Homilías del Padre Chris
We are on the cusp of Delaware County Fair week, and if you've ever been to that fair, you may be well familiar with one of its fixtures: the pancake tent run by a Walton community church. This past week, I was on the fairgrounds in my secular job capacity as Cooperative Extension educator, helping get our displays ready in the Agricultural Awareness area of the fair, which happens to be right next to the pancake tent. The church was also busy getting their tent set up as well. At one point I glanced over and realized that their pastor was leading a small group in a Bible study, while others continued to set up their serving area and kitchen. How nice, I thought, that they made space for this in the busy-ness of their set up. We went about our tasks, while this small group immersed themselves in Scripture. At some point, I realized that I was hearing the pastor’s voice, floating in and out on the light breeze, but in a more sustained way, and I realized he was leading the group in an extemporaneous concluding prayer to their Scripture study. We continued to go about our setup, not really paying close attention to the group in prayer. A bit later, I realized the pastor is still offering this concluding prayer. I don't know how much time elapsed before he eventually stopped, but it seemed like 5-10 minutes! I thought to myself — “Wow” . If you have ever led prayer extemporaneously, it is not easy to do it for an extended time period and have it flow without breaks, in a coherent, non-repetitious manner. How nice, I thought, in the midst of a workday to hear prayer offered, and I admired the pastor’s freedom to offer it in a time, place, and manner I was not expecting. Although I was not directly a participant in this pastor’s Scripture study and prayer, his example within earshot and eyesight was an inspiration of faith to me, no matter how small it may seem. God often brings us to a greater faith through the words and actions of our brothers and sisters around us — Catholic and non-Catholic alike — through the witness of their lived faith. Faith is at the heart of all of the readings we hear today, from the prophet Isaiah, St. Paul’s letter to the Romans, and Matthew’s Gospel. They all speak of foreigners — Gentiles — coming to salvation through faith. In the Jewish world, salvation was through Judaism and Israel. And while Jesus is a Jew, his healing of the Canaanite woman and Paul’s ministry to the Gentiles show that salvation is no longer exclusive to the Jews; rather that they can come to salvation through faith in Christ. It is, in fact, faith that is central to the Gospel passages we have heard each of the last three weeks: the disciples doubting that there was enough food to feed 5000 people, then watching and helping Jesus do so; Peter doubting the presence of Christ and that Christ could sustain him walking across the water and then being rescued by him; and a Canaanite woman believing Jesus, as Lord and Master, could heal her daughter, persevering in her petition for his help…and being rewarded for her great faith. These stories of faith beg questions of faith for us today — which of the characters are we? Are we the disciples, doubting there is enough to feed 5,000 in the presence of God? Are we Peter, wanting to believe, then testing his belief, then sinking in a sea of doubt? And the Canaanite woman, an outsider; is our faith as great as hers? How does the witness of the Canaanite woman challenge us to look and see the witnesses around us today, even those we consider outsiders, who inspire us to a greater Christian way of life — a greater lived Christian faith? A life of greater generosity, deeper compassion, richer mercy, and more fervent faith. In short, a life of love.
