Vigils

Vigil of the Nativity
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  When I was in college, it was just starting to become academically “enlightened” to stop labeling time with the abbreviations BC (for before Christ) and AD (for Anno Domini, meaning Year of the Lord), to BCE (for Before the Common Era) and CE (the Common Era).  I’m sure some person thought it quite “diverse” to remove religious terms like “Christ” and “the Lord” from the way that time was measured.  However, a few minutes of critical thinking would have helped them to realize that the reference point for the change in marking time was still religious.  What was common about the Common Era is that time was measured from the birth of Christ.  No matter what you call it (and as Catholics we should continue to use BC and AD), time is measured as happening before the Incarnation or after the Incarnation.  Our measurement of time points to that one, unique, universe-altering experience of God-made-man.

Statue of David from Jerusalem

    As St. Paul opens his epistle to the Romans, he references that the Good News, the Gospel that God became man and took our sins away was promised beforehand by the prophets.  All the Old Testament, in some way, shape, or form, pointed to the moment when God took flesh and was born of the Virgin Mary.  Even from the very beginning of humanity, after our first parents had rebelled against God, God promised to send a descendant of Eve who would strike at the head of the ancient serpent who led Adam and Eve astray.  Melchizedek, the King of Salem or Jerusalem; to whom Abraham gave a tenth of his spoils; who as priest of God Most High offered bread and wine, pointed to the true King of Jerusalem, the only true Priest who offers Himself to us under the appearance of bread and wine.  Moses prophesied a prophet to whom the Chosen People must listen, and which pointed to the Incarnation.  David, the King of Israel after God’s own heart, to whom God promised an heir that would reign for ever, pointed to the Incarnation.
    The prophets, too, also spoke God’s word that He would come among us.  Isaiah especially prophesied the virgin who would be with child, whose name would be Immanuel, God with us; and the flower from the root of Jesse (David’s father); and the gifts of gold and frankincense brought from the nations to worship the new king.  Micah prophesied that a ruler would come forth from Bethlehem. 
    Even the secular history was preparing for this moment.  After the disruptive civil war between Julius Caesar and Pompey in 49 BC, and then Caesar’s assassination by Brutus in 44 BC, Gaius Julius Caesar Augustus, also known as Octavian Augustus, would establish a certain peace throughout the Roman Empire which would help the spread of the Gospel.  It was Augustus who called for a census, which led Mary and Joseph to go to Bethlehem (though it also led to no vacancy at any of the places they wanted to stay).
    Today we celebrate the Vigil of the Nativity of the Lord.  Many Catholics use the word vigil to mean the night before.  But in the traditional calendar, it was the entire day before (the Saturday evening Mass is not technically a vigil, it’s an anticipatory Mass).  And the vigil day was a day of preparation.  Often, though not on Sundays, it was a day of fasting or abstinence.  But the idea was to get ready for the joyful celebration on the following day.  The prayers were different, the readings were different, and often extended.  We still retain these extended readings and prayers, for example, in the Vigil of Easter and the Vigil of Pentecost, though both are celebrated at Mass during the evening or night. 
    But it also recalls the waiting and anticipation that occurred before that actual day arrived.  As I said earlier, humanity had been waiting for the promised redeemer since it had broken away from God at the Fall of Adam and Eve.  And God had, though it wasn’t always understood until after the Incarnation, prepared for a redeemer and prophesied a redeemer throughout the preparation of the Chosen People for the millennia before Christ was born in Bethlehem. 
    I know that this sense of anticipation and waiting is hard today, as many (myself included) put up Christmas decorations much earlier than today.  Many stores started celebrating Christmas the day after Thanksgiving (or even after Halloween!).  I have enjoyed listening to Christmas music since Thanksgiving.  And in less than 4 hours, I’ll be celebrating the first of four Christmas Masses.  Some of my fondest Christmas memories are going to my maternal grandparents on Christmas Eve and celebrating with them, before going to the evening Mass. 
    But it helps us to remember that every generation had hoped that theirs would be the one where the Messiah came and revealed himself.  Their eyes were attentive, their ears open to the possibility that God had come to save them, even if they weren’t always looking for salvation from sin, but from their foreign oppressors. That’s why, when St. John the Baptist appears, the Pharisees ask if he is the Christ, or at least Elijah, who would come before the Christ, or the Prophet that Moses prophesied in Exodus.  They were waiting and watching.  And today, to the best of our ability, so should we.
    Because tomorrow, December 25, we remember the day that changed everything.  Not only the transition from BC to AD, but we came to be able to see our Savior, and know that God loved us so much that He took flesh to be able to be with us, walk with us, touch us, in a way He hadn’t before, not even in the Garden of Eden.  Waiting is hard, but may we be attentive these last eleven or so hours so that we may fully celebrate the Nativity of our Lord Jesus Christ in the flesh, who with the Father and the Holy Spirit live and reign for ever and ever.  Amen.

