8-14-2011 – Homily for the 20th Sunday in Ordinary time - Matthew 15:21-28

       If you’re like me, you might find today’s Gospel shocking.  A poor woman comes to Jesus to get help for her daughter whose possessed by a demon.  Initially, Jesus is unreceptive to her pleadings in a very unkind way.  First, Jesus won’t even answer her or acknowledge her presence; then, the disciples just want to get rid of her.  Is this the same Jesus who always hears the cry of the poor, who cures the sick, who gives sight to the blind, who exemplifies God’s mercy and love? 

Well, if we look at the details of what’s going on in Jesus’ interaction with the Canaanite woman, we can understand why he reacts the way he does, seeing him grow through this interaction.  Jesus and his disciples withdraw to an out-of-the-way place in order to rest, to re-energize, to get away from people who are always asking for a miracle or a healing. Jesus meets the Canaanite woman in the boundary region of Galilee and Tyre-Sidon, where the Jewish territory interfaces with the Gentile lands.  This was a place of tension and prejudice; the Jewish historian Josephus called the people of this region Israel’s “bitterest enemies.”  Many problem existed between the Jews and the Gentiles of this region: ethnic tensions, religious misunderstandings, conflicting economic interests, and fights over land. 

The Jews of ancient Israel saw this Canaanite as an outcast and an outsider, yet she has the courage and tenacity to cross the boundaries that separated her from the Jews in order to ask Jesus for help in healing her daughter.  She calls Jesus Lord, a term that only his disciples and followers use.  She cries out to him - “Have pity on me, have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David.”  After the disciples try to get rid of her, Jesus announces that he was only sent for the lost sheep of Israel.  We need to remember that Matthew was writing from a Jewish perspective to a primarily Jewish audience.  Many of the Jewish followers of Jesus in the first century after his death and resurrection still wondered if the salvation brought by Jesus could be open to non-Jews.  The Canaanite woman courageously kneels before him in an act of submission, defiantly asking for his mercy even in the face of the poor treatment she receives.  Shockingly, Jesus describes any help he would give her as the equivalent of taking food out of the mouths of children and giving it to dogs.  Through this Gospel passage, we see Jesus struggling with the cultural and historical context of his Jewish faith that looked down at the Canaanite people of this region.  Also, I see Jesus struggling to understand whether his proclamation of God’s kingdom and salvation violates the priority given to the people of Israel if he extends this reign to the Gentiles.  Jesus’ followers also struggled with this same issue of including the Gentiles into the reign of God at the time Matthew’s Gospel was written.

We struggle with similar issues today ourselves, don’t we?  Often, we can look down at people who have views different from our own. Take the perspective of the street people I served as a missionary in Canada, or the prisoners I visit at the state and federal prisons here in Yazoo City.  When they read a Gospel story such as the one today, of how this Canaanite woman begs for Jesus’ help with defiance and fortitude, I’m sure it resonates with their daily struggles of surviving on the streets or trying to negotiate the complexities of life in a prison.  Before I began my prison ministry as a priest, before I worked with the street people, prostitutes, and heroin addicts up at the soup kitchen in Winnipeg, Canada as a missionary, I had no idea what life was like for those segments of the population.  Last week, when I was at the state prison here in Yazoo City, I told the prisoners that my interaction with them really has affected my priesthood, that it’s helped to change my heart and to see the Gospel from the perspective of a prisoner. 

Look at the remarkable ending in today’s Gospel.  In last week’s Gospel reading, Jesus challenged Peter for his little faith when they were walking on the water.  Yet, today, Jesus admires the great faith of the Canaanite woman.  Her faith was remarkable in her persistence in the face of Jesus’ obstructions, in her crossing of barriers that label her an outsider and outcast, as her reliance on Jesus’ power and her recognition of his divine authority over evil spirits and demons.  In performing the miracle cure of her daughter, Jesus overcomes barriers as well, growing in his view of his ministry, growing in his understanding of who is included in God’s plan of salvation.  In all honesty, I don’t think that Jesus was born as an infant with full knowledge and full understanding of the vocation for which he was chosen by God.  As fully human, Jesus  grew in his understanding of what his mission was all about, especially in the way it defied many of the fixed notions prevalent in ancient Israel. 

