Homily - Solemnity of All Saints, November 1, 2016 - 7p St.Kateri at St. Margaret Mary

Today's Readings:  http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/110116.cfm

I haven’t had dinner yet, so I’ll make this quick.

My day job is in downtown Buffalo, and in the evening as I drive home from Buffalo, it’s hard to miss the giant Powerball billboard just north of I-190.  They keep that billboard updated every day with the current Powerball jackpot.  $198 million, it said last evening.  198 million dollars if you pony up for a ticket and you’re the only one with the winning combination of numbers. 

Now of course you don’t get that much.  If you take it in a lump sum, you forego about a third, and you’re down to $130 million.  Then there are state and federal taxes, which will take almost half of it, leaving you with a paltry $71 and a half million.  Hardly enough to live on!

But can you imagine the good fortune, the incredible luck, of winning that much money?  What would you do with it?

This is what came to mind as I was thinking on the meaning of this solemnity, this feast.  For as much money as 71-and-a-half million dollars is, those women and men who have gone before us and whom we celebrate as saints in heaven have won a prize far greater, far more valuable than any Powerball jackpot, huh?  They’ve won the crown of eternal life, eternal peace, eternal joy, eternal love in the presence of God, standing before the throne of God, gazing on the face of God!

We gather this evening to celebrate their incredible good fortune, to celebrate the lives they’ve led, the example they are to us in the struggles of our lives, the help they provide us by their intercession in our struggles.

But we’re tempted, aren’t we, to think of this day as a feast for them, for those really good people, incredibly better people!  Indeed, we do celebrate today the named saints, those great women and men whose holiness, and courage, and faithfulness have been formally recognized by Holy Mother Church. 

But we also celebrate the host of unnamed men and women who’ve lived quiet lives of holiness, selflessness, and faithfulness to the end, those who’ve died in Christ and now live with Him.  We can be confident that many of the people we knew, who’ve gone before us, are counted among the saints.

But this Feast is not only for them. I think the message for this day is that you and I, brothers and sisters, <pause> are called to join them.  You, and I, are called to be saints.  In fact, if you think about it, that’s really the only thing worth living for.  You. Me. Saints.

Now most people would scoff at such a notion.  Me, a saint?  You’re joking.  You don’t know me very well, do you? You have no idea what I’ve done, all the things I wish I could do over, all the mistakes I’ve made, the sins I’ve committed.

But here’s the thing – with the exception of Saint Mary, the Blessed Virgin Mother of God, every single one of the saints we celebrate today - was a sinner.  Not all were horrific sinners, but some of them terrible sinners.  Thieves.  Adulterers and prostitutes. Murderers, even.

But every saint has one thing in common – each accepted the salvation freely offered by Our Blessed Lord, by His cross and resurrection, by the Blood of the Lamb, and each became a new person.  A new creation as St. Paul, himself a great sinner, wrote.  Saint Augustine, a renowned sinner who is now honored as one of our greatest saints, once said “there is no saint without a past, and no sinner without a future.”

Some, like Paul and Augustine, had dramatic conversion stories, but most a lifelong process of surrender, of turning from sin, seeking His forgiveness, letting Him take possession of their hearts. Living lives of ever-increasing faithfulness. And letting Christ work His amazing work through them.

So the message I hope you’ll take home and take to heart is this – you, and I – each of us – should embrace our call to be saints.  In the words of EWTN host Patrick Coffin:  “Be a saint. What else is there?”

And unlike Powerball, where the odds of winning are about one in 292 million, becoming a saint, something infinitely more valuable and eternally more lasting, is being offered to us as a gift.  If only we accept the gift, repent of our sins, and surrender our lives to Him so that He can work His grace, and mercy, His beatitudes through us. 

Then we have His assurance, His promise, Him who died to save us, that He will cleanse us and gather us on the last day and present us as His pure and spotless gift to His Father. To live forever in the joyful embrace of God, who is Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.

