For Unity to be Attained, Something Radical Must Happen on the Inside of Everyone Involved

 

(Seventh Sunday of Easter (C): This homily was given on May 29, 2022 at St. Pius X Church, Westerly, R.I., by Fr. Raymond Suriani.  Read Acts 7:55-60; Psalm 97:1-9; Revelation 22:12-20; John 17:20-26.)

[For the audio version of this homily, click here: Seventh Sunday of Easter 2022]

It would be hard to think of two people who were more disunited than Saul the Pharisee and Stephen the deacon.  And the focal point of their disunity was none other than Jesus Christ: Stephen accepted Jesus as the Messiah and Savior of the world, and Saul categorically rejected him.  And because he was so utterly convinced that he was right, Saul made it his business to persecute, arrest and imprison those who professed to be Jesus’ disciples.

Ultimately, of course, his misguided passion made him an accomplice to murder.  As we heard in today’s first reading from Acts 7, when Stephen was being stoned to death, Saul watched over the cloaks of those who were throwing the rocks.  He looked on approvingly, while the first martyr of the Church was being killed.

Which brings us to this morning’s gospel text from John 17, in which Jesus prays for unity among his followers (and, since Jesus calls everyone to follow him, it’s actually a prayer for unity among all people).  Jesus says, “Holy Father, I pray . . . that they may all be one, as you, Father, are in me and I in you. . . . And I have given them the glory you gave me, so that they may be one, as we are one, I in them and you in me, that they may be brought to perfection as one . . . “

The Lord desires unity in his Church.  But not only that—he desires unity in marriages; he desires unity in families; he desires unity among ethnic groups; he desires unity in every dimension of life.

But it often seems to be an elusive goal, does it not?

Well, today I’ll share with you a simple insight as to how we can all move closer to the goal.

It’s a rather simple concept, but (as is so often the case) it’s not so simple to put into practice.

Our teachers of this crucial lesson about unity, believe it or not, are Saul the Pharisee and Stephen the deacon.

Now you might say, “But, Fr. Ray, you just spoke about how disunited those two men were!”

That’s true.  But they are not disunited now!  In fact, at this moment, they have achieved a perfect unity—the kind that we can only dream about on this side of the grave. 

What caused this incredible, 180-degree change in the quality of their relationship?  And what’s the lesson they teach us about how to achieve greater unity in our Church, in our families, and in our other interpersonal relationships?

Very simply, the lesson is this: For unity to be attained within a group of people, something radical must happen on the inside of everyone involved!  And I mean everyone!

We see this clearly in Saul and Stephen.

Something radical happened inside of Stephen just before he died: he forgave his murderers—and that included Saul!  He fell to his knees and cried out, “Lord, do not hold this sin against them.”  Stephen cooperated with the grace which God offered him at that moment, and made the decision to pardon those who were stoning him to death.  If he had not made that decision—if he had allowed hatred to fill his heart, and had carried that with him to his grave—he could never have been united with Saul in God’s kingdom.  His hatred would have been an insurmountable obstacle to unity. 

The radical change that happened in Saul occurred not long after Stephen’s death.  We all know the story: Jesus knocked him to the ground as he was heading to Damascus to arrest more Christians, and our Lord said to him, “Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?”  The radical, interior change Saul experienced was his conversion to Christianity—a change that would ultimately lead to his becoming Saint Paul, the Apostle of Jesus Christ.

The unity which Stephen and Paul now share in heaven is beautifully expressed in this writing from a 6^th century bishop and saint:

Love was Stephen’s weapon by which he gained every battle, and so won the crown signified by his name.  His love of God kept him from yielding to the ferocious mob; his love for his neighbor made him pray for those who were stoning him.  Love inspired him to reprove those who erred, to make them amend; love led him to pray for those who stoned him, to save them from punishment.  Strengthened by the power of his love, he overcame the raging cruelty of Saul, and won his persecutor on earth as his companion in heaven. . . .

