Here is my homily from May 24, 2015, Pentecost Sunday, Year B.
Readings: Acts 2.1-11; Psalm 104; 1 Corinthians 12.3b-7,12-13; John 20.19-23 (See the readings at usccb.org)
Homily text below:
There were two thoughts that came to my mind when I read this first reading for today, the story of Pentecost. The first thought was this: “I’m so glad I'm not the one having to proclaim this out in public! Thank you very much!” It's not an easy reading by any stretch. It's a tough one; all those names and everything, so thank you.
The second, however is a fair bit more introspective. It brought me right back to my last couple of weeks on pilgrimage in Italy. It was a great trip; lots of fun, very inspiring. And I was able to spend a few moments at the beginning and at the end of the trip at St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome. You’ve seen pictures of this basilica; it’s a spectacular place. Inspiring architecture, artwork that elevates the soul. And people. Tens of thousands of people from all over the place.
We were there for Sunday a couple of weeks ago, for the audience where the Pope prays and speaks to everyone at noon. And there I was in a group with a bunch of people from the United States and Canada. Next to us was a group from Croatia. And there were African nuns walking by. And a German group. And people from the Philippines. and of course a bunch of Italians. And on and on and on… All together, in the same square, worshiping God, hearing the successor of St. Peter, Pope Francis. All these languages, all these people, all gathered together.
There was Pentecost, truly, right there in that place. All these languages. All these people.
Now that really hit me the day before I came home. As I said, I went back to the basilica; went to go and pray for a bit. There were a couple of Masses going on, with all kinds of people there. There were tourists and pilgrims from all over the place. I went to the tomb of St. John XXIII and prayed my breviary.
As I was praying and reflecting on everything and everyone around me, it just hit me, stronger than I expected: This is the nature of the Church, in very a real, in a very mystical way. That in the Church, in the Holy Spirit who is active in the Church, we are never truly alone. We are connected by something that transcends distance, that transcends language, that transcends culture, transcends upbringing, or race or gender or age. In this Church of ours, we are connected, powerfully, to each other by the Holy Spirit. The Spirit of the Living God is in this world, is in this very room right now, and our bodies are his temple. He raised Jesus from the dead. In him we are more united than we possibly know. In him we are never alone.
It was amazing. As if to drive that point home to me (because I can get a little dense when it comes to me and God) as I was walking out of the basilica that day, a week ago Saturday, thousands of people again in that basilica: a couple came up to me. They were wondering if I could speak English (and you know I kind of can a little bit) and wanted me to bless some rosaries they had bought. They were from Canada. We're never alone! Thousands of people, and this is who I come across?!
Well, why did this hit me so profoundly at that place that day? Well, I’m going to be honest and a little personal here, so please indulge me for a bit. As I was going through this pilgrimage, we had a lot of fun and see amazing things — saw the Shroud of Turin, which was AMAZING and very humbling — What was in my mind throughout the entire pilgrimage was all of us here. And again, if I can get very personal, I was thinking about this upcoming move that I’ve been asked to make to Saskatoon at the end of June, and how it’s going to be hard to leave. That was going through my mind the entire way.
I may be alone in this — but I doubt it — that any time there is a major change in life, it can leave us feeling a bit alone. A bit isolated. Whether it’s a move or a change in job or change in relationships or whatever — and it can a very happy thing, too! — change can leave us feeling a bit alone and a little bit uncertain and even a bit afraid.
Look at the disciples. There they are, huddled up by themselves in that upstairs room in the house, afraid to go outside. They’ve experienced huge change. Their close friend Jesus died, and then rose from the dead, and went back to heaven. And now they're all by themselves. But then the Holy Spirit comes. The Holy Spirit comes and fills them. Those tongues of fire above their heads? That's more like a pilot light, with much more going on within. They become truly united. They have a unity in purpose and a unity in boldness. The Spirit brings them — and the people around them outside the house — brings them together in a way that transcends what is humanly possible.
What I felt so strongly as I prayed that day at St. Peter’s Basilica and, frankly, what I’ve felt here in these parishes over the years is something that speaks to the very nature of the Church. We are united in the Holy Spirit more than we can possibly know. As St. Paul says, we are members of one body.
In a real way, it doesn’t matter if we’re separated by distance — whether it’s the Atlantic Ocean, or Highway 5 to Saskatoon, or separated by language as so many of us were in the basilica, or separated by circumstances or by anything else. St. Paul even teaches us in Romans 8 that not even death separates us from the love of Christ. And in the great tradition of St. Augustine, the Love of God is, literally, the Holy Spirit. By the power of the Holy Spirit, we are one body in Christ. Remember back to the theme song from World Youth Day way back in 1993 said, We are one body in Christ, and we do not stand alone.
The same Holy Spirit who was poured out into the world on Pentecost, is the same Spirit who’s here today, working to make us one. May we be open to him: open to him, and let him help us truly live as we truly are. We are one body, one body in Christ, and we do not stand alone.
