St. Thomas the Apostle Parish

Homily for the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary

A teacher was testing the children in her CCD class to see if they understood the concept of getting to Heaven. She asked them, "If I sold my house and my car, had a big garage sale, and gave all my money to the church, would that get me into Heaven?"

"NO!" the children answered.

She then asked, "If I cleaned the church every day, mowed the yard, and kept everything neat and tidy, would that get me into Heaven?"

Again, the answer from the whole class was, "NO!"

So she asked, "Well, then, if I was kind to animals and gave candy to all the children, and loved my husband, would that get me into Heaven? 

Again, they all answered, "NO!"

She said, "Well then, how can I get into Heaven?" A six-year-old boy shouted out, “You have to be dead!”

We have a lot of jokes about Heaven, I suspect because somewhere in our heads is the constant question about what happens after we die. Every religion has to have answers to this ultimate question. Not so much why do we have to die but, what happens after death? Today’s feast is about what happens after death. It is also a key to what is happening in our life.

If you look at Mary's life as recorded in the Gospels there is nothing special about it. It is a life of faith, not vision. It is only Divine Revelation that lets us look at the hidden glory of her life. Revelation tells us that at her death she was assumed body and soul into heaven, the first person to share in the resurrection of Jesus.

Because of Christ's resurrection and Mary's assumption we have hope that our death is a beginning, but also that in our life we can look back from that vantage point and find the infinite in the finite. There is so much more going on in our life than we can see or understand or even imagine. When Mary conceived Jesus in her womb she had a life within her life. Every woman who has conceived must have experienced this—a life within her life. This seems to me to be a model of the Christian life: We have a life within our life. We have the life of God within our life. We have to be attentive to the life we bear, nurture it, and bring forth its fruit. Nothing is as it seems. Death is life, suffering is redemptive, mortality becomes immortality.+

Homily for the 19th Sunday in Ordinary Time

In her book entitled Now This, longtime ABC News correspondent Judy Muller writes about how, in struggling to establish her career and raise two teenage daughters alone, she found herself slipping into alcoholism. With the help of Alcoholics Anonymous, she was able to deal successfully with her problem.

While most members of AA choose to keep their problem confidential, Ms. Muller gave up her cloak of anonymity when confronted with a different sort of choice.

One day, shortly after becoming sober, she was covering a political convention. There, she met with a group of women correspondents for breakfast and to swap short stories. Someone in the group started joking about 12-step recovery groups and the others joined in.

Ms. Muller wrote of the incident: "At that moment I suddenly knew I had a choice to make: I could laugh along, or I could say something that might alter the way these women thought about the subject and, more importantly, the way they wrote and reported about it.

And so, Ms. Muller joined the conversation and said, "I know these groups must seem silly, with what you call their bumper-sticker philosophy. And I'm certainly not the kind of person who gets caught up in new-age, self-help, sentimental sop. But I'm here to tell you that these groups save millions of lives." The group was silent and then Ms. Muller plunged on. She said, "I know because one saved mine."

Ms. Muller said that glib remarks gave way to genuine remorse and then, genuine interest. She said that she never regretted the choice of speaking up that morning or the choice that she makes every day, to live fully the life that God has given to her.

When we possess the love of Christ, we are able to see life through Christ's prism of love, humility and mercy. And that makes a big difference in the manner in which we respond to the people around us — even when they are acting rudely and in ignorance. Just as AA became "bread" for July Muller, just as Judy became "bread" for others in her gentle defense of AA, the breath of God's life in us enables us to become "bread" for others just as Jesus was "bread" for us. Jesus, the "Bread of Life,” gave life to the world through His selfless compassion and humble service toward others.[1] We can do the same thing when we embrace the spirit of Jesus. And when we do this, we look beyond our own needs and desires to the needs of the less fortunate among us, those that live in material or even spiritual poverty.

We are called upon to be the Body of Christ on earth, to give others spiritual nourishment in the name of Jesus who first gave to us the Bread of Life. To do this, we need to treat others as Jesus would treat them. We need to have the eyes of Jesus, that we may see past the things that might impel us to turn away from others; to see the goodness and the dignity that dwells in each person, that we might see in every person we meet, the image of God, and that we might help them to see the Spirit of God dwelling within themselves.  

