Homily for Friday, 29 August 2014– Memorial of the Passion of St. John the Baptist

Friday of the 21st week in Ordinary Time 

Readings of the day: 1 Corinthians 1:17-25; Psalm 33:1-2, 4-5, 10-11; Mark 6:17-29

What do we make of this seemingly macabre memorial of the Passion of St. John the Baptist today?

The readings we hear today are curious. We pray in response to our Psalm, “The earth is full of the goodness of the Lord.” But then St. Paul opens his first letter to the Corinthians with a challenge to the people of Corinth of his time and to us. St. Paul writes that “Jews demand signs and Greeks look for wisdom, but we proclaim Christ crucified.” Paul knows that his message will be widely rejected as “stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles,” but he proclaims it anyway.

First, how many of us have asked God, perhaps in prayer, for some kind of consolation; some sign of God’s presence and goodness? Second, does it not seem to trivialize evil and suffering in our world to pray, in spite of this evil and suffering, in the words of our Psalm: “The earth is full of the goodness of the Lord”?

We pray in thanksgiving that “the earth is full of the goodness of the Lord.” And yet we, as Christians, are baptized into the vocation to “preach Christ crucified”; to recognize and to mourn the persecution of many because of their faith that continues and has become more frequent now than at any time previously in our Church’s history. We, like St. Paul, “preach Christ crucified.” We remember and celebrate today the martyrdom of St. John the Baptist. We acknowledge that “the blood of martyrs is the seed of the Church.” We call the day on which Christ died for us “Good Friday.” Surely this is “foolishness” and “weakness” in our time just as it was in St. Paul’s time, so why do we as Church mark martyrdom; death; suffering with a feast day such as the one today?

Without trivializing suffering and death, especially martyrdom, and without offering any easy but empty answers, do not we and the Church believe in the death of Christ as the focal point of our faith? In Christ’s death, “Good Friday,” is our salvation; our promise that, as we pray beautifully during funeral Masses, “life is changed, not ended” when we follow Christ into death. The death of all who have lived in and for Christ; the death of martyrs like John the Baptist; the death of those who have given their lives freely for their faith; the death of each and every one of us is and will be a witness to our hope in the resurrection to follow: A change, not an end.

Surely the realities of suffering and death are weakness; foolishness; like “a stumbling block” to many people in our day, as they were in the time of St. Paul or St. John the Baptist or Jesus himself. But because we hope in the resurrection; in the salvation we have been promised, we as Christians “preach Christ crucified.” We bear witness with St. John the Baptist, with St. Paul and with all the martyrs and saints to the “the goodness of the Lord” shown us in Christ’s death and resurrection. We bear witness to Christian hope that death is not our end. We bear witness to our salvation.

Homily for Thursday, 28 August 2014– Memorial of St. Augustine

Thursday of the 21st Week in Ordinary Time

Readings of the day: 1 Corinthians 1:1-9; Psalm 145:2-3, 4-5, 6-7; Matthew 24:42-51 

What is the good news for today? The good news is that “at an hour [we] do not expect, the Son of Man,” Jesus Christ, “will come” again in glory. The bad news is that “at an hour [we] do not expect, the Son of Man will come.” Perhaps, though, this is only bad news if we think of it as bad news.

But what if I am not one of the “faithful and prudent” servants of whom Jesus speaks in our Gospel reading, at least to God’s satisfaction to gain entry into the Kingdom of heaven? What if I am not as “awake” as Jesus asks us to be in our Gospel reading? All of us have fallen short. All of us have sinned. Some of us might have fallen, even without thinking, into the complacency of the servant who says, “My master is long delayed.”

Yes, “at an hour [we] do not expect, the Son of Man will come.” This may scare some of us. But the good news is that, while we await the definitive second coming of Jesus Christ at the end of time, the Kingdom of God is already here. However, God’s Kingdom is already here in ways we may not expect. God’s Kingdom is among us in our spiritual and other gifts as individuals and as a community of faith. God’s Kingdom is among us in our worship; in our works of kindness and mercy toward one another; in our desire to repent when we have sinned.

