Homily for Thursday, 13 June 2019– Memorial of St. Anthony of Padua, Priest and Doctor of the Church

Readings of the day: 2 Corinthians 3:15-4:1, 3-6; Psalm 85:9ab, 10, 11-12, 13-14; Matthew 5:20-26

Thursday of the 10th week in Ordinary Time

“Dear St. Anthony, please come ‘round. Something is lost and cannot be found.” How many of us have prayed this prayer or a prayer like this to St. Anthony when we have lost something?

St. Anthony of Padua is known as the patron saint for finding lost items. This association between St. Anthony and lost items is based on a legend of a Franciscan novice under St. Anthony’s guidance who left his religious order in anger, taking with him St. Anthony’s breviary, or book of daily prayers. According to the legend, an angry St. Anthony appeared in a dream to the novice the night after the novice had suddenly left the Franciscans with St. Anthony’s breviary. St. Anthony’s appearance in his dream convinced the novice to return to the Franciscans and to return the breviary to St. Anthony while accepting to do penance for having stolen the breviary and for his outburst of anger.

Maybe the novice’s vision of an angry St. Anthony in his dream was so effective in persuading the novice to return St. Anthony’s breviary and return to the Franciscans because it was so out of character for St. Anthony to lose his temper. St. Anthony is one of the most versatile saints of the Church, and a patron of many causes besides lost items, but he was not known as an angry saint. However, St. Anthony is associated with instances in which he interceded to quell anger or to repair the damage of angry outbursts. In one instance, a knight in Tuscany had beaten his wife, but then turned to St. Anthony in sorrow for his own sin. St. Anthony healed the knight’s wife. Another version of this legend has a young woman whose hair had been torn out by her husband turn to St. Anthony. Miraculously, while St. Anthony prayed for the woman as well as for repentance for her husband and reconciliation in their marriage, the woman’s hair grew back in St. Anthony’s presence.

St. Anthony of Padua is a saint of repentance and reconciliation. In Matthew’s Gospel today, Jesus intensifies the Old Testament commandment not to kill to include outbursts of anger that are meant to destroy or demean others: “You have heard that it was said to your ancestors… ‘You shall not kill,’ and whoever kills will be liable to judgment. But I say to you, whoever is angry with his brother will be liable to judgment.”

On the one hand, anger in itself is not a sin but an emotion with which God has created us all. Even God; even Jesus becomes angry occasionally, as the Bible shows us. On the other hand, God calls us to master our more intense emotions like anger so we do not use these emotions to destroy other people or ourselves. Jesus’ commandment could be extended, appropriately in our time, to avoidance of gossip, passive aggression, and other subtler but as-destructive forms of lack of control of our anger.

Maybe most important, though, is what Jesus says further on in today’s Gospel. If we are aware that another person “has anything against us,” Jesus says, “go first and be reconciled with your brother.” In other words, we might recognize that we are all sinners and that, sooner or later, we will need another’s forgiveness or need to forgive another person. Jesus asks us to anticipate this need for forgiveness, to be reconciled to one another, in a sense, preemptively. On this memorial of St. Anthony of Padua, may St. Anthony intercede for us, so that we might master anger; that we might know our own and one another’s need for reconciliation, and anticipate one another in this need, going “first” to “be reconciled with” our brothers and sisters.

Souvenir de Sr. Jeanne d'Arc Brunelle, CSC, mardi, 22 novembre 2016– Words of Remembrance of Sr. Jeanne d'Arc Brunelle, CSC, Tuesday, 22 November 2016

Mon souvenir de ma grande-tante, Sr. Jeanne d'Arc Brunelle, CSC, donnée le mardi 22 novembre 2016, lors de la veille de ses funérailles au Pavillon Saint-Joseph, l'infirmerie des Sœurs de Sainte-Croix à Montréal (Québec), Canada

My words of remembrance of my great-aunt, Sr. Jeanne d'Arc Brunelle, CSC, given last evening, Tuesday, November 22, 2016, during the vigil prayer service at Pavillon Saint-Joseph, the infirmary of the Sisters of Holy Cross in Montreal, QC, Canada:

---

Chères sœurs, religieuses de la Congrégation de Sainte-Croix, et aux membres de notre famille étendue qui sont présents dans l’Esprit : s’il vous plaît me laisser commencer cette petite réflexion sur la vie de notre Sœur, tante, et grande-tante Jeanne d’Arc Brunelle, aussi dite Sœur Marie-de-Saint-Roger-de-la-Croix, avec un mot de remerciement. Durant ces derniers jours de sa vie terrestre, vous avez bien reconforté, veillé sur, et prié pour notre Sr. Jeanne d’Arc. Étant le petit neveu de Jeanne d’Arc et doctorant actuellement à Paris, j’ai éte durant ces derniers jours en communication régulière avec la Sr. Lucie Germain, CSC, dont je suis particulièrement reconnaissant et qui a gardé notre famille au courant de Jeanne d'Arc au jour le jour.

