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Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ (Corpus Christi), Cycle C

02 Jun 2013

SUNDAY SUMMARY Genesis 14:18-20 The old priest-king of Salem blesses Abram after a decisive victory over his enemies. Psalm 110:1, 2, 3, 4 This royal psalm confirms the king as a true son and priest of God. 1 Corinthians 11:23-26 The vicarious suffering of the just one first spoken by Isaiah is exemplified in Jesus. Luke 9:11b-17 The kingdom of God comes closer in the sharing of abundant food for the multitude.

Genesis 14:18-20 Psalm 110:1, 2, 3, 4 1 Corinthians 11:23-26 Luke 9:11b-17

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Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ (Corpus Christi), Cycle C

06 Jun 2010

SUNDAY SUMMARY Genesis 14:18-20 The curious king of future Jerusalem blesses the future father of nations. Psalm 110:1, 2, 3, 4 Princely power is bequeathed to those who follow in Melchizedek's line. 1 Corinthians 11:23-26 Paul explains the essence of the Christian understanding of the Eucharist. Luke 9:11b-17 Food that is blest turns out to be more than enough for all who are hungry.

Genesis 14:18-20 Psalm 110:1, 2, 3, 4 1 Corinthians 11:23-26 Luke 9:11b-17

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Pass it on

Funeral, Sacrament-based, Holy Day, Holiday, Special Occasion - Sample homilies to be adapted for your use

Holy days/feasts: Holy Thursday: Evening Mass of the Lord's Supper Readings: Exodus 12:1-8, 11-14; 1 Corinthians 11:23-26; John 13:1-15 "AS I HAVE DONE, so you must do.” . . . “Every time you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the death of the Lord until he comes!” . . . . “This day shall be a memorial feast for you . . . as a perpetual institution.” Rarely does scripture gather itself so sharply around one idea: the handing on of a memory. Each reading is addressed to someone who will be reading far in the future and tells that reader—tells you and me—to hold on to something, with both hands. And forever. We can understand this. We do it instinctively, sometimes desperately. We try to hold on to things, to people, because our lives are often fragmented if not fractured, because there seems to be less security in our world. We want to pass something on to the next generation that will ground them and hold them sure and secure as they tumble into the future that is always unknown. And what scripture gives us are not only memories but actions: instructions for what we must do, not merely say. So Exodus gives us the Passover meal that remembers both a slaughter and an escape, blood spilled as a judgment and blood smeared as a sign of salvation. Jesus gives us the inelegant work of washing feet, setting aside our prestige and our egos like fancy dress clothes that must be put away in order to take up plain and simple service. And Saint Paul gives us the earliest biblical account of the Eucharist—a meal. We are to eat bread and share a cup, and in this eating and drinking the saving death of Jesus shall be remembered and his presence recognized in every generation to come. This has been handed to us, which is what the word tradition means: to faithfully pass on to the future what we have reverently received from the past—not merely as a formal ritual but as a treasure that allows us to touch a timeless event so truly that we become one with it, sharing its joy and sharing its meaning. We live it now. This is what has been given to ground us here and now. This is what we give to the next generation to anchor them in faith. We seem always to be in a hurry, always thinking about the next thing to do. Yet tonight, after completing the day’s tasks, we stop. We remember." We then, tonight, are “a people in flight”—not, we hope, from fear, but because we live in a rushing world. We seem always to be in a hurry, always thinking about the next thing to do. Yet tonight, after completing the day’s tasks, we stop. We remember. We recognize that like the Hebrews in Egypt, we can stop running for a while. We recognize that even in our rushing about, God is mindful of us even if we are not always mindful of God. Our anxieties come pressing in on us, threatening to overwhelm us like the armies of Pharaoh. We remember we are a people who need to be saved—who cannot save ourselves. But tonight we remember God delivers us and the body and blood of Christ saves. We then, tonight, are a people who are once again being given the great treasure of our faith: On the night before he died, Jesus took bread and wine, established a new covenant in his own body and blood, and said, “Do this.” And, “Remember me.” And tonight, we do it. Tonight we remember how this treasure-tradition began and what it means to a people in flight. We then, tonight, are confronted with the stark reality of one whom we call Master and Lord, who, like a towel boy in a locker room, takes up a menial task, washing the dust from our feet. It is servant’s work, not master’s work, but Jesus makes it his work. And he hands it on as our work. “As I have done, so you must do.” And isn’t it interesting that all these memories, all these actions, are connected with a meal? How important to a people in flight. The journey tires us; we grow hungry along the way. And Jesus invites us to come away with him to rest and be refreshed. To break bread. To recognize him. Tonight we end our Lenten journey. Tonight we pause in our hectic life journey, covered in the dust and sweat of the day’s labors, and here we are welcome. Here there is room at the table. Here there is something for us to do for one another. Here is a matter of life and death. Here is a memory. Here is the Lord’s supper. Come. Partake. Remember.

