Homily – 12th Sunday in Ordinary Time

My friends, the readings for this Sunday really call us to consider how strong our faith is, and if we place that faith in our loving God who at times, can feel somewhat, “intangible,” or do we place our faith in the more “tangible” things of this world—people, material possessions, and so on?

   The characters in today’s readings from the Old and New Testaments are having this same struggle, so looking at their experiences can perhaps guide our search. 

   We all know the story of our Old Testament brother Job, which isn’t included in today’s 1st reading, but knowing that story helps us better understand the text that we do have today. Job, as we know has lost all that was important to him in his physical life; wife, children, animals, his health, and at one point, even the respect of his neighbors who couldn’t understand why he would not turn his back on his God who in their minds had caused all of his loss, or if not, certainly didn’t stop it!

   In today’s 1st reading a voice rises above the storm, answering Job’s question of where God was in all this turmoil.  God’s simple answer to Job is—“I have been with you always!”  My friends, our struggles throughout life often call us to this same question—“God, are you there, do you care that I am suffering?”

   God’s answer, spelled out to Job in this 1st reading should be taken to heart by us as well—“If I could control the chaos that creation was, I can control and support what is happening to you as well!” 

   We don’t fully understand why suffering happens in our lives and if truth be told, most of us would just as soon, it pass us by.  It is one of those things that we can only see in an unclear way—around the edges, as Paul speaks of in another place. 

   I always find that looking to our brother Jesus, to see how he reacted to what his life brought, gives me strength to do the same. In his humanity, as his life was ebbing away on the cross, his struggle to keep believing that his God was, “still with him” is expressed so poignantly in the words, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” But through his patience, and his prayer, we know that Jesus’ faith was sustained, as in the end, he could say, “Into your hands God, I commend my spirit.” 

   With Jesus, as Paul tells the Corinthians in the 2nd reading today, “the old order has passed away…now everything is new!”  Jesus was constantly looking at his world, turning things upside-down when needed to insure that everyone had a chance at a full life.  He asked and continues to ask today that his followers do more, be more, but at the same time, he doesn’t ask more of us than he is willing to do himself.

   I am presently reading a quite, wonderful, new book about Jimmy Carter by Jonathan Alter.  The title is, His Very Best: Jimmy Carter, A Life.  There came a time for this ex-president, who had always considered himself quite religious, when he was compelled to move to a new place in his religious/spiritual life.

   Being from Georgia, he grew up and into manhood during a time in the south when the racism that undergirds our nation was coming to the forefront, demanding justice.  Being that Jimmy had many political aspirations, he often straddled the fence, not speaking publicly about what, in his heart, he knew to be wrong—it was often a delicate dance for him even after his faith told him that he couldn’t just “talk,” but had to “walk” what he supposedly believed. Jimmy found the words of a Baptist minister at this point in his life most compelling.  The minister asked, “If you were arrested for being a Christian, would there be enough evidence to convict?” 

   My friends, faith for each of us can be a slippery thing—Paul prayed during his life— “I believe O God, help my unbelief!”  Our humanity gets in the way for us just as for the apostles in today’s Gospel from Mark.  They are dealing with their life-long nemesis, “the sea” and they are afraid.  And to make matters worse, their friend and teacher, Jesus, whom they have seen heal and care for others, is asleep!

   It is almost comical to read, even in its seriousness, as Jesus—now awakened by his fearful followers, asks them, “Why were you so frightened?” (Where’s your faith?)  I too find myself convicted by Jesus’ question, “Have you no faith?” As we all know, “faith” is most often easier to talk about, than it is, “to have, to act upon, in times of trouble.  But then Jesus does, what Jesus always does—he calms, he reassures, he brings peace, and the apostles can only marvel, and hopefully we can too when we are afraid—“who is this that even the wind and sea obey?”

   Sister Ilia Delio speaks most beautifully in her book, The Emergent Christ about “this something new” that Jesus is doing in the lives of us humans who are trying to believe.  As the “Christ,” Jesus, she says, becomes so much more in our lives, and to so many more than as “Jesus” alone.  As the “Christ,” Jesus is basically, big enough to be meaningful to all, showing all human creation how to become all that we were meant to be, and in fact, she calls that, “heaven.”