So, I think that today’s Gospel has a two-fold message for us today.  Jesus’ interaction with the Canaanite woman and the way he changed through this encounter is a good example for all of us.  I remember that at the end of my seminary training, one of the secretaries there gave me this advice:  “Listen.  Listen to your parishioners.  Listen with your heart.  Listen before you speak.” It is so easy for us to judge people, isn’t it? It’s easy to see things solely from our own perspective, to not consider what another person is going through.  We need to listen more and talk less, not only with our brothers and sisters here on earth, but with God as well.  Jesus listened and interacted to the Canaanite woman; he then responded appropriately to her needs and great faith.  So, are we listening too? 

Secondly, are we persistent in our search for God, just as the Canaanite woman was tenacious and unyielding?  Do we struggle with those issues of faith that we don’t quite understand?  Do we look at those issues of faith that we are uncomfortable with, or do we just stay with those issues of faith that make us feel good and that are easy to comprehend?  We need to be challenged by our faith, we need to be pushed and prodded in order to grow.  We can’t remain stagnant in our faith.  Our journey as Christians in our modern world is certainly not an easy road for us.  May we be persistent and determined on our journey, in the way we live out our faith. 

8/3/2011 – Homily for the funeral mass of Lamar Selby – Matthew 11:25-30, Philippians 4:4-13

(These are the symbols of our Catholic faith that we place on Lamar's casket at the funeral.  First, the book of the Gospels to represent his fidelity to the word of God.  Next, a rosary handmade by Debbie Turk of St Richard parish in Jackson, representing Lamar's devotion to our Blessed Mother.  Finally, the crucifix, to represent the way Lamar united his sufferings with the sufferings that Christ endured.) 

“I can do all things through the Lord who strengthens me.”  Our reading from St Paul’s letter to the Philippians ends with this very positive acclamation.  As we were discussing what readings we would use for today’s funeral liturgy, Flo showed me an index card that Lamar had made when he gave a talk to candidates and catechumens at our parish who were preparing for entry into our Church several years ago, when Lamar spoke to them about his own journey in becoming Catholic. Lamar had this phrase from St Paul printed on these index cards that he handed out to them.  When Paul originally wrote this verse he was in prison and was going through a period of great struggle, yet Paul was still able to say that he could do all things in the Lord who strengthened him. Lamar was able to relate to this verse in the midst of his battle with cancer.  It was through Lamar’s faith that he found the strength and courage to endure. By his computer at home, Lamar also had a little plaque that said: “Live by faith one day at a time.” Lamar made it through the ups and downs of his illness and his cancer treatment by taking one day at a time, by living by faith, by placing his trust in the Lord.

Lamar’s family and friends will remember him for being so gentle and humble, yet so strong at the same time.  I always enjoyed going out to Patterson Road to visit Lamar and Flo, to see the beautiful garden & the hummingbirds & all of the nature that surrounded them that they loved so much.  I know that Lamar really saw God in all of creation, in the beauty of the nature that surrounds us here in Yazoo County.  During these past 5 ½ years in which he battled his illness, Lamar used this time to reflect upon a lot of things in his life, to write down his remembrances & reflections in a series of books that really touched a lot of lives. Many of the remembrances pertained to the community of Phoenix where he grew up in rural Yazoo County.  Phoenix, Mississippi that is, not Phoenix, Arizona.  Through all of this, Lamar never had a fear of death, he didn’t try to control God’s will for him, but he used this time in seeing God in the reality around him, in seeing each day as a special gift from God. 

The reading we heard from the prophet Isaiah today talks about a feast that God is preparing for us in his kingdom – a feast of rich foods & choice wines that God will prepare for us.  This is so in the spirit of the way Lamar viewed God, in the way he lived out his faith - a God of love and mercy and goodness, a God of hospitality and generosity.  This same reading from Isaiah also tells us that God will wipe away the tears from our faces; God will meet us in our reality and will help us through that reality.  Though we mourn today, we also celebrate Lamar’s life.  We take comfort at the peace Lamar was at as he entered into eternal life with our Lord, a peace at the end of a long struggle.  Jesus tells us: “Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, & I will give you rest.”  Yes, Lamar, your dignity and strength and graciousness in all you had to endure – all of that was an inspiration and a true witness of faith.  And now you are at rest in the Lord.  

