St. Monica Catholic Church: Recent Episodes
Father Stephen Hamilton
Homily for the Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading 1 Zechariah 9:9-10
Responsorial Psalm Psalm 145:1-2, 8-9, 10-11, 13-14
Reading 2 Romans 8:9, 11-13
Alleluia Cf. Matthew 11:25
Gospel Matthew 11:25-30
Solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity
Proverbs 8:22-31; Ps. 8; Rom. 5:1-5; Jn. 16:12-15
15 June 2025
On the Solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity we commemorate the central and fundamental mystery that we receive and accept in faith. We can say that our faith in the Trinity is the “mystery of mysteries” because it is a mystery about the very being of God Himself and, as such, is the center and foundation of everything else we believe. The mystery of the Holy Trinity expresses our faith in how God exists, what His inner life is like – not just that He exists. This aspect of our faith is something purely of God’s revelation, that is, His showing of Himself to us. In other words, no human mind on its own would come up with the concept that the one God exists as Three Persons, were it not for God revealing this about Himself. For this reason, I think we can say that this expression of our faith is a prime example of how we Catholics are obedient to the Sacred Scriptures. I say that because the language of the Scriptures can help us understand why we accept in the obedience of faith this notion that God is one being in three divine Persons, a notion that is barely comprehensible to our minds.
Jesus’ own words give the first indication of a relationship that he has as Son with the Father. By those very words, we can see how the Church would believe that in God there is something more than an isolated, solitary life. Rather, there is a Father and a Son. We hear today from St. John’s Gospel. Listen to a selection of remarks from Jesus in other parts of the same Gospel. I think they reveal some of the foundations that led the Church, under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, to eventually give shape to, and to define, how we think God exists in Himself. Jesus says, “Whoever has seen me has seen the Father…. Do you not believe that I am in the Father and the Father is in me” (John 14:9, 10)? Here not only are two relationships in God revealed, but also a clear indication of some type of oneness, for the Father and Son seem not to exist as two physical beings side-by-side, but as one in the other. In John 16:28: Jesus says, “I came from the Father and have come into the world. Now I am leaving the world and going back to the Father”. Relational language that supports our faith that God is Trinity gets stronger in John 17 in Jesus’ prayer at the Last Supper. He says, “Now glorify me Father, with you, with the glory that I had with you before the world began” (John 17:5). There is a complete sharing of everything between the Father and the Son as we hear in these words of the Lord, “everything of mine is yours and everything of yours is mine” (John 17:10). A strong revelation of the unity within God comes again as Jesus prays to the Father that the disciples may be one “Just as we [Father] are one” (John 17:11). This unity language continues further on in John 17 “that they may all be one, as you, Father, are in me and I in you, that they also may be in us…. That they may be one as we are one” (John 17:21-22).
But we learn still more in that the Lord’s words also reveal another relationship in God: The Spirit of truth. That is what today’s brief Gospel selection shows us. The Lord says of this Spirit, “Everything that the Father has is mine; for this reason I told you that he [the Spirit] will take from what is mine and declare it to you” (John 16:15). In other words, we learn that just as Jesus, the Son, has received and shared everything from the Father, likewise the Spirit of truth will take from this common treasury. The Spirit shares in the “everything” of the Father and the Son; the Spirit does not speak a different revelation. In time, this “Spirit of truth” would come to be understood as the Holy Spirit, the distinct third Person of the Trinity. In fact, that unfolding understanding of the Third Person of the Trinity that developed in time sounds rather like what Jesus himself said, “I have much more to tell you, but you cannot bear it now. But when he comes, the Spirit of truth, he will guide you to all truth” (John 16:12-13).
Now, I have sort of bombarded you with Scripture passages such that, if you weren’t aware that the Bible is a Catholic book, you might be tempted to think you had walked into a service at one of the many denominations that dot the landscape! But I have shared these brief selections from Scripture to show the reason for why the Church would come up with an expression of faith like the Blessed Trinity. The reason is not some arbitrary ivory-tower concept, but obedience to, and serious reflection upon, what the Scriptures reveal. With all this in mind, that’s why I say that this mystery of the faith is a prime example of the humility by which we Catholics express the obedience of faith to God and to the Scriptures because we accept what our minds cannot grasp. And we accept it because it has been revealed by God. And God cannot deceive.
Therefore, we observe today our belief about God, that He is one divine being, one divine substance, and that within Himself are three distinct relationships of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Each Divine Person is co-equal and co-eternal. They are not a division of substance, rendering each somehow one-third God, nor are they somehow three gods. Rather, they are undivided in the unity of divine substance, yet distinct in the three relationships within the one Godhead.
I want to leave you with something about the Blessed Trinity that I hope you can take directly into your prayer life as a disciple, something that I hope will be more simple and practical. Elsewhere in St. John’s Gospel, Jesus says this about what the Holy Spirit will accomplish in disciples when he is sent. “On that day you will realize that I am in my Father and you are in me and I in you” (John 14:20). When we respond to this gift of the Spirit and love the words and commands of Jesus, he says, “Whoever loves me will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our dwelling with him” (John 14:23). No matter how much our minds can or cannot grasp of the mystery of the Holy Trinity, we have the astounding promise that we disciples are brought into the unity of the Divine Persons of the Blessed Trinity! Provided we love and keep the Lord’s words, we receive the Father’s love and the Trinity comes to dwell in us. Let this impact your own personal prayer. We frequently begin and end our prayers marking ourselves with the sign of the cross as we call upon the Persons of the Trinity. Why not take a few moments to directly acknowledge the presence of the Three Divine Persons in your prayer? Really. Even verbally. You could say: I acknowledge you God the Father my Creator here with me. I acknowledge you present God the Son who have taken on flesh to show me the nearness of God. I acknowledge you God the Holy Spirit who come to dwell within me. Distilled down to its most basic lesson for us, our faith in the Holy Trinity teaches us that God is not a “force” or an “energy” or an “abstract idea”. Rather, God is relational and personal. Begin your prayer acknowledging and expressing faith in that presence with you, near you, even in you, of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. For we are told that if we come to love and to keep the word of the Lord, God Himself comes to dwell in us and to make His home in us!
In Ascensione Domini
1 June 2025
The Church proclaims and believes the saving effects and value of what is called the Paschal Mystery. The Paschal Mystery is the fulfillment in Jesus of the saving acts of God prefigured in the major events of the Old Covenant. The Paschal Mystery is the new Passover by which the one, perfect, unblemished Lamb of God is offered for the sins of the world throughout all time. The Paschal Mystery is the new Exodus by which the Lord frees believers from slavery in the kingdom of sin and opens a path, himself leading the way, so that we are guided to the Promised Land of Heaven. The Paschal Mystery is the joining of heaven and earth such that what we experience here of God’s grace in the earthly sanctuary is a copy and a foreshadowing of the heavenly realities where Christ has entered in his resurrected flesh into the heavenly sanctuary to intercede for us before the Father.
There are four elements to the Paschal Mystery. They are the suffering, the death, the resurrection, and the ascension of Jesus. By virtue of being transferred from its normal liturgical date this past Thursday, marking forty days since Easter, today we are observing this fourth element in the Paschal Mystery: the Ascension of Jesus. It is a curious mystery, and one that often is sort of forgotten among the other three elements of the Paschal Mystery.
The Ascension shows the Lord Jesus to be priest, prophet, and king of the New Covenant. We see the allusions to this threefold office of the Lord in the Gospel and other scripture passages. Today’s selection from St. Luke hints at the kingship of Christ in that he led his apostles out to Bethany. It was in that village on the Mount of Olives, as Jesus was approaching Jerusalem to die, that the people acclaimed him as king and he then made his triumphal entry into Jerusalem. The Gospel selection also hints at the Lord’s identity as prophet. Earlier in St. Luke, at the transfiguration, the great prophets Moses and Elijah had appeared conversing with Jesus about his exodus. Like Moses, Jesus in the Ascension is coming to his departure, his exodus from Jerusalem to Heaven. Like Elijah, his departure is marked by his being taken up into Heaven, from which place he will bestow a powerful sharing in his very Spirit. The Gospel selection also hints at the Lord’s identity as priest. In Bethany, before ascending, we are told that Jesus raised his hands and blessed the apostles. This is a clear priestly gesture, something like Aaron is known to have done, and which priests still do today when imparting a solemn blessing over the people.
It is this identification of Jesus as the Eternal Priest of the New Covenant that helps us understand the ascension and how it connects the earthly sacrifice of the Cross to Heaven, thus making it an eternal sacrifice for all time, the saving power of which we then encounter and have made present to us at every Holy Mass. The identification of Jesus as the Great High Priest stands out powerfully in the ascension. God the Son is the Eternal Priest of the New Covenant who comes to offer the one perfect sacrifice that saves all mankind. As Priest, God the Son prepares Himself in the womb of Mary, as in a “sacristy”, and vests for the sacrifice that saves us by vesting not in robes, but by vesting Himself in our human flesh. Upon vesting, the Lord begins his procession, moving through various events of life and places as he makes his way up to the mountain of sacrifice on Calvary. Vested in our flesh, he offers the perfect saving sacrifice on the altar of the Cross. It is perfect because He is God and He can offer something more valuable than any one of us can do. It is a saving sacrifice because by virtue of offering our very flesh, we ourselves are incorporated into that sacrifice that is an atonement for our sins. On the Cross, Jesus is both the perfect priest making the offering and he is the very offering itself, making an offering to the Father in our flesh and with power to resurrect. Upon completion of the sacrifice (and the resurrection being the sign that the sacrifice was accepted by the Father), the Risen Lord does not shed his vesture, but goes forth in triumph as priest to take this one saving sacrifice into the perfect sanctuary of the temple of Heaven. There, still vested in our flesh, the Lord stands before the throne to intercede for us. It is from Heaven that our Great High Priest joins the sacrifice of the Cross to the eternity of Heaven, thus making his sacrifice of eternal value, and constantly poured out for us. The sacrifice of the Cross, then, is not just a sacrifice limited in time to one historical moment. Rather, it is eternal and the Lord has no need to offer sacrifice repeatedly, as we heard in the Letter to the Hebrews.
This identity of Jesus as the Eternal High Priest, seen so powerfully in the Ascension, touches directly on our Catholic life. In the Holy Mass, the Lord is not sacrificed again and again. Rather, the one perfect sacrifice, eternally present before the heavenly throne, is something we access and have re-presented to us through the Lord’s Catholic Church and through the instruments the Lord uses by the priesthood in his Church. Vested as priest in our flesh, the Lord went up Calvary and mounted the altar of the Cross to offer the perfect sacrifice for our sin. In the Ascension, we celebrate that vested as priest in our flesh, the Risen Lord makes his triumphal entry into the heavenly reality, the sanctuary of Heaven. There, our Great High Priest brings the sacrifice of the cross and makes it an eternal offering.
With this in mind, we can understand elsewhere in the Scriptures the Lord’s words to his apostles that it is better that he go. With this in mind, we are not saddened by the ascension and we do not think of ourselves as somehow abandoned. With this in mind, we believe that the value and the saving effects of the Cross are poured out to us in every time and place, especially in the Holy Mass, where the priesthood of Jesus in his Church makes present to us the same one, perfect, and eternal sacrifice of the Cross. At the Ascension, the disciples were led east of Jerusalem to Bethany where they saw the Lord taken up and were told he would return in just the same way. Where the traditional posture is maintained in the sacred liturgy, as we do at our parish, we all face the same way together, facing either literal, or at least, symbolic east, looking for and awaiting the return of the Lord. Why is this a posture in all ancient Christian liturgies? Because ascending in the east, as we heard in the Acts of the Apostles, “[t]his Jesus who has been taken up from you into heaven will return in the same way as you have seen him going into heaven”. Yet, also like the disciples at the ascension we know that we cannot only gaze at the sky. Rather, we must open ourselves to receive power from on high with the gifts of the Holy Spirit, so that in this life and through this world our witness and our sharing of the good news draws others into the procession and exodus of our Great High Priest, leading us all to follow where he “our Head and Founder has gone before” (Preface I of the Ascension).
Homily for the Solemnity of the Ascension of the Lord by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading I Acts 1:1-11
Responsorial Psalm Psalm 47:2-3, 6-7, 8-9
Reading II Hebrews 9:24-28; 10:19-23
Alleluia Matthew 28:19a, 20b
Gospel Luke 24:46-53
Dominica V Paschae C
18 May 2025
The Gospel passage today takes us to St. John’s account of Jesus’ extended discourse at the Last Supper. In this brief selection the Lord refers to his apostles both as children and disciples. Calling them “children” is curious because they are full grown men. Using that term can serve as a signal that something unique is going on here. The Lord is claiming the disparity in the relationship to his apostles. He is God. And in that relationship all people, no matter their age, are his children. The apostles are also “disciples” which is the word for “student”. The apostles, as disciples, as students, had some distinct advantages over us present-day disciples, students of the Lord. They lived directly with the Lord and learned from him. They witnessed his miracles. But, we also have some advantages that they did not have. We benefit from the rich reflection of a more than 2,000-year tradition in the Catholic faith of diving deeply into all the things we must study and learn. We have a rich body of thought that can guide us with resources that were not available to the apostles. The Church has weighed in on so many experiences of human life and struggles and the resulting counsel and teaching also instruct us. I think this gospel passage can serve as a paradigm for the advantage that we have. I say that because you and I, present-day disciple-students, hear this passage already knowing the historical fact of Jesus’ suffering, death, resurrection and ascension. We hear this passage and we rest on so much reflection about what the Lord was doing both at the Last Supper and afterward. The apostles did not have that advantage. They heard these words before the historical events took place and likely may not have been aware at the time of the import of these words, when considered against the backdrop of the passion, death, and resurrection of Jesus. For them, this passage took place in the context of a Passover ritual. For us, with the advantage of history, we know that this Passover ritual was altogether unique and new. It was the initiation of a new covenant which the Lord commanded be done in his memory. And so today, we gather at the Holy Mass knowing that our catholic faith tells us that we experience here in sacramental form the very gift of the sacrificial love of Jesus that was offered on the Cross. That gift of the sacrificial love of Jesus is a living gift because by virtue of the resurrection, it is the Lord’s living and resurrected Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity that is offered in sacramental form in the Holy Eucharist.
Signaling that something different and new is taking place by calling grown men his children, the Lord also calls them to be his students. He claims his divine right by adding to the commandments. This should catch our attention. Who would or could add to the commandments, but God? The Lord says, “I give you a new commandment: love one another.” His command and his teaching of these his students is quite specific. How are they to love one another? “As I have loved you, so you also should love one another.” The new commandment is to love one another as Jesus himself loves. Whatever the apostles would have thought about how Jesus loves in that moment and at that supper, can any of us doubt that these apostle-students learned something altogether new with clarifying precision the next day as they saw him on the Cross? This new commandment is no easy, sentimental command. If you keep the crucifix before your eyes you know how it is that Jesus loves. It is a call to sacrificial love. It is a command to lay down your life for the good of another. Jesus also says elsewhere that no one has greater love than to lay down his life for his friends. The cross, sacrificial love, leads to the resurrection. We do not have the resurrection without sacrificial love.
We are the Lord’s present-day students. We also are his children. We hear this Gospel passage already holding onto the knowledge of what happened after the Last Supper (the suffering, death, and resurrection), but still this is no easy or sentimental commandment for us either. We have the advantage of so much reflection and learning that the apostles did not have when they first heard this new commandment. But, whatever advantage that may be to us, does not absolve us from the difficult work of loving sacrificially as Jesus loves. What did we hear in the second reading? “It is necessary for us to undergo many hardships to enter the kingdom of God” (Acts 14:22).
That work of dying to ourselves in order to love sacrificially is hard work and a lifetime’s work. We are called to die to selfishness and self-absorption. We are called to die to our own opinions that would place us apart from the communion of the Church. We are called to die to claiming sovereignty over ourselves, but rather to see ourselves as children of the Father and subjects of the Kingdom of Christ. We are called to die to those desires that are bad and sinful, and even to die to good things to which we may have a disordered and excessive attachment. We are called to put on the mind of Christ. We are called to deny self and pick up the cross. In short: We are called to be Christ! For only in being united to Christ as members of his Body will we be able to follow the path to our own resurrection.
Did you notice that the Gospel passage began by telling us that Judas had already left the Last Supper? He never heard the new commandment. When you consider what Judas symbolizes, that can signal to us that serious sin and hardness of heart prevent us from hearing and receiving the new commandment. And it certainly impedes our ability to love sacrificially as Christ loves. Thus, confession and absolution restore our proper life and place us again as children and students at the feet of Jesus, so that we can learn from his style of love.
Finally, notice the full force of this new commandment. The Lord says that loving one another as he loves, loving sacrificially, “is how all will know that you are my disciples”. We really need to think about that. You see, it is not in claiming the label “disciple” or “Christian” that others will know to whom we belong. It is not by others knowing that we go to St. Monica and are registered and active here. It is not in having some catholic bumper stickers on our car. It is not in religious emblems we might wear. It is not in the collection of crucifixes and crosses we have. It is not in the religious books on our shelves. As fine and valuable as all of those things may be, it is not by these that others will know we belong to Christ in a convincing and converting way. Jesus says that it is in living this new commandment to love as he loves, to love sacrificially, to die to our fallen nature and to live united to him – this is how all will know that we belong to the Lord and are his disciples.
Here at the Holy Mass, with the advantage of thousands of years of lived discipleship we know ourselves to be participating in the very paschal mystery of the Lord. It is the participation in his suffering, death, resurrection, and ascension by which he completed a new exodus, leading us from slavery to sin and to newness of life in the Promised Land of Heaven. Here we are renewed by the Sacred Scriptures and the Holy Eucharist to be partakers of the sacrificial way the Lord loves us. In listening to his Word and in worthily receiving this Sacrament we continue to learn as disciples so that we are changed and strengthened to love as the Lord loves us.
John of Patmos watches the descent of New Jerusalem from God in a 14th-century tapestry. Extracted from the Tapestry of the Apocalypse of the Château d'Angers, France. PUblic domain
Homily for the Fifth Sunday of Easter by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading I Acts 14:21-27Responsorial Psalm Psalm 145:8-9, 10-11, 12-13Reading II Revelation 21:1-5aAlleluia John 13:34Gospel John 13:31-33a, 34-35
Remarks on the Election of Pope Leo XIV
At conclusion of Masses
10 & 11 May 2025
This Fourth Sunday of Easter is commonly referred to as “Good Shepherd Sunday” because the Gospel comes from John 10, referring to sheep and to Jesus as the Good Shepherd. Thus, it seems providential that the spot the Lord created in his Church for a visible chief shepherd on earth, who is his icon, would be filled just days ago such that on this Good Shepherd Sunday, we once again have that same guarantee of the shepherding of St. Peter, now provided through St. Peter’s successor Pope Leo XIV. In fact, just hours ago from the central balcony of St. Peter’s where he was leading the Regina Caeli, the Pope said, “I consider it a gift of God that the first Sunday of my service as Bishop of Rome is Good Shepherd Sunday.” We should be clear: Jesus is the Good Shepherd. But, he has also left visible expressions of his shepherding, most especially through the ordained ministry of bishops and priests. Peter is the Shepherd of Shepherds and his role is maintained in the succession of popes.
The greatest cause of our joy is Jesus Christ, his love for us, and the hope of eternal life he offers us. But, we have added joy in this time that the throne of St. Peter is no longer vacant. We are not like sheep without a shepherd. I think it is important to note that our joy in a papal election is first and simply over the fact that we have a pope. It is not a joy primarily based on which cardinal it is, or where he is from. If you watched the announcement of Pope Leo XIV’s election, the pattern of announcement is always the same, you know that before the name of the one elected is even said, and before his papal name is announced, the crowd in St. Peter’s Square and the crowd watching around the world erupts in wild cheers simply from the announcement: We have a pope! The chair is no longer vacant. The conclave is over. We have a Universal Pastor and a Holy Father. Thus, we are filled with immense joy quite before we even know the basic facts about the man or who he even is.
That being said, there is a shocked excitement for us in that the new Pope was born in the United States and is the first US citizen to become pope. For our parish too, there is some little additional connection in that our patronage of St. Monica and St. Augustine is something dear to the Holy Father given the roots of his religious order (the Order of St. Augustine). In fact, when he was first made a cardinal, then-Cardinal Prevost was given the honorary custody and care of a church in Rome named for St. Monica.
He needs our prayers. And I invite and ask you to focus on that. I suggest you pray much more than researching and investigating information and statements on the man before he was pope. In the modern age, we spend so much time, and spill so much ink, and frankly spill much figurative blood, in trying to identify the camp a person belongs to, and to defend our own. It becomes a convenient excuse for failing to make time for prayer while claiming “I am too busy.” So, if you are going to search out things about the new pope’s record and study up on him, I say, go ahead. But you should also assign yourself a daily Rosary for him as well.
If you watched live or heard live Pope Leo’s first Urbi et Orbi blessing from the balcony of St. Peter’s when he first appeared after election, or if you otherwise knew he was blessing the world and you intended to receive that blessing, you might be interested to know that there is a plenary indulgence offered when the Pope gives such a blessing. The normal conditions for a plenary indulgence apply: sacramental absolution in confession within about 8 days, receiving a worthy Holy Communion, being detached from the desire for sin, and praying for the Pope’s intentions (by saying one Our Father and one Hail Mary).
This Thursday, May 15, a Mass in thanksgiving for the election of a pope will be said. The Mass will be here in the main church at 5:30 pm. and I invite you to attend.
Mass for the Election of a Pope
Held in advance of Conclave 2025
St. Monica Church, Edmond, OK
Eph. 4:11-16; Ps. 89; Jn. 15:9-17
6 May 2025
We gather this evening to pray for the Cardinal-electors of the Sacred College of Cardinals who will soon be sequestered in the Sistine Chapel to begin the Conclave that will elect the next pope who will become, by lawful election, the Successor of St. Peter and the Bishop of Rome. Now, the Conclave begins tomorrow afternoon in Rome, but we are gathering this evening because if we waited until the regular Wednesday evening Mass in our time zone, the Conclave would have already begun since Rome is seven hours ahead of us. This way, the prayers of the People of God, the prayers of the Church coming from Edmond, Oklahoma, join the prayers of the members of the Universal Church in accompanying the Conclave from its very beginning. In other words, no moment of the Conclave will be left unaided by our prayers.
We make use of very unique Mass orations this evening, the Mass for the Election of a Pope. This is the same Mass setting that the Cardinals will pray tomorrow morning in St. Peter’s Basilica, asking the Holy Spirit to guide and guard them as they fulfill this solemn obligation of their office, namely to provide a pope for us. Upon completing this same Mass tomorrow morning in St. Peter’s, the final preparations will be made such that by tomorrow afternoon Rome time, the Cardinal-electors will enter the Sistine Chapel in a solemn procession, chanting the Litany of Saints, and making their oath before the balloting begins. And after that, we will see how long it takes for a successful election to take place. In the meantime, we pray. We pray for the Cardinals. We pray for the one chosen as pope. We pray that we will be an obedient flock who will receive our new Universal Pastor with joy, hope, and confidence.
An interregnum is a unique moment in our life. A moment when we as Catholics, but also plenty of non-catholics, find our conversations turning to the mysterious process of a Conclave. There is nothing wrong with discussing what we think the Church needs at this moment in history. There is something quite good about thinking of what the world needs from the Church, in what ways the world needs to hear the Gospel proclaimed with force in order to address the needs of our time and to frame our moment in history in the light of salvation history. Some who follow these matters more than we do, and those who know more about some of the individual cardinals, can surface qualities and skills they have that might be attractive in a papal election. What can be known about the job history of some cardinals will be, and has been, reported by the media, along with the suggestion that this one or that one might be a leading contender. The truth is: We don’t know. And we won’t know until white smoke rises from the Sistine Chapel. And once we do know, we may well look back on what we thought we knew and see how our evaluations did not quite pan out.
How do we understand this? Or how do we talk about this? I would say it this way: What media types discuss, and what you and I discuss, can only capture one aspect of the action of a Conclave. Our pre-Conclave discussions can only capture what you might call the human or the political aspects of a Conclave. None of our discussions can quite capture an immensely important aspect of a Conclave, namely that it is far from only an exercise in politics, but is also an act of faith by which the Cardinals seek to make a human decision that, before God as their judge, they believe is the right decision to make. None of our pre-Conclave discussions can quite capture that aspect of a Conclave. Nor can our discussions capture how that reality (what we might call the divine or spiritual reality of a Conclave) might influence the human factors in surprising ways, in ways that don’t match up perfectly with the political evaluations that are reflected in pre-Conclave prognostications.
This is not a time for political punditry. I’m not saying we don’t have evaluations of our present needs, or that we don’t express hope that Cardinal So-and-So might be the ideal choice to address our present needs. What I am saying is that our first and our main duty and gift is to pray, to pray fervently and to fast so that we are aiding the spiritual dimensions of a Conclave. We can be honored that many people outside of our fold are interested in what is taking place right now in the Catholic Church. To that end, I simply want to note that a friend of mine, Carla Hinton is here this evening. She is a good and a fair reporter on religious topics for the Oklahoman. She has my permission to be here and if, after Mass, she asks for your thoughts as a Catholic watching this moment in history, I think you should feel good about speaking to her. You are, of course, free to decline. I will by no means use a public forum like this to speak of any possible candidate, but I do think it is worth sharing a simple idea that might shape your prayers in this time. My simple idea is what I might hope to see in whoever is the new pope. My idea is necessarily limited in that I am only highlighting what I think is most essential. And to be clear, my idea is not at all to be understood as if somehow in contradistinction to the last pope or any prior pope. First, and I would not quite call this a job skill, but rather a disposition or quality: I pray that the man who is chosen is holy such that we see in him a serious disciple for whom relationship to Jesus Christ is the priority of his life. In that, I hope we find inspiration to follow such a disciple because he will be our chief visible shepherd on earth. Next, and this is more in the arena of job skills or abilities: I hope that doctrinal clarity in exercising such a teaching office as Successor of St. Peter is a clear factor in the new pope who is chosen, because our world faces many challenges and our world needs clear guidance. Given the speed with which our world communicates (and often miscommunicates!), we need someone who can express the Church’s witness to the truth without confusion. Next, I hope the one who walks out on the loggia of St. Peter’s Basilica is marked by evangelical fervor because our world will not listen to someone who is not convinced that the Gospel offers truth and hope to a world that is adrift for as long as it resists being anchored in Christ. Evangelization is the foundational mission of the Church and so we need in our next pope someone who can take up that mantle and be zealous in proclaiming the Good News. I have placed on the round table in the narthex a photocopied sheet with two prayers: one for the Conclave and one for the College of Cardinals. I invite you to take one copy and to use those prayers for as long as they are needed. We unite ourselves to the Blessed Virgin Mary, the Spouse of the Holy Spirit and Mother of the Church, to St. Joseph, the Guardian of the Universal Church, to St. Michael the Archangel, to the Holy Apostles Sts. Peter and Paul, asking that the Cardinals be docile to the Holy Spirit in making a wise choice that glorifies God. And as we advance in this Holy Mass we give thanks that we are united to the Lord Jesus and strengthened by his Word in Sacred Scripture and his gift of self in the Holy Eucharist so that we may take up our part to give the witness of a holy life, doctrinal clarity in our own sharing of the faith, and the witness of evangelical fervor to the shared duty we have to proclaim Jesus Christ and his Gospel to all we meet!
Dominica III Paschae
Acts 5:27-32, 40b-41; Rev. 5:11-14; Jn. 21:1-19
4 May 2022
The person of St. Peter is a key figure in this Sunday’s Gospel passage. In addition to the person, we should consider the office of St. Peter, meaning the role of St. Peter, given to him by Christ Jesus. To that end it is very providential that we have today’s Gospel passage at the time of a Conclave because it shows us the mind of Christ for St. Peter and the office or role that would endure in the Lord’s Church. This resurrection appearance of Jesus is unique in that it takes place, not in Jerusalem, but at the Sea of Galilee, also called the Sea of Tiberias. In other words, this appearance takes place up in the north. It takes place in the general area where the apostles were from, and where they first received their calling to follow Jesus. We have all likely had experiences of revisiting familiar places from earlier in life. You can imagine that being back in their place of origin naturally called to mind for the apostles a reflection on where they had come from, and the journey they had been on with Jesus. It naturally brings to the forefront of their minds how Jesus had formed them, and how far they had come from their initial days of discipleship. And by necessity, when one reflects on his origins and how far he has come, one can’t help but think ahead to the future, the journey still to come. In this passage, St. Peter gets clear indications from Jesus about the path he is on, where his journey in service to the Lord will take him, and what it will demand of him.
This encounter of Peter with the resurrected Lord is full of the themes of repentance and restoration. The big clue to this is that St. John tells us that on the beach with Jesus there is a “charcoal fire”. That is a very specific word in Greek and the last time we encountered it was from St. John’s account of the Passion recorded in John 18 (verses 17-18; 25-27). In the passion account, Jesus had been arrested and was being interrogated. Nearby, at a charcoal fire, Peter was keeping himself warm and comfortable while he denied three times that he even knew the Lord. Thus, the charcoal fire in today’s passage carries over this imagery of threefold denial. I think the scene today can be characterized as showing signs of Peter’s repentance from that failure of denial. Though the boat he was in was not far from shore, Peter, upon hearing that it is Jesus on shore, does not wait to row in, but instead jumps into the chilly, early morning water and makes his way to Jesus. It’s a sign of repentance. He could have reasonably (and comfortably) waited. But, in a form of eager repentance, Peter tucks in his garment and jumps into the water to get to the Lord faster. There, on the shore, with the other figures faded into the background, he is again near the Lord in the light of a fire. The idea of repentance and restoration is still more clearly emphasized in the dialogue between Jesus and Peter. The three denials of Peter are echoed – yet undone – when Peter is asked three times to profess his love for Jesus. Where Peter had been looking out for himself and his own comfort during the Passion, now Jesus asks him, “Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these?” Simon Peter answered, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.” The Gospel doesn’t tell us this detail, but we do know it was dawn at this appearance, and so I have to wonder if somehow a rooster couldn’t be heard crowing somewhere in the distance, echoing across the lake, echoing the past denial. But the details we do know with authority are more than enough to capture this scene and its opportunity of restoration for Peter who had so grievously failed the Lord and the other apostles.
I want to drill down a bit deeper however. Because the indication of repentance and restoration of Peter is not simply found in the numerical evidence: a threefold denial now followed by a threefold profession of love and recommitment to Jesus. Jesus is clearly drawing Peter back in, back to himself. But there is a further sign of restoration that should not be lost on us. For Peter’s restoration was not simply accomplished in his words alone, where in this passage he now claims three times to love Jesus. Still more, his restoration comes about because in responding to Peter’s new recommitment, Jesus gives Peter a threefold charge. Peter professes love that undoes his prior denial, yes. But he is restored precisely in being given individually the role of shepherd. Upon professing his love, Jesus tells Peter three times: “Feed my lambs; Tend my sheep; Feed my sheep.” The Greek of St. John is even more direct. Rather than what we have in English as “tend my sheep”, St. John uses the word that strongly and directly means “shepherd my sheep”. In other words, be the shepherd! This resurrection appearance also directs Peter to the future. His love will be required of him by being led where he would prefer not to go and by stretching out his hands. St. John tells us that Jesus “said this signifying by what kind of death he would glorify God.”
St. Peter’s office, or role, continues among the Apostles and is maintained in the Catholic Church by divine institution. That our faith is guarded and proclaimed by a Church that is apostolic is a necessary mark of the Church established by Jesus. This Wednesday, in the morning in our time zone, the Cardinals who will vote to elect a pope will be sequestered in the Sistine Chapel for the Conclave. Hours before the Sistine Chapel doors are locked, we will gather here in the main church this Tuesday, at 5:30 pm, to pray the Mass for the Election of a Pope. I hope you will join us in this act of faith to invoke the Holy Spirit for the Conclave and to pray for the wisdom of the cardinals and their docility to do what will most glorify God. Soon, a new man will have his own reckoning like Peter on the lakeshore: thinking of where his life began, the journey he has been on, his past, and the future to which he is called by papal election. Soon, a new man will not be able to help but to have this final Sunday Gospel before the Conclave echoing in his mind: Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these? Whoever is called to take the place of Peter and to continue his office for our shepherding, we pray that the spirit of repentance may come upon him such that similar to Peter in the boat, that man may jump into the distinctive white garment of the Pope and so make his way to Jesus as quickly as he can, while he leads us to the Lord in his wake. We will pray that the one chosen is holy, and maybe even smart, and maybe even a good administrator and communicator. No doubt, the one chosen will be a sinner who may have his own past charcoal fires of denial. But, as the fire from burning ballots of his successful election send up white smoke for the world to see, we pray that the one elected may be restored and confirmed in the mission to be our chief visible shepherd on earth. As Peter himself was called to be dressed and to be led where he did not want to go in order to stretch out his hands in witness to Jesus, we pray that the man elected will stretch out his hands in blessing us and giving us the witness of dying to himself, dying to personal theologies and factions, so that we may have the generous and faithful love of a shepherd worth following because he is responding to Jesus who first said to Peter: Follow me!
Homily for the Third Sunday of Easter by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading 1 Acts 5:27-32, 40b-41
Responsorial Psalm Psalm 30:2, 4, 5-6, 11-12, 13
Reading 2 Revelation 5:11-14
Gospel John 21:1-19
Homlily for Holy Saturday At the Easter Vigil in the Holy Night of Easter by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading I Genesis 1:1—2:2
Responsorial Psalm Psalm 104:1-2, 5-6, 10, 12, 13-14, 24, 35
Reading II Genesis 22:1-18
Responsorial Psalm Psalm 16:5, 8, 9-10, 11
Reading III Exodus 14:15—15:1
Responsorial Psalm Exodus 15:1-2, 3-4, 5-6, 17-18
Reading IV Isaiah 54:5-14
Responsorial Psalm Psalm 30:2, 4, 5-6, 11-12, 13
Reading V Isaiah 55:1-11
Responsorial Psalm Isaiah 12:2-3, 4, 5-6
Reading VI Baruch 3:9-15, 32-4:4
Responsorial Psalm Psalm 19:8, 9, 10, 11
Reading VII Ezekiel 36:16-17a, 18-28
Responsorial Psalm Psalm 42:3, 5; 43:3, 4
Epistle Romans 6:3-11
Responsorial Psalm Psalm 118:1-2, 16-17, 22-23
Gospel Luke 24:1-12
Easter Vigil
19 & 20 April 2025
Gospel: Luke 24:1-12
Easter and the entire season through Pentecost is focused on celebrating the resurrection of Jesus, one of the principal doctrines of our faith. A mystery of faith that is so central to salvation and so essential that St. Paul could say that if the dead are not raised then our faith is in vain and we are the most pitiable people of all (cf. 1 Cor. 15:16-19). It’s all a waste, in other words. If the resurrection is not real, if we fail to hold this essential doctrine, if we fail to live the hope of the resurrection, then there is no point in our carrying on like this. Last one out, turn off the lights please!
Death is a consequence of sin. It impacts almost all of us, save perhaps those rare souls like Enoch, Elijah, and Mary who may not have tasted death, but were assumed into life beyond this valley of tears. We see death all around us. We see signs that life tends to age and weaken and deteriorate. We have large plots of real estate that serve as cemeteries. Yet, we believe that the finality of death is not the finality. We believe that the dead rise again. As the Scriptures say, some will rise to a resurrection of life, of blessedness in heaven, and some will rise to a resurrection of condemnation. But all will rise. Despite all the clear effects of death, all the consequences of death, all the signs of death around us, we believe that the dead rise again. What seems like the end is, in other words, not the end.
Throughout the living of the faith and our celebration of the mysteries of God, the mysteries of Jesus (who is God in the flesh), the mysteries of his Church, and of our salvation, we often think – and rightly so – of what God has done and still does for us. We think of what God gives to us in our prayer. We think of what God gives to us as we serve others in charity. We think of what God gives to us in the sacramental life of faith. But today, I want us to think instead about what we give to God. By this, I mean, let’s think about what mankind gives to God; what human nature gives to God as related to what we celebrate in the resurrection. God, who was in the beginning before all things were made, is pure spirit. He has no beginning or end. He is almighty, all-knowing, and present everywhere. But as pure spirit, not made of matter, not made of stuff, He is free of the limitations that we face. In fact, He is eternal and everlasting. St. Augustine, the son of our parish patroness, once spoke in a sermon: God “was made flesh and dwelt among us. He had no power of himself to die for us: he had to take from us our mortal flesh. This was the way in which, though immortal, he was able to die…. He would first share with us, and then enable us to share with him” (Sermo Guelferbytanus 3: PLS 2, 545-546, selection printed in Liturgy of the Hours, vol. 2, p.432).
So, what have we given to God? What does mankind or mortal nature give to God? We give Him mortality. We give Him what He did not possess in Himself. Since we face the consequences of death on account of original sin, we gave Him the ability to die when God took on our human flesh in Jesus Christ.
If God weren’t God there would be some real “buyer’s remorse” in this deal. If God thought as we think, He’d call all this off and say this is a raw deal. But accepting from us our mortality is the plan of God. And because of this plan, we can acknowledge a really awkward sounding idea: [As is chanted in the Easter Vigil Exsultet] “O truly necessary sin of Adam… O happy fault!” Why would we call the sin that required redemption, a redemption brought about by the horrific torture, death, and resurrection of God Himself, a “happy fault”? We certainly do not intend to say that the sin itself was a happy, or even a good thing. No sin is good. But, in light of the greater plan and the greater thing that God would do in response to sin, in retrospect we can curiously see the grace that came from God’s generous love after man had sinned. And so, in that sense, so great is the immense love and work of God in salvation that we find a kindly light shining back even on man’s sin. The result? O happy fault!
As St. Augustine in his sermon went on to say, “Of ourselves we had no power to live, nor did he of himself have the power to die. Accordingly, [Jesus] effected a wonderful exchange with us, through mutual sharing: we gave him the power to die, he will give us the power to live.” We gave him the power to die. This Easter I want to leave us with a different way to view the various ways we die, the ways our mortality is on display. That is to say, I want to encourage a different way to view our weaknesses, our defects, our shame, our flaws, our failures, and our sins. To be absolutely clear, no one should leave here thinking I am encouraging sin, diminishing its effects and eternal consequences, or going soft on the need to strive for holiness. But the fact is that we struggle and we fail and we tend to live in shame and frustration, hiding our sins, finding in them the cause of exasperation, the sign that we will never make it. In this, hiding our sins, dismissing the reality and its consequence, seeing it only as the sign that we will never make it, in this we are missing the way the resurrection completely upends everything. O happy fault!
Our response to faith in the resurrection should be seen in how we live daily with greater awareness of this mystery we celebrate. You see, we really need to live the resurrection as more than an idea about which to philosophize, or some fact about which we try to convince others. Living the resurrection in greater awareness can come about if we recall the value of what we give to God. How we see ourselves and how we experience frustration with ourselves and others, can be transformed in our daily living if, after the initial regret for sin, we can pick ourselves up and see our sin as an offering to God who makes of it too a “happy fault.” Rather than seeing every failure and sin as only a defeat, we can have a renewed sense of peace about our sins if we remember that they are signs of the mortality that we give to God, by which he is able to accomplish his plan of salvation. And in giving our deaths to God, he is victorious and gives in their place the ability to live. Again, not celebrating or encouraging sin, we need to see in the reality of our failures the call to give something over to God. This is also not advice to broadcast our sin as a way to prove that we do not dwell in shame. No, we Catholics have a private place for that where absolution is given. But this central reality of the resurrection is something that needs to mark our daily living. In the grace and the light of Easter, ask the Lord to transform the way you respond to your own mortality, especially as on display in your defects and sins. Yes, face the reality in truth. Yes, repent of it. Yes, confess it. Yes, work to change and reform yourself so that you grow in holiness. But, get rid of the idea and the defeating voices that tell you your mortality is only a thing of shame or hopelessness. That is not the voice of God. And to reject such notions can help us live the resurrection as more than an item in the creed or a doctrine to study. In faith, our sins and failings, when given to God, are part of the marvelous exchange by which we give to Him what He did not have in Himself. In turn, we proclaim “happy fault” because He gives to us the power to live!
Holy Thursday
17 April 2025
With the beginning of this evening Mass, the season of Lent has now officially ended. We have now begun the most intense and the shortest of the Church’s liturgical seasons. This brief season is three days long, comprising Holy Thursday evening through Easter Sunday evening. The three days is the origin of the name of this time: The Sacred Triduum, from the Latin meaning the Sacred Three Days. This short “season” has us observe our most high holy days, celebrating tonight that our Lord established two sacraments at the Last Supper, the institution of the Holy Eucharist and of the holy priesthood; observing tomorrow (Good Friday) the saving sacrifice of the Cross; and, observing on Holy Saturday the reality of the tomb, a placed turned into hope by our Lord’s resurrection to new life, which we begin to anticipate and watch for in vigil on Holy Saturday night leading into Easter Sunday.
These intense, climactic days are the fulfillment of what God chose to do to restore His creation and the communion of life He desires us to have by His promise of salvation. It is good to briefly consider all that hangs in the air in these brief three days. Such recollection should help us appreciate aspects of the saving mysteries we celebrate here liturgically.
From the accounts of creation in the Book of Genesis, we recall that God provided all good things, the garden of blessing, every seed-bearing plant and every tree that has seed-bearing fruit on it, every animal, every bird of the air, and every creature that crawls on the ground. God gave all these things for man to steward and care for. And He gave them also as food for man to have every blessing in that garden of communion with God.
The Fall brought disorder into God’s creation. It changed natural life such that after the Fall it tends to weaken and fall apart. It brought about death. The Fall results in man’s being cast out of the Garden, subject to death, and an eternal consequence of being at odds with God, which is the condemnation of Hell. But Genesis reports that first announcement of the kernel of the Gospel (Gn. 3:15), that God has a plan to destroy the effects of the serpent’s cunning and to deal a mortal blow to death itself.
As that plan of salvation unfolded, and as man’s fall was related to grasping at and eating food, God called for the Jewish people to observe their salvation from slavery over the course of the Passover meal. It was a meal that recounted God’s goodness and saving action. Far from mere memory alone of the past event of the Exodus, the Jewish mind and faith is that the Passover makes God’s saving action present now to His people. The meal had to be eaten. The Passover lamb became the sign of what God does in the midst of His people. The identification of God Himself – Jesus Christ – with the lamb, carries with it the message that, in Jesus, God is saving His people in the fulfillment of all that the Exodus accomplished, a journey no longer from slavery in a country of the earth, but a journey to freedom from slavery to sin by the passage to redeemed life, and finally a journey to the Promised Land of Heaven. In the course of the last Passover meal with his apostles, the one we call the Last Supper, the Lord took the familiar Passover ritual and did something new and unexpected with it. It took time for the disciples, the first Christians to grasp all the implications of the Lord’s action, but in the first generation of the Church, Christians already understood that the Passover meal had become a New Covenant by which God’s saving action was made present to His people now, and the lamb that had to be consumed was Jesus, the Lamb of God, very God Himself. That faith has been handed on ever since and we still maintain it today as Catholics. In fact, we would not be Catholic, we would not be the Lord’s Church, were we to fail to hold this faith about the reality of what took place at the Last Supper, and which now takes place in the Holy Mass. The second reading from St. Paul to the Corinthians shows us how this faith was passed down from the first generation of Catholic disciples. St. Paul is able to write, as we heard, “I received from the Lord what I also handed on to you, that the Lord Jesus, on the night he was handed over, took bread, and, after he had given thanks, broke it and said, ‘This is my body that is for you. Do this in remembrance of me.’ … In the same way also the cup, after supper, saying, ‘This cup is the new covenant in my blood’.”
What I want to tie together for us is how the Lord’s ultimate gift and sacrifice of himself for our salvation mirrors in some degree the act by which man was disobedient to God in the Garden and ushered in the fall. In other words, God’s plan of salvation takes up some of the imagery and the action by which man created the need for salvation in the first place. At the Last Supper, Jesus presented himself to his apostles in a way that echoed his strange sounding words from John 6 that he, that his very flesh, is the bread come down from Heaven. At the Last Supper, Jesus presented himself to his apostles as food. And though it would take at least a little time for their minds to grasp this, along with the action of the Holy Spirit to guide them in truth to this part of Catholic faith, the next day the Lord would show how this saving food – his very life – is likewise food from a tree, for the apostles learned that the Lamb of God, who was given as food, is placed upon the wood of the Cross, food dangling from a tree.
In the Garden of Eden food dangling from a tree was taken in disobedience, bringing to man a knowledge of good and evil that God did not intend for man and which distorted man’s nature. God’s plan of salvation finds its culmination in that saving food of the lamb dangling from a tree on Calvary. In obedience, we are to look upon it – upon God Himself – hanging in death, yet showing the immense depths of God’s love, that He places Himself where our disobedience brought ruin. Now in obedience, and provided we observe communion of life with the Lord, we are called to receive food from the tree of the Cross. But, this food saves!
This night we commemorate that at the Last Supper, as the Lord was bringing to fulfillment the long plan of salvation, he brought about salvation in a way that makes his saving power present in every time and place. The power of the Cross and its food, made present in every Holy Mass, is not just a past recollection or a memory of a past event. Like the ritual of the Passover meal for the Jews, this ritual of the Holy Mass makes present to us here the saving power of the exodus of the cross, death, and resurrection of Jesus: who is God, Lamb, and Savior. At one and the same time in giving this saving gift, by establishing also the holy priesthood exercised in his Catholic Church, the Lord has provided the means by which his gift of self in the Holy Eucharist can be made present to his Church, to disciples in every time and place. For all this, we marvel at the promise God made in that kernel of the Gospel first proclaimed over the wreckage man had made in the Garden of Eden. God promised there a saving plan that the offspring of the woman would strike a mortal blow to the offspring of the serpent. Our undoing is mirrored in the ways God has acted to save us. Man first looked upon the tree of the knowledge of good and evil and found it enticing and good to look upon. Now, man is called to look upon what does not seem enticing or good, in fact, rather grotesque, the agony of that tree of the Cross. Man was first disobedient by taking from the tree in the Garden. Now, man is called upon to be obedient in finding upon the tree of the Cross food for eternal life. Where man’s sin brought death in the flesh, now man is called upon to express faith that death is destroyed because the seed-bearing fruit of the life of God Himself is planted within the greedy jaws of death. As that limitless life of God germinates in the darkness of death and tomb it is destroyed from the inside out! God’s generous love is what we celebrate this evening, a love that finds its promised culmination in the Holy Eucharist, the Real Presence of God, food for the journey, and the sign that we are not abandoned or left as orphans. Intimately bound up with this sacred gift (the Holy Eucharist), is the means by which that gift comes to us: the priesthood of Jesus Christ. This day is a day for the priesthood in a unique way. And so, I ask you to pray for me and to pray for Fr. Bali, and for all priests. We are weak earthen vessels – yet the power of God in sacred ordination results in His saving plan continuing to come in your midst through the sacramental life of the Church. At the same time, I ask you to pray and to watch – even within your own families and among your sons – for signs that the Lord desires to continue the plan of salvation such that one day your son just might be called “Father”. In the charity and the humble service that the Lord models for us, we seek to promote priestly vocations for the good of the present and future mission of the Church and we seek to observe faithfully that the Lord is present to us in these sacred mysteries of his Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity.
Homily for Holy Thursday by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading I Exodus 12:1-8, 11-14
Responsorial Psalm Psalm 116:12-13, 15-16bc, 17-18.
Reading II 1 Corinthians 11:23-26
Verse Before the Gospel John 13:34
Gospel John 13:1-15
Dominica V in Quadragesima C
6 April 2025
Throughout this Lent the readings from Sacred Scripture have shown us God’s activities and mighty works in the Exodus by which he brought His people out of slavery in Egypt. The readings of Lent also move into the New Testament selections to show us the new “exodus,” that is the passage or departure that Jesus would undertake in his Cross and Resurrection. The Exodus from Egypt was filled with mighty signs of God’s presence among the Israelites and mighty deeds that demonstrated God’s power over Israel’s enemies. Thus, the events of the Exodus convinced Israel they belonged to God and that they were His chosen people. Throughout the Old Testament, as Israel recalled the Exodus, they constantly spoke of the mighty works God had done in the past. Today’s first reading from Isaiah and the psalm are good examples of such commemorative language, celebrating the past: “Thus says the Lord, who opens a way in the sea” and who leads out the powerful army of Egypt till they are “snuffed out and quenched like a wick.” Filled with joy in belonging to God and being beneficiaries of His power, the Israelites would frequently cry out, as we repeated in the psalm, “The Lord has done great things for us; we are filled with joy.”
Imagine, then, how strange the words of God must have sounded to Israel as delivered later by Isaiah in the first reading: “Remember not the events of the past, the things of long ago consider not; see, I am doing something new”. Think about that. God was telling Israel to overlook the many plagues He had visited upon Egypt to get Pharaoh to release the people. Israel was being told not to dwell on God’s presence in cloud and fire as they were led away from Egypt. They were being told to think no more of the incredible event of the Red Sea crossing. They were no longer to recall the miraculous bread-like manna and the flesh of quail God provided for their food. They were being told to consider no more the cloud, lightning, and thunder that accompanied Moses on Mt. Sinai as he visited God and received the Ten Commandments. Or, to be absolutely clear, God is instructing His people that they should not be so past focused as to miss that He is in their midst still acting in the present. God wants His people to also focus their minds on the new thing He is doing. That “something new” is the exodus Jesus would undergo by his death and resurrection. The exodus of Jesus is God’s most mighty work of all, because by it He offers Himself in payment for the sins that bring eternal death and deserve the punishment of Hell. By faith and baptism we enter the life of Christ, being called to live this new life and to give up and avoid the old ways of slavery to sin, the past. As the woman caught in adultery was spared, the “something new” of God spares us the punishment of Hell by the compassion of Jesus, if only we will place Christ’s life above all things.
St. Paul understood well the “something new” of God. He knew that he could not hold onto the old life, even though it was marked by so many of God’s mighty deeds. St. Paul speaks most explicitly that in light of the new thing the Father does in Christ, everything else – everything – is garbage. He wrote in today’s second reading: “I consider everything as a loss because of the supreme good of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have accepted the loss of all things and I consider them so much rubbish, that I may gain Christ and be found in him.” To understand St. Paul’s emphasis, it is helpful to know that the word “rubbish” in English is a PG version of latrine language. St. Paul says to be a Christian, to belong to Christ, to be able to come to Christ’s compassion for forgiveness of our sins, to have new life in the Lord means all else is [pause, cough, clear throat] “rubbish” compared to the “something new” the Father does in Christ!
In this holy season we are called to renew ourselves in the new life of grace in Christ Jesus our Lord. Christ Jesus is the “something new” of the Father. Have we changed this Lent? Does our life reflect more faithfully now “the supreme good of knowing Christ” than it did at the beginning of Lent? Where is my life leading me? What appears to be my goal in life? Would there be any evidence in my life to support the claim that my goal is “the supreme good of knowing Christ?” Is there any evidence in my life to support what St. Paul described as the “straining forward” to “the prize of God’s upward calling”? Or, to borrow St. Paul’s blunt words, do I give more attention to “rubbish” than to new life in Christ? Am I content to treat my sins lightly, ignoring even serious sin in my life as I trade in new life in Christ for wallowing in filth? Is success, pleasure, fame, money, athletic prowess, career, car or home what I really strive for? Am I ready to account these as rubbish compared to the new life offered me in Christ? By faith and baptism we have entered new life in Christ and we are called to live this life always. If our being Christian is not just a label we wear externally, then we must view all else as rubbish in comparison to knowing Christ our Lord. Only then, like the woman caught in adultery, burdened with our sins and the punishment they deserve, can we come to Jesus. Meeting him we are freed by his compassionate words “Neither do I condemn you,” and we are given the serious work of his command, “Go, and from now on do not sin any more.” Only free from the bonds of sin can we live new life according to the Father’s plan, going forth to announce His praise, because of the supreme good of knowing Christ Jesus the Lord!
Homily for the Fifth Sunday of Lent by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading I Isaiah 43:16-21
Responsorial Psalm Psalm 126:1-2, 2-3, 4-5, 6.
Reading II Philippians 3:8-14
Verse before the Gospel Joel 2:12-13
Gospel John 8:1-11
Homily for the Third Sunday of Lent by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading I Exodus 3:1-8a, 13-15
Responsorial Psalm Psalm 103: 1-2, 3-4, 6-7, 8, 11.
Reading II 1 Corinthians 10:1-6, 10-12
Gospel Luke 13:1-9
Dominica III in Quadragesima C
23 March 2025
This Sunday the Scriptures call us to reflect on what it means to belong to God in covenant. We belong to Him and are claimed by Him. This involves living in accord with God’s ways. And when we inevitably fail to do that in both venial and mortal ways, we are called to repent and to bear the good fruit God expects. The lesson of repentance and bearing good fruit is a well-timed lesson for the Season of Lent as exhibited in the Scripture selections for this Holy Mass.
The second reading (from the First Letter of St. Paul to the Corinthians) speaks to us about the Old Covenant God made with the Israelites and the many wonderful saving events God provided to His people, especially involving the ministry of Moses. St. Paul does something interesting in recounting these saving events. He says what happened with the people in the Old Covenant serves as an example and a warning to us in the New Covenant. Listen to the blessings received by the Israelites, which St. Paul recounts to Christians in Corinth: “[O]ur ancestors were all under the cloud and all passed through the sea”. St. Paul says this movement from slavery in Egypt to freedom, entering the cloud of God’s presence and passing through the parted Red Sea amounts to a “baptismal” entry to the Old Covenant. He wrote: “all of them were baptized into Moses in the cloud and in the sea”. Having thus been baptized into the Old Covenant, St. Paul goes on to write that they all “ate the same spiritual food”. And here is the kicker from St. Paul. He continues: “Yet God was not pleased with most of them, for they were struck down in the desert”. Considering these saving events of the Exodus and the outcome that most of those chosen people died before arriving at the Promised Land, St. Paul drives the lesson home for Christians: “These things happened as examples for us, so that we might not desire evil things, as they did. Do not grumble as some of them did, and suffered death by the destroyer. These things happened to them as an example, and they have been written down as a warning to us…. Therefore, whoever thinks he is standing secure should take care not to fall”. And thus, the appropriate Lenten lesson of repentance that is reinforced in the Gospel selection.
In the Gospel, Jesus calls his listeners to repentance. He confronts a false but common notion among ancient people, namely that when bad things happen to people (like the massacre of Galileans in the Temple or like those who died when the tower of Siloam fell) it happens as punishment for sin, it is a sign that those who died were bad sinners. The ancients commonly thought that all calamity and misfortune were related to sin and came about as punishment. We might think that a quaint notion from unsophisticated ancient minds. Yet, we moderns commonly adopt the opposite extreme. In our culture we commonly adopt the idea that there is no relationship between sin and punishment. So, we probably should be careful about making charges of lack of sophistication. While Jesus says that those who died in those events were not worse sinners than anyone else, he still goes on to say, “But I tell you, if you do not repent, you will all perish as they did!” What do we make of the apparent contradiction? The Lord’s remarks can be understood if he is not speaking only of physical death of bodily death, like the Galileans experienced and like those who died when the tower fell. The Lord is calling us to repentance so that we might not find ourselves facing spiritual death, eternal death in separation from him. And in fact, the Lord expects and demands repentance that we might bear good fruit as members of the New Covenant.
There is a popular notion among some Christians that claims that once a person comes to Christ and expresses faith, then they have a salvation that is set and unchanging. That popular notion is expressed in these words: the doctrine of “Once saved; always saved”. That notion simply does not match with the evidence throughout the Scriptures. That notion makes no sense in light of the frequent biblical call to repent – even among those already following Jesus. That false notion is adopted by many non-catholic Christians who might think that once they accept Jesus there is nothing that would endanger salvation. But that false notion is also adopted by many catholics, perhaps unintentionally, who do not make good use of confession, that sacrament particularly geared to repentance and to the healing of sins committed after we enter the New Covenant in baptism. That attitude cannot be ours. For we are called to repent and to bear good fruit.
As St. Paul wrote to the Christians in Corinth, “whoever thinks he is standing secure should take care not to fall”. The Lord, like the owner of an orchard, expects fruit to come from the trees he has planted and nourished with his saving grace and the Precious Blood from his Cross. That Gospel image of the fig tree echoes exactly an earlier event in the same Gospel of St. Luke when St. John the Baptist is calling his listeners to not assume that because they have Abraham as father that they are automatically saved. St. John goes on to say, “Produce good fruits as evidence of your repentance…. Even now the ax lies at the root of the trees. Therefore every tree that does not produce good fruit will be cut down and thrown into the fire” (Lk. 3:8-9). The tree is an image of an individual believer planted in the orchard of the covenant in Jesus. From each believer, good fruit, produce at the proper time, is expected. Like the people of the Old Covenant, God nourishes us with baptism and spiritual food and he sends workers to tend the orchard, to cultivate it and fertilize it. The good fruit is expected and demanded. If not produced, the tree is cut down.
We trust that the Lord is kind and merciful. But we also take care not to fall. Repentance, by which we return constantly to the Lord, places our hope in him and keeps us united to the one whose generous gifts and patience make it possible for us to bear good fruit.
Homily for the First Sunday of Lent by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading I Deuteronomy 26:4-10
Responsorial Psalm Psalm 91:1-2, 10-11, 12-13, 14-15
Reading II Romans 10:8-13
Verse Before the Gospel Matthew 4:4b
Gospel Luke 4:1-13
Dominica I in Quadragesima C
9 March 2025
I think we would all agree that the Sacred Scriptures, being the inspired Word of God in written form, are of immense value for our instruction, for our correction, and for training in holiness (cf. 2 Tim. 3:16). One of the blessings you can discover when you study and pray with the Scriptures is how much more there is than just the word on the page, as valuable as that is. In addition to the words on the page, you see literary techniques and characteristics that open endless riches by which we can come to know God and by which we can come to see our lives in the plan of salvation. By way of example, it is fascinating to understand that Old Testament figures can serve as types of what will be fulfilled in the New Testament. Such is the case when we read about Isaac in the Old Testament, the beloved son of his father Abraham, who carries the wood for the sacrifice on his shoulders, much like what is fulfilled when Jesus, the beloved Son of God, carries the wood of the cross and is given in sacrifice by the Father for our sins. Sometimes the literary device allows you to see mirror or inverse images between biblical events.
On this first Sunday of Lent I suggest we should have in our minds the blessings of the Garden of Eden and mankind’s fall by giving in to the temptations of the devil. We know about the garden from the Book of Genesis, the first book of the Bible. God created all good things and made man in His own image, giving him authority over creation and placing him in that garden of blessing. By taking and eating from the forbidden tree, man’s disobedience introduced sin, caused man’s expulsion from the place of blessing, and carries with it the inherited sin that we each receive and which weakens us in the face of temptation. With that lesson from Genesis in mind, we have the inverse in the gospel selection from St. Luke. Just one verse before today’s selection, Jesus is revealed in St. Luke’s genealogy as the “son of Adam, the Son of God”. This reference to Adam bolsters how the gospel scene is an inversion of the garden, for Jesus is the new Adam, and like him, he is tempted by Satan. But given that sin has entered the world, Jesus is led to, or placed in, the desert, far from the garden of blessing. There, in that place of desolation that speaks so clearly of lack of blessing, Jesus, the new Adam, is victorious. In this way, we have a summary of the temptations faced by Adam and Eve. These temptations are relived, so to speak; they are recapitulated in Jesus. But, this time, the new and perfect Adam, Jesus, is victorious; and, since he is both God and man, this means our own human nature, our flesh, has hope for victory in Jesus over what has caused our fall.
Genesis tells us of a threefold temptation in the Garden. When Satan tempts Eve, the Scripture says that Eve saw that “the tree was good for food, and that it was a delight to the eyes, and that the tree was to be desired to make one wise” (Gn. 3:6). Christianity has developed a tradition of seeing in this scene from Genesis a threefold concupiscence, meaning a threefold way that is comprehensive for how we are inclined to sin. You can see this tradition on display moving from Genesis to the opposite end of the Bible in the First Letter of St. John (chapter 2, verse 16). He writes: “For all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh and the lust of the eyes and the pride of life, is not of the Father but is of the world”. Let’s make the connection from the threefold concupiscence to how this has developed in Christian tradition. Eve saw that the tree was good for food, which corresponds to the Christian tradition of referring to our tendency toward sin due to the lust of the flesh. Lust is a disordered attachment to things. The lust of the flesh, refers to a disordered attachment to food and drink and sexual pleasure, things that are pleasurable to the flesh. Second, Eve saw that the tree was a delight to the eyes, which corresponds to the Christian tradition of referring to our tendency toward sin due to the lust of the eyes. The lust of the eyes refers to a disordered attachment by which we see things and desire to possess and take them, to make them ours. Eve saw that the tree was to be desired to make one wise, to make one like unto God, which corresponds to the Christian tradition of naming the pride of life as a source by which we fall to sin. The pride of life is a disordered attachment to being exalted, to raising oneself up in esteem, to be powerful, to seek glory, to be in the know, to seek to occupy the place of God.
Jesus recapitulates this threefold temptation, this triple concupiscence, in the gospel selection, which presents us an inversion of the Garden of Eden. Satan’s temptations correspond to this triple concupiscence. Jesus, led to the desert by the Spirit, has undergone serious fasting and he was very weak in his human nature. The devil, being the most cunning of all the creatures, seizes upon the moment to bring temptations, and St. Luke’s very ordering of the three temptations highlights the triple concupiscence that I have been describing. The devil tempts Jesus to command that a stone become bread. That’s an expression of the lust of the flesh, to make something that would be pleasurable, that would feed a desire of the flesh, that would fill a longing of the flesh. The devil tempts Jesus by showing him all the kingdoms of the world and promises that he will hand them over to Jesus, that he may possess them. That’s an expression of the lust of the eyes, to see all the power associated with earthly kingdoms and mankind, and to desire to possess it, to take control of it. Finally, the devil tempts Jesus by placing him in full sight at the pinnacle of the temple and urges him to throw himself down so that God’s promise of protection can be displayed. That’s an expression of the pride of life, to display his power, to make a show of himself, and to be exalted before the world as the one sent by God the Father.
And so, with the lesson of Genesis and the threefold concupiscence, it makes total sense that our standard Lenten practices – fasting, almsgiving, and prayer – are remedies for these precise areas of weakness. Where we suffer from lust of the flesh, we fast to train ourselves against a disordered attachment to food, drink, and bodily pleasure. We need to rely on fasting more, and not only in Lent. Don’t think that simply because the Church requires fasting only on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday, that those are the only days we should fast. No, if you want to master the tendency to weakness in the flesh then adopt fasting. In Lent, our use of a such a tool should be intensified. Where we suffer from the lust of the eyes, we engage in almsgiving. Where we might tend to fall prey to amass possessions, to take things and hold onto them for ourselves, we give things away to those who are needy and at the same time we train ourselves to maintain better control over this desire. Where we are sort of tugged by the pride of life, wanting attention, or to be seen as an influencer, or to be wise, to be seen as powerful and noteworthy, we practice and develop a life of prayer. By prayer we recognize our need for God. We enter relationship with Him. And immediately, humility is required because we can’t help but be honest in that relationship that we are not God, but in humility must rely upon Him and His love for us. To make a minor adaptation of St. John the Baptist’s words in reference to Jesus: We must decrease and He must increase.
Jesus has recapitulated the events of man’s sin and has been victorious over what separates us from God. Thus, in Lent, we seek to be more greatly conformed to Christ so that, united more deeply with our Head, we who are members of the Body of Christ may share more fully in his victory. Lent is not a time for superficial spiritual practices, but a serious engagement with prayer, fasting, and almsgiving so that the Lord’s power may come more fully into the weakness that ails us. The Lord did not come in our flesh and die for our sins so that we can give up trivial things for Lent. That might be okay for children, but not for us adults. He came to undo the power of our triple concupiscence. Now is the time for serious battle to weaken the disordered attachments that keep us bound.
Homily for Ash Wednesday by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading 1 Joel 2:12-18
Responsorial Psalm Psalm 51:3-4, 5-6ab, 12-13, 14 and 17
Reading 2 2 Corinthians 5:20—6:2
Verse Before the Gospel Psalm 95:8
Gospel Matthew 6:1-6, 16-18
Ash Wednesday
5 March 2025
The holy season of Lent is an annual opportunity to be honest – brutally honest – with ourselves about ourselves. It’s as if we are looking at ourselves before the Lord, as if he were a mirror and we are checking our reflection. How do we reflect the Lord in our daily living? Is our image conformed more greatly to his? Is our reflection of him lacking in some significant way that must be reformed, and even in smaller ways that need our effort at conversion?
Taking up the call to engage in this self-examination is critically important because it is so easy for us to fall into a complacency about ourselves that can result in our adopting self-congratulatory ideas and false estimations of ourselves. Considering what takes place at almost every modern funeral exposes this complacency and this self-congratulatory tendency. Funerals are now “celebrations of life” by which most people mean a celebration of the deceased and all of his or her favorite hobbies and interests. Rarely does one get the sense that the life being celebrated is that of the Lord, lived in the person of the deceased, which would be the only thing that matters and the only thing that saves. Gone are the days at most funerals when, facing the reality of judgment, the focus is clearly on praying that the deceased person may experience a merciful judgment. The way most people speak at funerals gives the distinct impression, if not the outright claim, that the deceased is already in Heaven or has become an angel. And since it is assumed that the deceased is already in heaven, there is little that communicates the need to pray for the deceased person. In fact, one of the greatest tragedies in modern funerals is that the living are not left with an awareness of the need to pray for the deceased and to accompany and help the deceased soul through its purification. Rarely at funerals do we hear that the deceased had sins that must be addressed or that we should hold off on claims of instant canonization. I am not observing this to be nasty, but to pull the veil off of a tendency that undercuts the truth. The truth is that we are sinners. The truth is that we exist in a fallen nature due to original sin, which we inherit. The truth is that we are each guilty of our own personal sins, and sometimes rather serious sins that risk our eternal loss on the day of judgment. If we don’t face that truth, if we allow ourselves to be medicated by the spirit that is so evident surrounding modern funerals, if we adopt a secular way of thinking, then we fall into the trap of self-congratulatory attitudes by which we think our sins aren’t that bad and that we don’t have much for which we must repent and be converted.
And thus, the importance of Lent. It is a time to be brutally honest about ourselves. And if we use Lent well, we don’t keep that honesty only for Lent, abandoning it the rest of the year. Rather, we continually examine ourselves as a regular part of the spiritual life, and we heed the call to practice that brutally honest self-examination in the gift of confession. Why do we engage in this honest self-examination and the practices of penance? Because Jesus himself is the example to us of prayer, penance, and the arduous struggle with evil and the devil himself. He did so in his temptation in the desert. Furthermore, he recommends such practices to his disciples. Notice that in the Gospel selection, the Lord is recommending spiritual practices and telling his disciples how to engage in them sincerely and in a way pleasing to him. He says, “When you give alms,” and “When you pray,” and “When you fast.” The Lord assumes that his followers take up these worthy practices and that his followers do them in such a way that does not render them empty by doing them in order so that others see those righteous deeds.
What we do in Lent with particular vigor is not intended to be kept in Lent, as if we would leave behind serious and honest self-examination the rest of the year. We engage with the opportunity of Lent as an intense time of renewal so that we live the faith in a way more consistent with our calling and so that the coming celebration of Easter will find us living a deeper communion with the Lord who is the only source and hope of our salvation. The truth is that we need to dismiss the tendency to excuse ourselves of sin and to make use of the great gifts that are the marks both of honest self-examination and honest reliance on the goodness of the Lord who loves us and whose mercy saves those who are humble and who repent.
Homily for the Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading I Jeremiah 17:5-8
Responsorial Psalm Psalm 1:1-2, 3, 4 & 6
Reading II 1 Corinthians 15:12, 16-20
Alleluia Luke 6:23ab
Gospel Luke 6:17, 20-26
Homily for the Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading 1 Isaiah 6:1-2a, 3-8
Responsorial Psalm Psalm 138:1-2, 2-3, 4-5, 7-8
Reading 2 1 Corinthians 15:3-8, 11
Alleluia Matthew 4:19
Gospel Luke 5:1-11
Dominica V per Annum C
9 February 2025
When we have an experience of God, there is a common human tendency to first consider our unworthiness. It is a common tendency to think of the reasons why we can’t do what God asks, why it can’t be me, especially when that encounter with God involves some mission or task that He wants us to accomplish, or when it involves discovering our vocation, the calling, He gives us. Our unworthiness to be with God, or to do anything that glorifies God, is an acknowledgment that we are unworthy because of our sins. We see this common human tendency in the call of the Prophet Isaiah from the first reading. He discovers God’s call in his experience of a spiritual vision of God’s temple in heaven. When he sees this vision of God, and the fiery angels worshipping around the throne, and the cry of the angels, “Holy, Holy, Holy”, causing the whole temple to shake, Isaiah does what any normal human being would do. He says, “Uh, oh! I don’t fit in here. And I’m probably about to die!” To quote him in his own 8th century B.C. words, Isaiah says, “Woe is me, I am doomed! For I am a man of unclean lips, living among a people of unclean lips; yet my eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts!” Isaiah encounters God and he is afraid because he knows he is a sinner. He can’t imagine that God would allow him to stand in His presence. He can’t imagine that God would have anything in mind for Isaiah to do on His behalf.
Now, there is something true, and even good, about that common tendency to think of our unworthiness and sinfulness when confronted with an experience of God. We believe that, don’t we? It should come naturally to us as Catholics. After all we start every Mass with some form of a penitential act, calling to mind our unworthiness to encounter God in worship and to express our hope that He grants mercy to make our worship pleasing to Him. Our unworthy sinfulness is frankly the truth. There is something very healthy about admitting that. In fact, you want to know who is spiritually unhealthy and in mortal danger? It is not the sinner. It is the sinner who doesn’t repent. It is the sinner who doesn’t receive the medicine in God’s gift of confession. Yes, let’s be clear that knowing the truth that I am an unworthy sinner is appropriate and it means that I have a good grasp on reality, that I am not delusional. But – and here is a lesson the Scriptures drive home for us – when that common tendency to know of oneself as unworthy is coupled with a failure of imagination that God can do something with me… that is a toxic combination. When we think that our unworthiness means God can’t do anything about it, or that He can’t do something with us, then we are acting as if we are more powerful than God. But if we repent, that’s a gamechanger!
There is a book I want to recommend that gives some advice on how to counteract that toxic combination. The book gives an important antidote for combatting this tendency. It is actually a Catholic book… and it is called the Bible! (You know the Bible is a catholic book, I hope! The Catholic Church put it together.) The lesson throughout the Scriptures that serves as an antidote against our tendency to limit God’s plan for us is simply: listening. Listening is always the first step in man’s response to God. Listening is the first step to confronting the truth of my unworthiness, yes, but, if done in humility, it leads to God’s purifying action to heal us (as happened with the purifying ember of spiritual fire on Isaiah’s mouth). It leads to God’s equipping us for our vocation (as happened on the lake with Jesus giving Simon Peter his calling). Listening helps us focus not on what we can’t do, but rather on what God can do in us. What God can do through us. Listening to God’s Word in the Scriptures, listening to God’s Word in the Deposit of Faith and in Church teaching, listening to God’s Word in personal prayer, and in the ways He moves in holy, faithful friendships… this is an antidote to the tendency to limit God and to think He can’t be calling me to be holy and to do something holy in His Name.
St. Paul is someone who knew his unworthy sinfulness. But you know he listened when, after listing various people and groups who saw the Lord, he says, “[l]ast of all, as to one born abnormally, he appeared to me”! So unworthy and such a sinner am I, St. Paul is saying, so unlikely a candidate am I to be an apostle or to accomplish any good for God, that is as if I am born into this mission and vocation abnormally! He did the healthy thing of acknowledging his sinfulness. But in humility and obedience he didn’t think that his sinfulness put a limit on God. St. Paul did not permit the awareness of his sins to be coupled with a toxic failure to imagine what is possible with God. You know he practiced the antidote of listening to God’s Word when he can say, “But by the grace of God I am what I am, and his grace to me has not been ineffective.”
We need to foster an imagination that trusts it is possible for God to interact in the world He made and to interact with us in our experiences such that we can discern the gifts He gives us, how He wants us to accomplish His tasks, and to follow the vocation He gives us. It would have been easy for Isaiah to not listen, and to dismiss his vision as a crazy dream. It would have been easy for St. Paul to think only of how he persecuted the Church and was a murderer and so to not listen to the calling to preach the Gospel and to write the words of faith that eventually became books in the Bible. It would have been easy for Simon Peter, an expert fisherman with a fishing business, to get prickly when Jesus, a carpenter of all people (!), should tell him how to fish. Had he failed to listen he might have missed his vocation to be a priest and the chief apostle.
In my past assignment as the Vocation Director, I had the enriching experience of working with young men wrestling with a mysterious call to be a priest. Many a young man will think first of why it can’t be him, why he is unworthy, why his struggles and sins mean God can’t really give him a priestly calling. One of the excuses I enjoyed the most was when a guy would be interested in the priesthood but would say, “I don’t know, Father. I don’t think that’s me because I like girls too much.” I would usually say, “Well, you should. That’s a good sign. You can’t dismiss the priesthood because of that.” If I had a good enough rapport with the guy I would sometimes add, “It’s cute that you think that’s a reason why God can’t call you to the priesthood”. We might expect the young to have difficulty in thinking God can use them for some holy purpose. But I am not so sure that is limited to the young. If you are a husband or a wife, a father or a mother, do you take your faith into the world on mission to share Jesus with others? Do you think there is some reason you can’t do that? Or do we adults think there is some place that God does not belong? Do you bring Him into your work place and your social interactions? Yes, young men listening today need to know that they can’t put a limit on God’s call and that He might want to give them the grace of the priesthood. Yes, young women listening today need to know that the Lord might be calling them to religious life, no matter the limitations they have. No matter their future calling, all young people have the charge now to be leaders among their peers, at school, and in social groups, in order to win many souls for the Lord, following the examples of so many great young saints throughout history. But it is not only the young. Those living life as single persons need to trust that God gives them a mission field in their career and in the service they can render to others by virtue of their greater freedom. Couples who are preparing for marriage and those already married are called to let God’s grace be effective in them and in their faithful and fruitful love, seeing their mission field in the domestic church, a field which can open so easily to many other people, thus leading them to faith and the Lord by the attractiveness of hospitable family life. You see, we are all purified and saved from our sins by baptism and given a calling in that first sacrament to speak the Good News. If we are listening to God’s Word we know that our past and our sins don’t prevent God from working. Repentance is the game changer that avoids the toxic failure to open our minds to what God sees as possible. Whether you are young or older, if you find yourself dismissing a certain mission or vocation, thinking it can’t be you, know for certain that the evil one is lurking and your response should be to listen more attentively and to give God permission to do what He can do through you.
What godly calling and mission is yours? What godly calling and mission seems unlikely in your opinion? What is God asking of you that you might first object to and raise the reasons why you are not qualified? Like Isaiah, like Simon Peter, like Paul, what is God’s missionary and vocational call to you that you think just can’t be? You see, a lesson today is that we think more of ourselves instead of God. That common tendency reveals the error. Do we really think the source of power for mission and for vocation comes from ourselves? No, when we listen to God and let down our nets in humility, it is not we alone who are doing the work. Rather, it is God who purifies us with holy fire and it is God who fills the nets!
Dominica II per Annum C
19 January 2025
In the Christmas season we celebrate in faith that our salvation is near because God has wedded Himself to us, His People. He has done so by wedding Himself to us in our flesh. We celebrate that reality in the conception of Jesus (where God first took flesh) and which we observe on the Annunciation each March. And we celebrate that reality finally being made visible at the birth of Jesus at Christmas. Though the Christmas season has ended, we continue celebrating God wedding Himself to us and being made manifest (or visible) by listening today to the story of the wedding feast at Cana.
St. John is doing something different with this story. He is using an earthly event (the wedding at Cana) that has its own meaning as a tool to reveal divine mystery. The Gospel story is clearly not really about the couple who got married in Cana because they barely get a mention. The bride isn’t mentioned at all. And the groom gets only a brief mention toward the end. Another way we conclude that St. John is doing something different with the story is by considering just how much water Jesus turned into wine. Six jars each holding about 20-30 gallons would result in between 120-180 gallons of wine. We are more familiar with bottles of wine, so let’s run the conversion. On average, that many gallons of wine would amount to between 720-1,080 bottles of wine for a wedding feast. I searched around to see how one plans for the amount of wine to have for a wedding party. Some advice is that for a party of 100 people you plan on about 40 bottles of wine, but to be safe you might just round up to four cases of wine, equaling 48 bottles. Using the amount of wine Jesus made and running the conversion numbers, this would imply a wedding party in the small village of Cana involving party attendance of anywhere from 1,500- 2,250 people! Look, I’ve been pastor of some small towns in Oklahoma that can throw some big parties, but that is an unbelievably large number of people in an ancient village, and it is a totally insane amount of wine. And don’t forget, Jesus made that much wine AFTER they had already consumed all the wine the party had planned for! Again, St. John is clearly doing something different by using the story of the wedding at Cana.
In the Bible, the image of a superabundance of wine accompanies descriptions of God’s action in end times to bring about salvation. The Bible uses the image of much wine to describe the celebration of God’s People when He brings about their final salvation. The Prophet Amos writes, “Behold, the days are coming,” says the Lord, when… “the mountains shall drip sweet wine, and all the hills shall flow with it. I will restore the fortunes of my people Israel, … they shall plant vineyards and drink their wine” (Amos 9:13-14). The Prophet Joel writes, “And in that day the mountains shall drip sweet wine” (Joel 3:18).
St. John writes of the signs by which Jesus acts to reveal his glory and to bring about belief, discipleship, and salvation. With all this in mind, we can view St. John’s use of the wedding at Cana as a sign that Jesus is the actual groom being revealed in mystery, for he is God who has wedded Himself to us in our flesh. And following the logic of the imagery, someone else – namely, the Church – is being revealed as the actual bride. You and I as members of the Church form the bride of Christ. Now, don’t get hung up on the standard sex of that imagery. The point is that Jesus is the groom in this relationship who lays down his life, who gives forth his life, to plant in us the seed of eternal life. We, in this relationship, the Church, as bride, can only receive that gift within us and let it grow to full maturity so that we are born into heavenly life.
And still more, it is the Holy Mass that is the foretaste of the wedding feast of God’s nearness to us in His flesh, and the foretaste of that ultimate act of our salvation by which God brings us to the heavenly feast. You should let this imagery form your perception of the Holy Mass and how you relate to it. If we hold on to this imagery we should be impacted by how we prepare for Holy Mass and how we participate in it. It is a common and widespread expectation that one dresses up for, and dresses properly for, a wedding. Ordinary clothes just won’t do for something so important. That should be our attitude for Mass. What if I wore shorts and my favorite sports jersey to say Mass? Outrageous! By the way, the priest dresses in vestments not to communicate an idea that he’s better, but because he is supposed to serve as the icon of the groom and High Priest, Jesus Christ. And, that would be hard to see or imagine of any man if he wore street clothes. No groom would get away with dressing poorly for the wedding feast. But you are the bride in this imagery! The same holds for you. Let that influence how you dress up for Mass. If we are aware of the Mass as a foretaste of the heavenly wedding feast, then some habits come into different focus. We see the need to prepare for Mass. We prepare spiritually by our daily prayer life and frequent confession that prepares us to actually be in a communion of life with Lord before we receive Holy Communion. We prepare by taking time to reflect on the readings before we hear them proclaimed live. Is there a habit of arriving late for Mass and a habit of leaving early, walking out right after receiving Holy Communion? I’m not talking about occasional snafus or emergencies. But is that your habit? Then the need to reform that habit comes into clearer focus when we understand the Holy Mass as the foretaste of the heavenly wedding feast where we should be “all in”. Finally, for all of us here, let the grace of this foretaste help us understand the necessity as Catholics of marrying in a valid marriage in the Catholic Church so that the living of the sacrament of Holy Matrimony becomes a service by which spouses reflect to the world that God has wedded Himself to us, and reveals His glory through married love so that others may believe!
Homily for the Second Sunday in Ordinary Time by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading I Isaiah 62:1-5
Responsorial Psalm Psalm 96:1-2, 2-3, 7-8, 9-10
Reading II 1 Corinthians 12:4-11
Alleluia 2 Thessalonians 2:14
Gospel John 2:1-11
Nativitas D.N.I.C.
25 December 2024
Midnight Mass Readings
Throughout the holy season of Advent the Church has called us to give particular attention to a practice that, truthfully, should engage us all year long, no matter the season. That practice, given special attention in Advent but warranted throughout the year, is the practice or preparing for the coming, for the arrival of the Lord. The coming of the Lord has two specific reference points in history. The first coming has already taken place in time and it is the reason we gather today, to observe the birthday of our Lord Jesus Christ. The second coming of the Lord in history is the one we still await when Jesus will return in glory as our Judge and Judge of all the living and the dead. We might call these two comings of the Lord his “physical” arrivals, or his arrivals in human bodily form. In Advent, and truthfully always, we prepare to live anew the meaning of Jesus’ first arrival while, at the same time, we seek to live the truth of the Lord’s birth and salvation for us by preparing for the unknown day when he will arrive in majesty and power. The second reading for this Mass makes reference to these two “physical” arrivals when St. Paul writes to Titus: “The grace of God has appeared, saving all and training us to reject godless ways and worldly desires and to live temperately, justly, and devoutly in this age, as we await the blessed hope, the appearance of the glory of our great God and savior Jesus Christ”. St. Paul writes about a grace of God that has already appeared even while noting that we still await the appearance of the glory of God. One coming, one appearance has happened; the second coming, the second appearance we still await.
While our Christian vocation and our efforts at responding to the call to holiness take place between these two arrivals of the Lord, spiritual authors have noted a helpful interpretation that God arrives in a third way. There is, we can say, another arrival of the Lord who comes to us in a different form between these two physical arrivals. That third way, though perhaps not physical or in human bodily form, is no less real. Between the two historical arrivals of the Lord, he comes to us spiritually by his grace. Yes, the Lord arrives and comes to us by his gift of grace in so many and varied ways. He comes by grace most pre-eminently in the sacraments of our faith, most especially in the Holy Eucharist. The Lord’s grace arrives to us each time we stop life to admit our sins and to be healed in confession. The Lord comes to us in holy Baptism and Confirmation. He arrives with his grace in the sacraments of vocation, whether marriage or holy orders. The Lord arrives to us when we pray, committing both to personal prayer time daily and our communal gathering at Holy Mass, observing each holy day and each Sunday as the Lord’s Day, by which we prepare weekly for the Lord’s return. He comes to us in that blessing to the spiritual life that is meditation and study of Sacred Scripture, God’s Word to us. The Lord arrives by his grace when we seek to live appropriate moral lives and when we give up our selfish ways to serve others. His grace comes to us when we let the sacred teaching of the Church form us as we benefit from the centuries-long reflection of the Church on the mysteries of our faith. So many ways does the Lord’s grace come to us.
Perhaps is makes sense to say that how we live in awareness of that third arrival, that third way of coming, the arrival of God to us by His grace in our spiritual life… perhaps that is the key to how we can prepare to observe Jesus’ birth in a less secular way, and also the key to being prepared for that most important test still to come: preparing for the Second Coming of Jesus. Said another way, if we aren’t living in such a way to experience the arrival of God’s grace to us in our spiritual life, making use of the various examples of grace I stated earlier, then we are more likely to succumb to a secular and commercial preparation for Christmas and, as a consequence of that, we are more likely to succumb to being ill-prepared, “unprayed”, and unconfessed when the Lord comes again as Judge.
So, what lesson can we take for how to actively live that third way that the Lord arrives, his coming to us by grace in the soul, grace in the spiritual life? I want to highlight two practices for our spiritual life. These two practices are reflected in what we see in the Scriptures and in the experiences of so many believers over centuries. The bad news is that these two practices, while simple, are tough and they will stretch you beyond your comfort zone. The good news is that these practices are entirely possible and they will save you.
I think it can be said that the Scriptures show us an interesting pattern before some important action of God. The pattern is that some important action of God is preceded by silence, often long silence. I was doing some reading recently and I came across commentary about the long silence that enveloped God’s People Israel between the last prophet Malachi and the birth of Jesus. In fact, some call this the “400 silent years” after the completion of the Prophet Malachi’s ministry. I am not saying there were no godly events or no scriptural writings during those hundreds of years. The point is that there was no prophet, no one whose commission from God was to say, “Thus says the Lord…” Imagine being a faithful Jew, seeking to live the call to be God’s people in the midst of the world surrounded by people of many different beliefs and hearing nothing. Some Jews, whole generations, would have never known what it was like to live in a time of a prophet. Silence. No new prophet’s word. Four hundred years of silence. Until, that is, the silence was broken, not by a new prophet, but by the very Word of God Himself. An infant’s cry and coo in the still of a Bethlehem night broke the long silence. So, the first practice that promotes God’s arrival to us by grace in the spiritual life is silence. Depending on our vocation and our duties, we will have to be creative with this, especially in family life, depending on how much silence the kids will let you have. Maybe instead of “silence” I could say, “quieting yourself”. When was the last time your TV was turned off for a meaningful length of time? I mean, during the day, not at night when you are asleep. How about removing the ear buds? We’re always ready to listen to someone else; we’re always somewhere other than where we actually are. What freedom could you find by turning the ringer to off on the smartphone? How often do you unplug from constant consumption of information, news, and – let’s be honest – silliness and total wastes of time online? Silence, quieting yourself, is so necessary for prayer because we have to get all the words and messages and thoughts that are not from God out of our heads in order to make room to hear God. It takes time to filter out all the competing ideas and thoughts and words that fill our heads and hearts. If we rarely stop the noise, chances are we rarely quiet down enough to finally hear God – and to know it is God and not our own echo chamber. Four hundred years of silence preceded and prepared the way for God’s own voice to break the silence on this night. Silence is a critical precursor to God’s action. While quieting ourselves takes discipline and is difficult, the good news is countless faithful over centuries know that it works.
And once we have quieted ourselves such that God can arrive by grace in our souls, once we have heard God’s voice, well, we then have something to say, something worth saying. Here comes the second difficult practice. We ourselves experience a new arrival of God’s grace, this third way of coming to us, when we share with others what we have received. What do the Scriptures show us after the 400 years silence was broken by the Infant Word of God echoing throughout earth? Immediately there is proclamation. The angel of the Lord appears to shepherds in the stillness and relative silence of night and says, “I proclaim to you good news of great joy.” A good news that is destined “for all the people”. And following that proclamation, a multitude of the heavenly host joins the angel to break out in praise saying, “Glory to God in the highest.” Thus, a disciple who is in the posture to receive the arrival of God’s grace is a disciple who knows his spiritual life is meant to be shared. That doesn’t seem like it would be hard to do. But it is. It takes vulnerability to share your faith with others. We do not hide our spiritual life or the ways God blesses us. We do not boast, to be sure. But, we are not called to hide what we have received under a basket. We are called to break the silence of a world far from God with the proclamation of good news, the Gospel of Jesus Christ and what He has done for us. We are called to share our faith and our blessings with those around us. In so sharing our faith, others are blessed by the arrival of God for them and God’s grace in us is magnified for having been shared.
We more joyfully observe Christ’s birth, we are better prepared for his second coming, and we make ready the path for God to do something in us, to come to us by grace, when we follow that pattern seen in the Scriptures: fostering silence so that we make room for God to come to new birth in our souls by His grace, and then breaking the silence and the darkness by our own proclamation that “Today is born our Savior, Christ the Lord.”
Homily for The Nativity of the Lord (Christmas) Mass during the Night by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading I Is 9:1-6
Responsorial Psalm Ps 96: 1-2, 2-3, 11-12, 13.
Reading II Ti 2:11-14
Alleluia Lk 2:10-11
Gospel Lk 2:1-14
Dominica III Adventus C
15 December 2024
The change of vestment color for this weekend (from the darker purple to rose) and the permission to decorate the sanctuary with flowers serve as a visual reminder that half of Advent is in the past. The color rose – rose being traditionally associated with joy – and the repeated message of the Scriptures call us to rejoice. And so, this day has been called in Latin “Gaudete Sunday” or “Rejoice Sunday.” That thematic title for this Sunday comes from the words of the entrance antiphon, which we chanted at the beginning of this Holy Mass: “Rejoice in the Lord always; again I say, rejoice.” This weekend the Church calls us to step up our joy because we have completed half of this holy season and are drawing near to the celebration of the source of our joy, the birth of Christ Jesus.
The Gospel passage today is a continuation from last Sunday where we heard of the work of St. John the Baptist. Last week’s Gospel told us that the word of God came to him in the wilderness and in response he went about “preaching a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins” (Lk. 3:3). There are a few verses between last Sunday’s and this Sunday’s Gospel that are not read in Mass, but I want to share them now. John “said to the multitudes that came out to be baptized by him, ‘You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? Bear fruits that befit repentance…. Even now the axe is laid to the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire’.” (Lk. 3:7-8, 9). You brood of vipers! I’d like to take a moment to welcome any visitors and newcomers. We hope you’ll join the parish and get involved here. What an Advent message! No, but I think hearing those few verses between the two gospel passages helps establish a better sense of the full context of today’s passage.
Today we hear a question and answer session between John and the different groups in the multitude who heard him preach repentance and who came to be baptized. And the burning question from each group is “What should we do?” Could the lesson between repentance and faith leading to action and a changed life be any more clear? Again, those unread verses: “Bear fruits that befit repentance…. Even now the axe is laid to the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire’.” (Lk. 3:7-8, 9). We have today a lesson for us about faith and action, we might even use the oft misunderstood phrase of faith and works. God alone saves us by faith in His mercy and generous love. And necessarily related to that, is that one who receives that free and unmerited gift from God should live in such a way that demonstrates a life claimed for God. That’s why John could confront those whose repentance was suspect by calling them a brood of vipers. John the Baptist prepared the way for Jesus Christ. The message for us is even stronger since Jesus fulfills all of the promises and prophecies about God. Conversion and repentance is naturally and necessarily followed by a change of behavior, by action, by living the new life we have been freely given. Faith and action go together! They must go together or else we are not bearing good fruit. Faith and action go together in whatever vocation and in whatever profession is yours. Faith and action go together everywhere we live our life or else… we are not bearing fruit. Or else, we are like trees ready to be cut down.
Those unread verses that I shared help us see how the message from last Sunday’s passage is continued today. At the end of the passage today John references wheat harvesting, but it is an image that speaks of judgment as well. John points to the One who is coming and he says “His winnowing fan is in his hand to clear his threshing floor and to gather the wheat into his barn, but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire” (Lk. 3:17). It’s a harvest image to be sure, but its meaning is the same as the previous call to bear fruits that befit repentance. The One who is coming, who is greater than John, is expecting good wheat; he’s coming ready to gather the harvest. Be the wheat, in other words. Don’t be the chaff. Think about the harvest imagery. The winnowing fan, also called a winnowing fork, was used to thresh out the wheat grain from the lighter hull, like the wrapper around the wheat grain. In ancient times the winnowing fork was used to toss grain up into the air. The heavier wheat grain would fall downward, while the wind and the action of throwing the grain with the fork would cause the chaff to blow away and land elsewhere.
To repent and to receive baptism in Christ Jesus is a call to also bear fruit, to be good wheat ready for harvest. Since the fruit of a changed and redeemed life, since the wheat of such a life is heavier, I want to encourage you to… gain weight! Okay, now you’re talking, some are saying! This is my kind of religion! I mean, what could be easier at this time of year, right?! No, not cookies and holiday treats. Better said, let’s be heavier or more weighty as Christians. Let’s bear good fruit as a sign that our lives have been changed. Let’s be the wheat. It’s not just an idea. It is necessary in order to endure the judgment of the Lord when he returns again. Bearing good fruit and being more weighty is marked by a life lived in such a way that it reflects the meaning of the repentance I declare, and that reflects the baptism I have received. How do we bear good fruit? Well, I can’t say everything today about what is means to be a Christian who is living authentically the faith received, but we can stick with some ideas from the Gospel. How did John respond in the Gospel when asked by the people of his time, “What should we do?” He basically responded with the idea of almsgiving. Do you have extra clothing? Give it to someone who has none. Do you have enough food? Then do the same. John also encouraged justice in our interactions with others when he responded to the tax collectors and soldiers. Don’t cheat people or take more than you should. Don’t make false accusations. And be satisfied with what you have. Stop seeking more, always more things. It’s basically from John a call to do what we call the corporal works of mercy.
