Homily - 25 January 2013

Mass Before the March for Life

The Solemnity of the Conversion of Saint Paul

 

My brother priests and deacons, consecrated men and women, seminarians, parents and chaperones, my dear young friends, Pilgrims for Life: May the Lord give you peace!

I bring you greetings from His Excellency the Most Reverend Thomas John Paprocki, Bishop of Springfield in Illinois, and in his name I thank you for your presence here today and for your invaluable witness to life.  He wishes he could be here with you today and is remembering you in his prayers, especially at the altar of the Lord.  Let us remember him in our prayers, as well.

When Bilbo Baggins returned to his hole in the hill after his adventure with thirteen dwarves and a dragon, the wizard Gandalf said to Bilbo, “Something is the matter with you!  You are not the hobbit that you were.”[1]  Indeed, having gone to Lonely Mountain and back again, Bilbo lost the respect of his neighbors, but he won the esteem of the great lords of Middle earth.

In the very dangers and marvels in which he found himself with Thorin and Company, Bilbo encountered something numinous – we might say it was grace – and he was never the same because of it.  His adventure, then, was more than an adventure; it was a pilgrimage, though he did not know it when he left his comfortable hobbit hole.

As we celebrate today the Feast of the Conversion of Saint Paul, we see that he, too, encountered something – rather someone – numinous during his travels on the road to Damascus; he encountered Jesus Christ, whom he had been persecuting, risen from the dead, and he would never be the same because of it (cf. Acts 22:8).  His journey, then, was more than a journey, though he did not know it at the start; it, too, was a pilgrimage of sorts.

Whenever we think of Saint Paul’s conversion and how it occurred, Pope Benedict XVI reminds us that 

we may be tempted to linger too long on certain details, such as the light in the sky, falling to the ground, the voice that called him, his new condition of blindness, his healing like scales falling from his eyes and the fast that he made.  But all these details refer to the heart of the event: the Risen Christ appears as a brilliant light and speaks to Saul, transforms his thinking and his entire life.  The dazzling radiance of the Risen Christ blinds him; thus what was his inner reality is also outwardly apparent, his blindness to the truth, to the light that is Christ.  And then his definitive “yes” to Christ in Baptism restores his sight and makes him really see.[2]

On the day of our baptisms, the light of Christ shone brightly before us, as well, and we also gave our definitive “yes” to Jesus Christ.  It is this great yes - by which we have entrusted the entirety of our lives to the Lord - that has brought us here together in faith in our nation’s capital city.

Like Bilbo and Saint Paul, we, too, have set out from our respective homes on a journey.  And like Bilbo, we know at least where we are going and that we intend go back again; like Saint Paul, we are zealous for God, or at least we hope to be when we, too, return changed (cf. Acts 22:3).  But unlike Bilbo, we have not set out on a mere adventure, and unlike Saint Paul, we have already encountered the Risen Lord.  Why, then, have we set out on a long ride through the night, through cold and snow, only to stand around a long time to walk through crowded streets in the cold, and possibly in the snow?  From a pragmatic perspective, it seems rather foolish, but we know, as Bilbo knew about adventures, that pilgrimages “are not all pony-rides in May-sunshine;” a pilgrimage necessarily entails a sharing in the Cross of our Lord Jesus Christ.[3]

To be sure, we have set out not as adventures, not as tourists, but as pilgrims; this we must not forget.  An adventurer seeks a tale to tell; a tourist looks for a quick image to capture or a meal to enjoy; but a pilgrim searches for the face of God (cf. Psalm 42:3).

Today, in the streets of Washington, D.C., we will join hundreds of thousands of others in the great March for Life.  In so doing, we take up the command of the Lord to “go out to all the world and tell the Good News” of God’s love (Mark 16:15).  We come in peaceful protest of the terrible – in the true sense of that word – decision of the Supreme Court Roe vs. Wade.

As you know, this decision legalized the killing of unborn children through the despicable practice known as abortion.  Since that horrid day on January 22, 1973, more than 55 million babies have been killed in this nation alone.

To put that number in some perspective, some 1.5 million Americans have been killed in every war in which this country has fought since 1775.  Put another way, the number of children killed by abortion each year is this country is greater than the present populations of the States of Illinois, Missouri, Indiana, Wisconsin, Ohio, and Tennessee combined.  To put it even more starkly, in the same span of time in which more than 55,000,000 children were aborted in our land, just 133,115,440 were born.  The number is staggering.  And terribly sad.