We all have storms in our lives. The issue for Peter seemed to have been, when he took his eyes off of Jesus, he began to drown. We need to keep our eyes on Jesus and when we experience storms in our lives that is how we get through, we keep our eyes on Jesus and we get through. The second thing Peter did when he began to drown is he called out to Jesus, “Save me, Jesus.” Jesus reached out and took Peter’s hand. Peter experienced being saved by the hand of Jesus. Today’s Gospel reminds me of the song “Hold On” from the musical The Secret Garden , based upon the book by Frances Hodgson Burnett. In the play, Mary Lennox is orphaned and moves in with her uncle. Her uncle is a hunchback and his wife died in childbirth; their child (Mary's cousin) is kept in isolation for fear he will be a hunchback like his father. Mary discovers her cousin’s mom’s garden and together they work to bring it back to life. The child begins to get well; when her uncle’s brother complains, Mary consults Martha the maid. Martha sings “Hold On”. Martha is singing about the situation with Mary’s cousin and uncle, but holding on to the face of Christ is how we weather our storms. Look up the song on YouTube. Here are some of the words from the song: When you see the storm is coming, See the lightning part the skies, It's too late to run- There's terror in your eyes! What you do then is remember This old thing you heard me say: "It's the storm, not you, That's bound to blow away." Hold on, Hold on to someone standing by. Hold on. Don't even ask how long or why! Child, hold on to what you know is true, Hold on 'til you get through. Child, oh child! Hold on! When you feel your heart is poundin', Fear a devil's at your door. There's no place to hide- You're frozen to the floor! What you do then is you force yourself To wake up, and you say: "It's this dream, not me, that's bound to go away." Hold on, Hold on, the night will soon be by. Hold on, Until there's nothing left to try. Child, hold on, There's angels on their way! Hold on and hear them say, "Child, oh child!" And it doesn't even matter If the danger and the doom Come from up above or down below, Or just come flying At you from across the room! When you see a man who's raging, And he's jealous and he fears That you've walked through walls He's hid behind for years. What you do then is you tell yourself to wait it out And say it's this day, not me, That's bound to go away.
The gospel begins with the words: When Jesus heard of the death of John the Baptist.... John is Jesus’ cousin; John is the one who leaped in his mother's womb when he met Jesus in his mother’s womb. John is the one who baptized Jesus and now Jesus hears that John is dead by being beheaded. Jesus is in grief and wants to be alone. We are told that in his grief, Jesus went off to be alone. Word gets out where Jesus is and all the people show up looking for him to heal and feed them. We are told that Jesus’ heart is full of compassion for the people. Rather than telling them to go away, to let him be, he heals them. This is the life of a disciple – people are not in need on my schedule. When people show up, I need to attend to them. We can never do ministry with our eye on the clock. Although he was tired and in grief, Jesus cared for the people. He knew he could not be there always and his disciples would need to help out. When the disciples tell Jesus the people are hungry, the disciples were the hungry ones. Jesus tells them to give them something yourselves. This is Jesus’ way of calling them to act as disciples. I have fed them with my words; if they need food for their bodies, give it to them yourselves. The disciples find five loaves and two fish. Jesus offers a prayer. Jesus gives thanks for what has been provided, an action of gratitude. He then gives them to the disciples to distribute. Jesus is asking them to continue his ministry by feeding the people. What is left over fills 12 baskets; the number 12 reminds us of the 12 tribes. Jesus has come to feed the whole world. Jesus provides the feast and we as disciples share what we have been given with others. The five loaves and two fish are enough to feed the crowd and provide many leftovers. Our God is a God of abundance. What God has provided is not wasted and what God has provided is given to us by disciples who participate in God’s work. If we are to be disciples, we need to learn how to feed others. Like Jesus, we may find that being a disciple interrupts our life. When someone is in need we attend, we put aside our own agenda for a time and attend to the person in need. Our grief may come later after we care for the person in need. Those who were fed echo the words of Isaiah in the first reading. They come and are fed body and soul. The feeding of the soul are the words of Jesus and the feeding of the body comes from the hands of the disciples.
For many old movie buffs, the movie King Solomon's Mines is a classic. Our first reading tells the story of King Solomon and his prayer for wisdom. “For the treasures of his heart, not his mines, Solomon is rightly remembered.” The parables speak of searching for treasure; for us the treasure is our relationship with God. The one who found the treasure in the field sells all he has to buy the field. The merchant searching for pearls sells all when he finds one that is perfect. Today we are asked to consider: What is my treasure? What is my pearl of great price? What is so important I would sell all I have to possess it? In the parables Jesus is speaking about the kingdom of God. What is more important to us than the kingdom of God? What would I sell to possess the kingdom of God? I am reminded of a story by Fr. Anthony DeMello, a priest from India: When a holy man reached the outskirts of the village and settled under a tree for the night, a villager came running up to him and said, “The stone! The stone! Give me the precious stone!” “What stone?” asked the holy man. “Last night Lord Shiva told me in a dream that if I went to the outskirts of the village at dusk, a holy man would give me a stone that would make me rich forever.” The holy man rummaged in his sack and, pulling out a stone, he said, “He probably meant this one. I found it in the forest yesterday. Here, it’s yours if you want it.” The man gazed at the stone in wonder. It was the largest diamond in the world – the size of a man’s head. All night he tossed about in bed. At break of day he woke the holy man and said, “Give me the wealth that makes it possible for you to give this stone away.” The kingdom of God is not something we possess, but something we seek for and when we find it, we share it with others.
