Last week we spent time trying to get our minds and hearts around the concept of the Trinity—One God in Three Persons.  I suggested that a better way to understand our God who gives prodigally to us is through the heart.  In understanding the theology of Corpus Christi, which is, The Body of Christ or as the feast is now more formally titled, The Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ, but for simplicity, we will stick with the more familiar, Corpus Christi; I would suggest that again we try to leave logical thinking and reasoning behind and enter this mystery too through our hearts.

Three years ago, I used a story about my Dad to help us make sense of this mystery of physical presence and I’d like to repeat that here today as a good model for us. My Dad died in 1986, 30 years ago in August. For the last year and a half of his life, he lived at Lake Winona Manor on the first floor in Room 105.  In those days; it was called the C &R Unit—the C & R stood for Convalescence and Rehabilitation.  It’s curious when I think about it now—he was not convalescing, nor was he being physically rehabilitated; he was dying the slow death of people with emphysema and congestive heart disease.

Even though he couldn’t get physically better, the rehabilitation that I saw going on for him was in a spiritual way.  For the first time in his life; he was given the opportunity of time—time to reflect on what was really important in life and I believe he grew closer to God, to Jesus, his brother, as a result.  He also made it his mission to know who his “neighbors” were in the Unit and to be as kind as he was able, to them.

For all intents and purposes, Room 105 became my Dad’s home for the last year and a half of his life—this was where I went to spend time with him, to reflect on all that life had been for us and our family.  After he died, in the first weeks of grieving his loss;  I had the strange sense that if I wanted to see him; I could go to Room 105 and find him.  Intellectually I knew this was wrong, but on the heart level, it seemed right.

In relationship to this feast, it strikes me that Jesus, in giving us the Eucharist, may have been on the same wave length—using it as a way to remain close once he was no longer physically present.  The bread and wine doesn’t look like Jesus, but it is Jesus, just the same, in our need to have him close—still a part of our lives.  Just like room 105 had become the place where I could find my Dad, the Eucharist is the place where we can find Jesus in a tangible way and be comforted and strengthened by that presence.

We might ask in this line of thinking if the Eucharist has purpose other than comfort.  I believe that Jesus always meant for the Eucharist to be a starting place—the place to receive our strength and then move on into our world, pick up the pieces of life and  carry on with all that he taught us—to share all that he gave us with the world of people that we meet each and every day.

In my preparation for this homily today, as I was reading and praying over the Gospel, it came to me what a gift Jesus gave to the people gathered and he started from something so small, a few loaves and fishes. It struck me that if we each took seriously our mission and call to be his followers, what great things we could do in this world, starting from our small places, our own “loaves and fishes.”

Jesus no doubt intended that we would see and feel his presence within the community here gathered, because if we don’t or can’t see and feel him here, then we can never truly know his presence in the bread and wine either.  In fact, Karl Rahner has said that the presence of Christ in the community gathered precedes the possibility of the presence of Christ in the Eucharistic elements.  It would seem, we can’t have one without the other!

In addition, Edward Schillebeeckx stresses the importance of seeing Christ’s presence as ultimately not toward the bread and wine, but toward the community.  He goes on, “If participants want to understand the Eucharist as sacrament, they should understand themselves first as the Body of Christ.” In this sense, as a wise person once said, and a paraphrase, the Eucharist is really not a static word, a noun, but an action word, a verb, and not to see it this way misses the main point of what the Eucharist is all about.

I always struggle with this homily each year because of those who receive it and wanting to be true to what many of us learned in our growing years concerning transubstantiation, yet wanting too, to stretch us a bit past that notion of worshipping Jesus’ gift of his life in the elements of the altar to moving us out into the community and seeing, truly seeing his body and blood in the faces and life experiences of all we meet each and every day.  My fear with the older theology of transubstantiation is that it has the tendency to plant us in front of the tabernacle, the altar, instead of the community.

Indeed, the Eucharist was always meant to be a starting place, not an ending place.  This is why we say at the conclusion of our liturgies, “Let our service begin or continue!”  And, just like Room 105—at some point, I needed to re-engage in life, to come to terms with my loss, to carry all that my Dad meant to me into my life going forward—he would continue to live on now through my life and my siblings’ lives—through our families—every time we remembered him and chose to live out what he taught us.  When I perform funeral liturgies I always remind the grieving families that they honor their loved one best when they carry on in their own lives what their loved ones taught them about right living.

