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Homily
for May 5, 2002 St. Paul writes: to anyone who asks you for a reason for your hope..."
You are here.....
I am here.....
Again.....
Why are we here? Why do we keep coming back? What explanation can we give for a reasons for our hope,
a reason for our being here? Well, YOU are
the biggest reason for my hope! Whatever it might be that keeps you faithful to our
gathering for prayer, YOU are the reason for my hope. All of you show me,
you LIVE for me the very faithfulness of Jesus himself. If you went away,
if you did not come together for prayer,
if our church began to empty out,
my hope would be severely wounded. The scriptures are also a reason for my hope. Year in, year out; week
in, week out,
the word of the Lord speaks to us: it challenges us, it
comforts us, it calls us beyond
ourselves. In the scriptures we hear the voice of the Lord:
in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health,
in pain and in joy. This weekend,
a married couple
in our parish celebrated their 35th wedding anniversary
and they chose to began the party here, in church,
with their family and friends,
asking me to invite God's blessing
on their 35 years of faithfulness and love. Even in these troubled times, in their moment of joyous
celebration,
they asked the church to bless their happiness,
and they became another reason for my hope. Last week the young men and women of our parish
and St. Bernard Parish were confirmed. They chose to stand before a bishop of the Catholic church
with their sponsor and parents as witnesses,
and they were anointed with chrism
and they completed their initiation
as Roman Catholic Christians - and they gave me over 60 reasons for my hope. You've seen in the bulletin our schedule for baptisms and
first communions. Parents are bringing their babies to make them members
of the Catholic family of faith. Parents of second graders are bringing their children
so that they might take their place at the Lord's table
and be in communion with us,
and with the hope we find in them
whose innocence is a blessing to behold. After they receive their first Communion, the children
join me in front of the altar,
and I lead them in singing,
"I've got that joy, joy,
joy down in my heart...
and I want to share it with you!" And I have to keep myself from shouting out
that this is how priests and children
are meant to be together:
in prayer, in joy, in trust, in Jesus. The 48 children who are making their first communion
and their parents who present them,
are reasons for my hope. In my appointment book are the names of people who come to me for counseling and spiritual direction- and it gives me hope that the crisis in our church
has not precluded my ministry as one which people can approach
with the burdens and pain and heartbreak they carry. And these people give me reason for my hope. Last Sunday night over 100 people came to our "listening"
session
on the crisis in the church. On Wednesday night 65 of them returned
to discuss the formation of a chapter of Voice of the Faithful in our
parish. That's over 165 reasons for my hope! The generous outreach of our parish community:
to the Family Life Center in Boston; to Lazarus House in Lawrence;
to those in need in Concord;
to the people of Fond des Blancs in Haiti;
to the St. Bonaventure Navajo Mission in New Mexico;
to Spring House; to the Crop Walk; to the Walk for Life;
to the parish baby shower; to
the food pantry; to Concord Prison Outreach;
the work of our parish St. Vincent de Paul Society;
the work of our parish Social Action and Justice Commission;
the harvest of the Green Team from fields in Lincoln... all these are reasons for my hope as a Roman Catholic
Christian. I put my hope in the people and in the work where I see
the members of the body of Christ
making real the message and the promise of the gospel. In a few moments, in the power of God's Holy Spirit,
we will make a sacrament of our hope when we offer gifts of bread and wine
in hope that God will make of them for us the gift of Christ's life,
laid down, broken, poured out, given to us
with the hope-filled promise of a peace and life that have no end. May the sacrament of this table nourish in us:
hope for healing; hope for the church;
and hope for the mission of the gospel of Jesus. Rev. Austin Fleming ******************************************************************* Homily for June 2, 2002 I am
frequently asked if attendance at Mass or the weekly collection
is "down" in these days of crisis. Comparing
the collections for the last month and a half