There is a 16-acre field that stretches up behind my house on what used to be my father’s farm. This spring, the farmer that rents that field planted a “new seeding” of alfalfa haycrop, rotating it out of corn production from the previous year. He tilled the soil, carefully incorporating the remains of the previous corn crop, making the ground level. He then rolled it with a large smooth roller to smooth the ground, push down the stones and make a firm seedbed. He seeded the alfalfa, and then rolled the ground again, making sure there was good seed-soil contact, to ensure the alfalfa, which too is the smallest of seeds, would germinate. Then he left the field. And waited. And hoped. And trusted. For the planting of seed is an act of faith. That field of newly seeded alfalfa behind my house sprang up with great vigor in May and early June. It looked wonderful — a solid stand. The rain in the third week of June benefited the crop as it was getting dry, but brought with it as well a flush of an unwanted crop — weeds! This farming reality mirrors Jesus’s reminder in the parable that with the good seed of God sown and growing, there will always be weeds of the world — be they people, places, or things — that will compete with the growth of God’s Kingdom. In perhaps a surprising twist in the parable, the farmer instructs the laborers not to pull the weeds, lest they uproot the good crop as well. This is an exhortation to trust and patience in the action of God. While weeds can be devastating to a crop, in the Kingdom of God, it's important to remember that these weeds were once sown as good seed. St. Isadore of Pelusium, a fifth-century Desert Father of the Church, taught that God, the Master of the Harvest, is patient , and the weeds are not to be immediately pulled and burned, in order to give time for us to repent and mend our ways, that we might become good grain again. What? Weeds turned into good grain? Impossible, we think? But St. Isadore reminds us, lest we forget, of the striking examples of St. Peter and St. Paul, who strayed in sin, and yet with God’s grace and repentance went on to yield good and abundant fruit. Indeed, this is the story of so many of the saints! Thanks be to God for a merciful Father who “[gives] his children good ground for hope that [he] would permit repentance for [our] sins” (Wis 12:19b) — giving us a chance to become good grain again! One more thing about that field of newly-seeded alfalfa that became full of weeds. It was what we would term a “clear seeding”, which is a seeding solely of the intended principal crop (alfalfa in this case). There is another strategy that farmers employ to manage weeds in a new seeding, which is to plant them with another intended crop, usually a small grain like oats or barley. We call this other crop a companion crop . The companion springs up early and outcompetes the weeds, holding them at bay. Yet, due to its narrow but tall stature, it allows light down into the canopy to nurture the alfalfa. The result is two intended crops that thrive, helping each other yield a valuable and bountiful harvest. This agricultural practice reminds us that we are never Christians in isolation, but are indeed Christians in communion — companions that help each other on the journey towards the eternal harvest. That journey is the journey of holiness. The Church teaches that we are all called to holiness. That is our ultimate state of being for which we each are created. God sows us as companion crops for each other that we might help each other to grow in holiness, helping each other along the way by example and by deeds of love, kindness, and mercy, which sometimes include fraternal correction. Deeds which sometimes are the smallest of seeds, but grow to have the greatest of effect on each other. When we help each other grow in holiness, we fill the world with companion crops, keeping the weeds of the world at bay.
