Homily for Wednesday, 8 July 2015– Ferial

Wednesday of the 14th week in Ordinary Time

Readings of the day: Genesis 41:55-57, 42:5-7a, 17-24a;  Psalm 33:2-3, 10-11, 18-19; Matthew 10:1-7

Have any of us ever been angry at another person, and then this person ends up being in need? Perhaps this person is in need precisely because of poor choices she or he has made. The need of a person with whom we are angry presents us with two choices: Deny help to the person with whom we are angry or satisfy her or his need.

In Genesis; our first reading, Joseph is faced with these two choices. A famine strikes Egypt. Just before this in Genesis, Joseph’s brothers sell him into slavery, but Joseph gains a position of privilege in Pharaoh’s court. Joseph has been placed in charge of food rations during the famine. And who but Joseph’s own brothers appear before him, hungry and asking him for rations?

Joseph could have sent his brothers away to die of hunger as revenge for their having sold him into slavery. But instead he gives them food rations so that they and their families may live. Importantly here Joseph does not allow his brothers to escape consequences for their actions. (There is often a fine line between forgiveness and holding one another accountable.) We hear that Joseph “spoke sternly to” his brothers. One of Joseph’s brothers is to remain imprisoned while two of them bring the food rations to their families. And then they are to bring their youngest brother back to Joseph as a witness that the rations were in fact given to their families. At the end of this encounter among Joseph and his brothers we hear that Joseph “wept” as his brothers went on their way.

There are consequences for the brothers having sold Joseph into slavery. Yet just as importantly Joseph’s forgiveness of his brothers; his supplying them with rations does not depend on their repentance beforehand. Joseph has already forgiven his brothers before they ask him for food. Does God not invite us to the same forgiveness; the same anticipation of the needs of our brothers and sisters as shown by Joseph in our first reading today?

Jesus’ instruction to the Twelve in Matthew’s Gospel not to go to the pagans or Samaritans but first “to the lost sheep of the house of Israel” might be a similar invitation to that through the encounter among Joseph and his brothers to forgiveness that anticipates one another’s need. Is this not so different from holding grudges, engaging in gossip or personal attacks? Jesus, like Joseph, is not asking us to let those who have wronged us escape consequences. But Jesus is asking us, out of love, to satisfy one another’s basic needs (food, water, shelter, and so forth); to uphold one another’s human dignity regardless of whether another person “deserves” our charity. And Jesus, like Joseph, asks us to forgive even before others ask us for forgiveness. Have we not at times been in need of forgiveness ourselves; been among “the lost sheep of the house of Israel”?

To anticipate the basic needs of our brothers and sisters, even when their actions or choices may have put them in need; to anticipate one another’s need for forgiveness: These are our duties of love for one another. These are values of the “Kingdom of heaven.”

Homilía del martes, 7 de julio, 2015– Feria

Martes de la 14a semana en el tiempo ordinario

Lecturas del día: Génesis 32:23-33;  Salmo 17:1b, 2-3, 6-7ab, 8b, 15; Mateo 9:32-38

Dí esta homilía en la capilla de la Iglesia San Miguel, Parroquia Sta. Frances Xavier Cabrini, Rochester (Nueva York).

This homily was given in the chapel of St. Michael's Church, St. Frances Xavier Cabrini Parish, Rochester, NY.

¿Ha sido momentos en nuestras vidas cuando hemos deseado la certitud? ¿Alguna vez han deseado la certitud en su búsqueda de empleo o (cómo yo en este momento) aplicando para estudiar? ¿Cuantas personas aquí han deseado la certitud sobre su salud o la salud de un querido?

Creo que desear la certitud en nuestras vidas es muy natural. La búsqueda de certitud influye sobre nuestra fe. ¿Cuantas personas aquí se han preguntado, o mejor han rezado para que Dios nos ilumina sobre la buena acción o decisión a tomar en tal situación? ¿Cuantas personas aquí serían consoladas si podriamos saber con certitud que sí, un familiar o otro ser amado que ha muerto ya está en el cielo?

Nuestras lecturas de hoy se tratan de nuestra tendencia de buscar; de desear la certitud. Quedando solo cerca del río Yaboc, Jacob lucha contra “un hombre” que llegamos a saber es enviado por Dios. El hombre anónimo deja Jacob, al punto de amanecer, con una cadera dislocada. He amanecido mal de vez en cuando, ¡pero que manera brusco de dispertar a alguien! El hombre con quien lucha Jacob nunca deja saber a Jacob su nombre. Deja a Jacob en su incertitud.

