State of the Parish Homily – Trinity Sunday 2007
It had been a
long night for the apostles. John’s gospel takes four chapters to
describe this time in a dimly lit room, as Jesus tried to help his
followers understand what was in store for him and them. As they
struggle to make sense of it, all of a sudden, Jesus tells them that
he’s said enough. They can’t handle any more right now, they’ll have
to figure out some of it on their own. But they wouldn’t be alone in
their search for meaning. Jesus and the Father would send their
Spirit, the Spirit of strength and wisdom, the Spirit of hope and
new beginnings, to guide them. At first, they didn’t take him
seriously, fleeing from his call to be community. They hid in upper
rooms and tried to escape to their fishing boats. But he didn’t give
up on them, greeting them through locked doors and sharing breakfast
with them at the seashore.
Gradually, as
the years went by, they began to understand Jesus’ words that night.
It would, indeed, be their common experience of searching for God
that bonded them as a community. They’d turn to God and God would
reach out to them, they’d leap in faith, God would catch them. In a
world filled with shadows and uncertainty, they began to know well
that their three-person God was by their side. All they had to do
was try to remain committed to God by supporting each other and
extending the hand of justice to those in need. These would become
the building blocks of being church, many communities united in
their diversity, responding to the call of God.
When Catholic
Christians came to this land, they brought with them similar
markings of personal faith and communal life. Here, too, as they
searched for God, God reached for them. Here, too, they would be
church, building places to dwell with their God. These were humble
houses of holiness, built through the sweat and sacrifice of common
folk. They built churches for worship, schools to educate their
kids, hospitals to tend to the sick and dying, and shelters to feed
the hungry and care for the poor. These dwelling spots for the Lord
were a reflection of their commitment to God, a God who never left
their side. They showed their love for God, and God blessed them
back. It was a pact of peace and hope that was nurtured by a common
life, a community of prayerful encounters with God in each other.
During the past
year, we as a parish have been dedicated to this quest for deeper
intimacy with God and one another. The Pastoral Council, for
example, has spent time addressing issues of identity within an
atmosphere of shared wisdom and mutual dialogue. Questions of who we
are and how we serve are considered in order to come to a better
understanding of the new things God may have in store for us. It’s
become clear that some of the qualities of the past will continue.
We’ll still strive for creative, Spirit-filled liturgies, as a sense
of welcome and hospitality greets all who join us. Our community
will also continue to be a springboard for works of gospel service,
as we reach out to others searching for hope in the darkness. In
addition, we’ll foster a balanced approach to being parish, one that
equally emphasizes the upkeep of our parish plant, the growing of
existing and new ministries, and ongoing deeds of justice and
evangelizing outreach. This can happen if we join together in
dedicated ownership of our parish, week in and week
out, whether we’re present at weekend worship or away enjoying times
of R & R. This is how
we’ll be able to exercise prudent fiscal management, address needed
projects like our recent $60K paving project, and continue to share
a generous portion of our communal treasure with those in need.
I
remember my father telling me about how his parents had modeled this
commitment to supporting their parish when he was young in Northern
Maine in the 1940s. My dad was one of eight children and he still
recalls how each week, when my grandfather came home with his modest
paycheck, he’d give it to my grandmother to pay the bills. The
first thing she did was set aside a quarter for each of the kids and
a dollar for she and my grandfather to give to their church that
weekend at mass. Four dollars from a family that made forty dollars
a week; four dollars given first to God and their parish in
gratitude for their blessings. And even in recent years, my
grandmother still practiced this commitment. Before she would go to
Florida for several months in the winter, she would cut weekly
checks to send to her parish because she knew that even when she was
away, the work of her parish continued. A lesson in stewardship
that still inspires me to this day.
We as a community have
much to be grateful for in our lives. In the midst of our joys and
struggles, as we search for wisdom and guidance from our God, the
age-old promise made by Christ that night in the dimly lit room
continues – if we leap toward God in faith, God will reach out to us
in love. In the months ahead, we’ll continue to grow as faithful
disciples, serving others in the Lord’s name and building up this
community where we dwell with our God. For in the end, it’s
our parish home,
our
ministries, our families that need to be supported and
our sisters and
brothers who yearn for sustenance and a chance to know our God, the
Lord who reaches out to us with great love, guiding and calling us
to the quiet so that he can delight in each of us.
Fr.
Stu
TOP OF
PAGE
|