Now at last, Paul rejoices with Stephen, with Stephen he delights in the glory of Christ, with Stephen he exults, with Stephen he reigns.  Stephen went first, slain by the stones thrown by Paul, but Paul followed after, helped by the prayer of Stephen.  This, surely, is the true life, my brothers, a life in which Paul feels no shame because of Stephen’s death, and Stephen delights in Paul’s companionship, for love fills them both with joy.  It was Stephen’s love that prevailed over the cruelty of the mob, and it was Paul’s love that covered the multitude of his sins; it was love that won for both of them the kingdom of heaven.  (From a sermon by St. Fulgentius of Ruspe, 2^nd reading in the Office of Readings for Dec. 26.)

Think, this morning, of the people in your life with whom you desire a greater unity.  (No doubt some of them are in your own family.)  Then ask the Lord to help you to see what radical changes need to occur INSIDE YOU before this unity can come about.  The Lord may bring you to the realization that you need to forgive, or swallow your pride, or ask forgiveness, or deal with a bad habit or a personality flaw.

But—whatever it is—resolve to make that radical change with the help of God’s grace, and pray that everyone else involved in the situation will do the same. 

Remember, for unity to be attained within a group of people, something radical must happen on the inside of everyone involved. 

St. Stephen and St. Paul, pray for us, that we will be one, as you are one!

 

The Ascension of Jesus and the Importance of the Human Body

 

(Ascension Thursday 2022: This homily was given on May 26, 2022 at St. Pius X Church, Westerly, R.I., by Fr. Raymond Suriani.  Read Acts 1:1-14; Psalm 47:2-9; Ephesians 1:17-23; Luke 24:46-53.)

[For the audio version of this homily, click here: Ascension 2022]

When Jesus Christ—the Word made flesh—the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity made man—ascended  into heaven 40 days after he rose from the dead, he did so with his human body.

That fact is significant, because it means that ever since Ascension Thursday, heaven has been inhabited by a divine person who has a body like ours (although his body is already in a glorified state).

This is a truth of our faith—a truth of our faith that has some very practical implications for our daily lives.  It’s not just a tenet of the Creed! 

You see, if the Son of God had discarded his human body after his resurrection, and gone to heaven as a pure spirit, it would have sent us a message that our bodies are really not very important; it would have said to us that only our souls and spirits matter.

But that’s not what happened.  As I just said, Jesus went to heaven with his body!  That means our bodies do matter—they matter a lot! 

It’s not a coincidence that the Church says we are to respect the human body always—even in death. 

Sometimes when a relative dies, an otherwise good Catholic will ask questions like, “Why can’t I scatter grandma’s ashes to the four winds at the beach?  Grandma loved the beach!”  “Why can’t I keep grandma’s ashes in the living room on her favorite coffee table?  She sat in front of that table for years; it was her favorite place in the house.” 

Grandma’s ashes are to be interred in the ground or in a mausoleum, as the proper committal prayers of the Church are prayed, because her ashes are the ashes of a human body that will be raised from the dead at the end of time!  They’re the ashes of a body that was redeemed by Jesus Christ; they’re the ashes of a body that was made to live forever in a glorified state in the kingdom of heaven.  Hence they’re not to be thrown around like confetti at a wedding; nor are they to be used as a decoration for the living room coffee table!

Human bodies are to be treated with proper respect in death, because that’s the way we’re supposed to treat our bodies in life!

Of course, in treating our bodies with respect in life, we need to avoid two extremes: worship and abuse—both of which are extremely common today.

People who “worship” their bodies are people who value their physical health above everything else—including the health of their souls.

It’s a phenomenon that Pope John Paul II and other popes have referred to as “the cult of the body”.

Now what makes this attitude so difficult for us to resist is the fact that our materialistic and hedonistic culture actively promotes it!  For proof of that, just watch one of those cosmetic surgery programs on cable TV; or pick up a bodybuilding magazine or the latest issue of Cosmopolitan; or read the statistics on how many people—men and women alike—suffer from eating disorders.