About a week ago, my mother Carol Schmidt and uncle Roger Salt traveled from Edmonton, Alberta, to be with our Aunt Jeanne in the last days of her earthly life. Although neither Carol nor Roger are able to be with us in person today, they are with us in spirit and in prayer. While they were here at Pavillon Saint-Joseph, they were able to remember and celebrate the life of another family member and Holy Cross Sister of this community, Sr. Alberta Pilon, CSC, and to be with our relatives from Lafontaine, Ontario, the hometown of Srs. Jeanne and Alberta, all the way to Edmonton, at Sr. Alberta's funeral Mass.

Nous reconnaissons que ces derniers jours ont été difficiles, exceptionnellement même pour une communauté telle que celle-ci où l'âge, l'infirmité, et les décès sont des réalités quotidiennes. J’empathise avec, j’honore, et je partage votre tristesse par rapport au décès de la Sr. Jeanne d'Arc et après les plusieurs décès récents dans cette communauté du Pavillon Saint-Joseph, et je prie pour vous.

Mais, bien que nous soyons attristés, sœurs et frères, notre tristesse n’est-elle pas peut-être amoindrie en ayant connus la joie que notre chère Sr. Jeanne d’Arc a apportée à nos vies, notre communauté, nos familles, et notre monde? Aunt Jeanne’s life is all but impossible to sum up in one word, but if I were to try to capture her life, her spirit, and her example of religious life and Christian faith and love that is a model for us all, that word would be “joy.”

The first time I remember meeting Aunt Jeanne was when I was 12 years old. Aunt Jeanne lived at the time in the Holy Cross convent in Cornwall. I quickly became acquainted with Aunt Jeanne’s joyful and welcoming character, and with the place on the outside of the 2nd Street Cornwall convent house where group photos would be taken, always with somebody positioned to hide the large electrical outlet on the house from the camera exposure... Try as the Sisters of Holy Cross might to hide that electrical outlet, it was impossible for Aunt Jeanne to hide her joy and energy that I am convinced were from God more than from any human source or outlet!

La petite publication francophone de la région de Lafontaine et de la Baie Géorgienne, savons-nous peut-être, s’appelle « Le goût de vivre ». Notre sœur Jeanne d’Arc avait bien ce goût de vivre en abondance, et elle n'avait peur de rien ni de personne. Dans un monde qui paraît de plus en plus marqué par la peur, la division, la violence et l'exclusion, notre Sr. Jeanne fut naturellement un exemple jaillissant de foi, d'unité, d'espoir, de charité, d'humilité et surtout de joie. Toujours l’une de mes plus grandes inspirations dans la vie religieuse (je suis Basilien, bien que j'ais aussi dans l'âme un peu de Sainte-Croix), dans mon enseignement, mes études et mes voyages à travers le monde, la Sr. Jeanne a enseigné à Lafontaine et à Cornwall et plusieurs années durant ses « vacances » d’été, notamment dans quelques pays de l’Afrique [*Zaire at the time, now the Democratic Republic of the Congo, Upper Volta, now Burkina Faso, and Fiji in the South Pacific... En ce temps le Zaïre, actuellement la République démocratique du Congo, Upper Volta, actuellement le Burkina Faso, et le Fidji dans le Pacifique du Sud].

Quand je suis né, notre Sr. Jeanne avait vécu déjà presque la moitié de ses soixante-quatorze ans de vie religieuse. À l’âge où la plupart des personnes commencent à planifier leur retraite, Sr. Jeanne est partie enseigner dans un collège de filles en Haïti, pays à l'époque sous l'épouvantable dictateur Jean-Claude (Baby Doc) Duvalier. Ceci a profondément inquiété le père de Jeanne, Roger Brunelle. En plus, Sr. Jeanne et sa communauté cachaient en Haïti des dissidents contre Duvalier, et alors, de ce que je comprends, les sœurs de là ont dû être sorties d'Haïti parce qu'elles étaient menacées de mort aux mains des paramilitaires. Notre Sr. Jeanne n'a raconté cet histoire qu'à peu de personnes, même à sa famille et à d'autres religieuses de Sainte-Croix.