Unless we have completely denied the “grace… and peace” of God, that is, the Kingdom of God among us, I believe that we can greet the news that Jesus Christ will return at the end of time, even if “at an hour [we] do not expect,” as good news. I think I can say boldly that none of us here has denied or will ever deny that God’s Kingdom is present among us here; now; forever.

Today we celebrate the feast day of St. Augustine, one of the Church’s most famous sinners. Nevertheless, even in the depth of his sin; his complacency that once led him to “pray” to God, “Grant me chastity and continence, but not yet,” Augustine still searched for truth; still searched for God. St. Augustine writes beautifully of God in his Confessions: “Late have I loved you, O Beauty ever ancient, ever new… You were within me, and it was there that I searched for you… You were with me, but I was not with you.”

God met Augustine where he was, as a sinner; as a searcher, and then transformed Augustine from one who looked on God and the unexpected coming of God’s Kingdom “with love” but also “with dread” into one who greeted the presence of God’s Kingdom as good news and with the desire for more of God and God’s Kingdom.

What, then, is our good news for today? Perhaps we can make St. Augustine’s prayer our own as we experience God’s kingdom; the good news among us here and now: God, “you breathed your fragrance on me. I drew in breath and now I pant for you. I have tasted you, and now I hunger and thirst for more. You touched me and I burned for your peace.”

 

Homily for Wednesday, 27 August 2014– Memorial of St. Monica

Wednesday of the 21st Week in Ordinary Time

Readings of the day: 2 Thessalonians 3:6-10, 16-18; Psalm 128:1-2, 4-5; Matthew 23:27-32 

Mothers, grandmothers, and great-grandmothers among us: How many of you worry about your children; grandchildren; great-grandchildren, especially if they are not living and practicing their faith regularly or, in the words of St. Paul, perhaps living in some “disorderly” or immoral way? It can be deeply distressing, especially for mothers (for fathers, too) when children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren seem to drift farther away from religious practice or be living in an increasingly “disorderly” or relativistic way in which the very sense of right and wrong seems to be dissipating.

For those feeling this kind of distress, Monica may be a good saint to whom to pray. St. Monica is the mother of St. Augustine, who lived in many ways a “disorderly” life before his conversion to Christianity.

I find it curious that, in our first reading today, St. Paul ends his second letter to the Thessalonians by advising the Thessalonians to “shun any brother” or sister “who lives in a disorderly way.” St. Augustine was the poster boy for disorderly living before he became a Christian in response to his mother Monica’s dying wish.

If St. Monica had followed St. Paul’s advice literally and shunned her “disorderly” son, the Church would not have gained in St. Augustine one of the greatest minds and most influential and sometimes troublesome figures it has ever known. Instead, St. Monica was for St. Augustine and is for us an example of patience. She is an example of allowing her life of faith to speak, for the most part silently; prayerfully; sometimes through tears for her son.

I do not wish to criticize St. Paul who, in his letters to the Thessalonians, was responding to a different disorder in that community than Monica was with Augustine. Some in Thessalonica in St. Paul’s time were taking advantage of the Christian community. They reaped its spiritual benefits and hospitality without supporting it by their work and wealth.

The example of St. Monica toward St. Augustine and for us may be closer to the kind of faith Jesus urges of the scribes and Pharisees in our Gospel reading today: One that is patient; that is not too quick to criticize or to condemn; that is not hypocritical; that is lived more by silent witness than by loud and visible legalism that can stifle the prophets of our faith whose message challenges us.

There is a fine line between the silent witness to faith that is St. Monica’s example to us and the need to hold one another to account, perhaps vocally as in the case of St. Paul or even Jesus to the scribes and Pharisees. The appropriate approach to a particular situation, whether silence, calm, and prayer, or a more vocal admonishment of those living in “a disorderly way,” is for us to discern prayerfully. We have the example of St. Monica, along with St. Paul and our Lord Jesus in today’s readings, to help us in this discernment through prayer.   