The Old Rejoicing in the New

Passion Sunday
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  When it comes to the Bible, I think sometimes we have this sense that the New Testament is all we need to read.  And certainly, it is often a bit easier.  The Gospels and the Acts of the Apostles are pretty straight forward.  The writings of St. Paul, while including some long sentences with very complex structure, are instructive, as are the other epistles from St. Peter, St. Jude, and St. John.  Yeah, Revelation or the Apocalypse of St. John can be a bit confusing and/or scary, and easily misunderstood and misinterpreted, but generally, the New Testament seems like the place to focus.  To use an analogy, the New Testament seems like nice, sunny pastures with rolling hills, while the Old Testament, even with some of the familiar stories that we enjoy, seems much more like a forest with thick growth, and a narrow trail through it.
    But we cannot truly understand Christ without understanding what He Himself revealed before the Incarnation.  We cannot be like the gnostic heretics who claimed that the God of the Old Testament was a different God than Jesus Christ.  When read properly, the Old Testament points to and is fulfilled in Christ.  That is one of the points of the Gospel today.  Our Lord says, “‘Abraham rejoiced to see my day.’”  Abraham rejoiced because in Christ, God’s covenant would be opened up to all nations, a covenant made with a true son of Abraham through Isaac, Jacob, and Joseph.
    The evangelists and apostles were great at seeing how Christ was revealed throughout the Old Testament.  The Letter to the Hebrews, our epistle today, in another place talks about Melchizedek as a type of Christ, since he was king of Jerusalem and a priest of God Most High, and because he had no lineage given (unlike almost everyone else in Genesis), and because He blessed Abram, noting that only a greater blesses a lesser.  The author of the Letter to the Hebrews also quotes Psalm 2 when he asks, “to which of the angels did God ever say: ‘You are my son; this day I have begotten you’?”  And he also quotes other verses to shows Christ’s superiority to the angels.  St. John the Apostle and Evangelist loves to quote earlier Scriptures as he saw them fulfilled by the Savior.  When the soldiers cast lots for the robe at the crucifixion, he quotes Psalm 21:18; when the soldier pierces the dead body of Christ with a lance rather than breaking the legs, he quotes Psalm 33:21 and Zechariah 12:10. 
    The Church Fathers also saw Christ prefigured in Old Testament figures who had their proper importance in their own right.  Christ is the New Adam, the new head of humanity, who, rather than disobeying God and dooming all of humanity, is obedient to God, even to the point of death, and so graces all humanity and opens for all the children of Adam and Eve the possibility of eternal life in heaven. 
    Christ is prefigured in Abraham.  Abraham left his home at the direction of God, and was promised descendants numerous as the stars in the heaven.  Christ “journeys” to earth to fulfill the will of the Father, and joins both Jew and Gentile to God, so that the number of the elect comes from every corner of the earth.