Si on n’aimait pas Sr. Jeanne d'Arc (je ne peux pas imaginer comment il serait possible de ne pas l'aimer), au moins on la respectait. À Cornwall,  jeune religieuse à l'époque, elle était respectée et même protégée par les gangsters qu'elle enseignait, avant et après qu'ils sachent qu’elle était une religieuse! Et, vers la fin de sa vie remarquable, rendue douleureuse par le cancer entre autres infirmités, Sr. Jeanne a humblement laissé derrière elle ces merveilleuses aventures pour habiter ici au Pavillon Saint-Joseph, où elle aida à soigner les Sœurs en pire état de santé qu’elle.

Aunt Jeanne was afraid of nothing and nobody, from the world’s worst dictators to the bikers who respected and even protected her, before and after they knew she was a sister, in a classroom in Cornwall! She was always among the first to welcome, as she did me, both on my way to (accompanied by Srs. Rachel Lavoie and Cécile Bouvier, CSC, of blessed memory) and back through Montreal on the bookends of my undergraduate exchange year in Lille, France, in 2001-2002. On my return from France, my flight was extremely late into Montreal. No matter, Aunt Jeanne waited joyfully and patiently for me, window shopping (but remaining faithful to her vow of poverty), for all of fifteen minutes of conversation and a quick coffee before I was to board my connecting flight.

Aunt Jeanne will be remembered as a messenger – dare I say, an apostle – of God's joy and lively Spirit. For all our extraordinary memories of our Sister and (great)-aunt, may we recognize above all that her life and example are God's work through her; God’s continued work through us, to bring us all to the eternal life we now pray Aunt Jeanne is inheriting. May she rest now in the peace of our merciful Lord, hearing the words promised by Christ himself in our Holy Scriptures: “Well done, good and faithful servant... Enter now into the Kingdom prepared by my Father.”

Que notre Sr. Jeanne d’Arc Brunelle repose en la paix de notre Seigneur miséricordieux. Qu'elle rejoigne là ses bien-aimé(e)s: Sa sœur, ma grand-mère Simone Salt (née Brunelle), son beau-frère Frank Salt, ses parents Alida (Desroches) et Roger Brunelle, sa cousine la Sr. Alberta Pilon, CSC, Saint André Bessette et le Bienheureux Basile Moreau, tous et toutes les sœurs, frères, et pères de Sainte-Croix. Et  que notre Sr. Jeanne d’Arc entende la promesse de vie et de joie éternelle de Jésus-Christ à ses fidèles dès notre sainte Écriture : « Très bien, serviteur bonne et fidèle... Entrez maintenant dans le Royaume préparé par mon Père ».

Homily for Sunday, 24 July 2016

17th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Readings of the day: Genesis 18:20-32; Psalm 138:1-2, 2-3, 6-7, 7-8; Colossians 2:12-14; Luke 11:1-13

This homily was given at the Monastery of the Carmel of St. Joseph near Spruce Grove, AB, Canada.

Please allow me to ask a couple of personal questions, and please do not answer aloud or even by a show of hands, but keep your answers between yourselves and God. First, has anybody here ever known somebody else to be a real pest to you? This person could be a co-worker; a relative; somebody in your family; a neighbour; somebody you hardly know and do not really want to know any better. For those of us here in consecrated religious life, the pest could be somebody in our religious community. Children among us: How often have you felt pestered by your brother or sister (if you have brothers or sisters); by another kid at school; by somebody else? This pest in your life may ask endless questions or make unreasonable demands. He or she gets under your skin. The pest will not simply give up and go away!

My second question is this: How many of us have ever been a pest to somebody? I have asked us to keep our answers to these questions between ourselves and God. But I must say that I am guilty as charged of having been a pest on a few occasions. As the eldest of three siblings in my family (I have one younger sister and one younger brother) and as a member of a religious community of priests, I have had many opportunities to be a pest. Sometimes the temptation is irresistible!

And sometimes to be a pest is fine. My sisters and brothers in Christ, today we hear first from the Word of God, from Genesis, the story of Abraham the Pest. Abraham is one of the finest pests in Scripture! God is on the receiving end of Abraham’s persistence “by the oaks of Mamre.” We have heard that all this begins with God’s plan to destroy the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah for their great wickedness.

