Homily for February 28, 2021 (2nd Sunday of Lent B)

 

Watch the Homily

There is something beautiful about the top of a mountain. You can see things from the top of a mountain that you cannot see in the valley. You can look out and see the trees and the hills and the houses and the lakes and the cities in the distance from the top of a mountain. There is something beautiful about the top of a mountain. We even refer to great experiences, especially spiritual ones, as going to the mountaintop.

Noah went to the mountaintop. Abraham went to the mountaintop. Moses went to the mountaintop. Isaiah went to the mountaintop. Today Jesus invites Peter, James and John, and you and me to the top of a mountain. We go to the mountaintop to witness the transfiguration of Jesus.

The Transfiguration of the Lord Jesus is an invitation to draw near to the mountaintop.  Peter, James, and John were invited up a high mountain by the Lord Jesus. And there, the three disciples saw the glory of the only Son of God. Jesus Christ was transfigured before them. His clothes became dazzlingly bright. Peter, James, and John looked upon the face of a man and they saw the face of the Eternal God. In the transfigured glory of Christ, the disciples saw Moses and Elijah. They saw the law and the prophets standing with him who is the fulfillment of all law and all prophecy. They heard the voice of the Father declaring the identity of his Son. “This is my beloved Son. Listen to him.” Now earlier in the gospel, Peter had proclaimed the identity of Jesus in faith. Now the voice of the Father announces his identity in fact. The three disciples had been invited up a high mountain.  They had entered into the holy presence of the Most Holy God. There is something beautiful about the top of a mountain.

But they could not remain on the mountaintop. Three tents could not hold the presence of the law and the prophets and the Savior of the world. The Transfiguration was a moment of encouragement and consolation for the disciples in anticipation of the suffering of the servant in Jerusalem. The visit to the mountaintop was a gift to them in anticipation of the greatest gift, which is the Resurrection. The Lord Jesus called them from their vision of glory, and told them not to be afraid.  He invited them to give up their fear and their comfort on the mountain and to be consoled by Jesus alone. Three tents on a high mountain could not hold the divine presence . . . but three crosses on a low mountain would.  

On the cross on the low mountain of Calvary, the Son of God would offer the perfect response in obedience to the invitation of the Father.  

The Lord Jesus did not invite us to a high mountain today. And yet, in our midst, the words of the prophets and the precepts of the law are announced. The voice of a man will speak with the power of the Son of God and veiled in the simple gifts that only faith can recognize, Jesus Christ is made present to us. The Lord has invited us. By faith, we have come to the mountaintop. Here we receive the word of consolation. Here, we receive the word of divine promise. In this place and at this moment we proclaim with Peter, “Lord, it is good that we are here.”  Amen. 

Homily for February 21, 2021 (1st Sunday of Lent B)

 Watch the Homily

Every Lent I seem to do the same things.  I think about the great season of Lent and the joy of preparing for the great feast of Easter, and I start to plan.  I will make this sacrifice.  I will not eat this particular food.  I will say these additional prayers.  I will take more time to be alone with God alone.  I will be nicer.  I will be more patient. 
        And then, in the midst of all of those plans, I am surprised when Lent begins.  It happens so quickly.  One evening it is Ordinary Time and the next morning is Ash Wednesday.  I have to make my list of prayers.  I have to remember which foods I promised not to eat.  I need to choose another sacrifice for Lent.  I need to make another promise to God.  I need to slow down, but quickly.  There is so much to do.  There are so many promises to make and promises to keep.
        Every Lent I seem to do the same things.  But maybe this Lent, things could be different.  Maybe this Lent, I will not worry so much about the sacrifices that I should make.  Maybe this Lent, I will not worry so much about eating this food or that one.  Maybe this Lent, I will not try to add any more prayers to my day.  Maybe this Lent I will choose only one thing, because only one thing is truly important.  Only one thing really matters: following Jesus Christ.
        We will follow Jesus Christ, from the baptism to the desert, and from the desert to his preaching.  We will follow him with the sick and we will follow him with the sinners.  We will follow him up the mountain.  We will follow him to the Upper Room.  We will follow him to a court room, and to a lonely cross.  We will follow Jesus Christ this Lent.
        This Lent, things will be different.  We will not focus on our sacrifices, but on His Sacrifice.  We will not focus on eating this food or that one, but on being fed by every word that comes forth from the mouth of God.  This Lent, we will say our prayers, but we will focus not on the number of prayers, but on the God to whom we pray.  This Lent, things will be different.
        The Lord Jesus began his preaching with a simple message: “The Kingdom of God is at hand; repent and believe in the Gospel.” We begin this season of Lent with a simple goal: to follow Jesus Christ.  He will lead and we will follow.  He will speak and we will hear.  He will feed us and we will be filled.  He will promise, and we will be changed.
        This Lent will be different.  Amen.  