with the same time period last year, there is
only a difference of $1,000 - that is to say,
you have a given a thousand dollars more this year than last. With
regards to Mass attendance,
I don't have statistics to which I can refer, so I
have to rely on my own observations. I would
say that our attendance has been a little down
and I base that observation on the number of standees I see
at the 9:30 and 11:30 masses on Sunday morning. Pews are
full, but fewer people are standing at the back of the church,
and down the side aisles. Of
course, this is also the time of year, in any year,
when attendance dips as a number of folks in our parish
go away for the weekends. Generally
speaking, though, coming to church
and contributing at the parish level remains fairly constant. I
mention these facts and figures precisely because on this day
the church celebrates in a special way
what we do every Sunday - we celebrate the Eucharist. Today is
the feast of the Body and Blood of Christ,
or as some of us knew in the past - Corpus Christi Sunday. Do you
know what answer you will get
if you ask a theologian the question,
"What is the primary sacrament of reconciliation?" The
answer, the traditionally correct answer, is this:
"The primary sacrament of reconciliation is the Eucharist." It's not
confession, which we now call the sacrament of reconciliation. Certainly
going to confession is a celebration of reconciliation. But the
primary celebration of that is the Eucharist itself. Those
whose sins are grave must avail themselves of penance,
but precisely so that they might again
enjoy the reconciling communion that is ours in Christ,
and with each other, in the Eucharist. We are
all sinners
and we come each week, as sinners,
to be reconciled with God and with each other
in the communion that Jesus offers us at this table. Many of
us are old enough to remember the days
when one didn't go to communion
unless one had been to confession the day before. That
practice reveals a misunderstanding of the Eucharist
and a misunderstanding of the sacrament of penance. Today,
very few people ever come to the sacrament of penance while
most people receive communion on a regular if not weekly basis. This
reveals a much better understanding of the Eucharist
but a still deficient understanding of confession. But
since this is the feast of the Body and Blood of Christ
and not the first Sunday of Lent, let's
look at how our present practice
reveals a much better understanding of the Eucharist
that our practice 30 or more years ago. If we
look at the ministry of Jesus,
we will see that he spent so much of his time
having dinner with people
and that he regularly used the image of a dinner,
a party or a wedding feast
to speak of who was and who was not invited
to the heavenly banquet he came to tell us about. And over
and over again he surprised those around him by his
having dinner with known sinners,
with tax collectors, with prostitutes, with lepers
and in general with anyone who was marginalized from society
on account of their life style or a disease they had. These,
he told us again and again,
these are the ones who will be welcome at my table. And
those who will be least welcome, Jesus told us,
will be those who stand in judgment of others,
pointing fingers and saying,
"No, there's no room for you at the table." Jesus
did not dine with sinners or use these images to promote sin! But
rather to teach us that his table
is a table of forgiveness, a table of healing, a table of mercy,
a table of - reconciliation. In these
days of crisis for our church,
it is precisely to this table that all of us must come,
for all of us are sinners, all of us have failed. Most
people do not find their sins detailed in the daily newspaper
or broadcast on the 11:00 news. Most of
us are able to keep our sins a private matter,
known only to a few persons who might have been hurt
by our failings. But the
sins of some of our leaders are the stuff of the daily news
and has shaken the trust, the hope and the faith of us all. But for
us who have gathered at the Lord's table for most of our lives,
I know of no better place to deal with our mistrust,
our dashed hopes, and our loss of faith
than right at this same table. The work
of justice and reconciliation in this crisis must take place
in a number of different forums but for
us Catholic people, the primary reconciliation of all this
will happen when we gather again at this table
with recovered trust, hope and faith. For this
we hunger, and this table of Jesus is meant to satisfy our hunger. Rev.
