Faith Over Fear

(Twelfth Sunday in Ordinary Time-Year A; This homily was given on June 21, 2020 at San Gregorio Magno al Celio in Rome, Italy; See Jeremiah 20:10-13 and Matthew 10:26-23)

Our readings for this weekend are about faith and trust in the face of fear.  There is much, it seems, for Jeremiah to fear in the first reading.  He has heard the whispering and murmuring of those he had once been quite close to.  “Terror on every side!  Denounce!  Let us denounce him!”, they cry (Jeremiah 20:10).  Of course, we know that not long after this initial hostility, Jeremiah will be threatened, mistreated, imprisoned and thrown into a cistern!  He has every reason to fear, but instead he chooses to trust and have faith:

For to you I have entrusted my cause.  Sing to the Lord, praise the Lord, for he has rescued the life of the poor from the power of the wicked!

—Jeremiah 20:12-13

The Gospel foretells similar woes for the Apostles, yet Christ urges them, “Fear no one” (Matthew 10:26).  While He will go on to speak of “those who kill the body,” the exact context at the beginning of the Gospel for this weekend is a continuation of the earlier reference He has made to calumny.  He had said to them, “If they have called the master of the house Beelzebul, how much more will they malign those of his household” (Matthew 10:25).  This weekend He  begins by exhorting the Apostles not to fear those who maliciously lie with the intent of causing harm, either to one’s reputation or to one’s physical life.  

These are very challenging readings and they make a strong appeal to faith and trust in God.

Listening to these readings this morning, the person of Cardinal George Pell easily comes to mind.  Like Jeremiah, he also was denounced by calumnious voices set only on his demise.  Unjustly accused, he was convicted in a court of law and imprisoned.  By the grace of God, the truth prevailed and he was exonerated, but not before undergoing an ordeal that would require tremendous faith and trust in the promises of Christ.  

Focusing only on the element of fear, one could be tempted to live one’s faith in Christ a bit more, well, "carefully."  Perhaps it would be better, based upon these events, to not be so ready to witness to Jesus Christ or to follow the teachings of the Church where they come into conflict with the current culture.  Fear often tries to force such compromises.  

In his book, An Exorcist Tells His Stories,” Fr. Gabrielle Amorth (at that time the chief exorcist of Rome) writes about a question he had been asked many times.  Are not priests afraid to say yes when the bishop asks them to take on the responsibilities of an exorcist for the diocese?  After all, would not agreeing to be an exorcist anger the devil and make them more vulnerable to attacks?  Amorth answers that, in fact, there are two things that priests do frequently that anger the devil more than exorcism and do more to diminish the works of evil: Absolving sins in the Sacrament of Reconciliation and preaching the Gospel (he naturally takes the Sacrament of the Eucharist as a given).

The first one is rather obvious.  To absolve sins in the Sacrament of Reconciliation does much more than drive away evil (it certainly does that).  It also restores the soul to sanctifying grace for those who were in mortal sin.  In a moment, a soul that is in danger of being lost forever because of mortal sin is suddenly brought back into a relationship with God that opens up to eternal life.  

Preaching the Gospel may come, perhaps, as a bit more of a surprise.  Preaching more powerful than an exorcism?  Really?  But Amorth goes on to describe the power of the word of God, and how preaching helps to form the soul in the virtue of faith.  Faith builds an environment around the believer that destroys ignorance and vice.  It helps one to trust in the promises of God, and inspires the soul to virtue and good works.  The devil thrives in ignorance and fear; faith allows the believer to understand that God is very, very near when trials come, not far away.  It allows one to live not by feelings and external appearances, but in the reality of God’s never-changing love.  The devil’s hands are tied by faith, because the power of God is very much at work in that environment.  

It is precisely for this reason—because of the power of the preaching of the Gospel and the faith that is generated—that Christ exhorts the Apostles this morning to “fear no one” and to get that message out!  He continues, “What I say to you in the darkness, speak in the light; what you hear whispered, proclaim on the housetops” (Matthew 10:27).  We are here today because these men listened to the words of Christ and put them into practice.  They did so with words, their actions, and even by offering their very lives as martyrs.

What are these reading and the teachings of Christ challenging us to do this week?  First and foremost, we are called to embrace the virtue of faith and, like Jeremiah, entrust ourselves to the power of God.  Whenever we encounter fear or evil (and we will), we entrust ourselves to the providence and the power of God.  We seek to live not by feelings but by faith, and strive to grow in that virtue.  Like all virtues, faith is a gift.  If we want more faith, we need to ask God for it, and know that He is so very prepared to increase that theological virtue in us.

