Note: I am traveling to a week long meeting of the Friars of my province and am “one the road” and so am reporting my homily from three years ago. Enjjoy

Just recently we held a mini-course about the people, events and issues of the Protestant Reformations of the 16th century.  Among the Reformers there was a far greater emphasis placed on Scripture and preaching upon that Word. John Calvin’s typical Sunday homily seems to have been about 2 hours.  John Knox’s homilies often had intermissions. Hard to imagine, eh?

But it was a different era – not just because Sunday was dedicated to church, worship, and little else – but because for that generation of people, Scripture was coming alive for the first time.  When the Zurich reformer Zwingli first began to preach he started at the beginning of the Gospel according to Matthew. Sunday after Sunday he worked his way through the whole Gospel, proclaiming, teaching, cajoling, and encouraging people to embrace and be embraced by God.  The Word of God set people ablaze.

I have to admit there are times in which I would love to take extra time and share a large portion of Scripture with you. For example, our first reading comes from Isaiah 55. But the whole chapter is awesome, amazing….  It is this wide-open invitation to Grace. And we get just a snippet of it in the first reading.  Here is part of what comes before it.

All you who are thirsty, come to the water! You who have no money, come, buy grain and eat;  Come, buy grain without money, wine and milk without cost! Why spend your money for what is not bread; your wages for what does not satisfy? Only listen to me, and you shall eat well, you shall delight in rich fare. (Is 55:1-2)

There are no preconditions to this invitation. It is not first to make your life pure and holy, then come. There is no entry fee. There is only “come” and “listen.” It is your choice.

Pay attention and come to me; listen, that you may have life. I will make with you an everlasting covenant (Is 55:3)

God is offering a covenant with you that you can have more than water or grain, you can choose life.

Seek the LORD while he may be found, call upon him while he is near…turn to the LORD to find mercy; to our God, who is generous in forgiving. (Is 55:6b-7)

What is in this covenant with God? Grace, mercy and forgiveness – and all you have to do is choose.

And that is just 2 or 3 minutes worth. Imagine what you could unwrap and talk about in 2 hours. And trust me there is a lot more there. A lot more, because that is the power of God’s Word.  In Isaiah 55, God tells the prophet Isaiah about the power of His mighty word – irresistible, unstoppable, compelling

so shall my word be that goes forth from my mouth; my word shall not return to me void, but shall do my will, achieving the end for which I sent it. (Is 55:11)

This is the kind of message where I want to say, “Can I get an ‘Amen’ ?” I mean, here is it in a nutshell. God desires that we be saved, God has spoken the Word that can save us, the Word has gone forth in the person of Jesus to do his Father’s will, and that Word will achieve the end for which he was sent. I mean how great is that?  Can I get an “Amen?”

And yet…. in chapters leading up to today’s Gospel, the Living Word, the Son of God, Jesus is experiencing growing opposition, doubt, and “push back.” And so the Apostles are asking Jesus, “What gives?  How can people hear your teaching, see your miracles, witness your cures, and still they ask for another sign?  What is with that?  Why don’t people believe?”

And Jesus responds, “A sower went out to sow” The parable is Jesus’ response to why people do not believe.  We have just heard the parable – and I suspect that as it was being proclaimed, lots of us were thinking – “Oh yeah, I have heard this parable before. Right. Jesus is the sower. The seed is the Word of God and we are the soil….” Pay attention and come to me; listen, that you may have life.  When explaining the parable to the Apostles, four times, Jesus explains, “ the seed sown…is the one who.”

Think about it. We are already in the hand of Jesus, imbued with his Grace, and then sent into the world – free will and all. And we make choices that position ourselves on pathways, on rocky ground, among the thistles, or in good soil. (a) We have the Word and Sacraments, but we never take the time to understand and love them (b) We receive the Word and Sacraments with great joy, but at some point, that joy is lost. Maybe it became less than cool to be known as faithful or holy. Maybe socially cumbersome. The joy is gone. (c) Perhaps one simply heard the siren’s call of luxury, wealth, power, and privilege. Or the worries of modern life became distracting or overwhelming. (d) Or despite all these things, we are intentional about our journey of faith in the midst of modern living.

Today we are the seed sown in one place. And I do mean “today” – because Jesus and the Word of God are still with us today – in the Eucharist and in the Scriptures – in the power of the Holy Spirit moving among us.  We are still in the hands of the Sower. Today we can make new choices. And in every choice, hopefully we are reflective enough to learn anew how God is creating and molding us, tilling the soil of our lives, uprooting thistle and weeds, and preparing us to choose life.  The promise is constant: so shall my word be that goes forth from my mouth; my word shall not return to me void, but shall do my will, achieving the end for which I sent it. (Is 55:11).  But we must choose to let the Word into our lives.  Choose to let the love and grace of God flood our lives.  Can I get an “Amen?”

Image credit: “The Sower” Vincent van Gogh (June 1888), Van Gogh Museum, Public Domain

Note: winter’s wicked winds are headed this way. The milk and bread shelves are empty in the local stores. Our church is located on a hill with a steep entrance and exist. The projected sleet and ice make the prospect of transiting the hill potentially perilous. And in an abundance of caution, our Sunday Masses have been cancelled. .. I have a homily holiday … so I posted this from the trove of homilies past

I remember when I was a kid, I was fascinated with a place of mystery called Timbuktu. I loved the sound of the name and the possibility of being as far away from home as Timbuktu. No doubt it was a place of mystery, intrigue, and stories. There were tales of gold, riches, and the place where East Africa and Saharan Africa met. The stories abound so much that in 1855, the French Geographic Society offered a major prize to the first European to go there and report back. What amazing, fantastic stories could be in Timbuktu! 

I have always been drawn to stories of people and places, adventures and mystery, where fates and fortunes were found, lost, and again pursued. In time, my appreciation of stories broadened to include narratives of all kinds. Stories told of love and love lost; stories of wisdom and tomfoolery; never-ending stories and stories with no end; stories that entertained and ones that pressed the mind to an inner exploration of meaning.

In my homily of last Sunday, I shared my experience of growing up in the Baptist South and attending tent revivals. In its own way, the tent revivals were as far from my Catholic experience as Timbuktu was from my front door. I described the experience as one in the well of stories, “Where men stood up and testified, words honed by years of practice. There were epic tales of sin and redemption wherein Jesus pulled them from the devil’s grasp and washed them in His blood.  Women spoke of love betrayed, and of loss and pain and joy so fierce that it almost seems to slice apart the humid summer air. Everyone praised the times Jesus saved them from despair, raised them up, wiped away their tears, and set them on the road to righteousness.” This was a very specialized form of storytelling: giving witness, giving testimony – but storytelling, nonetheless.

Today we celebrate “Word of God” Sunday. There are so many things that could be said about the Word of God, but I would say this: it is a collection of God’s stories as God reveals Himself to his people and the world. It is the greatest stories ever told and our most basic job is to be people who tell these stories to our family, our loved ones, our friends, our neighbors, and folks on the highways and byways of life.  When historians consider simple letters and other written items from the first and second centuries, they have described the spread of Christianity – not as simply the evangelical efforts of the big-name people like St. Paul and others – but as people telling stories over the backyard fence.

To know, tell, and share the stories in our own voices is to weave the stories into the fabric of our lives. So much so that in the shared knowledge of the stories, they can be shared with simple phrases: “O say can you see…”  Simple, short and brings to mind the story of Ft. McHenry, the War of 1812 and Francis Scott Key’s composition of our nation’s anthem. Our connection to the Bible, the Word of God, is the same way.  Think of the stories of Scripture you know and are brought to mind with simple words or expressions:  the Good Samaritan, the Good Shepherd, the Prodigal Son, Garden of Gethsemane, Calvary, River Jordan, and so much more. The stories are already there in the fabric of your life. Share them!

…and then the hesitation begins… “Do I really know the story?”  My experience is that people are really asking themselves, “Can I quote the story?”  Over the backyard fence, “quotologists” are not needed. Story tellers are needed.

Isaiah was the one who told a story in the first reading when he spoke of “the land of Zebulun and the land of Naphtali.”  For folks in Isaiah’s time, the reference was as clear as “oh say can you see.” They heard the phrase and instantly knew of that these were two of the tribes of Israel that were conquered by the Assyrians – but in the gloom of their fate, they were given the promise of a Savior and a new light to cover their lands, rescuing them from the darkness of their enslavement. This is a story of our shared history and the promise given.

In the second reading, St. Paul reminds us all that between here and the final there, the final land of light where joy and great rejoicing reside, there will be suffering. Christ suffered and so we should not be surprised if we too suffer at points in our life. St Paul’s story reminds us that the promise endures, but only in the name of Christ. This is the life: sent to live the Gospel. 

The Gospel? Today’s story is about the Call and Mission. Today we hear of the account of Simon Peter, Andrew, James and John –  it is but a reminder that the promise is carried to ends of the earth by people just like you and me. The Word is carried from the lake region of Galilee to the end of the earth – even to Timbuktu! 

We are called to people who carry the Word of God in our lives. Maybe you are called to carry it only so far as the end of the driveway – then do that. It is in reading children’s bible stories; it is reminding yourself to be a good Samaritan; it is receiving and accepting the prodigal son or daughter – it is reading, listening to our family stories. From the land of Naphtali, to Galilee, to your house, to Timbuktu.

And then telling them in your words, as your stories, over the backyard fences of your life.

Then just as we have enthroned the Word of God in a special way this weekend, you will enthrone the Word of God in your life.

Amen.

It was pointed out to me this morning that I had not posted my Sunday homily,,, so here it is.

Just recently we held a mini-course about the people, events and issues of the Protestant Reformations of the 16th century.  Among the Reformers there was a far greater emphasis placed on Scripture and preaching upon that Word. John Calvin’s typical Sunday homily seems to have been about 2 hours.  John Knox’s homilies often had intermissions. Hard to imagine, eh? Continue reading →