   Jesus, through the calming of the sea, shows his apostles and us a greater truth—no matter what befalls us, with God by our side, we have no need to fear.

   And my friends, with that assurance, we can do the good in our world that Jesus did in his, and when we are afraid, especially if it feels like we are standing alone, we must remember that we aren’t—that he is right there with us.

   This is the real Eucharistic revelation that needs to happen in our world—that we, each of us becomes “the bread, the body of Christ here, now! Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, our Jewish brother spoke well to the issues of where is religion today—why it is declining, and I will end with his words, which I have shared in the past, but which bear a re-hearing:

       It is customary to blame secular science and anti-religious philosophy for the

        eclipse of religion in modern society.  It would be more honest to blame religion  

        for its own defeats. Religion declined not because it was refuted, but because it

        became irrelevant, dull, oppressive, insipid.  When faith is completely replaced by

        creed, worship by discipline, love by habit, when the crisis of today is ignored

        because of the splendor of the past, when faith becomes an heirloom rather than a

        living fountain, when religion speaks only in the name of authority rather than

        with the voice of compassion—its message becomes meaningless.

Amen? Amen!    

Homily – 11th Weekend in Ordinary Time

My friends, all the readings for this weekend are mostly quite positive in speaking about our relationship with our loving God, especially in the person of our human brother, Jesus, who became the Christ.  Paul tells us in the second reading to the Corinthians that “we walk by faith, and not by sight,” and we realize how true this is, especially in the statement that I made above about, “Jesus becoming the Christ!”  We do truly take this on faith that indeed our God is big enough to be “meaningful” to all, in all—as the Christ!  Now, if our Church hierarchy could be more inclusive in how they look at who God may indeed be!

   The images given us in each reading are about “growth” and what happens, or can happen when a power (God)—Someone, or something is alive and well in our lives.  Ezekiel speaks about this force as the Cedars of Lebanon, as does the psalmist in the selection from #92 today.  Cedars were large, massive, and strong trees in their time, akin to “God” in their lives—able to protect and care for them. 

   Mark’s gospel speaks of the mustard seed which is said to be the “smallest of seeds,” yet grows into the “biggest of shrubs,” and even the “birds of the air nest there.” 

   Now, we probably can all agree that these reading selections for today should not just be taken on a merely surface level, because then what we have is simply some nice stories about how trees grow. No, God and God’s prophets have more in mind for us. 

   Ezekiel’s first reading can be taken as a great comfort in our attempts to follow Paul’s command that, “we walk by faith.”  The prophet Ezekiel tells us that “the tall trees, God stunts, while the low trees, God makes grow.”  Perhaps a statement on how our God will always lift up the “lowly” first! And the psalmist suggests, seemingly in agreement with Ezekiel that “the just will flourish like the palm tree.”  The psalmist continues, “Our God is just, my Rock…[who protects].

   So again, so much here in these readings about “who God is for us, how this God will be present to us, and with us, how God wants us to live, and how this same God will protect us.  I would encourage a re-reading of Ezekiel’s reading this next week if we are needing comfort in “walking by faith,” when we don’t have full “sight.” 

   I am sure each of us can look back at times that required us to “walk in faith,” when we weren’t sure of the outcome, and perhaps we would say that God’s Spirit was with us, giving us the strength to move ahead when we couldn’t yet see the outcome—times when we made life choices, for education, marriage, having children, purchasing a home, and so on. Each of you, along with me, “walked in faith,” in starting and participating in this parish—one that the hierarchy of our Church often called, “playacting.” For me, I have always looked at what we do here by its “fruits,” and as long as I see us growing spiritually and doing the good that God calls each of us to, we will continue. 

   In Mark’s gospel for this weekend, the mention of that “smallest of seeds,” the mustard seed, is such a wonderful way to think of something “small” –the invitation from our loving God, to do something capable of becoming life-giving in so many ways, such as our beloved AAO experiment here in Winona. 

