Sunday, August 18, 2019

Real Presence – A Homily for the Twentieth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year C


            A Pew Research Center Study on What Americans Know About Religion includes some very disappointing results for Catholics.  The July 23rd report reveals that only 31% of American Catholics believe that the Eucharist is really the Body and Blood of Christ.  Equally disturbing, 65% of American Catholics believe that the Eucharist is only a symbol of Christ’s presence, comprised of 22% who understand the Church’s teaching on the Eucharist but still believe that it’s only a symbol, and 43% who believe that the Catholic Church actually teaches that the Eucharist is only a symbol.  The rest just don’t know.[1]  It seems that the divisions that Jesus warns about in our Gospel continue to this day.  It seems that we need a better understanding of Christ’s real presence.

            Today’s readings present the stark reality that following God’s ways causes division.  Poor Jeremiah is tossed into a well and left to die for delivering God’s unpopular message that the Israelites must submit themselves to the invading Babylonian army.  In our Gospel, Jesus pulls no punches about the divisive impact of Christian discipleship: “A household of five will be divided three against two and two against three.”  It may seem crazy that the Prince of Peace would foster discord, but the reason behind these divisions is pretty simple:  God’s real presence in a sinful world upsets the status quo.  Some people just don’t like it, because God’s presence demands a response.  It challenges us to conform our ways to God’s ways. 

            Let’s take this point a little deeper.  At the very beginning of our Gospel, Jesus says, “I have come to set the earth on fire, and how I wish it were already blazing!”  No, Jesus isn’t a pyromaniac.  “In the Hebrew Scriptures, divine fire represents the presence of God,”[2] as we see in God’s appearance to Moses in the burning bush; in Ezekiel’s vision of a burning figure seated on the celestial throne; and, of course, in the descent of the Holy Spirit on Pentecost in “tongues as of fire.”  Jesus is telling us that he has come to consume the earth with God’s fiery presence.  God became man to dwell among us, to purify us like fire-tried gold, and to fan the flames of faith among his people so that we may remain in God’s loving presence forever.  By dwelling among us, Jesus showed us that it’s possible to live as God intends for us to live, if only we would change our ways.  “God’s presence always demands a transformation and a response.”[3] 

Christ’s mission is all about presence, God’s real presence among us, which brings us back to the Eucharist.  Catholics believe that in the Eucharist, “Christ himself, living and glorious, is present in a true, real, and substantial manner: his Body and his Blood, with his soul and divinity.”[4]  This doctrine may be hard to swallow, so to speak, but it flows directly from Scripture, it has been believed and transmitted through sacred tradition and the sacraments of the Church since the time of the Apostles, and it makes sense.  Allow me to explain.

In John’s Gospel, chapter 6, Jesus says, “I am the living bread that came down from heaven; whoever eats this bread will live forever” (John 6: 51).  This teaching challenged Jesus’ followers, to say the least.  In fact, they were disgusted by it, but Jesus didn’t back down.  After he’s confronted with the crowd’s disgust, he ups the ante.  When he next says, “Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life” (John 6: 54), he changes his verb from one that means simply “to eat” (phagein in the original Greek) to one that means “to gnaw on” (trogein in the original Greek).  And the result?  Division.  Jesus had the opportunity to soften his message, to tell people that he was only speaking metaphorically, that the flesh and blood image was just a symbol, but he didn’t.  There was division, and people left. 

Now let’s fast forward to the Last Supper, where Jesus presents his body and blood to us in the form of bread and wine.  Again, his words are clear, “This is my Body;” “This is my Blood;” “Do this in memory of me” (Luke 22: 19-20).  Knowing how difficult it would be for us to consume flesh and drink blood, he presents himself to us in the forms of common food and drink.  He meets us where we are and accommodates our weaknesses.  He stays with us in the Eucharist to help us make the changes we need to make to remain in God’s loving presence forever. 