For Jesus’ followers, all of us, it is all about fulfilling his mission.  Jesus has called all his followers to be his presence in their communities—for us specifically, to see his presence in the greater family of our world—to do all that we can to see that Jesus continues to have a body; eyes and ears, mind and heart in our world.  And we will continue to need the comfort of the Eucharist, the strength of the bread and wine blessed, the unity of the community where Jesus truly becomes present by our collective words and gives us the strength then to take him into the wider community.

In our first reading from Genesis, the old is tied to the new—Melchizadek, an ancient king and priest, in offering bread and wine prefigures Jesus’ offering of his body and blood, his life in its entirety to God for us so that we might know how to do the same.

In the Gospel from Luke, Jesus takes the opportunity of a very large group of physically hungry people to teach his apostles and disciples a greater truth—that he will always be with us to care for all of our needs—to show us primarily that we are loved and that no matter what befalls us, our God will be near.  The feeding of the 5,000 exemplifies the prodigality of our God’s love for us—our God is wasteful with love.  We read, “They all ate until they were full; and when the leftovers were gathered, there were twelve baskets full.” Again, we marvel that he began with five loaves and two fish!

Jesus is always teaching us a greater truth—I have come into this world to live your life, to share my life with you—the very life of God!  I have come to show that you can begin with seemingly little and do great and wonderful things for my people—for my body.  Each of us makes up Christ’s body—we are his flesh and blood for our world. When we partake in the Eucharistic bread; we are transformed into Eucharistic bread for that same world, Diane Bergant says.  When we partake of  the Eucharistic wine; we become the lifeblood of Jesus, following his example in service, in sacrifice, for our sisters and brothers.  We give Jesus the greatest honor and glory, along with the Creator and the Spirit, not in our worship of the bread and wine on the table as an end in itself, but in giving honor, respect, mercy, love, working for justice for the “bread and wine, body and blood of Jesus” in our world.  We honor and praise what the words of consecration do—making Jesus fully present in the form of bread and wine, signaling the next step for us—of taking his flesh and blood into our world through our bodies which become with our reception, Eucharistic bodies.

And of course, it doesn’t happen by magic—we must make a conscious effort to live our lives in such a way as to continue his life of love and service in our world.  We see the “wasteful” giving of love to the 5,ooo—we are expected too, not to just give when convenient or give what is left-over, but to give in abundance, “wastefully”—generously.

It only makes sense rejoicing over the goodness of our God in Jesus if it compels us to give likewise. We may not physically be able to meet every need—but we can be a listener, a supporter, a friend to all.  If we can’t help, perhaps we know of someone who can—maybe we can right a wrong by making others aware—writing a letter, standing up for the truth when we hear the lies that incriminate our sisters and brothers.

The feast of Corpus Christi holds great significance for each of us if we allow its deeper message to arise to the light of day.  Each time we say the words here, celebrating that Jesus is fully present within our community; we recall the covenant that our prodigal God made with the People of God from all time—a covenant made perfect in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus, the Christ—our Brother and Friend.  We, as his body and blood now, for our world, must move into that world and let our service begin!

 

 

Today my friends; we try to get our heads around the concept of the Trinity, which we believe to be our God.  “Mystery” is a good word to describe what we truly can’t understand, at least intellectually.  We are like the apostles of whom Jesus says in today’s Gospel from John, “I have more to tell you, but right now, you can’t understand.”

Perhaps the way to attempt understanding is not with our minds, but with our hearts.  In fact, I am led to believe, with each passing year, that there is so much of life that would be better served through our hearts than through our heads.  Looking through the lens of our hearts truly brings these Scriptures we just shared to life and helps us to shed light on the idea of a Trinity—three persons in one God.  Now, logically of course, this is beyond us—three equal persons, making up one God—fantastic! Or as writer Ann Lamott says, “Wow!”—which is one of her three significant prayers, by the way.  On the heart level, so much more can be seen and believed than through our human minds that, as we know, can be at times, very small boxes.

This year I have been reading a soon-to-be trilogy of books about a great stateswoman of our country, Eleanor Roosevelt.  She was one who very much advocated from her heart for policies that would serve our country’s people in the aftermath of the Great Depression and going forward.