Pero a pesar de su incertitud Jacob se siente de una manera victorioso. ¿Y porqué Jacob se siente victorioso? Queda herido a la cadera. Y el hombre con quién lucha no le revela su nombre pero cambia el nombre de Jacob a Israel, lo que significa “lucha con Dios.” Pero Jacob dice al fin, “He luchado con Dios cara a cara y he quedado con vida.”

Hay aquí palabras de confianza. No sólo lucha Jacob contra el hombre desconocido, pero lucha contra su propia incertitud. Su lucha es verdaderamente una lucha de fe; una lucha con Dios “cara a cara” a través de qué Dios da vida y fortalezca a Jacob; a “Israel,” el luchador con Dios. Y de la misma manera Dios nos invita a confiar en Él; de desear no siempre la certitud pero a encontrar a Dios en medio de nuestra incertitud; nuestros momentos de debilez de cuerpo, de mente, o de alma.

Jesús nos invita en nuestro Evangelio a la misma confianza que llega a tener Jacob en el libro de Génesis. “La multitud” que siga a Jesús al sitio en donde cura a un demonio acepta su invitación a confiar en Él; en su capacidad de curar y sanar a los enfermos. Podemos imaginar que los fariseos que rechazan a Jesús en el Evangelio de hoy estaban buscando de una manera la certitud. La curación del demonio mudo quién empieza a hablar introduzca cuestiones; incertitud a esta situación: ¿De quién ha recibido Jesús el poder curativo: De Dios o de un demonio? ¡Qué desorden introduzca Jesús a este encenario!

Pero es una desorden que cura; que sana si estamos dispuestos a aceptarlo; a encontrar a Dios en medio del desorden; de nuestra incertitud. Dios no garantiza que será fácil o, cómo Jacob, no vamos a ser heridos de vez en cuando. Pero Dios nos invita y nos prometa que nos dará vida si, sobre todo en medio de la incertitud, buscamos con confianza a encontrar y a luchar con Dios “cara a cara.” 

Homily for Sunday, 5 July 2015

14th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Readings of the day: Ezekiel 2:2-5; Psalm 123:1-2, 2, 3-4; 2 Corinthians 12:7-10; Mark 6:1-6

This homily was given at St. Frances Xavier Cabrini Parish, Annunciation Church, Rochester, NY.

When have we recognized, or failed to recognize, the presence of God in our midst? How are we called to be changed; transformed by God to recognize better the presence of God among us?

These are key questions to ask ourselves when we examine our consciences. Are not many if not most of us familiar with the practice of examination of conscience? An honest examination of conscience is a valuable way to prepare to celebrate the sacrament of reconciliation. Examination of conscience can be not only excellent preparation for reconciliation, but it is a practice I encourage us to take up daily. To make an examination of conscience is not only to recognize when we have sinned or done wrong, although this is part of it. It is primarily, I think, or recognition of moments when God has been present in our lives; in our encounters with one another; in prayer; in worship. It is, first and foremost, a profound act of trust in God’s mercy.

We pray in our Psalm response today: “Our eyes are fixed on the Lord, pleading for his mercy.” What is God’s mercy? Do not many of us; many Catholics; many Christians have a sense of God’s mercy as something we plead for when we have done wrong; when we feel guilty. How many of us have made a confession like this when celebrating reconciliation: “Father, forgive me for I have sinned. I did x twice and y five times and z ten times”? This kind of confession of a list of sins in number and in kind is well and good. I do not wish to criticize anybody who has made this kind of confession. We are meant to confess all serious sins and the number of times we commit them. I have made the “number-and-kind” confession myself. But God’s mercy; our trust in God’s mercy is so much more than this.

What is God’s mercy, then? What does it mean for us to trust in God’s mercy? For me, to trust in God’s mercy means first to be as aware as we are able of God’s presence in our lives through prayer; through works of service; through people we encounter; through worship. God’s mercy; God’s presence in our lives can and often does convict us of sin. God did precisely this through the prophets of the Old Testament. Prophets like Ezekiel in our first reading were sent to urge the people of Israel to repent from sin; to recognize their sin, their unfaithfulness to God and their injustice toward the most vulnerable of their own people. But they would only recognize their sin if they first recognized that God was not out to punish them; that our God is a God of mercy who loves us and wants us to love God and one another above all else.

