Homily of Friday, May 1, 2020
Workers of the world unite! A great slogan, celebrated by many in the world today: May One; May Day. Since 1955, in the Church we celebrate St Joseph the worker, the man who protected, provided for and taught the infant, the growing child, the adolescent Jesus of Nazareth. Workers of the world unite! The communists and socialists say that. And we Benedictines are communists, with a small C. The rule of Saint Benedict looks to implement in a community the life of the early Church of which Acts 2 says: They devoted themselves to the teaching of the apostles and to the communal life, to the breaking of the bread and to the prayers…. All who believed were together and had all things in common. They would sell their property and possessions and divide them among all according to each one’s need. That was no utopian dream, but a reality rooted in God’s love. Workers of the world Unite! Saint Paul wrote to the Thessalonians: We instruct you, brothers, in the name of [our] Lord Jesus Christ, to shun any brother who conducts himself in a disorderly way and not according to the tradition they received from us… In fact, when we were with you, we instructed you that if anyone was unwilling to work, neither should that one eat. … we instruct and urge in the Lord Jesus Christ to work quietly. And Saint Benedict says in Chapter 48: They are truly monks when they live by the labor of their hands as did our fathers and the Apostles. In fact in our work we imitate and participate in the work of the first worker, God our creator, whom Genesis introduces to us as a worker, methodically arranging and creating the universe and all life, work which he saw was good, good work which required metaphoric rest after its completion. In our work we become co-creators with God, and we know from our own experience that work is not a curse but a blessing, as any of the unemployed can tell anyone who doubts it. As Pope St John Paul II teaches us in his 3rd Encyclical, “On the Dignity of Human Labor,” that Jesus proclaimed a Gospel of work, and that “By enduring the toil of work in union with Christ, man collaborates with the Son of God for the redemption of humanity. He shows himself a true disciple of Christ by carrying the cross in his turn every day in the activity that he is called upon to perform.” Would that the Workers of the would world unite… in the devotion of, in the example of, Saint Joseph the Tekton, as the Greek says, the builder, the maker of things for the sake of the kingdom of God and Jesus Christ its King. St Joseph, the worker, pray for us.
Homily of Saturday, May 2, 2020
It’s hard for us to imagine the theological situation of the Church during its first few hundred years. This was the era of the Church Fathers, those who had a fundamental role in forming the Christian Faith as we have received it. In their pondering, as reason penetrated more deeply into evangelical history, vast imaginative powers were unleashed. Their response to Scripture was an essential element in the reception of the Word of God in revelation. Today we take for granted things such as the creed, the liturgy, the canon of Scripture and Church order. But in the age of the Fathers, these things were still subjects of discussion and debate. No matter how tawdry the politics and unforgiving some of the polemics, this era was an absolutely essential moment in the receiving of the Word of God by the Church. One of those Fathers was St. Athanasius, whose memory we celebrate today. Athanasius, Patriarch of Alexandria during the fourth century, was the great champion of the divinity of Christ after the Council of Nicea when the Church – after enduring the persecutions of the Emperors – had to learn how to survive their protective embrace. Athanasius attended the Council of Nicea, then later succeeded to the Patriarchate. The Arian party, wealthy, violent, politically astute, and denying the divinity of Christ, were defeated at the Council, but were successful at court. During the remaining forty five years Athanasius stood squarely by the doctrine of the Incarnation against overwhelming odds. He spent seventeen years in exile – banished by no less than four different emperors. His essential answer to infidelity of every shade, whether originating from within or from outside the Church was: “This is not the faith of the Catholic Church. This is not the faith of the fathers.” His heroic life presents a compelling human drama pitting the Church against the world, and tested the meaning of fidelity to Christ in ways that were reminiscent of the age of martyrs. This dispute is memorable, not only for what was achieved but for the courage and steadfastness of those who achieved it. May we be so today, as we face challenges to our Faith, from both within the Church and from without, and as we watch them daily becoming increasingly aggressive. St. Athanasius pray for us.
Homily of the Fourth Sunday of Easter, May 3, 2020
ATTENTION
We tend to believe that nobody likes to be wrong, but that isn’t really true; rather, it’s more likely that nobody likes to be corrected because corrections can be pretty brutal; in youth this correction often comes in the form of sarcastic sayings like, “If all your friends jumped off a bridge, would you?” or “Only an idiot would do such a thing.” Nobody likes to be treated like that; however, Most of us can handle being wrong, we can learn from our mistakes; but being corrected is rough because it makes us feel bad, it is a blow to our self-esteem and perhaps the worst thing is that person correcting us seems to think less of us, perhaps even show distain for us.
Regretfully, there are some people out there, and they are a very, very small minority of the people who actually seem to enjoy using correction to put people down, but they are the exception to the rule. Look at the people who correct us: our parents, family, friends and teachers and the not only know us best, they are also the ones who love us the most and correction is meant to help us become better people, so it is actually an incredible thing.
NEED
Incredible things also happen to us when we are a baptized and the two principal effects are purification from sin and new birth in the Holy Spirit. Immersion in water symbolizes not only death and purification but also regeneration and renewal. God begins to dwell within us and we are given the Theological Virtues of Faith, Hope and Charity, the greatest of these is Charity because it is the very sharing in the love of God Himself and one of the fruit of this gift, one of the signs of a Charitable person, is fraternal correction and this means that those people who love us the most correct us not because we are worthless jerks but because we are loved and want us to act in ways that reflect our worth and dignity. Our actions define us and fraternal correction helps us realize that.
SATISFACTION
Fraternal correction is an ancient practice we see carried out by angels and prophets in the Old Testament. It is something done by Jesus frequently in Gospels and was especially directed towards the leaders of society the people today we would call ‘influencers.’ In the oldest Gospel, Jesus’ first words involved fraternal correction, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand; repent, and believe in the gospel” repentance is necessary to enter that kingdom.