Preached the weekend of October 30, 2016

One of the blessings of having gone to Catholic grade school was to learn about Gospel stories such as this one – the story of Zacchaeus.  I still remember it pretty vividly, from maybe fourth or fifth grade, this story that resonates, I think, with young people, with little people.  I still remember some of the words of the song we learned, which went something like this -

           

There was a man in Jericho called Zacchaeus

            There was a man in Jericho called Zacchaeus

            Now Zacchaeus, he couldn’t see,

            So he climbed a sycamore tree,

            Til the Lord said “Zacchaeus, come on down”

It’s a vivid picture, huh?  I mean this short little dude, jumping up and down trying to see over the crowd gathering as Jesus would soon be passing by.  Zacchaeus had to have known something about the Lord, had to have heard of Him, maybe from his fellow tax-collector Matthew, now one of His apostles. And there must have been some charisma, something incredibly attractive, about the Lord, that so many would gather to catch a glimpse of Him. 

And somehow, Zacchaeus must have wanted to know more, to find out what this Jesus fellow was all about.  Something must have been missing in his life, not quite right in his life.  His riches weren’t fulfilling.  He had to have been feeling torn and I would guess anxious.  His loyalty to the God of Abraham on one hand, his quite lucrative profession on the other hand.  A tax collector, a collaborator of the hated Romans, which made his the scorn of everyone in Jericho.

So he climbs this tree.  This little, well-dressed, wealthy man, up there in the tree.  And the Lord stops.  Speaks to him.  To his heart.  Invites himself to come stay at this man’s house.  This public sinner’s house. 

And Luke tells us Zacchaeus hurries down the tree to meet the Lord and welcome Him to stay with him, welcomes Him into his home, his heart.   And everyone grumbles – this man eats with sinners.

A captivating story, huh?  Not completely different than the parable Jesus told a few weeks ago about the prodigal son.  This passage, like the parable of the prodigal, is a story of conversion, of repentance. And like that story, with three main characters.  In the parable of the prodigal, we remember the father, the prodigal son, the grumbling brother.  In this passage, there’s Zacchaeus, and the Lord, and the grumbling people. 

And like the parable of the prodigal, we’re invited, I think, to ask ourselves which character we identify with, which we’re most like. Which we’re called to be.

Perhaps we identify with Zacchaeus.  This man with something missing in his life.  Who is already generous with his riches, as I read one commentator say.  But knows there must be more.  Knows deep down inside that he’s gotta change, must turn away from his sin, must repent and be converted.  A man who probably doesn’t love himself very much, because of his sinfulness, his shame, and so has no idea how much he’s loved by the God who created him.  The God who, walking by, stops and calls him by name, calls him to climb down out of that tree. 

We’re all, I think, Zacchaeus, for we’re all sinners.  None of us really comprehends the depth of God’s love for us, huh?  All of us are searching for more, for meaning, for joy.

We here in these four walls are truly blessed because here we have found and continue to find the only thing that can bring us true joy, and that’s not a thing but a love relationship with a person, the same person who called Zacchaeus down out of that tree – Our Blessed Lord Jesus Christ.  Who is the only source of true joy, of true fulfillment, of peace, of mercy, of healing.

But isn’t it true that those of us in these four walls can sometimes find ourselves grumbling, like “everyone” else in this story?  Not just the scribes and Pharisees, but “everyone.”  Including the disciples and apostles.  Who might have claimed some “ownership” of the Lord and their own interpretation of what His presence among them signified.  Who grumbled that he would speak to such a sinner, much less invite himself to go stay with such a person.

I know I can be that way.  Judgmental.  Convinced that my understanding of the Lord is the correct one.  Not open to His spirit.  Not open to change, to conversion of my heart. Maybe more interested in wall-building than door-opening.  Not very attractive.

If that describes you, too, sisters and brothers, then perhaps He’s calling us to look for Him anew.  To open our hearts to His invitation to climb out of the tree, to come stay in our homes, in our hearts.  To humbly admit our own sinfulness and open ourselves anew to His call to repent and be converted.  To again experience the peace, the joy that only His mercy can bring.

For if we find here the only thing that brings true fulfillment, true joy, we will have hearts on fire to share that good news with everyone.  We won’t want to hoard Jesus to ourselves but share Him and His message.  We will want to open doors, not build walls.

In this way, you and I as individuals but above all as His Church are called to be the third character in this Gospel – Jesus Himself.  We are called by our baptism to share in His mission and what is that mission?  It’s right there in the last few words of this Gospel – The Son of Man came to seek, and to save, the lost. 

