Homily for Thursday, 28 May 2015– Ferial

Thursday of the 8th week in Ordinary Time

Readings of the day: Sirach 42:15-25; Psalm 33:2-3, 4-5, 6-7, 8-9; Mark 10:46-52

Have you ever, for a few moments, delighted in God’s creation? Have you marveled at the immensity of the universe or been amazed at the diversity and intricacy of the smallest creatures we know?

Sirach understands something of God’s wisdom; God’s glory when he sees God’s creation. Our first reading, from Sirach, is a hymn of praise for the beauty of God’s creation; an appreciation of the wisdom and greatness of the Creator. “Now will I recall God’s works,” Sirach begins, “At God’s word were his works brought into being; they do his will as he has ordained for them.”

But soon Sirach is at a loss to praise God for God’s creation because it is so splendid. “Even God’s holy ones must fail in recounting the wonders of the LORD,” Sirach acknowledges! Our creator God “plumbs the depths and penetrates the heart.” God lacks “no understanding”; no wisdom. And so we, like Sirach, are reduced to awe and wonder. Sirach asks, “Can one ever see enough of [the] splendor” of God’s creation? Even from the small amount of God’s creation that we see, can we not understand something of the greatness of God by sensing God’s creation?

And yet some do not easily experience the greatness of God’s creation. This is the experience of the blind Bartimaeus in our Gospel reading today from Mark. We cannot know the kind of “blindness” that afflicted Bartimaeus, whether it was literal inability to see or some other physical illness, or whether he was blinded spiritually; blinded by sin. Whatever Bartimaeus’ kind of blindness, it does not stop him. Bartimaeus has the faith and confidence to approach Jesus and ask him: “Master, I want to see.”

The blind Bartimaeus never despairs of God’s healing; of the mercy of the same God who created the universe and everything in it and sustains this creation. Bartimaeus trusts that Jesus will restore his sight so that he can sense the wonders of God’s creation more fully and give thanks to them by a life of following Jesus.

“Master, I want to see.” What if this were all we wanted of God, so to give praise to God for God’s creation? We trust in God, I am confident. We trust and show awe and reverence to our Creator God; to our God of mercy especially when our sins and failings are keeping us from experiencing God’s goodness even more deeply. We are here because we trust in God who gives himself in our Eucharist.

But what if we were to purify this trust; this desire to “see” and experience God, even more? What if, by God’s grace, we did not complain as much about small afflictions (I can be bad for this)? What if our prayer were more like that of the blind Bartimaeus: “Master, I want to see.”

Master, I want to give thanks more and more for the splendor of your creation. Master, for the times I have sinned I am sorry; “I want to” experience your mercy; I never despair of your mercy. I know that, this side of eternal life, we will never fully understand your greatness and the greatness of creation. But let us experience more of it to give you fitting praise. “Master, I want to see.”

Homily for Wednesday, 27 May 2015– Ferial

Wednesday of the 8th week in Ordinary Time

Readings of the day: Sirach 36:1, 4-5a, 10-17; Psalm 79:8, 9, 11, 13; Mark 10:32-45

This homily was given at Bethany House, a shelter for homeless women and children and a ministry of the Sisters of St. Joseph in Rochester, NY.

Have any of us ever loved in a way that defies logic; understanding; explanation? Have we ever loved somebody so deeply and yet said or done something, maybe even well-meaning, at the wrong place or the wrong time?

This, I think, is the experience of Jesus’ Apostles James and John in our Gospel reading today. It is clear from Mark’s Gospel that Jesus’ disciples love him. But they become especially confused in their love for Jesus as Jesus is about to complete his journey to Jerusalem. Today’s Gospel reading describes Jesus’ disciples as both “amazed” and “afraid.”

What were the disciples thinking and feeling as Jesus neared Jerusalem? Perhaps they were “amazed” at his teaching; his works of mercy; of healing; his miracles that they had witnessed while accompanying Jesus in his public life. But might they have asked themselves, “What good will our Lord’s going to Jerusalem bring? We believe he is our hoped-for Messiah. We love him. He has many friends, but also many enemies. Will his life be in danger in Jerusalem?”