This Kingdom of God manifests itself before us in the word, works, and presence of Christ. “The seed and beginning of the Kingdom are the ‘little flock’ of those whom Jesus came to gather around him, the flock whose shepherd he is.” However, like the prophets of old, Jesus’ words were taken as an affront to those who most needed to hear them and they would kill Him for it. Fraternal correction is not for the weak or cowardly, so it is rather surprising to see Peter engaging in it.
VISUALIZATION
Here is the man who denied Christ three times, who had hidden in the upper room afraid for what might happen to him, but on the shores of the sea he encountered the risen Christ, repented of his weakness and let Jesus transform his ability to love into true Charity and today we hear from Peter in both our first and second readings giving fraternal correction and telling us the price of Charity will cost us in a society that doesn’t acknowledge Christ as Lord.
The first reading takes place on the Pentecost, he calls out those who were involved in crucifying our Lord, but he doesn’t do so out of spite because on the Cross Jesus himself forgave his persecutors, and Peter this morning acknowledged that those who condemned Jesus acted in ignorance. He is reaching out to them not to give them a guilt trip but to share the Good News, the Gospel, with them. The Holy Spirit convinces the world of the sin in not believing in Christ whom the Father has sent. This same Spirit is also the Paraclete, the Consoler who gives the human heart the grace of repentance and conversion and was working through Peter.
In the second reading he explains more deeply what it means to be a Christian: Because God the Son has fully assumed our humanity in his Incarnation, the possibility of salvation by his paschal mystery is offered to all men. Christ calls upon us to take up our cross and follow him (Mt 16.24); St. Peter tells us that “Christ also suffered for [us], leaving [us] an example so that [we] should follow in his steps” even to the point of injustice and death.
Christ willed that his mother Mary and his apostles be intimately associated with his redemptive suffering. To James and John, Jesus said, “The cup that I drink you will drink; and with the baptism with which I am baptized, you will be baptized” (Mk 1039). To Peter, Jesus says after his Resurrection: “Truly, truly, I say to you, when you were young, you girded yourself and walked where you would; but when you are old, you will stretch out your hands, and another will gird you and carry you where you do not wish to go” (Jn 21.18). St. John explains that “this he said to show by what death he [Peter] was to glorify God. And after this, he said to him, ‘Follow me’ (Jn 21.19). St. Paul says: “Now I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I complete what is lacking in Christ’s afflictions for the sake of his body, that is, the Church” (Col 1.24).
This incredible gift of Charity not only calls us to fraternal correction but also draws deeper and deeper into the mystery of Christ and the difficulties, even the meaningfulness of sufferings, that love will bring about.
ACTION
More important lessons on Charity are found in our Gospel: we are sheep. The word sheepishly connotes shame and lack of confidence. To be considered a sheep it is a lot like being corrected, nobody wants to admit they are less than they want to be. We like to measure our successes, build our resumes, boast of our achievements; but the bottom line is that no matter how gifted we are, regardless of the number of accolades we get from those around us; we can’t save ourselves. As tough as this lesson is, we must also consider that by being sheep, we have a shepherd who will not only save and that salvation will done for us out of an incredible and powerful love, and then we are called to share in that love. Jesus makes Himself our shepherd because He alone can save us, but also because He wants to save. As a good shepherd he knows our names and is calling out to us.
Accepting that we are sheep is going to be a life-long challenge and Peter gives us a useful way of dealing with this struggle: “Save yourselves from this corrupt generation.” Holiness is always associated with separation from the world and reliance on God. During this time of isolation, I pray we can all make the most of situation to really embrace the holiness it can assist us in attaining. Let us call upon the grace upon grace received through today’s Mass so we can grow in absolute trust and abandonment to God’s Love.
Let’s end with the Surrender Prayer:
Jesus, I surrender myself to you. Take care of everything.
Homily of Monday, May 4, 2020 (Martyrs of England and Wales)
A martyr is a witness. He bears, or she as the case may be, witness to Christ by their death for the faith; faith in Christ. Today we honor certain martyrs in England and Wales, people of the 16th, 17th, and early 18th century, who suffered with their lives, gave everything for the faith, the Catholic faith. We should also remember, however, the other many thousands who suffered for the faith in that time period; who suffered in prison, who lost property, substantial fines, who lost prestige, office, etc. And for everyone who died for the faith, there were many, many thousands who suffered severely for the faith also. And that is not unimportant. For none of us in this country, have died for the faith, as far as I am aware. But all of us probably suffer some humiliation, some loss by our fidelity to Christ, by living a Christian life as best we can, offering the best we can. Because it won’t be popular, it won’t be something people praise us for, etc. Quite the opposite. For all of us, to give witness to Christ, his faith, his church, the redemption he offers, the salvation he offers, in doing so we will find our happiness, our transformation. The martyrs who died that we officially celebrate today suffered horrific deaths – drawn and quartered, hung, pressed to death – horrific deaths; they should inspire us and give us energy and zeal to live the faith strongly. And we should also remember the many thousands who also suffered, for they are also an inspiration for us, for despite loss of property, power and prestige and many other things, they lived faithfully, and experienced the recompense, the consolation of the Spirit, the power of the living God. The early church, in the book of Acts, experienced very powerfully the consolation of the Spirit, the presence of the power of God in their lives, to make all things doable, all things worth the effort, worth the sacrifice. In this life there is much sacrifice if we follow the Lord, various sorts of sacrifice; some very painful sacrifices – friends, family, money, this, that, all sorts of things. But if we have the strength and power of the Spirit, as the early Christians had the power of the Spirit, it’s worth everything and much more. Let us imitate the saints. Let us imitate the martyrs. Both those who gave their lives briefly, and with their deaths there are many thousands of others who gave witness to Christ and suffered often their whole lives, and experienced the recompense of the truth, the power of the Lord, the glory of the Resurrection.