   This past week, I had the opportunity to travel back, as it were, in my memories to a time as a young, married woman with small children, when I was part of a rural parish—Immaculate Conception—Wilson, the parish where Robert and I married each other over 50 years ago now, and had our children baptized.  The passage of time with the deaths of many over the years, changing spiritualities, the clergy abuse crisis, and other matters, caused the numbers attending to dwindle, to the point that the powers-that-be determined that it was no longer a viable parish, and with the shortage of male priests, could no longer be kept open.

   The church was officially closed two years ago and has been used since as an oratory, for funerals mainly, but weddings too.  The meeting this past week was to determine what, practically speaking, needs to be done with the church building going forward. 

   I was saddened to realize that the over-riding decision seems to be that the building will be taken down—demolished possibly within the next year.  I don’t say this with any animosity per se toward those wanting/needing this end, as I haven’t been an active member there for many years, but only in a general way toward our Church that doesn’t seem to be more creative, in its many church closures, of its “temples” housing so many wonderful, memorable, and poignant spiritual memories of a community, than to simply, tear them down.  Where are the pastors, leaders, filled with “mustard seeds” who might see such situations as “closed buildings” and envision “greater shrubs” of new life? –offering perhaps spaces to house the homeless, or as fixer-uppers for just the right family. 

   It is at times like this that beyond, “walking-in-faith,” that I also need to have “hope” that our “better angels” perhaps can break through in our world.  We need such a Church as well as a State, where actions such as our United States Supreme Court voted on Friday—to appeal the ban on bump stocks for semi-automatic weapons making them ever more deadly, would be looked at more through a lens of common sense, and goodness, than mere law.  Let us pray friends this week for more life-giving actions, as well as write letters demanding better of these “interpreters” of the law.  And finally my friends, in these times that try our faith so much, let us hold onto hope for each other, me for you, you for me, and keep on planting the “small seeds” that we know can and will grow!  Amen? Amen!

Homily – 10th Sunday in Ordinary Time

My friends, as I said in the bulletin, we are back to Ordinary Time, which our Church names as such because it represents an in-between time that is not about the major times of Advent, Christmas, Lent and Easter, but as we know, if we are trying to “walk in Jesus’ footsteps,” it is not, “ordinary” at all! This time brings challenge with every week! 

   We only need look to this Sunday’s Scriptures to realize the truth of this.  The first reading from Genesis lets us know that it is very much the human condition, when something goes wrong, to look for blame in someone other than ourselves.  Looking within ourselves is always a challenge—what part of this is mine is a question that we need to routinely ask. 

   “Fear” is another human condition or reaction that we often experience when “wrong-doing,” or “something out of the ordinary” takes place, and we are at the center of the apparent conflict.  We see our brother Jesus, who we confess to follow, in calling ourselves “Christians,” facing this dilemma today.  The locals are saying that he is probably “possessed” in curing people, so his brothers and sisters and mother go to rescue him. 

   His family, along with the locals are challenged to see that Jesus’ words often are pointing to a “bigger picture” than what the words say.  Of course, he is not denying his physical family, his mother and his siblings, who in many ways are partially responsible for the man he has become in his relationship with them. No, Jesus is teaching a larger truth; “those of you who are willing to challenge yourselves, becoming the best that you are capable of, for yourselves and for others, become to me, in a special way, my sisters, my brothers, and my mother!”

  Unfortunately, for many humans, we don’t want to “stand out,” or “be different,” because punishment, physical, or worse, at times, emotional or spiritual punishment may be a consequence of our brave, different, or lone action.  Again, unfortunately, our Church hierarchy uses “fear” in the face of actions that they don’t understand, or more so, haven’t sanctioned.  I would suggest that “fear” plays a part in the present push with the Eucharistic pilgrimages which are attempting to move our beloved Church backward instead of forward. 