Yes, God describes the people of Israel to Ezekiel as “rebels… hard of face and obstinate of heart.” But even in these harsh words there is hope for the people of Israel. God would not have sent Ezekiel or many other prophets to the ancient Israelites if there were no hope for them to repent; to turn away from sin and once again renew their trust in and faithfulness to God. This is God’s mercy at its heart: God hopes in us. God has created us as all-good. Sin is not of God but is our willful choice not to love as God loves us; not to act with God’s mercy and justice toward one another; not to act for peace; for one another’s good; the good and unity of our families; our friendships; of the Church.

God’s mercy can and does convict us of sin and urge us to repent. God’s mercy works this way through the prophet Ezekiel. God laments to Ezekiel that the people of Israel have become “rebels… hard of face and obstinate of heart”; that the future of their nation is at stake if they do not turn to God and away from sin. Yet God maintains hope that at least “they shall know that a prophet has been among them.” The people of Israel will have encountered the presence; the mercy of God, “whether they heed or resist.”

God’s mercy works in a similar way in our Gospel reading from Mark God’s mercy convicts of their sin those who do not repent and believe in Jesus; those who belittle him as “the carpenter, the son of Mary.” Jesus returns to “his native place… to teach in the synagogue” of his hometown. We would expect that many would have recognized and rejoiced in Jesus’ presence in his hometown. And probably many did. After all, by this point Jesus had become famous for his miracles; his healing the sick; his regard for the poor; his preaching and teaching. But enough people in Jesus’ hometown synagogue dismiss him as a mere “carpenter” so that Jesus “was not able to perform any mighty deed” in “his native place.” There, in Jesus’ home, “he was amazed at their lack of faith.”

But all is not lost with this bleak ending to Jesus’ visit home. Can we imagine that, if nobody there had faith in Jesus as God in their midst; if everybody had dismissed Jesus in his hometown, there would have been no Christian faith to hand on for over two thousand years. We would not be here if enough people who first encountered Jesus had not recognized him as God; had not been willing to be changed; transformed; healed; forgiven by him. Even in our Gospel reading we hear of “a few sick people” upon whom Jesus laid his hands to heal them. This is God’s mercy at work the day of Jesus’ visit home; this is God’s mercy at work among us now.

God’s mercy convicts of sin; convicts us when our faith is lacking; urges us to repentance. But God’s mercy works in so many other ways. God’s mercy keeps us steadfast; forms our conscience when we know we are acting rightly and justly. God’s mercy also keeps us humble: We recognize that we need God; God’s mercy; God’s grace to live as God has created us, for love of God and of one another.

Perhaps nobody in our Scriptures knew the reach of God’s mercy more deeply than St. Paul. By God’s mercy, St. Paul had experienced conversion from being a persecutor to an apostle, preacher, and builder of our faith. The same mercy of God kept St. Paul steadfast in his faith; in the knowledge that his works; the Gospel of Christ he preached were right. This same mercy of God kept St. Paul humble and yet confident in his mission (yes, it is possible to be both humble and confident!). St. Paul is able to endure times of seeming ineffectiveness in proclaiming and spreading our Christian faith. Especially in Corinth, a rich, independent, and stubborn community that was particularly troublesome to St. Paul, he is able to endure while being humbled by this “thorn in the flesh.” Because of God’s mercy, St. Paul has the boldness to proclaim to the Corinthians what would be beyond our logic without God’s mercy: “For when I am weak, then I am strong.”

By God’s mercy we, like St. Paul, find strength when we are at our weakest. By God’s mercy we are able to proclaim and spread Christ’s Gospel confidently yet humbly. In mercy God convicts us of sin; urges us to repentance; makes us better able to confess when we have sinned; transforms us; heals us. By God’s mercy we are able to show one another mercy. By God’s mercy we are able to recognize the presence of God in our midst.

Homily for Thursday, 2 July 2015– Ferial

Thursday of the 13th week in Ordinary Time

Readings of the day: Genesis 22:1b-19;  Psalm 115:1-2, 3-4, 5-6, 8-9; Matthew 9:1-8

Have you ever encountered somebody (or have you been somebody) who trusts another person; trusts you; trusts God to the point that this person would do anything for the person she or he trusts? Can this kind of unfailing trust not sometimes appear to us to be naïve?

We hear in our readings today of people with great depth of trust in another. First we hear of Abraham, who has such faith in God that he is willing to sacrifice his only son, Isaac on a makeshift altar in the wilderness of Moriah. And then we hear in Matthew’s Gospel reading of the trust some in the crowds had in Jesus’ ability to heal a paralytic whom they bring to Jesus “on a stretcher.” Matthew contrasts the trust in Jesus of those who bring the paralytic to him and the lack of trust; the lack of faith of “some of the scribes,” those we would expect to have the deepest trust and faith in God but do not.