Interestingly enough, doing these things, bearing good fruit, connects us back to idea of rejoicing today on Gaudete Sunday. You know one way to be more weighty as a Christian, one way to demonstrate the authenticity of your Christian life, one way to find joy… is to get out of ourselves and all the things we are wrapped up in and to give to others, to serve others. This time of year is so hectic and so stressful for so many. Maybe in part that is due to focusing excessively on our plans, our wants, our desires. So, in the midst of all that this season is let’s remember to be more weighty as disciples of Jesus. Let’s remember to be more weighty throughout the whole year. To be clear, we don’t bear good fruit to make ourselves feel good, or for the purposes of some secular utopia in this world. No, we seek God and we seek to bear good fruit because it is necessarily connected with the faith we proclaim. We seek to bear good fruit because it is the right thing to do. We seek to bear good fruit to draw others into the same call to repent and to believe in the Gospel. We seek to bear good fruit because it will find us better prepared to stand before our Judge when he returns with his winnowing fan. We seek to be good wheat ready for harvest, the wheat that, being heavier and having fallen to the ground in death, is ready to rise again to the kingdom of light and rejoicing!
Homily for the Third Sunday of Advent by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading I Zep 3:14-18a
Responsorial Psalm Is 12:2-3, 4, 5-6.
Reading II Phil 4:4-7
Alleluia Is 61:1 (cited in Lk 4:18)
Gospel Lk 3:10-18
Homily for the Rorate Mass before dawn on Saturday, Dec. 14, 2024 by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Our Lady of Guadalupe
12 December 2024
Today we observe with great joy the miraculous appearances, by which the Blessed Virgin Mary made herself known as the “ever virgin Mary, Mother of the true God through whom all things live” (cf. Office of Readings, Report by Don Antonio Valeriano). The appearance of Mary sparked massive numbers of conversions to the true faith in the one Catholic Church established by Jesus. Her appearance resulted in hundreds of thousands of souls leaving behind the falsehood of pagan worship and false religion. Her appearance resulted in souls believing in the love of God shown in Jesus Christ, who is the Savior of the world. To celebrate the Virgin today, and to do so in a way that pleases her and gives to Jesus what he is owed as God, means we must put behind ourselves false idols that get more attention that our soul and more attention than living our Catholic faith. To celebrate this feast day today in a way that is good means we must stop making excuses for living a weak life as disciples of Jesus.
Our Lady of Guadalupe has become so closely associated with the history of Mexico that, as one song says, to be Mexican is to be Guadalupan as something essential. But even beyond Mexico, this appearance of Our Lady has transformed our continent and our world, such that she belongs not only to Mexico and to Mexicans, but is the Empress of All the Americas. The number of conversions to Catholicism that resulted from her miraculous appearance in Mexico has led her to also be called the Star of the New Evangelization. This means she is invoked for the new proclamation of the Good News that must be made in our time since so many souls who once were Catholic have fallen into darkness and sin as they leave the Catholic Church, or as so many other souls still have never heard of the true Church where salvation is found.
To be clear, any time we honor Mary, like we do today on this great feast, it is never enough to stop with Mary. Mary’s role is to point us to her Son, Jesus the Savior. If we stop with Mary, or if we focus only on her or exclusively on her, then in fact we are not listening to the whole message of the gift that comes from God when some miraculous appearance takes place. To say this another way, if we think that the popular song means that it is enough to be Guadalupan, then we are not listening to what Mary wants us to hear. To be devoted to Mary means we must see that she leads us to Jesus. To be devoted to Mary must lead us to the One she points to: to Jesus the Son of God. We might add some words to that popular song and say: To be Mexican is to be Guadalupan, which is to be Catholic as something essential! If one thinks that it is enough to be Guadalupan, to simply honor Mary without reinforcing and building our life with Jesus, then we are making a catastrophic error that will not lead to our salvation in heaven. If one thinks that it is enough to be Guadalupan and simply to appear devoted and catholic on December 12, then we are missing the entire message of Our Lady of Guadalupe. We would be causing the Virgin sadness if we honoring her did not result in living more fully the catholic faith.
Two simple ideas come to my mind from the story of the appearance of the Virgin to St. Juan Diego. When Juan Diego first saw Our Lady of Guadalupe she called him “the humblest of my children” and she said that it was her ardent desire that a temple ber built on the hill.” And so, the two ideas are the virtue of humility and the construction of a temple.
First, we recognize that everything we have is a gift from God. And we owe Him everything in return. Humility, being humble like St. Juan Diego, means that we listen to the ways God speaks to us and comes to find us. He comes in our humble dedication to prayer. He comes in our commitment to attend and participate in all Sundays and holy day Masses. He comes in our moral living and in the way we work to remove sin from our lives. He comes with His grace in living a proper sacramental life, including following the important practice of marrying according to Christ in his Church. This humility to live marriage and family life as a sacrament places our entire life and our future on the solid foundation of Christ. In the humility of service to others, especially the poor, God comes to us with His blessing.
And God comes to us, His humble children, with a call to engage is some work. We are called to build a temple. But perhaps not exactly the same temple we think of on Tepeyac Hill. By humble living of our faith and the commitment of holy baptism, we are building ourselves into a temple! In baptism, the Holy Spirit is given to us to take up residence within us. And so, we should recognize that we are temples of the Holy Spirit. We are called to be beautiful temples dedicated to Christ. We honor God and the Virgin Mother when we guard and care for our soul and live as the temples we have been made to be. How senseless it would be to celebrate the appearance of the Virgin of Guadalupe, how senseless it would be to make visits to shrines (like the shrine in Mexico City or Oklahoma City), how senseless it would be to take the time to come here to church if we do not recognize ourselves as temples of the Holy Spirit. Therefore, in humility, we seek to guard this temple of the soul and body and we seek to make sure our children do the same.
May the intercession of the Virgin of Guadalupe encourage each of us to be more fully alive in her Son and to focus our efforts and attention where the Lady points us: to Jesus Christ and to fuller living of the gift of our Catholic faith.
Homily for the Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading 1 Gn 3:9-15, 20
Responsorial Psalm PS 98:1, 2-3ab, 3cd-4
Reading 2 Eph 1:3-6, 11-12
Alleluia See Lk 1:28
Gospel Lk 1:26-38
Dominica I Adventus C
1 December 2024
Our word “advent” comes from the Latin “adventus,” which is, in turn, a translation from the Greek word “Parousia.” Parousia and adventus mean “arrival” or “coming.” Our use of the word “advent” refers not only to the coming of Christ at his Incarnation and birth at Christmas, but it also refers to his second coming as Judge at the end of time. The Catholic faith believes in these two comings of Christ: the Incarnation and the Second Coming, as we clearly profess each time we state the Creed. Advent is a time of year that is hectic and exciting in holiday anticipation. And so, the gospel selection today may sound almost strange to us, as if it is out of place for Advent. Where is John the Baptist? Where is the tender story of the virgin with child? And if we think this gospel passage is out of place for Advent, perhaps that teaches us a critical lesson about how we view life and faith. What is truly strange? Is it the Church’s focus and the scriptural selection that is strange and doesn’t fit? Or is it rather how we tend to live that risks being out of step with Christian preparedness and vigilance for the moment when the Lord comes again? As we look ahead to celebrate the birth of Christ, which has already happened in time, we must remember that we can never pause our ongoing preparation and looking ahead to that coming of the Lord that we still await: the advent, the Parousia of the Lord, at his Second Coming!
The gospel is from Jesus’ discourse on the Mount of Olives where he speaks of his second coming. He speaks of dramatic cosmic signs that will accompany his return in glory and he alludes to a prophecy from the Book of Daniel that the Son of Man will come in the clouds. These signs are disturbing. People will be in dismay and perplexed. In fact, “people will die of fright in anticipation of what is coming upon the world.” Considering this, Jesus’ instruction seems counterintuitive. He says when you see these things “Stand erect and raise your heads because your redemption is at hand.” He says that we are to be vigilant in our belief that the coming tribulations are imminent. We can add to this the lesson from the second reading that we do even more to be ready for the Lord’s return. St. Paul wrote to the Thessalonians: “Finally, brothers and sisters, we earnestly ask and exhort you in the Lord Jesus that, as you received from us how you should conduct yourselves to please God – and as you are conducting yourselves – you do so even more”.
How are we possibly supposed to face the final advent, the final coming of the Lord? Jesus tells us that our responsibility is to be prepared. I want to offer two general categories of how we prepare: (1) Some things not to do; and then, (2) Some things to do. The things not to do. Jesus says, “Beware that your hearts do not become drowsy from carousing and drunkenness and the anxieties of daily life.” Jesus warns us to take care that our hearts not be weighed down by things that will prevent us from being ready to stand erect and to raise our heads. In particular, we must be on guard not to become drowsy from “carousing”. Other translations of this passage use the word “dissipation.” That’s a word commonly used of the younger son in the Parable of the Prodigal Son. The word in Greek translated as “dissipation” or “carousing” refers to “unbridled indulgence.” We become drowsy and unprepared when we give in to unbridled indulgence in all the pleasures of the flesh: money, sex, power, food, recreation, sleep, and material goods. These are the things that we cave to so easily in our fallen nature, making them our focus and, in so doing, becoming weighed down with an earthly, lower focus that obscures our true dignity as God’s children and impedes our ability to be ready to stand up and to raise our heads to meet the Lord when he comes. To respond to Jesus’ call to be vigilant for his second coming, we have to guard our hearts so that we do not let them fall in love with a disordered and unbridled attachment to lower things that weigh us down and keep us from being prepared.
And then, the things to do. Jesus tells us that our responsibility is to be prepared. Jesus says, “Be vigilant at all times and pray.” This refers to the spiritual advice of staying awake and praying, especially in the night time hours. This spiritual discipline of vigilance is perhaps less considered than a more familiar spiritual discipline like fasting, but it is just as much part of the Jewish and Christian traditions. Monks get up while it is still dark, late at night or very early in the morning, to pray. That time of prayer – not surprisingly – is called “vigils.” This call to be vigilant, to stay awake and to pray, helps us understand and appreciate key Catholic practices. Ever wonder why we have a Midnight Mass at Christmas? To keep vigil, to stay awake and to pray ourselves into the dawning of light on Christmas Day. We keep vigil on Holy Thursday night after the Mass, praying before the gift of the Lord’s presence in the Blessed Sacrament. We have an Easter Vigil that is always held in the darkness of Holy Saturday night so that we keep vigil as preparation for the arrival of Easter Sunday. If you don’t already do so, you might consider whether you can attend those special Masses. The spiritual practice of vigilance can also be grown in the devotion of Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament. When we come to an adoration chapel we are coming to be vigilant, to stay awake and to pray before and with the Lord. Perhaps the message of Jesus on this First Sunday of Advent might drive you to take up this practice, to commit to adoration, and to let the Lord prepare you for his return. We always need more parishioners to commit to participate by taking time in our chapel, especially in the night time hours. Let this be a call to you to participate in quiet time with the Lord. I hope you will learn more about adoration and commit to time in our chapel. You won’t regret it! The Lord tells us to be vigilant, to stay awake, and to pray that we may have strength to escape what comes and to stand before him. Physical strength will do us no good at the Second Coming. We need spiritual strength. Train yourself in that spiritual discipline of vigilance that we perhaps unwisely leave only to the most dedicated monks. Stay awake and pray with the Lord in adoration so that you remind yourself of his Kingdom already present here and now, whose fullness we await in the life to come. Train yourself in prayer and adoration to desire that Kingdom more than daily anxieties. And as you pray before the Lord let him help you identify the sins that need confession. Let him raise your head and cause you to stand secure in his love such that when that day with disturbing signs comes, you may see it not as a day of fear but as the arrival, the advent, of the gift of God’s love and desire for you: “Your redemption is at hand!”
Homily for the First Sunday of Advent by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading I Jer 33:14-16
Responsorial Psalm Ps 25:4-5, 8-9, 10, 14
Reading II 1 Thes 3:12—4:2
Alleluia Ps 85:8
Gospel Lk 21:25-28, 34-36
Homily for The Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading I Dn 7:13-14
Responsorial Psalm Ps 93:1, 1-2, 5
Reading II Rv 1:5-8
Alleluia Mk 11:9, 10
Gospel Jn 18:33b-37
Dominica D.N. Iesu Christi Regis
24 November 2024
This weekend the Church observes the 34th or last Sunday in Ordinary Time. This marks the final Sunday of the Church’s current liturgical year. It is marked by observing the Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, the King of the Universe. Now it may be a challenge for us to think deeply about what it means that the Lord identifies himself as a king whose kingdom is not of earthly origin. “My kingdom does not belong to this world,” Jesus said. The challenge for us Americans is that “king” and “kingdom” terminology sounds like old time language and foreign concepts at best. At worst, it sounds like the stuff of fairy tales and legends. The history of the founding of our country after all involves throwing off the ties of monarchical rule, and the idea of a king is not natural to us in our democratic republic marked by authority coming from the people and exercised by representative government. Yet, we need to be clear that the Lord identifies himself as a king, as our king. This speaks to us about his sovereignty over us. It tells us that we need to think deeply about the Lord’s mastery over us, over every aspect of our lives. His kingship tells us about the type of obedience he is owed from us.
The first reading from the Prophet Daniel and the second reading from the Book of Revelation share in common that they report to us a vision of the author. In the Old Testament the phrase “son of man” is typically used to refer to a human being. Yet, in the vision of Daniel (the first reading) there is an obviously different meaning, because Daniel sees a heavenly vision, he sees a celestial being who appears like a son of man, he writes. In other words, this particular son of man is divine. And we know he is not of merely human origin because he does not come in a human procession of fanfare. Rather, this one comes on the clouds of heaven, and when he comes before the throne of God, the Ancient One, this Son of man is given dominion, glory, and kingship over everything. The vision of St. John in the Book of Revelation (the second reading) likewise identifies Jesus as the ruler over all earthly rulers and it notes his divine origin and kingship in that he comes, again that phrase, amid the clouds. As we must think deeply about how the Lord identifies himself as a king, and even as we know that requires obedience from us, we should rejoice because Jesus is the perfect king. He loves us and knows what is best for us. He calls us to an obedience that is not about oppression, but rather he knows we will be truly free of external and internal enslavement if we live in accord with his commands. He is a king who lowers himself to serve us and to save us by his mercy.
Imagine whatever fanfare comes to mind when you think of a king and a kingdom. Perhaps the coronation of King Charles not that long ago in English gives us some images. Trumpet blast. Banners flying. Armies in formation. Servants attending. Colorful attire and various ranks in the king’s court. All of that pales in comparison to the way the entire universe is arrayed to celebrate the kingship of Jesus whose majesty and glory has him coming on the clouds. But as captivating as all that pageantry may be, the kingship of Christ hangs on the response that is required from each of us. And a response is needed from us. A personal response. Our response cannot be a corporate response only, just going along with the crowds. It is corporate and involves the community of the Church certainly, but it cannot be only corporate. In the end, our response cannot be made for us by someone else. In a certain sense, apart from external regal fanfare, standing alone before the king shows us whether our response is adequate. And thinking deeply about this response to the kingship of Jesus is important because one day it will have eternal consequences as we stand alone before the king who will judge our obedience. That’s what I mean by saying that all the external fanfare of kingship, whatever we imagine about the kingship of Christ, it all hangs on the personal response demanded of each disciple.
For that reason, almost apart from any words spoken, it is just the setting itself of the Gospel text that most catches my attention today. The Gospel selection from St. John is the trial and judgment of Jesus leading to his crucifixion. That trial and judgment scene takes place at the praetorium where Pilate exercises Roman authority. But more specifically, this section of St. John’s Gospel has scenes standing on the outside of the praetorium with the raucous crowds and more quiet and personal scenes inside the praetorium, away from public notice. Our selection today is a scene inside the praetorium where apart from the crowds and the spectacle and the public eye, Pilate is alone with Jesus. Pilate stands alone with Jesus. And so must we all – right now, today – as a test of our discipleship. And so we all will – one day – as the test of our judgment. Jesus is the universal king with a kingship of higher authority than this world. When we think of the commitment we should have to daily prayer, time spent with the king who loves us, can we imagine ourselves in that personal, private scene inside the praetorium? There, Pilate seems to be in control but it is really he who is being interrogated, he who is on trial. Can you see your life and your response to the kingship of Jesus in that scene? Pilate’s “Are you the King of the Jews?” becomes our own interrogation about our response to Jesus by asking ourselves, “Are you the king of me?”. Or, said in more natural English, “Are you my king, Lord?” The Lord responds with his own question that highlights our own personal responsibility: “Do you say this on your own?” When we think of the commitment we should have to Sunday and holy day Masses where we give the Lord the worship he is owed, will we let ourselves hear that examination of conscience, “Are you my king, Lord?” When we think of the call to holiness in our King’s kingdom, when we think of the battle we must undertake to root out sin, when we think of the need to confess sins frequently, what does our personal practice and response say to that question, “Are you my king, Lord?” When we think of how our lives as disciples should be oriented to generous service, the giving of our time, and talent and treasure, a generous service to the least of our brothers and sisters, “Are you my king, Lord?” The Lord’s “Do you say this on your own” serves as an examination for that personal response we must all give to the kingship of Christ. Imagining the private scene inside the praetorium, may we find encouragement that our proclamation of the kingship of Christ is far more than words on the lips, but more about the way we live as disciples who listen and belong to the voice of truth.
Homily for the Thirty-first Sunday in Ordinary Time by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading I Dt 6:2-6
Responsorial Psalm Ps 18:2-3, 3-4, 47, 51
Reading II Heb 7:23-28
Alleluia Jn 14:23
Gospel Mk 12:28b-34
Dominica XXXI per Annum B
3 November 2024
In the verses before today’s Gospel passage our Lord is in a series of debates with various groups of his time, and the debates are rather contentious. Pharisees, Herodians, and Sadducees were debating with the Lord and they were seeking to entrap him. The passage today picks up with a scribe, another group of people in Jesus’ time. Scribes were biblical scholars of their day. This scribe notices that Jesus is handling these disputes and answering the questions well. And so, with a sincerity that the other groups could not muster, this scribe asks the Lord “Which is the first of all the commandments?” In other words, which is the most important command in the law?
The reason this was a question and was an item of debate in Jesus’ time is due to the vastness of the Torah and its laws for how faithful Jews should live their status as God’s chosen people. To help us understand the dilemma, consider that later scholars would enumerate some 613 laws. That’s rather daunting, so finding out what is most important has some merit. This is what the scribe asks. It is a very important question.
The Lord’s answer is not surprising. He quotes the prayer known in Hebrew as the Shema. That title is taken from the first word of the prayer. Shema in the Hebrew means “to hear”. The shema is a prayer that calls Jews to listen and hear that they are to love God with all that they are and all that they have. For a Jew, knowing the shema would be something equivalent to our knowing the words of the Lord’s Prayer from Scripture, or our knowing the Creed. It was very familiar, a prayer used daily, and it was no surprise that the Lord highlighted it as his response for the first of all the commandments. In fact, the words of the shema are found in the Book of Deuteronomy and we heard them in the first reading, “Hear, O Israel! The Lord is our God, the Lord alone! Therefore, you shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength.” By naming aspects of human being, like heart, soul, and strength, we should not take that to mean a division of human life carrying with it some erroneous idea that we should love God with only part of ourselves. Rather, the divisions of human being are actually meant to communicate a totality for they represent the deepest unique aspects of what it means to be a human being, a rational creature with powers of mind, emotion, and physical strength.
But, as the Gospel relates, the Lord did not stop by quoting the shema. He continued his response and, this part can be said to be more surprising. Jesus went on to say that after love of God with all that one has, there is a second command that is related to the primacy of that first of all the commands. And the second is, “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” In establishing what you and I today call the Great Command (love of God and love of neighbor), the Lord was offering a synthesis of the many laws taught by the Jews. The Lord is saying that all of them are oriented toward, and ultimately serve, the twofold command to love God first above all things, and to reflect God’s love for others by the love we have for our neighbor as ourself.
This is a lesson and a command that endures and that guides us today. In fact, the scribe’s response to Jesus shows us still more. The scribe notes that to observe this twofold command of love of God and love of neighbor is, he says, “worth more than all burnt offerings and sacrifices.” This claim caught my attention, because the Jewish ritual system of worship is based upon animal sacrifice. Surely, a faithful, knowledgeable, and serious Jew – as a scribe would be – was not suggesting that temple sacrifice has no value, or that temple sacrifice should be abolished. Certainly, not. Rather, Jesus tells the scribe that his answer is good and that he is not far from the kingdom of God, because the scribe highlights what a Jew should understand about temple sacrifice. The type of offering described here, is not the type of sacrifice by which the person takes or eats a part of the sacrifice, as in the case of the Passover lamb. The whole burnt offering was the type of sacrifice by which the entire animal was sacrificed and burnt on the altar. Jesus is pleased with the scribe’s knowledge because the scribe is bringing to the forefront an important lesson for a Jew, a lesson that remains for us too. Namely, a whole burnt offering is supposed to symbolize to the Jew that his entire life and all that he has, all his heart, all his soul, and all his strength are the actual sacrifice that should be given to God. The whole sacrificial animal is a substitute in the sacrificial system; but, the individual person of faith must strive to give all of himself in obedience and submission to God and His commands. In this, such a faithful person is not making empty sacrifice and is not far from the kingdom of God. In this, the sacrifice has meaning and is pleasing to God.
This critical lesson remains for us. It remains for us because the challenge and pitfall in the life of faith is as common among Christians as it would have been among Jews. That challenge and pitfall is as common now as it was in the Lord’s time. And that challenge and pitfall is the tendency to follow God superficially, to do religious things on the surface, to be religious only here in the church walls, but to keep God and our relationship with Him rather distant and focused on the external matters that can be seen. Meanwhile, inside we are not directing all that we are and all that we have to God. The challenge and pitfall is the tendency to permit God only a limited place in our affairs, while keeping Him conveniently out of the affairs of our life that would require more sacrifice, more effort, more conversion. We learn that our entire being must be oriented toward God and His ways. It is not enough to give part of oneself or to give less than all to God. Our offerings are acceptable and valuable when they reflect what is true about ourselves: that we are submitting ourselves to God and His commands. All of ourselves. Every aspect of our lives. If we do not have that interior disposition, then our religious actions and sacrifices, our participation in our worship, like the Holy Mass, would be lacking and may risk being empty. In the Holy Mass we follow a typical pattern: we listen to God’s Word in the Scriptures because, like a scalpel, it cuts through some of the deception and the delusions that we may have if our faith is kept superficial. We move from God’s Word to the Word Made Flesh present on our altars and offered in sacrifice for us, because in that total gift of himself, the Lord models how our sacrifice must be. What sense would it make, in other words, to participate in this sacrifice if I reject that call to give all of myself to God and to love others as I love myself? What sense would it make to come to receive, to take Holy Communion, the Lord’s total gift of himself, and to say “amen,” to say, I believe but then not give all of myself to the Lord in return. We are weak and sinful in this regard, in our resolve to avoid being superficial. And so, thanks be to God, we can repent and be healed in confession. Charity and service to others stretches us in our tendency to be superficial. Ultimately, like that Jewish prayer the shema, we are to hear and to listen to the truth that God loves us completely and we are most fully alive and complete when we likewise love Him in return. May we strive then to do away with being superficial in our religious life and practice so that we may be consoled by those hopeful words of Jesus: “You are not far from the kingdom of God.”
All Edmond Eucharistic Procession
Stephenson Park Temporary Altar
Sermon: Mark 15:16-20
27 October 2024
This day – the Lord’s Day – is about Jesus Christ! This incredible blessing uniting all Catholics from the three parishes in Edmond is about Jesus Christ! He is the one God who made the universe, all it contains, and who made us, giving us life in His image and likeness. He is the one God who had a plan to restore the original blessing that He generously bestowed, after man’s original sin brought about the fall. He is the God who loves you, who loves each of us, such that He comes to save us from our inclination to sin, to save us from the personal sins for which we each bear guilt. In His divine love, He comes in our very flesh to pay the price for the sin that risks our eternal separation from Him in the condemnation of Hell. As He approached the horror of the Cross for our salvation, He promised, as the Scriptures record, that he would not leave us orphans (cf. Jn. 14:18). As the apostles and the first Christians came to accept his promise that he is the bread of life, the bread come down from heaven (cf. Jn. 6), they came to accept that precisely in the Breaking of the Bread, precisely in the smallness of the Sacred Host, our Blessed Lord fulfills his promise to not abandon us and to remain with us to the end of the age (cf. Mt. 28:20).
As Jesus said, so the Scriptures record, and so we believe these words of our Blessed Lord, “For my flesh is food indeed, and my blood is drink indeed. He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him” (Jn. 6:55-56). In this we are filled with hope and we are not alone! For most of us here we have come to participate today already making an act of faith that with us and before us in the Most Blessed Sacrament of the Altar is Jesus Christ our Savior, just as he said. But no doubt, that are many doing their own things today, surprised to find themselves caught up with this procession of Catholics, and maybe having no idea what they are witnessing here. To any other bystanders who are willing to listen: If you believe that Jesus is God and if you believe that the Bible is God’s Word to us then you are already on this procession with us, on this journey that is a call to deeper communion with the Lord in his Church, a journey that leads to salvation in Heaven. Other bystanders may not yet be Christian or not even a believer, this gathering is a reminder that you are invited to join with us, men and women of good will, to consider the journey you are on, to consider where you are going, and to consider whether you are, and where you are, with God on that journey. Today, we give witness that we believe that God is actually present with us, in the midst of this world He made to be good. He is really here!
Why would we believe such a thing? Why believe that God is with us and has anything to do, or any care, for this world in which we find ourselves? First of all, God is involved with this world because He has created it and it is destined to return to Him. The great event of the Incarnation shows us the nearness of God to this world. The Son of God so unites Himself to His creation, that He takes on human flesh and takes up residence in this realm, Jesus the Christ. And, the Gospel gives us a further reason for God’s nearness to the world because it shows us an encounter between the divine and the profane in a civic setting. In the Gospel, the Lord and the world meet. In the passage we heard, Jesus is not in a religious setting or location. He is in the praetorium, which is the headquarters of the Roman authorities, the location of Pilate and the cohort of soldiers who mock Jesus and lead him to death. By this point in the passage, Pilate has already sentenced the Lord to death and he has been scourged. He is beaten and bloodied. For however the vicious Roman scourging may have made his humanity and identity as Jesus unrecognizable, all the more would such a horrendous sight make his identity as God unrecognizable, even unbelievable. Yet, in that civic setting, in the midst of the profane, despite all protestations to the contrary, despite man’s inability to recognize or accept it… God Himself was present! Though submitting Himself to the twisted ways of man, our Lord was fully in command of what he was doing as God to suffer and die for our salvation, the salvation of the world and the souls He had made. And He was doing all this right in the midst of the world and in the midst of the seat of civic authority.
We experience some of that here today. Today, also in a civic setting God Himself is present despite any protestations to the contrary, despite man’s inability to recognize it. God Himself is here asking us to carry Him, just as He has done in various moments of salvation history: whether in the ark of the covenant, whether as a newborn Infant in Mary’s arms, whether being lifted up on the Cross, whether in the smallness of the Sacred Host in the hands of a priest… God Himself is here and He is asking us to carry Him into all the places He intends to go… into our holy places and sanctuaries, into our souls by grace, and, yes, even into our profane spaces, into our civic spaces where so-called “ordinary life” should not be separated from the realities of the kingdom to come. For the “real world” as we so often call it would be very unreal indeed if separated from its foundation and destiny in God who created it, who cares for it, and calls it back to Himself. This procession can serve as a reminder that we are called to carry the Lord into all things. We are called to carry him in faith and how we live that faith, such that we, members of the Body of Christ, give witness to others by our words and actions that Jesus is with us and that he is Lord! We are called to carry Him about in our moral choices. We are called to carry him in the words we speak by which we might evangelize others. We are called to carry Him about in our service to the poor and those about whom the Lord said, “When you did these things to one of the least of my brothers and sisters, you did it to me” (Mt. 25:40). We are called to carry Him about in how we organize this secular city of man, so that it more greatly reflects the order of the City of God. We are in a moment now and through election day that gives us a privileged opportunity to exercise our moral duty to vote with our Catholic values in the hopes that we do our part to bring our city, state, and nation into greater conformity to the Kingdom of God. The timing of this procession is a great witness and reminder that we should carry the Lord into our precints when we vote. The Gospel passage today tells us in no uncertain terms that the Lord’s kingship belongs also in our civic spaces as he continues to accomplish his work of salvation in the souls of our time and place: the souls of the Pontius Pilates of our time, the souls of the soldiers of our time, the souls of religious authorities of our time, the souls of all the ordinary men and women, boys and girls, of every time and place. As Catholics we believe that patriotism is a virtue. Patriotism is a call to devotion and service to the land of our forefathers. There is no patriotism greater than devotion first of all to the Father of all, the Father and Creator of this land. As happened in the Gospel, when some meet the Lord in civic spaces the result may be an occasion for sarcasm, mockery, and rejection. But we who are believers serve as signposts today, pointing our contemporaries to the real presence of God with us. By prayer and fasting, which I beg of you to take up in these next days, we serve to pray for our nation in this electoral cycle, praying that good and godly candidates be chosen to lead us. We serve both by the reverence of our bodies and the sincerity of words to truly mean that acclamation: Hail, King of the Jews! Hail, Christ our King! We commit ourselves today to carry our Lord into all the activities and places of our lives. We give the Lord thanks for remaining with us. And we ask that we may be more docile to his grace so that, unlike the mockery of the soldiers, we may truly reverence him as the king of every aspect of our lives, the king of our parishes, the king of our city, state and nation.
Dominica XXVII per Annum B
Gen. 2:18-24; Ps. 128; Heb. 2:9-11; Mk. 10:2-12 (shorter form)
6 October 2024
The Pharisees test Jesus in the Gospel passage by asking about marriage and divorce. The force of Jesus’ response remains powerful still today in an age marked by many challenges in relationships. The Pharisees indicate that Moses permitted a “bill” of divorce. Jesus responds to the Pharisees by himself quoting the Book of Genesis and taking them back to “the beginning.” It’s like saying, see how far you have strayed… get back to God’s original idea and mind.
As difficult as this divine teaching from Jesus is for our ears in this age, it was likewise difficult for Jesus’ contemporaries in the Gospel scene. They, like we, live in a culture where divorce is widely known and accepted. There were different opinions about legitimate grounds for divorce in the Lord’s time, some more permissive, and some more restrictive, but the reason the Pharisees can even ask this question at all is because the legitimacy of divorce is assumed in Jewish society, since Moses had developed a policy for it. It is probably very difficult for us to comprehend just how shocking Jesus’ answer was. Moses is a revered authority in Judaism, but the Lord’s response reveals a flawed concession in Moses’ policy. He tells the Pharisees that, yes, Moses allowed divorce, but he did so because of sin, the hardness of heart that kept God’s People from receiving the very Word of God. And then, the next shocking move, by reinterpreting Scripture and, specifically the teaching from the Book of Genesis, Jesus says that divorce is not possible and that no human authority can separate what God has joined. At the very same time, then, and this would shock them, Jesus is indicating that he and his teaching are of a higher authority than that of the revered Moses. We get another glimpse of just how surprising this must all have been when the next verse tells us that the disciples wait until a bit later, in the privacy of a house, to circle back and ask Jesus again, as if to say, “Earlier, when you said divorce is not part of God’s design for marriage, did we hear you correctly?” The Lord doubles down and says: The man who divorces his wife and marries another commits adultery; and, the woman who divorces her husband and marries another commits adultery.
The same serious challenge confronts us as we hear this Gospel. The larger question for us is whether we will listen to God’s Word and accept it as saving teaching to guide us, or whether we will listen more to the hardness of our hearts and our own struggles with sin, looking for concessions around divine teaching. The context here in the Gospel is about marriage and divorce, but truthfully the implications are much broader. Will we admit that divine teaching cannot be changed by us and that it makes demands upon us? Even though our minds and our wills, darkened by the fall of original sin, struggle to grasp and to do what is good and right, will we admit that divine teaching is actually better for us and makes us more fulfilled, despite our challenges with obedience?
As the Lord referred to Genesis in his response about divorce, I also want to turn to that passage, which served as our first reading today. I think refocusing on Genesis leaves us with the positive teaching that is the foundation of these difficult words in the Gospel. What we learn in Genesis is that God Himself has designed the relationship of marriage. By making us male and female, and establishing a unity among man and woman in marriage in the very act of creation, God has made marriage to serve as a sign of Himself and His own unity with and love for us, His creation. Furthermore, in the New Covenant, endowed by the saving grace issuing forth from the Lord’s Cross and Resurrection, marriage stands as the covenantal sign of Christ and his Church. Christian marriage is to be marked by the positive goods of unity, indissolubility, and openness to the blessing of children, by which marriage reflects the way God unites Himself to us (unity), the way God draws us to eternal life, never separating Himself from us (indissolubility), and the way God’s love issues forth for us in the new life of grace, especially eternal life in Heaven (fecundity).
This is the positive truth about marriage in our Catholic teaching. This truth is actually better for us than what the world proposes. This truth remains unchanged even when our sinfulness and doubts would have us believe things about marriage that are not consistent with God’s mind for marriage. One final lesson from the Book of Genesis is instructive, I think, for understanding the type of sacrifice required of us to embrace even hard teachings, and this particular teaching on marriage. When I consider how it is that the suitable partner, Eve, is made for Adam, it involves that well-known image and story of God casting Adam into sleep in order to take a rib from him and fashion the woman. If we accept that divine teaching is better for us, even as it places demands upon us, then we can learn something from this act of creation that can inspire how we view marriage and, honestly, how we embrace any teaching of faith that strikes us as difficult. What can we say that Adam learns when God finally makes Eve and he, Adam, first lays eyes upon her? We can say Adam learns that he is no longer alone and his life has meaning and, in fact, is better when he makes sacrifice and gives of himself. When he gives up his own flesh and blood, imaged in the rib, he awakes to that nuptial cry of the “finally!”, the cry of “This one, at last!” is the suitable partner. It is precisely in laying down his life, precisely in giving of himself, even his very flesh and blood, that Adam finds meaning and purpose in his very being and in his living. Yes, it requires sacrifice, but the nuptial cry of Adam, his “this one at last!”, anticipates the cry of Jesus from the Cross: “It is finished”; and, Adam’s gift of himself anticipates that difficult lesson that each disciple must accept: the way to follow the Lord, the way to be satisfied in this life, the way to lasting peace, the way to eternal life is by embracing God’s teaching, especially when difficult, and rejecting the worldly message that speaks to, and seems to make sense to, a darkened mind and a fallen world. The lesson of Adam’s sacrifice and self-giving, whereby true meaning and life are found, remains for us, too, no matter how difficult it may be to accept God’s teachings, no matter how challenging it may be for us, no matter how our cultural forces may reject such teaching and make concessions due to hardness of heart. Yes, we can admit this is difficult, it can bring suffering, it requires us to embrace the cross; but, in so doing we learn what Adam learned in his self-giving that resulted in Eve, and we learn to be like the Lord, the leader of our salvation who was made perfect through suffering (second reading).
Dominica XXV per Annum B
22 September 2024
For the second Sunday in a row we hear the Lord teaching and telling the disciples about the prediction of his passion. This is the second of three passion predictions in St. Mark. We see hear once again, as we did last Sunday, that the disciples don’t get it. In fact, it is embarrassing that as the Lord predicts his passion they are busy predicting who might fill the leadership vacuum by arguing who is greatest among them. In last Sunday’s passage, the Lord had to confront the tendency to think only as human beings do. Trying to understand the plan of salvation with only human thinking simply will not work and will not result in appreciating the serious call that we must confront the tendency to think as human beings do and we must convert. We must change. Following the path of salvation means our sinful ways must be put to death in order that we can rise to a new life, a redeemed life. Thinking as human beings do by rejecting suffering will meet the sharp rebuke we heard St. Peter receive last Sunday. In this Sunday’s passage, the Lord confronts the tendency to reject humility, the tendency to think of oneself as greater, to exalt oneself. This is precisely what was occupying the attention of the disciples as they walked along with Jesus. These two Sunday passion predictions teach us that the Lord’s way – and therefore, our way to being saved – is through suffering and humility.
The first reading reinforces the lesson of suffering. This matches up with last Sunday’s first reading from the Prophet Isaiah. Last Sunday’s first reading was taken from the section of Isaiah that references the chosen servant of the Lord who will undergo suffering and persecution. In fact, that section of Isaiah is called the suffering servant section. That theme continues in today’s first reading, the Book of Wisdom, where the wicked seek to test the just one by revilement, torture, and condemnation to a shameful death. The second reading from St. James brings into particular focus the need to embrace humility as a virtue for godly life. When we embrace suffering we do penance for our sins and we are transformed by an opportunity in faith to be like the Lord, the suffering servant. In such conformity to the Lord we can grow in grace. Humility is also a way in which we become like the Lord. We are encouraged to humility when St James writes, “Where jealousy and selfish ambition exist, there is disorder and every foul practice”. This is the dangerous path the disciples were on even as they seemed so near to the path of the Lord. They are silenced for shame when, inside the house in today’s gospel passage, Jesus asks them, “What were you arguing about on the way”? The phrase “the way” became an early reference to Christians and the first roots of the Church. When the gospel reveals “they had been discussing among themselves on the way who was the greatest” we can look back today and see an irony about the use of that term “the way”. We learn that we are not members of “the way” if the way we are on is one that rejects humility and suffering. For as the Lord must suffer in humility, we must also embrace the same path if we are truly united to Christ.
The virtue of humility is a call to be grounded in the truth. Authentic humility does not exalt oneself above what is true. And, on the flip side, authentic humility does not pretend that one is lower than one is. We all have gifts and talents that we are given to use for others, to build up others and to build up the Church. We should not exalt ourselves above what is true; but we also should not deny our gifts or refuse to use them out of some false humility. Rather, we are grounded in what is true. We are grounded in the truth that we are not god, but His creatures. We are grounded in reverencing God by using well the gifts we have been given. If the gospel passage were written today, the disciples would have been arguing about who was the G.O.A.T. (the Greatest Of All Time). So, the virtue of humility is something needed in our time too. The image of a child, small, dependent, and without legal rights in the ancient world becomes a symbol of humility. By humility we are drawn into the very inner life of God, the inner life of the Blessed Trinity. Though absolute and almighty in power and authority, God pours Himself out in Trinitarian life, He pours Himself out in humility to create and to save us. In suffering, God freely gives His entire being to pay the price for ours sins and to open before us the way to everlasting life. We remain on that path when we maintain our unity with Christ our Head as members of His Body. Where Christ, the humble and suffering servant has gone, we, too, are called to follow.
Homily for the Twenty-fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading 1 Wis 2:12, 17-20
Responsorial Psalm Ps 54:3-4, 5, 6 and 8
Reading 2 Jas 3:16—4:3
Alleluia Cf. 2 Thes 2:14
Gospel Mk 9:30-37
Dominica XXIV per Annum B
15 September 2024
The Gospel passage is St. Mark’s accounting of the first of three predictions of the Lord’s passion. The Lord wants to know who people say he is. We can learn a lesson from this passage that it is not sufficient to simply identify Jesus, or to know his Name, or to claim that he is the Christ. In order to benefit from relationship with the Lord, a disciple must be able to not only identify Jesus and use his title “Christ”; the disciple must also accept the content of how Jesus will be the Christ. The disciple must also be conformed to the same way of life.
We learn that there is more than just being able to name Jesus, or call him one’s Lord and the Christ, from how Jesus teaches that he must suffer greatly, be rejected, be killed, and rise again. That lesson is brought into sharper focus still when the Lord rebukes Peter for rejecting how he will be the Christ. Peter’s refusal to accept how the Lord will be the Lord is met with those stinging words: “Get behind me, Satan. You are thinking not as God does, but as human beings do.” Peter wants to tell the Lord how things should be and how to accomplish his mission. We have to rebuke that same tendency in ourselves to think as human beings do when we seek to avoid struggle and suffering, meanwhile being very quick to satisfy our every desire with all the things of this life that feel good. The Lord’s description that he must suffer, die, and rise tells us that the way of suffering is not just a circumstance of his life, it is not just something passive that happens to him. Rather, he must suffer, die, and rise. That tells us that this path of suffering is a necessity and the precise manner in which he will fulfill his mission. And to be clear, the mission is not simply the suffering, but it is always connected to the resurrection.
We learn still more in this passage. Namely, we are taught that the disciple must imitate the Lord and must be conformed to his way of life. That means that the way of suffering is not just a secondary, or a passive circumstance for us either. We cannot call upon the Lord using his Name and acknowledging his title as “Christ” in any meaningful way if we do not also accept in our own lives that path of suffering leading to resurrection. It must be a way of life for us too. That way of suffering is not to be viewed as some fatalistic nihilism where we think of ourselves as worthless. No, we are beloved children of God. We must rather grow in trust in God and recognize that, in a fallen nature, we can easily feed every whim and desire we have, we can keep the body feeling satisfied, while being far less dedicated to putting our own sin to death. In falling to that easy tendency to have everything this life can offer, we end up on the mistaken path of saving our life here, only to lose it in the life to come. But in conforming ourselves to the suffering Lord as a path we, too, must follow, we are able to lose the temporary values of this life and be saved for the life to come. In this insistence of Jesus we learn that there are two meanings of “life”. We see this in other passages of the gospels too. There is natural life in this earthly realm. But there is also supernatural life in the world to come. We are mistaken and lost if we seek only to feed our natural life here and now. The necessary path to the supernatural life of salvation is to imitate Jesus in his suffering, death, and resurrection.
Our lives here, then, should be marked by penance and mortifications that help us train ourselves in trust of God and in disciplining the ways we seek to be full of passing goods in this life. A disciple is not on the path of the Lord if he fills up every natural desire and meanwhile makes his life seem “spiritual” by using Jesus’ Name or calling him the Christ. What we say with our lips needs to be backed up with its full meaning. The Lord teaches us today how he will be the Christ and therefore how we must be Christians. The attempt to have it another way is asking for the same type of rebuke Peter received. We must avoid the trap of thinking only as human beings do.
The way of a disciple is not a passive thing by which we simply use the title Christian. Jesus says, “Whoever wishes to come after me”. That term “wishes” indicates an active desire to live a saved life. Being passive as a Christian or wearing the title Christian like a label does not work. We likewise must train ourselves through the difficulties of life (and we can admit how difficult this work is) to grow in trust of the Lord whatever may come, whatever the struggles and sufferings, whatever the crosses are. When we practice penance and mortifications – and not only in the season of Lent to be clear! – we are being conformed to the Lord. When we repent of our sins and the ways we give so much attention to our natural life, to the detriment of supernatural life, we are embracing the cross. What our lips speak about Jesus being the Lord and master of our life must be backed up by action. That’s perhaps why the Church chooses the second reading for today from St. James, who writes: “faith of itself, if it does not have works, is dead”. What our lips speak about Jesus must be backed up by how we commit to Sunday worship. That we say that Jesus is the Christ is backed up by how we use our treasures and give sacrificially to others. It is backed up by how we vote our values so that the world is ordered in greater conformity to God’s kingdom. We profess that Jesus is the Christ, and we truly mean it, when we deal a lethal blow to our sins, and live our vocations in a way pleasing to God. What we say on our lips is backed up when we stop wasting so much time with frivolity in entertainment and social media, while claiming we don’t have enough time for prayer or the life of the soul. We are taught that “to think as God does” means that the Son of Man must suffer and then rise again. Whoever wishes to come after him… must do the same.
Homily for the Twenty-second Sunday in Ordinary Time by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading 1 Dt 4:1-2, 6-8
Responsorial Psalm Ps 15:2-3, 3-4, 4-5
Reading 2 Jas 1:17-18, 21b-22, 27
Alleluia Jas 1:18
Gospel Mk 7:1-8, 14-15, 21-23
Assumption of the BVM
15 August 2024
Anytime we honor the Blessed Virgin Mary, as we do today in her assumption, the honor is closely tied to the ark of the covenant. Mary, in fact, is called the New Ark or the Ark of the New Covenant in theological writings and among spiritual authors. This connection to the ark is no surprise since the Scriptures make this connection. We saw it in the first reading from the Book of Revelation. There we have St. John’s vision of the heavens opened up and he sees the ark in the temple. And immediately, in the next verses it goes on to make the connection, saying a “great sign appeared in the sky, a woman clothed with the sun”. We see that image of the woman as an image of the Blessed Virgin Mary.
How do you think the Jews thought of the ark of the Old Covenant? Let’s consider some things the Scriptures tell us about that ark. Only the Old Covenant Levitical priests could carry it. No one else could touch it, under pain of being struck dead (as happened in some passages). The ark was carried in procession as God’s people journeyed through life in their wanderings toward the Promised Land. It accompanied them in battle as they faced hostile forces from other peoples. The ark was the privileged meeting place of God with them. But, the ark was not God Himself. It was a powerful sign that God was near and in the midst of His people. The ark contained signs of God’s presence, but no one thought the receptacle, the box itself, was somehow God. Now, I want to ask, doesn’t all that sound like utmost respect and honor for the ark? Do you think anyone among the Jews would have discounted the importance of the ark? Or do you think anyone would have claimed that honoring the ark might confuse people into thinking the ark itself was God? No. And it’s the same with Mary, the ark of the New Covenant.
In addition to my work as a priest, I have other interests and things I am involved in outside of parish work. Not all of those things are necessarily religious in nature. Recently I was speaking to the organizer of one group I work with. It’s not a religious group, but is involved in things in the public square. The organizer is a sincere bible-believing Protestant. He said to me, “You do good work for us… with or without the Rosary”. Now, he wasn’t trying to be disrespectful and I didn’t take it that way. His comment wasn’t the strongest of criticisms, but it did demonstrate a misunderstanding. I said to him in response, “Oh, I assure you, any good you think I do is most definitely with the Rosary and with devotion to Mary, the mother of our Savior”. I share this with you to say, don’t let anyone confuse you into thinking that Marian devotion, or things like the Rosary or litanies or processions, or things we use as part of our devotion to Mary are somehow inappropriate. Don’t let anyone get away with claiming that honoring her is contrary to Scripture. No, like the ark of the Old Covenant, she accompanies us on procession in the journey of this life. She accompanies us as we face difficulties and struggles and must battle against sin to grow in holiness. She reminds us powerfully that God is near. How could she do anything other? It was in her that God came to dwell and from her that He took human flesh in order to unite Himself to us. And like the ark of old, in all of this honor and devotion, we do not somehow think that she is God.
But we honor Mary for far more important reasons. Mary is more than just a receptacle, a “container”, where God came to dwell. We honor her and are devoted to her because she is the premier disciple. We are devoted to her because her entire life was marked by the mystery of salvation in Jesus Christ. And we are called to allow the paschal mystery of Jesus, his suffering, death, and resurrection, to mark our lives too. We see something of this in the second reading from the First Letter of St. Paul to the Corinthians. St. Paul writes, “Christ has been raised from the dead, the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep…. For just as in Adam all die, so too in Christ shall all be brought to life, but each one in proper order: Christ the firstfruits; then, at his coming, those who belong to Christ”. St. Paul teaches us that we bear the mark of Adam in the natural order, meaning that our nature is fallen and we experience disorder, dissolution, and death. But by spiritual adoption from God, we bear the mark of life in Christ, in the spiritual order. If we follow this life in Christ as his disciples, we follow that proper order so that we are brought to life. After Christ, we celebrate that Mary’s entire life was marked by the mystery of salvation. We celebrate that she followed her son into heavenly life. And for this reason, she is the model and the sign to us of God’s nearness and our part in being raised to life in Christ. We honor Mary and celebrate her because through her we have the powerful reminder that God is near and acting in our midst. Therefore, our hope and encouragement is that our life too can be marked by the same reward of Heaven!
Dominica XIX per Annum B
11 August 2024
We are currently in a tour through the sixth chapter of St. John’s Gospel, known as the Bread of Life discourse. This chapter is a prime location of Jesus’ teaching about the Holy Eucharist, that ordinary bread and wine become his Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity in the Blessed Sacrament of the Altar. So important is this element of our faith, that it can be said, we are not truly catholic if we do not accept that the bread and wine consecrated at Holy Mass in the Catholic Church are the Lord’s true Body and Blood. Notice that I did not say: we are not truly catholic if we do not understand how bread and wine become the Body and Blood of Jesus. No, not understanding is one thing, and it can be improved and perfected. But not accepting, refusing to accept, makes one not catholic. Our affirmation of the clear scriptural teaching about bread and wine becoming the true and real Body and Blood of Jesus is something that requires from us an act of faith; faith that Jesus is God and he does what he says.
In this third Sunday installment from John chapter 6, we are getting to the threshold of Jesus’ teaching that his Body and Blood are food for disciples, and that he will give us this food in the Holy Eucharist. But before we hear that next weekend, the Lord focuses attention on the manna, this bread from heaven, that the Jewish ancestors had received in the desert wanderings. The Lord is using the manna to reveal two mysteries: the mystery of his divinity and, then, the mystery of the Holy Eucharist. This weekend I want to focus our attention on only the first mystery, what precedes the teaching on the Holy Eucharist, namely the divinity of Jesus and the pre-requisite that we accept that Jesus is God.
In the Gospel selection today, the Lord uses the manna as a metaphor, as a sign which serves to communicate that he has come down from heaven. In other words, the foundational lesson before we hear the Lord teach forcefully about the Holy Eucharist, is that just like the manna came down from heaven and was divine in origin, likewise Jesus is divine in origin. He is the Bread of Life come down from heaven. This is an important revelation that Jesus is claiming to be God. And this revelation demands belief. In fact, to first believe and express faith in the divinity of Jesus, makes it much easier to accept the next step – namely, that he gives himself as food and makes bread and wine become his Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity. Thus, we can see how important it is that we consider the implications that Jesus is God. This cannot be only something we say, as words on the lips. It needs to be something that changes the way we live and the way we prioritize things in life. Jesus is God. He has come into our midst in the world. He loves us. He saves us. And He does not abandon us. He remains with us by the Holy Spirit dwelling within us in the Church. And a particular gift of His presence is that the Holy Eucharist is his very self. The manna came down from heaven. Jesus teaches that he is the true manna. He has come down from heaven, meaning he is God incarnate. If we can accept that Jesus is God, how could we fail to accept that he makes bread and wine into his very self?
This teaching in John 6 sort of takes us all back to simpler days in second grade when a young catholic prepares to receive Holy Communion for the first time. Ask a Catholic in second grade what the Holy Eucharist is and he will say, “It is Jesus”. Ask the child how that can be, and he might say, “I don’t know. But Jesus is God and He said so. He makes it happen.” And you know what? That is true, and that is enough to have sufficient catholic faith in the Holy Eucharist! Now, as we grow we want to have our understanding grow too. I am not saying our childhood, or teenage, or young adult faith should not grow. I am not saying we should stay with that second-grade proclamation. No, we should seek to understand more as we age. But the bottom line is that Jesus is God and if we believe that, then what he says about his flesh being true food in the Holy Eucharist is easier to accept in fidelity to what he clearly teaches in John 6 (which we will hear next weekend).
The first mystery that is revealed by referencing the manna from the Old Testament is that Jesus is asking his listeners to believe that he is God. He is asking for faith from them and from us who hear his words today. The response of the listeners in the Gospel passage reveals that they understand what Jesus is demanding of them. Several times we hear that his listeners are murmuring about this and casting doubt amongst themselves. The whole context here is instructive. What was the chief struggle for God’s people as they wandered the desert for 40 years? The struggle was to believe in the one true God and that God was with them as they suffered in the harsh atmosphere of the desert. The struggle was to believe that God had not abandoned them, but that He cared for them, and was providing for them. In the desert they murmured. They complained. And they doubted. This is similar to what is going on in the gospel. In today’s passage, we have still more evidence of the refusal to believe in the way the Jews react to Jesus’ claim that he has come down from heaven. They say, “Is this not… the son of Joseph? Do we not know his father and mother? Then how can he say, ‘I have come down from heaven’?”
I want to challenge us to confront our own murmurings, by which I mean, the ways we do not accept that Jesus is God, or doubt that he is near and working among us. I want to focus on two ways we might struggle with murmurings. The first is easy to name, it is the murmuring that rejects wholesale that Jesus is God. It is a murmuring of apostasy or atheism, the refusal to believe that Jesus is God. I doubt such murmuring marks many of us here. But if that type of murmuring does mark you, then you want to confess it and act against it by seeking to build your faith, praying that God give you the gift of faith, and seeking friendship among believers, which can serve to encourage your faith. The second form of murmuring, can be harder to define, and it may well be something we believers need to confront. To identify this type of murmuring, this limiting of Jesus, we might ask ourselves, does our stated faith that Jesus is God matter to us? Do we let that faith make demands on our life? Is that stated faith visible in how we live, in how we prioritize our life, and the things we do each day? This way of confronting murmuring is the call to move from faith on the lips only, to a faith that rests our security, our present life, and future life on the truth that Jesus is God and He is with us. This second type of murmuring can mark even us. Is God a priority in my life? I might never dream of skipping Sunday Mass, but Monday through Friday… is there much evidence that God is a priority? Do I seek to grow in awareness of the presence of God by daily prayer, frequent confession, and worthy reception of Holy Communion as often as possible? Or do I let the day get away from me, with barely a moment given to pray? Do I come to God only when I think I need something, or when I want something? Do I treat God as a type of vending machine? I come on my terms and expect Him to pump out what I want when I give Him the slightest attention. Is my vision about life in this world, a godly vision? Do I see my life and the world around me as created to be good and profoundly loved by God? Is there anything I owe God with the gift of my life? And will I give it? Unknowingly, have the struggles in my life, my “desert wanderings”, caused me to live as a Christian in such a way that I am really murmuring against the Lord, doubting his ability as God? When we confront our murmuring, and seek to reject it, it makes living the faith a more vibrant thing. It makes coming to the sacraments something more rich. It makes it easier to give time to God in prayer. It makes sacrificial giving of my resources easier too. It makes it possible to respond to my vocation, believing that God will give me what I need to accomplish it. Rejecting our murmuring so that we grow in faith, makes us more receptive to all the blessings God wants to give us, but which our lack of faith can stifle. Jesus said, “No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draw him.” In other words, for us to believe in God it is necessary that we let Him pour out His grace upon us. So, will we do the things that can help faith and strengthen it? Or will we do the bare minimum in our murmuring? Before we get to belief in the Holy Eucharist, we need to first work on the lesson of today’s Gospel passage: the call to believe that Jesus is God. As we have these privileged weeks to reflect on our Catholic faith in the Holy Eucharist, I want to encourage you to acknowledge wherever you are in your faith and to consider what murmurings can tend to creep in. Especially as regards growing in proper Eucharistic faith, I want to encourage you to come before the Lord in our chapel for adoration. Even if you don’t think you have enough Catholic faith in the Holy Eucharist, the place to start is to acknowledge Jesus as God. Come to be in the godly place of our chapel and ask the Lord to reveal Himself to you so that you know him to be God, and so that your faith in the Holy Eucharist can grow. Prepare yourself in advance for Holy Mass, reading the Sunday readings and naming what specific intentions or prayers you have for each Mass, things and needs you want to lift up at Mass when the priest lifts up the offerings at the altar. These practices can help to prepare each of us for stronger faith and for what the Lord said in the midst of the murmuring in the Gospel, “It is written in the prophets: They shall all be taught by God.”
Dominica XVI per Annum B
21 July 2024
We have a rather brief Gospel passage today that draws upon prophecy from the Old Testament. The first reading from the Prophet Jeremiah gives us some insight into the background of the Gospel passage. The prophet Jeremiah speaks of wicked and sinful shepherds who mislead and scatter the flock. The sinfulness of their religious authorities, leads God’s people into idolatry and dissolves their proper identity. Ten of the twelve tribes of God’s people settle in the north and these ten tribes come to be called Israel. The remaining two tribes in the south come to be called Judah. Israel, the ten tribes in the north, pay the price for their idolatry when they are invaded by Assyria and taken away into exile. From there, they are scattered among the Gentile nations in the region, mixed in with other peoples, such that they are lost, their proper bloodline cannot be identified. Using the image from Jeremiah, the sheep have been scattered and driven away and bad shepherds have contributed to this. Jeremiah goes on to prophecy about God’s solution. God Himself will gather the remnant of the flock and he will appoint new shepherds over the people. This is to take place in the time of the Messiah, for Jeremiah says the promise that God Himself will do this will take place when a shoot is raised up from David. And then both Judah and Israel will be saved and will dwell in security.
In the Gospel we are in the time of the Messiah. Jesus is identified with the promise of a righteous shoot from David. Jesus is the priest, the prophet, and the king whose throne will last forever. He is also the shepherd who will fulfill what Jeremiah said. Jesus, the Good Shepherd, associates other shepherds with his work. He establishes a hierarchy in his kingdom. In the Gospel, we see that the Lord has sent the apostles out to begin their work as shepherds. In the Gospel passage they return to report to the Lord all that has taken place. And people are responding with great enthusiasm. In fact, the response to the proclamation of the Gospel is so great and exhausting that the apostles don’t even have time to eat and need to pull away to rest. The vast crowds pressing around Jesus and around the apostles call to mind the image hanging in the air from Jeremiah and other prophets regarding God’s people who had been scattered by past exile. The remnant sheep are indeed being gathered from distant places and brought to graze in good pasture where none shall be missing. The sheep are being gathered by Jesus himself, but also by other shepherds the Lord chooses to associate with this work.
When Jesus saw the vast crowd responding to this work his heart was moved with pity. What he does next, how he responds to this movement of pity is telling. The Gospel says that the Lord began to teach them many things. The Lord recognized that a deeper hunger and longing was drawing the crowds to respond. The people are leaving their homes and their work to come and hear the good news because they ultimately hunger for more than physical food. They hunger to know God, to know God’s love and to have salvation. They hunger to know truth.
I want to make two applications from this brief gospel passage. The Lord looks upon us with pity and compassion too. The spirit of the world, the spirit of this age, is marked by confusion about truth. In this sense, Pontius Pilate can serve as an example of the spirit of the world in his interrogation of Jesus before the crucifixion, when Pilate asks, “What is truth?” Just as there is the story of the Good News, the world also has its own secular narrative. Our modern means of communication help that narrative to be spread far and wide such that vast crowds accept the secular message. To the degree that the world’s narrative is lacking truth, or even downright false, souls in our age can be scattered in exile like sheep without a shepherd. But the Lord, the Good Shepherd, has pity on us. And so, he desires to teach us. He has established his Church and associated other shepherds with him so that we may be taught.
Thus, the first application of this Gospel is, we ourselves must be interested in being taught, so that we are fed with truth that comes from the Lord and is communicated in every age through his Church. We let the Lord teach us when we listen to his Church and study saving doctrine. We also let the Lord teach us when we take responsibility to study the Scriptures and the faith. We don’t have to become scholars or academics, but we should put forth some effort to be informed of sacred teaching and truth. To not study and know the teachings of Jesus will result in feeding on half-truths and lies, which leads to being shepherded more by the spirt of the world than by Jesus.
The second application is, we ourselves need to be willing to speak the truth to others. In this way, we are like the apostles who are sent out to other sheep. We have received saving teaching not only for ourselves, but to share. We need to respond with pity and compassion to people’s deeper hunger by speaking the truth. We should instruct our children properly and we should be willing to speak to others in our places of work, in social gatherings, in politics, and in encounters during our ordinary day. This is not always easy, but it is our duty. Our sharing of sacred teaching, of truth, may be rejected, but that does not absolve us from sharing first of all our living relationship with Jesus and the teaching that goes hand-in-hand with responding to the narrative of the Gospel.
We first need to have a living relationship with Jesus. And we must be interested both in knowing the truth and in sharing it with others so that the vast crowds of our day, like sheep without a shepherd, may experience the love of God and be saved.
Dominica XIV per Annum B
7 July 2024
Last weekend we had the great joy of celebrating the ordination and First Solemn Mass of Fr. Stephen Jones, a son of this parish. He came home from seminary to his native place and gathered here with family and friends from his hometown…. And I’m just grateful that his First Mass wasn’t this weekend because this Gospel passage might have made things a bit awkward. Jesus came to his native place. The people took offense at him. And he could not do many mighty works there. We were privileged to see the signs of God’s work in a new priest, the third son of our parish ordained to the priesthood since 2017. Thanks be to God and thank you for supporting Fr. Jones as he has prepared for this day!
The selection of the first reading foreshadows and sets the theme of Jesus being rejected as a prophet. In the first reading, Ezekiel is given the vocation to be a prophet. He has the unenviable task of being sent to a people who will reject him and his message: “Son of man, I am sending you to the Israelites, rebels who have rebelled against me”. Ezekiel was a priest in the Jerusalem temple and it was a time of great hardness of heart and grave sin, even among the priests of the temple. Ezekiel had to be a prophet to these rebels warning of the coming destruction of the temple. In this, we can understand a foreshadowing of the Lord. He will come and he will be rejected by his own native place and by the religious leaders and authorities in Jerusalem, the same place that hears the warning from Ezekiel.
In the chapters leading up to Mark 6 Jesus has been on a steady march performing mighty signs and speaking words of wisdom. It comes to a depressing halt in Mark 6 in today’s passage. The power that disease, demons, and death could not stop, now is stopped by what we learn is a stronger obstacle: unbelief, lack of faith. The Gospel passage tells us that Jesus’ hometown lacked faith and therefore “he was not able to perform any mighty deed there”. “He was amazed at their lack of faith”.
We learn that faith is a critical doorway, an entry point for Jesus’ operation, his working within souls. We know from other Gospel episodes involving miraculous healings that it seems the person’s faith was a critical factor in the miracle. A sick person comes to the Lord, or a person comes to the Lord because of a dead loved one, and in several episodes Jesus performs the miracle but highlights “your faith has saved you”.
We should think carefully about this lesson. Jesus is God. God is all powerful. The lesson we learn in this Gospel passage tells us something about the mysterious relationship, almost like a recipe, of the power of God to give grace and the necessary part the recipient plays in whether the gift of grace is received or not, or to what degree it is received. We clearly do not understand the passage to mean that Jesus was unable to do a miracle or to do what he wanted. He is God and he has the capacity, the ability to do all the things he did in other places before arriving home at Nazareth. His inability to perform mighty deeds there is a reflection on the limitations placed by the lack of faith among those who gathered around him. It is not a reflection on any supposed lack of ability on Jesus’ part.
Our faith and receptivity to Jesus’ action in our lives is a significant factor in whether he can work among us. The disposition of the person the Lord encounters is a critical determining factor for the outcome of Jesus’ presence and action. Now, none of us should leave here today wracked with shame or imagining that we are to blame when some miracle we wanted didn’t take place. God always maintains sovereignty and the wisdom to give what is needed, no matter what we might wish He would do. However, we should leave here today aware of the important relationship we are part of when it comes to whether we let God’s action have greater influence and outcomes in our life. We need to train ourselves in trust of Jesus such that we seek to maintain a proper disposition and receptivity to God’s action. Our faith and openness to God sets the stage for Him to do whatever He wills to do with us and in us. I hope it doesn’t seem trite, but I think there is a helpful image to capture this mysterious relationship between God’s almighty power and our faith. It’s an image that perhaps helps us understand the variables that seem to be present from disciple to disciple. I don’t have props, so you’ll have to imagine a pitcher of water being poured constantly. The pitcher is God and the water is an image of how He constantly gives forth His grace in generosity. Now, imagine a cup, which represents the person. When the cup is turned upright, it is in the best position to catch all that is being poured out. But if you gradually start to turn the cup upside down it is less and less open to catch the water. And, when upside down, the failure of the cup to have water is not at all because the pitcher has failed to pour forth. That can serve to help us think about what variables we present to God who we trust generously gives His grace. Are we like a cup turned upright? In our lukewarmness and distraction with material things, do we start to turn ourselves away from Him as we perhaps let up on our prayer routine? When we grow cold and distant or when there is grave sin, we have turned ourselves away from that posture that permits us the greatest openness to God’s life, love, and power.
This Gospel invites us to recognize the important two-way relationship of the Lord’s grace and our receptivity that permits his action in us and among us. We cannot so easily and frequently go to Nazareth, but in the Church we can go regularly to Jesus’ hometown, so to speak. We come here to Holy Mass and we can accept the invitation to commit to time in the Lord’s “hometown” in our chapel where he waits to be adored. There we come to look upon the ordinary-appearing Host, just like those in Nazareth looked upon the ordinary-appearing man whom they knew as a carpenter and the son of Mary. At the same time, let’s not forget to let the Lord into our “hometown” too, figuratively, that is, into all the facts and the truth of our lives. We should open ourselves to him in honest prayer, placing before him, and exposing to him all that seems right and all that seems wrong in us. We do not keep from him the all-too-ordinary things of our lives, because we do not want to turn our cup upside down. Rather, we open ourselves to him to await whatever he wants to do in us.
Sollemnitas Corpus Christi
2 June 2024
I want to tie Corpus Christi with a simple lesson from the Garden of Eden. God made man in His image and likeness. Male and female He created them. There is in this a sign of origin and ownership. God does not treat man like an object, but there is an ownership in the sense that God is sovereign over His creation. Man’s identity and meaning are found in this relationship to God. Man is a physical being in that he is made from the dust of the earth and made with a body. Yet, man is also a spiritual being in that the breath of life from God is breathed into man’s bodily nature. There is within man a living principle that makes him different from mere dust. Something about man is alive and makes him different than mere material creation.
The story of Adam and Eve in the Garden, the story of the Fall, is a story that, among other lessons, tells us that by pride and disobedience man attempts to do something with his body and with his being that is contrary to God’s plan and God’s sovereignty. In eating from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, the Book of Genesis tells us that man was seeking to be like God. In other words, man was seeking to not be subject to a higher authority over himself. He was seeking to be that higher authority. Man was seeking to claim ownership over his own being, over his body, and over the meaning of his existence, in a way contrary to God and contrary to the truth and order of creation.
The distance that sin creates between God and mankind must be healed so that we can be saved. But, God does not abandon us in this sorry position of sin. Just as God had provided all good things in the Garden and established man to walk with Him in harmony, God comes close, gives us those gifts needed to re-establish harmony, and does not leave us orphans. His presence remains with us. This presence of God with us is an extension of the fact that God has taken on human flesh that belongs to him. He takes on this flesh in the incarnation to show us how to live in this body as stewards. He takes on flesh in order to lay it down in humility, and in contrast to the pride and disobedience that is at the root of man’s destruction.
Pride and disobedience are raging still in our time, such that the month we have now begun (so-called “Pride” month) will be marked by blasphemous displays of grasping and replacing God’s authority with that of man alone. It is the same pattern of arrogance that we see in the Garden when mankind grasped for those things that were forbidden in order to claim for himself a sovereignty and a control over creation and over himself. This month stands as the microcosm of how serious Christians feel under daily assault year-round in a society that has adopted secular progressivism and atheism as its religion. But just as in the Garden when God did not abandon Adam and Eve in their sin, we likewise do not give up hope and compassion for those who are deep in the many serious sins that come from pride and disobedience. We know that at least some of these are people in our own families, among our friends and loved ones. We ourselves are sinners. But the Gospel is Good News! We have something good to offer the world: we have the message of the Gospel by which we hear of our dignity in God’s image and likeness, and we have the hope of true human flourishing that can come about by conversion and the rejection of the anti-Christian notion that we are only slaves of our desires and feelings. We are not defined by our feelings and desires. No, we are defined by our belonging to God. When we learn to live in accord with God’s ways we find the antidote to the destruction caused by pride and disobedience.
In the complicated landscape of our time, marked by so many struggles and sins that can ensnare us and our friends, we observe today that God has not abandoned us. He has not left us orphans. He is truly present with us. In fact, he teaches us and reminds us that our whole being belongs to Him. He makes Himself present to us in sacramental form by those words of humility, sacrifice, and obedience when he says: This is my Body. In the course of the Eucharistic Procession for Corpus Christi we carry and walk with this presence of God, presenting to the world outside these walls the One who calls all men to strop grasping for a sinful authority that misuses the body and leaves us separated from God, but rather to take on the true Christian spirit that recognizes our defects and sins and calls out to God to strengthen us in the battle of conversion. We ourselves need this grace, and we are called to be witnesses of this grace so that others may come to insert themselves in the drama of salvation and leave behind the false gospel of secular progressivism and atheism.
As we worship God who lowers Himself to be present in the humility of the Sacred Host and the Chalice, may we be nourished by this same presence so that we have the courage, compassion, and conviction to call to others to stop grasping in pride for distortions of human nature. Mankind is in a particularly strong and raging battle these days over the meaning of the body due to a radical autonomy that seeks to replace God. Today we renew our faith that the “This is my Body” spoken by Jesus and spoken still through his priests, makes him truly present, Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity, in the Holy Eucharist. May our reverence for this Real Presence, our devotion to Holy Mass, our commitment to time in our Adoration Chapel, and our presentation of this gift to the world (through devotions like the Eucharistic Procession) bring about conversion to the goodness of God who has sovereignty over us and who does not abandon us in the darkness of pride and disobedience.
Dominica Pentecostes
19 May 2024
The Church concludes the Holy Season of Easter today with this great solemnity of Pentecost. Pentecost is the celebration of that day when, after having prayed for Christ’s promised gift, the Holy Spirit descended upon the early Church, with His gifts and power being poured out upon the Apostles and disciples. Pentecost being the birth of the Church, the Church being vivified by the Holy Spirit, is such a beautiful feast that it was a natural choice when I was choosing the date to observe with you my 25th anniversary of ordination to the priesthood.
The Church sort of “hangs out” at John’s Gospel chapter 20 at both the beginning and the end of the Easter Season. The earlier part of John 20 is the Gospel for Easter Sunday. One week later, on the Second Sunday of Easter, we hear from later verses of John 20. And today for the Mass of Pentecost Sunday, we hear almost the same Gospel as from the Second Sunday of Easter, John 20. So, what might John chapter 20 do for us in communicating what the power of the gifts of the Holy Spirit does for the disciple? From the Easter Sunday Gospel (John 20), we heard, “On the first day of the week, Mary of Magdala came to the tomb early in the morning, while it was still dark”. Upon noticing that the stone was rolled back from the tomb, and noting that the Lord’s body was missing, she ran. We might reasonably conclude there was at least some fear in her reaction and her pace to get away from the empty tomb in the darkness of early morning and back to the apostles with the news. In the later section of John 20, which we hear today, it is later on the day of the Resurrection, and we hear, “On the evening of that first day of the week, when the doors were locked, where the disciples were, for fear of the Jews.” Again, John chapter 20 notes darkness, for it is evening, and it clearly mentions this time the fear that captivated the apostles and disciples.
I think the prominence of John 20 as Easter starts and again today at Pentecost, the conclusion of the Easter Season, makes us consider the prominence of darkness and fear in the lives of disciples. Taking note of this darkness and fear on Pentecost, then, we have a cause for gratitude to God in that the gift of the Holy Spirit helps us confront how darkness and fear limit our vocation as disciples. Perhaps we can admit that much of our lives can be marked by darkness and fear of various kinds and to various degrees. Darkness is not only the literal dark of early morning or night, it can refer to a lack of illumination, a lack of inspiration that can overtake us in the life of faith. Fear is not only that which might be a cause of serious risk to us, it can refer to a lack of hope, to being locked in our own “upper rooms” whereby we fail in trust of the power of the Lord, we are lacking in trust in his peace, lacking trust that he does commission us, and that he brings about life in us through the Holy Spirit, giving us the gifts we need to do what he asks.
But the Holy Spirit, promised and given to the Church, and to individual disciples is not a spirit of darkness and fear. It is a spirit of glorification. John chapter 7 is a passage where the Lord mentioned living water flowing from within believers. John 7 clarifies that the Lord was speaking with that image of the Holy Spirit, and John 7 goes on to add, “There was, of course, no Spirit yet, because Jesus had not yet been glorified” (Jn. 7:39). The Holy Spirit then is a spirit of glory, because It follows after the glorification of the Lord and brings the presence of the glorified Lord. Time and time again in the life of discipleship we have to acknowledge that we are engaged in a battle as we seek to leave sin behind, to proclaim the joy of God’s Kingdom, and to advance by holiness toward that Kingdom in eternity. Time and time again, we must learn and train ourselves to act contrary to the tendency to stay in darkness and fear. For a disciple who seeks to live in accordance with the promised gifts of the Holy Spirit, received by us, we must reject the attitude of defeat that would keep us from fulfilling our mission as witnesses in this world. We must reject the messages that come from darkness and fear that tell us to keep our gifts hidden under a bushel basket, locked in our upper room. In contrast to darkness and fear, we are given light and peace by the risen Lord, gifts we are to share freely, for we are called to be the light of the world and the city set on a hill that cannot be hidden (cf. Mt. 5:14). The spirit of the world will not welcome this from us, these gifts of light and peace and faith, as we see almost every time a prominent and serious Christian opens his mouth in public, but, like it or not, it is the gift we are charged by the Lord to give to the world.
I can think of so many times in my 25 years of priestly ministry where darkness and fear had their way. At this point in life, I think I have enough evidence to suggest that disciples should probably expect to never be done learning the lesson of battling darkness and fear. When I was first ordained, I had no idea how many things over these 25 years the Lord and his Holy Spirit would make possible, things I could not imagine due to darkness and fear. When confronted with new challenges or new opportunities requiring much effort, I can think of many times when my first reaction was like the frightened apostles. The message I might hear is that I can’t do it or I don’t have enough of what it takes to accomplish some work of the Lord. I could never have known 25 years ago the many ways I would be pulled out of darkness or out of my own locked upper room, often kicking and screaming, to do what I did not think possible. It’s a lesson I must still learn and put into practice. The truth is, for us disciples, we can tend to focus on the work we think we are doing for the Lord, such that we lose sight that it is the Lord of the work who has primacy. The error we make is to first think of our own strength, our own ideas, our own abilities. But beyond our own strength, we have been given the Holy Spirit. And the Holy Spirit is not in the game of limiting what God desires!
The Holy Spirit is given to us to confront the darkness and fear in our age of history. I want to conclude by highlighting only three things the world needs from us disciples to confront the darkness and fear of our age. We are given after all the Spirit of glory. First, to counter the spirit of darkness that is corrupting marriage and family life, the world needs disciples like you to show a consistent sacrificial love, the stability of commitment even and especially when things are tough, and the blessing of human life, made in God’s image and likeness, which echoes the goodness of God’s choice to take on our flesh in the Incarnation. Second, to counter the spirit of darkness that is corrupting fatherhood and leadership, the world needs disciples in the priesthood who will teach the truth without cowardice and who will be sources of stability for the flock by standing resolute against the storms of secularity, and who will remind us of the primacy of God, by leading us in worship that places all of our focus on God and what He is owed. Thirdly, to counter the spirit of darkness that is seen by so many divisions and polarity in society, the world needs the Church to be an authentic community fostering charity and unity in community life that mirrors the life of the Blessed Trinity. By doing these things and doing them together and according to our own proper vocations we honor the order of the world God has made and we present to the world the health of the Mystical Body of Christ, which is the Church. An attractive healthiness that draws others into the community. We have been given a spirit of glory. May we seek to promote the health and the mission of the Church by letting the Holy Spirit lead us out of darkness and fear.
Homily for Pentecost Sunday by Fr. Stephen Hamilton. Celebration of 25 years of priesthood.
Reading I Acts 2:1-11
Responsorial Psalm 104:1, 24, 29-30, 31, 34
Reading II 1 Cor 12:3b-7, 12-13
Gospel Jn 20:19-23
Dominica in Pasqua VI
5 May 2024
My Kindergarten teacher, Sister Mary Samuel, taught my class the Rosary. When we small kids naturally started putting the rosary over our heads, Sister told us gently: “Now children, we don’t treat it like jewelry, or something just to wear. We treat it respectfully as something we use for prayer.” After Sister’s example and lesson, it was a man whose dedication to Mary and the Rosary most stands out to me and has impacted me greatly. That man was my maternal grandfather, Jack Ryan. At the end of his life, in and out of consciousness, he would become agitated when he could no longer keep a grip on his Rosary. My family discovered that if they taped the Rosary to his hand he would remain more calm. Not discounting the great example of so many faithful women, for me the Rosary has always been a masculine form of prayer and a manly thing to do, thanks to my grandpa.
The month of May is typically devoted to Mary, to motherhood, and to Marian devotions. As we are in May and have the May Crowing today, I want to promote the Rosary as a prayer for each of you to foster in your personal spiritual practice, to promote it as a prayer that should have a place in your home life (and which I especially encourage you men to lead), and I want to encourage you to join in praying the Rosary before Masses and to also get involved by helping to lead it.
The Holy Rosary gradually took form in the second millennium of Christianity. It has nourished countless saints and has been encouraged by the Church’s teaching authority. While we consider it a Marian prayer, it is really focused on Christ and should be understood as a summary of the Gospels. I can’t do justice to the Rosary’s development in a homily, but a few highlights stand out. The practice of keeping count of prayers, which also has a place in Eastern religions, can be seen in the very disciplined life of desert monasticism in the 2nd-4th centuries, where little rocks or sticks would be used to keep track of one’s completed prayers throughout the day. In the 6th century and beyond, as Western monasticism in the style of St. Benedict grew, monks would pray all 150 psalms from the Bible over the course of a week. But some monks had to be involved in the realities of manual labor to keep a monastery running, chores, building, farming, livestock, harvest, and repairs. Monks who couldn’t be in the church praying with the other monks would replace a psalm by praying an Our Father. The monks doing labor, and eventually lay faithful too, wanted to participate in the prayer of monks at the church, and so this practice of replacing the psalms with other prayers came to develop more and more. In the 12th century and beyond an incarnational spirituality was on the rise, with greater meditation on the wonder of God’s taking on human flesh. Devotions to Jesus (God incarnate) and Mary (who gave God His flesh) were increasing, as an expression of this incarnational focus. This is the same time that sees the development of one familiar example of incarnational spirituality: the invention of Nativity Scene by St. Francis of Assisi. And at this same time, St. Dominic enters the history. The traditional customary story is that Mary appeared to St. Dominic and gave him the Rosary, asking him to use it and to promote it. We can’t certify that story, but we do know that St. Dominic preached about the use of the Rosary, and it continued to develop and to take shape as we know it today. The Rosary is both vocal prayer (meaning, the repeated scripted prayers) and mental prayer (meaning, meditation on the mysteries). You aren’t really praying the Rosary if you aren’t contemplating the mysteries.
St. Dominic used the Rosary as a spiritual weapon against one of the most distorting and pernicious heresies of all time, called the Albigensian heresy. That heresy rejected the notion that God could have become human because it viewed humanity as evil, as a corrupted thing of this world, the domain of an evil god who controls the world and this life. At that time, the world was latching onto the heretical notion that material things and flesh are only evil, that we are only spiritual beings trapped in a body, and our real salvation is escaping this body, discarding it and being free of it. Meanwhile, the Church was holding onto the goodness of creation, made in God’s image and likeness – fallen and marked by sin, yes – but destined for resurrection in a glorified flesh and made for eternal union with God in Heaven. No wonder an incarnational spirituality was on the rise as a response to such a heresy on the rise.
Heresies that hold distorted notions of the material world and the dignity of human flesh are the final point I want to make in my promotion of the Rosary today. We sometimes uncritically think about history and we think that we live in such a developed time, and the ancient and medieval peoples were kind of quaint little figures with their bands of heretics running about and misleading peasant souls; so uninformed were they back then, not like us. That is a grave mistake for us to think. The Albigensian heresy, that the Rosary was such an effective weapon against, was itself a reworked version of an earlier heresy that took its own stab at denouncing the material world as ruled by an evil god and that claimed that matter and flesh are evil. That same root heresy hasn’t gone away, even if individual proponents of it (like the Albigensians) have been eradicated. Viewing human dignity, human flesh, and the material world as not worthy of God, as evil things that God would not associate with, as depraved and therefore only worth tossing away is a heresy that still exists. This should sound suspiciously familiar to our ears. Yes, the same heresy exists in our time, just taking on a different form, but promoting the same pernicious and distorted lie that leads people down a path of impoverished living, lack of authentic human fulfillment, and ultimately sin that runs the risk of eternal damnation.
In short, our time too suffers under movements and ideas that have a very low view of human dignity. Moderns might not call human flesh “evil” or claim that it is the domain of an evil god. That all sounds far too religious and antiquated. We’ve gotten rid of all that. Moderns are more sophisticated than all that. The truth is, moderns just do the same things under a different guise. In place of calling flesh “evil”, the modern version of the heresy views it as “meaningless”. It does not see human flesh as having its innate dignity created by God and thereby being a privileged expression of spiritual reality. But the authentic faith holds that the soul is not just something trapped in an evil body with the only solution being escape and leaving the body behind. Rather, the human soul properly dwells united to human flesh, whereby the body expresses the spiritual reality of the soul. For moderns who often uncritically adopt the same reworked heresy in the various ideologies of our time, human flesh does not have its own innate dignity and meaning. It is rather, meaningless and therefore it is subject to whatever an individual possessing it may wish to do with it and to it. Sure, we don’t have odd sounding words like Albigensians, but our version of the heresy goes by lingo that sounds so reasonable, words like “choice” (as in: My body, my choice). Our version of the heresy goes by words like “trans” and “non-binary”, meaning that there is no stable meaning to the body. It’s whatever the person wants it to be. Or our version of the heresy, focuses on only one aspect of flesh, like the meaning of sexual love. It makes that meaningless in and of itself, by promoting a self-fulfillment in whatever sexual expression the individual desires. Alleged sexual “freedom” in promiscuity, in forms of entertainment and media, and in an ever-expanding LGBTQ trajectory is this heresy’s “gospel”. “Love is love”, after all, right? The lie of this heresy is that there is no defined meaning or purpose for sexual love. It’s up to the individual and it’s all equal and of equal value for society. In other words, this heresy would say there is nothing uniquely meaningful about God’s design of the complementarity of the sexes, about heterosexual love, nor its contribution to the stability and good of society. That’s heresy. It needs an authentic response from us who are believers. In needs a response in our words, but also in our actions, the way we live in the flesh. We need a weapon to carry with us into the battle where we in our time, like St. Dominic in his, are supposed to be witnesses to the truth, to the goodness of God, and to His love that calls us – body and soul – into resurrected life. The Rosary is our weapon too. And we need to use it. Pray it daily. Teach it to your children. Do it as a family. If you have 20 minutes in the car then you have time for a Rosary. That could be daily since we all spend so much time in the car, right? But pray it in more serene settings too. Come early to pray it in public before Mass. Praying it in families or in groups in the church carries an indulgence with it. We celebrate in faith the Resurrection of Jesus in the flesh and the hope that gives us to have a restored body united to our soul in Heaven. May the intercession of Mary and our devotion to the Rosary help us to hold the true faith: namely, that God has chosen to grant us contact with his divinity precisely through His incarnate bodily reality, thus making the physicality of our world not evil or meaningless, but a sacramental reality that helps us touch the divine even here and now in our daily living.
Homily for the Sixth Sunday of Easter by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading 1 Acts 10:25-26, 34-35, 44-48
Responsorial Psalm Ps 98:1, 2-3, 3-4
Reading 2 1 Jn 4:7-10
Alleluia Jn 14:23
Gospel Jn 15:9-17
Homily for the Fourth Sunday of Easter by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading 1 Acts 4:8-12
Responsorial Psalm Ps 118:1, 8-9, 21-23, 26, 28, 29
Reading 2 1 Jn 3:1-2
Alleluia Jn 10:14
Gospel Jn 10:11-18
Dominica in Pasqua IV
21 April 2024
The Gospel passage for this Sunday is familiar. We hear the Lord declare that he is the Good Shepherd. It is a tender image. The Lord Jesus is not simply claiming to be a good shepherd in a superficial way, as if to use the image only to put a nice sentiment in the minds of disciples. He is also making a contrast between himself and those who are bad shepherds, what the text refers to as a “hired man” and other translations call a “hireling” and even a “mercenary”. There is an Old Testament precedent for this image of the good shepherd. It is the strong rebuke of the shepherds of Israel, meaning the religious leaders, who have God’s Word launched against them by the Prophet Ezekiel, in Ezekiel chapter 34.
Ezekiel delivered these words of God because he was told to prophesy against the shepherds of Israel and what they had done to the sheep: “Woe to the shepherds of Israel who have been pasturing themselves!... You have fed off their milk, worn their wool, and slaughtered the fatlings, but the sheep you have not pastured.” And further, Ezekiel says, “As I live, says the Lord God, because my sheep have been given over to pillage, and because my sheep have become food for every wild beast, for lack of a shepherd; because my shepherds did not look after my sheep, but pastured themselves…. I swear I am coming against these shepherds. I will claim my sheep from them and put a stop to their shepherding…. I will save my sheep… I myself will pasture my sheep” (Ez. 34:1-16). The Lord is more indirect in his words in the Gospel than was the prophet, but the tender image he uses of the good shepherd has behind it this very forceful language about the seriousness of shepherding God’s people rightly toward the sheepfold and the pasture of eternity. It has behind it a serious indictment for shepherds who take up the responsiblity of shepherding, but use it as an opportunity to pasture themselves, that is, to make shepherding about caring for themselves and what they can gain.
With that Old Testament prophecy as a backdrop, let’s consider again the Gospel passage. In this section of St. John’s Gospel, Jesus is in Jerusalem and the temple area. He is in the place of religious significance for Jewish faith, the place of encounter with God in the temple, the place where the religious authorities operate in a most important way. And in fact, I think we get a richer sense of the Good Shepherd imagery by noticing that just verses before today’s passage, backing up into the prior chapter, in John 9, we have an entire chapter where the Pharisees are exposed for opposing the miraculous healings worked by Jesus, where they appear to be like clowns running a kangaroo court as they investigate the healing of the man born blind. You should check it out and read John 9 today to see what immediately precedes the Lord’s declaration that he is the Good Shepherd. As the Pharisees refuse to accept that Jesus healed the man born blind and they even refuse to believe that the man born blind was indeed blind, they reject that Jesus is the one sent from God, despite the fact of his doing the works of God. At the conclusion of John 9, Jesus says, “ ‘I came into this world for judgment, so that those who do not see might see, and those who do see might become blind.’ Some of the Pharisees who were with him heard this and said to him, ‘Surely we are not also blind, are we?’ Jesus said to them, ‘If you were blind, you would have no sin; but now you are saying, ‘We see,’ so your sin remains’.” Did you catch what happened there and what was being revealed about the Pharisees, the religious leaders, the shepherds of Israel? The Pharisees themselves sure caught it! “You’re not saying we’re blind, are you?” While they might see with the eye, the Lord is calling them spiritually blind. Because they refuse to acknowledge their blindness they are caught in sin. They are shepherds who are being rebuked. And so, in this context and atmosphere, the Lord reveals that he is the Good Shepherd. It is he who fulfills the words from Ezekiel. He is God coming to claim His own sheep and to take them away from the bad shepherds who are only taking care of themselves. In their own blindness and sin, the Pharisees are leaving the sheep neglected, scattered, and even subject to the pillage of wolves, meaning the destruction of the evil one, Satan.
Next in this passage, the Lord says, “I know mine and mine know me.” These words here and other Gospel words about the one good shepherd, and the one entrance to the sheepfold, and the one gate by which the sheep go in and out, have a strong resonance with later words of the Lord: “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me” (Jn. 14:6). St. Peter, in the first reading, likewise speaking to the Jerusalem elders and leaders, the same ones indicted by Jesus in the Gospel, seems to be saying something similar: “There is no salvation through anyone else, nor is there any other name under heaven given to the human race by which we are to be saved” (Acts 4:12). The Good Shepherd says, “I know mine and mine know me.” Surely, we can understand that the Good Shepherd’s knowing us the sheep, his relationship with us, his knowledge about us is complete, and firm, and strong, and lasting. He is God and there is nothing lacking in his knowledge. “I know mine.” But what about the last part of that claim, “and mine know me”? For that claim to be true, that requires something of us the sheep. How do we remain firm in our knowing of Jesus, our Good Shepherd? I suggest that a cornerstone for our knowledge of the Good Shepherd and for our advancing toward the pasturing that leads to eternal life is whether we accept and truly embrace that Jesus is the only way to salvation. There is no other name, no other person, no other figure, no other power, no other claim, no other system of belief, no other system of worship, no other movement, no other thing that will save us! If we don’t accept that and live by that, then we are not knowing the Good Shepherd for who he is for us. And if we do not know him, then we are weakened in identifying his voice and in following him. We gradually seek pasture elsewhere and we listen to other voices that are not his. And that will not lead us to eternal life and salvation in the pastures of heaven. In an age like ours that treats everything as equal and equivalent, an age that emphasizes “my own personal truth”, an age that parrots “tolerance” and “coexisting”, an age that promotes what is really a secular progressive religion that promises the “salvation” of a man-made utopia here on earth, in this atmosphere we can fall prey to the wolves that weaken our confidence and faith in Jesus as the Good Shepherd and the only way to salvation. The only way to salvation is the Good News that God Himself desires us to be shepherded rightly into good pastures, and He Himself has come as the Good Shepherd to save us. The Lord has to have that kind of primacy and priority in our lives. He knows us. But for us to know him, we need to place all our confidence and faith in him. We need to identify and remove from ourselves other persons, ideas, or things that we might follow ahead of the Lord. We should examine our conscience for those things we make explicitly more important than the Good Shepherd and his guidance. But we also need to search ourselves and to be honest about naming those things that, perhaps unintentionally or accidentally, we give more allegiance to than we do to the Lord. We have the opportunity to repent and to know our shepherd more deeply by listening to his voice and entrusting ourselves to the One who knows us intimately. Our Good Shepherd makes the astounding claim of calling us into a relationship with him that mirrors the relationship of the very Blessed Trinity. What he says should fill us with joy: “I know mine and mine know me, just as the Father knows me and I know the Father”.
Dominica in Pasqua II
Divine Mercy Sunday
7 April 2024
In my homily for the Easter Vigil and Easter Sunday I suggested that our “Alleluia” returns in this season and is joyful precisely because, if we have used Lent well, when the “alleluia” is suppressed, then we have confronted the reality of our own sins and the sinfulness in mankind’s history. This admission of our guilt can serve to make us more aware of what God has done for us in saving us. And thus, it makes us more grateful and joyful in signing out “Alleluia” in this season of the resurrection. Praise the Lord for his salvation in Jesus Christ!
At the root of mankind’s state and status is a pride that grasps for more and grasps to touch and to possess the place that properly belongs to God. This is the lesson of Adam and Eve and their disobedience in grasping for the fruit of the tree that the serpent told them would make them like God (Gen. 3:5). They desired the place and the knowledge and the power of the Godhead, and so they took the fruit of that tree and brought condemnation upon themselves and upon all of us who inherit that fallen nature, which is still inclined to sinfulness and unholy desires.
By Original Sin and our own personal sins we deserve condemnation. We actually acknowledge that at the start of each Holy Mass when we call to mind our sins and ask God’s mercy, before we ascend the mountain, so to speak, of worship at Holy Mass. When we call to mind our sins we are not merely calling to mind “struggles” or “mistakes” or “weaknesses” or some such vague language. No, we are calling to mind our sinful choices and our guilt. We are calling to mind that we deserve condemnation. We call to mind everything that reflects sin in our lives. Each one of us says, “I have greatly sinned, in my thoughts and in my words, in what I have done (the evil I have done) and in what I have failed to do (the good I have failed to do), through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault”.
Yes, as we recall God’s mercy we have many reasons to be thankful and to be filled with joy as we say alleluia, because we are aware of those sins from which we have been saved. The apostles and disciples, the first Christians, faced condemnation for their own sins and they faced a world locked in death, when they experienced the Good News of the empty tomb and the resurrection of Jesus. They knew the Lord’s resurrection to be a great victory of joy and hope. And they knew they were called to live that victory. Thus, the second reading had St. John proclaiming that belief when it said, “the victory that conquers the world is our faith”. The disciples went out into the midst of a world whose mentality and vision was still very much locked in human power and the hopelessness of condemnation. As the first reading showed, the disciples went out into that world and they lived differently. They had different teachings. They had different practices. They were of one heart and mind, and with power they bore witness to the resurrection.
