Monday, VII Easter
(Acts 19)
Talking with a few young men recently, I asked them if they knew who Pete Seeger was. They answered like the disciples in the reading from the Acts of the Apostles. They said something like that they had never even heard of Pete Seeger.
As edifying as it is to have heard Pete Seeger in concert, the experience can hardly be compared to having the Holy Spirit. The Spirit makes us children of God. We perhaps can say that the Spirit makes us God-like. We are peaceful, united and above all loving because of the Holy Spirit.
Is it necessary that we know about the Holy Spirit? Or is it enough that we have Him? Of course, discursive knowledge is not as crucial as having the Holy Spirit. However, knowing who the Spirit is and what He can do for us should help our appreciation of Him. The more we reflect on this greatest of gift, the more ways we might put it to use for everyone’s benefit. It’s like Shakespeare’s Hamlet. The more we reflect on it, the more we know ourselves and the world around us.
Homilette for Saturday, May 19, 2007
Saturday, VI Week
(John 16)
“We walk by faith and not by sight no gracious words we hear.” This popular hymn of not many years ago may leave us with a touch of nostalgia. “If only I could have seen him and heard him,” we may chide ourselves, “then I would not doubt at all.”
Of course, it would have been a privilege to know Jesus in the flesh. But he is telling us in the gospel today that we are better off to know him in the Spirit. In the flesh he needs to use “figures of speech” to help his disciples understand. In the Spirit he enlightens our minds from within. In the flesh he tells his disciples that he is the vine and we are the branches. In the Spirit he feeds us the Eucharist so that we have his life within us. In the flesh he is beyond the disciples' comprehension. (“Show us the Father and that will be enough for us,” the confused Philip tells Jesus) and so ask nothing in his name. In the Spirit he moves us "through Jesus Christ our Lord."
We are challenged to believe in a society where people openly express both doubt and denial. However, we can hear and take to heart the word of God in ways unknown to our grandparents. As much as ever Jesus’ Spirit is working within us to bolster our faith.
(John 16)
“We walk by faith and not by sight no gracious words we hear.” This popular hymn of not many years ago may leave us with a touch of nostalgia. “If only I could have seen him and heard him,” we may chide ourselves, “then I would not doubt at all.”
Of course, it would have been a privilege to know Jesus in the flesh. But he is telling us in the gospel today that we are better off to know him in the Spirit. In the flesh he needs to use “figures of speech” to help his disciples understand. In the Spirit he enlightens our minds from within. In the flesh he tells his disciples that he is the vine and we are the branches. In the Spirit he feeds us the Eucharist so that we have his life within us. In the flesh he is beyond the disciples' comprehension. (“Show us the Father and that will be enough for us,” the confused Philip tells Jesus) and so ask nothing in his name. In the Spirit he moves us "through Jesus Christ our Lord."
We are challenged to believe in a society where people openly express both doubt and denial. However, we can hear and take to heart the word of God in ways unknown to our grandparents. As much as ever Jesus’ Spirit is working within us to bolster our faith.
Homilette for Friday, May 18, 2007
Friday, VI Week
(John 16)
Betty Friedan, the great American feminist, used to dimay many of her colleagues. After campaigning for women’s equality in work and society, she seemed to back-pedal a bit. In interviews during her later years, the author of The Feminine Mystique spoke about the happiness of raising children.
In the gospel Jesus digs to the primal experience beneath raising children. He tells of a mother’s joy in giving birth to a child. Today we would not want to exclude the father’s participation in that satisfaction. In giving birth parents contribute to the great chain of life. They not only experience a sense of solidarity with all humanity but also realize a great personal achievement. Their genetic material – what used to be called blood-line – is handed on. It is an assurance that they will not be totally obliterated in time. Rather, something of their being is preserved for future ages.
Of course, Jesus is only making a comparison when he speaks of a mother giving birth. He means to say that like a mother giving birth, his disciples will rejoice after being disillusioned with his rising from the dead after being crucified. We should see more here than a turn about from intense pain to uncontainable joy. We need to observe a reasoning similar to that beneath the joy of giving birth: the one on whom the disciples have latched their hopes for everlasting life has delivered. Better than handing their genetic material on, they themselves will have achieved everlasting life.
(John 16)
Betty Friedan, the great American feminist, used to dimay many of her colleagues. After campaigning for women’s equality in work and society, she seemed to back-pedal a bit. In interviews during her later years, the author of The Feminine Mystique spoke about the happiness of raising children.
In the gospel Jesus digs to the primal experience beneath raising children. He tells of a mother’s joy in giving birth to a child. Today we would not want to exclude the father’s participation in that satisfaction. In giving birth parents contribute to the great chain of life. They not only experience a sense of solidarity with all humanity but also realize a great personal achievement. Their genetic material – what used to be called blood-line – is handed on. It is an assurance that they will not be totally obliterated in time. Rather, something of their being is preserved for future ages.
Of course, Jesus is only making a comparison when he speaks of a mother giving birth. He means to say that like a mother giving birth, his disciples will rejoice after being disillusioned with his rising from the dead after being crucified. We should see more here than a turn about from intense pain to uncontainable joy. We need to observe a reasoning similar to that beneath the joy of giving birth: the one on whom the disciples have latched their hopes for everlasting life has delivered. Better than handing their genetic material on, they themselves will have achieved everlasting life.
Homilette for Thursday, May 17, 2007
Thursday, VI Week
(Acts 18)
It is said that Paul’s being a tentmaker both helps him and restricts him. Of course, it gives him an income so that he isn’t dependent on anyone for his bread. More importantly, working in a tentmaker’s shop – like he does with Aquila in the reading – provides him a place to meet people. We can readily imagine that Paul would move any conversation with customers to his favorite topic, the Lord Jesus. The downside of being a tentmaker is that it identifies Paul as a laborer whom the upper class tends to look down on. He needs a rich patron to provide an ample house for the meeting of all interested in worshipping Christ. Fortunately, Paul always seems to make the right connection.
