February 2 2025 - Feast of the Presentation - 5 years after COVID and the Light of Faith

 As I began preparing to write my homily this weekend, I was trying to recall the last time we celebrated the Feast of the Presentation—Candlemas--at the weekend masses. Eventually, I had to look it up, and realized why I was having a hard time remembering. The year was 2020, when February 2 fell on a Sunday, and a lot was on our mind that year. Already in February 2020, news of COVID deaths were being reported in Asia, the middle East, and Europe, though, I think at that time, we were still calling it “the China-Virus”. On February 2, 2020 there were only 11 COVID cases reported in the United States. The first COVID death in the US wouldn’t be reported until February 29, 2020, but anxiety was certainly growing among us, and conflicting news reports. Theories of the virus’ origin were already starting to circulate, and speculations of how our government would handle things, but we were still some time away from “fifteen days to slow the spread”. 

So, the last time we celebrated this particular feast together, at the weekend masses, we were bracing ourselves for facing the unknown. We gathered in the light of Christ, lighting our Candlemas candles, facing a dark horizon, an incoming storm—having no real knowledge how the global pandemic would unfold. 

Yet, we gathered. And that light, the light our Candlemas candles symbolize—was so important, wasn’t it?

Now, maybe, for some, the light of faith flickered in those ensuing months, as church doors were locked. Perhaps, for some, the light of faith was extinguished.  After all, for many parishes, weekend mass attendance has still not recovered.

To some people, church leaders seemed to fail us precisely when we desperately desired access to the sacraments. 

For some, the flame of faith flickered due to the convenience of live streamed masses, leading them to question the need to return to physical attendance. Some, out of caution for their own health or for other vulnerable persons, the risk of gathering for mass continued to be a deterrent. Some continued to exercise great caution, even after the bishops encouraged us to return to Mass. 

Some, sadly, began questioning the value of even gathering for Mass, and simply haven’t returned.

But here we. And the Lord has seen through the darkness of that particular point in history, to light our candles once again, thanks be to God.

And now, our task, once again, is to consider, how the Lord calls us to bear the light of faith brightly and spread that light to others. 

Sharing the light of faith with others is an act of love and concern for their souls. It is an act of love and it is our Christian duty. 

We are to be so faithful to this task of sharing the light of faith, that at the end of the day when our head hits the pillow, we are able to echo the words of Simeon in the Gospel today, “Now you let your servant go in peace, your word has been fulfilled”. In other words, I can sleep in peace, knowing that I have done what I could today to bear the light of faith and share the light of faith to those I encountered, to those I have been called by God to seek out.

The very first encyclical of our Holy Father Pope Francis, all the way back in 2013 was about the light of faith.  Its opening line, “The light of Faith: this is how the Church’s tradition speaks of the great gift brought by Jesus.”  The light of faith helps us to avoid the dark errors of sin and to walk the path of righteousness.  But also, by the light of Faith we come to know about God and we come to know about ourselves.  

The Pope writes, “The light of faith is unique, since it is capable of illuminating every aspect of human existence.” Faith helps us to understand the confusing matters of our life, by helping us see from the perspective of God. Even our human suffering is made comprehensible by faith. 

I don’t know about you, but, my faith really wasn’t shaken during that whole COVID mess. Because faith, being a follower of Jesus, isn’t about not having to face darkness, rather it’s about knowing how to continue walking toward God despite the darkness. 

With the light of faith diminishing in many corners of the world, the Pope writes “There is an urgent need,” “to see once again that faith is a light, for once the flame of faith dies out, all other lights begin to dim.” The urgent need to spread the light of faith, means to help others understand the importance of faith—the importance of walking a Christ’s disciples, of recognizing him, again as Simeon says, as “the Lumen ad revelationem gentium---the light of revelation to the nations of the world. Because if that light dies out, we’re all in trouble. Francis says, the Church “depends on the fidelity of witnesses chosen by the Lord for this task.”

And you and I, brothers and sisters, have been chosen for this task, to be like Simeon, and Anna in the Gospel today, who is bursting with joy in speaking to people about the Christ child. So this feast is a reminder and an opportunity to renew our commitment to share the light of Christ with those whose candles may be flickering or unlit. Every act of Christian charity, every time we encourage someone to pray, better yet, every time we pray with someone who is struggling, encouraging them in their suffering with words of faith, is an act of faithfulness to God that helps spread faith.

At every Mass too the Lord desires to strengthen our Faith, when encounter Jesus in the Eucharist, in which Pope Francis writes, “faith finds its highest expression”. “The Eucharist is a precious nourishment for faith: an encounter with Christ truly present in the supreme act of his love, the life-giving gift of himself.”

May our faithful encounter with the Lord’s self-giving act of love, help us to carry from this place the joyful certainty that our faith not only sustains us but also has the power to transform lives—as we seek the fulfillment of our lives through Christ, with Christ, and in Christ for the glory of God and the salvation of souls. 

4th Sunday of Ordinary Time 2022 - Murderous Intent or Rejoicing with Truth

 How did the people of Nazareth, in the Gospel today, go from amazement and hope in Jesus’ announcement that he was the Messiah, to murderous fury? That’s certainly the big question, isn’t it? What happened? Was it something that Jesus said? Hope do you explain hope and amazement transforming into doubt and then hatred?