I suppose that God did not need to tell Abraham that he was about to destroy Sodom and Gomorrah. Why invite the trouble; the endless questions? Just go and destroy those wicked cities! Yet God relents. Way to go, God; now Abraham the Pest is sure never to leave you alone! But God has a purpose in allowing Abraham to question him about Sodom and Gomorrah. God, even at his fire-and-brimstone best, is not consumed with anger or bent on destruction. God is our God of mercy; of “loving kindness”; of true justice through and through. This event in Genesis is not about the nature of Sodom’s or Gomorrah’s sin (of which, despite longstanding speculation, scholarly and not, nobody is really sure) but first about God’s merciful love. Destruction is God’s last resort.

Long before our current concept developed of “innocent until proven guilty,” God applies this principle by going “to see whether” the people of Sodom and Gomorrah have done as they are accused of doing. By doing this, God allows Abraham the chance to plead with him: “Suppose there are fifty righteous within the city; will you then sweep away the place and not forgive it for the fifty righteous who are in it”?

God must admit that Abraham has a good point here. To find fifty righteous people, even in cities as wicked as Sodom and Gomorrah, would be somewhat easy. But then Abraham persists: “What if there are only forty-five righteous people in Sodom and Gomorrah”?

We might imagine God responding, “Fine. I will spare the city if only forty-five righteous people are there, but do not push your luck”! And so what does Abraham do? He pushes his luck further, of course: “Suppose forty are found there.” “Fine,” God says, “hold the brimstone.”

“Suppose thirty are found there.” “Fine,” God sighs, “I’m having trouble finding my flamethrower anyway.”

“Suppose twenty are found there.” God responds, “Abraham, what did I say about not pushing your luck? But, yes, no problem, I will not destroy Sodom and Gomorrah if you know of twenty righteous people there. Now go away and do not bother me anymore”!

This does not deter Abraham the Pest: “Oh, do not let the LORD be angry if I speak just once more.” “What is it”?! God growls at Abraham, “I said not to bother me anymore about Sodom and Gomorrah! Then again, I’ve promised you everything else: A son; descendants to outnumber the stars… I kind of like you. In fact I love you dearly, even though you are such a pest! What do you want”?

“S-s- suppose ten are found there…” Abraham trembles. “Done,” God says, “for the sake of ten I will not destroy it… Now will you go relax under the oaks of Mamre and stop pestering me”? “Deal,” says Abraham.

… If we have such a great example of how to be a pest as Abraham in the Old Testament, can we not imagine that, in the Gospels, to be a pest would be raised to a fine art form? Jesus gives his disciples; gives us a prayer, the Our Father, the Lord’s Prayer, that is an acknowledgement of the holiness of God’s name, “Father, hallowed be your name,” followed by a series of petitions. We ask God for things in this prayer: “Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our sins, as we forgive everyone indebted to us. And do not bring us to the time of trial.”

Might we understand the Our Father, especially in light of the rest of today’s Gospel reading, as Jesus’ teaching on how to pester God effectively? The Our Father is not meant to be prayed only once. We pray it together every time we gather to celebrate our Eucharist. And many of us pray the Our Father multiple times a day. God wants us to pester him!

Now God invites us to join in the long tradition of pestering him effectively. Abraham, our father in faith, is also our father in persistence. Jesus was persistent. So were Jesus’ disciples, and so are we invited to be.

Jesus gives us a story, exaggerated for humorous effect, of the man who “at midnight” asks his friend for “three loaves of bread” because his “friend… has arrived.” The man is able to get “whatever he needs” in the end, Jesus says, if only “because of his persistence.” And then we hear from Jesus through Luke another memorable saying: “Ask, and it will be given you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you.”

Only here Jesus is no longer exaggerating. God will answer our prayer; our petition. God may not answer our prayer in exactly the way we expect, or even the first time we ask. But often, I think, God wants us to keep asking; to be persistent; to ask in a variety of ways for what we desire so to give us a chance to purify our desires. What, ultimately, do we all desire? I think the answer to this question is eternal life; salvation.

Our salvation is worth pestering God about, as are other desires of ours that lead us in the direction of salvation; of eternal life; of stronger relationship with God and one another. St. Paul, another of the Bible’s most brilliant pests, says this in his Letter to the Colossians: Do not be afraid to ask God to be saved; to ask God for forgiveness; for the strength to forgive others. Even “when [we] were dead in trespasses,” we were never beyond God’s saving love, kindness, and mercy.

Our God, Paul adds, has already anticipated our persistent prayer; our ultimate desire to be saved: “He forgave us all our trespasses… He set this aside, nailing it to the cross.” If Abraham were effective in pestering God to save Sodom and Gomorrah “for the sake of” only ten righteous people, now we have a chance to be saved because of the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ; because of this action of the one and only truly Righteous One.

