Homily for Sunday, 15 June 2014‒ Solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity

Readings of the day: Exodus 34:4b-6, 8-9; Responsorial Canticle: Deuteronomy 3:52, 53, 54, 55, 56; 2 Corinthians 13:11-13; John 3:16-18

Have any of us ever experienced the extraordinary ability of some children to grasp and express in basic terms what is mysterious to many if not all adults? The Most Holy Trinity that we celebrate today is one of these mysterious beliefs of our Christian faith; a truth that defies our words and our images.

This solemnity we celebrate today reminds me of my time as a children’s sacramental catechist in Toronto while I was in seminary. One day, a seven-year-old child was asking me deep questions like, “How can there be only one God, and yet we talk about God as the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit?” In preparation for the following week’s class, I asked the children to draw on a blank sheet of paper the first thing that came to mind when they thought of the Father. Then, they were to draw the first thing that came to mind when they thought of the Son, and then repeat this activity when they thought of the Spirit.

The children presented their drawings the next week. Most of the children had drawn an old man surrounded by clouds (maybe on a fancy throne in the sky) to represent the Father. Then, most drew a young, handsome bearded man on land as the Son, and then a dove, flames, or cartoonlike lines of wind to represent the Spirit. Then, one child sheepishly carried up to me a still-blank sheet of paper. He gave the paper to me saying, “I don’t get this!” Instead of scolding this child for not doing the activity I had assigned, I consoled him, saying that he probably had a better understanding of the Trinity than me or than his parents. In fact, his blank page is still the best answer to this activity I have ever seen!

The Most Holy Trinity‒ one God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit‒ defies our words and images. And yet we experience God both as one and as three persons: Father; Son; Spirit. How can this be?

We experience God as a God of relationship; a God of mercy and a God of love. This was Moses’ experience of God that we hear about in our first reading from Exodus. God, the Book of Exodus says, first “came down” to Moses “in a cloud.” God then “proclaimed his name to Moses: “LORD.” In this encounter and in this name, “LORD,” somehow Moses understood that the one God is a God of relationship; a God of love; a God of mercy.

Our God is not a God who sits on a distant throne in heaven and says, “You’re on your own.” Our God is not a God who, when we encounter him, condemns us for our sin, who scolds us for being a “stiff-necked people” who cannot grasp just who our God is; a God who would say, “That picture you drew in First Communion preparation looks nothing like me!”

No, when Moses pleads with God for his wayward people; when we draw near to God in prayer; when we worship as one faith community at Mass; when we act with love and mercy toward one another, God receives us “as his own.” God receives us into relationship with him. God strengthens our relationships with one another. Our God of relationships; our God of love; our God of mercy is marvellous in this way, but it remains a mystery as to how God can be both three and one.

In Exodus, Moses experiences God as one. Moses describes God in a variety of ways: “a merciful and gracious God, slow to anger and rich in kindness and fidelity.” But for Moses our God has just one name: “LORD.”

In his Second Letter to the Corinthians, Paul, too, first describes what God is before doing his best to name who God is, one God and yet three persons, Father, Son, and Spirit. Paul describes God as “the God of love and peace.” What, then, are the values and actions of a God of love and peace that Paul encourages us to live out? Paul writes: “Rejoice. Mend your ways” that are not of God; that do not respect human dignity and community. “Encourage one another; agree with one another; live in peace” Paul continues… “Greet one another with a holy kiss” of peace. But then who is this God of love and peace who invites us to take up these values and actions? God is identified in many ways. Moses’ one name for God, “LORD,” becomes for us a threefold name for our one God: “Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.” From St. Paul we have a greeting in the one name of the Trinity that is often used to begin our Mass: “The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ and the love of God and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with all of you.”

St. Paul invites us through his writings and through this greeting to act in ways that strengthen relationship, not only because we are, as human, relational creatures, but because God, in God’s oneness is also mysteriously a God of relationship; a God in relationship with us as well as a “God of love and peace” among Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

Because our “God of love and peace” is a God of relationship, both among the three persons of the Trinity and with us, that love and peace must be directed toward another; toward the world; toward us. God does not keep God’s love and peace to himself; God is experienced by us, a creature capable of experiencing relationship with God and with one another. Is this not extraordinary, even if it defies explanation; words; images?