Secondly, we proclaim the Gospel of Jesus Christ.  The priest preaches by virtue of his office but every believer is called to proclaim the Gospel message of salvation.  We are all called to make the message of mercy known to a world that desperately needs to hear it.  When we do that, we create an environment of faith for those around us.  So many times there are people we encounter that do not have an experience of the Sacraments, they do not know how very much God loves them and is ready to forgive and draw them close to Him.  But we do know and experience those things all the time.  When we make that truth known, we help to create an environment of faith and allow God to destroy the works of evil.  

Finally, we acknowledge how very effective the Sacrament of Reconciliation is, not only in driving away evil but also allowing sanctifying grace to create a wellspring of goodness in our lives and in the world.  Particularly for those of us who seek to embrace this sacrament frequently, we trust that God is continuing to form us in a way that makes us more faithful, more effective and more joyful disciples of Jesus Christ.  We all want that!  

Today we seek faith in the face of fear, and ask for the power of God to continue His amazing and glorious work in us.

Economy and COVID-19

(Trinity Sunday-Year A; This homily was given on June 7, 2020 in Rome, Italy; See Exodus 34:4-9 and John 3:16-18)

Today we celebrate the greatest, most central mystery of the Christian faith, God who reveals Himself as Father, Son and Holy Spirit.  The Catechism of the Catholic Church explains how the Trinity is the source of all the other mysteries of our faith, and is itself the mystery that enlightens all the others (CCC, #234).  At the heart of our faith in the Holy Trinity we find two essential dimensions: theology and economy.  

Theologically, we understand God as an eternal exchange of love.  Within the Holy Trinity, and from all eternity, is the most intimate and powerful outpouring of love, an amazing reality that we could ponder for our entire lives and never fully grasp. This eternal exchange is something which we could never discover or come to know of our own accord.  It could only be known through God’s free decision to reveal Himself.

This revelation is intimately connected to what theologians call the “economy of God.”  That word, “economy,” is one that we use all the time.  It has become central in the discussion and activity of our world system in light of the global pandemic.  We can come back to that in a moment.  The word “economy,” in fact, goes back much, much further than our modern economic system.  It comes from the Greek word, oikonomia and essentially means “management of a household.”  A family of five persons has an economy, a way in which they govern and manage their household.  A polis in ancient Greece or any modern city has an economy.  Even so with God.  His creation and the way that He governs and directs the world is oikonomia.  In that external work and management, the inner life of God is made manifest.

The readings for this weekend, and this wonderful feast that we celebrate today, illustrate this in a beautiful way.  In the first reading, God gratuitously reveals Himself to Moses:

The Lord, the Lord, a merciful and gracious God, slow to anger and rich in kindness and fidelity.

—Exodus 34:6

That eternal exchange of love is being shared with Moses, so that he may know Who it is that he is relating with.  In the Gospel of St. John this morning, that revelation is made even more explicit:

God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish but might have eternal life.  For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world might be saved through him.

—John 3:16-17

Those are really beautiful words, but in many hidden ways and also in very obvious ones God has acted in human history, and continues to act each and every day, in such a way as to make present that love.  Those actions are also His revelation, and they give meaning and a deeper interpretation of the words.  

The Second Vatican Council expresses it in terms of economy: 

“This ECONOMY of revelation is realized by deeds and words, which are intrinsically bound up with each other.  As a result, the works performed by God in the history of salvation show forth and bear out the doctrine and realities dignified by the words; the words, for their part, proclaim the works, and bring to light the mystery they contain” (Dei Verbum, 2).

When God tells Moses that He is merciful and gracious, how He is slow to anger and rich in kindness and fidelity, He also reveals that holy love by forgiving, listening, guiding and shepherding His people through countless trials and conflicts.  At the Red Sea, He is faithful; after the people fall into the sin of idolatry, He is merciful and gracious; as Israel strives with God century after century, He is slow to anger and rich in kindness.  When we hear how God sent His only Son into the world save it, we recognize that Christ was crucified for love, and willingly poured Himself out on Calvary for the forgiveness of sins and the salvation that we so desperately need.  That eternal exchange of love which we could never know or discover is now unmistakably manifest in the words and actions of almighty God.

The remarkable truth of the Christian faith is that God now wants us to enter into that exchange.  One of the most stunning lines in the Catechism states, “By sending his only Son and the Spirit of love in the fullness of time, God has revealed his innermost secret: God himself is an eternal exchange of love, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, and he has destined us to share in that exchange” (CCC, #221).