    Isaac, too, represents Christ.  Isaac is the beloved son of Abraham and Sarah.  Abraham, his father, asks Isaac to carry wood for the sacrifice up Mount Moriah, the mountain, according to tradition, on which the City of Zion and Temple were later built.  Isaac is a young man, and yet allows Abraham to bind him to the wood for the sacrifice of his own free will.  So Christ carries the wood of the cross up Calvary, and willingly lays down His life, trusting in His eternal Father.  Abraham’s hand was stayed by the angel, stopping the sacrifice, but no angel stopped the sacrifice of Christ.
    Christ is prefigured in Jeremiah the Prophet.  Jeremiah preached tough messages to the people of Judah.  He condemned trusting in a building, even the Temple of the Lord, and called the people to be faithful to God.  For preaching God’s message, Jeremiah was opposed and oppressed by the king and leaders of Judah, even though his words came true.  Christ preached the Word of God, and foretold the destruction of the new temple built by Herod, built after the temple that Jeremiah saw had been destroyed by the Babylonians.  He was opposed and oppressed by the leaders and many of the chief priests, Pharisees, and scribes of His own day.  Christ called all to fidelity to God and a return to Him.
    This could go on and on (maybe you feel like it has already!).  But the point is that the entire Old Testament points to Christ and is fulfilled in Him.  Beyond the people, all the sacrifices of the Old Testament are fulfilled and perfected in the one, perfect sacrifice of Christ on the Cross, which we will celebrate in a particular way on Good Friday.  So if we wish to truly appreciate who Christ is and what He did for us, we need to be well-versed in the what came before Him.  Yes, it can sometimes seem strange, and needs to be unpacked, and should be done with the assistance of the Magisterium, the official teaching office of the Church.  But rather than avoiding it because it can be confusing, let’s take the safe path of how the Church has read the Old Testament, so that we can arrive at the one fountain of life that forms the hinge between the Old and the New Testaments, Jesus Christ, who with the Father and the Holy Spirit, lives and reigns for ever and ever.  Amen.  

The Language of the Eucharist

Solemnity of the Body and Blood of Christ (Corpus Christi)

One of the things I love doing is learning languages.  In fact, from time to time I use a free app on my phone called Duolingo, which allows me to study, in this case, Dutch, at my own pace.  I love languages because it helps me understand people.  It’s like a key that unlocks the doors of those who don’t speak English.

When it comes to the Eucharist, we as Catholics have our own language.  That language, once understood, helps us to open up the riches of our faith when it comes to the Eucharist.  We use words like transubstantiation, which means that the bread and wine truly become, in their substance, the Body and Blood of Jesus.  We use words like host, Holy Communion, chalice, paten, and we use the word sacrifice.

That word, sacrifice, is the key to understanding the Eucharist.  Now, after Vatican II, there was a lot of emphasis on the meal aspect of the Eucharist.  And certainly, Jesus did institute the Eucharist at the Last Supper, which took place in the context of the Passover meal.  But even the meal of the Last Supper recalls the sacrifice of the lamb on the doorposts of the Israelites, the sacrifice which saved them from the death of the firstborn.

The Eucharist is not a community meal that celebrates the unity of the assembly.  The Eucharist is not a social gathering of like-minded people who share fellowship.  The Eucharist is the sacrifice of Jesus on the cross, the truly unblemished Lamb of God whose Precious Blood, poured out for us, saves us from eternal death.  That is why the place where the sacrifice of the Mass is offered is called an altar, which is, by definition, a place of sacrifice.  On that altar, Jesus’ one, perfect, and unique sacrifice is made present for us in an unbloody way, so that we can share in what Jesus’ sacrifice made possible for us: life in heaven.  That is why those who offer the prayer are truly called priests, whose central job it is to offer sacrifices.  

When we understand the Eucharist as a sacrifice, it opens up for us the Old Testament.  Today’s first reading highlights the sacrifice of Melchizedek, king of Salem, who offers bread and wine to God Most High on behalf of Abram, our Father in Faith, after he had won the victory of foreign kings.  When we hear about a sacrifice of bread and wine, we should immediately think of the Eucharist.  And, as the Letter to the Hebrews in the New Testament states, Melchizedek is himself a prefigurement of Christ, as he has no beginning and no end (as evidenced by no genealogy); his name means King of Justice; and he is the King of Salem, that is, King of Peace.  And even Jesus’ miracles, like the one we heard in today’s Gospel, point to the sacrifice to which the Eucharist points.  Jesus offers loaves and fish, which is clearly different from bread and wine.  But, in an early mosaic at the place where this miracle happened, there are two fish, and a basket with four loaves, right in front of the altar, because the fifth loaf was understood to be the bread that was offered on the altar.  