And then Jesus confirms the worst fears of his disciples: In Jerusalem he will be mocked, spit upon, scourged, and put to death. It is no wonder that Jesus’ disciples are “afraid”! In their fear the Apostles James and John make a request of Jesus that, on the one hand, sounds extremely self- serving. “Grant that in your glory we may sit one at your right and the other at your left,” James and John ask Jesus. On the other hand, we could understand James’ and John’s request for a share in Jesus’ glory as well-meaning. James and John love Jesus. They have been with him throughout his public life and ministry. They are now faced with the prospect of his death in Jerusalem. Their request for a share in Jesus’ heavenly glory, then, is borne out of fear and confusion. Might they be speaking the words that Jesus’ other disciples are all feeling? They are “amazed” and yet “afraid.”

Jesus recognizes that his disciples love him and one another. He corrects James and John, and any disciple who sees in following Jesus an opportunity for personal glory or power over others. “You know that” the “rulers over the Gentiles lord it over them… But it shall not be so among you,” Jesus says to his disciples.

But even this correction is gentle. By it Jesus refines the love his disciples have for him and one another. Their love has one well-meaning goal: A share in Jesus’ own eternal glory. But their love; our love is in need of refinement to accept a share in Jesus’ cross if we are to have a share in his resurrection.

I have confidence that we, like Jesus’ first disciples, love Jesus and one another. And yet are we willing to accept in faith Jesus’ refinement of our love so that our love continues to grow, to be ever more other-serving and God-serving than self-serving; to accept our both share in Christ’s suffering; his cross and in his resurrection; his glory that we are promised? If we are willing to accept this and to pray for this, then Jesus will purify; perfect our love for him and for one another in the way he did for and with his first disciples.

Homily for Tuesday, 26 May 2015– Memorial of St. Philip Neri

Tuesday of the 8th Week in Ordinary Time

Readings of the day: Acts 22:30, 23:6-11; Psalm 60:1-2a, 5, 7-8, 9-10, 11; John 17:20-26

After hearing our Gospel reading today, do any of us feel a bit sorry for Jesus’ disciples? Peter, discouraged, says to Jesus: “We have given up everything and followed you.”

What precedes Peter’s discouragement? Our Gospel reading today, I think, requires some context for us to understand Peter’s reaction and then Jesus’ reply to Peter: “Amen, I say to you, there is no one who has given up” everything for me and for “the Gospel who will not receive a hundred times more.”

Jesus has encountered a rich young man in Mark’s Gospel just before the reading we hear today. How well do we remember this conversation between the rich young man and Jesus? The rich young man asks Jesus how he might enter eternal life. After all, he has “observed all” God’s commandments “from [his] youth.” Still, Jesus sends him away sad, saying, “You are lacking in one thing. Go, sell what you have and give to the poor… Then come, follow me.”

Jesus does not turn the rich young man away primarily because of his excess wealth. But he lacks something more critical to his salvation than literally giving away his material possessions. What does the rich young man lack? What do Peter and the other disciples also lack? The rich young man, like Peter and the other disciples in today’s Gospel and like us, follow God’s law as faithfully as we can. We are here at Mass earlier than most people are awake, many of us daily. And then so many of us here at St. Kateri go forth from worship here to serve our communities our families by wonderful works of mercy; kindness; generosity of all kinds. I am almost sure that this is all God can ask of us!

Our first reading, from the Book of Sirach, praises people who “keep the law”; the commandments of God. To those who obey God’s commandments, Sirach says, “the LORD will give back… sevenfold.” And our Psalm assures us: “To the upright I will show the saving power of God.” And so to obey God’s law; God’s commandments is excellent and a significant starting point toward eternal life.

But there is more to entering eternal life than following a set of commandments. But what? How many of us know somebody who is almost obsessive about following rules perfectly? This kind of obsession can destroy a person spiritually and perhaps physically and mentally.