Authors Father Larry Janowski O.F.M.

holy day/feast Holy Thursday Exodus 12:1-8, 11-14 1 Corinthians 11:23-26 John 13:1-15

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Do as I have done to you

Funeral, Sacrament-based, Holy Day, Holiday, Special Occasion - Sample homilies to be adapted for your use

Occasion: Holy Thursday: Evening Mass of the Lord's Supper Readings: Exodus 12:1-8, 11-14; 1 Corinthians 11:23-26; John 13:1-15 SO IF I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another's feet. For I have set you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you." It's understandable to feel a little reluctance at this challenge given to us by Jesus. Even Saint Peter balked. He said everything he could to deflect what Jesus was doing: "You will never wash my feet." Then Jesus did just that. OK—you're washing my feet, but Master, "then not only my feet, but my hands and my head as well," because I'm not worthy, I'm not clean. You can't do this thing, Peter said, and even if you do, it won't work. But accepting that the Lord would wash his disciples' feet was not the only uncomfortable truth with which Peter had trouble. He also did not want to hear Jesus predict his own Passion, as the Gospel of Mark tells us, for when Christ did so, "Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him" (8:32). To see the connection between sacrifice and service, however, is what God is asking of us tonight. What we do for one another comes not only from a desire to be kind, laudable though that may be. Our generosity grows out of the fact that no less than the Son of God gave himself completely. Hearing the gospel story from John, we tend to focus on the washing but not on the thing necessary for washing: water. Nothing in the gospels is there by accident; every detail is important. So why washing with water? If what Jesus did was only about service, he could have done any number of things. Jesus was not merely offering an example of the importance of doing nice things for people. He deliberately chose washing. The water of this washing signaled something to the church then and now: baptism—more particularly into what we are baptized. Only when we are baptized into Christ's death do we set our sights on serving others. Jesus was saying that his upcoming sacrifice joins him forever to God and made him a servant of God willing to pay the ultimate price. To be in communion with him, to be baptized into his Body, means to follow him in service to God and to the bodies around us: our sisters and brothers, indeed all of creation, whatever the cost. Jesus was saying that his upcoming sacrifice joins him forever to God and made him a servant of God willing to pay the ultimate price. To be in communion with him, to be baptized into his Body, means to follow him in service to God and to the bodies around us: our sisters and brothers, indeed all of creation, whatever the cost. Unlike the other gospels, John's placed the last meal with the disciples not on Passover but the evening before, when Jerusalem was preparing lambs for the feast. This circumstance could not have made more of an impact on the disciples: As their Master washed their feet, the sounds of the slaughter of Passover lambs was all over the city. Sacrifice and service, inextricably linked. Like the blood of the Passover lamb that nourished the Israelites for the journey to freedom, so Christ's blood gives us new life and victory over evil and death. Saint Paul's telling of the story of the Lord's Supper was a kind of creed in miniature of what we believe about the Eucharist: taking the bread and the cup, giving thanks, distributing them to the community. This is Christ's body given for us, his blood of the new covenant. When we do this in remembrance of him, we proclaim his death until he comes. We remember his death and wait for his glory. It's the last part—about remembering—that's especially important for us tonight. Memory is powerful. Remembering means keeping something alive. The "Last Supper" was not really the last. Jesus would eat with his disciples again after his resurrection on the shores of the Sea of Tiberias. And Christ has continued to share himself through the celebration of countless Eucharists since then. By following Christ's command, we bring forward the death and resurrection of Christ into the present, keeping it alive and making it real for us now, in this time before he comes again. Our procession this evening is not out of the church but with our Lord, who is really present, to his place of repose. Tonight you are invited to remain in the presence of the Blessed Sacrament, in this special presence of Christ. Our worship does not end. Like incense lingering in the air, we stay and keep watch with him. Our hope is to keep watch with him ever after. And to live with him and in him as we serve others.

