Day: June 12, 2019

Homily: Saint Luke, October 18

June 12, 2019 / Rev. Kurt Belsole, OSB

Pontifical North American College

Feast of Saint Luke

Rev. Kurt Belsole, OSB

October 18, 2018

One of the things that they say you should never do—is ask a doctoral student how his dissertation is going—the reason is because he will tell you—and then you will be subjected to information overload—and your eyes will glaze over—and you will bitterly regret your question—and you will wonder how you can change the subject—while all of the time you are trying to look interested—before the whole meal is ruined.

But the reason that the doctoral student will be so excited about what he is researching and writing is because he loves his topic—at least, I loved mine—and still do—the doctoral student—if he is really in to what he is doing, will spend a good deal of his waking hours researching, reading, making connections—and being surprised at times—and then writing about what he has found.

I say that because the feast that we are celebrating today reminds me of the beginning of Saint Luke’s gospel—Saint Luke—who was an evangelist, but not an apostle—not one who spent the years of Jesus’ public ministry with him—Saint Luke who had been a pagan, and was, in a certain sense an outsider, writes at the beginning of his gospel:

Many have undertaken to compile a narrative of the events which have been fulfilled in our midst, precisely as those events were transmitted to us by the original eyewitnesses and ministers of the word. I too have carefully traced the whole sequence of events from the beginning, and have decided to set it in writing for you Theophilus, so that Your Excellency may see how reliable the instruction was that you received.

Saint Luke, as he says, carefully traces the whole sequence of events and compiles a narrative of the events precisely as those events were transmitted.

It sounds a bit like writing a doctoral dissertation, which ideally is loved. Saint Luke must have loved very much that Jesus Christ whom the met and to whom he was converted—enough not only to have written his Gospel but also the Acts of the Apostles. It was an incredible amount of work.

This evening, I would like to take a look at just one small part of the gospel that we heard today from Saint Luke and reflect on it:

In the gospel this evening, we heard that the Lord Jesus appointed seventy-two disciples whom he sent ahead of him in pairs to every town and place he intended to visit.

I would propose for your reflection that the place that Jesus intends to visit is not geographical—but personal. He visits—not just villages in Judea or Galilee—rather, and more importantly, he intends to visit the human heart and because of the indwelling Trinity that we receive at baptism—he intends not just to visit, but to dwell there.

It is the heart that he visits and it is in the heart that he dwells—in the Jewish sense—where we think—and where we exercise our will—it is the heart that Jesus intends to visit and, indeed, to dwell within.

At the end of the story of the birth of the Messiah, and after the shepherds return to their flocks, St. Luke writes in his gospel that Mary treasured all these things and reflected on them in her heart—and the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen (Lk 2:19-20).

And when Jesus was found as a twelve-year old boy teaching the teachers in the temple, he went down to Nazareth and was obedient to Mary and Joseph—and again, Luke writes that Mary kept all of these things in her heart (Lk. 2:51). Mary thought a lot about her Son—and frequently.

Or as the Lord calls us to live in what the Fathers of the Church call purity of heart, St. Luke reminds us that a good man produces goodness from the good in his heart; and evil man produces evil out of his store of evil. Each man speaks from his heart’s abundance (Lk. 6:45).

And finally, there is the parable of the Good Samaritan, which begins with the Lord saying that you shall love the Lord your God with your whole heart, your whole soul, with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself (Lk. 10:27).

And then immediately after that, we have the parable of the Good Samaritan. When I hear this parable, I can only ever think of the great interpretation of Christ himself as the Good Samaritan—which was used in the Church already in the second century—and which Saint Ambrose in his Commentary on the Gospel of Luke writes—when he asks about who showed himself to be neighbor to the man who fell among robbers—and he answers: the one who came close to him—in Latin, the one who made himself the traveler’s proximus—the proximus—his neighbor—the one who came close to him—referring to the Son of God who came into our world—to make himself close to us—even in our difficulties as the Psalmist says: The Lord is close to the broken-hearted, and those whose spirit is crushed, he will save (Ps. 34:19).