God invites us to obey his commandments. And yet, more importantly, God asks us to live God’s law with joy and perhaps a sense of humor. St. Philip Neri, whose feast we celebrate today, is known as a patron saint of humor, which he often directed at himself. A man once asked St. Philip Neri if, as a penance, he should wear a hair shirt. St. Philip allowed him to wear the hair shirt, if only outside his other clothing!

St. Philip Neri shows in episodes like this how to be obedient to God’s law with joy and humor. His example is an echo of the central point of our readings today: Live God’s law; the Gospel of Jesus Christ, not with obsessive perfectionism but with joy, and this will bring us to eternal life.

Homily for Sunday, 24 May 2015‒ Pentecost

Mass during the Day

Readings of the day: Acts 2:1-11; Psalm 104:1, 24, 29-30, 31, 34; 1 Corinthians 12:3b-7, 12-13; Pentecost Sequence; John 20:19-23

Imagine for a moment that you are in your favorite place in the world. What is this place? Is it your favorite vacation destination, perhaps one of the world’s great cities; a remote place to enjoy nature; a beach in the tropics? Is your favorite place somewhere you enjoy spending a day off work? Is it a place to be still; to encounter God in prayer; perhaps in silence; perhaps at Mass? Are you with somebody or alone?

I feel blessed to have many favorite places all over the world. I have encountered God in prayer; in the Eucharist everywhere from here at St. Kateri to the parishes in which I grew up, St. Theresa’s and Our Lady of Perpetual Help in Edmonton; to Notre Dame and Saint-Sulpice in Paris, to the chaotic Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem and the calm of the shore of the Sea of Galilee, where Jesus once walked; to St. Patrick’s in busy New York City; to my highlights in Colombia in South America: At twelve thousand feet above sea level, Monserrate in Bogotá, for instance. This is one of the only churches of which I can think where the congregation remains standing during Mass, barely even able to turn, because of the number of people present!

Last week I enjoyed my parents’ visit here to Rochester; to St. Kateri. We visited places like the Corning Museum of Glass; wineries and breweries in the Finger Lakes, Sodus Point and El Rincón Mexicano, a favorite Mexican restaurant in Sodus to which Fr. Paul introduced me; Chimney Bluffs…  These are only a few of my favorite places near here to spend a day off; to eat; to learn; to enjoy nature. But it was particularly wonderful to be with people I love;  to be with Mom and Dad to enjoy some of my favorite places in New York State (and some places where I had never been before) during the week they were here.

Is there not something special about being together in one place with people you love; with family; with friends? This is the experience of Jesus’ disciples on Pentecost. We hear in our first reading from Acts that “they were all in one place together” when the Holy Spirit descended upon them. For Jesus’ first disciples, this is the necessary condition to receive God’s gift of the Holy Spirit. Their unity “in one place together,” in an upper room in Jerusalem, is the required setting for the birth of a community of faith, our Church. But why is this so? If God had so chosen, why could the Holy Spirit not have descended upon each of the disciples individually, alone, instead of descending upon them as a community?

The trouble here is that, unlike when we are enjoying quality time off; a vacation; perhaps peaceful time at prayer, Jesus’ disciples were not gathered in their favorite place in the world. Our Gospel reading today, from John, says that “the doors were locked” to the room “where the disciples were, for fear of” the leaders of “the Jews”; those who had put Jesus, their hoped-for Messiah, to a shameful death on a cross. But it is into this fear that the risen Christ enters and breathes the Holy Spirit upon the disciples as a community: “Peace be with you.” This Pentecost event would not have happened in the same way had the disciples have been scattered, facing their fears alone.

Pentecost, the descent of the Holy Spirit upon Christ’s disciples; the birth of the Church, is not a one-time event. We are reminded of this by today’s readings: The Acts of the Apostles and John’s Gospel speak of two distinct encounters with the Holy Spirit. In Acts the Holy Spirit appears to the disciples in “tongues as of fire”; as “a noise like a strong driving wind.” In John, the risen Christ breathes God’s Holy Spirit upon his disciples: “Peace be with you.”