Now don’t misunderstand me here.  As one who loves to work out at the gym, I’m a firm believer that maintaining your physical health is good; I’m a firm believer in the importance of taking proper care of your body—especially when you have a serious disease like I do.  But your body in its present condition is not immortal—so its value is not absolute.  You can do 1,000 push-ups and sit-ups a day, and have plastic surgery on 90% of your body—the fact is you’re still gonna die!

You may “die at your ideal weight” (as the old saying goes), but you’re still gonna die!  

Pope Pius XII said it very simply and very clearly many years ago: “Care for the body, strengthening of the body—yes; but cult of the body, making a god of the body—no.”

It’s a hard balance to achieve—especially nowadays—but we all need to work at it.

Which brings us to the other extreme that must be avoided, namely abuse.  Those who worship their bodies care for them too much; those who abuse their bodies care for them too little.

Obviously it’s wrong to abuse your body through drugs or alcohol—that’s a given.  But it’s also wrong to abuse your body in other ways: for example, by eating too much—or by not eating enough. 

It’s wrong to abuse your body by failing to go to the doctor when you’re sick, or by failing to take the medication you know you need to take for an illness that you have.

And it’s wrong to abuse your body by engaging in immoral sexual behaviors.

The Ascension of Jesus Christ reminds us that our bodies are made for heaven, not just for earth. 

Lord Jesus, help us all to remember that, and help us to live our lives accordingly—treating our bodies (and the bodies of others) with the respect they deserve, so that someday our glorified bodies will join yours in the kingdom of heaven.  Amen.

 

The Faithfulness of a Mother’s Love

(Fourth Sunday of Easter (C): This homily was given on May 8,2022 at St. Pius X Church, Westerly, R.I., by Fr. Raymond Suriani.  Read Acts 13:14, 43-52; Psalm 100; Revelation 7:9-14; John 10:27-30.)

[For the audio version of this homily, click here: Fourth Sunday of Easter 2022]

 

“Patient dead.  Mother prayed.  Patient came back to life.”  Those words were written by the first doctor who treated 14-year-old John Smith on January 19, 2015—the day he fell through the ice on a frozen lake near his home in St. Charles, Missouri.  By the time the first responders located John and pulled him out of the icy water, he wasn’t breathing, had no pulse, and had been without oxygen for a full 15 minutes.  They immediately started CPR and took him to the local hospital, where doctors and medical personnel continued to work on him feverishly for 43 more minutes—with no response.  The medical team finally gave up, and called in John’s adoptive mother, Joyce, so that she could pay her final respects to her son before they officially declared him dead. 

But Joyce Smith was not ready to give up hope for her son’s recovery!  And so she began to pray over his lifeless body—in a loud voice that could be heard throughout the emergency room of the hospital.  She doesn’t remember her entire prayer that day, but she does recall saying these words to God: “Please send your Holy Spirit to save my son!”

Suddenly, without any further medical intervention, the boy’s heart monitor began to register a pulse—which put him on the road to what has become a full and complete recovery.

John’s miraculous story is the subject of the film, Breakthrough, which debuted in theaters in 2019.  I highly recommend it (you can probably get it on Netflix or some other such service), since it’s a beautiful testimony to the power of prayer, and to the faithfulness of a mother’s love.

The reason I mention it in my homily today is primarily because of that last point. It’s Mother’s Day weekend, and this story witnesses in a powerful way to the faithfulness of a mother’s love—a good mother’s love.  The love of a good mother is not conditional; it does not depend on circumstances.  The love of a good mother is consistent and hopeful and selfless.  Some of us, unfortunately, might not have experienced that kind of love from our moms, but thankfully many of us have.  We should praise God today for that.

This kind of love was certainly present in Joyce Smith.  Here I think it’s important to note that even after John began to register a pulse in the ER, most of the medical personnel involved in his case were not very hopeful.  Neither was John’s adoptive father.  They all believed that even if John did somehow manage to survive this ordeal, his quality of life would be extremely poor—since he had been deprived of oxygen for so long and had probably experienced severe brain damage in the process.