8/7/2011 – Homily for the 19th Sunday in ordinary time – 1 Kings 19: 9, 11-13; Matthew 14:22-33

Do we see God when he speaks to us in the gentleness of a quiet whisper or in the power of a great storm?  Do we see Jesus in the real presence of his body and blood of the Eucharist?  (This chalice was given to me by Father Jeff Stealey, who was a seminarian with me at Sacred Heart School of Theology in Hales Corners, Wisconsin.  I remember Jeff when I use this chalice during mass.)

       When we encounter the prophet Elijah in our reading from the first book of Kings, he’s in quite a predicament.  He’s fleeing for his life, knowing that King Ahab and Jezebel are out to kill him.  Elijah has seen the people of Israel break their covenant with God to worship the foreign god of Baal.  Distraught, Elijah flees into the wilderness in haste, wishing for death to come to him peacefully.  The word of God comes to Elijah, telling him to stand on the mountaintop to see the Lord pass before him.  A great wind, a strong earthquake, and a tremendous fire all passed by Elijah as he looked out the entrance of the cave where he was hiding.  Elijah was surprised that the Lord was not in any of those strong, powerful acts of nature, since that was often where God appeared to his prophets.  Yet, after seeing that the Lord was not in those grand acts of nature, the Lord came to Elijah in a tiny, quiet whisper. 

         We might be looking for God in certain things, we might be expecting God to speak to us in a certain way, but God often is present to us in some very surprising ways.  When I first arrived on my missionary assignment in the jungles of Ecuador, the pastor of our mission site asked me if I would accompany him to a remote village deep in the rainforest where we would have mass.  The pastor had not been to this village for over a year since it was very far from our home base and since our mission site was over-loaded with 90 villages under our care.  After a 4-hour canoe ride, we rode horses for another two hours.  I’ll never forget that horse ride, since I was mounted on a wooden saddle, which was incredibly uncomfortable.  But the worst part came when we arrived in the village.  We had to cross this large ditch about 15 or 20 feet deep in order to get to the church; the only way there was by crossing this rough-hewn tree that was stretched across the ditch.  As I saw the villagers hurrying across the ditch effortlessly, I looked at the pastor and said: “Oh no, you’ve got to be kidding if you think I’m going across that.”  He told me that I had no choice, that it was the only way across.  I tried to take my time to inch across slowly.  As I started across, inch by inch, I actually made it to the half-way point on this huge log.  But when I started thinking about what I was actually doing, I panicked and I came to a standstill, frozen in my tracks.  I remember looking across the other side where it seemed like half the village was watching me, quite fascinated by the ordeal I was making out of this.  I made eye contact with this little old man – he couldn’t have been more than 5 feet tall, and he looked like he was about 100 years old.  Out of everyone in the crowd, he seemed to be the least equipped to help me, yet before I knew it, this man ran to me on the middle of log, literally picking me up in a bear hug and carrying me across to safety in an energetic run.  I was in shock, but I realized I had made it to safety.  I was so grateful to this kind angel who helped me out of his compassion and kindness. 

         Yes, God can come to us in very expected ways in the different situations we are confronted with in life.  Perhaps we’re expecting God to come to us in this huge earth-shattering event in our lives. But, more often than not, God comes to us in the quiet moments, in those seemingly mundane, ordinary events that make up the majority of our days here on earth.  Maybe we’re looking for a specific way for God to speak to us, so much so that we miss the way he is already present to us.  Elijah had the wisdom & fortitude to recognize God’s voice in that whisper.  He then covered his face with his cloak out of respect, knowing that he was before the divine presence.  Here Elijah was trying to run away from all his problems, even wishing that the Lord would let his life mercifully come to an end, but here God found him and opened his heart to his presence. 