Of course, the reality is that we are not God.  We do not naturally pour ourselves out in love, nor are we always ready to receive it.  We require grace.  We need the supernatural help of God to live within the amazing love of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit.  In Baptism, we are given that supernatural grace to love in an entirely new way.  When we are cleansed of Original Sin and the Holy Spirit begins to live in us and is made manifest in the Church—which is the gift of God we just celebrated last week at Pentecost—we are able enter into that eternal exchange of love and we are transformed.  

Before we say or do anything, we are changed and renewed in the inner life of God.  But in order for that reality to reach its final end, we must be fruitful.  We must cooperate with God’s grace and make that love effective in the world we live in.  In other words, who and what we are, theologically, must also be expressed in oikonomia.  This is what the world longs for, now more than ever.

The world as we know it is suffering.  We are struggling on every continent right now in the wake of this global pandemic.  The effects of the coronavirus, as we well know, are more than just physical; COVID-19 has affected us economically, as well.  Because of the lockdowns and isolation measures, the world’s economy is struggling.  

The World Economic Forum has recently introduced the need for what they refer to as “The Great Reset” of the economy, to begin anew with a focus that will benefit the ecology, address global inequalities, and build the sustainability and resilience that will endure well beyond the COVID-19 crisis.  We can and should pray for the success of this plan.  It is a very positive proposal for change, but no world economic plan can fully reset the world we live in.  Only love can truly reset the world, and our faith teaches us that Christ came into the world to do exactly that.  The Holy Trinity has the power to reanimate the culture we live in and reset the oikonomia.  But God is depending upon us to cooperate with His plan to do that.  

The secret to resetting the economy is found in the heart of our faith, and in the central mystery of God Himself: “By sending his only Son and the Spirit of love in the fullness of time, God has revealed his innermost secret: God himself is an eternal exchange of love, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, and he has destined us to share in that exchange” (CCC, #221).

May we allow God to penetrate every dimension of our lives, being transformed in that eternal exchange of love that is already present in the Father, Son and Holy Spirit.  We pray this week to fully participate in the economy of God, expressing that love in all that we say and in all that we do.

The Ascension: Through the Eyes of the Father

Rembrandt-The Ascension (1636)

(Solemnity of the Ascension-Year A; This homily was given on May 24, 2020 in Rome, Italy; The original text in Italian is included; See Matthew 28:16-20)

We celebrate once again the Solemnity of the Ascension.  Jesus is returning to the Father and we can imagine well the emotions and concerns of those first disciples.  

The Gospel this weekend begins, “The eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain to which he had ordered them” (Matthew 28:16).  Galilee is the place where Christ had called His first disciples.  It was there that they had seen Him perform miracles.  They listened to Him teaching about the Kingdom of God in that place.  Now He was going to leave them  . . . in Galilee.  Mysteriously, He had even indicated in the Gospel of St. John, “It is better for you that I go” (John 16:7).  How is the Ascension better for us than if Jesus had remained?

In his book, “Jesus of Nazareth-Part Two: Holy Week,” Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI explains why the Ascension of Jesus is actually an expression of His closeness to them, and not His absence.  

He refers to the beautiful story of the disciples in the storm on the Sea of Galilee (see Matthew 14:22-33; Mark 6:45-52, and John 6:15-21).  

Jesus had just performed the miracle of the multiplication of the loaves, feeding 5,000 people.  He sends the disciples before Him in the boat, while He goes up on the mountain to be alone in prayer with the Father.  Suddenly the disciples encounter a storm; they are threatened and afraid.  It seems that Jesus is far away and unable to help them.  

“But because he is with the Father,” Benedict explains, “he sees them.”  He is not separated from them.  Because Jesus is with the Father on that mountain, He is even more available to these disciples.  

Continuing his reflection, he says:

This is an image for the time of the Church—intended also for us.  The Lord is “on the mountain” of the Father.  Therefore he sees us.  Therefore he can get into the boat of our life at any moment.  Therefore we can always call on him; we can always be certain that he sees and hears us.  

In our own day, too, the boat of the Church travels against the headwind of history through the turbulent ocean of time.  Often it looks as if it is bound to sink.  But the Lord is there, and he comes at the right moment.  “I go away, and I will come to you”—that is the essence of Christian trust, the reason for our joy.