Homily of Tuesday, May 5, 2020
The lack of Mass and communion for so many people is unprecedented, I guess, in the history of the church. But it is meant to teach her something, something that was taught to the Jesuit, Walter Ciszek, who was working as a priest in Soviet Russia at the beginning of the war. He was arrested and tried for spying for the Vatican, and he was kept in prison in Moscow for a fair period – without anything, that is: no Mass, no communion, no breviary, no rosary, nothing. And he suffered so, he thought especially from the lack of Mass, that he finally yielded and signed a confession that he was spy. He was then sent to the Gulag, and he suffered greatly there. But there were other priests there, and he found a Mass. And this is what his reflection on that was: “Sometimes I think that those who have never been deprived of an opportunity to say or hear Mass do not really appreciate what a treasure the Mass is. I know, in any event, what it came to mean to me and the priests I met in the Soviet Union; I know the sacrifices we made and the risks we ran in order just to have a chance to say or hear Mass. When we were constantly hungry in the camps, when the food we got each day was just barely enough to keep us going, I have seen priests pass up breakfast and work at hard labor on an empty stomach until noon in order to keep the Eucharistic fast (and remember, this was at a time when to receive communion you had to have fasted from midnight, and there were no exceptions) – because the noon break at the work site was the time we could best get together for a hidden Mass. I did that often myself. And sometimes, when the guards were observing us too closely and we could not risk saying Mass at the work site, the crusts of bread I had put in my pocket at breakfast remained there uneaten until I could get back to camp and say Mass at night. Or again, during the long arctic summer, when the work days were the longest and our hours of sleep were at a minimum, I have seen priests and prisoners deprive their bodies of needed sleep in order to get up before the rising bell for a secret Mass in a quiet barracks, while everyone else clung to those precious extra moments of sleep. In some ways, we led a catacomb existence with our Masses. We would be severely punished if we were discovered saying Mass, and there were always informers. But the Mass to us was always worth the danger and the sacrifice; we treasured it, we looked forward to it, we would do almost anything in order to say or attend a Mass....”
FATHER GREGORY HAVILL
Homily of Friday, May 8, 2020
“I am the way, the truth and the life.”
Adherents with mystical aspirations to religions and philosophies of the world have typically been directed toward one kind of spiritual pathway or another. In these systems it’s left to man, through his own efforts, to rise, attempting to pass through various degrees of being, in a gradual ascent to union with the divine which remains passive in its own place. Those who are saved are the inward-looking souls.
With the three great monotheistic faiths of Judaism, Islam and Christianity, the opposite is true. God acts first. This is one definition of grace. And without it human effort avails nothing. Here salvation belongs to the believer. Whatever the level of inwardness he may have achieved, a simple factory worker, if he believes and is obedient to the word of revelation, stands closer to God than the greatest pagan ascetic. Only the Faith of Catholics holds the fullness of revelation. For us the Biblical word discloses itself as the Word: a divine Person, Jesus Christ. He does not refer us away to some pathway. Rather he offers himself: “I am the way, the truth and the life.” He is the “way” and we, in him, are on that way to the Father. Our Faith teaches us that man can do nothing of himself; his activity is entirely derivative. Primary activity is God’s, who inexplicably took the first step, bringing salvation to fallen man by sending his only Son, Jesus, into the world in whose face we see the face of the Father, denied to Moses centuries before on Sinai. (Exodus 33:18-34:9) In a stupendous act of divine humility, the Father has come down to us, who had turned our backs on him. We tend to use the word humility incorrectly. It doesn’t describe someone who accedes to the grandeur of another, or who esteems a talent surpassing his own. This isn’t humility but simple honesty. Humility doesn’t look upward in this way. It looks downward. This means that one who is greater bends down to one who is lesser. But more: Christian humility mirrors God’s humility. Humility for the follower of Christ begins only where greatness reverently bows in service before one who is not great. It emulates the humility of his Son, who lowered himself in order to sacrifice his life for man, who is not a noble soul or a sublime being, but a sinner.
St. Benedict understands this. For him humility isn’t just a quality attendant upon the cardinal virtue of Temperance. It saturates every aspect of his teaching. And it represents the particular “way” for his spiritual sons and daughters. In the seventh chapter of the Holy Rule we recall Jacob’s ladder stretching between earth and heaven with angels ascending and descending. As we know, by this ascent and descent we understand that our ascent toward the Father is concurrent with our descent through humility, following the example of his Son. It’s not possible for us to become humble directly by ascetic effort. Instead, St. Benedict stresses our need to acquire a sober awareness of our true selves. His twelve degrees of humility are signposts set up to guide us along this, our specifically monastic “way” through Christ to the Father. Hastening while we have the light of day, may we humbly lose ourselves in order to be found by him. (Mt 10:39)
Homily of Saturday, May 9, 2020
“If you ask anything of me in my name, I will do it.” This powerful verse has been part of my Catholic identity for as long as I can remember. In particular, when I was about six, it became a prevalent prayer in my life. When I was that young, I was the middle child of five, the only boy, and my mother had just told me that she was expecting again. This time, she promised, it would be a brother. We rejoiced! But sadly, several months later, she lost the child. And together we mourned the loss, the loss of what would be. And together, we prayed one night, and she used this quote, “If you really ask Jesus, you will have brothers, I promise you.” And so we prayed, and several months later, she became pregnant again. This would be her last pregnancy, and tragically, it ended in a miscarriage. But this prayer, this prayer stayed with me. We had prayed to Jesus with our whole heart for brothers for me. And even though biologically it seemed impossible at the time, I was filled with a sense of hope that this prayer would somehow be answered. Fast forward thirty years. I entered the monastery, and I instantly got twenty-plus brothers, several of whom were older than my parents, and a couple younger than my nephew and niece. But I knew then that God had answered my prayer in a way that I had never expected, had never hoped...