Understanding the Eucharist as a sacrifice also changes our approach to it.  If the Eucharist is merely an old thanksgiving meal, then how we act, how we approach the Eucharist, how we prepare for the Eucharist, doesn’t really matter.  Yes, preparations are necessary for Thanksgiving dinner, but it has to do with the food, not so much with the people attending.  If the Eucharist is simply a thanksgiving meal, then our attendance doesn’t really make a difference; sometimes family members make other plans on Thanksgiving than spending it with all their extended family.  If the Eucharist is merely a thanksgiving meal, then you might have special dishes or special entertainment on TV, like watching the Lions lose, or you might decide to make things easier and go with chinette plates, and you might change up what you watch or what you listen to.  

If, instead, the Eucharist is the sacrifice of our salvation, the means by which we are cleansed of our sins and heaven is opened to us, then we prepare by making sure that we are in communion with each other and communion with God through the Sacrament of Penance regularly.  We prepare by fasting from most food and drinks for one hour before we receive Jesus.  We show up because we are grateful for what Jesus did for us then, and what He continues to do for us each day.  We use special clothes and special vessels, and special music, because it is made for a sacrifice, not for entertainment.  We might even read the Sunday readings ahead of time as a way of preparing, or attend daily Mass as an overflow of our gratitude to God.  

Without sacrifice, we cannot understand the true nature of the Eucharist.  And understanding the Eucharist as a sacrifice also helps us to unite our daily sacrifices to Jesus, because we know that He already did that for us, and we want to return to the favor, even in our own daily ways, big or small.  Understanding the Eucharist as a sacrifice allows us to approach the Body and Blood of Christ, not as if we’re in a line at the grocery store, waiting to get a handout, but with wonder and awe and reverence as we receive Jesus, our Lord, on our tongues and on our hands, as He brings us into union with Him in the Sacrament of His Body and Blood.

Bread: Not As Ordinary as You Might Think

Solemnity of Corpus Christi

One of my favorite foods from my pilgrimages to the Holy Land is the bread.  The way it is made, we would likely call it pita bread, but it’s an unleavened bread that has a pocket in it, though it’s totally enclosed until you rip into it.  It puts Wonderbread to shame in my opinion.  Of course, it’s not made just for sandwiches.  It’s also for dipping into hummus, sopping up some of the sauce or gravy with the food, and other ways of eating.  It’s the same type of bread that you can get at Middle Eastern restaurants like the Beirut in Toledo.  And while Adrian has more restaurants than you can shake a stick at, there’s no place that really sells good, Middle Eastern bread that I have found.

It may seem odd to focus so much on bread.  Bread is so ordinary.  No matter what kind it is, most people expect it with their meal, even if sometimes as a roll.  As much as I go on about bread, there is nothing too special about it.  And yet, Jesus used bread as one of the elements, or what theologians call the matter, of the Sacrament of His Body and Blood.

Our readings today on the Solemnity of the Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ all revolve around bread (and also wine).  In our first reading, Melchizedek, a prefigurement of Jesus, offers bread and wine, and then blesses Abram.  A good chunk of the Letter to the Hebrews focuses on this small passage we heard from Genesis, and what it prefigured.  And we, as Catholics, should have our sacramental sense tingle every time we hear bread and wine in the Old Testament.

St. Paul in our second reading recalls Jesus instituting the Eucharist, that Jesus offered bread and wine, but no longer referred to it as bread and wine, but as His Body and Blood.  And the Gospel we heard is the multiplication of the loaves and fish.  Now, to be clear, Jesus did not use fish as a part of the Eucharist, though maybe it does explain why Catholics love having fish fries.  But Jesus multiplies the bread, bread which satisfied everyone who was there, around five thousand men, not counting the women and children.  