We can see this mystery at work all throughout the history of the Church.  It is never our strength, our wisdom or our power that saves us.  It is always God.  The Ascension of Jesus that day in Galilee was the greatest thing that could have happened for those disciples.  It is also a wonderful gift of God for us.

As we face so many challenges in the world, and in the Church, do we believe this?  Do we believe that Christ is right now with the Father, and that He sees us through the eyes of the Father?  Do we have faith that we are cared for at every moment of our lives?

Pope Francis, in his Urbi et Orbi Message and Extraordinary Moment of Prayer this past March, reflected on this same passage of the disciples in the storm at sea.  He invited the Church, in this moment of trial that the world is facing amidst the pandemic of COVID-19, to place our faith and trust in God.  Taking the words of our Lord from St. Mark’s Gospel, “Why are you afraid?  Have you no faith?”, He said:

Faith begins when we realize we are in need of salvation.  We are not self-sufficient; by ourselves we founder: we need the Lord, like ancient navigators needed the stars.  Let us invite Jesus into the boats of our lives.  Let us hand over our fears to him so that he can conquer them.  Like the disciples, we will experience that with him on board there will be no shipwreck.  Because this is God’s strength: turning to the good everything that happens to us, even the bad things.  He brings serenity into our storms, because with God life never dies.

As we celebrate the Ascension, we thank God for His providence, His abundant care in our lives.  We know that Jesus sees us with the eyes of the Father, and that He is ready to come to us at any moment.  He comes to us now, in the Blessed Sacrament of the altar.  May we never cease to welcome Him, to love Him and entrust our very lives to Him.

Testo Originale

Celebriamo ancora una volta la Solennità dell'Ascensione.  Gesù sta tornando al Padre e possiamo ben immaginare le emozioni e le preoccupazioni di quei primi discepoli.  

Il Vangelo inizia questo fine settimana: "Gli undici discepoli andarono in Galilea, sul monte che Gesù aveva loro indicato" (Matteo 28:16).  La Galilea è il luogo dove Cristo aveva chiamato i suoi primi discepoli.  È lì che lo avevano visto compiere miracoli.  Lo ascoltavano mentre insegnavano il Regno di Dio in quel luogo.  Ma ora, Egli stava per lasciarli . . . in Galilea.  Misteriosamente, aveva indicato nel Vangelo di San Giovanni: "È bene per voi che io me ne vada" (Giovanni 16,7).  In che modo l'Ascensione è migliore che se Gesù fosse rimasto? 

Nel suo libro "Gesù di Nazaret -Seconda parte: Settimana Santa", Papa Benedetto XVI spiega perché l'Ascensione di Gesù è in realtà un'espressione della sua vicinanza a loro, e non il suo allontanamento.  

Benedetto si riferisce alla bella storia dei discepoli nella tempesta sul mare di Galilea.  

Gesù aveva appena compiuto il miracolo della moltiplicazione dei pani, nutrendo 5.000 persone.  Egli manda i discepoli davanti a Lui nella barca, mentre sale sulla montagna per essere solo in preghiera con il Padre.  Improvvisamente i discepoli incontrano una tempesta; sono minacciati e impauriti.  Sembra che Gesù sia lontano e non sia in grado di aiutarli.  

"Ma perché è con il Padre - spiega Benedetto - li vede".  Li vede!  Non è separato da loro.  Poiché Gesù è con il Padre su quel monte, Lui è ancora più disponibile a questi discepoli.  

Continuando la sua riflessione, dice:

Questa è un'immagine per il tempo della Chiesa, voluta anche per noi.  Il Signore è "sul monte" del Padre.  Per questo ci vede.  Perciò può entrare nella barca della nostra vita in qualsiasi momento.  Perciò noi possiamo sempre invocarlo, possiamo sempre essere certi che ci vede e ci ascolta.  

Anche ai nostri giorni, la barca della Chiesa viaggia controvento della storia attraverso l'oceano turbolento del tempo.  Spesso sembra destinata ad affondare.  Ma il Signore è lì, e viene al momento giusto.  "Vado via, e verrò da voi" - questa è l'essenza della fiducia cristiana, la ragione della nostra gioia.

Possiamo vedere questo mistero in tutta la storia della Chiesa.  Non è mai la nostra forza, la nostra saggezza o la nostra potenza che ci salva.  È sempre Dio.  L'Ascensione di Gesù quel giorno in Galilea è stata la cosa più grande che potesse accadere a quei discepoli.  È anche un meraviglioso dono di Dio per noi.

