March 29, 2009
Posted in Homilies
at 9:00 am
Fifth Sunday In Lent
March 29, 2009
I hope everyone had a chance to enjoy the beautiful day we had yesterday, because it looks like today won’t be quite as pleasant. But the weather has been good enough recently that we’ve already seen some stirring of activity in the fields around this area. And I know that some of us who have gardens have been working to at least start preparing things for spring. Whether we are directly or indirectly involved in agriculture, even if that involvement is limited to eating what some our neighbours grow, I think that everyone in this community has a real understanding of Jesus’ reference to the grain of wheat, the seed, that must in a way die in order to be fruitful. Now, when a seed grows it doesn’t become something completely different. A grain of wheat does not grow into a stalk of corn; you won’t get zucchini from tomato seeds. What the seed does become is more of itself.
Jesus’ metaphor of the seed isn’t just abstract symbolism; it has real meaning for us, that by dying to self we too can bear more fruit, we can become more of our true selves, we can attain more of what God has in mind for us.
And of course, there’s a lot more to this Gospel. Let’s look at the three statements Jesus makes in the middle of this passage. What does He tell us? First, the seed must die in order for it to bear fruit. Second, that we must not be attached to the life of this world. Then, He speaks of serving Him by following Him, and in doing so we will be honoured by the Father.
Our dying to self is not necessarily a prerequisite of following Jesus, but following Him should naturally result in us moving away from selfishness, from being self-centred to being Christ-centred. We’re all familiar with the encounter Jesus had with the rich young man. This man wants know what he must do to inherit eternal life. He tells Jesus that he has kept all the commandments, but he obviously realises something is lacking. Jesus informs him what he still needs to do – sell everything and give it to the poor. Now, this isn’t a homily on that Gospel, so I won’t get further into that, but the point is that if the young man had truly understood what Jesus was all about, in his heart and in his head, he wouldn’t even have had to ask his question. His actions would have naturally flowed from that understanding. He would not have been so attached to his possessions that he was willing to forego eternal life in order to keep them. If he really got it, he wouldn’t have walked away sad, he would have willingly, joyfully followed Jesus’ instruction.
It is so easy to develop attachments to things, or ideas, or even our concept of self. Many of you may remember that in addition to my assignment here in the parish, I’m assigned to the MAP program working with recently released prisoners. One of the things we work on with these people is how their concept of self tends to be tied to their offence, their crime, and how that can defeat their attempts to start over. To a lesser extent, we too may have strong connections to things we identify as part of our self. Some of these things may not be bad in themselves, but can end up interfering with our relationship with God. Especially when we are so tied up in something, it can be difficult to remove it from our lives. It may happen in very small increments, but by keeping our eyes on Christ, we will work to eliminate those attachments because we truly desire to serve and follow Him.
A seed is a miraculous thing. It doesn’t think, it isn’t cognizant of what it has to do. If it is left in the sack, nothing happens. And yet, placed in the soil, and given the right conditions, it grows and reaches its full potential. The farmer or gardener will play a part, but ultimately, the result is in God’s hands. Unlike the seed, God gave us free will. We have more control over what we do, but we will never reach our full potential if we don’t get beyond the hindering parts of our shell. We need to create the right conditions for our own growth. Our ultimate success will come by combining our love of God with His grace, by placing ourselves in His care.
Jeremiah tells us that God will put His law into our hearts. When we recognize that His law really is there we will follow the commandments, not because they are imposed on us, as set of rules, but because we love God, and our natural response will be to live our lives accordingly.
What needs to happen in our lives in order to follow Jesus is unique to each of us as individuals. But, if we are truly focused on Jesus, it will be less a matter of what we need to do, and more a matter of how much more we can become when we die to self and choose to follow Christ..
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March 22, 2009
Posted in Homilies
at 9:00 am
Fourth Sunday of Lent, Year B, March 22nd, 2008
Last week I promised sweetness to all those who did their best to embrace their crosses. Today is “Laetare” or “Rejoicing” Sunday (hence the rose-coloured vestments and the roses in the desert scene in front of the altar). Today we look forward to the joy of Easter by taking a slight break from Lent. It is appropriate on this day that we also bless the new icon of Mary after the homily (our icon writer, Anne Fraigneau, is also here today). So today I offer you the sweetness of Jesus, the sweetness of Mary, the sweetness of the Holy Spirit and the sweetness of maple syrup (prop: this is fresh maple syrup from Ontario maples, bottled just a few days ago).