 

[1] Cormier, Jay, Ed., Connections, MediaWorks, Londonderry, NH, August 2000, p2.

Homily for the 18th Sunday in Ordinary Time

One day, a man was walking through a field, deep in meditation and reflection. He stood in awe before a huge oak tree, reflecting on the tiny acorns lying around the base of the tree — the ones that had fallen off in the wind. He looked across the fence at a huge field of pumpkins, each one growing on a tiny vine. Suddenly, he had a thought. He said to himself, “God must have made a mistake! Why should huge pumpkins grow on tiny vines and tiny acorns grow on huge trees? It doesn’t make much sense.”

Just then, there was a small wisp of wind and a tiny acorn fell from the tree and landed on top of the man’s head. He smiled a little, looking at the acorn and then at a pumpkin, and said, “Maybe God got it right after all.”

In our Gospel reading today, we hear of people coming to Jesus unsure of what it is that they want from Him. They think they want bread like they received in our Gospel last week. But Jesus tells them that they don’t need physical food from Him. Rather, they need spiritual food; that which will nourish their souls and that, ultimately, it is this spiritual nourishment that matters most. That is the kind of nourishment that will lead to eternal life.

The people then ask for something that is a kind of “pet peeve” of Jesus in His ministry: they seek some sort of sign. They have doubts about who Jesus is and what He can give them. They seek a sign just as Moses sought a sign; just as their ancestors sought signs from God. They questioned God. Their faith was weak.

The man who was questioning why pumpkins grow on tiny vines while acorns grow on huge trees also had a lack of faith in the power and wisdom of God. He needed a sign — an acorn falling on his head instead of a pumpkin — to restore his faith, to help him believe that the wisdom of God is without fault.

Jesus tells the people in today’s Gospel passage that they do not need a sign. He says that He is the bread that comes down from heaven; that those who rely on Him, who seek to know Him, will never hunger or thirst, that is, they will always know the love, compassion and generosity of God. No signs or wonders are needed when one has a strong relationship with Jesus, when one allows Jesus to be an active part of every facet of one’s life.

There is a story of a man and his young son who went on a camping trip in the mountains. They hired an experienced guide who brought them into the heart of a great forest and beautiful spots in the mountains that they would never have been able to find themselves.

The guide, who was old and wise, was constantly pointing out beauty and wonders that the mere passer-by would never notice. The young boy was fascinated by the guide’s ability to see so much in the surroundings. At one point the young boy said to the guide, “You see so much. I’ll bet you even see God out there.” The old man smiled and said, “As life goes on, it’s getting hard for me to see anything but God out there.”

All who go to Jesus will never hunger or thirst. A close relationship with Jesus keeps us from needing signs and wonders to prove that God is with us; to prove that God loves us. For people who are close to Jesus, no hardship can shake their faith. For people who are not close to Jesus, no sign or wonder can build their faith. Jesus asks us to stay close to Him and to witness his love in so many ordinary ways. It is there that we see the miracle of God’s love.

May our eyes and our hearts be always open to that love and may our dedication be a sign to all the world of our faith in Christ.

Homily for the 17th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Several years ago, I watched part of a documentary that followed the family of an elderly woman who lived in Appalachia in the South. The film crew gave glimpses and insights as they followed the family for a year. The woman had a number of children, most of whom still lived in the poverty in which they were brought up. They were now raising their children as they were raised.

The film focussed on family interactions, their lives together, their arguments, and various struggles that each member of the family was experiencing. Underlying much of the documentary was the dream that many of the people had of "escaping" to a better way of life or just to find work. Most of them tried this but they always came back.

As one of the members of the family, an eighteen-year-old grandson, was mulling over the possibility of moving away and finding work, many in the family were trying to dissuade him from leaving. The grandmother was more philosophical in her response. The cameras were on her as she was placing a huge plate of cinnamon rolls on the table and she said that anybody could leave if they wanted to and if they wanted to come back, that was fine, too, there was always plenty of food on the table.