         In our Gospel for today, the disciples also don’t see God in all the signs he has given them.  They had just seen the miracle of the multiplication of the loaves and the fish, yet in the midst of a fearful storm out at sea, when Jesus is walking right towards them to offer them help and comfort, they don’t even recognize Jesus, they think it must be a ghost.  The goal of our faith is not to experience a miracle; it is not to be able to walk on water, or to see God in an event that is as powerful as a great storm or a thundering earthquake.  Rather, the goal of our faith is to grow in our relationship with God, to see Christ’s presence in our lives in whatever form it presents itself.  We are to experience God’s abiding love for us in the many different moments he is present to us.  In other words, God is there for us in so many ways.  It is up to us to see him as he makes his presence known to us. 

8/7/2011 – Homilia dominical - El décimo noveno domingo del Tiempo Ordinario - el libro primero de los Reyes 19, 9a y 11-13a; Mateo 14, 22 - 33

¿Podemos reconocer la presencia de Dios cuando nos habla en una suave briso o en una tormenta poderosa?  ¿Podemos reconcer la presencia de Dios en su cuerpo y en su sangre en la Eucaristía?

En el cuento de Elías que escuchamos hoy en la lectura del libro primero de los Reyes, la palabra de Dios le dijo que Dios va a pasar en su presencia.  En nuestro encuentro con Dios en las sagradas escrituras, muchas veces Dios se manifiesta a los hombres con poder y grandeza.  Nosotros, como seres humanos, estamos cautivados en esta vision de la grandeza de Dios. En el libro primero de los Reyes, Dios pasó ante Elías cuando él se refugiaba en una cueva del monte. Elías estaba buscando la presencia de Dios en su grandeza: en el viento impetuoso, en el terremoto poderoso, y en la tormenta terrible. 

Pero, Dios no estaba en estos momentos de poder – El estaba en un momento de silensio, en una suave brisa. Muchas personas en nuestro mundo moderno estan buscando a Dios en los momentos grandes de nuestra vida. Pero, muchas veces, Dios está presente en los momento de silencio y en los momentos ordinarios de nuestra vida.

Pero, en nueustro Evangelio de hoy de San Mateo, Cristo estaba presente a los discípulos en una manifestación de poder y en sus capacidades como Dios. Los discípulos le encontraban en medio de la tormenta en el lago, cuando Jesús estaba caminando por las aguas. Los discípulos tuvieron miedo en este momento – se perdieron su fe en Dios y en Jesuscristo. Jesús subió a la barca, y el viento se paró.  Los discípulos conocieron la identidad de Cristo en este momento, y se postraron ante El.

Muchas veces, somos como los discípulos.  Es como no reconocemos la identidad de Jesucristo en la manera que vivimos nuestra vida de fe.  Muchas veces, somos como Pedro, con una fe comenzado y superficial, con una fe llena de duda y temor.  Muchas veces, podemos decir – Si, tengo fe en mi Dios, pero no estoy cierto.  Tengo dudas. Tengo miedo.  Pero, la presencia de Dios es siempre con nosotros en nuestra viaje de fe.  Puede ser como una suave brisa o una tormenta grande. 

En su encuentro con Dios, Elías recibió el coraje para cumplir su misión como profeta de Dios. Los discípulos crecieron en su fe, en su conocimiento de la identidad de Jesucristo como nuestro Salvador.  Ellos recibieron la fe para seguir en los caminos de la la misión de Cristo. Y nosotros tambien debemos escuchar a la voz de Jesús en nuestra vida, a su presencia que está con nosotros. 

8/4/2011 – Homily - Thursday – St John Mary Vianney – Matthew 9:35-10:1

        Jesus went to the various towns and villages of ancient Israel, proclaiming the Good News of God’s kingdom.  Yet, throughout his travels, Jesus was moved by compassion and pity by what he saw.  He knew that the people were searching for something, they were wanting to connect to the divine in their lives, to transcend the meaning of their earthly existence to find something more.

         I feel that myself sometimes in my own search for God.  I also see that in the people I visit throughout our region of the Mississippi Delta.  So many people are searching for something.  Yet, many end up searching in the wrong places.  They get caught up in bad habits or the ways of our world take them far away from God.

         St. John Mary Vianney is the patron saint of parish priests, quite an important role in the community of saints.  Yet he started his life as a priest being mocked, derided, and ridiculed, even by the Church authorities themselves.  Never a very good student, many of his instructors did not think he had it in him to be a priest at all, even a mediocre one.  So he was placed as the priest in a small village in France where it was thought that he would do the least harm.  But the people saw a compassion and holiness in him, flocking to him to hear their confession.   The people around him were searching for something, and they found it in the holiness and compassion of St John Mary Vianney.

