Archived Homilies

Previous homilies from Deacon Richard Budgen:

THE HOLY FAMILY [A]

Ecclesiasticus 3: 2 – 6, 12 – 14       Colossians 3: 12 – 21           Matthew 2: 13 – 15, 19 – 23
In 1850, John Everett Millais, the Victorian Pre-Raphaelite artist, painted a picture called: “Christ In The House Of His Parents.”
When the picture was first exhibited in the Royal Academy, these words from the Prophet Zechariah accompanied it: “If someone asks, ‘What are these wounds on your body?’ they will answer, ‘The wounds I was given at the house of my friends.’” Zech. 13: 6
Those words of Zechariah speak prophetically of Christ’s Crucifixion.
Jesus who, as John says at the beginning of his Gospel: “Came into the very world he created, but the world didn’t recognise him. He came to his own people, and even they rejected him.”
Jn. 1: 10 – 11  
The painting shows Jesus, as an ordinary boy, in Joseph’s carpenters shop, and Jesus has cut His finger.
The blood from the cut on his finger is dripping onto His foot, and His mother is comforting Him.
It was so different from other paintings of Christ that Millais was viciously attacked by the press for showing the Holy Family as ‘ordinary’.
Even the author, Charles Dickens, described Christ in the painting as ‘a hideous, wry-necked, blubbering, red-haired boy in a night-gown.’
The paintings very realism challenged the popular notion that Jesus should be regarded as somehow other-worldly, and semi-detached from the realities of life.
This, of course, meant that people could call themselves Christian, whilst perpetuating the inequalities that were rife in Victorian society.
And this mind-set is echoed in a verse – no longer sung these days for very good reasons - of that well-known Victorian hymn, All Things Bright And Beautiful: “The rich man in his castle, the poor man at his gate, he made them, high or lowly, and ordered their estate.” Cecil Frances Alexander 
The artist, by placing Jesus in Joseph’s carpentry shop, working with wood, and having spilt His blood in doing so, with it dripping from His hand onto His foot, was saying that how Jesus grew up prepared Him for the shedding of His blood for us on the wood of the Cross.
The Feast of The Holy Family is put here, right after Christmas, to reinforce once more the Christmas message that Jesus is a real person.
How often have you heard it said, or said it yourself, that someone really takes after their Mum and Dad? Quite often, I guess.
So if we’re to take seriously our fundamental belief that the Word became flesh – became a human being – born at a particular time, in a particular place, into a particular human family; then I believe it follows that Jesus would have taken after His human parents.
St. Paul, in his Letter to the Colossians, tells us: “To be clothed in compassion, in generosity and humility, gentleness and patience. [And] over all these clothes, put on love, the perfect bond.” Col.3: 12,14
He tells us to do this so that we can begin to take on the features of Jesus, because those are the qualities He displayed in His life.
And where did Jesus learn to be compassionate, generous, humble, gentle, patient and loving?
In His family: in His family, where He lived in the loving bond between Mary, His mother, and Joseph, His adoptive father.
I have a beautiful Austrian wood carving at home of the Holy Family.
As I was thinking about this sermon I looked at it to give me inspiration, and the way the figures are composed reminded me of the communion of love that exists in the Holy Trinity.
The Holy Family are there to draw us into the life of God because Jesus, the Word made flesh, is its very heartbeat.
We can see in Matthew’s account of the birth and infancy of Jesus, the kind of man Joseph was.
Similarly, in Luke’s account we can see Mary’s character brought into focus, and begin to appreciate the influence these two people must have had on Jesus.
In the Gospel today Joseph is shown as a man who sought out, and listened to, the Lord’s will for the Holy Family.
He takes Jesus and Mary out of danger in Israel into the safety of Egypt, and only returns when it’s safe to do so.
Matthew says that this fulfils the Old Testament prophecy of Hosea: “Out of Egypt I have called my son.” Hos.11: 1
He does this to show the parallel between the Holy Family’s flight into Egypt, and Israel’s history.
When Israel was an infant nation it went into Egypt, as Jesus did as a child.
Later, God through Moses, led Israel out of Egypt; as the Lord called Jesus and His family back to Israel from Egypt.
‘Out of Egypt I have called my son:’ the Lord working out our salvation in all of these events.
And Jesus lived out those hidden years of His childhood, and early manhood in Nazareth, where, as Scripture says: “He increased in wisdom and in years, and in favour with God and with people.” Lk.2: 52
Now, what can we learn from those hidden years of the Holy Family?
Well, they’re not a ‘normal’ family, in the sense that no other family has had the Word made flesh as part of it.
But, both Mary and Joseph had Jesus as the centre of their lives, which is what we must all strive to do.
Whether we’re married, single, widowed, childless, young or old; we belong to the family of the Church – the Body of Christ – which has Jesus at its very heart.
And so, in the ‘Holy Family’ of the Church, we can look to that other Holy Family to teach us to: “Let the peace that comes from Christ rule in [our] hearts. For as members of one body [we] are called to live in peace. [And] let the message about Christ, in all its richness, fill [our] lives.
[So that] we [can give praise] to God with gratitude in [our] hearts.” Col.3: 15-16                

