Thursday of the Fifth Week of Easter
(Acts 15:7-21)
Many years ago Cardinal Avery Dulles wrote an instructive book titled Models of the Church. The work answers the question, what is the Church? Is it an institution with organizational offices and a clear line of authority? Or is it a messenger announcing the divine offer of salvation? Or perhaps it is a servant of the world caring for the weak and instructing the powers? Maybe it is a sacrament, a sign of God’s ongoing presence among humans?
Although Cardinal Dulles indicates a preference for the sacramental model since it suggests a spiritual core, he concludes that the Church encompasses all the given models. Without having an institutional structure, the Church could not address issues that arise. Without preaching the Good News, the Church would not fulfill the mission given her by Christ. Without caring for the poor, the Church would not practice what she preaches. And without representing Christ in the world, the Church would not be his Body.
People sometimes wince at Church bureaucracy wondering if Christ intended all the pomp. The regalia of bishops and monsignors is not necessary, but order is essential. We see the order functioning in the first reading from Acts today. Peter, the head apostle, speaks first to the issue of Gentiles’ following the Jewish Law. Then James, the chief elder of the Jerusalem flock, presents his view. Finally, the reading indicates, all Apostles and community leaders decide the matter. Today’s system of pope and curia with dioceses and religious institutions represents a significant evolution of structure. But we can be assured that the Church has always had and will always need to be a visible institution.
Homilette for Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Wednesday of the Fifth Week of Lent
(John 15:1-8)
Few people want to suffer. Suffering is unnatural and evil. Our bodies revolt at the proximity of pain. There are, no doubt, one or two who seek suffering per se. We term this behavior masochism and rightly see it as abnormal and harmful. Yet suffering may be accepted for a concomitant good. A cancer patient undergoes chemotherapy for this reason. Even when the benefit sought is not self-evident as the decrease in the size of a tumor or the amputation of a leg to save a life, suffering may occasion a benefit. Cardinal Avery Dulles, one of the Church’s great theologians, is suffering from increasing paralysis of limbs and mouth. He does not rail against the trouble. Rather he says, paraphrasing St. Paul, “I know that (Christ’s) power can be made perfect in infirmity.”
In today’s gospel Jesus indicates how suffering can lead to a positive outcome. He tells his disciples that the Father prunes productive branches so that they might yield more fruit. Of course, his metaphorical language describes the good that Christians do with the help of divine grace. Pruning is the invasive cutting back of superfluous branches that makes the remaining ones heartier. It implies suffering, but the end result obliterates suffering’s evil dimensions. Like the case of Cardinal Dulles, Christ’s power is being perfected.
All of us suffer slight setbacks if not major traumas. Perhaps our best efforts are criticized as unworthy or an illness causes us to miss an opportunity we have been counting on. Perhaps a close friend has died or we cannot afford central air-conditioning in hundred degree heat. Rather than consider these conditions as bad luck, punishment for past wrongs, or the triumph of evil, we should think of them for what they likely are – God’s pruning us of excess so that we might render more abundant fruit.
(John 15:1-8)
Few people want to suffer. Suffering is unnatural and evil. Our bodies revolt at the proximity of pain. There are, no doubt, one or two who seek suffering per se. We term this behavior masochism and rightly see it as abnormal and harmful. Yet suffering may be accepted for a concomitant good. A cancer patient undergoes chemotherapy for this reason. Even when the benefit sought is not self-evident as the decrease in the size of a tumor or the amputation of a leg to save a life, suffering may occasion a benefit. Cardinal Avery Dulles, one of the Church’s great theologians, is suffering from increasing paralysis of limbs and mouth. He does not rail against the trouble. Rather he says, paraphrasing St. Paul, “I know that (Christ’s) power can be made perfect in infirmity.”
