St. Thomas the Apostle Parish

Homily for Monday of the 1st Week in Ordinary Time

Whenever there is an interaction between two or more people, they can experience a life-giving moment. The interactions that Simon, Andrew, James, and John had with Jesus were such life-giving moments for those four fishermen; God's life-giving power was present to them in the person of Jesus. That power of God present in Jesus was the power of love, a love that promised forgiveness, healing, acceptance, a love that gave them a mission in life.

The kind of encounter that Simon, Andrew, James, and John had with Jesus is offered to each one of us as well. Jesus is not just a figure from history, existing only in the past. He is the living LORD, still here with His Church and the world, continually calling us and interacting with us in the course of our daily lives, just as He encountered the four fishermen as they were going about their daily work.

The LORD encounters us, and He speaks to us through the Sacraments, especially in the celebration of the Eucharist, through Scriptures, through people we meet, through nature, and from deep within our souls. Each time we encounter the LORD, we hear the Good News of God's unconditional love for us. We also hear the call to mission, the call to be good news for others, to be the LORD's body in the world; His feet, His hands, His mouth, His eyes, His ears. "Come after me, and I will make you fishers of [people]." This morning we pray for the grace to be as open and responsive to the LORD's presence and call as were Simon, Andrew, James, and John.+

Homily for the Baptism of the LORD

St. Mark describes a powerful moment in today's Gospel: A popular, gentle, and thoughtful man named John asks people who would admit to their sinfulness and wanted to change their lives to come forward and be baptized. Many did, stepping into the Jordan River where John plunged them into the water, then back to the surface, re-born and reinvigorated with a renewed sense of mission and calling.

 

In the crowd stands a carpenter. He, too, enters the river and is plunged into the water by John. According to St. Mark, there is no dramatic scene as movie versions of this story would have us believe. Instead, St. Mark says only that Jesus saw the heavens open and the Spirit, like a dove, descending upon Him, and He heard God saying He was pleased with Him. While this scene loses a dramatic effect by being a private revelation to Jesus, it gains much when we think about today's reading from Isaiah. Like Jesus, who knew those words so well, we can recognize that He was fulfilling the prophet's words, that He was the messianic servant promised by God. 

 

The incident must have been quite comforting to Jesus' human nature, knowing that all those inner promptings came from His Father. It must have given Him the courage He needed to begin His complicated mission.

 

    Our Gospel passage teaches us what is expected of a servant of God. John is doing what God calls him to do: inviting people to repent, accept their sinfulness, and be washed clean in the water of life. He accepts no credit for being a great person. He tells everyone who listens that his Baptism will be replaced by the Baptism of Him who is to come. His concern is not himself but of his mission, which is to serve others. 

 

In Coventry, England, a beautiful modern cathedral has been built on the site of a great medieval edifice that stood there for over 600 years until bombs destroyed it during World War II. The new cathedral is connected to the ruins of the old cathedral. 

 

Guides tell the story of the day when the cross was welded to the top of the new cathedral's lantern; a crowd gathered to watch. As the welder ascended to the lantern, he realized that the scaffolding was not high enough. So, he returned to the ground and announced that they would have to wait until higher scaffolding was erected. 

 

Out of the crowd stepped a broad-shouldered man who asked the welder if he could work standing on a man's shoulders. While the crowd watched in amazement, the two men climbed to the top of the cathedral, and the one held the other perfectly still on his shoulders while he welded the cross in place. 

 

The people watched as the welder finished and stepped down to the scaffolding. When he was safely on his own feet, the man who had been holding him collapsed and lay motionless. Other workers quickly ascended the scaffold and carried the unconscious man to the ground where they discovered that he was burned terribly from the molten lead that had dripped all over his shoulders and arms. 

 

He made a tremendous gesture, walked forward to do a marvelous thing, and carried through to the end of it despite the suffering inflicted upon him by his choice. 

 

How like John the Baptist this young man was. He probably thought only to do one thing, hold a man on his shoulders for awhile, but once he had committed himself, he had to stand fast while molten lead dropped on him. But he saw it through to the end as John did. 

 

   And if John's life teaches us this lesson, so too does Jesus, who carries the lesson further. He, sinless, accepted the sins of humankind and began a salvific journey that ended on Good Friday as he was nailed to the Cross for our sins.

 

   The commemoration of the Baptism of Jesus should be for all of us, one of those loving calls from God to repentance. He wants us to be more grateful for the life He has given us. And He wants us to keep our eyes and hearts fixed on the future he has earned for us. If we keep that future before us, our earthly troubles will appear in their true light - as bumps but not deterrents to the life to come. 