This was actually something I noticed throughout the film: despite their intense poverty, the family always had food on the table and it was there because together they used the land and the gifts God gave them to produce the food.

In our Gospel reading today, we hear the famous story of how Jesus fed a huge crowd of people with food that was barely enough to feed one person. The miracle that Jesus performed spoke to a reality deeper than filling our bellies. It speaks to the power of God in our lives and the fact that God can truly take care of all of our needs — both physical and spiritual.

In that documentary that I watched there was something else that the members of the family received — there was the love and support of family and friends, which was most often evident when they were at table. While they did fight and argue and disagree, there was evident a strong bond that could be called nothing other than love.

And love is what God really wants to bring us. It is what God wants us to offer one another. Through our offering of love to one another, we feed the souls of people just as Jesus fed the hungry masses. We take our meager talents and offerings, and, with the love and power of God, we can transform the world; we can be instruments of God satisfying the spiritual hunger of the people of God.

And that's what we are doing here in this Church today, gathered together at this altar to share in the One Bread and the One Chalice, the Body and Blood of Jesus our Savior. We are nourishing ourselves with a tiny piece of bread and a small sip of wine. But it is neither bread nor wine that we take. It is our Salvation. It is the food and drink of everlasting life. And the meal doesn't end at this table. We are called to go out and be the Body and Blood of Christ for those who do not believe, for those who feel alienated, for those who have lost hope. We are called to go out and to let others know that there is always plenty of food at this altar, there is always plenty of food when we gather together in prayer and in service of God and one another.

 As Christians, we're not simply called to show up and eat every Sunday; we're also called to bring others to the Table of the Lord, to share in this meal, and to share in the love that God has given to us.+

Homily for the 16th Sunday in Ordinary Time

A woman tumbled off her deck one day, breaking her arm and tearing her rotator cuff. Toward the end of her long and painful rehabilitation, her doctor recommended that she take up some activity to work the small muscles in her hand to keep them from atrophying. She asked if she should resume her knitting again and the doctor said that would be perfect.

She had been knitting off and on for nearly 30 years, but was not very good at it; plus she thought the demands of family and career made time much too precious to spend knitting.

But, "under doctor's orders," she took up her needles once again. She came to enjoy the soothing motion of the needles, the exhilaration of putting together a project and seeing it come to life beneath her hands.

She found that she did some of her best thinking as she knitted, jotting down notes on a pad she kept nearby. And she liked the way she felt while knitting: calm and serene, untroubled by the restless boredom that normally plagued her whenever she tried to sit still.

Her spirit rose to the challenge of creating something and anticipating the joy of those who would be warmed by the sweaters, hats, and scarfs she would make.

She continued knitting long after her arm and shoulder healed. What began as orthopedic therapy became her spiritual practice.

She said that “the making of crafts is soul work. In the midst of complexity, handicrafts provide simplicity, in the midst of movement and noise, they make space for silence and solitude.”

“Their slower rhythms are the rhythms of the earth itself,” she said. “In doing them, we connect to our deepest selves and to all the generations of craftspeople who came before us, creating warmth and beauty with the humble work of their hands."

We all need "soul work" a "holy, out­of-the-way place." where we can escape the clamor of the marketplace and the tyranny of our calendars and things­to-do lists to experience the peace of being alone with God, to listen to the voice of God in the quiet of our hearts, to know the "holy," "soulful" joy of doing simple, humble things for others.

Jesus invites 's to create spaces for prayer in our lives and make quiet time in our days to re-center our lives in the life and love of God.+

Homily for the 15th Week in Ordinary Time

“Zits” is the daily newspaper comic strip by Jerry Scott and Jim Borgman that chronicles the foibles and angst of being a teenager and, of course, being the parents of teenagers.

In a strip a number of years ago, 15-year-old Sara is having a bad hair day ­ a very bad hair day. "I hate my hair!" Sara screams. "I swear, I should just cut it off and start all over!"

Her mother calmly suggests, "That's a great idea, Sara! I know some people who would like to have it."

"Are you kidding? Who would want to be stuck with a whole head of this stuff?" Sara demands to know, pointing to her unruly mop.