It’s right there, too, in our parish mission statement, which reads “Our mission is to invite and welcome people of all ages, backgrounds and walks of life to embrace and celebrate our vocation – to be Christ to the world.”  And to be Christ to the world means to do what He did - to seek, and to save the lost. 

You see, crazy as it may sound, He ascended into heaven and left you and me to carry on His mission.  Not alone mind you, but guided by and filled with His Holy Spirit, and fed here at His altar with His very Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity, it’s up to you, and me, all of us to be like Him - charismatic, attractive, above all joyful, and to go forth from here be His mercy, His love, in our world.  To seek the lost so that He can save them.

That is our mission - it’s up to you, and me, and us - to welcome and gather them in, where they, too can hear the call we hear, the call to repent, to convert, to change our hearts.  To experience as Zacchaeus did, that life-changing encounter with Jesus Christ, Our Blessed Lord.

Preached the weekend of October 16, 2016

Some say God doesn’t have a sense of humor, but I’m pretty sure this little parable was pretty funny to Our Lord’s listeners.  Jesus says the judge concludes “I shall deliver a just decision for her lest she finally come and strike me.”  The Greek word St. Luke uses literally means “lest she give me a black eye.”

The visual He means us to have, I think, is this scoundrel of a judge with one of those thought bubbles above his head, imagining this little old lady, this widow, with a look of intense anger on her face, coming up to him and smacking him over the head with her purse.

And so the meaning, of course, is that if we nag God long enough, He’ll finally give us what we ask, lest we smack Him over the head, right?

Well, I don’t think so, not exactly.

For we all know from experience, we’ve all prayed long and hard for something, for someone, and in the end it just seemed that God ignored us, didn’t do what we asked.  When the word came a number of years ago that our teenage niece’s cancer was terminal, we prayed so fervently, so persistently, and yet still, we lost her.

And we also know from experience, that sometimes we pray long and hard for something, for someone, that God does answer prayer, sometimes with a miracle.  My wife, sensing better than I did that something was broken in our relationship, prayed quite long and hard for an answer, and that prayer was answered on our Marriage Encounter weekend when we experienced a u-turn, a renewal, a rejuvenation in our marriage.  No telling where we were heading without that weekend.

And a parishioner came up to me last weekend to report two miracles she had just experienced, miracles she had been earnestly, persistently praying for – her granddaughter called to say “Grandma, I’m coming back to the Church” and her grandson called to say “Grandma, I’m going to become a Catholic.”

So we’re faced with an age-old dilemma – why does a good God seemingly answer some prayers and not others?

And the answer to that is that it’s mysterious, that God is always listening, and always does always respond to our prayers, even if not the way we asked, or not in our time.  We can’t manipulate God, you see, but we have His word, we can trust that God is always faithful, and will always give us what we need.  And that God will always bring good out of the worst situation even if we don’t want to see it, or can’t see it yet.

Our niece’s death seemed a catastrophe at the time, except the faith she exhibited despite her suffering, especially at the end, increased the faith of everyone she knew.  Literally hundreds of her friends and classmates and nurses and doctors came to her funeral and told the family how much her life and her illness affected their lives and increased their faith.

And her suffering and death prompted one guy to realize the shortness of life, that we don’t have forever, that if I’m going to pursue becoming a deacon now is the time.  Prayer answered, just not the way we were expecting or hoping.

So - if Jesus isn’t promising us that praying always, threatening a black eye, will necessarily produce from God our desired result, what is He saying?

I think the answer is in that last sentence, which when I first read this seemed out of place with the parable, but which I think explains the meaning of the parable – “but when the Son of Man comes, will He find faith on earth?”

I think Our Dear Lord is telling us to take it up a notch, take it up to 30,000 feet, and look at prayer in the context of faith.  Or faithfulness, which might be a better translation of the Greek word “pistis” – will He find faithfulness on earth.

The key, I think, is to see this Gospel not only in terms of prayer but in the context of  faithfulness, of persisting and remaining faithful in relationship with God to the end, to the coming of the Lord.  Just as we believe God is always faithful, so too are we called to be always faithful, to the end.