Homily for February 14, 2021 (Our Lady of Lourdes Sunday)

 Watch the Homily

“There is something you need to understand, Father,” a man said to me a few years ago. “There is something you need to understand. Our Lady comes to the forgotten places. Our Lady comes to bring the light of Christ to the darkness. Our Lady came to the place where there was only garbage and she made it a place of healing. This is something you need to understand, Father.”
When Our Lady appeared to St. Bernadette in Lourdes, France, there was no giant and glorious basilica near the Grotto. Our Lady did not appear inside the building of the parish church. She did not appear to the rich and the powerful. She did not appear to the benefactors of society. Our Lady appeared in a cave to a very poor little girl named Bernadette. The place where Our Lady appeared in Lourdes was used to pasture animals, to find firewood, and as the city garbage dump. And Our Lady changed that. St. Bernadette changed that. The people of God changed that. Ultimately, God has transformed a land for animals and for garbage into a place of mercy, grace, and healing. 
Our Lady comes to the forgotten places. Our Lady comes to bring light in the darkness. Our Lady comes to take possession not only of forgotten places and damaged places and dirty places. Our Lady comes to extend her motherly care to forgotten persons and damaged persons and sinful persons. She is always extending a mother’s love.
        Our Lady did not wait inside a building. She did not wait where it was safe and warm and comfortable. Our Lady is not simply waiting. Our Lady is looking. She comes to find those who are lost. She goes out to seek out those who are seeking. She looks for the poor and the humble and the neglected. 
        “There is something you need to understand, Father,” a man said to me a few years ago. “There is something you need to understand. Our Lady comes to the forgotten places. Our Lady comes to bring the light of Christ to the darkness. Our Lady came to the place where there was only garbage and she made it a place of healing. This is something you need to understand, Father.”
        “I love the story of Our Lady of Lourdes,” I said to the man. “She came to the forgotten places, to the neglected places, to bring light in the darkness. Our Lady of Lourdes came to the city garbage dump and made it beautiful and holy.” And the man, taking a deep breath, said to me, “I love the story of Our Lady of Lourdes, too. But I am telling you my story. The love of Our Lady came to me when I was forgotten and lost and sinful and my life was like the city garbage dump. I am not saying that she appeared to me, but her love and her message, and her healing came to me. She received me as broken as I was and I hope that she has made me something beautiful for her Son.”
        I looked back at the man, and I knew that Our Lady had made something beautiful for her Son. And there were only six words that I could muster to say to this man who had shared the love and healing and mercy of Our Lady with me. I said simply, “Father, please give me your blessing.”
        And now I look to you, o people of Our Lady of Lourdes, and I see that Our Lady has made you, and hopefully us, something beautiful for her Son. 

Homily for Sunday, February 7, 2021 (5th Sunday B)

