God on the Seaward Road

(Third Sunday in Ordinary Time-Year A; This homily was given on January 26, 2020 in Primavalle-Rome, Italy; See Isaiah 8:23-9:3 and Matthew 4: 12-23)

In the terminology of the International organisations, it is called “forced migration.”  It is what happens when there is a conflict or war, and millions of people suffer.  People who are not soldiers, not directly involved in the conflict, are “in the way” and are forced to make a choice.  Either they move or they die.  Often, with only the clothes on their back and whatever they can carry in their hands (which is often their smallest child), they leave their home and seek a safer place.  

Recent figures indicate that there are over 70 million forced migrants in the world today.  Half of them come from one of three countries: Afghanistan, South Sudan or Syria.  Some 40 million are “internally displaced persons” or IDPs.  They have fled their home but remain in the same country.   Their future is far from secure.  Another 25 million persons are refugees, people that have fled their own country and are seeking refuge in a foreign land, where they have no citizenship, no resources and very little hope.  Millions of others are trafficked, collateral damage in the world of conflict and war.  

Pope Francis has taken a deep, personal interest in the care of these vulnerable people.  There is an entire section in the Vatican’s Dicastery for Promoting Integral Human Development dedicated to assisting refugees and migrants.  The sisters in your community here in this city, and in places all across the world, also devote tremendous care and resources to meet the basic needs of these persons who often have nowhere else to turn.  You bring God into the lives of these vulnerable people, and where there is God there is hope.

In the Scriptures this weekend, we listen to the tragic story of forced migration in the Book of the Prophet Isaiah and in the Gospel of St. Matthew.  We hear about the “land of Zebulun and of Naphtali.”  These two tribes of Israel were located in the far northwest region of the nation, which means they were on the border.  They were much more vulnerable to attack than the interior tribes.  

In the 8th century before the birth of Christ, the major superpower of that part of the world was Assyria.  Over the course of several years they had invaded, destroyed and conquered the land of Zebulun and the land of Naphtali. Thousands of people were carried away into exile, enslaved in Assyria, never to return home again.   Furthermore, the Assyrians sent thousands of their own people into Zebulun and Naphtali, to colonise that place and erase its former identity.  The phrase “Galilee of the Gentiles” was not a positive one, but a term of scorn and derision.  

By the time of Christ, the people of Israel were well aware of the tragic fate of Zebulun and Naphtali.  It was a dark place on the face of the earth, a place that many would have considered forsaken.  But Isaiah reminds the people of God that they have NOT been forgotten!  This land is NOT forsaken.  The Messiah would walk into the middle of that place and shine the light of hope on all humanity.  Isaiah prophesied:

First the Lord degraded the land of Zebulun and the land of Naphtali: but in the end he has glorified the seaward road, the land west of the Jordan, the District of the Gentiles.  Anguish has taken wing, dispelled is darkness: for there is no gloom where but now there was distress.  The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; upon those who dwelt in the land of gloom a light has shone.

—Isaiah 8:23-9:3

St. Matthew proclaims that Jesus “went to live in Capernaum by the sea, in the region of Zebulun and Naphtali, that what had been said through Isaiah the prophet might be FULFILLED” (Matthew 4:13-14).  It is there in the “land of gloom” that Jesus will call His first Apostles, whom He will send out to the furthest reaches of the word to spread the light of the Gospel of salvation.  God has indeed “gloried the seaward road”!  

The spiritual principle we find at work in the readings this weekend teaches us that God can—and often does—work in the most painful places; He is capable of shining His light into the darkness of our world in every age.  The miracle of grace that happened in the first century with the coming of Christ continues to work in the world through His body, the Church.  

In the 5th century, as the Christian faith continued to spread throughout the world, a young man named Patrick was living in Britain.  When he was only 16 years old, the village where he resided was attacked by marauders and Patrick was carried off to Ireland and forced to work as a shepherd.  There, tending the flocks alone day after day, he began to remember the Catholic faith that he had been taught as a child but never completely followed.  He remembered the exhortations to always be prepared for the day of salvation, to follow the commandments, to pray and worship God.  