Austin Fleming Homily
for June 16, 2002 So, did
you recognize the reference to us in the scriptures this morning? Did you
catch that place where the Lord was talking about us? Anyone
get it? "If
you hearken to my voice and keep my covenant,
you shall be my special possession,
dearer to me than all other people, though all the earth is mine. You
shall be to me a kingdom of priests,
a holy nation." (Exodus
19:2-6a) If we
don't think that scripture is about us,
if we think it's only about the people of Israel, then you
need to go back and take a course called
Intro to Christianity 101! Those
words in Exodus are indeed addressed to the people of Israel,
the chosen people of God, but with
exactly the same truth those words are addressed to us,
the church, those chosen in Christ, the new people of God, the
Lord's "dear and special
possession, "a kingdom of priests, a holy nation." Why do
we not immediately recognize ourselves in that scripture? Why
after 2000 years of Christian history,
why do the people of God fail to recognize themselves as a kingdom of
priests? Well,
the answer to that is in today's scriptures, too, in the gospel. "At
the sight of the crowds,
Jesus" heart was moved with pity for them because
they were troubled and abandoned,
like sheep without a shepherd. Then he
said to his disciples,
"The harvest is abundant but the laborers are few;
so ask the master of the harvest to send out laborers for his
harvest." The
heart of Jesus must be moved with pity for his people today, too,
because the chosen people of the church are very troubled
and many feel abandoned -
especially those who have been hurt by the church. And many
in the church do feel like "sheep without a shepherd"
because their trust in their shepherds has been broken. Isn't it
curious that this setting in the gospel
where Jesus' heart breaks for his people, that
this setting should immediately precede
the call of the twelve apostles,
the twelve whose ministry is seen as the model
for the ministry of those we now call our bishops. These
two scriptures, Exodus and Matthew
give us two different vantage points
from which to understand the church. The
Exodus text reveals the church to be the community,
the assembly of believers, the people of God
whom God recognizes as a kingdom of priests, a priestly people. The
Matthew text shows us a leadership team,
missioned by Christ with authority over unclean spirits,
sent out with power to heal and cure illness and disease,
commanded to rescue the lost sheep of the flock,
and to proclaim the kingdom of God -
and to do all this freely,
with no expectation of reward or payment. Unfortunately,
over hundreds of years,
we have forgotten, in many ways,
that all of us have been called by God to be a priestly people, The
Exodus text reveals the church to be the community,
the assembly of believers, the people of God
whom God recognizes as a kingdom of priests, a priestly people. The
Matthew text shows us a leadership team,
missioned by Christ with authority over unclean spirits,
sent out with power to heal and cure illness and disease,
commanded to rescue the lost sheep of the flock,
and to proclaim the kingdom of God -
and to do all this freely,
with no expectation of reward or payment. Unfortunately,
over hundreds of years,
we have forgotten, in many ways,
that all of us have been called by God to be a priestly people, Unfortunately,
over hundreds of years, we
have forgotten, in many ways,
that all of us have been called by God to be a priestly people, Would
that our bishops, when
confronted with the language of "priestly people," would that they would take pains to point out to us how many are the similarities between
the priesthood of the faithful and
the priesthood of the ordained. Indeed,
over centuries,
if any were guilty of having stolen someone's priestly status
it was the hierarchy who stole the people's priestly identity. If this
were not the truth,
why would it have been such great news at Vatican
Council II
in the early 1960's
to hear, as if for the first time, that the
baptized faithful are indeed God's priestly people? The
priestly status has been reconfirmed on paper -
but much work must be done to move from documentation
to lived experience. Perhaps
the day will come when our great grandchildren
or great, great grandchildren - or their grandchildren, will
readily recognize themselves in the Exodus story
as the people named by God as his dear, priestly people. Perhaps,
I pray, the day will come
when they recognize the truth of the Exodus story
as readily as we recognize the truth in today's gospel from Matthew. Every
time we gather at this table, it is
the priestly people of God who offer this Eucharist. I, a
priest, have been ordained to serve you in
the offering which is yours to make. You
can't do this without me, and
I wouldn't do this without you. It was
Cardinal Newman who said many years ago,
that without the people of the church,
the hierarchy looks rather peculiar, indeed. Apart
from my service to God's holy and priestly people,
what meaning would my priesthood have. We are
all here because we share a common baptism,
through which we were initiated into the people of God. Let us
go then to the altar of God, the table of Jesus,
and offer there the sacrifice he left us
on the night before he died. - Rev. Austin Fleming ****************************************************************** Homily
for June 23, 2002 What
gets us through the hard times in our lives? Who gets
us through the hard times in our lives? How is
it that we survive those things
that we once thought were beyond our surviving them? How do
we make our way through nights and days,
through weeks and months, and even years and years
when there seems to be no light at the end of the tunnel? If such
darkness has not been your own experience,
then surely you are close to someone whose experience this is. Our
church is living through hard times
and on some days it may seem that the hard times will never end. Even more so, those who have been abused know the suffering and fear that all
victims share:
fear that the pain may never end,
and fear that the hurt may never heal. Suffering
abounds, and we all wait for
healing. The
prophet in today's first scripture, Jeremiah,
was living through a nightmare of hard times. Jeremiah's
friends had become his enemies
and they were out to get him - they were out to kill him. How did
Jeremiah survive the unsurvivable? Jeremiah
knew that he might die at the hands of his enemies
but he knew that he had something his enemies could not take:
the indomitable spirit of God living within him,
that soul of faith which God will always champion and rescue. Although
Jeremiah lived hundreds of years before Jesus
he seems to have known what Jesus said in today's gospel:
"Fear no one...