We’re getting close to the end of Luke’s Gospel, here, in this passage.  Jesus is traveling to Jerusalem and He’s getting close, close to what He knows is the end of His time on earth.  And He will be leaving us to return at the end of time, when the Son of Man comes.   With the gift of His Holy Spirit, you and I are called to remain faithful until that time.  To remain strong, with our arms held high, to remain in relationship with Him.

And just as any relationship requires intimate communication to grow and flourish, so does our relationship with God - and prayer is that intimate communication.

But we often tend to see prayer in terms only of petition, of our requesting something, from our just judge.  Or in terms of intercession – requesting something for someone we love and care about.  It is that, but more.

Prayer in the context of relationship, in the context of faithfulness – includes praise.  Thankfulness.   Also silence – quiet mental prayer – silent adoration.  And if prayer is communication with God, then one prayer so often overlooked is just listening.  Quieting the heart and mind and listening to what He wants us to hear. Without this communication, we have no relationship with God, not one that will last to the end at least.

What marriage relationship lasts to the end without intimate communication?  Without words of praise?  Without quieting the heart and mind and truly listening? Without sometimes just being still and being in the presence of the other? Without this communication, there is no real relationship, not one that will last to the end, at least.

But just as a husband and wife pledge lifelong faithfulness one to the other on their wedding day, so too do we pledge lifelong faithfulness to God in our baptism, again at our confirmation, and in a real, tangible way when we receive into our minds, hearts, souls and bodies HIS very body, blood, soul and divinity in Holy Eucharist.  Holy Eucharist, which is the highest and greatest of prayers, of intimate communication with Our Blessed Lord.

So let us pledge again, brothers and sisters, let us renew once again our vow to remain faithful in relationship with our God in lifelong fidelity.  And let us renew our pledge to persist in humble, intimate, lifelong prayer with Him who made us, Him who sustains us, and to Whom we shall one day return.

Preached the weekend of October 9, 2016

How thankful, how grateful, are we, really?

We have one day out of 366 devoted solely to giving thanks, but nowadays most of the stores are open on that day, and there are multiple football games to watch, so how thankful are we even on that day?  Praise God that Kohls and the Mall of America and now 40 or so other stores might be starting a trend, deciding not to open on Thanksgiving – we can go back to being thankful for one day a year rather than treating that day as a day for great bargains.

Jesus’ words in this Gospel are pretty easy to understand – be thankful!  End of homily, right?  But let’s go a little deeper – what does it really mean to be truly grateful?

I was thinking about that, meditating on it, researching it even –what is it to be grateful?  I came upon a beautiful TED talk by Brother David Steindl-Rast, a 90-year old Austrian Benedictine monk who lives at Mount Saviour Monastery near Elmira.  His talk is entitled “Want to be happy, be grateful!”

Brother David makes the observation that all of us want to be happy, and that most of us would say that if we’re happy, we’re going to be grateful.  But we all know people who live charmed lives, with all sorts of advantages, who are deeply unhappy, and we all know people who experience great misfortune and tragedy in their lives who are nonetheless deeply happy, who radiate happiness.

Those people who are happy despite all the misfortune life can bring have one thing in common, according to Brother David – they are grateful.

Gratefulness, he says, is found at the intersection of realizing something is truly valuable and realizing it is a free gift, freely given.  And if we want to be truly happy, we won’t be grateful now and then, or on one day a year, but all the time.  We will realize that every moment is a gift.

Sisters and brothers, I think the takeaway Our Blessed Lord wants us to go home with this week – is that thankfulness, gratefulness, is a choice.

Ten lepers are healed.  Ten lepers in effect raised from the dead.  From lives of being completely cut off from family, friends, community, forced to live on the fringe of society and doomed to die of a horrific disease, alone.  And Jesus heals them, restores them, brings them back to the fullness of life, so to speak. 

Yet only one of them is thankful.  Only one stops, realizes this great gift he’s been given, and chooses to go back, falls at Our Lord’s feet and praises God. 

Where are the other nine? Our Lord asks.  I’m guessing they’re happy to be healed, but hey, getting leprosy was a bum deal, not something they deserved, so heck, they deserve to be healed.  And it seems to me we’re not going to be grateful for anything we think we have coming to us, anything we think we deserve.