Only Joyce persevered in her hope for a complete recovery.  Only she continued to believe that a positive outcome was possible.  She never gave up!  She had the kind of determination and perseverance that Paul and Barnabas exhibited in today’s first reading.  There we were told that these two apostles went into the synagogue in Antioch in Pisidia on two consecutive sabbaths, where they proclaimed the gospel message with clarity and conviction.  But not everybody liked what they heard on those two occasions—and these opponents of the apostles were definitely not quiet in their opposition.  As the Bible puts it, “They were filled with jealousy and with violent abuse contradicted what Paul said.”  Ultimately they threw the two apostles out of town.  But notice that Paul and Barnabas did not throw in the towel!  They didn’t give up their mission to preach and teach in the name of Christ.  They didn’t stop doing what they believed God wanted them to do.

They simply shook the dust of Antioch in Pisidia off their feet, and took the gospel message to the next town. And they did it joyfully, in the power of the Holy Spirit.

In her faithful love for her son, Joyce Smith (like Paul and Barnabas) refused to give up.  Yet her love was not perfect—as you’ll find out if you see the movie Breakthrough.  But that should not surprise us, since no earthly mother (however good she might be) loves her children with a perfect love. However the good news is that we do have a Mother in heaven who does love us in that way!  Regardless of what our earthly mother is or was like, our heavenly mother Mary loves us unconditionally and with a perfect faithfulness, always praying for us to grow closer to Jesus.  She never gives up on us or on any one of her children—even when they’re in the state of mortal sin and as dead spiritually as John Smith was dead physically. 

Some people would probably say that Mary’s faithful love for her children (that is to say, for all of us) is like Joyce Smith’s faithful love for her son John—but that would be wrong.  It’s actually Joyce’s imperfectly-faithful love for John that’s a bit like Mary’s perfectly-faithful love for us.  Mary’s love is the standard!  Her love is the perfect standard by which every earthly mother’s imperfect love is measured.  So let’s conclude now by seeking Mary’s prayers for all earthly moms (especially all the moms here present): that they will love their children in the future more like Mary loves her children always.  And so for all mothers we pray, “Hail, Mary …”

The ‘Reparation’ of Simon Peter: An Example for Us

 

(Third Sunday of Easter (C): This homily was given on May 1, 2022 at St. Pius X Church, Westerly, R.I., by Fr. Raymond Suriani.  Read “Acts 5:27-41; Psalm 30:2-13; Revelation 5:11-14; John 21:1-19.)

 [For the audio version of this homily, click here: Third Sunday of Easter 2022]

John steals $25 from his brother, Michael.  The next day John feels guilty for what he’s done, and he tells Michael that he’s sorry.  Michael says to John, “I forgive you.”  John says, “Thank you, Michael,” then turns around and starts to walk away.

If you were Michael, what would you do at that point?

I’ll tell you what I would do.  I’d yell out, “Hey, John, where are you going?  Come back here right now and give me my $25!”

And I’d have every right to do that.

12-year-old Tim is told by his dad not to play baseball too close to the house.  Well, Tim doesn’t listen to his father, and later that day he hits a long fly ball through the living room window.

Sound familiar to anyone?

Tim immediately regrets what he’s done and goes to his dad to apologize.

If you were Tim’s father, and you really cared about the moral and spiritual development of your son, what would you do at that point?

Once again, I’ll tell you what I would do.  I’d say, “Apology accepted; but you can forget about getting any allowance money for the next several weeks.  That cash will be used to help pay for a new window to replace the one you just broke!”

Those two little stories, my brothers and sisters, illustrate the idea of “reparation.”  Catholics used to talk about reparation—and specifically about “the need to make reparation”—all the time.  However, nowadays you rarely hear the concept even mentioned—although the Church still teaches it, and most people (even non-religious people) believe in a form of it, as those two stories make clear.  Even non-believers would agree that John should give the $25 back to his brother, Michael, and that Tim should use his allowance money to help to pay for the window he broke on his house.