The first reading and the psalm speak to us of the bitterness of exile. The priests and people were exceedingly unfaithful (2 Chronicles 36: ), so God allowed Jerusalem to be invaded and destroyed, and the people to be exiled to Babylon, where they sang that lament recorded in today’s psalm: “by the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down and there we wept when we remembered Zion” (Psalm 137:1).
During Lent, we think of being with Jesus in the desert for forty days, and of bravely enduring temptation in union with Him. We are also in the desert of exile, and the desert where the Israelites wandered for forty years before they entered the Promised Land. We also must traverse this desert, patiently carrying our crosses, at times mourning our exile, as we long for the Promised Land of heaven.
Just as God gave the Israelites, in the desert and in their exile, moments of consolation, sweetness, refreshment and peace, so too does He with us, especially on rejoicing Sunday as we take a break from the desert of Lent.
For Canadians, our “desert” can be “winter” that long, cold, lifeless season, which is now endedཀ Today/yesterday was the first day of springཀ This year, rejoicing Sunday and the first day of spring coincideཀ
During winter, all the maple trees seem dead – as dead as the wood of this Cross. But there is sweetness hidden in the maple tree, and there is sweetness hidden in the Cross. We all know about the sweetness hidden in the maple tree. What is it? Yeah, maple syrup That great Canadian discoveryཀ
But how does the seemingly dead wood of the maple tree produce something so sweet? Through fire. You need fire to heat the sap and boil the heck out of it! And how does the seemingly dead wood of the cross that we have tried to embrace this Lent, how does this dead wood produce sweetness? Also through fire – the fire of the Holy Spirit, the Spirit that comes to us through the intercession of Mary (portrayed in our icon of Our Lady of Tenderness). On Ash Wednesday, I used the image of wind for the Holy Spirit – to raise our sails through prayer to catch the wind of the Spirit. But the Spirit is also called a “consuming fire,” – think of the tongues of fire that descended upon the apostles, again, through the presence and prayer of Mary.
It takes fire and time to make syrup from the sap drawn from the wood of the maple tree. It takes the Holy Spirit and perseverance to draw sweetness from the wood of the Cross. I think of two examples related to marriage. Has anyone seen that movie “Fireproof”? I highly recommend it. Without spoiling it, we see that the marriage was ultimately saved by God through “the great love with which He loved us” (second reading, Eph 2:4); the marriage was healed through the Holy Spirit, given through perseverance. Perseverance: in love, through failure, humility, conversion of heart. Only in this way did the sweetness of love return.
I think also of St. Marguerite d’Youville (I went on a tour of her museum on Monday in Montreal). Did you know that one of the most beautiful woman of her time, and the first Canadian born saint suffered through a horrible marriage? Her husband, at first so charming and dashing, turned out to be proud, selfish, indifferent, neglectful, abandoning his wife for weeks at a time to engage in his illegal liquor trading with the native Canadians. Marguerite suffered terribly from this bitter Cross that left her with a broken heart.
But, she persevered in loving this man, caring for her children, and praying to God. Then, after five years, she received an extraordinary sweetness: a revelation from God the Father of His love for her and for all people. This personal communication from God transformed her so completely that her contemporaries were astonished by the change in her. After her husband’s death, she went on to found a new religious order to care for the poor, and, as I mentioned, she became Canada’s first saint. Perseverance and the power of the Holy Spirit can turn bitterness into sweetness, and work wonders in our lives.
This sweetness of the Holy Spirit comes to us through the intercession of Mary – the same Holy Spirit that came upon her in the Incarnation of Christ, the same Holy Spirit that came upon the apostles through her presence and prayer.
