Who Do You Say That I Am?

Transformed in the Spirit

 Fr. Raymond Lafontaine, E.V.  June 19, 2016

Three years ago, when we met as parish leaders to discern our future orientations, we reflected on a video of Pope Francis’ Pentecost homily to the lay movements and associations in the church. In the ensuing discussion, we discerned a call to embark upon a three-year journey into the “New Evangelization.”  As you may remember, we began with a focus on encountering Jesus, both in the Word and in our daily lives; we continued by deepening that relationship through growth in Prayer and by embracing Sacramental Living; finally, in this Jubilee Year of Mercy, we give witness to our faith by living our mission: to live and proclaim God’s mercy in the church and in the world. Jesus, Prayer, Mission: quite the program!  So what’s next?

In today’s Gospel, Jesus asks the disciples two questions.  The first is generic: “who do the crowds say I am?”  Then he makes it personal: “who do YOU say I am?”  The world has all different kinds of opinions about the Catholic Church, about the Christian faith, and even about Jesus.  But who do WE say Jesus is?  Have we met his unconditional love and responded to his invitation to a deep and abiding friendship with him?  Do we make time to meet him in his Word, in prayer, in the sacraments, recognize him at work in the joys and challenges of our daily life? Our witness grows in credibility when we embrace and foster this personal, life-changing encounter with Jesus, when we live it out in our daily lives, when we allow ourselves to be transformed by the Spirit of God at work in us and in the world around us.  It is this theme of what it means to be “transformed in the Spirit” that will guide our adult faith formation and pastoral priorities over the coming year.  

What does a world that has been transformed in the Spirit look like?  In our second reading today, Paul gives us an idea. In a culture and empire where there were so many divisions and social stratifications, Paul proclaims boldly that in Christ, “there is no longer Jew or Greek, slave or free, male or female”, for all are one in Christ.  Every person shares in the same dignity, has the same intrinsic value, and thus is to be loved and respected in the unique identity.

In the light of the horrific shooting at the Pulse Nightclub in Orlando this past week, it was disheartening to see how quickly the politicians and media commentators – mostly from the right, but some from the left as well – looked immediately to score political capital from the tragedy.  They found a scapegoat, someone or some group to blame, treating it simply a “single-issue” problem: whether “radical Islam”, “the gun culture”, “homophobia”, “mental illness”, “angry young men”, “immigrants”. 

If our vision were truly transformed by the Spirit, we would be applying such gifts of the Holy spirit as wisdom, right judgment, and courage: seeking to understand the complex constellation of individual and social breakdowns that led to this bloodbath, and looking for real and lasting solutions that will address the root causes of these violent outbursts, and limit the death and destruction without turning entire groups of people into scapegoats and targets of suspicion.  At the same time, the fruits of the Spirit – love, peace, patience, gentleness, humility and so on – would be manifested in the way we reach out in compassion to the victims of these tragedies and their families, expressing genuine solidarity and support for the people of Orlando as a whole, but especially those who suffered the brunt of this tragedy: mostly young, mostly Latino members of the GLBTQ community.

Yes, there is great suffering in the world!  What will be our response, as Christians, as Catholics?  Immediately after this dialogue about his identity, Jesus informs his disciples of his passion – his future suffering and death on the Cross, and reminds them that if they are to live as his disciples, they too must “deny themselves, take up their cross daily and follow him.”  It would be nice if the life of discipleship was always one of sweetness and light, of consolation in the Holy Spirit, free of problems and pain, struggles and suffering. 

Yet we all know that life is not that way. There are beautiful moments, but also painful ones; and if we spend our entire lives merely trying to avoid the painful bits and pursue the easy ones, we end up living very superficially: we deprive ourselves of important opportunities to grow and develop. “Suffering,” C.S. Lewis famously said, “is God’s megaphone to wake a sleeping world.”  And yet we do not pursue suffering, look for the Cross in some strange, masochistic kind of way; we ask for the courage to “take up our cross daily” as we follow the Lord, knowing he is also the one who says: “come unto me, all you who are weary and carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.” 

“His yoke is easy”, because he does not leave us to carry the burden alone, and willingly shoulders the burden with us, refusing to abandon us in our hour of need.  For this reason, Paul writes in his letter to the Romans, “bear one another’s burdens willingly, for in so doing, you fulfill the law of love.” 