The light of faith was there enkindled in the heart of that young man, and he began to devote many hours each day to prayer.  And so it was that Patrick was attentive to the voice of God within his soul.  One evening, he recalls in his spiritual testimony or Confessio, he heard the Lord say to him, “Your ship is ready.”  It seemed quite strange to Patrick, because he was hundreds of miles from the shore!  Nonetheless, he heard the voice again, “Your ship is ready.”  Motivated by faith, he escaped from captivity and made his way to the sea.  As he arrived to that place, never having been there before, there was a ship leaving the port for Britain!  Patrick was carried back home and was eventually reunited with his family.

Several years after his return, however, Patrick heard another voice.  This time it was not the voice of God, but the “voice of the Irish,” and he relates the words he heard deep within his soul: “We beseech thee, holy young man, to come and walk among us once again.”  He writes how his heart was broken and he was moved with great love, choosing then to return to Ireland as a missionary and to proclaim the Catholic faith to them.  St. Patrick, as we know, is the patron saint of Ireland.  In him, too, did God glorify “the seaward road.”  

Where is God calling us to be more attentive to His voice in our lives at this time?  Where is He calling us, along “the seaward road,” in those places where there is darkness, sadness and gloom?  Where are the “forsaken” present among us, in need of the Good News of Jesus Christ and the redemptive power of God’s grace?  The Missionaries of Charity are founded on this very reality.  God spoke to St. Teresa of Calcutta, asking her to, “Come, be my light.”  He called her to carry His light to those who were suffering in the darkness.  May we all continue to respond to that call, to be sent by Christ to dispel the darkness and to be His light in every part of this world.

The Light of Christmas

(Second Sunday after Christmas-Year A; This homily was given on January 5, 2020 at the Church of Santo Spirito in Sassia in Rome, Italy; See Ephesians 1:3-18 and John 1: 1-18)

There is a hospital in the smallest state of the United States (Rhode Island) that is a really big deal for a lot of very small reasons.  It is called the Hasbro Children’s Hospital, located in Providence, Rhode Island, and it provides health care for thousands of young people each year.  While many of the children in that place are there for a short visit, struggling with the flu or some other temporary illness, others are fighting a much more difficult battle.  With that said, there are also many medical professionals, chaplains and volunteers who bring hope and healing to those very special young people.

One day, volunteer Steve Rosnihan noticed that he could see his bus stop from the window of an upper floor in Hasbro Children’s Hospital.   At the end of each day at the hospital, he would pedal his bike a short distance away, and then place it on the bus, riding public transit the rest of the way home.  He told some of the children at the hospital to look out to the bus stop at 8:30pm, and at that time he began to flash the lamp on the front of his bicycle.  The children delighted in this simple message of care and support.  Seeing their reaction, he began to tell others nearby about the light for the children.  Businesses, too, began to flash their lights at 8:30pm.  Quickly word began to spread, and before long nearby Brown University also flashed massive LED lights each evening.  The local East Providence Police Department started to line up any available cruisers once a week across the river, and at 8:30pm they would flash their overhead lights.  By this time, all of the children at Hasbro eagerly anticipated that 8:30pm “magic minute.”  The children soon began using flashlights, signalling back a message of their own: We see you, we appreciate your care and support for us.  Thank you. The tradition has come to be known as “Good Night Lights,” and it has had quite a powerful impact on that local community and the lives of thousands of children.

In many ways, if we look at Sacred Scripture and the teachings of our faith, humanity is like a sick child.  We were created by God for community and love, to be generous and kind to those around us; to live in harmony with the rest of creation, what Pope Francis refers to affectionately as “our common home”; we were created to be in communion with God, to adore and serve Him with all of our heart, mind and soul.  That vision for all God’s children has been shattered by sin.  We all experience its effects deep within our souls, in our relationships and also in the way we relate—or fail to relate—with God.  