On the surface, does our Gospel reading of Jesus’ healing of the paralytic not seem much more believable to us than Abraham’s near-sacrifice of Isaac in Genesis? To me it seems far-fetched that God would ask of Abraham, and Abraham would be willing to carry out, the sacrifice of his only son, only to have a “messenger” of the LORD stop him just as he is about to kill Isaac. Would God ask this of Abraham after promising Abraham and Sarah for many years that they would have a child together; that this child would be the first of many descendants, numbered as the stars? I think this would be highly unlikely.

Jesus’ healing of the paralytic is much more believable than Abraham’s near-sacrifice of Isaac. At least the people of Israel in Jesus’ time knew of Jesus’ reputation as a healer. It is not a surprise that they bring the paralytic and many others to him who are in need of healing. If anything the unbelief of “some of the scribes” is somewhat exaggerated here in Matthew’s Gospel. Their charge of blasphemy seems to be illogical; a charge out of nowhere against Jesus, whom many religious leaders of the day felt was a threat to their authority.

But despite the far-fetched elements of our readings, is there not a parallel between them: Limitless trust? Our God’s ability and willingness to ensure our good is limitless, and so are we not invited to have trust in God that is equally limitless?

If we trust in God without limits, God will often go beyond what we have trusted in God to do for us. Abraham trusted that God would keep his promise to Abraham of descendants in faith in unlimited number, even as God was seemingly asking Abraham to sacrifice Isaac. Abraham trusted that, as Sr. Sandra Schneiders, IHM, says, God is not a God of destruction. Even if Abraham had sacrificed Isaac, something greater; somehow life-giving would arise from this. And the paralytic and many in the crowds in Mark’s Gospel are rewarded for their trust more than they could have imagined. Not only is the paralytic healed, but his sins are forgiven!

The reward is great, and maybe even a bit far-fetched, when we trust limitlessly in our God.

Homily for Tuesday, 30 June 2015‒ Mass of the Holy Spirit

Tuesday of the 13th Week in Ordinary Time

This homily was given during a votive Mass of the Holy Spirit celebrated with faith formation and youth ministry leaders of the Diocese of Rochester at St. Bernard's School of Theology and Ministry, Rochester, NY.

Readings of the day: Isaiah 11:1-3a; Psalm 104:1, 24, 29-30, 31, 34; 1 Corinthians 12:3b-7, 12-13; Luke 4:16-21

My sisters and brothers, I feel humbled to celebrate with you, faith formation and youth ministry leaders of this Diocese of Rochester, this Mass of the Holy Spirit. Have any of us ever experienced how the Holy Spirit is beyond our words; concepts; images? We are in danger of limiting the Holy Spirit; limiting God if we try to describe the Holy Spirit by our words, concepts, and images.

And yet we are teachers; we are engaged in faith formation of our young people; sacramental preparation for confirmation. We work and live in a world of words; concepts; images. And so where do we begin in understanding something of the Holy Spirit? Or is not the Holy Spirit somebody, not something, not primarily to be understood but first a personal relationship with God that we experience?

How, then, do we experience the Holy Spirit? How are the youth we form in our parishes; the youth we form for the sacrament of confirmation experience the Holy Spirit? During my years in seminary in Toronto I ministered in children’s sacramental preparation. One of my favorite activities, when speaking of our experience of God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, was to give the children three blank sheets of paper. On one sheet, I would ask them to write or draw the first word or image in their minds when they thought of God the Father, then the same for the Son, and then the same for the Holy Spirit. Each year I received many drawings of an old, wise, and kind-looking man in the clouds to represent God the Father; a young, handsome, bearded man on land to represent the Son (the hippie Jesus?); and doves, wind lines, or occasionally fire to represent the Spirit. One year, when we were discussing our images of the Holy Spirit, one child handed me his still-blank page. “I don’t get it,” the child sighed, frustrated. To this day this child’s blank page is the best response to this activity I have ever seen!

Where do we begin with the Holy Spirit? Our readings today do not help us much. Isaiah speaks of “the Spirit of the LORD” as a series of gifts received by the prophet: Gifts “of wisdom and of understanding… of counsel and of strength… of knowledge and fear of the LORD.” These are the seven spiritual gifts listed in the Rite of Confirmation; the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit received or, perhaps better yet, intensified in us when we receive the sacrament of confirmation.