Watch the Homily 
    My grandmother was born in Statesville, North Carolina. My grandfather, on the other hand, was born in Birmingham, Alabama. Those two facts alone make it seem unlikely that they would ever meet. A few years ago I asked them, “Where did you meet?” It’s an ordinary question, where did you meet? My grandmother told me that her father and her brother were working on some big project in Tennessee and she went with them to take care of her father and brother. My grandfather was in the Navy and he was there in Tennessee as a guard for some big project that was going on there. This was during the final year of the Second World War, and the project they were probably talking about is far more interesting to history, than the meeting of two people. But for me, the question that I care about is, “Where did you meet?”
    It’s a pretty ordinary question. Where did you meet? Sometimes it’s the beginning of a good story. Sometimes it’s the beginning of a great story. It could tell us about a friendship, about a marriage, about a career, about a life. We met in a combined fourth and fifth grade class. We met in college. We met at a wedding. We met at a funeral. We met when we were standing in line at the grocery store. We met at our parish. We met as we were walking along the road. Where did you meet?
    Peter and Andrew and James and John met the Lord Jesus while they were at work. They were on the sea and Jesus called them from the shore. They went to the Synagogue and then Peter and Andrew brought Jesus to their home. They met Jesus at work. They joined Jesus in worship. They invited him into their home. Jesus was not simply someone they met at work. Jesus was not simply someone from their synagogue. Jesus came to their home and he came to their lives. There would not be a public relationship with Jesus Christ without a personal one. And there would not be a personal relationship with Jesus without a communal one. Where did you meet? We met at the house where Jesus was visiting.
    Peter’s mother in law met Jesus in her sickness. She was probably isolated. She was sick and separated. She was alone and in pain. And Jesus came to her. He said nothing and he took her by the hand. She met Jesus and she was restored to life in the place where she was preparing to die. Jesus took her by the hand. Jesus raised her up. Jesus set her free from isolation and from illness. Jesus set her free for service to his kingdom. Jesus healed her and she served him. Where did you meet? I met Jesus in the place where I thought I was going to die.
    Where did you meet Jesus? I was at work at the tax collectors’ office. Where did you meet Jesus? I was at a wedding and they ran out of wine. Where did you meet Jesus? I was at a funeral in Bethany and I heard Jesus say, “Roll back the stone.”  Where did you meet Jesus? I was on the road to Damascus.
    Where did you meet Jesus? Were you sick and he reached out and took you by the hand? Were you trapped in sin and he called you to freedom? Were you a child and Jesus claimed you? Were you grieving and Jesus spoke words of hope and consolation? Where did you meet Jesus for the first time?
    Where will you meet Jesus today? He comes to us in the Word proclaimed. Jesus comes to us in the community that is gathered here. We came here as individuals. We worship as a body. Here and now, we shall meet Jesus in the breaking of the bread.
Where did you meet Jesus? It’s the beginning of a great story. Amen.

Homily for January 31, 2021 (4th Sunday B)

Watch the Homily 

On most of the Sundays in Ordinary Time this year, we will hear from the Gospel of Mark. We will hear the words of Mark, which probably reflect the preaching of Peter the Apostle, and we will walk with the Lord Jesus. We are traveling with Jesus and Mark serves as our guide this year.

Each of the four evangelists, Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, emphasize different things and sometimes give us different pieces of the story. They originally wrote for different groups of people and in different places. For Mark, every story and every miracle and every teaching shows us two things. In every story and every miracle and every teaching, Mark shows us who Jesus is and he shows us what it means to follow Jesus. Who do we follow and how do we follow? That is what we will hear every time we hear from the Gospel of Mark. Who do we follow and how do we follow?

Today we follow Jesus into the synagogue at Capernaum. In the synagogue at Capernaum, Jesus teaches and Jesus casts out an unclean spirit. The people in the synagogue at Capernaum are amazed and astonished. Who do we follow and how do we follow?

Jesus has the authority to teach. It isn’t like the authority of scribes and the scholars. The authority of Jesus comes from within him. He is a prophet greater than Moses. Jesus has the teaching authority of Almighty God. Moses led the people out of Egypt and freed them from the bondage of Pharaoh. Jesus, in the synagogue at Capernaum, frees a man from the bondage of an unclean spirit. Jesus teaches with the authority of God and liberates with the power of God. Who do we follow and how do we follow?

We follow Jesus, the Son of God. We follow the one who has divine authority and divine power. And today we are simply invited to be amazed and astonished. That is how we follow the Lord Jesus on this Sunday in Ordinary Time. To be amazed and astonished once again by the authority and power of Jesus. Who do we follow and how do we follow?

We have heard this story from Mark, which he heard from Peter, many times. It is easy to lose our amazement and astonishment when we hear such a familiar story. The words can easily pass by our ears and by our minds. It was probably the same way for the people in the synagogue at Capernaum on that sabbath day. They heard familiar readings from the scriptures. They heard teaching about those scriptures. There was something ordinary about the sabbath. Except, in the midst of his teaching, Jesus freed someone from an unclean spirit. In the midst of his amazing teaching on the sabbath day in the synagogue at Capernaum, Jesus performed a miracle of liberation and freedom. At his word, Jesus set someone free.

And Jesus wants to set us free. Whatever holds you bound this morning, let the word of Christ free you. Jesus is more than a teacher. Jesus is the one who will set us free. It is amazing.

Homily for January 24, 2021 (3rd Sunday B)

Watch the Homily 

    There is an ancient tradition that the Gospel of Mark is based on the preaching of Peter the Apostle. We think Mark traveled with Peter. Most likely, Mark was originally from Palestine. He is probably the same Mark mentioned in the Acts of the Apostles who is a nephew of Barnabas and who traveled for a little while with Paul. It seems like Mark had a very interesting life.