And Pentecost continues to happen, here and now. The Holy Spirit continues to work; to be present among and within us. How is the Holy Spirit present, working among and within us? Might many of us here now be feeling anything but like you are in your favorite place in the world? For many of us there is no better place to be than here, on a beautiful Sunday morning, celebrating our Eucharist. And yet many more of us bring to this celebration our griefs and sorrows: Personal or loved ones’ illnesses; loss of loved ones; loss of employment or underemployment; struggles with our faith; marriage or family disunity. We bring to this celebration our distractions: Some of us barely awake; others with small children in tow with their own needs; still others finding it difficult to remain focused in prayer… And yet how blessed we are as a community of faith by one another’s presence: Joys, hopes, griefs, distractions and all! Still more of us may be bringing to this Eucharist very real fears: Our fear of death; what will happen after our death and how the people we love will cope; our fear of economic instability; our fears for those we love who have turned away from their faith; our fear for the state of our world, full of hope but with many instances of despair; violence; evil…

Our joys and hopes but also our griefs; our distractions; our fears are similar and every bit as real as those Jesus’ first disciples faced on the first Pentecost when they encountered the Holy Spirit. Some first encountered the Holy Spirit in the stillness of Jesus’ breath, “Peace be with you.” Others encountered the Holy Spirit amid their fear of death at the hands of those who had put Jesus to death. These first disciples encountered the Holy Spirit as they touched the risen Jesus’ wounds, an image of our own woundedness; our own sin; our own need for forgiveness and healing. And they encountered the Holy Spirit as fearsome, rushing wind and “tongues as of fire.”

Our encounters with the Holy Spirit are as varied perhaps as the encounters with the Holy Spirit of Jesus’ first disciples. The gifts we receive from God’s Holy Spirit are as varied as the encounters with the Spirit themselves: “Different kinds of spiritual gifts but the same Spirit,” St. Paul says in 1 Corinthians. But do we not have something else in common with these earliest disciples in how they encountered the Holy Spirit? We, like them, are “all in one place together.”

In this “one place together” our joys and hopes meet their source, our God whom we are united here to worship and to celebrate. Here our diverse “spiritual gifts” are refined; made ready through this celebration to be put to service of the one Body of Christ; one community of faith; one world; one human race. A “body with many parts,” we become, more and more, “one body, one spirit in Christ” in the words of our Eucharistic Prayer that we will hear and pray in a few moments.

In this “one place together” our griefs; our distractions; our fears are transformed by the Holy Spirit. Together we are invited to let our fears that could paralyze us without community; without God’s Holy Spirit be transformed into “fear” in the sense of awe and reverence in God’s presence. This “fear of the Lord”; awe and reverence in God’s presence is the first and greatest of the gifts of the Holy Spirit we all receive in baptism and confirmation.

In this “one place together” is our Pentecost. In this “one place together” we encounter God’s Holy Spirit who strengthens, gifts, unifies, and transforms us. In this “one place together,” my sisters and brothers, Church is born. In the whole world the best place for us to be; the place where God is; the place where we are prepared to serve God as Christian disciples in our world that hungers for God’s Spirit, is right here, in this “one place together.”

Homily for Thursday, 21 May 2015– Thursday of the Seventh Week of Easter

Readings of the day: Acts 22:30, 23:6-11; Psalm 60:1-2a, 5, 7-8, 9-10, 11; John 17:20-26

For what or for whom do we pray most frequently? We have heard of frequently-asked questions. What are our most frequently-prayed prayers?

Do we most often pray in times of sorrow; times of need, or do we find ourselves praying in praise and thanksgiving to God; praying in moments of joy; peace; prosperity? Perhaps we know somebody who is struggling with her or his faith; or has turned away from faith altogether, and we pray for this person. Perhaps some of us are experiencing health difficulties, or we know somebody who is ill in mind, body, or spirit, and so we pray for these people.