We tend to take things for granted, or think we’re deserving, we’re entitled.  Hey I deserve this.  I worked hard for that.  You can’t have a truly thankful heart and an attitude of entitlement.

You can’t have a truly thankful heart with an attitude of pridefulness either.  To be grateful means to be realize the gift, and to realize one’s received an unmerited gift means one must humble oneself.

Or take bitterness or anger – how can we be grateful if we’re bitter or angry?  There’s only room in our hearts for one or the other.

And you see, more than a now and then choice, thankfulness is a way of living.  We’re called to choose to be thankful in every situation, in every, single, moment.  For every moment is a free gift from God who created us - every breath.  Every heartbeat.

Brother David says that the key to living gratefully is simple – same as what we were taught as children learning to cross the street.  Stop. Look. Go. 

We need to intentionally stop in moments of our busy lives. It helps to have little stop signs – he put sticky notes on the water faucets and light switches to stop, to realize the gift of water, or light.   

Then look – open our eyes, our ears, all our senses, most of all our minds and hearts to realize the gifts God has freely given us in these moments.

Then go – in that moment we are called to respond.  Maybe it’s just to enjoy the moment, enjoy the gift. Maybe it’s to act out of great gratitude of heart.

I tried this yesterday/Friday and it works.  I was leaving my day job to drive home, and it had been an exhausting, frustrating day, one of those days where nothing went well, and I was in a sour mood.

As I was walking to my car, I stopped and looked.  Looked up and saw the blue sky, felt the warm breeze on my skin, and I remembered the message of this Gospel – be grateful. 

I took a deep breath.  I thanked God for a spectacular autumn afternoon.  Thanked God that I have this job that yesterday at least was causing all my frustrations.  Noticed the bright yellows and reds in the trees as I drove home.  Thanked  God I have a home, a wonderful wife, a family to come home to.

And what a change of attitude!  My frustrations and anxieties melted away as I was thankful for that moment.  Now the key is to remember to always be thankful.  In every moment to stop and look.  To realize that every single moment is God’s gracious gift to me.

Brothers and sisters, in just a few moments you and I will experience once again the most sublime gift, the most sublime moment - that is Eucharist.  When Jesus asks “Has none but this foreigner returned to give thanks to God,” the Greek word St. Luke uses for give thanks is “eucharistein” – the root of the word Eucharist.  At that moment we will receive into our bodies and souls the very Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity of Our Blessed Lord, Jesus Christ. 

For that moment, for that gift, let us be truly thankful.  Let us stop. Taste.  See.  Realize what it is, WHO it is, we are receiving.  Let us receive our Lord as His gift, not as something to take, to snatch, from the Communion Minister’s hand, but as a gracious gift, on the tongue or the flat of our hand. 

For we’ve done nothing to deserve this gift.  So many people, so many Christians even, don’t have this gift.  So let us worthily and with grateful hearts receive the Body and Blood of Christ.  And let this gift transform us into always-grateful people.  And unite and transform us His very presence, the presence of Christ in our Community, our nation, our world.

Homily - 15 Sunday in Ordinary Time Cycle C - Sat/Sun July 9/10 2016 - preached 5p,8,11

Mass readings:  http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/071016.cfm

I asked the Lord what to say this week, and the first thing I heard was “it’s hot, it’s summer, keep it short!”

If you’re like me, with this Gospel passage, so familiar to all of us, I have to resist the temptation to shut down my ears and heart, saying “I’ve heard this one before.”  It’s hard, I think, to listen to such familiar passages with new ears and hearts.  To say to the Lord, “what would you have me hear and learn today that I’ve never heard before?”

For it’s important, no, it’s critically important, no it’s eternally important, that we understand and integrate, take into our lives, what the Lord is telling us today, commanding us, in fact, this day.  For this Gospel is the very heart of the message of Jesus – it’s the very answer to the lawyer’s question “what must I do to inherit eternal life?”

Indeed, isn’t it the answer to the question, “what does it mean to be a follower, a disciple, a believer in Jesus Christ?”

And the answer boils down to this, I think – in compassion, in mercy, we go out of our way to help our neighbor.