    Think about this for just a moment. Mark traveled with Peter and he heard the stories of Jesus. Over and over again as Peter preached in different places and to different peoples, Mark heard the stories of Jesus. He heard about the call of the first disciples. He heard about some of the miracles. He heard about the battles with the demons. He heard about some of the healings, and he heard about the suffering and the death of Jesus. Again and again, Mark heard the story of Jesus from the voice of Peter.

    And then he wrote it down. He heard it. He thought about it. He organized it. Mark wrote down the story of Jesus that he heard from the voice of Peter. He listened and he believed and he shared.

    We will hear from the Gospel of Mark on most of the Sundays of Ordinary Time this year. We will hear an echo of the voice of Peter on most of the Sundays of Ordinary Time this year. In a certain way, we get to travel with Peter the Apostle and Mark the evangelist. 

    But the story we will hear is not centered on Peter and does not even mention Mark. The story that Mark writes that he heard from Peter is about Jesus. We come to know the Lord Jesus through the writing of Mark and the preaching of Peter.

    Our Holy Father Francis, who speaks with the voice of Peter, invites us on this Sunday to a deeper embrace of the Word of God in the Bible. The Pope invites us to pick up the Scriptures, to read the words of Mark, to hear the voice of Peter, and to know the Lord Jesus. And as we take up the scriptures and allow ourselves to be nourished by the Word, we are prepared more and more to be nourished by the Eucharist. When we come to know the Lord in his Word we will come to recognize him more and more at his table. The Lord invites us to be nourished. He wants to feed us. Amen.

Homily for January 17, 2021 (2nd Sunday B)

 Watch the Homily

    We return to the Sundays of Ordinary time in a time that is anything but ordinary. The gold of Christmas and Epiphany and the Baptism of the Lord now gives way to the green for a short time before we will take up the purple of Lent. In this ordinary time which is anything but ordinary, we take the time to walk with Jesus and those first disciples.

    Words are ordinary. We use words all of the time. We speak them. We write them. We read them. Words are an ordinary part of our days and of our lives. But first words are special. The first words of a child are eagerly awaited and always remembered. The first words of a book and the first words of a song are carefully chosen so that they hold the interest of the reader and the listener. First words are important.

    And today, we hear the first words of Jesus in the Gospel of John. Is it a call to repentance? No, that is in Mark. Is it a request to be baptized in the Jordan river? No, that is in Matthew. Perhaps it is the 12-year-old Jesus asking his parents a question in the Temple? No, that is in Luke. The first words of Jesus in the Gospel of John are a question to two people who were following him. And what is the question? What are the first words of Jesus in the Gospel of John?

    What are you looking for? These are the first words. What are you looking for? The ultimate answer to this first question is, in fact, the person who is asking the question. What are you looking for? We are looking for you.

    We are looking for you, Lord Jesus, in an ordinary time that is anything but ordinary. We are looking for you, O Divine Physician, in a time of sickness and pandemic. We are looking for you, O Prince of Peace, as violence breaks out in our nation and threatens our world. We are looking for you, O Lord of Life, to give us a word of hope and a word of grace and a word of life. What are you looking for? We are looking for you.

    We are looking for the Lord Jesus and we have come where he has promised to be. In the Word proclaimed, in the holy people gathered, in the ministry of his apostles, in the Sacrament of his Body and Blood, Jesus has promised to meet us. Here we meet him. Here we find him. For a moment, and just for a moment, we do not need to search. We do not need to look for another.

    On Easter morning, in the Gospel of John, Jesus will ask a question of Mary Magdalene. It is similar, but not the same. He does not ask her, “What are you looking for?” Jesus askes Mary Magdalene, “Whom are you looking for?” We have come here not because we are looking for something, but because here we have found someone. Amen.

Homily for Sunday, January 10, 2021 The Baptism of the Lord

Watch the Homily

       This has been a strange and unusual week. I saw so many things that I never imagined that I would see. I heard so many things that I never imagined that I would hear. And yet, in the midst of all of the various things in the various places, there was one verse of Scripture, a brief statement from our friend Paul, that kept coming to mind. Our citizenship is in heaven.

    Our citizenship is in heaven. Paul does not say that we will be citizens of heaven. It is not a word of prophecy. It is a word of reality. He says that our citizenship is in heaven. At this moment, right now, we are citizens of heaven.