All of this in this nation founded on the very principle that “all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.”[4]  These rights, we say, are “self-evident,” though many in our day are, like Saul once was, blinded to the truth.  We march today and speak for those who cannot speak for themselves; we ask for the recognition of their same inalienable right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

Today, dear brothers and sisters, let us remember that we come as humble pilgrims of peace who seek not only to share in the sufferings of Christ for the redemption of the world, but also to imitate him in his Passion.  Saint Paul knew the power of redemptive suffering very well.  He realized it so well that he wrote, “Now I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I am filling up what is lacking in the afflictions of Christ on behalf of his body, which is the church” (Colossians 1:24).  What is more, the Lord Jesus said to him, “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness” (IICorinthians 12:9).

Today we march not with power, but with weakness; not with anger, but with love.  We come in imitation of Our Lord who, when mocked and taunted, reviled and beaten, “though harshly treated, he submitted and did not open his mouth” (Isaiah 53:7).  We cannot forget what the philosopher Peter Kreeft has wisely observed: 

The weakness of evil is that it cannot conquer weakness.  No matter how much power evil has, it is always defeated by the free, loving renunciation of power.  It can be defeated in Middle-earth as it was on Calvary: by martyrdom.  Scripture’s image of the last battle between good and evil is a battle between two mythical beasts: Arnion, the meek little Lamb, and Therion, the terrible dragon beast.  And the Lamb overcomes the Beast by a secret weapon: His own blood. 

Evil is limited to power; it cannot use weakness.  It is limited to pride; it cannot use humility.  It is limited to inflicting suffering and death; it cannot use suffering and death.  It is limited to selfishness; it cannot use selflessness.  But good can.[5]

 

It is with this weakness, humility, suffering, death, and selflessness that we march today; we march in the name of the One who is Goodness itself.

Having received baptism into the Death and Resurrection of the Lord Jesus, let us call upon his name, imploring him to open the eyes of those blinded to the slaughter of so many innocents.  Let us ask also the intercession of Saint Paul whose own eyes were opened to the truth of Jesus Christ, to him who is “the way and the truth and the life,” that those who are blinded by selfishness and greed may be converted from the Culture of Death to the Culture of Life, the Culture of Love (cf. Acts 22:16; John 14:6).

On our way to the Supreme Court, let us also humbly ask to encounter the Lord ourselves, that our hearts, too, may be changed and filled with an ever greater love of God and of neighbor.  Let us pray that our walking and witnessing today will bring us into greater conformity with the Person of Jesus Christ so that, on seeing us on our return home, others may rightly say, “You are not the person that you were.”  May we, and all who see us this day, know that “steadfast is his kindness toward us, and the fidelity of the Lord endures forever” (Psalm 117:2).

By our presence here today we may lose the respect of our neighbors, but will win the esteem of the friends of God.  Amen.

---

[1] J.R.R. Tolkien, The Hobbit: Or There and Back Again (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 2001), 4.

[2] Pope Benedict XVI, General Audience Address, 3 September 2008.

[3] J.R.R. Tolkien, The Hobbit: Or There and Back Again (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 2001), 37.

[4] The Declaration of Independence, July 4, 1776.

[5] Peter Kreeft, The Philosophy of Tolkien: The Worldview Behind The Lord of the Rings.  (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 2005), 184-185.

Homily - 25 January 2009 - The Feast of the Conversion of Saint Paul

I am finally posting last weekendn's homily.

The Feast of the Conversion of Saint Paul

As we continue to observe this Year of Saint Paul, it is a special joy for us to celebrate today the Feast of the Conversion of Saint Paul. Today’s Feast is a reminder to each of us of the central and necessary place of conversion in our lives.

It was on the road to Damascus that the Lord Jesus illuminated Paul “and from that moment all his energy was placed at the exclusive service of Jesus Christ and his Gospel. His existence would become that of an Apostle who wants to ‘become all things to all people’ (I Corinthians 9:22) without reserve.”[1]

The average reader, perhaps, might be tempted to pause too long on certain details, such as the light from the sky, the fall to the ground, the voice that called, the new state of blindness, the curing when something like scales fall from his eyes and the fasting. However, all these details point to the heart of the event: The Risen Christ appeared as a splendid light and addressed Saul, transforming his thinking and his very life. The splendor of the Risen One left him blind; presenting also externally what the interior reality was, his blindness in regard to the truth, to the light, which is Christ. And then, his definitive “yes” to Christ in baptism reopens his eyes, and makes him truly see.[2]

In the first centuries of the Church, the Sacrament of Baptism was often called the “Illumination,” “because this sacrament gives light, makes one truly see.”[3] This is what happened to Saint Paul, and this is what happens to each of us, as well. The eyes of faith are opened and Christ, the Light of the World, shines not only upon us, but within us, as well (cf. John 8:12). This is why the Savior says to us, “You are the light of the world” (Matthew 5:14).