That is to say, they would agree that these two boys need to repair the damage they caused by making some concrete acts of “reparation.”

If you are a member of AA (Alcoholics Anonymous) or some other 12-step group, then you are definitely familiar with this idea and practice.  For the benefit of those who may not be aware of it, Step 8 of AA’s recovery program reads as follows: “Made a list of all persons we had harmed [through our abuse of alcohol], and became willing to make amends to them all.” And then we have step 9, which is: “Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others.”

That’s reparation.

The need for reparation also explains why we are asked to do some kind of penance after we go to confession.  In paragraph 1491 of the Catechism of the Catholic Church it says this: “The sacrament of Penance is a whole consisting in three actions of the penitent and the priest's absolution. The penitent’s acts are repentance, confession or disclosure of sins to the priest, and the intention to make reparation and do works of reparation.”

During a confession, when I give a penitent prayers to say for his or her penance, I almost always tell the penitent to pray those prayers for specific people—usually the people (or at least some of the people) who were mentioned during the confession (people, in other words, who were hurt by the sins the penitent committed!).

That’s one way they can make reparation for what they’ve done: by praying for the people they’ve sinned against.

Here it’s important to note that reparation is rooted in justice, and is different from forgiveness.  Michael, for example, forgave his brother John when John said he was sorry for stealing Michael’s $25, but John still needed to give that money back to his brother—out of justice.  In the same way, Tim’s dad forgave his son immediately when Tim apologized for breaking the living room window.  But, out of justice, Tim still needed to help with the cost of getting the window fixed. 

The Catechism puts it this way: “Many sins wrong our neighbor. One must do what is possible in order to repair the harm (e.g., return stolen goods, restore the reputation of someone slandered, pay compensation for injuries). Simple justice requires as much. . . . Absolution takes away sin, but it does not remedy all the disorders sin has caused. Raised up from sin, the sinner must still recover his full spiritual health by doing something more to make amends for the sin: he must ‘make satisfaction for’ or ‘expiate’ his sins. This satisfaction is also called ‘penance.’”  (CCC, 1459)

I mention all this this morning because we have, in today’s gospel reading, a biblical precedent for this idea of reparation.  It comes from Simon Peter’s verbal exchange with the risen Christ at the Sea of Tiberias.  As we heard a few moments ago, three times in this post-resurrection scene Jesus says the same thing to Peter. 

He asks him, “Do you love me?”

Now Jesus was (and is!) God, so he obviously already knew the answer to that question!  He knew the love (and the repentance) that were in Peter’s heart—so why did he ask the question at all, let alone three times?

It’s because, only a few days earlier, Peter had denied three times that he even knew Jesus!  You remember the story, I’m sure; no need to recount it here. 

That means the questions were for Peter’s benefit; they were not designed to enlighten Jesus as to how Peter felt about him!  The three questions of Jesus at the Sea of Tiberius gave Peter three separate opportunities to make three separate acts of reparation for his three terrible sins of Holy Thursday night.

And make no mistake about it, answering those questions was definitely a penance for Peter—especially after Jesus said, “Simon, do you love me?” for the third time!  In fact, the text explicitly tells us that Peter at that point was “distressed”.  He was visibly upset.  He was also probably more than a little bit embarrassed at having to answer the same question three times in front of the other apostles!

I ask you this morning to think of the people whom you regularly hurt by your sins—starting with the people in your family: your husband, your wife, your parents, your children, your brothers and sisters, your co-workers, your fellow students, your friends—and the many other people with whom you share your life.

How often do you think of making reparation—through prayer or through various acts of charity—to these individuals for the sins you commit against them?

Hopefully you think of it often—and hopefully the thought often leads you to prayer and to some kind of concrete action.

Because remember, if we don’t make reparation for our sins here on this earth, we will need to do it after death—in that place we call purgatory—before we will be able to enter the kingdom of heaven.