In today’s gospel Jesus indicates how suffering can lead to a positive outcome. He tells his disciples that the Father prunes productive branches so that they might yield more fruit. Of course, his metaphorical language describes the good that Christians do with the help of divine grace. Pruning is the invasive cutting back of superfluous branches that makes the remaining ones heartier. It implies suffering, but the end result obliterates suffering’s evil dimensions. Like the case of Cardinal Dulles, Christ’s power is being perfected.
All of us suffer slight setbacks if not major traumas. Perhaps our best efforts are criticized as unworthy or an illness causes us to miss an opportunity we have been counting on. Perhaps a close friend has died or we cannot afford central air-conditioning in hundred degree heat. Rather than consider these conditions as bad luck, punishment for past wrongs, or the triumph of evil, we should think of them for what they likely are – God’s pruning us of excess so that we might render more abundant fruit.
Homilette for Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Tuesday of the Fifth Week of Easter
(John 14:27-31)
Jesus says that his peace is different from that which the world gives. Does he mean that our concept of peace – universal cooperation – is theoretically faulty. No, when we work together to produce a society where each person may live with dignity, our peace approaches Jesus’ own.
Jesus’ peace is full reconciliation with the Father so that people might love one another. To win this reconciliation he must go to the Father through the cross and resurrection. For this reason, he asks his followers not to be troubled. But what has this to do with the peace that we seek?
Many people in the United States are protesting for peace in Iraq. They mean that the United States should withdraw its forces. They are quite aware that withdrawal will add to the bloodshed. But they would argue that hostility in Iraq is a given with or without American presence and that the presence of U.S. military just prolongs the violence.
How Jesus would respond to this argument is hard to say. For this reason, people should not appeal to him to clinch their argument. But we can say that Jesus wants all sides to dialogue, and not abuse one another, over their differences. He would seek as much compromise as truth allows. Finally, he would have the opposing sides of the argument stand in vigilance that the terms of disengagement be implemented. The world seldom pursues such a journey to peace, but Jesus asks us, his followers, to promote it.
(John 14:27-31)
Jesus says that his peace is different from that which the world gives. Does he mean that our concept of peace – universal cooperation – is theoretically faulty. No, when we work together to produce a society where each person may live with dignity, our peace approaches Jesus’ own.
Jesus’ peace is full reconciliation with the Father so that people might love one another. To win this reconciliation he must go to the Father through the cross and resurrection. For this reason, he asks his followers not to be troubled. But what has this to do with the peace that we seek?
Many people in the United States are protesting for peace in Iraq. They mean that the United States should withdraw its forces. They are quite aware that withdrawal will add to the bloodshed. But they would argue that hostility in Iraq is a given with or without American presence and that the presence of U.S. military just prolongs the violence.
How Jesus would respond to this argument is hard to say. For this reason, people should not appeal to him to clinch their argument. But we can say that Jesus wants all sides to dialogue, and not abuse one another, over their differences. He would seek as much compromise as truth allows. Finally, he would have the opposing sides of the argument stand in vigilance that the terms of disengagement be implemented. The world seldom pursues such a journey to peace, but Jesus asks us, his followers, to promote it.
Homilette for Monday, April 21, 2008
Monday of the Fifth Week of Ordinary Time
(John 14:21-26)
“’Heart of my heart’ meant friends were dearer then.” This is a line from an old song that we may still hear in barbershop quartet ensembles. Is it true? Were friends dearer, was life better, back then? Or is this kind of talk just nostalgia? Does time purify our memories of the rancor and bitterness of life without bachelor apartments, personal computers, and cellular telephones?
In the gospel Jesus promises that he and his Father will make a dwelling place with those who keep his word. His word, of course, is the commandment to love one another as he loves us. We find an answer to our question here. As much as friends truly loved one another back then, times were better. I suppose that many people really did love better when they were not so independent. All the conveniences at our disposal now tend to make us think more of ourselves than of one another.
Then what are we to do? Should we dump our computers and cell phones and move back to our parents’ home? Perhaps some simplifying of lifestyle is in order. But more helpful might be the formation of small groups or communities dedicated to spiritual reflection. One writer claims that he has lunched with the same three men every Friday for twenty-five years. They listen to one another explain how each has met Christ in study, prayer, and fellow humans during the past week. Could there be any doubt that these men grow in love for Christ and for one another?