How well does our light shine? If someone were to observe the course of our day, would they recognize us a follower of Jesus Christ, as a member of what Saint Paul called the “Way” (Acts 22:4)? Would they find us adhering to the path laid out by Christ, or would they find us picking and choosing our own way?

This Way that we follow is more than a set of regulations and rules; it is – in the end – a relationship with Jesus Christ. This Way is a way of living, of thinking, of loving. This Way both comes from Christ and leads to him. We see, then, that

What counts is to place Jesus Christ at the center of our lives, so that our identity is marked essentially by the encounter, by communion with Christ and with his Word. In his light every other value is recovered and purified from possible dross.[4]

If we do not stick to this Way – if we do not live lives centered on Christ and guided by his teachings – we cannot claim to follow the Lord.

Saint Paul knew that this Way is not always easy, but he also knew the life and the freedom that comes from a deep devotion to Christ. For this reason he endured countless hardships and sufferings for the sake of Christ and of his Gospel. Paul never shied away from speaking the truth, regardless of what it would cost him. He knew that what was most important was to always ask, as he did on the road to Damascus, “What shall I do, sir” (Acts 22:10)? This question, we, too, must ask each day. The question that guides our life should never be, “What do I want?” but “What does the Lord want?”

We know that this past week our nation experienced an historic day with the inauguration of President Obama. But we also know that there are things to regret about this historic day, for we now have as our President most anti-life politician our nation has known.

On Friday, just one day after the March for Life protesting the Supreme Court decision Roe vs. Wade that legalized abortion - President Obama signed an executive order lifting a ban on federal funding of groups overseas who promote and perform abortions. Clearly, this is a large step backwards from what is civilized and noble.

President Obama is already preparing to sign an executive order that will lift federal restrictions on embryonic stem cell research, despite the fact that such research – despite all the hype – has not yielded one single medical advance. Adult stem cell research, on the other hand, has yielded at least eighty-three medical advances.

And most importantly and tragic, President Obama is intent on signing the so-called Freedom of Choice Act the moment it comes to his desk. As you know, the Freedom of Choice Act, if passed, will require doctors and hospitals to perform abortions, even if doing so violates their conscience; etc.

Some two thousand years ago, no one thought that Julius Caesar would actually cross the Rubicon river with his troops, enter the city of Rome and declare himself Emperor. But he did. A few decades ago, no one thought a man by the name of Adolf Hitler would actually launch an extermination of the Jews. But he did. A few years ago, no one thought the day would come when this nation would inject a saline solution into a womb to burn a baby’s skin until it died. But it did. No one thought the day would come when various instruments would be used to sever an infant’s limbs in the womb. But it did. No one thought the day would come when a child’s brain would be removed with a small vacuum. But it did. All of this came to pass, and if we do not act now and decisively, it is about to get much worse.

We can no longer sit idly by. The time has come for us to make our voices heard, to adhere to the Way laid out by Christ. In the words of Justin Cardinal Rigali, the time has come for us to continue and increase our “respectful and impassioned protest” in defense of the unborn and of all human life.

Saint James reminds us that “faith without works is dead” (James 2:20). And Saint John reminds us, “If anyone says “I love God,” but hates his brother, he is a liar; for whoever does not love a brother whom he has seen cannot love God whom he has not seen” (I John 4:20).
Let us all follow the words of Saint Paul: “Be imitators of me as I am of Christ” (I Corinthians 11:1). Let each of us proclaim the Gospel of Life and hold those in public service accountable to the Truth.

[1] Pope Benedict XVI, Wednesday Audience Address, 25 October 2006.
[2] Pope Benedict XVI, Wednesday Audience Address, 3 September 2008.
[3] Pope Benedict XVI, Wednesday Audience Address, 3 September 2008.
[4] Pope Benedict XVI, Wednesday Audience Address, 25 October 2006.

