Homily for Thursday, 29 August 2019‒ Memorial of the Passion of St. John the Baptist

Readings of the day: Jeremiah 1:17-19; Psalm 17:1-2, 3-4a, 5-6ab, 15ab, 17; Mark 6:17-29

Thursday of the 21st week in Ordinary Time

This homily was given at St. James Church, Vernon, BC, Canada.

How many saints get two feast days, one to commemorate their birth and another to commemorate their death, in our Church?

The answer to this question is that two saints are commemorated in our Church both on their dates of birth and dates of death: Mary, mother of God, and John the Baptist. But why, when our Church already offers us the beautiful Solemnity of the Nativity of John the Baptist, which we celebrate on June 24, do we add this memorial of his brutal death by beheading at the hands of King Herod Antipas, who caves in to the demands of his wife Herodias and daughter Salome to put John to death?

Today’s memorial of the Passion of John the Baptist dates back to the earliest centuries of the Church. It is almost as old as the Solemnity of the Nativity of John the Baptist, and is one of the few feasts to have been celebrated in both Eastern and Western Christianity that early in the Church’s history.

Today, I think, this memorial of the Passion of John the Baptist serves as an “echo” celebration to that of the Passion of Jesus Christ, which we commemorate through Holy Thursday and Good Friday. But it also serves as a reminder of our sisters and brothers in faith who continue to give their lives for their faith and for its truths, moral or otherwise. This reality may seem distant to us here in a place like Canada, but perhaps a greater proportion of the world’s total number of Christians are subject to anti-Christian violence or give their lives for their faith than at any time in history.

People of faith, not only Christians, are harmed and killed simply for being who they are; for the most part they are not people who preach religious faith or its teachings in a way that would upset people. They are not the likes of John the Baptist, who as we know from our Gospel confronted Herod Antipas over his wrongful marriage to his brother’s wife Herodias, and so drew the ire of Herodias, who wanted John dead.

The martyrs of today are, by and large, silent witnesses; prophets more by the integrity of their lives than by their words of teaching or preaching. So how can we, here in a place where it is quite safe to practice our Christian faith, live in solidarity with our sisters and brothers today whose faith leaves them in harm’s way?

Like our sisters and brothers in faith who continue to suffer violence and even give their lives for their faith in our world, our first way of living in solidarity with them will usually be to live as they do: Quietly, humbly, but with integrity. Some of us, though, may be called to proclaim truths that will cause discomfort; cause us to be ridiculed, even in our personal and social interactions. We will be called to defend the dignity of all human life, from the first moments of conception to natural death. We are and will be called to live and speak to the truth of the dignity of all creation, against unchecked concentration of wealth in the hands of a few, which breeds (if we are hearing the news reports just within these latest weeks) the evils of greed, nationalism, racism and other forms of xenophobia; the destruction of forests and the accelerated extinction of species.

John the Baptist lived and gave his life for the truths he discerned by faith in his time. In solidarity with John and many people of faith who live and give their lives in similar ways still today, we are and will be called to do the same.

Homily for Tuesday, 28 April 2015– Tuesday of the Fourth Week of Easter

Readings of the day: Acts 11:19-26; Psalm 87:1b-3, 4-5, 6-7; John 10:22-30

What is the importance of Antioch? Our first reading this morning, from Acts, says that “in Antioch… the disciples were first called Christians.” At this time Antioch was not in Jewish territory but, for the most part, inhabited by pagan Greeks. Acts says that the first disciples of Christ had been scattered “by the persecution” during which Stephen, the first martyr recorded in Scripture, had been killed. Almost in spite of this persecution, for the first time the Gospel message of Jesus Christ was reaching not only Jewish ears, the first to hear the Word of God, but a large center of pagan Greeks. And many people of Antioch were accepting and living this faith in Jesus as God when their lives might have been endangered by their faith.

But still, do not these events of early Christian Antioch seem remote to many of us today? Before I became a Basilian but was studying at St. Joseph’s College, a Basilian college of the University of Alberta in Edmonton, Canada, every year our student retreat was called the “Antioch Retreat.” This was a way, by name of our retreat, to unite ourselves to the witness of these first Christians of Antioch not long after Christ’s death, resurrection, and ascension to heaven.

Antioch today is in Syria. Christians are a small minority there and are threatened by political unrest, by Syria’s dictatorship, and more recently by the evil of ISIS. And yet still Antioch, this ancient cradle of our faith, can seem remote to us. We face our own challenges as a nation; as a city. We awaken this morning to the destruction in Baltimore; the ravages of gang violence and racial inequity here in these United States. Many not far from us awaken to broken relationships; families; marriages.

And so how are we to remember the first or even the current Christians of faraway Antioch when we are faced with so many events; challenges closer to home? How do we remember the first people who put a name to our belief in Jesus’ promise that we hear today in John’s Gospel: “I know them, and they follow me.  I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish”?

Families and households: I encourage you to pray together at least once a day. Pray in thanksgiving for blessings. Ask God for what you need in time of trial. Pray even in silence for a few moments. Pray together!

All of us: I encourage us to commit to non-violence by word and action; to upholding the dignity of human life, of people of every race and tongue. I encourage us to speak and act for the rights of the working poor; for migrants and refugees. I encourage us to be mindful of our duty to protect creation; the earth God has given us. Pray for those persecuted for their faith. Visit the sick and the dying if you are able.