In the Marian hymn “Salve Regina,” usually sung or recited at the end of Night Prayer in the Liturgy of the Hours, both exile and sweetness are mentioned. We ask Mary: “after this our exile, show unto us the blessed fruit of thy womb, Jesus.” And it begins by calling upon Mary as “vita, dulcedo et spes nostra” – our life, our sweetness, and our hope.”
Mary has also been called the “confiture des croix,” which is hard to translate – perhaps the “sweetness of crosses.” Mary is our Mother. I remember when my brother and sister and I were kids, when we were sick and had to take a “bitter pill,” medicine to make us well, we weren’t good at swallowing pills in water, so our mother would crush the bitter pill in some sweet jam on a spoon, then we would swallow it. Mary our Mother does something similar with our bitter crosses. We need the healing medicine of the cross in our lives, but on days when it seems too bitter to us, if the cross is allowed to pass through the hands of Mary, with a mother’s touch, she makes our crosses lighter, gentler, even sweet.
And she offers to each one of us her children, in this our “exile,” to those who are willing to kneel before her and ask her help, sweetness and consolation from her own Immaculate Heart. Two weeks ago I met 6 sisters at their cloistered convent in Hull: Les Servantes de Jesus-Marie. Their foundress, Eleonore Potvin, received private revelations from Jesus and Mary, back in 1894, guiding her to set up this new religious order dedicated especially to perpetual adoration and prayer for priests (by the way, please continue to pray for priests – we need itཀ)
In one revelation after receiving Holy Communion, she saw Mary with a dress white as snow, her face shining like the sun. She leaned toward Eleonore and said, “My daughter, comeཀ” Eleonore hesitated, then came forward and rested her head on Mary’s heart, a heart she felt to be on fire with love of God and love of souls (32).
That is what we do whenever we kneel before this icon of the “Our Lady of Tenderness.” We lean our heads against her heart. And if we listen, we will hear her speak the same words of consolation that she once spoke to St. Juan Diego:
“Hear and let it penetrate into your heart, my dear little son (or daughter). Let nothing discourage you, nothing depress you. Let nothing alter your heart or your countenance. Also, do not fear any illness or anxiety, vexation or pain. Am I not here who am your Mother? Are you not under my shadow and protection? Am I not your fountain of life? Are you not in the crossing of my arms? Is there anything else that you need?”
Mary our Mother always leads us closer to Jesus, to the sweetness and consolation of His Sacred Heart, and Jesus to the Father, the ultimate source of every sweetness and consolation: “God so loved the world that He gave us His only-begotten Son” (John 3:16). And the Son so loved us that He gave his life for us on the bitter Cross and continues to give us Himself in the sweetness of Holy Communion.
During our holy hours on Tuesdays from 6-7 and Fridays from 8-9, we praise Jesus in the Eucharist, saying, “You have given us bread from heaven.” The reply in Latin is: “Omne delectamentum in se habentum,” usually translated in English, “containing in itself all sweetness” “that satisfies every desire.” And even the wine we use at Mass, that becomes the Blood of Christ, is not dry wine, but a little bit sweet, to remind us of the sweetness of our Lord.
Today is “Laetare” “Rejoicing” Sunday. It’s spring in Canadaཀ It’s still Lent, but Easter is comingཀ The sap is flowing in the maple trees, but as I learned at Madonna House one afternoon as I was helping collect sap, it only flows from mid-March until the end of April, then it will be gone. If we don’t collect it now, there’ll be no maple syrup all year. It’s the same with the graces of Lent that are flowing right now: we have to collect them right now or they’ll be gone, and yet another year will go by without a change in our hearts.
It’s spring-time and the days are growing longer. The light is coming back into our world: the light of Jesus Christ, the light pouring from the hands of Mary on the Miraculous Medal. Do people love the darkness of winter more than the light of spring because their deeds are evil? (Jn 3:19). It’s not too late to confess our sins and be converted, to let the light penetrate our hearts and scatter the darkness of our pride, selfishness and indifference.
This Lent, this Easter, may we really come to believe in God’s love for usཀ May the Father’s love for us, the Son’s love for us, the Holy Spirit’s love for us, our Blessed Mother’s love for us, heal all hearts, turning bitterness into sweetness, anguish into peace, and loneliness into joy.