Do you acknowledge the drama of salvation and God’s generous mercy in your life? Are you aware of sin in your life such that you can live the joy of Christ’s victory for you? Are you ready to be like the first disciples and to go into the midst of the world and live differently? Do you know it to be your mission, too, to bear witness to the resurrection of Jesus and to proclaim that the victory that conquers the world is our faith? We are supposed to render that kind of evangelical service to the world. For though we have been redeemed by the death and resurrection of Jesus, the world is still ensnared by that mentality and vision of grasping and possessing the place, and the knowledge, and the power that belongs properly to God. In so doing, those who adopt a worldly way of thinking and acting dismiss the free gift of salvation from God, so busy are they grasping things for themselves and by their own power.
Yes, the world is ensnared by the mentality and vision of its own false god. Do you ever consider why so many of the gravest evils of human history, so many of the gravest sins, involve human flesh, both how it is made and its very existence? It’s because sins against human life, sins against its dignity, and sins against how human flesh is made strikes at the very image of God, who has made human beings male and female and has made us in His image and likeness. Murder, adultery, pornography, sexual immorality of all kinds, abortion, euthanasia, same-sex marriage, transgender ideology… all these ensnare our world and our contemporaries and they create an atmosphere that threatens to ensnare us. These sins are like a retelling of the Garden of Eden with the serpent enticing mankind against God, against His very image and likeness. These sins keep the world and the worldly from acknowledging the victory of our faith. These things keep souls locked in condemnation and need our witness and our joyful “alleluia”. We are to be so grateful ourselves for the gift of God’s mercy that we are ready to live differently in the midst of the world, and to be like those first Christians who proclaimed in word and action the victory of the resurrection of Jesus Christ!
Easter Vigil & Sunday
30 & 31 March 2024
At Easter we return to our familiar singing of “alleluia”. That word originates from the Hebrew and means “Praise the Lord” or “God be praised.” One of the distinctive liturgical features of Lent is that the alleluia has been suppressed these past many weeks. We are accustomed to the alleluia before the Gospel, but we use a different Gospel acclamation throughout Lent. In some religious communities and in some parishes there is the practice as Lent gets started of marking that suppression of the alleluia by taking a banner that reads “Alleluia” and burying it in the ground. So, when today “Alleluia” rings out again in our churches and from Christian mouths, there is supposed to be great joy in such a happy proclamation. So, why would we be so joyful in that acclamation? Why would that acclamation now return and what has prepared us to have joy as we again proclaim “alleluia”?
In part, it is because we have first observed Lent where we have been deprived of that familiar word of praise of the Lord. But, of course, it is deeper because our observation of Lent is about more than just the absence of “alleluia”. Rather, it is about walking the journey and the opportunity of that holy season to take note of what reduces our joy, what stifles or limits our joy. What stifles our joy is sin, and/or being a glutton about good things in our life such that we give those things more focus than we dedicate to the spiritual life. They become actual idols. In Lent, we pass through the desert of recognizing sin and seeking to dismiss it from our lives in order that we live in greater freedom as God’s sons and daughters. And as we grow in fidelity to that work of uprooting sin and growing in holiness by the fostering of virtue, well, then, we experience greater joy in Christ.
Yes, our Christian Lenten practice of the absence of that word alleluia is geared to making us now more fond of proclaiming “Praise the Lord”! When something is missing, when I don’t get to experience it or enjoy it over an absence, I am enabled to be more aware of the blessing of that thing when I can experience it again. Of course, we mean only good things here. For, we ought not enjoy bad things or sins, and we ought not return to them once we get rid of them. That’s why a true Lenten sacrifice, something you give up as part of your Lent, is about giving up a good, a legitimate thing that you are able to enjoy, but which you voluntarily relinquish. You do this to make more time for God, to fill the absence (of that thing you have given up) with greater attention to prayer, discipline, and work on the virtues.
What has the absence of “alleluia” taught us such that we return to its use today? By our working to uproot sin, by our willing sacrifice of good things in our life, by our struggles, by our weakness in our resolve, by having to recognize how inconsistent I can be at spiritual work and doing something for God, by all this we enter into a time of desert wandering. We mark salvation history in our own living. Like God’s people in Egypt we have to confront by the absence of our alleluia that we are very much trapped in sinful patterns and that our “egypts” – our sins – have quite a hold on us. We are attached to slavery in Egypt and we need a savior.
If we have first done this self-reflective work in Lent. If we have recognized the ways in which we need the Lord to save us, and if we take stock of just how desperate we are in our sinfulness, then we have noticed in the dryness of the missing “alleluia” that we have been given much by the Lord Jesus who has worked such marvels for us. We likely do not take anywhere near enough stock that by our sins we deserve condemnation. We are helpless and hopeless. We would have no cause to dare think, much less say, Alleluia, were it not for the Lord! That, friends, is what Christians actually believe about the seriousness of sin and the seriousness of the offer of salvation in God’s generous love. In the dryness of Lent’s missing alleluia we have the opportunity to confront our Egypt and to learn to let it go. We have the opportunity to pass through the desert, to follow – and yes, to wander (hopefully not for 40 years!) – where the Lord leads trusting that the slowness of our hoped-for growth in holiness is not due to anything lacking from Jesus, but from our own resolve. And so, time and time again, we must be trained in the absence of our acclaiming “Praise the Lord” of just why we have such cause to praise him! Missing the alleluia these many weeks, if we become convinced of our need for salvation, our need for Jesus, then our “Alleluia” returns now with deep joy!
In the absence of praise these long weeks, hopefully we return to that familiar acclamation with renewed gratitude for how salvation history has worked in us, how it is working, and how – by God’s continued generous love – it will continue to work into our future. We praise the Lord now for God the Son has come to save us. We praise the Lord now for God’s Kingdom has been inaugurated and we are called to inherit it. We praise the Lord now because by baptism and faith and continued striving, salvation history is not only a story of the past but is very much here and now working in you and in me. Our sins take us to the grave and eternal death. But the Lord Jesus has gone there on our behalf. The voracious appetite of death once greedily took his flesh. But in so doing death got a surprise in that it swallowed up a power greater than itself: God almighty. Jesus has tangled with death and left it ruined. And by rising from the dead the Lord has opened the path for all who believe and who conform their lives to him. Taking note of all of this divine work as a deeply personal history for me and for you, and not just a story from the past, we can say once again, “alleluia!” Praise the Lord!
Homily for Second Sunday of Easter, Sunday of Divine Mercy by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading 1Acts 4:32-35
Responsorial Psalm Ps 118:2-4, 13-15, 22-24
Reading 2 1 Jn 5:1-6
AlleluiaJn 20:29
Gospel Jn 20:19-31
Homily for Holy Saturday At the Easter Vigil in the Holy Night of Easter by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading I Gn 1:1—2:2
Responsorial Psalm Ps 104:1-2, 5-6, 10, 12, 13-14, 24, 35
Reading II Gn 22:1-18
Responsorial Psalm Ps 16:5, 8, 9-10, 11
Reading III Ex 14:15—15:1
Responsorial Psalm Ex 15:1-2, 3-4, 5-6, 17-18
Reading IV Is 54:5-14
Responsorial PsalmPs 30:2, 4, 5-6, 11-12, 13
Reading VIs 55:1-11
Responsorial Psalm Is 12:2-3, 4, 5-6
Reading VI Bar 3:9-15, 32--4:4
Responsorial Psalm Ps 19:8, 9, 10, 11
Reading VII Ez 36:16-17a, 18-28
Responsorial Psalm Ps 42:3, 5; 43:3, 4
Epistle Rom 6:3-11
Responsorial Psalm Ps 118:1-2, 16-17, 22-23
Gospel Mark 16:1-7
Holy Thursday 2024
28 March 2024
Ex. 12:1-8, 11-14; 1 Cor. 11:23-26; Jn. 13:1-15
The season of Lent has now ended and the Sacred Pascal Triduum has begun with the start of this Mass. The Gospel selection for this Holy Mass is taken from St. John’s unique account of the Last Supper, at which the Lord Jesus gives an extended Farewell Discourse. Throughout that discourse it is clear that the apostles did not understand the full import of the Lord’s words, nor what he was doing. We heard evidence of this in the passage where Jesus responds to Peter’s question by indicating “What I am doing you do not know now, but afterwards you will understand” (Jn. 13:7). Later on in this passage we hear other words from Jesus, “Where I am going you cannot follow me now; but you shall follow afterward” (Jn. 13:36). Still later in St. John’s final discourse, Thomas asks, “Lord, we do not know where you are going; how can we know the way?” (Jn. 14:5). A final example of the lack of understanding on that first Holy Thursday evening: Philip says to Jesus, “Lord, show us the Father, and we shall be satisfied” (Jn. 14:8). The Lord responds, “Have I been with you so long, and yet you do not know me, Philip?” (Jn. 14:9). Yes, throughout the Farewell Discourse is a contrast between the misunderstanding of the disciples in that present moment and a future time when they will understand what Jesus is saying and doing.
The twofold sacramental significance of the Last Supper is that the Lord was establishing the apostles as his first priests and, at the same time, entrusting to them the duty to guard the Holy Eucharist, and giving them the sacred power to make that gift present in his Church for future generations. The Lord was giving this charge to apostles whom he knew to be misunderstanding the significance of what he was doing for them, in them, and through them for the whole Church and the salvation of the world. Knowledge of their misunderstanding apparently did not phase the Lord, for it did not stop him from doing what we celebrate this evening. The future understanding would come as a gift of the promised Holy Spirit, sent from God and taking up dwelling in His Church. For me, looking back over 25 years of ordained priesthood, I can sort of chuckle about these misunderstandings in the Gospel. I chuckle because I am really chuckling about my own misunderstandings about what the Lord was doing the day I was ordained and given a share in that apostolic charge to guard the Holy Eucharist and to make it for the Church. To be clear, that comment is not a claim that I have reached a moment of utmost clarity about the Lord’s workings. No. Rather, it is simply a comparative observation that the priest today can notice how much was misunderstood by the priest 25 years ago. And I assume I will be able to say that in 25 more years should God grant me those years. Indeed, the Gospel plays out again… In time and with growth we come to understand more of what the Lord does for us and in us. The Holy Spirit helps us marvel at those gifts and helps us have a deeper understanding of these mysteries.
But to have our misunderstandings clarified and to appreciate what the Lord does for us we have to get to know him and we have to let him do his work in us. That means we must use our freedom to cooperate with him, to make ourselves available to him, and to beg the Holy Spirit to enlighten our minds. Peter hesitated about letting the Lord wash his feet, and even said, “You will never wash my feet.” The Lord’s response taught Peter a distinction between bathing and washing (as we heard in the use of language in the passage). We might consider that an image that serves as a distinction between baptism and confession. For when Peter thought he might need more of himself bathed, Jesus said, “Whoever has bathed has no need except to have his feet washed, for he is clean all over.” Bathing makes one clean. An image of the bathing of baptism. Yet, even the one who is clean needs his feet washed from the daily dust of life’s journey. An image of the washing of confession.
Let’s stick with that initial protest of Peter: “You will never wash my feet.” Jesus answered, “Unless I wash you, you will have no inheritance with me.” In this spiritual interpretation of that exchange, we can understand that as the need to be washed in confession and restored there to our baptismal dignity. Peter was apparently bathed. He had no need to have more of himself bathed. According to the Lord, he needed only his feet washed. It is a model for us in our need to be healed, restored to baptismal dignity, and washed of the daily “dust”, the daily struggles, the daily sins.
We the baptized have been bathed in the waters that make us clean all over. Yet, like the apostles, we have misunderstandings. We can suffer from hardened hearts. We can refuse the Lord. Our sins risk our inheritance with him. As we pray this evening that the grace of the priesthood will be given to sons in your families, to sons of this parish, we know that our own misunderstandings cannot be relieved if we are not healed in confession. We will be open to the Holy Spirit’s illumination to lift our misunderstandings and to heal our sins if we build our Eucharistic devotion, our devotion to this great gift given on this holy night. Our resistance to prayer where that comes up in the busyness of our lives, resistance to uprooting sin, our resistance to coming to adoration in our chapel are ways we say to the Lord, “You will never wash my feet.” We learn from the Gospel this evening, through the slowness and misunderstandings of those first priests, we learn of the ongoing need after being bathed in baptism, to encounter the Lord time and time again. In the adoration of Holy Mass and worthy reception of Holy Communion, and in responding to the opportunity of adoration in our chapel, we go there to reveal our vulnerabilities and misunderstandings to the Lord. He enlightens us and heals us. He sends forth the Holy Spirit to transform us in any age and stage of our life. By giving us his very self in the Holy Eucharist, through the hands of priests, the Lord holds out before us that inheritance that is the great hope of those who follow where he is going.
Homily for Holy Thursday -Evening Mass of the Lord’s Supper by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading I Ex 12:1-8, 11-14
Responsorial Psalm Ps 116:12-13, 15-16bc, 17-18.
Reading II 1 Cor 11:23-26
Verse Before the Gospel Jn 13:34
Gospel Jn 13:1-15
Dominica III in Quadragesima B
3 March 2024
We learn from our Lord in the Gospel about the dignity and value of the temple, the house of God. It is sacred and holy, which refers to “being set apart”. That which is not set apart, that which is common, that which is mixed with ordinary things is profane. The temple, the house of God, is not to be profaned by making it just another place that is not set apart for God. We learn that the profane is not to intrude into the sacred.
As we learn that the temple, the house of God’s dwelling, is set apart, we also learn something quite important, that the temple is not merely a place of stone. It is, rather, the Body of Jesus. And further, we learn from St. Paul elsewhere in the Scriptures that by faith and the consecration of baptism, Christians are removed from the merely profane and are set apart, made holy, made temples of the Holy Spirit (cf. 1 Cor. 3:16-17; 12:27). With a biblical outlook we are to have zeal for the Church, zeal for the temple of the Lord’s Body, and to have zeal for the temple that our bodies have become. It doesn’t take any effort to let ourselves exist in the profane. No, that happens daily and easily. It takes effort to have zeal to recognize the holiness of the temple we have become and to live accordingly. Furthermore, it takes effort to transform the way we live in the profane so that something of the holy, something of God, is brought into our daily activities outside of these sacred walls. After all, when we gather here and are nourished by God’s Word, and the grace of the Holy Eucharist, and fortified with common prayer, we are then sent out at the end of each Mass, sent out to be on mission in the world to make more disciples.
The first reading gave us the Scriptural listing of the Ten Commandments. The Ten Commandments establish relationship with God. They establish what it means to be set apart as belonging to God. They are the markers of leaving aside the profane and being holy. We should consider the setting of the first reading: It is the Exodus. God’s people have been set free from slavery. They are on their way to freedom and the Promised Land. We are fairly familiar with the biblical story of God desiring to set His people free from Egypt. But sometimes we don’t consider the finer point of what they were being set free for… When Moses told Pharaoh of God’s instruction to let His people go, Moses informed Pharaoh that they must be set free to go out to meet God in the desert to serve Him, which is biblical language for “to worship Him” (cf. Ex. 7:16; 8:1; 9:13), that was why, not only the Hebrew people, but all their flocks too, had to make the journey, so that they would have animals available for sacrifice in worship of God. The story of the Exodus and being set free, is a story of being set free for that proper relationship with God that is marked by worship. In the account of the Ten Commandments, the people are gathered at Mt. Sinai. There they receive the Ten Commandments. It’s worth reflection that in giving the Ten Commandments, God is doing something almost like giving building materials for building a temple, a place of worship. Except, foreshadowing the lesson of the temple-in-the-flesh from today’s Gospel, God is not giving literal brick and mortar. Rather, he is giving those structures that will set the people apart from the profane to be temples. He is giving those structures that are “moral” brick and mortar, that establish proper relationship with Him and that make His people living temples.
Contrary to the structure created by the Commandments, there is an attitude in our time that proposes that freedom is radical autonomy, that freedom means there are no limitations on our desires and choices, no obligations to which we must be obedient. This wrong idea can infect our attitude toward the Commandments and moral teaching, if we aren’t careful. It’s a popular idea one encounters everywhere. I was at a hearing recently at the Oklahoma State Department of Education and one citizen stood up to speak in public comments and said quite plainly that there is no such thing as objective good or evil, that there is no such thing as objective truth, or beauty, or goodness. Such things are only individual opinions or personal tastes, the person said. This false idea in our time is an extreme notion that rejects boundaries and limitations if they are not things we ourselves choose. This attitude is present in the ideology of choice and the pro-abortion agenda that rationalizes the killing of unborn children. This attitude is present in the lose sexual moralities (whether hetero or homo) proposing that the only consideration in sexual ethics is what makes the self feel good. Despite the harm of sexual acting out before marriage, and sexual perversions, this wrong attitude says it is only a person’s intention that is the measure of morality. That is, that all desires and actions are equal so long as the person doesn’t mean harm and, after all, the individual desires are how “love” is defined anymore. It’s why we end up with senseless slogans like “love is love”. To the modern mind infected by secularity, there are no boundaries. And that’s just not reality. And so, we end up with the rejection of observable physical reality, like the body and the binary reality of male and female. Though less salacious, this attitude is frankly also present in the way the duty of Sunday worship can be dismissed and treated as if it is only a minor sin to skip the worship of God at Holy Mass. The rejection of the obligation of proper worship is a rejection of the boundaries that God has placed on time, on our week, and it is a choice to remain profane and enslaved, by being apart from God, not fully alive as temples, as living stones.
The Lord demonstrated zeal for the temple. He was clearly angry at what he saw going on in the temple, after all he took time to make a whip in order to drive out the moneychangers. (That makes the Lord’s angry reaction a pre-meditated act, not an abrupt outburst.) Some scholars suggest that he was mad that money changers were cheating people with bad exchange rates. Others suggest that the Lord was mad that there were even moneychangers at all. But the fact is that we don’t know that, the biblical text doesn’t say. What we do know is what the text plainly says when Jesus turns over the tables. He says “stop making my Father’s house a marketplace”. Stop making it a place of trade. What we know is that the Lord was angry that this activity was taking up space in the place that had been set aside to be holy. It was profaning and taking up space that should have been kept apart so that people would have room to come inside the temple, to pray, and to worship. The Lord was angry that something set apart to be sacred was being profaned. And, we can’t forget the deeper and more important lesson for our life as consecrated, anointed disciples: the body has been made a temple and we can’t lack in our zeal to keep it holy and to avoid profaning it by being complacent about sin.
The Ten Commandments are like moral brick and mortar for our temples, the temples of our bodies. The Ten Commandments are the boundaries that God gives so that we have proper relationship with Him and truly belong to Him. The Ten Commandments are the foundation by which we, the baptized, truly become living stones in the temple of Jesus’ Body, of which he was speaking in the Gospel. In this holy season we have a privileged opportunity to recognize just how run down by daily living we can become such that we lack zeal for the Father’s house. We have the opportunity in Lent to correct course, to turn over the tables of complacency and to chase out the moneychangers of our busyness and work, and all the things that get more attention from us than we give to the good of our souls. By the cleansing of confession, or by preparation for baptism for those in RCIA, we are given grace to become more truly what we were made to be: namely, living stones in the temple of God, members of the Body of Christ, and temples of the Holy Spirit.
Homily for the Third Sunday of Lent by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading I Ex 20:1-17
Responsorial Psalm 19:8, 9, 10, 11
Reading II 1 Cor 1:22-25
Verse Before the Gospel Jn 3:16
Gospel Jn 2:13-25
Homily for the First Sunday of Lent by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading 1 Gn 9:8-15
Responsorial Psalm Ps 25:4-5, 6-7, 8-9.
Reading 2 1 Pt 3:18-22
Verse Before the Gospel Mt 4:4b
Gospel Mk 1:12-15
Dominica I in Quadragesima B
18 February 2024
ACA Commitment Weekend
The journey of Jesus into the desert always fills our hearts and minds with a vivid image to begin the Lenten season. Like our Lord, we journey with resolve to be strengthened, knowing we too will be tempted. No doubt, you have chosen something from which to fast during this season, some sacrifice, and you hope that your efforts will not only prepare you for a greater celebration of Easter, but that they will also make you a better husband or wife, a better father or mother, brother, sister, and friend. In short, you hope to be more united to Christ: to renew that Christian identity bestowed upon you at Baptism, and to be a better disciple. We must constantly repent, renew, and be reformed.
Or, in the case of the catechumens in RCIA preparing for Baptism at the Easter Vigil, you prepare yourself to be baptized and confirmed: at once united to Christ and strengthened to be his witnesses in the world. Today, we celebrate and pray for all Catechumens and Candidates in RCIA preparing to receive these sacraments this Easter as they gather at the Blessed Stanley Rother Shrine this afternoon to celebrate the Rite of Election that is, to be chosen for the Easter Sacraments by Archbishop Coakley.
Yes, we begin this season with all our fervor in participating in “the yearly observances of holy Lent,” as we prayed in the Collect at the start of Holy Mass, but a question must arise in our hearts. That question is, “Am I being ‘driven by the Spirit?”
It’s a detail that is sometimes overlooked in the Gospel, but this year as we read the brief account given by St. Mark, there’s no opportunity for dramatic demonic dialogues to overshadow the surprising fact that Jesus does not simply choose to go to the desert. Rather, we are told, he is driven into the desert by the Holy Spirit! The Gospel said, “The Spirit drove Jesus out into the desert, and he remained in the desert for forty days.” (Mk 1:12)
At the beginning of Lent, am I being “driven by the Spirit”, like Jesus was driven into the desert? Am I taking on Lenten observances inspired by the Holy Spirit? Was the Holy Spirit part of how I came up with my serious Lenten observances and sacrifices? In other words, did I even pray, “Lord, what do you want from me this Lent”? Am I desiring what Jesus desired—to follow God’s will for my life, led by the Spirit—while I face the “wild beasts” and “temptations” that fill the desert of my life?
If we want to be driven by the Spirit, we must first desire to live in the Spirit. Life in the Spirit, referenced by St. Peter in the second reading, is life in the Risen Lord, the fulfillment of the sign of God’s eternal covenant with us, prefigured by the sign of the bow in the clouds which God gives to Noah. The covenant with Noah is fulfilled in Jesus. His flesh is put to death by being “drowned” we might say, immersed in the “flood” of bitter suffering and crucifixion for our salvation. But, the wood of that Cross serves as we might also say, as the ark, the instrument through which his passage lands on “the shores” of the Resurrection. Never again, we heard in that first reading, will the Lord God permit a flood to destroy all mortal beings. And so, passing safely through the threatening “waters” of the temptations of this life is now accomplished for believers in baptism. As we heard in the second reading, “This prefigured baptism, which saves you now.” To live in the Spirit, then, means to keep this covenant, and to follow God’s ways.
The covenant cannot be kept alone, however. We must live in the Spirit as the Body of Christ, the Church! The Church connects us to Christ because the Church is the Body of Christ, by which we are joined to Christ our Head, we the members. The Church gives us the support we need to keep the covenant, and allows his Spirit to move in and through us. But the Church, the Body of Christ, cannot support those seeking to live in the Spirit if we don’t support the Church, if we aren’t living members of the same. We all must do our part to build up the Body of Christ, the Church, ministering to her as the angels ministered to Christ.
As we journey through this Lenten season, may the wilderness within us become a sacred space for transformation. Let the love of God guide us, the teachings of the Lord direct us, and the baptismal waters renew us.
Homily for the First Sunday of Lent by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading 1 Gn 9:8-15
Responsorial Psalm Ps 25:4-5, 6-7, 8-9.
Reading 2 1 Pt 3:18-22
Verse Before the Gospel Mt 4:4b
Gospel Mk 1:12-15
Homily for Ash Wednesday by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading 1 Jl 2:12-18
Responsorial Psalm Ps 51:3-4, 5-6ab, 12-13, 14 and 17
Reading 2 2 Cor 5:20—6:2
Verse Before the Gospel See Ps 95:8
Gospel Mt 6:1-6, 16-18
Ash Wednesday
14 February 2024
This holy season of renewal in godly life begins in distinctive fashion with the imposition of ashes. In a few moments, as ashes are imposed, you will hear the phrase: “Remember that you are dust, and unto dust you shall return.” I really love how Lent begins with that phrase because I think it is so rich, so packed, with meanings that speak to us of aspects of our faith and salvation history.
First, it speaks to us of a reminder of our creation. That takes us to the Book of Genesis. Man was formed from the dust of the earth and God generously blew life into his lungs. That phrase is a reminder of mortality, and therefore the need for repentance, since we also know that the phrase comes from God’s words to Adam after the Fall. God spoke to Adam of the consequences of sin and that he would have to labor by the sweat of his brow to provide from the land for his needs. God said to Adam that one day he would return to dust and uses this very same phrase: “You are dust and to dust you shall return.” This serves as a powerful reminder that there is a God and we are not Him. We bear the mortality that is a consequence of Original Sin and our personal sins. We will face judgment and so the reminder of being dust is also a call to repentance.
But there is still even more meaning packed into that inaugural phrase of Lent. It is not only a reminder of past creation or of the darkness of sin and mortality. We are a people of hope. We have hope in the Blood of Jesus in the New Covenant. And so, this reminder of creation, automatically carries with it a reminder of re-creation. God’s plan to save us from sin means that the Son has come in our very flesh to restore us, to redeem us, to usher in a new creation. The phrase calls to mind at one and the same moment, both creation and re-creation.
And thus, that packed phrase, is a call to us to go deeper in our life with the Lord. We are to repent of what keeps us bound to sin and the mortality of eternal death. We are to live in the new creation by growing in grace and holiness. That grace of being recreated by the Lord is something that must be seen and visible in us. That does not mean that we live grace in order to be seen. No. Rather, God’s Word tells us that grace must be made visible. In St. Paul’s Letter to Titus he writes that the grace of God “has appeared”, that is, been made visible, in Christ (cf. Ti. 3:4). If we are living in the new creation then likewise redeemed life must be seen in us too. It must be enfleshed in us. Holiness must be incarnate in us, following the model of the one who made us new. And so, Lent is a time for us to put on more fully, like clothing and vesture, the grace of redeemed life. We are to put on the life of Christ, the New Adam, who has refashioned us for a new creation. St. Paul writes in the Letter to the Ephesians, “put on the new man, created after the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness” (Eph. 4:24).
When we face all the meanings of that Lenten phrase, we know that we have divided hearts. We fall for sin and we remain attracted to it, even though the Lord has opened for us the way to salvation. The call of Lent is to shake off the slumber that speaks to us and keeps us living in sin, apart from God. We are to uproot those things that are sinful. And we need to be serious about the disciplines that will help us go deeper in our life with the Lord. I think the words of the first reading are so appropriate for this call to avoid being superficial but to seek deeper redeemed, recreated life. The Prophet Joel wrote the words of the Lord: “[R]eturn to me with your whole heart,… Rend your hearts, not your garments.”
Our campaign of Lent has begun. Our spiritual weapons, both the ones highlighted in Scripture and our additional personal penances and practices, help reform our lives so that we live less in the old ways of sin according to our fallen nature and live more as the new creature in Christ according to the life of grace.
Homily for the Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading I Lv 13:1-2, 44-46
Responsorial Psalm Ps 32:1-2, 5, 11
Reading II 1 Cor 10:31—11:1
Alleluia Lk 7:16
Gospel Mk 1:40-45
Homily for the Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading 1 Dt 18:15-20
Responsorial Psalm Ps 95:1-2, 6-7, 7-9
Reading 2 1 Cor 7:32-35
Alleluia Mt 4:16
Gospel Mk 1:21-28
Dominica III per Annum B
21 January 2024
In the selection from St. John’s Gospel last Sunday we heard about two of John the Baptist’s disciples, Andrew and an unnamed disciple, and later Simon Peter, who encounter Jesus and begin following him. You might wonder whether today’s Gospel selection is the same scene, just St. Marks’ version and, if so, you might wonder why would we hear again about the calling of some of those same disciples? Is it the same calling or not? And how might we understand the immediate and sudden way in which the selection today tells us those disciples dropped everything to follow the Lord?
Last week’s account and this Sunday’s account are actually two different chronological events. We know this because last week John the Baptist himself was in the passage, pointing his own disciples to the Lord. “Behold, the Lamb of God”, he said to his two disciples. Today we hear of a different moment from St. Mark, for he places it in a different chronological moment. He writes that the calling we hear about today took place “after John had been arrested.”
We know that John the Baptist himself was a rather serious and dedicated man of God, living in the desert, preaching, leading a disciplined and penitential life, and calling God’s people to repent. If these same disciples we hear about today were first John’s own disciples, it is reasonable to conclude that they too were rather dedicated, well-formed, and righteous men of God. While the Scriptures do not give us all the details, we might conclude that after John the Baptist’s ministry ended due to his arrest and eventual death, perhaps those disciples returned to their former homes and way of life and work. This puts them in Galilee, where they are fishermen in the episode we hear today, and where Jesus now comes to call them himself. So, if you get the idea from today’s passage that Jesus simply shows up unknown and says “follow me”, and they drop everything to do so… you need not think that. It is clear these disciples had encountered the Lord before, they had spoken to him, and they had stayed with him some (as John’s selection last week told us).
Jesus’ message that the time of fulfillment and the kingdom of God is at hand resonates with these serious disciples of John the Baptist. His claim to make them “fishers of men” resonates too. All of this helps us understand their readiness to immediately follow the Lord. The term “fishers of men” has a ring to it of a prophecy from Jeremiah 16. In that text, the prophet speaks of a time when people will no longer speak of how God brought his people out of Egypt in the exodus, but rather how he brought them back from exile, sort of a new exodus, to their promised land. Jeremiah says that God will send many fishers to gather his people and to bring them back. This prophecy can serve to signal that some new activity of God, some new movement of His people, would be celebrated. Something like a new exodus. It can serve to signal some type of new exodus, a new gathering of God’s people. When you consider that John the Baptist himself was preparing the way for something new, and pointing to Jesus, and that John was conducting his ministry most powerfully at the Jordan River, where the first exodus ended, we might then understand the immediate attraction and response of John’s own disciples when Jesus shows up, says the kingdom is at hand, and calls them to be fishers of men. They had been expecting something new, a new exodus, and in Jesus they see it is happening. And they want to respond immediately.
Do you ever compare yourself to today’s Gospel selection, and that seemingly immediate response of the disciples, and wonder whether you would be willing to follow the Lord so definitely, so conclusively? I suggest we note that these disciples encountered Jesus initially, and then some time later there was progression and maturation such that they were ready to follow him and commit to him. In other words, notice that our life as disciples, too, is not about just a one-time encounter. Our life too is supposed to progress and mature. The first encounter matters, but so does the next encounter, and the next… all the moments of progression and life with the Lord. What this can tell us is that any tendency to view life as a disciple as about just one moment, is dismissing the importance of progression and may be a flawed approach. To put this in a catholic context, if we were to think that my life with the Lord is just about my baptism or just about other isolated moments where I come to get a sacrament (as critically important as those are) and not about progression and maturation in gospel living, then we are mistaken. If we were to think that I turn on “Jesus time” by coming to Mass once a week and that does it, we are missing all the things that should be happening daily to mark our maturation as disciples. No, the story of our life as disciples is not the mistaken view of today’s passage that Jesus showed up unannounced and unknown, said “follow me”, and they dropped everything and did so. Rather, there was first desire on their part to be godly. There was initial conversion with John the Baptist. There was relationship with other disciples by which they were pointed to Jesus and had an initial encounter with him. There was maturation and progression in faith such that they responded so conclusively in the passage we hear today. And, as we know, there is a whole lot more to the story because those same disciples had to learn from the Master, and there were many more mistakes and repentance that would mark the journey that leads us to now view those apostles as such revered saints.
If you evaluate yourself against the response of the disciples in today’s passage, thinking their response to be this kind of out of nowhere response and think your response may be lacking, then perhaps we can look back to last Sunday’s passage from John for a few pointers. Do you want to respond more fully to the Lord? Then let’s take some cues from what happened in the initial encounter with the Lord that we heard about last Sunday. Like John’s disciples heard, at every Mass we have pointed out to us the presence of Jesus, “Behold, the Lamb of God.” After hearing that, are you willing to imagine the Lord asking you (like last week’s Gospel), “What are you looking for?” Are you willing to dwell on that and respond to the Lord? What are you looking for in life? What is important to you? What are your goals? What do your daily activities reveal are your true priorities? And do those match up with your stated priorities? Are your priorities the Lord and being his disciple? Where do you feel lacking or empty or not satisfied in life? Do the things you seek after provide lasting peace?
Next pointer, what was the follow up question from the disciples last week? “Rabbi, where are you staying?” Our encounter with the Lord is not just one time. Are you willing to stay with the Lord to come and see? We worship the Lord here at Mass. This provides us some crucial moments to stay with the Lord. We worship him present when the Holy Eucharist is elevated at the altar for those few moments. Worthy reception of the sacrament is the fullest participation in the Holy Mass. But what about more than that? The disciples from last week’s passage went and stayed that day with the Lord. What are you willing to do to extend your time with the Lord? What are you willing to do to take time to reveal yourself and your life to the Lord? What are you willing to do to take time to encounter him and get to know him, not just at Mass, but in your daily living, at home, and among other disciples? Going to stay with the Lord can happen quite literally in our adoration chapel where we are in the presence of the Lamb of God, his presence in sacramental form. What a place to pray! What a place to ask yourself “What am I looking for?” Going to stay with the Lord can and should happen, too, in our homes, at work and school, in the car, when we travel, in our thoughts, in our efforts at personal prayer time. Going to stay with the Lord happens too in fellowship with other believers. We are not islands unto ourselves. There we come to vocalize our faith, to share it, to be inspired by the faith of others, and to have help in being accountable with other followers of the Lord.
All of this helps aid progression and maturation in the faith. It follows the pattern we saw from last Sunday’s Gospel selection to this Sunday’s. I suggest that the fruit of reviewing those questions from last Sunday’s passage, helps set the stage for the unfolding of this Sunday’s passage in our own lives. Our encounter with the Lord is nourished and matures such that the stage can be set for what we see in today’s passage. We are prepared for deeper life with the Lord such that when he calls us to follow him in various ways into the new exodus, we are prepared to conclusively commit ourselves to follow him and to leave behind the “nets”, the things that tangle us and so often get placed ahead of life with the Lord. The Lord’s call is ever new for us too: “The kingdom of God is at hand. Repent, and believe in the gospel.”
Homily for the Third Sunday in Ordinary Time by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading 1 Jon 3:1-5, 10
Responsorial Psalm Ps 25:4-5, 6-7, 8-9
Reading 2 1 Cor 7:29-31
Alleluia Mk 1:15
Gospel Mk 1:14-20
Epiphania D.N.I.C.
7 January 2024
Things aren’t always as they seem.
The Israelites at the time period of the first reading could have said that. They’ve been in exile. Their land and their holy city are in ruins. They have lost their power. Yet God’s word through the Prophet Isaiah is of splendor, glory, riches, and wealth. The words from the first reading said: “Rise up in splendor, Jerusalem! … the glory of the Lord shines upon you … you shall be radiant at what you see … the riches of the sea shall be emptied out before you, the wealth of nations shall be brought to you.” But their land was in disarray and in ruins.
Things aren’t always as they seem.
The Magi – pagan foreigners from the East – came to find a newborn king. They brought costly gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh into the humble, ordinariness of the home of Joseph and Mary. Could a mighty king, whose birth even the cosmos celebrates with the Bethlehem star, possibly be in human form, in such a normal, simple setting?
Things aren’t always as they seem.
Certainly, part of the lesson of the Christmas season is that through the normal, ordinary events and things of life we are called to see the extraordinary. Said another way, the ordinary becomes the vehicle to reveal the extraordinary. Through the natural and human we are to see the divine. Through natural, sacramental signs – water, bread, wine, oil, words of absolution – we are to see, hear, taste, and touch the power and the presence of Christ.
I wonder how many times we miss God and His grace because we pass by the ordinary moments of life and faith? How much grace do we miss because we’re too busy to stop and make time for God’s presence in our midst?
Shepherds could see the glory of God even through the stench and the sounds of a stable. Magi could do homage to a king in a humble home and in the form of a weak, tiny baby. Do we train our eyes to see beyond the way things seem?
Things aren’t always as they seem.
Ask yourself what changes you can make in this New Year to notice God’s presence in the ordinary opportunities of daily life. Engage in that kind of self-reflection not so much to make “New Year’s resolutions”, but to do what we authentically do as Catholics, that is, to do what good catholics do: to repent and to plan for a season of change not far away on Ash Wednesday. Whatever your age or your state in life, whether you are a child, a teenager, young or older adult, whether you are single or married, ask yourself what changes you can make to train your eyes to see God’s presence in ordinary, humble circumstances. What change can you make to give time to daily prayer, scripture reading, and time to simply listen to God? What in your daily schedule can change to give more time and room to God? Could you alter your schedule some to be able to attend daily Mass at least a bit more frequently? What in your life needs to change to give more serious attention to repentance and to coming to confession with greater frequency? Ask yourself what you could change to be able to attend adoration in our chapel or to make your own personal visits to the church to pray before the Lord’s Real Presence in the tabernacle. That’s perhaps the best example of all of things not being what they seem: our senses see ordinary bread, but it is the real presence of God. What in your life could change so that you can notice Christ’s presence in those around you in need? What can you change to offer yourself in service to others in need, to show those in need the compassion, love, and healing of Christ?
Whether you are young or old and whatever your state in life, what can you change to train your eyes to see God’s presence in ordinary, normal, and humble circumstances of life? Shepherds could see the glory of God in a stable. The Magi could see a little baby and give Him homage, prostrating themselves before God-made-man. What do your eyes need to see beyond the ordinary things of life? After all, things aren’t always as they seem!
Homily for The Epiphany of the Lord by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading I Is 60:1-6
Responsorial Psalm Ps 72:1-2, 7-8, 10-11, 12-13.
Reading II Eph 3:2-3a, 5-6
Alleluia Mt 2:2
Gospel Mt 2:1-12
Homily for Christmas by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading I Is 9:1-6
Responsorial Psalm Ps 96: 1-2, 2-3, 11-12, 13.
Reading II Ti 2:11-14
Alleluia Lk 2:10-11
Gospel Lk 2:1-14
Nativitas D.N.I.C.
25 December 2023
At Christmas and throughout the season, we celebrate the feast of the drawing near of God, of God’s coming closer to us. Even though the most natural and immediate form of human communication is being with another, in his or her presence, sharing time with, and speaking with another, many decades of technological advancements have made the more remote, less personal, type of communication possible. And not only is that less personal communication possible but, in some cases, dare we admit, more desirable? Sort of revealing, the lesser angels of our nature. That we are happy to keep people at a distance. In addition, to these developments in communication, things have been turned upside down in recent years. Fear of a global illness caused social distancing and greater space between us, impacting the natural draw and exchange in human relationships.
But we celebrate the feast of the drawing near of God, of God’s coming closer to us. In my mind, the meaning of that coming closer is an invitation to put a focus on that most natural way human beings communicate: being personally with another, in the presence of another, sharing time with and speaking directly with another, or just being with another in uncomplicated silence. Perhaps we moderns, for all of our advantages, can actually suffer a disadvantage precisely due to our advantages. We can communicate in so many ways and even when such great distances keep us physically apart. We don’t have to pretend that such possibility isn’t a blessing. But it can also mislead us. Because we can communicate so freely and readily, even across great distances, we might be inclined to diminish the meaning of personal communication. That, in turn, might cause us to miss some of what is at stake in this feast of the great drawing near of God in the flesh.
Though we have many ways to stay connected, there is something different and more natural and fluid about that most immediate communication when personally present with another. I can recall my excitement years ago as a boy, awaiting the birth of my brother. For several months I could see that he was near but I couldn’t see him. I could see the signs in mom’s tummy that someone was there, but there was just enough distance that I couldn’t see him. There was not much of a barrier between us, just a few inches of flesh, right, but it was enough to prevent that type of more normal personal interaction. His birth changed all of that. He had come nearer and that permitted interaction and communication that was entirely new.
Christmas is all about that coming near of God to us in the flesh. As I think about how physical and personal nearness changes everything, and as I place that in the context of the spiritual life of faith, I see a connection for us to the practice of prayer. The birth of God in our midst permits an interaction and a communication that is entirely new. And here is where we moderns perhaps can fall prey to a risk, given all of our impressive means of communication across vast distances. We miss the natural and immediate value and the necessity of personal time spent with another, such that we might tend to downplay it, preferring the spectacle of communicating across distances. You can easily see this just about everywhere when you see folks together, in each other’s presence, but everyone’s face is bent down to a phone. At a restaurant, I sometimes wonder about how we have lost an art of human living, when you see a couple together and each face is lit up by a screen for long periods, such that they rarely interact directly.
Friends, God has come near to us. He is Emmanuel, a name which means “God-with-us”. He has drawn near and by His power as God that personal interaction, and relationship, and communication is possible if we practice it. And, furthermore, that personal interaction, and relationship, and communication is necessary so that we come close to God in the gift of freedom He has given us. If we celebrate Christmas, then we should not lose the lesson of developing that intimate, daily, regular encounter with the God who has drawn near to us. I dare say, a Catholic could do all the group, corporate things we do as a Church, those things we have an obligation to do, but without a personal prayer life, such a person wouldn’t be getting very far in life with God. In fulfillment of the Lord’s command at the Last Supper, “Do this in memory of me”, and in fulfillment of the divine law in the Ten Commandments to honor God on his day, we have the opportunity and the obligation to be at Mass every Sunday and every holy day. Yet, I suggest that the catholic could fulfill those obligations yet not reap the full reward of grace if we are not seeking to advance in a daily life of prayer for which we take personal responsibility. No, we can’t do without the group gathering at Holy Mass; but, even attending Mass, would remain shallow without the personal effort at prayer. Many a catholic could show up at those times when a new sacrament is offered, only to disappear until the next one is offered. While God is not cheap in His gift of grace in those sacramental moments, how stilted and undeveloped would those moments be if not for the personal effort to pray and to live that faith beyond just the moments when one “gets” something at Church?
Why would I say this? Because the meaning of what we celebrate at Christmas is that God, in taking on our flesh and being born in time, has come near to us. And He has come near so that we can remain near to Him. There is simply nothing that really adequately replaces the value of being physically and personally with another and to share life. By His power as God, although the Lord Jesus has fulfilled his physical mission on earth, he can and does remain personally present to us when we work at following the life of regular personal prayer. Such personal prayer is like preparing the soil of our lives so that all the things we do as a group, all those normal obligations we fulfill corporately as Catholics, has a good place to be planted and to come to bear much fruit. Prayer prepares the soil. The Gospel passage (from St. Luke [for the Midnight Mass]) of the events surrounding the birth of Christ places it in a real historical time and place: naming figures like Caesar Augustus and Quirinius the Governor of Syria. I don’t know about you, but I don’t have any relationship with them. They are too far away across the bounds of history. The closest I can get is to read about them on Wikipedia. But God coming near in Jesus Christ is different! Jesus is the good news of great joy proclaimed by the angel. He is for all the people. He is the Savior born for us. He is the sign of a God who has come close so as to be wrapped in swaddling clothes and placed in the manger. Our coming to adore Him is not just what we do here together, as critically important and irreplaceable as that is. Our adoring of Him involves our equally drawing near to Him in our personal daily prayer wherever we are, in our coming to encounter Him in our adoration chapel, in our striving to be like Him in the moral life, and in our faithful practice of the sacramental life by which He deposits the grace of His life within us. We must work at personal prayer. We must be on guard such that modern communication methods don’t result in training us to keep a distance from God, our faces buried in screens and busy with so many things. May our prayer place us in that posture of physical and personal encounter with God such that we proclaim His glory in the highest, and such that his favor may come to rest on us!
Homily for Christmas by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading I Is 9:1-6
Responsorial Psalm Ps 96: 1-2, 2-3, 11-12, 13.
Reading II Ti 2:11-14
Alleluia Lk 2:10-11
Gospel Lk 2:1-14
Dominica II Adventus B
10 December 2023
If you can recall how Advent started with last Sunday’s Gospel passage, you might be experiencing some “evangelical whiplash”. A new liturgical year, a new season, began last Sunday with Advent. Yet, that weekend’s Gospel was a selection more toward the end of St. Mark’s Gospel and maintained the theme of the coming judgement with the awaited return of the Lord in glory. This Sunday’s Gospel selection sort of violently throws us back to the opposite pole of Advent. The selection comes from the first verses of St. Mark’s Gospel and it seems more “advent-y” since we hear of the great Advent figure of St. John the Baptist, and the call to prepare the way of the Lord. We are back to the beginnings with the Gospel selection this weekend and that can serve as a theme for us and the spiritual renewal we need in Advent to prepare anew the way of the Lord in our own daily lives, in our hearts, our minds, and our souls.
It is clear from the Gospel selection that something about St. John the Baptist’s location, his proclamation, and his appearance hit a nerve such that great numbers of people were coming out to him. The Gospel tells us that St. John appeared “in the desert” and that he was baptizing people “in the Jordan River.” The details of St. John’s location can serve as signals that pointed Jews of his time back to the Exodus. When God began to execute that foundational saving event of the Exodus by bringing His people out of Egypt, where did the Hebrew people go? They went out into the desert. They journeyed there 40 years as God sought to train them to break their connection to Egypt, to be trained in His law, and to move away from slavery and toward the Promised Land. And where did the Exodus end? It ended at the Jordan River as the twelve tribes crossed the Jordan into the Promised Land. We can say that the action of St. John is equivalent to calling Jews back to the beginnings of their foundational experience of salvation in the Exodus. St. John’s preaching and administering of a baptism of repentance at the Jordan River can serve to call God’s people back to this pivotal place in their history and, at the same time, to announce that a new exodus is arriving. This gospel scene is an opportunity for God’s people to be renewed in their covenant so that they are ready for how God will still fulfill His promises and more perfectly bring about redemption by the arrival of the “one mightier” than St. John, who is to come. And no surprise, then, that if you read further into the Gospels after Jesus has engaged in his preaching and is nearing his arrival in Jerusalem for crucifixion, that event is marked by the imagery of Passover and exodus. In fact, St. Luke in the Transfiguration account even indicates that Moses and Elijah appear alongside Jesus speaking to him about his exodus (Lk. 9:30-31).
The ministry of St. John called multitudes back to their beginnings to be renewed in repentance and the forgiveness of sins, so that they would be prepared for the new thing God desired to do by His sacrifice on the Cross and his passage, as through the Red Sea or the veil torn open in the Temple, ushering the way into the everlasting promised land of heaven. The Gospel selection likewise serves as a call to us to return to our beginnings when we were brought out of slavery to sin, passing through the waters of baptism, and given the hope of crossing that final Jordan into heaven. We exist in the time of the new exodus accomplished by Jesus. We have been brought into that most perfect covenant of salvation in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. We have been redeemed. Yet, like God’s people returning time and again to the poison of Egypt, we are inclined to sin and struggle to remain alive and faithful to the New Covenant. We also need to go back to our beginnings. We also need to hear the call to repentance. We also need the forgiveness of our sins. We also need to respond in great multitudes to this urgent Advent call to be prepared. The Lord’s first arrival accomplished the salvation of the Cross and ushered in the power of the sacraments. We need to remain in that covenant gift and we need to renew ourselves in that fountain of sacramental grace flowing from the Lord’s open side on the Cross so that we are prepared for the Lord’s return in glory and our final passage to the heavenly promised land.
With good reason the Church teaches us that one of the values of confession and sacramental absolution is that we are restored to baptismal grace (cf. CCC 1446). We are called back to our beginnings in confession. We are called back to that first gift of the forgiveness of sins. After baptism we struggle with sin and we are inclined to sin. After baptism, we commit sins for which we bear personal responsibility. Such sins also need to be forgiven. Like St. John’s ministry in today’s passage, we are called back to our beginnings in this holy season. God is not done with us. And we must prepare for His return in glory as Judge. We pray so frequently, even daily, in the Lord’s Prayer, “forgive us our trespasses”. How foolish it would be to make such a request but then to never return, or to rarely return, to our beginnings where Jesus has indicated his gift of forgiveness and mercy exists, where it is found, is heard with our ears, and where it is granted in the sacrament of confession.
The preaching of St. Peter in the second reading likewise proclaims this call to repentance and the coming day of judgment. The Lord “is patient with you, not wishing that any should perish but that all should come to repentance. But the day of the Lord will come like a thief, and then the heavens will pass away with a mighty roar and the elements will be dissolved by fire, and the earth and everything done on it will be found out…. Therefore, beloved, since you await these things, be eager to be found without spot or blemish before him, at peace.”
Homily for the Second Sunday of Advent by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading 1 IS 40:1-5, 9-11
Responsorial Psalm PS 85:9-10-11-12, 13-14
Reading 2 2 PT 3:8-14
Alleluia LK 3:4, 6
Gospel ]MK 1:1-8
Homily for the Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading 1 Gn 3:9-15, 20
Responsorial Psalm PS 98:1, 2-3ab, 3cd-4
Reading 2 Eph 1:3-6, 11-12
Alleluia See Lk 1:28
Gospel Lk 1:26-38
Dominica I Adventus B
3 December 2023
The season of Advent calls us to prepare for the Lord. It calls us to prepare to observe the Lord’s first arrival at Christmas. Advent also insists that we do not take our focus off of the arrival we still await: the Lord’s return in glory. This season calls us to prepare space in our lives and to prepare time each day to be with the Lord. Advent gives us the opportunity in alert, quiet prayer and in repentance from sin to be prepared to meet the Lord. The type of preparation that disciples do is not narrowly focused only on arriving at some important event, like Christmas Day or Judgement Day. Rather, the preparation of disciples has a broader focus. It is a focus on living the faith now consistently; it is a focus on being prepared so as to be ready for some future event; and it is a focus on living beyond that event. This broader focus may explain in part why at this time of year Catholics celebrate our Christmas joy only after Advent preparations, and why we continue to celebrate our Christmas joy well beyond Christmas Day; whereas, the world has mostly focused on the date of December 25th and has in large part already thrown out the Christmas Tree on December 26th.
This broader focus of Catholic preparation should be familiar to us. We observe this broader focus all the time, so that we live beyond the event we are preparing for. We have a time of preparation before baptism so that baptism is understood not merely as a cultural marker or as a static moment, but as a dynamic change of life that requires one to live baptismal commitments long after the wet hair has dried. When children are preparing for their First Confession and First Holy Communion, it should be clear they are preparing to live those sacraments well beyond the first reception. A catholic comes again and again to confession so that a catholic can more worthily receive again and again the great gift of the Holy Eucharist in Holy Communion. Confirmation is not a graduation from living the faith. It comes as the culmination of first living the faith. And it is a gift of grace to be strong in being a witness to the Lord as a disciple more united to the mission of the Church. The final example I’ll offer to demonstrate that a disciple is called to a broad view of preparation is the example of marriage. I hope I can state with 100 percent agreement that no one would approach marriage with that more narrow view of preparation that focuses only on the wedding day. Couples engage in marriage preparation for an extended period of time ahead of marriage such that they are strengthened to make their commitments, such that they arrive at the joyful event of the wedding day maximally prepared, and so that they live beyond the event, beyond just the day. Disciples prepare in such a way to be focused to live a life of commitment in holy matrimony until death do they part.
In fact, as of now I can’t think of any important preparation we do as disciples that is really only about a narrow focus on a moment or an event, or a date on the calendar. It is all about preparing in advance for an event that we are called to live beyond one solitary moment. My examples of the type of broad preparation that a disciple must undertake have all been on the sacraments. I chose that because I think it is familiar and easily understood. But the point of this is to accept this template of broad preparation and to refer it back to the Gospel and the warnings we hear from the Lord about preparing for his arrival. Our preparation to be ready to meet the Lord when he comes again must begin now. Preparing now means we grow in our commitments as a disciple in the present. In so doing, we gradually and increasingly become the type of disciple who is prepared for that unknown day and hour of the Lord’s return. By taking up this broader view of preparation as regards the coming judgment, we are then living in a way that has us alert, watchful, and ready for the Lord. And if that is the case, then we have hope to live beyond the event of his return, for our focus must also be the life to come after judgment.
The gift of Advent comes perhaps when we most need it. It comes at a time of year that tends to be very hectic. The advent call to a robust and broad preparation for the Lord comes when stores have us focusing on Christmas since September, with the risk that a focus on the return of the Lord in glory is almost totally eclipsed, so inundated are we about December 25th. The gift of Advent comes to us in a culture marked heavily by Protestantism, some popular forms of which like to calculate the end times in a narrow focus given mostly to the event of the Lord’s return. But our focus needs to be broadly on living now and living well our life in the Lord so that we are alert when the event happens, and ready to live beyond it as the Lord ushers in his kingdom. I always find it curious when a well-meaning Christian spends a good amount of time figuring out the signs of the times and seeming to calculate them. That is curious because it is directly contrary to God’s Word. In fact, the very verse before today’s Gospel passage has Jesus indicate that “of that day or hour, no one knows, neither the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father”. Not even the Son knows! It is the Father’s secret. In view of preparing for that arrival of the Lord we still await, the Lord does not want calculation but… “vigilation” – you know, to be vigilant! In the brief Gospel passage we heard it several times: Be watchful! Be alert! Don’t be found sleeping. Watch! Only a broadly viewed preparation that begins now adequately addresses that call of the Lord. The call of the Gospel can serve as an examination of conscience for us. Are there areas where I am not accepting the teaching of Christ and his Church? Areas where I am holding onto some opinion or popular thought that is not consistent with authentic Catholicism? If so, then I am asleep. Are there areas where my moral choices are not consistent with living well my life in the Lord here and now? If so, then I am asleep. Are there areas where I do not practice the sacramental life as I should, leaving myself void of the grace that is the Lord’s gift for my preparation? If so, then I am asleep. Is there always time for so many things except a meaningful and vibrant daily prayer life? If so, then I am asleep. “May he not come suddenly and find you sleeping. What I say to you, I say to all: ‘Watch’!”
Homily for the First Sunday of Advent by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading 1 IS 63:16B-17, 19B; 64:2-7
Responsorial Psalm PS 80:2-3, 15-16, 18-19
Reading II 1 COR 1:3-9
Alleluia PS 85:8
Gospel MK 13:33-37
Homily for the Thirty-second Sunday in Ordinary Time by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading 1 Wis 6:12-16
Responsorial Psalm Ps 63:2, 3-4, 5-6, 7-8
Reading 2 1 Thes 4:13-18
Alleluia Mt 24:42a, 44
Gospel Mt 25:1-13
Dominica XXXII per Annum A
12 November 2023
The selection of St. Matthew’s Gospel comes from the section offering parables about watchfulness and preparedness for the coming judgment. In this parable, Christ is the Bridegroom, the virgins are an image for the community of believers, an image for disciples, and the oil for lamps is an image of goodness or the performance of good works that should mark the disciple’s life. After all, elsewhere in St. Matthew, at the Sermon on the Mount, we hear that good deeds are like the light of a lamp that must shine before others (cf. Mt. 5:16). By showcasing in this passage the foolishness of going out to meet the bridegroom without preparing, the gospel calls us to be prepared and to consider whether our actions match up with our stated intentions to be disciples. Are we ready to meet Christ the Bridegroom and to enter Heaven, imaged as a wedding feast? Only those who are ready will enter. As the gospel describes, “those who were ready went into the wedding feast…. Then the door was locked.” Are we foolish and unprepared? Are we carrying enough oil (good works)?
Our Catholic faith teaches us about the origin and the meaning of things in our world, and how to live well in this world. Our faith also tells us about our end in this world and our destination beyond this life. Thus, our Catholic faith highlights what are called the Four Last Things. These four last things are death, judgment, Heaven, and Hell. Let’s examine them briefly. Being aware of our ultimate end goal can help us take the next step to be focused on the steps to get there. I’m going to reorder the typical listing so that we end on a more hopeful note with Heaven.
Death
Death is a consequence of Original Sin. Death is the event whereby the soul separates from the body; the soul lives on because it is immortal, while the body decomposes. The soul is immediately judged and is rewarded with Heaven, punished with Hell, or sent for a time of cleansing to Purgatory prior to final arrival in Heaven. We should always live as ready for death since, for the most part, none of us knows when, where, or how we will die. Being aware of death and reflecting frequently upon it can give us impulse to avoid sin. How foolish if we prepare our temporal, worldly affairs, by means of a last will and testament, but we leave our soul unprepared and open to being picked over and looted by agents of the kingdom of darkness and eternal death. For people of Christian faith bodily death is not the end. And death is not the greatest enemy. Let me say that again: for people of Christian faith, death is not the greatest enemy. Rather, the greatest enemy is a death for which we are unprepared since it may carry the consequence of an eternal death of the soul. For this reason, a wise devotion in our Catholic practice encourages us to pray that the Lord spare us from what is called an “unprovided death”. An “unprovided death” means a death that comes upon us suddenly and for which we are unprepared and found lacking because we have neglected our soul, we are not in a state of grace due to not having confessed our sins, and we have no recourse to the Sacraments at the time our end comes.
Judgment
Immediately after our death we believe we experience a judgment before Christ that is called the Particular Judgment. It is called ‘particular’ because it is individual and comes to each of us at the particular moment when our death arrives. The soul’s eternal destiny is decided and established at the Particular Judgment. The soul that dies in baptismal innocence, that is, in a perfect state of grace, and having satisfied and repaired for the sins he has committed, experiences the eternity of Heaven directly. The soul that dies in mortal sin experiences the eternity of Hell directly. The soul that dies in the general state of grace but imperfectly so, that is, being guilty only of lesser sins, or needing to atone for the temporal punishment due to sins already confessed and forgiven, such a soul experiences the final purification of mercy in the temporary “place” we call Purgatory. We should note that Purgatory is a temporary “place” leading eventually to entrance into Heaven. Wisdom calls us to live each day in preparation for the judgment that will come after death. Our prayer life, our service to others, our voluntary penances, our frequent confessions and worthy Holy Communions are all ways we seek to have enough oil for our lamps as we go to meet the Lord. We also express belief in a judgment that is called the General, or the Universal, Judgment. Unlike the Particular Judgment that comes to each soul individually, the General Judgment will be that day when the Lord returns at the end of the world. At that time, he will call all the dead to rise, bringing new life to our separated bodies. At the General Judgment we will experience the judgment we received at our death, only now as souls united to a resurrected body, experiencing bodily the glory and joys of Heaven or the pains of Hell.
Hell
The Book of Revelation teaches us that nothing unclean, nothing with the stain of sin, and no one who practices abomination and falsehood can enter God’s presence (Rev. 21:27). Sin and God cannot coexist. For this reason, our faith teaches us that the serious sin we call “mortal” separates us from God. And, if we die with unrepented mortal sin, even just one, we are destined for Hell. Hell is an eternal existence of separation from God, awareness of our foolishness in squandering God’s blessings, and an existence of torment and punishment. The words of Scripture and of Christ himself describe Hell as a ‘place’ of unquenchable and everlasting fire, a bottomless pit, everlasting punishment, a lake of fire, and the outer darkness. This truth of faith that sin offends God and deserves punishment is not unfair; rather, it is an expression of truth and justice. There is no true justice if wrongdoing is not punished. Likewise, on the flip side, there is no true justice if good doing is not rewarded. Both are needed as expressions of authentic justice. We should remember after all that, in God’s goodness, we are not required to remain in sin. He has died to save us and He gives us every good thing so that we can be fully alive in Him. God does not desire to send us to Hell. That should give us confidence and hope. Going to Hell would be our fault, not God’s.
Heaven
The eternal life of blessing and communion with God, described as a great wedding feast, is heaven. Heaven is God’s full desire for us and it is the fulfillment of our desire too, because we have been made for God. Those who die in the perfect state of grace or who, being in an imperfect state of grace have been purified in Purgatory, will enjoy perfect and everlasting happiness with God and all the angels and saints who worship around Him. In Heaven the blessed enjoy the greatest gift and fulfillment of seeing God as He is. This Beatific Vision of God refers to an active knowing and loving of God to our fullest capacity. And it refers to being known and loved by God in return. This is the destiny God desires for us and He has left nothing undone to provide this for those who are wise in being prepared.
The Collect of this Holy Mass states that we may be “unhindered” to pursue the things of God. Are we truly unhindered if we aren’t prepared, if our souls aren’t ready to have the obstacle of sin removed from us? In the psalm we prayed, “My soul is thirsting for you, O Lord my God.” Does our preparedness reveal a real thirst for God, a real longing? We are called to be prepared as people who have hope. We are not called to an anxiety-filled preparation. We have hope because of the Lord’s goodness. He has told us in advance to stay awake and to prepare. He has given us time to do so. Furthermore, by his passion and resurrection, and the outpouring of his grace that comes to us in prayer and the Sacraments, he has given us all the gifts and tools necessary to be prepared. If we say we are going to Heaven and if we say we desire Jesus, then let’s be wise about it before the door is locked. For at a day and an hour we cannot know the cry will go out: “Behold, the bridegroom! Come out to meet him!”
Homily for the Solemnity of All Saints by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading 1 Rv 7:2-4, 9-14
Responsorial Psalm Ps 24:1bc-2, 3-4ab, 5-6
Reading 2 1 Jn 3:1-3
Alleluia Mt 11:28
Gospel Mt 5:1-12a
Dominica XXIX per Annum A
22 October 2023
You’ve heard the phrase: Politics makes for strange bedfellows. If you need a break from the strange bedfellows keeping the US Congress from being able to elect a Speaker of the House… then this gospel passage gives you a brief diversion. In the gospel we have the strange bedfellows of the Pharisees and the Herodians. The Pharisees view Roman occupation of Judea as an abomination and the Herodians adopt a more cooperative stance with living in the gentile Roman world. Yet, these two groups come together in a very charged exchange with Jesus by which the Pharisees attempt to entrap the Lord in this well known dilemma of paying the census tax to Caesar or not. The Gospel passage makes clear that the Pharisees are motivated by malice toward the Lord and they are seeking to test him and to entrap him. They butter him up with flattery, “Teacher, we know that you are a truthful man and that you teach the way of God in accordance with the truth. And you are not concerned with anyone’s opinion.” They ask: “Is it lawful to pay the census tax to Caesar or not?” Now, this may not strike us as a really charged exchange, but it definitely is in the time of the Lord, for if the Lord answers “yes, it is lawful” then he will incite uproar among the Pharisees and their ilk by seeming to condone cooperation with Roman occupation. If he says “no, it is not lawful” then he will be inspiring a tax revolt against Rome. Rome historically dealt ferociously with such rebellions.
The ingenious response from the Lord is to ask for a coin that is used to pay the census tax. Curiously, the Rome-rejecting Pharisees easily produce such a coin. I guess they are more than willing to use the coin despite their protestations and religious purity. In any event, we can learn a profound lesson by how the Lord dissolves their trap. The Roman denarius coin bears the “ikon”, the Greek biblical text says, bears the “image” of Caesar, in this case the Emperor Tiberius Caesar. The Pharisees and the Herodians easily identify that the coin bears the image and the inscription of Caesar. The coin belongs to him, to the Empire. The Lord then shifts the conversation away from the notion of cooperating in the tax. Instead, the Lord maneuvers to make the focus about giving to someone what belongs to him. In this case, Jesus says to give to Caesar what is his.
The Roman coin is stamped with the image of its owner, the one who has authority over it. Jesus says to repay to Caesar what belongs to him. But he goes on to say, “and [repay] to God what belongs to God.” Thinking about this Gospel image, we have a coin with the ikon, the image of Caesar. It belongs to Caesar and should be given back to him. But if we are to repay to God what belongs to Him, this begs a question: Where is God’s image? Where is it stamped so that we repay that “coin” back to Him?
In escaping their trap, the Lord teaches us a profound lesson about ourselves and about giving to God what He is owed. And to grasp that we need to rest on the foundation of all that has preceded in the revelation of faith. The Book of Genesis tells us a truth of creation. In creation man is made, we are made, in God’s image and likeness. Human persons are ikons of God. Our faith tells us that, though we never lose the dignity of being made in God’s image, our likeness (that is, our “appearance”) is marred by the Fall, by the Original Sin we each inherit. Though the image remains, our likeness to that image, our likeness to God, is disfigured by sin. Our fallen nature, brought about by that first grave sin in the garden, carries the consequence of eternal separation from God. By faith and baptism, our original holiness is restored, and the obstacle that bars our entrance to heaven is removed. Thus, that is at least one reason why it is so important to be baptized, and quickly. It’s a large part of why we baptize infants in our Catholic practice. And so, I have some bad news for you, your kids are cute and all, but until they are baptized they are little pagans whose likeness to God has been disfigured! That’s not so cute when it comes to heaven. What about after baptism? When in ongoing weakness we disfigure ourselves by sin, by the personal sins for which we bear guilt, confession restores our baptismal dignity long after we have been washed by the waters of regeneration. And so, I have some bad news for us, we might look like disciples, but we are counterfeit “coins” for as long as God’s likeness is not visible in us, and not healed by confession. When we commit sin and refuse the importance of confession we are fraudulent images. In this, we aren’t giving back to God what belongs to Him. In fact, God doesn’t accept sin as repayment for stamping us with His image.
This Gospel exchange takes place in the heated atmosphere of Jesus’ final days before he would lay down his life to pay all for us and for our salvation. His words teach us of our innate dignity: that by God’s generous love He has stamped us with His own image, the image of His glory, giving us freedom, giving us the ability to use our minds, and to receive and to return His love. And a repayment is expected. The first reading teaches clearly that there are no other gods before the one true God. We can’t make payment to idols, to other gods, and still have credit with the one true God. The Gospel and the psalm tell us to give glory and honor to God, to give to Him what He is owed. Living the life of faith and holiness guards our proper image and likeness and is the payment that gives to God what belongs to Him. St. Paul says in his Letter to the Romans, “For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord” (6:23).
Sin mars the likeness of our image to God. And sin is not the form of payment God accepts; it is not giving to God what belongs to Him. The good news is that He Himself has paid the price to heal our sin. In guarding our likeness to Him by faith and by striving personally for moral conduct, by using prayer and the helps He gives us in the sacraments, we are helping to populate the great census of Heaven. By repaying to God what belongs to God, He pays greater dividends still by admitting us to eternal life in the Kingdom of His glory.
Homily for the Twenty-ninth Sunday in Ordinary Time by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading 1 Is 45:1, 4-6
Responsorial Psalm Ps 96:1, 3, 4-5, 7-8, 9-10
Reading 2 1 Thes 1:1-5b
Alleluia Phil 2:15d, 16a
Gospel Mt 22:15-21
Dominica XXVII per Annum A
8 October 2023
The parable of the wicked tenants is one of the Lord’s final parables before his passion, death, and resurrection. In context, the Lord is speaking this parable in Jerusalem and in the face of mounting tension and opposition as factions seek to find ways to get rid of him. Since we have heard a few parables lately, I think it is helpful to first recall this context and to recall to whom the Lord is speaking. This parable takes place after the Lord cleanses the temple and curses the fig tree that did not have fruit, so we can observe that there are some dramatic things going on surrounding this parable. After those episodes, the Lord returns to the Temple and the chief priests and the elders of the people, the religious authorities, are there and they want to know by what authority he is doing these things. So, we learn in context, that the parable we hear today is directed to the religious leaders of the Jewish people. To them, and not to a generic group or to the crowds, the Lord speaks this parable of the wicked tenants and the vineyard. This parable sets up a confrontation with authority. The Lord is speaking to the Jewish priests and religious leaders. He is speaking to them in the Holy City Jerusalem. And he is speaking to them in the Temple. That’s like putting several exclamation points on the notion of confrontation with authority.
We learn something of the background here by being aware of the prophecy of Isaiah, in which he uses the same image of a vineyard eight centuries earlier. In fact, the Lord is making a direct reference to the prophecy of Isaiah in his use of this parable. We heard that earlier prophecy of Isaiah in the first reading. In it we find that God is the owner and lover of a vineyard for which He does everything so that it produces good fruit. In Isaiah we learn that the vineyard is the people of Israel and also Jerusalem, the inhabitants of the Holy City. Isaiah is here prophesying about the failure of the people of Israel to produce the good fruit of covenant relationship with God. In producing wild grapes instead of good, that is, the bitter grapes of sin and lack of fidelity, Isaiah prophesies about the destruction of Jerusalem, this privileged place of encounter with God.
In referencing this parable, the Lord is not merely using a familiar image of agriculture. He, like Isaiah, is offering a stinging indictment of the failure of the Holy City, its inhabitants, the people of Israel to produce the good grapes of holiness. And the Lord is taking it right to the top by this confrontation with the religious leaders of the nation of Israel, the vineyard, from which God demands a good harvest for a worthy vintage. With the Old Testament background in mind we can identify that this parable speaks of God as the vineyard owner. He demands a yield of good fruit from his vineyard, that is from His people Israel. He goes to great length to prepare his vineyard and to protect it such that there should be no reason it would not produce good fruit. He sends his servants to announce the time of harvest and these can serve as an image of the prophets. In all this we learn that Jesus is accusing the Jewish religious authorities of being the wicked tenants, who do their own thing with the vineyard, who yield bitter grapes, and who reject and kill the prophets and even the Son himself. And that’s the twist of this parable. That God would send His own Son to arrogant wicked tenants who are not serving His purposes for the precious vineyard, but who are doing their own thing with a vineyard that is not their own. In this we have another lesson of the reckless generosity of God who goes to great lengths and does everything necessary such that His people will produce the fruit He requires and demands. He sends His own Son knowing that he likewise will be rejected and killed, but he will become the chief cornerstone of the Kingdom. The chief priests and the elders know that Jesus is speaking this parable about them. If you read the whole passage you find just two verses after today’s passage this line: “When the chief priests and the Pharisees heard his parables, they perceived that he was speaking about them.”
Born within the Jewish people, Jesus is the faithful Israel. He establishes a new Kingdom, a new covenant. This takes place in his Church called together from Israel and from all nations. Thus, taking all this imagery together we should note this progression: The vineyard is the house of Israel. The house of Israel is fulfilled in the Church. Thus, the vineyard is the Church. The Church is the fulfillment of that precious vineyard that belongs to God the Father, from which He demands the good fruit of holiness, and to which He sends His own beloved Son who dies for our salvation such that nothing should prevent us from producing that required fruit. Nothing, that is, but our own arrogance and refusal in freedom to belong to the vineyard and to do what God demands.
We live in a time of immense arrogance. Man places himself in the center of the universe, in the center of all things, and makes himself the reference point for whatever he wants to be true – even when that is a lie. Fallen and arrogant man decides that things around himself must change and conform to what makes him feel whole and complete. He foolishly says, it is not I who must change but it is the order of the world and even Christ’s teaching that must convert to me. Sadly, even people who should know better fall right in line with this way of thinking and acting. As predicted in 2 Timothy 4:3-4, “For the time is coming when people will not endure sound teaching, but having itching ears they will accumulate for themselves teachers to suit their own likings, and will turn away from listening to the truth and wander into myths.” Today’s parable of the Lord is a direct confrontation with the religious authorities of the vineyard that is the house of Israel. It doesn’t take much imagination to find a direct application to the religious authorities of the fulfillment of the vineyard that is the Church. We live in a time of great confusion, arrogance, and cynicism. With so much instantaneous mass communication you likely are painfully aware of the silly, confusing, and stupid things that even some of the Church’s religious leaders speak. I know many of you are aware of this and you worry. You are bombarded with feeling like leaders who should be helping you save your souls and helping you raise your children in salvation are working against you. I can’t but conclude that our time is not much different in needing the confrontation that our Blessed Lord leveled against some of the top leaders of his time. We have some wicked tenants in the vineyard. I wish it was not so. But it seems it is. And the Lord has still laid down his life for us. And we are not going to abandon him, even if some leaders seem bent on destroying the good grapes and planting seeds that are going nowhere but to destruction. Take heart! The stone rejected by the builders is the corner stone and it is wonderful in our eyes! What did we hear in the second reading? “Have no anxiety at all, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, make your requests known to God. Then the peace of God that surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus” (Phil. 4:6-7).
We hear this parable in the month dedicated to the Holy Rosary. My brothers and sisters, we can’t be unaware and we won’t be naïve about the wolves in sheep’s clothing that cause us suffering in the vineyard. But that doesn’t mean that giving excessive focus to the crop of wild grapes becomes virtuous or wise either. Spending too much of our time and energy in the echo chamber of gossip, watching YouTube videos, and reading blogs (even those that rightfully expose the empty talk that confuses us in our time) will not result in peace and a good harvest that God demands from us. Even when it is a matter of hearing good teachers refute the bad teachers of our time, how many times – really?! – how many times do we need to hear the same good argument refuting the nonsense that disturbs us? Again, we shouldn’t be unaware of the false teachers and we shouldn’t be unware of the good arguments that refute them. However, how much time are we willing to give to unite ourselves in relationship to God? Only that will save us and lead us to be good grapes. For every time I am ready to hit play on the next YouTube video from that good priest, or for every time I am ready to type in the web address of that blog that speaks the authentic truth, am I willing instead to pray, to go to adoration to be with the Lord, to pick up the Rosary? In this month of the Rosary, I want to challenge you to a new dedication to that prayer, a real weapon for our times. Get here early to Mass and join in its public recitation. If you don’t pray it at home, turn off the television and get doing that as a family. Do it often, even daily. If you have even just 20 minutes in a car ride, you have time to pray the Rosary. You men and fathers had best be the ones taking the lead in making this happen in your families, to protect the vineyard of the domestic Church. If there is resistance and complaining, who cares! You lead. Be the priest of your home and speak with your wife about age-appropriate ways to pray as a family. Pray for the Pope and for our bishop. Pray for all the bishops, no matter whether you think they are the good ones or the bad ones. They need our prayers. Only prayer and relationship with God will afford us peace in our times and only that will save us when the vineyard owner finally comes and puts those wicked tenants to a wretched death. Our Lady is the premier model of faith and discipleship and of producing good fruit. Pray for us, oh Holy Mother of God! That we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ!
Homily for the Twenty-Seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading 1 Isa 5:1-7
Responsorial Psalm Ps 80:9, 12, 13-14, 15-16, 19-20
Reading 2 Phil 4:6-9
Alleluia Cf. Jn 15:16
Gospel Mt 21:33-43
Dominica XXIV per Annum A
17 September 2023
Last weekend’s readings instructed us about the difficult work of confronting error and sin. This is a work we are called to do and which we must do with the mind of Christ, with the approach of charity (or love). When we must face the need to repent, when we ourselves are called to repent and change, we must not harden our hearts to that movement of God’s grace, to the call of His voice. This weekend’s readings continue that theme, reminding us that mercy and forgiveness should mark our Christian life. Our faith stretches us and challenges us to live by higher standards than the secular world proposes.
The readings today tell us that we cannot suffer any illusions about being Christian if we refuse to forgive and to show mercy to others. The first reading describes a way of being and acting that is not of God. Unfortunately, it also describes a way of being and acting for which Christians at times try to make excuses. But no such excuses exist in God. The first reading said, “Wrath and anger are hateful things, yet the sinner hugs them tight. The vengeful will suffer the Lord’s vengeance….” “Could anyone nourish anger against another and expect healing from the Lord? Could anyone refuse mercy to another like himself, can he seek pardon for his own sins?” Even we who are believers make excuses for our behavior, while condemning the behavior of others. As God’s Word tells us: to the degree that we hug wrath and anger to ourselves, we are not living in God. To the degree that we nourish anger and refuse mercy, we are really preventing ourselves from experiencing the mercy we need from God, if we are to be saved from a merciless Hell of our own making.
Jesus adopts this wisdom of the Old Testament and teaches that we must reflect God’s mercy if we belong to God. Jesus’ teaching also erodes any false notions that we can be true Christians while mercilessly harboring lack of civility, lack of charity, and anger toward another. Such behavior will not breed God’s life in us. Instead it will breed death and eternal destruction. Jesus teaches this by showing us the wicked servant who refuses to forgive a fellow servant’s debt, even though his own debt had just been wiped clean. Jesus’ teaching tells us that it cannot be this way in his kingdom, the Church, because it cannot and will not be this way when his kingdom comes in its fullness in Heaven. In the gospel, Peter thinks he’s being generous by offering to forgive seven times. Jesus indicates his disciples must forgive seventy-seven times. The reference to sevens is a way of indicating fullness or completeness, of saying that his disciples must extend God’s mercy and forgiveness many times – even every time.
Surely there is some catch here. Surely there is some way around this, right? No. Not if one belongs to Christ. Jesus warns that we cannot and will not be forgiven if we are unwilling to forgive others. Jesus tells us clearly that we must be merciful as our Father is merciful. And St. Paul explains why this is so. He writes, “None of us lives for oneself…. If we live, we live for the Lord…. we are the Lord’s.” We have been given the Father’s mercy at the price of the precious Blood of His only Son, Jesus our Lord. If we take that gift, but hold onto wrath and anger, refusing to forgive others, then we make a mockery of the cost of the Blood of Christ. We call cheap what is the most precious Blood of Jesus.
We must combat this tendency of our fallen nature to make excuses for anger, wrath, and vengeance. These excuses show we rule our lives by sin instead of the grace of God. When we hug wrath and anger to ourselves, when we hold on to that, we actually are hugging dysfunction, unhappiness, and eternal death all the closer. It is a grand challenge to truly live as a Christian, aware of our own need to confess, repent, and experience God’s mercy, so that we can extend that mercy to others. In our time many Christians live day after day in grave sin, compounding evil upon themselves because they refuse to experience God’s mercy in confession, or they rarely do so. People sometimes say they don’t like confession, or they don’t come because they are nervous about telling a priest their sins. This may be partially true. But it may be more likely that people who stay away from confession perhaps recognize the hypocrisy in coming to the sacrament to expect forgiveness from God while they hold onto anger against others. Perhaps infrequent practice of confession in our time is actually a sign that we need to form our lives around today’s readings, being willing to put away debts so that we can get on with the critical work of having our own debts forgiven. We only have so much time to live according to God’s Word. The first reading wisely reminds us: “Remember your last days, set enmity aside; remember death and decay, and cease from sin!”
Homily for the Twenty-fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading 1 Sir 27:30—28:7
Responsorial Psalm Ps 103:1-2, 3-4, 9-10, 11-12
Reading 2 Rom 14:7-9
Alleluia Jn 13:34
Gospel Mt 18:21-35
Homily for the Twenty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading 1 Ez 33:7-9
Responsorial Psalm Ps 95:1-2, 6-7, 8-9
Reading 2 Rom 13:8-10
Alleluia 2 Cor 5:19
Gospel Mt 18:15-20
Dominica XXII per Annum A
3 September 2023
I think it is important to keep in mind last week’s Gospel selection as we consider this week’s selection. The two selections belong together. They are sequential. What we just heard from St. Matthew’s Gospel follows immediately upon what we heard from St. Matthew last week. In last Sunday’s selection, the Lord asked his disciples to report who people think he is and then to report who they say he is. Speaking for the group, Peter had a triumphant moment by professing correct faith that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the living God. In this triumphant profession of correct doctrinal faith Jesus says that Peter is a rock. He is a large firm foundation upon which the Church will be built.
Following upon that correct profession of faith, in this weekend’s Gospel selection, the disciples – and we – learn still more. We learn that another key aspect of having a firm foundation is living the correct faith and observing what it means to be a disciple, to be a student, who cannot make up his own moral foundation and teaching, but who must follow behind the Master. This aspect of living the faith of a disciple goes hand-in-hand with the correct statement of doctrine, a correct faith. What we believe matters. And how we live matters. These two weekend Gospel selections give us a fuller picture of the type of rock-solid foundation we need. And what we learn this weekend about believing in Jesus and following him is that discipleship involves suffering. We must change after all; and that is rarely easy or pleasant.
So important is this connection between correct doctrinal faith and the living of it, that following up his moment of triumph in last weekend’s selection, Peter has a particularly cringe-worthy and embarrassing low point in today’s selection. The Lord instructs that he must go to Jerusalem where he will suffer greatly from the religious authorities and be killed. This was not the idea that Peter and the others had in mind for the fulfillment of God’s promises of a Christ, a Messiah. And so, Peter tries to reject the suffering that goes hand in hand with the Lord’s mission, and that goes hand-in-hand with being a disciple. Peter pulls the Lord aside and rebukes him. He pushes back on the teaching of suffering. He rejects it. He sort of wags his finger at Jesus and says, “Now, now, that wasn’t our expectation. You need to agree with what makes sense to us.” And Peter who had been given that name of “rock” just moments before now gets a new name: “Satan”. The Lord firmly rebukes Peter. And we need to hear that strong rebuke for what it is: “Get behind me, Satan! You are an obstacle to me.” A quick side note of interest: the Greek word for “obstacle” is a reference to a stone that causes one to stumble. So, when Peter understands his proper place behind Jesus, that is, following Jesus, he can serve as the large rock-solid foundation stone of the Church. But when Peter presumes to correct the Lord or to try to be the one who leads Jesus, he serves only to be a small stumbling stone. When Peter presumes to lead Jesus, he in fact ceases to be a disciple. The Gospel tells us that Peter and Jesus had been speaking to one another apart from the others. When the Lord prepares to deliver his rebuke, “Get behind me, Satan”, the Gospel says that Jesus turned, meaning that he was physically putting Peter in his proper place; he was putting Peter behind him, where a disciple can actually be a disciple because he is in the place to actually follow the Master.
What does this passage, together with last Sunday’s, do for us? Do we attempt the same failed method of discipleship that Peter attempted? Do we maybe say the right things about being a Christian disciple, meanwhile we reject living what that means? Do we sort of “rebuke” Jesus’ manner of showing us the way, the truth, and the life, by choosing our own way? Do we reject some aspects of what our life ought to look like, how our life ought to be lived, while claiming to be a Christian? Do we seek to take the lead away from Jesus and his Church by determining our own standards for living the faith? Would there be any evidence if we were charged with saying the right things about the Lord (professing the correct faith) yet not living the way a disciple should live? A significant area of life for our review, related to this passage is the following: Do I reject the difficulty that comes with converting, changing my life, and following behind the Lord? Do I make excuses for my sin? Are there things about being a disciple that I refuse to accept? What inconsistencies in my life must I “die” to, so that I am not facing off with the Lord trying to tell him how things ought to be?
Some specific examples may help our examination of conscience. Am I the type of disciple who is here to use and to take, but I rarely give? Do I think that being “busy” is a good excuse for laxity in prayer? Because prayer can be difficult, does that absolve me from the struggle of dying to self and being with the Lord? When I want to spend hours watching TV or surfing the internet, will I admit that I must die to those desires in order to make time to be with the Lord in prayer? Would people who know me well be surprised if my social media profile indicates that “God is my all” or that the “Bible is my favorite book,” or that “I’m catholic”? Do I justify my own morality in my use of the internet and what sites I visit? Do I observe purity with myself and in relationships? Am I working to acquire that virtue? Will I admit that a disciple who follows the Lord should not choose cohabitation? If married, am I married according to the sacrament in the Catholic Church? What in my marriage, or what in the way I treat my spouse, does not reflect the type of sacrifice that is part of being a disciple? Am I raising my children in the actual practice of the faith like I promised God on the day of their baptism? Or is the family at Mass only when it is convenient or when it is a sacramental preparation year, when we expect our child to “get” something from the Church? Do I support my child’s discovery of his vocation and do I encourage my child to consider the priesthood or religious life? Do I have all the time in the world to know song lyrics and movie lines by heart but I’m far less saturated in God’s life-giving Word in the Bible?
I could go on and one with examples that indict both you and me. The bottom line is this: What in my life is like Peter taking Jesus aside to rebuke him, telling him my terms for being a disciple? Even if I say the right things about Jesus, like Peter did last week, what in my living of the faith is not in accord with dying to self and suffering to follow the Master and the narrow way that leads to blessing and eternal life? This is the kind of self-reflection that needs to mark our lives. And not just once, but constantly. The Lord teaches us along with the apostles in the Gospel passage: “Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me.” And he goes on to say, we will be repaid according to our conduct. If we are trying to lead Jesus instead of follow him, then the repayment will not be pleasant. My friends, this is not a light matter and the self-examination that needs to mark us is most serious. Plenty of people can go astray, even if they don’t intend to, and even if we would consider them otherwise basically good people. There is a risk that a person’s discipleship could be more something on the lips (what they say) while what they do shows them to be trying to lead the Lord rather than follow the Lord. Just like the example of Peter, and whether it comes from among the ordained clergy, or the laity, or the consecrated religious, throughout the ages movements of disciples-in-name-only may call upon Jesus, “Lord, Lord!”, but they insist that Jesus be a different kind of Messiah, a different kind of Savior, one made in their own image and likeness. This has happened throughout history. In the first century, the Church was ravaged by a movement that rejected the divinity of Christ. Even many bishops promoted that false teaching. We are far less theologically sophisticated today, because now it is in vogue to make Jesus a Savior of inclusion and diversity who carries a pride flag instead of a cross. It’s this Gospel passage playing out in 2023. We can’t accept one part of discipleship (that is, the correct profession of faith) while rejecting the other (that is, living the right way). Well, you can. But you can’t do so while claiming to be a disciple of Jesus. And if we attempt that false discipleship then we’d better get ready for a rebuke and a new name: “Get behind me, Satan!”
Assumption of the BVM
15 August 2023
A formal part of Catholic faith is our belief that God has blessed Mary with certain privileges. These privileges bring salvation to Mary and they come purely from the generosity of the Holy Trinity. These privileges are an answer to the Original Sin of Adam and Eve, and so they are part of God’s plan to make it possible for mankind to have eternal salvation. All the privileges of Mary stem from her first or main privilege, namely that God chose her in a singular way to be the Mother of God the Son in the flesh. In the privilege of the Assumption that we celebrate today we express our Catholic faith that at the end of her earthly life Mary, having been preserved from sin from the first moment of her life and having chosen to use her freedom to live sinless her entire life, was rescued from the decay of the tomb and brought up body and soul into heavenly life. You can find this doctrine already believed and celebrated liturgically in the fifth century. Finally, being formally defined in 1950 by Pope Pius XII, this doctrine is thereby a dogma of the faith.
In her Assumption we have one of the reasons for which we call Mary “blessed”. In calling her blessed in her assumption, we join Elizabeth in the Gospel in proclaiming according to the inspiration of the Holy Spirit that Mary is blessed among all women and blessed because of the fruit of her womb. That fruit is our Savior, Jesus Christ, Mary’s Son and God in our flesh!
A simple idea to help us appreciate the dogma of the faith that we observe today is this: That the ark of the covenant, and what the ark contains, belong together. The contents of the ark of the Old Covenant were sacred: it contained God’s Word, the tablets of the Ten Commandments, it contained the rod of Aaron which had miraculously bloomed as a sign of priesthood, and it contained a vile of the mysterious manna from heaven. By containing such sacred objects of God’s presence and power, the People of Israel rightly saw the ark itself as holy and as a place of encounter with God precisely because of its relationship with the sacred contents it contained.
Likewise with Mary. She is called the New Ark of the Covenant. In fact, that image of the ark is invoked in the first reading from Revelation and moves immediately into a reference to Mary, the great sign of the pregnant woman clothed with the sun, with the moon under her feet, and on her head a crown of twelve starts. Mary as ark, contained the presence of God Himself as we heard in the Gospel passage. That presence of God in her womb caused St. John the Baptist in utero to leap for joy, as we also heard in the Gospel passage. Mary gave to God the Son his flesh, our human nature, so that he could save us, dying in our flesh and rising again to newness of life. Furthermore, he grew in her, he was contained in her womb, like the ark contained the sacred presences of the Old Covenant. But this time, the new ark contained not the Word of God on stone, but the Word of God in the new ark in flesh, Jesus the Christ. It contained not the rod of Aaron that bloomed as a sign of priesthood, but in the new ark the Eternal High Priest himself. It contained not a vile of that mysterious manna substance that was gathered from the desert floor by God’s People, but it contained the Bread of Life come down from heaven, the one whose flesh gives eternal life. This is the ark of the new covenant and what it contains for our salvation.
The ark and what it contains belong together. Consider a different application but related imagery. We wouldn’t put the Blessed Sacrament here on the altar but then have the tabernacle over there in the cry room. The two belong together. The tabernacle and what it contains belong together. It is proper that after the Lord’s ascension into heaven, the ark – Mary – be reunited with her Son and brought to his dwelling place and this happens by a special privilege given to Mary by God. This is what we believe in faith and what we celebrate in the Assumption. We express faith that, in view of what needed to be accomplished in God the Father’s plan for our salvation, Mary was first saved by grace beforehand. She was preserved from all sin in her conception and then, after a life of cooperation as the faithful and holy new ark of the covenant, that salvation that God gave her came to fruition such that, at the end of her earthly life, she was taken up body and soul into heaven. God would not allow decay and corruption to touch her, the New Ark. Since she had been saved from sin by a special grace, that means she was also saved from the consequences of sin, principal among those being death and the decay of the tomb. May all of this about Mary serve to inspire us as disciples today to cooperate, like she did, with God’s grace so as to follow where the Lord has opened for us the way to heaven; a way she herself, we proclaim in faith, has followed. Having been taken up body and soul into heaven we rightly say with the Psalm of this holy Mass: “The queen stands at your right hand, arrayed in gold!”
Homily for the Solemnity of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading 1 RV 11:19A; 12:1-6A, 10AB
Responsorial Psalm PS 45:10, 11, 12, 16
Reading 2 1 COR 15:20-27
Gospel LK 1:39-56
Dominica XIX per Annum A
13 August 2023
Today’s first reading and today’s Gospel selection give us examples of theophanies. ‘Theophany’ is a word that simply refers to a manifestation of God, an event by which God reveals Himself. In fact, theophany has been a bit of a theme lately since last weekend’s observance of the Transfiguration is also a good example of a theophany. In a theophany we have a manifestation of God’s presence and power in a sense perceptible manner. Theophanies in the Old Testament are accompanied by the typical sense perceptible manifestations of wind, earthquake, and fire (cf. Ex. 19:16-19). God revealing Himself to Moses on Mt. Sinai is a standard example of this, for when God comes to the mountaintop there is fire, there is wind that moves smoke up in a column, and the earth trembles.
Elijah in the first reading experienced a theophany when the Lord God decided to pass by him. Those typical signs accompanied the event in the crushing wind, the earthquake, and the fire. A unique contribution of this particular theophany is that the manifestation of God to Elijah is such that those typical signs of wind, fire, and earthquake are – in this instance – simply precursors to silence, the tiny whispering sound that mysteriously communicated the grandeur and the majesty of God.
The Gospel likewise presents us with a manifestation of God. Keeping in mind the context of the passage can help us see this theophany. After the miraculous feeding of the five thousand, the disciples are in a boat preceding the Lord across the Sea of Galilee. That sea was a familiar place to the apostles, a place they often fished. It is a large lake about 13 miles long and about 8 miles wide at its widest. The passage tells us that the disciples were already a few miles into their journey offshore. They were in a terrible storm. And it was the fourth watch of the night, meaning it was between 3 and 6 in the morning. This was a time on the water familiar to the disciples because it was a common time to go fishing. We obviously understand that it was very dark out on the water and the storm made it very dangerous.
It is in this context that Jesus comes walking on the water toward them. When the disciples are afraid and think they are seeing a ghost we get more evidence of this theophany, that Jesus is showing himself to be God. Jesus responds to the disciples, “Take courage, it is I.” That is a fine translation of the Greek text of St. Matthew’s account of this event. It is an acceptable translation to suggest that Jesus is identifying himself (“It is I”). However, we get more depth of understanding when we know that the Greek text can also accurately be translated as, “take heart, I am.” The “I am” or “It is I” gives us a rich connection to other theophanies and that revelation to Moses from the Burning Bush of the Name of God: I am Who am. In response to those who would dismiss this miracle as an optical illusion, as if Jesus was really walking on the shore or on a shallow sandbar, we can note Jesus’ use of “I am” to reveal himself precisely while walking on a stormy sea, in a place where his disciples are already several miles offshore, in a place where, when he doubts, Peter begins to sink down. Is that use of “I am” significant? You bet! If there is any doubt, please see that the Lord uses it to reveal himself while breaking the laws of nature as he walks on water. And the disciples truly get the theophany by the end because they say, “Truly, you are the Son of God.”