These are a few ways in which we can make ancient Antioch somewhat less remote. We bear the name “Christian” as they did in Antioch just after Jesus’ time. Like them, then and now, we witness to Christ’s promise to all of us: “I know them, and they follow me.  I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish.”

Homily for Wednesday, 22 April 2015– Wednesday of the Third Week of Easter

Readings of the day: Acts 8:1b-8; Psalm 66:1-3a, 4-5, 6-7a; John 6:35-40

Has anybody ever experienced somebody who is joyful, even when this person is experiencing great suffering or distress?

Ever since my first time serving as a Basilian in Cali, Colombia, seven years ago, the Easter season has brought to my mind many experiences there of people who showed great joy amid the suffering and distress of deep poverty. My first Palm Sunday in Colombia was especially moving. We Basilians were carrying bundles of palm branches we had cut through the poorest neighborhood of the parish we serve in Cali. Along the way, children left their shelters (often made of scrap metal or even cardboard) three; four; five; six at a time to embrace us and greet us with bright smiles. These children showed so much joy and gratitude for the service of the Basilians in their neighbourhood; their parish. This remains one of my most moving moments of my life as a Basilian: Great joy amid such great distress; suffering; poverty!

I see similar joy amid suffering and distress when I minister with the poor in our own inner city of Rochester: House of Mercy, Bethany House with the Sisters of St. Joseph… On Easter Sunday at Sanctuary Village, a tent city relocated to a loading dock, over one hundred fifty people, most homeless, joined us in worship with lively song to greet our risen Lord. How beautiful, this joy amid homelessness; poverty; hunger! I also see this joy amid suffering when I visit the sick in hospitals and homes; when I anoint the sick with blessed oil.

This joy amid suffering; distress; persecution is the experience of the people in our first reading today, from the Acts of the Apostles. The persecution led by Saul (who would later be converted and become the great St. Paul) had “scattered” all but the Apostles “throughout the countryside of Judea and Samaria.” Facing persecution, the Apostles do not give up their ministry. We hear in Acts especially of the ministry of the Apostle Philip: Preaching, healing the sick and those with “unclean spirits.” And we hear of how the people responded to Philip’s ministry in Samaria: “There was great joy in that city.”

The people of Samaria recognized the presence of Christ risen in the Apostles, even amid great suffering; distress; persecution. They recognized and hoped in the presence of the Lord who says in John’s Gospel to us today: “I am the bread of life… This is the will of my Father, that everyone who sees the Son and believes in him may have eternal life, and I shall raise him on the last day.” They recognized and hoped in the signs of eternal life that were already with them in the Apostles’ loving service. Our Psalm response today was the song of these people, even amid their suffering: “Let all the earth cry out to God with joy”!

And the risen Christ invites us to make this song our own, by serving especially amid those who suffer; who are sick; dying; homeless; displaced; persecuted. Many of us know already, I am confident, how, when we serve with joy, we receive joy, even from people who suffer; people in distress; people whose only gift (but what a gift!) to us is joy.

Homily for Saturday, 24 May 2014‒ Saturday of the Fifth Week of Easter

This homily was given at the convent of the Holy Child Sisters, Oxford, United Kingdom

Readings of the day: Acts 16:1-10; Psalm 100:1b-2, 3, 5; John 15:18-21

How many of us have ever had the experience of simply knowing “that God had called us” to take a particular action or to speak in a particular way relating to our faith? This was the experience of St. Paul and Timothy and of the other “Apostles and presbyters” of whom we hear in our first reading. Guided by the wise discernment of God’s will for them and for the Church by these leaders, the earliest Christian communities “grew stronger in faith and increased in number,” we hear from Acts.

The Acts of the Apostles presents us with a scenario of the earliest Church that is almost too good to be true. We know that Christians of this time faced sometimes severe persecution, even martyrdom. In our own time we may (I think rightly) question someone who says that she or he knows, without qualification, that she or he has been called by God to act or speak in a particular way.

And yet, with this caution in mind, I wonder if, in limited circumstances, it is possible, even probable, that we may be called by God to particular actions or words.  Perhaps these circumstances may include when we took religious vows. For priests, they may include when we were ordained. For others yet, moments when they know that God’s will for them is to serve in mission lands or to risk their own lives for our faith raise for me the question of whether these people have discerned a calling that is beyond their strength alone. Prayerful discernment of our calling; our vocation from God, in my experience and in that of many people I know, leads those who discern their divine vocation to a deep sense of peace that at times is not readily explained.

This sense of peace in knowing that we are discerning how God is calling us to act or to speak can even help us as Church to overcome persecution. It can help us to overcome a kind of estrangement from “the world,” in the words of our Gospel reading today; a world from which God has called us to God’s service because God nevertheless loves the world, despite its (and our) rejection of God when we sin.

In the times that gave rise to the Acts of the Apostles and to John’s Gospel, as in our times, our experience as Church is a mixed one. On the one hand, in places the Church was and is growing rapidly both in numbers and in the strength of faith of its members. The situation depicted primarily in Acts still takes place in many places today. On the other hand, the Church is still persecuted; martyrs still shed their blood in a world that “hates” God and rejects God’s Christ at times.

And yet, amid both the growth in numbers and strength and persecution and rejection, we are called as Christians to come to know, as well as we are able, God’s will for us; to discern how we are to act as God acts and how we are to speak the words of God. In discerning this will of God and our vocation in light of it, we find our greatest peace.