A man is left half dead by bandits and three people pass by.  A priest.  A Levite.  A Samaritan.  Each, Our Lord tells us, and this is an important detail, sees the man.  The priest and Levite, “saw him and passed by on the opposite side.” 

Why? 

Perhaps frightened that the same thing would happen to them if they were to stop to help. 

Maybe late for a meeting or family gathering. 

Not allowed to touch a corpse, for to do so would make one ritually impure.

Whatever the reason, each was presented with a decision – stop and help or pass by on the other side.

The real reason the two pass by, Our Lord tells us, is this – both lack compassion.   The emotion, the motivation, to “suffer with” another.  Another word for it is empathy – the ability to put oneself in another’s shoes.  How would I want to be treated if it were me left half dead?

It was the hated Samaritan, Our Lord tells us, who was compassionate.  The Samaritan who transcends what he’s been taught about whom to love and whom to hate.  Transcends whom he’d probably been taught who his neighbor was and who wasn’t.

Who might have been late for a meeting himself, who might have been equally repulsed to touch someone who looked like a corpse.

Who stopped, cleaned and bandaged the injured man.  Put him on his beast.  Took him to an inn.  Provided for his care.

Went out of his way to help.

That, I think, is the message for me and you, and as a parish and Church, for all of us this weekend.  The message for you and me and us – who as disciples of Him who is the image of the invisible God, are called to be images of Him. 

Our Blessed Lord commands us, and this is no lofty command, He commands us as His followers to be people who go out of our way to help.  A people who are always open to encountering others, always making ourselves available, to help our neighbor.

And the second thing Our Lord is teaching us is that anyone, friend or foe, everyone is our neighbor. 

Everyone - male, female, black, white, Latino, Asian, believer, unbeliever, Christian, Jew, Muslim, young, old, born, unborn, gay, straight, resident, immigrant, all are our neighbor.  Luke Timothy Johnson writes that Jesus demands that we become people who “treat everyone we encounter – however frightening, alien, naked or defenseless – with compassion.”  “You go and do the same” is His command.

Sisters and brothers, you and I are presented many times each day with such decision points, such opportunities for encounter – walk by on the opposite side or stop to help.  Decisions which place demands on us - demands on our time, our talents, our treasure.  Demands perhaps on our leisure, our comfort, on our convenience.

Checking email a couple days ago, I saw an email for my wife from the Red Cross saying there’s a critical shortage of blood.  I opened the email and saw that there was a blood drive right here at St. Kateri today(yesterday).  Decision point.  I haven’t given blood in a couple years, I thought.  Time to go out of my way.  Plus the chance to practice what I was planning to preach.

In our bulletin most weeks, there is an entire page of ways in which we, too, can be compassionate Samaritans.  Here at St. Kateri we’re blessed that we have so many people who follow this command of Jesus to love neighbor as self – to be merciful and compassionate as we would want to be shown mercy and compassion.  In scores of ways our parishioners going out of their way to reach out to neighbor, visiting the homebound, caring for the sick and dying, transporting the elderly, teaching, coaching, catechizing our youth, singing and serving at funerals, feeding the hungry, and I could go on.

By being open to encountering neighbor in all sorts of ways.  By exercising mercy – the corporal works and the spiritual works of mercy.

Sisters and brothers, we are all called this week, I believe, to examine our lives, our priorities, and how we choose when we are faced with that decision, that eternal decision, one that defines us as disciples of the Lord Jesus Christ.  Do we cross look the other way and cross over to the opposite side? Or with compassion, do we take the risk to stop to help?

Homily - June 4/5 2016 - 5p/9a St. Cecilia

Mass readings:  http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/060516.cfm

Reading and praying on these readings, it occurred to me – I don’t remember ever hearing these readings, this Gospel, before.  So I did a little digging – and best I can come up with (and I could be wrong) was that the last time we heard these readings proclaimed at Sunday Mass was in 1989, 27 years ago.  In every third year since then, we’ve celebrated the feast of the Holy Trinity or Corpus Christi on this date.

Many times, it’s a real challenge to me to really listen to the readings, since I’m so familiar with them, heard them so many times before.  Not so this weekend.  It almost seemed to me that someone slipped in a couple new passages into the lectionary!