Do not be afraid of those who can kill the body but
cannot kill the soul..." There
are realities today
that may threaten the heart and soul of the church,
and certainly the hearts and souls of the abused. Abuse
feels like it threatens the life of the soul precisely
because abuse does damage to trust
and trust is at the heart of our souls. In some
ways, for all of us, shaken trust
is at the heart of all our hard times. We do
not expect hard times when they come upon us. We
wonder if we did something to deserve them. We do
not understand how our loving God
could allow such hard times to shadow our path. The
harder the times, the
more our trust in God may be shaken. Certainly,
Jesus himself wondered these same things. The
trust in his heart was shaken, too. On the
night before he died, he
begged his father to take away the cup of his suffering. From the
cross, he cried out,
"My God, why have you abandoned me?" But his
final words are the most telling:
"Father, into your hands I entrust my spirit." Jesus
believed, as did Jeremiah, that a higher power
would see him through the darkest night of his soul. To be
rescued from death
Jesus needed to trust again, to en-trust his soul
into hands of the one he feared had abandoned him. When
trust is broken,
only trust can restore the broken trust. Trusting
again, after trust has been broken,
is what gets us through the hardest times in our lives. Archbishop
Desmond Tutu sums this up in a wonderful prayer:
Goodness is stronger than evil; love
is stronger than hate; light
is stronger than darkness; life
is stronger than death.
Victory is ours, victory is ours through
him who loved us. Take a
moment to call to your mind and heart
some of your hardest times,
realities you feared you might not survive... Now,
pray the simple prayer above,
again, and again, and again... When
trust is broken,
we are tempted to trust not again. When
evil has violated us
we are tempted to believe that there is goodness in us. When
hate has beat us down
we are tempted to believe we are not lovable. When
darkness becomes our refuge
we are tempted to believe that the light is extinguished. When
escape through death seems sweet,
we are tempted to believe that the living spirit of God is not
enough to sustain us. For all
of us:
trust, and goodness, and love, and light, and life are restored when we
believe that a power greater than ourselves
will rescue what no one can kill:
the life of God within us. We go
now to the Lord's table where,
in the Eucharist, Jesus
promises to be with us at all times,
and especially in the hard times when all seems lost. We
gather at that table under the shadow of the cross of Jesus
because victory is ours,
victory is ours in Christ who loved us. - Rev. Austin Fleming ****************************************************************** Homily
for June 30, 2002 When I
was in the second grade at the Maple Street School
in Danvers, Massachusetts, Mrs. Stanton was my teacher. Every
morning, at the beginning of the school day,
we had "opening exercises"
which had nothing to do with jumping jacks or pushups,
but which included:
-Mrs. Stanton reading the 23rd psalm from
the King James Version of the bible;
-the whole class reciting the Lord's Prayer which
some students elongated with the so-called
"Protestant ending"
(for thine is the kingdom, and the power
and the glory...) which
ending we Catholic students had been taught,
at home and in Sunday school, not to say;
- and finally, the Pledge of Allegiance to the flag. It was
when I was in the second grade
that President Eisenhower added the two words, "under God,"
which, I learned this past week, was in reaction to the threat
of the spread of godless communism around the globe. And now
someone wants to change the Pledge again,
and that has riled up most Americans
and, surprisingly enough, a bipartisan majority in Congress. In the
1950Ős we seemed to have a pretty good solution
to the disagreement about the end of the Lord's Prayer:
"Say it if want to -- keep your mouth shut if you don't." A
similar thing happens in Roman Catholic churches every Sunday
when we recite the Nicene Creed. There
are those who object to the translation, which reads,
"For us men, and for our salvation..." and so
they say, instead,
"For us, and for our salvation..." Seems
like a good solution - at least until there's a new translation. But
simply refusing to add the phrase "under God"
In the Pledge of Allegiance is not enough for some
and so they have gone to court to get those words removed. In
Jesus' day there was no United States of America,
and no Pledge of Allegiance to the flag,
and no American flag at all. But
there were other things demanding allegiance
and that's what Jesus is getting at in the gospel today. In
Jesus' time,
the Middle Eastern family was very large and quite extended.
