Homily for Thursday, 26 July 2018– Memorial of Sts. Anne and Joachim, Parents of the Blessed Virgin Mary

Thursday of the 16th Week in Ordinary Time

Readings of the day: Sirach 44:1, 8, 10-15; Psalm 132:11, 13-14, 17-18; Matthew 13:16-17

When Jesus blesses his disciples, “Truly I tell you, many prophets and righteous people longed to see what you see, but did not see it, and to hear what you hear, but did not hear it,” to what is Jesus referring that these righteous ancestors of his disciples did not see or hear?

We might suppose that Jesus is speaking of his own presence in the world, the remarkable event of God taking on human flesh and physically living among us, which his disciples’ ancestors would not have had the chance to experience. But our Gospel does not give us any more detail as to what Jesus’ disciples were blessed to see and hear that their ancestors were not.

On this note, I wonder what the lived experience of Sts. Anne and Joachim, the parents of the Blessed Virgin Mary, was. Would they have figured out that God had chosen their daughter Mary for a unique purpose, to bear, raise, and accompany the Son of God as his first disciple, from cradle to cross to heaven? Did Anne and Joachim ever comprehend that, for this purpose of being the Mother of God, Mary had been protected from the moment of her conception from original sin? What would their response have been when Mary became pregnant with Jesus, supposedly by the Holy Spirit? Were Joachim and Anne present at Jesus’ birth? How well, if at all, did Jesus know his maternal grandparents?

Many books, and movies, and even gospel accounts outside the Bible have speculated on answers to these questions, but the Biblical Gospels are silent about Sts. Joachim and Anne.

Still, I think of Sts. Joachim and Anne, Jesus’ grandparents, through my experience of my grandparents. I am fortunate to have known three of my four grandparents, one of whom, my dad’s mom, is still living. I remember my grandfather’s— Mom’s dad’s— sense of humour, his pride in being able to be of service even in little ways, his collection of tales and sayings from the army and as-impressive collection of historical books, photos, and Alaska Highway memorabilia! Grandma (on Mom’s side) and I would switch back and forth between French and English as we conversed and read the little newspaper from Grandma’s hometown together. She also made the most exquisite jams from whatever berries we picked from her yard.

My mother’s parents lived a simple life and loved each other profoundly to the end. Dad’s mom, at 92 years old, shows a remarkable ability to adapt to a rapidly-changing world, from farm life growing up, to raising children with my grandfather, who was in the U.S. Air Force, back to the farm, and lately to delighting in her great grandchildren and mastering today’s technologies: “Hey, Google, turn my bedside light on,” or “Hey, Google, tell me about Sts. Joachim and Anne.”

As Louis Armstrong once sang, “I hear babies crying. I watch them grow. They’ll learn much more than I’ll ever know. And I think to myself: What a wonderful world.” I imagine Joachim and Anne looking upon their grandson, Jesus, in a similar way with great hope for him and for our world, despite its changes, its challenges, and its troubles. Their hope is reflected in Jesus’ blessing upon his disciples; upon us; upon future generations: “Blessed are your eyes, for they see, and your ears, for they hear.” Ours is still a wonderful world.

Homily for Monday, 1 January 2018– Solemnity of the Blessed Virgin Mary, Mother of God

Octave Day of Christmas

Readings of the day: Numbers 6:22-27; Psalm 67:2-3, 5, 6, 8; Galatians 4:4-7; Luke 2:16-21

This homily was given at Our Lady of the Valley and St. James Church, Coldstream and Vernon, BC, Canada.

How many names and devotional titles can we think of by which we, as Catholics, celebrate Mary? We often give her, as in the name of today’s celebration, two names, “blessed” and “virgin.” When we speak of Mary as “the Blessed Virgin,” we combine two different Gospel accounts of Mary around the conception, birth, and infancy of Jesus: Matthew, who applies Isaiah’s prophecy to Mary, “A virgin shall be with child,” and Luke, in whose Gospel Mary’s relative, Elizabeth, first calls Mary “blessed.”