In both our first reading and Gospel, we see the raising from the dead of a widow’s son, first by God invoked by Elijah, then by the power of Jesus Christ, in a miraculous sign of which word spread far and wide.  And in our second reading St. Paul speaks of a spiritual raising from the dead, speaking of His own conversion from a persecutor of Christians to Apostle of the Lord, Apostle to the gentiles.

So I think Holy Mother Church, by putting these three proclamations together, wants us to focus on miracles – specifically miracles which bring death to life!

Now some people in our day and age read scripture and say we don’t have miracles any more.  Perhaps the miracles we experience aren’t quite as visually earthshaking as the raising of the widows’ sons, but miracles we have - if we are open to seeing them.

Did you ever walk into Wegmans in the middle of February, -2 degrees outside, and stop in your tracks at the door, marveling at the beauty and abundance of the fresh fruits and vegetables before you?  I have.  I look at that and think – that’s a miracle.  Thank you, God.

The last time I stood here and preached, there wasn’t a single leaf on the trees and bushes, hardly a single flower in the gardens.  When you leave Mass tonight(today), stop for a moment and marvel at the miracle of springtime.  The splendor of new life all around us.

Oh, that’s beautiful, you might say, but not a miracle.  It’s the way God made things to be.  True enough, but isn’t that the miraculous power of God bringing the light and life of springtime out of the darkness and death of winter?

In our own lives, we will see the miraculous power of God, if only we are open to seeing.  My mother and her sister went like 30 years without speaking to each other.  I can’t tell you why that was.  Nor do I I know which one made the first gesture of reconciliation, or if maybe someone else reached out to both of them to bring them together, but as wonderful a person as my mom was, it was comforting to know that she didn’t go to her grave distant from her own sister.  They reconciled.  Buried whatever hatchet caused 30 years of silence, distance.  Anyone who knows the darkness and death of broken, estranged relationships, would call that a miracle.

In my own marriage – eight or so years in – my wife Pam and I were very distant.  I was completely about my work, she was totally busy with our three daughters, and we were drifting apart.  Neither of us was happy, each with unmet expectations of what married life was going to be like. 

No telling where our marriage would have ended up had not we been invited to make a Marriage Encounter weekend.  That was the answer some fervent prayers – mostly my wife’s - as she was the one most in tune with how distant we’d become.  Somehow by God’s grace I was open to making the weekend.  That weekend, led by Kathy and Bill, Dale and Lea, Barb and Dave and Basilian Father Jack Murray, was a life-changing three days for us, a U-turn in our relationship with each other and with God.  A rebirth of hope for our future together.  A renewal of the love we vowed on our wedding day.

Now you might say that’s no miracle, but to have experienced the grace and healing and strength of the Holy Spirit as powerfully as we did on that weekend – well to me that was a miracle.  It was, in a very real sense, Christ bringing light into darkness, life out of death.  Through the words and example of His holy priest, Father Jack, and these three couples who shared their stories and their love.

You see, I think the one takeaway from this weekend is that Christ desires to continue to work miracles, as He did in St. Paul’s conversion, as He did for the widow and her son, as He did for my wife and me.  And to do that, since He’s no longer here to walk and talk and listen and love, He calls you and me, He calls US the Church, to work miracles in His name. 

That’s what Father Jack and the three couples who presented our Marriage Encounter weekend did.  And it’s what Pam and I were called to do for the ten years or so after that, when we too presented Marriage Encounter weekends, letting Christ use us to heal other couples through the power of His Holy Spirit.

And that’s what we are all called to this weekend.  Strengthened and nourished here by sharing in His Most Blessed Body and Blood, we are called to go forth to seek miracles – to seek the mercy, the healing and reconciliation that we need, and then to share our miracles, share our healings, our reconciliations, our peace, our joy, with others.

For only through you and me, brothers and sisters, can Our Blessed Lord continue to work miracles in our world today.

Homily - June 4/5 2016 - 5p/9a St. Cecilia

Mass readings:  http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/060516.cfm

Reading and praying on these readings, it occurred to me – I don’t remember ever hearing these readings, this Gospel, before.  So I did a little digging – and best I can come up with (and I could be wrong) was that the last time we heard these readings proclaimed at Sunday Mass was in 1989, 27 years ago.  In every third year since then, we’ve celebrated the feast of the Holy Trinity or Corpus Christi on this date.