Mentre affrontiamo così tante sfide nel mondo e nella Chiesa, crediamo a questo?  Crediamo che Cristo sia in questo momento con il Padre e che ci vede attraverso gli occhi del Padre?  Abbiamo fede nel fatto che siamo assistiti in ogni momento della nostra vita?

Papa Francesco, nel suo Messaggio Urbi et Orbi e Momento Straordinario di Preghiera dello scorso marzo, ha spiegato su questo stesso passaggio dei discepoli nella tempesta in mare.  Ha invitato la Chiesa, in questo momento di prova che il mondo sta affrontando in mezzo alla pandemia di COVID-19, a porre la nostra fede e la nostra fiducia in Dio.  

Prendendo le parole di Gesù nel Vangelo di San Marco, "Perché avete paura?  Non avete ancora fede?", Il Santo Padre disse:

L’inizio della fede è saperci bisognosi di salvezza. Non siamo autosufficienti, da soli; da soli affondiamo: abbiamo bisogno del Signore come gli antichi naviganti delle stelle. Invitiamo Gesù nelle barche delle nostre vite. Consegniamogli le nostre paure, perché Lui le vinca. Come i discepoli sperimenteremo che, con Lui a bordo, non si fa naufragio. Perché questa è la forza di Dio: volgere al bene tutto quello che ci capita, anche le cose brutte. Egli porta il sereno nelle nostre tempeste, perché con Dio la vita non muore mai.

Mentre celebriamo l'Ascensione, ringraziamo Dio per la sua provvidenza, per la sua abbondante cura nella nostra vita.  Sappiamo che Gesù ci vede con gli occhi del Padre e che è pronto a venire da noi in ogni momento.  Egli viene a noi ora, nel Santissimo Sacramento dell'altare.  Che non smettiamo mai di accoglierlo, di amarlo e di affidare a Lui la nostra stessa vita.

Building with Faith & the Holy Spirit

St. Peter's Basilica, Vatican City State

(Fifth Sunday of Easter-Year A; This homily was given on May 10, 2020 at a private Mass in Rome, Italy, in accord with the regulations of the Republic of Italy and the Vicariate of Rome; See Acts 6:1-7, 1 Peter 2:4-9 and John 14:1-12)

Several months ago, before the lockdown began, I was in Orvieto with one of my seminary classmates.  We were standing in the square and commenting on the majestic beauty of the Duomo.  It really is a remarkable church.  The facade alone, before one even enters the interior to see the storied frescoes of Luca Signorelli, is absolutely breathtaking.  We talked about how many people must have participated in the building of that great gothic and romanesque cathedral.  Begun in 1290, its construction continued for over 300 years, with the finishing touches being set in place by the early 17th century.

All of the major churches and basilicas have similar stories.  Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris France, as well as St. Peter’s Basilica here in the City of Rome, were all massive projects that extended over centuries and involved thousands of different persons.  These great monuments express the solidity and the beauty of our Catholic faith.  There are strong, masculine elements in these churches, as well as fine, elegant and feminine dimensions.  They communicate the Catholic imagination and creativity in a singular way.

If you have ever seen the movie, Inception, it tries to capture that same sense of construction by means of the imagination and inspired creativity.  The main protagonists in that story enter into the area of the subconscious, and are able to construct entire worlds similar to our own but without limitations.  They can construct cities that defy the laws of physics, opening up entirely new dimensions.

In the readings this weekend we are presented with a building that is even greater than all of the churches and cathedrals here on earth.  It is more magnificent and even more imaginative than anything you would find in the movie, Inception.  It is a building constructed by God Himself, set firmly in the heavens.  Jesus refers to it as “My Father’s house” (John 14:2).  It is an impressive and amazing edifice, because it is made not with wood, stone and glass, but with you and I!  God is building His dwelling place in the heavens, and we ourselves are the material He is using to do it.

St. Peter, in the Second Reading this weekend, writes with great affection: “Beloved, Come to him, a living stone, rejected by human beings but chosen and precious in the sight of God, and, like living stones, let yourselves be built into a spiritual house to be a holy priesthood to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ” (1 Peter 2:4-5).

The Church that Christ founded is the temple of the Lord, the very “dwelling place of God in the Spirit” (Ephesians 2:21-22).  But in the First Reading this morning we can see that there are already potential fissures in the foundation, divisions that are threatening to weaken that spiritual house.  There were two communities gathering together to listen to the message of salvation, the Hebrews and the Hellenists (Greek speaking believers in Christ).  While the Church was growing considerably in that time, “the Hellenists complained against the Hebrews because their widows were being neglected in the daily distribution” (Acts 6:1).  There are few things that can irritate and anger a group of men more than neglecting the women that they love; there are few things in the Sacred Scriptures that irritate God more than the mistreatment of widows.  The Apostles, therefore, moved quickly to firm up the foundation.

