NB. A Roman homily from 2009. . .never been preached. It will need a littled revision before I preach it tonight at OLR.
NB. 2.0. Oops! So eager was I to preach an unpreached homily that I didn't pay enough attention to what I wanted to preach. The homily below is NOT for this Sunday's readings.
33rd Sunday OT
________________________
Follow HancAquam or Subscribe ----->
NB. 2.0. Oops! So eager was I to preach an unpreached homily that I didn't pay enough attention to what I wanted to preach. The homily below is NOT for this Sunday's readings.
33rd Sunday OT
Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP
Our Lady of the Rosary, NOLA
Your best friend discovers that
you and your spouse have cashed in your vacation savings so that your
children can continue in their Catholic school. Your friend notes with
admiration, “That's quite a sacrifice!” It's final exams week and you
rush to be with your sick mother. Your professor, though sympathetic,
says, “Unfortunately, your sacrifice will not help your grade.” You
read in the Sunday paper that a well-trained German Shepherd in the
local police force “sacrificed its life to save its human partner.” In
that same paper, the stories from Iraq and Afghanistan are littered with
references with the sacrifice of our soldiers in combat. Each time,
the word “sacrifice” rings nobly in your ears, and you note that
something has been lost so that something more important might be
accomplished. We understand sacrifice in terms of loss and gain, in
terms of “giving up mine” so that you might “have yours.” Something
ends and something begins. Almost always absent in these descriptions
is the sense of the holy, that taste of the transcendent that gives
sacrifice a religious flavor, some deference to a time and place other
than this one. For Christians, sacrificium, means sacrifice, oblation; an offering to God. The Latin word comes from sacer (holy) and facere
(to make). To sacrifice is to make holy. That which is sacrificed is
made holy; the one making the sacrifice is made holy. Most importantly
for us, the ones for whom the sacrifice is made are made holy. Christ
is the High Priest who sacrifices. He is the Victim of this sacrifice.
And we are the beneficiaries: “For by one offering he has made perfect
forever those who are being consecrated.”
In Hebrews this morning, we
read, “Every priest stands daily at his ministry, offering frequently
those same sacrifices that can never take away sins.” The author of
this letter is writing to the Jews who have come to Christ. He is using
images and language that they will immediately understand. Having
spent most of their lives in the temple-worship of the Father, offering
animal sacrifice for their sins, these converts will know that the
author is alluding to the ineffectiveness of those same animal
sacrifices in relieving them of their sin. In obedience to the
Covenant, they carry out their religious duties and demonstrate a
fidelity to God. However, these sacrifices do not and cannot wipe away
their sin. Though God may account them holy before Him, they are not,
in fact, made holy through in their temple worship. God alone is holy
and only He can make what is unholy holy in fact.
To accomplish the sanctification
of all creation, God sends His only Son among us as a Man, one like us
in every way except sin. The God-Man, Jesus Christ, born of a virgin by
the power of the Holy Spirit, is sacrificed on the cross for us. As
the incarnate Son, he is already holy. As the priest, he is holy. As
the lamb on the altar of the cross is he holy. He offers himself to God
as the one, perfect sacrifice for all that need not ever be repeated,
that cannot be repeated. We can understand this sacrifice for in any
number of ways: substitutionary, existential, exemplary. Christ died
for our sins so that we need not die in sin; he died instead of us.
Christ experienced the death of sin as a man so that all men might be
saved from such a death; his experience reveals the hope of eternal
life. Christ on the cross shows us the meaning of love: to die for
one's friends; his death is our model for life. Wherever we want to
place the emphasis, one element of his sacrifice is clear: our holiness
is not our own, but rather a gift from the altar of the cross given
freely by our great High Priest. We have only to accept this gift and
follow him.
By one perfect offering of
himself on the cross, Christ united us again with the Father, and we
persevere in the presence of the Holy Spirit, striving against
already-vanquished sin to achieve our perfection in the promise of
holiness. Our constant failure to perfect his promise of holiness does
nothing to revoke the promise. His offer of holiness made from the
cross is universal and permanent: for all, forever. No tribe, tongue,
nation, people, race, or class is excluded from the invitation. No one
is missed out because he was born Man to save all mankind, and nothing
broken is left unfixed. No sin, no fault, no vice, no deviance, no
crime, nothing torn or damaged among his human creatures is left
unhealed. Nothing in the entirety of His creation is left to chaos or
disease. Where we find disorder, look for disobedience. Where we find
strife, debauchery, disregard for life, anxiety and distress, look for
men and women without hope. But as time grows short, look for Christ's
return. What has been woven together will unravel when left uncared for
and the weaver will return to repair the damage of our carelessness.
We care best of ourselves and
one another when we sacrifice, when we “hand over to make holy.” As
priests of the New Covenant, we offer oblation to God when we lay our
worry, our sickness, our poverty, our arrogance, our sin on his altar
and leave ourselves freshly vulnerable to being made again in his image
and likeness, to being made over as Christ for others. It is not enough
that we sacrifice as priests. If we are follow him, we must the victim
of our sacrifice as well. Not my sin only, but yours too. Not your
sin only, but mine as well. The Body must sacrifice for the Body, all
its members for one another. We are holy together or not at all. This
is the danger of being Catholic, of being one Body baptized into the
life, death, and resurrection of Christ: we are saved as a Church,
bound together by the chains of God's sacraments. “Me and Jesus” is the
Devil's lie that makes our faith into a religiousy version of the “Lone
Ranger.” We rise or fall as one in the One who made us one by dying on
the cross.
Perhaps the question we should ask ourselves upon waking each morning is: “Who will I die for today?”
________________________
Follow HancAquam or Subscribe ----->