Her Mom hands Sara a brochure for "Locks of Love," an organization that makes wigs for kids with cancer.

"Wow, this is amazing!" Sara says as she reads the pamphlet. "So, this 'Locks of Love' organization would use my hair to make wigs for kids with cancer."

"Or with other types of medical hair loss," her mom explains. "That way your problem becomes somebody else's solution."

Sara is deeply moved by the pictures and stories in the brochure. Humbled and a little embarrassed, Sara becomes very quiet and thoughtful for what seems like an eternity. "Are you okay, Sara?" her Mom finally asks. Sara says quietly, "I think I'm having a maturity moment."

Thomas Merton wrote that a child only begins to become an
adult when the child realizes he or she' is not the center of the
universe. Christ calls us to embrace such moments of "maturity" - precious moments when we manage to put aside our own needs, 
problems and wants for the sake of the more critical needs of
another; rare moments when we realize that we are not the center
of the world but a part of a world much greater than ourselves,
that we are connected to everyone through the dignity we all share
as sons and daughters of God; holy moments when our disappointments and hurts at what life has handed us are transformed into gratitude to God for the gift of life itself.

As Christ sends us forth to do the work of discipleship, may he open our hearts and minds to such "maturity moments," enabling us to be disciples of his compassion and healing along our journeys to the dwelling place of God.+

Homily for the 14th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Author Timothy Gallwey tells a story about how one cold winter night he was driving from Maine to New Hampshire. It was around midnight, and he was on a deserted country road. Suddenly, his car hit an icy curve and slammed into a snowbank. After that, he was unable to get the car started again.

It was about twenty degrees below zero, and he wasn’t appropriately dressed to be outside. His only protection was a light jacket. It had been more than twenty minutes since he passed through a town, and he hadn’t seen another car or even a farmhouse since that town. He had no map, and he had no idea how far it was to the next town.

He got out of his car and started running down the road, but the cold quickly drained his energy and, after about two minutes, he slowed down to a walk. Within another minute or two, his ears were so cold that he thought they would break if he touched them. So he tried to run again but quickly slowed down to a walk.

Then the gravity of the situation struck him. He could picture himself lying by the roadside covered with snow, frozen to death. The very thought paralyzed him with fear. Finally, he found himself speaking aloud, and he said, “Okay, if now is the time, so be it.” With that, he stopped worrying about death, and he began jogging down the road.

After a few minutes of rhythmic jogging, he found himself marveling at the beauty of the star-filled sky and the snow-covered countryside. He jogged for a full forty minutes and stopped when he saw the light of a farmhouse. Miraculously, he had survived the cold.

In our second reading today, we hear the voice of God say to St. Paul: “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.” This sounds like an incredible paradox. How can power be made perfect in weakness? Timothy Gallwey’s story illustrates just how this is the case.

When we recognize that we are helpless without God and without the gifts and talents that God has given us, we’re able to do incredible things that we would never be able to do if we saw ourselves as doing it all alone. God gives us many gifts, abilities, and tremendous energy, but we can use them only when we put aside our conscious efforts and let the life of the soul take over.

Paul reinforces the message of God with his own words when he says, “When I am weak, then I am strong.” Paul is speaking about how, when he recognized his limitations and relied on God, then he opened himself to the power of God that is always available and always active in our lives. In other words, we need to be humble, be weak, and have moments of crisis if we are going to turn to God for help and then be empowered to deal with whatever life hands us.

It was eighty-two years ago today that Lou Gehrig gathered with his teammates and an emotional crowd at Yankee Stadium as they bid him farewell after his diagnosis with ALS – a disease which now bears his name. In his brief speech to the crowd, Gehrig acknowledged that some thought he had been cheated somehow by the disease that ended his career and would soon end his life, but he said that he had much for which to be thankful. That was a moment of grace, of acknowledging that God has given us all that we have and, even during struggle and pain and tragedy, God’s goodness and grace are still present in our midst.      