Homélie du lundi, 25 août 2014– Mémoire de Saint Louis IX

Lundi de la 21ième semaine en temps ordinaire. Monday of the 21st Week in Ordinary Time

Lectures du jour: 2 Thessaloniciens 1:1-5, 11-12; Psaume 96:1-2a, 2b-3, 4-5; Matthieu 23:13-22
 
Readings of the day: 2 Thessalonians 1:1-5, 11-12; Psalm 96:1-2a, 2b-3, 4-5; Matthew 23:13-22
 
Cette homélie a été donnée au Pavillon Saint-Joseph, l'infirmerie des Soeurs de Sainte-Croix à Saint-Laurent, QC, Canada. P. Denis Marchand, CSC, l'aumônier du Pavillon Saint-Joseph, a concélébré cette Messe, à laquelle plusieures Soeurs de Sainte-Croix venant de territoires missionaires, ainsi que des religieuses d'autres congrégations ont assisté.

This homily was given at Pavillon Saint-Joseph, the infirmary of the Sisters of Holy Cross at Saint-Laurent, QC, Canada. Fr. Denis Marchand, CSC, Chaplain of Pavillon Saint-Joseph, concelebrated this Mass. Many Sisters Holy Cross from mission territories, as well as religious from other congregations, also participated in this Eucharistic celebration.

Remarquons-nous que les lectures que nous entendons aujourd’hui de la seconde lettre de Saint Paul aux Thessaloniciens et de l’Évangile selon Saint Matthieu nous présentent deux messages opposés l’un de l’autre?

Saint Paul encourage la communauté chrétienne naissante de Thessalonique, actuellement en Macédoine et donc également loin des plus grandes et influentes communautés chrétiennes de ce temps, peut-être vingt ans après la mort et résurrection du Christ: Jérusalem; Rome; Antioche en Syrie. Les chrétiens de Thessalonique restent fidèles a Jésus malgré cette distance d’autres communautés chrétiennes; malgré la persécution; malgré d’autres souffrances. Donc Saint Paul leur écrit affectueusement: «À tout instant nous devons rendre grâce à Dieu à cause de vous».

Par contre, Jésus gronde les scribes et les pharisiens pour leur direction maladroite du peuple juif. «Malheureux êtes-vous… hypocrites», Jésus leur dit, «guides insensés et aveugles»!

Je viens célébrer avec vous cette Messe d’aujourd’hui avec l’affection de Saint Paul pour les Thessaloniciens et non avec la sévérité de Jésus contre les «scribes et pharisiens» (bien que les scribes et les pharisiens ont mérité sans doute la remontrance de Jésus). Ne vous inquiétez pas alors! Je viens parmi vous résonnant le message de Saint Paul: «À tout instant nous devons rendre grâce à Dieu à cause de vous».

Nous recevons parmi nous des Sœurs de Sainte-Croix. Nous recevons ici la communauté du Pavillon Saint-Joseph, y inclus des religieuses de plusieurs congrégations. Nous recevons en cette célébration Eucharistique des religieuses qui viennent de territoires missionnaires. Nous recevons ici des visiteurs. Nous avons ici votre aumônier, le Père Denis Marchand, qui reçoit gracieusement ce petit-neveu de la Sœur Jeanne d’Arc Brunelle de votre communauté. Merci de votre accueil de votre humble serviteur de Dieu, prêtre de la Congrégation de Saint Basile ordonné depuis le 10 mai. Je me rappelle avec grande joie que c’est ici au Pavillon Saint-Joseph où j’ai servi comme diacre en septembre passé et j’ai donné ma première homélie après mon ordination diaconale. Donc avec les paroles de Saint Paul aux Thessaloniciens, je rends moi aussi «à tout instant… grâce à Dieu à cause de vous». Je prie en action de grâce à Dieu pour vous et «à cause de vous», mes sœurs et frères en Jésus Christ.

Je crois que ces paroles s’appliquent bien à vous, en plus parce que plusieurs d’entre vous ont vécu des souffrances de même que les Thessaloniciens à l’époque de Saint Paul. Nous n’avons peut-être pas été persécutés de la même manière qu’ont été les premiers Chrétiens, mais plusieurs rassemblés ici vivent des difficultés de santé ou sont d’un âge avancé; se sentent peut-être isolés ou tristes de temps en temps. Plusieurs d’entre vous sont missionnaires qui affrontent avec courage profond les dangers liés à cette vocation.