How did that happen? How did we, who were born on earth and who live on earth, become citizens of heaven? The Son of the Eternal Father came down from heaven. The Son of God joined the story of earth and he joined the story of the earth to the song of heaven. Our citizenship is in heaven because Christ came from heaven and claimed us as his own.

We were claimed in the waters of our baptism. We were baptized into the death and more importantly into the life of Jesus. We were made a member of his body and we were claimed as a citizen of heaven. Christ Jesus entered into the waters of the Jordan to make the water holy so that in the waters of baptism we would be united to Christ Jesus.

Our citizenship is in heaven. Christ has come from heaven to join us to himself. He claimed us in the waters of our baptism. And in the waters of our baptism, he consecrated each of us to join in his great feast. In the celebration of the Eucharist, all who are baptized are joined to the offering of Christ and we celebrate here and now the Wedding Feast of the Lamb of God who lives and reigns forever and ever.

Homily for January 3, 2021 The Epiphany of the Lord

Watch the Homily  

 One of the last gifts that my maternal grandfather gave to me was a book.  I think that I was about thirteen years old.  It was a book of prayers.  It was a book of prayers written specifically for a teenage boy, and my grandfather said that the book was something he thought I might need.  Normally a book tells a story. This particular book foretold my future. The gift was an indication of the life ahead.

    It is the same with the three gifts that were given to the Lord Jesus by the magi from the east.  The gifts that the magi brought to the Lord Jesus were an indication of the identity of the child and of his mission.  In these gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh that were given to the child Jesus, we see who he is and what he is sent to do.

    Gold is the gift for a king. It is a sign of royal dignity. The Lord Jesus was born to be king of Israel, yet from all eternity he reigned in heaven. Jesus Christ is the king who will establish a universal kingdom, a kingdom of truth and life, a kingdom of holiness and grace, a kingdom of justice, love and peace.  He is the king who conquers sin and he will conquer death forever.  Jesus Christ is the king who will take his place at the right hand of the power and majesty of God the Father.  The magi bring him gold, because the child is a king.

    Frankincense is the gift for a priest. Frankincense is used as a sign of honor and reverence and it is a symbol of prayer. We use incense in the celebration of the liturgy to signify and honor the presence of Christ in the altar, the words of the Gospel, the holy gifts, the priest, and the holy people of God. Christ is the High Priest of our confession of faith. He is the one who was sent from the Father and he unites us to heaven’s unceasing song of praise. He is the one who returns to the Father offering the blood of sacrifice. The Lord Jesus is the high priest who enters the temple that was not made by human hands. He is the high priest who lives forever to make intercession for us. The magi bring him frankincense because the child is a priest.

    The gift of myrrh is prophetic. Myrrh is very, very expensive. It is possible that the gift of myrrh was more valuable than the gold or the frankincense. Myrrh is used to prepare a body for burial.  This gift is given because the Lord Jesus was born to die. The Lord Jesus is the king of the universe, the high priest of our confession, and he is the lamb of sacrifice. He is the victim and the acceptable offering for the sins of the world. Through him, all of the other sacrifices of the temple will come to an end. Through him, and with him, and in him, all of the sacrifices of our lives of faith will be received in the presence of the Most High God. The magi bring him the gift of myrrh because the Lord Jesus will die for the sins of the world.

    In the early years of his earthly life, the magi brought the child Jesus the gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. These gifts were an indication of who the child was called to be. We were not brought gold, frankincense, and myrrh, but in the waters of baptism, we were given faith, hope, and love.  These divine gifts were given to each of us as an indication of who we are called to be.  Our faith, which is more precious than gold, our hope, which does not disappoint, and our love, which is stronger than sin and death, brings us closer to the Lord Jesus and prepares us for the eternal life ahead. Amen.

Homily for August 19, 2018 (20th Sunday B)

Listen to the Homily here

I may have mentioned, once or twice, my goddaughter. She is a little more than three and a half. A few weeks ago, when the calendars of a busy three-and-a-half-year-old child and a busy parish priest aligned, I met Madeline and her family at one of the newly constructed eateries near Charlotte. The family arrived first; they were seated and beginning to eat when I walked through the door of the restaurant. My goddaughter immediately got up from her chair, ran toward me cheerfully saying the closest and cutest approximation of Father Benjamin that she can muster, and jumped into my open arms. The joy in her eyes and the smile on her face were sharp contrasts to the angry and concerned eyes and disapproving looks of the other people seated in the restaurant. I saw their faces and I knew why they looked the way that they did: they were horrified and concerned to see a priest holding a child. I imagine that it will be that way for the rest of my life.