My brothers and sisters, my dear children, I love you all, and I want you to be happy in God. So please don’t let the new life of this spring-time pass you by. Rejoice today, persevere in your Lenten discipline of prayer, fasting and almsgiving, and look forward with great hope to Easter, and the power of Christ’s Resurrection overflowing into our personal lives, marriages, families, our parish, so that like St. Marguerite d’Youville, we will be so transformed that our friends will be astonished, and we might even surprise ourselves.
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March 15, 2009
Posted in Homilies
at 9:00 am
Third Sunday of Lent, March 15, 2009
There was once a man who felt he was carrying a very heavy cross through life (prop – 2 foot cross). He had a dream. He met someone (his guardian angel?) and complained to him about his very heavy cross. The man told him he could exchange his cross for another one, and showed him to a room full of crosses. He put down his large cross and picked up this one (2 inch cross). He was about to leave, but then he thought, “I think I could handle one slightly bigger.” He found this one (6 inch cross), then thought again and picked up this one (8 inches). Finally, when he thought of Jesus dying on the Cross, he said to himself, “well, if I rely on the grace of God instead of my own strength, I could probably carry a bigger cross. He came to the door and the man asked him, “did you find a better cross?” “Yeah, I think I can handle this one” (2 foot cross). “But that’s the one you came in with!”
“The message about the Cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God,” Saint Paul writes in the second reading (1 Cor 1:18). “For Jews demand signs and Greeks desire wisdom, but we proclaim Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles” (1 Cor 1:22-23). The claim that God would become human, poor and weak was an absolute absurdity to the pagan Greeks, as it is to many people today, and the claim that the Messiah died a shameful death on the Cross is an embarrassment to the Jews. Some people are still “enemies of the Cross of Christ” (Phil 3:18), embarrassed by a crucified Saviour, and ashamed to share in the Cross of Christ through their own personal weaknesses or failures. They complain that their Cross is too heavy, but are too proud to ask God for help. But to those who are called, we find in the Cross of Christ and our own personal crosses the power and wisdom of God.
The Jews demand signs. As they asked Jesus in today’s Gospel: “What sign can you show us for doing this?” (John 2:18). “What miracle can you perform?” Jesus answered them, “destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up” (John 2:19). The great sign Jesus will give them is His weakness and failure, His death on the Cross, followed by His glorious Resurrection.
The saints had a great veneration for Jesus Christ crucified. St. Paul and other saints closer to home such as St. Jean de Brebeuf, one of the Canadian martyrs who came to Canada in 1626 to “plant the Cross” in this uncivilized wilderness. Tomorrow/Monday, March 16th, is the 360th anniversary of his martyrdom at the hands of the Iroquois. St. Jean de Brebeuf certainly venerated the Cross of Christ by his own suffering and martyrdom, but also in the little things of everyday life, and as such, he is a model for all of us. For example, his Jesuit superior said of him that whenever they traveled by canoe, “he was the first to get into the water and the last to get out despite the rigors of freezing water and ice . . . He was the first to get up and make the fire and do the cooking, and the last of all to go to bed after he had finished his night prayers and devotions . . . And what was most amazing, in all these exhausting duties that he took upon himself, is that he accomplished them so quietly and skillfully that you would have thought he found them perfectly natural and not the last bit extraordinary” (Jean de Brebeuf’s Writings, p. 393, footnote #71)
The first reading today is the list of the ten commandments, a reminder that the cross and sacrifice most pleasing to God is obedience to his will and commandments in the little things of everyday life: studying well, working diligently at our job, serving with love the people with whom we live.
But another very important way we venerate the Cross of Christ is through acceptance of human weakness and times of failure, and our own need for God. St. Jean de Brebeuf tells an interesting story from his time among the Hurons. In 1628, there was a severe drought near Lake Huron and the corn crop was in danger. Some of the Hurons blamed the Cross and were threatening the missionaries; they were told by one of their sorcerers that the “thunder” god could not make it rain because he was afraid of the red colour of the Cross on the cabin of the Jesuit missionaries. Brebeuf refused to remove it, saying, “As for me, I shall never take down nor hide the Cross on which died He who is the cause of all our blessings” (69).