 

If we trust that our Baptism, like Christ's, was a moment in which God said, "In you, I am well pleased." Then we will have the courage to live the Gospel in our lives, helping those in need and recognizing that our role is an important one as we move closer to the kingdom of heaven.+

 

Homily for Saturday After Epiphany

In today’s Gospel passage, the disciples of John the Baptist seem concerned about the attention that Jesus is getting, that, perhaps He is stealing some of John’s thunder. But John, in a spirit of humility and a spirit of joy, restates that he is not the Christ and that he was merely sent before Him to announce His coming. John understood that his mission was not about himself, that his role was to be a herald, alerting people to the coming of our Savior.

We need to remember this same lesson and emulate the same humility as did John the Baptist. The mission that we are given is not so much about ourselves, but the service of others and the glory of God. It is only with a genuine understanding, appreciation, and acceptance of this that we can pray the words that John said today, “He must increase; I must decrease.”+

Homily for Friday After Epiphany

The request that the leper makes of Jesus — “If you wish, you can make me clean.” — is a challenge to us who now seek to follow Jesus. We possess within ourselves the resources to heal and restore our relationships with others — what is needed first is the will to put aside our own fears and doubts and interests to do so.

Christ promises us the grace to be imitators of His compassion and forgiveness whenever we are ready to take the first step in healing the wounds and cleaning the metaphorical "leprosy" that afflicts us and divides us from one another.+

Homily for Thursday After Epiphany

In today’s Gospel passage, we find Jesus in the synagogue in Nazareth telling the people what His ministry was going to be all about. First of all, He announced the LORD’S favor; He would reveal God’s loving favor for all people, but especially for those who were often out of favor with others: the poor, the captives, the blind and disabled, the downtrodden. We might add to that list: the lost, sinners, widows, and all who found themselves on the margins of society for whatever reason.

Jesus was announcing that He was about to reveal the generosity of God, a generosity that was as all-encompassing as God’s love. This was, indeed, good news. Strangely, however, this good news was not well received by the people of His hometown. Later in this story, the townspeople were ready to hurl Him down from the brow of a hill. It seems as if Jesus’ God was just too much for the people of Nazareth, too hospitable, too welcoming, too forgiving, too all-embracing, too generous.

Just as He did to His fellow Nazarenes, Jesus challenges our image of God. Yet, because He proclaims the favor and hospitality of God, He has the power to transform us: to enrich us in our poverty, to bring us freedom where we are captive, to give us sight in the many ways that we are blind, to restore our sense of belonging to the LORD after we have been lost.+

Homily for Wednesday after Epiphany

In today's Gospel passage, we see that after He fed the five thousand, Jesus withdrew to the mountain to pray. Although He went off by Himself, His prayer did not separate Him from His disciples. Actually, it made Him more sensitive to the needs of others and the difficulties they experienced. While praying, Jesus saw that His disciples, who were at sea, were struggling against the wind and exhausted from rowing. So, He left His prayer and went to them on the waters and spoke words of support to them, "Take courage," He said, "it is I, do not be afraid."

 

Our passage demonstrates that while Jesus was in communion with God the Father, He remained in communion with people in need. That is true of us as well. In prayer, we open ourselves to God's presence; we become attuned to the LORD who is present to us, but we also find ourselves thinking of others, feeling with, and for others.

 

This makes sense because the LORD, whom we approach in prayer, is full of love for others; as we draw near to Him in prayer, we will be drawn into His concern for others.

 

Indeed, much of our prayer tends to be intercessory prayer — prayer for others and their needs, and our needs as well. Genuine prayer deepens our communion with God and our communion with others, especially those who, like the disciples in today's Gospel passage, struggle with and are battling the storms that they encounter in this life.+

Homily for the Memorial of St. John Neumann

In the encounter we witness in this morning’s Gospel passage, Jesus struggled to get His disciples to become trusting, generous givers, people who work to create results that help those in need.

 

Faced with a large, hungry crowd, rather than find a way to help them, Jesus’ disciples asked Him to send the people away to fend for themselves. But Jesus asked for a different approach, “Give them some food yourselves.” He was saying, “Take some responsibility for these needy people; don’t just wish them away.” He pushed His disciples into doing something for the people, no matter how small. Eventually, they found five loaves and two fish, minimal resources indeed. But with those few resources, they fed the crowd.

 

According to Jesus, the willingness to do something, no matter how small it may seem, the readiness to give something, no matter how little it is, can bear rich fruit. The LORD can take our giving, no matter how small, and do great things through it. The Gospel encourages us to be giving people, even when we seem to have little to offer and the situation we are facing seems beyond us. He will see that our efforts will bear fruit.+

Homily for the Memorial of St. Elizabeth Ann Seton

Elizabeth Ann Bayley was born in New York City on August 28, 1774, to a well-known and influential family and raised as an Episcopalian. Her mother died when Elizabeth was only three years old.