Returning to today’s gospel: Jesus sent out the seventy-two—and we pray that he send us out as well—and we pray for an increase of vocations to the priesthood—that the Lord send out more laborers for his harvest—that he may not only visit—but that he may dwell in the hearts of all.

St. Luke, pray for us.

Homily: Saint Lucy, December 13

June 12, 2019 / Rev. Kurt Belsole, OSB

Pontifical North American College

Saint Lucy, Memorial

Thursday of the Second Week of Advent

Rev. Kurt Belsole, OSB

December 13, 2018

Today we celebrate the feast of Saint Lucy, a virgin martyr of the early Church from Syracuse in Sicily and whose incorrupt remains are found today in Venice in the church of San Geremia e Santa Lucia. She was probably martyred during the reign of Diocletian and is venerated as the patroness of people who have trouble seeing and those who are poor.

Today’s feast and today’s readings give us two realities to reflect on:

First of all, and I am not usually one to recommend that people go and check out things on the internet, but today you might just want to Google: Sunset in Rome on December 13^th. I say that because in this season of Advent as the days are getting shorter, and as the darkness surrounds us more and more, we proclaim, in the Vespers hymn, Christ, the Light of the World, as the Creator of the Stars of Night—Cónditor alme siderum.

The reason that you should Google for sunset today is that on the feast of Saint Lucy, sunset stops getting earlier and slowly, within four days, it begins to get later. In other words, already beginning with today’s feast, the afternoons are starting to get longer. At the same time, sunrise continues to get later until on December 25^th when it is one minute earlier than on December 24^th.

Saint Lucy may well have been martyred on this day, but if she was not,

I do not know how the astronomers, at the time that Saint Lucy’s feast was assigned to today, knew that sunset would start getting later—but they did—and her name is a living symbol, amidst the season’s darkness—of how Christ, through his saints—brings light into the world. Her very name echoes the Latin word for light: lux, lucis. We celebrate Lucy, because we celebrate Christ who is the Light who has come into the world—a Light that darkness does not overcome.

A second reality to reflect on is the person of Saint John the Baptist—and as the season of Advent continues, it is not just the person of John the Baptist himself, but Christ’s own testimony to John that comes more and more to the fore. This evening, we heard the Lord saying: Among those born of women, there has been none greater than John the Baptist . . . and; All the prophets and the law prophesied up to the time of John. And if you are willing to accept it, he is Elijah, the one who is to come.

John is the last of the prophets, and in his own person he summarizes, so to speak, the whole of the history of the People of Israel that is about to come to completion in the Messiah. In a sense, John incarnates the spirit of Advent. He is the sign of God intervening on behalf of his people. He calls the people to prepare the way of the Lord. And he offers to Israel the knowledge of salvation that consists in the forgiveness of sins—the work of the loving kindness of our God—or to put it more literally—per viscera misericordiae Dei nostri—through the bowels of mercy—the splankna theou.

John wants always to give Christ the first place—he is the friend of the Bridegroom and is happy when he hears the Bridegroom’s voice—he himself testifies that Christ must increase and he must decrease—and to look at natural symbolism and Christian liturgy again, it is not without reason that the feast of John the Baptist’s birth is set on June 24 when sunrise in Rome moves from 5:35 AM on the 24^th to 5:36 AM on the following day—which, therefore, becomes one minute shorter than the preceding day. In that sense, the Baptist is always a model for us in respect to Christ. He must increase, I must decrease.

In a deeper sense though, the amazing greatness of John the Baptist is that one cannot speak of John without speaking of Christ—and would that this might be said of us—that people could not speak of us without speaking of Christ!

All glory be to him now and forever. Amen.

Homily: Monday of Holy Week

June 12, 2019 / Rev. Kurt Belsole, OSB

Pontifical North American College

Monday of Holy Week

Rev. Kurt Belsole, OSB

April 15, 2019

Yesterday, with Palm Sunday, we entered into what has been called the kairós par excellence—the true time of the Lord’s intervention in history.

And yesterday, in the gospel, we encountered the city of Jerusalem in a sort of uproar—greeting the Lord who enters into his own city astride a colt—people spreading their cloaks on his path—and then the whole of the Lord’s passion and death taking place in the Holy City.