If there was any trust left after the scandals revealed in 2002, and if any trust had been rebuilt in the sixteen years since then, it is now gone. I am utterly horrified. I am ashamed. I am broken hearted. I am angry. I am disappointed. I am furious that consecrated men abused children and young people, that they abused their authority and the trust of their sacred office. I am horrified that predators were promoted rather than being punished. It’s tough to preach, and to pray.

But let us be clear: I and other faithful priests are not the victims here. We are, at best, collateral damage. The victims are the young people and children that were violated by those who should have protected them. The victims are those who were rejected and neglected by Church and legal systems. They are the ones who need our prayers and support. They are the ones who deserve our compassion, our consolation, and our care. Our eyes can never look away from those who are suffering, because to do so would be to take our eyes off of the Suffering Savior.

This is not a time of persecution: it is a season of purification. We as a Church must face the examination of conscience and the examination of conduct. This will not be pretty. The depths of depravity and dishonesty must be brought to the light. It will be painful. It will be disappointing and disheartening. But we pray that it will also be purifying and healing.

Knowledge and admission of sin and a desire to reform are the first steps on the path to holiness . . . and holiness is our only option. There is no path forward that does not involve a deeper commitment and a deeper relationship with Jesus Christ. We need an investigation and a review board and screenings and policies. Those must be part of the process, and they will be. But there is no abiding change, no change of heart or change of practice or change of behavior without a change of direction from the ways of the world to the way of the Lord Jesus. Holiness is our only answer. Holiness is our only path. Holiness is the only credible witness that can testify before the victims of abuse and the world. We have no choice. We must seek to be holy.

There is a great consolation in our long history. In the times of greatest disobedience and debauchery, in the days when faithfulness is cast aside, and sin is set up as the ideal, it is in those times when God raises up his greatest saints. I am consoled that in the face of these scandals the purifying fire of God’s justice will make way for the glorifying power of God’s holiness. God will raise up his saints. God will raise up his witnesses. The ever-faithful God remains ever faithful and ever merciful. That is our consolation and our challenge.

You see, it is from this room and from this community that God will raise up his saints. We will support each other on the way of holiness. As a priest, I cannot become holy without you. I am not a hermit, nor a monk. My path to holiness is not a cave in the desert nor a cell in a monastery; it is here, with you and for you. We walk the road to the Kingdom together. We struggle to be holy together. And together, with the trust and joy and expectation of a child of God, we run to the open arms of Jesus.

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

 

Homily for August 12, 2018 (19th Sunday B)

Listen to the Homily Here 

The women in my family bake things. They do many other things too, but they bake things. They bake many things. Recipes for cookies and pies and pound cakes are treasured and they are handed on as reservedly and reverently as bishops lay on hands. Actually, my grandmother protected the recipes a little more. I have been ordained twice and I never got the pound cake recipe!

Whenever I was getting ready to go back to school after a break, my grandmother would always make sure that I had plenty of food in the car for the ten hour drive to Philadelphia. There were homemade biscuits and sausage, wrapped in aluminum foil, in packs of two, so that I could easily eat them along the way. There were packs of crackers, water, and soda. There was a pound cake and sometimes two, baked in the shape of a loaf so it was easy for me to pack and easy to carry. It was a ten hour trip; I had enough food for ten days. My grandmother made sure that I had an abundance of food for the trip back. There was plenty of food for the journey.

It was different for Elijah, he was on the run from the queen and king who wanted to have him killed. Nobody packed a snack for Elijah. After a day on the journey he was tired, his was disheartened, he was hopeless and he was ready to give up. And he laid down and fell asleep beneath the shade of a tree. It was an angel that woke him up, with a hearth cake and a jug of water. The angel told him to eat, and Elijah ate, and then he went back to sleep. The angel woke him again and said, “Get up and eat, else the journey will be too long for you.” Elijah needed food for the journey and Lord provided through the voice of an angel.