Many times, it’s a real challenge to me to really listen to the readings, since I’m so familiar with them, heard them so many times before.  Not so this weekend.  It almost seemed to me that someone slipped in a couple new passages into the lectionary!

In both our first reading and Gospel, we see the raising from the dead of a widow’s son, first by God invoked by Elijah, then by the power of Jesus Christ, in a miraculous sign of which word spread far and wide.  And in our second reading St. Paul speaks of a spiritual raising from the dead, speaking of His own conversion from a persecutor of Christians to Apostle of the Lord, Apostle to the gentiles.

So I think Holy Mother Church, by putting these three proclamations together, wants us to focus on miracles – specifically miracles which bring death to life!

Now some people in our day and age read scripture and say we don’t have miracles any more.  Perhaps the miracles we experience aren’t quite as visually earthshaking as the raising of the widows’ sons, but miracles we have - if we are open to seeing them.

Did you ever walk into Wegmans in the middle of February, -2 degrees outside, and stop in your tracks at the door, marveling at the beauty and abundance of the fresh fruits and vegetables before you?  I have.  I look at that and think – that’s a miracle.  Thank you, God.

The last time I stood here and preached, there wasn’t a single leaf on the trees and bushes, hardly a single flower in the gardens.  When you leave Mass tonight(today), stop for a moment and marvel at the miracle of springtime.  The splendor of new life all around us.

Oh, that’s beautiful, you might say, but not a miracle.  It’s the way God made things to be.  True enough, but isn’t that the miraculous power of God bringing the light and life of springtime out of the darkness and death of winter?

In our own lives, we will see the miraculous power of God, if only we are open to seeing.  My mother and her sister went like 30 years without speaking to each other.  I can’t tell you why that was.  Nor do I I know which one made the first gesture of reconciliation, or if maybe someone else reached out to both of them to bring them together, but as wonderful a person as my mom was, it was comforting to know that she didn’t go to her grave distant from her own sister.  They reconciled.  Buried whatever hatchet caused 30 years of silence, distance.  Anyone who knows the darkness and death of broken, estranged relationships, would call that a miracle.

In my own marriage – eight or so years in – my wife Pam and I were very distant.  I was completely about my work, she was totally busy with our three daughters, and we were drifting apart.  Neither of us was happy, each with unmet expectations of what married life was going to be like. 

No telling where our marriage would have ended up had not we been invited to make a Marriage Encounter weekend.  That was the answer some fervent prayers – mostly my wife’s - as she was the one most in tune with how distant we’d become.  Somehow by God’s grace I was open to making the weekend.  That weekend, led by Kathy and Bill, Dale and Lea, Barb and Dave and Basilian Father Jack Murray, was a life-changing three days for us, a U-turn in our relationship with each other and with God.  A rebirth of hope for our future together.  A renewal of the love we vowed on our wedding day.

Now you might say that’s no miracle, but to have experienced the grace and healing and strength of the Holy Spirit as powerfully as we did on that weekend – well to me that was a miracle.  It was, in a very real sense, Christ bringing light into darkness, life out of death.  Through the words and example of His holy priest, Father Jack, and these three couples who shared their stories and their love.

You see, I think the one takeaway from this weekend is that Christ desires to continue to work miracles, as He did in St. Paul’s conversion, as He did for the widow and her son, as He did for my wife and me.  And to do that, since He’s no longer here to walk and talk and listen and love, He calls you and me, He calls US the Church, to work miracles in His name. 

That’s what Father Jack and the three couples who presented our Marriage Encounter weekend did.  And it’s what Pam and I were called to do for the ten years or so after that, when we too presented Marriage Encounter weekends, letting Christ use us to heal other couples through the power of His Holy Spirit.

And that’s what we are all called to this weekend.  Strengthened and nourished here by sharing in His Most Blessed Body and Blood, we are called to go forth to seek miracles – to seek the mercy, the healing and reconciliation that we need, and then to share our miracles, share our healings, our reconciliations, our peace, our joy, with others.

For only through you and me, brothers and sisters, can Our Blessed Lord continue to work miracles in our world today.