The second part of the title of today’s celebration of Mary, “Mother of God,” is a simplified form of a complicated Greek title given Mary at the First Council of Ephesus in 431, theotokos or “God-bearer.” The main purpose of the bishops at Ephesus was to affirm the truth of the two natures of Christ, both divine and human. Mary, then, was said not to have borne Jesus in his human nature but also in his divine nature in her womb; Mary is not only “Christ-bearer” but “God-bearer.”

And we have a long list of less-complicated names for Mary than theotokos. Anybody here whose name is Mary or a variation of Mary: I do not want to be too gloomy, but your name derives from myrrh, the burial spice brought by the magi in Matthew’s Gospel alongside gold and incense. The name Mary— Mariam, “myrrh-bearer”— reminds us of the suffering Mary would endure alongside her Son Jesus through his passion and death. No saint has as many titles or is called upon for as many causes as Mary. Right here [in the Vernon area], Mary is the namesake of our church, Our Lady of the Valley. When I was a teenager, my family moved to a parish called Our Lady of Perpetual Help, outside of Edmonton, Alberta. Pope Francis has helped to popularize the devotion to Our Lady, Untier of Knots, which was not a very common devotion until Francis became pope. Whole countries and regions, like the United States under Our Lady of the Immaculate Conception or the American continents under Our Lady of Guadalupe, are dedicated or, we say, consecrated to Mary.

Mary is called upon in times of illness. She has been called upon to defend nations in times of conflict. She is the patron of many a religious order, of refugees and migrants, of the homeless, the dying, of widows, and of those in situations of unplanned or crisis pregnancies. From the “Black Madonnas” of Częstochowa in Poland and Montserrat in Spain to her appearance to humble shepherd children of Fátima in Portugal; from Lourdes in France to atop a pillar in Spain; from Kazan in Russia to Australia’s Mary, Help of Christians, to Notre-Dame-du-Cap in Trois Rivières, Quebec, here in Canada, and beyond, the number of devotions to Mary and the causes associated with her are countless.

We also often call Mary “Queen of Heaven.” Two glorious mysteries of the Rosary, Mary’s Assumption and heavenly Crowning, recall our belief that Mary has been taken up body and soul into heaven, and reigns there as the greatest of all the saints. When we end our Rosary, and at other times, we pray, “Hail, Holy Queen, Mother of mercy, our life, our sweetness, and our hope”… and, during the Easter season, we might pray the “Regina coeli”: “Queen of heaven, rejoice, for the Son you merited to bear has risen as he said, alleluia”!

But what does it mean for us to recognize Mary as “queen”? I have to admit some personal fascination with royalty. Lately, as I have been staying with family over this Christmas season, I have caught a few episodes of the Netflix series “The Crown.” This series is about the rise to the throne and reign of Queen Elizabeth II. In several scenes of “The Crown,” Queen Elizabeth is sought for her government and diplomatic skill. She is consulted by Prime Ministers in dealing with sometimes tense events in the world early in her reign. “The Crown” portrays Elizabeth as a competent, strong yet calm queen. And yet I am even more drawn to how frequently “The Crown” portrays Elizabeth as a devoted and even tender wife to Prince Philip and mother to their children.

To a much greater extent than of Queen Elizabeth, indeed perfectly so, the same is true of Mary. She is Queen of Heaven, and yet also Mother. Mary is Mother of God; she is Mother of Christ; she is our Mother. Mary’s queenship and motherhood are inseparable. When we pray, “Hail, Holy Queen,” we add immediately, “Mother of mercy, our life, our sweetness, and our hope.” Our Regina coeli acknowledges Mary as “Queen of Heaven” (these are the prayer’s first words), and then immediately as the joyous one who bore her, and God’s, now-risen Son. Our Advent and Christmas hymn, Alma Redemptoris Mater, again acknowledges the inseparable queenship and motherhood of Mary: “Loving mother of the Redeemer, gate of heaven, star of the sea, assist your people who have fallen yet strive to rise again. To the wonderment of nature you bore your Creator, yet remained a virgin after as before. You who received Gabriel's joyful greeting, have pity on us poor sinners.”