It doesn’t require much imagination to place ourselves into the lesson of this theophany of God showing Himself in the midst of a storm that tosses us about. It doesn’t take much imagination to come up with a whole host of examples of things in life that we might call storms. Our own character defects and weaknesses can be like storms. We may feel overwhelmed by the setbacks we experience in our humanity. Perhaps we face times of particularly strong temptation and it feels like we are drowning in sin. We know the areas of our life where we are less than the disciples that we should be. But we don’t always find the energy and the resolve to take a new step to breaking bad patterns and growing in virtue. A storm may come from a bad decision we make with consequences we can’t undo. Someone else’s sin may be a storm that impacts us or makes us a victim. Times of grave social evil overwhelm us like storms. Our storms may be worries we have for a friend or loved one. Storms may come from illness and loss, where we are rocked by suffering and death. We also can’t ignore that anytime we have a boat in Scripture we have a common image for the Church. Various times in history show the boat, the barque of St. Peter, that is the Church, tossed about by waves and storms both internal and external. History gives us ample evidence of leaders – from popes, bishops, and on down – whose immoral lives promote scandal and whose teaching fails to address the danger of heresy. At other times the boat of the Church seems to suffer not so much from active threats but from weakness and lack of courage, as if she is just drifting about with no one’s hand on the rudder. Our violent reaction to storms in life can reveal to us our tendency to believe a false idea that somehow life is supposed to be easy. We don’t have that promise, especially not in our fallen world. Recall that foundational, basic belief in Original Sin that tells us our world is fallen. If we integrate that belief we know that things will not be easy in this life. At times we uncritically adopt the notion that we’ll have a utopia in this life or that the march of history and progress means things are better simply because they are modern, and so our time must surely be the best. That’s pure insanity. Take a look around and see how everyone’s face is in a screen while they starve for real and meaningful human relationships that always elude them on that misnomered sphere of social media. Things are better simply because they are modern? That’s insanity. And maybe one of the most fearful lessons of this passage (I almost hesitate to mention it): sometimes the Lord may call us, like he did with Peter on the water, to come INTO the storm, to leave the comparative safety of the boat to come into the storm for some mysterious purpose only the Lord knows. Yes, there are hosts of storms in life from all manner of directions and sometimes too from the places we think least likely to be stormy. But at the same time, there is Jesus in the midst of them, and he’s there to reveal Himself. Therefore, we are called to avoid being people of doubt and little faith. We are called to avoid being people of distraction who are primarily known for focusing on the waves, while taking our eyes off the Lord. In the passage the disciples recognize Jesus as God because he is doing the things that God does in their Jewish Scriptures. He treads upon the waves of the sea (cf. Job 9:8; Hab. 3:15). He stills the storms (cf. Ps. 65:8; 89:10; 107:28-30). And he reaches out to save his people (cf. Ps. 18:17; 144:7). Yes, we do and we will face storms in life but the Lord Jesus is not a ghost for us either. He is very much real, very much God, very much the one we need to call out to at the same time as we ignore and quiet the raging windy “voices” of life’s storms!
Homily for the Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading 1 1 Kgs 19:9a, 11-13a
Responsorial Psalm Ps 85:9, 10, 11-12, 13-14
Reading 2 Rom 9:1-5
Alleluia Cf. Ps 130:5
Gospel Mt 14:22-33
Dominica XVI per Annum A
23 July 2023
Our life as Catholics is fit into a hierarchical communion, a community with different gifts and areas of service, yet sharing one and the same faith and journeying to our common home of heaven. We know that we do not call all the shots in the Church. In fact, we call very few of them when you consider that we have higher authorities over us.
Quite often we might struggle with life in the community of the Church. There are aspects of our religious life that are mysterious to us. Perhaps there are things we don’t comprehend and need to work in order to better appreciate. There are things in our common life in the Church that leave us unsettled and disappointed at times, even downright angry. We wonder about certain decisions that are made. Some of the authorities over us don’t always seem very inspiring. Maybe we wonder how and why they were even chosen to begin with. Some seem to be unimpressive simpletons. Some seem to have a thing with money, and you sort of wonder about that. And still others seem to muddle the truth. We may scratch our heads about the decisions of our chief leader. How could he have chosen “that guy” for a special office and role? Doesn’t he see how bad some of these choices are? What could he possibly be up to? What does our chief leader mean by some of the stuff he says? It’s like he just won’t speak clearly. Why doesn’t he do something to make things better, more like it should be?
The chief leader of which I speak is, of course… Jesus! Jesus is our chief leader. It is Jesus who is the Head of his Body the Church. It is Jesus who is the Shepherd and Bishop of our souls, as we read in 1 Peter 2:25. It is Jesus who is the leader and perfecter of our faith, as we read in Hebrews 12:2. It is Jesus who chose often unimpressive simple fisherman to be apostles. It is Jesus who chose at least one who was a tax collector and another who had his hand in the money bag, the one who eventually committed great evil in betraying him. It is Jesus who speaks in those mysterious parables, those teachings that are more than just images and stories, more than just comparisons, but rather stories with an unexpected twist. Riddles we could say. It is Jesus who speaks the parable today that forces us to contend with something unexpected and undesired: namely, that the kingdom is like a man who sowed good seed and in that field there is both wheat and weeds. And more unexpected and undesirable to us, those weeds are permitted to be there even though they are sown by an enemy. It is Jesus who employs this image by which the man who sowed good seed is not surprised that an enemy is also at work. And it is Jesus who uses this image by which the man is patient to wait until final harvest for final justice.
So, you know what that means, right? If Jesus isn’t surprised by the weeds, and if Jesus is patient to await final justice at the harvest, well then, we don’t really get to act surprised and exasperated about the weeds in the Church. We don’t get to exact immediate punishment and justice at all the crazy things we see in our time. The Lord spoke this parable centuries ago. It’s still an apt image today for life in the field of the Church. Wheat and weeds. And aren’t we just like the slaves of the householder in the parable? “Master, did you not sow good seed in your field? Where have the weeds come from?” And we go on just like the slaves, “Then we’ll go pull up the weeds, right?” Nope. The Master gives us not only the unexpected twist that there are weeds among the good seed, but also the further twist, “Let them grow together until the harvest.” When we see evil and sin in the Church; when we see weakness from our leaders; when absolute confusion seems to reign; when heresy and immorality seem to be given a privileged spot; when the good and courageous leaders always seem to pay the price; when it seems like all we hear is that we are supposed to listen to and walk with those who reject Christ’s teaching and who give no sign of willingness to convert… there is that fire of indignation that arises in us like the slaves in the parable and we want to say, “Lord, if you’re not going to pilot the boat, I will.” This parable just doesn’t let us have it that easy. And it is a perfect lesson for our time. If you are even casually aware of the state of affairs in the world and in the Church, the Gospel words of this parable are likely words we need to sit with and meditate upon for a good long time.
Now I realize that this parable and what I am saying is not a complete template for how to navigate the multiple frustrations, or any one problem in the life of the Church. By no means should anyone think that the lesson is that in the life of the Church there simply are no standards and we just turn a blind eye to error and sin and things contrary to the Gospel. Not at all. There are things that require courageous responses. There are situations that need to be addressed. There are wrongs that need to be rebuked. And that does happen. But also, it often doesn’t happen the way we would like. This parable doesn’t really give us a comprehensive answer for how to handle the weeds in our time. And the parable is not at all saying that the weeds will go without punishment and justice.
There are topics and issues in our common life that have to be addressed. That is true of every society of human beings. The Church is no different in those challenges. I’m not saying this parable tells us to ignore problems or to just dismiss them or to be naïve. But I also don’t know how we answer all the challenges we see and the ones still to come. What this parable can help us do is to focus on what we have authority to impact for the better, rather than focusing on someone else’s wrongs or what someone with higher authority needs to do. This parable can make us contend with being a bit more sober about life in the field of the Church. The parable can also help us marvel at the generous patience of the Lord. And somewhere in that riddle of the parable we might pause just long enough to realize: You know, I better look inward first because through my sins I can be like a weed at any given time. And had the Lord responded to the feverish calls to tear up the weeds at just the wrong time? I myself might well have been, or well may be, pulled up and burnt. And so, thanks be to God for the time for me to become good seed as a child of the kingdom! Prayer, and frequent confession, and conversion, and good relationships in the faith, and the life of sacramental grace turn me from a weed into wheat.
The Lord is unlikely, it seems, to be chosen for the HOA field of the month award. But his field will be the only one standing at harvest time and we have the time now to turn our focus and our energies more on becoming good wheat. The alternative may be that we so focus on everyone else’s weedy-ness that we miss our own.
Homily for the Sixteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading 1 Wis 12:13, 16-19
Responsorial Psalm Ps 86:5-6, 9-10, 15-16
Reading 2 Rom 8:26-27
Alleluia Cf. Mt 11:25
Gospel Mt 13:24-43
Homily for the Thirteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading 1 2 Kgs 4:8-11, 14-16a
Responsorial Psalm Ps 89:2-3, 16-17, 18-19
Reading 2 Rom 6:3-4, 8-11
Alleluia 1 Pt 2:9
Gospel Mt 10:37-42
Dominica IV Post Pentecosten (Mass of the 1962 Missal)
25 June 2023
IN THE NAME OF THE FATHER, AND OF THE SON, AND OF THE HOLY GHOST. AMEN.
I have had a number of priestly assignments over the years. And at times, other new tasks have been added to my main work as a parish priest. You would think that after 24 years of being a priest I might be less surprised about new assignments. But it seems the reaction is always the same in me. A calling to do something new, to take on some new mission can be very unsettling and causes much introspection. When I first hear the news of being given a new calling, a new mission for God’s Church and His people a common reaction takes place in me. Quite spontaneously, I usually first think of all the reasons why I’m not qualified and why it won’t work.
I don’t think that tendency is all that unique. When God calls, don’t we quite frequently and readily first think of the reasons why it is not a good idea, the reasons why it won’t work? That’s a human tendency that the Scriptures show us. You see that tendency time and time again in the calling of so many prophets. The calling of the Prophet Isaiah is such an example when he sees a vision of God’s Temple. Isaiah experiences a call to a mission, to his vocation. What is Isaiah’s first reaction? He thinks of the reasons the vocation and mission can’t work. “Woe is me, I am doomed! For I am a man of unclean lips, living among a people of unclean lips.” But God’s ministering angel comes with purifying fire, touches Isaiah’s mouth, and says “See, now… your wickedness is removed, your sin purged.” Being made clean and forgiven by God Isaiah can then answer, “Here I am, send me!” In other words, Isaiah’s unworthiness is a given. Of course, Isaiah is unworthy and sinful and incapable. The young prophet Jeremiah is also hesitant when God calls him. He first responds that he is too young to have a vocation from God and that his young age means he won’t know what to do and what to speak. God tells him not to think that way and reminds Jeremiah that He, God, will give him what he is to speak. Yes, the person called is incapable and unworthy. That’s not a newsflash! The Scriptural lesson is that the call is God’s call and He’s the One who equips the person He calls.
In the Gospel selection, Jesus calls Simon Peter as he begins to bring together his apostles. Imagine how embarrassing it would be to be an expert fisherman, as Peter was, with a fishing business, having just returned after a long night of catching nothing, to then have a carpenter get into your boat and give you fishing guidance: “Put out into deep water and lower your nets for a catch.” Simon Peter is actually qualified at fishing and he first notes his objection to put the nets in again, but with humility he is obedient. Of course, we know that the Lord is preparing Peter for a new vocation, a new mission. And in the face of a miraculous and large catch of fish, Simon Peter follows that human tendency to consider first how God’s call won’t work and how unworthy he is. Falling at the knees of Jesus, Simon said, “Depart from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man.” Jesus indicates that he will guarantee Simon Peter’s mission and vocation when he tells him, “Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching men.”
To fulfill the call to be holy we each are given a vocation which defines the larger arc of our life and which carries with it dignity, duties, and responsibilities. But God may also give us a particular work at various moments of life. We can call this a mission, some thing to accomplish that requires specific attention and effort but which may not define our whole life or be long term, like a vocation is. What godly vocation and mission is yours? What godly vocation and mission seems unlikely in your opinion? What is God asking of you that you might first object to, raising the reasons why you are not qualified? “God, I can’t be…” fill in the blank. “God, I can’t do…” fill in the blank. Like Simon Peter, what is God’s call to you to vocation and to mission that you think just can’t be? You see, a lesson today is that we think more of ourselves instead of God. And that’s a problem. That common tendency reveals the error. Do we really think the source of power for vocation and mission comes from ourselves? We first consider our skill, our strength, and our preparation. We need to first think of God and what He can do. What He can do even with you. Even with me. Of course, we certainly need to have a healthy awareness of our limitations and our unworthiness. Such awareness permits us to focus where we need to call out to God in prayer for what only He can provide. The Scripture lesson for us today is not a call to ignore our inabilities. Rather, the lesson is to think first and more about God’s abilities.
What might this say to us in various examples of callings? A child or a teenager might first fear to be a disciple among peers in school and in groups of friends. You fear being rejected or standing out for being an example of Christian faith. Trust that God will give strength in the lunchroom and in hallways or in your neighborhood. You need only cooperate. Someone dating might face the struggle to live that relationship in purity and chastity as is moral teaching. If someone is a follower of Jesus he or she has a mission to stand against the societal trend of inappropriate behavior or of living together before marriage, marriage which, for a catholic, needs to take place in the Catholic Church. Some young men may have a vocation to be future priests. They might tend to say, “That can’t be me. God couldn’t choose me with my sins.” Oh really? Peter seemed to think that too. Listen to the voice of the Master, “From now on you will be catching men.” Spouses have a vocation to sacrificial love, to be faithful to one another, and to be open to the gift of children. But it’s not easy. There are fears and legitimate challenges and exhaustion. Raising children takes so much. Spouses may want to doubt the call and think themselves incapable. But the dynamic of the Scriptures today speaks to you: “Do not be afraid.”
Think more of what God can do in you. Maybe the invitation of God is to be more generous or sacrificial in financial giving or in lending your own talents to some area of parish life or to some Christian work done out in the world. Is your first response fear that you won’t have enough? How can I give more from what little I have and with my debts? Put out into the deep and let God’s power and work bless your generosity.
What vocation and what mission might God be giving you? What is your first response? Is it, “I can’t”? Or is it, “God can”? God’s grace equipped Peter for vocation and mission. God’s grace filled what was lacking in him and transformed him for the task at hand. If God can call and equip so many figures in salvation history and so many saints over centuries, He does the same with the vocation and mission that He gives you. He says to us: Your wickedness is removed, your sin purged. He says: Don’t tell me you are too young. I’ll give you what you need. The Lord says to us: Put out into the deep. Do not be afraid. May our response be to follow the Lord in generosity, trusting him with all that we have and all that we are.
IN THE NAME OF THE FATHER, AND OF THE SON, AND OF THE HOLY GHOST. AMEN.
Sollemnitas Corpus Christi
Dt. 8:2-3, 14b-16a; 1 Cor. 10:16-17; Jn. 6:51-58
11 June 2023
Today is our annual observance of the Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of the Lord, also called by the Latin name “Corpus Christi.” Our faith in the Holy Eucharist is one of the most essential and defining doctrines we hold as Catholics. We believe, without equivocation or adopting the language of mere symbolism, that the Holy Eucharist is the living Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity of Christ. It is the Lord’s Real Presence, whole and complete, in both the form of bread and wine, and even in the smallest fragments of particle or droplet. It is the presence of the Lord given to us in sacramental form, by which we may be nourished by this gift when we receive it worthily in the state of grace. We believe that the bread and wine at Holy Mass are changed in their substance. They cease to be the substance of bread and wine, though the appearances remain unchanged, and become the substance of the Body and Blood of the Lord. We believe this change of substance takes place by God and His power. We believe this gift is made present to us only within the one true Church, established by the Lord and which responds to his command, “Do this in memory of me”, by using the words of consecration from the Last Supper and spoken by the ordained priest who shares in the one and same priesthood of the Eternal High Priest, Jesus Christ.
That’s the quick summary of our catholic faith in the Holy Eucharist. With that being said, I want to speak today about the Eucharistic Procession, which we will experience at the conclusion of the Holy Mass. A few of you have asked me, “What is this for? Why are we doing this?” That question tells me that I need to say “mea culpa, mea maxima culpa” because it’s an indication there has been some dereliction of duty on my part as Pastor. You see, while it is not obligatory, it is customary and desirable that a procession takes place on Corpus Christi at the end of Mass as a way of offering more public witness to our faith in the Holy Eucharist, and doing so precisely outside of these walls. We haven’t done this before on the Sunday observance of Corpus Christi (and honestly most parishes don’t do a procession) because, up until now, I have been unable to imagine how I would fit this extra thing into a tight Sunday Mass schedule. Like many a traditional thing in the past 50 or so years the outdoor procession has been dropped or almost entirely disappeared. Is our faith stronger for that? Is our Church better off for that? It sure doesn’t seem so. In fact, decades now of studies report that many a catholic does not know or does not properly express the truth of our Catholic faith in the Holy Eucharist. A Eucharistic Procession might aid the formation of our membership to have proper Catholic faith. And, in fact, one can schedule a procession just about any time of year. Perhaps we should do more of this throughout the year. Perhaps we’ll see a stronger Church in part because of this devotion. Perhaps we’ll see a world more converted too.
There are two ideas I’d like to highlight about the importance of a Eucharistic Procession. Since we literally move together outside of the church in a procession, one can’t help but grasp the notion that we disciples are on a larger mission. We are not disciples for ourselves only. We are not to view our life as Christians as simply like a club membership lived conveniently packaged inside these walls. Rather, we are on mission moving through this world as the Lord’s witnesses and we do so with his presence as our King. On a day of procession, as the border dissolves between our coming to Mass within these walls and our more public walking outside with the Lord’s Real Presence, we can’t help but wake up to the fact that our duty in the secular realm is to organize our world and our affairs in greater harmony with God’s Kingdom. We travel in a procession, as we journey through life, and we engage in the larger journey to the fullness of God’s Kingdom. As we go outside in procession it serves as a reminder of the call to proclaim the Gospel and to live for Christ outside of the church walls too, in the public square.
And the public square is quite a battle ground, isn’t it?! Have we become any better off these past many decades by ceding ground to secular forces and accommodating their claims by our silence that faith is purely personal and private and should be kept out of the public square? Such claims are false both from a Gospel perspective and even a constitutional perspective. The Lord says you are the salt of the earth and the light of the world (cf. Mt. 5:13-14). Employing those images, he goes on to say that a “city set on a hill cannot be hidden,” and that light must be allowed to “shine before men, that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven” (Mt. 5:14-16). And secularists and even some Christians say we should keep our faith private? Hogwash! Those would be totally bizarre images for the Lord to use if his idea for disciples – then and now – is that we keep our faith neatly packaged for observance inside these walls only.
Now I assure you that walking outside in June, in Oklahoma, IN VESTMENTS is not the most desirable thing for me. You might echo that sentiment being dressed up for Holy Mass. But consider just one value in this public witness, put into stark contrast by the nature of this feast falling in the month of June, as it typically does. Consider what June has become in the secular world and the displays that are common and becoming ubiquitous around the world. Those who observe secular June go out to march in celebration of disorder, in revelry like that surrounding the idol of the Golden Calf, and in narcissistic lust. We go out in a procession of order, and prayer, and adoration of God. In fact, by the Lord’s design and gift to us, we go out in procession with God Himself and not in idolatry. Yes, how needed is this devotional practice in our time. How much more should we organize such things and go on even longer processions, and in even more public areas!
The second idea I’d like to highlight about the importance of a Eucharistic Procession is that in this act of piety we celebrate that the Lord promised not to leave his Church, not to abandon us, or to leave us orphans (cf. Jn. 14:18). And he has not. He remains with us as he promised, by dwelling within us by the Holy Spirit sent from the Father and the Son. He remains with us by His divine power when we make room for Him in our commitment to prayer. He remains with us by the sacramental grace that resides in us. And He remains with us in the most august Sacrament of the Altar, the Holy Eucharist. He resides in all the tabernacles of the Catholic world. He is here waiting for us to visit him. Can you hear the invitation to commit to a time in our adoration chapel so that you bring life’s concerns and experience that, in fact, you are not an orphan? He is here with us such that we can carry him in procession as a clear experience that He has not left us orphans as we journey through this life, as we seek to be faithful witnesses before hostile forces in the world. Yes, a Eucharistic Procession teaches us these two important things: (1) As disciples we are called to go out on mission to transform our world; and, (2) we do not go out alone. God is with us. He has not left us orphans.
As a foreshadowing for us today, the first reading spoke to us of Moses’ instruction to the people, “Remember how… God, has directed all your journeying in the desert” (Dt. 8:2). With renewed faith, and new zeal, and new excitement for a New Evangelization of the world God loves, and which our Lord came to save, let us go out after worthy reception of Holy Communion to be salt and light and to carry today quite literally the Real Presence of the God of the universe who does not abandon us or leave us orphans!
Homily for the Sixth Sunday of Easter by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading 1 Acts 8:5-8, 14-17
Responsorial Psalm Ps 66:1-3, 4-5, 6-7, 16, 20
Reading 2 1 Pt 3:15-18
Alleluia Jn 14:23
Gospel Jn 14:15-21
Dominica III Post Pascha (Mass of the 1962 Missal)
30 April 2023
IN THE NAME OF THE FATHER, AND OF THE SON, AND OF THE HOLY GHOST. AMEN.
“Amen, amen, I say to you, that you shall lament and weep, but the world shall rejoice: and you shall be made sorrowful, but your sorrow shall be turned into joy” (From the Gospel of the Mass).
It is a particular providence that we hear these words today from our Blessed Lord in the Gospel because I need to speak today about the status of things regarding the Traditional Latin Mass at this parish. I guess that most of you likely already know this information, but I need to share with you that in accord with what Rome is requiring of our Archbishop, the previously granted dispensation to have the Mass of the 1962 Missal here at St. Monica will not be able to continue after the monthly Sunday Low Mass in June. That means we have today and then two more monthly Sunday Low Masses remaining here. The last monthly Sunday Low Mass will be on June 25. I want you to have this information now so that you can prepare.
I have much to say about this topic, much more than I can say in the course of the typical time frame of a sermon, so I will try to highlight only those things that I think are most important to share. I will certainly be happy to discuss the matter in more detail privately or in small groups should you have other questions. I encourage you to contact me if you have questions or to have greater clarity on the state of things here.
I find there can be quite a bit of erroneous information that goes around and quite a few assumptions that are not accurate when we have a charged topic like this one. So, I want to state first that no one should suffer under the false idea that our Archbishop hasn’t done enough or that he is trying to shut down the Mass of the 1962 Missal. Nothing could be further from the truth. I have had numerous meetings with him and ongoing communications over many months now. We have been trying together to find ways around what Rome is doing. We thought we had a solution with the dispensation he granted to this parish back in August 2021 to host the Traditional Latin Mass. But that has since changed with further actions from Rome in December 2021 and more recently in late February of this year. It is that most recent action from Rome that finally meant we were out of options since Rome is claiming that a diocesan bishop does not have the authority to grant such a dispensation, but that only Rome can do so. While Rome might, and has, granted some dispensations, they are always limited in scope and have an expiration date of at most two years. Thus, there is no long term solution even when Rome grants a dispensation. I can attest to you that from the beginning of this debacle Archbishop Coakley has been nothing but gracious and generous. His initial dispensation tells you what you need to know about his stance in all this. Only with Rome’s subsequent and ongoing local interference has the situation become what it is. In other words, and I want to state clearly, the blame for this falls squarely on the Pope and the Cardinal in charge of the Dicastery of Divine Worship. I have personally seen the Archbishop’s reactions over the course of these many months. I think I have a good read on him because I have known him since before he was a bishop and we have an excellent relationship. He has been frustrated by Rome’s actions. And when it became clear in early 2023 that Rome was doubling and tripling down on its aggression, I can tell you his look went from frustrated to grieved over what Rome is requiring. Neither of us is happy about what is going on. When this drama first began I thought it was really just me who would be faced with difficult questions of obedience. But I have come to understand in an entirely new way just what a difficult position the Archbishop, too, is in. Rome is demanding compliance and actually following up with expectations that the bishops report back to Rome with how they are implementing the demands. In fact, the only reason that we are still having this Mass here right now is because the Archbishop has agreed to basically ignore Rome’s demands while we tried to find solutions and hoped for a different outcome. If Rome had its way, I would have had to stop this Mass after this past December.
As I have said before, and I am not at all concerned about what anyone thinks of me, I believe the original document, Traditionis Custodes, that started all this ugliness to be unjust, despicable, a form of spiritual abuse from the Universal Pastor, and deserving of being ignored. I would not want to have to face God as Judge if I were responsible for that document. And I pray daily and sincerely for the Holy Father, and you should too. I am personally comfortable with ignoring Rome’s aggression and just going on with life here. But even I would admit that such a move would be challenging to sustain since Rome’s actions are so widely and publicly known. To just ignore Rome’s demands would result in endless questions and uncomfortable conversations when others would inevitably ask how it is that the Mass continues here. Would I lie and say we have permission? Would I seem to be promoting open defiance of the Holy Father? I think it is relevant to note in this dilemma that at least those who prefer the Mass of the 1962 Missal have local places to which they are already attached for full-service parish life. I know that won’t help my own parishioners or me, but it still would remain possible for people here to attend on whatever occasion a Mass of the 1962 Missal where it is still permitted. I am not saying that I am happy with this conclusion. It is deeply unsatisfactory to me. But it does seem relevant to note that what Rome is doing and what is now happening here does not mean that people have no option nearby for the 1962 Missal.
I realize that some among you might think I should do something different. Perhaps you might be inclined to fault me for not fighting on. I wouldn’t necessarily blame you for thinking so. However, I have come to a few considerations that I hope you can at least appreciate. Firstly, when it comes down to it, the only real personal relationship of obedience I have is to my Archbishop. I made a promise to him. Upon ordination a priest does not make such a promise to the pope. It is through my obedience to the bishop of the diocese that I have connection to the Universal Church and to the Pope. I cannot betray that obedience to my Archbishop and I would risk leading others astray were I to do so. While this situation is difficult for me, seeing the care and generosity of the archbishop over these many months makes my obedience in this regard now a little less bitter to take. I am not changing my opinion with regards to Rome’s actions, but I know that the Archbishop and I have tried numerous and creative things to avoid this. Secondly, the devil and the demons can only mimic good things. They can’t be truly good; they can only appear to be good by lying and by imitating what is good, even though what they actually do is to pervert that which is good. In fact, that is so much a part of demonic activity: it twists and perverts what is good and true. I suggest that obedience is one of the few things that the devil cannot emulate. He can’t even come close. No, his very existence is disobedience. While he might ultimately submit to Christ and have to obey, as in the case of being expelled in an exorcism, the fact is he can’t emulate obedience. He can only be forced – after much effort – to be obedient by being cast out. Again, while it is very distasteful for me to conclude this, I think it is true: I cannot risk putting myself in a camp with the evil one by means of disobedience. I need to take on obedience, even and especially when difficult, and to do so freely because it is one place the evil one surely cannot be. He cannot be obedient. Thirdly, in arriving at these conclusions, I am confident that the Lord is holding out much grace, albeit through suffering and the cross, that I do not see now or cannot see, but that I will be able to notice in time. I am confident the Lord’s grace will work on my many defects and wear down my pride for his purposes. I believe he will hold out the offer of this rich grace for you too, provided you likewise participate in what he is doing in the midst of this way of the cross. I believe there are many great battles ahead. Like other times in history, there is great upheaval in the world and in our beloved Church. The Lord needs living members of his Body, he needs saints, to face off with the world and to bring it Good News!
These are the most important reasons in my thought process to share with you for how I have concluded that I will have to give up, for now, offering the Mass of the 1962 Missal publicly at my parish. I can still say the Mass, and I will do so privately in my little prayer room on my day off. I can still say it where it is still permitted, like at a Fraternity parish. I can even say it at a non-parish church or some secret venue, as a hostile world may someday require. But I can’t say it here anymore after June, as ridiculous as that is. Part of the personal difficulty for me in this is that I feel as if I have failed you and failed the boys of the St. John Bosco Institute school. I don’t think that is literally true. But I feel as if I have. In the tortured ways of man’s psychology in a fallen nature, we adults each know well that many a time how you feel about something and what is actually true do not always match up. You know the second half of the Confiteor: “Ideo precor beatam Mariam” and other saints are mentioned, and then “et te Pater.” It has become a gut punch for me, and difficult to hear, when my altar boys pray the second half of the Confiteor because I feel as if I am a father who has failed them and you. That beseeching in the Confiteor has become a bit haunting to me: “et te Pater,” … “and you Father” I ask you to pray for me to the Lord our God. While it is now the Cross for you and for me, we have two more uninterrupted Sundays together. I promise I do and I will pray for you. Et vos fratres, orare pro me ad Dominum Deum nostrum!
IN THE NAME OF THE FATHER, AND OF THE SON, AND OF THE HOLY GHOST. AMEN.
Dominica III Paschae A
23 April 2023
The gospel is one of several instances where the grieving apostles and disciples do not immediately recognize the resurrected Jesus: “their eyes were prevented from recognizing him.” On the rare occasions when I am not in the priest’s collar I can attest that it is comical how people don’t recognize me. Without the normal garb I just blend into the crowd. Years ago, I was at the mall in civilian attire. In the distance I saw a couple parishioners walking toward me in the midst of the shoppers. While still a distance off, I did one of those head nod acknowledgments. The couple didn’t notice. That got me thinking of doing an experiment: How close can I get to them before they recognize me? So, we kept walking toward each other and walking closer and closer and we passed literally shoulder-to-shoulder. They never saw me. I was very excited to tell them about this but then I realized that I couldn’t because the experiment makes me look a little creepy! So, I never told them.
Now I am not claiming that those disciples on the road to Emmaus failed to recognize Jesus because of his attire. No, it is a much deeper matter than that. However, the inability to see Jesus even though he was walking with them and speaking to them raises lessons for us. What lessons can we draw from the gospel that will help open our eyes to Jesus’ presence, even though at first we might not recognize him or see him in the way that he is in our midst?
Firstly, Jesus let those disciples speak about what was on their minds and hearts. They told him all about the hopes they had in Jesus and how he was dead and now allegedly alive. Can we speak to God about our life, our hopes, our disappointments? That’s what a vibrant prayer life should be. Can we speak to others about Jesus? We need to be willing and able to do so. Can we give others we meet the room to speak and share about their lives? If not, we are short-circuiting our journey and theirs on the road of discipleship.
Secondly, do we give our hearts what they need to be on fire for Jesus? After the disciples on the road recognized Jesus they admitted that his Scripture interpretation had set their hearts burning within them. Do we turn to the sharp, two-edged sword of the Scripture, reading it and reflecting upon it in prayer, so that our hearts may be on fire? If our hearts aren’t on fire, set on fire by reliance upon the Scriptures, then we may be lacking the impulse needed for the next step in recognizing Jesus. If we aren’t burning for more, in other words, why would we ever bother looking deeper? You have to first be hungry to seek out good nourishment.
Thirdly, sharing life honestly with God and others and being enflamed by the Scriptures isn’t an end to itself, but should lead to recognizing Jesus more clearly in his highest presence among us: namely, in the Eucharistic “breaking of bread” which is his Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity. Jesus remains with us in his Real Presence, a presence given to those worthily prepared so that a deeper life with Jesus can take place. When Jesus broke bread with the two disciples “their eyes were opened and they recognized him.” We need to see in this passage an indication of the new way that the Lord planned to be with his Church and to remain with us. He is with us even though our eyes may not quite see him in the same way as when he walked the earth. This passage is a lesson that the Lord is training his disciples to look for him where the Church gathers at the sacred altar in the breaking of the bread. Preparing ourselves ready for Holy Mass, do we then seek to find the Lord in this privileged place where he decided to reveal himself, and to give himself to us? Do we seek to train our eyes on him by committing to prayer in our chapel before the Lord present in the monstrance for adoration? That’s a place we should go to improve our vision for like the downcast disciples on that road to Emmaus we often do not see the reality of what is around us and we may miss that the Lord is with us.
Fourthly, upon recognizing that Jesus was with them in the breaking of bread, what is the final lesson from the disciples on the road to Emmaus? It is this simple comment from the gospel: “So they set out at once and returned to Jerusalem where they found gathered together the eleven.” In other words, having encountered Jesus led those disciples to live life more fully with and in the Church. They had been fleeing Jerusalem and the apostles. They had been heading west, going in the opposite direction, from where the Church was gathered in those very early days after the Lord’s death, in fact on the very day of the Resurrection itself they were heading out of town, away from the community of believers. But now they return to the eleven remaining apostles and the other disciples. Encountering Jesus and having deeper communion with him is a must for a disciple. But take careful note of an important lesson: one cannot have a complete relationship with Jesus without also having a deeper relationship with his Body the Church. The Head and the Body, Jesus and the Church go together. Always. As those disciples on the march away from the Church learned, to be drawn into deeper life with Jesus requires deeper life with the Church. And so, they returned to where the apostles were presiding.
The gospel provides an itinerary for the spiritual life of each of us here. The Church proclaims that the Lord has truly been raised and has appeared to Simon Peter. Where we are blinded by our sin, distracted by the routine and demands of life, and spiritually immature, we have a pattern in the gospel that gives us direction and must always lead us here… because here Jesus is made known to us in the breaking of bread!
Homily for the Third Sunday of Easter by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading 1 Acts 2:14, 22-33
Responsorial Psalm Ps 16:1-2, 5, 7-8, 9-10, 11
Reading 2 1 Pt 1:17-21
Alleluia Cf. Lk 24:32
Gospel Lk 24:13-35
Homily for Holy Thursday - Evening Mass of the Lord’s Supper by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading I Ex 12:1-8, 11-14 Responsorial Psalm Ps 116:12-13, 15-16bc, 17-18. Reading II 1 Cor 11:23-26 Verse Before the Gospel Jn 13:34 Gospel Jn 13:1-15
Dominica IV in Quadragesima A
19 March 2023
Again, at this point late in Lent, the Gospel readings put particularly intense focus on basic themes of desire for God, purification, increasing faith, and illumination; themes that are relevant, especially for those in RCIA who are in their final preparation for the climactic moments of their reception of the sacraments at the Easter Vigil. Again, I want to encourage everyone to make it a point to commit to participating in the special ceremonies of Holy Thursday, Good Friday, and the Easter Vigil on Holy Saturday night. It is always moving for everyone who attends and it will be a great way to pray for the Elect, our brothers and sisters in our RCIA program.
Today’s Gospel passage of the man born blind comes from chapter 9 of St. John’s Gospel. To grasp a theme, however I also want to go back to John 8 and pass through both chapters to paint a picture. In this section of St. John, Jesus has arrived in Jerusalem for the 8-day long Festival of Tabernacles, also called Booths. It was an annual festival held in the autumn after the completion of the harvest season and marked by pilgrimage, people making a great migration to join together in prayer and celebration. The festival celebrated God’s fidelity in providing for His people in the present harvest and the historical remembrance of His providing for them in the wilderness after the exodus. Given that people were gathering in large numbers in limited space, they had to build tents or booths for lodging for the festival. Those booths also served to be an image and reminder of the desert wanderings of their ancestors. Jesus arrives in Jerusalem for this festival. It is a chaotic scene due to all the people crammed in for the observance. But it also becomes chaotic, in a different sense, because of the confrontations and hostility Jesus faces there about his identity.
Appearing throughout John 8 and into today’s selection from John 9 we see some prominent themes that are reminiscent of the Book of Genesis, the creation, the fall, and God’s plan for salvation. To make a quick pass through John 8, we find chaos and the disorder of hostility against Jesus in the holy city. Most especially is the chaos of hostility evident in the scribes and Pharisees who are opposing the Lord. This chaos reminds us of what preceded God’s creation in Genesis when the earth was formless and void (cf. Gen. 1:1-2). As His first act to bring order out of chaos, God said in Genesis, “Let there be light” (cf. Gen. 1:3), the first day of creation. The Lord Jesus reveals himself in John 8 to be the light of the world (cf. Jn. 8:12). In Genesis, after the Original Sin that deforms our human nature, leaving it fallen and inclined to sin, Adam and Eve, the first man and woman, stand alone among creation and they hide themselves from the sound of God’s arrival (cf. Gen. 3:7-8). In John 8, after no one is without sin to cast the first stone at the woman caught in adultery, it says that the woman was left alone standing before Jesus (cf. Jn. 8:9), which seems to replay the dilemma of the first man and woman in the Garden, with Jesus now as the New Adam. At the end of John 8 as the hostility and disorder becomes most intense, it says that Jesus hid himself and then left the Temple area. That can be viewed as the Lord recapitulating these significant moments of God’s creation, the harm done by man’s sin, and His – God’s – choosing to place Himself into this same history in order to redeem it.
With all these images and echoes of Genesis with chaos, the creation, the fall, and the consequences of sin, we come to John 9, today’s selection. Here we have the man born blind. In other words, there is no light for him. He is in darkness, and in darkness from the beginning. In other words, this is not one who formerly could see and then became blind, but he has been in darkness from the beginning. That’s a hint of Genesis. I’m not making a scientifically precise observation, so don’t get hung up on the beginning point of life – as we know now – being conception as opposed to birth. Simply acknowledge that to be blind from birth is a reference for this purpose that means the man has been in darkness from the beginning. This can reinforce the theme of what has happened to mankind since the Fall, since what is narrated to us in that book of the beginnings called Genesis. The man blind from birth serves as an image of mankind’s fallen nature that blinds us to God, to holiness, and to spiritual realities. Why is the man blind from birth? The prominent religious idea of the time is that it is due to someone’s sin, that it is punishment for sin. Again, sin brings disorder and chaos and lack of light, lack of vision. Just as Genesis tells us that God formed man from the dust of the earth after a mist had watered the ground and then man became a living being (cf. Gen. 2:6-7), what does Jesus do to heal the blind man and restore him? To maintain this theme of the interplay of creation and Genesis, the Lord makes clay of the earth using the moisture of his saliva and refashions the man’s sight and then tells him to wash in the pool.
In Lent, those in RCIA preparing for baptism are being made ready to enter more deeply into the order of God, being refashioned – recreated – by being washed and having the blindness of sin removed so that they see and are enlightened. Those of us already baptized have been washed; yet, we know our dullness, our laziness, our slowness of heart to believe – to see! And with this torpor in mind we have to keep battling against our fallen nature and experience ongoing conversion and re-formation, a re-creation by God’s generous grace. Lent is a time for us, the baptized, also. It is a time to confront the ungodly chaos in our lives, which is sin. It is a time to acknowledge our blindness, and to be washed in confession, which restores us to baptismal grace. Our focus in this rich selection of God’s Word is not so much physical sight, but the connotation of sight that refers to faith and to belief. Our sight is healed, purified, and made whole when we see the world as it truly is, when we see ourselves as we truly are, that is… when we see our need for God, when we admit the defect – the blindness – of our sin and seek to be healed so that we can truly see and live. Like the man born blind, upon being healed in both physical and spiritual sight, may we say with him, “I do believe, Lord,” and, may we do as he did, “and he worshiped him” (Jn. 9:38).
Homily for the Fourth Sunday of Lent by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading 1 1 Sm 16:1b, 6-7, 10-13a
Responsorial Psalm Ps 23: 1-3a, 3b-4, 5, 6
Reading 2 Eph 5:8-14
Verse Before the Gospel Jn 8:12
Gospel Jn 9:1-41
Homily for the Third Sunday of Lent by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading I Ex 17:3-7
Responsorial Psalm 95:1-2, 6-7, 8-9
Reading II Rom 5:1-2, 5-8
Verse Before the Gospel Cf. Jn 4:42, 15
Gospel Jn 4:5-42
Dominica III in Quadragesima A
12 March 2023
Lent is a time for disciples to be renewed in the new life that was begun in us at baptism and to strive to deepen that life and commitment to the Lord. Lent is also the time of final preparation for those who will be baptized at the Easter Vigil or, if already baptized, received in to the Church. We have reached the point of Lent where some very long Gospel selections place a particular focus on the new life won for us by the Lord and the effects of that life in the baptized.
God’s People Israel were His chosen people. They were a holy people and a consecrated nation whose vocation was to advance in the world as a sign to other peoples of what is means to belong to God. But being chosen did not mean that the Israelites had it easy. Great hardship came their way. Hundreds of years of slavery in Egypt. The harsh passage through the desert in the Exodus. Exile, captivity, and dispersion among other races and nations are just a few highlights we know from the Scriptures. The opening lines in today’s first reading tell us the difficulties and setbacks and challenges of belonging to God as a unique people, which difficulties caused the Israelites to harden their hearts against God. In the desert their physical thirst was not satisfied and, in another sense, that “thirst” that was their desire for fulfillment was also not satisfied. In their weakness the people sought to fulfill themselves in ways that ultimately never fulfill, by positioning themselves against God in grumbling and doubt. God heard their cries and provided water from the rock. The place of their doubt and quarreling (Massah and Meribah) about whether God was in their midst became a symbol to the people that they should not let hardship cause them to seek to satiate their thirst apart from God.
Our thirst and God’s thirst for us is central to the Gospel of the Samaritan woman at the well. We have natural thirst that needs to be quenched. But “thirst” is also a symbol of desire for better life, desire for fulfillment, hopes and aspirations. It is clear in the passage that these different senses of “thirst” are in play in the Gospel because it becomes clear that the woman and Jesus are speaking of different kinds of water. She speaks of literal water from the well; Jesus speaks of living water that wells up to eternal life.
In this meeting place of the woman’s thirst for water and Jesus’ thirst for souls, his love for souls, we find a hidden message. God sees and knows our struggles and hardships (like the people in the desert) and so, he weds Himself to us to bring us relief, fulfillment, and new life. A major part of why I am captivated by this passage is because of the hidden nuptial imagery in it. In the Scriptures to have a man and a woman meeting at a well has implications of betrothal and marriage further down the line. Jesus meets the Samaritan woman at a well, and not just any generic well, but Jacob’s well. The Jewish mind would know of wells in the Old Testament that were important meeting points. Abraham’s servant meets Isaac’s future bride Rebecca at a well (cf. Gn. 24:10-53). Moses meets Zipporah at a well before they marry (cf. Ex. 2:15-21). Most especially for this Gospel, Jacob meets his beloved Rachel at a well, in fact the same well as the Gospel (cf. Gen. 29:1-14). They marry and become the patriarch and matriarch of Israel.
Now, certainly the nuptial imagery of Jesus at the well is not to be understood in the sense of a literal future wedding, for we know that Jesus was celibate. But the nuptial relationship and imagery remains. Jesus is the Bridegroom of his Church, the Scriptures tell us. Isaiah had prophesied to Israel that your maker will be your husband (cf. Is. 54:5) and your builder shall marry you (cf. Is. 62:5). And Isaiah prophesied that Israel would be called no longer desolate but “espoused” (cf. Is. 62:4). To see the Lord at Jacob’s well with the Samaritan woman sets the scene for us to understand that the Lord has a great love for his people – his scattered people – imaged in this woman from Samaria, and that he loves them and desires them more than they – more than we – even know. Like the Samaritan woman we can seek to satisfy our lesser thirsts while being unaware of the One in our midst who offers us living water. If only we would ask!
And there is the key for us! Hardships and struggles and setbacks and sufferings plague us too. In both direct and indirect ways we can grumble and complain against God. In fact, I’m not even so much concerned about the direct doubts and grumblings against God. At least a person who does so is honest and acknowledges the doubt stirring inside. But the indirect and tacit doubt and grumbling ignores our deeper thirst and seeks to satisfy it in so many ways that will never last. Don’t dismiss the possibility that we are like the people in the desert who doubt if God is with us. No, ours may not be a direct statement of doubt. But do you foster a meaningful and daily prayer life? If not, that’s a silent Meribah and Massah. But the Lord is already at the well waiting for you. Do you seek to satisfy your longings, your thirst by your own means and in ways apart from God that will never satisfy? That’s tacit grumbling. And the Lord already knows your sins and calls you to repent, just like he knew the life of the Samaritan woman, leading her to repent and say “Come see a man who told me everything I have done.”
Over the course of her conversation with Jesus the Samaritan woman was illuminated to recognize Jesus and to come to faith in him. We thirst for God. We must be careful not to let hardship and struggle drive us to seek to satisfy our thirst in grumblings and doubt. For they will never satisfy. Rather, in prayer we arrive at the well and find the one who thirsts for us first. As the water came from the rock in the desert, so we learn from St. Paul that Jesus is the Rock (cf. 1 Cor. 10:4). He is struck on the Cross from which he cries: “I thirst.” Give him a drink of your faith and seek from him the living water welling up to eternal life!
Dominica II in Quadragesima A
5 March 2023
The first Sunday of Lent we began with a typical focus on the Devil’s temptation of Jesus in the desert, together with the Old Testament reading from Genesis of the fall of Adam and Eve by sin. The second Sunday of Lent places our focus on the Transfiguration of the Lord on the mountain. But we miss the very beginning snippet of today’s Gospel passage in Matthew chapter 17. That missing introductory snippet reads: “And after six days, Jesus took Peter, James, and John…” and on with the rest of today’s selection. I am choosing to alert you to that simple missing phrase, “and after six days”, because it sets the stage for understanding the Transfiguration as a parallel and fulfillment of an event in the Old Testament.
What is the point in highlighting the timing of “after six days”? That timing gives us a connection, a parallel to the Old Testament accounts of Moses on Mt. Sinai. With this in mind we can see a number of parallels between Moses on Mt. Sinai and Jesus on the mountain of the transfiguration. In fact, I think it is worth hearing directly from the Old Testament to appreciate some similarities. The Book of Exodus, chapter 24, verse 16b-18, says: “and on the seventh day [the Lord] called to Moses out of the midst of the cloud. Now the appearance of the glory of the Lord was like a devouring fire on the top of the mountain in the sight of the people of Israel. And Moses entered the cloud, and went up on the mountain. And Moses was on the mountain forty days and forty nights.”
Notice some parallels here: “After six days,” puts you at the seventh day. On the seventh day Moses went up to be with the Lord God. After six days, Jesus goes up the mountain where His presence as God is revealed. The cloud on Mt. Sinai revealed the glory of the Lord. In the Gospel we have the transfiguration of the Lord by which his glory was shone, his face shining like the sun, and his clothing becoming white as light. In the Old Testament a cloud is a symbol of the presence of the glory of God and comes to be an image of the Holy Spirit. In the Gospel we have a “bright cloud” from which the Father’s voice is heard. When you put it all together, we have a key revelation of the Blessed Trinity in this event of the Transfiguration. The Father, the Incarnate Son, and the Holy Spirit are all present here along with the Old Testament figures of Moses and Elijah.
Appreciating this parallel helps us see that Jesus is the new Moses. He fulfills the mission of Moses and he is greater than Moses. And that, in turn, communicates to us some significant meaning about what the Lord is coming to do and what he means for us.
With our Blessed Lord as the new Moses, and aware of the significance of Moses in salvation history, we can ask: What then is the exodus through which Jesus is leading us? Our Lenten Sunday Masses are highlighting some aspects of this journey. Last weekend we confronted temptation and sin and we saw its effects and destruction in the lives of Adam and Eve, our first parents. They – and through them the human nature we inherit – were disfigured by sin. Their eyes were opened and the impact of sin was seen in their relationship with one another and with God. They began to fail to trust one another such that they began hiding themselves from one another and hiding themselves from God. We inherit that disfigurement through Original Sin and we further harm our own nature, our very selves and our hope for eternal life, by our personal sins. By listening to the “voice” of temptation we fall further under the dominance of the evil one and we harm our likeness to God, which is our fundamental dignity. That’s the bad news. It’s important to have that fundamental understanding of the reality of things. The bad news explains much about ourselves and our world. That’s perhaps why we face that sober truth so early in Lent as we did last Sunday. But this weekend our Lenten journey places before us a new hope. Just as God’s people were led out of slavery in Egypt by Moses, the new Moses – Jesus – is shown in the Gospel, and the exodus he leads us through is not liberation from a geographical place like Egypt, but liberation from the moral slavery to sin and the “place” of damnation. The Transfiguration of God in our human flesh, affords us the Good News and the hope of our human nature being transformed where it has been disfigured by sin. Our Lord has accomplished salvation for us. Lent is our annual opportunity to be renewed in that pattern and to live more deeply the redemption the Lord won for us. But there is an important key to keep in mind: We are never permitted to dismiss suffering and the Cross as part of this journey our Lord made as the New Moses. We are never permitted to dismiss suffering and the cross as part of our own journey in following the Lord on our exodus to newness of life. In the Gospel selection, the Lord required that they come down the mountain and continue on to Jerusalem, the place of his exodus from this life. The Lord instructed Peter, James, and John, not to share the vision until after he had been raised from the dead. In other words, the Lord accepts his suffering and death. Just so, we cannot avoid the valleys of this life. We cannot avoid suffering and our own crosses. We cannot avoid going to our own Jerusalems for our own exodus. Our sins are real and do real harm. The Lord saves us from the eternal consequences of sin. Yet, the disfiguring reality of sin requires our own transfiguration through struggle and sacrifice and much grace from God. In all this we seek to cooperate with the Lord and his mission and to willingly go where he is leading. In Lent we are called to leave our places of comfort, the places where we have set up our “tents”, to use an image from the Gospel. We are called to go where we do not always want to go. We take up penances and mortifications so that we are transformed by participating in the Cross. We come here, where we seek to be worthily prepared, so that we can be nourished by the very sacrifice of the Lord on the Cross and so grow in his glory and know ourselves to be sons and daughters of our heavenly Father.
Dominica I in Quadragesima (Mass of the 1962 Missal)
26 February 2023
IN THE NAME OF THE FATHER, AND OF THE SON, AND OF THE HOLY GHOST. AMEN.
The Gospel of the first Sunday of the Season of Lent places before us Our Blessed Lord’s journey into the desert from the account of St. Matthew. Soon after his baptism, whereby his identity as the Beloved Son is revealed, our Lord goes out into the wilderness of the desert to prepare for his saving mission. The trip to the desert is not an insignificant detail and it is not a random journey. Rather, it is the Spirit that leads our Lord into the desert to take on the Devil.
Perhaps it strikes us as curious that the very Spirit of God, the Third Person of the Blessed Trinity, would lead the Son into the terrain of the prince of this world. But it is for a holy purpose. That purpose can give us focus for what Lent should be for us.
Our Lord’s appearance in the desert can serve to call to mind the desert wanderings of the Exodus. God was doing something important and salvific in the life and history of Israel and he was doing so in the unforgiving wilderness. Is this not the challenge for every life of faith? We become focused on the desert, where there is dryness and difficulty and suffering in our life and we become so nearsighted in our misery that we can no longer see the overarching narrative, that God is acting and doing something to bring about His purposes. As was the case in the Exodus and so many other instances of the number forty in the Scriptures, so here with our Lord’s forty days and nights in the desert, we have a time of testing of faith and a time of purification to lead to greater strength in battle. Likewise for us, our symbolic forty days of Lent is a time of testing and a time of purification. The goal is that our faith become stronger as we become more and more purified from sin.
Our Lord has a full human nature united to his full divine nature. After forty days and forty nights of fasting, he would have been very hungry and very weak. Think of how unprepared we can be when it comes to fasting for just one day on Ash Wednesday! The battle our Lord faced was inconceivable to our paltry penances. In that immense weakness the Devil, the opportunist that he is, came to tempt the Lord. And the three temptations presented by the Devil mark the classic temptations that theologians have noted as part of man’s fallen nature. That classic formulation of temptation is that man’s downfall is the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life. St. John the Apostle and Evangelist shows just how ancient this formulation is when he warns not to love the things of the world and writes in his First Letter, chapter 2, verse 16: “For all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh and the lust of the eyes and the pride of life, is not of the Father but is of the world.”
The Devil’s first temptation refers to the lust of the flesh, that is, to the desires of the flesh, of the body, to pleasures of whatever kind. Our Lord is hungry and the temptation is to fill his belly and to give himself the pleasure and satisfaction of eating, to respond to the desire of the flesh for food by turning stones into bread. Keeping with St. John and the ordering sequence of the classic formulation of the threefold temptation, we’ll jump to the third temptation from the Devil in the Gospel selection today. The lust of the eyes is the desire to possess and to take by whatever means necessary. In the third temptation the Devil shows our Lord all the kingdoms of the world and their glory. The Devil has a certain dominion over this world. But the Lord has come to save the world, to pull it from the Devil’s grasp and to claim its proper ownership by God. By offering the Lord all the kingdoms of the world, the Devil is tempting the Lord to gain possession of the souls he has come to save, but to do so – and here is the critical difference – to do so without suffering and without the Cross, but by worshipping the Devil himself. And finally, the pride of life takes us back to the second temptation listed by St. Matthew in the Gospel selection. Here the Devil tempts the Lord to show Himself for who He is as God and to do so in a very public way from the height of the Temple. The Devil suggests that the Lord throw himself down to demonstrate his identity by means of the angels who would come to prevent his fall.
The Church places this episode before us at the start of Lent to show us that the Lord is recapitulating – and doing so successfully – the temptations of Adam and Eve and the temptations of Israel in the desert of the Exodus. Where Adam’s sin turned paradise into exile and left him outside paradise in the desert, our Lord willingly goes into the desert to be faithful in resisting the classic threefold temptation. Our Lord is faithful Israel. Our Lord is the new Adam. In all this he shows us that God Himself in His immense love for us comes to experience our weakness and to be victorious, and to do so in our very flesh.
In this holy season we are to battle that classic threefold concupiscence inherited from Adam: the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life. But our battle cannot be half-hearted and weak. We need some manly courage to be serious about discipline. This is precisely what we are not good about as modern Americans. So many of us, I fear, do not move beyond a childish Lent where we give up chocolate or some luxury. It’s fine to give up those things. But I highly doubt anyone’s salvation will rest on giving up chocolate, or pizza, or soda. Yes, give up things like that, but also do something serious, something really challenging. Take up one practice of prayer and one practice of mortification. For prayer: If you don’t already pray a daily Rosary, then do it. Pray with the Scriptures. After all, “man does not live on bread alone but on every word that comes forth from the mouth of God.” Or perhaps committing to come more often to adoration and even to committing to take an hour in our chapel each week would be a good new step in uniting yourself to our victorious Lord. And for mortification: why not do more than the bare minimum? I sometimes wonder about our modern regulations for Lent. Do we really fast? I mean, our modern rules for fasting are basically so easy that frankly it is not much of a challenge for most people. So, how about willingly taking on more than the bare minimum? It’s not required, I know, but perhaps fast on all Fridays of Lent, at least for most of the day up until the fish fry and then even there take only a modest amount. I am sure these practices will increase the likelihood of a fruitful Lent where we can participate in the Lord’s victory and find renewal in the invitation to grow in daily prayer and the life of grace with the Lord. As we heard in the epistle from St. Paul, “we exhort you that you receive not the grace of God in vain…. Behold now is the acceptable time, behold is the day of salvation.”
IN THE NAME OF THE FATHER, AND OF THE SON, AND OF THE HOLY GHOST. AMEN.
Reflections on The Crib, The Cross, and Holy Communion by Sr. Mary Michael Fox, OP.
The talk, given at St. Monica Catholic Church on Feb. 26, 2023 is based on a commentary by Fr. Paul Murray, OP on a hymn composed by St. Thomas Aquinas for the Mass on the feast of Corpus Christy. The attached handout was given to all participants during the presentation and may be useful for those listening at home as well.
Click to download PDF
Click to download PDF version
Homily for Ash Wednesday by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading 1 Jl 2:12-18
Responsorial Psalm Ps 51:3-4, 5-6ab, 12-13, 14 and 17
Reading 2 2 Cor 5:20—6:2
Verse Before the Gospel See Ps 95:8
Gospel Mt 6:1-6, 16-18
Ash Wednesday
22 February 2023
Today we have begun the holy season of renewal known as Lent. This season is a time of spiritual exercises, engagement in serious spiritual battle, by repentance, acts of penance, and the mercy of confession to be restored in the dignity begun in us at baptism. At least that is what we should be doing in this holy opportunity of the season of Lent!
There are two basic realities as we begin Lent that should cause us to reflect and to evaluate the direction of our lives. (1) God is rich in mercy and loves us and He does not desire the sinner to die. And, (2) we are wretched sinners who, in justice, deserve death and punishment for our sins, even eternal punishment. I bet we don’t think of that nearly often enough. Or maybe I should say that it would be likely that the modern American mindset would not bring the reality of our wickedness to mind with anything more than a rather generic evaluation that goes like this: “I’m a sinner, but I’m not the worst sinner there is.”
The comparison to some other worse sin or worse sinner completely under cuts the drive that ought to characterize our Christian striving. That type of thought reveals a rather soft, even limp, sense of the high degree of our calling and the horror that sin is in the eyes of God. No wonder that we can often settle for a comfortable discipleship, one that, when it comes down to it, is rather easily accomplished without much effort. This poor excuse for Christian vitality becomes all the more stark when we consider the length the modern American goes for other pursuits. Would anyone call himself a fan of a team if he only showed up to the team events a couple times a year? The modern American would sniff out that lie immediately. But somehow being an active part of Christ’s Body the Church only every so often doesn’t strike some modern minds as being less than fully Catholic. Would anyone who doesn’t train for a sport with serious dedication expect to be a starter on the team? Absolutely not. In fact, you’d probably be kicked off the team. But somehow a soft discipleship that doesn’t really develop prayer, confess sin frequently, or follow Church teaching seems to be enough to get into Heaven in some minds. Have you noticed how every modern American funeral assumes the deceased person is in Heaven, and theologically worse, assumes the person is now an angel who “got her wings”? I have never once been to a funeral where I heard it said, “Well, we should pray because he’s probably in a worse place now.” Now, I’m not saying we should assume Hell. Don’t get me wrong. But, assume Heaven? How often might we hear excuses that seem to absolve a person from serious effort at growing in holiness and battling sin? “Well, it would be really hard to give that thing up”, or “it would be big inconvenience”. Really? Harder or more inconvenient than damnation? The modern American mindset can risk dismissing the things of the soul in a way it would never do with things of the body. We can tend to grow lax and slack in what should be a striving that seeks to pass through the eye of a needle (cf. Mt. 19:24). Thus, do we need a Lent to wake us up. To shock the system. To get us into spiritual shape. And hopefully, being renewed in Lent, we eventually become less likely to fall to the trend of a soft discipleship the rest of the year.
Our Catholic faith and teaching has a remarkable ability to hold together both the truth of God’s immense love for us and the truth that we are sinners who need to take seriously the call to repent and to convert in order to be fully alive here and to have eternal life in Heaven. When we speak clearly and admit that we are sinners deserving punishment, we are not downplaying God’s love and saving desire for everyone He has made. When we speak clearly and admit that God has made us for Himself and He offers mercy to all, we are not obscuring the fact that our sin is real, it does real harm, and it is deserving of punishment. Both are true and we hold up both at one and the same time. Lent is a time to uncover the unintentional, weak attitudes that sometimes lull us into being miserably out of spiritual shape and discipline. God loves us. And we are sinners. We do not presume God’s mercy by treating sin lightly. We also do not despair of salvation by thinking God unable to save us by His rich grace. We begin today, the collect said, a “campaign of Christian service” by taking up “battle against spiritual evils” “armed with weapons of self-restraint.” By faith and baptism we are drafted into this campaign and we should be ready to wage war. May the Lord bless our efforts and may His holy angels protect us in this season of battling the forces that pull us away from His generous love.
Dominica VII per Annum A
19 February 2023
Before we go through the process for the Annual Catholic Appeal, and with the historic moment of the consecration of the Shrine of Bl. Stanley Rother fresh on our minds, I want to say a few words about the pattern of the consecration of a Church (a temple being another word) compared to the pattern of how we enter and progress in life as Christians (that is temples of God; dwellings of the Holy Spirit). I want to reflect on this because of the providential words in the second reading: “Brothers and sisters: Do you not know that you are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwells in you? If anyone destroys God’s temple, God will destroy that person; for the temple of God, which you are, is holy” (1 Cor. 3:16-17).
The evocative ceremony of dedication of a new church speaks to us powerfully. Before the dedication starts we already have a beautiful building, but it is only a building. The most stark sign of this is that the sanctuary with the altar is not decorated as normal, much like Good Friday when the altar is stripped to recall the Lord’s death. The altar stands in the center of an undedicated church as an empty table. But once consecrated, the altar and sanctuary are vested as the place of encounter with God, where the Lord Jesus comes in his resurrected Body and Blood in the Holy Eucharist.
What did we witness with the consecration of the Shrine on Friday (whether live in person or watching on TV or livestream)? I want to highlight some of the major moments in the ceremony of the consecration of a new church and connect them to how we become temples of God as we heard in the second reading. (1) The minister with authority (in this case a bishop) claims the property for Christ and his Kingdom and it is handed over to him by those who built it. Until our baptism we are under the dominion of Satan for he is permitted power in this world. We are subjects of the kingdom of darkness. But then a minister with authority claims us for Christ and his Kingdom when we are handed over to him by those – usually parents – who helped make us. (2) At the consecration, the bishop blesses water and sprinkles the entire building with it to drive out Satan and to bless the structure. At our baptism water is blessed and we are washed clean to drive out Satan and to wash us clean of sin. (3) Another major moment of a consecration is that the altar and the walls of the new church are anointed with perfumed sacred chrism to set them aside for the honor and glory of God. Likewise, we become Christians – the literal meaning is “anointed ones” – by also sharing in an anointing with sacred chrism at baptism and confirmation, so that we should understand ourselves and conduct ourselves as set aside for God. (4) Next, there is the incensation of the altar and the entire church. So often in our living of the faith and gathering for Holy Mass, at least at the principal Masses with more pageantry, we are incensed along with the altar and the gifts for offering. Incense is always a sign of the presence of divinity (that’s what is understood by the Three Kings bringing incense to the Baby Jesus). Being made temples of God, His presence dwells in us. And the incense reminds us that our prayers, our speech, our aspirations, our hearts rise up to God just as the smoke rises in the air before us. (5) Next, the altar is vested and the candles we are so accustomed to seeing are finally lit and things look as we expect them to be in a church. When we are claimed for Christ and become temples of God and the dwelling of the Holy Spirit at baptism, we are given a lit candle for we have received the light of faith and we are to make our world less dark by letting faith shine in our actions. We should vest – we should dress up – for our encounter with God in this temple for we are called to put on the vesture of God’s kingdom. (6) Finally, all of this is done to set the new church aside as the place where God comes in His Real Presence in the Holy Eucharist on the altar. Once we are claimed for God we are called to be united to Him. We are to guard this temple, to let nothing destroy it, especially to recognize sin as the destructive force it is, so that we live in a way that we are ready and able to receive the Lord in Holy Communion for nourishment in this life and ready and able to greet him when he comes again in glory.
Brothers and sisters: You are the temple of God and the Spirit of God dwells in you! The ritual of the consecration of a new church is never just about the building alone; rather, it is a reminder of the living building that we are called to be. A new church receives consecration passively and remains an inanimate object. That cannot be our consecration. We receive consecration, but we must do so actively and to live daily in a way that shows us to be living stones who make other disciples to add to the cornerstone of Christ. In this way, we are made perfect as our Heavenly Father is perfect (cf. Mt. 5:48).
Homily for the Seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading 1 Lv 19:1-2, 17-18
Responsorial Psalm Ps 103:1-2, 3-4, 8, 10, 12-13
Reading 2 1 Cor 3:16-23
Alleluia 1 Jn 2:5
Gospel Mt 5:38-48
Dominica V per Annum A
5 February 2023
Last Sunday’s Gospel proclaimed to us our Blessed Lord’s teaching of the Beatitudes. In what can be considered a New Covenant parallel to Moses’ journey up Mt. Sinai to receive the Law in the Commandments of the Old Covenant, our Lord goes up the mountain and he gives the Beatitudes. In Scripture a mountain is a place of God’s revelation and it is a place of divine encounter with mankind. As we heard last week, adopting the posture of a rabbi, our Lord sat down and taught and his disciples gathered around him. Thus, the setting of the Beatitudes and the Lord’s posture show us a revelation that gives inner vitality to our living of the Commandments, which have not changed and have not been replaced. His posture also shows us a teaching with authority that is meant to guide our lives.
Today’s passage comes immediately after the Lord delivers the Beatitudes. In the brief passage today, the Lord uses three images that tell us of our mission as disciples in relationship to the world. The Lord references salt, light, and being a city set on a mountain. All three of these images that Jesus uses for his Church are continuations of images associated with the identity and calling of God’s People Israel.
Jesus says of his Church and his disciples, “You are the salt of the earth.” Salt is a sign of permanence and purity. God established his kingdom on an enduring relationship with King David and his sons by means of a covenant of salt. Whereas you and I hear the Lord reference salt and probably only think of seasoning our food for taste, what we miss is that for the Jew salt had a ritual use. It had a very particular use in that it was to be sprinkled on the offerings made in the Temple as part of Israel’s covenant fidelity. Thus, you can read in the Book of Leviticus, “Ought you not to know that the Lord God of Israel gave the kingship over Israel for ever to David and his sons by a covenant of salt?” (Lev. 13:5).
Jesus says of his Church and his disciples, “You are the light of the world.” The People Israel had the vocation to be a light to the nations so that God’s offer of salvation would radiate and grow and go out to all peoples. Israel was a chosen people, but chosen to be a servant to all the world. The Prophet Isaiah reports this prophecy of the Lord God speaking to Israel, “I will give you as a light to the nations, that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth” (Is. 49:6).
With a slight adaptation of the Gospel words, Jesus says of his Church and his disciples, “You are a city set on a mountain” (adaptation of Mt. 5:14b). This image connects disciples to the privileged place of the Holy City Jerusalem, which was to be a city set on a hill drawing all people to itself and to the Temple. Thus, the Prophet Isaiah also reports, “It shall come to pass… that the mountain of the house of the Lord shall be established as the highest of the mountains… and all the nations shall flow to it” (Is. 2:2). Light is not hidden but it is set on a lampstand so that it gives light by which to see. Light is placed in prominence. Like a city set on a mountain that cannot be hidden, Jesus says of his Church and his disciples, “[Y]our light must shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your heavenly Father” (Mt. 5:16).
As the assembly of Israel received the Law in the Commandments on Mt. Sinai, so in the New Covenant the assembly of the Church receives the Beatitudes on the mountain top. Disciples should receive this authoritative teaching from the Lord as a revelation of our relationship to God, a revelation of our identity in belonging to Him, and a revelation of our mission, our vocation. There is a very popular and pervasive idea in culture, and even among Christians, and you hear people directly and indirectly promote this idea all the time. It’s probably why we need something like a New Evangelization. The idea is that faith is a private affair, a purely personal matter, that should be kept out of polite company and public discourse. That idea needs to be completely dismantled and dismissed for the parasite that it is on our vocation and mission as disciples. That erroneous idea did not come from the Lord on the mountain of authority. Rather, it comes from secular elites from the high places of halls of power and money. I bet there are times in your own life that you can admit that this parasitical notion has infected you and your sense of how to live the faith in the world. We can easily fall prey to it. Is it more comfortable to have a faith that is conveniently packaged and sealed, opened only on Sundays and in private places? Probably so. But that is not who we are called to be! That is not what we are called to do! To those who accept the idea that faith is a private and purely personal affair, we should say: Then explain the images of salt of the earth, light of the world, and a city set on a mountain! Those would be totally bizarre and nonsensical images for Jesus to use if his idea was that faith is only private, if his idea for his Church and his disciples was that we be a club concerned only about ourselves and tucked away from interaction with the world. No, the Church’s mission, fulfilling that of Israel’s, is to evangelize and to spread the Good News of the Kingdom precisely TO the world! Our light must shine before others, Jesus says. We are not being the disciples the Lord calls us to be if our faith is not evident in how we live our lives in public. Cultural powers use every means they can to cudgel us into a private faith that has no bearing on our daily living. They draft laws and orders that require us to act contrary to our faith. They seek to criminalize those who do act according to their faith. The government seeks to force religious employers to pay for contraceptives. There are those who want to force people with religious convictions to be part of funding for abortions. The cake shop owner in Colorado is a good example of how the powerful elites seek to force small business owners to participate in events celebrating immoral activities and fictions like gay marriage and transgender reveal parties.
Our world, made good by God, loved by Him, and which He desires to return to Him for fullness of life, is stale, dark, and flat – is soul-less without God – and Jesus and his Church are to be its salvation. You and I aren’t Christians on mission if our faith is only a private affair. From the Gospel: “But if salt loses its taste…. It is no longer good for anything but to be thrown out and trampled underfoot.” May that never be said of us. We can’t lose our seasoning. Start with yourself and include your family in a daily habit of prayer to keep your seasoning. The Rosary should be a natural devotion for us. Frequent confession to be healed of sin and a regular sacramental life keep our light burning brightly. Being willing to share your faith in how you raise your children and in your friendly witness to those around you at work, in your neighborhood, and in public is a way to be a city set on a hill. In all this we do not seek to have ourselves seen, but rather to let our witness drive others to glorify the heavenly Father and to be brought into the covenant of salvation.
Homily for the Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading 1 Is 58:7-10
Responsorial Psalm Ps 112:4-5, 6-7, 8-9
Reading 2 1 Cor 2:1-5
Alleluia Jn 8:12
Gospel Mt 5:13-16
Fourth Sunday after Epiphany (Mass of the 1962 Missal)
Rom. 13:8-10; Mt. 8:23-27
29 January 2023
IN THE NAME OF THE FATHER, AND OF THE SON, AND OF THE HOLY GHOST. AMEN.
The setting of this Gospel selection is the Sea, also called the Lake, of Galilee. It had – and still has – a reputation for being dangerous due to sudden storms that can arise. Fishermen knew these dangers well and they became seasoned to the temperamental nature of the Sea of Galilee. The Gospel text clearly describes the storm in strong and dramatic terms. Perhaps to put an exclamation point on the danger so that we don’t diminish the severe nature of this storm, we should note that, the disciples, experienced fishermen who knew the sea well, were clearly terrified thinking this storm might be their last and they would not make it to shore. In fact, this tempest was more than just a violent storm. The Greek words limjohnson@saintannechurchnh.orgterally refer to a great shaking of the sea, something like an earthquake. This conjures up the image of something like a tsunami. Thus, St. Matthew describes the situation as the ship being “covered with waves.” The ship is being swamped, taking on water badly, and the men on board, experienced as they were with the Sea of Galilee, think they are likely going to die. Thus, they cry out: Lord, save us, we perish! The disciples are being put to the test so that they learn not to surrender to their fears.
But the threat here may well have been more than severe weather. That possibility comes as a hint in the response from our Blessed Lord who, the text says, “commanded the winds and the sea.” The Greek for “commanded” is the word for “rebuked” which is used in other places where our Lord commands by rebuking evil spirits in exorcisms. This could be a clue that demons are behind the manifestation in nature of the earthquake and sudden storm causing a great commotion on the sea. In fact, the Church has exorcistic prayers used when there is threat of severe storms, to pray that forces lurking behind terrible threats of nature may be calmed. Decades ago, after a particularly bad hurricane season, a past archbishop of the Archdiocese of Mobile, Alabama, ordered that after all Masses the Divine Praises be recited asking for God’s protection from storms. It’s a practice they still do today. The Church, the Barque of St. Peter, still today prays against threatening storms as she makes her way through the troubled waters of the kingdom of man. In traveling through so many storms in history and in the present day, the Church manifests or shows – in fact, she carries – the divinity of Christ to the world.
We know that the Church has faced and still faces violent storms as she makes her way through history. We don’t always see through the veil and we can’t always clearly identify spiritual realities in this valley of tears. But we can assume that in some cases the forces lurking behind troubles that come from outside and within the Church may well be the evil manipulation of demons. In today’s Gospel selection we may have the hint that demons were behind the storm. But we can also suggest that demons may also have been behind the manipulation of the disciples’ fears as they despaired while the Lord slept in the boat.
The ship of the Church continues her voyage giving witness to the Lord who is God among us. We are not disciples literally in a boat but we might as well be, because we are rocked about and overcome with the waves of godless secularism and leftist ideology that seeks to corrupt and refashion everything God has revealed in nature and in the revelation given to the Church. We are tossed about by the tsunami of being lied to daily by cultural elites and their mouthpieces in the mainstream media as they seek to advance a globalist agenda. And the demonic forces that seek to pry our faith from us can be seen in the waves that swamp us even from within the Church. So many have surrendered the authentic faith in favor of having their ears tickled by false doctrine. Perversion, sin, and crime among our shepherds have left trust destroyed. We have whole generations who know almost nothing about the faith but who can spout every relativistic antiphon that undercuts moral absolutes and the fact that the Lord established one true Church for our salvation. We have Synods that are little more than manipulative committees with pre-determined outcomes, and bishops and popes who say confusing and foolish things. Come to think of it, maybe this is the Sea of Galilee!
And the Lord seems to be asleep through it all. And we cry out: Don’t you care? Save us for we perish! My brothers and sisters, our faith is being tested mightily. Will we be like those who do not trust in God, surrendering to our fears, and so hear the indictment of our Lord: Why are you fearful, oh you of little faith? Even in this storm-tossed existence, the Church carries the Lord and manifests his divinity in this world. Demons want to attack. And sadly, both outside and inside the Church there are those who cooperate with and fall prey to demonic manipulations. The Deposit of Faith is our sure rudder and anchor in our times. We should call upon the Lord in daily prayer by which we pour out our troubled hearts to him. Reading the Word of God and coming before him in Adoration should be standards for this rocky journey. The daily Rosary should be a natural reflex for us. How poor we would be if we left Our Lady and her rosary to dangle only from our rearview mirrors! Frequent confession is a must so that we are washed of the sins that will only lead us to despair. And worthy reception of the Lord’s gift of self in Holy Communion increases our faith in our storm-tossed times. In time we will marvel at the great calm that the Lord commands because he has authority over all things. Lord, we beg of you: see the wind and the seas in our time and rebuke them so that we may marvel as did your disciples: What manner of man is this, for the winds and the sea obey Him?
IN THE NAME OF THE FATHER, AND OF THE SON, AND OF THE HOLY GHOST. AMEN.
Homily for the Third Sunday in Ordinary Time by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading 1 Is 8:23—9:3
Responsorial Psalm Ps 27:1, 4, 13-14
Reading 2 1 Cor 1:10-13, 17
Alleluia Mt 4:23
Gospel Mt 4:12-23 or 4:12-17
Homily for the Second Sunday in Ordinary Time by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
John the Baptist saw Jesus coming toward him and said,
"Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world.”
Reading 1 Is 49:3, 5-6
Responsorial Psalm Ps 40:2, 4, 7-8, 8-9, 10
Reading 2 1 Cor 1:1-3
Alleluia Jn 1:14a, 12a
Gospel Jn 1:29-34
Adoration of the Shepherds, Gerard van Honthorst c. 1622. Public domain.
Homily for the Christmas Mass at midnight by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
“Glory to God in the highest
and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.”
Reading I Is 9:1-6Responsorial Psalm Ps 96: 1-2, 2-3, 11-12, 13.Reading II Ti 2:11-14Alleluia Lk 2:10-11Gospel Lk 2:1-14
Dominica III Adventus A
11 December 2022
Within the season of Advent this Mass of the Third Sunday stands out with a unique character. The character of this Sunday stands out by the shift in color from purple to the liturgical color rose and the permission to decorate the sanctuary with flowers. It should be obvious to anyone following from day to day in Advent that something is different at this moment in the season. Coming from the Latin first word of the entrance antiphon of the Mass, this Mass is known as Gaudete – or Rejoice! – Sunday. The entrance antiphon of the Mass had us pray, “Rejoice in the Lord always; again I say, rejoice.” And why do we rejoice? What is the cause of our rejoicing? The antiphon goes on to tell us, for “the Lord is near.”
The “Lord” refers to God. That God has come near to His people – to us! – is a cause of joy, even if it is also mysterious and causes some reverential fear. In what ways has God come near to us? We hold in faith the coming near of God-in-the-flesh at the first coming of His birth. God has taken on our flesh to come very near indeed! He walked and lived among people in a real place and at a real time in history. And He is not now far, though He has given everything for the saving mission He came to accomplish on the Cross; for we also hold in faith that by His ascension He still remains in our flesh and is still one-with-us from His rightful place in Heaven. The Lord God is near! He continues to come near to us when with faith, even faith the size of a mustard seed, a person opens his heart and mind to call upon Him in prayer. He comes near in a real and spiritual way to such souls who pray. He continues to come near when we comport our lives to His commands, working hard to reject sin and to remain near to Him by our moral conduct. He is near when we have such a union with Him that we take on His very heart to have compassion to serve others and to seek out the lost. He comes near to us as we embrace the orthodox faith that the Church guards and passes on for our salvation and for the salvation of the world. And for those who are united to the Church established by our Lord, we experience the nearness of God when we prepare and receive worthily the grace of the sacraments He so generously gives. When we are united to the sacramental life of the Church we have a means of rejoicing because the very life and power of God come to us in humble elements of nature, in the same way as God once came in the humility of human flesh.
Rejoice in the Lord always! The Lord is near! Why do we believe that God is near? Certainly, the authority of God’s Word in the passages heard today are a prime cause of rejoicing in the revelation they give to us. Let’s take a look at what God’s Word reveals to us. So many centuries of Christian faith having gone before us may mean that we don’t keep clear an important distinction about Jesus. We accept that Jesus is the Messiah and we accept that He is God. These are actually two distinct things that may not be so distinct in our minds so many centuries after the revelation of today’s Gospel passage. Jesus is the Messiah, in Greek the Christ, the promised one who comes to bring redemption to God’s people by lifting them from their suffering and by being the anointed priest and king who would have an enduring kingdom in the line of David. Yet, quite another thing is the revelation that Jesus is also God Himself. It is God Himself who comes to be this Messiah, this Christ. We take the joining of these two realities rather for granted, I suggest. But that was a lesson that still needed to be learned in Jesus’ time and it explains the revelation that comes about by John the Baptist’s question in today’s Gospel when he hears of the “works of the Christ”, the works of the Messiah, the works that reveal the Messiah. Through his own disciples, John asks Jesus, “Are you the one who is to come, or should we look for another?” What is the Lord’s response? He basically quotes from today’s first reading, Isaiah 35. He says, “Go and tell John what you hear and see.” Did you notice who is coming in Isaiah 35? It is not the Messiah. It is, rather, God Himself. Listen again to the first reading, “Here is your God, he comes with vindication;… he comes to save you.” Who is coming? It is God. And what are the signs that God is coming? Isaiah 35 says, the eyes of the blind will be opened, the ears of the deaf will be cleared, the lame will leap, the mute will speak. And when John the Baptist asks are you the one who is to come, how does Jesus answer? He says, you tell me what you are seeing and hearing. He lists off the following: the blind regain sight, the lame walk, the deaf hear. In other words, Jesus is doing the works of God who comes. So, this passage reveals that Jesus is the one who is to come and that He is God Himself. You probably also note that Jesus added a few things to his list of evidence. He also noted that in him lepers are cleansed and the dead are raised. This alludes to other Old Testament passages (2 Kgs. 5 and Isaiah 26) that indicate actions that only God can do. It’s like putting an exclamation point on this revelation that the “one” we are talking about here is God Himself. Finally, Jesus also notes another piece of evidence, that in him the poor have the good news proclaimed to them. This alludes to signs that the Messiah – distinct from being God – has come (Isaiah 61). So, the Lord’s answer to the question, “are you the one,” really gives us a double revelation. The answer is, yes, Jesus is God who was promised to come and he is the Messiah, fulfilling both roles in one: He is God and He is the Messiah. He is the Divine Messiah, the origin of the beautiful Advent hymn, “O Come Divine Messiah”. And so, the Church says, “rejoice!” Why? Because the Lord God Himself is near! He is not far from you!
To live in rejoicing, to remain in rejoicing, we need to remain near to God. A grace for us today is to find hope in the nearness of God and to recognize that if we are far from God it is not because He has failed to come near. It is rather, because we stray. We choose to dwell apart in the darkness of sin. We go astray in our own ideas and popular concepts about religion that depart from orthodox faith. We stray into secular pursuits that can replace a living faith. Some even quite literally stray away from the Church. If the cause of our rejoicing is that God Himself has come near to us, then a simple lesson for us is that we are called to use our freedom and zeal to remain near to Him. And the good news is He has already bridged the gap, He has already come close. We have to be convinced that we are not near to the Lord when we adopt secular ways and when we are complacent about sin. Are there ways in which you do not find yourself rejoicing? Then a lesson of this Mass is that one key to resolving that is to get closer to Jesus. The fulfillment offered to us in God and the claim of fulfillment offered by consumerism come crashing into one another at this time of year. So many sacred mysteries do we recall with tenderness in this time of year, and at the same time so much busyness, shopping, gift buying, and wrapping, and all the things that we have to do. A grace for us is to admit that there is abundant evidence that having all this world can give does not lead to satisfaction and rejoicing. If you can identify some ways in which you do not rejoice then work to get nearer to God as a remedy. God is near; we have to work to remain near to Him. Make a specific time and plan to improve your prayer life… and do it. Give special attention to working toward the daily Rosary, praying as a family. Make yourself pull away from all the illusions of media and entertainment by physically moving yourself to our chapel for adoration. You wonder why you can’t pray at home in front of the television and all the noise and the phone?! Get away from them. Plop yourself in this chapel behind me. Get to a place that’s conducive to prayer. Get nearer to God and nearer to rejoicing by confessing your sins and doing so with frequency. Get nearer to God and nearer to rejoicing by finding regular ways to serve others in charity. You’ll know God and His promises are near when you do so. Finally, get nearer to God and nearer to rejoicing by being worthily prepared to receive the grace of the sacraments, especially Holy Communion. Any poverty in our rejoicing is not because God has somehow moved away. But because we have. “Rejoice in the Lord always; again I say, rejoice. Indeed, the Lord God is near.”
Homily for the Third Sunday of Advent by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading 1 Is 35:1-6a, 10
Responsorial Psalm Ps 146:6-7, 8-9, 9-10.
Reading 2 Jas 5:7-10
Alleluia Is 61:1 (cited in Lk 4:18)
Gospel Mt 11:2-11
First Sunday of Advent (Mass of the 1962 Missal)
27 November 2022
IN THE NAME OF THE FATHER, AND OF THE SON, AND OF THE HOLY GHOST. AMEN.
The liturgical observance of the Church’s faith follows a cyclical pattern. This means that we visit and cycle through the same observances year after year. This repetition serves to teach us by reinforcing important lessons of the spiritual life for our salvation. And, this repetition allows us the opportunity, through a life of grace lived over the course of many years, the possibility of diving more deeply into the mysteries we observe annually. Today begins the liturgical cycle in a new year of grace. For good reason the Incarnation stands out among the mysteries of faith as the unique and signal beacon of salvation history. This Advent period of preparation calls to mind the ages of history and prophecy leading up to the Incarnation. Upon arriving at Christmas the Church continues the liturgical cycle the rest of the year by observing the great events in the life of Christ by which he inaugurates the Kingdom of God in our midst, accomplishes mankind’s salvation, and offers man his grace in his Church in preparation for the final judgment.
The word “advent” means “an arrival” or a “coming.” In Latin we hear this all the time in the Our Father where we pray, “adveniat regnum tuum” where it clearly means “may thy kingdom come.” In other words, may God’s kingdom arrive here, on earth as it is in heaven. We use “advent” in other ways to refer to some notable event, or arrival in the sense of a development. We might say that the advent of the printing press changed how information is shared. We can refer to the advent of “the pill” as the beginning of the demise of sexual morality. In this season of penitential preparation we are thinking of the arrival of God in the flesh, already accomplished, which we will celebrate at Christmas; and, we are thinking of His arrival still to come at the end of time at his Second Coming.
In this season we prepare ourselves to appreciate more deeply what the Incarnation means for us. We also prepare ourselves for what it will mean for us on that unknown day and hour when our Incarnate Lord will come “in a cloud with great power and majesty.” We might say that in Advent we prepare for the double coming of mercy and justice. We can equate that first arrival of the Lord as the coming of mercy. Seeing man’s sad state, it is the arrival of mercy that God came in our flesh. He has drawn near to make it possible for us to draw near to Him. He has bridged the divide. And we can equate the second coming with the arrival of justice. God expects man to respond to his coming near, to respond to His gifts of grace and generous love. We will be judged by whether we remain near to Him in the state of grace when He returns in justice among the clouds in glory and majesty.
Though the arrival of God in the flesh on that first Christmas, amid angels singing “Glory to God” was a cause of fright for the shepherds keeping watch in the fields, there is not much for us to be frightened by at the prospect of the first coming of the Lord at Christmas. For us, it is a tender truth of the faith, a great sign of hope, and a blessed and relaxing time to be with ones we love. The Second Coming, however, is another story. Given the signs of distress, confusion, and turmoil that are prophesied to accompany the Second Coming, we need a sober admission that some fear is in order. Now as a preacher of the full Gospel, I am not wanting the message today to be one of anxiety and terror. But given that we live in a day and age that is far too lax about the rigors of eternal judgment it is probably best to err on the side of encouraging some healthy discomfort and fear. The road to hell, after all, is paved with good intentions. And the heresy of universalism by which it is assumed that everyone is simply going to heaven is alive and well. There is a delicious irony that so soon after our national day of thanksgiving, which we rightly celebrate, but which might be described as rather gluttonous, a day from which we might still be sobering up… there is a delicious irony that we so quickly come face-to-face with the charge to wake up, to think about how we are living so as to observe well the first coming of the Lord at Christmas and to prepare with seriousness for the second coming of the Lord as Judge.
We walk a fine line as Catholics. We don’t profess faith in the first coming in a delirious fashion such that we ignore the second coming. And we don’t cower in terror as we profess faith in the Second Coming, precisely because we always remember the first coming and the hope the Incarnation brings us, a hope in whose honor we genuflect at each Creed and each final Gospel. Beginning this new year of grace and this season of preparation, aware as we are that there will be terrifying signs in the cosmos that accompany the Lord’s return, we hear and heed the call to not dwell in terror, even as we hold on to reverential fear that motivates us. I say this because the Gospel itself, upon mentioning the tumult of the end times, gives us a surprising charge. In the face of terrifying signs we would naturally tend to hunker down and hide and brace ourselves. But the Gospel tells us, “when these things begin to come to pass, look up and lift up your heads…” Why? “Because,” it says, “your redemption is at hand.”
And so, our response always is to live the generous grace that has flooded human history in that first coming of mercy so that we are ready in the ways the Lord knows will be sufficient for that second coming of justice. The epistle gives us clear direction: our salvation is nearer now. Each day when we awake is a little preparation. The same images apply to the second coming. Light is approaching. It is time to wake up. It is time to get out of the darkness of sin. It is time to shake the sleep from our eyes. And most evocative, the epistle tells us it is time to “put on the armor of light.”
When I wake up each day, when I leave the darkness of night, when I shake the sleep from my eyes, I generally follow the same simple routine, and I bet you do too. I am not looking for much novelty when the alarm goes off each morning. The routine of getting up and getting ready is familiar. That might be a good image for us in the spiritual life and in preparations for the Second Coming. We don’t need novelties and we don’t need much that is new. We need the routine and the familiar. So, what is our proven armor of light? Do you give time for meaningful personal prayer on a daily basis? You should. And seek to grow and increase in the time you give to God. Do you turn off the noise and the absurd ways we keep ourselves distracted such that you can pray a daily Rosary? You should. It is a privileged weapon in the battle and no armored saint would be without that sword. Do you confess your sins regularly? You should. The Judge is coming. So, judge yourself honestly now in confession and you will be more ready and aided to live in grace. Do you unite yourself at the Holy Mass, lifting yourself, your needs, and your prayers on the paten and in the chalice, making yourself part of the offering on the altar? You should. Here we have the sacramental participation of the one sacrifice of the Lord who has already come in mercy. Here we are renewed in the armor of light. Here we practice lifting up our heads to see him coming in justice. We do so with reverence and confidence for our redemption is at hand.
IN THE NAME OF THE FATHER, AND OF THE SON, AND OF THE HOLY GHOST. AMEN.
Dominica XXXIII per Annum C
13 November 2022
In the month of November, the Catholic mind quite naturally considers the end of things. The Church’s liturgical year is coming to an end. The Scripture readings in this time of year speak to us of the end of things. As we have decreasing daylight in this season, we give special attention to prayer for the souls of those who have gone before us, whose eyes have closed to the light of this world. All this easily brings to mind the end of things, the end of the world at the Second Coming, the Four Last Things (Death, Judgment, Heaven, and Hell), and the destination of our own soul after death.
In the Gospel, after numerous chapters chronicling his journey, Jesus has now arrived at his destination of Jerusalem. He is in the Holy City and has been welcomed as the king with palm branches and cries of “hosanna!” (cf. Mt. 21). The setting of this Gospel passage is the lead up to that first Holy Week. The Lord teaches in the Temple. He then goes across the valley with his disciples. From there they can look back at the holy city and its gleaming temple. Jesus speaks of the destruction of the temple. That is the clear and primary meaning of the Lord’s words in this passage. The temple had been previously destroyed by the Babylonians in 587 BC. The prophetic prediction is that it would happen again. Jesus speaks words that back up that prediction as we heard in today’s passage. And, in fact, that destruction did take place within some forty years after Jesus’ death. The Lord tells his disciples that many disturbing signs will precede and accompany this destruction. His disciples are to be alert but they are not to be afraid, even though they will not know exactly when the destruction will come. A lesson from the words of this Gospel and the teaching of the Lord, is that we don’t follow those who claim to know the day or the hour of these events. We certainly take note of signs of strife between nations and peoples, and the signs in the cosmos of natural disasters. These communicate to us that we should be ready and prepared for what comes. But we are not to get wrapped up in anxiety and frantic predictions. Rather, we live each day alert.
The Church has always understood a rich significance of the Lord’s prediction of the destruction of the temple. To understand this deeper significance, we must know something of the significance of the temple in the Jewish mind. Among other things one can say, it is important to note that the Jerusalem temple was viewed as a microcosm of heaven and earth, of the whole universe. The layout, the architecture, and the decoration of the temple symbolized heaven and earth. The different parts of the temple called to mind the parts of the universe, the land, the sea, the skies with their constellations, and the holy of holies was the symbol of heaven itself, the dwelling place of the Most High God. Theologian Brant Pitre notes that “for the Jews…, the universe was like a macro temple…. But the earthly Jerusalem temple was like a micro universe; it was a microcosm” (Mass Readings Explained, 33rd Sunday C). So, another meaning of the Lord’s words in this Gospel is that when he speaks of the destruction of the temple there is the deeper significance that he is speaking of the destruction of the whole universe, and he is making a reference to the day of final judgment.
The Church wants us to take note of these important meanings so that we remain alert for the end of things and so that we live in a way that finds us prepared for our judgment. We need to think of the end of things and we need to think of our own end. We should do this not only when it is abundantly obvious that the end is near, as it might be when one is advanced in age or facing a terminal illness or sudden disaster. It needs to be a regular habit we form. A long tradition in our Catholic spirituality, one encouraged by many saints, is captured in the phrase: Memento mori, which is Latin for “Remember death.” There will be signs of the end of the world. We may have signs of our own impending end. But we won’t know with precision the day or the hour. Rather, we must live each day in an orderly way as St. Paul referenced in the second reading, we live daily with that vibrant faith and focus so that we are ready whenever the end comes. We live each day seeking to encounter God in prayer and good moral living. We live each day availing ourselves of the grace of sacraments that the Lord has so generously left for us. If we aren’t building a prayer life, if we aren’t using confession regularly, if we’re cutting out of Mass early as a habit do we think we are forming good discipline in order to be ready to meet the Lord? We have to pay attention to these common, frequent, even daily things for they reveal something about our discipline, our vigilance and preparedness. Again, as St. Paul said, we did not act in a disorderly way. These simple things show us something about being ordered, vigilant, and prepared. We need to think about these and so many other things soberly and honestly. We don’t want to be like the proud and evildoers spoken of by the Prophet Malachi for whom the day of the Lord’s judgment will come “blazing like an oven,” leaving them set on fire and utterly destroyed, “leaving them neither root nor branch.” The same day of the Lord will come for us too. But by lives of disciplined preparedness may we find that day to be a day filled with mercy such that we are among those who fear the Lord and who find that day like “the sun of justice with its healing rays.”
Dominica XXXII per Annum C
6 November 2022
The books of the Maccabees tell the story of the Jewish Maccabeean revolt, in which the Jews were contending with the rule of a Greek king, Antiochus Epiphanes IV. He was seeking to force his non-Greek subjects to adopt Greek, pagan ways. This ran afoul of maintaining a pure and authentic Jewish faith. Today’s passage tells the story of those faithful Jews who refused the king’s governmental order to eat pork in violation of their religious law from God. The story of these Jewish martyrs is inspiring because they endured torture and death rather than violate aspects of their faith and its practice. These Jewish martyrs knew themselves to be God’s People first, something of greater importance than their earthly citizenship. This reading stands out today because the tension between a secular ruler and the demands of secular government as opposed to the authentic living of one’s faith strikes me as an important lesson as we seek to do our duty in Tuesday’s elections as both citizens of God’s kingdom and citizens of the kingdom of man but, it must be said, citizens of God’s kingdom first.