(John 14:21-26)
“’Heart of my heart’ meant friends were dearer then.” This is a line from an old song that we may still hear in barbershop quartet ensembles. Is it true? Were friends dearer, was life better, back then? Or is this kind of talk just nostalgia? Does time purify our memories of the rancor and bitterness of life without bachelor apartments, personal computers, and cellular telephones?
In the gospel Jesus promises that he and his Father will make a dwelling place with those who keep his word. His word, of course, is the commandment to love one another as he loves us. We find an answer to our question here. As much as friends truly loved one another back then, times were better. I suppose that many people really did love better when they were not so independent. All the conveniences at our disposal now tend to make us think more of ourselves than of one another.
Then what are we to do? Should we dump our computers and cell phones and move back to our parents’ home? Perhaps some simplifying of lifestyle is in order. But more helpful might be the formation of small groups or communities dedicated to spiritual reflection. One writer claims that he has lunched with the same three men every Friday for twenty-five years. They listen to one another explain how each has met Christ in study, prayer, and fellow humans during the past week. Could there be any doubt that these men grow in love for Christ and for one another?
Homilette for Friday, April 18, 2008
Friday of the Fourth Week of Easter
(John 14:1-6)
A university co-ed told her roommates in the middle of a blizzard that her father was coming to pick her up. “How could you be so sure?” the roommates marveled, “It’s impossible driving outside.” “Because he said so,” the young woman only replied. In the gospel today Jesus means to instill such confidence in his disciples.
The passage is taken from the beginning of the second part of John’s gospel, the so-called Book of Signs. Jesus is giving a kind of farewell speech to his disciples among whom we should see ourselves. He does not want us to worry that he is leaving or has left us. Rather, we should trust in him. “Why?” we may ask, with the same uncertainty as Thomas displays in the passage. He answers: because “I am the way and the truth and the life.” Jesus is the way, the one whose imitation will bring us to God. He is the truth whose words we can rely on because he knows the Father. And he is the life of which we partake in the Eucharist for strength on the journey.
We sometimes find ourselves in bleak situations. Perhaps we face job termination, mortgage foreclosure, or even terminal disease. We are not to cower but to be confident. Jesus sublimely demonstrates this trust on the cross. In John’s crucifixion Jesus reigns like a king over his court. He has drawn the whole world – friends, foes, even the Roman governor to the scene. He completes his work on earth by instituting the church with his mother and beloved disciple. And he dies when he is ready. We can face our trials with the same tranquility of spirit.
(John 14:1-6)
A university co-ed told her roommates in the middle of a blizzard that her father was coming to pick her up. “How could you be so sure?” the roommates marveled, “It’s impossible driving outside.” “Because he said so,” the young woman only replied. In the gospel today Jesus means to instill such confidence in his disciples.
The passage is taken from the beginning of the second part of John’s gospel, the so-called Book of Signs. Jesus is giving a kind of farewell speech to his disciples among whom we should see ourselves. He does not want us to worry that he is leaving or has left us. Rather, we should trust in him. “Why?” we may ask, with the same uncertainty as Thomas displays in the passage. He answers: because “I am the way and the truth and the life.” Jesus is the way, the one whose imitation will bring us to God. He is the truth whose words we can rely on because he knows the Father. And he is the life of which we partake in the Eucharist for strength on the journey.
We sometimes find ourselves in bleak situations. Perhaps we face job termination, mortgage foreclosure, or even terminal disease. We are not to cower but to be confident. Jesus sublimely demonstrates this trust on the cross. In John’s crucifixion Jesus reigns like a king over his court. He has drawn the whole world – friends, foes, even the Roman governor to the scene. He completes his work on earth by instituting the church with his mother and beloved disciple. And he dies when he is ready. We can face our trials with the same tranquility of spirit.
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