Sunday, May 31, 2020

Pentecost 2020 - Gathered in our spiritual home

There is a common saying, “Home is where the heart is”. Home: it’s the place where you feel the warmth and safety of a familiar surrounding, the love of family, the peace of warm memories. Home is the place where you want to be at the end of the day, kick off your shoes, and put your feet up after a hard day’s work. Home is where you can let your guard down, rest, relax, and recharge. Hopefully, it’s the place where your heart is renewed in the presence of loved ones who love you, and understand you, and are patient with you.

Yet, some claim that this little truism, “home is where the heart is” originated from an earlier saying: “home is where the hearth is.” The hearth is the fireplace, especially important in earlier eras. The stone-hearth was where family would gather, especially before electricity, to cook and take their meals, to warm up after a day out in the cold. Children would sit on their parents lap before the hearth. The family bible would be read at the hearth. Stories would be told around the family hearth. The hearth, the fire, was central and indispensable to the family life.

The new proverb, “home is where the heart is” conveys something a little different. Home is not bound to a particular place, it is not tied to a particular assemblage of bricks and mortar. Home is wherever faith, family, and warmth are enjoyed, wherever we can bask in our happy memories, share our foundational stories, and be refreshed in the presence of those who love us—that’s home.

As Catholics, we speak of our parish as our spiritual home. And aren’t we so grateful that after several months of lockdown and quarantine, we are able to gather once again around the hearth of our spiritual home, the tabernacle, the altar. In the presence of a God who loves us, no matter what we’ve been going through, in the presence of fellow Catholics who support us in our call to holiness. We hope that we will never again be kept from gathering in our spiritual home.

St. Ignatius of Antioch has been spiritual home to thousands and thousands of Catholics in her 117 year history. Souls, many who have gone into eternity before us, many who have moved beyond our parish borders, some who have joined us via livestream over the past few weeks. In this place, God has been encountered through sacramental worship, in transcendent art, architecture, music, and ritual. Common bonds have been formed, so much that we refer to members of our parish family.

In this home, souls have progressed from spiritual infancy to various degrees of spiritual maturity—receiving the spiritual new birth of baptism, the spiritual food of the Eucharist, the spiritual medicine of reconciliation—gathering for weddings, funerals, picnics, festivals, graduations, athletic competitions, primary and secondary education, for the feeding and clothing of the poor.  We’ve been inspired, consoled, corrected, emboldened and empowered for the work of the Gospel.

At my installation mass as 10th Pastor of St. Ignatius of Antioch, I quoted the words of the fifth pastor, the great Monsignor Albert Murphy. And I’d like to quote him again, as his words, are so pertinent. Monsignor Murphy wrote “Few things in life are dearer to the heart of a devout Catholic than his parish. Along with home and family, she is the focus of our finest loyalties. From birth on through to death she is our Spiritual Mother—teaching, sustaining, admonishing, safeguarding and consoling—enriching our souls from the treasure house of her changeless love and shaping our days in the pattern of God’s bounteous graces.”

Your love for your spiritual home can be seen in the ways that you’ve continued to support, so generously, its upkeep and mission, through the years and during the lockdown. For, like any physical home, our spiritual home, our parish church requires constant upkeep, maintenance, repair, especially a spiritual home such as ours, which has stood for nearly a hundred years.

This feast of Pentecost is such a fitting feast to regather after months of lockdown in our spiritual home. For Pentecost is always a feast of new beginnings, new chapters. For the apostles, that first Pentecost began something new, a new experience of God, with the descent of the Holy Spirit upon the Church. That first Pentecost brought the apostles a new flowering of spiritual gifts, which they would utilize as they burst forth from that upper room into to the streets of Jerusalem, to preach that Christ is risen there and to the corners of the earth.

So, too for us. Whenever we gather in our spiritual home, yes we are gathering in a familiar place, with familiar faces, and familiar rituals—to experience warmth and to be spiritually recharged. But we also gather to be emboldened and commissioned for something new. As our economy and society begins to upon up once again, as individuals and as a parish, we need to consider well, how are we being called to engage society in new ways?  To make use of our resources more diligently. How can we cultivate new spiritual gifts here? Forge new bonds with the members of this neighborhood and welcome new parishioners who do not share our history? How can we love God and neighbor, family and enemy just a little more deeply?

There is a sort of paradox in our Catholic faith, isn’t there? God who is unchanging, calls us to one faith, one church, one Gospel truth which is essentially unchanging. But, at the same time God calls us to always change, semper reformanda, in the latin, to always seek ever-deeper conversion to Christ, to always nurture new spiritual gifts and make use of them in our ever-changing circumstances. Our rituals, our creeds, our doctrines are essentially unchanging, and yet, they prepare us to allow the wind of the Holy Spirit to blow where He pleases, to direct us, not just where I want to go, but where God wants me to go.

We flock back to the spiritual warmth and fire of our rock solid faith and spiritual home. However, that the warmth and that faith needs to be spread out there, in the coldness and chaos of the world. Or else, what are we doing here? We don’t go to church to be lulled to sleep, but to be woken up, to become animated, activated, illuminated, conformed to an itinerant preacher who claimed no place to lay his head; who saw this earth, not so much as a home, but as a temporary dwelling in which to engage in his Father’s work.

May the fire of the Holy Spirit warm us, for it has been so cold and lonely in our lock down. But, may that same fire ignite new spiritual gifts within us, and set us aflame with courage and conviction for spreading the Gospel out in the unfamiliar places of the world, for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

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