St. Thérèse of Lisieux was known for her reverence and yet familial relationship with Mary. St. Thérèse knew Mary intimately as both queen and mother; as queen because Mary is our Mother. Some of the last words St. Thérèse spoke were these: “We know well that the Blessed Virgin is Queen of heaven and earth. But, I believe, she is more Mother than Queen, [because she] greatly increases the splendor of” her children.

As our Mother, the Mother of the Church, the Blessed Virgin Mary does not keep the splendor of queenship to herself. Instead, she guides us tenderly toward and reflects upon us the same splendor of heaven. Through Mary, Mother and Queen, God blesses us in the same way he once asked Moses to bless his people: “The LORD bless you and keep you; the LORD make his face to shine upon you and be gracious to you; the LORD lift up his countenance upon you and give you peace.” Through Mary, our Queen because she is our Mother; Mother of Christ, Mother of God, St. Paul says in his letter to the Galatians, we are made sons and daughters of the same God. “And if son [and daughter], then” we are also heirs (do we hear the royal language here?) to the salvation to which Mary is leading us.

Luke’s Gospel, we hear today, says that, when the shepherds arrived at the manger in Bethlehem where the newborn Jesus lay and “made known what had been told them about this child,” Mary “treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart.” Treasuring and pondering: These are the actions of a devoted, loving mother. As Mary once treasured and pondered the shepherds’ words about her Son Jesus, we can be assured, sisters and brothers, that Mary still ponders and still treasures us in her heart, the heart of a mother.

And so today we celebrate many things, including the beginning of a new year, no less. But, as we ring in this New Year, we celebrate first and foremost our Church’s Mother’s Day. We celebrate Mary, the one who ponders and treasures; the one who blesses and leads us toward heaven, toward God and God’s Son, Mary’s Son, Jesus Christ. Today we celebrate this joyful feast of Mary, greatest among the saints; woman of countless names, titles, and devotions; woman of our age and for all ages; Queen because she is first Mother. She, the Blessed Virgin Mary of Nazareth, is Mother of Christ; Mother of God; Mother and model of the Church; our Mother, for the salvation and greater splendor of her children.

Homily for Tuesday, 27 June 2017– Ferial

Tuesday of the 12th week in Ordinary Time

Optional Memorial of St. Cyril of Alexandria

Readings of the day: Genesis 13:2, 5-18; Psalm 15:2-3a, 3bc-4ab, 5; Matthew 7:6, 12-14

“Do unto others what you would have them do unto you.” Obedience to this rule, which is often called “the Golden Rule,” is easy enough, right? “This is the Law and the Prophets,” Jesus says to his disciples; to us in Matthew’s Gospel. In other words, this “Golden Rule” is the minimum standard of justice. It presumes that we would not normally want harm ourselves, and so, if we would not normally want to harm themselves, then we should not want to harm another person, either.

But how often do we give into temptation to retaliate against another person who wrongs us? How often do we give into indirect means of retaliation: Gossip or passive-aggression? Have we ever held a grudge? In individual instances, these may not be very serious faults, yet their harmful effects can accumulate if we act in these ways toward others often enough. Even so, though, one instance of gossip, of passive-aggressiveness, or of holding a grudge against another, to say little about acts of outright aggressiveness, are breaches of Jesus’ “Golden Rule”: “Do unto others what you would have them do unto you.” They are offenses against justice. I wonder how many of our sins have little to do with the so-called “hot-button” or “culture war” issues of our time and more to do with how we act toward one another from day to day, especially when another person wrongs us, frustrates us, or when we simply disagree with another person on an issue that is important enough to us. The ease with which the “Golden Rule” may be broken under sometimes small temptations may be the “broad” road leading “to destruction” of which Jesus speaks. Narrow is the road of justice and kindness, especially when others behave unjustly or unkindly toward us.