Today is much different—and much calmer. The gospel places us in the intimate and friendly atmosphere of the house of Martha, Mary, and Lazarus in Bethany.

But before we get there, it might be good to reflect on the reading that precedes it:

In the first reading, we hear the voice of the Father supporting and sustaining his Son—not saving him from his Hour, but confirming him in his mission:
- From the Prophet Isaiah we heard: Here is my servant whom I uphold, my chosen one with whom I am pleased, upon whom I have put my Spirit . . . I, the Lord, have called you for the victory of justice . . . To bring out prisoners from confinement, and from the dungeon, those who live in darkness.

And then, as in a dialogue, the Son responds in the Responsorial Psalm—in a sense he repeats his fiat—not my will, but your will be done—as Christ conquers the fear that is due to the fragility of the human nature that he has taken upon himself:
- From Psalm 27: The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom should I fear?. . . Though war be waged against me, even then will I trust . . . I believe that I shall see the bounty of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord with courage; be stouthearted, and wait for the Lord.
The fear of the enemy and the anxiety of the imminent Passion—are actually ours not his—they are a result of the Incarnation—and he asks for help and comfort—because that is what we need in the many challenges of our human condition.

Finally, in the gospel, we enter into the warmth of friendship—and Jesus takes part in the final supper offered by his friends, Martha, Mary, and Lazarus. Beyond the supper, however, is the exquisite finesse of true hospitality. Mary anoints and perfumes the Lord’s feet—and the fragrance fills the house. That is certainly nice. But between friends, something was more important than the perfumed oil that filled the house. Much more precious than the genuine aromatic nard was the presence of the Lord—their close friend—and his presence filled the house. What seemed to the traitor Judas to be too much—between friends was really too little.

Sadly, in the midst of this gathering of intimate friendship was the presence of that disciple who was a thief and a traitor. For Christ, his passion has, in a certain sense, already begun, in what should have been the warmest of gatherings, and one might call this his First Station on his Way of the Cross.

For us, we all are poor in our love of Christ—and we may have even betrayed him. Nonetheless, he comes to us constantly, even now, in order to find a Bethany where he can rest among friends –even though he accepts the risk of being refused or betrayed.

He always wants to be more intimate to us than we are to ourselves—and his motive is always to fulfill the mission that comes to him from the Father—even if it means betrayal and the cross. It is that mission that we commemorate this week—with gratitude beyond all measure.

All glory be to him now and forever. Amen.

Homily: Saint Joseph the Worker, May 1

June 12, 2019 / Rev. Kurt Belsole, OSB

Pontifical North American College

Saint Joseph the Worker

Rev. Kurt Belsole, OSB

May 1, 2019

We just heard in the first reading from the Letter to the Colossians:

Over all these things put on love . . . let the peace of Christ control your hearts . . . do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus . . . be slaves of Christ the Lord.

An old Hungarian folk story is about a priest and a young man in the middle ages who are walking through the city square where the annual fair is being held—and there are all sorts of food and drink and games being sold and enjoyed.

As they walk through the square, they pass a young man a woman in an embrace—and the priest says to the young man—see they are slaves of what people call love. They walk on a bit farther and come upon a table of people downing sausages and bread and washing it all down with beer—and the priest says to the young man—see they are slaves of food. And they walk on further and come upon people seated at what we would call today call a “board game”—and the priest says to the young man—see they are slaves of games.

And the young man turns to the priest and asks: Father, are we all slaves—and the priest says to the young man—yes. And the young man asks the priest whose slaves are we—and the priest says: We are slaves of God.

We are slaves of God—that might sound a bit shocking—but it is actually a blessing. To return to the Letter to the Colossians: Over all these things put on love . . . let the peace of Christ control your hearts . . . do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus . . . be slaves of Christ the Lord.

To be a slave of the One who brings genuine love and true peace—can only be a blessing. To serve and foster that is nothing less than absolute grace and real freedom—a taste of heaven on earth.

Today, we celebrate Saint Joseph the Worker, an optional memorial—and liturgically much less than the Solemnity of Saint Joseph, Spouse of the Blessed Virgin Mary, which we celebrated on March 19^th.