The Maccabees show us the proper outlook or vision that a person of faith ought to have when navigating the often-meandering paths of this secular world. Are we made for this present world only? Do we think that is the case? Do we act as if that is the case? Or do we have a vision that acknowledges that we are pilgrims here and that our journey will take us to the passage through death to the next realm, a passage whose destination will be determined by the fact that we will be judged by God? If you believe that your destiny is heaven, you will act in a way that reveals you have priorities that are different from the priorities of those who consider this world only. God’s law, God’s kingdom, is higher and takes priority over man’s law. To acknowledge this is, for the person of faith, critical for having our priorities rightly ordered. Believers don’t seek conflict with man’s law. But when man’s law would require of a believer that he transgress God’s law on some grave matter, then the believer must resist and object to the evil that man’s law seeks to require.
I suspect that many in our political class, especially among our national figures, even those who publicly claim to be people of faith, have a vision limited to this realm. Many have no real eternal vision. They have no real reverential awe, or fear, of God. I suspect that is a key matter at the heart of the secular slide we see in our world, a slide that feels of late more like a Niagara Falls of cascading over the edge from sanity to insanity. The secular-minded think man’s ways and what man can do are supreme. They do not think of an eternal judgment or consequences for having chosen to act contrary to God’s law. We cannot make that same mistake and adopt that philosophy of life. We need to know that our belonging to God requires of us Catholics that we seek to promote His primacy and His order in our world. We are to seek to order this world in accord with godly ways by our action, by our energies, and by our promotion of the truth and of sound moral reasoning that understands the claims of justice and seeks to establish an authentic common good where the fundamental rights of others are secured. This should not be controversial for believers. Think of the many things we hold in faith that should make it obvious to us that faith and the social order, that faith and our politics, go together. Obvious things like these: God has made the world in goodness and with specific order and purpose. God has taken on our flesh and shows us from the “inside”, as it were, how to live in the flesh in a way that is in accord with God and our own innate dignity. Can we fail to notice in our frequent praying of the Lord’s Prayer those lines with implications for the social, political order: “Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven” (Mt. 6:9ff). We hold in faith that Christ is our King. Do we realize the clear meaning of professing that he is sovereign and we are subjects? Or do we live as if we are our own sovereigns? Or as if we have no king but Caesar? Finally, the example of so many saints who brought their faith to bear on addressing social needs and improving the social order, by caring for the poor, founding hospitals and orphanages, and by building an education system, all of this is a powerful sign of how we must preserve that proper vision by which we remain faithful to God and by which we refuse to act contrary to godly ways, even if pressured by government leaders and secular elites.
Our choices these days are about stark differences between good and evil of the most-grave kind. It really is not difficult to find national party platform positions and the stance of individual candidates on these issues. We need to take note of those issues in our moral reasoning that are called intrinsically evil, because that means they can never be good and never acceptable under any condition. The legal fiction of a constitutional right to abortion has thankfully been rectified by the overturning of Roe v. Wade. However, the abortion fight is far from over. We have the tough work on a state-by-state basis now to convert hearts away from despair and the lie of abortion. No longer being able to hide behind a federal statement like Roe v. Wade, local candidates now have to be much more upfront about their stance on abortion. When we have a clear choice between a candidate or platform that would support or expand abortion versus one that would seek to limit it and eliminate it, we can never morally support abortion or such a candidate who would expand that evil. The euphemisms of “reproductive health care” and “reproductive justice” are just masks for one of the gravest of evils. We have choices to make in the realm of marriage and family. Our culture suffers under the lie that two men or two women can form a bond that is somehow no different than, or is somehow morally equivalent to, the good that traditional marriage is for society and for the raising and formation of children. The struggles of the same-sex attracted should be met with compassion from believers and should not be met with a cold shoulder. We need to speak biblical moral truth to them in charity. However, we do them no good by voting for, supporting, or promoting the LGBTQ agenda. The modern distortion of marriage and family is another grave evil, whether it is same-sex marriage or any other arrangement that departs from the bond of one man to one woman. We cannot support or promote these distortions in our electoral choices. Another grave evil of our time is the transgender movement and the lie that our bodies do not speak or show us reliable truth. Despite the fact that the methodology of science is about observable phenomena and the fact that even a grade school level science book would cover the basics of biology and sex, the elite in our leadership and cultural classes insist that we bow to the construct of gender and the lie that cosmetic surgery could make one the opposite sex in any real way. The indoctrination into this ideology is forced upon children now too. If we hold proper catholic moral values we must reject this lie. We cannot support it in our political choices.
But more than simply refusing to support these and other grave evils when we vote, I think we also need to understand the exciting and yes, at times perilous, call to evangelize and change our society for the better. Our catholic moral values are not just about saying “no” to things, saying “no” to evils; the truth of our faith is also about saying “yes” to what is true and good and beautiful. It is about saying “yes” to the things that will truly help people flourish. And thus, we should have faith and confidence that our act of voting is an important duty for our citizenship in the realms of both God and man. And more than just making moral choices on the ballot, I am more and more convinced of something else that our time needs: We need solid catholics – people here in these pews, in our parish, to wake up to what is going on around us and to run for office in order to drive positive change. I’m not even talking about huge statewide or national races that seem out of our grasp. I’m talking about local races. The mask is off in our culture these days and we now see that these complicated evils are not just elsewhere, but they are right in our neighborhoods and even our backyards, and in our school systems. We need solid catholics to run for local school boards, city council, and mayor races. Those races are decided by very few votes. Don’t tell me that good people here in this congregation couldn’t step up to bring godly values and sanity to our community. And if we and just a few other churches stood together as a sort of voting bloc we could determine moral outcomes for the better in our community.
Too many modern Christians and leaders aren’t passionate about confronting moral evil. It’s not enough just to call it out. We need to confront it with prayer, and penance, and sacrifice, and civic engagement, and, yes, even putting ourselves into the race for office. Don’t throw up your hands in defeat and say, “Oh well. That’s just how things are.” Modern life feels to me like a crazy circus in which I did not choose to participate. As I look over our political landscape, I am rather tired of hearing the now constant claim that the participation in the political process of people with traditional religious and/or conservative values is tantamount to a “threat to our democracy.” That is really what is being claimed. We don’t want to let that beat us down and cause us to fail to participate. Because when we participate in the process, and all the more when we are informed, that IS democracy. Groups of atheists and leftist secularists are pouring dark money into Oklahoma campaigns. It’s happening right now in the current election cycle. Oklahoma has a target on its back because we are known to be a God-fearing State. We need to be aware of the dangerous ideologies of our time, engaged in civic matters with a divine faith, and fueled by a courage much like that of the Maccabean brothers. God and His laws have primacy in our lives and they must have primacy in the choices we make about those who govern us. Thy will be done, Father, on earth as it is in heaven!
An important homily as Election Day approaches for the Thirty-second Sunday in Ordinary Time by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading 1 2 Mc 7:1-2, 9-14
Responsorial Psalm Ps 17:1, 5-6, 8, 15
Reading 2 2 Thes 2:16-3:5
Alleluia Rv 1:5a, 6b
Gospel Lk 20:27-38
All Souls’ Day
2 November 2022
Those who have come to faith and who have been baptized are numbered among God’s holy ones, the saints. Though we tend to normally think of the term “saint” in its most restrictive, specific meaning, -- that is, the canonized saints – we should be aware that the term has wider meanings too. Yesterday the Church placed before us one such wider use of the term “saint” in that we commemorated in one celebration all the anonymous holy ones who are in heaven but whose lives are not as known as the canonized saints. Today the Church reminds us that we should not forget the souls of the just who have passed from this life and who may still be awaiting full entrance into heaven after some period of cleansing purification, a time of purgation. For the souls in Purgatory are among that widest meaning of “saint”, including we baptized who are still among the Church Militant on earth. The Church annually commemorates the souls of all who have died in Christ on All Souls’ Day, November 2nd. This commemoration of all the baptized dead necessarily makes us confront death, that reality that is, at times, foreseen and sometimes sudden, but always mysterious for at one moment a person is alive and with us, and the next moment he is not.
When a person dies in the body he passes beyond this veil. The body deteriorates and the soul, being spiritual and eternal, lives on awaiting the General Resurrection at the end of time. A soul that dies in unrepented mortal sin, dies in separation from God and remains in that state for all eternity in Hell. A soul that dies in the perfect state of grace, has immediate passage for all eternity to heaven. Yet, we recognize, too, another class of possibility: that is, those souls who at the time of death are not guilty of unrepented mortal sin and so are just, are holy, but who are not perfectly holy. They are just souls, souls in the state of grace, and while, ultimately destined for Heaven, they have lesser sins, imperfections, and temporal punishment to be completed to make repair for past sinfulness. There are two things to consider when we pray for the deceased. The first is that we are called in charity to pray for all the deceased. It is a gift to them. It is the right thing to do. We should hope that all people repent and desire the eternal life God generously offers. But, we do not know the state of a person’s soul. We are not the judge. The second thing to consider is, what happens to our prayers? What happens, in other words, to the grace of the prayerful gift we make for souls? It must be noted that while we pray for all the deceased, our prayers cannot assist a soul in separation from God because there is no help that can be given such a soul. It also must be noted that our prayers do not assist a soul in perfect grace who goes immediately to Heaven, because such a soul has no need of any help. Our prayers can and do assist those just souls in Purgatory who are enduring purification as they await fullness of heavenly life, which is the destiny of all souls in Purgatory. We call these souls the poor souls because, while in the state of grace, they need our help.
We pray and we must leave to God to apply that gift to those souls who need our help and who may receive it. We categorize these souls as the souls in Purgatory. In charity we should not forget them. We should aid them by the merits of the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass by that laudable and long-standing custom of having Masses offered for the deceased. We offer prayers for specific souls, those of our relatives and friends. But we should also maintain prayer more generically for all the souls in Purgatory. The indulgence associated with visiting a cemetery and praying for the dead, which we have been promoting, is another great gift to offer the poor souls. In doing all this, we hope that we ourselves will not be forgotten when we pass, for we may well need all of God’s holy ones to assist us in our purgation.
The All Souls’ Day Masses, like a funeral Mass, or any requiem Mass, is marked by a certain somber atmosphere. You see many visual cues of this somber atmosphere before you. The vesture of the sacred ministers is traditionally black, the color associated with mourning and death. The altar and tabernacle, because it is the place from which the Bread of Life comes to us, is never vested in the color of death, but is vested in purple as a reminder that repentance is needed in the face of impending death and also as a reminder that our penances assist the poor souls in need. This year I revived an older long-standing catholic custom, that of using unbleached candles. I knew of this custom for a long time but I never bothered to do anything about it. What finally pushed me over the edge was seeing unbleached candles used at Queen Elizabeth II’s funeral. I decided I was tired of Anglicans getting to do Catholic things while Catholics do not! The bright white of festivity, the normal color of our candles, gives way to the more somber unbleached candle. All this points to our confrontation with the mystery that we cannot avoid on All Souls’ Day: the mystery of the soul’s passage through death to eternal life.
It is our faith that at the General Judgment, at the end of time, the bodies of the deceased will rise to be reunited with the soul, as is our proper way to exist as human beings. The soul will then experience its eternal judgment in the resurrected body. The question is what kind of eternity, what kind of judgment will it be? As we heard in the Gospel (cf. Jn. 5:24-19), will it be a resurrection of life, meaning heaven? Or a resurrection of condemnation, meaning hell? For we, the saints still on earth, we have the current gift of time to repent, to pray, to confess our sins, to grow in virtue, and to be nourished by the saving gift of the Holy Eucharist. We join the saints in heaven in praying for the Poor Souls. And we humbly entrust those who have died to the generous mercy of God, through the spotless hands of Mary, the Mother of Mercy. Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon them. May their souls and all the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen.
Homily for The Commemoration of All the Faithful Departed
(All Souls) by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading I Wis 3:1-9
Responsorial Psalm 23:1-3a, 3b-4, 5, 6
Reading II Rom 6:3-9
Alleluia Mt 25:34
Gospel Jn 6:37-40
Solemnity of All Saints
1 November 2022
Every time we profess the Catholic Faith by stating the Creed, as we will do in a few moments, we profess several essential elements of faith in God and our salvation. And we profess several essential elements about the Church. At the end of the Creed we say, “I believe in one, holy, catholic, and apostolic Church.” This line of the Creed identifies the four marks of the Church. These are like identifying signs that point to the Church established by our Blessed Lord. Where we might be in doubt about what is the Church or where is the Church, we look to find those marks. The Church established by our Lord is one; it has unity of faith and organization. The Church established by our Lord includes all people and provides the wholeness of teaching and sanctifying means for our salvation. The meaning of ‘catholic’ is whole or universal. The Church established by our Lord was entrusted to the Apostles and maintains an unbroken line of apostolic succession such that the same authority given by Christ comes to us today through our bishops. And most notable for today’s solemnity, we profess that identifying mark of the Church that is holiness.
The Church is both a divine and a human institution. She is both a spiritual reality and a reality that exists in this material world. Our Lord, the groom to his bride the Church, has made her indefectibly holy by dying to purify and save her and to unite her to himself. Yet, the holiness proper to the Church must still be fostered and attained by that part of the Church that is still on its journey. That means you and me. We have been brought into the holiness of the Church by baptism and the life of grace. Yet, we are still on pilgrimage here. We still struggle with sin. We must reform our lives and respond to the call to holiness so that the identifying mark of holiness may continue to shine visibly in the Church.
The Church’s liturgical life has us celebrate the holy examples of so many saints. Many saints punctuate our liturgical calendar because their lives are known and of great renown. But by no means do we think that the identified and canonized saints are the only saints there are. After all, the vision of St. John in the Book of Revelation [first reading] indicates both a specific number (144,000 from every tribe of Israel) and an additional “great multitude, which no one could count, from every nation, race, people, and tongue.” Today’s solemnity celebrates the holiness of the Church and it wraps into one observance all those many more saints who are more anonymous, who make the holiness of the Church shine forth. In celebrating the holiness today of both the known and anonymous saints, we have a renewed call to live more deeply our membership in the Body of Christ by growing in holiness.
The People of Israel honored Jerusalem and the Holy Temple as the place of God’s favor and their citizenry. The prophecy of Ezekiel is prime in identifying the hoped-for New Jerusalem where the Temple would be rebuilt as a center of the Messianic Kingdom and the gathering place of the children of the twelve tribes of Israel. In the Book of Revelation this city is also called the Heavenly Jerusalem. In the New Covenant we have come to realize that we await the fulfillment of this Holy City that gathers us all together as a nourishing mother gathers her children. St. Paul made use of this notion in an allegory about the two sons of Abraham, one from Hagar the slave woman and one from his beloved Sarah, the free woman. He said these two women stand for the two covenants. Hagar and her children are enslaved and stand for the present Jerusalem. But, wrote St. Paul, “the Jerusalem above is free, and she is our mother” (Gal. 4:21-26). As children of the promise fulfilled in the Lord Jesus Christ, we await that city to come. And so, at the altar in a few moments you will hear some poetic imagery for today’s solemnity that might strike you as curious. I will chant: “For today by your gift we celebrate the festival of your city, the heavenly Jerusalem, our mother” (Preface of the Mass of All Saints’ Day; cf. Rev. 21:10).
Brothers and sisters, the Church is holy. She is already holy and she is called to holiness among her members still journeying here. You and I have the charge to let that holiness proper to the Church shine through our lives. We aren’t living up to our mission if we think being lukewarm or occasionally godly will suffice. We also must reject the heresy that would view holiness as an impossible project for us. The Lord has laid down his life to save us and has opened for us a path that we can traverse. Recently on the Three Hearts Pilgrimage the group of 1,500 people processed silently in the final mile to enter Clear Creek Abbey Church. By necessity some pilgrims were in the lead, as is the nature of a line, some in the middle of the pack, and some at the end, but they were all journeying closer to the abbey church. Being among the first group of pilgrims, I was one of the first to enter the church. We had a long wait in prayerful silence as the other pilgrims arrived after us. That strikes me as a moving image for how we celebrate today in one observance so many saints, known and anonymous, and how we are called to take up part of that great multitude of holy ones in procession. The saints who have already arrived in the heavenly Jerusalem are already around God’s throne praying for us and awaiting our arrival. They are like the pilgrims I mentioned a few moments ago at the head of the procession who arrive first. We, though much later in the procession of God’s holy ones are still journeying, but – and here’s what I find moving about the image – we are no less a part of that procession of God’s holy ones; we’re just further back in the line. We have the example and the powerful prayers of those who are in the lead. And that gives us greater hope and greater endurance to continue moving in this procession of God’s one, holy, catholic, and apostolic Church.
Homily for the Solemnity of All Saints by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading I Rv 7:2-4, 9-14
Responsorial Psalm 24:1bc-2, 3-4ab, 5-6
Reading II 1 Jn 3:1-3
Alleluia Mt 11:28
Gospel Mt 5:1-12a
Dominica D.N. Iesu Christi Regis (Mass of the 1962 Missal)
30 October 2022
IN THE NAME OF THE FATHER, AND OF THE SON, AND OF THE HOLY GHOST. AMEN.
In a Church with as much history as ours, we observe today a solemnity that is more recent in history. This solemnity of the universal kingship of Christ was established by Pope Pius XI in 1925. The Old Testament prophets proclaimed the coming Messiah and his kingship. The signs surrounding the conception and birth of our Blessed Lord made it clear that he was the fulfillment of the promise made of a descendent of David whose kingship would be firm and whose kingdom would have no end. We who live in societies with representative forms of governance need to make sure we do not easily dismiss or gloss over the kingship of Christ and his claim on us. In addition, observing the Kingship of Christ calls us to seek God’s kingdom with renewed vigor. Finally, we must admit a serious duty as Catholics to work to bring the world into greater conformity to the reign of Christ, and by prayers, and influence, and action, to return the world to its proper place under the authority of Christ. We should not fail to notice that with major elections just days away, we have an opportunity and a duty to vote in a way that shows we understand that Christ is our King and the King of all nations, all time, and all history.
The Gospel for this solemnity is the more private interrogation of the Lord by Pilate inside the praetorium. The Jewish authorities have their own charges against our Lord. But they bring him to Pilate because as the Roman authority he has the ability to condemn to death. As a Roman authority, Pilate is not interested in the religious charges. The Romans aren’t going to execute anyone based on a charge of blasphemy or some other violation of the Torah. But when Pilate hears the political charge of being a king, his interest is raised and he must inquire about who would claim a kingship contrary to the sole kingship of the Emperor. And so, to determine if there is potential treason involved, Pilate asks the Lord, “Art thou King of the Jews?” You can see that Pilate is not interested in any religious debate or charge when he says, “Am I a Jew?.... What hast Thou done?”
Here the Lord, who has preached often about the Kingdom of God, makes direct mention of his own Kingdom. His is a kingdom not of this world. Were it of this world the Lord’s subjects would act as any other members of a kingdom would act under threat, they would fight to preserve it: in this case they would strive to see that the Lord is not turned over to the Jews. But as it is, his kingdom is not here.
The Kingdom of Christ our King is not here. I think this deserves some focus and reflection. The result of this truth is by no means that we as Catholics ignore this world or fail to care for it or to have interest in it. No, we have a duty to see that our efforts and prayers and energies are employed to bring this world into greater conformity to the reign of Christ. But we must never make the mistake of thinking or acting that our primary or enduring focus is a kingdom in the realm of man. I think this important lesson needs focus and reflection because I am more and more convinced that many endeavors of man reveal the mistaken notion that we seek fulfillment here in a kingdom of this world. One might excuse the average man of thinking this way. But one cannot excuse a person of faith or someone in the Church. Yet, sadly, more and more do we not see so many endeavors in the Church that seem to rise from an erroneous foundation that views this world and this life as a kingdom of ultimate value or, worse, that views this world as our ultimate destination?
Our time is marked by a serious lack of supernatural faith. It is marked by a poverty of the fear of God. Sadly, we see this in the Church too. As a Church we expend massive amounts of time and energy and money on flashy programs and consultants and professionals yet one wonders what might happen if even a fraction of such capital was spent on actually proclaiming the Gospel with fidelity and courage. What I call “a franchise mentality” has somehow taken over our Church and many a bishop acts more like a bureaucrat than an apostle. Our leaders do just about anything to protect the body from any danger, as if death of the body is a worse evil than death of the soul. This inverted and perverted focus revealed itself in the Church when we deemed ourselves to be non-essential during COVID panic by closing down, choking off the proclamation of the Good News while proclaiming the secular “gospel of vaccination” along with most of the cultural elites. I would love for the Lord to return today and suddenly appear in the office of the Synod of Bishops in the Vatican and say, “My kingdom is not here.” I amuse myself with the notion that all the garbage and heresy fomented by that office would suddenly be given a voice, like the very stones of Jerusalem crying out to our King (cf. Lk. 19:38-40), to testify against the leadership for its culpable lack of faith and its scandal of causing us little ones to sin because of their betrayal of the Faith.
Yes, we need a potent reminder in our contemporary world – and even in the Church – that the Lord is King and even though we do not ignore this world that has been made by God to be good, we must always admit the primacy of the kingdom that is not here. Have we begun life in the kingdom here? Yes. But the fulfillment is not in this world. May our proclamation of the full meaning of Christ’s kingship be a catalyst that causes us to strive for greater holiness and to have zeal to arrive at the “kingdom of truth and life, of holiness and grace, a Kingdom of justice, love, and peace” (From the Preface for the Mass of Christ the King).
IN THE NAME OF THE FATHER, AND OF THE SON, AND OF THE HOLY GHOST. AMEN.
Dominica XXVIII per Annum C
9 October 2022
The first reading and the Gospel selection follow a remarkably similar narrative. A leper, who is a foreigner, is cleansed and has enough awareness to notice, to make a return, and to thank God in adoration and homage. Two lepers. Two non-Jews. Two who are not part of God’s People. Only these are aware of the gift they are given; only these make a return; only these thank God. And because their eyes are open to the gift and because their hearts are filled with gratitude, they receive still more from God: not only physical healing but the salvation of their souls that unites them to God’s People and to the worship and sacrifice offered to the true God!
Over time the biblical imagery of the physical malady of leprosy has become a figure of spiritual malady. While we are not concerned about the transmission of leprosy in our community, we can apply a broader spiritual lesson to our lives. In particular, I want to encourage an application of the lesson to our life as Christian stewards. The spiritual lessons come from what the Gospel tells us happened as the lepers were leaving Jesus. Listen again, “As they were going they were cleansed. And one of them, realizing he had been healed, returned, glorifying God…; and he fell at the feet of Jesus and thanked him.” Some fundamental but critical spiritual lessons come from this description. These lessons from the one leper should be part of our lives. The lessons are threefold: realizing, making a return, and glorifying or thanking God.
The lesson of realizing is being aware of what God does for us, being aware of what is given us, and how we are blessed. It is a self-awareness and an awareness about God. It is not a call to self-absorption, but rather it is a lesson to be more reflective, prayerful, and recollected so that we take notice of what is happening in us and around us, especially as it regards our life with God. Being aware in the spiritual life takes effort and practice. We are often so busy about the things of the physical realm, the things our senses can perceive, that we leave largely untrained and undeveloped the skill of taking notice of our soul and the movements of the spiritual realm. The simple comment of the Gospel highlights, however, just what a difference this lesson makes. All the lepers were cleansed. Apparently only one was aware. Only one noticed. Only one realized. The other nine kept going their way. The awareness of the one, led him back to a deeper encounter with God Himself. See, then, how important a practice awareness is?!
The second lesson is making a return. When we are reflective and train ourselves in spiritual awareness we are less likely to miss what is going on in our life with God. Being more in tune with God’s movements and His blessings in our lives, we then are in a position to respond by making a return to Him. Without developing this lesson, we risk, like the other nine lepers, going on our merry way unaware of both how we have already been blessed by God and how we might be still more blessed if we made a return and remained in God’s presence, where He is clearly bestowing His blessings.
The third lesson is glorifying and thanking God. God deserves and is owed our praise. Recall the Alleluia verse? “In all circumstances, give thanks!” Our individual prayer, our virtuous living as temples of the Holy Spirit, and our worship at Holy Mass and adoration in the chapel are all important ways we glorify God. Given that the Greek word for “giving thanks,” used in this Gospel passage when the one leper thanked Jesus, given that the word is eucharisteo, we have a clear connection to the Holy Eucharist. This takes on a deeper meaning for us as Catholics in that being present at Mass to worship and taking time to be before the Lord in our adoration chapel are clear connections to the giving thanks that is the very heart of the Holy Eucharist.
What we see in this Gospel passage is that these spiritual practices of realizing what God is doing, making a return, and glorifying and thanking Him in Jesus, are not only appropriate ways by which we celebrate what God generously gives us, but these practices open us to even more blessings from God. Notice all ten lepers received the blessing of healing, but only the one received still more, for he heard that not only his flesh, but his soul, was healed: “Stand up and go; your faith has saved you.”
Over the past several weeks we have heard from the section of St. Luke’s Gospel that offers several parables about the proper use of wealth. With those parables in mind together with the lessons today from the leper I’d like to encourage our practice of stewardship as regards our commitment to the needs of our parish and to the needs we can provide by means of other charitable giving. I think the lessons of realizing our blessings, making a return, and thanking God have a direct application to how we each are called to provide for our communal life here at the parish. The way of life of stewardship, by which Christian disciples are grateful for gifts received and seek to give back to God such that He is glorified, is a way of life for each of us. It is a way of life that the parish itself follows. It can be hard to keep everyone in the loop in a parish setting. Thus, I shouldn’t assume that everyone can appreciate how the parish practices stewardship. In fact, the parish itself tithes by making a commitment of using 10% of our income for charitable use. I hope you will find it inspiring that from each weekend collection we pull 10% off the top and place it in a separate bank account for gifts we make to local, national, and international charities. That tithe from our Sunday collection income is not available for use for operations or other expenses. It is a commitment we make to the Lord to be confident that he has and that he will continue to bless us, and so we freely use our tithe to be available to bless others. Believe me, when you consider the pinch that giving requires of you, I, too, as Pastor, feel it on behalf of the parish. There are lean times in the parish budget and it can be tempting to think, if we could just use that tithe to get us by this month or to help us make that loan payment! But, no, we have a firm commitment on the parish level to maintain that tithe as a practice of stewardship and as an example leading the way in asking of you that you similarly tithe to the parish and to other charities.
Given today’s Gospel lessons about awareness, making a return, and giving thanks we might ask ourselves: Do I seek to be aware and to count the blessings I have? Am I grateful to God for what He has done in my life? Do I thank Him in the prayers and offerings of the Holy Mass? Do I thank Him by making a commitment to time in adoration in our chapel? Am I grateful for the people and things, the skills and blessings, God has put into my life? How do I express that gratitude? Do I give back to God? I think awareness, gratitude, and stewardship have a direct connection: When you take time to reflect, and to notice, and to be aware of the gifts you have been given, you quite easily want to give back. This is the habit I urge you to form. It will reap benefits in your life. It will reap benefits in our parish life as we seek to meet the demands of running a parish. And it will reap benefits in the lives of others we seek to serve.
I give a finance/stewardship talk about two to three times per year to make us aware of our financial status and to encourage stewardship. It is important that you have some awareness of our budget and our financial position. Because the staff and I are rather frugal and careful with our expenses our budget tends to come out positively when viewed over a 12-month period. However, the reality of cash flow is quite a different story from month-to-month. When we look at the money we need to pay the bills and to do the things we do week-to-week and month-to-month, we face regular challenges of not having the appropriate cash flow. The only real place we get income is from you. So, I ask that each parishioner be involved in helping carry the responsibility we all share together for having a parish and for covering the costs of what we do. It is clear to me from conversations that many people know they should be making sacrificial gifts and they want to do so, but maybe it never happens, or it happens irregularly. If that is your situation, my challenge to you is to make a specific plan today. That plan should be as simple and direct as these three steps: (1) Decide today that I will visit the adoration chapel and make a visit of at least 10 minutes each week. I will go there to be in the presence of the Lord to give him thanks. I will go there to ask that he increase my faith and to ask that he guide me as I plan my regular gift to my parish. Two, (2) I will begin making a regular gift to my parish today, whatever that gift is, whatever the amount. It belongs to God as a gift I entrust to the Church here in my parish. I will commit to a weekly amount that I will set aside for my support of the parish and I will make that gift at regular intervals, weekly or monthly. Three, (3) if I am not currently giving and I don’t know where to start, then I will consider the dollar amount of a sacrifice I can make each week, something I can do without in order to get in the habit of supporting my parish. Maybe that weekly sacrifice is the amount of one of my favorite coffee drinks that I get many days each week. Maybe it is the cost of my favorite meal at a restaurant. Maybe it is the value of one hour of my work week. Can you sacrifice at least that amount and put it in an envelope or give it electronically each week in gratitude to God and in support of your parish? I bet it is more possible than you think. And these steps should be taken with the view of strengthening and increasing this practice of stewardship so that each of us becomes a regular sacrificial giver, a giver who intentionally plans what to give to God, a giver who gives first to God off the top and not only from what is left over, and a giver who is a percentage giver.
We count on your regular gifts and we make ministry and administrative decisions based on whether we have enough income to do the things we would like to do in order to serve you. If you are not signed up for Faith Direct electronic giving, there is information in the pews and I ask you to consider that method of giving. It is a very easy and safe way to make your gifts. It is managed from your computer or smartphone and can be as easy as giving via a text message to set up an account. If you cannot manage electronic giving and if you don’t have, or are not getting envelopes, please get help from the office staff to participate as a regular contributor to your parish’s needs. The staff can help you get set up for the method you prefer for making your gifts. I can’t tell you – and I wouldn’t presume to tell you – how much you should give. I can tell you one thing that our practice of stewardship should be and one thing that it should not be – and this holds true for each one of us here. Our gift should be sacrificial. And our gift should not be zero. I can assure you that I and the staff and our Finance Council respect your gifts, we remain frugal, and we will always use our parish resources responsibly.
Last week we heard the Apostles ask “Increase our faith.” We can make that our prayer to the Lord too as we seek to take new steps in stewardship and the practice of regular giving to our parish. In today’s passage faith is what saves the leper. Awareness/realizing – making a return – thanking God – and increased faith and trust all go hand in hand. If you will work to be reflective and aware in your spiritual life, you’ll find more blessings. You’ll be more grateful. It will be much easier to give back to God. And you’ll feel more free as a disciple to be sacrificial in your giving to the parish and to the other charities you support.
Dominica XXVII per Annum C
2 October 2022
For many weeks now we have been hearing the Lord’s teaching while on an extended journey to Jerusalem. This section of St. Luke’s Gospel contains many challenging parables. The Apostles, and we, have heard parables about the cost of discipleship over these weeks. We have heard parables about repentance, being lost, and the extravagant mercy of God who searches us out. We have heard parables about the proper use of wealth and riches, and the call to put our resources at the service of others as good stewards. Today we are reminded that we are servants who have duties to fulfill and that we ought not fulfill those duties as if expecting some particular praise or reward for doing what we simply should do. We have done only what we were obliged to do, to use words from the Gospel. We each face many challenges in life and in living the faith. We are not promised that we will navigate this life without difficulty. We are not promised that the final resolution to suffering and challenge will be here in this life. With this in mind, I bet the prayer of the Apostles could easily be the prayer each of us makes to Jesus: “Increase our faith.”
Now the Apostles by this point certainly already had faith. They had encountered Jesus and they had been changed. They had come to believe in him. Yet, they must walk with him and journey through life encountering all the things, all the ups and downs, that life brings to any one of us. That the Apostles ask that their faith be increased is a reminder to us that faith is not static. It is something that must grow. We might even consider that hearing the series of challenging parables from the Lord, parables presented to us these past many weeks, we might suggest that the Apostles are also asking that their trust be increased. The personal trust of the believer is, after all, another meaning of the word “faith”. In other words, they are not seeking only the faith that believes in things but the faith that leads them to deeper trust to maintain their relationship with the Lord through all that life brings.
In their prayer for increased faith, increased trust, Jesus uses the simple example of the mulberry tree. He says, even if you have only a little faith, “you would say to this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you.” The example highlights two unlikely, and even impossible things. First, a mulberry tree is known to have such a broad, expansive, and deep root system that it is unlikely you are going to uproot it. Second, a tree is not going to be planted in the sea and survive. The idea with this image then is that faith has the ability to do things beyond our capabilities. Faith can do the seemingly impossible. And it does so, not because of us but, because of God’s power. It is God who accomplishes things when we let Him act, when we have faith that calls out to Him for things we cannot achieve.
Each of us faces moments and events of life that test us and that leave us feeling powerless. The first reading from the Prophet Habakkuk demonstrates this and uses words that might resonate with us in our challenges. “How long, O Lord? I cry for help but you do not listen!... Why do you let me see ruin; why must I look at misery?” Again, in this fallen world we are not promised an easy passage. Suffering comes and it may last for a long time and it may come frequently. We want answers and solutions and happy resolutions here. But the word of the Lord through the Prophet Habakkuk calls us to have faith in the vision of the Lord’s promises to come. That vision, the Lord says, “presses on to fulfillment…. If it delays, wait for it, it will surely come…. The rash one has no integrity; but the just one, because of his faith, shall live.” There will be challenge and suffering, yes, but the one who has faith shall endure and shall live.
And so, we come to the words of Psalm 95, the responsorial psalm of this Holy Mass, a psalm that the Church prays daily at the first prayer time of each day in the Liturgy of the Hours, called the Invitatory. That psalm begins by referring to the Lord God as the Rock of our salvation. That image is not just a generic image for strength and solid foundation. Rather, it is a direct reference to the experience of God’s People in the exodus and desert wanderings. The rock is the rock that Moses struck to provide the people water in the desert at Meribah and Massah. There, as the people were being led and provided for in the desert, they were given water to drink yet at the same time they doubted. They failed to completely trust. In the very moment of being provided water the people were saying, “Is the Lord in our midst or not?” And so, the section of the psalm we use today references that very event saying, “Harden not your hearts as at Meribah, as in the day of Massah in the desert, where your fathers tempted me; they tested me though they had seen my works.”
The Church recognizes the challenges that each life brings and recognizes that even in the midst of blessings and God’s workings among us we are tempted to doubt and to lack faith. The Church recognizes that we need greater trust because we lose perspective and focus in “our deserts”. Just like the People of Israel did, we, too, have our places of contention and grumbling and testing, we have “our Meribahs” and “our Massahs”. And so, at the beginning of each day, not knowing what may come our way, the Church places on our lips this very experience from the desert wanderings. We use these same words today, “If today you hear his voice, harden not your hearts.” Like the Apostles we call out to the Lord, “Increase our faith.” We beg that our vision and perspective may be purified in all things – all the moments and events that life brings us – that we may let God work to do the things we cannot see or achieve on our own.
Homily for the Twenty-seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time by Fr. Stephen Hamilton
Reading 1 Hab 1:2-3; 2:2-4
Responsorial Psalm Ps 95:1-2, 6-7, 8-9
Reading 2 2 Tm 1:6-8, 13-14
Alleluia 1 Pt 1:25
Gospel Lk 17:5-10
Dominica XXVI per Annum C
25 September 2022
Last week’s Gospel concluded with these words: “You cannot serve both God and mammon.” Mammon refers to wealth, specifically a wealth that one treats as an idol, whether consciously or not. The message is that we cannot serve both God and wealth; we cannot serve two masters. As I mentioned last week, this section of St. Luke’s Gospel we are in is the Lord’s extended teaching about the proper use of wealth.
This parable is unique in that one of the figures is named, as opposed to the typical trend in parables of unnamed characters. Usually we have only a rich man, a steward, a man who loses a sheep, a woman who loses a coin. But here the poor and diseased man is named Lazarus. The rich man is not named. However, you might come across this parable referred to as the Parable of Lazarus and Dives. In our Catholic tradition, the rich man was eventually given the name Dives, not because it is a name but because “Dives” is Latin for rich man. There has been speculation that perhaps this Lazarus is the same Lazarus from John chapter 11, who died and who was brought back from the dead as a warning and as a sign to persuade others to believe. We do not know. There is also speculation about this particular rich man. Not only is he rich, like the rich man in last week’s parable, but this rich man seems to be spectacularly rich. He is rich and he is also dressed in linen and fine purple, purple being a color associated with royalty. Just to make a quick modern connection with that color: Did you notice on Queen Elizabeth II’s coffin and on the high altar at Windsor Castle that the crown, the orb, and the scepter were placed on pillows of purple fabric? The rich man also “dined sumptuously each day”. It is one thing to be rich enough to eat well, but it is an entirely unique level of wealth to eat so well on a daily basis. The connection of purple to royalty and the spectacular wealth of this particular rich man has led some to speculate that this may be a veiled reference to King Herod Antipas. But again, we do not know.
Today’s parable gives us an illustration of what it can look like when we attempt to serve both God and mammon. Now very few of us may have a wealth equivalent to that described of this rich man, but each of us is quite wealthy compared to large swaths of humanity around the world. Whatever the bottom line of our own finances is, each of us can take a lesson from this parable about our relationship to wealth, the danger of complacency, and the call to be good stewards who use our treasure for others.
As children of God we are given gifts that we do not earn or deserve. We are given life and the offer of salvation. We are entrusted with gifts that are not ours to horde but to use in service of others. We are not made for ourselves. We are not enriched by gifts for ourselves. We are called together as a community, the Church, the family of God. We are our brother’s keeper. Furthermore, to respond to Christ’s calling in such a way that deserves heavenly reward, we cannot be indifferent to the needs of others around us. In his complacency with all the goods of this world, the rich man in the parable failed to notice and to respond to the needs of Lazarus who was right at his door, right in his view. After death, the rich man finds himself in a place of torment with a “great chasm” separating him from the place of blessing with God imaged as the “bosom of Abraham.” In this a stark lesson comes to light for us who still have time to change our own ways: We learn that whatever the distance between ourselves and God in the life to come just may be a reflection of the distance we put between ourselves and the poor in this life.
The rich man goes to a place of torment after death. But I think a powerful lesson for us and our calling to be stewards of our goods is to take note of what the rich man does not do. The parable doesn’t tell us that the rich man is an idolator. He doesn’t break the Sabbath. There is no evidence that he stole from anyone. We are not told that he is a liar, an adulterer, or a murderer. The parable simply describes that he lived a life of luxury and gluttony and that led him to be complacent in this life and it led him to fail to love his neighbor, imaged in the poor man Lazarus who was right at his door. In other words, this is a powerful lesson because the rich man is condemned to torment for a sin of omission. He didn’t commit the gravest of sins against the Ten Commandments. But he failed in charity. He failed to love his neighbor as himself. Luxury and ease can cause blindness and complacency. We learn in this parable how significant and weighty a thing it is to be called to use our resources and our wealth as a means to extend God’s generosity to others, as a means to serve and to care for the needy, whom we should not fail to notice.
We see this same lesson in the first reading too. The rich and powerful are visited with punishment and exile in today’s readings - not simply because of their wealth but for their refusal to share it; not for their power but for their indifference to the suffering at their doors. Those who are complacent and filled with much, such that they are prevented from realizing their own poverty and the need of others, will have nothing in the life to come. Complacency is the deadly enemy of a lively faith that must, according to St. Paul, “compete well” and strive to “lay hold of eternal life.”
With today’s readings ringing in our ears, in our minds, and in our hearts, some probing questions ought to come to mind. What comforts and complacencies do we need to be shaken out of? Will we let God’s Word in Scripture unsettle us and cause us to evaluate whether we are truly striving for holiness? Do we compete more for things of this life rather than competing to keep ourselves on the good side of the chasm between damnation and salvation? Do we sit by idly and allow our kids to be complacent about faith and discipleship, while keeping them fat on things that will not last? You see, unlike the rich man’s many brothers, we have not only Moses and the prophets to listen to but God Himself in the flesh – Jesus the Christ! Will we listen? Or will we find the distance we keep between ourselves and the needy and poor to be the distance between us and the kingdom of light, refreshment, and life in the world to come?
Dominica XXIII per Annum C
4 September 2022
The Lord gives a clear and stark lesson in today’s gospel: Calculate the cost of the project of following him. The lesson is stark because Jesus tells us to hate even valued family relationships and our own life. To come to him without such hate means we cannot be his disciple. If we had one of those street-side church message signs it might be cheeky to play off of this Gospel passage by displaying the message: “Jesus says: Hate others.” Yeah, it’s probably a good idea that we don’t have one of those message signs, right? I’d do nothing but get myself in trouble.
I have been calculating costs, and looking at our parish budget needs as I prepare some remarks on stewardship in a few weeks from now. I will admit it is hard to maintain a spiritual focus and an awareness of Christ’s presence when crunching budget numbers. It seems like such a drudgery and far from faith and the things of the Gospel. Should we then assume that calculating and counting costs is foreign to the faith? Not according to this Gospel.
Who experiences a cost to being the Lord’s disciple? Don’t we usually sort of act as if it is only the martyrs, or the apostles, or great saints – in other words, a select few – who pay a cost, while the vast majority of us live a less costly form of being Christian? But the gospel doesn’t let us get away with that idea. Notice Jesus’ words today are not a private lesson for a select few of his disciples. Rather, the gospel is clear that Jesus addresses this lesson about cost to everyone for he is speaking not to a select few but to “great crowds.” That’s what makes Jesus’ words so stark and all the more sobering. You know what that means? You and I are to experience a cost to following Jesus and choosing him above other relationships, above possessions, and even above our earthly life. If we refuse to experience that cost then we are not in fact being disciples of Jesus. And if we are acting like disciples in name only while refusing the cost, then we are as foolish as a tower builder who starts a project but doesn’t have enough money to complete it. We would be as irresponsible as a king marching in to battle with fewer troops than necessary to win the battle.
Now at this point I have let that word “hate” hang in the air long enough without comment or explanation. It is meant to be shocking. The word in Greek that St. Luke places on Jesus’ lips does literally mean “to hate”. But the context is important to understand shades of meaning. Looking at the context we can say that Jesus is using hyperbole in telling us to hate other relationships in order to be his disciple. In fact, the way to understand this hyperbole is that the Lord is saying we cannot prefer father, mother, wife and children, brothers, and sisters, and even our own life ahead of, or before, him. To be his disciple means that he is preferred above all else and that our relationship with him is the primary one that defines our life. You can look at other parallel passages in the other Gospels to help you understand the meaning. So, in this case, if we look at the parallel passage in St. Matthew’s Gospel (cf. Mt. 10:37) where the Lord gives this same lesson we find this wording: “He who loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; and he who loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me; and he who does not take his cross and follow me is not worthy of me.” By comparing these two passages we can see how it is a very similar teaching but it is less hyperbolic in St. Matthew’s version. So, don’t walk away this weekend thinking you are being instructed to literally hate others, much less those closest to you. But you also don’t get to walk away preferring those relationships to the Lord, not if you want to call yourself a disciple.
Do we admit a cost to following Jesus? Or do we operate as if there is no cost to discipleship? The Gospel today can inspire a type of examination of conscience. What does belonging to Christ totally, belonging to him completely, belonging to him first before all else, mean? What does it cost you in your family and with friends? Does it mean you live life in public and at home more intentionally as a Christian? Does it mean you live differently than those who say, “Lord, Lord,” on their lips, but who don’t follow the Lord in their actions? Among family and friends how is it visible that the Lord is your primary relationship? Does it mean you are intentional about prayer time at home for yourself and also together as a family? Can you calculate the hours spent on TV, entertainment, video games, and social media and draw some conclusions about how that might reveal some things are being placed ahead of the Lord?
Continuing this examination of conscience, what does being true to Jesus first cost you in a dating relationship or in marriage? Does it mean you will foster a sacrificial love that seeks and places the good of the other ahead of your own pleasures and self-interests? Does it mean avoiding the popular secular mindset that leads to cohabiting, living together before marriage? Does it mean forming a habit of praying out loud together as a couple? Does it mean guarding and observing chastity before marriage and, once married, observing chastity by being open to the gift of life?
In this examination of conscience we might ask, what does being a disciple cost you at school or at work? Does it mean letting yourself be known as a follower of the Lord in the halls of your school or work? Does it mean you shun crass jokes and the use of the Lord’s Name in vain, a shockingly common and grave sin these days? Does it mean trying to redirect conversations away from gossip? Does it mean finding ways to bring up faith and the Church among friends and acquaintances? Does it mean taking notice of someone at school or work who needs you to bring the compassion and heart of Christ to their burdens?
The Scriptures indicate that following Jesus does and must cost us something if it is authentic. A discipleship, a Christianity, that costs little or nothing is, when it comes down to it, a fantasy. To be a disciple is to carry one’s own cross and come after Jesus. We don’t get to claim to be disciples if we won’t carry a cross. In the light of today’s Gospel we can ask ourselves: What crosses do I need to carry? In what areas of life do I need to accept hardship for the Gospel? How ought I to live differently than the rest of the world lives? Calculate the cost! Have we calculated ANY cost? If following Jesus doesn’t cost me anything, who am I really following? Does following Christ cost any time? If so, do I give that time? Does it cost any talent? If so, do I use my skills and abilities willingly to serve? Does it cost me anything financially? If so, do I sacrifice for the good of this community, for my parish, for my neighbor? What does get my time, my talent, and my finances? Does it cost me relationships? If my friends and acquaintances seem to enjoy living in sin, acting entertained and amused by sin, or living apart from Christ, do I go along because I don’t want to take a stand and carry the cross? If we go along with false attempts at being disciples, what sort of tower would we be left with? If we attempt to take the cross out of following Christ what sort of troop losses would be scattered across the battlefield of life? When we try to convince ourselves of a cheap, cost-free discipleship the first reading reminds us that God’s wisdom, inspired by the Holy Spirit, is above our ways and that “the deliberations of mortals are timid.” We must be renewed in the message of today’s psalm that we adopt a heavenly wisdom to learn how to count our days: “Teach us to number our days aright, that we may gain wisdom of heart.”
Dominica XXI per Annum C
21 August 2022
For the past few weeks, and for one more still, we are hearing in the second reading from the Letter to the Hebrews. Two weekends ago Hebrews chapter 11 provided us with a litany of heroes of the faith, passing through Old Testament figures like Abel, Enoch, Noah, Abraham, Sarah, Isaac, Jacob, and Moses. That litany concludes however, not with an Old Testament figure but with the hero who is Jesus Christ, the “leader and perfecter of faith” (Heb. 12:2), the faithful son of the Father and the only perfect model to imitate. And more than only a model to imitate, the Lord Jesus is God, the source of our faith, and the Savior whose self-gift on the Cross and whose resurrection gives us hope of a glorious reward.
Hebrews chapter 12, from which we hear these few weeks provides three images for our understanding of what the Christian life is like. Last week’s image is that surrounded then by so great a cloud of witnesses – the Old Testament heroes of faith – we should have the perspective that Christian life is an endurance race. And so, we strive and persevere in running the race, cheered on by the heroes who have gone before us, their support and encouragement being like fans in a stadium surrounding us and urging us on to the finish line. This image and lesson of the endurance race gives us focus and hope. Motivated by a generalized protestant influence and, in some cases, even an anti-catholic bigotry, some will challenge and question and even reject our catholic appreciation of the communion of saints and the power and appropriateness of intercessory prayer – that we ask the saints to pray for us and we ourselves pray for one another. In the race of faith we have hope because we are not alone. How could one reject the communion of saints and the support of intercessory prayer when the Bible gives us such an image from Hebrews of being surrounded by a great multitude? We Christians run a race of faith in a stadium surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses – Old and New Covenant saints alike – and we’re supposed to believe that appeal to the saints and intercession diminishes the role of Jesus? Not at all. The finish line is Jesus himself and his kingdom. He is the one mediator who can bring salvation, yes. But, he accepts the involvement of others in this race. Our life with him is that of runners surrounded in a stadium, or that of a family, not just a “me and Jesus relationship”. The focus this image of the endurance race provides us is critical too. Often in life’s struggles and in our weakness and exhaustion we grow frustrated. The struggles and weaknesses are our own, they are the failures of people around us, they are the sins of our secular world, and the scandals and sins even within the flock from others in the Church. Our reaction to such disappointments and our exasperation reveals we are approaching Christian life as merely a sprint. Can’t the race be over, Lord? No, there are still some laps to go. And so strive and focus on your running. Remove the things that cling to you and weigh you down and slow down your pace. Most especially strive in the endurance race by being healed of sin.
The second image from Hebrews chapter 12 gives us the perspective that Christian life is a process of growth toward maturity, a growth and process of maturity that is guided through the discipline, administered lovingly, from our heavenly Father. Our sufferings and difficulties are valuable for training in holiness and so we should accept them for the good God can accomplish in us through them. Hebrews gives us this lesson centuries before the modern age and its tendency to award everyone a blue ribbon for participation, centuries before the chronic allergy to discipline. Perhaps our experience of discipline growing up can complicate our acceptance of this lesson. Hebrews is not condoning discipline poorly administered. But it is possible and valuable to have discipline administered not out of exasperation and annoyance but out of love. Such discipline well-administered is an act of love. It helps the one disciplined not give in to lesser things. It helps us become the best we can be and avoids settling for urges and lower motivations. The common phrase used in reference to physical activity that we accept so readily is true here in the spiritual marathon of discipleship too: “No pain, no gain.”
The third image from Hebrews chapter 12 about Christian life is that it is a joyous liturgical assembly raised aloft on God’s holy mountain where we are in the midst of angels and saints in worship of God. Given this joyful gathering after passing through life’s hardships, we are encouraged to strive and not to forfeit our heavenly reward. While we have much to endure in a long race and much suffering to accept as a sign of God’s love for us, we are not engaging and striving for something that is impossible or too far off for us. God Himself has brought the finish line, the reward, close to us. We are not going after something too far. It has been brought near. That is one incredible consequence of the Incarnation. God has come near to us! He has taken on our flesh. And thus, Jesus is near and remains so. He beckons us to him. The witnesses surrounding us cheer us on. Don’t we recognize that? We barely stretch upward to reach our goal before we discover that here is the liturgical participation in the far greater and generous movement God makes toward us. We must strive, yes, and use our freedom to cooperate with God’s discipline and grace, but the gulf between us and God has already been bridged in His generous movement to us in Christ Jesus. It is he – the Lord Jesus – who is our focus, our finish line, our reward. The stadium in this endurance race is filled with the cheers and prayers of saints who have endured, who know how to endure, and who know that with God’s grace and the support of their prayers we too can endure!
Homily for the Twenty-first Sunday in Ordinary Time by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading 1 Is 66:18-21
Responsorial Psalm Ps 117:1, 2
Reading 2 Heb 12:5-7, 11-13
Alleluia Jn 14:6
Gospel Lk 13:22-30
Dominica XX per Annum C
14 August 2022
The Gospel presents an image of Jesus that can seem out of place or unlikely. Certainly, many people in our day, including many Christians, find today’s Gospel image of Jesus incomprehensible. It is the image of Jesus who announces that he has come not for peace but for division. In modern culture there is great emphasis on the values of “unity” and “tolerance”, though those ideas often lack substance in the modern mind and are used simply to mean that differences and divisions should be overlooked in order to keep everyone together for the sake of keeping together. The idea that the Lord comes to stir things up is often outright dismissed as an impossibility. But then we have to face today’s Gospel passage.
In the Gospel the Lord refers to his mission. He notes that he has come to set the earth on fire and he notes that there is a baptism that he is in great anguish to accomplish. The reference to baptism calls to mind the image of water. And so, we have the symbols in today’s Gospel of both water and fire. In the ancient world, and especially familiar to us in the Scriptures, water and fire are symbols of destruction. We can think of the early events of creation in the Book of Genesis, of the disorder that sin brought into the world and how God’s response in the days of Noah was to send a great flood to destroy things and begin anew. Being plunged into, or immersed into, water is a symbol of being overwhelmed and drowned. Judgment. Destruction. And fire is also a clear symbol and is especially evocative of judgment and the end of things when Scripture makes reference to the world being consumed and dissolved by fire.
So, there is one obvious purpose when the Lord uses symbols of water and fire. He means to communicate that he has come to claim God’s sovereignty over His creation. That sovereignty and its demands for fidelity, especially from creatures like us with freedom, means we have a choice to make. And by it we will be judged. We must acknowledge God’s rights and primacy over us and all creation. We cannot prefer other things or other relationships to the one He has made with us. The primacy of relationship with God is brought to the fore by that image of division within family. We cannot live rightly with God or truly follow Him while also preferring other relationships ahead of him. Rather, the claim of sovereignty by the Lord means a father will be divided against his son, a mother against her daughter and so forth. We who call ourselves disciples have to weigh carefully the demands and the gift of being in relationship with God while also noting and taking care so that other relationships are nurtured, but do not become the excuse for disobedience to God. With the very common tendency to want to “fit in” in modern life we need to take this Gospel to heart because it can be very easy to be swept along with the mentalities of those who adopt a false Gospel that makes no demands on us.
The desire to fit in and to not be challenged, or to not be challenging, was a reality seen in the time of the Prophet Jeremiah too. Jeremiah received the tough mission to speak God’s word and to proclaim the infidelity of God’s people. He preached that God’s judgment would be seen in the destruction of the Temple. And for delivering those words, Jeremiah’s contemporaries complain that he is making them feel demoralized because they want to hear nice sounding words. And so, they set out to kill him to silence what they do not want to hear. There is really not much different today when the Church, or when you and I, try to stand for some truth of the faith or some truth of the moral order. One lesson of today’s passage is that we cannot dismiss God’s sovereignty or His judgment in our lives, in the lives of others, and His judgment of the world. That reality means we must face our own need for conversion and to shake ourselves out of the slumber of preferring other relationships to the one God generously establishes with us.
In no way dismissing the lesson of God’s primacy and judgment, I want to suggest also another lesson from the images of water and fire. This lesson is not the strange and cryptic sounding message of judgment and of destruction. I think another application can be made to our mission and responsibility as disciples. The Scriptures show that the Lord’s suffering and death for us are called his baptism. Rather than water, he is immersed and plunged into the guilt of our sin. He does this on our behalf and out of divine love for us. Having endured his baptism, his Cross, the Lord, like Jeremiah, is drawn out from the mud, the mire of our sins and our tendency to want to soften the demands of discipleship. Having suffered and died for us, he is drawn out from the place of death in his resurrection. And from his resurrected body in heaven the Lord sends forth the Holy Spirit who comes in tongues of fire at Pentecost. What if these odd sounding words from Jesus in today’s Gospel can also be heard as a reference to that sending of the Holy Spirit? In other words, Jesus endures his baptism and comes to set the earth on fire. For us looking back in history on those words we can say that he has already done so by sending the Holy Spirit. And you and I are recipients of that purifying and enveloping fire. What if we hear those cryptic sounding words – “I have come to set the earth of fire” – as an indication of our mission? Through his Church we each have received baptism and later confirmation. We are called to understand the primacy of our relationship with God and the share we have in enveloping the world with the truth of the Gospel. How will the world be set aflame if not through us and our zeal, dedication, and excitement to live the faith and to share with others what that means? Jesus’ use of fire imagery is not all that unfamiliar to us. While I certainly mean to avoid inappropriate and negative meanings, there are popular idioms today by which we speak of “lighting something up” or “being lit”. When someone is worked up in a good way or excited, we say they are “on fire.” And we have the convenient fire emoji to go along with sharing that description in text messages.
Yes, the work of being part of the Lord’s setting the earth on fire is part of our mission. If we ourselves are on fire we can’t help but light up others. That work will be challenging, certainly. Our age, as every age, does not want to hear moral or religious demands. Our age does not want to hear words that shake things up and expose the lack of substance in just “getting along”. We may face opposition like Jeremiah. But judgment will come to us if we do not pass on the fire. And when we find ourselves overwhelmed, plunged in the mire of opposition, or just plunged in the mire of our weakness and sin, we cry out with the psalmist: Lord, come to my aid! And we have confidence in the Lord’s response evoking images of Jeremiah: “The Lord heard my cry. He drew me out of the pit of destruction, out of the mud… [and] he made firm my steps.”
Homily for the Twentieth Sunday in Ordinary Time by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading 1 Jer 38:4-6, 8-10
Responsorial Psalm Ps 40:2, 3, 4, 18
Reading 2 Heb 12:1-4
Alleluia Jn 10:27
Gospel Lk 12:49-53
Dominica VIII Post Pentecosten (Extraordinary Form)
31 July 2022
This is one of those parables that likely has us scratching our heads and thinking, what am I missing here? Is the Lord really presenting sin and wrongdoing as a commendable trait? Did I just hear that correctly?
In today’s parable we hear that the unjust steward is commended. He’s called “wise.” We are encouraged to make friends with dishonest wealth. If sin is being celebrated and we are told to imitate it then… the last one out today please turn off the lights because we are wasting our time here.
Parables are famous for surprises and reversals. We can easily hear the things that make the steward sinful, his self-interest, his cheating of his master, his injustice in possessions that are not his own, his dishonesty. We can make an easy mistake thinking that our Blessed Lord is celebrating or commending this same wrong behavior. But we miss the point. There is subtlety we can miss if we are not careful to pay attention to what the Lord is teaching.
What is commended, encouraged, and set forth as an example to follow is the prudence of the steward in his effort to establish security for himself and a safe dwelling and livelihood when he knows his master is about to take it all away. This parable is clearly making a reference to the most important dwelling for any man to secure: the eternal dwelling of heaven!
In this strange-sounding parable, the idea is that if the children of this age are so motivated, so wise, so prudent to take decisive action when they are in a bind and face losing everything, how much more should God’s children be wise, prudent, motivated, and decisive when what is at stake is heaven, and not merely money, food, or a house?
Once you get past the surprise of thinking you are hearing the Lord commend sinfulness, the clear lesson here is that the things of this life will fail – the parable even explicitly says so – and yet still we take decisive action to guard such things and we try to store them up. But it passes away and does not follow us to the next life and does not benefit is there. Meanwhile what lasts is ignored. So be wise, prudent, motivated, and decisive to secure heaven and real treasure.
Don’t be confused. It is not being unjust or dishonest that is being set forth in the parable as an example to follow. Rather, what we are being called to model and copy is the prudence of the steward to take decisive action to attain godly life and salvation.
What spurs us on in this call to be prudent and prepare ourselves for lasting treasure is that our master is not a taskmaster. As the epistle to the Romans declared we are not in bondage and fear, but rather we call out to a master who is Abba, that is Father! And so we are called to be prudent and wise in preparing for our eternal dwelling. And we are called to have confidence that the master who calls us to stewardship is the God who has first bestowed upon us His love and all the goods we have. And so claimed for and marked by Christ in the waters of baptism, in sacred anointing in confirmation, and in our constant renewal in confession and Holy Communion we are “sons of God; and if sons, heirs also; heirs indeed of God, and joint hears with Christ.”
Homily for the Fifteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading 1 Dt 30:10-14
Responsorial Psalm Ps 69:14, 17, 30-31, 33-34, 36, 37
Reading 2 Col1:15-20
Alleluia Cf. Jn 6:63c, 68c
Gospel Lk 10:25-37
Dominica XV per Annum C
10 July 2022
The Book of Deuteronomy, from which comes today’s first reading, chronicles the desert wanderings of God’s people. God had drawn near to them and given them His law but they had disobeyed. And so, in punishment they are made to wander in the desert. That wandering was a punishment for a rebellious generation who would not be permitted to enter the Promised Land. The wandering was also a preparation for the next generation to be ready to be obedient and to be identified by adherence to God’s Law. Thus, as the punishment comes to an end and a new generation of God’s people is ready to cross into the Promised Land, Moses re-states God’s Law to them a second time. Moses restates God’s Law because the next generation must understand that to belong to God and to be His people is to be marked by the way of life of His commands. Moses tells the people that God’s ways are not too mysterious or remote for them. In other words, God has come near. His ways and commands are in accord with our wellbeing. His ways are made for us and for our good. Fast forward centuries when Jesus says, “My yoke is easy and my burden is light” (Mt. 11:28-30)… That’s what the Lord means. His ways are not harmful to us. Just like a yoke must be crafted well to guide an ox without causing friction and physical harm, so God’s ways are made for us. In today’s passage from Deuteronomy, Moses is telling the people that moral living according to God’s ways is not too complicated. It can be understood and grasped by us.
Yet, it can feel difficult to obey God’s commands. Every one of us has some area of moral life that is a struggle, something that continues to be a difficulty. This common human experience is due to our fallen nature. That giving up our disobedient and rebellious ways and conforming ourselves to God’s ways is challenging is not a sign that God’s ways are too remote for us. Rather, it is a sign that our fallen nature deceives us and makes us inclined to choose what is the easiest path for us, the one that seems lucrative or satisfying or fulfilling, or simply the path that requires less effort and work. In our time, the awareness and acceptance is disintegrating of a common natural moral law that unites all of us who share one human nature, because we come from the same Creator and origin of moral law. And thus, it can seem somehow as if God’s commands really are remote and mysterious and too far out of our reach. Just as a physical muscle weakens and atrophies from lack of use, so our moral muscle weakens and atrophies when we refuse discipline and choose to be complacent about sin in our lives. If we are not actively seeking to convert and change patterns of sin, then not only do we give in to sin more, but in time even our very ability to grasp moral truth becomes more and more clouded. And as this process transpires we replace the moral authority of God expressed in nature and in revelation with something else. Something that seems more within our reach. And what is that? Well, often it is ourselves. We often choose ourselves as the authority and the reference point for morality. Our ways, the ways of our fallen nature, seem nearer and easier to grasp. And many a person does grasp at that. And when you consider the number of human beings on the planet, you can see how quickly a common morality disintegrates and divides, atomizing into multiple and competing moral authorities. And the result is that the only authority is me and my truth.
There is sickness in fallen humanity, a sickness that can grasp each of us and lead us to place ourselves at the center of moral authority. Now, that is not the happiest of messages. But it is important to grasp as a foundational truth of our human struggle in this valley of tears, as we call it in the Salve Regina. Another way to say this, is that we cannot adequately appreciate the good news of the doctrine of grace and redemption, and the call to conversion, if we do not first acknowledge the foundation of Original Sin. You and I are sinners. But we are loved by God and called to life with Him. We need medicine and a physician. And we need to cooperate with the ways the Lord offers to heal us. There is an obvious ethical lesson in the Gospel parable of the Good Samaritan. It is a call to love one’s neighbor. And love is not only words, but also deeds. Yet, for my purposes today I want to draw your attention to an interesting interpretation among several Church Fathers going back to the second century by which the parable was seen to have an allegorical value in that the Good Samaritan was seen to represent Jesus and the man who fell victim to robbers represents humanity suffering under sin. For example, St. Irenaeus says that human nature “had fallen in with robbers, but he [the Lord] had pity on it and bound its wounds.” Origen writes, “The man who was going down is Adam…. The Samaritan is Christ…. He carries the half-dead man, and brings him to … the Church.” St. Augustine, son of our parish patroness writes, “The whole human race, you see, is that man who was lying in the road, left there by bandits half dead, who was ignored by the passing priest and Levite, while the passing Samaritan stopped by him to take care of him and help him…. In this Samaritan the Lord Jesus Christ wanted us to understand himself.” St. Augustine adds, “Robbers have left you half-dead on the road; but you’ve been found lying there by the passing and kindly Samaritan. Wine and oil have been poured into you, you have received the sacrament of the Only-begotten Son; you have been lifted on his mule, you have believed that Christ became flesh; you have been brought to the inn, you are being cured in the Church” (cf. The Gospel of Luke, Catholic Commentary on Sacred Scripture, sidebar “Jesus the Good Samaritan,” Pablo T. Gadenz , p.213).
There is a sickness in our fallen human nature. God’s commands are part of the medicine. And His ways are not too far or mysterious. But if we are not careful and disciplined in conversion, not only do we fail by sin but soon even our ability to see the truth of morality is clouded. Jesus, the Good Samaritan, is himself the measure of what our charity should be. I say this as a preface and warning for some of the abundant sickness we see in our world today. We have to be on guard lest we become our own worst enemy, sinking to the lowest common moral denominator. I hope this doesn’t seem unfair to use as an example, but a recent trip to California gave me some vivid images of what is possible in our sick humanity when man replaces the common moral law from God with man’s own desires.
On the day the Supreme Court decision overturning the Roe v. Wade abortion decision was released, I was on a plane bound for a conference in the San Francisco Bay Area. Talk about flying into the mouth of the lion! In the Bay Area it was not uncommon to see handmade posters in the windows of houses with the message “Shame on SCOTUS.” One piece of spray-painted graffiti read, “Abortion is good; Abolish guns.” Driving along one highway some protestors had assembled on an overpass holding poster board reading, “My body, my choice.” To give you a sense of some of the hostility in the area, one morning at breakfast with a couple priests, we noticed two men in the outdoor seating area. They had a large dog and as we stood to leave, one of the priests approached the two patrons and began to say, “I love your dog.” One of the men began waving the priest away and said, “Move along.” The priest thought the man was trying to prevent the dog from being startled, which caused the man to say, “No, not the dog. We don’t like you. Move along.” The most noteworthy experience was the group of 30 protestors who showed up outside the church where the Archbishop of San Francisco was celebrating Mass for the conference. I guess wherever the Archbishop goes protestors find their way to disrupt things. Among some ugly things and cheap accusations, the protestors were chanting, “We rebuke you, Catholic Church,” and “Abortion on the Demand, without apology.” Over and over: “Abortion on Demand, without apology.” Think about that. That is really sick. As if abortion is as inconsequential as going to CVS for aspirin or to 7-Eleven for an icee.
The dynamic nature of our gift of freedom and the call to live moral life in God contains within it the power to become saints reigning together with God or to become degenerate practitioners of the worst evils. God’s ways are not too mysterious. He has come near, taking on our flesh, to show us our dignity and to open the path for healing and eternal life. We have to cooperate and discipline our unruly nature. God loves each of those people I saw in California and the thousands more they represent, just as He loves each of us and all creation. Those and so many other souls who are locked in secular ideology and who stand in opposition to Judeo-Christian moral truth, are loved by God too. His ways are not too far for them to grasp, but they need living examples of such obedience. God has given His law on stone tablets once in history. But our world needs living tablets, like us (disciples), to show the way to live God’s commands. May we find a renewed drive to combat our sins and to live in the healing that our Good Samaritan offers us. And may our way of life help to serve as light so that a very wounded world and troubled souls can find the medicine of eternal life.
Homily for The Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading I Gn 14:18-20
Responsorial Psalm Ps 110:1, 2, 3, 4
Reading II 1 Cor 11:23-26
Alleluia Jn 6:51
Gospel Lk 9:11b-17
Sollemnitas Corpus Christi
19 June 2022
This weekend we have the gift of the observance of the Solemnity of Corpus Christi, placing our focus on giving thanks to God for that distinct aspect of our Catholic faith received from Christ and the Apostles, by which we profess belief that the Lord desires to remain with us in such a way that he is truly with us in his Real Presence, and that he nourishes us by giving himself to us in the Holy Eucharist. It is our catholic faith that the bread and wine at a Catholic Mass are transformed in their substance by the power of God so that they become the Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity of the Lord.
A very important yet simple lesson about Eucharistic practice can be learned by observing the pattern of how a person is prepared to receive Holy Communion the first time. When we prepare to receive Holy Communion for the first time we must be healed of the sins that separate us from communion with the Lord. In other words, it is just plain logic that if we are not living a communion with the Lord then we are not able or eligible to receive Holy Communion. We live in communion with the Lord in three primary, critical ways that the Church has identified since ancient times: (1) by first entering life with him by baptism, (2) by sharing a communion of faith in our acceptance of Catholic doctrine, and (3) by maintaining a communion with the Lord in our moral life by the observance of his commands and the rejection of sin. This pattern of preparation for Holy Communion is easily seen in about the second grade. In that momentous year for a young catholic soul, children are prepared for their First Holy Communion. But before that, they make their first confession so that, being healed of sin, their reception of Holy Communion may carry the full sign value of first living a communion with the Lord by their moral life. This pattern teaches all of us something that needs to be recalled: the healing of sin and the reception of Holy Communion go together and are intricately tied to one another. This pattern does not change for us as we age and get further and further away from the day of our First Holy Communion. We are always called to examine ourselves and so to live in such a way that grave sin does not impede our communion with the Lord and our eligibility to receive Holy Communion. Thus, the regular practice of confession and our repentance of sin is critical to our reverence for the Lord’s Real Presence and our participation in Holy Communion.
So many examples in history teach us the truth of our faith in the Holy Eucharist and our necessary practice regarding it. St. Paul, in First Corinthians, remarks that a communicant should examine himself carefully and that to take Holy Communion in an unworthy manner is to profane, not mere bread, but the Body of the Lord. He goes on to say that to take Holy Communion unworthily is to bring judgment upon oneself (cf. 1 Cor. 11:27-30). St. Justin, martyred by the Roman Empire in about the year 165, wrote to explain the practice of the early Catholics and reveals the harmony of faith received from St. Paul and still held today. Namely, St. Justin indicates that reception of Holy Communion is not simply open to all, but requires that one first enter and maintain a communion of sacramental practice, a communion of accepting doctrine, and a communion of one’s moral life. No one outside of that, he says, may gather with Christians or receive the Eucharist. Notice how this “closed communion,” as it is often called, applies to non-catholics and also Catholics alike. It applies equally to anyone whose communion with the Lord is not first established by those important measures: sacramental communion by baptism, communion of doctrine with the teaching of Christ and his Church, and communion of moral life. St. Cyprian, who died in about the year 258, writes similarly. In his treatise on the Lord’s Prayer he writes the following, “Now, we who live in Christ and receive his eucharist, the food of salvation, ask for this bread to be given us every day. Otherwise we may be forced to abstain from this communion because of some serious sin. In this way we shall be separated from the body of Christ…” (Liturgy of the Hours, Office of Readings, Thursday of the Eleventh Week in Ordinary Time, vol.3, p.371-372).
Keeping in mind our authentic faith about the Holy Eucharist and what is required to receive it, listen to what St. Thomas Aquinas wrote in a prayer of thanksgiving to be said after Holy Mass. He wrote, “I pray that this Holy Communion may not be for me an offense to be punished, but a saving plea for forgiveness.” If the Holy Eucharist were only bread and if it did not require that one first maintain a proper moral life, those would be strange words, right? How would Holy Communion be an offense to be punished? Well, if it were taken unworthily, that’s how. Therefore, the debate about public figures at odds with Church teaching and practice being told they cannot receive Holy Communion is not a mean injustice or some new idea by a bishop. It is completely consistent with our faith in what the Holy Eucharist actually is. And the same applies to us. The ways in which we are not prepared to receive Holy Communion may not be as publicly known as someone like a politician, but notice that we must self-police and take ourselves to confession as part of our preparation to commune with the Lord in the Blessed Sacrament of the altar. The pattern of being healed of serious sin always precedes our reception of Holy Communion.
Finally, I want to say some words about how we adopt more traditional practices of worship at this parish. Surveys over the past decades will show that an alarming number of self-described Catholics do not hold authentic Catholic doctrine on the Holy Eucharist. They will often erroneously describe the Holy Eucharist as mere bread and wine, or as a symbol of Jesus, or a representation of his body and blood. I can’t explain to you all the reasons why so many Catholics have lost faith in the Holy Eucharist. But I do believe that one key reason, often overlooked, is the manner in which the Mass itself is often conducted. Over the past decades, along with some positive options and possibilities for how the Mass is celebrated, there have also been many abuses that have crept in, along with practices in some places that are novelties not called for by the Church. The way the Mass is celebrated – how we pray – impacts our faith. It can impact our faith positively and negatively. Since authentic faith in the Holy Eucharist has lessened over these more recent decades, it seems to me that recapturing those legitimate options of past decades when faith was stronger is one answer to lacking faith. Let’s examine this principle with something other than the Mass. Think of the most important event of your life, maybe your wedding day. Don’t we expect the bride and groom to be the center of focus? Would it change things if they were pushed off to the side and rarely acknowledged? Of course, it would. Would it be your dream to celebrate your wedding with paper plates for your reception? Probably not. Would the reception “feel” differently with paper plates versus real plates? Would guests dress and behave differently if they knew the event was disposable versus something like a sit-down banquet? You bet. Those are simple examples to illustrate that how we observe or celebrate something impacts what we think about it. The same is true here (in the sanctuary at Holy Mass). That’s why I think recapturing traditional practices like quiet prayer, solemn worship, folded hands, the posture of the priest and the people facing the Lord together instead of standing on opposite sides of the altar looking at each other, appropriate sacred music, communion patens, and emphasizing reception of Holy Communion on the tongue are all important things for communicating the truth of the faith we gather to proclaim. These are not trivial or incidental matters. Casual practice results in casual attitudes which results in casual faith. All this impacts us. It is my hope that in our own little corner of the Church we are doing everything we can to communicate in every gesture here that we believe the Lord is truly present, Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity in the Holy Eucharist. Formed in proper catholic faith by worship here, may we go out to share with others that the Lord is in our midst and that here we can truly behold the Lamb of God!
Dominica Pentecostes
4 & 5 June 2022
This weekend we come to the climax and the conclusion of the holy season of Easter with the Solemnity of Pentecost, the fulfillment of Jesus’ resurrection promise to send the Holy Spirit.
The Holy Spirit is called and known as the “spirit of truth” (cf. Jn. 14:16-17; Jn. 15:26-27; Jn. 16:12-13). At his arrest and interrogation, the Lord said to Pilate “For this I was born, and for this I have come into the world, to bear witness to the truth. Every one who is of the truth hears my voice” (cf. Jn. 18:37). Pilate famously asked, “What is truth?” (Jn. 18:38). The Lord promised to send the Holy Spirit of truth, to be another Advocate to his disciples, for his Church, that the Church might be led into all truth and that the Church might be a sure guide of the teachings of the Lord.
In this fallen world, the Father of lies has a certain dominion. And thus, there is ample evidence throughout human history that man can reject truth, and has rejected truth, when it conflicts with the desires of his own fallen nature. Our own time in history just might be among the most noteworthy examples of how man perverts the truth. The observance of our Catholic life finds a counter-example to the trends of falsehood that surround us. How the month of June begins is an excellent example. On June 1, the Church recalls the holy example and martyr’s death of St. Justin. He was beheaded in the year 165 under the Roman Emperor Marcus Aurelius. His martyrdom came after he refused to renounce his commitment to Jesus and after he explained to the pagan Roman authorities that true worship is owed and given to God alone, who is Jesus Christ, and that he would not submit to false worship by offering sacrifice to pagan gods. St. Justin stood firm against the falsehood and the demands from his governing authorities. He is one of the earliest examples we have of what the life and worship of the Church was like. On June 3, the Church recalls St. Charles Lwanga and his companions, all martyrs of Uganda. This group of young men, all in their teens and twenties were martyred much more recently in history, in the year 1886. They were pages in the royal court where the king had absolute authority. What was it about their Catholic faith that put them at odds with their king? Principal among the problems was that their catholic faith and its moral requirements put them at odds with the king’s demands that the page boys participate in his unnatural vice, that the boys minister to him for his pleasure. I assume you get the reference. False worship, the worship of civil authority and its demands, and the practice of false and immoral sexuality mark the stories of the martyrs we recall at the head of June. How providential, then, is the witness of our catholic faith because not a one of us can miss what June has become in our time due to man’s fallen pride.
I realize that there is a chance that not everyone will like or agree with what I am saying today. But what I am saying is what the Church teaches. And it needs to be said in our confused world. Furthermore, I believe I will be judged at the end of my life by whether I was silent in the face of cultural confusion and lies or whether I was faithful in being a witness to the truth, the truth guaranteed by the Holy Spirit. Too many a person is silent in the face of lies. And that tendency isn’t getting us anywhere that is good. So often we remain silent when we are uncomfortable in polite company. Too many a Christian is silent in the voting booth by choosing those who convey lies. We are silent when we go along with the cultural elites and simply let them form our minds, and the minds of our children, in the media and in entertainment. The Spirit of truth, the Holy Spirit, has been given by the Risen Lord to confirm us as bold witnesses to the truth. That is still needed in our time too. And being such a witness is a gift to the world so that it may come to know the Lord and, turning from falsehood and sin, might have the hope of salvation. This is a service that the Church is supposed to give to the world. Let’s not forget, this is a service that you and I are supposed to give to the world. The Lord did not send us the Holy Spirit in vain!
The recent news of the Archbishop of San Francisco and Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi puts a spotlight on the cultural battle between truth and falsehood and the role of the Church. Speaker Pelosi makes frequent public comment about her catholic faith. She also is consistent in a manifest and obstinate support and promotion of abortion. Those two things do not in any way go together. After behind-the-scenes conversations between the Archbishop and the Speaker, spanning some very patient ten years, and seeing only that the Speaker has become more vocal in promoting abortion and even seeking to codify abortion in federal law, the Archbishop, as the chief shepherd of her soul in her home diocese and as the highest authority over the sacramental life there, made a twofold public declaration: That the Speaker (1) is not to present herself to receive Holy Communion, and, (2) if she were to present herself, the minister should not admit her to Holy Communion but should refuse that sacrament. And, he said, this is to remain in place until such time as she publicly repudiates the scandal of her advocacy for abortion and until such time as she repairs the grave matter for her own soul by confessing this sin and receiving absolution.
Now there are many things that would be worth highlighting in this episode, things that touch upon truth and how our culture adopts lies, and that touch upon our knowledge of the Catholic faith. However, I will focus only on three lessons.
First: Is this episode with the Archbishop and the Speaker something to celebrate? We need to be careful here and to make some distinctions. It is all too common that a self-professed catholic adopts personal behaviors and public positions in direct odds with the clear doctrine of the Church on a grave matter. We do not take delight when anyone must incur a punishment for such sin and incongruity. We can celebrate that, upon completing the demands of charity and justice with his attempts to help guide a soul, an archbishop has taken a courageous and difficult stand. We can celebrate that the truth of catholic teaching on the dignity of unborn human life has been put in the spotlight. Since receiving Holy Communion requires in advance that we live a moral life free from grave sin and observe a union with Christ and his Church, we can celebrate that sacrilege has been reduced in that a person in grave public sin has been instructed not to receive Holy Communion in that position. But, let’s be clear, this is a sad episode and we do not want to appear to take delight in it. It would have been nice, much nicer indeed, had a catholic politician been on the forefront of defending innocent life in the womb. Perhaps, by God’s grace, in some way in the future this very action by the Archbishop might lead to that.
Second: This episode is an opportunity to teach on a very serious misunderstanding that exists about catholic moral teaching. If you have followed this story, you have heard the response that goes something like this: “Well, the Church leaders are inconsistent in this because the Church is against the death penalty too and yet they don’t go after politicians who support that.” Comments like that reveal a very serious lack of formation about the moral teaching on what is called intrinsic evil. The notion of intrinsic evil means that certain matters are so disordered within themselves that there is never an application of that matter that will result in an acceptable moral good. It’s like saying that some matters are so rotten at the very root that they will never produce a good. Abortion, which is the direct, intentional killing of an innocent unborn human life is an intrinsic evil in our moral teaching. It is never acceptable. It is always wrong. It is a grave evil. It is, within itself, at the very root, by its very nature, a moral evil. That is what it means to call something an intrinsic evil. The death penalty on the other hand, while a serious matter, as all matters involving the dignity of life are serious, has never been classified as an intrinsic evil in our moral tradition. Thus, it is important to take note here that immediately we have an important difference in the ranking of the life issues of abortion and the death penalty. They are not issues of equal moral weight. Yet, that is how they are often treated in common conversation. This is often the sleight of hand that many a pro-abortion politician will use by questioning why the Church does not come down equally as hard on those who seem to be in favor of the death penalty. Now why has the death penalty not been described as an intrinsic evil in our moral tradition? Why, dare I say, it will never be declared that in our moral tradition? It is because what the Scriptures, the Word of God, reveal to us that the death penalty can have a legitimate and just application and that the State does indeed have the authority to meet out such punishment. That is why our moral teaching does not classify the death penalty as intrinsically evil and why it is not equal in gravity to abortion. The death penalty is clearly quite different than abortion in that, at least in theory, the death penalty is punishment of the guilty. Now, I want to be clear, I am not stating that a catholic should favor the death penalty. I am in agreement with the Church’s more recent development here that where the State can both protect society by securely imprisoning a dangerous person, and, at the same time, reverencing that person’s human dignity (even that of the criminal), then the State ought to limit itself by not going to the length of the death penalty. There are legitimate concerns about the application of the death penalty in that there can be wrongful convictions. But notice, it is a far different thing to note the intrinsic evil of abortion and to note that the State does have the authority to punish with death but ought to put a restriction on itself. This important distinction is lost in a good amount of public discussion on these topics.
Third: This episode highlights often-misunderstood practice regarding reception of Holy Communion. One TV personality in entertainment said that the Archbishop acted in a way that is not his job to tell Pelosi this because, the personality said, communion is the “bread of sinners”. It is the bread of sinners, by which we mean the food of those many (most of us, right?) who are struggling with smaller or venial sins as we come forward at Mass, but who have confessed our more serious sins. But supporting and promoting abortion is grave, not venial. When we are in mortal sin we are actually spiritually dead. And dead people do not eat. So, the bread of sinners, yes. The bread of dead people? No!
I have spent a good amount of time in this more topical sermon raising the falsehood and error that surrounds us in our society, often at the urging of government authority and the coercive power of media and entertainment. We have our own experience, though inverted, of the biblical story of the Tower of Babel. We use common language and words but they have been emptied of their proper meanings by the progressive agenda. The falsehood and perversion is evident in words and phrases like “choice,” “reproductive health care,” “love is love,” “pride,” “gender affirming care.” It is total babble and our culture is being turned into a desert wasteland. But, we of catholic faith celebrate the Holy Spirit, a river of living water (cf. Jn. 7:37-39), who brings life to dry bones as the Prophet Ezekiel said (cf. Ezek. 37:1-14). We have been given the Holy Spirit to lead us to all truth and to face situations and topics that the apostles at that first Pentecost never would have imagined. More than that, we have been given the Holy Spirit to dwell within us and to animate our bold and charitable witness to Christ and to the truth. At the end of each Holy Mass, having been filled with God’s Word that we listen to here, receiving grace through communal prayer, and having been nourished by the Holy Eucharist (assuming one is in a state of grace), then you are sent out into the world: Go forth, the Mass is ended. You are sent out not to be silent, but to proclaim the Kingdom of God. You have not been given a cowardly spirit, but one of courage. And so filled with these gifts and the very Spirit of God, give the world what it needs: the Holy Spirit of truth!
Dominica Post Ascensionem (Extraordinary Form)
29 May 2022
IN THE NAME OF THE FATHER, AND OF THE SON, AND OF THE HOLY GHOST. AMEN.
In the mystery of the Ascension of the Lord, properly observed this past Thursday, we reflect that it was an integral part of our Blessed Lord’s mission to take up his resurrected Body, our very flesh, into the life of Heaven and to return with our flesh to his rightful place within the life of the Blessed Trinity. We observe in the Ascension a type of farewell. But not a farewell that amounts to being abandoned or the Lord being distant. No, he tells his Church, “I will not leave you orphans” (cf. John 14:18), and “I tell you the truth: it is to your advantage that I go away” (cf. John 16:7a). Perhaps it is not immediately obvious how the Ascension is not an abandonment and how it would be better for the Lord’s disciples that he go away. Those disciples who walked the earth with the Lord certainly seemed downcast and ill at ease, perhaps a revelation of the same limitations of mind that caused them to feel as if an abandonment was taking place. But the Lord continued with further words adjoined to that last quote that tell us why this farewell and departure was an integral part of the Lord’s saving mission: “I tell you the truth: it is to your advantage that I go away, for if I do not go away, the Counselor will not come to you; but if I go, I will send him to you” (cf. John 16:7). The Counselor, a name for the Holy Spirit of truth, will not come to the Church in the way the Lord intends unless he goes away. With this critical lesson in mind, then, we might say that the departure, the farewell, of the Ascension, in part, permits the Lord’s presence to pass into the sacraments, which means his presence, power, and life will be with all disciples in all places in all times, no longer limited to one time in history in ancient Palestine. And furthermore, this departure and farewell means that the Lord’s presence can come to actually dwell within disciples who prepare themselves to receive His seven-fold gifts. And thus, the farewell of the Ascension is not an abandonment but the opportunity for a deeper indwelling of God.
The promised Holy Spirit of truth is often imaged as the mutual self-giving Trinitarian Love exchanged between the Father and the Son. “God is love” (cf. 1 Jn. 4:8), says St. John. As we pray in these days for a renewed outpouring of the Holy Spirit, which we will observe at Pentecost, we recall that the awaited Holy Spirit is the fullness of charity. And so, the epistle of this Holy Mass charges us in this time of watchful prayer to “have a constant mutual charity among yourselves: for charity covers a multitude of sins” (1 Pt. 4:7-8). Charity, love, covers a multitude of sins. We are familiar with that idea. And it is most often understood as an admonition that benefits each of us in our interactions with one another. In other words, the idea most immediately understood is that the sins “covered” by charity are those of the person who loves. Expressed differently, if I have charity, if I love, my many sins are covered and I have the hope of God’s mercy because of my charity. That is well and good and true. It is a new testament proverb. Yet, it is interesting that this new testament admonition, has an Old Testament root in the Book of Proverbs where that Hebrew proverb says, “Hatred stirs up strife, but love covers all offenses” (Proverbs 10:12). What is interesting to note, is that the Hebrew interpretation of this proverb was different. I suggest we can borrow that Hebrew interpretation and, thus, have a fuller more amplified understanding of the admonition to have charity. The Hebrew interpretation of that proverb was directed toward the people being loved. In other words, whereas we often consider charity covering the sins of the one doing the loving, the Hebrews understood it as the sins of those being loved who were being covered. Charity goes outward toward those persons being loved and helps to cover their offenses.
That is the focus I want to suggest today. That is the direction of charity I want to highlight today for a more amplified understanding of charity. In our day and age, how different would things be if Christians believed that their charity was going outward to the recipients of their love and covering the faults of those to whom charity is shown? This is a facet of charity and its power to cover sin that I want to highlight because we all know well how many a person has adopted an inadequate and impotent notion of charity in our time. In our society we “go along to get along”. We don’t want anyone to feel uncomfortable with truth that demands something of them. Those ubiquitous “COEXIST” bumper stickers speak the contemporary gospel and many a person is lulled into a slumber of damnation thinking that “being nice” and “keeping the peace” will result in the virtues that please God and will be the mark of charity that cover one’s own sins. But what if we viewed charity from that more amplified perspective? If we received the gifts of the Holy Spirit and understood our charity as covering the offenses of others, might we be more willing to speak the truth? Might we have the perspective to act in a bold and truthful charity believing that it was an act of love and hope that gives others, that is, the recipients of our love, the greater possibility of salvation? I suggest this understanding, adopting this fuller appreciation of how charity covers a multitude of sins, is an antidote to our time. Furthemore, it can serve to give us the impetus to do the very thing that Jesus said in the Gospel passage today. He promised the Spirit of truth, who proceeds from the Father, who will give testimony to him. And the Lord adds, that his disciples should give testimony as well. If we believe we have been given the Spirit of truth, the very presence of the God Who is Love, then shouldn’t we understand and embrace the call to give testimony to the Lord? And to do so, in charity, so that others may have the hope of God’s mercy and the offer of salvation? Yes, the impotent approach to charity by which we keep our mouths shut so that no one feels uncomfortable has had its day and it was never true to begin with. Lord knows, generations have been misinformed and deformed by that false charity. We celebrate that recently a bishop of our country has finally spoken up and issued a sanction of a politician who obstinately promotes abortion. But even that has taken, frankly, far too long. While it was a just and the right decision, we would be foolish to think that the very episode itself doesn’t tell us how far off we are from receiving the Spirt of truth and living in authentic charity. Building a society, a culture, a generation of authentic and amplified charity begins here and now with you and with me. As we pray in preparation for Pentecost, we know the Lord has not abandoned us but sends the Holy Spirit to dwell within us. May we so desire that others have the hope of salvation that we share the Spirit of truth with them in a charity that is authentic and mutual.
IN THE NAME OF THE FATHER, AND OF THE SON, AND OF THE HOLY GHOST. AMEN.
Homily for Pentecost Sunday by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading I Acts 2:1-11
Responsorial Psalm Ps 104:1, 24, 29-30, 31, 34
Reading II 1 Cor 12:3b-7, 12-13
Gospel Jn 20:19-23
Sequence Veni, Sancte Spiritus
Come, Holy Spirit, come!
And from your celestial home
Shed a ray of light divine!
Come, Father of the poor!
Come, source of all our store!
Come, within our bosoms shine.
You, of comforters the best;
You, the soul’s most welcome guest;
Sweet refreshment here below;
In our labor, rest most sweet;
Grateful coolness in the heat;
Solace in the midst of woe.
O most blessed Light divine,
Shine within these hearts of yours,
And our inmost being fill!
Where you are not, we have naught,
Nothing good in deed or thought,
Nothing free from taint of ill.
Heal our wounds, our strength renew;
On our dryness pour your dew;
Wash the stains of guilt away:
Bend the stubborn heart and will;
Melt the frozen, warm the chill;
Guide the steps that go astray.
On the faithful, who adore
And confess you, evermore
In your sevenfold gift descend;
Give them virtue’s sure reward;
Give them your salvation, Lord;
Give them joys that never end. Amen.
Alleluia.
Dominica V Paschae C
15 May 2022
As a priest I have had many opportunities to be with people who are near death due to terminal illness or very advanced age. The knowledge that your life is near its end is at once sobering and clarifying. Knowledge that death is approaching helps put things in perspective. It helps clarify what is most important; what a person most wants to be known for; the legacy a person wants to leave behind.
Jesus faced this very situation in the gospel selection of this Mass. Today’s gospel from St. John comes from the chapters describing the Lord’s Last Supper with his apostles. Jesus knew his earthly life was near its end. In fact, he told his apostles he earnestly desired to celebrate this final Passover with them and that he would not celebrate it again until he had entered his Kingdom. In the course of that meal where Jesus gave us the gift of his Body and Blood the Lord was in his final hours of life on earth, preparing for his departure through death, and for his glorification in resurrection.
In his final words to his apostles Jesus gives them a new commandment: love one another. Jesus determines that the command to love one another is the most critical topic he must address in his final hours of earthly life. Given the dramatic scene of being near the point of his departure, we can say that it is critically important that we accept those words from the Lord. And his call is not to some generic, undefined love. Rather he says, “As I have loved you, so you also should love one another.” His apostles would understand what that command requires when in hours of having spoken those words they would see Jesus love them to the end and lay down his life for them even though their betrayal and denial did not deserve that type of love. This is the pattern of Jesus’ own love. This is the pattern Jesus calls them to model. They are to love one another in the laying-down-your-life kind of love that Jesus models.
Through the gospel Jesus is imparting to us the same legacy, the same critical lesson. What’s more, in following his style of love, Jesus says people will know that we are his disciples. Do we think people will know we are disciples because they see us walking into or out of church on the weekends? Do we think that people will know we are disciples because we identify ourselves as Christians? Do we think people will know we are disciples because we have a crucifix or some religious symbol somewhere? Jesus says people will know we are disciples if we have love for one another – the type of love he modeled.
The word “disciple” refers to a student or a learner. For followers of the Lord, being a student or a learner is no mere academic pursuit, or something that exists only in the mind. To believe and to be a believer certainly involves an intellectual assent of the mind to the truths God reveals. But it would be a mistake to think being a disciple is shown only by an assent of the mind. One can believe something in the mind while not letting that belief impact choices, the way one lives. We hear these dichotomies a lot, don’t we? It is popular for many a person to indicate they believe things about God and faith but to never do anything about it. I have met people who believe and who share Christian faith sincerely, but who have never been baptized. Yet, the Scriptures are very clear that faith and baptism are how one enters life in Christ and becomes a Christian. We all know people who make the distinction saying they are spiritual but not religious, they believe but resist being part of the Church. But Jesus says, people will know you are my disciples if you love one another. I can tolerate a whole lot of people I never have to interact with… you can say the same, right? But for Jesus to command “love one another” immediately takes discipleship out of a “me and my personal Lord and Savior” category and places it in a communal arena. If you love one another people will know you are my disciples.
There is no doubt that being a disciple of the Lord means that we make an intellectual assent to his teachings. But the Lord won’t let us get away with that alone. Speaking these words at the Last Supper, the Lord will put that love into action the very next day on the Cross. We often point to the heart as being the center of what drives us and our actions, our will. We learn in this Gospel passage that keeping the Lord in the realm of the mind and head belief is not enough. To be sure, our mind must conform to the Lord’s teachings. But our actions, our will, is also critical for showing that we are disciples, students, learners of our Master. This is how the Lord says people will know we are his disciples: if we love one another. A belief put into action is what the Scriptures call us to. May our correct belief of the mind be visible also in our actions. In this way our belief changes us and becomes a light to others so that they might join us in becoming students in the Church, this school of the Lord’s service.