Why bread?  Why did Jesus choose bread as part of the matter of the Sacrament of His Body and Blood?  We can only speculate, but many have thought over the years that it has to do with the different aspects of bread.  In the first place, bread is ordinary.  It was a staple of the Middle Eastern diet.  God takes the ordinary, and makes it extraordinary.  He does that with bread, but He also does that with us.  God takes our bread, our ordinary lives, whatever they entail, and He accepts them from me, your priest, and then returns it to you, no longer bread, but the Body of Christ; no longer your common life, but transformed.  Bread is a metaphor for us: nothing special, but common.

In the second place, we can look at how bread is made.  In a document of disputed origins called The Didache, some parts probably dating from the 5th century, others dating from the 12th or 13th century, there is a prayer that purports to be said at the Eucharist.  Part of the prayer reads, “As this broken bread was scattered over the hills and then, when gathered, became one mass, so may Thy Church be gathered from the ends of the earth into Thy Kingdom.”  This prayer examines how bread is made.  First, the grain is scattered across the field.  Then it is gathered together.  After it is gathered, it has to be crushed to make flour.  Then flour is added to water, is baked, and then you get bread.  Humanity, too, is scattered across the field of the world.  But Jesus unites what was scattered; He gathers all of humanity in Himself, and gives them the opportunity to be one with Him through faith.  Humanity, too, is broken, often crushed.  We each have our own crosses in life, the ways in which we suffer.  When we unite our suffering with the waters of Baptism, our participation in the suffering and death of Christ, and are warmed by the love of Jesus, we become one loaf of bread, bound together in the Kingdom of God.

Wine, too, has a rich symbolism, as it is taken from grapes on the vine (we recall Jesus saying that He is the Vine, we are the branches), crushed and pressed into wine which, as the psalms say, gives joy to the heart.  But maybe I can talk about wine in a different homily.

So maybe bread isn’t so common.  It certainly has a vast symbolism which is perhaps why God chose to use it so often in the Old and New Testaments.  Whenever we hear bread, hopefully our minds will immediately think about the Eucharist and about Jesus’ abiding presence with us.  As we walk through the streets of Adrian today in our Walk with Jesus, we will follow what looks like a small piece of unleavened bread.  But we know by faith, that it is no longer bread, but is truly Jesus’ Body.  May our joy for what Jesus did with bread, changing it into His Body, be manifest when we come to Mass, when we walk with Jesus today, and even in our daily lives, that we might truly be a Eucharistic people, a people who are always grateful and on the lookout for the presence of the Lord.

Where's Jesus?

Third Sunday of Easter

           

Some of you may remember a series of books that either you, or your children owned, or maybe even they own one now.  The series was called Where’s Waldo, and these books were picture books.  The point of each illustration was to find a little guy named Waldo, who was in a red and white striped shirt, with a red and white striped stocking cap on and glasses.  Some were easy, some were hard.  For me, it was a great way to pass the time waiting in a doctor’s office, or on a long road trip.

            Our main concern in this life should not be where’s Waldo, but should be where’s Jesus.  You don’t have to buy a set of picture books looking for a guy in a white tunic with a red sash over it, hidden among other people and scenes.  Our vocation is, rather, to find Jesus as He makes Himself known to us.  One primary place to find Jesus is in the Scriptures.

            That’s what St. Peter did as he spoke to the Jews in our first reading today.  Having been filled with the Holy Spirit at Pentecost, Peter proclaimed to the people that Jesus was the Messiah, and that He had been raised from the dead.  St. Peter saw Jesus in the Old Testament, in the only Scriptures that existed at that time.  He saw Jesus in Psalm 16 as he quoted King David: “…because you will not abandon my soul to the netherworld, nor will you suffer your holy one to see corruption.  You have made known to me the paths of life; you will fill me with joy in your presence.”  St. Peter, who had likely read that Psalm countless times as an observant Jew, saw it in a new light, saw the reference to Jesus, who was not allowed to see corruption, nor abandoned to the netherworld, but raised up. 