   This year, as we remember our beginnings 16 years ago, I recall being personally threatened (fear) with the loss of episcopal endorsement to serve as a Catholic-certified chaplain, a needed piece, by the way, for a lay person to be certified with the National Association of Catholic Chaplains, and eventually with excommunication from the Church that I have been faithful to for my entire life, if I didn’t recant my ordination as a priest.  And all of you, simply by attending Mass here are supposed to consider yourselves, excommunicated too—these words came from retired Pope Benedict XVI.  In choosing not to “recant,” me and you are saying to the powers-that-be that in the end, we choose, “love” over “fear.”  Fear keeps us from doing what love calls us to do. 

   Our brother Jesus, in today’s gospel asks an obvious question of the “powers” in his time:  “Why do you assume that when someone comes in strength and goodness, that it has to be about the devil?” One of the “fears” of the original bishop who asked me to recant, was that I would “be confusing the faithful.”  There was never the thought, as with our brother Jesus, that I, along with him, might be doing anything good. 

   So my friends, with you as well, when you question whether you can, or should speak, or act in a certain way that is against the status quo, you must always, as Jesus has told us, “check the fruits,”  –always look at how “love” is being served,” because, in the end, it can’t just be about the law! Our present-day bishop, Robert Barron won’t sit down and talk with us because we won’t recant, and it is hard for me to see this as anything but law over love.  Why, as with Jesus today, does our “holy presence,” which again, I humbly suggest that we are in this community, that has served many over the past 16 years need to be looked at negatively, rather than positively? 

   The psalmist today gives us hope in this prayer: “I trust in you O’God… and my soul waits for you more than sentinels wait for the dawn.  For with you is kindness and plenteous redemption.”  St. Paul, a tentmaker by personal trade, gives us a wonderful image today as we strive to follow our brother Jesus, the Christ, “when our earthly tent is folded up,” “may thanksgiving overflow” within us [because of the] “grace that is reaching more and more people—to the glory of God,” due to the strength and goodness that we allowed to happen in our lives through love.  Amen? Amen!

Homily – Corpus Christi

   My friends, today’s liturgy brings us to the 3rd of three, rather hard to understand, in other words, “get our minds around,” themes presented to us in this interim between Easter and a return to Ordinary Time in our Church Year.  And once again, it is best to come at this theme of the “Body and Blood of Christ” as with the other two, Pentecost, and Trinity Sundays, through our hearts, as our minds aren’t expansive, or flexible enough to take in what I believe our God wants us to “get” here. 

   Now if we were to stay on the surface of today’s theme, “the Body of Christ,” as do many in the teaching authority of our Church, we would spend most of our time considering the “real flesh and real blood on the altar, and consider what we do here at Mass, each time we do it, as a reliving of Jesus’ death on the cross and not much more. Apparently, this is the prime intention of the National Eucharistic Conference coming up in July in Indianapolis. 

   And granted, that takes a great deal of faith to imagine the “bread and wine” in that way, as real flesh, and real blood, if the only purpose is to somehow get ourselves to believe what our minds tell us, is just not so.  And please, don’t get me wrong; I am not denying that Jesus is fully and miraculously present here in the bread and wine, on our table of thanksgiving, but I don’t find it necessary to place “that presence” in a teeny, tiny box of physical elements, especially when that focus keeps us from moving out, and seeing that wonderful presence in others and our world.

   I believe that our brother Jesus had this totally bigger, more expansive view for all of us when he said, “This is my body, [all that I taught and modeled for you] this is my blood, [all that I am doing for you in living and dying to let you know how much my Abba loves you] and do this in memory of me!”  We must remember that these words come within Jesus’ priestly prayer, the night before he died, where he asked our God to bless his followers, and by extension, that includes us, with a sense that “they would try to be one, and find a place in their lives going forward, to include everyone,” as for our brother Jesus, these, and all of us, are his “Body and Blood” and the ones he wants us to “worship” –or better said, “care for.” 

   That first “Eucharist” was simply the starting place where the apostles, disciples, and all of us received a physical, everyday sign, “bread and wine”—the stuff of life, meant to help us recall all that Jesus taught us through his earthly life, through his very, “body and blood” poured out, in action for us.  So, my friends, I guess what I am trying to say is, we shouldn’t merely look at Corpus Christi Sunday as a noun wherein we worship Jesus’ physical “body and blood,” but as a verb that moves us to recognize in others and all of creation, “his body, his blood,” and care for it.