So how does the bread and wine become the Body and Blood of Christ while it still looks and tastes like bread and wine?  We can thank Saint Thomas Aquinas for the answer.  Every material item has a substance and a form.  Tulips and roses are both flowers, but they look quite different.  The material or essential components that make them both flowers are their substance; their outward appearance (color, shape of petals, etc.) is their form.  Fr. Mike and I are both men in substance, but one of us is blessed with youthful good looks, and the other looks like Fr. Mike – different forms.  The Church believes, then, that in the consecration at Mass, the substance of the bread and wine change to the substance of the Body and Blood of Christ while remaining in the form of bread and wine.[5]  Transubstantiation is a miracle that isn’t easy to grasp, but it makes sense.

            The Eucharist is Christ’s great gift of his continued presence among us, not just spiritually, but tangibly as well.  Through the Eucharist, Jesus continues to challenge us to conform our ways to God’s ways, to console us in difficult times, to inspire us to serve our brothers and sisters, and to strengthen us to carry out our Christian mission.  It’s no symbol; it’s a wonderful gift of Jesus’ real presence.

So how did we end up in a place where only 31% of Catholics believe that Jesus is really present in the Eucharist?  In my opinion, the Church’s failure to properly catechize the faithful has led to the very divisions that Jesus talks about in our Gospel.  By failing to ground the faithful in philosophy and theology, science has become the exclusive means for understanding our world, and faith is viewed as suspect.  Faith is divided against reason.  Likewise, by emphasizing good works over doctrine, Catholics have become unable to understand and explain what we believe and why we bother to do good works in the first place.  Doctrine is viewed as archaic.  Doctrine is divided against good works. 

We need to heal these divisions.  We need to engage Catholics in solid intellectual and spiritual formation in the faith, trusting that great “cloud of witnesses” – the Saints whose inspiring lives were grounded in their firm belief in Christ’s real presence in the Eucharist.  We need to unite as one, holy, catholic and apostolic Church to heal all wounds of division by rediscovering that all healing begins and ends with Christ’s real presence.




[1] Pew Research Center, “What Americans Know About Religion,” July 23, 2019, https://www.pewforum.org/2019/07/23/what-americans-know-about-religion/.
[2] Michael J. Simone, “Send Down Your Fire,” America, vol. 221, no. 3 (August 5, 2019), p. 45.
[3] Id.
[4] Catechism of the Catholic Church 1413.
[5] Catechism of the Catholic Church 1376.

Wednesday, August 14, 2019

A Selfless Servant, A Light of the World


A selfless servant died last week, and today I had the privilege to preach at his funeral.

            I have a confession to make.  A few years ago, Randy and I were building sets for the Immaculate Conception School production of Beauty and the Beast.  For those who may not have seen a Frey Family production at ICS, the set consisted of a raised platform supporting plywood panels that served as the canvas for the various scenes.  Scenes were changed by removing or flipping the panels.  We had just finished hanging the last two panels when we noticed a small gap – maybe 2 inches wide – at the very bottom of the middle panels.  To fix it, we would have to take down the entire backdrop and reassemble it slightly off-kilter to make the panels fall together evenly.  Randy suggested that he send a picture to Carole to see what she thinks.  I said, “Are you out of your mind?  It will drive her crazy, and we’ll have to fix it.  Let’s just leave it and see if she notices.”  Randy sent the picture, and we spent the next two hours reassembling the backdrop.  Randy Frey was a far better servant than I will ever be.  He was a selfless servant, a light of the world, the kind of servant Jesus calls us to be.

            Our readings this afternoon present two characteristics of Christian discipleship that seem to contradict each other.  On the one hand, Saint Paul exhorts the Philippians to be selfless, to humbly regard others as more important than themselves in the model of Jesus Christ.  On the other hand, Jesus encourages his disciples to be the light of the world so that all may see their good deeds and glorify God.  Humility versus the spotlight – how do we reconcile them?

            Let’s start with humility.  The great characteristics of Jesus’ life were humility, obedience, and self -renunciation.”[1] Jesus emptied himself to become human, to dwell among us, to serve us, and to serve God selflessly and obediently to the point of humbly accepting death on a cross.  We Christians are called to live our lives with Jesus as our model.  We’re called to live as humble, selfless servants, looking out not for our own interests, but for the interests of others.  “If we live only for ourselves, we shrivel up and die. . . . Our true meaning is found in a loving gift of self.”[2]  We are all called by God to serve our sisters and brothers in such a way that people will ask, “If such is the servant, what must the master be like.”

