Homily for September 25, 2016 (26th Sunday C)

We have a crisis, and it’s not just race and violence. We have a crisis. But it is much older than the events of the past week in Charlotte. It’s much older than the violence that has been taking place in our cities in the past few years. We have a crisis and we have had it for a long, long time. We have lost our ability to see. We are blinded as a society.

The people of Amos’ time were blinded too. So was the rich man in the parable of the Lord Jesus. They were blinded by riches. They were blinded by comfort. They were blinded by selfishness. They had lost their ability to see.

And what is it that they could no longer see? What is it that they could look upon with their eyes but not see? They were blinded to the image and likeness of God. They could not see and would not see the image and likeness of the Lord of heaven and earth in the faces of the people around them. They could not see and would not see the sacred value of the sacred gift of every life.

That was their crisis and it is ours as well. We have lost, as a society, the ability to see the gift of life. We have lost, as a society, the capacity to see the dignity of every human life as a unique and precious gift of Almighty God. We have been blinded by riches. We have been blinded by comfort. We have been blinded by selfishness.

We are blinded, as a society, every time a child is slaughtered in the womb. We are blinded, as a society, every time a child is abused or neglected. We are blinded, as a society, every time a school becomes a place of violence and not a place of learning. We are blinded, as a society, every time the sick are neglected. We are blinded, as a society, when those who live on the margins are quietly swept off the page of our history. We are blinded, as a society, when we take vengeance in the name of justice. We are blinded as a society every time a life is considered less valuable than a thing.

But we follow the One who makes the lame to walk and the blind to see. The Lord Jesus is the One who can heal our blindness. The Lord Jesus is the One who can correct our vision. The Lord Jesus is the One who can help us see what was from the beginning, the image and likeness of God. The Lord Jesus is the One who will open our eyes so that we can recognize Him and recognize His presence in every human life.

We have a crisis, and it’s not just race and violence. We have a crisis, as a society. But here in the celebration of the Eucharist, we gaze upon the face of the Savior, and He corrects our vision. In Him, we see the face of the Invisible God. We see the face of life. We see the face of hope. We see the face of love and of mercy. We look to Jesus, and pray, “Lord, I want to see.” Amen.

Preached at Our Lady of Lourdes Catholic Church, Monroe, NC

Homily for April 24, 2016 (5th Sunday of Easter C)

I have a lot of last conversations. What I mean is that in these conversations the person with whom I am speaking and I both know that this is likely our last conversation. We both know, or at least I know, that in a few days or hours, this person will see face to face the One whom I preach only in faith. It’s our last conversation as they stand on the threshold of eternal life.

Those conversations are precious and memorable. The time is short. The words are few. There is a clarity to the conversation because the time is short and the words are few and whatever needs to be said, needs to be said now.

A few years ago I was visiting my great uncle and my cousins in California. My great uncle was a very devout Catholic and attended Mass nearly every day for over fifty years. He and my aunt attended Mass every day even after he began to suffer from Alzheimer’s disease. During this particular trip, however, my great uncle was staying in a rehabilitation center after a surgery, and was not able to go to Mass. There are some privileges to having a priest in the family, even though my great uncle was not usually sure what his relationship was to this priest from North Carolina, and I obtained permission to offer Mass in the rehabilitation center for my great uncle and the other residents. After Mass, we had donuts. And as I sat at the table with my great uncle, he looked at me and said, “I know who you are, you’re my brother Ted’s grandson, and you’re a priest.” The time was short and the words were few and there was a clarity to the conversation that only the grace of God can give. That was our last conversation.

Love one another as I have loved you. It’s part of a last conversation at the Last Supper. Love one another as I have loved you. The Lord Jesus said so many things to his disciples and to the crowds during his earthly ministry. He preached about eternal life. He spoke about being born again. He talked about salt and light and seeds and harvests. Jesus did so many things. He healed the sick. He raised the dead. He fed the five thousand on the side of the mountain and spoke of the Bread of Life. He went fishing. He washed their feet in the Upper Room. He showed them what it means to love.  Jesus taught them how to love.