Like Isaiah, St. Paul understands the Holy Spirit as many “spiritual gifts but the same Spirit.” This is analogous to Paul’s description of our Church, Christ’s Body, as one body “though it has many parts,” or his emphasis on God as one yet inspiring in us “different forms of service”; “different workings,” all given to us “for some benefit”; for our unity as a community of faith. Unlike Isaiah, St. Paul does not even presume to list off individual gifts of God’s Spirit. Again, Paul’s emphasis is on the unity among us wrought by the Holy Spirit: “We were all baptized into one body… and we were all given to drink of one Spirit.”

The Psalmist conceives of God’s Spirit as a force for our renewal. We pray, “Lord, send out your Spirit, and renew the face of the earth.” And the high point of God’s renewal of “the face of the earth” is reached in God’s Son, Jesus Christ. In Luke’s Gospel we hear Jesus, standing before the synagogue crowd in his hometown of Nazareth, and proclaiming anew the words of Isaiah: “The Spirit of the LORD is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring glad tidings to the poor. He has sent me to bring glad tidings to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, and to proclaim a year acceptable to the LORD.”

Who is in need of the Spirit’s renewal today? Of course all of us are. But who are those especially in need of God’s Spirit: “The poor… the blind… the oppressed” among us today? It is no secret that our city; our diocese includes some of the poorest people in our nation. Even in the richest parishes, do we not encounter the materially poor; the unemployed and underemployed; the migrant; the refugee child and family? Have we not already encountered those “oppressed” by the breakdown of marriages and families; children who can become “blind” to God’s love for them by suffering; by experiences we would wish on no child; no person?

These are the people to whom the Lord sends us especially “to proclaim the Good News”: “Today the Scripture is fulfilled in your hearing.” Today God’s Holy Spirit is present among us. Today God’s Holy Spirit calls us to unity in Christ: “Many spiritual gifts” but “one body, one spirit in Christ.”

How do we proclaim this message today to those who are well-off; to those who are in stable households; to those who already have a strong faith; a strong relationship with God, and to those who do not; who are among “the poor,” the “oppressed,” and the “blind”? Today we are this living message. Today we are “the Scripture… fulfilled” in one another’s hearing; one another’s experience. Today we are sent to bear the Holy Spirit to all we meet; all we teach; all whom we form in our faith.

We may from time to time be like the child with a blank sheet of paper: “I don’t get it”! But is the Holy Spirit not less about “getting it” than living it? “The Holy Spirit is upon me.” How deeply do we believe and act by these words of Isaiah; words echoed by our Lord Jesus? If we live by kindness toward those we serve, even in the smallest ways; if we live in a way that seeks out those in special need and seeks to satisfy those needs as we are able; if we are humble enough to learn from those we teach; catechize; form; to place ourselves where they are in their experience of our faith, then we will know the Spirit more deeply than we could ever express in words or images.

We will then be able to say after our Lord: “The Spirit of the LORD” is upon me… Today this Scripture… is fulfilled in [our] hearing.” Today we are in relationship with our God of loving service as faith formators. Today God’s Holy Spirit dwells among us and is at work through us in the renewal of “the face of the earth.”

Homily for Monday, 29 June 2015‒ Solemnity of Sts. Peter and Paul

Monday of the 13th Week in Ordinary Time

Readings of the day: Acts 12:1-11; Psalm 24:2-3, 4-5, 6-7, 8-9; 2 Timothy 4:6-8, 17-18; Matthew 16:13-18

“Upon this rock I will build my Church, and the gates of the netherworld shall not prevail against it.” What do these words, first spoken by Jesus to St. Peter, mean for us today?

We live in a world of many crises, far from and near to us. Within the past week terrorist attacks have taken place in Kuwait, in Tunisia, and in France. Racism still rears its head in these United States. It has been exposed by the killing of nine people in a church in Charleston, South Carolina, and the role the Confederate flag may have as a symbol of racial hatred. We have heard this past weekend of the killing of one escaped convict and the capture of another here in New York State after a long manhunt. And with the recent Supreme Court ruling our country is once again deeply polarized over the meaning of marriage. Many, particularly some in leadership positions in the Church, have offered reasoned and nuanced reflection on this issue. I find this encouraging. But still many have forgotten due charity toward one another, especially those with whom we disagree. Many have forgotten the primacy of human dignity and Jesus’ teachings on love of God and neighbor; are in danger of forgetting Jesus’ words to Peter: “The gates of the netherworld” will not prevail against this community of faith, the Church, that Christ has instituted and safeguarded with its teaching tradition handed on from the Apostles.