Authors Joel Schorn

holy day/feast Holy Thursday Exodus 12:1-8, 11-14 1 Corinthians 11:23-26 John 13:1-15

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It is the Passover

Funeral, Sacrament-based, Holy Day, Holiday, Special Occasion - Sample homilies to be adapted for your use

Occasion: Holy Thursday: Evening Mass of the Lord's Supper Readings: Exodus 12:1-8, 11-14; 1 Corinthians 11:23-26; John 13:1-15 Passovers are for people on the move, people going from one thing to the next. And many of us, certainly, can relate. Our lives have become busier than we ever imagined they would be, and we frequently feel our time is not our own. There's always the next thing to do, the next place to go. And that's not all bad. Our activities, work, and responsibilities help to fill our lives and give them meaning. But passovers have to do with more than moving from one place to the next. They also have a still point. Just as we come to this place of worship after a busy day to find the stillness of Christ's presence, passovers are moments when we pull the presence of the divine out of the past and let that memory be alive for us now. That's what passovers do, and this evening we hear stories of passovers, of celebrations that draw on the old to create something new. That move and lead us beyond ourselves to freedom, new life, and generosity. In the first Passover the Israelites drew on a much older feast that harkened back to the days when they were shepherds, not slaves in Egypt. At the old feast shepherds would make an offering for the health and welfare of their flocks before setting off for new pastures. The new Passover also included sacrifice and movement. The blood of the lamb protected the people while they ate their last meal in bondage, the food of people on the move: roasted meat—no utensils needed!—and unleavened bread. This time their destination was not a new place to graze their livestock but the final pasture of the land and freedom God had promised them. Such was their passover, at which God rescued, protected, and delivered them. Like those Israelites, Saint Paul also drew on a tradition and turned it into something new. His telling of the first Eucharist, both the earliest written version of this sacred meal as well as a rare reference in Paul to the earthly life of Jesus, talked about what Paul received and what he handed on. We hear this story tonight because in it we recognize the familiar pattern of the Eucharist: In Jesus' taking, blessing, and breaking of bread, that bread becomes his body; in the taking of the cup, wine becomes his blood. Like those Israelites, Saint Paul also drew on a tradition and turned it into something new. His telling of the first Eucharist, both the earliest written version of this sacred meal as well as a rare reference in Paul to the earthly life of Jesus, talked about what Paul received and what he handed on. We hear this story tonight because in it we recognize the familiar pattern of the Eucharist: In Jesus' taking, blessing, and breaking of bread, that bread becomes his body; in the taking of the cup, wine becomes his blood. For Paul, though, there's a twist. He mentions "on the night he was handed over"—a reference to the weakness and betrayal of some of the people around Jesus. It's the same weakness for which he was taking the Corinthians to task. We tend to hear this passage from Paul in isolation, as some tidy formula about the Mass. It occurs, however, in the midst of Paul's harsh criticism of some in the Corinthian Christian community who were using eucharistic meals for their own selfish and elitist purposes, like excluding and lording it over others. The real reason for the celebration, Paul insisted, the true purpose of "doing this in remembrance" of Christ—of keeping Jesus' presence and memory alive—is not to turn Christ's sacrifice to some personal end but to "proclaim the death of the Lord until he comes." In other words, to imitate Jesus' self-offering by offering ourselves in service. That's what the Eucharist means. And that's precisely what was going on in the gospel. No "institution narrative" here but a story of servant leadership. Again it was Passover—Jesus' passover, when he makes Passover his own—and Christ leads by the example of washing the feet of the disciples to show them that sharing in his "inheritance" meant participation in his servant death. As with Paul, the eucharistic message had an edge and an invitation to imitate: "As I have done for you, you should do also." And so we have gathered for our passover tonight. Once again an old meal becomes something new and alive. Once again offerings are made for protection and deliverance. We celebrate a last supper before embarking on a journey to new life and freedom, and we celebrate it worthily when, in communion with Jesus, we pledge to imitate his selflessness: "To you will I offer the sacrifice of thanksgiving, and I will call upon the name of the Lord. My vows to the Lord I will pay in the presence of all his people."