I was talking with a new father not long ago, and he said something very interesting. “My baby girl taught me something . . . she taught me how to love; I didn’t know we could love like that.” Wives say the same thing of their husbands and husbands say the same thing of their wives. He teaches me what it means to love. She teaches me what it means to love. Priests say the same thing of their parishes. You teach us how to love.

Jesus taught his disciples how to love. He showed them what it means to love. He gave them his time and his teaching and his mercy and his very life. Jesus gave everything to his disciples. He gave everything to his disciples to show them how to give everything . . . to each other. Jesus did not say, “Love me, as I have loved you.” Jesus said, “Love one another as I have loved you.”

Loving each other will be the testimony of our love for Jesus. This is how we show our love for Jesus. This is how we will be recognized as the disciples of the Lord: loving one another as we gather for worship, loving one another as we exit the parking lot of the Church, loving one another as we bring our children to faith formation, and loving one another each time we speak because any moment could be our last conversation.

The time is short and the words are few and there is a clarity of conversation that only the grace of God can give. Love one another as I have loved you. Amen.

Preached at Our Lady of Lourdes Catholic Church, Monroe, NC

Homily for Easter Sunday (March 27, 2016)

Homily for the Easter Vigil (March26, 2016)

Homily for Good Friday 2016 (March 25, 2016)

Normally on the 25^th of March, we celebrate the Annunciation of the Lord. We hear of the Angel Gabriel sent from God to the Virgin of Nazareth with the words, “Hail full of grace, the Lord is with you.” And we hear the magnificent words of the Virgin Mary, “Let it be done unto me according to your word.” With those sacred and powerful words, the earthly ministry of the Eternal Son of God begins.

Today we hear no words of the Virgin Mary, but are struck by the silence of the Virgin Mother. On this day, when we would expect to hear with her that “the Holy Spirit will come upon you and the power of the Most High will overshadow you,” we hear with her, “Behold your Son,” and “Behold your Mother.” And then, “It is finished.”

At the cross her station keeping, stood the mournful mother weeping, close to Jesus to the last.

A little more than forty days ago, we approached the Altar to receive the imposition of the Ashes of repentance. We traveled with the Lord Jesus to the desert, to the mountain, and to the city of God, Jerusalem. Now we approach the Altar to make our act of reverence to the wood of the Cross on which hung the Savior of the World. And there we stand with Mary, his Mother and ours. From the Cross, Christ gave her to us. At the Cross, she gives us to Him.

At the Cross her station keeping, stands our mournful Mother weeping, bringing us to Jesus to the last.

Preached at Our Lady of Lourdes Catholic Church, Monroe, NC

Homily for Holy Thursday 2016 (March 24, 2016)

I was never good at sharing. When I was a child I wanted my own room, my own desk, my own book, and my own box of crayons. I was never good at sharing, at least when I was a child.

The Son of God, however, is very good at sharing. The Lord Jesus is very good at sharing. He shares with us everything that is his, and he shares with us in everything that is ours. The Lord Jesus is very good at sharing.

The Lord Jesus has shared so much with us. When the Son of God came from heaven to the womb of the Virgin Mary, he shared the glory of heaven with the people of earth. He brought heaven’s praises to our humble prayers. He shared with all of creation the glory that was his before the foundation of the world. And Jesus shared with us the privilege to call upon God as Father. He shared his Father with us.

The Lord Jesus shares with us in everything that is ours. He knows what it is like to be a child in a far country because he was a child in Egypt. The Lord Jesus shares with us in our celebrations because he was a guest at the wedding at Cana. He shares with us in our grief for he wept at the tomb of Lazarus. The Lord Jesus shares with us in the joy of friendship as with his disciples and in the sadness of betrayal as with Judas. He shares with us in our sufferings for he was scourged and nailed to a cross. He shares with us in everything.

The Lord Jesus has shared his mission with us. He has shared his sacred work with us. In our baptism Christ the Lord bestowed a royal priesthood upon each of us. We are each sharers in his mission as priest, prophet and king. We each are united to Christ in offering the sacrifice of our lives, in proclaiming the words of salvation, and shepherding the kingdom of God. The Lord Jesus has shared this royal mission with all of us.