Homily of Sunday, May 10 (5th Sunday of Easter)
Saint Thomas Aquinas in his Summa asks the question: “What is the greatest cause of unbelief, of not believing in the existence of God?” His answer is very simple – the experience, the existence of evil, of evil of every sort: physical evil, moral evil, evil. Or to put it simply: how can there be a God, a good God, what we mean by God, if there is so much evil in this world. If so often the evil are rewarded, and the good punished. Or to put it more simply: “Why did mommy die when I was so little? Why did this happen? Why did that happen? We did our best. We did what was right, yet we suffered.” And indeed I think that is true – the experience of evil is very hard to bear in a world that supposedly is good, created by a good, loving, just, beneficent God. A distant God is hard to believe in. A God far away, a hidden God – the scripture calls Him a hidden God.
But He’s not hidden. In Jesus Christ the Father is made present. Jesus Christ is the face of the Father, is the Father made present. You can see the love of God, and the justice of God, and the beneficence, the compassion of God, manifest in our Lord Jesus Christ. In His life, and in His death; in his resurrection. He is no longer a hidden God. He is very much present to us, then and now. A crucified God, who experienced every sort of limitation and suffering, humiliation, degradation, pain, even death. Everything he could possibly experience to make this life less than it should be – He’s experienced it much, much more. So the Father is made present in Jesus Christ our Lord. And not just as a good idea, to comfort us, to give us hope for the future. There is a place in paradise that exists for us, a place set aside for us, chosen for us. But even now we can experience the power and the life of the Father. As we see in this same gospel, if we follow the Lord, He will come to us. Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, and dwell within us, in the depths of our being. We become partakers of the divine nature, as 1 Peter says. He dwells with us; His life, His power, His love, His compassion, His energy, His divinity, in all that He is, He comes to us if we follow Him. More and more so, the more we follow Him.
Our hearts should not be troubled, they should not be troubled. If we are troubled, why is it that we should be troubled in this life, a very troubling world we live in? It is because we have not given ourselves sufficiently to the Lord. The more we give ourselves to Him, the more He fills us up. The more we make space for Him, the more He fills us up, His very presence, His very life, God Himself, the Holy Trinity dwelling in us. But our lives are full of triviality, full of nothingness. We keep very busy and very distracted, and there is no place for God in us, there is no place for us in Him. And that is sad and unfortunate, because we are called to great things, wonderful things, to share the life of God Himself. And we have the message of the gospels to remind us and to renew us in that reality. We should not be troubled, because He is the way, the truth, and the life; the fullness of life, the fullness of truth, and the only life. If you want happiness, true happiness, if you want the vitality you are called to, you know you are called to, only He can give it to you. He is the way to the Father. He is the Father made manifest. Let us live our lives in accordance with that truth of the gospel, that He is the Father made present to us. And in following Him we can find the Father. And more importantly, the Father finds us.
Homily of Monday, May 11
We observe this day in honor of the holy abbots of Cluny. The abbey itself was founded in the 10th century, and for the next few centuries it was a leading light in European civilization and in the reform and building of the Church. One of these great abbots was Saint Hugh of Cluny, perhaps the most significant from the point of view of European history. This is what a learned writer says about him: “Though he was the eldest son of an important Burgundian nobleman, Hugh was allowed to be professed a monk of Cluny in Burgundy at an early age, and was elected to the abbacy when only 25. The office carried with it the headship of the influential Benedictine confederation that depended on the abbey and throughout its life grew to be prominent in the councils and other ecclesiastical affairs. He was a wholehearted reformer. Pope after pope, from Leo IX to Paschal II, turned to him for advice and help, and entrusted him with responsible missions to places ranging from Aquitaine to Umbery. He was a man of great psychological insight and diplomatic ability. His integrity and generosity were known to all. When Saint Anselm fell out with King William II of England, it was to Saint Hugh of Cluny that he first went for counsel. And the saintliness of Hugh’s life impressed such various men as Saint Peter Damian, Saint Gregory VII, and William the Conqueror. He continued Saint Odilo’s policy of bringing the constituent monasteries of the Clunaic congregation into closer dependence on the motherhouse. For the sixty years of his abbacy, Cluny had reached the highest point of power and international influence in its long history. But not perhaps without some diminution of its spiritual fervor.” May the abbots of Cluny pray for us monks.
Homily of Wednesday, May 13,
Today May 13, is a significant day. On this day in 1917 Our Lady first appeared to three children in Fatima, Portugal. Among other things, she told them that two of them would soon go to heaven. And two died during the flu pandemic of 1918-19. It was on that first day of Our Lady’s appearance that Pope Pius XII was ordained a bishop. It was on May 13 1981 that Pope St John Paul II was shot. May 13 is a significant day. But every day is a significant day, the first day of the rest of our lives. Momentous things can happen any day…or not. But momentous things don’t always make headlines. Our Lady’s message given to the children…for the world…at the dawn of Communism was simply “repent, pray.” They were given a vison of hell, full of souls who were there partially because no one prayed for them. That was one of the so called secrets. The other two, that without repentance there would be war and suffering, and that the church would be persecuted, are obvious truths humanity chooses to ignore. So what can we do? We are not perfect yet. So each of us can repent of what we each need to, and we can pray for those who need it.