And so it is worth our while to pester God. Pray with persistence. Knock on God’s door at midnight, saying, “Our friends have arrived and we need bread for the great celebration of your merciful presence; the sacrament of salvation we call Eucharist.” And, with persistence, our desires will be purified, to lead us more directly to God; to salvation. After all, God began working on satisfying this ultimate desire of ours before we ever asked.

Homily for Monday, 24 August 2015‒ Feast of St. Bartholomew

Monday of the 21st Week in Ordinary Time

Readings of the day: Revelation 21:9b-14; Psalm 145:10-11, 12-13, 17-18; John 1:45-51

What is in a name? 

Today on this feast of St. Bartholomew, one of Jesus’ first Twelve Apostles, our readings center on the importance of names. The Book of Revelation gives us an image of the heavenly Jerusalem. This city, appearing “out of heaven,” has twelve gates, three facing each of the four directions and each inscribed with a name of one of the Twelve Apostles.

The names of Jesus’ Twelve Apostles, a reflection of “the names of the twelve tribes of Israel” in the Old Testament, are important in Revelation. But one difficulty is that neither the Book of Revelation (in which the Apostles are not actually named together) nor the four Gospels agree on the names of Jesus’ Apostles, only that there were twelve. John’s Gospel today highlights one of the most significant differences among the Gospels in names of the Apostles.

Today, on St. Bartholomew’s feast day, Bartholomew is not even mentioned in our Gospel. Instead we hear of Nathanael, who is found by Philip under a fig tree and introduced to Jesus, and then joins the other Apostles. But who is Nathanael (or Bartholomew?) but the kind of follower and friend Jesus seeks: “a true child of Israel”; honestly seeking God and what is right, without “duplicity”? Beyond this, we cannot know much about who Nathanael (or Bartholomew) was or were.

Yet this and other differences in the Apostles’ names among the Gospels is not necessarily a problem for us. It is possible, even probable, that Jesus’ Apostles had multiple names. We know that Peter, “the rock,” was also known as Simon, “God has heard,” and as Kephas, “the head.” After Jesus’ Ascension into heaven, his Apostles are traditionally understood to have spread our faith to faraway lands and cultures. St. Bartholomew is said to have gone as far as India. Could Jesus’ Apostles have acquired names and nicknames in these places? This, too, is possible. Having served in several countries as a Basilian, I have acquired nicknames and variations on my own given names. Colombian Basilians will often call me by my middle name, Roger, because Warren can be difficult for them to pronounce. Most moving is when they add “Hermano” (“Brother”) to Roger. Since my ordination, my Colombian confrères have delighted in stringing together excessively pious nicknames on top of “Hermano Roger” when calling me. This would irritate me if it were not clearly a lighthearted mark of affection from my Basilian brothers in Colombia.

And so it is possible for Jesus’ Apostles to have had many names. Bartholomew, the “son of a ploughman,” could also have been Nathanael, meaning “God has given.” But does this matter to us?

Our names matter. God called us to birth; to his service in this world by name. God will call each of us home to heaven by name. In baptism, before the priest or deacon asks what the parents and godparents seek from the Church for their child (presumably baptism), we ask, “What name will you give your child”?

We have one name that matters: That of Christian. From our baptism we Christians, like Nathanael (or Bartholomew), have been called to serve God as “true” children “of Israel”; children, friends and Apostles of Christ, with “no duplicity in” us.

Homily for Saturday, 11 July 2015– Memorial of St. Benedict

Saturday of the 14th Week in Ordinary Time

Readings of the day: Proverbs 2:1-9; Psalm 34:2-3, 4-5, 6-7, 8-9, 10-11; Matthew 19:27-29

“Listen carefully, my child…” These are the first words of the Rule of St. Benedict, whose feast we celebrate today. Who is St. Benedict, and to whom does he ask us to “listen”? What is the goal of our listening?

St. Benedict founded the famous Benedictine monastery in Monte Cassino, in Italy, in the early 500s. He is often called the “father of Western monasticism”; the father of life in religious community as the Church has known it for most of its history. And so as a Basilian religious I have a special fondness for St. Benedict.

“Listen,” St. Benedict begins his Rule, which has influenced the rules of many religious communities including our own Basilian Way of Life. We might say, “Be obedient,” since words like “obedience” are from the same Latin root as to listen. And the Rule of St. Benedict continues: “Receive willingly and carry out effectively your loving Father’s advice, so that by the labor of obedience you may return to him.”