Jesus’ Golden rule is a call to a minimum standard of justice. This call to justice is also present in the Book of Genesis, in the story of the parting between Abram and Lot we hear today. “The land could not support” both Abram and Lot together, so they decide to separate from each other. But Abram and Lot consider each other’s good; they are concerned with justice. Both settle where the land is fertile and where they will be able to support families and gain a livelihood comfortably: Abram “in the land of Canaan” and Lot “among the cities of the plain.”

Most importantly, by separating from each other but still ensuring each other’s good, Abram and Lot act as God would act. Abram and Lot would have been perfectly in obedience with the “Golden Rule” that Jesus would give long after the time of Abram and Lot. They, as God calls us to be, are bearers of God’s presence to one another. As our Psalm response says today, the one who “does justice will live in the presence of the Lord.”

Today we also celebrate the memory of St. Cyril of Alexandria, who is known especially as a major promoter at the Council of Ephesus in 431 of the Greek title for Mary, our Blessed Mother, of Theotokos, or “God-bearer.” This title is not only a name for Mary; we are all called to be “God-bearers” by acting with justice toward one another as we would want others to bear the God of justice and kindness to us.

Homily for Sunday, 10 May 2015– Sixth Sunday of Easter

Readings of the day: Acts 10:25-26, 34-35, 44-48; Psalm 98:1, 2-3, 3-4; 1 John 4:7-10; John 15:9-17

“This is my commandment: love one another as I love you,” Jesus says to his disciples in our Gospel reading today, from John. What is love? What is the love with which Jesus commands us to love one another as he loves us?

Can any of us think of the first time you heard the word “love”? Who spoke this word to you? What did it mean to you? Might it have been when you were a child and your mother or father caressed you and whispered gently, “I love you”? My parents certainly have said this (and meant it) to me, to my sister and brother, and to each other countless times. I would not be here, a priest with and for you, our Church I love, without their love or yours.

But what is love? The range of meanings of “love” makes this question very difficult to answer. We love what brings us pleasure, comfort, or enjoyment: I love going out with friends; good food and drink; dessert (especially if there is chocolate!); sports; fancy clothes or cars, and so on… Some would love it if, during Mass, there were just a few seconds of silence to pray. Some others among us would love Mass to be as fast as possible while remaining reverent. And so liturgy, the work of and for the people, of and for the Church worshipping God, becomes the difficult and yet fruitful labor of love that it is.

In his first encyclical (a letter written to all Catholics of the world), Deus Caritas Est, or God is Love, Pope Benedict XVI speaks of the many meanings of love. “We speak of love of country,” Pope Benedict says, “love of one's profession, love between friends, love of work, love between parents and children, love between family members, love of neighbor, and love of God.” Perhaps the greatest expression of human love, Pope Benedict says beautifully, is the love between a woman and a man in marriage, in which “body and soul are inseparably joined and human beings glimpse an… irresistible promise of happiness.” In this way, married love is the sacrament; the great image between a woman and a man of God’s own life-giving love for us.

Love can take all these forms, all of which can be good. But what does Jesus say about love? In John’s Gospel we hear Jesus speak highly of love among friends: “I have called you friends.” How do we become friends with Jesus and so friends with one another, if friendship is so great an expression of love? Jesus says to us, “This is my commandment: love one another as I love you. No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.”

Love is not an option for us to do when we like; toward those whom we like. Jesus raises love to the level of a commandment: “Love one another.” And how do we love one another most fully? “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” Jesus sets the standard of laying “down one’s life for one’s friends” by dying on the cross for us. Jesus loves us even when we do not love him; when we have not loved one another, as we hear today from the First Letter of John: “In this is love: not that we have loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as expiation for our sins.”

