Homily for May 20, 2018 (Pentecost)

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Five months ago, we were gathered together at Bethlehem. We were there on the night that the Lord Jesus was born.  We saw the manger.  We saw the shepherds.  We heard the angels and we saw Our Lady and St. Joseph. We beheld the face of the invisible God in the face of a baby. It was beautiful and peaceful. It was safe and it was holy.

Fifty days ago, we were gathered at the empty tomb.  We were there on the morning of the glorious resurrection.  We saw the stone that was rolled away.  We saw the burial cloths.  We heard the announcement of the angels and the message of Mary Magdalene.  We heard the voice of Jesus and we recognized him in a gardener who knew our name. It was beautiful and glorious. It was joyful and holy.

A week ago we were gathered on the mountain.  We were gathered as the Lord Jesus ascended into heaven and took his place at the right hand of the Father.  We received his blessing.  We heard the voices of the angels.  We were filled with joy because the Lord promised to remain with us always.  And we were told to await the gift of the Holy Spirit. It was beautiful and hopeful. It was comforting and holy.

Today, we are gathered in the Upper Room. Here we receive the promised gift of the Holy Spirit. From here we are sent out.  We are sent out to all of the world, or some small part of it.  We are sent out with the power from on high that appeared in tongues of fire over the heads of the apostles.  We are sent out with the message of forgiveness and mercy and life and holiness.  We are sent out from the Upper Room.

But honestly, dear brothers and sisters, I was comfortable at Bethlehem. It was beautiful and peaceful.  I was comfortable at the empty tomb. It was beautiful and glorious.  I was even comfortable at the mountain of the Ascension. It was beautiful and comforting.  At Bethlehem, at the empty tomb, and at the mountain of the Ascension, we were accepted and we were loved.  We were gathered together in the presence of the Lord.  We were embraced by the love of God that comes before us.  We were embraced by the love of God that surrounds us.  We were embraced by the love of God that is promised to us.  At Bethlehem, at the empty tomb, and at the mountain of the Ascension, we were accepted and we were loved.  I am comfortable there, and maybe you are too.

I am comfortable in the Upper Room. It is beautiful and safe. It is peaceful and holy. In the Upper Room I feel protected. In the Upper Room I feel secure. There are no school shootings in the Upper Room. There is no opioid crisis in the Upper Room. There is no persecution in the Upper Room. In the Upper Room there is prayer and comfort and consolation and community. It is so very tempting to stay in the Upper Room. Maybe we could build on to the Upper Room. Maybe we could keep ourselves safe in the Upper Room. Maybe we could stay in the Upper Room, knock out a few walls and make the Upper Room bigger, and keep the message of salvation and gift of the Holy Spirit for ourselves. It is safe and comfortable in the Upper Room.

But the Spirit sends us out.  The Spirit sends us out from the Upper Room.  The Spirit sends us out to the world. In the world we meet rejection.  In the world we meet hostility.  In the world, we meet hatred and jealousy and persecution.  I was comfortable in the Upper Room, and maybe you were too.

But the Spirit sends us out.  The Spirit sends us out with the power from on high.  The Spirit sends us out with the joy of the Gospel.  The Spirit sends us out equipped for every good work to build up the Kingdom.  The Spirit embraces us.  The Spirit empowers us.  The Spirit sends us forth, and by the fire of his love he burns away the fear in our hearts. The Spirit has been at work in the world since that moment when the Spirit hovered over the waters at the dawn of creation. The Spirit is joining us to work that He is already doing. We need not fear leaving the Upper Room for the Spirit who sends us out is the Spirit who surrounds us and supports us.

But before we are sent, we shall be fed. Here at the Altar, by the power of the Spirit we will be fed with the bread of life. And the Spirit will lead us through the world and to that Kingdom where with the Father and the Son, One God lives and reigns forever and ever. Amen.

Homily for May 13, 2018 (Ascension)

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Yesterday we celebrated First Holy Communion here at Our Lady of Lourdes. One hundred and fifty three of our young people received Jesus in Holy Communion yesterday for the first time. Many of them will be here today for Second Communion. They have come to meet Jesus again and so have we. We have come here to meet Jesus again.

Today we celebrate the Ascension of the Lord Jesus. Forty days after his resurrection, Jesus ascends to the glory of the Father. He returns to the right hand of the All Powerful Father because his work is accomplished. He has conquered sin. He has conquered death. He has claimed the victory. Jesus now enters the temple of heavenly glory.

But he still has the marks of his passion. He still bears the wounds in his hands, his feet, and his side. Jesus still has the marks of one who has suffered. But now in the glory of the kingdom, the wounds of Jesus are trophies of victory. Each of his wounds is now radiant in glory. The wounds are not signs of defeat; they are trophies of victory.