Homily for the Fifth Sunday of Easter by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading I Acts 14:21-27
Responsorial Psalm Ps 145:8-9, 10-11, 12-13
Reading II Rev 21:1-5a
Alleluia Jn 13:34
Gospel Jn 13:31-33a, 34-35
Homily for the Fourth Sunday of Easter and Mother’s Day by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Jesus said:
“My sheep hear my voice;
I know them, and they follow me.
I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish.
No one can take them out of my hand.
My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all,
and no one can take them out of the Father’s hand.
The Father and I are one.”
Reading I Acts 13:14, 43-52
Responsorial Psalm Ps 100:1-2, 3, 5
Reading II Rev 7:9, 14b-17
Alleluia Jn 10:14
Gospel Jn 10:27-30
Dominica IV Paschae C
8 May 2022
This weekend is commonly known as Good Shepherd Sunday because we hear from John 10, where Jesus uses the image of sheep and shepherd, and some verses before the passage today he calls himself “the Good Shepherd”. Good Shepherd Sunday is also a time to give focus to prayer and to our efforts to encourage vocations in our parish by directly speaking to the young people in our midst and in your families about the call of Jesus in their lives. In your charity, I ask for your prayers for me as your Pastor and for Fr. Bali in the great way he assists me in the work of shepherding. In our prayers for young people, we need to create an atmosphere in our families where being open to God’s call to a religious vocation is fostered and even expected. On Good Shepherd Sunday I ask you to pray that the young men in our midst whom God is calling to the priesthood, that they would hear His voice and that obstacles to hearing that call would be removed so that they can respond as future priests. I ask you to pray, too, that the young women in our midst whom God is calling to be religious, that they would have the courage to follow the divine Lamb of God, and to be a future bride of the Lamb.
Speaking of himself as Shepherd in relationship to the sheep, Jesus says, “I know them.” A shepherd in Palestine would spend all day and night with the sheep. He would know their sound, their normal sounds and bleats, and their sounds in distress. We would know their behavior. We may not know this experience of a shepherd, but we can certainly understand how true this is if we consider how we might know a pet. One time my mom sent me a pic of a family pet. The photo was totally staged, but mom did not tell me it was staged. She hoped I would think it was a natural moment caught on camera. I knew immediately. And when I texted back, “Oh please, that is totally fake,” she was amazed and asked how I knew. I told her that because I knew his behavior I could tell by how the pet was holding his ears that he was not relaxed and that he was suspicious something was up. That told me it was staged. We can understand how a shepherd would come to know the sheep. Of course, it is important for us to move out of the realm of literal animals, literal sheep, and to hear the Lord’s words as referring to us. He knows us. We are his sheep. He is our Shepherd.
Notice what we might call a progression, an order, or hierarchy of shepherding in this passage. Our Lord, the Good Shepherd, sort of stands in the middle in a sense of this order of shepherds. Earlier in John 10 he references himself as the Good Shepherd. But here he references the way in which the Father is the shepherd. That’s the implication of the words here. The Father is greater and He has given the sheep to the Son, to the Good Shepherd. And, likewise, descending in order, we know that the Lord has established his Church with visible shepherds who govern in his place as vicars, most especially the apostles and their successors, the bishops. In fact, just last Sunday we heard of this final order of shepherds because the Lord was clearly choosing St. Peter as a shepherd when he told him three times: “Feed my lambs”; “Tend my sheep”; and, “Feed my sheep.”
I want to suggest for us that the Lord has so designed his Church in fulfillment of the Father’s mission that there is a unity among the progression or the order of shepherds. This is a clear meaning of the words the Lord says, “The Father and I are one.” The Son does not shepherd in a different way than the Father. Likewise, our Good Shepherd has given us an assurance, that the legitimately constituted apostolic shepherds guide us rightly when they are faithful to the deposit of faith, which is the Sacred Scripture and the Sacred Tradition. When they speak to us these truths they amplify the one voice of our Good Shepherd and we can recognize the voice we hear. Should the bishops not speak in accord with the deposit of faith, a dissonance is introduced into that voice and we can recognize it as departing from the fullness of truth.
It cannot be emphasized enough that there is no guarantee from the Lord that a person cannot or will not be separated from the Good Shepherd. The idea of “once saved; always saved” is not a scriptural doctrine. In fact, the exact opposite is claimed as St. John later records in chapter 15 when Jesus describes that branches on the vine that do not bear fruit are cut off and thrown out. Likewise, the example of Judas is a clear indication that a person can freely choose to separate ourselves and to be lost. But if we are sheep of the Good Shepherd we hear his voice and we follow him. That is a reference to obedience and the moral way of life, we follow the path of morality. I think it is critical that we embrace this in our confused age. In our time and to great extremes, we have a self-referential culture that exalts the individual, the “I”, above any duty or obligation to another person, and even exalts the individual above reality itself. This is in part why people can follow, promote, and defend outlandish immorality as a good because they claim it fulfills the self and no one can limit another person’s self-actualization in this way of thinking. This is in part why people can claim to be something their own physical body clearly manifests they are not. In this self-referential culture nothing – not even physicality, biology, or anatomy – is more concretely true than what the person decides he or she is, how he or she identifies. Sadly, and frankly, we find many a catholic holding such opinions that do not come from the voice of the Good Shepherd. Politicians of the highest order, celebrities, groups that call themselves Catholic while supporting positions at odds with the faith… all this goes on in a narcissistic age. Whatever that is, it is clear it is not at all hearing, listening to, and following the voice of the Good Shepherd.
My brothers and sisters, we live in an age that can choose to listen to any number of voices. Because of that our social life will be a cacophony of dissonant noise at times. Like Paul and Barnabas in the first reading, we too will face a society that is “filled with jealousy and with violent abuse,” who will contradict and malign and even come after us. But following the message of the Scriptures today, Let nothing take away our joy in the Holy Spirit! In the spiritual battle we are called to engage in, we are protected by our Good Shepherd who said, “No one can take them out of my hand.” That’s the implication of those words, that the Good Shepherd provides a type of spiritual protection to those who follow him. We listen to the voice of our Good Shepherd. We follow him so that we may follow the narrow way to eternal life. And along the way, we share the truth of what our Good Shepherd speaks so that others may be freed of the lies and ideologies and sins that enslave them. We give them a chance to join us as sheep of the flock! That will require us to pray so that we form a deep communion with the Lord. And it will require us to accept sacrifice and maybe even abuse from those who oppose us. This is the path our own Good Shepherd traveled. It must be ours too, for as we sang in the psalm, “We are his people, the sheep of his flock.”
Easter Vigil
16 April 2022
Gospel: Luke 24:1-12
In the ritual system of our Catholic worship, whose absolute pinnacle you are climbing by your participation in this Easter Vigil with its evocative gestures and symbols, we regularly hear from the narrative of mankind’s salvation by listening to God’s Word recorded in that Catholic book called the Bible. In entirely unique fashion, this Vigil has us listen to God’s love and saving action through a hefty number of readings, nine in all. And that doesn’t even count the psalms that we sing and the numerous antiphons and other ritual words that come directly from the Sacred Scriptures. In listening to the Scriptures we encounter God’s living word. And we are intended to take that Word into our being and our way of living. We are intended – the image might be – to breathe it in. To let God’s inspiration be our respiration! It is a living, not a dead Word.
We have to be careful that we do not succumb to the unhealthy and unholy busyness of modern life, falling prey to its materialist and secular mind, such that we begin to think of God’s Word as only words on a page, a static recounting of someone’s past history, a monument to the unsophisticated mind of some past cultures before the scientific age, dare I say… a dead word. Salvation history recounted in Scripture is composed of past historical events and saving actions, yes, but God is acting to save us in our time too and to speak His Word to us, a Word that is always alive. And so, we need to practice the art of seeing ourselves in salvation history. We need to practice the art of seeing and receiving what God is doing now for us in the gestures and symbols of worship that communicate and make present His saving power.
An ancient homily on Holy Saturday is used in the Church’s prayer on Holy Saturday. That ancient homily is a reflection on what faith tells us this day is about. Quote: “The whole earth keeps silence because the King is asleep. The earth trembled and is still because God has fallen asleep in the flesh and he has raised up all who have slept ever since the world began. God has died in the flesh and hell trembles with fear,” end quote. God has chosen to subject Himself to falling asleep because by Original Sin and by our personal sins we are deserving of falling asleep. God comes in our flesh. He comes to live our very life. He comes, collapsing the distance between us and Him, to place Himself into our experience that He might plant the seed of divinity there. That means we must see our lives as the soil to receive God’s planting. The living God with His living Word comes even into our sleeping to plant the divine power of new life. That ancient Holy Saturday homily goes on to describe how God has entered His creation to bear and to reform the marks that cause us to fall asleep. “I order you, O sleeper, to awake. I did not create you to be held a prisoner in hell. Rise from the dead, for I am the life of the dead. Rise up, work of my hands, you who were created in my image…. For the sake of you, who left a garden, I was betrayed … in a garden, and I was crucified in a garden. See on my face the spittle I received in order to restore to you the life I once breathed into you. See there the marks of the blows I received in order to refashion your warped nature in my image. On my back see the marks of the scourging I endured to remove the burden of sin that weighs upon your back. See my hands, nailed firmly to a tree, for you who once wickedly stretched out your hand to a tree.”
All this is to say that, as we hear salvation history in God’s Word and renew our faith that it is a living Word, and as we meditate upon God’s action and the response of His people, and as we marvel at how God has chosen to enter into our life and to plant in our way of being the seed of divinity, what we marvel at is not only God’s action in entering our life, but that in the gestures of worship we recognize a call to seek, and to enter, and to live a godly life – we marvel that we are called to enter His life. What God has done in coming to us and working within us is a relationship and not a one-way street. As that ancient Holy Saturday homily reflected on what the Lord Jesus did in taking on our life and entering our sleep to overcome it, so relationship with God is an invitation to us to place ourselves into godly life. God’s living Word experienced in the Scriptures but also in the gestures and symbols of our liturgical life is a principal way we enter into and we live the life of God. It is a practice of sorts that we get here. But entering into and living a godly life must happen outside these walls too, so that the light of divine life we have received might grow and dispel the darkness that still envelopes so many in our world. As we celebrate the resurrection of the Lord Jesus the empty tomb is the witness to the truth of this saving event. It is a witness on which we must firmly plant our faith. Yet, in an almost curious-sounding way, it is NOT a witness on which we are called to plant our feet. For just as the women in the Gospel went to perform the liturgical action of anointing Jesus, but then left, returning “from the tomb and announced all these things,” so our liturgical action here is meant to strengthen and restore our faith in God’s saving action and to drive us out to announce all this to others that they, too, might be amazed at what has happened.
(slightly adapted for delivery Easter Sunday)
Holy Thursday
14 April 2022
As we have begun this evening Mass, the season of Lent has now officially ended and we have entered the most sacred days of the Church’s briefest liturgical “season”. The Sacred Triduum, or the Sacred Three Days, carries us from Holy Thursday evening to Easter Sunday evening. This short “season” has us observe our most high holy days, celebrating tonight that our Lord established two sacraments at the Last Supper, the institution of the Holy Eucharist and of the priesthood; observing tomorrow the saving sacrifice of the Cross; and, observing on Holy Saturday night and Easter Sunday our Lord’s resurrection to new life.
The oddity of the last couple of years has impacted it seems almost every aspect of life, including adaptations to our typical practices at Church. This has resulted in some good opportunities, I think, to give a renewed focus to some of the most essential aspects of our Catholic faith. Though we are more back to normal than not, I found in a conversation with several brother priests a few months back that we rather appreciated that the omission of the optional foot washing last year provided an opportunity to focus more strictly on the institution of the Holy Eucharist. Several of us wanted to maintain that focus and so I am again opting to omit the foot washing, which is always optional anyway. I rather appreciate the foot washing, so I will certainly opt to do it in the future, but for this year at least I wanted to let the Holy Eucharist be the exclusive focus.
I decided I wanted to provide this focus so that we do not obscure that the Cross is really the focus of these days and that even the action of our Lord taking off his outer garments and washing feet is actually supposed to speak to us more than just foot washing, but the continuation of what the Son of God began at the Incarnation. In other words, at the Incarnation the Son of God lowered Himself to strip off His proper glory as God in order to be veiled by His union with human flesh. The action of removing his outer garments and washing feet, once again, renews this self-emptying, this lowering of God to us. In other words, the foot washing is more than just a servant’s action, but is a prophetic act, drawing attention to the completion of the Lord’s self-emptying on the Cross. Everything about the Last Supper and what we observe this evening speaks of the action and the gift of the Cross where our Lord submitted to sacrificing himself for our salvation. That’s what I hope our focus can be this year.
As your Pastor, I want to place our focus on the sacrifice of the Cross and the Holy Eucharist because I think one of the most disfiguring tendencies or ideas afloat with regard to the Holy Mass is the idea that it is a re-enactment of the Last Supper. That idea in summary is that at the Last Supper Jesus had a meal with his followers, gave us two sacraments, and told us to do this again in memory of him. And so, at Mass we gather as the present-day community of the Lord’s disciples and we share a meal. But this degenerates rather quickly into notions of theatrics whereby the priest plays the part of Jesus and the people play the part of the apostles, and thereby obscures the actual theology of our faith about the Holy Mass, and the Holy Eucharist, and both the ordained priesthood and the baptismal priesthood. Over the past many decades with the rise in the popularity of this idea, we have suffered a weakening, an impoverishing, of our theology of the Holy Eucharist and what it means to participate in it. While one can hold an appropriate appreciation of the meal aspect of the Holy Eucharist, it must be said clearly that that is not the primary focus of the Holy Eucharist. Rather, a Catholic understanding of the Holy Eucharist and the Holy Mass is first and foremost the making present in each time and place where the Mass happens of the very same sacrifice of the Cross, though in an unbloody manner, by which we are placed into relationship with the sacrifice of the Lord for our salvation. And for this reason, and because of this authentically catholic understanding, St. Paul could write (as we heard in the second reading), “For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the death of the Lord until he comes.” At Holy Mass, just as was present at the Last Supper, the mystery of the Lord’s Cross is in the air. St. Paul and we today acknowledge that our gathering in fulfilment of the Lord’s command proclaims not a meal or a re-enactment of the Last Supper, but rather, we proclaim his death. And since the Lord’s Cross is intimately connected to his Resurrection, our gathering here moves from proclaiming his death to receiving not dead flesh, but the living resurrected flesh of the Lord, presented to us in a manner we can receive in Holy Communion. Therefore, a Catholic’s ability to receive Holy Communion is not simply the idea that might be expressed in this way, “I come to a meal and so I eat”; but rather, should be expressed as, “I come to the sacrifice of the Lord and if I am seeking to drive out sin from my life, I am then worthy to receive Holy Communion, to receive the Lord’s sacrifice for sin.” I, too, must move from death to life by repenting of sin in confession, and by changing my sinful ways to live a deeper communion with the Lord.
Just as the foot washing is not just about a servant’s act, so the Last Supper and the Holy Mass are not primarily about a meal. It is a meal, yes, but one whose focus is not just or simply about a meal, but rather moves us to consider the Cross, the sacrifice accomplished there, and the same sacrifice made present to us by our faithful gathering here. And more than just “considering” these things as if they existed only in reflection of the mind or in memory, the Holy Mass puts us in contact with the very same reality of the Lord’s sacrifice for our salvation. It makes the one and same sacrifice of the Cross present to us here and now through the agency of the ordained priesthood by which the Lord receives a man’s being and his life and so conforms the man to himself that the Lord chooses to act through him. Through the gift of self in the ordained priesthood it is Christ the Great High Priest who acts. In this way we might understand a deeper reality of the many vestments a priest wears for this most solemn act. The ordained priest vests not to dress himself up, but rather, quite the opposite, he vests to cover himself in order that a priest beyond himself might be seen, namely the High Priest, Jesus Christ, whose one eternal Priesthood operates in our midst such that when we gather for Holy Mass we do not gather for a mere re-enactment. No, we gather such that the sacrifice of the Lord on the Cross is actually made present to us and offered to us in Holy Communion.
The Church knows in her deepest faith and her highest theology that everything about this evening is about the Cross, it is about sacrifice. No surprise then that the first reading from Exodus is chosen, speaking to us about the memorial feast of the Passover that is not simply a meal but a perpetual institution that calls for the sacrificial slaughter of a lamb. This is the foundation for the New Testament understanding of the Holy Mass. As the Gospel passage this evening showed Peter with several misunderstandings about the Lord’s action of washing feet, may we purify our focus on the Cross in these days and carry that focus into a more proper understanding of the Holy Eucharist and the ordained priesthood. May that opportunity this night result in a deeper faith in the Lord’s presence in the Holy Eucharist. May it result in renewed participation at Holy Mass and regular confession of sin. May it result in our commitment to spend time with the Lord in the prayer of adoration in our chapel. May it result in greater awe in our families to generously promote a priestly vocation from within the family. May it result in a new harvest of future priests from among the boys and young men here in our midst.
Homily for Easter Sunday The Resurrection of the Lord Holy Saturday At the Easter Vigil in the Holy Night of Easter by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading I Gn 1:1—2:2
Responsorial Psalm Ps 104:1-2, 5-6, 10, 12, 13-14, 24, 35
Reading II Gn 22:1-18
Responsorial Psalm Ps 16:5, 8, 9-10, 11
Reading III Ex 14:15—15:1
Responsorial Psalm Ex 15:1-2, 3-4, 5-6, 17-18
Reading IV Is 54:5-14
Responsorial Psalm Ps 30:2, 4, 5-6, 11-12, 13
Reading V Is 55:1-11
Responsorial Psalm Is 12:2-3, 4, 5-6
Reading VI Bar 3:9-15, 32--4:4
Responsorial Psalm Ps 19:8, 9, 10, 11
Reading VII Ez 36:16-17a, 18-28
Responsorial Psalm Ps 42:3, 5; 43:3, 4
Epistle Rom 6:3-11
Responsorial Psalm Ps 118:1-2, 16-17, 22-23
Gospel Lk 24:1-12
Dominica V in Quadragesima C
3 April 2022
The Gospel passage of the woman caught in the very act of adultery is a curious passage. Perhaps one of the most curious aspects that stands out to us is that odd response of Jesus to write with his finger in the dirt of the ground, something the passage tells us he does twice. We don’t know with certainty what he was writing or doing. We do know that something about that gesture eventually led the accusers to walk away one by one.
The scribes and Pharisees contrived a twofold trap for Jesus. The Mosaic Law is clear: any serious offense against one of the Ten Commandments is punishable by death. Adultery certainly fits that. If Jesus says the adulterer should not be stoned then he can be charged with a crime against God’s Law. And there is another trap. If Jesus says the woman should be put to death, and all the more in such a public place like the Temple, he can be charged with violating Roman law. The Roman empire had taken to itself the authority to judge crimes punishable by death. In other words, the Jewish elders did not have a forum to adjudicate and to bring about death in the Roman empire. Such cases had to go before the Roman authority. We will see this reality later when the elders eventually do bring Jesus before Pilate (cf. John 18:31). They need Pilate to condemn Jesus to death in order to bring about what they desire to do to Jesus on the false claims that he had violated the Mosaic Law and that he had tried to make himself king over Caesar.
I wonder if we as believers accept with clarity and consistency that God hates sin. I think that is a lesson we can take from this Gospel passage. I say that because Jesus does not dismiss the seriousness of the woman’s sin nor condone it, just as he does not give a free pass to the sins of the scribes and Pharisees who surround the woman. Now, I know our modern ears sort of recoil at the word “hate.” But it is true: God hates sin. It is abhorrent to Him and offensive. We admit this all the time in the act of contrition at confession: “O God, I am sorry for my sins because I dread the loss of heaven and the pains of hell, but most of all because they offend thee, my God…” Sin does not have a place in God’s presence (cf. Rev. 21:27). And serious sin – even just one serious sin – deserves condemnation and punishment. There is no denying that is a clear truth throughout the Bible and therefore throughout Sacred Tradition in the Church’s teaching. Do we as disciples of the Lord serve as a Christian leaven for our culture by giving voice to what is true and by confronting sin where it is celebrated in our society? I fear we are far too quiet on that front. The daily drumbeat of progressive agendas and perversions on display in our culture is what prompts me to consider that a valuable lesson for us in our time is that simple foundational truth that God hates sin. And related to that, we also have to accept that punishment of sin pleases God. Sin deserves punishment. Thus, in the Gospel our Lord does not say that someone guilty of adultery should not be put to death. No, quite the contrary, he indicates that stones could be thrown at the woman. But our Lord’s response goes further to show that the punishment of sin should arise from a purity that matches his own. A pure and just hatred for sin should be the force or the muscle that hurls the stones. So, he says, “Let the one among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.” And while God hates sin and is pleased by its punishment, He also does not desire the condemnation of a soul, the condemnation of a sinner. And that is Good News. It is a common human trap to focus exclusively on the teaching of mercy that God does not desire the sinner to die, while obscuring that sin deserves God’s justice, a fierce justice. Our Lord is both justice and mercy in this passage. He clearly supports the punishment of sin and, also very important, he tells the sinner to go and sin no more. There is no free pass for sin here. But he also does not desire the woman to die or to be condemned and so he will not support those who are impure by their own sins lining up to throw stones at her in a spectacle of false righteousness.
Think of how modern ears hear and use this passage and many others that refer to God’s mercy. A person is caught in a very grave sin and it should be severely punished. But Jesus doesn’t seem to support that. So modern secular ears go marching off dismissing the seriousness of sin. Then comes the next step, to support sin as its own expression and identity that should be “tolerated.” And then comes the next step that not even tacit tolerance is enough, but the rest of us must actively promote the sin or else we are guilty of hate and should be canceled. This process plays out before us daily it seems, and in the most perverse and outrageous ways. Everything these days it seems is “trans” this and “trans” that. Just days ago, the misguided moral leadership of our President celebrated “Transgender Visibility Day” by having the nerve to equate that ideology with being made in God’s image and likeness. We should be clear, a person is made in God’s image and likeness; an ideology with convenient political clout and elitist money is not. I am also thinking ahead to what comes each June with so-called “Pride” month. One glance at what goes on as standard practice for celebrating Pride month demonstrates that it is overt sexualization of a most perverse kind on public display. These ideologies and so many others are being injected into every sector of life at increasing speed, into laws, into entertainment, even children’s entertainment, into our schools – and why these children’s places? Because these ideologies are a belief system that needs to indoctrinate the next generation. We could even call them their own type of religion with their own catechesis. And, we aren’t immune here, for even our local leaders go along with the pressure and promote these ideologies, as Edmond’s Mayor did last year with his June Pride declaration. Why are our Christian voices so silent in the face of these errors? These destructive forces are right under our noses, in our school systems, in our public libraries, in our city councils. Now I am highlighting only a couple of examples of sinful movements that are prominent, but there are many more that we could list. We believers make a mistake by being silent in the face of such false morality.
But if we follow the Lord as we say we do, then we must first confront and name sin in our own life, because we must hate sin as God does, confessing it immediately in the case of serious sin, and working hard to change and root out sin from our lives. Because God hates sin. If we follow the Lord as we say we do, then we, too, love souls and we seek to listen to, to befriend, and to instruct those in our sphere of influence who struggle and who are going astray. And speaking the truth to them is an act of love. Don’t let anyone tell you any differently. But we do not condone sin. If we follow the Lord as we say we do, then we are clear about calling sin “sin”. We are clear that God hates sin. And if we follow the Lord as we say we do, then like him, we do not dismiss sin or downplay it, or support it. No, like the Lord, we clearly love the sinner while also having his or her long term, eternal good in mind by saying, “Go and from now on do not sin any more.”
We are on a special journey this Lent to be renewed. For those who are preparing for baptism, they are preparing to be healed and saved in the waters of rebirth so that they might rise from the waters and go to live new life in the Lord. For the already baptized we, like the scribes and Pharisees in the Gospel, are confronting our own sinfulness and walking away, even running, to the confessional to be healed by the mercy of God who does not want us to die. And we step forth from that sacrament healed in our baptismal dignity to enact with greater zeal a holiness of life. No matter what our own burdens and sins may be and no matter how serious they may be, we take comfort in the compassion and mercy on display in the Gospel passage today. We accept that sin offends God and that its punishment pleases Him. But we also accept that He does not desire our death or condemnation. Rather, He heals us and at the same time, with our eternal good in view, He commands us to go and to sin no more. In the face of the burdens and sins that mark our past we should be moved by the image in today’s first reading that the Lord opens passages and ways in the sea and in the desert wasteland, in the most unlikely of places. In our places too! “I am doing something new!” says the Lord. Do something new in my life, Lord! Convinced that God hates sin and expect us to speak the truth, may we say with St. Paul, from the second reading, “I consider everything as a loss because of the supreme good of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord.”
Homily for the Fifth Sunday of Lent by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
“Let the one among you who is without sin
be the first to throw a stone at her.”
Reading I Is 43:16-21
Responsorial Psalm Ps 126:1-2, 2-3, 4-5, 6.
Reading II Phil 3:8-14
Verse before the Gospel Jl 2:12-13
Gospel Jn 8:1-11
Homily for the Fourth Sunday of Lent by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
“Today I have removed the reproach of Egypt from you.”
Reading I Jos 5:9a, 10-12
Responsorial Psalm Ps 34:2-3, 4-5, 6-7.
Reading II 2 Cor 5:17-21
Verse before the Gospel Lk 15:18
Gospel Lk 15:1-3, 11-32
Dominica IV in Quadragesima C
Safe Haven Sunday
27 March 2022
Listen again to God’s word to Joshua in the first reading: “Today I have removed the reproach of Egypt from you.” The setting of the first reading is that the Israelites are at the end of their 40-year desert wanderings. They are about to observe the Passover. And they are just about to take Jericho, the first city they conquer as they finally enter the Promised Land. But God orders circumcision first because somehow over the course of the 40-year wandering and a likely focus on the most basic aspects of survival, God’s people had lost the practice of being marked by the covenant. What do we make of this word “reproach”? I checked other language editions of the Bible and it is clear that the meaning of reproach is that God removed “shame, disgrace, or blame.” And so, reminding the Israelites that they belong to Him and insisting on their bearing the physical mark of their belonging, God says, “Today I have removed the shame of Egypt from you.”
What I want to emphasize here, and what I think this line illustrates, is the difference between objective sin and the punishment we deserve for it versus the subjective impact, the harm, and the effects of sin on us. Digging deeper into the moral theology of the Church, there is more to sin than the objective matter of its gravity and the removal of guilt and punishment by God’s mercy. There is a subjective dimension to sin. Quite distinct from having been forgiven of sin in baptism or confession, there can be psychological, emotional, and spiritual factors which require the need for deeper and ongoing healing of the effects of sin. When God speaks of “reproach” I think this can be said to highlight the subjective matter of sin, which we might call its ripple effects, how it impacts us, or the baggage of sin that we carry. The idea of reproach, the shame of our sin highlights more than just the objective fact of sin. Rather, it highlights the ideas about ourselves, the messages about ourselves, that we take from the fact of our sins. Often times these ideas or messages about ourselves that sin sort of “speaks to us” need to be rejected because they are not the voice of God, these negative messages are not what God speaks to us in His love for us. And this shame, these ideas or messages about ourselves, they often need a deeper healing beyond just absolution in the confessional.
Archbishop Coakley has designated this weekend to be Safe Haven Sunday across the Archdiocese to bring into the light the very difficult topic of pornography. For clarity, I am using that word this one time in these remarks so that you know what I am talking about. Going forward I will use other references to the topic in order to protect younger ears. I hope you will appreciate my attempt to both treat a relevant topic that does touch upon salvation and our need to battle sin, while also seeking to limit exposing younger souls to this topic here at church. Recognizing the extremely widespread availability and use of explicit material, the Archbishop is leading us in the Archdiocese to face this topic for how it enslaves us, how it impacts even our children, and how the shame of that struggle can keep someone locked in darkness and falling backward in the journey of holiness. While the focus this weekend is the danger of explicit material and equipping parents to guard children, the truth is that this notion of reproach and shame can well be applied to any sin of our lives. I am delighted that “Safe Haven Sunday” gives us a coordinated effort to turn attention to the topic of explicit material. The particular focus for us this Sunday is to equip parents to protect your children in a sexualized culture. As you leave Mass today we have a booklet resource. This resource is specific to treating this topic for parents of children and youth, and so if you have children in the home I want you to make sure you pick up a booklet. There is no shame in taking up that resource as an aid to your parenting. You will note on the booklet’s front cover and in its first pages an invitation for parents to sign up for a 7-day challenge that will provide a crash course via email of lessons and practices parents should observe to address this topic in the home.
The statistics on the industry that promotes explicit material and the statistics on first exposure ages, on the percent of men and women, and youth who use this material, the frequency of viewing this material, and the amount of money involved in the industry... is frankly staggering, overwhelming and astounding. While I realize not all will agree on treating this subject in church, I am of the mind that it would be the height of irresponsibility for me as the Pastor, or for you as a parent, to keep our heads in the sand on this topic. And so, I want to appeal to you parents to be courageous on this topic. And I want to make a direct appeal to the men of the parish to wise up and confront this topic with a masculine strength that is proper to our vocation as men and fathers. If we – husbands, fathers, big brothers, uncles, spiritual fathers, Godfathers, grandfathers – have not yet spoken directly to this topic with a young person in our care and if we have not taken steps to protect our homes and environments, why not? Do something. And do it right away.
So, what do we do? It is vitally important that we all accept and embrace our God-given dignity. Do our actions reflect that dignity? Are we living a life worthy of our calling? It is equally imperative that parents recognize the importance of the family. The home you create and the intentional actions you make are the best support that you can give to your children to live holy and healthy lives. We cannot underestimate the influence parents have on their children. It is your responsibility—first and foremost—to be aware, to be alert, and to be informed. Gone are the days when we might laugh off that a child knows more about the internet than the parents do. At the very least, you need to know about “parental controls.” You need to set boundaries, and you need to monitor usage, which includes when and where your children have and use their devices. One of the simplest and smartest things I have heard a parent do is to have a house rule where at a certain time of evening, and certainly by bedtime, all internet enabled devices, smartphones, et cetera, have to be relinquished and are kept overnight in the parents’ bedroom. Since the majority of exposure and use happens while kids are bored and in their bedroom, this practice can greatly reduce access to this material.
But this is not just a warning to parents—all of us must be wise and teach our youth the blessings and the beauty of human sexuality. Otherwise, we leave our secular culture to do the formation and that should scare us to death! Yet, so many parents, grandparents, godparents, family members and trusted friends never talk about the sacredness of sexuality and may not even know what the Church teaches about chastity. Creating a safe haven is more than just being watchful and aware for the good of our children it also includes what you teach them and your own behavior including what you do when nobody is looking.
Let me share with you the three basic recommendations for parents to create a safe haven in your home:
Take control of your children’s devices. Use parental controls and if a device doesn’t allow parental controls to be downloaded then don’t buy it for them. Giving kids such devices without controls is like handing them a loaded gun and simply walking away. Kids can’t handle the access to unlimited information provided by internet devices. Frankly, adults can’t either. We aren’t made for such overwhelming input.
Do not allow devices in the bedroom. This places kids at a greater risk of exposure to explicit content, it encourages isolation and lack of connection with others, and it creates a difficult environment for accountability. It is conventional wisdom that if your child wants to have a sleepover at a friend’s house you, parents, want to know a whole lot of information before you agree. You want to know the address and phone number of the friend. You want to know the values in that home. You want to know who the parents are and you may want to meet them first, perhaps at a school event, or over coffee to get to know them first. Letting your child have an internet device in the bedroom is like sending them to a sleepover at a total stranger’s house. You can’t do that.
Talk to you children—Openly and often. Parents have the most significant influence on their kid’s behaviors—more than their friends, their school or their parish church. Make every effort at authentic human connection and relationship in the family.
Impure material is one of the great obstacles sabotaging our mission of evangelization and making disciples. God calls us to more. He offers us freedom. Let us confidently take the next steps in creating safe havens in our homes and in our families.
Remember the Parable of the Prodigal Son—after living a life of dissipation the son was alone, hungry and riddled with guilt. He decided to go home expecting to be treated like one of his father’s servants but when he got there his father saw him first and he ran to him, embraced him and kissed him because his son was lost but now was found, he was dead and has come to life again!
Homily for the First Sunday of Lent by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading I Dt 26:4-10
Ps 91:1-2, 10-11, 12-13, 14-15. Ps 91:1-2, 10-11, 12-13, 14-15.
Reading II Rom 10:8-13
Verse Before the Gospel Mt 4:4b
Gospel Lk 4:1-13
Homily for Ash Wednesday by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading I Jl 2:12-18
Responsorial Psalm 51:3-4, 5-6ab, 12-13, 14 and 17
Reading II 2 Cor 5:20—6:2
Verse Before the Gospel See Ps 95:8
Gospel Mt 6:1-6, 16-18
Dominica VI per Annum C
13 February 2022
This weekend our secular, cultural focus may be on the rivalry between the Bengals and the Rams, but the Scripture selections focus our attention on the face-off between the blessed and the cursed, the face-off between the righteous – those who hope in the Lord and rejoice to live according to His Law – and the wicked – those who put their trust in human beings, in the world, in material goods, and in the strength of their flesh. Read again the first reading, the psalm, and the gospel and you will see in all three the clear dichotomy between the blessed and the cursed. The first reading from the Prophet Jeremiah gives us this focus: “Cursed is the one who trusts in human beings…. He is like a barren bush in the desert…. Blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord…. He is like a tree planted beside the waters.” The psalm takes up some of the very same images. This message of blessing and curse comes to its fulfillment in the blessings and the woes of Jesus’ teaching in today’s gospel.
Jesus repeats the very same message of Jeremiah and the psalm. But Jesus’ comments about the rich and the poor are not merely observations about their literal economic class; rather, Jesus teaches that the material state of the rich and the poor symbolizes their spiritual state – except inverted. The rich are the wicked who boast of their self-sufficiency, the strength of their flesh. The poor are the humble, who put their hope and trust in the Lord.
In the gospel, Jesus stood on a stretch of level ground and, by his teaching, leveled the preconceptions of his contemporaries as he levels ours! Why say our secular vision is being leveled? Because I bet most of us here listen to Jesus’ teaching and think: The poor, the hungry, the weeping, those hated, excluded, insulted and denounced are blessed? The proof of our secular vision is that we don’t think these people blessed, which betrays where our trust really lies – in the world, in the flesh, in material goods. And on the flipside, I bet most of us here listen to Jesus’ teaching and think: Why are the rich, and those filled, and those laughing, and those who are spoken well of told by Jesus “Woe to you!”? That thought too betrays our worldly vision. We think those who are well-off, comfortable, satisfied, and strong are truly blessed. But Jesus reminds us that all the things we fill up on, the things we place trust in, are not as stable and secure as we tend to act or think, and they slip through our fingers when we pass from here. Then, those who are full of the world, the flesh, and material goods will experience an emptiness, a poverty, a sadness, an isolation and a hunger that is incomprehensible, eternal and never-ending.
Yet we struggle to hear this in our fallen nature and in our flesh, where we give so much attention to earthly well-being. It might help us uncover this teaching of the Lord by considering what preceded it in the Old Testament. In the Book of Deuteronomy we find Moses teaching God’s people after they had been wandering long years in the desert, a wandering whose purpose was in part punishment, and in part to work out from them all the ways of thinking they had adopted in slavery in Egypt. Moses presents them God’s law, restating it to gain their acceptance of it before they will enter the Promised Land, and he also mentions blessings and curses (cf. Dt. 28). In that teaching Moses indicates that if they obey God’s law and His ways it will be met with the blessing of children and land and crops and cattle and prosperity and peace. In other words, the signs of blessing will be earthly reward. In Jesus’ teaching today he is inverting the lesson. The earthly blessings become the dangers, become the curses. Why? Because in earthly blessing we can tend to place our security and find little reason to turn our hearts toward zealous searching for God and His ways. To bring about his Kingdom in the New Covenant, the Lord teaches us that the earthly blessings run the risk of becoming a trap; whereas, earthly poverty, and hunger, and struggle, these can lead us to turn our hearts to God and to seek His Kingdom. No doubt this sounds odd to us. We may want to reject this inverted lesson. But in this can we not see and understand the Cross in a new way?! To bring his Kingdom, the Lord endured the Cross. The greatest loss and suffering and evil became the passage to the incomprehensible gain and joy and blessing of heaven.
With all this in mind I wonder if there isn’t something in the experience of the last two years with COVID that might reveal to us something we need to admit about where our heart runs the risk of being focused. In what ways do we still need to accept the New Covenant lesson of the Lord that our heart and our treasure must be on his Kingdom and not merely life in this realm? Now to be clear, no one should hear this suggestion I am making as being pro-vax or anti-vax or pro-mask or anti-mask. That’s far too superficial a focus. If you have health and age risks and you determine that a vaccine, after careful moral examination, is acceptable and important for your situation, then get it. If you determine your risks are low and you prefer not to get it, then don’t. If you have compromised health and need to be cautious then feel free to wear a mask or don’t wear one. My point however is to look more deeply into what we might learn from our collective response to COVID. Is there a chance we might need to admit that we seek our blessings and our stability here in this life, a life that will not last? Do we do just about anything to prolong our bodily health and life, whereas we’d have to admit, a stark contrast to the comparatively little we do to protect the health and life of the soul by say, admitting sin in confession, working to change sinful habits, and committing to daily prayer? Do we view our prosperity as earthbound? Or do we really seek heaven, even while we appreciate and guard and foster our life here for as many years as the Lord will give us? As Christians we do not dismiss the body or fail to take care of it. We care for it because it is good. Yet our care for it does not become an exclusive focus on this life. Rather we strive for holiness so that after we pass, our body might resurrect and be joined again to our soul in the life of heaven. If we maintain this proper Christian focus then we accept from the Lord that our material blessings in this life bring with them responsibilities, such that if we are rich we are not hopeless, but we use those gifts to glorify God. If we maintain this proper Christian focus then we also accept from the Lord that our material poverty in this life can help to turn our hearts to God as the lasting source of blessing and treasure. The Lord’s teaching today helps us understand how – to borrow images from Jeremiah – even in the heat and the drought of life, that is, in the penances, in the mortifications, and in the sufferings we endure in this life we do not fear and we remain like a sturdy tree whose roots stretch out and whose leaves stay green.
The Scriptures teach us that true wealth, satisfaction, and lasting life are found in God alone through His Son Jesus Christ. However in our lives we try to carry the label and name of Christian while living more for the world and of the world, St. Paul reminds us that “[i]f for this life only we have hoped in Christ, we are the most pitiable people of all.” In whatever ways we choose sin, may Christ’s Spirit speak to us today “Woe to you!” Ask yourself today, in what areas of my life am I living in contradiction to Christ and his clear teaching? Ask the Lord to help you hear loud and clear, “Woe to you!” Having heard Christ’s warning, may we then repent of our sins by confession and by serious reform of our lives so that we may be like a tree planted near running water, yielding its fruit in due season. Blessed are they who hope in the Lord!
Blessed are they who hope in the Lord.
Homily for the Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading I Jer 17:5-8
Reading II 1 Cor 15:12, 16-20
Alleluia Lk 6:23ab
Gospel Lk 6:17, 20-26
Dominica III per Annum C
23 January 2022
After the conclusion of a meeting of various local pastors of different denominations years ago, several of us were sitting around just visiting. As our friendly conversation was wrapping up, I said something about having to get back to the parish to finish up some plans for a Bible study. The Baptist pastor said to me, with a wry grin: “Oh, you all study the Bible?” Now, I want to make clear that we were all friends and this was all good-natured jabbing at each other. So, I looked at him, acting surprised, and said, “Well, of course, we do. It’s a Catholic book!” Now that should not be controversial. But let me say it again. In all truth, the Bible is a Catholic book. No one has a Bible they can hold and use, except thanks to the faith and dedication of the Catholic Church who received the Jewish Scriptures together with New Testament writings, and after scrutiny by those with apostolic authority from Jesus, decided which books fit with the received faith, and compiled it all together into the one book we call the Bible. Due to the readings this Sunday that show us rich use of reading God’s Word in worship and in a liturgical setting, we can appreciate the important place of the Word of God in our life as Catholics. Scripture is a rich treasure of our faith that helps us build a relationship with Jesus. We are fools if remain ignorant of Scripture. As St. Jerome famously said, “Ignorance of Scripture is ignorance of Christ.”
The readings this week provide us an important lesson about a critical foundation for the good of our spiritual lives. In the Old Testament reading, God’s people gather for worship and are instructed extensively from the book of God’s law (the Scriptures as they existed at that time). The people listened attentively and heard a message that confronted them to more faithful living; a message that convicted them of their complacency, their sin, and their tendency to practically forget to allow God’s law to lead all their daily actions. Our worship, too, is composed of gathering to listen extensively to God’s Word. We are called to listen attentively, to put away distractions and other pursuits, and to focus on God’s Word. We do this so that we, too, might be confronted to more faithful living, to be convicted of our sins, and to reform our lives so that we do not compromise or explain away God’s law, but rather allow it to direct our daily living. Why do we allow the often-uncomfortable work of being confronted by God’s Word? Because it is necessary for our salvation. And more than just confronting us, God’s Word teaches us about His love for us and inspires joy in us to see our lives as swept up into salvation history.
The Gospel passage goes on to show us again how critically important God’s Word is for our spiritual lives. St. Luke informs us that he has carefully investigated all that has been received in the prior Sacred Scriptures and the Sacred Tradition. In so doing, God’s Word has become a foundation for his life, which he writes down and shares with the rest of the Church. We will have spiritual health and the hope of eternal life if we truly make God’s Word – handed on to us in written form through Sacred Scripture and handed on to us in oral form through Sacred Tradition – the foundation of our spiritual lives. For St. Luke indicates that he writes all that he has investigated so that we “may realize the certainty of the teachings [we] have received.”
Thus, an important truth of our faith is that God’s Word is an indispensable foundation of our life. As today’s psalm stated, we must say and mean: “Your words, Lord, are spirit and life!” God’s Word reveals to us truths about how we are made in God’s image and likeness. His Word reveals to us our eternal destiny. Fostering a love for and a reliance upon God’s Word in our spiritual lives gives us a critical foundation for appreciating the Word made flesh, who is Jesus Christ, and for appreciating his enduring presence among us in the flesh by means of the Holy Eucharist.
I don’t know about you but I find myself deeply disturbed and overwhelmed at times by the grotesque delusion that seems to be gripping so many aspects of modern life. Who speaks the truth? Who can you trust? Basic matters of life and dignity and biology and sexuality and gender seem to no longer have their clear meaning among such a vast number of people. Most all of the elites in our political and cultural classes, all the powers that be, having made an idol of money and power, are on the bandwagon of a deluded world promoting all this garbage. And it is no longer good enough for them that space is made for their “theater of the absurd,” but now their tolerance requires absolute obedience or you are criminalized. I tie this, at least in part, to a world and an age that is increasingly less founded on God’s Word. What do I mean by that? Is this not chaos all around us? Can you recall what God’s Word first tells us about the world He made? From the first verses of the Bible, the Book of Genesis, “In the beginning, when God created the heavens and the earth, the earth was a formless wasteland, and darkness covered the abyss” (Gen. 1:1-2). Before God’s creative action there was chaos and formlessness and lack of order. It’s like we are returning to chaos. And our society is doing so, at least in part, by not being founded on God’s Word. Secularists and atheists may want to march down that regressive path to nothingness; but we believers can’t do so. We better know our book and rely upon it to instruct us and to form us and to guide us to salvation in the midst of chaos.
Let’s take just one stark example of what happens when the truth contained in God’s Word is rejected, and when we fail to be formed by God’s Word so to be powerful witnesses confronting society. This weekend marks the anniversary of Roe v. Wade, that established a so-called right to abortion in federal law. We may be months away from the Supreme Court overturning Roe v. Wade. I pray it will be so. Are we willing to pray earnestly for the end of the heinous bloodbath that washes our country in evil? Are we willing to forego our own plans and our own free time by participating in pro-life activities? Will we go the extra mile to give a voice to human life in the womb? Will we speak up when those around us discount the scandal of abortion or transmit the lie that what is in the womb is not a separate, unique, unrepeatable human being deserving of rights? Will we inconvenience ourselves regularly to fast, to do penance, or to make sacrifices so that abortion proponents are converted? Will we use our own money and our own energy to support a woman in need and in risk of giving into the immense pressure around her to make her child quietly disappear? Will we speak of God’s mercy to one who suffers because of a past abortion and encourage that person to find healing in God’s grace? It seems to me these are all things we must do because we are a people formed by the Word of God to be a people of life. You and I can’t stand up to the demons barking about “choice” if we are not founded on God’s Word and in intimate relationship with the One who gives us power as members of the body of Christ.
Your words, Lord, are spirit and life! These words surely have an application to the great societal debate over human life. These words also apply to so many other areas of our life. We are called to be formed by God’s Word always and to allow His commands and His ways to guide, lead, and change every aspect of our own lives. If we truly have ears open to God’s Word we know we must convert more deeply and be transformed. Where we have failed and where we weep because of our sins, we also hear God’s Word remind us to rise from our worship, filled with grace, so that we may rejoice in the Lord who is our strength!
Homily for the Third Sunday in Ordinary Time by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading I Neh 8:2-4a, 5-6, 8-10
Responsorial Psalm Ps 19:8, 9, 10, 15
Reading II 1 Cor 12:12-30
Alleluia Cf. Lk 4:18
Gospel Lk 1:1-4; 4:14-21
Dominica II per Annum C
16 January 2022
A couple weeks back we observed the Epiphany, a word meaning “manifestation” or “showing.” In the Church’s ancient practice there is actually a triple manifestation of God all rolled up into one in the solemnity of the epiphany. Along with the visit of the Magi, the Baptism of the Lord, and the miracle at Cana help us observe this triple manifestation that God is in our midst.
A principle manifestation of God in our midst is through holy matrimony, that’s why Cana is one of the manifestations of the epiphany. Let that sink in for a bit. Holy Matrimony is to be a way by which God’s presence is made manifest. Do you think of marriage that way? Do you think of yours that way? Yes, bringing two people with a fallen nature together can be very complicated and involves suffering, it might seem like a purgatory or even a hell on earth at times… but do you think of marriage as God does? Jesus, the Son of God in the flesh, is right there at a celebration of married love in Cana. It is there that he works his first miracle, thus manifesting and showing that God has come to earth and lives among us in our flesh. In a one flesh union of a man and a woman, both made in the image and likeness of God, and open to the gift of children through total self-giving and sacrificial love, God is made manifest and shows Himself in our midst. Do you think of marriage that way? Do you let yourself be in God’s presence to find healing and strength to live marriage that way? Perhaps more important, and to borrow an image from the Gospel, will you invite Jesus to be in your marriage. The “water” of a relationship starts out fresh and satisfying but it can turn tepid, still, and even sometimes stagnant… will you invite Jesus to be in your marriage to turn the water into the wine of the Holy Spirit?
I think of the apostles who were filled with the Holy Spirit at Pentecost and who went out to proclaim their new life in the Lord. Recall how Acts 2:13 tells us there were naysayers who mocked this new life and who said that the apostles must have consumed too much new wine. In the Scriptures wine can serve as an image of joy and the life of the Holy Spirit. I think we can accept the manifestation of God’s desired presence in holy matrimony, a manifestation by his making of plentiful wine, to be an indication of how God desires to provide joy and new life in the Holy Spirit through His design for marriage. But if holy matrimony is to be lived in a such a way that it manifests God’s presence in this world, that means it must be lived according to His design. It cannot be lived in a secular way, or according to a worldly way of thinking, where marriage, it seems, has become more about the adults finding fulfillment and pleasure, and where “love is love” in any one of a number of modern combinations. Marriage serves to manifest God’s presence when God Himself is permitted to be there. That is to say, that “marriage” becomes “Holy Matrimony” when Jesus is invited to the feast.
I can’t help but notice the invitation list at the Cana wedding. There was a wedding at Cana and the mother of Jesus was there. And Jesus and his disciples were also invited. I have a real simple idea following the ordering of the invitation list in this Gospel. This is a simple idea that does not at all mean there aren’t many other ways to improve marriage or that there aren’t times when some serious triage is needed with people competent in helping navigate troubles in marriage. But the simple Gospel lesson, based on the invitation list, is this: Will you invite Mary, and Jesus, and Jesus’ disciples to be part of your marriage? Both husbands and wives, you gotta do this!
Grow in Marian devotion and ask our Mother’s intercession for the good of your marriage and family. Ask her, give her permission, to do what she does in this Gospel: Dear Mother, notice where the wine of my marriage has run out and raise that deficiency to the Lord. Dear Mother, implore with your Son to provide new wine. Invite Jesus into your marriage. Are you living your marriage in a godly way, such that the Lord would even recognize it as the instrument by which he shows himself? If you live marriage as the pagans do, making it about yourself, avoiding sacrifice, seeking pleasure, lust, artificially refusing children, thinking it more about the fulfillment of the adults… well, then, Jesus doesn’t have an invitation to your marriage. Make sure that changes. There may be past choices you can’t undo in your marriage. I’m not condemning. You can still repent and issue a new invitation to the Lord. And then place yourself in his presence especially at Mass, and in prayer with the Scriptures. How about adoration in our chapel, even as a couple where possible, to be with the Lord to give him an invitation? To let him be who he desires to be for you, namely the one who turns water into wine. Finally, invite Jesus’ disciples to be part of what enriches your marriage. Jesus’ disciples were there at Cana. What I think that teaches us is the value of having strong friendships among other fellow disciples who might inspire us and who might assist us when it seems like we are running out of wine. Make relationships, and the important accountability that can happen among disciples, a source of strength in your marriage.
I want to attach to this Gospel an announcement I had hoped to make a year ago, before we were dealing with much smaller attendance and the after-effects of COVID lockdown. We are still rebuilding from that time but we are doing well, even though sadly there are still plenty of faces from the past who don’t quite seem to be back with us. We have been quietly piloting for two years now a new marriage preparation method for the parish. It is one that involves placing engaged couples with a mentor couple. The program is called Witness to Love and the materials we provide give both the mentor couple and the engaged couple solidly Catholic resources needed for good marriage preparation over the six months we have for preparation. What results is good preparation for the engaged couple and the added blessing of a time for marriage enrichment for the already-married couple. Think about it, if someone asks you to be a mentor you have a concrete reason to finally give attention to your relationship. The reason I am announcing this publicly is because any married couple in the parish can be asked to serve as a mentor couple. There are very few pre-requisites. The mentor couple must be in a valid sacramental marriage. They must be active parishioners in this parish. They have to be married at least five years. They should not be related to the engaged couple. That’s it! You might be surprised to hear that you could be eligible and asked to be a mentor couple. The Witness to Love resources we provide give you the solid content that is needed to help guide someone else’s marriage preparation. Your own living of marriage, no matter how you might evaluate your own marriage, gives you a wealth of experience that can enrich an engaged couple. Thus, with this announcement, I hope you won’t be surprised if an engaged couple asks you to serve as their mentor. I hope you will be willing to help, to say yes. You’ll have help from the parish and you’ll know that an engaged couple sees something admirable in your marriage and something they want to emulate.
God’s covenant with his people is described in Scripture, as it was in today’s first reading, as a marriage. At a wedding party, Jesus manifested his divine presence and performed his first miracle. Let’s give him permission to be in our marriages so they have the blessing of wine, that is the joy of the Holy Spirit, and so that married love can reveal God’s glory and bring disciples to believe in the Lord!
Homily for the Second Sunday in Ordinary Time by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading I Is 62:1-5
Responsorial Psalm Ps 96:1-2, 2-3, 7-8, 9-10
Reading II 1 Cor 12:4-11
Alleluia Cf. 2 Thes 2:14
Gospel Jn 2:1-11
Homily for The Octave Day of Christmas Solemnity of the Blessed Virgin Mary, the Mother of God by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading I Nm 6:22-27
Responsorial Psalm Ps 67:2-3, 5, 6, 8
Reading II Gal 4:4-7
Alleluia Heb 1:1-2
Gospel Lk 2:16-21
Nativitas D.N.I.C.
25 December 2021
Midnight Mass Readings
In the Gospel for this solemnity the whole world was in motion. The phrase that “the whole world should be enrolled” is a reference to the entire Roman Empire. The Emperor Caesar Augustus had decreed that a census should take place and so the whole world was in motion as people returned to their ancestral homes for the census. This is how Joseph ends up in the city of David, Bethlehem, because he is a descendant in the royal line of David. He went to register where his ancestral line and territory originate from. Recall that it was in Bethlehem that the youngest of Jesse’s sons, David, was anointed as king (cf. 1 Sam 16). There was motion and commotion as the various processes of the world unfolded on that first Christmas night. The powerful and the elite initiated this movement. But most everyone was unaware that a divine motion was taking place in the midst of it all. That divine motion took flesh by Mary’s cooperation and the power of the Holy Spirit and began nine months prior. That divine motion remained hidden in the sanctuary of her womb. And on this solemnity we celebrate that the movement of God coming to man was made visible by the birth of Jesus from Mary. As the beginning of that movement of God, the conception of the Lord, took place in obscurity and simplicity and privacy. So, with his birth. And it was not to the powerful nor to the elite that the angel shared the message of God moving near and becoming one with us.
Celebrating the birth of our Savior and considering to whom angels announced this movement of God offers us three lessons for living our faith, three lessons for how we ought to be so that we are more open to the Good News of great joy that God is with us, so that we don’t miss the movement of God toward us like so many at that first Christmas. And so, the humility and simplicity taught to us by those to whom the angels of the Lord did announce God’s coming near is a lesson for us. It is a lesson for our present spiritual life so that we live in a way that makes us open and receptive to receive God’s desire to come near to us, open and receptive to receive God Himself. So, let’s look at three examples of those to whom angels appeared.
It was the Archangel Gabriel who first announced to Mary that God desired to come near to mankind and that she had been chosen to be part of this divine movement. The humility and the simplicity of a living faith, of which Mary is an excellent model, is a lesson for us to emulate. That living faith is one that is both active and contemplative. It is one whose prayer is both vocal and silent. Above all, a living faith is one that is not only on the lips but rather seeks to embrace what God speaks and to conform and change one’s life in trust. Mary’s living faith is a model for us to permit God and His ways to have a claim on our lives so that we change ourselves to be conformed to Him.
The Gospel of St. Matthew tells us that an angel of the Lord came to Joseph in a dream to communicate God’s plan that involved Mary and to call upon him to change his mind so that he would not be afraid to take Mary into his home and to be both husband to her and father to her child. The courageous obedience of St. Joseph is a model and a lesson for us to emulate. The silence from Scripture on St. Joseph does not permit us to know much about him. However, what we do know provides for us this lesson of courageous obedience. Listening to the message of the angel and following what God revealed to him was not some passive thing. His cooperation with God’s plan required a type of courage to steel his nerves, to change his plans, to submit to God in trust and to endure whatever would come.
Finally, in the Gospel of this Holy Mass we hear that soon after the birth of the Savior an angel of the Lord appeared to shepherds keeping the night watch in the fields near his birth. The lesson we can learn from the angel’s appearance to the shepherds requires a bit more analysis. It is perhaps not as obvious as the need for an angel to appear to Mary and to Joseph in order to gain their free cooperation with God’s movement to mankind. Bethlehem is in the region of Jerusalem, only about 6 miles or so to the south of Jerusalem. It might be hard for us to imagine but the service at the Jerusalem Temple and the sacrifices that took place there were a major driving part of the economy of the entire local area. In particular, for the sacrifice of lambs thousands of sheep would be needed. Perhaps most unimaginable to us, hundreds of thousands would be needed at particularly high holy days when pilgrims from far and wide made the journey to Jerusalem. It is thus entirely likely that the flocks in the region surrounding Bethlehem, only about six miles from the holy city, were flocks that provided, at least in part, for the massive sacrificial system of the Jerusalem Temple. Following the birth of Jesus, the angel’s appearance next to the lowly shepherds – to these shepherds in particular – highlights a lesson for us about sacrifice and worship. Already at his birth, the specter of sacrifice is present. The Bethlehem shepherds, guardians of the flocks destined for sacrifices at the Temple, come with haste to see what the angel proclaims, the sign for them of an Infant wrapped in swaddling clothes. We don’t get any details later in the Gospel about just what is was like for several shepherds to move their entire flocks and to arrive at the nativity. But whatever motion and commotion there must have been, these guardians of the sacrifices for the Temple, come to see the newborn Lamb of God, the one whose very self is the perfect Temple, the one who will be sacrificed for the salvation of mankind. And thus, a lesson for us is the primacy of sacrifice in our embrace of God’s movement to be with us. Most especially, our embrace of the sacrifice that is made present to us here at the Holy Mass, the sacrifice of the Cross that saves us. But not only that. The lesson for us is that to respond to God’s movement to us we must be a people of sacrifice. Our sacrifices to change sinful habits and to rid them from our lives helps us welcome and adore Christ. We make sacrifice to put God first in all things, requiring that we keep proper priorities and refuse to make others things our gods. Living in such a way that proclaims that I actually do believe that God is near and with me requires sacrifice. To see the events of life, especially those that challenge me or disturb my faith, as participating in God’s life and His work of salvation requires that I sacrifice the voices of doubt and beg an increase of trust. And of course, to be like those guardian shepherds of the sacrifice, to gather here in accord with the Lord’s own command that we do this in his memory, to be present to worship God at Holy Mass… this requires that we sacrifice other pursuits to embrace God’s saving presence and action among us. It is in keeping our eyes fixed, like the shepherds, on the Lamb of God, that our individual sacrifices make sense and are placed together with the one perfect pleasing offering made to God the Father by the Son Jesus Christ.
Developing a living faith, a courageous obedience, and a focus on the primacy of sacrifice helps us receive the Good News of great joy that our God and Savior has come near. These lessons help us embrace the movement of God to us so that we might move to deeper life with Him. May the observance of this solemnity help us, through the darkness of our stumbling faith, to see with renewed vision the glory of the Lord shining around us. May this solemnity help us to embrace the movement of God to us so that we join the multitude of the heavenly host in proclaiming: “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests!”
Homily for The Nativity of the Lord (Christmas) Mass during the Night by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
“Glory to God in the highest
and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.”
Reading I Is 9:1-6
Responsorial Psalm Ps 96: 1-2, 2-3, 11-12, 13.
Reading II Ti 2:11-14
Alleluia Lk 2:10-11
Gospel Lk 2:1-14
Dominica III Adventus C
12 December 2021
The change of vestment color for this weekend and the permission to decorate the sanctuary with flowers serve as a visual reminder that half of Advent is in the past. The color rose – rose being traditionally associated with joy – and the repeated message of the Scriptures call us to rejoice. And so, this day has been called in Latin “Gaudete Sunday” or “Rejoice Sunday.” That thematic title for this Sunday comes from the words of the entrance antiphon, which we chanted at the beginning of this Holy Mass: “Rejoice in the Lord always; again I say, rejoice.” This weekend the Church calls us to step up our joy because we have completed half of this holy season and are drawing near to the celebration of the source of our joy, the birth of Christ Jesus.
The brief book of the Prophet Zephaniah, our first reading, demonstrates the hope of God’s people that there would be fulfillment of God’s promise that “the King of Israel, the Lord, is in your midst.” This promise that the Lord will come among his people and be in their midst has always held for the Church a Marian significance. When we celebrate Mary’s role in salvation history it is common that this first reading is chosen since, through Mary and her cooperation in faith, God’s Son literally comes into our midst. The mere hope of the fulfilment of this promise was already a source of joy for God’s people in the Old Covenant. We who live in the time of the New Covenant can embrace an even more confident joy in that this promise has been fulfilled and God, our Savior, has come to us. One of our focuses in Advent is that very reality, the first coming of our Savior, whose birth we are preparing to observe with renewed faith.
Yet, for us too, like God’s people in the time of the Prophet Zephaniah, we await a promise to be fulfilled. Zephaniah also prophesied about a coming day of the Lord, a day of wrath and judgment. In fact, Zephaniah’s description of this day of wrath has inspired in large part the liturgical texts and poetry that we use for requiem or funeral Masses, especially the composition of the hymn Dies Irae, the Day of Wrath. That coming day of the Lord, the day of judgment, is our second focus in the season of Advent. We who exist in the New Covenant, seek to renew our faith in celebrating the first arrival of God’s presence in the midst of His people, that is His coming in our flesh and His birth in time. But we also must prepare and look ahead – even looking ahead with joy – for the fulfillment of a promise still awaited, that is the Lord’s return in glory when he will usher in the fullness of his Kingdom.
It may seem odd to look forward with joy to the coming day of glory and judgment. Yet, that is our task in faith. Our joy for the return of the Lord in glory can find its place in God’s tender care and love for His people. We see that tender care in the terms commonly used to refer collectively to God’s people. Borrowing the name of the location of the original citadel of David, named Zion, and later called Jerusalem, a poetic personification comes to be used to refer to God’s people as a beloved daughter. The Prophet Zephaniah uses those terms – “daughter Zion” and “daughter Jerusalem” – calling God’s people to shout for joy even as they await both the coming of the Lord into their midst and the coming day of wrath.
Those incorporated into the Church by faith and baptism, and who maintain that life of grace, are the fulfillment of daughter Zion and daughter Jerusalem. The Church is thus viewed and referred to as the new heavenly city, the dwelling place of God with His people. We have joy as we prepare to celebrate God’s birth among us at Christmas. And we have joy as we still await and must prepare for God’s return in glory as our Judge. Why or how do we have joy as we prepare for His return? We have joy because we are called to view the Lord’s return as an opportunity for the fulfillment of our eternal dwelling and communion with God in His Kingdom. To be able to look ahead with joy to the Lord’s return should fill us with the same expectation that prompted those listening to St. John the Baptist’s preaching to ask, “What should we do?”
St. John the Baptist’s response highlights the moral response that must be part of our preparation for the Lord’s return. And if we will seek to make a moral response by the choices we make in our living as disciples, then we can have joy as we await the Lord’s return. Too often we can be lulled into a false notion that approaches our life as disciples and our preparation for the Lord’s return in a far too static way. A brute way to say this is that we don’t have an authentic and lasting joy in waiting for the Lord’s judgment if we live as if having once been baptized and showing up for Mass means we have accomplished the heights of sanctity. No, we have joy in our looking forward to the Lord’s return by living a dynamic moral life, by reforming our sinful ways, and by living for others. That fulfillment and satisfaction you experience in serving the less fortunate and providing for someone who has less material means (which we do so easily at this time of year), that can serve as an indication and a reminder that we can live in joy by serving others and putting away sin from our lives. All manner of people asked St. John the Baptist, “What should we do?” All people from the Gospel reading, even those known as notorious sinners, such as tax collectors, and those known to exercise power and manipulation, such as soldiers, all have a place in the joy of awaiting the Lord if they will turn from sin and live a more dynamic moral life. And that’s the lesson for us too.
Our Advent focus is not only the joy of celebrating the Lord’s birth at Christmas but it is also a call to have joy in living our life and communion with the Lord now, even as we await that mysterious day of glory and judgment that will come. We can prepare for that day with joy by seeking to be better grain (to borrow a gospel image), better wheat for the Lord, while separating the chaff from our lives through repentance and better moral living. And then, as beloved sons and daughters of the Church, the new Jerusalem, and free from anxiety we can respond to the charge of St. Paul in the second reading, which forms the theme for this Sunday: “Rejoice in the Lord always, I shall say it again: rejoice!”
Immaculate Conception of the BVM
8 December 2021
Observing the Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception of Mary we contemplate the threshold of our salvation, because we celebrate the gift of God to Mary, the one He chose to be the mother of our Savior. As we celebrate today how she was conceived free from all stain of sin in her mother’s womb, the womb of St. Ann, we celebrate that God was making good on His promise to save mankind. With this in mind it is appropriate that we hear in this Holy Mass from the Book of Genesis. We hear God’s words after the fall of Adam and Eve, in that sin we call “original.” We hear of God’s plan to save mankind after sin had entered the garden of goodness God had made for His creation.
In the selection from Genesis we hear what theologians like to call the “protoevangelion.” That term comes from Greek and refers to the first proclamation of the Good News, the first proclamation of the gospel, that God has a plan to save us. That first proclamation is verse 15 which has God speaking to Satan, the serpent, and saying: “I will put enmity [division, hatred, adversarial relationship] between you [the serpent] and the woman, and between your offspring and hers; he [the offspring of the woman] will strike at your head, while you strike at his heel” (Gen. 3:15). God speaks His plan to undo the sin and disorder that Satan proposed and introduced to Adam and Eve. God proclaims that the offspring of the woman will strike a head blow, that is a mortal blow, to the serpent. The fulfillment of this good news for salvation is finally found in the Cross of Jesus, in his sacrifice of his life for our salvation. Why is the Cross of Jesus that mortal, head blow to the serpent and his cunning? It’s because disobedience is at the heart of Satan’s relationship with God and Satan’s plan to bring ruin to God’s goodness. Satan is that angel who fell because he would not serve God in obedience. Disobedience is at the center of what Satan introduced in the garden and disobedience remains at the heart of our sins, for which we are personally responsible. That’s why the Cross of Jesus is the fulfillment of this first announcement of the gospel: because the Cross is fundamentally about obedience. God the Son, takes on our flesh, and he comes to do the Father’s will. In obedience Jesus accepts the Cross and the punishment for our sins. The obedience of the Cross undoes the disobedience inspired by Satan. And thus, for you and for me, obedience to God is key to our salvation, an obedience that is demonstrated in our growth in holiness and our saying an increasingly committed “no” to sin.
I’d like you to think about the value of the Cross in order to understand our faith in Mary’s preservation from sin in her immaculate conception. The sacrificial event of Jesus’ death on the Cross is what saves us. It is re-presented here at the Holy Mass and that’s why the Mass is so important to our faith and our entrance into Heaven because it places us in contact with the sacrificial value of the Cross. I’m willing to bet that most everyone here believes the Cross is what saves us, even though it happened a few thousand years before any of us was ever thought of, or ever lived and walked the earth. In other words, I bet most everyone here believes that God the Father saw the value of Jesus’ obedience and sacrifice on the Cross and applied the merit, the value, of that sacrifice, to people who did not live at the time and in the place where it happened. God applies the value of the sacrifice of the Cross to those who will accept it in faith, and who will embrace it and conform their life to it. God sees the value and the merit of the Cross and I bet you believe that its value is applied to you and to me a few thousand years later. Here is what I’d like you to consider: If you believe the value of Jesus’ sacrifice can apply to you thousands of year later, can you believe and accept that God could see the value of the Cross and apply its value before it happened? If its value could move forward in time to us, can God permit its value to go backward in time? That is basically what we are saying in faith about Mary’s immaculate conception. We are saying that God Who exists outside of time and Who sees and knows all things, could see the value of what His Son would accomplish on the Cross and He applied that value to Mary from the first moment of her conception in her mother’s womb. Thus, God gave Mary the gift of saving her from the first moment of her life. It’s not that she did not need salvation, no! God saved her from the first moment of her life by the value of the sacrifice of Jesus which the Father could foresee.
Why would it be important for God to have a plan to do this for Mary, the mother of our Savior? If God’s plan was to send His Son in the flesh to be born among us, in time, in the normal course of human birth, then a human being, having inherited a fallen nature due to original sin, could not do anything but pass on fallen, sinful human flesh to Jesus. But the Book of Revelation tells us that nothing unholy can be in God’s presence. Much less together with Him. God, the all-holy One, cannot coexist with sin. It’s like oil and water; they don’t go together. So, God’s preserving Mary from sin from the first moment of her life means she was being prepared for the role He chose for her in salvation: to give human flesh to the Son. And by preserving her from sin, God the Father was making it possible to pass on to Jesus the pure flesh that could coexist with Him. Mary’s being preserved from sin means she could provide for Jesus sinless human flesh in which to take up dwelling, in order to come to save us.
Thus, the collect of this Holy Mass speaks well of what we believe in this aspect of our faith. Listen to it again carefully: “O God, who…prepared a worthy dwelling for your Son, grant, we pray, that, as you preserved her from every stain by virtue of the Death of your Son, which you foresaw, so through her intercession, we, too, may be cleansed and admitted to your presence.”
We celebrate in this solemnity the special gift of God to Mary. A gift that was part of His plan, first announced in Genesis, to deal a mortal blow to Satan and the harm he had done to God’s desire for us to have Heaven. Since obedience was the undoing of Satan’s disobedience, then obedience to God must be fostered in our Christian living. And this is why Mary is for us such a great example and intercessor. She is the one who said “yes” to God’s plan. We heard of that obedience in the gospel: “Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord. May it be done to me according to your word.” God has a desire for us to live in communion with Him now and forever in Heaven. He has fulfilled His plan in Jesus’s sacrifice. Today we celebrate the role He prepared Mary to occupy to bring us that Savior. Looking to Mary and counting on her prayers for us we can walk confidently toward God trusting that by sincerely doing away with sin, by confessing it, and seeking to observe greater obedience to God now, we will be prepared one day to enjoy the fullness of obedience’s reward in eternal life in Heaven.
Homily for the Third Sunday of Advent by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
“Rejoice in the Lord always.
I shall say it again: rejoice!”
Reading I Zep 3:14-18a
Responsorial Psalm Is 12:2-3, 4, 5-6.
Reading II Phil 4:4-7
Alleluia Is 61:1 (cited in Lk 4:18)
Gospel Lk 3:10-18
Homily for the Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading I Gn 3:9-15, 20
Responsorial Psalm 98:1, 2-3ab, 3cd-4
Reading II Eph 1:3-6, 11-12
Alleluia See Lk 1:28
Gospel Lk 1:26-38
Dominica D.N. Iesu Christi Regis
21 November 2021
In a Church with as much history as ours, we observe today a solemnity that is more recent in history. This solemnity of the universal kingship of Christ was established by Pope Pius XI in 1925. In his encyclical letter about today’s feast, Pope Pius XI sets the context of this observance. Let’s listen to his own words:
“In the first Encyclical Letter which We addressed at the beginning of Our Pontificate to the Bishops of the universal Church, We referred to the chief causes of the difficulties under which mankind was laboring. And We remember saying that these manifold evils in the world were due to the fact that the majority of men had thrust Jesus Christ and his holy law out of their lives; that these had no place either in private affairs or in politics: and we said further, that as long as individuals and states refused to submit to the rule of our Savior, there would be no really hopeful prospect of a lasting peace among nations. Men must look for the peace of Christ in the Kingdom of Christ; and that We promised to do as far as lay in Our power. In the Kingdom of Christ, that is, it seemed to Us that peace could not be more effectually restored nor fixed upon a firmer basis than through the restoration of the Empire of Our Lord” (Quas Primas, Pope Pius XI, December 11, 1925).
Exponentially moreso than did the year 1925, our time bears the marks of a society suffering great difficulties and manifold evils due to Jesus Christ and his law being thrust out of public and private affairs and out of the governance of nations. There is no authentic and lasting peace between nations, and within nations divisions, tribalism, and dissolution is on the rise, bringing with it great turmoil, unrest, and fear. What a vision Pope Pius XI had so many decades before the insane lawlessness that has now gripped our nation and much of the world! This reality should give us renewed focus and vigor to observe the kingship of Christ. This reality should also lead us to unapologetically submit ourselves more completely to the reign of Christ. To stay on the current path of modernity and secularization is to choose a path of destruction.
By virtue of his divine nature, being the Son of God with all lordship and sovereignty, our Blessed Lord is a King by right. Being God, his kingship extends farther than any mere man’s kingship. Yet, having given us the curious gift of freedom, there is a certain sense in which his sovereignty must be claimed over us, as if by conquest. To be clear, the Lord has absolute rights over us. Yet, in freedom, he expects us to use that gift to submit and to willingly subject ourselves to his rule. Our Blessed Lord makes this conquest and claims his rights over us by his Passion, death, and resurrection. Thus, with good reason do we hear the Gospel on this feast, a Gospel that communicates to us the unique way the Lord exercises his kingship. It is a Gospel leading to the Lord’s condemnation and death on the Cross. By shedding his blood on the Cross, the Lord condemns sin and wins victory over Satan and his kingdom of darkness. The implications are grave for our social order and for our hope for salvation when we refuse the kingship of the Lord who is the Way, the Truth, and the Life… when we refuse the incarnate love of God for us. Consider not so much the small portion of the Gospel we hear today, but the whole larger context of the scene surrounding the arrest, the accusation, and the condemnation of Jesus. “The angry mob outside demands him to be punished. Voices from all sides have already concluded that he is guilty, even before any trial begins. They don’t want to hear the facts of the case,” or to accept any meaning of the facts that does not fit the predetermined narrative (Rev. Robert Wood, personal text message, 20 November 2021). “The truth of the matter makes no difference [to them]. He is obnoxious to them, and he has already been condemned in their minds and hearts. It is not a matter of truth or justice, but of factions and ideologies and lies” (ibid). What are the implications of rejecting the order of the King who is the Way, the Truth, and the Life? Look into the mirror and look into that mirror of our civilization that is the mass media, cell phone video footage, and social media posting. “The scene of today’s Gospel continues to be played out in our world. Not only in Kenosha, Wisconsin, or Brunswick, Georgia,… but in every place and community and heart that refuses to see the truth, or to cherish the truth, or to listen to the spoken truth” (ibid). When you reject the Kingship of the Word Incarnate who is Truth, the result is not that you are without a king. Rather, fallen sinful man makes himself, and what satisfies himself – and soon – his delusions and his derangements, a king.
Having established his kingship over us, we should find comfort in knowing it is God’s action that makes it possible for us to enter his kingdom, to subject ourselves to him, and in so doing to find ultimate and lasting freedom. While it is possible for us to submit to our King, it is a work that requires our cooperation and ongoing effort in the life of grace. Seeing the order of the reign of Christ flourish and proliferate in our world begins with that territory, that domain, that is a human person. It begins with you and me submitting ourselves to the Lord, training our children to do the same, witnessing to the Lord and proclaiming the Gospel in our areas of influence so that others come to accept the Lord as their King too. Then we will see the proper flourishing of the Kingship of Christ reflected in greater order, justice, truth, and peace in our world. We get just a little glimpse of that growth and flourishing of the reign of Christ today as our brothers and sisters in RCIA have taken a new step to submit themselves to the Lord and to serve him in his Church as they enter the time of formation and instruction that is the catechumenate.
The placement of this solemnity situates it always near the annual observance of All Saints’ Day. The proximity of this placement can serve as a lesson that the mission of the Lord Jesus as King continues in how the saints manifest the holiness and glory of the Lord. We celebrate the fidelity and the success of the reflected glory and holiness of God shown in the saints, but we also must admit that the Lord’s mission and his reign is supposed to continue in each of us who must strive for holiness and who are saints still-in-the-making.
Homily for the Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading I Dn 7:13-14
Responsorial Psalm Ps 93:1, 1-2, 5
Reading II Rv 1:5-8
Alleluia Mk 11:9, 10
Gospel Jn 18:33b-37
Dominica XXXIII per Annum B
14 November 2021
We are in the final few weeks of the Church’s liturgical year since the Church’s new year always begins with the First Sunday of Advent, just two weeks away. These final weeks of the current liturgical year are marked by the images in the Scripture readings of times of darkness, tribulation, suffering, and destruction… images that call to mind the end of things, especially the end of earthly life and most especially God’s return in glory accompanied by the end of the world. Thus, we hear today from the thirteenth chapter of St. Mark’s Gospel. It is a very complicated Gospel chapter that can be difficult to grasp. That difficulty is made the more so in this setting in that the Church picks only some verses of the chapter to give us a glimpse. Thereby missing the whole context of the chapter can create its own confusion. Furthermore, attempting to make some sense and application of the passage in a limited setting like a homily with only a few minutes to speak really won’t do justice to the chapter.
Chapter thirteen is Jesus’ Discourse on the Mount of Olives. After journeying over several chapters toward Jerusalem, our Blessed Lord has finally arrived in the holy city. He has visited the Temple (as we heard from last week when Jesus was watching people and especially a poor widow put offerings into the Temple treasury). And now, leaving the Temple he goes outside the city gates, across the Kidron Valley to the Mount of Olives, and speaks the selection we hear today presumably while looking back across the valley toward the Temple. We need to know an important context that the Olivet Discourse is about two distinct but related events. The Lord speaks about (1) the destruction of the Temple; and, (2) he speaks about the return in glory of the Son of man at the end of time and the end of the world.
The initial context of Mark chapter 13 is not read in today’s selection. That context comes in the first verses of chapter 13 when a disciple mentions to Jesus the magnificent stones and the building that is the Temple. Jesus predicts the Temple’s destruction. Then, on the Mt. of Olives, the apostles ask the Lord when this will take place. Jesus responds by commenting on the two related events of the destruction of the Temple and his return in glory at the end of time. One complication for us is that St. Mark has both events overlaid to show their relatedness and interconnectedness. That interconnectedness makes sense in the Jewish mind because the Temple was viewed as an image, a microcosm, of the order of the whole universe. Destroying the Temple is closely related to the destruction of the cosmos, the whole world, which will be part of the Lord’s return in glory. This interconnectedness is not as clear to the modern mind and so we can get a bit lost in chapter 13, losing sight of which event and which timeline of cataclysmic signs refers to which event. It is important for understanding chapter 13 to know which event (Temple destruction or return in glory at the end of time) Jesus is speaking of in any given moment.
Throughout the Olivet Discourse Jesus is shifting in and out of references to both events because they are interconnected. But at the end of the discourse Jesus notes an important difference between the destruction of the Temple and the end of the world when he returns in glory. Our Lord predicts that the destruction of the Temple and the violent and deadly overthrow of Jerusalem will happen within one generation (40 years). But as regards his return in glory with the end of the world, our Lord says we do not know when it will happen, not even the Son knows the day or the hour, only the Father. The first event (Temple destruction) will have accompanying signs and you should be able to know it is coming (like the fig tree getting leaves and you know summer is near). But the second event (return in glory with the end of the world), you won’t know the day nor the hour. Here the lectionary stops today’s selection but Jesus goes on to use another image, the parable of servants not knowing when the master of the house will return and so they can only be watchful and prepared each day. I hope you can see that in chapter 13 you have to keep clear which event is being referred to. Otherwise you might conclude that our Lord predicted the end of the whole world in one generation and thereby got it wrong. No, he predicted the destruction of the Temple and, in fact, it did happen in one generation, in about 40 years’ time. Or you might conclude that he has told us both that we will be able to know the time of his return and that we will not be able to know.
At this point this homily is feeling more like a lecture, but I wanted to set a foundation for some of the mysterious message of chapter 13, because it is mysterious and we all know well that with that mystery we can tend in our world to get wrapped up in movements, and ideas, and prophecies, and interminable YouTube videos… but we need to stay grounded and rooted, anchored, in what Jesus, and the Scriptures, and his Church actually teach. With that in mind, I want to briefly highlight a lesson for us, something more like a homily. In the first reading from the Book of the Prophet Daniel we hear the apocalyptic vision of Daniel that accompanies a time of great upheaval, trial, and distress. It is an image of the end of things. That reading gives us an Old Testament reference for one of the named Archangels, St. Michael, who is described as an angel prince warrior and a guardian of God’s people. (So, our devotion to St. Michael and our trust in his protection is a piety with Old Testament origins.) The reading shows us the upheaval of a great battle in heaven which is also manifested in the earthly realm. But after this, those who are wise and just will awaken to an everlasting life and will shine brightly like the stars. This teaches us a lesson that is maintained in the New Testament and which Jesus also demonstrates in his own life and teaches in his own words: Namely, that suffering precedes salvation. The spiritual battles that are manifested also on earth, the mysterious and frightening cataclysmic events that accompany the end of the world and the Lord’s return in glory, and also our own struggles with sin and our need to confess, to grow in virtue, and to be saved… all these are examples of that scriptural lesson: that our normal or ordinary path to salvation passes through suffering. I think we need to hear this because it can be easy for us to dismiss this. Let’s face it, none of us wants to hear that. It can be easy for us to treat dismissively or all-too-lightly the damage of our sins. It can be easy for us to fail to go to confession as we should, letting month upon month, or more, build up the filth of moral decay. It can be easy for us to dismiss the seriousness of God’s judgment and the call to a rigorous spiritual life marked by spiritual battle. I think we can fall prey to these notions that dismiss suffering and battle and hard work, in part, because we live in such an age of comfort, casualness, and self-absorption. We can tend to think of God’s judgment less objectively and instead approach that notion subjectively, thinking something like “Judgment? Condemnation? God would never do that to me!” But you can’t read the Scriptures seriously without noting that some will pass the test and others will not.
As we come to the end of a liturgical year and hear Scriptures that speak of the end of things, it can be a spiritually healthy opportunity to recall what the Church terms the Four Last Things, that is: Death, Judgment, Heaven, and Hell. These are the end of things. Our lot on earth passes through suffering and death. Upon death we will each face our own unique particular judgment, which will be revealed at the end of time in the General Judgment when the Lord returns in glory. And when that end comes we will find ourselves in one of two eternal destinies: that of heaven or hell. Signs in the world around us won’t tell us conclusively when the Lord will return. But they should serve to alert us to the reality of spiritual battle which we must undertake. But let’s keep ourselves anchored in a truth: The Lord has already won the victory and generously gives us the tools and the strength for battle, even aiding us with his power and life in our frailty. But we have to cooperate with those gifts, especially by prayer, regular practice of the sacramental life, and moral living. The Lord’s love is constant and generous. He sends us guardians, like St. Michael, to minister His own generous assistance. We therefore must be like servants in the household who live each day simply finding confidence and peace in being prepared and alert for his return.
Homily for the Thirty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading I Dn 12:1-3
Responsorial Psalm Ps 16:5, 8, 9-10, 11
Reading II Heb 10:11-14, 18
Alleluia Lk 21:36
Gospel Mk 13:24-32
Dominica D.N. Iesu Christ Regis (Mass of the 1962 Missal)
31 October 2021
IN THE NAME OF THE FATHER, AND OF THE SON, AND OF THE HOLY GHOST. AMEN.
In a Church with as much history as ours, we observe today a solemnity that is more recent in history. This solemnity of the universal kingship of Christ was established by Pope Pius XI in 1925. In his encyclical letter about today’s feast, Pope Pius XI sets the context of this observance. Let’s listen to his own words:
“In the first Encyclical Letter which We addressed at the beginning of Our Pontificate to the Bishops of the universal Church, We referred to the chief causes of the difficulties under which mankind was laboring. And We remember saying that these manifold evils in the world were due to the fact that the majority of men had thrust Jesus Christ and his holy law out of their lives; that these had no place either in private affairs or in politics: and we said further, that as long as individuals and states refused to submit to the rule of our Savior, there would be no really hopeful prospect of a lasting peace among nations. Men must look for the peace of Christ in the Kingdom of Christ; and that We promised to do as far as lay in Our power. In the Kingdom of Christ, that is, it seemed to Us that peace could not be more effectually restored nor fixed upon a firmer basis than through the restoration of the Empire of Our Lord” (Quas Primas, Pope Pius XI, December 11, 1925).
Exponentially moreso than did the year 1925, our time bears the marks of a society suffering great difficulties and manifold evils due to Jesus Christ and his law being thrust out of public and private affairs and out of the governance of nations. There is no authentic and lasting peace between nations, and within nations divisions, tribalism, and dissolution is on the rise, bringing with it great turmoil, unrest, and fear. What a vision Pope Pius XI had so many decades before the insane lawlessness that has now gripped our nation and much of the world! This reality should give us renewed focus and vigor to observe the kingship of Christ. This reality should also lead us to unapologetically submit ourselves more completely to the reign of Christ. To stay on the current path of modernity and secularization is to choose a path of destruction.
By virtue of his divine nature, being the Son of God with all lordship and sovereignty, our Blessed Lord is a King by right. Being God his kingship extends farther than any mere man’s kingship. Yet, having given us the curious gift of freedom, there is a certain sense in which his sovereignty must be claimed over us, as if by conquest. The Lord has absolute rights over us. Yet, in freedom, he expects us to use that gift to submit and to subject ourselves to his rule. Our Blessed Lord makes this conquest and claims his rights over us by his Passion, death, and resurrection. Thus, with good reason do we hear the Gospel on this feast, a Gospel that communicates to us the unique way the Lord exercises his kingship. It is a Gospel leading to the Lord’s condemnation and death on the Cross. By shedding his blood on the Cross, the Lord condemns sin and wins victory over Satan and his kingdom of darkness.
Having established his kingship over us, we hear words from the Epistle to the Colossians that let us know it is God’s action that makes it possible for us to enter his kingdom, to subject ourselves to him, and in so doing to find ultimate and lasting freedom. St. Paul expresses our thanks today because it is God “who has made us worthy to be partakers of the lot of the saints in light: who has delivered us from the power of darkness, and has transferred us into [his] kingdom.”
The placement of this solemnity in the traditional calendar situates it always near the annual observance of All Saints’ Day. This year it falls literally the day before All Saints’ Day. The proximity of this traditional placement can serve as a lesson that the mission of the Lord Jesus as King continues in how the saints manifest the holiness and glory of the Lord. While we will celebrate the reflected glory and holiness of the saints, we also must admit that the Lord’s mission is supposed to continue in each of us who must strive for holiness and who are saints still-in-the-making.
IN THE NAME OF THE FATHER, AND OF THE SON, AND OF THE HOLY GHOST. AMEN.
Homily for the Twenty-eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading I Wis 7:7-11
Responsorial Psalm Ps 90:12-13, 14-15, 16-17
Reading II Heb 4:12-13
Alleluia Mt 5:3
Gospel Mk 10:17-30 or 10:17-27
Dominica XXVIII per Annum B
10 October 2021
Last weekend the Gospel selection ended with children in their humility, trust, and acceptance as an image of what is required to enter the kingdom of God. Today’s passage features a rich man, who is certainly older and less simple than a child, asking a question that touches upon the same lesson: What is needed, what must one do, to inherit eternal life? And today’s passage ends with Jesus’ remark that entering the kingdom is hard, very hard. He notes that wealth and riches make it hard to enter the kingdom. The words of the Lord amaze and astonish the disciples leading them to ask, “Then who can be saved?” Today’s passage connects well with the conclusion of last week’s passage and presents us with a critical question that should be ours about what is needed to inherit eternal life. The passage likewise should challenge us. We should not pass over these words lightly. We need to have the same interest in knowing what is needed to enter the kingdom. We need to permit the discomfort, the amazement, the astonishment to impact us if we are really listening to the words of the Lord and taking seriously the call to reform our lives for heaven.
The rich man is an example to us in two key ways for how we need to navigate this life in the hope of inheriting eternal life. The rich man provides us an example both in what he does well and in what he does not do well, that is what he still needs to do.
In a posture of petition and humility and worship, the rich man kneels before Jesus and asks what he must do to inherit eternal life. Notice what response Jesus does not give. He does not say, just accept me as Lord and Savior. He does not say, just be a basically good person. No, notice what Jesus highlights as a foregone conclusion, one that would be familiar to any serious Jew. The commandments. Keeping the Law of God would be a common Jewish expectation for entering the kingdom. And Jesus does not deny this. Rather, the Lord highlights such obedience. In response to the rich man, Jesus says, “You know the commandments.” And the rich man does know them. He responds that he has observed all these from his youth. So, the first lesson of the rich man for us is in what he does well. He is aware of, he is serious about, and he observes the commandments. Doing what is right and living in accord with the commandments is key to entering heaven. This is important for us to accept as a lesson because it is fashionable to dismiss a serious conforming of one’s life to the moral law. Today we often hear approaches to living a godly life that are far less rigorous and robust than the example of the rich man. Here are some examples of things we often hear: “I’m basically a nice person.” “I don’t do anything THAT bad.” “As long as your heart is in the right place.” “I haven’t murdered anybody.” We’ve all heard these generic or lowest common denominator appeals that reveal a less than robust striving for holiness. This Gospel and the example of the rich man do not let us get away with that. No, this rich man has observed all the moral commands and he has done so from his youth. An appeal to some really bad thing I have NOT done cannot be the measure of my moral life and that does not get me off the hook for a serious examination of life and a vigorous life of faith. Yet, this is the error that many people make in our modern age. It is a well-worn road to hell. The first lesson about getting to heaven is to obey and keep the commandments, to live a serious moral life.
But there is a second lesson for us in the example of the rich man. He knows the commandments and he has observed them from his youth… yet, he must know deep inside that something is lacking for he comes to the Lord and asks what more is needed. And the rich man is lacking something. Jesus says so. In context, it seems the rich man has his heart, his desire, his intentions focused on riches. His treasure is on earth and not in heaven. So, when the Lord tells the man to sell what he has and then come follow him more closely, the rich man goes away sad. This lesson in what the rich man does NOT do well is what I will phrase or call the lesson of the heart, the lesson of love. My spiritual interpretation of this passage is that the rich man, while following the commandments and being obedient, is lacking in love. The deeper or richer motivation to follow the commandments is something that has escaped him. He knows the commandments and he follows them, yet something deeper is missing. To support my interpretation that he’s lacking in love I want to highlight a unique and captivating aspect of St. Mark’s version of this passage, where St. Mark writes, “Jesus, looking at him, loved him.” That’s a really interesting phrase and it jumps out at me as a way St. Mark is trying to communicate something to us. Added to this unique phrase is the fact that all the commandments that Jesus lists off, are commandments traditionally understood to guide what one owes other people, they guide love of neighbor. Things like, you shall not kill; you shall not commit adultery; you shall not steal; you shall not bear false witness. When Jesus says to the rich man, “You know the commandments” but then the Lord doesn’t list those commandments traditionally understood to guide what one owes to God, to guide love of God, in my mind that serves to highlight this spiritual interpretation that what the rich man is lacking is a proper motivation, a desire of the heart, a deep love of God that should be the reason for why he leads a moral life.
Just as we cannot dismiss a robust living of the moral life and obedience to God’s commands, likewise we need to look deeper. We need to notice the movements of the heart. We cannot live the commands of the moral law in only a superficial or formal way. We need to give attention to the matter of the love of God. To strive for eternal life we cannot dismiss a robust living of the moral life; but we also must reform our heart to deeply love God and his ways so that we are not lacking in what will help us inherit eternal life. It can be very easy for us to have our hearts set on what we can provide for ourselves and on what we can control. We can fall into the trap of having our heart heavy with material goods and earthly riches. But to have treasure in heaven starts with the heart and the work we must do to foster our love of God and to place ourselves before him, like the rich man, so that the Lord may look upon us and simply love us. Before we love God, He has loved us. Do we let ourselves accept the love of God? Think of that unique phrase in this passage: “Jesus, looking at him, loved him.” Do we simply let ourselves be in the place where Jesus can look upon us and love us? Or does an excessive focus on earthly advancement keep us from meaningful attention to a prayer life that will address the deeper matter of the heart?
We can and should pray anywhere and anytime. We can and should pray at Holy Mass, and on our own using our own words and turning to God’s word in the Bible as a rich deposit for our spiritual lives. In all of this, we have various ways to place ourselves before the Lord, like the rich man, so that the Lord may encounter us and love us. Letting ourselves be loved by God and growing in love of Him must be just as much part of our striving as keeping the commandments must be. They go together.
My experience of the value of praying and participating in adoration before the Blessed Sacrament really struck me in this regard. By participating and committing to a time in our adoration chapel we can quite literally re-enact this Gospel passage in its unique description of Jesus. When we come before the Lord in adoration, we place ourselves before him. We run up to him in the midst of our busy day. We may even kneel before him, like the rich man. We believe the Lord is present in the Blessed Sacrament. Why wouldn’t we run up to him? And in that time of prayer, in addition to whatever we might bring and whatever things we might want to pray about, we probably need the encouragement of this unique Gospel passage to simply be before the Lord, to let him look upon us and to love us. As we have heard from the Book of Wisdom today we pray that we set our hearts on the Lord and on spiritual treasure, that we may not be weighed down by an earthly focus that prevents us from noticing our need to let the Lord love us and to call us to follow him.