Are we expected somehow to match this love that Jesus has for us? More Christians are killed for their faith than ever before in our Church’s history. And so we remember and we pray for those who, after Jesus, continue to “lay down [their] life for [their] friends”; for their faith. I encourage all of us to support those who work to build peace in troubled regions of our world. But here in these United States, is our chance of martyrdom, of literally laying “down [our] live for [our] friends” not slim? How, then, do we follow in this fullest sense Jesus’ commandment to “love one another as” Christ loves us?

We are not expected to die for our faith. Most of us probably will not become martyrs. But I believe Jesus does ask us to give of ourselves completely to another. Who, then, has acted selflessly toward us? Perhaps we could think of at least one example; one person who has loved us selflessly, in the way I think Jesus asks of us today in John’s Gospel. Maybe this person who loves us selflessly (since on this weekend is Mothers’ Day) is our mother. She is the one whose love has given us life; nurtured us; shown the love of Christ to us in all its depth. Children, especially those of you who will receive your first communion in a few moments: Have not your mothers been so important in bringing you here to this day of welcome to the Table of the Lord for the first time? Now you have a chance; the responsibility, even, to bring the love of Christ you receive for the first time in the Eucharist to our world; to your family and friends; to your schools; to your communities. Show love to your mother in a special way today.

All of us: Whisper to your mothers (and mean it!), “I love you.” If your mother is in heaven with God on this Mothers’ Day, pray to God through her with confidence: “Mom, give me the strength you have; the strength of heaven to love as Christ loves us.” Might we do what our fathers have so often asked us to do: “Ask your mother”? And God will hear the prayers of our mothers in heaven and on earth, the prayer of Mary, Mother of God, for God’s Son Jesus Christ says of our Father in heaven, “Whatever you ask the Father in my name he [will] give you.”

Ask for the strength to love as Christ loves us. Ask for the gifts of generosity and selflessness that we see already at work among us so beautifully. Ask for opportunities for small acts of kindness and follow through on them. Ask in prayer and work for peace in our world; in our country; in our cities and communities. Ask God for the strength to stand up to bullying, to gossip, to any action that destroys human dignity; that tears down the people whom Jesus loves. Ask in prayer; act with the love Jesus gives us, and God will hear our prayer. Ask for healing and consolation for all among us who are sick or dying.  “Whatever you ask the Father in my name he [will] give you… ”

“Love one another as I love you,” Jesus says. “This is my commandment,” certainly not an easy commandment but one that is possible with God’s grace; God’s strength. Jesus does not put before us an impossible commandment. “Love one another as I love you.” Be kind to one another as I am kind to you. Seek out the lost; the sinners; those who are without a friend, just as I have sought you out when you were lost; a sinner; short of friends. Receive me; my strength; my love in the Eucharist and in the other sacraments of the Church. Take this love to the world, and God promises us that we will “bear fruit that will remain.” Include others who would not be included in God’s embrace of love otherwise: The doubting; the troublesome; the disagreeable; those who think differently than we do; people of other cultures and faiths. We have a great example of this kind of inclusive love in our first reading today, from Acts, in which Peter reaches out in love to the house of the pagan Greek Cornelius, who in turn accepts baptism and the gift of the Holy Spirit; a gift borne of God’s love through these early Apostles.

Love, then, is no longer a broad idea or concept but a simple commandment and our joy to live out. Jesus says, “I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and your joy might be complete.” Ask for God’s love in prayer. Act in God’s love. Love with confidence as Christ loves us. This is the selfless love with which Christ gave his life for us, his “friends.” This is the love that saves us; that empowers us now by the gift of God’s Holy Spirit to “bear fruit that will remain” in our world that thirsts for love. This is the love with which God has loved us first. “Love one another,” Jesus says, “as I love you.”