Today, as we near the end of another Church year – Advent is almost upon
us, believe it or not – there are a couple of questions on my mind. One
of them: does our world inspire any more hope than it did a year ago at
this time? And the other: what about our Church? Is there anything more
hopeful there?
Well, our world is still convulsed with
hostility and hatred; innocent people die daily from war and terrorism;
many still look upon life in the womb as expendable; homeless people
hunker down in doorways and alleys; migrants and asylum seekers are
still on the move in their desperate pursuit of freedom; people are
discriminated against because of race, religion, ethnicity, and sexual
orientation; our planet is threatened by global warming. So, not a lot
of hope there, sadly.
And what about our Church? Well, our
church certainly has its scandals, its divisions, its open hostilities.
And there is still a steady hemorrhage of people leaving the Church
because of doubt, disillusionment, or perceived irrelevance.
But is that the whole story? Are things really
that hopeless in the world and the Church? Let me zero in on the Church
to make a different case. The recent session of the Synod that took
place in Rome was, despite what you may have picked up from the media, a
moment of grace and hope for the Church. Cardinals, lay women and men,
bishops, priests, and vowed religious from across every country and
culture – north and south, east and west – sat together at round tables,
listened intently and prayerfully to the gentle promptings of the Holy
Spirit - listened to each other, too - engaged in respectful dialogue,
and in some cases, agreed to disagree – politely, for the most part!
In doing so, they were engaging in something
quite revolutionary: they were modeling a whole new way of being Church
- something never done before in our long history. And you were part of
it - all of you who participated in our parish’s synodal sessions – our
conversations in faith – back in the spring of 2022. You played a part.
But has anything changed? In a way, everything
has changed. I doubt we will ever be the same as a Church – ever go
about teaching, learning, and decision-making in the same way. From now
on, all the voices – not just those of the hierarchy – all the voices
will be at the table, the same table. And there’s no telling what the
Holy Spirit can do with that! Now, I doubt that change will come about
quickly – nor would I want to predict what the changes will be - but
changes there will surely be…!
So, there are signs of hope. Leaving aside the
world and its seemingly intractable challenges, there are definite signs
of hope in our Church, signs that are evident here in our parish: in our
prayer together each Sunday, in the efforts we make to grow in our faith
and in our understanding of our faith, in the way we welcome one
another, in the ways we reach out to serve the poor and needy and to
advocate on their behalf.
But what does any of this have to do with
today’s readings, with all their alarming apocalyptic overtones and
undertones – wars and insurrections, earthquakes, famines, plagues, and
disturbing signs in the heavens? Even with all of those, the readings
brought words of hope. I think, for instance, of the powerful image in
the reading from the Prophet Malachi of the dawning of the sun of
justice with its healing rays. The dreaded Day of the Lord may be coming
- the day when the proud and the evildoers will be set on fire and
burned like stubble - but for those who hold fast and fear God, there
will be hope, and healing, and peace.
And, for all their ability to alarm, Jesus’
prophetic words in the gospel about the end times are hopeful and
merciful words, too. If I may quote Pope Francis in one of his homilies,
“those who follow Jesus pay no heed to prophets of doom…or to terrifying
sermons and predictions that distract from the truly important things.”
The Pope then went on to say, “Amid the din of so many voices, Jesus
asks us to distinguish between what is from him and what is from the
false spirit. This is important: to distinguish the word of wisdom that
God speaks to us each day from the shouting of those who seek…to
frighten, and to nourish division and fear.” In other words, in spite of
all kinds of negatives, in spite of great angst and confusion, hope will
prevail for all who are faithful to the gospel, all who strive to be
faithful.
So, my friends, we hold onto hope, and we are
part of that hope. We are! And nowhere is hope more evident or
accessible than here at the table of the Eucharist. Think of it: when we
celebrate Eucharist, we are not only remembering and giving thanks to
God for the sacrificial death and glorious resurrection of Christ.
There’s even more: we also receiving Christ, the risen Christ – taking
into our own bodies and broken lives his Body broken for us, his Blood
poured out for us.
Now, I ask you: how can we not find hope, and
how can we not be changed by this sacramental encounter? Christ comes to
us, embraces us, takes up his dwelling within us! So, for all the
hopeless things going on around us in world and Church, there is hope,
great hope, and, as St. Paul wrote so long ago, “hope does not
disappoint!”
Father Michael G. Ryan
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