Authors Joel Schorn

holy day/feast Holy Thursday Exodus 12:1-8, 11-14 1 Corinthians 11:23-26 John 13:1-15

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A meal that changes us

Funeral, Sacrament-based, Holy Day, Holiday, Special Occasion - Sample homilies to be adapted for your use

Occasion: Holy Thursday: Evening Mass of the Lord’s Supper Readings: Exodus 12:1-8, 11-14; 1 Corinthians 11:23-26; John 13:1-15 The tender touch of our mother on our feverish foreheads when we were children. The perhaps unusually warm hug our father gave us that time when we made him especially proud. Uncomplicated, simple, meaning-full human gestures that spring from a simple and mysterious reality: love. Despite how much we love someone, the richness of our vocabulary fails us. A simple touch, just by itself, makes real that same love. It makes it tangible—literally. The invisible becomes visible. Certainly we might want to hear God’s voice from above in times of need, but perhaps we long even more for God’s ongoing and active presence in our lives. We feel we need to see the invisible; to touch it and to have it touch us. We read the Old Testament accounts and might wonder why God is not present and visible in the world now as God was thousands of years ago?Where are the marvelous signs that will lead, guide, and sustain me through life, which at times seem like a captivity, a desert journey, a moonless midnight? Over 3,000 years ago that was precisely how the Israelites felt because that was their real situation. Where is that marvelous sign? they must have asked in their struggle. How can we see and touch and know that God loves us even in our darkest days? God made his love known to them when they gathered by families in community and celebrated what at its core is a very human event: a meal. Gathered in God’s name, they shared their faith and food, both themselves gifts of God. And they did so having marked their homes—their lives—with the sign of life itself. God made his love known to them when they gathered by families in community and celebrated what at its core is a very human event: a meal. Gathered in God’s name, they shared their faith and food, both themselves gifts of God. And they did so having marked their homes—their lives—with the sign of life itself. They were giving themselves to God, placing their lives in God’s hand, filled with the certain hope that God would make himself known to them. So certain was their hope that they were ready to go wherever God instructed them because they knew that God would be there with them. And so it happened on that night. Through a shared meal and a ready heart, their lives changed forever. The promises became reality and God’s love was visible to all. They were liberated from slavery in Egypt and on the road to freedom. Nevertheless there remained a different and more powerful captivity. As our Lenten journey helps us remember year after year, our humanity constantly wrestles with the oppression of sin, in our own lives and in the world. We know we are not truly free, as we were created to be, and ask God to rescue us once again. We want that sign that will tell us that we are truly free, truly alive, that “God is with us.” But at the same we believe—we know—that God is with us in Jesus Christ, the very Word of God made flesh. Through Jesus’ life the Reign of God erupts into the world and becomes real. In him God’s very essence and love become real. It is a love that, as Saint Paul recounts, the church has celebrated from its very beginning in the Eucharist. The memorial of an apparently simple meal on a evening like today, when Jesus and his community gathered and shared bread and wine. We know, though, that it was more than that. It was a powerfully unique supper. It was when Jesus made God’s love visible in the most profound way: through the breaking of his own body and the pouring of his own blood; a sacrifice we again will celebrate solemnly tomorrow on the second of these three most holy days, a sacrifice that truly destroyed our captivity to sin and death and has cleared for us the way to true freedom and life. The memorial of Christ we celebrate today, and every time we gather around the table of the Lord, does not leave us or our world unchanged. It continuously transforms us and makes us Christ-like so that when we leave this sacred space we do like him and, “tying a towel around our waist” as it were, we make God’s love visible to others by gently touching their lives where they need it the most. Jesus’ washing and drying the disciples feet with his own hands—on the same night in which he offered his broken body and his shed blood—becomes a model for us a total and transforming self-giving through which the invisible becomes visible: God’s all-powerful love that is tender, unforgettable, and that embraces all of creation—a love that we will commemorate with loud acclamations on the night in which death itself was defeated by Christ.

Authors Santiago Cortés-Sjöberg

holy day/feast Holy Thursday Exodus 12:1-8, 11-14 1 Corinthians 11:23-26 John 13:1-15

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Get your feet ready

Funeral, Sacrament-based, Holy Day, Holiday, Special Occasion - Sample homilies to be adapted for your use