These are only a few of the more frequent circumstances, all of them good, in which we may be inspired to pray. Do we pray, maybe often, that we might enter eternal life? I pray this often for myself, but also for the people I love; the people I serve as a baptized Christian and as a priest.

And have we ever asked ourselves: What were Jesus’ most frequent prayers? For what or for whom did Jesus pray most often? Might this be a model for our most frequent prayers?

Our Gospel reading today is drawn from John 17, which is often called Jesus’ “high priestly prayer.” We hear Jesus’ last long prayer, during the Last Supper, before his passion and death on the cross. And yet I hear John 17 as a collection of shorter prayers that Jesus prays for his disciples. For what does Jesus pray for his disciples? Jesus prays to our Father in heaven that we, Jesus’ disciples, “may be one, as” God the Father and Son “are one.” Jesus prays for his disciples “that they may be brought to perfection as one, that the world may know that” the Father has sent him. Jesus prays at length and repeatedly in this Chapter 17 of John for our unity.

For what else does Jesus pray for his disciples? He prays that they may gain eternal life: “I wish that where I am they also may be with me, that they may see my glory that you gave me.”

And I find one of the most beautiful intentions of Jesus’ high-priestly prayer to be when he prays for the people who will believe in him because of the witness of his first disciples. Jesus prays in our Gospel reading today: “I pray not only for these, but also for those who will believe in me through their word.”

How, then, can we make Jesus’ high priestly prayer our own? Jesus gives us his own example of excellent prayers to make into our most frequent prayers: Pray for one another’s unity. Important divisions still exist among Christian churches and traditions, although great strides toward unity have been made, especially in recent years. Pray that all may inherit eternal life. God has created every human being, all of us, out of love. God has created us for himself; for everlasting life. And pray in particular for the quality of our witness to Christ by the way we live, so that still more may be attracted to Christ and to our faith by our words and our works.

Homily for Tuesday, 19 May 2015– Tuesday of the Seventh Week of Easter

Readings of the day: Acts 20:17-27; Psalm 68:10-11, 20-21; John 17:1-11a

How do we know we are in the right vocation? I am asked questions like this regularly, especially around important anniversaries like those of ordination to the priesthood or profession of religious vows: “When did you know for sure you were being called to be a priest”?

I would like to ask all of us the same questions: When did you know you were living the vocation to which God called you, if you have discerned this yet? How do you know you are in the “right” vocation?

Many will say to me how much of a sacrifice the priesthood must be, but is there not as much or more sacrifice in living out the vocation to marriage, in raising children, in living consecrated single life, or in taking religious vows as a sister or brother? And yet there is great joy in all these vocations if this is the vocation to which God is calling or has called you. There is great joy for me; greater than any sacrifice, to being a priest in a religious community.

So again, how might we discern the vocation to which God is calling us? In our readings today, we hear that Jesus’ first Apostles made great sacrifices to follow our Lord. In Acts, St. Paul recognizes that he is at the end of his life; that he may be “going to Jerusalem for the last time, to face death for his faith. St. Paul is also saddened for the people he has served so faithfully; those who will probably never see him again.

And yet Paul is convinced that he has lived the right vocation all along. How does Paul know this? He knows that he is in the vocation to which God has called him because his ministry has never been about him, but the people he serves. Paul says in his parting words to the Christians at Ephesus: “I did not shrink from proclaiming to you the entire plan of God.”

Jesus also knows that he has followed after “the entire plan of God”; he is convinced of the vocation to which God the Father has called him. Jesus prays in John’s Gospel, as he is about to die for us on the cross, “Give glory to your Son… so that your Son may give eternal life to all you gave him.” Jesus’ vocation has never been about him, but so that all whom God has called him; his disciples; we might have “eternal life.”

And Jesus asks, “What is eternal life”? What is the very purpose for God having sent us his Son, Jesus Christ? “This is eternal life,” Jesus says, “That they should know you, the only true God, and the one whom you sent, Jesus Christ.”