Their solution was to select out holy men to serve the needs that were going unmet; they prayed over these men and laid hands on them.  This is the foundation for the diaconal ministry, and the first one on the list was St. Stephen.  We are told that Stephen was, “a man filled with faith and the Holy Spirit” (Acts 6:5).  I would suggest that St. Stephen is a Master Builder in that regard.  He possessed two qualities that have enabled countless saints and holy men and women to build up the house of God: faith and the Holy Spirit.

Beginning with faith, we can see already in the writing of St. Peter this morning how essential that virtue is for the house of God.  St. Peter says that Jesus Christ is the cornerstone of God’s great edifice.  Without Him there would be no building at all.  About this cornerstone, St. Peter writes that “its value is for you that have faith, but for those without faith,” Christ is “a stone that will make people stumble, and a rock that will make them fall” (1 Peter 2:7-8).  We need faith to cooperate with God in the construction of His holy temple.

The Gospel for this weekend is entirely occupied with the virtue of faith in the lives of the Apostles.  Christ is speaking to them at the Last Supper, and immediately before He reveals to them that there are many dwelling places in His Father’s house, He says, “You have faith in God; have faith also in me” (John 14:1).  He goes on to encourage them to believe that He is in the Father, and to believe in the works that the Father has given Him.  Then He says something quite astounding: “Whoever believes in me will do the works that I do, and will do greater ones than these, because I am going to the Father” (John 14:12).  

Greater works than Christ?  Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead.  He opened the eyes of the blind, and healed the sick with the touch of His hand.  How are you and I possibly going to do greater works than these?  

But for those who believe in Christ and cooperate with His grace, we have the power to encounter and engage people in a way that can transform their lives for all eternity.  There are so many souls separated from God and the Church.  How many people do we encounter every week that have left the practice of their faith or are not living in the saving grace of baptism?  Through faith and the power of God, we become instruments helping them to believe in God’s mercy.  We can bring souls to the Church in baptism, help them to meet the forgiveness of Christ in the Sacrament of Reconciliation, walk with them as they grow in intimacy with God in the Sacrament of the Eucharist.  There is no miracle greater or more powerful than a soul transformed by God’s grace.  They become living stones, along with us, in the Father’s house.  

How many times have we seen this happen firsthand?  We can all look to those grace-filled moments when we were present to listen to a broken person, to encourage and strengthen someone who was looking for direction or a little spiritual consolation.  We can do little to help and heal such persons of ourselves, but for those who believe, for those who have faith in Jesus, miracles happen.

Which brings me back to the Master Builder, St. Stephen.  He was a man “filled with faith and the Holy Spirit.”  The Church teaches us that faith is both a gift and a response.  It is something that comes to us from God, but we must also respond to faith with love, willing to bear witness to our faith by lives of charity.  We live by faith, but we also profess it, share it, and have the courage even to suffer for it when necessary (cf. Catechism of the Catholic Church, #1815-1816).  

The Second Vatican Council’s Dei Verbum indicates that the Holy Spirit is fully active in both the gift of faith and our response.  It is the grace of God that inspires the human person so that he or she can receive the gift of faith, along with the “interior helps of the Holy Spirit, who moves the heart and converts it to God, who opens the eyes of the mind” and “the same Holy Spirit constantly perfects faith by his gifts.” (Dei Verbum, #5).  We receive the gift of faith freely from God, and then through the gifts of wisdom and understanding, counsel and fortitude, knowledge, piety and fear of the Lord, we grow in our Christian life in a way that engages and encounters those around us.  

How is God challenging us this week to receive the theological virtue of faith and to allow the gifts of the Holy Spirit to manifest themselves in works of charity and evangelization?  As St. Peter exhorts us this weekend, “let yourselves be built into a spiritual house to be a holy priesthood to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ.”   May we also be Master Builders, like St. Stephen, filled with faith and the Holy Spirit, ready to cooperate in the greatest construction project that the world has ever seen.