Homily of May 16, 2020 (Readings: Acts 16:1-10; John 15:18-21)
Aristotle wrote famously that we are political animals, that is animals, beings of the polis, of the city, of civil society; that we need others to perfect our natures, to become fully ourselves. I think that is on the whole true: we do need other people, other organizations, other associations to be fully human, truly human. But what happens when the civil society in its ideals and practices is not so beneficial, when it turns against the very ideals that have been given by the gospel? That’s a difficulty. That’s a great difficulty, because we need other people, and we want to be accepted by other people. Acceptance has always been a great danger for us, because we will often give many things up, things we shouldn’t give up, to be accepted, to be one of the crowd, the herd, to be accepted by other folk. That is the world. The world in today’s gospel is not the world as God made it, as He meant it to be, in its fullness of truth and grace and holiness. But a world, society, civil order, a polis touched by original sin and human sin, often turned against the gospel, often opposed to the gospel. And that is difficult for us to accept, because we want to be accepted, because we want to be a part of everybody else. And that is where we need the power of the Holy Spirit, from others who also share that power, which we see in today’s reading from the Book of Acts. That by the power of the Spirit we can deny what the world wants of us. We can challenge what the world wants of us. We can proclaim the gospel, live the gospel, find the consolation of others and of the Spirit, to resist these dangerous and destroying realities. And hopefully, by that very power , bring others the fullness of faith, the fullness of life, the fullness of grace and happiness, etc. Bring it imperfectly in this world to be sure, at the best, but we can try. Certainly we have the power of the Spirit, with others touched by the Spirit, to reject what is opposed to the gospel, to live a coherent truly fulfilled life, and to follow our Lord. The world our Lord calls us to is a world changed by His power, changed by His life, changed by His principles, His maxims. It will bring the fullness of life to everybody, more and more so. It is a great challenge. It is a great difficulty. Much failure, much limitation, many defeats will follow. But also many victories of all sorts. But in the process we will become transfigured, transformed individuals, the graced individuals we are called to be. The fulfilled, civilized individuals, social individuals we are called to be. And so we will fulfill what Aristotle once wrote, because nature has been damaged by sin – and by grace, nature has been made complete.
Homily of Sunday, May 17, 2020
This is an excerpt from the discourse by Pope Saint John XXIII: “The Lord’s Passion and his Resurrection show us that there are two lives, one which we barely live, the other for which we long. Is not Jesus, who deemed to bear his poor earthly life for our sake, able to give us the life we desire? He wants us to believe this, to believe in his love for us, and in his eagerness to share with us his own riches, that once he chose to share our problems. It is because we all have to die that he chose to die too. We all know this already. Our end is our beginning, birth is death. This is common knowledge and clear for all to see in our own sphere. sphere is this earth; the sphere of the angels is heaven. Our Lord came from one sphere to the other: from the realm of life to the realm of death, from the land of bliss to the land of toil and sorrow. He came to bring us his gifts and to bear with patience our sufferings; to bring us his gift in secret, and publicly to bear our ancient lot. To show himself as a man and to conceal his divinity. To appear in the flesh while the divine word was hidden from our eyes. The word was hidden, but it was not silent. It taught us how to endure in patience." May we in this time of trial, for the whole world, learn to endure it and all our trials with patience, looking forward to the joys of heaven.
FR. GREGORY HAVILL
Homily of Tuesday, May 19
The beautiful Kyrie we sang this morning at the beginning of Mass was written over a thousand years ago by St. Dunstan, abbot of Glastonbury and archbishop of Canterbury.
Incredibly, not only do we have this ancient Kyrie written by St. Dunstan, but we actually have his self-portrait, something he drew in a Continental book which he purchased while abroad.
By the time of his birth, about the year 905, Danish invasions and the annexation of monastic property by impoverished Saxon princes had long since closed every regular monastery in England. The semi-monastic community at Glastonbury, where Dunstan was raised, was all that remained of the Benedictine life that had flourished throughout the land at the time of St. Bede, two and a half centuries earlier.
St. Dunstan, assisted by the monk-bishops St. Ethelwold and St. Oswald, during his life endowed England with over fifty abbeys of men and women. In today’s Mass we remember all three of these great restorers of monastic life.
Saint Dunstan composing his Kyrie
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Homily of Ascension Thursday, May 21, 2020
In the reading from the Acts of the Apostles we hear Jesus’ last words to the Apostles: an injunction by the risen Christ to wait. I wonder if they weren’t frustrated by this. You can see that they were ready to get on with things.
But the Gospel says, “They doubted.” Of course they would have gotten it all wrong. Their very question reveals their mis-direction, “Lord are you at this time going to restore the kingdom of Israel?” Jesus wants them to break free of their limited view, their biases and their tendency to misinterpret the meaning of his life. What he also wants is that they witness to him far beyond the boundaries of Israel… to the ends of the earth.” For this they will need help, so they must acknowledge their dependence on God and wait for God’s pleasure to pour that help out on them. They were, and we are, not good at waiting. We tire out if we do not get quick results. Waiting is not what we do well particularly these pandemic days when many are sick and dying, others waiting to get back to some normal. Why is waiting so frustrating? Because it means someone else or some other power is in charge, not us. And being out of control and subject to other forces reminds us of our finiteness, and vulnerability.
Jesus tells the disciples to, “Wait for the promise of the Father.” They are a small, fearful community that has no power on its own and, as the Gospels showed, they have a tendency to get Jesus’ message all wrong. On their own they will be misguided, perhaps engage in ways that are not of Jesus. Haven’t we church people made some pretty big mistakes in our history about his message and ways? We, like the original disciples, have been cowardly when courage was required, even merciless when love and compassion was what Jesus would have wanted.
So the disciples and we too must restrain ourselves and wait for God’ promise to be fulfilled. What’s more, the fulfillment will come at God’s timing, not our own. We tend to be action oriented. We have our projects and plans; we want to get on with things. Even when our plans and intentions are noble and serve a good purpose, how does God figure into them? Waiting on the Spirit is a reversal of our usual mode of operating. We might recall the Emmaus story and the failed and frustrated hopes of the disciples on the road. “We had hoped,” they tell the Stranger. What they had hoped for was their version of triumph and success. But Jesus had to remind them, by interpreting the scriptures, “beginning with Moses and all the prophets,” that suffering was to be part of his life and mission. Jesus, and now the disciples, cannot escape the suffering that comes with fidelity to the message.