We experience God as simply “LORD.” We experience God as “the God of love and peace.” We experience God as three distinct yet inseparable persons: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. We experience God, as our Gospel from John says, as the God who “so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish but might have eternal life.” God’s Son, the second person of the Most Holy Trinity, became a relational human being like us, to save us but also to relate to us both as divine and now as human.

This is our God, love at its fullest. This is our God, the Father who gives us his only Son for our salvation and then fills and makes holy our world with God’s Holy Spirit. This mystery defies our words and images. We are left, like children, in awe with a blank page at the God who is beyond our grasp but in relationship with us always. We believe in this mystery; this truth because we experience God as one and as three; singular yet in relationship. This, our Most Holy Trinity, our God, is indeed a most extraordinary mystery; a most extraordinary relationship; the most extraordinary love.

Homily for Saturday, 14 June 2014‒ Our Lady's Saturday

Saturday of the 10th Week in Ordinary Time

Votive Mass of Mary, Mother of God

Readings of the day: 1 Kings 19:19-21; Psalm 16:1b-2a, 5, 7-8, 9-10; Matthew 5:33-37

Have you experienced or do you know someone who has experienced a difficult, even distressing, moment in your or their life, and yet maintains deep serenity, prayer, and trust in God?

I imagine the author of today’s Psalm composing this Psalm amid a difficult time in his life. And yet this Psalm and our response is one of trust in God’s presence and providence: “In you I take refuge… O LORD, my allotted portion and cup; you it is who hold fast my lot… Therefore my heart is glad and my soul rejoices; my body, too, abides in confidence… You are my inheritance, O Lord.”

On this, Our Lady’s Saturday, we may remember each week our Blessed Mother, the model for us of trust in God even in times of trouble; times of difficulty; even times of distress. Her having brought the Son of God Jesus Christ into our world was one of these difficult situations for both Mary and Joseph, to whom she was betrothed to be married. And yet at the incarnation, Jesus’ becoming human in her womb, Mary trusted in God: “May it be done to me according to your word.” These words are similar to those of our Psalmist in how they express trust in God: “In you I take refuge… You are my inheritance, O Lord.”

When she visited Elizabeth, who was pregnant with John the Baptist, Mary prayed the prayer we know as the Magnificat: “My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord…”

“My heart is glad and my soul rejoices; my body, too, abides in confidence,” the Psalmist prays.

Mary’s heart remained glad and as it pondered God’s plan for her and for the salvation of all of us in Christ. This plan included Christ being born and living among us as a human being, dying, and rising for us. This plan included the joyous, the sorrowful, the glorious, and the luminous mysteries. Throughout Jesus’ life, the heart, soul, and body of Mary his mother; our mother abided “in confidence” with God.

When we face times of difficulty or even of distress, or when we are joyful and all is well in our lives, God invites us to pray as Mary did and as the Psalmist did with trust in God’s presence and providence: “In you I take refuge… O LORD, my allotted portion and cup; you it is who hold fast my lot… Therefore my heart is glad and my soul rejoices; my body, too, abides in confidence… You are my inheritance, O Lord.”

  

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?   

Homily for Thursday, 12 June 2014– Ferial

Thursday of the 10th week in Ordinary Time 

Readings of the day: 1 Kings 18:41-46; Psalm 65:10, 11, 12-13; Matthew 5:20-26

How many of us have ever been angry with another person? I suspect that most of us, at one time or another, have been angry with another person, often someone we love dearly.

Anger, especially when it is against someone close to us, can be distressing; can weigh on our consciences. How many of us, after having been angry with someone, have thought: Did my anger go too far? In my anger, did I fail to recognize the dignity of the person against whom I am angry? Am I holding a grudge or behaving in a passive-aggressive way? Were my angry words and actions sinful? Maybe I should seek reconciliation with the person with whom I am angry; maybe apologize if I were in the wrong. I may want to receive the sacrament of reconciliation (which is always a good idea, especially if we have not celebrated this beautiful sacrament in some time)…

Jesus says in our Gospel reading today, part of the Sermon on the Mount in Matthew’s Gospel, “Whoever is angry with his brother” or sister “will be liable to judgment.” Jesus does not say that being angry is itself sinful; only that anger may lead us to sin if we hold onto it and do not seek reconciliation with the one with whom we are angry.