 

In 1794, at the age of 19, Elizabeth married William Magee Seton, a wealthy businessman. Together, they had five children. But only about nine years after their marriage, while living in Italy, William died of tuberculosis in 1803, leaving Elizabeth a young widow. After discovering Catholicism in Italy, Elizabeth returned to the United States and entered the Catholic Church in 1805 in New York City

 

The next few years were quite difficult. In 1809, Elizabeth moved to Emmitsburg, Maryland. There she founded the Sisters of Charity of St. Joseph, the first community for religious women established in the United States. She also began St. Joseph’s Academy and Free School, sowing the seeds of Catholic education in the United States.

 

Mother Seton, as she is often called, was canonized on Sunday, September 14, 1975, in St. Peter’s Square by Pope Paul VI. She was the first person born in what would become the United States to be given the title of “Saint.” Her remains are entombed in Emmitsburg, Maryland in the Basilica at the National Shrine that bears her name.

 

Let us pray that, like Mother Seton, our faith will guide us and support us during difficult times, and lead us to work for the good of others.+

Homily for the Epiphany of the LORD

Most of us would agree that the most difficult part of Christmas shopping is deciding on the perfect gift for each person on our list, what best expresses our love and care for each person, what will bring delight and joy to those we love? Once we know the gift, the trek to the mall is considerably easier.

So what were the Magi thinking in the gifts they brought to the Christ Child on that first day of Epiphany? Did they just wrap up what they happened to have with them in their baggage? Were their gifts the expected offerings given to a king — or someone perceived as a king — given with as much thought as a bottle of wine or a Christmas fruitcake?

Or do the three gifts express something special about this Child that these men of learning had come to realize?

First, the gift of gold: Well, they say you can never go wrong with money. But, in antiquity, gold was more than currency. Gold, then the most valuable metal on earth, was a symbol of divinity. It was the ultimate gift, the perfect offering to royalty. This Child, who would be betrayed for silver, came to transform our perspective of wealth, to treasure again the things of God: compassion, forgiveness and peace are the currency of the realm of the newborn King.

The gift of frankincense: Frankincense comes from a small tree found only in Arabia and parts of northern Africa. The hardened resin of the plant was widely used as a medicine for many ailments: it was applied to stop bleeding and to heal wounds; it was used as an antidote for poisons and as a soothing salve for bruises, ulcerations, and paralyzed limbs. This Child came to restore and heal not just the physical ailments of those He would meet on his Gospel journey, but to heal humankind of our fears and doubts, to bridge the chasms that separate us from one another and from God.

And the gift of myrrh: Myrrh was an expensive extract from the resin of the myrrh tree. It, too, was used as a medicine but, more significantly, it was used in embalming the dead. Only the very wealthy and members of royalty were embalmed; myrrh, therefore, was a gift reserved for kings. This Child came to recreate us in the life of God: His death was the defeat of death, His cross will be His — and our — glory.

The three gifts of the Magi are a Gospel unto themselves: they honor the Child who is Himself a gift from the God whose love is beyond our comprehension, whose goodness knows neither limit nor condition. May we carry these gifts with us in the year ahead as we follow Christ the Morning Star on the journey to Jerusalem and beyond.

Homily for the Memorial of Saints Basil the Great and Gregory Nazianzen

The question put before John the Baptist, “Who are you?” is one of the great questions of life. We may struggle to answer honestly or fully, “Who am I?” It’s easy to reply at a certain level by telling people what we do for a living, “I am an engineer,” or perhaps, “I am retired.” However, going deeper than our job description to who we are in our innermost selves is a much more difficult task. It can be said that our answer to that deeper question changes as we move through life. How we answer it at this present moment in our lives is not how we would have answered it earlier in our lives nor how we will answer it in the future.

For people of faith, the answer to that question is inextricably linked to our relationship with Jesus, because that relationship touches us at our core being. Saint Paul is the great example of that truth: If he was asked, “Who are you?” he probably would answer in the words of his letter to the Galatians, “I live, no longer I, but Christ lives in me.” His identity had become strongly connected to the identity of Christ. When John the Baptist was asked, “Who are you?” in today’s gospel passage, he identified himself as “the voice of one that cries out in the desert, ‘Make straight the way of the LORD.’” His identity was formed by his relationship with Jesus. He is the voice who gives witness to the Word that became flesh. Our own baptismal calling is to keep on growing into Christ so that our personal identity is more and more formed by our relationship with Him. +