“Listen”; be obedient. These words are for more than religious under vows. They are an invitation to all of us. To whom, then, are we to “listen”; to direct our “labor of obedience”? I believe we are all called not only to listen to the advice of wise people; children to their parents and grandparents; religious to their superiors (although I am sure Fr. Paul1 appreciates this), but first to God. And what is the goal of our listening; our obedience to God? Our goal (all of us, not only vowed religious!) is eternal life; that we “may return to” God.

This is Jesus’ promise to all of us who listen for God; who discern; who “receive willingly and carry out effectively” the will of God in our lives: “Eternal life.” But I have a slight issue with our Gospel reading today, from Matthew. Jesus reminds us that careful listening; obedience is a sacrifice. He hears Peter’s objection: “We have given up everything and followed you. What will there be for us”? And we hear Jesus’ reply to Peter: “Everyone who has given up” material belongings; family “for the sake of my name will receive a hundred times more, and will inherit eternal life.” My issue is not that following Jesus or particularly religious life does not involve sacrifice. It does. But every vocation involves some sacrifice. Might many if not most of us have had in the back of our minds the concern of Peter when discerning our vocation: “What will there be for us”?

My slight issue is that in my experience vowed religious life, poverty, chastity, and obedience, has been much more a joy than a sacrifice. But if we have discerned our vocation from God; God’s will for our lives well, I think it is well for us to enjoy living our vocation: A loving marriage; single life or priesthood given in service to God and our Church; the great community life we Basilians of St. Kateri; that many religious enjoy… These are signs to us now of our ultimate goal and joy, “eternal life,” which God promises to all who listen to and for God; who “receive willingly and carry out effectively” the “labor of obedience”; the vocation to which God has called us.
---
1 Fr. Paul English, CSB, is Pastor and Rector of the Basilian Fathers of St. Kateri Tekakwitha Parish, Irondequoit, NY.

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 Friday, 13 June 2014‒ Memorial of St. Anthony of Padua

Friday of the 10th Week in Ordinary Time

Readings of the day: 1 Kings 19:9a, 11-16; Psalm 27:7-8a, 8b-9abc, 13-14; Matthew 5:27-32

Has there ever been a time when we have had a plan, only to have that plan change? In light of our readings today, we can see that God sometimes has plans that differ from our own.

This was Elijah’s experience of God in our first reading today. We read in the First Book of Kings just before today’s first reading of Elijah having overcome the false prophets of Baal, the false gods worshipped by King Ahab of Israel and by his wife Jezebel. For this, Jezebel becomes furious at Elijah and wants to kill him, so Elijah flees to Mount Horeb, where we find him in today’s reading, and waits for God in a cave. In fact, Elijah is in such despair that he wants to die. But God has other plans for Elijah.

God says to Elijah, “Why are you here?” as if to say, “I have greater plans for you than to hide in this cave, waiting to die.” God sends Elijah out on a mission. Elijah is to “anoint Nazael as king of Aram,” Jehu as Ahab’s successor as king of Israel,” and the prophet Elisha as Elijah’s own successor.

God has other, greater, plans for Elijah: Prophet and missionary. What are God’s greater plans for us, and how do we discern and act on God’s greater plans for us?

As a Basilian associate just beginning to discern Basilian life about six years ago, I had a valuable experience in being open to God’s greater plan for me. A priest of our order responsible for formation announced to me that the Basilians wanted to send me to Cali, Colombia to teach French and English in our high school there. At the time, I spoke no Spanish and had not taught in a classroom before, and so I questioned (although I ultimately accepted) this plan to send me to Colombia.

Today we celebrate the memorial of St. Anthony of Padua, another person for whom God had a greater plan. St. Anthony was deeply moved when he saw the bodies of the first Franciscan martyrs being returned to Italy from Morocco where they had been killed. He left the Augustinians to become a Franciscan, with the hope of becoming a missionary; of risking his life for Christ. Instead, St. Anthony became known for his preaching and clarity in teaching the Catholic faith, and so his Franciscan superiors asked him to stay home in Padua. Because of his preaching and teaching ability, St. Anthony is known as the “Evangelical Doctor.”

St. Anthony wanted to be a missionary; perhaps even a martyr. But God had other plans for St. Anthony, just as God had other plans for prophets like Elijah and often has other, greater plans for us than we can even imagine. And so we are invited to discern: What are God’s plans for us, and are we open to God’s plans, especially when God’s plans differ from or exceed our own?