Jesus goes on to say in today’s Gospel reading: “If you… recall that your brother [or sister] has anything against you… go first and be reconciled with your brother [or sister], and then come and offer your gift.”

Anger itself, then, is not a sin. We know of instances in our Gospels in which Jesus himself got angry. But the way in which deal with our anger insofar as whether we seek reconciliation or not with those with whom we are angry may or may not be sinful.

I find it especially remarkable in the Gospel reading we hear today that Jesus asks us to be pro-active in seeking reconciliation with those with whom we are angry. Let us hear Jesus’ words again: “If you… recall that your brother [or sister] has anything against you… go first and be reconciled with your brother” or sister. Go first; do not wait for the other person to make the first move toward communication; toward reconciliation. Instead of thinking primarily of what we have against our brother or our sister, Jesus asks us first to think of what our brother or sister may have against us; for what we are called to express sorrow and to seek repentance. Anything short of this is an excuse; is a barrier to reconciliation and may well be a near occasion of sin.

Have we ever been angry with another person? I suspect that most of us would answer “yes” to this question. We are human; anger is part of being human. Jesus himself got angry. But how many of us have pro-actively sought reconciliation with someone who has made us angry or when we have angered another? This is what Jesus invites in our Gospel us to reflect upon and to put into action: Go first and be reconciled.

Homily for Wednesday, 11 June 2014‒ Memorial of St. Barnabas

Wednesday of the 10th week in Ordinary Time
 
Readings of the day: Acts 11:21b-26; Psalm 98:1, 2-3ab, 3cd-4, 5-6; Matthew 5:17-19

What is the mission of an apostle of Christ, and how are we entrusted with this mission to be apostles of Christ? We may think of an apostle as one of the original Twelve in our Scriptures. Sometimes we may include people like Matthias, who filled the role of Judas Iscariot after Christ had ascended to heaven, and Sts. Paul and Barnabas in our list of apostles. Literally, the word “apostle” simply means “one who is sent.”

Today we celebrate the feast day of St. Barnabas, an apostle; the one chosen to assist St. Paul and the early Church at Antioch; one who was sent, as we hear in our first reading today from the Acts of the Apostles, from Jerusalem to a rapidly-growing Christian community in Antioch. What are some of the ways in which Acts describes the apostle St. Barnabas?

We hear that “he was a good man, filled with the Holy Spirit and faith.” These are vital qualities of an apostle of Christ; to be “filled with the Holy Spirit and faith.” Barnabas arrived in Antioch, where we hear that “he rejoiced and encouraged” the people of Antioch “to remain faithful to the Lord in firmness of heart.”

These are two more vital qualities of an apostle of Christ. How, then, do these words used to describe Barnabas relate to us? How are we, like Barnabas, called to be apostles of Christ?

We began this week with last Sunday’s celebration of Pentecost; of our receiving of the Holy Spirit into our Church; into the hearts of every one of us. Pentecost is our great reminder that we, like Barnabas and like every apostle; every teacher; every prophet; every baptized Christian, is “filled with the Holy Spirit and faith.”

Because we are all “filled with the Holy Spirit and faith” as Barnabas was, we are entrusted in a sense with the mission with which Barnabas was entrusted. We, like Barnabas and like every apostle, are sent to rejoice and to encourage one another. We are sent to take and to give out everywhere we go and to everyone whom we encounter this gift of the Holy Spirit that we have received. In this sense we are all apostles of Jesus Christ.

Let us also take to heart the last words of our Mass that we will hear in a few moments. We end our Mass with words of sending forth: “Go forth, the Mass is ended” or, “Go and announce the Gospel of the Lord” or, “Go in peace, glorifying the Lord with your life,” or simply, “Go in peace.”

We have been filled with the Holy Spirit and faith and then we are sent out. “Go.” We have a mission given by our baptism; given in the very words of our Mass; given by the example of St. Barnabas. And so we have all the vital qualities of apostles of Christ.