This is “eternal life.” This is why God has sent us Jesus Christ, God’s only Son. This is the very mark of our having discerned the vocation to which God has called us. This is how we know we are living the vocation to which God has called us: When our vocation is bringing us closer to God; when our vocation is leading us closer to eternal life; to knowing God; to this ultimate vocation to which we are all called.

Homily for Monday, 18 May 2015– Monday of the Seventh Week of Easter

Readings of the day: Acts 19:1-8; Psalm 68:2-3ab, 4-5acd, 6-7ab; John 16:20-23

How many of us have ever taught? How many of us are parents; grandparents; perhaps great-grandparents, and if so have been teachers in your own right? When teaching children (and sometimes adults), have you ever been in a situation where you did not know where to begin your teaching? How much do the people you are teaching know about the topic at hand?

I imagine St. Paul in our first reading, from Acts, in a situation similar to this. From Corinth he travels to Ephesus, which today is a region in western Turkey. In Paul’s time, imagine a remote area. Some people in Ephesus have heard something of Jesus; believe in him; have heard of the “baptism of repentance” offered by John the Baptist. But they have not had the same opportunities for instruction in their faith that people in larger cities (Corinth, for example) have had.

And so St. Paul encounters these Ephesians and asks them a question: “Did you receive the Holy Spirit when you became believers”? Their answer is not what Paul expects: “We have never even heard that there is a Holy Spirit.” But Paul does not get discouraged by the Ephesians’ answer. He does not judge them. He leads them; teaches them, question to question.

In this way St. Paul discovers that these people of Ephesus have a strong faith, but one that needs refining; instruction through a supportive and universal faith community, the Church. St. Paul discovers that these Ephesians have been baptized “with the baptism of John”; that they already understand something of repentance and the mercy of God in their lives. And St. Paul is able to determine what they will still need and want: Baptism “in the name of the Lord Jesus”; the fullness of the Holy Spirit’s presence through the laying on of hands.

Paul shows himself a great teacher of the faith. And yet he is a great teacher precisely because he is a great learner. Paul learns the needs of the Ephesians; listens to them so that he is able to strengthen the faith they already have.

All of us are called to become teachers of our faith like St. Paul. We do not need to be trained educators; parents; ordained priests; belong to a religious order to teach our faith. But we are all called by God through our Christian baptism first to teach by example: To lead lives marked by kindness; gentleness; mercy. And, like St. Paul, we are invited to listen to one another’s needs; to ask questions and not to become discouraged or even scandalized by unexpected answers: What do you ask of God? What do you ask of the Church? What are some of your joys; your struggles with your faith? We are invited not to judge those of weaker faith; different faith than our own; people of no faith. Listen to them: They, too, have truths to offer us!

St. Paul shows us today that the best teachers, of faith or otherwise, are usually the best learners. And so many we become ever-better learners of our faith; listeners to one another’s joys, sorrows, knowledge, needs. We will be open to the Holy Spirit, who teaches us as we teach and learn from one another.

Homily for Sunday, 17 May 2015– Seventh Sunday of Easter

Readings of the day: Acts 1:15-17, 20a, 20c-26; Psalm 103:1-2, 11-12, 19-20; 1 John 4:11-16; John 17:11b-19

“We have come to know and to believe in the love God has for us,” we hear today from the First Letter of John. Is this not one of the great “starting point” statements of our faith? What is the foundation of our Christian faith; of any faith; the reason why we are here; of why any one of us or anything exists? The foundation of all this is God’s love for us.

“We have come to know and to believe in the love God has for us.” We know and believe as Christians, as one community of faith, that God delights in us. Is it so remarkable for our Scriptures to say that God loves and delights in us precisely because to say this is so problematic?

