Sunday, June 16, 2024

A Homily for the 11th Sunday in Ordinary Time (B)


It can certainly seem as if we are living in dark days. With the ongoing war in the Ukraine, the conflict between Israel and the Palestinians, and sabre rattling in the South China Sea, the world seems to be in a dark place. Here at home we continue to face various crises: high inflation, the border with Mexico and immigration, drugs and alcohol addiction are at a high, attacks on the family, the approval rating of Congress at an all time low, and let’s be honest, is anyone really excited about either of the likely candidates for president of the two major parties? Dark days.

The Chosen People at the time of Ezekiel, who we heard in our first reading, were also facing dark days. The northern kingdom of Israel had fallen almost 200 years earlier, and now the southern kingdom of Judah had been crushed by the Babylonians. The House of David was fallen; most of the leading citizens were in exiled, the city of Jerusalem, including the Temple were sacked. It was very dark days.

Yet Ezekiel offers a prophecy of hope. God says that He is going to plant a cedar tree on a high mountain, and it is going to flourish. It is an image of the restoration of the House of David. “Birds of every kind shall dwell beneath it…” This is an image of how all the nations will be drawn to the “majestic cedar” of the House of God. Hope in the midst of darkness.

Another prophet of hope was the late, and in my opinion great, Pope Benedict XVI. He wrote and spoke a lot about hope.  He recognized hope as the antidote to a world crisis that is deeper and more dangerous than any economic or environmental catastrophe could ever be. Those kinds of material tragedies can cause us some painful suffering, but they cannot take away the meaning of life, which is to live in friendship with Christ by loving God and loving our neighbor. Even in the midst of intense suffering, we can continue doing that. So the most dangerous crisis in our age is not economic, environmental, or even political.

Instead, it is spiritual. It's the tendency of our culture to promise happiness without God.

Because of our technological advances, this promise tells us, it's only a matter of time before we ourselves create heaven on earth - no need for superstitions like religion to help us.

This is a false promise, because we were "made to live in communion with God, in whom [alone] we find happiness" (Catechism, #45). Christian hope is the mighty virtue that gives us the strength and wisdom to resist the seductive voice of this false, evil promise, keeps alive in our hearts the deep conviction that our true home is not here on earth, but in the Father's house in heaven, and sustains our faith in the midst of the darkness and difficulties of our earthly journey.

This is what St Paul is talking about in today's Second Reading. He reminds the Christians of the worldly, wealthy, and pleasure-centered Greek city of Corinth that their true happiness is waiting for them in heaven, when God will reward them for their service to his Kingdom here on earth. He points out that this long-term perspective, revealed by Christ, is the source of courage to resist temptation and despair. Then he writes that amazing line, describing how Christians navigate through this fallen world: "We walk by faith," he writes, "not by sight.”

There is a wrong way to interpret this phrase. For instance, when atheists hear, "We walk by faith, not by sight," they tend to interpret that as meaning, "To believe in God is to shut off your brain."

That, however, is not what St Paul means, nor is it what the Church teaches or what Catholics have done through the centuries. The Church invented the modern university; it built some of the earliest astronomical observatories; it preserved ancient literature and philosophy during the Dark Ages; it brought and continues to bring formal education to the poor and underprivileged on all five continents; it runs some of the world's most respected hospitals, schools, and colleges across the globe… Is this the record of a religion that tells its adherents to "shut off their brains"?

There is no contradiction between the supernatural knowledge of faith and the natural knowledge of sight, or reason, because they both lead us to truth, and all truth comes from God, and God can't contradict himself.

So there is no contradiction between faith and sight, but there is a priority: faith is first. As a result of original sin, human reason is slow and easily makes mistakes, which is partly why history is full of tragedies like war, genocide, famine, and other injustices.

The light of faith helps heal and support our damaged reason. Reason can be blinded by feelings and passions, like anger, lust, and greed. In those moments our faith kicks in and keeps us on the right path: "Forgive and you shall be forgiven," it reminds us, "Thou shalt not commit adultery... Store up your treasure in heaven..."

Walking "by faith and not by sight" doesn't mean shutting off our brains. Rather, it means turning on a flashlight [or: wearing infrared night goggles] to help guide us through the darkness of this fallen world.

Understanding that we "walk by faith, not by sight," is a help to every aspect of our Christian life, but maybe most especially to our life of prayer.

We live busy lives, full of challenges, problems, and difficulties alongside the many joys and satisfactions. As a result, when we come to Mass or prayer, we often find ourselves distracted, tired, or even a bit confused. What's more, in the back of our minds we are usually expecting strong emotional consolation, deep insights, and oceanic interior peace - as spiritual people do in the movies.

However, that is a false expectation, because we don't walk by sight, by what we can feel and touch; we walk by faith. Our faith tells us that prayer isn't about feelings, it's about friendship, and friendship is built on commitment, loyalty, and love.

That's the foundation of Christian prayer. When we pray, when we come to Mass, we don't come in order to stir up feelings - we can do that at the movies or at a concert. Rather, we come to turn the attention of our hearts and minds to God. If good feelings come, great, but if they don't, that's great too! It doesn't change the truth of friendship with God.

When dark clouds block out the sun for a little while, the sun is still there. Just so, when we turn to God in prayer and find it hard to feel his presence, our faith reminds us that he is always with us, listening to us, and guiding us.

As we continue this Mass, let's thank God for the gift of Christian hope and Christian faith, and let's promise to do our best to use these gifts this week, to exercise them, walking by the stable and dependable truth of faith, not the false and collapsible promise of sight.

A Homily for the 11th Sunday in Ordinary Time (B)

It can certainly seem as if we are living in dark days. With the ongoing war in the Ukraine, the conflict between Israel and the Palestin...