So, for the disciples, then and now, who will have to live out and proclaim the Good News, suffering will be the price they and we pay for our belief and for the mission of the Church. We need to wait for the gift of the Spirit who sustains us. We will be witnesses to Jesus by the integrity of our lives and the commitment to his ways. If we are faithful to what his Spirit teaches us wherever we are, whatever our state in life, in school, at work, in politics etc., there will be suffering. Or maybe, in some ways, worse, we will just be ignored, discounted as unrealistic and dismissed as impossible idealists. We will need the gift of the Spirit and the wait is worth it. We need help that we cannot provide for ourselves. We need to hear again what the early church heard in its anguish and yearning, “It is not for you to know the times or seasons that the Father has established by God’s own authority.” How difficult it is for us to hear these words surrounded, as we are, by the kind of events we see and hear on the news, or on the internet. What we do have is the belief that Christ reigns and will always send the Holy Spirit to help us live as we must. We cannot force the hand of this Spirit, it is a gift constantly coming upon us but one requiring discernment. And one that still requires waiting.
Homily of Friday, May 22, 2020
No pain, no gain. I am sure most have heard this phrase before. No pain, no gain. And like most clichés, it is both profoundly crude and simplistic, and profoundly true. All good things demand some degree of suffering, some degree of difficulty, some degree of effort, because even the most passive suffering and difficulty demand our cooperation, our acceptance, our transformation of those difficulties. No pain, no gain. Great things, good things, only come with difficulty – the true ones at least. We see this same idea in the example our Lord uses in today’s gospel (Jn 16:20-23). Having a child is a difficult thing. Birthpangs are a very difficult reality; nine months pregnancy is a difficult reality. But a great benefit comes when a new child is born into this world, a new life, something extraordinary. Through great difficulty, through great suffering, through great cooperation in all of these things – our participation, our cooperation – great things can happen. The monastic tradition has another phrase very similar to this: give blood and receive the spirit. Give blood and receive the spirit. This goes back to the desert fathers. If we want the great joy and power and life which the Holy Spirit gives us, that the Lord won for us by his death and resurrection, and offers to us through his Ascension and the Pentecost, then we have to cooperate and deal with life’s difficulties and trials and sufferings, and even be active in all of them. Nothing comes cheaply. Nothing comes for free. Nothing comes passively. Suffering and difficulty can be destructive; we have seen that many times. Or, it can be transforming. It is up to us how we use it, how we actively use it: like it is something that is transformative for us, healing for us, transcendent for us. We also have to apply ourselves. Nothing comes free. There is no free lunch. If we give ourselves to the Lord completely, as much as we can, more and more so every day, by a life of virtue, prayer, sacrifice, etc. – of conversion, of penance – if we go through those difficulties, and it takes real effort, real suffering. Real suffering happens in this world. Even if you don’t try, real suffering happens. If we do that, an enormous gift is given us, the gift of the spirit, the power and joy, consolation, transformation the Spirit offers us, as a woman goes to great suffering to bear her child, to bring a new life into the world. So to go through many difficulties in life, is it worth the effort? Yes, it is. If we do well with our difficulties and sufferings, we make them active realities, cooperative realities. If we apply ourselves, for some virtue or holiness, a great good comes to us. So, as the apostles were seen as disconsolate when Christ was leaving them, in this period of suffering and difficulty, so we will experience sufferings and difficulty. We must live through them, use them well and grow from them, and so experience the power of the life that our Lord calls us to. In life there will always be suffering. Until the day you die, there will be suffering. How you use it is up to you.
Homily of Saturday, May 23, 2020
Our Lord says in the gospel that we should ask the Father in his name. And it is a matter of revelation to us that God speaks to the human race and we, human beings, are meant to speak to God. God wants us to speak to Him. In an essay in his book Keep the Faith, by the then Cardinal Ratzinger, now Pope Emeritus Benedict, he takes up some modern philosophers, maybe all modern philosophers, who deny this, that there is a God, or if there is a God that He is in communication directly with the human race, that there is not the dialogue going on which is more or less understood by the Christian and Jewish revelation. He speaks of Karl Jaspers, especially in this respect. In any case, Pope Benedict insists that no, He does speak to us, and He desires that we speak to Him, in what we call prayer. And he says: “We can only say Abba (Father) together with Christ. Only in fellowship with him can we recognize the world’s ground (that is God) in a way which invites our Yes.” I suppose that is the ultimate thing we should say to God, is that word yes. “Apart from the Son, the Father remains ambivalent and strange. It is Jesus who turns the scales of the Old Testament and makes its message clear. “Patrocentrism” (that is, the centrality of the Father), that is, the Abba (Father), presupposes the Christological character of prayer (that is, our basis for prayer is in Christ). It is the Son that guides us along the path of purification which leads to the door of the Yes. So Christian prayer depends on our continually looking to Christ, talking with him, being silent with him, listening to him, doing and suffering with him.” May we have the grace to do those things.
FATHER MICHAEL BRUNNER
Homily of the 7th Sunday of Easter; Mass for the Graduates; May 24, 2020
Today we celebrate the graduation of our class of 2020, in a very different way than any of us planned or wanted. The Book of Ecclesiastes says: Consider the work of God. Who can make straight what God has made crooked? On a good day enjoy good things, and on an evil day consider: Both the one and the other God has made, so that no one may find the least fault with him. God knows better than we do what is best, and can bring good out of what we only see as bad. God loves to surprise us, and perhaps today is a day of surprise. The first reading today names Jesus prized students, his apostles, and speaks about them right after their graduation, as it were…Jesus’ Ascension. That was the moment Jesus their teacher left them so they could put into practice what he taught them. They weren’t promising material to start with.