Dominica XXVII per Annum B
3 October 2021
The Pharisees test Jesus in the Gospel passage by asking about marriage and divorce. The force of Jesus’ response remains powerful still today in an age marked by many challenges in relationships. The Pharisees were a very devout group of Jews who knew the Scriptures well. They indicate that Moses permitted a “bill” of divorce. They are referring to the teaching of Moses found in the Book of Deuteronomy 24:1-4. This is the first place in Scripture that mentions a permission for divorce. Jesus responds to the Pharisees by himself quoting the Book of Genesis and taking them back to “the beginning.” It’s like saying, see how far you have strayed… get back to God’s original idea and mind. Jesus interprets the witness in the Book of Genesis and indicates that divorce is not the mind of God and, furthermore, that to divorce and remarry is tantamount to adultery. The Catholic Church maintains this divine teaching because it is not human teaching but comes from God, and man has no authority to change divine teaching. How can we not maintain this teaching, if we take the Scriptures seriously?
In the exchange between Jesus and the Pharisees we learn that Moses permitted divorce due to the sinfulness of the people and their hardness of heart. But Jesus purifies the vision of his listeners. And he challenges them to live in accord with the mind of God. This Gospel lesson is challenging. I don’t want anyone to think that the message today is condemnatory. Or that the result should be embarrassment and shame. In speaking about the mind of God and the permanence of marriage we find a truth that we must hold up. As a Pastor I know that there are many challenges that come in relationships. I also know, as does the Church, that one rightly makes a distinction about the morality involved between one who breaks the marriage vows versus being a spouse who has been unjustly abandoned or divorced against his or her will. I am keenly sensitive too because divorce has marked my own family. But none of this changes that we must uphold what marriage is and we must expect spouses to strive for it, notwithstanding those cases where marriage vows have been irreparably harmed or one spouse refuses to work to improve the relationship. If you have questions about divorce or need to address a new and subsequent marriage that was accomplished outside the Catholic Church then I urge you to come see one of the parish clergy soon. Fr. Bali and I and Deacon Pereira will happily guide you.
In the Genesis account we see that the relationship of man and woman, their oneness in the flesh that is a hallmark of marriage, is something found within the very act of creation. It is God’s action that results in the creation of man and woman and it is God’s action that they belong together. This is why we believe that marriage is not at all a man-made institution, but a God-made one. Therefore, we accept in faith what God has made. At the same time, man has no ability or right to dissolve what God has united, to change what God has made, or to make other relationships equivalent to marriage. God made marriage within the very order of creation as a covenantal bond between one man and one woman. This is important to note, and all the more so in our troubled age. Notice that Adam does not leave his father and mother to marry Eve. No, Adam and Eve were made for one another and established as fitting partners in life. Since God established marriage and placed it within the very order of creation, “for this reason,” as the Scripture says, all future marriages involve a man leaving his father and mother and clinging to his wife. In other words, marriage involves a permanent unity reflective of that unity in creation that we see in Adam and Eve and – for this reason – a man leaves his father and mother and clings to his wife.
But these biblical passages have implications far beyond the question of marriage and divorce. This is so because we find here a Scriptural based anthropology, meaning an understanding of the origin and existence of mankind. This Scriptural anthropology presents a biblical vision of creation, the divine institution of marriage, the meaning of the body, the life-creating power of human and spousal love, and more. As Christians we accept as authoritative, divinely inspired, and inerrant, both the Old Testament and the New, and so the lessons of Genesis are brought together with the Gospel interpretation given by Jesus into a unified Christian anthropology. Do we accept and embrace this vision of creation, mankind, and moral life, especially as regards relationships like marriage? Do we let this vision transform us and our attitudes? While today’s readings touch upon marriage, we can note that this Christian anthropology in the Scriptures gives us guidance on many other issues in our secular modern age. In fact, given the tsunami of anti-traditional social constructions and novel ideas in the area of sexuality, gender, and marriage it is critical that we understand what godless forces in our society are proposing as a substitution for the Christian vision of creation. For if we pull up anchor from the foundations of Christian anthropology we quickly find ourselves swept away into all types of man-made constructions that are delusions aided by fairytale language presenting itself as a new version of reality. But it is no reality. What are some examples of being unmoored from reality due to rejecting Christian anthropology? I mean the separation and rejection of the procreative meaning of sexual love by use of contraception or by sterilization. The proliferation of abortion that leaves a baby dead and a woman scarred, at the very least emotionally and psychologically. So-called gay “marriage.” The idea that there is no discernible difference or even meaning to the body, to our physicality, such that a man can become a woman or a woman can become a man. The proliferation of made up genders on an almost daily basis. Things like non-binary, non-conforming. The claims of transgender ideology. The experience of modern life, uprooted from a biblical and Christian anthropology, has consequences. And very serious ones indeed. And we are seeing this all around us precisely because a Christian view is no longer the view of those who drive culture in our world. The experience of modern life apart from a Christian anthropology is like trying to tread water right near the edge of Niagara Falls and hoping not to get swept away. The last few years have been marked by radical delusion powered by mainstream media, and by leftist elites in our political and monied classes. There are real people with struggles in all the areas of morality I have mentioned. They need help, but instead are aided in living a fantasy by these made up ideas and nonsensical language. The elites with power put forward the stories of such suffering souls in order to tug at the heart strings by invoking a compassion that is false because it recreates a world that is not based upon reality. Would that our cultural response would be offering real help to the suffering, to help them see reality and to face their challenges, rather than going along with the lies and aiding and abetting the delusions we see all around us. This is what happens when you pull up anchor from reality. Reality reveals itself by the order of creation around us and it can be known by anyone of good will. And if you have faith, you can see this reality even more clearly.
Is accepting the Lord’s teaching demanding? Yes. But accepting his teaching is more than just a religious practice. It has much deeper meaning and consequence because the Christian vision of creation and mankind and relationship is accessible to all, no matter one’s faith. The rejection of the Christian vision revealed by God, is rejection of reality itself. And we are seeing those consequences all around us. As if on cue, this very week provided me with two relevant examples of what happens when we reject the Christian vision presented us in the Scriptures. An op-ed appeared in the New York Times entitled “Divorce Can Be an Act of Radical Self-Love” (New York Times Opinion, Lara Bazelon, September 30, 2021). In this article the author notes that her marriage was good. There was no abuse or neglect. No one was cheating. In fact, she says, there was love. She notes that she still loves her ex-husband and goes so far as to say that even now when he walks into the room her stomach drops just like a roller coaster drop, a reference to the breathlessness of love and attraction. She admits, “I divorced my husband not because I didn’t love him. I divorced him because I loved myself more.” One wonders whether the author realizes what she has just admitted and whether the editors at the New York Times really intend to promote narcissism as a cultural value? Also, this week a Texas abortion provider testified at a House Oversight Committee hearing saying, “abortion saves lives, …abortion is a blessing, abortion is an act of love, abortion is freedom” (Dr. Ghazaleh Moayedi).
At this point in human history we are well beyond the testing of the Pharisees. What a godless society proposes is not working because it is in opposition to the very order of creation, a creation we cannot pretend does not exist. The lesson from the Lord in the Gospel passage is a call to get back to “the beginning.” It is a lesson to accept God’s action in creation and the offer of His kingdom in childlike trust. We marvel at the age of the martyrs and how Christian witness confounded pagan empires. A new pagan empire is already here. As he said to the Pharisees, Jesus says to us today, it’s time to get back to “the beginning.” It’s time to be the saints, the witnesses, both the Lord and the world need!
Audio recording of Fr. Stephen Hamilton’s homily for the Twenty-seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time.
But from the beginning of creation, God made them male and female.
For this reason a man shall leave his father and mother
and be joined to his wife,
and the two shall become one flesh.
So they are no longer two but one flesh.
Therefore what God has joined together,
no human being must separate."
— Mark 10:6–9
Reading I Gn 2:18-24
Responsorial Psalm Ps 128:1-2, 3, 4-5, 6
Reading II Heb 2:9-11
Alleluia 1 Jn 4:12
Gospel Mk 10:2-16 or 10:2-12
Dominica XVIII Post Pentecosten (Mass of the 1962 Missal)
26 September 2021
IN THE NAME OF THE FATHER, AND OF THE SON, AND OF THE HOLY GHOST. AMEN.
This brief passage from St. Matthew gets right to the point of showing our Blessed Lord as able to heal both body and soul. The Lord’s identity and power as God is on display. He knows the interior thoughts of the scribes who do not even say verbally, yet think, that he has blasphemed by taking on an attribute of God, namely forgiving sin. He goes on to prove his authority by performing a physical healing, the miraculous healing of the paralytic. And though the interior thoughts of man may still today raise questions, doubts, and complaints about the method God chooses to forgive sin, this passage also makes it clear that our Lord has given this authority of his to men, something we hold in faith in our belief that sincere confession and valid absolution are the normal sacramental means by which the Lord Jesus forgives sin in his one Catholic Church.
The parallel passages recounting this same episode from the Gospels of St. Mark (2:1-12) and St. Luke (5:17-26) fill out the picture and tell us more about this episode. For instance, in the other parallel accounts we learn specifically that four men, presumably friends of the man with palsy, are carrying his mat. And we learn that the crowds around the Lord are so dense that the only way the men can get the sick man to the Lord is by opening a hole in the roof and lowering the mat down before the Lord.
All of the Gospel accounts of this event however make note of a particular motivation that drove the Lord to grant the spiritual healing of sin and the physical healing of paralysis. The passage notes, “and Jesus seeing their faith,” went on to forgive the sins of the man with palsy. I find this simple acknowledgment quite interesting. The Gospel passage clearly makes reference to the plural in making use of the possessive pronoun “their,” as in “their faith.” That pronoun could be an indication that upon seeing the faith of all five men (the four carrying the mat and the man with palsy) the Lord performed the miracle. Or it could be an indication that upon seeing the faith of only the four who carried the mat he performed the miracle. Whatever the case, it is certainly true that the reference is plural and thus the faith of the paralytic’s friends is also something that motivated the Lord.
We can learn in part by this how our Lord chooses to function in dispensing his grace. Faith is an important foundation and a requisite for receiving God’s life. We in no way want to dismiss the importance that the sick man himself needs to have faith. However, by this passage, we learn a critical lesson that should drive us to be living members of the Body of Christ, seeking to maintain the life of grace, and guarding our unity with the Lord, because we learn that the faith of the sick man’s friends was also instrumental and a motivating factor for our Lord’s miraculous working. This truth revealed in the Gospel is a foundational reason for our belief in the communion of the saints, and even related to the doctrine on indulgences. Despite some controversy with the doctrine of non-Catholic Christians, this passage shows us that the Lord chooses to forgive sin and to heal at least some people because of the merits of others (Sermon for this Sunday from St. Ambrose, The Sunday Sermons of the Great Fathers, v. IV, p.183). Yes, the merits of one person or group can positively impact the good of others and can be a manner by which the Lord dispenses his grace to someone in need. That might not sound shocking to us. Yet to some Christians it is. Suspicion of this Gospel lesson and rejection of this Catholic doctrine leads some to be offended by the notion of the unity we have in Christ and the powerful effects of the intercession of the saints for us, and our part in interceding for others. We as Catholics accept this as true. And even more mysterious and viewed with suspicion is the doctrine of indulgences, the foundation of which is the belief that the treasury of graces and spiritual gifts won by Christ together with the saints is like a rich store that the Church has a role in dispensing to the faithful, in particular for the departed and those who have no one to pray for them or to assist them. For whatever rejection this doctrine might meet, we accept it and find in the brief words today an important foundation of this belief: Seeing their faith, [Jesus] said to the man sick with palsy: Be of good heart, son, your sins are forgiven you.
My brothers and sisters we want to find consolation, joy, and encouragement in such simple words, words it would be easy to pass right over in this passage. We ourselves have needs. We know of so many loved ones and friends and still others with whom we interact who need the Lord’s grace and healing. We naturally want to support in prayer those who have passed before us in death. And we know we will make that passage someday too and we hope someone will pray for us and assist us. The working of God’s grace is not like granting a wish. It is mysterious. The faith of an individual person must always be involved. Yet, the faith and merits of others are involved too. May the generous response of the Lord in today’s passage, motivated at least in significant part by the faith of the sick man’s friends, be an encouraging message for us that we might have confidence in lifting the needs of others to the Lord, interceding for others so that they are carried to the Lord and even placed before him by our faith.
IN THE NAME OF THE FATHER, AND OF THE SON, AND OF THE HOLY GHOST. AMEN.
Homily for the Eighteenth Sunday After Pentecost (Traditional Latin Mass), given at the 7:30 AM Mass by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Epistle: 1 Cor. 14–8
Gospel: Mt. 9:1–8
Dominica XXV per Annum B
19 September 2021
The section of St. Mark’s Gospel that we are in contains three Passion predictions that Jesus makes. Last week we heard the first, today the second. Though each of the three predictions is one chapter apart, the Church chooses to put two predictions back-to-back on successive Sundays. In each case, the disciples clearly don’t get it. In fact, more accurately we could say in each case we see the blundering of the disciples and the embarrassment of their attempt to distance Jesus and themselves from the shadow/specter that suffering will cast over how Jesus will be the Christ. Jesus clearly teaches that the way he will be the Christ (and therefore the way a disciple will be a Christian) is through the via dolorosa, the way of suffering that leads to resurrection. Jesus does not speak of suffering and crucifixion without, thanks be to God, also referencing the resurrection. This gives us hope in this valley of tears, as we say in the Salve Regina. On the flip side, it is likewise true, that Jesus does not speak of a resurrection without the cross. This gives us a certain sobriety and a reality check about life in our fallen world marked by sin. In the first Passion prediction, from last week’s Gospel, Peter rebuked Jesus and attempted to correct him, to distance him from suffering. In today’s prediction the embarrassing blundering of the disciples continues as we see the disciples are not willing to accept for themselves that their lives must be marked by the Cross. We know this because they are caught arguing about power and who will be the successor when Jesus dies. They are arguing about who among them is the greatest. What instruction is offered us by hearing two passion predictions and two examples of disciples not getting it?
First, what can we make of what appears to be secrecy on Jesus’ part? Last week we heard Jesus warn the disciples not to tell anyone about him. In today’s selection the Lord doesn’t want anyone to know where he is as he continues teaching about his suffering and resurrection. Doesn’t this seem to fly in the face of openly proclaiming the Gospel? Doesn’t this seem to undercut the mission of disciples and the Church to give witness to the Lord? I mean, we talk all the time, right, that we are supposed to share faith and the Gospel with others? The secrecy doesn’t seem to make any sense, even though sometimes (maybe often?) we might want to say, “Gosh, it would be easier to just keep my faith to myself rather than to be told that I’m supposed to share my faith as a disciple. I mean, I could handle just lighting my lamp and putting it under a bushel basket.” I suggest the odd-seeming secrecy is related to our accepting and “getting” the lesson Jesus emphatically teaches of cross and resurrection. In these Gospel passages the Lord might be wanting secrecy for the time being because he knows (as we see evidence for in the passages) that the disciples don’t get it. It’s like we heard last week, Jesus said to Peter: “You are thinking not as God does, but as human beings do.” The Lord wants secrecy for the time being not because disciples are supposed to remain silent, but rather, for as long as they are not thinking as God does, then they don’t get to talk about him. In other words, if you are going to think as human beings do and try to talk about faith and the Lord and morality and salvation and conform them to your own image… you might as well just shut up. Lord knows, we hear that kind of useless hot air oh so frequently from people who, knowingly or unknowingly, empty the Gospel of its content. So, no, we are not off the hook to give witness to our faith; but we must give an accurate witness, a witness that accepts the emphatic teaching of the Lord that he will be the Christ both of suffering and resurrection, both of Good Friday and Easter Sunday.
With two Sundays of Passion predictions in our ears and two Sundays of examples of blundering disciples who don’t get it, I suggest a lesson for us is to examine whether we accept the Lord’s insistent teaching that he will suffer greatly, be rejected, be handed over, that he will be killed and rise again. It might be easy for us to sort of scoff at the disciples in the Gospel in their refusal to accept a Christ on the Cross. How silly the disciples in the Gospel seem to be! We likely cannot appreciate how unexpected a notion it was in the time of the disciples that the promised Messiah would seem to be defeated by suffering, torture, and death. However, we might want to be cautious about scoffing at the buffoonery of the disciples. After centuries of Christian faith we rather take for granted that Jesus and Christianity involve the cross. So expected is the cross to us that it’s even become decoration and jewelry, and sometimes rather opulent at that. But do we accept the role of the cross precisely as it is, or more as decoration and symbol?
Asking ourselves whether we accept a suffering Lord and suffering in our own life as disciples seems a worthy response to these Gospel passages (from last Sunday and today). I say that because I suggest we have our own struggles with accepting suffering. We might not always refuse suffering, but I bet each of us at times struggles with keeping an outlook of faith when challenge, and suffering, and difficulty come our way. Sure, we might have good sounding words of faith when someone else is suffering, but do those words become empty when suffering comes to us? We might have some part of our personality that we wish were different. We might have a moral failure that causes us grief. We might have challenges in a marriage. We might have physical defects. Or maybe we just feel “off,” we feel like life should be easier, but it just doesn’t seem to be so. Or maybe there is terminal illness or some suffering that is unimaginable. We can tend to think God is far from us when we suffer. We can tend to complain and to ask, “Why is this challenge happening to me?” We can tend to want to say, “Can THIS really be part of God’s plan? Can any good come from this?” In our fallen nature these are not surprising questions. And, yes, we probably need to be cautious about scoffing at the blundering disciples when we ourselves can at times expect resurrection without a cross.
These past two weekends of Passion predictions place before us the crystal clear message that being a disciple of the Lord must have meaning and content and that it costs us something. In last week’s Gospel the Lord references taking up a cross to teach us that suffering is part of the way of following him. In today’s Gospel he takes up a child as a way of illustrating the smallness and humility that also must mark the way. As we participate in this sacrifice of the Lord for us at the Holy Mass, we must clear out the false notions from our minds and place laser focus on what our presence here must mean: We come to this sacrifice of the Lord because we ourselves must humble and lower ourselves and be ready for sacrifice that will make us more like the Lord, whose path is the only way to salvation.
Homily for the Twenty-fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Jesus and his disciples left from there and began a journey through Galilee, but he did not wish anyone to know about it. He was teaching his disciples and telling them, “The Son of Man is to be handed over to men and they will kill him, and three days after his death the Son of Man will rise.” But they did not understand the saying, and they were afraid to question him.
—Mk 9:30-32
Reading I Wis 2:12, 17-20
Responsorial Psalm Ps 54:3-4, 5, 6 and 8
Reading II Jas 3:16—4:3
Alleluia Cf. 2 Thes 2:14
Gospel Mk 9:30-37
Homily for the Twenty-Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Jesus and his disciples set outfor the villages of Caesarea Philippi.Along the way he asked his disciples,“Who do people say that I am?” They said in reply,“John the Baptist, others Elijah, still others one of the prophets.”And he asked them,“But who do you say that I am?”—Mk 8:27-29a
Reading I Is 50:5-9a
Responsorial Psalm Ps 116:1-2, 3-4, 5-6, 8-9
Reading II Jas 2:14-18
Alleluia Gal 6:14
Gospel Mk 8:27-35
Dominica XXIV per Annum B
12 September 2021
In the Gospel scene, Jesus and his disciples are out on a long walk, one of those occasions that is both a geographical and a spiritual journey. On that walk we get to see the mind of Jesus. We get to see what he thinks it is important to discuss, for it is he who probes the minds of his disciples. He wants to know how his mission is going by asking what the “word on the street” is about him. “Who do people say that I am?” And after offering some of the various answers from the general public, you get the sense that Jesus’ follow up question reveals that the general public doesn’t quite have it correct. For what the Lord wants to know is how well-formed are his disciples. He wants to know, “But who do you say that I am?” He needs his disciples to know who he is. He needs them to be ready, when it is time, to profess and to proclaim who he is.
I wonder if we can take a lesson from this Gospel about the importance of being able and ready to profess and to proclaim who Jesus is? This readiness was important enough for Jesus to probe the minds of his most intimate followers, those who were called disciples. If we are authentic disciples then we must be ready to profess and to proclaim the truth of who Jesus is. And one main point I want raise in this reflection is that we must notice that being a disciple who is ready to profess and to proclaim Jesus is not just a matter of saying his name – Jesus – or his title – Christ. That is not enough, that is, if there is no real content behind the profession. We learn this from the Lord’s long walk and his probing of the minds of his disciples. Notice that what they, and what we, must be ready to profess and to proclaim has a specific content or meaning. For after Peter gets it right that Jesus is the Christ, the Lord goes on to be specific and to teach about what that means. He will be a suffering Christ, who will be rejected, killed, and who will rise again. And when Peter tries to reject this content of who the Lord is, he gets both barrels in no uncertain terms: “Get behind me, Satan. You are thinking not as God does, but as human beings do.”
Why is it important to emphasize that our professing of belief in the Lord must be more than mere words on the lips? Because we live in such a superficial age marked by relativism that seeks to make each person the arbiter of a personal truth that replaces what is actually true. We are bombarded by slogans and claptrap jargon that sounds enlightened, but when examined you see its light is from the fires of hell. And we are bombarded by such things even within the Church by those who claim to be disciples. When it comes to moral debates that have significant societal impact, our belief in the Lord must have meaning and it places specific demands on us as disciples. Consider some of the hot button issues that make constant news, issues like abortion, the re-definition of marriage, transgender ideology. So many so-called and notorious “catholics” in our political class present their Catholic credentials but hold positions that reveal they are in fact not Catholics in good standing. Even some popular priests and other clerics pull a similar game. It’s as if such people who wear the label “catholic” answer the Lord’s first question saying, “You are the Christ,” but like Peter – before he was rebuked and got the message – they reject the content of what that claim means. They try to reject the cross and catholic moral teaching, and instead are more in league with what the secular elite dictates.
For some reason it can be considered controversial when the Church speaks on hot button moral issues, or issues that should impact how we as Catholics live, and how we vote, and how we seek to organize society in conformity with Christ’s Kingdom. But if the Lord in the Gospel could insist that disciples profess both who he is and that such profession must have meaningful content… then such discussions really should not be controversial at all. In the past few months we have been subjected to the spectacle of a President who regularly proclaims his Catholic credentials. By analogy, it’s like he answers the Lord’s first question in today’s Gospel and says: “You are the Christ.” But when one evaluates his multiple actions supporting, promoting, and advancing abortion, among other problematic issues, one sees clearly he is like an errant Peter in the Gospel who seeks to empty that profession of any meaningful content. He deserves a severe rebuke: “Get behind me, Satan.” Sometimes it helps demonstrate the problem I am describing by removing it from the realm of faith and showing its faulty logic in a different arena that is less charged. Here’s a simple analogy using similar empty lingo like that used by abortion supporters in our political class. You know the game Jenga. You have planks or blocks and you build up a tower. The game is to take turns removing planks in such a way that the tower still stands. The strategy then is that you have to consider which planks are so important, so fundamental, that removing them would endanger the structural integrity of the tower. Now imagine our political class who are pro-abortion coaching and leading players in Jenga and saying, “I’m personally opposed to pulling out all of the very bottom foundational planks of the tower, but I’m not going to impose my beliefs on other players.” You know what we call that? Game over, that’s what! The tower collapses. When abortion is promoted, supported, and advanced, the very fabric, the very foundational matters of life and justice, the order of society, and the natural moral law are removed and the tower comes crashing down. And when a self-proclaimed Catholic does this it is a demonstration that he or she is not actually a catholic in any meaningful way at all. Sadly, and you know their names, far too many politicians on the national stage who say they are Catholic are really not good Catholics in any meaningful way beyond the surface label, by which they say to the Lord, “You are the Christ,” and “I am a Catholic” but reject what that must mean for how they conduct their lives and their work. And while I am focusing on the dilemma of self-proclaimed Catholics, the truth is any public figure who uses his platform to promote abortion is not deserving of our support.
So, why bother saying this? I mean, other than voting such false catholics out of office, which we should do, you might want to say: What can we really do about this, Father? We can’t change the world. Well, actually, yes, you can. Big players in social and political life don’t typically start out on the national stage; they start locally. So focus locally, and don’t remain silent when local leaders adopt immoral ideas and practices, or when they promote such things in our communities and schools. Vote according to a full catholic faith that shows the content of what it means to be catholic. Form your kids in the truth so they are ready both to profess and to proclaim the Lord as Christ and also ready to uphold the content of what that must mean. Be generous in your openness to life in your marriage and raise up children who will be soldiers in the battle to form our society in greater conformity to the kingship of Christ. Its starts locally. After all, the Lord started with only twelve apostles. We can do our part by evangelization and personal witness to help others grow in their own response to the Lord’s question: “But who do you say that I am?”
Dominica XIV Post Pentecosten (Mass of the 1962 Missal)
29 August 2021
IN THE NAME OF THE FATHER, AND OF THE SON, AND OF THE HOLY GHOST. AMEN.
It is a reality of life and a truth proclaimed in God’s Word that man experiences a civil war within himself. As St. Paul says it (epistle), “the flesh lusts against the spirit, and the spirit against the flesh, for these are contrary to one another.” The material world, including our flesh was made good by God. Yet it is marked by sin. And so, the flesh – after the Fall – battles even against the spirit to find its place and to establish its dominion. In the civil war that is within us, the flesh can seem stronger or better armed than the spirit. After all, isn’t it a common experience that the flesh seems to “win,” to get its way? Don’t we experience frustrations and worries in life when we face the reality of our own sinfulness?
But upon deeper reflection, is it really true that the flesh is stronger than the spirit? Might it be, rather, that the flesh is more savage than the spirit? Might it be true that the flesh has more to prove than does the spirit? A more thoughtful evaluation of our civil war reveals, I think, that the flesh in its fallen nature is like a loosely organized troop, armed with some weapons, yes, but trying to exert its presence and influence on a larger scale, battling in a more frantic way. Perhaps we might even call the fallen flesh a terror cell, organized and able to inflict damage, to be sure, but frenzied and struggling to exert a stability and endurance it will never have.
If the flesh seems to be victorious in this civil war, is it really true that it is more powerful? Or rather, is it that the spirit, being more eternally established, adopts a longer and wider vision, one that can afford something akin to patience or a more measured response to the fight? After all, when you know that you are the victor, as the spirit knows, you can tend to live with or suffer the blows of a weaker enemy, knowing that you can sustain some inconvenience and harm because you know the weaker enemy will not have the upper hand.
By faith and baptism we have been washed clean of the eternal consequences of sin and given the possibility of the inheritance of eternal life, that is, given the possibility of living in the ultimate victory of the Lord, where flesh and spirit are harmonious. But in the meantime, in the campaign or the theater of battle that is this life, how are we Christians to understand the reality of our experience of the flesh and the spirit lusting against one another? And, more importantly, what are we to do about this civil war?
By maintaining the life of grace, especially in a proper sacramental life, we can faithfully take part in the battle that is our lot in this life. Our battle strategy has two basic foundations as regards the flesh and the spirit. One, while fallen flesh will not ultimately win, we need to take its savagery seriously and train it under discipline to live in greater freedom and conformity to holiness. Two, while the spirit is ultimately victorious we need to rouse it from slumber and its tendency to dismiss the attacks of the flesh so that we strive with greater zeal and eagerness to live according to the spirit. Penance and mortification are our practical responses to this twofold battle strategy. We complete penance out of justice for our sins. And we undertake mortification as a response to the call of prudence. Penance and mortification become the duty of “every Christian who is not foolish enough to pretend to be out of the reach of concupiscence” (The Liturgical Year, Guéranger, vol. 11, p. 332).
In the Gospel, the Greek wording is stronger than our English translation can communicate. Rather than a message that no one can serve two masters, it is more like no one can be a slave to two lords. When we focus on grasping, possessing, and controlling our own stability in this life, we are permitting the flesh to have the upper hand. We are thereby serving “mammon,” that Aramaic word with a negative connotation, meaning “money” or “wealth.” The gospel highlights some of the most basic elements of life. We are not talking about fanciful things here. No, it is more basic. Do not worry over what you will eat or drink or wear. Do not worry about the future. This is such a basic lesson but such a foundational aspect of faith. Faith can refer to an intellectual assent but it can equally mean trust. Trust is a faith that has practical implications for how we live. The Lord’s words in the Gospel are meant to recall for us who we are in this battle of life: we are God’s children and we are called to live in the freedom of the children of God. We are worth more than the smallest of creatures, yet even they are cared for by God. We are being called to a radical trust in God’s Fatherhood. And when in our weakness and frustration with our own flesh we tend to listen to the lies that make us hopeless, we are called to have hope and trust in God’s working. We have this hope and trust because we have been united and incorporated into Christ. As members of the Church we are united to the Lord as Bride to Bridegroom. As members of Christ’s Body we are united to our Head. Thus, in the introit, when we cry out to God our protector and ask Him to look on the face of thy Christ… this is our face too and in a mystical way we are crying out to God to look upon us with that same favor and protection. We cry out to a Heavenly Father who cares for us and who invites us to trust in Him. We have confidence that when our Heavenly Father looks upon us He sees the face of His Christ, battered and wounded yet glorious and victorious. And He responds such that we are withheld from eternal harm and guided to what is good for our salvation.
IN THE NAME OF THE FATHER, AND OF THE SON, AND OF THE HOLY GHOST. AMEN.
Homily for the Fourteenth Sunday After Pentecost (Traditional Latin Mass), given at the 7:30 AM Mass by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Epistle: Gal. 5:16-24
Gospel: Mt. 6:24-33
Assumption of the BVM
15 August 2021
A formal part of Catholic faith is our belief that God has blessed Mary with certain privileges. These privileges bring salvation to Mary and they come purely from the generosity of the Holy Trinity. These privileges are an answer to the Original Sin of Adam and Eve, and so they are part of God’s plan to make it possible for mankind to have eternal salvation. All the privileges of Mary stem from her first or main privilege, namely that God chose her in a singular way to be the Mother of God the Son in the flesh. In the privilege of the Assumption that we celebrate today we express our Catholic faith that at the end of her earthly life Mary, having been preserved from sin from the first moment of her life and having chosen to use her freedom to live sinless her entire life, was rescued from the decay of the tomb and brought up body and soul into heavenly life. You can find this doctrine already believed and celebrated liturgically in the fifth century. Finally, being formally defined in 1950 by Pope Pius XII, this doctrine is thereby a dogma of the faith.
You may have noticed that the Scripture readings do not make explicit reference to the assumption. I actually love pointing that out because it raises an important lesson for us, especially important for a Catholic to grasp here in the Bible belt. The lesson is highlighted in this question: Which came first, the Church or the Bible? Or another way to ask it, did the Church’s faith precede the Bible or did the Bible precede the Church’s faith? The answer is that the Church and the Church’s faith came first, well before anyone had a Bible to use. Now, I want to pause right here, and say clearly that by making this observation I am not in any way downplaying the Bible or its importance to our faith, or suggesting it be allowed to collect dust on your shelves. No, the Church reads and digests the Bible, and reflects upon it, and sees it as the inspired and inerrant recording of God’s Word in Tradition. “Ignorance of Scripture is ignorance of Christ,” St. Jerome says. By observing that the Church precedes the Bible, what is important to highlight is that the Church was alive and faithful to the Lord well before the Church even decided at the end of the fourth century which books made it in to the Bible. Still more, the Church was alive and faithful to the Lord well before the invention of the printing press, well before any printed copies of a Bible were available to the general public and for a user to hold before his eyes for personal reading. So, for all those hundreds of years, how did the Church and individual believers hear God’s Word? The answer is that God’s Word has its first and proper context within the Sacred Liturgy, hearing God’s Word proclaimed in the living faith expressed in our worship. The liturgy is the first and proper context of the Church’s listening to God’s Word. The Assumption of Mary can put an exclamation point on this foundational lesson of biblical history and how we read the Scriptures in a Catholic way. One important understanding of the Scriptures is that they are read in a typological way. That means that the Old Testament prepared the way for the New Testament and that persons, images, and events in the Old Testament are “types” that prefigure persons, images, and events in the New Testament. So for instance, figures like Moses and Elijah are revealed through typology to prefigure Christ. Again, the People Israel prefigures the Church. As Christ and the Church are prefigured in the Old Testament, likewise so do the images of the woman, mother, and queen prefigure Mary in the New Testament.
While we don’t have passages of Scripture that make explicit reference to the assumption, we do have passages that refer to the ark of the covenant. And this is key for our observance of the assumption of Mary. The ark of the covenant in the Old Testament was the dwelling place of God with His people Israel; the ark was His sanctuary on earth (Ex. 25:8). The ark was the sacred chest, the container that carried within it those precious signs that were incarnations of God’s presence and promise: namely, the ark contained the tablets of the Ten Commandments (Ex. 25:16), a golden urn containing the manna from the desert, and the staff of Aaron that had budded miraculously as a sign of the priesthood. The ark was made of acacia wood (Ex. 25:5), which was known as a hardy, incorruptible wood. The ark was covered in pure gold, and veiled in a cloth of blue (Num. 4:5-6). It was placed in the holy of holies in the sanctuary. This should sound familiar to a catholic and should get us thinking typologically about Mary.
Since the Gospels do not record an account of the assumption, the Church chooses the Gospel of the Visitation. That choice deserves some attention. There are similarities in the passage of the Visitation that hearken back to the Old Testament, to King David’s triumphal transfer of the ark of the old covenant into Jerusalem, recorded in the 2 Book of Samuel 6. There we read that David rose and went to the hill country of Judah to bring up the ark of God. David exclaims, “How can the ark of the Lord come to me?” He leaped before the ark as it was brought into the city with joyful shouting. Considering this joy before the ark of God’s dwelling we can appreciate the devastation when, upon exile, the ark disappears and is not seen again. The Gospel of the Visitation echoes this Old Testament event of the ark. Mary who is carrying God-incarnate in her womb goes out, like David, to the hill country of Judah, and she visits Elizabeth. Before the presence of God contained in the ark of Mary, John leapt in his mother’s womb, like David had leapt and danced before the ark. Elizabeth cries out in joy, like David had done, and asks “how can the mother of my Lord come to me?” The Gospel of the Visitation shows that Mary is not only the Mother of Jesus, but also the New Ark of the Covenant. With this in mind, the Gospel of the Visitation has been read by the Church for centuries typologically as an account of the ark’s return, a return not just to the earthly Temple, the sanctuary made by hands, but rather to its proper place in the heavenly sanctuary, since the earthly Temple is a copy of the heavenly one.
The first reading of this solemnity opens with the apocalyptic vision of St. John from the Book of Revelation. That reading began, “God’s temple in heaven was opened, and the ark of his covenant could be seen in the temple.” St. John is given a vision of the true and lasting Temple, the one not made by hands, but in Heaven. It’s as if the veils or curtains, the parts and divisions of the heavenly Temple, are opened and St. John sees all the way into the holy of holies, the inner sanctuary where the ark is kept. And immediately, coinciding with this vision of the ark, as if the same image in different form, St. John reports next: “A great sign appeared in the sky, a woman clothed with the sun, with the moon under her feet, and on her head a crown of twelve stars.” By choosing the Gospel of the Visitation and St. John’s vision, the Church wants to instruct us on how the faith has viewed Mary from ancient times. She is the fulfillment of the Ark of the Covenant. She is the New Ark.
Mary’s first privilege from God, that she was chosen by Him to be the mother of His Son, tells us that for all the reverence and care for the ark of the Old Covenant, Mary is greater still for she is the New Ark. As fitting as it was that the ark of the old covenant be placed in the holy of holies, how much more does it make sense that God’s chosen daughter, and the vessel of the Incarnation of the Son, should be preserved from the corruption of the grave and dwell in God’s presence in the heavenly temple where He is worshiped? Thus, the choice by the Church to have us listen to the Gospel of the Visitation and St. John’s vision in the first reading tells us something important about Mary and helps us situate our faith in her assumption within the context of where the ark should rightfully dwell.
In celebrating Mary, we are reminded that God is with us. As the New Ark, Mary fulfills to a greater extent than the signs of old that God is with us because she contained not just the old types of the commandments (God’s Word in stone), the manna, and the staff of priesthood, but rather she contained God’s Word-made-flesh, the Bread of Life come down from heaven, the one Who is the great and eternal High Priest. Finally, we not only celebrate her rightful dwelling in the heavenly temple, but we find in our faith in her assumption a reminder of God’s loving invitation to us that we follow the life of grace, as did Mary, so that we may take up our place in the vision seen by St. John, the heavens opened for us by the Savior who came to us through Mary the New Ark, assumed body and soul into heaven.
Audio recording of Fr. Stephen Hamilton’s homily for the Solemnity of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary.
Reading I Rv 11:19a; 12:1-6a, 10ab
Responsorial Psalm 45:10, 11, 12, 16
Reading II 1 Cor 15:20-27
Gospel Lk 1:39-56
Dominica XVIII per Annum B
1 August 2021
We are currently in a tour through the sixth chapter of St. John’s Gospel, known as the Bread of Life discourse. This chapter is a prime location of Jesus’ teaching and our faith in the Holy Eucharist, that ordinary bread and wine become his Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity in the Blessed Sacrament of the Altar. This is a distinctively catholic belief, a matter of our identity as catholics, and a litmus test of sorts for the authentic faith, such that lesser notions that would render the Holy Eucharist as only a reminder or a symbol of Jesus, or as somehow still ordinary bread, must be clearly rejected as uncatholic opinions. And yet we struggle to maintain this full and catholic faith when our eyes see only the outward appearance of bread but cannot see the substance of what the thing is. Therefore, our affirmation of the clear scriptural teaching about bread and wine being the true and real Body and Blood of Jesus is something that requires from us an act of faith.
There is a tendency in our fallen human nature to see, but to fail to recognize. There is a tendency to see and to focus almost exclusively on the things of this world while failing to elevate our mind and our thoughts to see higher realities. Here at our parish we go to great lengths to avoid the pitfall of thinking of the Holy Eucharist in an impoverished or lower way. Our primary experience of the Holy Eucharist is at Holy Mass. And so, here we give great attention to reverence in how we observe the Mass, reverence in how we handle and in how we receive the Holy Eucharist. We emphasize greater solemnity in how we conduct the Mass. We know the value of sacred music that serves to lift the mind and the heart, to help it soar above the tendency to think in mundane ways about the Holy Eucharist. We adopt that ancient posture by which we all gather around the altar yet face together a common focal point of the Lord in our midst on the altar, even as that posture reminds us we are in a procession to look for, and to await, and to move toward the Lord when he returns in glory. And outside of the Holy Mass, we have the opportunity to elevate our minds about the truth of the Holy Eucharist by committing to spend time in our adoration chapel, coming to know more intimately the Lord who is truly present in the Blessed Sacrament there displayed.
Why do we take such effort to keep our minds elevated and strengthened in what is the proper catholic faith about the Holy Eucharist? Are we really susceptible to a lower theology, to thinking in a more mundane way and being weak in our faith? The answer is yes. We operate in a sense perceptible body, which means it is very easy and natural to us to focus on what we can touch, and see, and hear, and measure… to focus on material realities. And in our fallen nature our human powers of the mind and of the strength to direct and control ourselves face defects and weakness. When you couple our fallen nature with the tendency to trust that which we can perceive with our senses, the risk is that higher realities of the spiritual realm that are more difficult to measure are viewed as less reliable or suspect or even fantasy. Do we live surrounded by mundane thoughts and tendencies? Yes, we do. We live in a highly individualistic age hijacked by the relativism that makes the self the arbiter of self-made truth that stands in contrast to plain matters of objective reality. Consider some examples of lower, muddled thinking in our time: Cultural elites invoke “the science” to stop all debate about highly complicated variables that go into their regularly-wrong predictions about climate change and human extinction, yet the plainly obvious science about reproduction and the child in the womb escapes them. Or does it really escape them? Yes, they know a thing or two about human extinction. We are constantly barraged by mundane slogans like “love is love,” that undermine the truth of the clear design of the complementarity of the sexes. Marriage, designed by God and set in the natural law, is now anything man wants to make of it. It is lower, muddled, and increasingly delusional thinking that trumpets that men can be women and women can be men and there isn’t any discernible, fixed, and physical distinction between them. It seems clear to me that we religious-minded types have a much more serious and consistent respect for, and grasp of, the science whose origin is the same God we worship. And the lower and muddled thinking of our age regularly tells us that “devout” and “catholic” go together even when that devout catholic supports positions, like the ones I just mentioned, that are contrary to the faith.
When we come upon John 6 I would normally focus my homily on expressing and explaining Catholic teaching on the Holy Eucharist. I summarized that teaching at the very beginning of this homily. But my attention this time in John 6 is drawn to a subtle lesson that underpins the Lord’s teaching and his awareness of our tendencies. The Lord knows we tend to suffer from weak minds in our fallen nature and so we need to elevate our thinking. In the Gospel passage the crowd comes looking for Jesus after they had been miraculously fed with bread (we heard this account last week). Jesus notes their mundane motives when he says, “you are looking for me NOT because you saw signs but because you ate the loaves and were filled.” In other words, you ate the bread I miraculously provided for you but you didn’t see the signs, you didn’t recognize what that means. The Lord makes it still more clear in what St. John next records him saying, “Do not work for food that perishes but for the food that endures for eternal life, which the Son of Man will give you.” In other words, he’s saying, you are hungry again and are coming for physical or ordinary bread that perishes; you need to elevate your thinking and seek the bread that endures, that is above, that nourishes not just the body but nourishes you to eternal life. But their minds are focused on lower things, mundane things, things that do not last. The crowd may have been privileged to see Jesus miraculously multiply bread but they didn’t recognize it as a sign of God acting in their present moment. Instead they are still looking for a sign from him and their main point of reference is not the present but the past. For they say to the Lord, “Our ancestors ate manna in the desert.” Jesus focuses them (and us) on the present moment and on what God is doing for them: “my Father gives you the true bread from heaven…. I am the bread of life.”
Listening to John 6 today I suggest we renew our full and proper Catholic faith in what the Holy Eucharist is, because by it the Lord is inviting us to see, to recognize, and to trust that he is operating in our midst, in our present moment now, to nourish us for eternal life, if we will recognize the call to first live an authentic communion with him by prayer, good moral life, seeking absolution for our sins, and presenting ourselves in a worthy way for his total gift of self. We need to recognize the dangers of that tendency to succumb to mundane and lower ways of thinking by which we focus mostly on the things that perish. And for that reason we should seek all the more to know and to nourish our catholic faith, to elevate our minds, to “seek what is above where Christ is seated at the right hand of God” (Col. 3:1). St. Paul seems to make a similar observation in today’s second reading: “you must no longer live as the Gentiles do, in the futility of their minds;… you should put away the old self of your former way of life, corrupted through deceitful desires, and be renewed in the spirit of your minds, and put on the new self, created in God’s way in righteousness and holiness of truth.”
Homily for the Eighteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Brothers and sisters:
I declare and testify in the Lord
that you must no longer live as the Gentiles do,
in the futility of their minds;
that is not how you learned Christ,
assuming that you have heard of him and were taught in him,
as truth is in Jesus,
that you should put away the old self of your former way of life,
corrupted through deceitful desires,
and be renewed in the spirit of your minds,
and put on the new self,
created in God’s way in righteousness and holiness of truth.
—Eph 4:17, 20-24
Reading I Ex 16:2-4, 12-15
Responsorial Psalm Ps 78:3-4, 23-24, 25, 54
Reading II Eph 4:17, 20-24
Alleluia Mt 4:4b
Gospel Jn 6:24-35
Homily for the Ninth Sunday After Pentecost (Traditional Latin Mass), given at the 7:30 AM Mass by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Epistle (1 Corinthians 10: 6-13)
Gospel (Luke 19: 41-47)
Dominica V Post Pentecosten (Extraordinary Form Low Mass)
27 June 2021
IN THE NAME OF THE FATHER, AND OF THE SON, AND OF THE HOLY GHOST. AMEN.
Today’s Gospel selection from St. Matthew, chapter 5, contains the first part of the large section of the Sermon on the Mount. Chapter 5 in particular contains that part of the teachings of the Sermon on the Mount that scholars call the “Antitheses.” These are a series of six statements setting up an antithesis, an opposition, between the Mosaic teaching from the Old Testament and the fulfillment of that teaching in the New Testament. It treats of serious topics like anger, lust, divorce and remarriage, and the swearing of oaths. We hear only of the first antithesis in today’s selection. Our Blessed Lord notes in the Sermon on the Mount in the verses immediately before this passage that he has not come to abolish the Law and the Prophets but rather to fulfill them. In other words, while there is a difference in how the Mosaic Law taught about matters, the Lord is not abolishing it but rather completing it, transforming it, transcending it…. to bring it up to the level of the Kingdom of God. The Mosaic Law established a foundation, an incomplete and imperfect one, but one that was sufficient in God’s mind for its time and was what His people were prepared, at the time, to receive. We might consider the location of the giving of the Mosaic Law as a sort of image for what Jesus is doing here. The Mosaic Law was received from God and given to the People at the bottom of the mountain. With his New Law that fulfills the Old Law it’s as if the Lord is wanting to bring his People up to the top of the mountain to a deeper encounter and union with God. We do not repudiate the Mosaic Law or join in that ancient heresy that viewed the Old Testament God as somehow a different God; but with the advent of God’s Word in the flesh, the Lord Jesus, in the New Covenant it is time to live for more. In fulfilling the law and the prophets, our Blessed Lord is not removing or deleting or abolishing them. They are the important foundation for his higher teaching.
We are well aware, or at least we should be, that being a disciple of Jesus involves some fundamental requirements. It involves obedience to God and worship of Him alone. It involves acceptance of, and submitting to, specific teachings revealed by God in the Old Covenant and maintained and deepened in the New Covenant of Christ. It involves acceptance of, and active membership in, the one Church that the Lord established as our Mother and our guide, believing that the Church, in her official teaching capacity, speaks to us with the very voice of the Good Shepherd. It involves baptism and an appropriate sacramental life. And at its very core, being a disciple of the Lord involves our response to the call to be holy, it involves our moral life. The moral life cannot be excluded from our belonging to Jesus. Unfortunately, that is a controversial statement in an age that tends to make the self the only reference point for moral truth, even placing the self above grave matters of the moral law. The Lord teaches us that the moral life cannot be excluded for a disciple when he says: “Except your justice abound more than that of the Scribes and Pharisees, you shall not enter the kingdom of heaven.”
The antithesis we hear about today has to do with anger and insults. In the Old Covenant Moses forbade murder: Thou shalt not kill. But in the New Covenant, the Lord goes far beyond murder to forbid anger and insults. And just like that, we are all perhaps considering something we said this past week, or something we posted on social media, or some family dispute, or some bad blood we hold deep in our heart toward someone. The Lord notes that whoever is angry with his brother, and whoever says “raca,” an Aramaic word which means something like numbskull, empty headed, or worthless, something like “idiot,” and whoever says “you fool!” shall be in danger of judgment and fire. In the New Covenant fulfillment of the Law and the Prophets we come to learn that there is more inherent in the commandments; they are not only the often negatively phrased “thou shalt nots.” Rather, they contain far more and indicate the heights of virtue to which we are called.
So how do we respond to such a higher calling? How can we attain a justice or a righteousness that surpasses that of the Scribes and the Pharisees? I suggest an answer can be found in that Jesus concludes this first antithesis on anger and insults with a reference to one’s offering at the altar. If you go to the altar to offer your gift and you recall that your brother has anything against you, “leave there thy offering before the altar, and go first to be reconciled to thy brother” and then come to offer your gift. In other words, if we fail in justice or righteousness, if we fail not because we have taken physical life, but because we have killed another’s spirit with anger and insults, then we have failed to ascend the summit of the encounter with God and thereby, at the altar our offering is impeded. That sounds like a tall order. We live at a time when the powerful elite can and do convince themselves that their manifest grave sin in promoting abortion, gay marriage, and transgender ideology doesn’t even prevent them from approaching the altar for Holy Communion, and they are aided by derelict bureaucrats masquerading as bishops and priests. And here is the Lord saying even to be angry and insulting to another impedes one’s offering at the altar. He refuses the offering of one who has a heart set against his kingdom. To be clear, the Lord is not indicting the emotion of anger that will rise in us to a greater or lesser degree based on our fallen nature and based on some aspects of our own personality. What he is indicting is that to consent to that anger, to consent in such a way that leads to acting out upon it by outbursts and insults towards another is sinful; it fails to surpass the justice of the Old Covenant, and it impedes one’s sacrificial offering. You see, the Lord is not undoing the Old Covenant law against murder, rather he is driving it deeper into the human heart and getting to the root cause of murder, which is wrath and anger, the desire to hurt someone else for revenge.
Fulfilling the law of our Lord’s kingdom is a tall order. But we must resist the temptation of our fallen nature and resist joining in the chorus of some of the protestant reformers that would lead us to think this is impossible or that our free will does not present us with a real ability to choose. How can we have hope of attaining to the transformed, loftier heights of the fulfillment of the Lord’s teaching? Because we can participate in the very life of God and we are strengthened in charity by God’s action that emboldens our efforts. God is love and He shares His life generously with us. This is at the heart of the collect of this Mass, “O God, who hast prepared for them that love Thee such good things as pass understanding; pour into our hearts such love towards Thee, that we, loving Thee in all things and above all things, may obtain Thy promises which exceed all that we can desire.” Let our offering of prayer and penance and especially the offerings we each bring to Holy Mass, to the mountain of Calvary, serve as a focus to examine and test ourselves to see and admit what might impede our offerings and so to receive anew the charity of God that emboldens us so that we do not remain only at the foundation or base of the mountain, but rather that we ascend up to the top of this mountain of Calvary, to the deeper union with God that He makes possible in His great love that is beyond understanding.
IN THE NAME OF THE FATHER, AND OF THE SON, AND OF THE HOLY GHOST. AMEN.
Homily for the Twelfth Sunday in Ordinary Time by Fr. Stephen Hamilton
Jesus was in the stern, asleep on a cushion.
They woke him and said to him,
“Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?”
He woke up,
rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, “Quiet! Be still!”
The wind ceased and there was great calm.
Then he asked them, “Why are you terrified?
Do you not yet have faith?”
—Mk 4:38-40
Reading I Jb 38:1, 8-11
Responsorial Psalm 107:23-24, 25-26, 28-29, 30-31
Reading II 2 Cor 5:14-17
Alleluia Lk 7:16
Gospel Mk 4:35-41
Dominica XII per Annum B
20 June 2021
Today’s brief Gospel passage from St. Mark shows us a miracle that demonstrates that Jesus is God. The miracle of the Stilling or the Calming of the Storm shows us the identity of Jesus as God. The passage concludes with the question of the disciples who are in awe at his power. They ask: “Who then is this whom even wind and sea obey?” That the passage ends with this question, I suggest, highlights it is a question for each of us, a question we must each face and answer. Who is Jesus really? Do I have faith that He is God?
First, we need to appreciate the context to grasp the significance of the miracle. The setting is the Sea of Galilee. The Sea of Galilee is a good-sized lake, about 7-8 miles wide at its widest. More importantly, it is known to have sudden storms whip up. Most of us know that it can be very soothing to be out on water when the water is peaceful. But to be in a small boat when a storm whips up is very dangerous and terrifying. We need to notice the words of the Gospel passage itself, which describes the storm as a “violent squall” with waves breaking over the boat such that the boat was filling up and in danger of sinking. Added to this context is that we know the occupation of most of Jesus’ apostles who were with him. They were fishermen and they knew the Sea of Galilee well. That these experienced fishermen were terrified and convinced they were perishing gives us still more context to see just how serious and powerful a storm this was. In a striking contrast to the details about the seriousness and the danger of the storm we have the description of Jesus asleep on a cushion through it all, taking his rest and undisturbed by a storm that the men in the boat with him knew could very well take their lives. They cry out: “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” Jesus wakes up, and in an exorcistic response confronting evil, he rebukes the wind and he commands the sea, “Quiet! Be still!”
Today the first reading and the psalm selection together with this Gospel are all remarkably similar and place before us a clear theme and revelation of God’s identity and power. Today’s psalm shows us sailors conducting their business on the sea in ships. The psalm highlights the powerful works of God who made the sea and who controls it. In the psalm a storm rises up with wind and waves that toss the ships about, such that the hearts of the sailors “melted away in their plight.” In the psalm, the sailors cried to the Lord in their distress. In the Gospel, the apostolic sailors cried out to Jesus. In the psalm, the Lord rescued them by hushing the storm and stilling the waves. In the Gospel, Jesus rebukes and commands the storm wind and waves. By placing this exact psalm together with today’s Gospel selection, the Church is expressing her faith that this miracle demonstrates the divinity of Jesus. Furthermore, combatting any pagan notion that Jesus is simply somehow one God among many, putting this Gospel together with this psalm identifies Jesus with the God of the Old Testament. Jesus is the God who in the Old Testament calmed the storm and was sung about in Psalm 107. Jesus shows this power in the miracle on the Sea of Galilee.
So, with this context helping us grasp the full threat of the storm and, thereby, the full manifestation of Jesus’ power as God in confronting it, I want to draw our attention to the question Jesus asks after waking up and snuffing out the storm. He asks, “Why are you terrified? Do you not yet have faith?” The word used by Jesus and translated as “faith” can have a couple of important meanings and usages. Both meanings are important to us as believers. “Faith” can refer to the intellectual assent we must make to the truths of the faith. So, for instance, we have recently celebrated liturgically in the past few weekends doctrines such as our belief that God is one God in Three Divine Persons, a Holy Trinity. We have celebrated our faith that Jesus continues to be made present in the Holy Eucharist by which he remains with us and, when we are worthily prepared in a state of grace, we may participate in the Holy Eucharist by receiving that gift as divine food in Holy Communion. But notice that the need for faith in the midst of the storm in today’s Gospel is not that meaning of the word that refers to intellectual assent. In other words, the disciples are terrified and they call out; Jesus calms the storm, but he is not asking them an intellectual matter, as in “Why don’t you believe enough in the doctrine of the Trinity?” He is not saying to them, “If only you would have recited the Creed.” No, faith has another principal meaning here and it too needs our attention. The question of Jesus after the storm is more about faith as trust, trust in God, trust in His power, trust in His working even when our limited human powers are threatened.
Over the years, I have had many interactions with people who might well identify with the image of serious storms in life. It’s the story of Job from the first reading, a story that fits so well with the psalm and the Gospel message about storms. Life will toss us about in its storms. Like Job we may suffer terrible loss. It would be foolish to think we will sail through this life without some serious turmoil and struggle, storms caused perhaps by others around us; storms caused perhaps by our own weakness, sinfulness, and poor choices; storms caused perhaps by defects in our character, emotional and psychological suffering, stuff internal to us that just is, even though we might not be guilty for choosing it… the list goes on. Who is Jesus for you in such experiences of life? Do you have faith – trust – in him? Sometimes praying in our adoration chapel makes me consider how perfect an image it is for our passage through the sea of this life, an image of today’s Gospel. Jesus is there displayed in our chapel. He is still and quiet, almost as if sleeping on a cushion of the boat. You and I come in there, into that “boat,” with all the stuff going on in our lives. But he is with us! Sometimes the sounds outside surrounding the chapel, especially in the daylight hours, remind me of that contrast of storm versus Jesus calmly asleep with full power. I may be in that quiet chapel but internally I may bring much noise and storminess. I may be in the quiet chapel but outside perhaps it is the voices of children playing on the playground, or the sounds of cars, or lawn mowers, or roofers… and don’t even get me started when someone flushes one of our toilets and it sounds like a rocket is taking off… All this noise surrounds us, the storms surround us… distracting us… demanding our attention… but Jesus is with us quiet and still. In preparing for this weekend’s homily I found myself wanting to encourage and to make a clear call to each of you to find time to dedicate to prayer in our chapel with Jesus who is really there. Yes, we can and should pray anywhere, and especially in our homes. But sometimes the journey to get up, to make a little pilgrimage, to leave our home, and to leave our busy activities, and get into the boat of our little chapel to be with Jesus in our storms is what is also needed. I want to encourage you to make frequent visits to adore Jesus in the chapel. I want to encourage you to contact the office and our adoration program to commit to a time of prayer in the chapel. You won’t regret it!
When we come to the chapel with the external and internal storms of life, it seems to me we can powerfully live today’s Gospel passage. We come there in the quiet and we might want to call out to wake Jesus up, “Don’t you care that I am perishing?” The faith that is trust needs attention and needs to be exercised so that we come to experience Jesus who is God and who is the same God as in the Old Testament who calms the storm. In the boat of the chapel we can’t pretend the storms of our lives aren’t circling around us. Part of growing in that faith that is trust is learning to call out to God in our need and in the sometimes humiliating storms we can’t so easily control. So often in life we both start and stop with only what our own power can accomplish. Inspired by the revelation in today’s passages that Jesus is God, may we come to call out to the Lord. Our calling out to him, our waking him up so to speak, just as in the Gospel, is the precursor to his powerful command: “Quiet! Be still!”
Homily for the Eleventh Sunday in Ordinary Time by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading I Ez 17:22-24
Responsorial Psalm 92:2-3, 13-14, 15-16
Reading II 2 Cor 5:6-10
Gospel Mk 4:26-34
Homily for Corpus Christi, The Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ, by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading I Ex 24:3-8
Responsorial Psalm 116:12-13, 15-16, 17-18
Reading II Heb 9:11-15
Sequence Lauda Sion
Alleluia Jn 6:51
Gospel Mk 14:12-16, 22-26
Sollemnitas Corpus Christi
6 June 2021
This annual Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ (commonly called in Latin, Corpus Christi) is our opportunity to sharpen our focus so that we never take for granted that the Holy Eucharist is the Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity, of Jesus Christ. For those of us who are here week after week, taking time to clearly state what the Holy Eucharist is and what it requires of us who desire to receive it may seem rather elementary. However, we never want to take the faith for granted or assume we are immune to decreased faith. The grind of daily life can weaken our faith too. And in an age that greatly underplays what we owe to God and what we must observe to be eligible for receiving Holy Communion, it seems important to take some time to refresh our appreciation of this most august Sacrament.
More recently, following Joe Biden’s ascent to the Presidency, the topic of what is required to receive Holy Communion and what is meant by worthiness to present oneself for Holy Communion has been pushed into the spotlight. Truthfully, the controversy over self-described “devout Catholic” politicians who consistently advocate policies at odds with grave matters of Catholic doctrine (like the promotion and advancement of abortion and same-sex marriage) is a controversy that has existed, sadly, for a long time. When you also consider that we live in an age of slogans that are given the weight of moral imperative – slogans like “welcoming” and “inclusion” and “tolerance” – we need to keep our wits about us and not let sentimentality cause us to deviate from proper Eucharistic faith and practice. I want to suggest that understanding eligibility for Holy Communion (a) stems from and supports our teaching and faith in what the Holy Eucharist is; (b) that it can be understood positively; and, (c) that it actually gives zeal to our evangelical and missionary impulse to work to bring others into Eucharistic communion.
First, let’s remind ourselves clearly of what the Holy Eucharist is: Given the many foreshadowings in the Bible indicating God’s feeding us with bread from Heaven, and given the climax of that promise at the Last Supper, we believe that Jesus transformed bread and wine into the substance of his Body and Blood. We believe that he left this gift to his Church for nourishment and so that he would be always with us in his Real Presence. We believe that he left us a means to have this sacrificial food provided to us by establishing his apostles as the first priests. Having a validly ordained priesthood, which carries that shared authority from Christ, a valid priesthood that exists in the Catholic Church, we believe that at Holy Mass bread and wine are transformed into the Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity of Christ. This gift is not dead flesh, but the living, resurrected flesh of the Lord. This gift comes about by the will of God the Father, by the power of God the Holy Spirit who is called down upon the gifts, and by the words of consecration that were uttered by God the Son, and which are spoken over the gifts by a Catholic priest. The priest becomes an instrument through which Jesus our Great High Priest acts to make this gift present to the Church in every time and place. Thus, after consecration the bread and wine are no longer understood as bread and wine but rather the Body and Blood of the Lord in their substance. And they are reverenced and worshipped as the Eucharistic presence of God in our midst. Any lesser language regarding the Holy Eucharist does not fully communicate the Church’s faith and, in fact, lesser language may well be heresy especially if it gives the false notion that the Holy Eucharist is merely a symbolic presence of Christ, which it is not.
That the Holy Eucharist is the Body and Blood of the Lord is the ancient and constant faith of the Catholic Church. Listen to the witness of the Scriptures:
From John 6:49-51: Jesus taught his disciples, “I am the bread of life. Your fathers ate the manna in the wilderness, and they died. This is the bread which comes down from heaven, that a man may eat of it and not die. I am the living bread which came down from heaven; if any one eats of this bread, he will live for ever; and the bread which I shall give for the life of the world is my flesh.”
From Mark 14:17-21: At the Last Supper Jesus “took bread, and blessed, and broke it, and gave it to them, and said, ‘Take; this is my body.’ And he took a cup …. And he said to them, ‘This is my blood of the covenant’.”
In the first decades of the Church’s life St. Paul gives witness to Eucharistic faith in his writings.
From 1 Corinthians 10:16: “The cup of blessing which we bless, is it NOT a participation in the blood of Christ? The bread which we break, is it NOT a participation in the body of Christ?”
From 1 Corinthians 11:27-30: “Whoever, therefore, eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be guilty of profaning the body and blood of the Lord. Let a man examine himself, and so eat of the bread and drink of the cup. For any one who eats and drinks without discerning the body eats and drinks judgment upon himself. That is why many of you are weak and ill, and some have died.”
These are rather inexplicable words for St. Paul to utter – that receiving Holy Communion unworthily, to take it without examining oneself or discerning what it truly is, is to eat and drink judgment upon oneself, causing sickness and death – these are strange words indeed if the faith of the Church was that the Holy Eucharist is only symbolic. Writing almost one hundred years after the death of St. Paul, we find the words of St. Justin, a martyr, that show us the requirements for admission to the Holy Eucharist: “we call this food Eucharist, and no one may take part in it unless he believes that what we teach is true, has received baptism for the forgiveness of sins and new birth, and lives in keeping with what Christ taught” (CCC #1355). The words of St. Justin give us three prerequisites for admission to Holy Communion: No one may take part unless (1) he believes that what we teach is true. That means a person must be in a teaching or, we can say, doctrinal communion with the Church in order to receive Holy Communion; (2) unless he has received baptism. That means a person must be in a sacramental communion with the Church in order to receive Holy Communion; and, (3) unless he lives in keeping with what Christ taught. That means a person must be in a moral communion with the Lord by how he lives his life. This ancient witness of Catholic faith and practice surrounding the Holy Eucharist tells us that these aspects of communion are prerequisites and must precede the reception of Holy Communion. In other words, taking Holy Communion does not makes sense, and is forbidden, where a person is not first baptized and living a sacramental communion with the Church, where a person does not share the same doctrine or communion of faith, and where a person’s moral life is inconsistent with the demands of Christ. This still applies to us today. This means that if any one or more of those aspects of communion is not in place a person is not eligible for Holy Communion. These prerequisites for Holy Communion that must precede reception of the Sacrament apply equally to non-Catholics and Catholics alike. Sometimes people think that “closed communion” means only that non-Catholics are not able to receive. That is not true. Even a Catholic would find himself ineligible for Holy Communion were he not living a sacramental communion (as in the case of a marriage outside the Church), or were she to reject some definitive teaching of the faith, or were he to be guilty of grave sin that was not yet confessed.
If we believe that the Holy Eucharist is the Body and Blood of the Lord then these aspects of practice frankly make sense and serve to support the true faith. If I believe that the gift of the Lord’s Real Presence is true and is here on the altar then that faith requires something of me. It makes demands on me. If the Lord gave the ultimate sacrifice to offer me the Holy Eucharist as nourishment, do I really think I can receive that gift without myself making sacrifice to live in communion with him? One can see how these requirements for practice stem from the authentic faith and serve to highlight and communicate nonverbally the true faith in the Holy Eucharist. Next, the unhappily named policy of “closed communion” can then be understood positively. Closed communion is not observed in order to be unwelcoming or to exclude non-Catholics. As if it were some club membership mentality. No, it means a person must be living a full communion with the Lord before receiving Holy Communion or else the act of taking Holy Communion is lacking and may be an empty and even sacrilegious gesture or act. And since this practice applies equally to Catholics, closed communion is not about being offensive to anyone. Rather, it is more about recognizing the implications for taking Holy Communion: namely, that I have examined myself and I first observe a communion of life that must precede taking Holy Communion because to fail to do so is to eat and drink judgment on myself as the Scriptures say. It is actually an act of mercy and charity to teach clearly on this and to prevent someone from unworthy communion because of the implications for eternal judgment. If we have a spiritual vision united with the Lord we can see this quite easily. A worldly vision will not be able to see. With this in mind, too, it is actually an admirable expression of faith even to refrain from receiving Holy Communion where some prerequisite for communion must first be healed. In fact, many are here in our gatherings week after week, catholic and non-catholic alike, who demonstrate an admirable faith precisely by refraining from Holy Communion. To refrain in such instances is a sign of respect and faith and points out the reality of the Holy Eucharist just as much as someone who reverently and worthily receives the Sacrament. We hope and pray for all such good souls that whatever temporary obstacles impede Holy Communion may be removed soon in order to live a deeper union with the Lord. Finally, holding a proper faith and practice about the Holy Eucharist gives zeal and focus to our work as disciples to speak and to model the faith such that we bring others into a deeper communion with the Lord and his Church that ultimately can lead to a person’s ability to participate fully in Eucharistic communion. You see, we do not receive the nourishment of the Holy Eucharist as a prize unto ourselves. If we receive it, we do so understanding that we are called to be living members of the Body of Christ who give witness to Christ and who share in the mission of making disciples. Our reverence at Holy Mass directs attention to the Lord in our midst. Our commitment to take part in our Perpetual Adoration program gives us exposure to the Lord who remains in our midst and who strengthens us for mission. Our wonder and awe at the gift of the Lord in the Blessed Sacrament of the Altar draws others into the saving work of Christ and leads them to the deeper union that gives nourishment and life to souls by the blessed and worthy reception of Holy Communion.
Homily for the Solemnity of the Ascension of the Lord by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading I Acts 1:1-11
Responsorial Psalm Ps 47:2-3, 6-7, 8-9
Reading II Eph 1:17-23
Alleluia Mt 28:19a, 20b
Gospel Mk 16:15-20
Homily for the Fifth Sunday of Easter by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading I Acts 9:26-31
Responsorial Psalm 22:26-27, 28, 30, 31-32
Reading II 1 Jn 3:18-24
Alleluia Jn 15:4a, 5b
Gospel Jn 15:1-8
Homily for the Third Sunday of Easter by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading I Acts 3:13-15, 17-19
Responsorial Psalm 4:2, 4, 7-8, 9
Reading II 1 Jn 2:1-5a
Alleluia Cf. Lk 24:32
Gospel Lk 24:35-48
Homily for Holy Saturday At the Easter Vigil in the Holy Night of Easter by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading I Gn 1:1—2:2
Responsorial Psalm Ps 104:1-2, 5-6, 10, 12, 13-14, 24, 35
Reading II Gn 22:1-18
Responsorial Psalm Ps 16:5, 8, 9-10, 11
Reading III Ex 14:15—15:1
Responsorial Psalm Ex 15:1-2, 3-4, 5-6, 17-18
Reading IV Is 54:5-14
Responsorial PsalmPs 30:2, 4, 5-6, 11-12, 13
Reading V Is 55:1-11
Responsorial Psalm Is 12:2-3, 4, 5-6
Reading VI Bar 3:9-15, 32--4:4
Responsorial Psalm Ps 19:8, 9, 10, 11
Reading VII Ez 36:16-17a, 18-28
Responsorial Psalm Ps 42:3, 5; 43:3, 4
Epistle Rom 6:3-11
Responsorial Psalm Ps 118:1-2, 16-17, 22-23
Gospel Mark 16:1-7
Homily for Good Friday of the Lord’s Passion by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading I Is 52:13—53:12
Responsorial Psalm 31:2, 6, 12-13, 15-16, 17, 25
Reading II Heb 4:14-16; 5:7-9
Verse Before the Gospel Phil 2:8-9
Gospel Jn 18:1—19:42
Homily for Holy Thursday, Evening Mass of the Lord’s Supper by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading I Ex 12:1-8, 11-14
Responsorial Psalm 116:12-13, 15-16bc, 17-18
Reading II 1 Cor 11:23-26
Verse Before the Gospel Jn 13:34
Gospel Jn 13:1-15
“Amen, amen, I say to you,
unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies,
it remains just a grain of wheat;
but if it dies, it produces much fruit.”
— Jn 12:24
Homily for the Fifth Sunday of Lent by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading I Jer 31:31-34
Responsorial Psalm 51:3-4, 12-13, 14-15
Reading II Heb 5:7-9
Verse Before the Gospel Jn 12:26
Gospel Jn 12:20-33
Homily for the Third Sunday of Lent by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading I Ex 20:1-17
Responsorial Psalm 19:8, 9, 10, 11
Reading II 1 Cor 1:22-25
Verse Before the Gospel Jn 3:16
Gospel Jn 2:13-25
“This is the time of fulfillment.
The kingdom of God is at hand.
Repent, and believe in the gospel.”
Homily for the First Sunday of Lent by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading I Gn 9:8-15
Responsorial Psalm Ps 25:4-5, 6-7, 8-9
Reading II 1 Pt 3:18-22
Verse Before the Gospel Mt 4:4b
Gospel Mk 1:12-15
Homily for Ash Wednesday by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading I Jl 2:12-18
Responsorial Psalm 51:3-4, 5-6ab, 12-13, 14 and 17
Reading II 2 Cor 5:20—6:2
Verse Before the Gospel See Ps 95:8
Gospel Mt 6:1-6, 16-18
Homily for the Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time and adult Confirmation by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading I Lv 13:1-2, 44-46
Responsorial Psalm Ps 32:1-2, 5, 11
Reading II 1 Cor 10:31—11:1
Alleluia Lk 7:16
Gospel Mk 1:40-45
Jesus came to Galilee proclaiming the gospel of God:
“This is the time of fulfillment.
The kingdom of God is at hand.
Repent, and believe in the gospel.”
Homily for the Third Sunday in Ordinary Time by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading I Jon 3:1-5, 10
Responsorial Psalm Ps 25:4-5, 6-7, 8-9
Reading II 1 Cor 7:29-31
Alleluia Mk 1:15
Gospel Mk 1:14-20
“Behold, the Lamb of God.”
Homily for the Second Sunday in Ordinary Time by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading I 1 Sm 3:3b-10, 19
Responsorial Psalm Ps 40:2, 4, 7-8, 8-9, 10
Reading II 1 Cor 6:13c-15a, 17-20
Alleluia Jn 1:41, 17b
Gospel Jn 1:35-42
Homily for the Solemnity of Mary, Mother of God by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
‘Called in the Gospels "the mother of Jesus", Mary is acclaimed by Elizabeth, at the prompting of the Spirit and even before the birth of her son, as "the mother of my Lord". In fact, the One whom she conceived as man by the Holy Spirit, who truly became her Son according to the flesh, was none other than the Father's eternal Son, the second person of the Holy Trinity. Hence the Church confesses that Mary is truly "Mother of God"‘ (Theotokos). (CCC 495)
Reading 1 NM 6:22-27
Responsorial Psalm Ps 67:2-3, 5, 6, 8
Reading 2 GAL 4:4-7
Alleluia HEB 1:1-2
Gospel LK 2:16-21
Homily by Fr. Hamilton at the Mass During the Night on the Solemnity of the Nativity of the Lord (Christmas).
Reading 1 Is 9:1-6
Responsorial Psalm Ps 96: 1-2, 2-3, 11-12, 13.
Reading 2 Ti 2:11-14
Alleluia Lk 2:10-11
Gospel Lk 2:1-14
Homily for the Fourth Sunday of Advent by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
When King David was settled in his palace,
and the LORD had given him rest from his enemies on every side,
he said to Nathan the prophet,
“Here I am living in a house of cedar,
while the ark of God dwells in a tent!”
Nathan answered the king,
“Go, do whatever you have in mind,
for the LORD is with you.”
But that night the LORD spoke to Nathan and said:
“Go, tell my servant David, ‘Thus says the LORD:
Should you build me a house to dwell in?’“
— 2 Samuel 7: 1–5
Reading 1 2 SM 7:1-5, 8B-12, 14A, 16
Responsorial Psalm PS 89:2-3, 4-5, 27, 29
Reading 2 ROM 16:25-27
Alleluia LK 1:38
Gospel LK 1:26-38
Dominica II Adventus B
6 December 2020
“Attitude is everything!” It’s a common phrase highlighting that a good attitude and positivity really can change your outlook and can frame your life in such a way that, even when things are difficult and maybe not so good, you can be positive, and joyful, and happy. And there seems to be some truth to that notion. A positive good attitude breeds more of the same. Get outside and enjoy some sunlight and fresh air, put away negative thoughts, laugh around a campfire with a good beverage, or just stop and call to mind the good you do have… these and so many other simple things are likely to positively impact you and those around you. And studies even show that such positivity and focus on the good can have a real measurable impact on a person’s overall health and wellbeing.
It seems fundamental to our nature that we are drawn to goodness. It is attractive to us. We love hearing good and positive news. And on the flip side, aren’t we often aghast when something evil and tragic happens? Think of an attack that takes many lives. Our reaction to such things reveals that it’s like we can’t even imagine the degree of evil that sometimes displays itself in our world, so fundamentally good are we. And can’t we say that too – that negativity, bad things, and evil really do shock us – can’t we say that too demonstrates our fundamental orientation to goodness and positivity? Even if people who do not ascribe to faith would not want to admit a divine origin of the goodness in us, they still recognize the basic fact of our goodness and our attraction to it. As a person of faith, I am inclined to see in our natural orientation to positivity and goodness signs of our origins. We believe we are made in God’s image and likeness, right? If the supreme Good Himself made us, shouldn’t we expect that marks and characteristics of our Maker are present in us, just as an artist or craftsman leaves his marks in the things he makes? Our fundamental goodness and orientation to positive things can be considered like the thumbprint of an artist in the clay he molds. God made us and so no surprise that goodness and positivity resonate in us.
So, what am I doing with this homily this weekend? Well, I’ve written a few self-help pop-psychology books I’ll be selling in the narthex… No! No moral therapeutic deism here. Far more than a basic self-help principle that “attitude is everything,” there is a faith principle and a theological truth we desperately need to latch onto. We have Good News! We have been claimed by Good News Himself, the Word of God in our flesh, Jesus the Christ! We need to spend far more time with, give far more focus to, the Good News than we do the bad news. Doing so will put you more in touch with the fundamental truth that God loves you and that He is in control. Doing that will positively impact you. A solid grasp on the fundamentals of our teaching can also serve to remind us of these things. Fundamental matters like, God is good and He made the world to be good. By the guilt of our first parents, sin and disorder entered this world, yes. But God did not abandon us. In His great love He sent His Son to suffer the disorders of our world and to bear our sins. Jesus redeemed us. And though as we pray soberly in the Salve Regina, we still walk in this valley of tears, we have forgiveness for sin and grace to advance in holiness toward the hope of eternal salvation. This is Good News!
It is so easy to be wrapped up in and saturated by the bad news. Yes, we know things in our world need fixing. We are disturbed by the evil and lies that surround us. We have anxiety about the state of affairs in our world, our leaders, and their agendas. And we have worries and frustrations about Church leaders too. We each have our personal struggles and pains. No matter what you think of the science or the motivations, together we bear a psychological exhaustion with the events of this year. I think I’ll scream if I have to think or say “COVID-19” one more time. And I’m just about ready to trash all the “Closed” signs on every other pew. Yes, negativity, darkness, and bad news is out there. But if we believe in Jesus then we must catch ourselves when we give more attention to the bad news, to the kingdom of darkness, than we do to the Good News and the Kingdom of Light! We don’t have to be naïve and pollyanish about our own sins and the problems in the world and in the Church. Sober acknowledgement and challenge of those things is needed. But be careful! If we have been claimed for Christ and if we truly live as his disciples then we are a people of the Good News!
You know, right, that “Good News” and “glad tidings” are literal meanings of the word we translate as ‘Gospel’? This weekend in the Scriptures the little appearances and reminders of Good News jumped out at me. “Give comfort to my people, says your God.” “Speak tenderly.” “In the desert prepare the way of the Lord! Make straight in the wasteland a highway for our God!” We should evaluate ourselves. Think of what others who really know you might really say about you and your attitude, the things you say, the way you act, the things everybody can read on social media. Are you and I known more for spreading the bad news? God’s word through Isaiah said, “herald of glad tidings; cry out at the top of your voice… herald of good news!” I know we have worries. Legitimate ones. I know it is easy to be wrapped up in what is going poorly. I know things can feel like a desert or a wasteland. But still at the start of a new Church liturgical year, something about the Gospel today caught my attention. Did you notice how St. Mark gets right to the point? Whereas other Gospels spend significant space describing the conception, the birth, and the infancy of Jesus, how the whole story began, St. Mark makes a beeline to refer to his writing as the ‘Gospel’: “The beginning of the Gospel,” the first line today said. Again, that word for Good News and glad tidings.
Brothers and sisters, by faith and by baptism we have been brought into the Kingdom of Light inaugurated in our midst. Yes, we still await the final fulfilment of that Kingdom in Heaven. And yes, in this in between time of waiting, so characteristic of Advent, we have to suffer the disorders of our fallen world, we have to suffer our own sins and the sins of those around us. But we cannot give more thought and attention and energy to the bad news than we do to the Good News that defines us. Think of it this way: We cannot live as children of the light as effectively as we must if we give more attention to the Devil and his kingdom and the bad news than we do to Jesus and his Kingdom and the Good News. We have received the message of faith. We are called to be messengers of the same for others. “A voice of one crying out in the desert: ‘Prepare the way of the Lord, make straight his paths’.”
A voice of one crying out in the desert: ‘Prepare the way of the Lord, make straight his paths.’”
Homily for the Second Sunday of Advent by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading 1 IS 40:1-5, 9-11
Responsorial Psalm PS 85:9-10-11-12, 13-14
Reading 2 2 PT 3:8-14
Alleluia LK 3:4, 6
Gospel MK 1:1-8
'Well done, my good and faithful servant.
Since you were faithful in small matters,
I will give you great responsibilities.
Come, share your master's joy.’
In today’s homily Fr. Stephen Hamilton tackles the doctrine of Indulgences in the Church.
Reading 1 PRV 31:10-13, 19-20, 30-31Responsorial Psalm Ps 128:1-2, 3, 4-5Reading 2 1 THES 5:1-6Alleluia JN 15:4A, 5BGospel MT 25:14-30
Homily for All Souls Day also known as the Commemoration of All the Faithful Departed and the Day of the Dead, a day of prayer and remembrance for the souls of those who have died, by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading 1 WIS 3:1-9Responsorial Psalm PS 23:1-3A, 3B-4, 5, 6Reading II ROM 6:3-9Alleluia MT 25:34Gospel JN 6:37-40
Homily for the Solemnity of All Saints by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading 1 RV 7:2-4, 9-14Responsorial Psalm PS 24:1BC-2, 3-4AB, 5-6Reading 2 1 JN 3:1-3Alleluia MT 11:28Gospel MT 5:1-12A
Dominica XXVIII per Annum A
11 October 2020
I want to engage in a thought experiment with you. Suppose you want to build a new home. You ask around to get the best contractor you can find. You are enticed by one builder who comes with many recommendations. The builder has a great reputation in the region for using some of the best quality materials especially for roofing structures and for safe rooms. Living in Oklahoma, the reputation for great quality safe rooms and roofing draws you in. But as you meet and interview the builder you discover that he likes to build his houses on sand. It seems obvious to you that building on sand is not a good idea but every time you bring it up he keeps insisting that his roofing and safe rooms are of the highest quality in the region.
But does the house stand? Does the safe room stand especially when you need it most? These would be your natural and logical questions. Sure, the materials the builder uses might be the best around, they might somehow be better and more cost-effective than any other builder on the market. But, doesn’t the foundation matter? We would likely all say that a builder should have good materials and a sound building plan for a safe room and a roof. It is good that he has such high-quality materials and reputation for such things. But… the foundation! How can you talk about your roofing and safe room materials if the entire foundation of the home is not stable and, in fact, is a false foundation?
The critical importance of a foundation is obvious to us in the material realm, something like a house as I just described. In fact, I bet most of us would say the builder’s claims and those who celebrate his reputation are absurd. It makes no sense to sell how good your roofing work is and your safe room materials are when, being built on a poor foundation, the whole thing crumbles anyway. This same logic consistently applies and should be easily seen in the moral realm too. Foundations matter. Fundamental things matter. First things matter. You get first things, fundamental things, incorrect and what follows will not have the value it should have, or will not be reliable, because the most fundamental issues are flawed. A literal house and a figurative moral house cannot stand on a flawed foundation.
Applying this thought experiment to the moral realm I want to offer some comments this weekend on our upcoming elections and our moral duty as Catholics to be involved in the proper ordering of our society by the important task of voting and voting with a well-formed Catholic conscience.
At the outset I need to anticipate the pushback. This is not an inappropriate topic for a sermon in church. And it does not violate any perceived tax law regarding tax-exempt institutions and the separation of Church and State. My words today are about moral principles and platform issues and NOT about any one particular candidate or political party. Part of the proof for this is that these words today can be applied not only to this year’s election but to any future one. In other words, this isn’t just about this year. In fact, still more proof that this is not about any one party or candidate, a portion of what I say today is borrowed (I cut and pasted it) from words I spoke on this topic in the lead up to the 2004 and the 2008 elections – when there were entirely different candidates and when there were some notable differences in the national party platforms. In other words, the same moral principles apply no matter the election year and no matter the party and no matter the candidates.
Patriotism (I spoke on that back on the July 4th weekend) is a virtue and participating in civic life by voting is one fulfillment of patriotism. As Christians we do have a responsibility to God to seek to order this world He has made according to the Natural Law and in a way that promotes godly life. There is separation of Church and State. That principle seeks to prevent the formation of a state-sponsored official religion, and to prevent a person’s religion being the reason that person flourishes or does not flourish in the State. Separation of Church and State should not be understood however to mean that religious people or religious values are not welcome in the public square. It can be very easy for us to be cynical about political life, politicians, and voting. Especially with national politicians you might hear it said that they are all in bed with lobbyists and big money. On the flip side, others might claim a politician’s record or platform might appear great but that he or she isn’t really sincere and is just doing the right thing to get votes. These comments may in fact be true. But our voting should not be based on personality or presumed insincerity of a given candidate. I know that if I were to make voting decisions based on whose characteristics are most likable, or just least offensive, I would cast very different votes than voting based on policy. We should vote based on a candidate’s stated platform, what the record shows he or she is likely to do, and based on those issues that are most critical to the common good and which do not permit, morally speaking, differences of opinion. In other words, the well-formed Catholic conscience first looks at those issues that are most fundamental and foundational to the common good. There are some issues in our fallen world that are objective moral absolutes and there are other issues that permit diverse opinion based on prudential judgment. It’s analogous to the difference between the foundation of a home and those things that come later like a safe room and the roof.
As with any moral matter we must do good and avoid evil. The same is true when evaluating issues, party platforms, and political candidates. Some issues involve such a grave disorder of what God has established in creation, such disrespect to fundamental human dignity, that they are always and everywhere immoral and can never be legitimately supported. Such issues are called intrinsically evil (USCCB, Faithful Citizenship, 22; hereafter FC). As people of faith our non-negotiable opposition to these is demanded by the gravity of the issues themselves. A prime example of this is the intentional taking of innocent human life. Human life and the right to life is the most fundamental human good and it is the condition for all other human rights and goods. Just as it is not sound reasoning to overlook a home builder’s poor choice to build on sand while advocating his great safe rooms and roofing, likewise it is not good moral reasoning to focus on a platform’s or candidate’s great plans for dealing with poverty and education or other issues if you overlook his support of an intrinsic evil like the taking of innocent human life. The basic and foundational right to life is the condition for all other goods. Abortion is always and everywhere an intrinsic evil and while something like euthanasia is also an example of an intrinsically evil violation of human life – by the numbers – abortion kills thousands more lives daily than does euthanasia and so abortion demands more of our scrutiny when voting. To be sure, the right to life is linked to other rights and other issues in our civic life that either help or harm the flourishing of human life. However, it is insufficient moral formation to treat the right to life as just one issue among many. Frankly, a party, or a platform, or a candidate could have the best sounding ideas for other issues related to life (like education and health care) but if all that is predicated on escaping the womb it is a very weak and immoral platform indeed. “It is a mistake with grave moral consequences to treat the destruction of innocent human life merely as a matter of individual choice. A legal system that violates the basic right to life on the grounds of choice is fundamentally flawed” (FC 22). Other issues that are intrinsic evils and are non-negotiable for a well-formed Catholic conscience, though not an exhaustive list, are embryonic stem cell research, human cloning, and same-sex marriage.
Often our electoral choices present to us the challenge that one candidate supports one intrinsic evil, while the other candidate supports a different intrinsic evil. How do we choose between the two? In such cases we likely have to evaluate the magnitude of the given evil. As I said earlier, abortion kills far more people and demands more attention and is not equaled by the number of times euthanasia is committed. For example, I looked at stats from the State of Oregon, a state which permits both abortion and euthanasia. In 2016, publicly available numbers indicate that 133 deaths were registered due to euthanasia that year versus 8,942 registered due to abortion. Though both issues are intrinsically evil, when faced with having to make an electoral choice between the two it is clear which issue demands more attention since one is significantly more prevalent than the other. And what if both candidates support the same intrinsic evil? In that case, we would have to try to discern which candidate’s platform and record might at least lessen the evil or be less extreme. In most cases we will find a mixed bag due to each candidate supporting one non-negotiable issue over another. Thus, we have to evaluate whether a candidate gets it right on the fundamental right to life, and then on other non-negotiable issues try to pick the candidate whose policies would do less harm. A well-formed Catholic conscience can never cast a good moral vote hoping to advance an intrinsic evil supported by a candidate if you are voting precisely to promote that same intrinsic evil.
Still other issues in our civic life permit a variety of response and are based upon prudential judgment. They are not classified as non-negotiable issues because they are not intrinsic evils. We should also be interested in these issues, things like promotion and defense of the public order, addressing poverty, health care, education, respect for the environment, crime, civil rights, judicial appointments, capital punishment, immigration, and international peace. But, like the roof or the safe room in my analogy, these issues are less fundamental than the basic good of human life. They do admit a variety of opinions while maintaining a well-formed Catholic conscience. We do not want to ignore any of these issues. Yet, we must also recognize there is a hierarchy of issues. The foundation, the fundamental good of human life comes first. Get that wrong and no matter how good other policies sound really what you have is a house of cards.
As Catholics with a well-formed Catholic conscience we apply these moral principles to party platforms and to particular candidates so as to make the best decisions we can when we vote. We have dual citizenship. We are citizens of this country and of this world, the city of man. Yet, by faith and baptism we are made citizens of heaven. We are called to order this world in accord with the Natural Law, which anyone with reason can access and know, and we are called to order this world according to the commands of God even as we strive to be prepared to enter the heavenly wedding feast of the Father’s Son. Among other things, our well-formed conscience and our moral deeds, reflected in our voting, they vest us like the image of the Gospel parable, in the proper wedding garment required of those who are both invited and chosen.
With only weeks until the upcoming US Presidential election, Fr. Stephen Hamilton shares an important reflection on what it means when the Church instructs us to vote with an informed Catholic conscience.
Reading 1 IS 25:6-10A
Responsorial Psalm PS 23:1-3A, 3B-4, 5, 6
Reading 2 PHIL 4:12-14, 19-20
Alleluia EPH 1:17-18
Gospel MT 22:1-14 OR 22:1-10
In his homily for the Twenty-fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Fr. Stephen Hamilton reflects on the parable of the Unforgiving Servant in Matthew’s Gospel.
Reading 1 SIR 27:30—28:7Responsorial Psalm PS 103:1-2, 3-4, 9-10, 11-12Reading 2 ROM 14:7-9Alleluia JN 13:34Gospel MT 18:21-3
Homily for the Twenty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
If today you hear his voice, harden not your hearts.
Reading 1 EZ 33:7-9
Responsorial Psalm PS 95:1-2, 6-7, 8-9
Reading 2 ROM 13:8-10
Alleluia 2 COR 5:19
Gospel MT 18:15-20
Dominica XXIII per Annum A
6 September 2020
This weekend is a most embarrassing Gospel for modern ears. It’s embarrassing because Jesus encourages and even demands that his disciples commit sin! Jesus encourages the most grave modern sin that is universally denounced even by non-Christians… he encourages us to meddle in other people’s business and to be “judgmental.” It’s as if a person’s soul and its eternal destination matters! Now, I trust you see I am being a bit facetious. Jesus, who is God, certainly is not encouraging sin. And though we might be uncomfortable with fraternal correction and though we know in our modern setting that we are almost assuredly going to be denounced for practicing fraternal correction in religious and moral matters, it is NOT sin to correct another. And, in fact, to confront another whose sin is grave and which places his soul in jeopardy is a serious obligation of charity – not just an idea you might try sometime if you really have to – but a serious obligation of a believer. It is ironic, no, that in an age that quickly denounces fraternal correction as being judgmental, the same accusers easily and quickly trade in their pious sanctimony and become among the worst offenders who broadcast someone else’s faults, mistakes, and sins to listening ears or all over social media.
Despite the way modern ears may want to reject correction, we must be serious about the lesson from Jesus in this passage that there is an authentic fraternal correction and that it is something we may need to be prepared to do. Now, to be sure, there can be wrong and bad ways to go about fraternal correction. And there can be ways to go about it that are in fact being “judgmental”. But it is equally true, we must admit and be clear, that the mere fact that some attempts at correction can go astray does not mean all attempts at fraternal correction are motivated by judgmentalism. We certainly know that Jesus is encouraging an authentic fraternal correction that is serious, that is charitable, and that is personal in that it demands a sincere human encounter and interaction with a brother or sister. Failure to do fraternal correction in a good and a holy way is easy to spot. Going up to someone guilty of grave sin and initiating the contact by claiming he or she is going to hell is not likely to go well. We can all think of images of true failures – even sinful failures at correction. Have you seen images of some of those radical groups who claim to be Christian and who show up to protest at funerals or other gatherings, holding huge placards announcing how God hates certain people, or how God rejoices in the death of certain people? Jesus does not encourage us to do that. Yet, he also doesn’t encourage us to be weak. And in an age that prizes individualism and is marked by relativism, as if each person is the center and arbiter of his own absolute moral truth, we must admit that we are in fact called to confront sin. And we are called to do so in a specific way and with the heart of Christ.
This fraternal correction harkens back to some of the earliest biblical evidence for the common responsibility we have for one another. We can note the biblical account of the brothers Cain and Abel. When Cain killed his brother out of jealousy and God asked Cain where his brother was, Cain famously asked, “Am I my brother’s keeper” (cf. Gen. 4:9)? God rejected that claim. None of us is alone or an island unto ourselves. We are brought into relationship and into community and we have responsibility to one another. You can see why the first reading from the Prophet Ezekiel was selected and placed with the Gospel passage for this Sunday. Here the Prophet Ezekiel is told that part of his duty is to be a watchman and someone who warns others. If a wicked person is committing evil and the prophet does not speak out and attempt to convert the evil doer, God says the evil doer will die as is appropriate for his sin, but what’s more, the prophet will be held responsible for the death. We are responsible for one another. This lesson comes to deeper development in the instruction of Jesus in today’s Gospel passage about fraternal correction.
Now certainly these Scripture lessons have a direct and most serious application to the service of those who are prophets and, in the case of the Gospel, the apostles. By extension this serves as instruction for those who follow after the apostles in shepherding Christ’s flock. Thus, bishops and priests have a most serious obligation here. And would that more in their ranks exhibited a noticeable courage to be watchmen in the Church for the salvation of souls. We can and should pray for that. And we should find charitable ways to motivate our shepherds to such courage. But, by extension, we can apply this call to fraternal correction to others in the Body of Christ, as a call to all Christians to be so committed to the salvation of souls that we seek to speak out when we encounter a brother or sister in the faith sinning gravely. Imagine the good that can be done for a soul when parents and family members speak out when a child is straying from the faith, supporting immoral lifestyles, cohabiting with a dating partner, or marrying outside the Church. Imagine the good that can be done when a believer speaks to a friend and encourages a deeper conversion to the faith. Imagine the good that can be done when a parent encourages a child or a friend encourages another person to go to confession or to be more faithful in attending Holy Mass. And sometimes it’s the inverse. It is a child who becomes the inspiration to the adults to draw closer to Christ.
No matter how uncomfortable we might be with fraternal correction and no matter how modern society might dismiss it as being judgmental, a lesson for us today is that we are our brother’s keeper and that to be a believer united to Jesus Christ as a member of his Body not only means that I myself must separate myself from sin and repent, but also that I must be concerned to see others in the community likewise leave sin behind. We cannot be a part of Christ if we are not apart from sin. See what I just did there? In fact, acknowledging our own sinfulness, making regular use of confession, and having zeal to change our own ways likely helps us also be in the best position to approach a fellow disciple who needs correction, and to do so with the mind of Christ.