A great place to begin then, on our “heart” journey, looking for the essence of God, is with the beautiful Psalm 8 given for our reflection today.  “When I behold your heavens, the work of your hands, the moon and stars which you set in place—who are we that you should be mindful of us!”  We say that verse with awe and finish it with an exclamation point!  Really, who are we? Our response must be—“We are creatures loved by God!”  The psalm continues, “You have made us little less than the gods…you have given us rule over the works of your hands, putting all things under our feet.”     Another way to say this is that we live and exist on a continuum that includes humanity at one end and divinity at the other—when we strive to be our best selves, we are closest to being divine; “a little less than the gods…”

This is probably my most favorite psalm because it expounds on the down-right goodness of our God—to not only create—give birth to all the beauty in our world, but to share that beauty through giving us life and the awesome task of looking after that life.  We have been blessed the last three years with a pontiff who consistently calls us to this very reflection—the beauty of the earth—its fragility and the need that we care for it.  We are conscious of both the fragility and the strength of our earth as we witness more and more changing weather patterns, the extensive melting of the glaciers and more violent storms and we have to ask how well have we cared for our beautiful earth—the gift of the planet that we live on.

I often think of the beauty of our earth as I take walks through woods on our family farm.  I am enthralled with the many different species of wildflowers and plants, all the creatures scurrying about, seemingly to delight me! We are presently awaiting the annual emergence of some yellow lady slipper plants that grace one of the paths in the woods—they are always a delight to see!  One can hardly look upon the beauty around us and not cry out today with the psalmist—“How wonderful is your name, O God, through all the earth!”

And beyond the plants and animals, the heavens and the earth, there are the people—we and all we associate with each and every day, plus all those that we will never meet, that make up our world and existence.  I like to imagine all that is probably out there in our galaxy and galaxies beyond that I will never see.  How wonderful is all that you have made, O God!

The Wisdom Literature in our first reading today says that the Spirit delights in the children of humankind.  This Spirit is also one who plays like a child.  Does that tell us something of what our stance in this great and wonderful world should be?

We have all delighted in watching a young child discover all that is new and interesting in their world.  There is so much to wonder about.  How would it be if we could be more in awe of life all around us instead of trying to subdue it by our lack of care for it at times?

This calls into question some of the rhetoric that we have had to deal with during the current presidential campaign.  Without being partisan; I mention this only to comment on the tone that has become acceptable not only on the political front but in life in general. In politics, the tone has gone past the issues and attacks persons merely to gain ground and unfortunately, that tone plays to a great many people. What our country stands for is somehow lost when we lower the standards of what is acceptable, when we allow rhetoric to fuel mob psychology that runs over what is best in us.  It is always good from time to time to stand back and ask if we are becoming the evil we say we are fighting against.

The Buddhists call the ability to wonder, to appreciate all that is around us—“mindfulness”—being “mindful” is being attentive to what is present now, in our lives—respecting each other and our world, treating both with care—not worrying about the past or fretting about what the future will bring—just living now—being aware.

I believe that is a piece of the truth about life that John in today’s Gospel says the Spirit wants for each of us to have during our earthly journey—an awareness of the beautiful creation that our Loving Parent, Creator God have given to each of us, wherein we can delight as does the Spirit in playfulness.  Does God ask that we become children again? No, I don’t think so; but maybe that we would rediscover our child-like tendencies again, for wonder, for amazement of all that is about us each and every day—for seeing what is best in each other, lifting that up and debating from that stance, as in the political example.  It is not bad to disagree, but then defend it as intelligent, thinking people with hearts, not debasing oneself to be liked—to get elected.

Perhaps we might acquire a new appreciation for the people who make up our own personal lives—sometimes we are so ready to notice what isn’t just right—how often do we take notice of what almost always goes right, for most of us—the food always present whenever we are hungry, clothes and shelter, friends and family—all so wonderful, yet so fragile, like our earth.  We all know this fragility when we are ill, when loved ones die.  Let us not, my friends, take one bit of the beauty of life for granted—in all of creation, because it can all be taken away so quickly through illness and death.  We should therefore never abuse or disregard any of life.

Human existence isn’t always easy—we all have struggles along the way—we at times get in the way of each other’s dreams—there is sickness of body, mind and spirit that shields us from realizing that we are mightily loved by God, and we simply forget to be present to each and every day.

