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Homily stories

23 Oct 2011 - Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle A

Mr. Cardinale was rehearsing his lines in his mind. His daughter had missed curfew once again, and she'd already been warned. How often had he told her about curfew-rule number one? Now, he was going to lower the boom. Ground her for weeks. Take away her driving privileges. Let her know there are consequences to her actions. And the minutes dragged on. And his worry increased. And his anger increased along with his worry. The phone rang. "Mr. Cardinale, your daughter is here at the police station. She's OK. There was an accident. It wasn't her fault. We'll be bringing her home shortly, but she didn't want you to worry so she asked me to call." When his daughter arrived home, he saw the look on her face. He could see all that she'd gone through, the apology already on her lips. It softened his heart. He opened his arms and she came swiftly into his embrace. As if singing a duet, they said simultaneously, "I was so worried for you." The Cardinale home discovered it's new "rule number one": Love God and one another.

Authors Tom McGrath

love god love one another

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Homily stories

17 May 2009 - Sixth Sunday of Easter, Cycle B

All you need is love,” one of the most celebrated pop singles ever—written by the Beatles in 1967—said little more than: “All you need is love. Love. Love is all you need. Love. Love. Love.” Think about all of the songs and poems written throughout the history of our human family. Most deal with love in some form or another. It might be the love of another person or love of the natural world around us or the love of God. The mystery of love, it seems, often transcends language and can only be captured in music. Years later, former Beatle Paul McCartney would defend the Beatles love songs in “Silly Love Songs”: “You’d think that people would have had enough of silly love songs./I look around me and I see it isn’t so”—and then once again sings the praises of love. The second reading today gives us a beautiful hymn about love. And the psalmist’s words are echoed by Jesus in the gospel. “Love one another,” we are told. It is a message we can’t hear often enough. Love. Love. Love. And so, God’s unconditional love for us becomes a fortunate burden to share with one another. Don’t let it fool you. It isn’t easy. It’s tough but necessary. It certainly isn’t passé or trivial. Love is the real thing.

Authors Father Dominic Grassi

Beatles love one another God's unconditional love

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Homily themes

17 May 2009 - Sixth Sunday of Easter, Cycle B

Love one another as I love you. The lectionary readings this week offer a very interconnected message. God shows no partiality—just as Peter showed none when he crossed a religious boundary line to enter the house of Cornelius, and just as the Holy Spirit showed none in being poured out on the Gentiles. The love of God goes out to all, in the form of God’s Son who saves us and gives us life. In response, we are to love as God loves, that is, sacrificially. We also show this love in keeping the commandments and becoming friends of the Lord. Homily points Joy is an uncommon trait in human beings, perhaps because we go about attaining it in the wrong ways. Like other spiritual qualities, joy is most readily received through surrender, not acquisition. The kingdom paradox teaches us that surrender is the only way to possess what’s worth having. God initiates love, and participating in divine love makes our joy possible.