            The disciples on the road to Emmaus have Jesus Himself open up the Old Testament for them, showing them how it refers to Him.  And while they do not at first recognize Jesus walking with them, their hearts burn within them as He helps them to understand how Jesus fulfills all the prophecies of the Old Testament.  Who knows exactly what passages Jesus explained to them, but we can see from the very beginning, in Genesis, how a redeemer is promised as God tells the serpent, in Adam and Eve’s presence: “‘I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and hers; He will strike at your head, while you strike at his heel.’”  That offspring, striking the head of the serpent, is Jesus. 

In our Eucharistic Prayer that we hear today, the Roman Canon, we hear three important persons from Genesis that refer to or prefigure Jesus: 1) Abel the just, the son of Adam and Eve, who offered a pleasing sacrifice to God, and was yet killed by his own brother, Cain, just as Jesus offered Himself as the acceptable sacrifice, as He was killed by his own; 2) Abraham, our father in faith, whom God asked to sacrifice his beloved, his only son, Isaac, though at the last minute an angel stayed his hand, just as God offered His beloved, His only Son, Jesus, but did not stay His hand; 3) Melchizedek, the king of Salem, which means king of peace, who appears without any lineage, without beginning or end, and is priest of the Most High God, though not of the Levitical priesthood, and who offers bread and wine, just as Jesus, the True Priest, without beginning or end, changes the bread and wine we offer into His Body and Blood, “a holy sacrifice, a spotless victim.”

Or perhaps Jesus spoke to the disciples on the road about the suffering servant chapters of Isaiah, chapters 49, 50, 52, and 53, describing the suffering of Jesus.  Or maybe Jeremiah 20, where all gather to attack the just one and cause trouble for him on every side.  Or maybe Wisdom 2, where the wicked plan to attack the just man, because he is obnoxious to them, and calls himself a child of the Lord, and reproaches them for transgressions of the Law.  Or maybe he explained how Hosea 6 says, “‘Come, let us return to the Lord, For it is he who has rent, but he will heal us; he has struck us, but he will bind our wounds.  He will revive after two days; on the third day he will raise us up.’”  Or maybe he quoted for them Zechariah 12:10: “and they shall look upon him whom they have thrust through, and they shall mourn for him as one mourns for an only son, and they shall grieve over him as one grieves over a firstborn.”

Some of those passages or chapters may sound familiar, as we read them during Lent.  But these are just scratching the surface.  Jesus reveals Himself though the Word of God, the Scriptures.  But can we find Him?  Do we have eyes to see and ears to hear?  Whether it’s the Old or the New Testament, do we come to know Jesus through reading the Bible?  It’s not always easy, but it helps us to know Jesus better.  And for those tricky passages we offer Bible studies, or small faith-sharing groups, to help you to recognize Jesus better and better each time you read the Word of God. 

St. Jerome said that ignorance of Scriptures is ignorance of Christ.  Do we know Jesus?  Is our view of Jesus consistent with how He revealed Himself in the Word of God?  Do we read the Word of God?  And if we do, do our hearts burn within us as Jesus is made known?  If you don’t read the Bible every day, now is the time to start.  Start with the New Testament, just one chapter per night.  I read the entire New Testament in a year, and the entire Old Testament in a year.  It’s doable.  And, especially for those tough passages, pick up a good Bible Study, or join one, or see what the Catechism says about those passages with the Scripture index in the back.  If we are open to the Word of God, which always is meant to prepare us for Jesus making Himself known through the breaking of the bread, the Eucharist, then our lives will be changed, for the better, and we won’t have to hunt for Jesus, but we will recognize Him in the ways He reveals Himself to us.

Putting Yourself in the Mass

Solemnity of Corpus Christi

            It was not uncommon, in medieval art, for the painter to put himself into his work of art.  From what I have heard, one of the faces on the back wall of the Sistine Chapel, in the great mural The Final Judgment is the face of Michelangelo.  Caravaggio put himself into most of his famous paintings.  And even if they don’t put their image into their paintings, a painter pours his or her heart and soul into creating a work of beauty, a work which shows forth the splendor of the truth.