Many of us here know or have known suffering of the kind acknowledged by St. Paul in his second letter to the Thessalonians, whether it is due to advanced age; perhaps feelings of isolation or sadness from time to time, or the dangers of missionary ministry that many of you undertake with profound courage. This suffering, and yet this joy in your vocation and your “love… for one another” that I feel around and deep within me every time I visit here at Pavillon Saint-Joseph, is the kind of experience that St. Paul recognizes as “evidence of the just judgment of God, so that you may be considered worthy of the Kingdom of God.”

May God bless you for your witness to our faith in Jesus Christ! Yours is a witness that sustains vocations: to the religious life and priesthood; to the Christian way of life we all begin by our baptism. Your witness to our faith sustains and encourages me in my vocation as a religious and priest, as I keep you in prayer constantly.

If I may allow myself to boast of anything, I express my boast in your life of faith, my dear sisters and brothers in Christ, in the words of St. Paul: I boast of you “in the Churches of God.” Where I minister at St. Kateri Parish in Rochester, New York, and beyond, I often recall with fondness my visits here to Pavillon Saint-Joseph: your kindness; your love for one another; your joy amid significant challenges and even suffering. Without doubt, from here vocations have been inspired and sustained; vocations to “proclaim God’s marvellous deeds” within these walls and indeed “to all the nations,” as we pray in our Responsorial Psalm.

Si je peux me permettre un peu d’orgueil, ce serait en votre témoignage de notre foi, sœurs et frères en Jésus Christ. C’est mon «orgueil» qui s’exprime, en les paroles de Saint-Paul, «au milieu des Églises de Dieu», d’ici jusqu’à ma paroisse à Rochester (New York), Saint Kateri et encore plus loin. Partout et souvent, je me rappelle affectueusement de mes visites ici au Pavillon Saint-Joseph: de votre bonté; de votre amour les uns pour les autres; de votre joie malgré des défis importants et même des souffrances. Ici vous vivez; ici vous témoignez notre foi de manière qui sans doute inspire et soutient des vocations. Ensemble, commençant ici, nous allons nous soutenir en notre vocation commune, dans les paroles de notre Psaume, de «dire au monde entier les merveilles de Dieu»!

«À tout instant nous devons rendre grâce à Dieu à cause de vous». Empruntant encore les paroles de Saint Paul de notre première lecture, je vous salue: «Que la grâce et la paix soient avec vous de la part de Dieu le Père et du Seigneur Jésus Christ… Ainsi notre Seigneur aura sa gloire en vous et vous en lui».

«À tout instant» rendons grâce a Dieu pour vous alors, sœurs et frères en Jésus Christ. Merci de votre foi; votre amour; votre joie; votre inspiration; votre témoignage du Christ. Que Dieu soit glorifié et que Dieu vous bénisse.

Homily for Sunday, 24 August 2014

21st Sunday in Ordinary Time

Readings of the day: Isaiah 22:19-23; Psalm 128:1-2, 2-3, 6, 8; Romans 11:33-36; Matthew 16:13-20

This homily was given at Anglin House at the Cardinal Flahiff Basilian Centre, Toronto, ON, Canada. Many thanks and blessings to the women religious and to my Basilian confrères of the Cardinal Flahiff Centre who took part in this celebration of Sunday Mass.

“Who do people say the Son of Man is”? And then “who do you say that I am”? These are questions about identity. To understand just how significant Jesus’ questions about identity, his and ours, were when he first asked them of his disciples, it may help us to understand the geographical setting of the Gospel reading we hear today.

Let us place ourselves in Caesarea Philippi, about twenty miles north of the Sea of Galilee. Caesarea Philippi had been the pagan town of Paneas, named for the Greek god Pan. Philip the Tetrarch, son of Herod the Great who ruled this region on behalf of Rome in Jesus’ time, rebuilt Paneas and renamed it for Caesar Tiberius, hence Caesarea Philippi.