Easter Vigil-Story of Salvation

(Easter Vigil-Year A; This homily was given on April 11, 2020 at a private Mass in Rome, Italy, in accord with the regulations of the Republic of Italy and the Vicariate of Rome; See Genesis 1:1-2:2 and 22:1-18; Exodus 14:15-15:1; Isaiah 54:5-14 and 55:1-11; Baruch 3:9-15, 32-4:4; Ezekiel 36:16-28; Romans 6:3-11 and Matthew 28:1-10)

The Roman Missal describes our celebration this evening as “the mother of all Vigils,” and the “greatest and most noble of all solemnities.”   It is singular in the vast array of liturgical feasts in the Church.  There are many dimensions of the Easter Vigil that make it unique.  One of them is the invitation we received which introduces the Liturgy of the Word.

Immediately following the musically enchanting Easter Proclamation or Exsultet, we were invited to listen to the great story of our salvation:

Let us listen with quiet hearts to the Word of God.  Let us meditate on how God in times past saved his people and in these, the last days, has sent us his Son as our Redeemer.  Let us pray that our God may complete this paschal work of salvation by the fullness of redemption.

Certainly we are called to listen with rapt attention every time the Sacred Scriptures are read, and we never cease to hear the story of our salvation when we are gathered around this sacred altar.  Nonetheless, that introduction provides a specific key for entering into each of the nine readings presented to us at the Easter Vigil.  The Church is signaling that this is our great story, and urging us to enter deeply into it as God ushers in the “fullness of redemption.”

Having listened to the first reading from the Book of Genesis, however, we may be tempted to ask the question, “Salvation, or creation?”  In fact, the first reading is the only text we are given to "meditate on” this evening that takes place before original sin, before the fall of Adam and Eve.   There is nothing in that reading regarding sin and death, or any mention of the need for salvation.  There is only the divine command that initiates the cycle of life, “Be fertile and multiply; fill the earth and subdue it” (Genesis 1:28).  

In his "Theology of the Body," St. John Paul II notes how “This cycle, so deeply rooted in the potentiality of the human body, was subjected, after sin, to the law of suffering and death.”  He goes on to treat of the peculiarity with which Adam names his wife, Eve, and how that title was given to her because she was “the mother of all the living” (Genesis 3:20).  But the nomination happens immediately after they receive the divine sentence of death as a consequence of sin!  It is as if Adam, still feeling the effects of original sin, nonetheless is buoyed with the hope that life will somehow continue under the direction of God.  St. John Paul II explains:

Awareness of the meaning of the body and awareness of its generative meaning come into contact, in man, with awareness of death, the inevitable horizon of which they bear within them.  Yet the ‘knowledge-generation cycle always returns in human history.  In it, life struggles ever anew with the inexorable perspective of death, and always overcomes it.

This is salvation, but on a very natural level.  It is substantial, it is powerful and gives new meaning to the divine command, “Be fertile and multiply.”  But it will never be enough.  God has created each one of us individually, to know and love Him personally, and together we make up the human family that longs for nothing less than eternal life with God.

In the subsequent chapters of Genesis, God calls Abraham in a deeply personal way.  He promises to make of him a great nation, and the source of blessing for all the nations of the world.  In our second  reading from the Book of Genesis, all of that appears to be in jeopardy as God challenges Abraham to sacrifice his only son.  Isaac already senses that something is amiss, and asks his father where they will find a sheep for the offering.  “God himself will provide the sheep for the holocaust,” Abraham assures him (Genesis 22:8).  This is supernatural faith, and rightly is Abraham referred to as “our father in faith.”  God does provide the sheep that will be sacrificed.  God’s salvation enters once again into the human family, this time through the sacrifice of the animal gratuitously provided. 

In the Book of Exodus we listen to the salvation of the People of Israel through water.  This reading is never optional in the Easter Vigil.  Moses raises the wood of his staff over the waters, and the power of God parts the Red Sea.  Israel is saved in the midst of the sea while their enemies are summarily destroyed.  This is God’s salvation writ large, and a preparation for the wood of the cross that will be lifted up over the earth as God destroys the enemies of sin and death.  God is bringing His people into the Promised Land, and the stage has been set for a deeper, more intimate life with Him.

Suddenly, however, with the entrance of the prophets, our story changes.  That invitation to intimacy and a deeper relationship with the God who saves has been left wanting; the covenant God made with Israel has been broken.  We meditate on the words from Isaiah in the fourth reading:

“The Lord calls you back, like a wife forsaken and grieved in spirit, a wife married in youth and then cast off, says your God.  For a moment I abandoned you, but with great tenderness I will call you back” (Isaiah 54:6-7).  Yes, God allowed Israel to experience the consequences of her infidelity, but He reminds her with great tenderness that her foundations have been laid in sapphires and her walls are built of precious stones (see Isaiah 54:11-12).  She need only return to Him, and with haste He will build her back up again, magnificent and splendid among the nations.