   We don’t receive much help through today’s chosen readings from Exodus, Hebrews, or Mark in seeing this greater mission of ourselves being Jesus’ “body and blood” in our world—living as he did in order that our lives are more often than not, about seeing him in others. 

   These chosen readings are basically showing us the history of the “Chosen” people in understanding their relationship with God—one that was about “atonement for their past failings through animal sacrifice that would be “made perfect in the sacrifice of Jesus.” 

   And if we “stay there,” in this mindset, then it is all about, a one-time action that basically calls us to do nothing in our life’s journey but be “grateful.”  If that was all that the Incarnation was about, then I don’t think that says much that is good about our God! 

   But, if Jesus was meant to show us through his “body and blood,” basically his life, how we then could also be his “body and blood” in the world, then we are talking about a God who really loves us in an over-the-top way. 

   I would much rather use my time and energy attempting to see Jesus’ physical presence in our world, where unfortunately, it is too often denied, then to somehow recognize that “Jesus is physically present” in the elements on an altar for a select group who believe all the rules and regulations.  I believe our brother Jesus would much rather we “worship and care for him” in the immigrants at our southern border, in all the homeless and hungry not only here, but around the world, in those abused because of race, gender, or any other impediment we can think up to discount folks, than in the physical elements on an altar.

   But, let’s go back to today’s Scriptures, as I always feel we need to start there, and allow the Spirit to show us the “good, and not so good.  From the Exodus reading, if we simply take the idea that our God is making a covenant, or promise with these “chosen” people to be their God, and they in return, will be God’s people, which, by the way, includes us all as Jesus so clearly stated during his physical lifetime.  We don’t need to “get lost in the weeds” here with all the animal sacrifice.

   If we jump ahead to the psalmist in 116, we get quite a different sense about, “who” God is for them: “What return can I make to the Most High for all your goodness to me?”  And again, “Precious in your eyes is the death of your faithful.” 

   My friends, it is hard to bring this homily to a close, because this feast day in our Church is about so much, “profound stuff,”  that we can never truly understand, and thus I believe, we shouldn’t necessarily try so much “to understand,” but simply, “to do.”

   Corpus Christi Sunday is really about seeing our world, and its people, as much as possible, as God does, and then, love all, “wastefully” as Bishop John Shelby Spong has so rightly said of our God! Amen? Amen!

Homily – Trinity Sunday

My friends, this week we are called to ponder the second of three themes after Easter,  before returning to Ordinary Time.  This theme is hard to get our heads around, and as I always suggest, in such cases, it is best to come at these issues through our hearts—as someone said, “the heart is wiser.” 

   So, our theme today, to ponder, is that of a “Triune God” –or three distinct persons, Creator, Savior/Revealer, and Spirit—all in one entity.  At face value, it does seem “wise” to come at this “wonderful dilemma” with all of our abilities, to shed as much light and intelligence, plus, understanding that we can find, in making sense of this. 

   In my mind, besides intelligence, and heart, it will take a great deal of faith to entertain the notion that our Loving God has all these capabilities:  that of creating, revealing, and a healing—protectiveness in Spirit, and to such a degree that each capability shows itself as an individual being—person!  Now, that’s the wonder part—let’s look at what that means in our everyday lives.  Scripture is always a good place to start. 

   As I read and ponder the scriptures for this feast, I see a collective and general theme of our God wanting to be close to us, wanting us to know “who” the Creator of all life, including us is, and that this “creating force” wants, in the end, to simply share life with us, wants us to take our one, precious existence, and grow to our potential, and be willing to share that potential with others. 

   The first reading from Deuteronomy says this:  “Know this today, and take it into your hearts, your God is God indeed, in heaven…and on earth—there is no other.” I think it is significant here that we read, “take this into your hearts” to know who God truly is, as the Old Testament people were known for “chasing after” all manner of “gods” who seemed more powerful than they were.  From the chosen readings today, we see that  our God wants us to consider a relationship that is about love given, and received, and then shared in like manner. 