But he did agree to paint it white, and when it still did not rain, the Hurons admitted that what the sorcerer was an imposter. Brebeuf encouraged the people to turn away from sorcery to the living God who alone has power to send rain, which He finally did. Afterwards, Brebeuf led the people in a ceremony to venerate and kiss the Cross, like we do in our Good Friday liturgy.
We too, although we do not share the superstition of the pre-Christian Hurons, need to move from blaming the Cross, or being ashamed of the Cross, to venerating the Cross and carrying our own cross, in part by accepting the inescapable weakness of our human nature and our need for God, to accept certain failures that come to us either through no fault of our own, or failures that God permits to humble us and draw us to Himself.
God wants us all to find success in being the person He created us to be, which may or may not include what the world calls “success.” St. Paul teaches us the proper Christian attitude toward “success” when he writes, “whatever gains I had (whatever success, his righteousness based on the law) I have come to consider as loss (a failure) because of the supreme good of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, (and the righteousness that comes from faith) (Phil 3:7-9).
So I might ask you: have you internalized worldly standards of “success”? Are obsessed with success, in work or relationships? Are you embarrassed by your failures? I have noticed that men tend to be more embarrassed with failures regarding work, and women, with relationships.
I was asked recently what was my most embarrassing moment. It was part of a semi-humorous survey for youth portion of the diocesan website (my profile is there as vocations director). I have such a long list of failures and embarrassing moments that I didn’t know which one to choose that is fit to print. Failing my driver’s test the first time? But that was so long ago! Something more recent . . . during my time as a seminarian . . . it was during Mass . . . and I was singing the psalm . . . I butchered that poor psalm. But good came out of it! It was only through risk, failure, and perseverance that I did learn to sing the parts of the Mass. (I want to encourage the youth in the choir: don’t be afraid of learning to sing the psalm at Mass. We have to be willing to risk failure if we are ever going to grow as human beings. And don’t worry: this is not Canadian Idol. We are here to worship God. We are a family that loves and supports one another!)
If you are ashamed of your failures, what does that say about the Cross in your life, and your relationship with Christ? Are you ashamed of Christ? Are you an enemy of the Cross of Christ? Think of one of your “failures.” Realize: this is the Cross of Christ, the weakness and foolishness of God, in your life! What do we think as Christians? That the Cross is only a decoration on the wall at Church or at home, or the sign of the Cross that we make to say grace – it only goes skin deep and never cuts to the heart? No!
We must internalize the Cross of Christ and be conformed to Christ if we ever hope to attain the resurrection of the dead (Phil 3:10-11). Christ wants to live, suffer, die and rise in us. “Failure” is Christ suffering on the Cross in us, to lead us to the Resurrection.
So we must never be discouraged by our weakness or ashamed of our failures. (If failure involves personal sin, of course you must confess that sin. But after that, there is nothing to be ashamed of). As your spiritual father I want to remind you that God loves you, that I love you, that many, many people in your life love you. So this Lent and Easter, let us finally put behind us all discouragement over our weakness, and shame over failure.
The next time you fail, don’t blame the Cross or be ashamed of the Cross. Instead, like the Hurons converted by Brebeuf, let us learn to venerate the Cross, as all of us will be doing on Good Friday. And if this week you make a sincere effort to venerate the Cross, then you will experience the sweetness that comes from the Cross. Yes, next week I promise you sweetness, but you will have to come back to Mass next week to find out what that sweetness is.
Remember your cross is just the right size for you. God never gives us more than we can handle; he never allows us to be tempted beyond our strength ( 1 Cor 10:13). Try not to compare your cross with others’: “my cross is so big and hers is so small.” Priests have the privilege at times of knowing souls, but some of you have no idea about the hidden sufferings and hidden crosses of your neighbours. I actually wish people would share more of these things – a burden shared is a burden cut in half.
The great sign that Jesus gives us is His weakness and failure, His death on the Cross, followed by His glorious Resurrection. “Destroy this temple and in three days I will rebuild it.” We are also temples of God, about to receive the Lord in the Eucharist, which is the salvation of the Cross given to us to eat. May Jesus in us give us strength to carry our crosses. May Jesus in us help us achieve the greatest success of becoming the people He created us to be, and finally attain the glory of the Resurrection.