In the fifth reading Isaiah is still pleading, “All you who are thirsty, come to the water!  Heed me ... listen ... seek the Lord, turn to me ...” (Isaiah 55:1-8).  But still they remain unfaithful.  The Prophet Baruch, in the sixth reading, intensifies the longing of God to see Israel living in the fullness of the covenant, walking, once again, in fidelity of heart: 

Hear, O Israel, the commandment of life: listen and know prudence!  How is it, Israel, that you are in the land of your foes, grown old in a foreign land, defiled with the dead, accounted with those destined for the netherworld?  You have forsaken the fountain of wisdom!  Had you walked in the way of God, you would have dwelt in enduring peace.  Learn where prudence is, where strength, where understanding.

—Baruch 3:10-14

Over and over again God cries out to Israel through the prophets, and His plea fails to find a hearing among them.  The seventh reading is the climax of that epic struggle.  God comes out in judgment upon His people and holds nothing back as He speaks through the Prophet Ezekiel: 

Therefore I poured out my fury upon them because of the blood they poured out on the ground, and because they defiled it with idols.  I scattered them among the nations, dispersing them over foreign lands: according to their conduct and deeds I judged them.
-Ezekiel 36:18-19  

Ezekiel goes on to describe, with shocking detail, what happened next in the history of God’s people.  Having been scattered among the nations, living in foreign lands because of their infidelity to God, even there they began to profane His holy name.  Suddenly, the covenant between God and Israel has reached the breaking point.  For God it has become the hour of decision.  Because Israel has done this, now He will act.  

It is as if all heaven grows silent in that fateful moment.  What will become of God’s people now?  We listen, breathless, to the judgment of almighty God:

I will take you away from among the nations, gather you from all the foreign lands, and bring you back to your own land.  I will sprinkle clean water upon you to cleanse you from all your impurities, and from your idols I will cleanse you.  I will give you a new heart and place a new spirit within you, taking from your bodies your stony hearts and giving you natural hearts.  I will put my spirit within you and make you live by my statutes, careful to observe my decrees.  You shall live in the land I gave your fathers.  You shall be my people, and I will be your God.

—Ezekiel 36:24-28

These are the final words in the seventh reading, as the grace of the New Covenant comes crashing in to fulfill that promise.  It is the judgment of God that will echo throughout salvation history in both directions.  What Ezekiel has just prophesied is nothing less than the coming of Jesus Christ and the transformation of fallen humanity by divine grace.  This is what we celebrate tonight, the culmination of everything God set out to accomplish in giving us His own divine life.  

The Evangelical writer, Calvin Miller, in his book, “The Divine Symphony,” comments on the shot fired at the Battle of Lexington, beginning the American Revolutionary War.  Often referred to in American history as “the shot heard round the world,” Miller disagrees.  He writes, “No shot was ever heard round the world.  In fact, in all of human history only two sounds have been heard around the entire world. . . The first: a newborn baby’s cry, saying, ‘It is begun.’  The second: A young man’s dying cry, saying, ‘It is finished’.”  

This is the cry we listened to on Good Friday:  “It is finished  ... It is accomplished ... It is consummated.”  The work of God and the story of our salvation has been completed.  Now the doors stand wide open for us to enter fully into this new life with God.

St. Paul’s Epistle to the Romans indicates that doorway as Baptism.  “We were indeed buried with him through baptism into death,” writes St. Paul, “so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the father, we too might live in newness of life” (Romans 6:4).  

This is why the main protagonist in all of the resurrection accounts for Easter is not, in fact, the risen Christ but the empty tomb.  Mary Magdalene and the other Mary meet the risen Christ in the Gospel this evening, but only after their encounter with the empty tomb.  In the Gospel for Easter Sunday morning, Christ does not even appear at all!  Mary Magdalene is confronted with the place where He was buried, instead.  St. Peter and St. John will also encounter this tomb, and enter it!  We are all called to enter that tomb, to die with Christ and rise anew with Him.

This is the message of Easter!  This is the story of our salvation!  We are called to make the prophesy of Ezekiel a reality by allowing God to transform our hearts from the inside out.  We are called to let divine grace soften our hearts of stone and make them malleable and formable, totally docile to the will and pleasure of almighty God.  In the words of the invitation that began the Liturgy of the Word this evening: Let us pray that our God may complete this paschal work of salvation by the fullness of redemption.