Today’s is a recent celebration—having been instituted only in 1955 and celebrated on this date for the first time less than 70 years ago. Pope Pius XII, wanted, in a sense, to baptize May Day—the feast of workers that was being so fostered and celebrated by the communists and socialists—at a time when communism was a very real threat in Italy.

But despite its level of being only an optional memorial and despite its recent inclusion on the liturgical calendar, it is good that we celebrate Saint Joseph the Worker–today—and not just to recall that we are slaves of Christ the Lord—which means servants of love and of peace.

In the life of a community of men, where the list of house jobs is being prepared and where Pastoral Council and STUAC elections are about to be held, it is helpful to recognize that it is generally the case that men show their love by working for a place and the people there. Men show their love by working. Their care is often shown in providing—they create space for life—carpenters do that—and Jesus was known as the carpenter’s Son.

For us to clothe all things with love . . . to have the peace of Christ reign in our hearts . . . and to be slaves of Christ the Lord is nothing less than glorious—an opportunity to show our love by working for the people around us—and it is a celebration of Saint Joseph the Worker—who created a space for life—in the home of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. May we provide a space for life to those with whom we live.

God bless you.

Homily: Pentecost, Year C

June 12, 2019 / Rev. Kurt Belsole, OSB

The Pontifical North American College

Solemnity of Pentecost

“We hear them speaking of the mighty acts of God.”

June 9, 2019

We just heard in the reading from The Acts of the Apostles, at the very end of the reading—devout Jews from every nation under heaven saying: We hear them speaking in our own tongues of the mighty acts of God.

I have a confession to make:—I absolutely love Pentecost.

For over 40 years now, I have included the Sequence for Pentecost as part of my thanksgiving every day after Mass.

I love Pentecost because I love and I am indescribably grateful for the mighty acts of God. I give thanks for them with a gratitude that is beyond words, and I can never even begin to fathom the depths of them.

The mighty acts of God—or as they are known in theology, the magnalia Dei—the marvelous works of God continue to astound all who bear the name of Christian.

Sometimes Pentecost is quite unfairly depicted as the feast of the Holy Spirit, the Third Person of the Blessed Trinity—as if we needed a feast for the Father, a feast for the Son, and a feast of the Holy Spirit—it is hardly that.

Just as we do not have a feast of God the Father, nor could we point to a specific feast that we would call the feast of the Son, neither do we have a feast of the Holy Spirit. If you are already a divine person, you do not worry a whole lot about having your own feast. What we celebrate today is not the Holy Spirit, but the sending of the Spirit in light of the marvelous works of God in the context of the whole of Christ’s Paschal Mystery.

What is not important is that people heard the disciples speaking different languages—what is important is that the confusion at the tower of Babel and the dispersion of peoples that it caused—is overcome and that peoples of every land and every tongue hear of the marvelous works of God.

When the sacred liturgy was renewed after the Second Vatican Council, the octave of Pentecost was suppressed—because Pentecost is the conclusion of something—the celebration of the mysteries of the mission of the Son—and nothing less than the capstone of the celebration of the Paschal Mystery.

What does it mean for the days of Pentecost to be fulfilled—dum complerentur dies Pentecostes?

Pentecost is the fulfillment of the whole of the Paschal Mystery of Christ—moving through the Annunciation to the Sending of the Spirit—or as we will pray in a few minutes in the Preface of Pentecost: For, bringing your Paschal Mystery to completion, you bestowed the Holy Spirit on those you made your adopted children by uniting them to your Only Begotten Son.

For, bringing your Paschal Mystery to completion, you bestowed the Holy Spirit on those you made your adopted children by uniting them to your Only Begotten Son:

The marvelous works of God mean nothing less than the re-creation of the whole world—that re-creation—for our salvation—which was begun at the Annunciation—and carried through to the Ascension and the sending of the Spirit.

To recall just some of the magnalia Dei of divine redemption in the Paschal Mystery that we celebrate as a Church today, we commemorate:

The marvelous works of God at the Annunciation—when for the sake of our salvation the Divine Word took upon himself our human nature, so in need of redemption—we read:
- The angel Gabriel was sent from God to a virgin whose name was Mary—hail full of grace—you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall name him Jesus. He will be great and will be called Son of the Most High.