We who have fine churches in which to pray may snub our noses at the Evangelical Christians who pray in store fronts or in individual homes today. It is instructive to remember that Christianity has such simple people and humble dwellings at its origins. Furthermore, we should accept evangelical Christians as brothers and sisters in Christ. It is probably true that they often criticize Catholicism for our devotions and customs. But there is certainly plenty of room for dialogue with these people – above all, on our common love for Jesus.
The Catholic commentator George Weigel wrote in his syndicated column last week that Protestant Evangelicals in Latin America are not the real enemies of the Church. More threatening are the secularists who even in Latin America are claiming the right to abort a baby and the right for homosexuals to marry. These ideas stand in radical opposition to the Church’s Gospel of life.
(Acts 18)
It is said that Paul’s being a tentmaker both helps him and restricts him. Of course, it gives him an income so that he isn’t dependent on anyone for his bread. More importantly, working in a tentmaker’s shop – like he does with Aquila in the reading – provides him a place to meet people. We can readily imagine that Paul would move any conversation with customers to his favorite topic, the Lord Jesus. The downside of being a tentmaker is that it identifies Paul as a laborer whom the upper class tends to look down on. He needs a rich patron to provide an ample house for the meeting of all interested in worshipping Christ. Fortunately, Paul always seems to make the right connection.
We who have fine churches in which to pray may snub our noses at the Evangelical Christians who pray in store fronts or in individual homes today. It is instructive to remember that Christianity has such simple people and humble dwellings at its origins. Furthermore, we should accept evangelical Christians as brothers and sisters in Christ. It is probably true that they often criticize Catholicism for our devotions and customs. But there is certainly plenty of room for dialogue with these people – above all, on our common love for Jesus.
The Catholic commentator George Weigel wrote in his syndicated column last week that Protestant Evangelicals in Latin America are not the real enemies of the Church. More threatening are the secularists who even in Latin America are claiming the right to abort a baby and the right for homosexuals to marry. These ideas stand in radical opposition to the Church’s Gospel of life.
Homilette for Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Wednesday, VI Week
(Acts 17)
Jerome Murphy-O’Connor may be the greatest living Dominican Scripture scholar. He is also one of the world’s experts on Paul, the Apostle. A few years ago he published a book which he called Paul: His Story. The work tries to fill in the gaps about the life of Paul from what is suggested in the letters of Paul, from the Acts of the Apostles, and from what is known about the geography and history of Paul’s time. Fr. Murphy-O’Connor distinguishes his “story” from historical fiction because he does not try to put words into Paul’s mouth. Rather, he surmises what Paul must have felt and thought when, for example, he had the vision – recorded in Acts -- of first being invited to preach in Europe by the Macedonian.
We might pursue Murphy-O’Connor’s method in considering the reading from Acts today. Some of us have had the fortune of visiting Athens and seeing the Parthenon. All of us have seen pictures of the majestic buildings that represent beauty and wisdom. Of course, Paul is speaking at the Aereopagus, but that place – wherever it is -- likely inspires the same sense of high culture. We can see Paul clearing his throat preparing to use all his rhetorical power and logic to move his sophisticated audience. And the result is catastrophic! Not only do the people not respond favorably; they laugh at Paul. They dismiss him saying in effect, “That’s interesting, but tell us about it at another time.”
But Paul seems to have made one convert -- himself. He will never preach so pretentiously again. When he preaches to the Corinthians, according to his first letter to them, he doesn’t use any sophisticated language. No, he only presents to them Christ crucified which is enough, however, to convince them. Is it enough for us? Can we accept the crucified as our Lord and God? Perhaps it sounds only romantic to do so. But let’s try to be real about the consequences of accepting the crucified Lord. It means standing ready to suffer injury for his sake so that we might experience the glory of his resurrection. Is it enough for us?
(Acts 17)
Jerome Murphy-O’Connor may be the greatest living Dominican Scripture scholar. He is also one of the world’s experts on Paul, the Apostle. A few years ago he published a book which he called Paul: His Story. The work tries to fill in the gaps about the life of Paul from what is suggested in the letters of Paul, from the Acts of the Apostles, and from what is known about the geography and history of Paul’s time. Fr. Murphy-O’Connor distinguishes his “story” from historical fiction because he does not try to put words into Paul’s mouth. Rather, he surmises what Paul must have felt and thought when, for example, he had the vision – recorded in Acts -- of first being invited to preach in Europe by the Macedonian.
We might pursue Murphy-O’Connor’s method in considering the reading from Acts today. Some of us have had the fortune of visiting Athens and seeing the Parthenon. All of us have seen pictures of the majestic buildings that represent beauty and wisdom. Of course, Paul is speaking at the Aereopagus, but that place – wherever it is -- likely inspires the same sense of high culture. We can see Paul clearing his throat preparing to use all his rhetorical power and logic to move his sophisticated audience. And the result is catastrophic! Not only do the people not respond favorably; they laugh at Paul. They dismiss him saying in effect, “That’s interesting, but tell us about it at another time.”
But Paul seems to have made one convert -- himself. He will never preach so pretentiously again. When he preaches to the Corinthians, according to his first letter to them, he doesn’t use any sophisticated language. No, he only presents to them Christ crucified which is enough, however, to convince them. Is it enough for us? Can we accept the crucified as our Lord and God? Perhaps it sounds only romantic to do so. But let’s try to be real about the consequences of accepting the crucified Lord. It means standing ready to suffer injury for his sake so that we might experience the glory of his resurrection. Is it enough for us?
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)