We are well into summer. I keep getting shown photos of the gardens people are tending in their backyards. It takes work and patience for produce to grow. Come in a few weeks and we will have a bountiful harvest of all kinds of produce. Those who are farmers can readily understand the parable of the sower in today’s Gospel. God sends out God’s word, and we are to be good soil for the word to take root. The challenge is to become fertile soil for the word of God. How do we become fertile soil? To be fertile ground, we need to keep an open mind. Too often I find myself not listening to what the other is saying, as I compose in my mind a response to what I think I am hearing. To really listen means to keep my mind open to receive what the other is saying. To listen means putting aside my agenda for a time. Sometimes the word of God struggles to get through all the noise in my brain. This is why quiet time in my day is so important; those who wish to listen to the voice of God go to a quiet place to listen for God. In these summer months we will spend time in quiet places where the word of God may speak to us. God’s voice is found at the seaside, in the woods, and on mountain tops. We need to quiet ourselves and listen for God’s voice. Making ourselves fertile ground for God’s word is not easy. We need to each day work to calm ourselves to hear God’s word. St. Ignatius of Loyola suggests a daily examen. Each day as we pray the Examen we become fertile ground. Here is how it is done: How to Pray the Examen Place yourself in God’s presence. Give thanks for God’s great love for you. Pray for the grace to understand how God is acting in your life. Review your day — recall specific moments and your feelings at the time. Reflect on what you did, said, or thought in those instances. Were you drawing closer to God, or further away? Look toward tomorrow — think of how you might collaborate more effectively with God’s plan. Be specific and conclude with the “Our Father.” Each day we work to make ourselves fertile ground.
On this July 4th weekend, we recall our land’s independence from a foreign king and a foreign government. We have thrown off the yoke of King George III; we are a free and independent nation. For 250 years we have been learning what it means to live as an independent and free society. Today Jesus invites us to consider taking upon a yoke as we go forward as disciples of him. The yoke of King George was too heavy for this nation, but the yoke of our God, we are told by Jesus, “is easy and light.” What is the yoke of Jesus? The yoke of Jesus is about the kingdom of God, learning to love others as we love ourselves. As disciples of Jesus we take on the yoke of the Gospel. When life feels heavy, we turn to our God, and our God helps to make our burdens light. There are many things in life that may seem like a yoke, a burden, but if we look at them in a new way, we see our God helping us to carry our burden. As Jesus invites us to consider the childlike, let me share with you a story: The Fable of The Birds At the beginning of time, all the animals were walking around discovering what it was like to be alive. All except the birds! They were doing nothing but complaining because God had given them a heavy burden that he’d given to no other animals: those awkward appendages on their shoulders. God must be punishing them somehow. Why did they have to carry these things around, making it hard to walk? “Why?" they asked. “Why us?” Finally, two or three of the more adventurous birds began to move their appendages. They began to flutter them, and soon they discovered that the very things they regarded as a burden actually made it possible for them to fly. And no other animals could fly. The “heavy burden” turned out to be a wonderful gift. Is there something in your life that at first glance seemed a burden, but later was seen as a gift? One reason why we value the innocent and simple among us is that they can help us to see life and who we are with new eyes. The simple or innocent can sometimes help us see what we thought was a burden as a gift. In the lives of the saints, we read about many who took what seemed to be a burden and made it an asset: The first disciples were simple fishermen. They were not scholarly, they couldn’t read, but they took their experience of Jesus and let it form them as disciples. What was a burden became an asset. Peter denied the Lord on the eve of his death. This made him more compassionate to sinners and those who struggled to have courage. Paul was blinded for 3 days; a former killer of Christians saw with new eyes and preached the good news to the Gentiles. Thomas doubted the Resurrection but came to faith in his doubt. Theresa the Little Flower loved Jesus and others with the simple love of a child of God. St. Kateri looked for and saw God present in the trees and the nature of the forests where she made her home. Mother Teresa of Calcutta saw our Lord present in the sick and dying in India. Blessed Stan Rother, a farmer’s son from Oklahoma who couldn’t read Latin, learned to speak in the native tongue of the men and women who he ministered with in Guatemala. With the eyes of a child, with childlike faith, we learn to see the burdens we carry as paths to faith in the help and care of our God. Let us give thanks today for the gift of freedom and let us give thanks for the gift of our God who makes our burdens light.