            Today’s readings focus us in on offering what we have, of putting ourselves into what we are doing, no matter how little or how big.  The first reading from Genesis is the story where Melchizedek blesses bread and wine and offers them to God Most High, and then Abram offers him a tenth (or tithe) of everything.  The Letter to the Hebrews makes a big deal out of this event, because one greater blesses one who is lesser, and you only offer a tithe if there is a debt to be paid to another.  Now, Melchizedek must have been pretty important to make Abram, the Father of the Chosen People, the lesser of the two, and for Abram to offer Melchizedek a tithe.  The author of the Letter to the Hebrews focuses in on Melchizedek’s name, which means king of righteousness, and his country, King of Salem, from the root word, shalom, which makes him the King of Peace, and that, unlike almost everyone else in Scripture, there is no lineage.  Melchizedek just shows up without father or mother or ancestors.  For this reason, the Letter to the Hebrews states that Melchizedek was a foreshadowing of Christ, the true King of Righteousness and King of Peace, who is the co-eternal Son of the Father, without beginning.  When you throw in offering bread and wine, too, it is not hard to see why the author equated the two. 

            And in the Gospel, there are only five loaves and two fish to feed five thousand men, not to mention women and children.  But they are offered to Jesus who miraculously multiplies them so that it is enough, and not just enough, but enough to satisfy everyone. 

            And so we often talk about stewardship: sharing the time, talent, and treasure we have with the Church to continue the work of Christ.  Think of anything you like here at St. John or St. Thomas.  We can’t do it without people generously donating their time.  Think of anything you like here at St. John or St. Thomas.  We can’t do it without people coming together to use a diversity of gifts towards a common goal.  No one person has a monopoly on all the gifts necessary to preach Jesus Christ and His salvation.  Think of anything you like here at St. John or St. Thomas.  We can’t do it without people giving of their treasure to fund the staff salaries, the opportunities for retreats and programs, etc.  And the burden is not the laity’s alone to bear.  I also feel compelled to give to our parish each week, to the scholarship fund for St. Thomas Aquinas parish school, to the Capital Campaign we are in for the school, to DSA, and my list, probably like yours, goes on and on, even beyond this parish.

            But, as we celebrate Corpus Christi today, I want to ask you: do you put yourself in the celebration of the Mass?  Do you invest your energy when you come here each Sunday, or is it something to pass an hour on a Sunday morning?  I can tell you that, for me, celebrating Mass is exhausting.  Our sacristans and Mass coordinators and servers and tell you that it’s not uncommon for me to yawn out of fatigue after the first Mass and before the second.  Why?  Because each time I celebrate Mass, I try to pour myself in what I am saying or chanting and doing.  I try to bring all of who I am, and when I offer all of me, it can be exhausting.

            Because we are all members of the priesthood of the faithful, we have a priestly office, even if it isn’t the same as the ministerial priesthood.  All of us baptized are invited by Holy Mother Church to offer who we are to the Father with the Son in the power of the Holy Spirit.  Yes, we pass the basket to collect our treasure.  Yes, we bring up bread and wine.  But united with that bread and wine is supposed to be all of who we are.  Did you have a crummy week where nothing seemed to go right?  Offer it to God, united with the bread and wine as you silently listen to the words of Jesus offering His Body and Blood to the Father.  Did you have a great week where everything was just how you wanted it?  Rejoice and thank God by offering it united to the bread and the wine.  This morning, eight of our parish children have the opportunity to offer their excitement, and maybe a little nervousness, with that bread and wine, as they prepare to receive the Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity of Jesus Christ, the eternal High Priest and Victim for the first time.  All of us, no matter what our age, vocation, occupation, or race, can put ourselves into the Paschal Mystery and offer ourselves to God.    As Lumen gentium, 34 from the Second Vatican Council stated:

all their works, prayers and apostolic endeavors, their ordinary married and family life, their daily occupations, their physical and mental relaxation, if carried out in the Spirit, and even the hardships of life, if patiently borne—all these become “spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ.”  Together with the offering of the Lord’s body, they are most fittingly offered in the celebration of the Eucharist.

Pour yourself into this, and every Mass.  Make it not just a routine, but a purposeful time to unite yourself to the Lord by offering your lives with the bread and wine, which will be given back to you as the Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity, of our Lord Jesus Christ.  Put yourself into the beautiful work of art that the Mass is.