And though Jesus has ascended to the Father, he has promised to remain with us always. Jesus has promised to meet us. We have not been abandoned. With the ascension of the Lord Jesus, the power and the presence of his earthly ministry flow into the sacraments. Jesus ascends to heaven and he extends his power. He is taken from sight but he still comes to meet us.

In every sacramental celebration, we meet Jesus. We are offered a personal encounter with the Risen Lord.  Like Saint Paul on the road to Damascus, we meet Jesus. Like the disciples on the road to Emmaus, we meet Jesus. Like Mary Magdalene at the tomb, we meet Jesus. Each of us is offered an encounter with the Risen Lord. Our encounter with the Risen Lord is no less real than the encounter of those who walked with him in Jerusalem. The way that we meet Jesus is different, but the One we meet is the same. We meet the Lord Jesus in the sacraments.

We celebrate the sacraments together; we receive them individually.  These moments of grace, where God in his love and mercy has promised to act in a particular way, are personal.  One by one we were baptized and one by one we were confirmed.  One by one we are absolved in the Sacrament of Reconciliation and one by one we receive the holy anointing.  One by one we receive the precious body and blood of the Lord in Holy Communion.  The promise of the Lord Jesus which is offered to all of us, is received by each of us. Jesus comes to meet you and me.

Jesus comes to meet you and me in our joys. Jesus comes to meet you and me in our sorrows. Jesus comes to meet you and me in the wounds that we want to hide. Sometimes we want to keep our wounds from Jesus. We want to hide the hurt. We want to hide the pain. We want to hide the grief. We want to hide the shame. We want to hide the wounds . . . until we meet the one who is wounded. Our fear falls away when we look at the wounds of Jesus. He wants to meet me and meet you where we are broken. There is where Jesus will claim the victory. There is where the power that conquered sin and death and fear and shame will triumph.

Jesus meets us where we are broken. Now we will meet Jesus in the breaking of the bread. Amen.

Homily for May 6, 2018 (6th Sunday of Easter B)

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Six Sundays ago we celebrated Easter. Next Saturday we will celebrate First Holy Communion in our parish and next Sunday the Ascension of the Lord. Two weeks from now we will celebrate Pentecost. And in seven months and nineteen days, we will celebrate Christmas. Time moves quickly: so many parents and teachers in our community know this. It seems like the first day of first grade was only a few days ago. And now there is a high school or college graduation. It seems like the baptism was only a few months ago and next Saturday is First Communion. Time moves quickly. The images of our memories move quickly. The images of our relationships move so very quickly through our memories.

Images are powerful. Images are filled with memory and emotion. They speak to us. Images tell our story. They tell us our history and our values. Images tell us about our relationships. I am the Good Shepherd. I know my sheep and my sheep know me. Images tell us about our unity. I am the vine and you are the branches. We are precious in the sight of the shepherd and we draw our life from the vine. We are fed by the shepherd and nourished by the vine. The images move so quickly. Time moves so quickly.

And maybe that is why, when there was only a little time left on that Holy Thursday evening, Jesus spoke so directly: I no longer call you slaves, but my friends. I have called you friends because I have told you everything I have heard from my Father. Jesus Christ calls each of us his friend.

A sheep is purchased or born into a flock and a branch springs forth from the vine; a friend is chosen. A friend shares in the joys. A friend shares in the meal. A friend shares in the hopes and the dreams, the tears and the triumphs. A friend shares in the suffering and the grief. A friend shares in the silence when words are no longer necessary. And Jesus calls each of us his friend.

Friendship is dangerous. It is easy to get hurt. When Jesus calls the disciples his friends at the Last Supper, Judas has already left. Peter, who will deny him only a few hours later, is still reclining at the table. The other disciples will abandon Jesus so quickly when the guards arrest him. Jesus calls them friends and soon after they run away. Friendship is dangerous. It is easy to get hurt. An open heart is easily pierced. And yet, Jesus Christ calls each of us his friend.

Jesus calls us friends. He chose us to be his friends. Jesus came to meet us. Simon and Andrew were not looking for Jesus while they were fishing. Jesus was looking for them. Matthew was not looking for Jesus. Matthew was sitting at the customs table. Jesus was looking for him. Jesus chose his disciples and he chooses to call them his friends. Jesus called us to be his disciples and he chooses to call us his friends. We are friends of Jesus Christ. He has called each of us his friend.

And that means that we share in the joys and the sufferings in the heart of Jesus. We share in the agony in the garden. We share in the scourging at the pillar. We share in the cross . . . and we share in the empty tomb. We share in the victory over sin and death. We share in the glory of God which shines on the face of Jesus Christ. Jesus shares everything with us. We are more than sheep. We are more than branches. We are friends of Jesus Christ.

And now, Jesus Christ invites us to his table. We come quickly to the banquet where Christ the Savior, the High Priest of our confession and the Lamb who once was slain but lives forever, calls us his friends and feeds us for eternal life. Amen.