of this world, a sea of disbelief, disorder, and downright evil, safely to our goal, our heavenly homeland.

Sisters and brothers, we are that Church that Our Lord promised to build on the rock of Peter that day.  We are that boat.  It is right here, right back there in that little room in the corner, that we experience in the person of the priest, the power of Jesus to bind and loose – to forgive our sins and call us to ever growing holiness.  The only place, in fact, where our serious sins may be remitted so that we may be reconciled to God. And it is right here at this altar that we experience the most sublime gift Our Lord  left us – His sacred Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity in Eucharist.

So two thoughts to leave you with today –

First, get in the boat.  Humbly think with the Church.  Recall today’s collect, which Father Joe just prayed on our behalf: “O God, who cause the minds of the faithful to unite in a single purpose, grant your people to love what you command and to desire what you promise, that, amid the uncertainties of this world, our hearts may be fixed on that place where true gladness is found.”

Lord, help me to love what you command and desire what you promise.  Incline my heart according to your will, O God.  Give me the humility to realize that you came to save me, and left behind a Church and her holy Sacraments to safely lead me to live with you eternally in that place where true gladness is found.

Second, invite others to get in the boat.  He wants us with Him forever, and He gave us the great gift of our Catholic Faith to lead us there. When we realize what’s at stake – our eternal lives, our eternal gladness – how can we not reach out in love to invite others to get in the boat with us? The most hateful thing we can do is to leave people far from God, wallowing in sin, without hope.

Brothers and sisters, this is the way Our Lord wants to use us in this world – indeed it is our mission as Catholics, the mission Our Lord gave to our fathers and mothers in faith 2,000 years ago, and the mission we took up at our baptism – to go forth be His eternal life-saving presence in this world so increasingly far from Him.

It is indeed a great day to be a Catholic!

It is a great time to be Catholic!

Homily for the 20th Sunday in Ordinary Time, August 19/20 - St. Kateri at St. Cecilia

Today's scripture proclamations:  http://usccb.org/bible/readings/082017.cfm

"It is not right to take the food of the children and throw it to the dogs." From the mouth and lips of Our Blessed Lord.

I was thinking - that seems like an "un-Christian" thing to say to the woman, huh?  More or less calling her a dog.  I don’t know about you, but to my ears and brain, this has to be among the hardest Gospels to figure out.  Why would Our Blessed Lord, true God and true man, perfect in every way, seemingly insult this woman who’s come to Him begging for His help?

I did some reading and the only thing I’m sure of is that nobody can say for sure.  Investigating the original Greek language in which St. Matthew wrote the gospel, it’s clear that Our Lord didn’t mean dogs like a pack of dogs.  The Greek word Matthew uses has a meaning more like a small dog, a pet, a member of the family even. 

And I can relate to that because we have a small dog who’s always around the dinner table ready to pounce on whatever gets dropped (or secretly fed to her).  If that’s the case, then maybe what we take as an insult wasn’t meant to be an insult at all. 

But then again there’s the idea, and Matthew makes this clear, that Jesus is in a foreign district, Tyre and Sidon, and this woman is a foreigner. And not just any foreigner but a Canaanite.  The Canaanites versus the Jewish people – a conflict of hatred that went back centuries. 

We know from the parable of the Good Samaritan that the Jews not liking Samaritans, but to the Jewish community to whom Matthew was writing, well, he’s talking about someone despicable here.  And it was common for the Jews to speak of Canaanites as dogs – and not the household pet variety – this was demeaning and an insult.

And as an aside – Jesus is speaking here to a woman to boot – you’ll recall that it was forbidden to speak in public to a woman, doubly so to speak to a Canaanite woman – either would make you ritually unclean.

So that sets the picture – Our Lord Jesus speaking to this Canaanite woman – whom His disciples would probably have thought a dog – and after her pleading with Him, after her outwitting Him if you will with her response – “even the dogs eat the scraps from the table” – Jesus relents and cures her daughter at once.