Readings: Genesis 1.1-2.2; Genesis 22.1-18; Exodus 14.15-41,15.20; Isaiah 54.5-14; Isaiah 55.1-11; Baruch 3.9-15,32-4.4; Ezekiel 36.16-17a,18-28; Romans 6.3-11; Mark 16.1-8 (See the readings at usccb.org)
Song referred to in this homily: Because He Lives by Matt Maher
I think it’s fair to say that we’ve heard a decent amount of Scripture tonight! At times it might have seemed a bit boring… is this ever going to end??… We’re waiting… come on, get to the end of the readings… Ohmygoodness, there’s another one?? Get to the good part! Get to Jesus rising from the dead! Let’s go! If you thought that at any point during the past 45 minutes or so: Good! That’s part of why we do this, partly why we have such a solemn vigil with so many readings from the history of salvation: because we as a people have waited for so long for our redemption.
God’s plan for us is not like microwave popcorn — hit some buttons, wait 2 minutes and 40 seconds, and then: Done! God's plan for us has been more like a crockpot. Waiting and waiting. Wondering if it’s ever going to be finished. But the end result is the best thing ever, more than we could have ever imagined.
So tonight we heard God's plan that was enacted over centuries and over millennia. We heard that story of creation, how God created the universe, the earth, everything in it over a period of time (science tells us, over billions of years! Hopefully the readings tonight didn’t seem quite that long!). We heard how harmonious creation was, how perfect God’s intention was for us: made in his own image, in perfect relationship with everything. But we also know the sad story, that humanity fell. We sinned. We rejected God. So God acted to rescue us from ourselves.
He chose a special people, born from Abraham. We heard the story of how God foreshadowed our salvation through Abraham. Whereas Abraham was ultimately not required to give up his son, his only son Isaac, who carried the wood for the sacrifice, on Good Friday we heard the opposite. We heard how God the Father did give up his Son, his only Son, who carried the wood for his sacrifice.
Then we heard about how God saved his special people from slavery in Egypt. They passed through the waters of the Red Sea, after centuries of waiting!
We heard several of the prophets who wrote down the words of God during the time of yet another horrifying defeat for the people. Nearly 6 centuries before Christ, Jerusalem was sacked; the Temple, the house of God was destroyed; and many of the people were taken captive. In the midst of that calamity, God spoke powerful words of comfort. So we heard from the books of Isaiah and Baruch and Ezekiel. We heard tremendous promises of hope, as the people waited for God to rescue them. Imagine how this would have sounded to a people who were waiting, who were suffering the loss of everything; and imagine these words being spoken to you:
"I am about to set your stones in antimony, and lay your foundations with sapphires. … In righteousness you shall be established; you shall be far from oppression, for you shall not fear."
"Incline your ear, and come to me; listen so that you may live. I will make with you an everlasting covenant."
"Hear the commandments of life, O Israel; give ear and learn wisdom!"
"I am about to act. … I will take you from the nations, and gather you from all the countries, and bring you to your own land."
My fellow Christians: What I proclaim to you this evening is what St. Paul proclaims to you, what the empty tomb shouts out in its deafening silence: Our long wait for redemption has been fulfilled!Jesus Christ is risen from the dead! Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!
"We know that Christ, being raised from the dead, will never die again; death no longer has dominion over him!" And, "If we have died with Christ, we believe that we will also live with him!"
We are now living in a world where death is not the end! Jesus, God in the flesh, has risen from the dead.
We are now living in a world where sin does not have the final say! Jesus, God in the flesh, has borne the weight of our sins on the Cross and he’s emerged victorious to offer us unfathomable mercy.
We are now living in a world where God has chosen to dwell, not just among but in his people for all eternity. And we are that people!
Our lives now have hope and direction because Jesus lives. The tomb is empty. "He has been raised; he is not here. Look, there is the place where they laid him."
This is the Good News! We can be filled with life because Jesus has won for us his life. We can share in the glory of his resurrection and have our sins forgiven and walk with him to eternal life, where there is no weeping, no mourning, no pain, no darkness, but endless, jubilant Light.
Isn’t that worth the wait? I should say so!
Tonight we have the wonderful opportunity to recommit ourselves to following Jesus, risen from the dead. We have the opportunity to renew our sharing in his resurrection through the solemn vows of our baptism. We have the opportunity to once again make a conscious choice to reject sin and to choose to live in the freedom of the children of God. May we take this opportunity seriously, and truly recommit our lives to Jesus.
I’ll close with some words from a new song by Catholic musician Matt Maher:
"Amen! Amen! I’m alive; I’m alive because he lives! …
Because he lives, I can face tomorrow.
Because he lives, every fear is gone.
I know my life, my future is in his hands.
Amen! Amen! I’m alive; I’m alive because he lives!"
Here is my homily from May 24, 2015, Pentecost Sunday, Year B.
Readings: Acts 2.1-11; Psalm 104; 1 Corinthians 12.3b-7,12-13; John 20.19-23 (See the readings at usccb.org)
Homily text below:
