A Homily for the 22nd Sunday in Ordinary Time (2008-A)
22nd Sunday in Ordinary Time (A)
August 31, 2008
Fr. John C. Garrett
The past couple of weeks the prophets seem to have been hard on me. Last weekend, my last at my former parish, the Lord said through the prophet Isaiah, “I will thrust you from your office and pull you down from your station.” This week the prophet Jeremiah is lamenting how the Lord has duped him and says, “All the day I am an object of laughter; everyone mocks me.” Not really what you want to hear on your first weekend at a new parish. Although, from all the good things that I have heard about the people in this parish, and from the warm welcome I have already received from many of you, I really do not think that I have to worry about being an object of laughter.
I am very excited to be here at St. Theresa’s. While, of course, I have some sadness about leaving my previous parish, Our Lady of Sorrows-St. Anthony, there is always something exciting about meeting new people and learning new things. One of the most valuable lessons that I have learned over the past few years is the importance of recognizing the Presence of Christ Jesus in all the circumstances of my life. Often it takes some effort to set aside the blinders we all tend to accumulate in our lives, but God does give us the grace to recognize His Divine Presence in our lives, for Christ Jesus remains Incarnate in His Church in the community of believers who continue to make up His Mystical Body. In coming to a new parish, I have the blessing of encountering Jesus in a new, beautiful way.
One of my homiletic professors really drilled into us that the homily is not really a soapbox for telling a lot of stories about ourselves. In fact he would take points off each time we used words like “I” or “me” or “my”. However, since this is my first weekend here, I think it would be a good idea to tell you a little about myself. Of course I can’t tell you all about myself; not in one homily, and besides, just knowing facts about me does not allow you to know me, just as knowing facts about you will not allow me to know you. It is only in developing a relationship with each other that we will really get to know each other, and that takes time, but it is also part of the excitement of a new assignment.
I was born in Trenton and I have three younger sisters. One sister, Ann, is a pediatrician in St. Louis and is married with four children. My sister, Jennifer, works for Congressman Smith in his Hamilton office. She is also married and has two children. My sister Mary is the baby in the family. She is a teacher in North Carolina, and has a 16 year-old daughter, Sydney. My mother still lives in Trenton, and my father passed away 2.5 years ago. My sisters and I certainly learned about the Faith from our parents, who were always involved in the parish. After they retired, Mom and Dad went to Mass daily, and since my father’s death, Mom has become a consecrated widow.
I have been a priest a little over four years. Prior to that I had a variety of jobs, mostly while being in school. I do have a Ph.D., and I worked as a college professor prior to responding to God’s call to be a priest. Fr. Mick and I have known each other for years. Not only was he the vocations director for most of my time in the seminary, but I also spent my deacon year with him at Sacred Heart in Trenton.
Probably the one thing I really want you to know about me is that I love being a priest, especially preaching. However, there was a time, not that long ago, when I almost forgot that. One of life’s great mysteries is the Cross. In today’s Gospel reading Jesus says to His apostles, and to us, “Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me.” I think that many of us often forget about these words of Christ. We often want a problem-free life, and we think that by being a disciple of Jesus we should have one. Basically we want Christianity-lite: Christ without the Cross.
This temptation to desire a false Christianity, came to me in a strong way shortly after I was ordained a priest. A few months after I reported to my first assignment, right after my 40th birthday, I was diagnosed with cancer. Oh, it was a very easy to treat cancer, and I am healthy now, but it was still hard to hear that I had cancer at age 40. My first year of priesthood was largely spent in treatment, and I felt physically awful much of the time. Then, just as all my “numbers” were getting back to the normal range and I was regaining my energy, my father was diagnosed with terminal lung cancer. He died two months later; 11 days after I moved to a parish closer to him and mom so that I could help him. I felt that it was too much back to back. I felt broken. I had lost the joy in my life.
Then I met some wonderful people. They were part of a church group called Communion and Liberation. They offered me a true friendship by always reminding me of Christ’s presence in my life. They reminded me that Jesus does not save us by taking away the cross. Rather He saves us by taking up the cross, and when we unite our sufferings to His through faith and prayer, we plug into Jesus’ own saving love. This uniting ourselves with the cross of Jesus gives our crosses internal meaning, even though externally they remain painful. Then our crosses become part of the “living sacrifice” and “spiritual worship” that St. Paul tells us in today’s second reading pleases God and spreads God’s grace.
At the time that St. Paul wrote his letter to the Romans, most of the world was pagan, and pagan religions were based on the belief in the power of external rituals. They thought that if they did not perform the ritual perfectly the gods would either ignore their prayers, or worse yet, get angry. There was no personal relationship with the gods. The people might know stories, which they thought were facts, about the gods but they would not know the gods. Religion was just a set of ritual duties.
St. Paul constantly warned the early Christians against falling into this kind of thinking. He taught them to have a close personal relationship with God, and not reduce their relationship with God to just some ritual duties. As Christians, everything that we do is meant to be worship. All of our actions, words and decisions — everything that we do in living our daily lives — are ways for us to show that we love Christ and want to follow Him.
And like all real relationships, things are not only one way. As my friends in Communion and Liberation remind me, if we look with the eyes of faith, we can see the Presence of Christ Jesus not only in church, but in all the circumstances of our lives. In fact, the only way we are going to experience the “hundredfold” life that Jesus promises His disciples in this life and the life to come, is to accept this radical new concept of religion; that God calls each of us to a personal relationship with Him, the one true God, by becoming man in Jesus, who still dwells among us. This is what it means to be transformed by the renewal of our minds, as St. Paul says.
It is wonderful to have a great love for the Church’s liturgy, as I do. However, if our faith, if our relationship with Christ is confined to just those rituals, no matter how beautiful they may be, then we are missing the real point, the real relationship, the real life that Christ offers us. “The glory of God is man fully alive” (St. Ireneaus). Let us live our lives fully with God.