It is during the season of Advent, and especially in the celebration of Christmas, that we see God breaking through to bring healing and new life to fallen humanity once again.  During Advent, we saw how God’s messenger of light, the Angel Gabriel, was sent to Zechariah with the news that he and his wife, Elizabeth, would have a child who would be the forerunner of the Christ.  The same angel is sent to the Blessed Virgin Mary to announce, “Behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus (Luke 1:31).”    An angel appears in a dream to St. Joseph, directing him to protect and watch over the child and his mother.  In their response to these illuminating messages, the holy people of God shine that light of faith back to God: We hear You, we will do what You are asking.  Fiat.

When Christ is born in Bethlehem, we are told that there were shepherds tending their flocks at night when suddenly, “an angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were filled with fear” (Luke 2:9).  The night sky had never seen such a brilliant illumination.  Moments later the entire sky was filled with an entire host of angels, singing “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to those on whom his favour rests” (Luke 2:14).  The heavens are lit up with the saving message of God and His presence here among us!

And so it is that we come to this celebration here this morning, rejoicing in the Incarnation, the light of Jesus Christ, God made flesh.  We prayed at the beginning of this Mass, in the Collect, the opening prayer that “collects” the people of God around the altar of sacrifice:

Almighty ever-living God, splendour of faithful souls, graciously be pleased to fill the world with your glory, and show yourself to all peoples by the radiance of your light.

God has come into the world to bring healing and hope once again, and to flood with radiance this place so often obscured by darkness.  He has come to bathe us in His own wonderful light.   As St. John the Evangelist describes it in the Gospel this morning:

What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people.  The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.

—John 1:4-5

God does not merely shine a light into the world, He comes into the world literally in the person of Jesus Christ.  He is Himself the light and has come to dwell in us by the power of the Holy Spirit.  This is the great message of hope for the world, so often beset by darkness; it is the message of light that we are called to carry to those who long to see it.  We can listen to St. Paul’s prayer for us this morning, and ask if we are fully allowing God to answer that prayer in us:

I pray that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, may give you a spirit of wisdom and revelation as you come to know him, so that, with the eyes of your heart enlightened, you may know what is the hope to which he has called you, what are the riches of his glorious inheritance among the saints.

—Ephesians 1:17-18

a spirit of wisdom and revelation as you come to know him . . .

 Can any of us here this morning truly say that we are already in full possession of wisdom and that we have come to know God fully in our lives?  Is there not much more room in each of our lives to grow in wisdom and knowledge of God, to discover His infinite love more deeply in our personal lives and in the life of the Church? St. Paul prays that the “eyes of your heart” be “enlightened,” that the light of God would illumine our vision and broaden our hearts to love Him and those around us more completely.  What are the ways in which God is calling us to experience that enlightenment this year?

Certainly, we can come to know God more deeply and intimately in prayer.  In that silent conversation with God, when we are willing to set aside time each day to be alone with Him, we can come to know God, experience His presence and power in our lives.  This is something we can all surrender ourselves to more generously in this coming year. 

We can discover God more completely and have the eyes of our heart enlightened in the Sacraments.  Here in the Eucharist we come to know God in an intimate and life-giving way.  In Eucharistic adoration, we come to know and love Him, to believe more firmly in Him, to hope in Him more completely.  In the Sacrament of Reconciliation, we come to know the merciful love of God, to experience the healing of our soul that restores our relationship with God and each other.  Could we ever know the depths of that mercy enough or receive that healing consolation and absolution too much?

God is waiting for us to discover His unfathomable mercy and a deeper knowledge of Him as He continues to fill this world with His glory and show Himself to all peoples by the radiance of His light. If we are open to that gift and ready to respond—like Zechariah and Elizabeth, like St. John the Baptist, like the Blessed Virgin Mary and St. Joseph—if we allow God to enlighten the eyes of our heart and if we are willing to respond with faith in the midst of our own specific circumstances of life, we will be available to accomplish much for the Church and for the world. If we surrender to the power of God, shining in and through us in this coming year, then we will discover, with St. John the Evangelist: The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness WILL NEVER overcome it (John 1:4-5).