27 August 2023

Homily - 26 August 2023 - The TWenty-first Sunday in Ordinary Time (A)

 Dear brothers and sisters,

Throughout the course of the liturgical year, the Church celebrates the life of the Savior and organizes the year around his life. The year begins with the anticipation of his return in glory at the end of all things and with the joy of his first coming at Bethlehem in the season of Advent; it ends with the celebration of his universal and cosmic kingship, almost as if with two identical spiritual bookends. In between these we commemorate his Birth, Passion, Death, Resurrection, and Ascension in the seasons of Christmas, Lent, and Easter. Throughout the rest of the year we celebrate other events in his life and ministry, particularly his healings and his teaching. All of this is done to enable us to experience his life in its fullness.

But because the Saints of God have been inserted into the Mystical Body of Christ and are inseparable from their Head, the Church rightly commemorates these holy men and women throughout the liturgical year, usually on the anniversaries of their earthly deaths. The Church does this in the midst of her celebration of the various events and aspects in the life of the Lord Jesus because they are part of his Body. Ordinarily, today would be one such day, the memorial of Saint Monica, the mother of Saint Augustine of Hippo. Why, then, do we not commemorate Saint Monica in today’s celebration of the Holy Mass?

The answer has to do with the rankings assigned to the different liturgical celebrations, ranging from memorials both optional and obligatory, feasts, and solemnities, first of the saints and then of the Lord. Sundays are always observed as solemnities and so trump every day except other solemnities that outrank them, such as the Solemnity of Christmas. Before we consider solemnities, let us first return to Saint Monica (she is too import to simply skip over).

Follower of Master of Guillebert de Mets, Saint Augustine and Saint Monica
From a Book of Hours, MS M 357, fol. 194r

Sometime about the year 332, Monica was born in the north African city of Thagaste, in what is today Souk Ahras, Algeria. She married Patricius, who was a pagan, a member of the city senate, and together they had three children: Augustine, Navigius, and Perpetua. Monica was a Christian but Patricius would not consent to have the children baptized, which caused her some distress.

When Augustine was seventeen, he left home to study rhetoric at Madauros. He later moved to Carthage, then to Rome, and later to Milan where his life irrevocably change, both for his own benefit and for ours. While in Carthage, he abandoned the Christian faith Monica had taught him and began to follow a dualistic philosophy that effectively taught there exists a battle between a good god and an evil god. Monica became even more distraught when Augustine habitually took up a concubine with whom he cohabited for many years, with whom he had a son, Adeodatus.

Year after year, Monica poured out her heart to God, begging for the conversion of her son to the life of faith. She followed Augustine everywhere, becoming something of the epitome of the overbearing mother. She asked many people for help in bringing her Son out of his sinful way of life, including the Bishop of Milan whom she implored to meet with her son and talk him out of his sinfulness. The bishop refused, knowing Augustine was not yet ready for such a conversion. But, as Augustine tells us,

She pressed him with more begging and with floods of tears, asking him to see me and debate with me. He was now irritated and a little vexed and said, “Go away from me; as you live, it cannot be that the son of these tears should perish.” In her conversations with me she often used to recall that she had taken these words as if they sounded from heaven.[1]

For seventeen years, Monica’s tears flowed freely on behalf of her son and her prayers were at last answered. Augustine sent his concubine away, received baptism, and afterwards lived a holy life, becoming one of the greatest and most important saints the Church has known. Monica died at the Roman port of Ostia in 387.

 

Whenever we turn to the example of Saint Monica, we are reminded of

 

How many difficulties there are also today in family relations and how many mothers are in anguish at seeing their children setting out on wrong paths! Monica, a woman whose faith was wise and sound, invites them not to lose heart but to persevere in their mission as wives and mothers, keeping firm their trust in God and clinging with perseverance to prayer.[2]

 

However painful these situations may be, Saint Monica reminds us there is always hope that the children of many tears should not perish. Mothers, particularly, can always look to Saint Monica for an example of living the Christian virtues of faith, hope, and love in the most difficult of circumstances.

 

The Church remembers her son and our patron the day after she remembers Saint Monica. For most of the Church, the liturgical commemoration of a Saint is a memorial, but because he is our patron his day here rises to a solemnity. What does this mean for us here at St. Augustine’s Parish?

 

In our society today, we tend to associate solemnities with somberness and sobriety. While the origin of the word solemn is uncertain, it seems to be connected with the Proto-Indo-European word sol, meaning “well-kept.” In Latin, solemn took on the characteristics of an annual, formal, religious ceremony.

Liturgically speaking, when we observe a solemnity the finest appointments that a church has should be used, from altar cloths and candlesticks to chalices and books. When the commemoration of a saint is raised to a solemnity, a second reading is added. Six candlesticks can be used instead of two or four. Flowers may adorn the sanctuary. A higher level of music can be employed. In short, whatever can be done to keep the day well should be done. This ought to be true both within the physical body of the church building, as well as within the spiritual body of our lives. To keep a solemnity well is to live the day differently than other days. The medieval Church knew this; we have regrettably forgotten it.

If we consider the true purpose of a festive communal celebration, as should happen on a solemnity, we know 

the feast also echoes man's vital needs, and is deeply rooted in his longing for the transcendent. The feast, with its manifestations of joy and rejoicing, is an affirmation of the value of life and creation. The feast is also an expression of integral freedom and of man's tendency towards true happiness, with its interruption of daily routine, formal conventions, and of the need to earn a living… As a social moment, the feast is an occasion to strengthen family relations and to make new contacts.[3]

We can, perhaps, summarize this basic mindset behind the true understanding of celebration more simply:

To celebrate a feast is to allow man to participate in God's lordship over creation, and in His active "rest," rather than in any form of laziness. It is an expression of simple joy, rather than unlimited selfishness. It is an expression of true liberty rather than an occasion for ambiguous amusement which creates new and more subtle forms of enslavement.[4]

Both Saint Monica and Saint Augustine found this expression of true liberty and of simple joy here on earth by remaining close to the Lord. May their examples and intercession help us to find it here, as well, so we might eternally enjoy its fullness with them before the Face of God. Amen.



[1] Saint Augustine of Hippo, Confessions, III.xii.21.

[2] Pope Benedict XVI, Angelus Address, 27 August 2006.

[3] Directory on Popular Piety and the Liturgy, 232.

[4] Ibid., 233.

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