         May we never give up on our search for God.  And may we never be surprised when we find God there in the most unexpected of places. 

8/2/2011 – Homily for Tuesday of the 18th week of ordinary time – Psalm 51:3-7, 12-13

     “Be merciful O Lord for we have sinned.”  This is the message the psalmist has for us, but this message is so very foreign to most of the messages we get in our secular world today.  So often, we don’t want to admit to God, or to ourselves, or to our brothers and sisters that we have sinned.  More often than not, we want to blame someone else or something else, we might want to even sue someone and try to gain financially even for our own sins.  And then we have structural sins, which are sins that we commit as a community or as a society.  Again, we usually don’t want to take responsibility for the sins we commit collectively.

         The Eastern Orthodox Church has a prayer called the Jesus Prayer.  It is often repeated again and again as a mantra. It has the same general message as our psalm refrain today: “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.”  Many scholars believe that this prayer developed out of the tradition of the desert fathers and mothers out in the deserts of Egypt in the fifth century.  An important part of the process of conversion and renewal for us today as modern Catholics is to admit our sins and to seek a change of heart, which is why the Sacrament of Reconciliation is such an important part of our Catholic faith.

          Just this past weekend, we had three inmates at the Central Mississippi Correctional Facility in Pearl come into our Church through an RCIA program we have been conducting out there through our prison ministry.  It was wonderful to see the humility and holiness in these men as they were received into the Church, how they were so happy to come into the Church after a long journey of longing and searching, of wanting to truly change their lives and give their hearts over to God.

         May we always come to God with our sins, with the ways we need to change in our lives.  And the Lord will be truly merciful to us in our honesty and humility. 

8/5/2011 – Homily for the Feast of the Dedication of the Basilica of St Mary Major in Rome – Friday – Luke 11:27-28

Photo of St Richard Youth Choir in the Basilica of St Mary Major in Rome with Cardinal Bernhard Law. (Photo taken by choir director Carleigh Bidell)

        Today, we celebrate the dedication of the Basilica of St Mary Major in Rome, one of the four major basilicas in that holy city.  It might seem strange to us that we dedicate an important feast day in our Church to a building, especially since the emphasis after the Second Vatican Council has been about how the Church is more than a building, how the people are the Church.  Yet, this basilica is an important center of worship of our faith, & it's dedication to the Blessed Virgin Mary tells us a lot about our faith as well.  The basilica of St Mary Major dates back to the 4^th century, with the current building dating from the 5^th century, right after the Council of Ephesus declared Mary to be the “Theotokos,” the God bearer, the Mother of God.  Today, as we celebrate this mass in our beautiful church building here in Yazoo City, built back in 1907, also dedicated to the Virgin Mary, I feel a deep connection to this feast day that we are celebrating. 

         Today’s Gospel may appear a bit puzzling to us at first glance.  Someone shouts out from the crowd, praising Jesus’ mother for having born him, but Jesus states that what is more important than being biologically connected to him is that we truly listening to the Word of God and try to follow it in our lives.  Jesus is not trying to disrespect his mother, but rather he is trying to tell us what is most important in our faith and in the eyes of God.  We must not forget that not only can the Virgin Mary be seen as the first disciple, but that she never points to herself or receives honor on her own behalf, but she always points us toward her Son, she always tries to draw us closer to him.

         Last December, when I had the opportunity to travel to Rome for the international choir congress with the St Richard Youth Choir, we had the honor of having a private mass with Cardinal Bernhard Law at the Basilica of St Mary Major.  That mass was one of the greatest moments of our trip.  When Cardinal Law greeted the youth and their parents personally, I saw their faces light up with great awe and joy.  What a faith-filled experience that mass was, as we celebrated mass in that beautiful church dedicated to the Blessed Mother, as we received Christ in the Eucharist in a basilica dedicated to his mother.  As Catholics, as we honor Mary, as we honor the Mother Church in Rome, may we grow closer to our faith, may we gain in our understanding of Mary as the Mother of God, our Mother, and the Mother of our Church.