I’d like to close with a poem that was written by an unknown Confederate Soldier during the Civil War:

 

I asked for health,

that I might do greater things;

I was given infirmity,

that I might do better things…

I asked for riches, that I might be happy;

I was given poverty, that I might be wise…

I asked for power,

that I might have the praise of [people];

I was given weakness,

that I might feel the need of God…

I asked for all things, that I might enjoy life;

I was given life, that I might enjoy all things…

I got nothing I asked for,

but everything I hoped for.

Almost despite myself,

my unspoken prayers were answered.

I am among all [people] most richly blessed.

Homily for the 13th Sunday in Ordinary Time

A Benedictine Monk talks about how he looks at the bulletin board every morning before prayer. The items he pays most attention to are the requests for prayers. They come from all over and are about almost everything. There is a regular "prayer client" who mentions various intentions. One time, in her list, she mentioned the need for prayers for someone who was seriously ill. The following day, she left a message saying, "No need to pray for (him); he's already dead."

As Catholics, as Christians, we pray for both the living and the dead. In the story of the woman who told the monks not to bother praying for the person who had died, there is a common thread with today's Gospel passage from St. Mark. 

In the story, we encounter Jairus, the official of the synagogue, who didn't hesitate to pray for his daughter's healing. Upon arriving at the house, the people told him not to bother Jesus any longer because the girl had died. But Jesus told the father, "Do not be afraid; just have faith." He continued to express his faith in Jesus, and his daughter was raised back to life. Jesus performed a miracle with the faith of Jairus. 

God's Word for us today helps us to examine certain traits of our faith relationship with the LORD.

The first trait is that the way to healing in Jesus is through faith in Him, and we express our faith in our prayers. The girl's father was not discouraged by the report of his daughter's death and kept hoping against hope that God would answer his prayer. Despite the understandable but hopeless remarks of the people about the girl's condition, Jesus kept inspiring her father, telling him to have faith. In our relationship with God, faith paves the way for healing: certainly, spiritual healing and, sometimes, physical healing.

The second trait would be to look at death, again, from the viewpoint of the Christian faith. Some of us can relate real stories of extraordinary healings even at the point of dying. But most of us know that although our ailing loved ones did not recover and now rest in peace, we still believe in the LORD; we still believe that, on a different level, our deceased family members and friends have indeed been raised to new life in a very new way. 

In our first reading today, we heard that God's greatest desire for us is life. It isn't that God created us to be immortal like Him; we are mortal. But there are two kinds of death: physical death and spiritual death. 

We experience physical death at the end of our lease on earthly life. But we may still be physically alive while having experienced spiritual death. 

Through Jesus' Resurrection, we know, and we believe that, beyond physical death, there is eternal life with God by our faith in Christ. Yet what Satan aims at in this life is our spiritual death, our separation from God, while still alive. It is the more dangerous death that we can experience and against which we must guard ourselves. It is in this death of our spirit that Satan wants to possess us.

With bodily ailments, both kinds of death are possible. We may physically die if the illness turns deadly serious. But we could also die spiritually as we begin to despair and distrust the LORD and refuse His offer of a greater life. Illness can turn us away from God, but it can also lead to greater faith in the LORD. The faith of Jairus led to new life for his child. He serves as a model of living in faith.

May our prayer today, and always, be for spiritual life and the hope that that life can be renewed – even resurrected – by our faith in Jesus and our sincere hope that Jesus can always fill us with His powerful love – in this life and the next.+

Homily for the 12th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Throughout His ministry, Jesus performed many miracles; people even came to Him to see the miracles. Some people reacted with wonderment and then went about their business, essentially unaffected. Others, however, reacted with a genuine and deep sense of awe that opened their eyes to God's power and wisdom. And some approached the miracles with a strong faith and were open to the transforming power of these miracles.

In today's Gospel passage, Jesus and His disciples are on a boat, crossing the Sea of Galilee. The topography and the wind patterns there often cause sudden, unexpected, and dangerous storms, such as the passengers on the boat experienced that day. These storms can be treacherous and frightening. So, it is no surprise that the disciples were amazed that Jesus was fast asleep during this ordeal.