This is no doubt a story of her great faith.  Some say it was a turning point, perhaps, in Jesus’ life or so goes one theory – when His eyes are opened not only to the lost sheep of Israel but to all humankind.

And it’s no doubt a story of the need to be persistent in prayer, of never giving up.  What mother would give up in seeking a cure for her daughter, even seeking the cure from a hated Israelite?

But I think the most important takeaway from this story is best framed in what’s happening right now in our own country.  Just like the bright dividing line that separated Jew from Canaanite, who is “in” and who is “out” - we have our own bright dividing lines, don’t we?  And in my lifetime I can’t recall this much intolerance, even hatred on the lips and faces of so many, shown for those on the other side of their line – for those “outside.” Intolerance of anyone with a differing opinion, huh?

Think of all the dividing lines – right, left. Democrat - Republican.  American – foreigner. Catholic - non-Catholic.  Black – white.  Christian – Muslim.  And I could go on.  Scary stuff.  It’s almost a little comforting to know that there were dividing lines in Jesus’ day, and Our Lord (or at least His disciples) were not immune from them.

But faced with this situation, what does Our Lord do?  He has a conversation – with someone on the other side of the line, someone He’s not supposed to be talking to.  He stops, He listens.  And He relents and heals.  He praises her great faith – she who twice calls Him Lord, and Son of David.  In place of hatred, He has sown love. He has made peace.

And He has blurred the dividing line, if not erased it.  Done something that must have shocked His disciples, but something that certainly taught them, too, taught them a new way. 

Sisters and brothers, He’s teaching you and me today as well.  Teaching us that blurring dividing lines is what you and I are called to do.  To focus not on what separates us but on what unites us in our common humanity – what we all have in common.  To follow Jesus, to blur those dividing lines, cross over in conversation, and bring the love and peace, the forgiveness of sin and the salvation bought by Christ’s blood, which we experience here, to all.

I was drawn in to a posting on Facebook the other day – it was entitled “50 groups of people Jesus said it’s OK to hate.”  Intrigued, I opened it, and stared reading, and scrolled down to the listing.  And it was fifty blank lines, numbered one to fifty.  Meaning Jesus gave us the OK to hate no one. 

“Love your enemies, pray for those who persecute you,” He commanded us.  It is incumbent on us, His followers, those who are to be light to the world and salt of the earth, to shine the light of His love into the darkness all around us.

Homily for Sunday, August 6, 2017 - Feast of the Transfiguration of the Lord - 8 and 11 St. Kateri at St. Margaret Mary

Today's scripture readings:  http://usccb.org/bible/readings/080617.cfm

I’m fond, I suppose, of any mention of mountains in our Mass readings.  For the top of a mountain, any mountain, is my happy place, I’ve decided.  There are 115 high peaks in the Northeast – 48 here in New York, 67 in New England – I’ve hiked 63 of them, 7 this summer, and have 52 to go to say I’ve climbed them all.

One of the things that I most like about mountains is how old they are.  Sitting atop a wilderness high peak on a clear day, looking about at God’s creation all around, it’s not hard to imagine that what you’re looking at is pretty much the same thing you’d be seeing if you had been sitting there 10,000 years ago.  You get a sense for how small we are, how temporary we are, how fleeting our lives are.

And you get a sense, too, of the great power and glory of God, who created all the beauty you’re gazing upon from that lofty peak.  I get a real sense that He is God, the eternal creator, and I am not. Hiking mountains gives one a sense of getting away from our day-to-day lives, and in a real way encountering God.

That was the experience, I think, of Peter, James and John as they hiked up Mount Tabor with Our Blessed Lord.  They must have been curious, I think, about why they were hiking this mountain, without the others, and I think they must have been confused about who this Jesus guy was.  They’d given up everything to follow Him, yet they must have wondered at times why – what was He all about.  He was their friend, their confidant, their teacher – Rabbi – but still they must have been confused I think.