So what do these ramblings tell us of God on this feast of the Trinity?  Maybe, very simply, that our God is so grand that the goodness can’t be contained in just one person, but must spill over into three! Paul tells us that the Spirit pours the love of God into our hearts—a love so great that it produced Jesus—one to show us the way through the ups and downs of our lives. We as co-creators in our beautiful world know that our love can spill over into new life; physically, emotionally and spiritually. Such a waste when we allow what is worst in us to spill over versus what is best in us.

The NCR—National Catholic Reporter is presently doing a four-part series on Adverse Childhood Experiences (ACE).  They are focusing on clergy sex abuse of children, as that is our Church’s greatest need to address, but they also include all kinds of abusive experiences that children either witness or physically experience: such things as seeing your mother beaten, coming home to a drunk parent, or being physically, sexually or emotionally abused through neglect, themselves.

And of course, it is no wonder that these adverse childhood experiences affect them for a lifetime—in all their relationships and experiences going forward.  The compelling thing to me was to learn of the frequency, the amount of such events in the population.  The Center for Disease Control and Prevention stated in its study that only a little over one-third of the population has had no ACE’s up to age 18.  Just to give us some sense of that, the U.S. Census Bureau in 2014 recorded 245.2 million people over 18, so that is more than 156 million adults with histories of adverse childhood experiences.  Narrowing it down even more—that is every other person in our Church pews who have experienced an adverse childhood experience and some, more than one!

So that helps us to understand when we meet individuals who are withdrawn, angry, unable to stay physically well, addicted to food, drugs—whatever—that there may be more going on behind the presenting traits than we know.  On the other hand, sometimes someone who seems very normal will explode emotionally at a certain point and no one can understand where the outburst came from.  Abuse experienced can be triggered by little things; sounds, certain places, articles of clothing—roman collars for those abused by priests, candles and other religious articles.

So friends, there is much work to be done in our beautiful world, much understanding, mercy and compassion to be given to God’s beautiful people. We are apt to not always recognize the God present in each of us and horrors like all the abuse mentioned here confuse us as how to respond.

Simply put, we must keep our eyes on Jesus to show us the way—remember the love between our Creator God and the First Born Jesus and know that the strength of their Spirit is always with us to call the wrong when we see it, but more so to recognize the good in each person infused with the very love of God.

On this feast of the Trinity then, let us praise our good God in all her/his manifestations and ask for all that we need to live and to love—to be our very best selves; more aware, more compassionate, more truly followers of our brother Jesus, in the love and generosity of the Creator and through the guidance of the Spirit.

 

 

The Church gives us a special sequence prayer to pray on Pentecost Sunday, but this year I would like to share a new one written by Bishop Bridget Mary Meehan of our sister organization, the Association of Roman Catholic Women Priests.  This prayer says well I believe what each of us needs to remember and to do as we welcome the Spirit more fully into our lives on this Pentecost Sunday.

Spirit  of Love, your overflowing love permeates my being and all creation.
                  May I love all with your tender love.

Spirit of Compassion, your comfort embraces me and gives me strength in times of sorrow and stress.
                  May I walk with those who are hurting and who need a friend. 

Spirit of Healing, your healing energy is within me and within all,
                  May I be an instrument of peace, in communion with all beings.

Spirit of Affirmation, your splendor shines through each person,
                  May I affirm others through my words and actions. 

Spirit of Life, you are moving in me, in everyone and in everything.
                  May I/we grow and evolve in Pentecost Passion and joy!

Bridget Mary Meehan, ARCWP, www.arcwp.org

    We marveled I’m sure listening to the reading from Acts at all the manifestations of power that those first disciples exhibited and we almost dream for those times when we could do the same—when the Spirit would touch us in that same way.  But my friends, we do have that same power; we just must use it!

A Rochester Franciscan, whom some of you may have known, Margaret Pirkl, died on March 19 of this year and she was known among other things for her writings and teaching on The Cosmic Christ.  She, as well as others who have taught this concept say that the Cosmic Christ can be “defined as that aspect of God which pervades all of creation,” the Christ who “fills the universe in all its parts” (Ephesians 1:23), as was indicated in Bridget Mary’s opening sequence.

Simply put, there is nothing in our world that is not immersed in God and so if we take that mindset to heart; we can do no less than treat all of creation; animals, plants and humans with deep love and respect.  I am called to task in my personal life when I have to deal with spiders, snakes and mice—but I am a work in progress! (:  In the past two weeks, we needed to take down two large trees in our yard that had died and I found myself with each one, as they were cut down, thanking them for their lives, for the beauty, shade and joy they had brought—treating each with the respect such a living creature deserves. I have yet to deal better with the spiders, snakes and mice.  And I am called to task as well with my lack of generosity toward those humans that I disagree with.