Our readings today speak of hospitality: In the first reading from 2 Kings, we hear how the woman made a room for the prophet Elisha. In the letter to the Hebrews, we read, “Be not forgetful to entertain strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.” In the Gospel, Jesus speaks, “and whoever receives me receives the one who sent me.” Hospitality is the essence of the life as a Christian. Many religious communities include this action as part of their rule. Hospitality is not easy. It seems that people are not in need on my schedule. Hospitality means stopping my actions and attending to others for a time. People are not in need on my schedule. Yet if I neglect them, I may miss out on entertaining angels. This summer there will be many who are in need. To them we offer our time and our hospitality. We are fortunate in our community that a hot meal is available seven days a week. I meet many in need when I stop to help out at Saturday’s Bread. Catholic Charities provides lunches to our students in July and August. You may want to consider helping to provide meals to our homeless and our students in the summer. It is so easy to get caught up in my schedule and I miss the chance to meet Christ in my neighbors and to miss out on entertaining angels. One thing I admired about Bishop Hubbard is that when he spoke to you, you were made to feel you were the most important person. As he spoke to you, he was moving on down the line, but for that moment you felt important, you were the most important person at that moment. How often do we make others feel that they are taking up our time or are a burden? On Thursday we celebrated LEON Day (Noel spelled backwards), which reminds us that we are six months away from Christmas. Maybe this is a good time to revisit a Christmas story. La Befana: The Witch of Christmas By Il Postino Staff and Tessa Derksen The legend of Befana began thousands of years ago and remains to this day a tradition practiced by Italian children and their families. As the story goes, one day, the three Magi left their country bearing special gifts of gold, incense and myrrh for the new-born Jesus Christ. They were guided by a star across many countries. At every village that they passed, people ran to meet them and accompany them in their journey. But there was one old woman who did not join the Magi. She claimed to be too busy with her housework and promised to join them later when she had time. The next day, she realized her mistake and frantically ran after the Magi with gifts for the child, still clutching her broom. But it was too late – the Magi were long gone. Let us not be too busy to meet Christ in our neighbors. Let us not be a Befana.
The last two popes chose names that pointed out what their main concern in their ministry would be. Pope Francis took the name of a man who advocated for the poor among us. Pope Leo XIV took the name of the pope who advocated for dignity of the workers in the world. Pope Leo XIII wrote the first encyclical speaking of the dignity of workers. His encyclical Rerum Novarum spoke of how the church should be an instrument for change in the world. Pope Leo XIV, in his encyclical Magnifica Humanitas , addresses his concern for the use of AI in our world. AI used in the correct way can be of benefit to humanity. Used in the wrong way, AI can lead to taking away the humanity of people. He uses two images to speak of AI. AI used in the wrong way can be like the Tower of Babel. The Tower of Babel, as found in the book of Genesis, was a tower built by people who sought glory for themselves. They had a single technology, a single goal all directed toward themselves without a concern for God. They started out united and the project caused division. Here is how Pope Leo puts it in his encyclical: The result is not unity, but dispersion. Babel thus reveals the limits of any effort that, however grandiose, arises from self-affirmation, sacrifices human dignity for efficiency and aspires to reach heaven without God’s blessing. The second image is taken from the book of Nehemiah, where the walls of Jerusalem were rebuilt. This is the image for the correct use of AI -- a technology that unites people, with God at the center, and preserves the dignity of the human person. Again, Pope Leo: It is an undertaking with God at the center, which rebuilds relationships before rebuilding with stones. Thus, ancient Jerusalem rediscovers a common language -- not one of uniformity, but one of communion, namely the harmony that arises when all persons assume their own role and recognize that their strength comes from the Lord. The pope expresses concern that AI may be used in ways that deny the unique nature of humans. As we go forward, we need to decide what we will build: will we build a Tower of Babel or the city of Jerusalem? The Pope ends his reflections by giving Mary’s song, the Magnificat , as the example on how we go forward: With the same faith as Mary, let us become “weavers of hope” in our world, sharing who we are and what we have, so that the presence of Jesus may grow among us and his Kingdom take shape. In the humble fidelity of daily life, even the era of AI can become a time in which the Holy Spirit brings about the civilization of love in our lives. Indeed, the Lord continues to make all things new and offers every era the possibility of becoming part of salvation history in the light of the Incarnation. I entrust our desire to the Mother of Christ, to the Woman of the Magnificat, that she may guide our steps through this time of change and preserve in each of us true faith in the Gospel, so that we may bear witness to the grandeur of humanity, in which God has made his dwelling.