And the marvelous works of God at Christmas—exactly nine months later when the Son of God who is also the Son of Mary is born for us—we read:
- She gave birth to her firstborn son—and the angel appeared to the shepherds saying: “Do not be afraid; I proclaim to you good news of great joy—a savior has been born for you who is Christ the Lord.

And the marvelous works of God at the Epiphany as the Lord is revealed as the light of revelation to the Gentiles and the glory of God’s people Israel—we read:
- You shall be radiant at what you see, your heart shall throb and overflow—and the Magi were overjoyed at seeing the star—and they prostrated themselves, did him homage, opened their treasures, and offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.

And the marvelous works of God at the Baptism of the Lord at the beginning of his public ministry—we read:
- After Jesus was baptized, he came up from the water and behold, the heavens were opened for him, and John saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and coming upon him—as a voice sounded from the heavens, saying, “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased.”

And the marvelous works of God on Palm Sunday—we read:
- They proclaimed: “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord. Peace in heaven and glory in the highest.”

And the marvelous works of God on Holy Thursday when Christ washed the apostles’ feet and said:
- “Do you realize what I have done for you—if I, therefore, the master and teacher have washed your feet, you ought to wash one another’s feet.”

And the marvelous works of God on Good Friday—we read:
- Christ became obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. Because of this, God greatly exalted him and bestowed on him the name which is above every other name.

And the marvelous works of God on Holy Saturday, as we hear in the Office of Readings—Christ saying to Adam as he and his descendants are held in the prison of the underworld:
- Rise, let us leave this place. The enemy led you out of the earthly paradise. I will not restore you to that paradise, but I will enthrone you in heaven—I appointed cherubim to guard you as slaves are guarded, but now I make them worship you as God—the bridal chamber is adorned, the banquet is ready—the kingdom of heaven has been prepared for you from all eternity.

And the marvelous works of God on Easter Sunday—we read:
- They found the stone rolled away from the tomb—they did not find the body of the Lord Jesus—they sought the living one among the dead.

And the marvelous works of God throughout the Easter Season when:
- The disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord.
- And our hearts burned within us while he spoke to us on the way and opened the Scriptures to us.
- And when Jesus tells Mary Magdalen not to cling to him—because he has to be free to go to the Father and send the Spirit upon us.
- And when He says that if we loved him, we would rejoice to have him go to the Father.
- And where he tells the apostles that it is better for them if he goes, because if he does not go, the Advocate will not come to them.

And the marvelous works of God at the Ascension—when we read:
- Behold, I am with you always, until the end of the age.”

Today, on the feast of Pentecost, we meet again the marvelous works of God when, in the final act of the Paschal Mystery, the Spirit—the Consoler and the Advocate is sent from the Father.

In baptism we have received the Spirit of adoption by which we cry out Abba—Father—and God dwells in us as truly as he dwells in the tabernacle—Head and Members are one in the Mystical Body—Christ is the vine and we are united to him as the branches—and we are pruned—that we might bear fruit in plenty. We have become sharers in the divine nature, and, by grace, divine blood courses through our very bodies.

God never rations the gift of the Spirit—and for us—because of the great Paschal Mystery—life is not transformed but transfigured. The Father speaks, and we hear: “You are my beloved son/you are my beloved daughter,” and today new wine is poured into new wineskins—because as St. John says: We have come to know and to believe in the love that God has for us. God is love.

And as one of the Entrance Antiphons for today says: The love of God has been poured into our hearts through the Spirit of God dwelling within us, alleluia. And as we will sing again and again today in the Communion Antiphon: They were all filled with the Holy Spirit and spoke of the marvels of God, alleluia.

We have heard and we celebrate the mighty acts of God—they animate every fiber of our being—and like the devout Jews gathered in Jerusalem at Pentecost, we can only be astounded and amazed—and grateful beyond words—at the mighty acts of God—all that God in his mercy has done for us.

Glory be to him now and forever. Amen.

Day: June 12, 2019

Homily: Saint Luke, October 18

Homily: Saint Lucy, December 13

Homily: Monday of Holy Week

Homily: Saint Joseph the Worker, May 1

Homily: Pentecost, Year C

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