I thought to myself, is there anything that I could say, that could elicit such a response? If I told a bad joke, there would likely be a few groans. Like, how much does a pirate pay for corn? A buccaneer. If I gave my prediction about who will win the superbowl, there might be a few scoffs, but you wouldn’t run me out of Church. If, instead of preaching on a theological topic, I simply talked about my favorite movies from the last year and sit down, you might stare at me quizzically, but you wouldn’t come at me with murderous intent.

Things might get a little bit more heated if I, say, spent the homily sharing my incredibly niche and polarizing political opinions. I don’t know how this parish reacted, but I remember in my first assignment, when the bishop had us read his statement on the HHS mandate which was to force Catholic institutions to pay for medical procedures contrary to Church teaching, we had a few mass goers walk out during the bishop’s message.

I came across a very telling article this week, that sited a study regarding the relationship between people’s political and religious beliefs. It claimed, that for a majority people, their political opinions take a higher priority than their religious ones, and that the Church they attend coincides more with their political beliefs than if that Church is purporting to preach the truth. 

So, again, if during the homily, I got too political, well, that might elicit a response of sorts.

But what if I started preaching heresy? I starting making claims about the Nature of God, the efficacy of the Sacraments that were contrary to the ancient tradition of the Church. What if I belittled beloved devotions. Well, you should get angry, shouldn’t you. That should elicit jeers, letters to the bishop, calls for my removal as pastor. You don’t come to church to be lied to, to have the faith demeaned and disparaged. I should be removed, if I did that. 

But it wasn’t a lie that caused the people of Nazareth to drive him to the edge of town to murder him. He wasn’t simply offering a bad joke or a divisive political opinion, though some may have interpreted his words in that way. Jesus was stating the truth. He was the Messiah. 

And when his townsmen began to contemplate the implications of that truth, amazement turned to doubt and doubt turned to murderous hatred.

When we are presented with truth, truth about God, truth about ourselves, we have some choices to make, don’t we? For example, if I’m in the habit of stealing from supermarkets, and I am confronted with the truth that stealing is evil, as taught by our faith, I have a choice to make. Reject the truth outright, that I know better than the Church, I try to rationalize my sin, saying it’s not really stealing if I want it really bad, or quit stealing and confess my sin to God.

Another example, if I was under the impression that Eucharist was only a symbol of the Lord’s Body and Blood, but then I’m confronted with the unchanging truth about the Eucharist rooted in scriptures and evident in the church fathers including our own St. Ignatius, bishop of Antioch, I have a choice to make. Reject the truth, thinking I know better than 2000 years of consistent church teaching, I try to minimize the importance of the doctrine, saying to myself, it doesn’t really matter, does God really care if believe this or not?” Or, recognize I was wrong, the Church was right, Lord, help my unbelief, in the words of the man in Mark’s Gospel, wanting to believe that Jesus could cast the demon out of his possessed son.

There are a lot of reaction to Jesus in the Gospels. And those reactions are the consequences of choices, choices to believe in the truth about who Jesus says he is, or not. 

The townsfolk of Nazareth, they discredit Jesus’ claim. He’s just the son of a carpenter. He can’t be the Messiah. They allowed their personal prejudices to hinder their ability to believe. 

Then, when Jesus explains how their choice to discredit him was akin to the hardness of heart and lack of faith described in the old testament stories about Elijah and Elisha. Well, they had another choice. Recognize the pattern of their unbelief and the veracity of Jesus’ claim, or, silence him, drive him out, murder him. Rejection of the truth leads to violence. 

Why is our culture so polarized, so ready to erupt into violence? In many places, in many homes, even in many so-called Christian communities, it is no longer rooted in the Truth. But Truth leads to love and peace. “Augustine says, nothing conquers but truth, and the victory of the truth is love.”

When we are rooted in truth, we are able to truly love. Love that is patient, kind, not jealous, not pompous, not inflated, not rude, not seeking its own interests, not quick-tempered, not brooding over injury, not rejoicing over wrongdoing but rejoicing with the truth., as St. Paul explains in our second reading today. 

The townsfolk of Nazareth certainly did not rejoice with the truth, but Christians, we must. For, truth is the only firm foundation for culture. We understand this. We hate fake news because it’s the dissemination of lies. Pope Francis, this week spoke about how spreading “disinformation” about COVID-19 is a violation of human rights. He said access to accurate information, based on scientific data, is a human right that must be especially guaranteed for those who are less equipped to separate out the morass of misinformation and commentary masquerading as fact that is available online.

At the same time, Francis asked for a merciful, missionary approach to those who fall prey to such distortions so they are helped to understand the truth.

"Fake news has to be refuted, but individual persons must always be respected, for they believe it often without full awareness or responsibility," he said. "Reality is always more complex than we think and we must respect the doubts, the concerns and the questions that people raise, seeking to accompany them without ever dismissing them."

The Holy Father’s approach is consistent quite enlightened compared to the anger and vitriol you see from people on “both sides of the issue” . Seek the truth, don’t lie to people, don’t minimize people’s concerns, but also don’t overinflate your claims, don’t violate people’s consciences, but patiently help people identify misinformation. 

Not one person in Nazareth stopped and said, “let’s listen to what he has to say, let’s entertain this possibility. If he is in error or a madman or a charlatan, the truth will be revealed.” No one was calm, rational, careful, or discerning. They jumped to discredit, and when they were challenged, they defended their prejudices with murderous intent. 

May the Lord deliver us from our prejudices, those which keep us from loving God, loving our neighbor, loving the stranger, and loving ourselves, those which keep us from rejoicing always with the truth, for the glory of God and salvation of souls.