Sunday, April 16, 2017

Another Easter Vigil


Today, I had the privilege of assisting at the fourth Easter Vigil since I was ordained. I'm always grateful for the opportunity, and I try to block out the Triduum on my work calendar so I can give adequate attention to liturgy and my prayer life.

When I entered the diaconate, I was never told that liturgy can actually be exhausting. But if you take a good look at our director of liturgy after the Easter Vigil Mass (salute, General Tish), you will come to understand just how much work goes into these liturgies, and we often have to attend rehearsals for them as well. Fortunately, General Tish gives us our marching orders. We don't question her dictates. There's a joke among clergy: what's the difference between a terrorist and a liturgist?

You can negotiate with a terrorist.

That said, the clergy typically wing it anyway.

This year, I had the added privilege of seeing catechumens and candidates, whom my wife and I prepared, enter the Church. I expected to be a bit more emotional, but the demands of the Easter liturgy held my focus. There were a few moments still that gripped me: the woman (one of our neophytes) who received communion from my cup because she couldn't risk gluten contamination; the unbaptized Christian father who wanted to lead his family to the Church; the man who came for love of his wife, who I think  found more than he expected.

All of them I see as my spiritual children, and while I am grateful that they will be moving on to new roles as Catholic faithful, I will miss them after our time of mystagogy.

Thank you, Lord, for allowing us to serve you in this way.

Sunday, April 09, 2017

Palm Sunday 2017—Cycle A

            Because of the lengthy passion reading, I've been asked to keep this brief, so this will probably be the shortest homily you ever hear from me on a Sunday.
            We're living in an era and culture in which the word "love" is greatly misunderstood, greatly misused, and greatly undervalued. We love our pets. We love pizza. We love getting our nails done.
            Well, some of us do...
We have a single word for many dramatically different emotions, preferences, and actions; so I want to be really clear on what the Church and what scripture mean by the word "love."
            Love in the sense of human relationships is expressed in scripture by four different terms in Greek: phileo, which is the kind of love that friends have for each other; eros, which is romantic love; storge, which is the love expressed as natural familial affection and obligation; and agape, which we often call unconditional love.
            The last of these is what we want to address: agape. It is the highest ideation of love we have—love that gives everything. In the language of theology, love is not a feeling. Love is not about the heart palpitations and wooziness that two people feel when they are attracted to each other. Love is an act of the intellect and will, which makes it a moral act. Love does something.
            Love does something.
            The philosopher Jean Vanier made this claim about love, and if you've heard me preach at a wedding, you might remember how fond I am of this description: "To love someone is to show them their beauty, their worth, and their importance."
            "To love someone is to show them their beauty, their worth, and their importance."
Love is completely directed at the other. Not at what I get out of it, but what I give.
            Love is also in the action. Love, true unconditional agape love, is in the sacrifice that one makes for another: the sacrifice we make for our families when we work at jobs we don't like, the sacrifice we make when we volunteer long hours, the sacrifice we make when we give even when it's the hardest thing to do.
            We just reenacted an account of the most difficult sacrifice—one which we will reenact again on this altar in just a few minutes. If you want to know the true nature of love, the true measure of complete self giving, then you only have to look right up there (pointing to crucifix).
            That is what the word love means.

            That is what love is. The rest is commentary.