When they awakened Him and questioned His seeming lack of concern, He commanded the sea and the wind to be quiet, to be still, and both the wind and the sea obeyed His command. He then asked, "Why are you terrified? Do you not yet have faith?" His disciples responded with great awe, wondering who this was that even the winds and the sea obey.

The story of this miracle serves a couple of purposes. First, it gives Jesus' disciples and us some insight into the actual power of Jesus, that, just as His Father had tamed the waters in the Creation story, so Jesus had the power to tame them in His time. So, His power is great and all-encompassing.

This particular story, apart from the miracle, is also one of faith and trust. Here, the disciples are understandably frightened by the power of the storm, and yet Jesus is sound asleep. We can learn a lot from Jesus' reaction, or lack thereof.

We often talk about the storms of life - the challenges that we face in life. And there are many: family difficulties, financial worries, conflicts with others, tragedies, illness, the death of loved ones, and the list goes on. Sometimes, we react to these difficulties and challenges how the disciples in the boat reacted, with fear and wondering if God even cares.

But Jesus calls us to respond to these challenges with faith instead of fear. Because of His great faith, He was able to sleep through the storm, trusting that His Father would protect Him. In the end, He used the power the Father had given Him and squelched the storm and the fears of His disciples.

God gives us a similar power, a power to squelch our fears in the face of the storms of life, a power that is born of faith. Faith that God is with us throughout life's difficulties. Faith that God buoys us up when we begin to sink. Faith that when the miracles for which we pray don't materialize, God will still bring us to His kingdom, our ultimate goal.

Indeed, when we are not focused on the ultimate goal - living in heaven forever in the glory of God - the storms of this life seem frightening and overwhelming. But, as St. Paul says, "Think of what is above, not of what is on earth." [1]

From the midst of great turmoil and sadness, the Book of Lamentations says: "My life is deprived of peace, I have forgotten what happiness is. Remembering it over and over, my soul is downcast. But this I will call to mind; therefore I will hope: The LORD's acts of mercy are not exhausted, his compassion is not spent; They are renewed each morning— great is your faithfulness! The LORD is my portion, I tell myself, therefore I will hope in him."+ [2]

[1] Colossians 3:2

[2] Lamentations 3:17, 20-24

 

Homily for the 11th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Most of us don’t remember the first steps we took as toddlers but many of us might remember the first steps we took in learning to read when we were very young. It probably began with a series of cards or posters: ‘A’ is for apple, ‘B’ is for ball, ‘C’ is for cookie. And we would work so hard to learn those sounds. Once we learned to attach those sounds to the particular letter, we were able to identify groups of letters that formed words. And once we were able to "sound out" words we were able to enter the wonderful world of reading. Think about how far we've come since "see Dick and Jane run" was the height of great literature.

And then there was math. First, we had to learn to count to ten, and then we had to recognize that those numbers represented specific numbers of apples, cookies, or pennies. Then we moved on, with the help of pie tins, to fractions.

For those who are or who have been married: Do you remember the first time you met your spouse? Maybe it was a chance meeting with a simple "Hello," a few awkward words might have been exchanged, then you worked up your courage to ask for your first real date, and somehow, you connected -- a relationship began, and love blossomed. And it all started with a simple, awkward "Hello."

The great events and moments of life begin with small things: from simple beginnings and basic ideas begin life's greatest accomplishments and journeys. Humanity's dreams of peace, reconciliation, and justice will be realized, first, in simple, basic, and small acts of goodness of individual men and women. Such is the "mustard seed" of faith: that, from the smallest and humblest acts of justice, kindness, and compassion, the kingdom of God will be realized.

As Christians, each of us is called to help to bring about the kingdom of God and to lead others to the kingdom of God. This is a pretty daunting task, but we need to remember that we are not working on that task alone; we do so with all other people. And we need to remember that it is not all done at once; God’s kingdom is achieved one small step at a time. In an age where we expect things instantly, the idea of one small step at a time seems unbearable but it is the only way that we can truly answer the call to lead others to the kingdom of God. No step is too small; no movement is insignificant.

We pray today and always that we will have the faith, strength, and determination to make each small step on the journey to the kingdom of God.+