   Our God will not be one who imposes, “power over others,” but one who “loves powerfully,” in order that we, each of us, will be strengthened and encouraged to, “return that love” through our ministry to others in the world.  The psalmist in 33 says of it, “The Creator loves justice and right and fills the earth with love.”  Our prayer then, with the psalmist must be, “May your faithful love be upon us, … as we place our hope in you.” 

   Our “Salvation History” as we long spoke of it, prior to the Second Vatican Council, was so much about, “awaiting a Messiah” who we might say, “would come and save us from ourselves.”  Our Loving God let us know, through prophets galore, that we were loved and expected to love in return—the words of the prophet Michah are probably most familiar to us:  “Act justly, love tenderly, and walk humbly with your God.” 

   Yet we, as a people, continued to get “stuck” in “small boxes” of understanding—devoid of “heart,” so that we missed the one, over-riding message that our God wanted us to get—we are loved and are part of “God’s family,” as “beloved children,” as Paul speaks of it today in his letter to the Romans.

    Thus, it was then important that our Loving God would become present in the person of Jesus, who became the Christ, by showing us, once and for all, just how “to do” the “human thing”—that in the end, it was all about love—not redemption, or punishment spared, but simply, “over-the-top love” for God’s beloved creatures!  Jesus showed us this so beautifully in the stories of the Prodigal Child and the Good Shepherd, among others. 

   When our brother Jesus became the Christ, all humanity then had a common link, and never again, would any of us need to feel alone—Jesus sent his Spirit, the 3rd of the 3 persons of our wonderful God-head to be with us. 

   Thus, when Jesus left us physically, he laid out quite clearly what our task as members of this great family would be—share this, all that you know, and have seen me do and say! 

   So, as always, my friends, we come back to our everyday lives—we ask for faith strong enough to believe what our minds can’t truly fathom, but which our hearts can more fully comprehend.  And with all faith, we come to believe that “hope” in all that we are capable of, is part of this too. 

   Additionally, as we heard in today’s alleluia verse from Psalm 8, in the face of “over-the-top,” or as Episcopal bishop, John Shelby Spong is fond of saying, “wasteful love” of our God for us, our stance must be humility:  “Who are we,[in all the heavens and the earth] that you should be mindful of us?”  Yet, our God is! 

   I will end then today with two concrete examples from this past week that show us a bit of the way to go in living out our one, precious life in the presence and shadow of, a God who loves us in a “triune” way. 

   You may have had the opportunity this past week to watch on CBS Nora O’Donnell’ s interview for 60 Minutes with Pope Francis.  Now, while I still take issue with this human male, who can’t seem to get past his cultural “machismo” where women are concerned, he is doing some ground-breaking work where popes of the recent past are concerned in encouraging our Church and world to open-up, and at least attempt to include as many as possible.  And understandably, he suffers criticism in his attempts. 

   Nora got into many current-day issues with Francis, and he shared his belief that, “people are fundamentally good,” but went on to say that “the inability to change,” when change is needed, holding onto, “teachings and traditions,” that no longer serve, is “dogmatic suicide” [!]  He also spoke of a “globalism of indifference,” naming too many of us as, “Pontius Pilates washing [our] hands” of any responsibility.  He named the stance of “zero intolerance” within the clergy to hear differing views as being in a “doctrinal box” which he called, “madness.” 

   But the highlight of the interview for me was when Nora asked Francis about “surrogacy” as a way to bring children into the world.  Francis was clearly against the procedure for a number of reasons to which Nora had what I would call, “an intimate moment” with him, where she smiled, and responded, “but for some, Holy Father, it is their last chance.”  Francis had the “presence of heart” to thank Nora as he noticed, “the care” on her face as she said what she did. 

   Therefore friends, as we ponder today, a God who comes to us, in several different ways, basically showing us that “we are loved,” let us respond in kind to God and our world to the best of our ability…Amen? Amen!