But then, with the kindness of a brother, the Lord Jesus chose some of us, at least two of us here, to share in his sacred ministry by the laying on of hands. The Lord Jesus chose us not because we were worthy but to show the abundance of his mercy. The Lord Jesus shares with his priests his sacred work in a particular way. The Lord Jesus shares with his priests his power, but his power is shared only for the glory of God and for the loving service of his people. The Lord Jesus shares with his priests the privilege of living with, and crying with, and preaching with, and rejoicing with the holy and glorious people of God. The Lord Jesus has shared so much with us.

And tonight, the Lord Jesus shares with us his Body and Blood. On the night before he died, he gathered his apostles. He consecrated bread and wine to be his Body and Blood. He consecrated his apostles so that they would consecrate bread and wine to be his Body and Blood. Through his Body and Blood, the Lord Jesus consecrates you and me so that we can share in his life as we make our way to the Kingdom where he lives and reigns with the Father and the Holy Spirit, one God forever and ever. Amen.

Preached at Our Lady of Lourdes Catholic Church, Monroe, NC

Homily for February 21, 2016 (2nd Sunday of Lent C)

Early on Thursday morning I was sitting in the Chapel in the rectory. It was quiet. It was peaceful. It was one of those rare moments in prayer when I felt like my capacity to be present to the Lord, to be physically, spiritually, and emotionally present before the Lord who made me, met the unending and passionate desire of the Lord to be present to me. It was one of those rare moments in the silence and the stillness and the quiet when we know that we are in the presence of the Holy One. And I wanted to stay there. I wanted to stay there in the presence of the Lord. I wanted to stay there in the peaceful silence of that peaceful moment of prayer. I wanted to stay there. But there was work to be done. There was holy work to be done. There was the work of the Lord Jesus Christ to be done. And so I left the silence and the stillness and quiet of the rectory chapel.

We treasure those moments, those rare moments, in the silence and the stillness and the quiet of prayer. These moments are not our normal experience of prayer each day. Much of our time in prayer can seem more like days in the parched land of the desert than moments on the mountaintop. But in the desert or on the mountaintop God is praised. In the desert or on the mountaintop we meet the Lord who has come to meet us. We like to stay on the mountaintop, though, because on the mountaintop, we catch a glimpse of glory.

It was that way for the apostles too.  Most of their days were spent in the hard work of preaching the kingdom, caring for the sick, going on long journeys, and listening to the Master. Most of their days were not spent in the silence and the stillness and the quiet. They were spent on the sea, in the cities, and among the noise of the world. But one day, Peter, James and John went with Jesus to the mountaintop. And there they caught a glimpse of his glory. They saw on the mountaintop the glory of the only Son of the Father shining through the face and the body of Jesus Christ. They saw his glory, and they wanted to stay there. They wanted to stay there because they knew that they were in the presence of the Holy One.

They wanted to stay there because they caught a glimpse of his glory. They wanted to stay there because they heard the voice of the Father. They wanted to stay there because in the presence of the glory of the Most High God, they recognized what Paul would later write. Our citizenship is in heaven. We have been invited and claimed by Jesus Christ to join him in his glory. Our true homeland is the mountaintop. Our destiny is in the glory of heaven.

But there is work to be done in the land of exile. There is work to be done as we make our pilgrimage to the land of glory. In the waters of Baptism, Jesus Christ claimed us and named us as citizens of heaven. But for this time, we are called to live on earth as citizens of heaven. Here we will live the life of Jesus Christ. Here we will live as children of God reflecting the glory of the Holy One. Or here we will renounce the light of our heavenly citizenship and embrace the darkness of sin to live forever in the land of exile. That is the reward of sin. In sin, we choose exile over glory.

But God has chosen us for glory. God has invited us to the mountaintop even as we make our pilgrimage through the desert. He has given us a glimpse of his glory to light our way to our true homeland. He has given us light, but not only has he given us light. In the waters of our baptism and in the nourishment of the Eucharist, Jesus Christ makes each of us a glimpse of his glory. Jesus Christ makes you and me into a glimpse of his glory so that we will be a light on the way to the kingdom where he lives and reigns with the Father and the Holy Spirit, one God, forever and ever.

Preached at Our Lady of Lourdes Catholic Church, Monroe, NC