Occasion: Holy Thursday: Evening Mass of the Lord's Supper Readings: Exodus 12:1-8, 11-14; 1 Corinthians 11:23-26; John 13:1-15 I traveled to India several years ago, and the experience made countless impressions on me. I was utterly enchanted by the country and its people, the food and music, the excitingly chaotic cities and blissfully serene countryside—the magic of it all blew me away. But oddly, among my jumble of memories from this incredible trip, was a keen awareness of my feet, which, like most Americans, I usually give little thought to. When you wear sandals in a hot, dry, dusty place and you tromp around on dirt roads along with camels, wild dogs, and various farm animals, your feet get pretty filthy. I was wisely advised ahead of time to bring a few pairs of cheap flip-flops I wouldn't mind throwing away. Believe me, at the end of my stay, I didn't want to put those shoes back in my suitcase, much less ever wear them again. Because shoes get so dirty, it's required in India that you remove them before you enter a home, temple, or mosque so that you don't track the dirt into a clean place, but also as a sign of respect. Americans routinely take their shoes off inside homes but we almost never do in public. And it's a strange sensation if you haven't before. It's extremely humbling to approach the sacred barefoot—appropriately so. When I was in these holy places, I was very conscious of my unclean feet and I wished I had the opportunity to wash them first. There's another tradition in India regarding feet and that is to bend down and touch the feet of elders—again, to humble oneself and show respect. Many of these same notions about feet existed in the time of Jesus because it was a similar type of environment. The washing of feet by a host for his guests—and by a person of honor as a sign of humility—is mentioned throughout the Old and New Testaments. Many of these same notions about feet existed in the time of Jesus because it was a similar type of environment. The washing of feet by a host for his guests—and by a person of honor as a sign of humility—is mentioned throughout the Old and New Testaments. That is what Jesus does before the Last Supper. The practice wasn't uncommon, but because of Jesus' stature it's too much for Peter to handle and he refuses to participate. Until Jesus corrects him, that is, and then Peter goes overboard and wants Jesus to wash his head and hands, too. Again, Jesus corrects him, reminding him that rituals of purity are just that—rituals. Rituals intended to cleanse—and prepare—the spirit, in this case, for the Paschal feast. There's a lot of meticulous preparation for Passover, one of the most important Jewish holidays. God gives very specific instructions to Moses and Aaron about how to observe Passover. The specificity indicates how significantit is, and the repetition of these exact same dictates, every year over the course of thousands of years, reinforces its meaning. Likewise, Jesus gives very specific instructions to his disciples about how to observe the Last Supper, which we repeat at every Mass. Repetition, though, can sometimes have the opposite of its intended effect; sometimes repetition dilutes meaning, when you take it for granted and go through the motions. The Passover feast and the celebration of the Eucharist are meals. Meals are relaxing. You share them with family and friends. It's easy to just enjoy yourself and forget what it's all about. But scripture reminds us not to get comfortable at these meals—"you shall eat like those who are in flight." Holy Thursday, at the Mass of the Lord's Supper, is an opportunity to remember and reflect on why the frequent reenactment of this meal is so central to Catholic worship. We are being passed over, saved by the blood of the sacrificed lamb, which protects us from death, but the meal, which required preparation, is preparation itself, for an undertaking. The Israelites are getting ready to leave Egypt and return to the Promised Land. Jesus is getting ready to leave and return to the Father. We are commanded to follow Jesus' model—"as I have done for you, you should also do"—and as pilgrims seek the Lord. Your feet aren't to be propped up with satisfaction; they have somewhere to take you.

Authors Jennifer Tomshack

holy day/feast Holy Thursday Exodus 12:1-8, 11-14 1 Corinthians 11:23-26 John 13:1-15

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Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ (Corpus Christi), Cycle C

29 May 2016

SUNDAY SUMMARY Genesis 14:18-20 The king of future Jerusalem gives Abram a solemn blessing. Psalm 110:1, 2, 3, 4 Ancient Melchizedek is the model for the priesthood of Jesus. 1 Corinthians 11:23-26 Paul describes the formula for Eucharist as it has been delivered to him. Luke 9:11b-17 Jesus performs his most popular miracle: dinner for 5,000.

Genesis 14:18-20 Psalm 110:1, 2, 3, 4 1 Corinthians 11:23-26 Luke 9:11b-17

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Preaching the News for the Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ (Corpus Christi), Cycle C

29 May 2016

SUNDAY SUMMARY Genesis 14:18-20 The king of future Jerusalem gives Abram a solemn blessing. Psalm 110:1, 2, 3, 4 Ancient Melchizedek is the model for the priesthood of Jesus. 1 Corinthians 11:23-26 Paul describes the formula for Eucharist as it has been delivered to him. Luke 9:11b-17 Jesus performs his most popular miracle: dinner for 5,000.

Genesis 14:18-20 Psalm 110:1, 2, 3, 4 1 Corinthians 11:23-26 Luke 9:11b-17

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