Monday, June 10, 2019

Homily for Monday, 10 June 2019– Memorial of the Blessed Virgin Mary, Mother of the Church

Readings of the day: Acts 1:12-14; Psalm 87:1-2, 3, 5, 6-7; John 19:25-34

Monday of the 10th week in Ordinary Time

What is the most important ministry in the Church?

My doctoral research in Paris is focused primarily on the development of ordained priestly ministry and how the Church expresses and understands the ministry of priests through its ordination rituals since Vatican II. Yet I am fascinated by the diversity of officially-recognized ministry, of both women and men, dating back to the earliest days of the Church. Very early in the Church, there were not only bishops, elders (or presbyters, the forerunners of today’s priests), and deacons, but women and men consecrated to focus their lives on particular forms of service for the good of the Church and the world. And then there were orders of virgins and widows, the minor orders (which persisted until after Vatican II) of porter, lector, acolyte, and exorcist, all with official rituals to install people into those ministries.

But do any of us notice that, in all this diversity of ministries, there is not and has never been a ministry of mothers officially recognized or marked by a formal ritual in the Church? This, I think, is why our Church’s veneration of Mary, mother of Jesus, under many titles, devotions, and feast days, is so significant. Not only is Mary celebrated as “Mother of God,” particularly on the first day of each calendar year, January 1, but since just last year Mary has been celebrated throughout the whole Catholic Church as “Mother of the Church” on this, the first Monday after Pentecost.

The Church herself is often called “Mother Church.” But what aspects of motherhood—the motherhood of Mary, the motherhood of the Church, the motherhood of mothers among the Church’s faithful—do we celebrate with this feast of Mary, Mother of the Church? How do these aspects of motherhood we celebrate on this day apply not only to Mary, but to each of us, whether we are actual mothers or not?

The portrayal of Mary, mother of Jesus and mother of the Church, “standing by the cross” in John’s Gospel from which we hear today, coupled with the specific mention in the Acts of the Apostles of Mary’s presence among the apostles and disciples of Jesus in “the upper room” in Jerusalem after Jesus’ ascension to heaven, stand out to me.

In both places, Mary shows motherhood to be a ministry of “standing with”; of praying with; of solidarity and empathy with those who are joyful; those who are waiting with hope; those who are suffering. This is a ministry to which each of us is called, sisters and brothers, whether or not we are actual mothers.

The motherhood of Mary, mother of the Church; the motherhood of the Church itself; the “motherly” ministry of each member of the Church’s baptized faithful, is a ministry that intentionally seeks out somebody to stand with and pray with and for, as Mary did beneath the cross and then in the upper room. Does each of us know somebody who is suffering in any way? Do we know people whose faith needs strengthening? Do we know anybody who is joyfully and energetically doing great work to better the Church or the world, who could benefit from our prayer and more vocal and deliberate recognition?

These are a few ways in which we could and maybe already do exercise our motherly ministry as Church. These are but a few ways in which we might emulate Mary, Mother of the Church, ways in which we stand and pray with one another, in times of joy as in the upper room and in times of sorrow as at the foot of the cross. Mary, Mother of the Church, pray for us.

Sunday, June 9, 2019

Homily for Sunday, 9 June 2019‒ 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 14:15-16, 23b-26


This homily was given at St. Kateri Parish, St. Margaret Mary Church, Rochester, NY, USA.

A proverb I heard not long ago says this: “If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together.” How might this proverb speak to our culture, including how we understand and live as Church? What might this kind of proverb have to do with Pentecost, which we celebrate today?

If I were to ask us when each of us thinks the Church began, historically or otherwise, how many of us would answer, “At Pentecost”? But then what is (or was) Pentecost? What is Church and why?

Might the readings we have heard today give us a clue toward the answers to these “brainstorm”-type questions? Fifty days after Jesus had risen from the dead (which is the meaning of the word “Pentecost,” fifty days), the Acts of the Apostles says to us that Jesus’ apostles, if not a larger group of Jesus’ disciples, those who had followed Jesus during his public ministry, passion, death, and resurrection, “were all in one place together.” It was at this point, when Jesus’ disciples “were all in one place together,” when the Holy Spirit descended upon them “like a strong driving wind” and in “tongues of fire.”