Authors Joel Schorn

love one another joy surrender

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Exploring the word

19 May 2019 - Fifth Sunday of Easter, Cycle C

For most of the church year, it is fair to say the gospel upstages the other readings used at Mass. Preachers may reach into the passage from Hebrew scripture to highlight the “promise” that the gospel “fulfills,” but the first reading serves largely as a backdrop for the main message. Paul’s letter-in-the-middle is even more rarely employed except by those preachers who are meticulous about proclaiming the whole enchilada—a practice that often taxes both assembly and homilist. Because the first reading and gospel are consciously paired in the lectionary, and the epistle generally goes its own way thematically, most homilies follow one stream or another, with an eye to winding up on a “Jesus” note either way. So it is intriguing to observe that in the season of Easter alone, the continuous reading from Acts of the Apostles becomes the centerpiece of the proclamation. The first reading is longer, more action-oriented, and provides more images than the clipped and cosmic theology of John that dominates the gospel at this time of year. It is the activity of the early church that provides the lens for our reflection during these liturgies, and that’s no accident. Post-Easter, we could say, the church is where it’s “at.” Where the apostles are “at” This weekend, Paul and Barnabas are still together, which means we are en route on Paul’s first missionary journey. They will break up over a difference of opinion concerning fellow missionary John Mark before long, but at the moment they are full of wonder at the great things God is doing everywhere they go. It is sad and a little unnerving to think of Paul and Barnabas separating. Barnabas sponsored Paul into the Christian community when no one else was willing to touch his conversion with a 10-foot pole. As missionaries, they have proclaimed the gospel, suffered hardships, prayed, and celebrated together. Why they finally split up over a personnel issue is hard to fathom. But it does remind us that the church has roots both human and divine from its inception. At the end of the first journey, the missionaries have nothing but good news to report. They acknowledge the necessity of enduring hardships but find the work God has done with them more compelling to talk about. When you read the circumstances of their journey, you are surprised that their report is made with such unqualified enthusiasm. Clearly, the response of the Gentiles to the story of salvation is so exciting to them that the rest pales in comparison. The vision thing The story of the apostles is always foremost in the Easter season, but in our present cycle of readings, the story of John’s revelations runs a close second. John creates a kind of celestial parallel to the goings-on of history, for in Acts we hear the Good News, while in Revelation we see it in its final manifestation. Have Paul and Barnabas stumbled upon the universality of the gospel message? In Revelation, we see the nations already gathered at the throne of the Lamb. Do the early missionaries rejoice that God has chosen to include all peoples in the work of salvation? Revelation shows us that the new creation is meant to be for all, because God dwells with the human race quite intentionally. So in attending to scripture this Easter season, we see the church of history and the saints eternally coexisting, as one provides the confirmation of the activities of the other. Paul and Barnabas discover the absolute newness of the message of salvation for all people, while the God of Ages declares throughout time, “Behold, I make all things new.” Jesus gives a new commandment When we appreciate the glorious juxtaposition of time and eternity revealed in this happy pairing, we can more deeply value the new imperative Jesus entrusts to his disciples on the eve of his death. Love one another; what’s so new about that? The merit of love, ours or God’s, was never in question. But viewed through the prism of the first two readings, we understand that God’s eternal plan is to break into time with something fresh and enlivening in every age. The expansion of God’s people from a national constituency to encompass the globe represents a widening of our vision more than a change of heart on the part of the divine. In the same way, the command to love doesn’t mean that God only recently adopted new standards but that the disciples are ready now to view the old commandments through a more perfect lens. Is anything ever “new” from God’s perspective? Because God exists outside of time, the issue is debatable. But because we are locked into the limitations of hours and years, not being able to see more than a few feet behind or ahead of us, much is often new to us. Each aspect of the Hebrew journey, every oracle of prophecy, and each teaching of Jesus becomes for us a new moment of revelation and illumination. So one day Jesus offered his followers a new yardstick by which to measure all that they do: the mandate to love. If we used that same yardstick in all our dealings, wouldn’t our whole world be made new in no time? Applying the word Called to be made new Are we stuck in a rut in our individual lives, or within this generation, or marooned at this point of human history? It can feel that way at times, but only because time is this inconvenient boulder blocking our perspective. The command to love is the call to be made new, and it is the one force divinely imbued with the power to move even mountains when necessary. If we love one another, and do not settle for less, then we will discover what the first apostles knew along their journey: the endless delight of what God can do and how all the old barriers to love dissolve as we become open to the possibility. Related scripture links Separation of Paul and Barnabas: Acts 15:36-41 Barnabas sponsors Paul: Acts 9:26-28 First missionary journey: Acts 13:1-14:28

Authors Alice Camille

love one another

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Homily stories

19 May 2019 - Fifth Sunday of Easter, Cycle C

One of my favorite movie moments occurs in The Christmas Carol when Ebenezer Scrooge throws open his shutters on Christmas morning and looks out on the world with new eyes. His late-night encounters with the ghosts of Christmas past, present, and future had shaken his preconceived notions about what to value in life. After years of bitterness and hoarding, his heart was newly open and all the world was wonderful. No matter the season, I always think about Scrooge when I read the passage from the Book of Revelation, “Behold, I make all things new.” When Scrooge awoke from his dream, nothing external in his life had changed. But because he had a change of heart, everything around him took on new meaning. Scrooge personifies the promise that all things can be made new. How? Jesus offers a sure-fire way to experience a radical reorientation in our lives. “Love one another,” he says. If you feel as if your life is in a rut, take Jesus’ advice to heart. Look around you and respond to those you see with loving care. For when we view the world with the eyes of love and generosity, we will surely recognize all the love and generosity that has been showered on us. And rather than experiencing life as a land of want and deprivation, we will be spending our days in the land of abundance. And that’s when all things will be made new.