Jesus’ message in the Gospel passage we hear today is one of encouragement for the disciples. He has three main messages: First, proclaim the Gospel ; second, “ Do not be afraid ” — three times in this passage Jesus tells them literally “do not be afraid” — and third, God is with them; they are not abandoned . It's easy to hear and understand these messages in the context of the early Christians being persecuted and even martyred for being Christians and living the Gospel. Christians were a super-minority group that had beliefs challenging the majority. But that is not our experience today and stories of the witness of those Christians for the faith centuries and millennia ago might not ring with relevance in our contemporary experience — or do they? In 1999, our country experienced the horrific tragedy of the Columbine High School shooting. In the midst of that massacre one of the students, a 17-year-old girl named Valeen Schnurr, who had already been shot, was asked by one of the shooters if she believed in God. She was afraid to say ‘yes’, fearing they would shoot her again, but. afraid she was already dying and not wanting to deny her faith, did not want to say ‘no’. So she said, “Yes, I do believe in God.” Asked by the shooter, “Why?” she said, “Because I do, and because my mom and dad have taught me.” Would any of us have the courage to respond similarly? I pray so. What an incredible modern-day witness to the faith we profess when we say, “I believe in God the Father Almighty...”. And what a witness to the faith we profess in the Rite of Christian Baptism of infants when we pray for the parents, saying, “you are this child’s first teachers of the faith; may you be the best of teachers.” Persecution takes many forms, from oppression to repression to physical violence, kidnappings and, yes, even killings. Many Christians around the world still experience persecution, especially in North Korea, the Middle East, other parts of Asia, and in several countries in Africa. We have parishioners at St. Mary’s with relatives in Syria, who report to them of the struggles of the Christian church there, where the Christian population is about a quarter to a third of the size it was 15 years ago. Many have fled to be able to live and profess their belief in our Lord Jesus Christ. Would we have the courage to persist in practicing our faith where it is difficult to do so, or the courage to leave home to find a place where we can? As real as this persecution for the faith is in the world today, it is not our contemporary experience in the United States. For this we can be grateful to our county’s founding fathers and the freedom of religion won for us and preserved to this day. This does not mean, however, that we are insulated from persecution here and now in the US for proclaiming and living the Gospel truths Jesus gave us. For us in the United States today, it is more likely to take the form of ridicule for standing up for the Gospel message of love, compassion, peace and mercy. We might experience it in standing up for the poor and marginalized, whom many do not see as deserving of support and mercy, seeing their situations as just consequences of their own bad decisions. We might experience it in advocating for peace, amidst clamor for war. When military action in Venezuela and the war in Iran began earlier this year, our Holy Father Pope Leo XIV spoke out publicly and with increasing directness in advocating for peace and against the growing use of military force in resolving situations. Pope Leo was not expressing his opinions but proclaiming and applying the Gospel message of peace, communion, and respect for human life to our current contemporary situation, as shepherd of the Gospel. For that he was roundly criticized and ridiculed by leaders of our country. Yet he had the courage to speak these Gospel truths to power, believing he has no other mandate, saying “As a shepherd, I cannot be in favor of war”. What are the ways we might be called to proclaim the Gospel in the face of persecution? How do our lives make that proclamation, using words when necessary? Do we have the courage to make that proclamation, the courage of so many martyrs, the courage of Valeen Schnurr, the courage of Pope Leo XIV, the courage of so many of our brothers and sisters around us? And can we find that courage in Jesus’ encouragement : “Do not be afraid. I am with you always.”