The rest of this account of Pentecost we hear from Acts also speaks of togetherness among the disciples of Jesus and an even larger group of “Jews from every nation under heaven” gathered in Jerusalem at the time. But this togetherness was not and could not be a too-simple and artificial uniformity. The group that witnessed to this first Pentecost, the birth of our Church, was too large and too diverse to be so uniform. All these different people from all over the world would witness together, but each “in their own tongues” to “the mighty acts of God”; to the power of God’s Holy Spirit; to the birth of a Church.

Does this not sound a lot like the Church today; like our reality here in Rochester and at St. Kateri? “If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together.” I do not believe that proverbs like this are meant to be a criticism of those who “go alone” in our Church or civil society, or in our St. Kateri Parish for that matter, as if acting together is always better than acting alone; as if going far is always better than going fast.

The rightful diversity within the Church will forever welcome the faithful who view change in the Church—in decisions made at various levels of Church leadership, the people who lead, or sometimes even the teachings that guide and result from those in leadership—as more often good, and the faster the better. And the same rightful diversity within the Church will necessarily welcome those with usually the opposite view, who are wary of change or who stress caution or consensus before allowing change; who prefer going far to going fast; going together to going alone.

Instead of serving as an indictment of people with either view, I think our experience of Pentecost, in a similar way to that first Pentecost of which the Acts of the Apostles speaks to us today, has two effects on the Church and on us as the Church’s faithful. First, our experience of receiving the Holy Spirit, our experience of Pentecost, puts in right order these two complementary movements in the Church of going alone and therefore faster, and of going together and therefore farther. Second, our experience of Pentecost purifies our intentions behind preferring either to go alone and therefore fast, or together and therefore far, or a bit of each preference depending on our particular circumstances of life.

Our experience of Pentecost, like the very first experience Jesus’ disciples had of Pentecost, rightly orders the desire or movement in our same Church toward going together and therefore far, versus the desire or movement toward going alone and therefore fast. We hear of this right ordering in our readings today. The Holy Spirit first draws all this diversity of peoples together, so that they will be able to go far once they are sent out by the same Spirit, not in spite of but precisely because of their diversity. But the diversity of these earliest disciples of Jesus is a diversity whose unity is safeguarded by the grace of the Holy Spirit, and the same is true of the Church today. The same Holy Spirit who once drew together the diverse peoples of the earliest Church draws us into this “one place together” so that we may honor and celebrate together our diversity held in unity by the Holy Spirit. We may not be “Parthians, Medes, and Elamites, inhabitants of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the districts of Libya near Cyrene, as well as travelers from Rome, both Jews and converts to Judaism, Cretans and Arabs.” But we are from East Irondequoit, West Irondequoit, elsewhere in greater Rochester, New York State, or beyond; rich, poor, and middle class; ideologically left, right, and center; people who prefer more pre-Vatican II liturgy or post-Vatican II liturgy, and so on, all called to this “one place together.” We might only want to be wary of letting in certain Canadians who study in France; they may be a little suspect…

Only once we have been drawn together by the Holy Spirit into the unity of “one, holy, catholic, and apostolic Church” in this one celebration will we be able to set out, each in the particular ways in which we are called, to proclaim the Gospel, “glorifying [the one] God by our lives.” Only by learning by celebrating here and now our “going together,” our being “in one place together,” will we then be effective, if not sometimes surprisingly fast, if and when the Holy Spirit calls us to “go alone,” each putting our individual or unique gifts to the service of the same Gospel, remaining faithful to our unity as Church.

In John’s Gospel today, Jesus reinforces this point: To learn by celebrating our “going together” is necessary if and when the Holy Spirit, who keeps us together as one Church, calls us within this Church to “go alone”; to exercise our more particular or unique gifts at the service of the Gospel. In the same discourse as when Jesus promises his disciples the Holy Spirit, “another advocate to be with [us] always,” Jesus says to his disciples, “If you love me, you will keep my commandments… Whoever loves me will keep my word.” My sisters and brothers, love; keeping the commandments of Jesus, first among which is to love one another as Jesus has loved us; keeping Jesus’ word: These are not individual actions that we accomplish without any grounding in community; as one Church that gathers together to hear and celebrate God’s word in our Eucharist, together. To keep Jesus’ commandments, to love, presupposes our gathering “in one place together.” In fact, God himself is a communion, a “togetherness” of three distinct persons (more on this next Sunday, when we will celebrate more specifically the Most Holy Trinity).