“Upon this rock I will build my Church, and the gates of the netherworld shall not prevail against it.” Jesus first spoke these words to Peter in a time of crisis. Jesus went with his disciples “into the region of Caesarea Philippi.” Caesarea Philippi was built as a monument to Caesar and his puppet ruler in Israel at the time, Philip the Tetrarch, descendant of Herod. A cave outside of Caesarea Philippi is known as “the gates of the netherworld.” Animals would be thrown into this cave (a kind of magic ritual) by pagan believers to make peace with their gods. If the animal did not emerge from the other end of the cave, it meant the pagan gods were satisfied; Hades was kept at bay.

Jesus says here that these pagan rituals were useless; that our God is not an angry God placated by sacrifice but a God of mercy who sacrifices his Son out of love for us. And we as Church can have confidence in our God of love and the Church Christ has founded.

All the crises of St. Peter’s and St. Paul’s time, even death for their faith; our faith did “not prevail” against this Church. All the crises present and future will “not prevail” against us, either. How deep is our confidence; our trust in these words of Jesus? Jesus invites us to trust; to hold fast to truths handed on from the Apostles; to “run the race” and keep “the faith” as St. Paul did; to confess and live as St. Peter did that Jesus is “the Christ, the Son of the living God.”

Jesus invites us to go out into our world with confidence: “Upon this rock I will build my Church, and the gates of the netherworld shall not prevail against it.”

Homily for Saturday, 27 June 2015– Memorial of St. Cyril of Alexandria

Optional Memorial: Our Lady's Saturday

Saturday of the 12th Week in Ordinary Time

Readings of the day: Genesis 18:1-15; Responsorial Canticle: Luke 1:46-47. 48-49, 50, 53, 54-55; Matthew 8:15-17

Have you ever heard somebody laugh or be joyful when laughter or joy is unexpected? Or have you laughed or been joyful yourself in an unexpected situation? I can think of many situations in ministry when I have encountered joy and even laughter when it has been unexpected: Amid severe illness or that of a loved one, or when people share with me joyful moments they had with their loved ones who have recently passed away.

We know the healing effects laughter; a joyful spirit; smiling can have, even when we are not feeling very joyful: Relaxation; reduced heart rate and blood pressure, and so on… And laughter and joy have their place in our Scriptures.

Sarah despairs of ever conceiving a child with Abraham, despite God’s repeated promises to them of descendants. Who could blame Sarah for some despair? And so, in her despair (and with it some disbelief), Sarah laughs... at God. When I hear this story, I think of it as Biblical permission to laugh in unexpected, even difficult situations, and even to laugh at God. To laugh at God may not always be inappropriate or irreverent.

Here, God seems to reward Sarah and Abraham for finding comic relief at God’s expense. Of course, God returns Sarah’s humor even as God keeps his promise to grant her and Abraham a child. This child is named Isaac, Hebrew for “he laughs.” And so God gets the last laugh at Sarah and Abraham!

Sarah tries to deny her laughter at God today, but later in the Book of Genesis she will look back on her longing for a child with gratitude for her son Isaac, “he laughs.” “God has given me cause to laugh,” Sarah will say, “and all who hear it will laugh with me.”

The situation in our Gospel reading at first seems to be no laughing matter. A Roman centurion approaches Jesus and says, “Lord, my servant is lying at home paralyzed, suffering dreadfully.” Jesus immediately promises, and delivers on his promise, to heal the centurion’s servant: “I will come and cure him.” But before this Jesus greatly praises the centurion’s faith, which is greater than anybody “in Israel”; the centurion’s faith we echo every time we celebrate our Eucharist: “Lord, I am not worthy to have you enter under my roof. Only say the word and my servant shall be healed.”

What is so great about the centurion’s faith? Could it be his humility; his feeling of unworthiness to have the Lord “enter under” his “roof”? Could it have been his trust that Jesus could cure his beloved servant, even though the centurion was not of Jesus’ Jewish faith? Could it have been the centurion’s joyful spirit, even in the face of his servant’s illness? Could it have been all of the above?

Imagine the centurion’s joy, even though Matthew’s Gospel says nothing about how the centurion responded to Jesus’ healing of his beloved servant! The centurion’s hidden joy and Sarah’s open laughter invite us to the same joy; the same humble yet joyful faith. Our faith leaves us ample room for humor. I believe humor is even essential to a healthy life of faith. And sometimes, even amid the unexpected; even difficult situations, our faith leaves us room to laugh, even at God!