But Pentecost is a time for gratitude.  A couple of times each year; we get away in our camper and discover anew, much that we are grateful for. The “getting away” affords us the time to simply rest and reflect on all that we are thankful for; among them are life, love, family, friends, support—opportunities to serve and give back a bit of what we have been blessed with by our loving God. Pentecost calls us to such reflection.

Our response this Sunday from Psalm 104 asks the Spirit to, “Renew the face of the earth.”  Our Church is in the midst of a great upheaval and clearly, renewing is needed. The People of God are asking for a Church that is more alive, more vibrant, more filled with the Spirit, one that recognizes God’s gifts in all the People of God, women as well as men, gay as well as straight,  asking for a Church that accepts and loves all people as God loves them, regardless of gender, sexual orientation, age, illness, weakness, or any other roadblock we set up that proposes to make some of us better than others.

Many times Pentecost is called the birthday of the Church because it was on that day, blessed by a power beyond themselves—the holy Spirit of Jesus, that the apostles finally went public—they left the Upper Room that had become a place of hiding, to meet the world and proclaim without fear that Jesus had lived, died, rose from the dead and now lived eternally with the God of all life—to state in fact that he had forever changed their lives and the lives of everyone!

These disciples and friends of Jesus, were now armed, not with swords and spears as one would expect if they were to physically take over a nation—take their land back from the Romans, as many of these first followers thought that Jesus, as the Messiah would do. No, these disciples were armed with the strength and power of the very Spirit of God.  Their tools to conquer evil and renew the face of the earth were the gifts of language, spoken in a way that all could understand; the gift of words to preach as Jesus had, opening the hearts and minds of all who heard them. And ultimately this language was all about love—a love big enough to include everyone.

The Scriptures tell us that these disciples were filled with joy to move out in truth and love, to share Jesus’ goodness, mercy, and justice with all that they met.  And we know that they brought many into the Church that first day—they were irresistible to all who met them, heard them, saw them—they were authentic, they were true and people wanted what they had!  And again, we reflect, why can’t that happen to us?—and again I repeat—it can, my friends—it can!   We only need to live as Pentecostal people!

Joan Chittister tells a wonderful story of just how this is done. She makes a point of saying that the particulars, time and place, aren’t as important as the story itself—it’s a story for all times and places.  It seems that this story took place in New York in a busy airport where people were rushing from one flight to another—some across the country and around the world, some just from city to city, some just in a hurry to get home.  In the busy-ness and rush, a local vendor selling fruit had her stand upended and the fruit, oranges and apples were everywhere.  The vendor, a woman, cried out and got to the floor and in a sweeping motion tried to gather the fruit and salvage what could be.  A passerby, a man, seeing her distress, slowed his rush to help the woman.  As he slowed down, he became aware—the woman vendor was blind. He took out $40 and put it into her hand saying, maybe this can help with your loss. The woman cried out in response, “Are you Jesus?”

I think it might be good to take some time today to think about the day we ourselves were confirmed.  Hopefully, it was a special day in your life, one when you resolved to live anew, to share with others what had been so graciously shared with you—to perhaps see beyond your life to the lives of all those around you that you encounter each and every day.  The gifts of the Spirit are always within us.  Maybe today might be the day to revisit what the Spirit living within us really means, and then to act accordingly.

In the story I shared from Joan Chittister, she finished her comments by reflecting on the blind man, Bartimeus from the Gospels. When Jesus asked him what he wanted, Bartimeus simply said, “I just want to see!”  Friends, people we meet/encounter every day want to see too, want to believe that they aren’t alone, that others do care; they just want to have hope that life can be better.  This is where I began today, with the hope that each of us has for a life that is about goodness, caring and sharing—people standing up for each other. This is what Pentecost calls us to,as each of us was called to when we were confirmed in our faith.  The woman vendor, blind physically, but certainly not blind spiritually recognized goodness when she experienced it and asked if her (savior) was Jesus. Hopefully, our actions will cause others to wonder, even proclaim, if we are Jesus too!  May we each be blessed to become Pentecost people, today and always!  Amen? Amen!