There were two clusters of them: fishermen from Galilee and followers of John the Baptist, also from Galilee, which was where Jesus was from. Galilee was not where the beautiful people were from. It was not known for scholars; it did not have tier 1 rabbinical schools. It did not even have tier 5 rabbinical schools. It and its people were rather like the way we used to view Appalachia in this country. There was Andrew, brother of a fisherman and a follower of John the Baptist; he was perhaps the first to recognize who Jesus was, and he roped in his brother Peter, a married man who owned his own fishing boat. There was James and his younger brother John, from a family of some means but still sons of a fisherman and who worked on his boat; they were first cousins of Jesus; Jesus called them sons of thunder; they were loud, precocious, ambitious and their mother thought them very special. They too were followers of John the Baptist who left to follow Jesus for a while and then went back to fishing, before suddenly giving it all up and suddenly quitting their jobs and leaving their father on the boat. There was Philip (from the same town as Peter and Andrew,) also a follower of John the Baptist, who then roped in Bartholomew, and introduced him to Jesus. And there was Matthew, a despised extorting tax collector who cooperated with the Romans. There was Thomas, the skeptic. There was another James (also a cousin of Jesus) son of Alphaeus, and Judas the son of James, not the Judas the apostle who turned against Jesus. And finally Simon the Zealot, a devout pharisee and Jewish nationalist.
In the Gospel today Jesus says about these Apostles in his prayer: I will no longer be in the world, but they are in the world. Today you graduates too are going out in the world, a different world than the one you have known here, a world in which you will have more freedom and responsibility, and more opportunity: to build upon what you have learned in your time here. It would be sad if you have not now become different from what and how you were when you first came here. Those apostles had changed from when they began, but on the first days when they were left on their own they were hesitant and frightened. Jesus knew that they would be, so he told them to wait. In a short ten days they were overcome by the Holy Spirit and they became men on a mission and they changed the world. How have you changed and how will you change the world? We hope that while you were here with us at Portsmouth Abbey you came to better understand yourself, your best self and the God-ness within you, but most importantly, we hope you encountered that primary face of God – the One, The Only, The Holy, and Totally Other, the perfect community of persons – The Father, Son and Holy Spirit, whom we worship here this morning. That God is the mirror in which we see and find our best selves. We truly hope and pray you will meet and recognize a new face of God in a loving community at the college or university to which you will now be going.
Now the Gospel of St. Mark says of the liberated Apostles: “they went forth and preached everywhere, while the Lord worked with them and confirmed the word through accompanying signs.” Today you are going forth, out into new and separate parts of this country and the world, and you will carry there signs of what you stand for. I hope you will take to the places you go and to the people you meet all that you have learned here. And you have learned more than you realize, as you shall soon see for yourselves. If you truly learned how to form and be a community, you have learned something truly important. Such unity and harmony does not come easy to people. After just a few years of college, our time, the time of this world will be truly your time.
In the letter he wrote to the Church, St Peter tells us: “Always be ready to give an explanation to anyone who asks you for a reason for your hope, but do it with gentleness and reverence, keeping your conscience clear.” The world desperately needs you to explain your hope and the reason for it. The world desperately needs you and your gifts. It needs you to grow them and produce fruit in larger fields. As you have shared your gifts with us, and we have shared our gifts with you, share the gifts each of you has for the needs of the world that Jesus came to save. The world needs the gift of your faith, your witness to the eternal truth of God’s love, because the world needs true love more than anything else. And faith in that love is the best possible witness, because the world you are going into has little regard for what cannot be proven or demonstrated by science or that cannot serve utilitarian principles; and you cannot prove love or God in laboratories or test tubes. The greatest commandment is to love God with your whole being, and to love your neighbor as yourself, because your neighbor is the image of God. The world needs good, loving neighbors. The world needs you to confirm the word of God’s love in your lives. The world needs your gifts in the sciences and the humanities, because science and the world are always in danger of and from inhumanity. The world needs your courage. There’s a very good reason that the nations of the world use young men and women to fight in their wars. It is because you have courage, strong hearts. To paraphrase a sound byte from General Patton, the world needs you not to give up your life for a cause but to live your life for a reason, beyond your self. That takes real courage. That’s the reason that those apostles were relatively young, some very young… because they found the best reason to live and love for, and yes even die for. A love that is not worth defending unto death when and if necessary is not a love worth living for. The world needs your dreams and visions, because the dreams that individual talented men and women pursue are the dreams that come true, and become a reality for everyone. Now your time is coming as you enter college, to focus sharply your sights on your dreams, dreams which you will spend your lives in bringing to reality. I hope you find that the seeds of those dreams were planted or at least watered here at Portsmouth Abbey. So like those Apostles turned loose into the world, be men and women full of hope.
There will be good days and bad days, good times and hard times. It’s hard to hope sometimes: when, by all measurable means, things are falling apart; when human logic tempts us to give up “Forget about it.” We need what gave Jesus himself strength, hope and confidence. In a word... we need the Holy Spirit. Jesus made a promise to his Apostles that he would not leave us orphans, struggling on our own, but that he would send us an advocate, the Holy Spirit. It is a promise he kept. So it’s good advice for all of us, young and old: be men and women full of hope. May what you have learned and experienced here at guide and protect you for the rest of your lives. Know that this family, this Abbey family, your family, is always here for you.
FATHER EDWARD MAZUSKI
Homily of Monday, May 25, 2020 (Venerable Bede; Memorial Day)
Today, we celebrate the feast of St. Bede the Venerable, a monk who lived around the year 700 AD. He was a monk of Jarrow, a part of a double-monastery founded along the Roman monastic model by St. Benet Biscop in the late 7th century. St. Bede was a major scholar, declared a father of the Church by Pope Leo XIII in 1899. He wrote many theological works, primarily in the form of commentaries or homilies, largely inspired by the Church Fathers, the theologians who had helped to develop some of the most essential doctrines of the Church in the first few centuries after Christ. However, his most well-known work is a historical work, the Ecclesiastical History of the English People. This follows the evangelization of the island, focusing on the gradual unity that developed across England, at his time a series of Anglo-Saxon kingdoms with political autonomy, as the formerly-pagan kingdoms convert to Christianity, and the date of Easter is standardized to match Rome, instead of Irish customs. Although he wasn’t the first to do it, he also helped to spread the measurement of time in terms of years from the birth of Christ, rather than years into the reign of a king, a measuring system we still use today.