            That brings us to the spotlight.  Jesus told us that he is the light of the world, so what does he mean when he says that we are the light of the world?  Well, Christianity is meant to be seen. There’s no such thing as secret discipleship: either the secrecy destroys the discipleship, or the discipleship destroys the secrecy.[3]  People who humbly serve with Jesus as their model radiate the light of Christ in their hearts.  Just as a spotlight draws our attention to the star on the stage, our humble, selfless good works draw people not to us, but to “the one Morning star that never sets,” Jesus Christ.

It isn’t easy to balance these seemingly contradictory characteristics of discipleship.  We can’t be so humble that we feel unworthy or become embarrassed by serving others, and we can’t shine so brightly that we braggadociously draw attention to ourselves and away from Christ.  It’s a balance, but a balance well worth the effort, because the reward for modeling our lives after Jesus is nothing less than eternal happiness, peace, and love.

Fortunately for us, we were blessed with a beautiful example of this balance in Randy Frey.  Randy was a humble, selfless servant.  He never did anything out of selfishness or vainglory that I know of; he always seemed to put the interests of others before his own.  Interestingly, Carole, Kyle, and Brett each separately shared with me that they worried that Randy didn’t think that people noticed him.  Well, Randy, we noticed.

+ We noticed Randy the roadie setting up and taking down all of the equipment at every gig, recital, concert, and performance.

+ We noticed Randy the stage manager making sure that every detail of every performance was tended to, down to a lousy two-inch gap in the scenery panels.

+ We noticed Randy the House that Rocks concierge, who always greeted us with a smile, a kind word, and a genuine interest in how we were doing.

+We noticed Randy the proud and devoted husband, father, son, brother, and son-in-law, who found his meaning as a loving self-gift of tireless support, encouragement, and comfort to his family.

+We noticed Randy the faithful, selfless servant, the light of the world, never directing our attention to himself, but to Jesus.

Now it’s time for us to show that we noticed.  If we really noticed, then we, too, will live our lives as humble, selfless servants, letting our lights shine brightly for the glory of God the Father as we serve our brothers and sisters.  There’s no better time than now.  As we mourn Randy’s death, we can either hide under a bushel basket, feeling sorry for ourselves, or set our lamps on a lamp stand, showing our faith in the Resurrection we celebrate today and leading others to Christ through selfless service.  Randy wasn’t perfect, and he suffered his share of hardships, but he chose to serve selflessly and to set his lamp on the lamp stand anyway.  Let’s show Randy that we noticed. 

            I have another confession to make.  I have no idea why Randy kept asking me to help him with the sets: I have no carpentry skills to speak of; I clearly have a terrible work ethic; and, notwithstanding my physical appearance, I have no upper body strength.  If he asked me only because I had a pulse and was a willing volunteer, I don’t mind at all, because working with Randy allowed me to spend time with a guy who was easy to spend time with, and even easier to call my friend. More importantly, working with Randy allowed me to see a humble, selfless servant at work, to see Christ’s light shining in him, and to learn, through Randy’s excellent example, to follow Jesus.
     
            In honor of our brother, Randy, please join me in extending your hands, as I offer Randy the ancient priestly blessing from our first reading:

The LORD bless you and keep you!
The LORD let his face shine upon you and be gracious to you!
The LORD look upon you kindly and give you peace!  Amen!

Readings: Numbers 6: 22-27; Psalm 23; Philippians 2: 1-11; Matthew 5: 14-16


[1] William Barclay, The Letters to the Philippians, Colossians, and Thessalonians (Louisville, Westminster John Knox Press, 2003), p. 45.
[2] Stephen J. Rosetti, “Finding Life in Self-Giving,” Living Faith, Terence Hegarty, ed., vol. 35, no. 2 (July-September 2019), August 10.
[3] William Barclay, The Gospel of Matthew, vol. 1 (Louisville, Westminster John Knox Press, 2001), p. 142.