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March 8, 2009
Posted in Homilies
at 9:00 am
Second Sunday of Lent, March 08, 2009
Today, in the first reading and in the Gospel, we hear of two very different events that occur on mountains. When we think of mountains, different images may come to mind, like the Rockies out west, or maybe the Laurentians a little closer to home, and going skiing or hiking. Generally, being on a mountain provokes thoughts of being away from things, in a spot more peaceful and quiet than other places And although these readings don’t at first seem to have much more in common than their mountain setting, they are related to each other, and ultimately to our Lenten journey. In the Gospel, Mark tells us that Jesus took Peter, James, and John with Him up a high mountain. The combination of Jesus’ transfiguration, and the voice from heaven saying “This is my Son, the Beloved, listen to Him”, makes it clear to the three Apostles that Jesus is the Son of God. Jesus is the Son of God, who we know will offer Himself as sacrifice for us on the Cross on Good Friday.
As this concludes, Jesus orders them not to tell anyone about what has happened. And, as hard as it must have been for them to keep quiet about it, they did obey Jesus’ command. Later, not long before He was betrayed in the garden of Gethsemane, these same three Apostles were with Jesus as He agonized over what was to come. And despite His anxiety, asking the Father if this cup could be removed, Jesus obediently prayed to His Father: “yet not what I will, but what thou will”.
We can see how the near sacrifice of Isaac in the first reading, from Genesis, prefigures the sacrifice of Jesus. This passage is very rich, but also can be subject to misunderstanding. We need to remember that Abraham and Isaac lived in a culture and time that was radically different from our own. They didn’t live in Canada just a few generations ago. And yet, these events do speak to us across all that time and all those differences.
Back in Abraham’s day, it was common for neighbouring tribes to make human sacrifices to their false gods. This was an accepted part of their culture. Of course, we know that God would not demand that anyone kill children in order to appease Him. One of the ways that we know this is because of this very story, which taught the people who eventually became the Israelites, the people who are our spiritual ancestors, that God does not require such a terrible thing. So, why did God ask this of Abraham? We are told at the beginning that God was testing Abraham. But how did Abraham know his instructions were from God? For one thing, Abraham had a long relationship with God. They were quite familiar with each other. Remember, Abraham even negotiated with God regarding the destruction of Sodom & Gomorrah. And although Abraham had followed God for many years, he often ended up doing things at least partially his own way rather than God’s way.
There are many examples in Genesis of Abraham and Sarah not quite completely trusting God’s directions. But they knew that God loved them and kept His promises to them. In this test, finally, Abraham showed his absolute, complete trust in God. So, this is not a story of a cruel God. Instead, it is the story of tremendous faith, of a complete trust in God – a trust, an obedience, a faith that holds nothing back from God.
Are we holding anything back from God? Do we really have complete trust in Him? Are we willing to give over to God those things or ideas that separate us from Him? Lent is the perfect time to assess our relationship with God. We can see where we are strong, and build on those strengths. We can also see where we fall short, and work to improve in those areas. In order to make a proper assessment, we need to be honest with ourselves, and we need to have a knowledge and understanding of what we ideally should be. None of us will ever be perfect in this life. But the more we learn about our faith and what the Church teaches, the better equipped we will be to move forward in our relationship with God.
We have with us today the children who are preparing for the Sacraments, and their parents. These children are learning about the basics of the faith. The study of our faith is something that all of us – children, teenagers, young adults, parents & grandparents – should continue to do throughout our lives. If you stopped learning about the faith a long time ago, maybe this Lent is a good time to start again. If your main source for information about the Church is the mass media, take some time to go the real sources to get the truth. Whatever form it takes, our study should not be just an academic exercise, but a way of finding what God has to say to us, of listening to Him. Our study should always be combined with prayer, especially prayer for understanding. The more we learn, the more mature our understanding will be, and the more we will grow in love for Christ and His Church. With that love comes a deeper relationship with God, and a greater desire to live according to His will.