Bede lived during a period known as the Northumbrian Golden Age, a period of cultural flourishing that lasted for about 100 years in the kingdom of Northumbria, in Northern England. Besides the works of St. Bede, this period of time also produced the famous illuminated Lindisfarne Gospels, and St. Alcuin, one of the most important members of the court of Charlemagne, known as the most learned man in Europe at the time and a major educational reformer, as well as the student of one of St. Bede’s students.
However, this golden age would not last. In 794, just 59 years after the death of St. Bede, the monastery he had lived at from the age of 7, which housed many of the books he used to research his history, and for his own personal study, would be attacked and sacked by the Vikings. Not long after, Jarrow would be completely destroyed and abandoned. Although most of Saint Bede’s works had spread by that time, and were therefore able to survive, many other works housed in Monastery Libraries would be lost as the Vikings targeted them for their wealth. This external invasion would initiate a period of frequent war throughout the British Isles, that would last until the 11th century, ultimately ending with a united England under Norman rule.
This brings us to today’s secular holiday: Memorial Day. As Americans, today is the day when we commemorate the multitude of brave men and women who have died for us, the many men and women throughout history who lost their lives ensuring that something like the Viking invasion that ended the Northumbrian Golden Age does not happen to us.
Although the day is specifically designated to pray for those who have lost their lives in the armed forces, it is also worth remembering and praying for the men and women who have lost their lives in our fight against the Coronavirus as well. When St. Bede was a young student at Jarrow, a majority of the monastery was killed by the plague. Even in times of cultural flourishing, plague and pandemic pose great risk. It is due primarily to the tireless efforts of thousands of health-care workers around the world, all of whom risk contracting the Coronavirus, that we do not fear anything similar to that.
FATHER PASCHAL SCOTTI
Homily of Thursday, May 28, 2020
As Our Lord tells us in today’s gospel (Jn 17:20-26), the world did not know the righteous Father; did not know the true face, the true nature of God. Even the Jews, the chosen people, did not know the true nature of God, know the Father. That’s why we create a caricature of Old Testament days – vengeful, mercurial, capricious. But there’s a lot more to the Old Testament than just those elements. But they are there, they are there, because even the Jews did not know the full nature, the true nature of God, of the righteous Father. But Jesus Christ revealed the true nature of the Father, the righteous Father, the true nature of God; the Son of God made man; the face of God made apparent to all of us, so we may know the Father – truly, really. Not just as a notion, as an idea, a model, an exemplar or whatever, but to know Him personally, palpably, intrinsically spiritually, truly. To know him not as a notion, to know him in person as a fact: the Spirit makes that possible. … Our Lord reveals to the world the Father, the righteous Father. But only the Holy Spirit can make that knowledge real, make it transforming, make it effectual, make it all consuming, so we share the life of the Father, the love of the Father… all the power and glory given to Christ, to be given to us. But we can’t do that, we can’t receive that, be transformed by that, unless we make ourselves open to these realities of the Spirit: turn away from sin and evil, turn away from worldliness and triviality and mediocrity. God is offering His spirit always and grace always, His power of life always, but we are ignoring it, deflecting it. We are more into other things, many things interest us, fascinate us, take us away from the true life, the life of the Father. In a few days we will celebrate Pentecost revealing the full nature of God in the Holy Spirit; experiencing… knowledge and love of the Father. Let us prepare for it by turning away from sin and triviality and worldliness. (There is a ) place for us which the Father can occupy, which the Son can occupy, which the Holy Spirit can occupy, the Holy Trinity in its fullness and occupy, so we too can know the Father, the righteous Father, as he truly is, as Christ reveals Him to us, and how the Spirit makes possible.
FATHER FRANCIS HEIN
Homily of Friday, May 29, 2020
It’s been over a decade since the phrase, “Love is love,” became politicized and became a rallying cry for equality. Being a cynical person, the first time I heard that phrase, “Love is love,” I thought, “These people have never studied Greek,” where there are numerous words for love. But deep down inside me there was a great pity, because love is not love, and if you could read Greek, and read this gospel in Greek, you would see that the dialogue between Jesus and Peter uses two different words for love. Peter is using the word for fraternal love, love between brothers or close family members - something that was assumed to be the highest love. And Jesus is using the word “agape” - a much more powerful, a much more personal, deeper, and profound love. Peter shows his limited ability to love in our gospel, but Christ, through his grace and his abounding love, is going to transform Peter’s love into something much more powerful. This will be a love that will help Peter’s not become equal to his, but to rise in his relationship with God and ...to face one of the most humiliating and painful kind of deaths that mankind could face in his day, all for the sake of a love that is greater than anything man can know.
ABBOT MATHEW STARK
Homily of Saturday, May 30 2020
Yesterday, our Lord was concerned, it seemed, about love, but about Peter’s love for him (John 21: 15-19). And Peter seems to have said the right thing. But, as usual with Peter, as soon as he says something right, he gets it wrong and gets slapped down. And today we saw him told: mind your own business (John 21:20-25). And that is something, probably, our Lord might say to any one of us, many times. Mind your own business. You have your vocation. You have your duties. Make sure that you take care of that, and don’t worry about your brothers. However, He is concerned about love, and here are three texts about love in our religion. The first is in John Henry Newman’s Parochial and Plain Sermons, in one of them he says, “All Christ’s disciples, even the most devoted of them, loved him a lot less than they thought they did.” If that is true, than that may be what is behind our Lord’s three questions about Peter’s love, that our Lord asked Peter yesterday. And this is from Saint Augustine. Saint Augustine in one of his sermons, has God say: “I am talking to the difficult. I am talking to the greedy.” I guess that’s us: the difficult, the greedy. We love money. Love me just as much, says God to us: “Love me just as much as you love money.” The next quote is from Dorothy Day. One of her frequent quotes was, “You love God as much as the one you love least.” You love God as much as the one you love least. May we grow in love and learn how to mind our own business.