Authors Tom McGrath

love one another

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Homily stories

19 May 2019 - Fifth Sunday of Easter, Cycle C

Jesus said to love one another, and each of us tries in small ways to do just that. It is a given that we strive to love parents, siblings, spouses, children, friends. But even to those outside our intimate circles we do our best—on a good day—to offer simple courtesies and acts of kindness. We send a note of thanks to a writer who moved us, drop off cookies to some do-gooder whom we felt deserved recognition, give an acquaintance an unexpected gift that we knew they’d really enjoy, hold the elevator for someone who’s rushing to catch it. Extending ourselves in such innocent and selfless ways makes us feel good because we know we’ve made someone else feel good. We’ve let another person know that they have worth, that they are remembered, and most of all, that they are loved. Now think of the small acts of kindness directed toward you by strangers or acquaintances. Someone offers you a seat on the bus when you’re loaded down with packages, a co-worker runs an errand for you when you’re having a particularly bad day, a driver lets you pass so you won’t miss your exit, a store clerk compliments you on your smile. These tender mercies signal to us that we, too, have worth, that we are remembered, and, above all, that we are loved. Thus God is glorified daily.

Authors Patrice J. Tuohy

love one another tender mercies

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Exploring the word

05 Feb 2023 - Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle A

Things are better when we take care of one another. Things grow worse if we don’t. That is nowhere truer than in families. Loving and purposeful families grow together and yield abundant dividends in loyalty, mutual encouragement, and assured welfare. Careless, neglectful, or abusive families reap sorrow and hostility that winds through the years and spreads the malignancy further. What’s true for the microcosm tends to be magnified in the macrocosm. Communities that care for their weaker members thrive in peace and well-being. Communities cut off from the fate of their disadvantaged ones will harvest division, unrest, and violence. Follow this simple formula through a single nation, or the league of nations, and its veracity continues to prove out. Hebrew prophecy proposed an answer as simple as the problem: Share your bread. Shelter your homeless. Clothe the naked. Don’t turn your back on your own. The nation that cares for its afflicted will be a beacon to the world. And woe to the nation that doesn’t. Even in midday, the gloom that it sows will overtake it. Jesus is also a fan of simplicity. “Love one another” is a great rule to live by. So is forgiving our trespassers, and being not afraid. If we practiced those three—love, forgiveness, courage—we’d have marvelous, radiant lives. We’d find our hearts curiously free of obstacles to becoming the people we want to be, happy and fulfilled. We’d also supply the salt to our communities so that everyone around us would lead richer lives simply because they know us, harvest our love, and are illumined by our example. When we live in the light and become the light ourselves, we discover our true purpose. Saint Paul understood that when he made his startling resolution to keep his gospel plain and simple. It wasn’t instinctive for him. Paul was a scholar: Pharisee-trained to delve into the webbed intricacies of law and celebrating the fine print in every legislated aspect of life. Living in a Hellenist society, he appreciated that wisdom teachers were supposed to show off their learning to garner impressed crowds. Paul could have done that. Yet he kept Christianity simple. He stayed close to the cross. Many prefer to multiply the requirements of faith, making salvation a Mt. Everest of expectations to climb and heaven itself the Land of Unobtainia. Christ, Paul said, opened a door through which this whole sinful world may pass. That’s it. No circumcision, no sacrifices, no umpteen Deuteronomic regulations to keep. Salvation is achieved, and it’s yours: Only reach out and take it! Is living according to our true purpose a challenge we are ready to embrace? Related scripture links The glory of the Lord: Gen. 15:17; Exod. 3:1-15, 13:21; Ps. 78:14; Ezek. 43:2; Acts 2:3 God is the giver of light: Gen. 1:3-5; Ps. 13:4; Prov. 29:13; Isa. 45:7 Jesus is the light: John 1:9, 3:19-21, 8:12, 9:5, 12:35, 46 We are the light: Luke 16:8b; John 12:36; 1 Thess. 5:5; Eph. 5:8 Other divine associations with light: 1 Tim. 6:16; 1 John 1:5-7 Catechism links Light of the world: CCC 782; 1216; 2105; 2466 Works of mercy: CCC 1829; 2446-2447 The power of God: CCC 124; 736

Authors Alice Camille

love one another

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