This region gives context to several of the pagan references in our Gospel reading. Peter answers Jesus’ question about his identity: “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.” Of course, Peter is correct. And yet the Roman emperors were often referred to as “sons of God.” But Jesus is greater than any emperor on earth; not merely the son of Jupiter or any other Roman deity but Son of the one God; “of the living God”; our God.

Jesus blesses Peter with the keys, a sign of authority in pagan societies of the time. However, Peter did not earn this authority as an emperor might have. Authority is given him by “the Son of the living God”; given him by Jesus Christ. Peter is now no ordinary authority with just any keys; he is made under Christ’s authority a “son of the living God.”

“On this rock I will build my Church, and the gates of Hades shall not prevail against it,” Jesus says to Peter. The “rock” and “the gates of Hades” may have referred to a cave in a rock near Caesarea Philippi that pagans understood to be an entrance to “Hades”; the netherworld; the home of the dead or simply a metaphor for the wild and unknown, of which Pan was god in Greek mythology.

Again, Peter is given great authority as leader of the community of Christian disciples, the Church. But this authority; Peter’s new identity as a “son of the living God” is not from him. It is from God through Christ and is only effective in service to the community; the Church. Not the pagan gods, not Peter by his own efforts, but the Church in Christ will prevail even over death itself.

And so here, in the pagan context of Caesarea Philippi, we hear in today’s Gospel several great statements of identity: Christ’s identity; Peter’s identity; but also our identity.

Who were people in Jesus’ time expecting him to be? Perhaps even the Jewish people who believed that Jesus was the Messiah were expecting their Messiah to be a great prophet after Jeremiah or Elijah, or a fire-and-brimstone preacher of the need for repentance after John the Baptist, or the one to overthrow the oppressive Roman regime. Perhaps, if the non-Jews near Caesarea Philippi were encountering Jesus, they may have thought him to be a kind of god, like Pan, who kept the wild; the unknown; “Hades” at bay.

“But who do you say that I am?” Jesus asks his disciples. For a moment, when it matters most, Peter gets it right: “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.” Peter is not only correct as to the identity of Jesus, but he is correct as to his own identity and also our identity.

What do I mean by this? If someone were to ask us, “Who do you say that you are?” would we be bold enough to answer, “I am a son or daughter of the living God”? This is who we are!

But would we not more typically answer the question of our identity; of who we are most fundamentally with responses such as: “I am a Basilian. I am a Catholic priest. I am a Loretto Sister. I have been professed or ordained for x number of years. I am a scholar. I have been involved in high school or university education or administration. I am retired,” and so forth…

All these answers to the question of our identity are true. But if we were to answer the questions, “Who do you say that you are; who do you say that I am,” with “We are sons and daughters of the living God,” would not some think our response to be somewhat triumphalistic? And yet if, at our core, we identify ourselves as any less than sons and daughters “of the living God,” we are selling our God-given human dignity, the dignity and identity given us by our Christian baptism, short.

We are sons and daughters “of the living God.” This is only triumphalistic, a statement of misplaced pride, if we believe that our being Christian; our living up to our identity as sons and daughters “of the living God” is a solo effort. It is not. We are sons and daughters “of the living God” in community; as Church. Our religious community life is a sign of this broader community of sons and daughters “of the living God, the Church. Peter did not make his confession of faith alone; he did not identify Jesus as “the Messiah, the son of the living God” alone and by his own strength, but with God’s grace and with the support of the community of disciples.

And so the authority; the blessing Jesus gives Peter is not to him alone. It is the authority and blessing given to the Church; to the community of disciples whose identity we share with the earliest Christian disciples and with all Christians from all the ages, on earth and in heaven. And so we are blessed with this identity; blessed with this authority from “the Messiah, the Son of the living God” whom we confess in faith.

“Flesh and blood has not revealed this to [us], but [our] Father in heaven… The gates of Hades shall not prevail against” Christ’s Church; against us, Christ’s community of sons and daughters “of the living God.”