Yet togetherness, unity, communion does not stifle diversity, individuality, uniqueness of spiritual and other gifts. In fact, our unity reinforces and honors our diversity, individuality, uniqueness of gifts. Our Pentecost experience of the Holy Spirit not only puts in right order the complementary movements in the Church of going together and therefore farther so that we may be able to, if necessary, go alone and therefore maybe faster, but also our Pentecost experience of the Holy Spirit purifies these two seemingly opposite movements, so that indeed they are complementary and will never stifle each other. As 1 Corinthians says to us today, we remain “one body though [with] many parts. We receive “different spiritual gifts” by “the same Spirit.” We perform “different forms of service” by the grace of our “one Lord” and God.

By “going together,” we gain the strength and unity we need for when we are called to “go alone.” As Church, we breathe with two lungs. Our unity and then our diversity are inspired by the same Spirit. Insofar we gather “in one place together” to celebrate this, we will both “go far” and “go fast,” because our Pentecost experience empowers us to do both.

Thursday, June 6, 2019

Homily for Friday, 7 June 2019– St. Kateri School Mass

Readings of the day: 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18; Responsorial Psalm: Mass with Children; Matthew 5:13-16

Friday of the 7th week of Easter

How many of us here like to eat the occasional salty food or snack? What are some of our favorite salty foods?
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One of my favorite salty foods is tortilla chips. If tortilla chips are anywhere near me, I can very easily eat more of them than I probably should.

Yesterday morning I visited a few of your classrooms here at St. Kateri School. This brought back wonderful memories of when I was living here at St. Kateri Parish and would visit your classrooms and greet you at the front door most days. For four years now, which is way too many tortilla chips ago, not to mention other salty French foods like Paris’ own ham and butter sandwiches, I have been living and studying in Paris, France. One class I visited yesterday asked how old I am. When children ask me this question, I like to play a little game in which I ask the children to guess how old I am. No, I am not 103 years old… But I am probably at the age at which I should be more mindful of eating a good variety of healthy food: Not too much, not too little, not too sweet, and not too salty. The tortilla chip habit is difficult to break, though.

In fact, no matter how old we are, all of us could afford to be mindful of eating what we call a balanced diet. But in our Gospel today, from Matthew, Jesus asks us to do, or actually to be, something even more important than eating the right amount and kinds of every food, and not too many tortilla chips. Does anybody remember from the Gospel we have just heard: What, or who, does Jesus ask us to be? Who does Jesus say we already are and need to be more and more?
…
Jesus says that we “are the salt of the earth” and “the light of the world.” What does Jesus mean by calling us and asking us to be “the salt of the earth” and “the light of the world”? God could have made us as great big light bulbs if God had wanted us to be light, or maybe those LED bulbs; they use less energy and are better for the environment, anyway. If God had wanted us to be salt, he could have made us as giant tortilla chips! Okay, that is not quite what Jesus means, but then how are we to be salt and light in our world?

In Jesus’ time, salt was very important for just about everything. It was used in food so it would not spoil, because there were no refrigerators back then. Salt was even used to pay people for their work, in place of coins and paper money. This is where the word “salary” comes from, to describe what somebody earns at her or his job. Even today, when we speak of people who are “worth their salt,” this means that they are to be trusted or do valuable, honest work.

Speaking of light, we started today’s Mass by singing the hymn, “We are Marching in the Light of God.” I especially love this song, because I learned it not only in English but in its original language, Zulu, while singing in a choir when I was in high school: “Siyahamba, ku-kan-yen’ kwen-khos, siyahamba, ku-kan-yen’ kwen-khos.” Not too many years ago, in South Africa, where this song comes from, this hymn was originally a song to protest the racism in much of the society and government there: People with dark skin were treated unfairly by people with lighter skin, because of the color of their skin. They could not buy land to farm to feed their families. They could not find work; could not “earn their salt,” so to speak, so the people protested by marching and singing peacefully, by “Marching in the Light of God.” And this worked to build a peaceful country with much less racism, violence, and injustice.

How, then, might we be called to march “in the light of God,” to be “salt of the earth” and “light of the world”? Here at St. Kateri School, do we not begin our day by praying for one another in our classrooms over the announcements, especially for people in our school community who are in any kind of need, who have experienced loss, who are hurt or sick? In our classrooms, do we ever notice our classmates who need extra help on their schoolwork; who need a friend; who need somebody to listen to them? How many of us, when we enter the school in the morning, hold the front door for the person entering behind us? These are a few ways in which we, at St. Kateri School, might be, as Jesus says we are and asks us to be even more, “salt of the earth” and “light of the world.”