On Paul's Conversion

During his Wednesday catechesis last week the Holy Father, as promised the week prior, focused on the conversion of Saint Paul on the road to Damascus. On that road, "a complete turnabout took place there, a total change of perspective."

We learn of this important event in the life of the Church from two main sources, he said: the writings of the Evangelist Luke and the writings of Saint Paul himself.

We learn from the three accounts given by the Evangelist. Considering these passages, Pope Benedict said,

The average reader, perhaps, might be tempted to pause too long on certain details, such as the light from the sky, the fall to the ground, the voice that called, the new state of blindness, the curing when something like scales fall from his eyes and the fasting. However, all these details point to the heart of the event: The Risen Christ appeared as a splendid light and addressed Saul, transforming his thinking and his very life. The splendor of the Risen One left him blind; presenting also externally what the interior reality was, his blindness in regard to the truth, to the light, which is Christ. And then, his definitive "yes" to Christ in baptism reopens his eyes, and makes him truly see.

I confess to being an "average reader" of this event.

Recalling that the ancient Christians called the Sacrament of Baptism "illumination," the Pontiff noted the sacramental reality of this event in the life of Saint Paul. Baptism "gives light, makes one truly see. All that is indicated theologically was realized in Paul also physically," he said.

At the same time that the Lord gave to Saint Paul the mission to preach to the Gentiles, the Apostle "learned that despite the immdiateness of his relationship with the Risen One, he must enter the communion of the Church, be baptized, and live in harmony with the other apostles."

Concluding his reflections by connecting Saint Paul's conversion to the lives of every disciple, Pope Benedict reminded us, as he did in his encyclical Deus caritas est (1), "Christianity is not a new philosophy or new morality. We are Christians only if we encounter Christ."

We know that many people today want to encounter the Risen Christ in the same way that Saint Paul encountered him. They want to experience his physical, tangible presence discernible to the physical senses. Though many desire to experience Christ in this manner, I suspect that very few are actually prepared for what such an encounter might entail. Remember, everything about Saul's life changed? Are we really ready to commit ourselves to such a change? We should be.

This is perhaps a most understandable desire but it does not mean that we cannot encounter him each day of our lives.

Where, then, do we go to encounter Christ today. Ever the ready teacher, Pope Benedict XVI wisely taught, "we can also encounter Christ in the reading of sacred Scripture, in prayer, in the liturgical life of the Church. We can touch Christ's heart and feel him touch ours."

Vespers at St. Paul's

The Holy Father presided at Vespers in the Basilica of Saint Paul Outside the Walls on the Feast of the Conversion of Saint Paul to mark the centenary of the Octave of Prayer for Christian Unity. Thanks be to God, I received a ticket to attend the celebration.

I had hoped to arrive at the Basilica about 2:30 p.m., three full hours prior to the start of Vespers, to use this time to take pictures of the Basilica since it is the one most difficult to reach. This particular Basilica is my favorite of the four "major" ones, the others being St. Peter's, St. John on the Lateran hill, and Saint Mary Major.

At any rate, I actually arrived at the Basilica about 3:00 p.m., due to some delays caused by shopping, and glad that I arrived later than intended. I hadn't taken into account, you see, the possibility of the Basilica being closed before Pope Benedict XVI's arrival.

When I reached the front gate of the Basilica about one hundred people were already waiting outside and there we stood until they finally opened the doors at 4:00 p.m. After the mandatory bag check I finally crossed the threshold closer to 4:15 p.m. with no real time or chance to take pictures.

Five years ago when I was in Rome I attended Mass on this same Feast and had a profoud spiritual moment. I have written up an article about it and will link to it later today, having forgotten to do so before I left for Rome.

Since I left the hotel before my priest-friends (because I wanted to take pictures) I looked around for a good place to sit, most of which were already taken. Glancing around I saw Fr. Guy Selvester of Shouts in the Piazza - whom I bumped into quite a few times in Rome (Fr. Selvester introduced me to Fr. Jay Toborowski of Young Fogeys) - sitting right on the aisle. He kindly offered me the seat next to him and I sat on the second seat from the aisle. When the Holy Father processed by he was, perhaps, five feet away.

Despite the pushing and shoving - present at all Papal events - that stole from my lens a couple of terrific shots of the Pontiff, it was an event worth attending. I was able to snap a few pictures worth looking at (this experience told me it might be time to consider investing in a new camera with great zoom capabilities):

Being right on the aisle, Fr. Selvester was able to take a couple of excellent pictures without the elbow jabs I suffered.