What do I mean by this? I do not wish to be pessimistic or to discourage us, but I ask: How many of us have experienced divisions and brokenness in our families; our households; our marriages, or knows somebody who has or is experiencing these realities? Many regions of our world know war, extremism, other forms of violence, hunger, and poverty, most often due to the concentration of resources in the hands of a few. But we need not go far to see the greed of a few while large groups of people (sadly still too often set apart by race, in these United States especially) are at a social and economic disadvantage, frequently through little fault of their own. We need not go far, right here in Greater Rochester, to see or hear of violence.

We live in a culture that, on the one hand, is revered for its work ethic and generosity and, on the other hand, is known for increasing division between left and right; between rich and poor; among races. Even in our Church, we see competitiveness over adherence to teachings of the Church, often as we understand them. Those of weaker conscience can find themselves condemned instead of having their conscience strengthened by the support of loved ones and the community of faith, to understand and live by the teachings of our faith more fully. And we know the scandal of division among Christians: Catholics; Protestants; Orthodox.

All these divisions; all this brokenness in our world; among Christians; within our Church even, is because of sin in our world. We know “the love God has for us.” God’s love for us is the reason for our existence; why God has created anything; why God sustains this creation; keeps it and us alive. And we know our freedom to love God and one another as God loves us, or to misuse our freedom and so not to love as God loves us. And yet even when we do not love; even when we sin; even when we have created scandal and division in a world God created to be good, God still loves us. God delights in us and will always delight in us. How can this be? And how does this fact; this foundation of our faith that God loves and delights in us impel us to act as Christians; as Catholics?

“We have come to know and to believe in the love God has for us.” We know and believe that God delights in us. We know and believe this because, from the very moment of creation, “God saw that [his creation] was good.” God pronounced us “very good.” When we fell away from God in sin; in not loving and delighting in God; in one another; in God’s creation as God delights in us, God sent us God’s only Son to live, to die, to rise, to ascend to plead our cause “at the right hand of the Father” in heaven. And the Son of God, Jesus Christ, promises to return in glory to complete God’s work of our salvation.

Here is our evidence of “the love God has for us”; that God delights in us! And the same Jesus who lived, died, rose, ascended, and will return as one like us in all but sin shows his delight in us most of all by praying with and for us. We hear perhaps the most magnificent prayer of Jesus with and for us in all of Scripture today in our Gospel reading from John. What does Jesus pray in what is often called his “high priestly prayer”; his prayer with and for his disciples; with and for us just before he suffered and died for us?

Two features of Jesus’ prayer in John’s Gospel; two things for which Jesus prays for us stand out for me in particular. What are they? Jesus prays for us: “Holy Father, keep them in your name that you have given me, so that they may be one just as we are one.” Jesus prays for our unity. And then Jesus prays to our Father in the same prayer, “Consecrate them in the truth. Your word is truth.”

What would it mean for us to own this prayer of Jesus with and for us for ourselves? How might we “be one” as God the Father, Son, and Spirit are one? What does it mean for us to be consecrated; made holy “in the truth” that is the word of God? Does this not all seem extremely daunting to us: Achieving the ultimate unity that exists among the persons of the Trinity of the one God; being made holy in the truth of God’s word?

This is daunting for us, to be sure. But by God’s grace the unity and love among us that Jesus prays with and for us can be ours. How? Begin with prayer. Pray especially for the people with whom we disagree; the people who irritate us; the people who have even sinned against us. Pray for their good: “Lord God, who is all good and created us all good; who loves us although we are sinners, keep this person well and in your grace. Bring the person for whom I pray to the promise of your salvation for all whom you have created for yourself. Bring all people to deeper experience of the truth that you love and delight in us.” Pray a prayer like this not only once but until we can actively feel God’s love for the person for whom we pray being expressed through our words. Pray until our words become works of kindness; of charity; of opening up opportunities for dialogue with people who are different from us; who struggle in their faith or in living some of its teachings; who are of other faiths or no faith.

Prayer will not bring us to uniformity, so that we all agree on everything. But prayer as a community of faith and individually but for one another is at the root of unity around one central truth of our faith: God loves us; delights in us. And “we have come to know and to believe in the love God has for us.” Prayer that becomes action for peace; for forgiveness; for unity; for an end to divisions and violence is our starting point for showing our world God’s love for our world; God’s delight in us and in our world.