The Cross comes to all of us, in one way or another. All we can do, in the light of such tragedies as the one in Orlando, or the murder of the pastor and a dozen parishioners at the Emmanuel African Methodist Episcopal church in Charleston SC, which happened a year ago this week, is to express first our solidarity with the victims and those immediately touched by the tragedy.  In the words of Zechariah today, “the spirit of compassion and mourning” must be poured out on us, so that we may express in words and deeds our sorrow and repentance. Then, we must work together, tirelessly and intelligently, to unearth the root causes of this violence, to address the personal and social structures of sin that lead to it, and to act effectively so that the lives of all may be defended, the dignity of all be protected and upheld. 

Jesus derived his identity in large part from the trust and delight he enjoyed from his heavenly Father: “This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.”  As well, Jesus’ experience growing up in the home of Joseph and Mary provided him with a solid model of human fatherhood: Joseph was a “just man”, loving, hardworking, entirely dedicated to guiding and protecting the family entrusted to his care.  Secure in this self-understanding, Jesus was ready to embrace his calling: the mission of being and becoming more fully who God was asking him to be. 

As a society, we celebrate Fathers’ Day this weekend.  In his best-seller “Absent Fathers, Lost Sons”, Jungian analyst Guy Corneau comments on one of the great tragedies of modernity: the crisis of identity around fatherhood, the consequent diminishment of the role of fathers in the family, and the disturbing impact of increasing numbers of children growing up without any meaningful fatherly presence.  More than ever, he argues, our families need the real presence of loving fathers: strong and tender, courageous and vulnerable, engaged in the outside world and committed to their home and family. It is a difficult balance to maintain, yet all kinds of empirical evidence suggests that for both girls and boys, the presence of a strong and loving father makes a huge difference.

At World Youth Day 2000, St. John Paul II spoke to a crowd of over one million young people. In his role as spiritual father, the Pope invited young Catholics from all parts of the world to open their hearts to that vital question posed by Jesus to his disciples: "Who do you say that I am?"  

"What is the meaning of this dialogue? Why does Jesus want to know what people think about him? Why does he want to know what his disciples think about him? Jesus wants his disciples to become aware of what is hidden in their own minds and hearts and to give voice to their conviction.  He knows that the judgment they will express will reveal what God has poured into their hearts by the grace of faith, the response of the rational and free human person to the word of the living God. (…) It is Jesus whom you seek when you dream of happiness.  He is waiting for you when nothing else you find satisfies you; he is the beauty to which you are so attracted; it is he who provokes you with that thirst for fullness that will not let you settle for compromise; it is he who urges you to shed the masks of a false life; it is he who reads in your hearts your most genuine choices. It is Jesus who stirs in you the desire to do something great with your lives, the will to follow an ideal, the refusal to allow yourselves to be grounded down by mediocrity, the courage to commit yourselves humbly and patiently to improving yourselves and society, making the world more human and fraternal."

We are grateful today for all fathers, whether biological or spiritual, And for grandfathers, uncles, teachers, coaches, surrogate fathers – who, often at great personal cost, have invested yourselves so generously in this immense, oft-maligned, and unrecognized service to your families and to the world.  We bless you on your special day and encourage you to persevere in your unique and irreplaceable vocation.

Finally, today we also celebrate you, the many volunteers of St. Monica’s Parish.  Throughout the year, you generously share of your time and talent, helping to make St. Monica’s the vibrant, welcoming faith community that it is.  St. Paul reminds us that there are indeed many gifts, but there is one guiding and animating Spirit.  So whether you serve St. Monica’s through gifts of liturgy and music, in catechesis or adult faith formation, in various forms of social outreach, in pastoral home care, on the baptismal team, at the food pantry, in the youth group, as members of the pastoral council or wardens, whether you wash altar linens every week, or stack tables and chairs, or bake cookies and wash dishes, or help out at the annual parish clean-up day (as many did today), this invitation and celebration is for all of you! 

We thank you for your generosity, and for your willingness to be a reflection of the light of Christ, a candle burning brightly in our parish community, a light to be shared with the world. As a community transformed by the Spirit, let us celebrate the diverse gifts of the Spirit present through our many volunteers. Thank you, and God bless you!