Some things stand out in this Gospel about how we are to approach this duty of fraternal correction. First, we must note that we are speaking here of serious sin. Sin that if not stopped places a person outside of the fold of the Church. That’s why Jesus says, if they won’t listen even to the Church treat them as a Gentile or a tax collector. That is, someone cut off and excluded from community. Jesus is not encouraging us to be busybodies about smaller or lesser sins. Yes, it’s obnoxious that a fellow disciple lied and claimed to not get your email. Yes, it would be better if a disciple did not drop a colorful word. Yes, it’s annoying that a fellow parishioner promised to bring the brownies to the meeting and then didn’t even both to show up! This is not what Jesus is talking about. He’s talking about serious sin that cuts someone off from the community. Things like fornication outside of marriage, adultery, serious theft, using God’s Name in vain, idolatry and worship of false gods, not being in a valid marriage, etc. Second, note how personal this is. Don’t go broadcasting someone’s sin. Jesus tells us to go to the person and he repeatedly reminds us this is a ‘brother.’ Go speak to the person alone. If he won’t listen, then take one or two others. If he still won’t listen then bring in the authority of the Church. Have a direct personal encounter. Let your brother or sister see your concern and hear from your heart of your love and concern for a gravely sinful situation. I think the injunction to personal encounter here is instructive. You have to have courage and own your concern and exhibit charity in order to look someone in the eyes and raise an uncomfortable topic. It is comparatively easy and weak to do what most people do: avoiding touch issues altogether, trolling in the darkness online, assassinating someone’s character in tweets and facebook posts. This is not Christian behavior. Third, note the context here. This Gospel passage fits in with what preceded and the lesson of seeking out what is lost. What is the value underlying and motivating the confrontation of a sinner? The motivation is not being “right” or showing yourself to have some imagined doctrinal or moral superiority. Rather, what motivates the confrontation is the value of a fellow disciple, a human soul made in God’s image and likeness, the object of God’s love for whom He desires salvation. This value can be seen in the Gospel language of having “won over” your brother. The value is not the being right but gaining or winning a soul. Finally, the goal of Jesus’ instruction is preventing a grave sinner from continuing in his sin with an unrepentant heart. He invites us who are members of his Body to share in his mission to call others to repentance in order to have salvation.
When it comes down to it, do you believe that Jesus is God? And do you believe that we must change our ways and be conformed to him to have salvation? If you do, then fraternal correction really isn’t all that controversial. If you don’t, well, today’s psalm spoke about a hardened heart.
In today’s homily Fr. Stephen Hamilton reflects on the story of Jesus’ encounter with the Canaanite woman in Matthew’s Gospel.
Reading 1 IS 56:1, 6-7Responsorial Psalm PS 67:2-3, 5, 6, 8 Reading 2 ROM 11:13-15, 29-32Alleluia MT 4:23 Gospel MT 15:21-28
Dominica XVIII per Annum A
2 August 2020
After being rejected in his hometown of Nazareth (cf. Mt. 13:54-58) and after receiving the bad news about the death of his cousin John the Baptist (cf. Mt. 14:3-12) today’s Gospel selection begins with Jesus responding by withdrawing to a deserted place. As on so many other occasions crowds hear of Jesus’ location and they form to get near him. Some verses later the disciples are thinking logistics and practicalities of so many people being gathered that they ask the Lord to send people away because “this is a deserted place.”
We have had a lot of bad news lately and so much around us is deeply confusing and disturbing and lacking hope. Many of us are confused, concerned, afraid, angry, or just mentally exhausted by the lack of stability. Perhaps that explains why in my own reflections on this Gospel passage the two mentions of the “deserted place” stand out. What does it mean to call the location of today’s passage a deserted place? It clearly isn’t empty of people – because a very large crowd has gathered – but it is a place seemingly empty of possibility. It is deserted in the sense of not being hospitable or convenient. It is a deserted place because it is lacking in something necessary, in this case adequate food. It is deserted in the sense that it is a place to leave and get away from in relationship to some place better. What spiritual message can we find in reflecting upon our own deserted places? What are our deserted places?
Maybe for us it is literally a location, literally a place, or a thing. Maybe we would say it is the world around us. We see its order seem to dissolve into chaos, civil unrest, the proliferation of ideological slogans and untested, unproven claims of widespread systemic injustice in our country and in her institutions. Maybe the deserted place that comes to your mind is the humanity of the Church Universal. So many bad stories of weak leadership, scandal, and criminal sin from those who owe God and owe us better. The Church closed down for months. Does that mean we have adopted a fatal notion that we are somehow non-essential? The Church now opened, thanks be to God, but far from normal. So many people still not back. I keep detailed stats from our weekends of being reopened. Our attendance is good compared to other parishes, but still our best weekend so far has been only 44% of our normal total average weekend attendance. Maybe the Church is more literally a deserted place now than we’d like to imagine.
What else might be our deserted places? Perhaps instead of some literal place, it is something existential. Might a deserted place be some empty place in our life or in the life of a loved one, a friend, a spouse, or a child? The deserted place might be some challenge in life. Some suffering. Some experience of difficulty that is dry and inhospitable. A deserted place in life might be where we don’t have enough of something we need for a good and a holy life. A deserted place could be some dark part of life where we think God is restrained from working.
Consider the places that come to mind when you reflect on where the Lord would like you to permit Him to be with you. Is your inclination in the spiritual life to quickly say “let’s get out of here?” “Let’s move away from here and go to where we have seemingly more richness and blessing?” Sort of like the tendency of the disciples in the Gospel: “Dismiss the crowds [Lord] so that they can go… and buy food for themselves.” Or we focus on what little we have and like the disciples we say, “Five loaves and two fish are all we have here.” Jesus responds: “Bring them here to me.” Bring what you have. Bring what you think is not enough. Bring yourselves. Give it to me. Let me do with it what you cannot do and what you think cannot be done with so little.
In the Old Testament God’s covenant is tied to the image of eating and drinking, it is tied to bread and wine. We see this frequently in the prophecies of Isaiah (cf. 25) and it is the hint and reference at the conclusion of today’s first reading. That reading called God’s people to come to a free, generous, and rich meal. It said, “You who have no money, come, receive grain and eat; Come, without paying and without cost, drink wine and milk.” The notion of eating, the notion of a rich banquet meal, is connected to God’s covenant relationship with us. Did you notice how that first reading mentioned this promise of rich food and then could conclude: “I will renew with you the everlasting covenant, the benefits assured to David?”
There are some striking similarities in this Gospel passage of the miraculous feeding to the Last Supper. It takes place in the evening, as did the Last Supper. The attendees recline on the grass, as the apostles reclined at table at the Last Supper. There are the same actions and in the same order in this miracle as in the Last Supper. Jesus took, blessed, broke, gave. As much as we want to get away from our deserted places, might we take a lesson from the Gospel and see them as places where the Lord is ready to be present and to work and to do more than we can imagine in His covenant love for us? To let him work there we have to resist the temptation to flee and to get away to some place we think is better. We have to resist the temptation to take ourselves to where we think we already have a sufficiency, where we already have enough, where we have what we want, where we have what we think we need. To let him work in our deserted places we have to give the Lord permission to work in us and with us. Jesus told the disciples: “Bring them (the loaves and fish) here to me.” We are invited to bring the truth of all that we have and all that we are to the Lord. So that, like the actions in this passage and in the Last Supper, the Lord might take, and bless, and break, and give. Oh, but the breaking part… can we just skip that part? Not if our deserted places and not if we ourselves are to be brought into the Lord’s covenant. It was in the Lord’s being broken on the Cross that we were saved. It was in the breaking open of his tomb that we have hope for resurrection. It is in the breaking of the bread that eyes are opened to the presence of Jesus. So, yes, we have to remain in our deserted places. We have to permit the Lord’s covenant work by bringing all to him. In repentance and in confession we let him break what is sinful and bless what must be healed. In Holy Communion, if we receive it, we are given the Lord’s total gift of self, recognizing in it a call to covenant life by which we too must give of ourselves.
Resist the impulse to flee, bring the Lord everything, and be with him even in the deserted places. He will take, bless, yes, He will break, and He will give. A covenant of newness of life will result if we will stay in the places that seem empty and if we will enter into relationship with Him there. And if so we will find sufficiency beyond our expectation and a superabundance of blessing for there will still be more left over. “They all ate and were satisfied, and they picked up the fragments left over – twelve wicker baskets full.”
Reflection on the feeding of the multitudes for the Eighteenth Sunday In Ordinary Time by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading 1 IS 55:1-3
Responsorial Psalm PS 145:8-9, 15-16, 17-18
Reading 2 ROM 8:35, 37-39
Alleluia Mt 4:4b
Gospel Mt 14:13-21
Dominica XIV per Annum A
5 July 2020
Our Catholic philosophical and theological tradition identifies virtues. Virtues are habitual and firm dispositions to do what is good. The Catechism of the Catholic Church adds the following about virtues: “It allows the person not only to perform good acts, but to give the best of himself. The virtuous person tends toward the good with all his sensory and spiritual powers; he pursues the good and chooses it in concrete actions” (CCC, 1803). Those virtues called theological are direct gifts from God. We can picture them as being infused within us by God as gifts that form and perfect our interior being. As an extension or outgrowth of these gifts from God are those other virtues that are acquired by our effort, our training, and our personal discipline called moral virtues. The moral virtues perfect our exterior actions, they aid the greater ease by which our exterior actions conform to our interior being once it has been transformed by God’s gifts. St. Gregory of Nyssa says “The goal of a virtuous life is to become like God” (CCC 1803, footnote 63).
Focusing on the humanly acquired moral virtues, the Church’s tradition identifies the virtue of justice as one of the four main, or cardinal, moral virtues. Justice is that habit and firm disposition to give to others what is owed to them, what is their due. The virtue of giving to others what is owed to them is expressed in some different ways. The great philosopher and theologian, St. Thomas Aquinas, treats justice (Summa, II-II, Q. 101, Of Piety) in a way that fits well with the greatest command in the Gospels: the love of God and the love of neighbor. Growing out from justice, like a branch on a tree, is the virtue of religion. This is that specific moral virtue expressing justice by which we give to God what properly is His right. The virtue of religion disposes us to give primary attention to the worship we owe to God and to live in accord with His image and likeness, in which we have been made. At every Mass, once the gifts of bread and wine are prepared on the altar, the priest prays the following to the Heavenly Father, “It is truly right and just, our duty and our salvation” to worship God as an act of thanksgiving. It is just. It accomplishes justice. It is our duty and it saves us. Again, continuing as an outgrowth, like a branch, the moral virtue of filial piety is an extension of justice that is directed to give what is due and owed to our parents and to our country. Since we come from our parents and since we come from a particular fatherland we owe a certain reverence, respect, care, gratitude, and support to our parents, our relatives, our country, and our fellow citizens. We are indebted to various persons who have had some important impact in our lives and to the place of our birth, the place of our nourishment and growth, that has governed and shaped us by its culture and its values. The Greek and Latin term for ‘father’ is what forms the root for this filial piety toward one’s country, the patria. We commonly call this piety to one’s patria patriotism.
In the turmoil presently enveloping our country, and since Independence Day coincides with this weekend, I want us to hear that patriotism, love for and respect for one’s country, is a virtue and it should mark our lives as Catholics and as Americans. This is not a call to nationalism whereby one pretends one nation is morally superior to all others, or whereby one acts as if one’s nation does not have faults that need to be addressed. It is also not a call to xenophobia, whereby foreigners or those of different cultures are feared or even hated. Such ideas would not be virtuous at all. Much like we might have a basic respect for a family member who has faults, a virtuous person likewise cannot flag in his love for his country, even while admitting the complicated history that marks her, a history complicated precisely because men and women of every age who form a nation and its history are men and women with a fallen nature who have both good and bad qualities. I can both exercise a filial piety, a devotion and respect toward my parents and relatives and, at the same time, not support, recommend, or promote everything they do. The same is true in our devotion to our country. So, what might explain the wave of hostility and anti-American spirit that seems to be spreading across these United States of America?
There is confusion among our fellow citizens about what we owe our country. When you consider that patriotism is part of the family of the cardinal virtue of justice this confusion (sadly) should not surprise us. Since much of our country is confused about the nature of justice – what is owed to others – no surprise that further downstream we find laxity in the virtue of patriotism. If you don’t have a right relationship with God first, don’t be surprised that relationships with other persons and toward property and places will be less virtuous and may even become vicious. When more than one generation now has been raised in an atmosphere that is confused about the basic right to life, especially that of the unborn, we have a cataclysmic failure of justice and that will bear bad fruit beyond the most obvious and grave result of the tragedy of lost lives. Less grave, but still disturbing and telling, signs of confusion about justice can be seen in the cascade of lawlessness and self-destruction, revisionist history and rage, directed toward statues and buildings and national parks. Even the trend of kneeling out at the national anthem is a failure of patriotism, a failure of justice toward the country, what is owed to the country. The moral reasoning for this is that if you want to promote authentic and lasting justice you can’t refuse to give what is owed and due in one arena in the hopes of accomplishing justice in another arena.
To be clear so that I am not misunderstood, there is a right to peaceably assemble and to protest in a way that promotes justice. I fully support that. There are fine examples of true and just protest in our country, including protests against racism. But much of what the media these past weeks has portrayed as “protest” is actually rioting, anarchy, and criminal behavior. Domestic terrorism is not authentic protest. It is not just and it does not accomplish the virtue of justice. Hundreds and hundreds of thousands of protestors show up annually for the March for Life in Washington, DC. Crime and violence do not spike in that gathering. Yet far fewer people show up these past weeks in any downtown American city or outside a police headquarters and suddenly people are violently beaten, businesses and cars are on fire, and vandalism leaves the place trashed. I trust it is not at all difficult to see which is authentic and just protest, and which is not.
I think a spiritual source and one cause of the national crisis takes us right back to the root word from which we get patriotism. It is a crisis of fatherhood. I can’t prove it but I can’t help but sense and identify in the images of riots I see from across the country a seething and open rage rising from the absence of authentic fatherhood. I won’t claim it is absolutely applicable to each rioter but I suspect that in most cases someone with a father, or at least a strong father, would not be doing the things we see rioters doing. If a father was absent, or simply weak, or even harmful, what sense would a person have of the reverence and respect owed to parents, to others, and to one’s country? There would be no reverence. But the soul knows it ought to be there. And it aches in the emptiness. I think the Church bears her own responsibility in the crisis of fatherhood, but that is too much to treat in one sermon. In the larger society the break-up of the family, the rise of fatherless children, and the destruction of authentic masculinity are the societal signs of this absence of fatherhood that I suspect is a spiritual pain and a root cause of the rage erupting across our land.
You and I may not have quick solutions or be able to solve a crisis on a national level, but we can respond locally. First, in justice we give the best we can to God and continue to strengthen our relationship with our Heavenly Father, especially in worship, prayer, and personal conversion. Among the many good things our parish does, and while continuing to reverence and promote authentic femininity, we need to promote and nurture masculinity and fatherhood. We need to expect men to be men and to step into the battle, into the breech, to be mentors, leaders, and providers. Most certainly and directly, being a good husband to your wife and being a good father to your children is of prime importance. This fatherhood can extend to be mentors providing stability and influence to other boys, girls, children and teens, in school, in sports, and in religious formation settings. I strongly suspect God will bless virtuous masculinity and fatherhood. I strongly suspect that by it He will help form a strong and growing number of men and women who will positively form our culture now and well into the future according to the plans of our Constitution “to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defence, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity” (Preamble of the Constitution of the United States of America). May God protect our Nation from threats both foreign and domestic and may God bless the United States of America!
In his homily for the Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, which falls on Independence Day weekend, Fr. Stephen Hamilton reflects on virtue, patriotism, and justice in light of the ongoing division in our country.
Reading 1 ZEC 9:9-10
Responsorial Psalm PS 145:1-2, 8-9, 10-11, 13-14
Reading 2 ROM 8:9, 11-13
Alleluia CF. MT 11:25
Gospel MT 11:25-30
Sollemnitas Corpus Christi
Dt. 8:2-3, 14b-16a; 1 Cor. 10:16-17; Jn. 6:51-58
14 June 2020
Today is our annual observance of the Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of the Lord, also called by the Latin name “Corpus Christi.” Our faith in the Holy Eucharist is one of the most essential and defining doctrines we hold as Catholics. And so, I want to take a moment to clearly speak what we believe as Catholics about the Holy Eucharist.
First, take note of the words you hear in the long prayer at the altar, commonly called the Eucharistic Prayer, which is rich, over and over again, in sacrificial language. This should make you consider and realize that what happens at the Holy Mass is a sacrifice. It is the making present again, here in our midst, of the one saving sacrifice of Jesus’ very offering of self on the Cross. In the Roman Canon, the first Eucharistic Prayer, which your priests here tend to use most often, take note of a summary of some key Old Testament sacrifices that foreshadow what Jesus would do and command of his Church. Coming soon after the consecration, these are the words you hear so often: “Be pleased to look upon these offerings… and to accept them, as once you were pleased to accept the gifts of your servant Abel the just, the sacrifice of Abraham, our father in faith, and the offering of your high priest Melchizedek.” All three of these named figures are recounted in the Book of Genesis, after Adam and Eve are expelled from the Garden of Eden. They show us that sacrifice is needed if man’s expulsion from God’s presence is to be healed and if man is to be in right relationship with God. For the sake of quick review, Abel offered a lamb. Abraham was willing to obey the request to offer his own son. Melchizedek offered bread and wine. Maybe the idiomatic light bulb is already going off for you, meaning you better understand what this prayer of the Church places before us as a foreshadowing of God’s fulfillment in Christ: The foreshadowings of a lamb, a son, and bread and wine come together as one and meet their fulfillment in Christ and his New Covenant sacrifice on the Cross. And, very important, given the memorial Jesus established at the Last Supper and commanded to be continued, the Lord has provided the means for that same sacrifice to be sacramentally present in every age and location of his one Church.
And so, for clarity, Catholics believe that, while the appearance does not change, in fact the bread and wine offered at Holy Mass cease to be the substance of bread and wine and become the true and real living and resurrected Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity of Christ. This happens by God’s power in both the sanctifying action of the Holy Spirit and the authority of Jesus, the Son of God, who acts through a validly ordained Catholic priest such that wherever a Catholic priest follows the Church’s authentic prayer and intends to consecrate bread and wine they become the Body and Blood of the Lord. We call this gift of the Lord’s Real Presence the Holy Eucharist. When received by us we call it Holy Communion. This is what every Catholic must hold and reverence. This is the aspect of our faith placed in focus on Corpus Christi. Because of what we believe about the Holy Eucharist, that it is really Jesus’ presence, then it deserves the utmost reverence and care. No reverence can really be too much. If all we have up here is, and remains, only bread and wine, only a symbol of Jesus, or only a reminder of his sacrifice… then frankly it’s just time to go home.
With all this in mind, I want to teach you today to be judgmental. I know that being judgmental is just about the only capital sin that remains in the minds of most modern men. You can sort of imagine the devil capitalizing on this: “I mean, I’m Satan, but I’m not judgmental. The Big Guy takes care of that.” What I want to teach you today is to be judgmental toward yourself. Not toward anyone else. In a move decades ago when the current Mass texts were being decided by the powers that were, at a time when a wider selection of Scripture was being promoted, our sacred liturgy was curiously stripped of any reading of a very relevant Scripture text for today’s solemnity. It is St. Paul’s witness about the institution of the Holy Eucharist and the implications of that faith, what follows from that Catholic faith. And you find this text that we no longer hear at Mass anymore for some reason in First Corinthians chapter 11, the chapter after the second reading today (cf. 1 Cor. 11:27-31). St. Paul writes to the Church in Corinth, “Whoever, therefore, eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be guilty of profaning the body and blood of the Lord…. For any one who eats and drinks without discerning the body eats and drinks judgment upon himself. That is why many of you are weak and ill, and some have died.” St. Paul says therefore that we should examine ourselves before Holy Communion. Be judgmental! Toward yourself, that is. If all we have here is bread and wine it would be a rather strange thing for St. Paul to say it could be received unworthily in a way that brings guilt on one for profaning, not bread and wine, but the body and blood of the Lord. If all we have here is bread and wine it would be a strange thing to say that receiving it unworthily is to eat and drink judgment on yourself, and is the reason that some have even died. Yet, that is the faith of the Church… because it has always been the faith of the Catholic Church, received directly from the Lord. We heard that very faith proclaimed by Jesus in the Gospel selection today.
The basic idea here is that because of what we believe about the Holy Eucharist there are things we do and things we don’t do toward It. We reverence It and worship It as God’s presence among us. We treat It in a way that clearly speaks that It is not ordinary bread or wine. We adore It in prayer when It is elevated at Holy Mass after the consecration and we adore It displayed in our adoration chapel. We do not omit a genuflection toward the tabernacle or kneeling at Mass, assuming health or knee problems don’t prevent us. We don’t receive It, treat It, or handle It casually. We realize we shouldn’t present ourselves to receive It if we are not Catholic. Even if we are Catholic by baptism, we realize we shouldn’t present ourselves to receive It if we have not been fully practicing the faith. Likewise, we realize we shouldn’t present ourselves to receive It if we are not following an important moral teaching. We examine and judge ourselves and so we go to confession regularly in order to be in a worthy state of grace for receiving Holy Communion. We take care to instruct our children and family and other guests here so they understand and follow proper etiquette and are not confused about reception of Holy Communion. And as we have learned recently, sometimes we simply observe a “spiritual communion” as a means to purify our vision and to build a greater longing for the Lord, just as we also observe a physical fast from food in preparation for Holy Communion. I have said before that some of the best examples and witnesses of Catholic faith in the Holy Eucharist are those who respectfully refrain from receiving Holy Communion when they know they shouldn’t receive It. When someone decides to refrain from Holy Communion we shouldn’t assume anything about that person other than they are a courageous soul, with a well-developed faith, and are showing reverence to the Lord’s Real Presence, just as the person does who worthily receives.
Sacrifice is needed if man’s expulsion from God’s presence is to be healed and if man is to be in right relationship with God. The lamb, the beloved son, and the bread and wine are here joined and fulfilled in the Blessed Sacrament of the Altar. On Corpus Christi we observe that the perfect sacrifice that pleases God has been offered by the Son on the Cross, and is made present here in the Holy Eucharist. And so, we examine ourselves in order to live in communion with the Lord whose Holy Communion we desire to receive.
Homily for the Solemnity of Corpus Christi by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Alleluia, alleluia.
I am the living bread that came down from heaven, says the Lord;
whoever eats this bread will live forever.
Reading 1 DT 8:2-3, 14B-16A
Responsorial Psalm PS 147:12-13, 14-15, 19-20
Reading 2 1 COR 10:16-17
Alleluia JN 6:51
Gospel JN 6:51-58
Dominica Pentecostes
30-31 May 2020
[Words in brackets refer to variations of this homily depending on whether the Mass and Scripture readings were the Pentecost Vigil with RCIA entrance into the Church, or the Mass and Scripture readings for Pentecost Sunday.]
Pentecost is one of the greatest solemnities of our faith, observing the descent of the promised Holy Spirit filling the Church and disciples, both in ancient times and now, with God’s gifts for mission. We should understand that some of our feasts have origins in the Jewish faith. Others are unique to Christianity. For example, Christians observe Easter which has a connection to Passover. The Jewish feast of Passover does not observe the same thing as Easter, but they roughly line up on the calendar and in other languages the word for ‘Easter’ bears stronger resemblance to the word for ‘Passover’ than does the English word. Words like ‘Pascha’ and ‘Pasqua.’ As another example, our feast of the Ascension, the Lord’s return in glory to Heaven, is purely Christian and has no Jewish antecedent. As a feast, Pentecost has Jewish origins. In fact, it is one of the three most solemn feasts of the Jewish faith. As a term, “Pentecost” refers to the “fiftieth day,” since the Jewish feast of Pentecost falls fifty days after the Passover. The Passover celebrated God’s saving work to bring His people out of slavery. Upon leaving Egypt the People of Israel arrived at Mt. Sinai about fifty days later (cf. Ex. 19). Jewish Pentecost originally celebrated the harvesting of grain and the offering to God of the first fruits of the earth. Later, Jewish Pentecost came to be an important remembrance of God’s giving of the Law to Moses on Mount Sinai. Thus, as an aspect of Jewish faith, Pentecost observed God’s establishing of a covenant in stone with the giving of the Ten Commandments. It was in part this Jewish feast day that had the apostles, Mary, and other disciples gathered in Jerusalem when the outpouring of the Holy Spirit from the Father and the Son took place, thus marking the beginnings of the transition of Pentecost into a Christian feast. The Church now concludes the Holy Season of Easter with this great solemnity of Pentecost, coming fifty days since Easter Sunday.
From reading the Scriptures you know that prior manifestations of the Holy Spirit had the Spirit descend in the form of a dove (at Jesus’ baptism). What is significant about His descending in the form of fire as Acts of the Apostles tells us about Pentecost Day [Sunday: in today’s first reading]? Why the form of fire? There is a simple but profound answer. Recall the origin of the Jewish feast of Pentecost observing the People of Israel arriving at Mt. Sinai where God gave the Law. Exodus 19 [Vigil: tonight’s second reading] tells us what happened on Mt. Sinai as God came down to His people and spoke to them through Moses. Exodus 19 says, “Mount Sinai was all wrapped in smoke, for the Lord came down upon it in fire. The smoke rose from it as though from a furnace, and the whole mountain trembled violently” (Ex. 19). Thus, fire serves as a sign of the divinity of the Holy Spirit who comes down upon His chosen and redeemed people, not to write His law in stone, but in their hearts [Vigil: as the reading from Ezekiel tonight prophesied]. The Holy Spirit descending in fire serves as a further connection to the fulfillment of God’s past actions in the New Covenant established by the Son, Jesus Christ. Just as the Passover and the Exodus of old are fulfilled in the exodus of Jesus’ death and resurrection, so the Jewish Pentecost of old is fulfilled in God the Holy Spirit descending upon the Church in the form of fire.
For us as Christians Pentecost does not observe God’s covenant with us in stone. Rather, we might say that we celebrate at Pentecost that God’s covenant with us has come closer and deeper than commandments on stone tablets. Since Jesus tells his disciples that it is better that he leaves them so that he can send the Holy Spirit, we might even go so far to say that God’s covenant with us has come still closer and even deeper than when God the Son took on our flesh and showed us divine love in human form. We can make this claim because at Pentecost we observe that if we believe in the Lord Jesus and accept his word and commands, then the Holy Spirit of God comes to dwell within us, to animate us with the very life, power, and love of God. The question, then, for each of us to consider is whether I give God a tender and receptive flesh, heart, and soul in which to take up residence as in a temple? Or do I give God only a stony heart in my relationship with Him?
The responsibility that we each must take for our daily prayer life and our moral living, and the strength from God which comes from the life of the sacraments [Vigil: which you are about to receive] are meant to make us greater temples of the Holy Spirit, more pleasing to God, and more closely conformed to the image and likeness in which we were made, but which sin has disfigured and which sin still disfigures. [Next follows two alternate endings of the homily. The first was given at the Extended Form of the Pentecost Vigil at which the RCIA class entered the Church after COVID-19 closures delayed their normal entrance at the Easter Vigil. The second was given at the regular Pentecost Sunday Mass.]
[RCIA: I am so delighted for each of you this evening. After many weeks of delay, we arrive at such a solemn opportunity to recognize the journey of faith you have been on. We give thanks to God for all the origins of that faith that has led you, the unbaptized, to enter life in Christ, and we give thanks to God for the origins of that faith that you, the already-baptized, received in other communities. You have prayed, and studied, and worked to arrive at this moment. It is fair to say by faith you have already become Catholic. Tonight, we finally make that official and formal by your entrance into sacramental life and full initiation into the Church. Thank you for your perseverance and your patience. I am confident these past many weeks that God has been giving each of us grace, and doing something to prepare us for a mission none of us could predict. Much like the apostles and disciples who did not know what to expect on that first Christian Pentecost, so we must strive and thirst, as the Gospel said, to drink the rivers of living water that the Holy Spirit provides within us, so that we live a deeper life with God and are prepared for the mission He will ask of each of us: a mission to go out and to make disciples. Your thirst is met by the living water of daily prayer. But never forget that the Father had a very specific living water in mind for His people, a living water prophesied and prefigured throughout centuries, finally inaugurated in the covenant of Jesus the Son, placed within us by the Holy Spirit, and meant to be experienced and increased by the life of the sacraments that will now mark your Catholic faith. Give God a tender receptive flesh, heart, mind, and soul to live intimately with Him now and so to have the hope of the eternal communion of Heaven.]
[Sunday: I am confident these past many weeks that God has been giving each of us grace, and doing something to prepare us for a mission none of us could predict. Much like the apostles and disciples who did not know what to expect on that first Christian Pentecost, so we must strive and thirst, as other Gospels say, to drink the rivers of living water that the Holy Spirit provides within us, so that we live a deeper life with God and are prepared for the mission He will ask of each of us: a mission to go out and to make disciples. Your thirst is met by the living water of daily prayer. But never forget that the Father had a very specific living water in mind for His people, a living water prophesied and prefigured throughout centuries, finally inaugurated in the covenant of Jesus the Son, placed within us by the Holy Spirit, and meant to be experienced and increased by the life of the sacraments of our Catholic faith. Give God a tender receptive flesh, heart, mind, and soul to live intimately with Him now and so to have the hope of the eternal communion of Heaven.]
Alleluia, alleluia.
Come, Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of your faithful
and kindle in them the fire of your love.
Homily from the Vigil of Pentecost 2020 in which the Catechumens and Candidates of the 2019-2020 RCIA class entered full Communion with the Church.
Reading 1 GN 11:1-9
Reading 2 Ex 19:3-8a, 16-20b
Reading 3 Ez 37:1-14
Reading 4 Jl 3:1-5
Responsorial Psalm PS 104:1-2, 24, 35, 27-28, 29, 30
Second Reading ROM 8:22-27
Gospel JN 7:37-39
Dominica VI Paschae A
17 May 2020
“If you love me, you will keep my commandments,” says the Lord. Following the Lord’s commandments carries with it a new promise made by Jesus in his remarks at the Last Supper in today’s Gospel selection. Jesus teaches that love should drive us to keep his commands. St. John must have been so captivated by this notion of an interior drive to recognize what a gift God’s commands are, because in his writings he so often highlights that love of God is shown in obedience. The interior drive of love, as opposed to mere external obligation! And when our love drives us to be obedient to the Lord, we find a rich promise. Jesus says, “I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate to be with you always, the Spirit of truth.” Note that Jesus is the first Advocate sent by the Father to be with us. Now Jesus references another Advocate. Jesus promises that his departure is important, even necessary and good, because by it he can then ask the Father to send to those who love him the Holy Spirit of truth to be an Advocate or a Paraclete, as is said in other sections of the Gospel. Whether using the Latin or Greek based words, ‘Advocate’ or ‘Paraclete,’ the meaning is the same. An advocate is one who is literally called to your side, who stands with you, to advise you, to strengthen you, to guide you, to defend you, to advocate for you. You can picture this in the legal context in that someone’s legal adviser stands at the side representing him in court. No surprise then that in some languages the word for “lawyer” shares that root of “advocate,” which you can detect in the Spanish “abogado” and still more clearly in the Italian “avvocato.” The apostles would receive this promised Holy Spirit to come be with them, at their side, some days later at Pentecost when they were given this Advocate for their mission to the world.
How do we receive the promise Jesus made? Our first gift of the Spirit of truth happens at our baptism when by rebirth into the family of God we are made temples of the Holy Spirit. From this, we are given a life that needs to be nurtured and that is intended to grow. The disciple is by no means finished upon receiving baptism only. This is clear from the Scriptures, and so following that cue our Catholic practice evidences that there is more expected after baptism. Among many other ways a disciple needs to grow after baptism, we can note the need to respond to the Lord by deeper love that motivates our obedience. For our purposes today, I want to focus some attention on a significant way we receive the promised Advocate. It is so significant that it is its own sacrament. Let’s look closely at the first reading and marvel at the origin of our Catholic practice.
In the first reading from the Acts of the Apostles (8:5-8, 14-17) we get insight into the activity of the ancient Church, how things looked, and what happened as the apostles and other disciples sought to fulfill the Lord’s command to continue his mission. In today’s selection we hear about Philip who is one of the deacons we heard about in last Sunday’s first reading. Philip is in non-Jewish territory preaching and making converts to Christianity and baptizing new disciples. But notice what happens next. Acts says, “Now when the apostles in Jerusalem heard that Samaria had accepted the word of God, they sent them Peter and John, who went down and prayed for them, that they might receive the Holy Spirit, for it had not yet fallen upon any of them; they had only been baptized in the name of the Lord Jesus. Then they laid hands on them and they received the Holy Spirit.” So, what is going on here? Philip the deacon had been preaching and baptizing with great response and joy in the city. You can see clearly that there is more to be done than only baptism. There are two distinct movements we might say. There is baptism. But then there is a distinct giving of the Holy Spirit by the laying on of hands. Why didn’t Philip just lay hands on them? Why did the Apostles Peter and John have to come all the way from Jerusalem to these new Christians to lay hands on them who had only been baptized? You see here a distinct and separate bestowal of the Holy Spirit that apparently only the Apostles could do. And they do it not according to the first way the Holy Spirit is received, that is by immersing a convert in water at baptism (as Philip had done), but by laying hands on them in prayer such that they receive the Holy Spirit. Friends, what is this? What do these acts of the apostles show us? This shows us the ancient origin of what we now call the sacrament of confirmation.
Sometimes people are confused and wonder where confirmation is in the Bible. Some go so far as to reject confirmation because they do not find that word in the Bible. Certainly, the word ‘confirmation’ is not there, but the reality of what confirmation is, is indeed in the Bible. We have it in today’s first reading. Using the same faulty logic would one deny the “Trinity” because Jesus speaks of the Father and the Holy Spirit and himself as the Son but he does not use the word “Trinity.” Well, no! The reality of the Trinity is there, even if the word is not used. Today’s first reading shows us that there is a special giving of the Holy Spirit that is different than baptism and which is done by different ministers. Philip was a deacon and could preach and baptize. But priestly and apostolic ministry was needed to lay hands on a Christian for this second giving of the Holy Spirit.
Confirmation completes the initiation that was begun in baptism. In fact, reception of confirmation is necessary to complete and to fulfill baptismal grace. In particular, its reception gives the Holy Spirit so that a Christian has strength to share in the mission of the Church to go out and to proclaim the kingdom, and to make new disciples. This connection of power for evangelizing mission is one reason why we in the Western Catholic Church (as opposed to the equally valid Eastern Catholic practice) have kept the bestowal of confirmation ordinarily by a bishop. While a priest has the sacred power to confirm by virtue of priestly ministry in apostolic succession, it is ordinarily a successor of the Apostles who comes to confirm. However, a bishop may give permission for priests to confirm on his behalf, and priests regularly do so for groups entering the Church, like for those in RCIA. Priests also confirm in cases of emergency. Confirmation can often be misunderstood and undervalued. There can be confusion about the purpose of confirmation when its reception has been moved around from younger to older, and thereby can be mistakenly viewed as some sort of teenage ‘rite of passage’ in faith. Confirmation is even sometimes skipped altogether. But let us be clear about the ancient origin and value of confirmation. It completes our full initiation into Christ and into his Church with shared responsibility for the mission to make disciples. It is the gift of the promised indwelling of God the Holy Spirit. It fulfills the promise Jesus made at the Last Supper that if we love him and obey him this promised Advocate comes to us so that we are not orphans or abandoned. Rather, with the Spirit of truth guiding us and guarding us, standing with us, and comforting us, we can be fully alive in the joy and power of God. And so, like the joy that filled Samaria at Philip’s work, we too should seek confirmation and seek to live its grace so that we become part of the great chorus we heard in the psalm: “Let all the earth cry out to God with joy.” What is this joy? What is this crying out? It is crying out in joy for the promised works of the Holy Spirit sent by the Father and the Son at Pentecost and received by the baptized faithful to give us evangelizing power as disciples of the Lord!
Jesus said to his disciples:
“If you love me, you will keep my commandments.
And I will ask the Father,
and he will give you another Advocate to be with you always,
the Spirit of truth, whom the world cannot accept,
because it neither sees nor knows him.
But you know him, because he remains with you,
and will be in you.
I will not leave you orphans; I will come to you.
In a little while the world will no longer see me,
but you will see me, because I live and you will live.
On that day you will realize that I am in my Father
and you are in me and I in you.
Whoever has my commandments and observes them
is the one who loves me.
And whoever loves me will be loved by my Father,
and I will love him and reveal myself to him.”
Reading 1 ACTS 8:5-8, 14-17
Responsorial Psalm PS 66:1-3, 4-5, 6-7, 16, 20
Reading 2 1 PT 3:15-18
Alleluia JN 14:23
Gospel JN 14:15-21
Dominica V Paschae A
10 May 2020
The Gospel passage today takes us back to Jesus’ extended remarks to his apostles at the Last Supper where he had predicted Judas’ betrayal, had informed the group that he would be with them only a little while longer (Jn. 13:33), and had predicted that Peter would deny him. The apostles are stirred up, maybe even confused and hurt. And so, we can understand why Jesus says, “Do not let your hearts be troubled.”
Jesus prepares the Apostles for his departure. He is preparing them in an immediate sense for his suffering and death, about to take place in the moments after the Last Supper. But in a larger more remote context he is preparing them for after his resurrection and ascension when he will return to his rightful place in Heaven with the promise to return again in glory. While Jesus indicates he will go away, his departure is not without a promised return. We can get this message and thus the reason why Jesus can say, don’t let your hearts be troubled, from the Greek original of this passage for the type of departure Jesus indicates. The language for Jesus’ “going away” employs the image of Jewish betrothal and wedding ceremonies. A bride and groom in ancient Jewish practice, once betrothed were legally married and already husband and wife, yet they did not immediately live together. That’s why if you think with me in a different context, when Joseph plans to leave Mary after discovering she’s pregnant, the angel can appear to him and say “Do not be afraid to take Mary, your wife, into your home.” Upon betrothal they are already legally married yet not living together. Upon betrothal the groom would “go away” to prepare a dwelling place for his wife and new family. He would often do so on familial land, “in his father’s house” in other words. And once a suitable dwelling place was prepared he would return and a joyful wedding procession would take place to the new home where the bride and groom would begin only then their common life living together.
This is the language employed by Jesus in today’s selection. Yes, he is going away. But it is a going away that implies a return, as he himself says. And his return is intended to gather his faithful to take them to the Father’s house. The Father’s house, of course, is not a literal house but is Heaven and the life of eternal blessedness.
I hope this doesn’t shock you, but heaven is not here and it will not be here. Heaven is not even in the Church. Though indefectible in her spiritual and divine nature, the Church as the visible human community of those called, chosen, and formed to live deeper salvation is not yet heaven. We in the Church are on a journey, as it were, toward that final joyful procession when Jesus returns as Judge and ushers the faithful into the wedding feast of heaven. If you need a reminder that heaven is not here and not even in the Church at least in her visible human appearance, consider the first reading where we are plainly shown there were factions and there was complaining among disciples, all vying for their own interests. [As an aside, as we prepare for limited re-opening and limited entrance to church, let’s have charity so we don’t replicate complaining and factions.] The Church recognizes that the world and God’s creation is good. Therefore, to care for it is good. Therefore, it is good to seek to organize human society in greater conformity to Christ’s command and to his kingdom, such that there is greater justice and authentic flourishing here. However, the Church’s competence and mission, is not primarily focused on the here and now. As disciples we can never lose sight of the ultimate goal of Heaven and the proper competence and authority of the Church in spiritual matters of faith and morals. While you the laity do have the call most directly to be apostles who take Gospel truths into the world, I get worried when the ordained and other leaders in the Church seem more action-driven and motivated by things outside the Church’s competence, matters of the human and political realm. When the ordained give more attention to secular pursuits or the tactics of grass roots community action I fear the focus has shifted off of heaven and becomes focused on the here and now. That may carry with it the false notion that we can build a perfect human community here. That is not the work of the ordained. Nor is it even realistic. There will also be sin and imperfection here. Heaven is our ultimate goal. It is the place to which we strive. There will be perfection and eternal blessedness.
Not only is Heaven not here. It also is not a place, in the sense of some location or geography. Look again at the Gospel. When Jesus discusses his going away and the preparation of a dwelling for his faithful it becomes clear what this dwelling is: he will come to take you to himself so that you can be with him. And where will that be or what will that be? It becomes clear when Thomas says, “we do not know where you are going; how can we know the way?” Jesus’ response is not about a physical place. Rather, it is clear he is speaking about heaven as the life of the Trinity. Sharing in the life of the Blessed Trinity, having the unveiled vision of God, is the experience of Heaven. Jesus says that our procession to the eternal dwelling is to come to the Father. He says, “I am in the Father and the Father is in me.” It is clear that his listeners get that Jesus is not speaking of heavenly buildings but of the Trinity because Philip asks boldly, “show us the Father.”
Friends, while Heaven is not this life here, the Good News is that we can begin to experience the life of the Blessed Trinity even now. When we pray and give ourselves to God in prayer, we are opening ourselves to real relationship with a real personal being who is God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. God responds and places His life and love within us. The sacramental life is still a deeper experience of Godly relationship. These are foretastes of heavenly life. We become temples of the Holy Spirit of God. We are given impulse by the very power of God and so we can understand those odd sounding words at the end of the Gospel: “whoever believes in me will do the works that I do, and will do greater ones than these.” Those greater works are the works guaranteed by the Holy Spirit that have eternal consequences, building not only a society here but most especially building and saving souls for the eternal communion with God in Heaven.
With confidence that the Lord does not abandon us but sends his Holy Spirit may you whose vocation is the lay state seek to be living stones to build a world in greater conformity to Christ, recognizing that you are “a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation.” May we each together seek to live deeper communion with God in prayer and sacramental life now so that we are prepared for the day when the Lord will come to take us to the full heavenly vision of life with the Blessed Trinity in Heaven.
Homily for the Fifth Sunday of Easter by Fr. Stephen Hamilton. Re-recorded due to conditions at the outdoor 10:30 AM Mass.
Reading 1 ACTS 6:1-7
Responsorial Psalm PS 33:1-2, 4-5, 18-19
Reading 2 1 PT 2:4-9
Alleluia JN 14:6
Gospel JN 14:1-12
Dominica IV Paschae A
3 May 2020
Good Shepherd Sunday
The Fourth Sunday of Easter is typically called “Good Shepherd Sunday.” Yesterday the Church observed the feast day of one great shepherd, the feast of the bishop St. Athanasius who lived in the 300s. St. Athanasius was one of the great bishops from the earliest centuries of faith life in the Catholic Church. At the age of only twenty-one he had already written a great work titled “On the Incarnation,” expounding on the truth that the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity, the Eternal Son of God, had condescended and lowered Himself to take on flesh in the womb of Blessed Mary and so come to us as God incarnate, God in our flesh.
I want to focus our attention on one implication of the mystery of the Incarnation that St. Athanasius explained and defended, and then apply that to our time, especially in view of a hoped-for return to some greater normalcy in our sacramental life. Listen to St. Athanasius’ words, “The Word of God, incorporeal, incorruptible and immaterial, entered our world. Yet it was not as if he had been remote from it up to that time. For there is no part of the world that was ever without his presence; together with his Father, he continually filled all things and places. Out of his loving-kindness for us he came to us, and we see this in the way he revealed himself openly to us. Taking pity on mankind’s weakness, and moved by our corruption, he could not stand aside and see death have the mastery over us; he did not want creation to perish and his Father’s work in fashioning man to be in vain” (On the Incarnation, Office of Readings, May 2). One implication of the Incarnation, the truth that the Eternal Son of God took on our flesh in the womb of Blessed Mary, is that God desired to be and came close to us. He came like one of us in all things but sin. He came within our very flesh and our frame to be near to us.
This has an application for the practice of our faith life as Catholics. You see, God is not to be viewed simply as a concept. His interaction with us is not only spiritual but direct, personal, and physical. He is incarnate. He comes near to us. And so, His grace and power and blessing are enfleshed too, here and now. We are meant to have a relationship with God that is personal and direct. I point this out because I wonder about a possible ramification of this time of quarantine. What will happen when we begin to return to normal? Will we find that some of our Catholic brothers and sisters, perhaps not well-formed, will have become too accustomed to live stream Masses? Too accustomed to the illusion of participating in Mass through a camera? Such practice for us is permitted now because there is little more we can do. And to be clear, that’s okay for now. But, when we can do more and live more normally, will we find that some have disappeared somewhere beyond the camera? It’s a different matter for a Protestant brother or sister, especially who attends a megachurch, to return to “normal” where the normal pattern may well be watching a pastor on a TV screen. But what should return to “normal” look like for a Catholic? Please God all of our brothers and sisters in the Catholic fold will return, but we need to prepare ourselves to be true Catholics and witnesses to them, to be St. Athanasius’ to them, to proclaim the truth clearly and convincingly as he did that God has come near in the Incarnation and that no artificial distance, or the illusion of digital proximity, can suffice for an authentic life with our Good Shepherd. We need to also prepare ourselves to be witnesses who bring non-Catholics nearer and into the fold.
What are the lessons of the Incarnation? Jesus, the Son of God in the flesh, is the one who comes near such that the woman with the hemorrhage can reach out and grasp his cloak. This is the God who spits on the ground, making mud with the dirt, and smears it on the blind man’s eyes to heal him. This is the God who desires proximity and direct, personal contact such that he confronts lack of belief by demanding, put your finger in the nail marks and place your hand in my side, and believe. God is not merely and cannot remain merely a concept. He is to be encountered in a direct and personal way. Through a video lens or on a screen is not the norm and will not suffice under normal conditions. People experience God in many and varied ways, to be sure. By His power He is and can be present spiritually with us and, as we say, in our hearts, especially when we foster prayer life. This is true. But what a greater treasure do we have as Catholics… by the Incarnation God comes near to us directly and personally and this is the heart of a proper sacramental life! How strange it is that we Catholics are sometimes accused of having a distant faith or a faith that is only about rules. That’s only true if you remain distant and close God off to the reality of your life in all its episodes, in all its joys and struggles, and even in the darkness of sins. How strange it would be then, again under normal conditions when we are more free to live a sacramental life, that a Catholic would keep a distance from the Lord. God’s grace in you was begun by direct gift that comes from his personal offering on the Cross and the physical, close, pouring of water for rebirth in the Spirit. That new life is strengthened by the direct and personal anointing of confirmation such that you become a temple of the Holy Spirit and decorated as a solider of Christ. The Lord gives himself most intimately in his resurrected and living flesh in Holy Communion, nourishing you to keep on the path of intimacy with him. Even in our sins, darkness, and struggles he is near to save us. How strange it is then that a Catholic would keep a distance from this merciful work of the incarnate God in confession and choose instead to live at greater distance and to wallow in indignity. God has come near, within our very flesh! He desires and makes intimacy with Him possible.
That God comes in our flesh as the fulfillment of the shepherd King in the line of David gives us an image of God’s closeness. God’s work is continued in our time by the proximity of ordained shepherds in our midst. In the Gospel Jesus proclaims himself to be the gate for the sheep. And he says that whoever enters through the gate (through him) is the shepherd of the sheep. That is an instruction especially to priests that we must have a deep interior life with Jesus. We must live in, and minister through the gate, through Jesus, if we will truly fulfill the calling to be shepherds in his name. And listen to the clear and unique Gospel imagery for how shepherds lead, which will give particular force to the Church’s ancient liturgical practice that you can see and may have noticed here at the altar: From the sheepfold, “the shepherd calls his own sheep by name and leads them out…. he walks ahead of them, and the sheep follow him.” Standing at the sacred altar, ahead of you, but on the same side of the altar with you truly signifies our journey, our procession in this life: a shepherd walks ahead of you to lead, but also on the same side of the altar with you since he is also one of the Lord’s flock. The shepherd seeks to keep his gaze and the gaze of the flock entrusted temporarily to him, not on himself, but on the signs in the cosmos that the Lord is returning to meet us in judgment. Both shepherd and flock have focus for the journey of the spiritual life by focusing on the horizon whence we await the return in glory of our Good Shepherd incarnate still in our flesh!
On this Good Shepherd Sunday I ask your prayers for me, for Fr. Bali, and for Fr. Mejia as we seek to care for and to lead the flock here at our parish. I ask for your prayers for our Archbishop, who has important decisions to announce soon about how and under what conditions we will seek to return to a more normal sacramental life. By extension I ask you to pray for our deacons. And I ask you to pray for future priests and express to God a willingness to welcome and to promote from among your own sons whatever is God’s will, should He call one or more of them to be future priests.
Surrexit Dominus vere, alleluia!
Et apparuit Simoni, alleluia!
Homily for the Fourth Sunday of Easter, commonly known as Good Shepherd Sunday by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading 1 ACTS 2:14A, 36-41
Responsorial Psalm 23: 1-3A, 3B4, 5, 6
Reading 2 1 PT 2:20B-25
Alleluia JN 10:14
Gospel JN 10:1-10
Part III of this week's homily series in which Fr. Hamilton unpacks John's Gospel, chapter 6.
Reading 1 ACTS 8:26-40
Responsorial Psalm 66:8-9, 16-17, 20
Alleluia JN 6:51
Gospel JN 6:44-51
Part II of this week's homily series in which Fr. Hamilton unpacks John's Gospel, chapter 6.
Jesus said to the crowds,
“I am the bread of life;
whoever comes to me will never hunger,
and whoever believes in me will never thirst.
But I told you that although you have seen me,
you do not believe.
Everything that the Father gives me will come to me,
and I will not reject anyone who comes to me,
because I came down from heaven not to do my own will
but the will of the one who sent me.
And this is the will of the one who sent me,
that I should not lose anything of what he gave me,
but that I should raise it on the last day.
For this is the will of my Father,
that everyone who sees the Son and believes in him
may have eternal life,
and I shall raise him on the last day.”
— John 6:35-40
As we find ourselves longing for the Eucharist in these unusual times, I invite everyone to listen to this week's homily series in which Fr. Hamilton unpacks John 6.
Reading 1 ACTS 7:51—8:1A
Responsorial Psalm 31:3CD-4, 6 AND 7B AND 8A, 17 AND 21AB
Alleluia JN 6:35AB
Gospel JN 6:30-35
Dominica II Paschae A
19 April 2020
Divine Mercy Sunday
At times in preaching some images that might communicate a point can be more evocative, if not provocative. When a preacher employs such images he might try to prepare his congregation for the unexpected so that they don’t fall out of their seats. Today I have just such an image. And so, oddly enough in this setting, I can tell you to fasten your seatbelts… and what’s more… you can literally do so!
The evocative or provocative image, however, is not mine but comes from the Scriptures. St. Peter employed the image. It is in his letter in the Bible. And it formed the entrance antiphon of this Holy Mass. The image is that of an infant nursing and longing for the mother’s milk. It’s an image that paints a vivid picture for Christian life and the nourishment we need to grow toward our mature goal: salvation in heaven!
Interactions with parishioners at times provide very powerful things for my meditation. Maybe it is good for you to hear and to know that… that your lives bear the marks of God and the touch of the divine and things spiritual. Normally we need someone else to point that out to us, no? You have been in large, multi-generational family gatherings and you know how you enter and exit various conversations all going on at once around a table or in the living room. So it was at one such gathering of parishioners that I turned from my spot at the table because a mother with a young infant said something behind me. We began speaking and I noticed that her infant son was… well, there is no other way to say this… he was grabbing quite aggressively and intently at her blouse and even down it! He wanted to nurse and he knew how to communicate the desire.
That image came to my mind in my reflections for today’s Mass as I read the entrance antiphon, a verse from the First Letter of St. Peter: “Like newborn infants, you must long for the pure, spiritual milk, that in him you may grow to salvation.” God’s Word makes use of the image of an infant longing to nurse to tell us something about what we need in order to be transformed from infant Christians to fully mature saints in heaven.
The infant who longs to nurse is hungry and wants food. He knows where the source of that food is. Though an infant can’t explain it, he needs that food in order to grow and to mature and to become what he is supposed to become… a fully mature adult. There is a longing within the child and it is placed there for an important purpose. When that longing for the nourishment of milk is fulfilled, it helps him arrive by the process of growth to where he should be. Upon our birth into the family of Christ and his Church we begin as infants. But we are not supposed to remain there. We are supposed to grow and to mature. The goal of our growth, unlike natural life, is not simply the number or the maturity of years, but rather that of full Christian maturity and the life of heaven. Thus, the entrance antiphon could say that we must long for spiritual milk so that we may grow to salvation. It is a good and a holy desire to long for our souls to be fed. The spiritual milk we need comes to us in various ways by God’s grace. Do we bother to notice the longing of our souls? Do we know the source of our nourishment? Do we seek it, quite intently and vigorously, like that infant I saw at the family gathering? Will we go after the saving teachings of our faith and seek the practices that give life to our soul? While we are more separated from one another than normal perhaps we can ask the Lord to use this time frame to teach us to long for our spiritual nourishment and to not take it for granted when our distancing ends, even as we know that his grace still comes to us now.
But there is something still more in the lesson to be like newborn infants longing for pure, spiritual milk. The point of the image, brothers and sisters, is not merely that we seek to fulfill our soul’s longing by aggressively grabbing at the things of God. There is something more that tempers that image for us. Any mother could tell you that nursing is not only a function of the transfer of food, or only a physical act by which a baby gets nourishment. There is an intimacy and a deep union – a communion we could say – between a nursing mother and her child. Nursing is also about bonding the mother and child, not just about feeding. And there is something of God and of the spiritual life there too. I think that’s why a preacher like St. Peter would use the image.
As you and I continue to celebrate the joy of Easter and as we hear that antiphon telling us to be like newborn infants longing for pure, spiritual milk, we should note that we best not be grabbing at the things of God. Rather, we should note that our soul is called to an intimacy, to a communion with God. Our distancing, by the time it ends, would be wasted if we return to more normal practice of the faith in an entitled way, grabbing at God’s gifts. No, let’s nurture a longing within ourselves such that our return to normalcy is marked by the peaceful, contented, relaxed assurance of an infant, knowing that God feeds us. If we struggle or doubt in this odd time frame, let Jesus’ action in the Gospel we heard today assure you. What can we make of his twice appearing within that locked room where his apostles were? I suggest the lesson that we want to take away is that there are no obstacles that can prevent the Risen Lord from feeding us with his presence and his grace and his gift of peace. Just as locked doors and walls were no obstacle to him doing whatever he wanted, so our distancing, our suspension of the normal sacramental life does not create an obstacle for God who can impart the spiritual milk of his grace however and wherever. Even now in these days, long for the Lord and expect him to appear in your midst. Expect him to show the wounds that are the mark of his credibility as the one who suffers with you. Expect him to speak to you: Peace be with you!
Like newborn infants, you must long for the pure, spiritual milk, that in him you may grow to salvation, alleluia.
—Entrance antiphon for Divine Mercy Sunday
Homily from the outdoor drive-up Mass for Divine Mercy Sunday by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading 1 ACTS 2:42-47
Responsorial Psalm PS 118:2-4, 13-15, 22-24
Reading 2 1 PT 1:3-9
Alleluia JN 20:29
Gospel JN 20:19-31
Good Friday
10 April 2020
In my homily yesterday at the Mass of the Lord’s Supper for Holy Thursday, my focus was on Jesus’ sacramental offering of himself even before he died physically. And my hope for us is that we understand that Jesus truly and really offered himself in that First Holy Communion at the Last Supper. There was nothing lacking in that offering of himself on Holy Thursday, even as he awaited the completion of that offering in the flesh on the Cross on that first Good Friday. Yesterday’s focus was on offering. Today’s focus is on consummation.
At the point of his death our Blessed Lord spoke these words that we have translated into English: “It is finished.” That is a translation of the Latin Vulgate biblical text. In Latin the Lord’s phrase is: “Consummatum est.” That phrase does indeed carry with it the notion that something is brought to completion. And so our English text can rightly say, “It is finished.” But I want to highlight something in the Latin as a point of attention for us today. Looking at the root of the Latin there is not only a sense of completion but also a sense that something is being “brought all together.” Still more, there is a root sense that something is “being perfected” or “being brought to its highest form.” And this gathering together, this being brought to perfection, is not happening in isolation but together with something else, or with others.
With that in mind I offer this simple and brief thought for today. We recall the enduring love of God for us and the depth to which He goes to save us. Veiled in our flesh such that His glory as God is hidden, He goes still further and is veiled under brutal torture and disfigurement. His glory and love is not recognizable and it is not recognizable because of our sin, our pride, and our rejection of him. Do not hear in English “It is finished” to mean that a book or a story is closed, done, nothing more to happen. Rather, consider the root meanings from the Latin. The Lord completes his self-offering on the Cross. In that sense, in the flesh, his offering is consummated. But remember his act on the Cross, was to bring all together, to bring to perfection, and to do so not in isolation, but to bring others along with his offering.
Perhaps that can be a focal point for our experience this Holy Week. Perhaps that can help us understand the ache and the longing in our hearts. Our longing is about more than just desiring a return to normal. Rather, it is a recognition that the Divine Heart of Jesus beats for us and pours out His love. Our hearts receive that love if we will lift the veil of our sin, our pride, and our rejection of him. Our hearts are brought together into his offering. And that is why we long to receive him in Holy Communion. Jesus’ self-offering is complete, it is finished. But it is not the end of story… may we be determined to freely cooperate with him and to be brought together, to be brought into his perfect offering. Receiving his grace and his love, may we go forth as disciples who seek to be co-workers with the Lord in bringing others souls all together into his self-offering for salvation.
Holy Thursday
9 April 2020
On this holy night that begins the Sacred Triduum, the sacred three days that celebrate how Christ accomplished our salvation, the Church reflects on three principal mysteries from the Last Supper. Our attention is drawn to our Blessed Lord’s example of humble charity. Charity is love, and it is modeled for us in the washing of the apostles’ feet together with the Lord’s explicit command that our lives too must be marked by humble charity and service of others. Our attention is drawn to the institution of the Sacrament of the Holy Eucharist, that greatest, most august sacrament that makes present truly and really the Lord’s sacrifice for our salvation, the offering of the gift of his whole self. Our attention is also drawn to the institution of the Sacrament of the Priestly Order. We believe that our Lord’s command to the apostles, “Do this in memory of me,” conferred upon them a real authority from the Lord to continue his mission in this world through his Church. If that command did not confer upon them the priestly office and authority then his words would be meaningless, rendering what the apostles would go on to do in his name little more than re-enactment or religious theatre. But no, our faith tells us that the Lord in his divine love and mercy for us made his offering of self on this night at the Last Supper. Having a love that knows no bounds, our Lord also established the way that his offering could be and would be made present in every time and place in this world. With such a focus on the priesthood I am delighted to acknowledge here with us a few priests. Of course, my assistant, Fr. Bali whose presence is a source of great blessing and comfort to our parish. We welcome back Fr. Stanley who, together with seminarian Martin Parizek, is here to form a small choir to add beauty to this Mass. A happy day of the priesthood to you, my brothers! I am grateful to you Fr. Stanley and Martin for your initiative in providing chant at this Mass.
In the course of the Last Supper, gathered for the expected Passover meal, Jesus did something new in the presence of his apostles. He fulfilled the Passover and transformed it to refer to himself. At the Last Supper the Lord truly and really offered himself under the appearance of unleavened bread and wine. And he did that in view of what he would accomplish the next day on the Cross. Before he even died on the Cross Jesus offered himself at the Last Supper. That can perhaps seem a bit mysterious to us, right? What does it mean and how do we understand the Lord offering himself in Holy Communion at the Last Supper when in fact he had not yet died on the Cross? Is there something inauthentic or, at worst, fraudulent and empty in that first Holy Communion at the Last Supper? How can we understand what took place this evening so long ago?
I suggest to you there is nothing at all in conflict, or inauthentic, or hollow in the sacramental offering the Lord made of himself at the Last Supper. And I think you know this already and you understand it in a different context. So, let’s switch to that other context.
We have all been to weddings. A couple who has grown in relationship, in trust, and in love for one another determines they desire to commit to one another permanently. They desire to publicly express their love and to embark on a new mission as spouses who are called to make their love enfleshed and complete in sacrificial self-giving and in openness to the gift of children. When you attend such a wedding and witness such a couple’s offering of their love to one another, is there anything unusual, inauthentic, or hollow in their offering in that moment at the wedding? I bet you would say, “No, there isn’t.” That newly married couple must still enflesh and consummate their vowed love later after forming their spousal relationship at the wedding. But you easily recognize that simply because they have not yet consummated their vowed love there is nothing inauthentic or out of place or somehow less than true about their love when a couple exchanges their vows on their wedding day. It is true and real and meaningful on that very day and in that very moment of the wedding when they profess: “I promise to be faithful to you, in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love you and to honor you all the days of my life.” The same can easily be understood then of the self-offering Jesus makes in his divine love at the Last Supper. In the course of that meal, taking bread and wine, Jesus offered himself sacramentally, Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity. He did so in view of what he would accomplish the following day on the Cross. Yet by virtue of still awaiting the Cross, there was nothing inauthentic or hollow in that first Holy Communion received by the Apostles. This is how we understand what the Lord did on this evening.
This evening is about the Lord’s offering of himself in sacramental form, a form that is so familiar to us as Catholics. It would be easy for us to focus this year on what we are not “getting” or not “receiving” this evening, namely distribution of Holy Communion. But I want to encourage you to not miss the opportunity that history and pandemic affords this Holy Thursday, an opportunity to re-orient our thoughts so that when we arrive at our longed-for return to normal, we will arrive changed and strengthened in faith. St. Augustine, the son of our parish patroness, in a homily on St. John’s Gospel remarked on the type of expected return of favor when you are invited by someone to a dinner. Reflecting upon St. John’s account of the Last Supper, St. Augustine remarked that at the Last Supper there follows a consequence for those who ate (cf. Tractate 84). What Jesus was serving was not merely the type of fare you would find on an ordinary menu and certainly not at an ordinary Passover. Rather, our Lord was serving divine love, a love that has nothing greater, because he was laying down his life. Like the Apostles, if we receive and eat the offering of that love then the consequence is that we likewise must return the favor, so to speak. In other words, as St. John writes elsewhere, “By this we know love, that he laid down his life for us; and we ought to lay down our lives for the brethren” (1 Jn. 3:16). St. Augustine connects this consequence to what is found in the Book of Proverbs, “When you sit down to eat with a ruler, observe carefully what is before you;” knowing that you are bound to make similar preparations (cf. Proverbs 23:1, the text has difficulties and interpretations beyond the words often published in bibles). Rather than focusing on what we are not receiving this year, and making Holy Thursday 2020 wasted on lament, might we focus on what we have received so very often before pandemic upended everything? Might we focus that we have come to the sacred table of our great King – the altar – so many times to receive what is set before us and that the consequence for us is that we likewise are supposed to offer ourselves in imitation of the Lord? St. Augustine refers to the words of St. Peter who highlights the same consequence: “Christ … suffered for you, leaving you an example, that you should follow in his steps” (1 Pt. 2:21). If Jesus makes an offering that is the sacrifice of his life for us, and if we have received that offering in Holy Communion so many times, have we returned the favor? Have we made similar preparations by offering ourselves for him? Have we laid down our lives to be his disciples? Have we laid down our tendency to sin and to choose our own plans? Have we laid down our selfish focus on my time and my wants in order to hear and respond to the vocation God gives us? Have we laid down our egos and pride in order to fufill the mission we have to be public witnesses to the Lord in this world? Or do we hide our faith? Do we take up our own pursuits? Do we refuse to seriously address and change our sins? In other words, have we eaten of this offering before // but not yet returned the favor?
As you are encouraged to accept the grace of a spiritual communion this Holy Thursday, perhaps the call to lay down our selfish pursuits and follow the example of the Lord can be our focus. In other words, perhaps our focus this year can be more on what we ourselves are supposed to give and what we ourselves are supposed to offer, rather than on what we are not receiving this year. In this way, like the Lord, may we embrace our crosses and be prepared to accomplish in our flesh the offering we speak and we desire by our presence at the sacrificial banquet of our great King and Eternal High Priest!
Homily for the Easter Vigil Mass by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Live stream replay available at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rHsPRudZogM
Readings available at: http://usccb.org/bible/readings/041120.cfm
Homily for Holy Thursday, special outdoor drive-up mass, by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading 1 EX 12:1-8, 11-14
Responsorial Psalm PS 116:12-13, 15-16BC, 17-18.
Reading 2 1 COR 11:23-26
Verse Before The Gospel JN 13:34
Gospel JN 13:1-15
Homily by Archbishop of the Archdiocese of Oklahoma City, Most Reverend Paul S. Coakley, who joined us for this special outdoor, drive-up celebration of the procession and mass of Palm Sunday.
Reading 1
- At the procession with palms MT 21:1-11
- At The Mass IS 50:4-7
Responsorial Psalm PS 22:8-9, 17-18, 19-20, 23-24.
Reading 2 PHIL 2:6-11
Verse Before The Gospel PHIL 2:8-9
Gospel MT 26:14—27:66 OR 27:11-54
Homily recorded during a live streamed mass from the St. Augustine Chapel for the Solemnity of the Annunciation of the Lord.
Reading 1 IS 7:10-14; 8:10
Responsorial Psalm 40:7-8A, 8B-9, 10, 11
Reading 2 HEB 10:4-10
Verse Before The Gospel JN 1:14AB
Gospel LK 1:26-38
Full video of this mass available here.
Dominica IV in Quadragesima A
22 March 2020
There is something going around the world today. It can’t be seen with the naked eye. I’ve never seen it as an object in and of itself. But you can see its effects in people, in how it impacts them, sickens them, and deforms their life. Reports around the globe tell us it is everywhere. It damages life and separates families. Nothing seems to stop it. You know I had to mention it this weekend! I’m speaking, of course, of sin!
In the midst of the moral threat of sin, the Good News is clear. There is a remedy to sin and our separated life from God. The Good News is Jesus Christ! Maybe we need a moment like now to realize what is truly important and what lasts. Maybe we need a moment like now to admit what we give so much time to that ultimately passes and falls through our fingers. The Lord came as God the Father’s remedy. He came to place godliness within our very flesh. To place the salutary vaccine of grace directly into our bodies and souls. And the Lord released the power of that remedy by willingly laying down his life to save us. The remedy has been given on the Cross. That same remedy is made present again on the sacred altar at the Holy Mass. The sacrifice of the Mass is not a new remedy or a re-sacrifice of the Lord. Rather, the power and reality of the one and same gift of the Lord is made present here.
Since the remedy has been given, our task is to live in such a way that the remedy can actually work in us. The remedy of Jesus and his saving grace lacks nothing, but it does require our cooperation if it is to be effective for us in the face of the disease of sin and its threat to our eternal life. This isn’t difficult to understand. We understand it in a physical health way quite readily. Imagine if I need medicine for a physical illness. The medicine is one important piece, even an essential piece. But if I don’t keep myself hydrated, if I don’t allow myself to rest, if I eat poorly, if I keep exposing myself to the same source of disease then I shouldn’t expect a good outcome from the remedy. It’s the same with sin. The remedy of Jesus’ sacrifice and his ongoing grace to us is not a static gift. He gives it constantly and it needs our constant cooperation. We are saved by Jesus and by him alone. But our ongoing work to cooperate with that gift, to turn from sin, and to break patterns where we squander the remedy is the daily work of each disciple.
And thus, we come here to the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass. We are renewed in the saving remedy of the Good News by the two-edged sword of God’s Word in the Scripture readings. We are encouraged by the faith of a community that pushes us to strive toward Heaven and holds us accountable. We come face-to-face with the very Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity of the Lord in the Blessed Sacrament of the Altar. If we are in the state of grace and worthily prepared, we receive the Lord’s gift of himself, his remedy, under sacramental form in Holy Communion. But today gives us an opportunity, as unique and unwanted as it may be, to call to mind the truth and the value in our Catholic tradition of the Spiritual Communion, something which saints described and practiced throughout Christian history. When we receive Holy Communion under more normal circumstances we might refer to that as physically receiving Holy Communion. Christ’s faithful have long recognized that physically receiving Communion is not always possible. What might be some limitations? Perhaps a person is disabled, sick, or imprisoned and cannot make it to Mass. Perhaps you plan to go to Mass but a broken-down vehicle prevents that from happening. Maybe you are in a place where there is no priest, on a military post, or traveling in some remote location. All of these and more are physical barriers to receiving Holy Communion. But the faithful have also long recognized moral barriers to receiving Holy Communion. When I examine the state of my soul, perhaps I notice there some grave sin that needs to be confessed first and thus I need to refrain from physically receiving Holy Communion until I first go to confession. Maybe a person has not committed some objective sin but notices some part of Catholic doctrine that needs to be accepted and received more fully to be living a deeper life as a Catholic. Maybe a Catholic has not married in the Church and needs to have that addressed first before approaching for Holy Communion. We might even say that very small children who have not yet reached the age of reason, by which they become morally responsible, are in a type of barrier that normally does not permit them to receive Holy Communion until around the age of eight.
Given the possible reasons why physical reception of Holy Communion may not be possible, the question should be asked: is there no benefit of grace for such persons? Does that mean there is no communion at all? The Church’s spiritual writers and saints have long encouraged the value of a spiritual communion. When we are not able to make a physical communion, we recognize that by his power as God, the Lord is not limited in his ability to give us his grace. In a spiritual communion we identify what, if anything, we are responsible for that prevents our physical communion. We express to the Lord the desire to confess any sin as soon as possible in order to be more deeply united to him and, with obstacles removed, to be able to make a good Holy Communion as soon as possible. In a spiritual communion we prayerfully express our desire to receive the Lord and to embrace him spiritually. We do this confident that he blesses such self-examination and desire. We do this such that the grace the Lord gives in a spiritual communion may strengthens us to see our resolve to its conclusion, to remove all barriers to Holy Communion and to make a physical communion as soon as possible. My brothers and sisters, this grace is yours today and I encourage you to adopt this worthy practice in these difficult days. Wherever you are, as frequently as you want, you can turn your mind and heart to the Lord to make a spiritual communion. By this you will continue to be strong as members of Christ’s Body the Church, as we pray for a speedy end to what prevents the normal course of our life in this moment. As this Mass continues lift your hearts, your minds, and your lives to the Lord in sacrifice. Know that this is pleasing to God. And be confident that God, who is generosity beyond measure, will give you a rich store of the grace needed to remain near to Him today and every day.
Fr. Hamilton preaches outside.
On a rainy Sunday in on the the first weekend since the archdiocese cancelled all public masses, St. Monica Catholic Church hosted an outdoor, drive-up Mass for the faithful. A temporary altar was erected in the plaza outside the sanctuary and the assembly arrived, staying in their vehicles, watching and hearing the Mass through a short range FM radio channel. This is Fr. Hamilton’s homily with additional words for those watching in their cars and those who were streaming live from YouTube in their homes.
Reading 1 1 SM 16:1B, 6-7, 10-13A
Responsorial Psalm PS 23: 1-3A, 3B-4, 5, 6.
Reading 2 EPH 5:8-14
Verse Before The Gospel JN 8:12
Gospel JN 9:1-41
Dominica II in Quadragesima A
Safe Haven Sunday
8 March 2020
We are all aware of the large-scale response to the flu and in particular to the coronavirus this year. To limit spread of disease by human contact we are seeing responses around the world and changes to church practices too. Many bishops, including our own, have announced changes to liturgical practices. First, I think it is reasonable to emphasize that we should all remain calm and avoid hysteria. Secondly, we should observe good hygiene and vigilance at all times. This moment is an opportunity to give some instruction for some adjustments at Masses and to communicate some suggestions from the Archbishop.
- The obligation to attend all Sunday and holy day Masses is most serious. However, the Church always recognizes that certain events, however rare, may remove that obligation. A serious, infectious illness is one such example where such an ill person is not bound to the obligation. This recognizes both the sick person’s need to rest and get healthy, and it recognizes a certain charity to not expose others in the community to serious health risk. Please be self-aware when you are sick.
- Good and regular handwashing is advised, as is the use of alcohol-based hand sanitizers. I’m asking all extraordinary ministers of Holy Communion to have their own private bottle of sanitizer to use before distribution of Holy Communion. Regarding our use of hands at Holy Mass: The Church’s directions for Mass do not instruct us to hold hands at the Our Father. That is a popular practice in some locations but a posture the Church does not envision for that prayer. You might have noticed that our altar boys always keep their hands folded during the prayer. That is because I have trained them not to hold hands since it is not asked for in Mass instructions. At the suggestion of the Archbishop, beginning today we are not encouraging hand holding during the Our Father. I ask you not to make anyone feel forced into holding hands. Use of hands also impacts something that is actually optional at Mass, the shaking of hands at the sign of peace. Again, following the Archbishop’s suggestion, beginning today we are discontinuing the shaking of hands. The priest will give the ritual sign of peace and your response, as normal, is “And with your spirit.” But after that we will omit the shaking of hands and immediately begin chanting the “Lamb of God.”
- It is already our regular practice here that we do not distribute from chalices. We have one chalice that we reserve in the sanctuary for parishioners who cannot receive the Sacred Host due to serious gluten allergy. That chalice will remain available to them. Today gives an opportunity to remind us all that the chalice that remains here in the sanctuary is only for those who do not and cannot receive the Host. Some parishioners report such a high level of allergy to wheat gluten that they cannot receive the Host and they also cannot drink from a chalice if someone consuming the Host drinks from it. So, today I want to remind us all that if you are able to receive the Host then you should do so and then return to your pew. Those who cannot receive the Host will find their way up to the chalice we keep here. Under no circumstance should someone consuming the Host also come up to this reserved chalice. Be assured, nothing of the grace and fullness of Christ is lacking by receiving under the form of the Host alone or the Precious Blood alone.
- Since receiving Holy Communion on the tongue is the far more traditional practice, and since it contains its own built-in reverence by receiving, but not touching the Host, I am NOT going to instruct anyone to receive only on the hand. However, take note of some tips for receiving on the tongue. Our altar boys try to place the communion paten under your chin when you receive on the tongue. It would help if you keep your folded hands lower and not up high near your chin. When you arrive for Holy Communion, whether standing or kneeling, respond “Amen,” try to keep your head still, and then open your mouth sufficiently wide and also extend the tongue so the Sacred Host may be placed on it. Let the minister draw back the hand before closing your mouth and then return to your pew. Hand-to-hand contact is also a concern for those who opt to receive Holy Communion in the hand. If you do so it is necessary to have clean hands, to present your hands completely open and flat, with palms up, and one hand on top of the other. Please do not begin to close your hand on the minster’s fingers until the minister withdraws the hand. Finally, I know many of you like to kneel to receive Holy Communion and so we have kneelers in place at the main aisle Communion stations. That might help remove the amount of stretching of the arm and movement involved in putting the Host on the tongue.
Okay, we got through all of that! So, we do all that to give reasonable attention to our bodily health and to avoid illness and threats to our bodily life. Would you agree with me that giving attention to our spiritual health, avoiding spiritual illness and even eternal death needs attention? Would you agree with me that if we have a proper hierarchy of values, a moral pandemic impacting our life as God’s children and risking spiritual death and Hell needs even more careful attention? That is what I really want to address today. Together with Archbishop Coakley we are observing a coordinated effort across the archdiocese this weekend for our second annual Safe Haven Sunday to address the sensitive but necessary topic of the moral pandemic of pornography. Because of the prevalence of the Internet and smartphones this issue impacts adults and teens, men and women, boys and girls, and even impacts our children at increasingly younger ages. First, our focus is to name and face this issue that negatively impacts so many of us and to call to conversion so that we may live more fully as God’s children. And, secondly, this effort is to equip parents to protect and confidently parent your children in a hyper-sexualized culture. As you leave Mass today we have a booklet resource for you. This resource is specific to treating this topic for parents of children, especially when you have discovered a child has been exposed or has a habit of use. If you have children and teens in the home I want you to make sure to pick up a booklet. There is no shame in taking that resource as an aid to your parenting. You will note on the booklet’s front cover and in its first pages an invitation for parents to sign up for a 7-day challenge that will provide a crash course via email of lessons and practices parents should observe to address this topic in the home. Given the statistics on this topic, parents, you should likely just assume your child has been exposed and that your middle school and high school child may already have a habit of use. We want to discourage passive parenting. I know these conversations are awkward and we’d just like to assume our children are immune. But by our silence do we really want to communicate to our kids that guarding their souls from sin is somehow less important than the instructions we readily give them about safe driving and getting good grades? Ironically, many would suggest they give their child a smartphone for a sense of security, for ease of contact, and to track or locate a child. But if parenting is passive, that very device becomes the pitfall. It can form habits whereby we engage in less real contact, preferring the screen to real human interaction, and it can become the portal for serious poison to come directly to your child. One of the simplest and smartest things I have heard a parent do is to have a house rule where at bedtime, or a certain time of evening, all smartphones have to be placed in a basket that is kept overnight in the parents’ bedroom. Since the majority of exposure and use happens while kids are bored and in their bedroom, this practice can greatly reduce access to this material. In addition, parental controls and filtering/blocking software should be placed on devices so that the very thing you give your child for a sense of security does not become the device that leads them astray.
With reference to the Scriptures I want to draw upon the idea of our vision and how it needs to be transformed. Last weekend in the first reading from Genesis we heard of the Fall, of Original Sin, and how the eyes of Adam and Eve were opened to what the serpent, the Evil One, wanted them to see. This week in the Collect we prayed that we may have “spiritual sight made pure” so that, as the Lord promised to Abram in today’s first reading, we may see the land that He will show us and thus know our destination and our inheritance. The Transfiguration of Jesus is the sneak peek of his future and ours, the sneak peek of our inheritance – the glorification of our bodies in Heaven forever! We need to be transformed by the Lord’s grace so that we grow in purity and strength against the serpent’s poison in our time, which is a stumbling block to our heavenly goal. Like the disciples in the Gospel may we train ourselves and purify our vision so that we too see “no one else but Jesus alone.” The truth is our vision is obscured by our fallen nature and our tendency toward sin; even more, our vision is blinded by serious sin. Use of explicit material makes us unable to see and accept the good of human sexuality and its nature and essence designed by God. We each need to strive to use the spiritual weapons available to us to root out sin and to grow in conformity to Christ. Part of this work is also attending to our children and young people so that they are not abandoned and without guidance in the face of lethal threats to their purity. Explicit material is not the only threat on our way to Heaven, but it has become a most serious and widespread threat. This threat, and others, needs even more attention than our efforts to avoid the flu or the coronavirus.
Thus, in addition to the booklet you should take as you leave Mass, I want to suggest some important practices.
- Pray and beg the Lord to deliver you and your family from this sin. Ask him to strengthen your serious resolve to act against this sin. Pray the Rosary and the St. Michael Prayer.
- Make use of regular and honest confession, especially to be able to receive Holy Communion worthily. See that your children regularly confess. Go as a family.
- Willingly take on penances to atone for your own sins and those of your loved ones.
- Have frank conversations with your spouse and age-appropriate conversations with your children. Speak not only about the sin of explicit material but talk about fostering real relationships, holiness, the goodness of the human person, the goodness of human sexuality and its proper place within marriage alone.
- Consider how an accountability partner and filtering/blocking software like Covenant Eyes can help you have a source of strength in the battle.
- Finally, we would be remiss here to avoid the blessing of Eucharistic Adoration and committing to a regular weekly time to make a Holy Hour in our chapel. There is no reason why any parishioner, men and women, whole families together, even our youth cannot take on this practice to grow in relationship with Jesus who is truly present among us. In particular, I want to appeal to our men: If you are not yet committed to a regular time of adoration, get involved by calling the Parish Office soon. We have some late night and early morning hours that can use a second person for adoration. That can be a way that you men can serve the role of guardians and protectors. You might also consider taking an hour at those times when one of our female parishioners is alone. We need you to step up. You won’t regret the blessings.
On this Safe Haven Sunday we want to promote conversion and purity of life. And we pray that parents be confident that your words and your example as a parent/guardian can inspire your child to appreciate, choose, and grow in chastity in order to live the beauty and truth of sexuality according to the liberating Good News of Jesus.
Homily for the Second Sunday of Lent by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Reading 1 GN 12:1-4A
Responsorial Psalm PS 33:4-5, 18-19, 20, 22.
Reading 2 2 TM 1:8B-10
Verse Before The Gospel MT 17:5
Gospel MT 17:1-9
Ash Wednesday
26 February 2020
Today we have begun the holy season of renewal known as Lent. This season is a time of spiritual exercises, engagement in serious spiritual battle, by repentance, acts of penance, and the mercy of confession to be restored in the dignity begun in us at baptism. Several of the references in the scriptural texts of this [service] Mass, the scripture readings and antiphons, point out the particular focus of this season: namely, the heart. We are called to look and to search deeply, to scrutinize, our heart so that we remember our dignity as God’s children and notice where we are weak and have strayed from the path of life with God. We do this so that we may repent and turn from our sin and make a return to our Heavenly Father. The first reading said it this way: “Even now, says the Lord, return to me with your whole heart, with fasting, and weeping, and mourning.”
As we undertake this deep work of the heart, we observe penances that we do together as the whole Church and, at the same time, we should also take on our own personal penitential practices. Don’t be confused by the Gospel for this day when it says, “Take care not to perform righteous deeds in order that people may see them.” This does not mean that our religious practices cannot or should not be seen. Rather, it tells us of the importance of our intentions: We should not do these good works in order to be seen. No doubt, some of our practices (like ashes) can be seen, but we should each also take on personal practices that only we know and that only our Heavenly Father sees. In other words, we do not undertake the battle of lent “to win the praise of others.” Our Heavenly Father already and always loves us, and we do not win His praise; however, in a certain nuanced sense our penances and practices should be motivated by the desire that only the Heavenly Father takes notice.
This holy season is a good time to recall that we should always be aware that we are in a spiritual battle. Listen again to the Collect of this [service] Holy Mass: “Grant, O Lord, that we may begin with holy fasting this campaign of Christian service, so that, as we take up battle against spiritual evils, we may be armed with weapons of self-restraint.” Notice the military language. In Lent we engage in a campaign, not a competition to win votes, but a military-like operation for a specific objective: to be renewed again in the life we began in baptism, to be restored to baptismal dignity that has been harmed by our sins. We take up a battle in the spiritual realm. We do not literally put on body armor or pick up guns, but we must struggle with our fallen nature and our attraction to sin so that we train ourselves to keep our eyes fixed on the things above and so that we attain the specific objective of Heaven. Our weapons are the spiritual practices of prayer, almsgiving, fasting, penances, and confession so that we form our bodily nature and its desires to obey and cooperate with our spiritual nature and the call to holiness of life in Christ. Listen again to that same prayer but an older translation: “Grant us, Lord, the grace to begin the Christian’s war of defense with holy fasts: that, as we do battle with the spirits of evil, we may be protected by the help of self-denial.”
Today we begin this holy season. Take seriously your battle. Make sure your weapons are not weak or trivial. Recognize that you have been claimed for Christ. Live more greatly for him now so that you may live eternally in Heaven!
Grant, O Lord, that we may begin with holy fasting this campaign of Christian service, so that, as we take up battle against spiritual evils, we may be armed with weapons of self-restraint. Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son, who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever.
— Collect for the Mass on Ash Wednesday
In his Homily for Ash Wednesday, Fr. Stephen Hamilton, urges to take up arms in battle against spiritual evil during Lent.
Reading 1 JL 2:12-18
Responsorial Psalm 51:3-4, 5-6AB, 12-13, 14 AND 17
Reading 2 2 COR 5:20—6:2
Verse Before The Gospel PS 95:8
Gospel MT 6:1-6, 16-18
Dominica VI per Annum A
Homily & ACA Commitment Weekend
16 February 2020
We are well aware, or at least we should be, that being a disciple of Jesus involves some fundamental requirements. It involves obedience to God and worship of Him alone. It involves holding and submitting to specific teachings revealed by God in the Old Covenant and maintained and deepened in the New Covenant of Christ. It involves acceptance of, and active membership in, the one Church that Jesus established as our Mother and our guide, believing that the Church, in her official teaching capacity, speaks to us with the very voice of the Good Shepherd. And at its very core, being a disciple of Jesus involves our response to the call to be holy, it involves our moral life. The moral life cannot be excluded from our belonging to Jesus. I think the Gospel passage today demonstrates this clearly.
Jesus teaches us this in his words: “I tell you, unless your righteousness surpasses that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven.” ‘Righteousness’ refers to being morally upright, virtuous, or, we might say, holy. It is what makes us like unto God the all-holy One and it is what makes it possible for us to be in His presence. Righteousness or holiness comes through faith in Christ as noted in the Letter to the Romans (1:17; 9:30-32) and not through works of the law (Rom. 3:28; Gal. 2:16). Our holiness is not purely our own work, since we do not and cannot save ourselves; however, if we have been justified as righteous and made holy through faith in Christ, then that reality ought to be seen and visible in the good works we do (cf. Mt. 5:16). Catholic teaching makes clear that faith and works go together (cf. James 2:14-26).
Since the scribes and Pharisees were often in conflict with Jesus they tend to get a bad wrap and we might make the mistake of dismissing them. But they were serious followers of God and their desire and religious dedication would frankly put us to shame. That we might not be shocked to hear “unless your righteousness surpasses that of the scribes and Pharisees” tells us how mistaken we are. That’s a tall and shocking order.
The moral life in Christ means that we each must strive for more than external fulfillment of the moral law. While choosing what is good and rejecting what is evil we must still go deeper, into the core of our life with God – to the heart! You see, even to desire sin is already to have formed the intention to live at a distance from God. It is tantamount to already committing sin in the heart. Thus, when examining your own sinfulness before regular confession stop saying, “Well, I haven’t killed anybody.” That is merely justifying yourself. And you and I can’t justify ourselves. Jesus says, have you been angry with someone? You are already liable to judgment. Stop excusing yourself with, “I would never actually cheat on my spouse.” Jesus says, have you looked at another with lust, objectifying the person for your imaginary pleasure? You have already committed adultery in the heart.
Following the words of Jesus on the moral life, the Church has a developed appreciation of Christian anthropology, that is understanding of human existence. We don’t merely look to the external but we know that deep within us is the source of our motivations and desires. Those things exit, they go out of us from within, and are visible in our choices. Our external and observable choices need to be morally right. When they are not, they need to be confessed to be healed by God’s abundant love for us. But the seat of our righteousness, our holiness, is deeper and we need to foster moral uprightness there too. Jesus commands us to go to the heart. Entrance into the kingdom of heaven is at stake. We are called to holiness. By God’s justification of us through faith, by His ongoing justification of us through the sacramental life, and together with our efforts – this is the recipe to surpass the righteousness of old and to enter the fullness of the New Covenant Kingdom in heaven.
This weekend across the parishes of the Archdiocese is the commitment weekend for the Annual Catholic Appeal. We will now turn our attention to that Appeal by first hearing words from Archbishop Coakley, followed by the pledge process in the pews.
Jesus said to his disciples:
“I tell you, unless your righteousness surpasses
that of the scribes and Pharisees,
you will not enter the kingdom of heaven.
Homily for the Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time by Fr. Stephen Hamilton.
Feast of the Presentation of the Lord
2 February 2020
The Feast of the Presentation of the Lord is an ancient feast, formerly called the Feast of the Purification of Mary, and commonly called “Candlemas” because of the custom of blessing and carrying candles in the entrance procession. This feast marks the event, recounted in the Scriptures, when forty days after Jesus’ birth he was presented in the Temple in Jerusalem and when Mary underwent ritual purification after childbirth. One of our beautiful Austrian stained-glass windows depicts this event. Those of you sitting in the south transept won’t be able to see it now, but make sure to check it out after Mass. Along the south wall of the main nave is that window. At the top of the window you see the Ark of the Covenant, which is God’s very presence, housed in the Jerusalem Temple. You see Simeon holding Jesus while proclaiming God’s blessings. You see the prophetess Anna nearby. You see Joseph and Mary in the foreground, with Joseph holding the offering of a pair of turtledoves or pigeons. At the bottom of the window are the words from today’s Gospel passage, the words of Simeon “O Lord, my eyes have seen thy salvation.”
As stated in the last line of Simeon’s canticle and, as is unmistakable by the way this Mass begins, the prominent theme in this feast is light as a symbol for Jesus, God Himself, coming into the Temple. Consider the high theological poetry in the first verses of St. John’s Gospel: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God…. In him was life, and the life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it…. The true light that enlightens every man was coming into the world” (Jn. 1:1, 4, 9).
The Light of life, God Himself, came into the world. To receive Him, to receive faith in Him, is a light to believers. And thus, no surprise, that the light of candles is an apt symbol for our faith. In part that’s why in baptism the newly baptized is given a candle while the minister says, “Receive the light of Christ.” The minister goes on to say, “Parents and Godparents, this light is entrusted to you to be kept burning brightly. This child of yours has been enlightened by Christ. He/she is to walk always as a child of the light. May he/she keep the flame of faith alive in his/her heart. When the Lord comes, may he/she go out to meet him with all the saints in the heavenly kingdom.”
On this feast we are supposed to think of light. We are supposed to consider that faith in Christ is a light to our lives, showing us the way. We are supposed to consider that the Light is God Himself who is our life. With all this in mind, my thought for us today is rather simple and fundamental, but so critically important if our discipleship is more than just lip service. The thought is this: Do we accept and follow that Christ, his life, and his teachings are a light to us? Do we accept that our faith gives us authoritative guidance in the darkness of our fallen world and in the darkness of our lives marked by original sin? In other words, do we embrace and receive the light of Christ as a true gift to us? Do we adults accept and obey this light for ourselves? And do we teach our children and young people to likewise be obedient to this light? I want you to seriously ask yourself whether you choose the light of Christ’s teaching or whether you choose darkness. Make it specific and concrete by thinking of a particular teaching of our faith. I say this because experience tells me time and time again that when a particular teaching of Christ and his Church – almost always areas of morality – causes us discomfort or tension or confusion and misunderstanding it is not uncommon for even a believer to adopt an unchristian secular mindset and to dismiss the teaching. It goes like this: “I know the Church says X, but personally I disagree.” But personally, what? You see what is happening there? It is no longer the light of Christ in his Church that is the guide, but the subjective personal feeling or opinion of an individual. It is no longer the light of Christ that is the guide, but the person himself becomes his own light. In so doing, the result is that we don’t follow the light of Christ but rather the secular darkness. Ask yourself, what is my “default setting” when I’m conflicted by a teaching of the Church? Is the light of Christ in his Church an authoritative source of illumination for me? Or is it I myself who am my own illumination? This tendency to adopt secular thinking as our guide is most easily seen in the hot button issues of our day. I bet we’ve all experienced it. Maybe we’re even guilty of it ourselves. Do we choose popular opinion, secular thought, as our guide? Or do we choose the light of Christ? As Christians we are supposed to embrace what Christ teaches, believing it to be liberating Good News for us. And we are supposed to seriously form our children to do the same. They too are easily swept up in secular thinking about the issues of our day. But Christ is supposed to be our light! When we do the “but personally” trick, we are not following the Light. Or rather, we are making secular darkness into our light. And if we do that we can’t seriously claim that Jesus is our Lord and that we are his disciples.
Now what am I NOT saying in this message? I am not saying that every teaching of our faith is necessarily easy to understand and to accept. We have a fallen nature from Original Sin and we are sinners guilty of our personal sins. The result is our minds suffer from darkened intellect and our wills can be weak. When a Church teaching causes you tension, go ahead and wrestle, struggle, have questions, study, seek answers… if done in faith this is a good thing and it is the path to a greater embracing of the light. I’m not saying we can’t have questions and struggles. But don’t pull the “but personally” trick and dismiss the teaching. That trick sets yourself up as the authoritative light. And it reveals that you really aren’t a follower of the Light who is Jesus. Rather, it reveals that secular darkness is your light. St. John’s Gospel goes on to say, “And this is the judgment, that the light has come into the world, and men loved darkness rather than light” (Jn. 3:19).
Today we celebrate that the light and the glory of God has come among us and entered the Jerusalem Temple. The grace of God’s word, the mercy of the confessional, and the Sacrament of the Holy Eucharist are prime sources of purification and light for us. May we dispel the darkness of placing secular opinions on the throne of Christ. Instead, may we struggle, and pray, and seek, and reform our lives such that we beg the Light who is God among us to come dwell more fully in the temple that faith and baptism have made us to be!