God will not test us in the same way He tested Abraham. But in today’s world, we do face challenges to our faith, and to our level of trust in God. Our society has to deal with issues such as poverty, war, abortion, stewardship of the earth’s resources, embryonic stem cell research, and euthanasia, among others; our response to these should be grounded in our faith. On a more individual and family level, we may deal with some of these issues in our lives directly, plus concerns regarding sexuality, contraception, the proper raising of our children, or caring for our ailing or dying loved ones. Our faith will help us to trust in the Lord as we struggle to do what is right, make the correct decisions, and follow His will.
I’ll close with some words by St. Leo the Great, from today’s Office of Readings: “When it comes to obeying the commandments or enduring adversity, the words uttered by the Father should always echo in our ears: This is my Son, the Beloved, in whom I am well pleased; listen to Him “.
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March 1, 2009
Posted in Homilies
at 9:00 am
First Sunday of Lent, Year B, March 1st, 2009
“When they said repent, I wondered what they meant,” so sings Leonard Cohen so prophetically in his song “The Future.” But this was the essence of the preaching of Jesus, and his very first words in the very first Gospel to be written: “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news” (Mark 1: 15).
Do we even hear these words anymore? Perhaps if we re-phrase them, we will wake up and realize God is talking to us, saying, “The time is right. (Now is the day of salvation!) God is near. (On your lips and in your heart) Repent –change your life, and believe in the Good News of God’s love.”
There are a few different words in the Gospels that the Holy Spirit uses to refer to change. One is the word in today’s Gospel, “metanoia” which means repent, be converted – all change includes a turning away from sin. In another place, Jesus tells us, “unless you turn/change (strepho) and become like children, you cannot enter the kingdom of God” (Mt 18:3) – all change requires childlike trust in God.
A Christian should have an unlimited readiness to change. So writes the great Catholic philosopher Deitrich Von Hildebrand in his classic work Transformation in Christ: “(an) unlimited readiness to change is not only necessary for (our) transformation in Christ . . .it represents the basic . . . response to God” (9).
I noticed this readiness to change last weekend among the twenty youth on the Challenge retreat. We see it among our own youth, and it is more or less natural for young people to have this readiness to change. Their bodies and minds are changing anyway, so they seem more open to spiritual transformation as well. Von Hildebrand comments that on a natural level, older people tend to settle down into their own peculiarities and eccentricities and become resistant to change, “cast into a rigid mold” (14). But in the supernatural life, it’s the opposite: “The readiness to change, the waxlike receptiveness towards Christ will tend not to vanish but to increase as man grows into a state of maturity” (15) and “this attainment of full maturity . . . implies eternal youth in a supernatural sense” (15).
This is why recent popes such as John Paul II and Benedict XVI and even our own archbishop have such a bond with the youth – because they are eternally young in a supernatural sense; they have an unlimited readiness to change, a necessary virtue for every Christian. Without this virtue, when hearing the preaching of our Lord Jesus Christ, we will only be able to muster a shrug of the shoulders and say, “when he said repent, I wondered what he meant.”
This is perhaps the great temptation of our times. To no longer hear the call to repentance, to lose all sense of sin, to live as if God does not exist, to live only for the unholy trinity of me, myself and I. One all-too-common manifestation of this self-centeredness is the tendency to live for money and material things. As the Catholic speaker Matthew Kelly puts it: in our culture we love things and use people; we have to be converted, and change, to start loving people and using things.
One of the causes of the current economic crisis is this idolatry: to love money and things more than God and people. The average ratio of people’s debt to annual income is currently an unprecedented 133.9% and increasing every year. That means that for every dollar a person makes, he or she owes $1.33. It is understandable to go into debt to buy a house or car. But too many people have taken on unsustainable debt out of greed for unnecessary luxuries and material things.
Everyone is concerned about the economy: will it grow at all in 2009, or will it shrink in recession? In the U.S., the economy shrank 6.2% in the last quarter ; the Canadian numbers will be released Monday. (But don’t worry. Remember what Jesus said: do not worry about your life. Seek first the kingdom of God and everything you need will be given to you (Lk 12:22, 31). So everyone is concerned about the economy. What about the human person? What about you? Are you going to grow or shrink in 2009 (spiritually, not in body size). In the spiritual life, there is actually no such thing as 0% growth. It’s either forward or backward, growth or shrinking.