“That they may be one just as we are one… Consecrate them in the truth.” This is Jesus’ prayer of utmost love for us; delight in us. Jesus invites us to pray this prayer for one another; to live this prayer for one another. If we live this prayer for one another, the First Letter of John says, God’s “love is brought to perfection in us.” Jesus promises as he prays in John’s Gospel that, if we live this prayer for one another; if we pray for one another; forgive one another as we need to be forgiven; dialogue with one another and avoid the temptations of gossip; hyper-competition, and passive aggression, we will have the same joy in one another as Jesus does in us. We will have this same joy of Jesus Christ if we overcome ideological divisions; divisions among Christians of differing traditions; racial divisions; all greed; all forms of violence. “I speak this in the world,” Jesus says, “so that they may share my joy completely.”

Jesus speaks “this in the world”; prays this with and for us “in the world” because he loves us; because God delights in us. God calls us to love and to delight in what is good in one another; what is of God in one another. God wants to bring his love; joy; delight in us to perfection in, with, and through us. This is the very foundation of our Christian faith; of Christian and human unity; of our joy and of our salvation.

Homily for Friday, 15 May 2015– Friday of the Sixth Week of Easter

Readings of the day: Acts 18:9-18; Psalm 47:2-3, 4-5, 6-7; John 16:20-23

Have any of us noticed how, in these last few days of the Easter season, especially now between the Solemnity of the Lord’s Ascension and Pentecost (the Sunday after next), our daily readings have become dark; troubling?

Today the Acts of the Apostles speaks of Paul being brought once again to trial, this time before Gallio, the Roman “proconsul of Achaia” in Corinth. Is our Gospel reading today not especially ominous? Jesus speaks of his upcoming death, a painful experience for both him and for his disciples: “Amen, amen, I say to you, you will weep and mourn, while the world rejoices.”

Would we not think that, during the Easter season, our readings would be somewhat more uplifting? Why must we hear amid such a joyful season of these events of deep pain and suffering: Apostles like Paul arrested, facing trial and eventual death for their faith; Jesus preparing his disciples for his own death?

Our readings, I think, remind us that we live in an “in-between” time; a time of transition. We live in a time that is an intermingling of joy and sorrow; of order and chaos; of new life and death. In our Church’s liturgical year, we are between Jesus’ Ascension into heaven, a joyful event but also a kind of death; joy mingled with sorrow because Jesus is no longer here on earth, and Pentecost, the Holy Spirit’s descent upon the Apostles and the birth of the Church. Each of us is between birth and death.

Our baptism marks both death and resurrection in Christ, again sorrow and joy mingled together. Jesus speaks of the experience of childbirth. Anyone who has brought a child into the world or witnessed a birth: Can you not relate to the intermingling of pain and joy of which Jesus speaks? The events of our world today are often troubling: natural and human-made disaster; disease; war; extremism… And yet we see signs of hope.

How many of us have experienced the loss of a loved one and yet remember forever with fondness and joy the goodness of your loved one? How many of us have experienced severe illness or that of a loved one, and yet amid illness perhaps experienced perseverance with joy by the sick person and those who care for her or him?

In these and many more ways, we experience an in-between time; joy intermingled with sorrow; life with death; wellness with illness; order with chaos. And in this in-between time, our readings today encourage us. “Do not be afraid,” Paul hears and we hear in Acts. “You will grieve, but your grief will become joy,” Jesus says in John’s Gospel, “so you… are now in anguish. But I will see you again, and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take your joy away from you.”

Take courage; “do not be afraid.” This is not to deny suffering; pain; sorrow; even death. These are part of the in-between time we are living. But they are temporary. Christ will reign victorious over all these realities. This is our hope; our reason, in this in-between time, to be here; to continue to persevere in faith; to live with joy. And “no one will take [our] joy away from” us.