Watch this
homily! (begins at 25:45)
A week or so ago – August 21, to be exact - would have been the 104th
birthday of one of our former archbishops, Raymond Hunthausen. For the
benefit of newcomers and visitors, Archbishop Hunthausen led this local
church for 16 years in the 1970’s and ‘80’s. He left a mark on it that
endures to this day. It was my privilege to work alongside him as his
Chancellor during all those years and he gave me the greatest gift
possible back in 1988 when he appointed me pastor of St. James
Cathedral.
Archbishop Hunthausen came to mind when I reflected on today’s
scriptures. First, there was that verse from the Book of Sirach, “The
greater you are, humble yourself the more;” and then there were the two
familiar parables from Luke’s gospel: one about places of honor at a
wedding banquet, the other about whom to invite when you’re
entertaining. Humility is the thread that runs through those readings,
so it’s no wonder I thought of Archbishop Hunthausen. He was a humble
man in the truest sense of the word. For me, he defined humility - not
the insincere, posturing which sometimes passes for humility; no,
honest-to-God, down-to-earth humility that reflects its origins in the
Latin word for earth, humus. A humble person is one who knows that his
or her origins are as humble as the dust of the earth. And the humble
person also knows where he or she is headed – headed for glory – not
because of any personal accomplishments, but because of the wonders of
God’s grace.
In one of his homilies, the great St. Augustine spoke simply and
compellingly about humility. “For those who would learn God’s ways,” he
said, “humility is the first thing, humility is the second thing,
humility is the third thing.” To that I would only add: how hard it is
to learn God’s ways! Learning God’s ways means coming to the point where
we have a clear perspective on the truth about who we are and the truth
about who God is; letting go of any pretensions about our importance or
our achievements, and acknowledging that any good we are able to do is
really God’s doing – for the simple reason that any gifts we have are
God’s gifts.
That’s a far cry from those self-important people in the gospel parable
who grabbed all the places of honor at table. But why shouldn’t they?
They were only claiming their due. They considered themselves important,
so important that it never crossed their minds that someone even more
important might show up. How wrong they were; and how embarrassed they
must have been. Of course, Jesus didn’t tell the parable to help people
avoid embarrassment; he told it to teach a lesson about humility: don’t
imagine yourself great or important because there will always be some
who are greater or more important. And, besides, any importance you may
have achieved is really not your doing, it’s God’s!
Back to Archbishop Hunthausen. In May of 1975, just a day or two after
he was installed as Archbishop, he came here to St. James to ordain some
young men to the priesthood. Before the ordination, he was visiting with
people out there near the chapel steps. Typical for him, he was dressed
like a simple priest, without any of the fancy trappings of his office.
One of the young men about to be ordained happened to be there, and even
though the archbishop who had never met him, he recognized him from a
photograph and greeted him by name. But the young man didn’t have a clue
who was speaking to him and asked him who he was. “I’m Bishop
Hunthausen,” he said with a disarming smile. A far cry from a bishop I
once heard of who, if someone failed to recognize him or pay him due
deference, would be heard to say, “Does he know who I am?”
The sad thing is that a person like that doesn’t really know who he is.
Humility is truth, after all, and the path to humility is knowing and
embracing the truth about ourselves - not about our role or our
accomplishments, but about ourselves. We can be humble only when we know
and gratefully accept who we are and who God is.
The second little parable in today’s gospel follows nicely from the
first. One good way to learn humility is to hang out with the humble –
to invite into our company the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind,
the no-counts – even to sit with them at table and dine with them.
A tall order that we don’t tend to take literally or even seriously, but
let me tell you about a group of young people who often come here to the
Cathedral for Mass – Christian to the core each one of them, and most of
them not Catholic. They live together near the University of Washington,
and every week they do a remarkable thing: one or another of them goes
out and meets a homeless person on the street and invites him or her to
join their little community for a meal, conversation and, I’m sure,
prayer. I was deeply moved when I learned about this but a little
uncomfortable. This could be a little risky, I thought to myself. But
then Jesus came to mind. Isn’t that what he did time and again in his
ministry? And isn’t it his challenge to us in today’s gospel? And isn’t
it also what he does even now - with us – here at the table of the
Eucharist? For in his eyes, aren’t we, in one way or another, poor,
crippled, lame, blind? Not literally, perhaps, but certainly
figuratively!
Think about it, my friends. The One who, in the words of St. Paul,
humbled himself to become one of us, continues to humble himself as he
welcomes us to his table, feeds us, and actually takes delight in our
company!
Father Michael G. Ryan
Pastor Emeritus
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