(John Pilch in The
Cultural World of Jesus, p. 103-104)
It consisted of a father and all his children,
including his married sons with their entire families,
all living in one place.
In fact, the ideal marriage partner was a first cousin,
which bound this close-knit family together
with even tighter bonds.
The resultant mentality was
"our family" against
"everyone else." Family
allegiance was fierce! The
consequences of marrying outside the family were dire. One gave
up claim to honor, and status,
and all of the family's economic, religious, educational, and
social connections. Most
seriously, marrying outside the family
cut you off from inheriting the family's land or money. Family
allegiance was, in a sense, everything! And this
is just what Jesus, in today's gospel, asks
those who follow him to give up:
"Whoever loves father or mother more than me is
not worthy of me,
and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is
not worthy of me." Jesus
isn't asking his followers to include "under Christ"
in their pledge of allegiance to their families - he's
asking them to pledge allegiance to him -
INSTEAD of to their families. He's not
so much asking them to abandon their families
as much as he's asking them, and us,
"how deep is your allegiance to me, to
my word, to my message,
and to the cross I'm asking you to take up?" Most
often, our allegiance to our family is not in conflict
with our allegiance to our God. But what
is such a conflict should arise?
Whose standard would we salute?
The family flag - or the cross of Christ? Is blood
thicker than water? I
believe it's a shame that more and more in the U.S., the tail wags the dog:
that protection of the rights of a few
tramples the protection of the rights of the many. But it
matters little to me if the phrase "under God"
is removed from the Pledge of Allegiance. What I
find much more important is how, or if our nation LIVES "under
God" -
whether or not the phrase is in the Pledge of Allegiance. If you
consider the changes in American culture and society
over the past 48 years since the phrase "under God" was
added to the Pledge, I think
you would agree that the inclusion of those two words
has not done much to improve the godliness of America. Are our
nation's statutes on capitol punishment "under God"? Are our
nation's laws on abortion "under God"? Is our
nation's foreign policy "under God"? Are our
nation's penal policies "under God"? Is our
nation's entertainment "under God"? Is the
distribution of our nation's wealth "under God"? Is our
nation's understanding and implementation
of the establishment clause "under God"? Jesus,
in the scriptures this day,
asks us to whom we will offer the allegiance of our hearts. As
Christians, our answer to that question is that our first allegiance is to
God:
to God who made us, and to Jesus who saved us,
and to the Spirit who sustains us. We offer
allegiance, also, to our nation and its laws
insofar as they are truly "under God" We can
pledge no allegiance to anything in our nation and its laws
which is apart from the word and the law of God. And we
go now to the table of Jesus
who claimed our hearts and lives in baptism
and under the shadow of whose cross we are nourished
by the living sign of his loving allegiance to us:
his body and blood, broken and shed,
and shared with us in the bread and cup of the Eucharist. Jesus,
in his suffering and death, in his rising from the dead,
and in his presence among us in sacrament pledges his allegiance to
us. To whom,
to what shall we pledge our allegiance
that we might be worthy of him
whose love for us knows no bounds? Rev. Aust | ||||||