The most important growth for a human being is in love – continual growth. As Pope Benedict puts it in his letter Deus Caritas Est: “love (is) a journey, an ongoing exodus out of the closed inward-looking self towards its liberation through self-giving, and thus towards authentic self-discovery and indeed the discovery of God” (#6).
As I mentioned on Ash Wednesday, in our times we are so obsessed with self: self-determination, self-help, self-improvement, self-actualization, self-absorption, self-love – self-this, self-that, so much self that we lose sight of God, living as if He does not exist. We begin to lose our love of God and neighbour, when we are so wrapped up in ourselves. It deeply grieves me when I see how people will allow love to shrivel up and die inside their hearts: their love for their spouse, parent, child, brother or sister, a friend. Why? Why do we allow this to happen? Don’t we realize how much God has loved us to the end, to the Cross? Why do we not heed his command to love Him and one another?
In today’s Gospel, Jesus preaches, “repent, and believe the good news.” Have you ever considered why He didn’t say, “believe in the good news, then repent?” Essential to the good news is God’s love for us revealed in Jesus Christ. Don’t we first have to believe in God’s love before we have the courage to change? In part, yes: to change and become like children who trust in their heavenly Father.
But Jesus says, “repent first, then you will be given the grace to believe the good news, to receive God’s love.” So we can’t expect to sit at home and watch TV and suddenly tongues of fire will descend upon us and we’ll be so filled with the Holy Spirit that we are driven to repent and confess our sins. We have to make an effort first, to honestly acknowledge our failure to love God and others as we should, to get up and go and confess our sins in the Sacrament of Reconciliation (6 priests here on March 10th). Then, after we have repented, and confessed our sins, then we will believe the good news like never before; we will receive the power of the Holy Spirit, God’s love to overflowing.
We need the power of the Holy Spirit to help us change. In today’s Gospel, we read that Jesus was “driven” by the Spirit into the wilderness where He was tempted by Satan. We also need to be driven, or at least guided, inspired and filled with the Holy Spirit (raise the “sail” – does anyone recognize this? It’s my prop from Ash Wednesday. Let’s not forget to raise our sails through prayer, to catch the wind of the Holy Spirit).
The Holy Spirit descended upon Jesus at His baptism, (just before his time in the desert). We too received the Holy Spirit at baptism (and confirmation), the baptism that saves us, as St. Peter writes in today’s second reading, not through “a removal of dirt from the body, but as an appeal to God for a good conscience through the resurrection of Jesus Christ” (1 Peter 3:21).
But this gift of the Spirit does not sanctify once and for all. We face a lifetime of temptation and struggle against the world, the flesh and the devil. We constantly need to be “re-baptized,” as it were, by continually repenting, changing, confessing our sins, and trying to grow daily in love of God and neighbour, especially in Lent, with the extra graces God offers us through prayer, fasting and almsgiving.
The Holy Father, during the last World Youth Day, spoke beautifully about the power of the Holy Spirit in our lives (speaking not only to young people but to all those who are eternally young in the supernatural sense). He said: “. . . the grace of the Spirit, is not something we can merit or achieve, but only receive as pure gift. God’s love (italics mine) can only unleash its power when it is allowed to change (italics mine) us from within. We have to let it break through the hard crust of our indifference, our spiritual weariness, our blind conformity to the spirit of this age. Only then can we let it ignite our imagination and shape our deepest desires. That is why prayer (italics mine) is so important: daily prayer, private prayer in the quiet of our hearts and before the Blessed Sacrament, and liturgical prayer in the heart of the Church” (World Youth Day homily, Sunday, July 20th, 2008).
The same Holy Spirit that inspired the preaching of Jesus (“repent and believe the good news”) is the same Spirit that will help us understand what He meant – that He is talking to you and me, and offering us, this Lent, an extraordinary opportunity to change, to love, to become a new creation.
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