The 26th Sunday of Ordinary Time
September 28, 2014
In today’s reading from the Letter to the Philippians, St. Paul sounds less
like the great Apostle to the Gentiles than he does just a pastor pouring
out his heart to his people, sharing with them his fondest hopes -- that
they would be a loving community, a united community, a community with the
humble, servant, self-emptying Christ right at the center. “Complete my
joy,” he tells them, “by being of the same mind, with the same love, united
in heart, thinking one thing.”
Those are words any pastor can relate to. Every
pastor wants his community to be energized by their faith in Jesus Christ and by
their communion in God’s Spirit, to be strong in love, compassionate and
merciful toward one another, one in mind and heart. And, my friends, I hope it
doesn’t sound boastful if I say that is what we are. Not completely so, of
course. No! But it’s what we strive to be, hope to be, pray to be. And
it’s our coming here together each Sunday that makes it possible. The Eucharist
we celebrate is the source of our life, not just as individuals but as a
community, and the Eucharist is also the summit, the pinnacle, of all our
prayer. Our life flows from the Eucharist and our greatest energy should flow
toward it.
Every few years I like to reflect a little with you
about the way we pray together because even though I think we do it well, we can
always do it better. But let me first acknowledge that, thanks to you, St. James
Cathedral has a reputation for being a place where the Church’s liturgy is
celebrated with reverence, beauty, and warmth, a place where the people actively
participate. Not long ago, the Rector of St. Patrick’s Cathedral in New York
referred to us as “America’s Cathedral.” High praise! But praise like that pales
when compared to the personal joy I experience in praying with you in this holy
place. Gathering here with you here Sunday after Sunday is the highlight of my
life. But, as I said, we can always do better.
For instance, our celebrations would be even better
than they are if all of us, not just most of us, were to regard the sung
responses and hymns, not as background music but as communal prayers. We have
two kinds of prayers at Mass, as you know: spoken and sung. But both are
prayers, and why pass on a prayer! And I know that some of us are convinced that
we can’t sing. No matter. Every human voice is music to God’s ear. So, if you
need an incentive to pick up the Order of Celebration and join in the hymns and
responses, there’s one!
And our celebrations would be even better than they
are if we took advantage of all the quiet moments during Mass -- the pause
during the penitential rite, the brief moments that follow the “Let us pray” at
the opening prayer, the pauses that follow the readings and the homily – our
prayer would be better if we took advantage of those silent moments to tune into
the quiet promptings of God’s spirit deep in our hearts. Those moments are as
much a prayer as the sung or spoken parts.
And now, at the risk of taking my life in my hands,
I will say that our celebrations would be even better if we got here on time and
stayed until the end. I know last minute emergencies can cause late
arrivals (especially for families with babies and small children). That’s to be
expected. What’s not to be expected is arriving consistently late, effectively
treating the whole first part of the Mass, the proclamation of God’s Word, as if
it was an optional extra like the warm-up at a rock concert or batting practice
at a baseball game. It isn’t! The Liturgy of the Word is as important as
the Liturgy of the Eucharist. We are fed from two tables at Mass: the
table of the Word and the table of the Eucharist. To miss either one is to
miss out on essential nourishment. And leaving Mass early – during or
right after Communion – except in cases of real necessity - is a bad statement
about priorities. The hymn of praise is part of our prayer and so is the
final prayer and blessing. So why leave early? Why miss a prayer?
Why forego a blessing?
These remarks will be incomplete if I don’t say a
word about unwelcome sounds during Mass. As far as I’m concerned, the only
really unwelcome sounds are those of cell phones with their ever so entertaining
ring tones. So thank you for turning them off. It may not guarantee you a
high place in heaven but it will surely save you from looks that could kill…!
As far as other sounds are concerned, the voices of
babies (including their cries) are welcome sounds! I consider it a great
blessing that there are so many young families with babies and young children in
this parish. It’s one of our greatest blessings. But, I know, there can be times
when the insistent cry or ongoing chatter of a baby might mean “Can I please go
outside for a break?” But I leave it up to you parents to interpret your
babies’ cries. Just know that they are always welcome at St. James! They are our
joy, our future.
Let me return to where I began: to St. Paul’s words
to his beloved community at Philippi. There is much to encourage you
about: there is compassion and mercy in this community, there is love, there is
joy and peace in the Holy Spirit. There is among us the mind and attitude
of Jesus Christ. In so many ways you have taken to heart your baptismal call and
dignity and you show this by the wonderful way you worship together in this
place, bringing heaven very close to earth. You show it, too, by the way you go
out from here to serve the poor in Christ’s name. There is no doubt about it: we
are a strong community of faith, but we can always be a stronger one, we can
always be a better one!
Father Michael G. Ryan