Jesus promised food for the journey. The five thousand who were fed on the mountain side when the little boy shared his lunch with Jesus were given food for the journey. They had followed Jesus to that hillside and he fed them so that they could make the journey home. It was food for a day and the twelve wicker baskets were probably enough for the next day. It was abundant and sufficient; it was food for the journey. But now Jesus promised something more. On the side of the mountain, Jesus gave them food for the journey to Cana and Nazareth and Capernaum and Jerusalem. But now Jesus promises food for the journey to the house of his Father. I am the bread of life. I am the living bread that came down from heaven and whoever eats this bread will live forever. He promised to those who had eaten with him on the side of the mountain that he would give them more than simply the daily bread, but the bread of eternal life. Jesus promised them food for the journey to heaven.

And he promises it to you and to me.

Most of us remember with great joy and power the day of our first Communion. There might have been a white dress or a white suit. Maybe some family members made a journey to celebrate this part of your journey. You had prepared. You had learned your prayers. You had made the journey to meet Jesus in the bread of life. Like the disciples on the road to Emmaus, you were meeting Jesus in the breaking of the bread. As Jesus once did for his disciples on the side of the mountain and in the upper room, Jesus was breaking the bread for you.

And now months and years and decades have passed, and maybe the journey has been long, but Jesus still comes to feed you and me. As once we prepared to receive the Bread of Life, so now every time we receive the Bread of Life, we are being prepared to be received by the Lord Jesus on the day that the Father calls us unto himself.

Jesus is our food for the journey and he will lead us to that kingdom where he lives and reigns with the Father and the Holy Spirit, one God forever and ever. Amen.

Homily for July 29, 2018 (17th Sunday B)

 Listen to the Homily here in English and Spanish

On most Sundays there is a woman I see walking into the Church. It always surprises me a little. A few years ago the hospital chaplain called me and said, “Father, come quickly, we are certain the end is near.” And on that day a few years ago I gave the anointing of the sick, the apostolic pardon at the hour of death, and prayed the prayers for the dying over the same woman. I left the hospital and waited for a call about a funeral. A few weeks later she walked into the Church. It was a miracle and I got to be part of it.

There’s a baby I see on Sundays. He, like all babies, makes me smile. Some months ago, only hours after he was born, I baptized and later confirmed him in the NIC-U. They didn’t think he would survive. I left the hospital and waited for the dreaded phone call. That phone call never came and the baby comes to Church each week. It was a miracle and I got to be part of it.

Some of those miracles are dramatic and some are more private, like the person in the narthex who says, “I’ve been away from the Church and today I decided to come back.” It is a miracle and I got to be part of it.

It was a miracle and I got to be part of it. I wonder if that is what the young boy who gave his five loaves and two fish away told his mother at the end of the day. “Mom, it was amazing. There were five thousand people and there was no food and I shared my lunch with a man named Jesus and we had so much food left over. It was a miracle and I got to be part of it.”

When you think about it, the little boy was more than just part of that miracle. If the little boy does not share his lunch with Jesus, the feeding of the five thousand does not happen. If Andrew does not notice the little boy who offers to share his five loaves and two fish, the miracle of the feeding of the five thousand does not happen. If Philip does not recognize the need for so much food on the side of the mountain, then the miracle of the feeding of the five thousand does not happen. And if the crowd had not followed Jesus across the Sea of Galilee, then the miracle of the feeding of the five thousand does not happen. It was a miracle. And the little boy and Andrew and Philip and the other disciples and each of the people in the crowd were part of it.

They each got to be part of one of the miracles of Jesus. They each got to see the Lord Jesus take the bread and give thanks and give it to those who were hungry. They each got to hear the words, “Gather the fragments, so that none will be wasted.” They each got to see the twelve wicker baskets filled with the abundance of bread from the five loaves that were placed in the hands of Jesus. They each got to be part of the miracle. Jesus wanted each of them to have a part in his miracle. The little boy and Philip and Andrew and the disciples and each person in the crowd were part of the miracle of Jesus.

And so are we. 

Jesus wants you and Jesus wants me to be part of the miracles that he is doing. Jesus invites you and Jesus invites me to be part of the miracles that he is doing. You might be like Philip and you recognize what the need is and what will be needed. You might be like Andrew and have the eyes to see the gifts in the life of child and bring that child in prayer to the Lord Jesus. You might be like the little boy who was willing to share the food that he had with those who had no food. You might make the wicker baskets and gather the fragments. And we each are part of the crowd as we are fed by the hand of the Lord Jesus.

And now, as he once did for his disciples and for the little boy and for the five thousand on the hillside, Jesus Christ feeds you and me.

It’s a miracle and we get to be part of it. Amen.