And now we know why they were going up the mountain – for there they were given proof that this man Jesus was not only human, but the Son of God Himself.  This was not just a nice hike but an encounter with the living God! His face bright as the sun. His clothes white as light.  Conversing with Elijah the prophet and Moses the bringer of the law.

“This is My beloved Son, with Whom I am well pleased,” said the Father from the cloud.  Here the three apostles are given not a glimpse but a clear high-def picture of who Jesus is - true man, true God.

So I suspect they had to have been completely blown away by what they witnessed – wouldn’t you be?  I know I would be.  Yeah I thought He was a pretty good guy, and He said some things about being “the One” but whoa – He really meant it!

And of course what happened on Mount Tabor wasn’t only for those three – it was for you and me as well.  Especially now, especially in this world we live in. 

It seems to me so much of our faith is focused on how close Jesus is to us – “imminent” is the word – and He is. And we sometimes think of Jesus as this friendly and nice and even fluffy guy – like singing Kumbaya around the campfire.  But how often do we stop to think of Him as “other,” as transcendent, as GOD?” 

Yes He is close to us, He understands our humanity because He walked and talked, was born and even died.  But do we really think of Him as God, as all Holy, which means “other” or “set apart.” Do we really think of Him in His dominion, power and kingship as the first reading speaks of Him?

We just prayed together to Him “You alone are the Holy One. You alone are the Lord.  You alone are the most high, Jesus Christ.”  Wonderful words of worship – but do we stop to dwell on what they mean?  Do we live those words – that He alone is the Holy One, the Lord of our lives?

Sisters and brothers, I think when we stop to ponder His otherness, we realize two things –

First we realize how utterly unworthy of Him we are in our sinfulness.  We get a sense of how wide the gulf is between God and humanity, in our sin.  How my sin offends God who is all good and all holy – offends Jesus who is all good and all holy.

In one version of the Act of Contrition which we pray in the Sacrament of Confession, in the presence of the priest, yes, but praying to Jesus Himself, we pray “O my God I am heartily sorry for having offended you.” 

And we go on “and I detest all my sins because of thy just punishment but most of all because they offend you, my God, who are all good and deserving of all my love.”

Jesus, the eternal Son of God, with Whom the Father is well-pleased, is offended by our sins, because He is God, is all good, all holy, deserving of all my love.  Am I just as offended by my sins, such that I’m resolved to stop sinning so as to please Him rather than offend Him? Glorify Him rather than forget Him?

Considering His glory, His kingship, we might ask ourselves - am I giving Him all my love?  Do I give Him all my worship?  Do I give Him all my life?  Or do I give Him a little piece of my life, my love, my worship, content to worship other things too? Is He my Lord?  Am I letting Him change me, change my life, transfigure my life so that I more and more closely follow after Him?

The second thing is - if we really ponder His otherness, we’ll fall on our knees in thankfulness, that this eternal Son of God, through Whom all things were made, in His great love would condescend to become one of us, to be born of woman, to live and teach and suffer and die – and why?  For you. For me. To save us from our sins. 

We should be filled with awe and thanksgiving that the eternal Son of God, Jesus, out of great love, with great mercy, would come and stand in the abyss between humanity and God, and be a bridge between God and man.  Taking our sins unto Himself and reuniting God and man. Yes – He loves us that much.

Thankfulness is the only proper response when we realize the great gift we’ve received in being invited to be His disciples, to receive His love and mercy, to have Him who is God call us “friend.” Thankfulness and worship are why we gather here at this altar to celebrate Eucharist, which means “thankfulness.” 

Yes, thankfulness is the only proper response to His gift, and resolve, too.  Resolve to live lives more and more worthy of such a gift.  And to share that gift with others.  To share our faith in the eternal Son of God with others, to share the love He pours into our hearts with others, and to share our hope.

Hope that one day, purged of all our sins and made holy, you and I too may stand before the throne of God, our clothes white as light, our faces shining like the sun, our lives transfigured by the life, the love, the mercy of His only begotten Son, Our Lord and eternal Savior, Jesus Christ.