CHRISTMAS MIDNIGHT MASS 2010

Isaiah 9: 1 - 7                                     Titus 2: 11 - 14                                  Luke 2: 1 – 14
Just before Christmas I was listening to the Chris Evans Breakfast Show on Radio 2 as I was driving into Oxford, and my attention was caught when he  played a recording by Simon & Garfunkel made in 1966 called ‘7 O’Clock News/Silent Night.’
The track consists of Simon & Garfunkel singing ‘Silent Night,’ just accompanied by a piano, and it’s overdubbed by a "7 O'Clock News" bulletin of the actual events of 3 August 1966 when the Vietnam War was at its most brutal.
And, as the track progresses, the song becomes fainter, and the news report louder.
It chronicles the conflicts, violence, and injustices that occurred that day.
The effect is positively chilling; and it’s a grim, and ironic comment on the state of the world on that day in 1966.
It could have been any day in the history of the world, because there never seems to have been a time that’s experienced: “A peace that has no end.”  Is. 9: 7
It could have been the day that Jesus was born, as the time He was born into was no different to any other.
He, and his family lived in a country occupied by the forces of the Roman Empire.
The Emperor Caesar Augustus in Rome issued an order that a census of the Roman Empire had to be taken, which meant everyone had to go back to their family town to be registered.
There were no extenuating circumstances, no excuses; everyone had to go.
So, when she was in the ninth month of her pregnancy, Mary and Joseph had to travel from Nazareth to Bethlehem, a distance of 80 miles.
Easy today in a car; but not on foot, and donkey for a heavily pregnant woman.
And, after that exhausting journey, when they reach Bethlehem, Mary goes into labour.
But it’s so full of people that they can’t find anywhere to stay; so they have to bed down in cattle shed where the Son of God is born, and placed in a manger – a livestock feed trough.
God the Son became a tiny, helpless a baby.
But, above all, He experienced love from His parents Mary and Joseph; their love enfolding Him like a protecting veil.
I think, beyond the relentless quest to buy presents, food, and drink, everyone is searching for something true, beautiful, and everlasting in their lives.
But don't we all get caught up in the rat-race, which is the secular Christmas?
Don’t get me wrong; there's absolutely nothing wrong with having a good time, and giving presents at Christmas.
But if all it amounts to is a hangover and an empty heart on Boxing Day, then where's the good news in that?
“Do not be afraid; for see – I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, who is the Messiah, the Lord.” Lk. 2: 10 – 11
The baby who turns upside down the notion of God as all-powerful, in need of nobody else, and totally self-sufficient.
The God who loves us so much that He: “He gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.” Jn. 3: 16
It’s a great Christmas tradition, even today – especially in the Chapel of King’s College, Cambridge – to have a Service of Nine Lessons and Carols.
The ‘Lessons,’ of course, are readings from the Bible – the Scriptures - about the coming Saviour.
Pope Benedict, at the beginning of this Advent, urged us to prepare for the birth of Christ by listening to the voice of God, which he said: “Resounds in the desert of the world through the sacred Scriptures.” Pope Benedict XVI: Angelus Address 5 December 2010
And, if we do that, then the Lord will speak to us through His Word, and recreate us into the people He intended us to be from all eternity.
When, as the Psalm says: “You created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb.” Psalm 139: 13  
And, just as He promises in that book, The Bible: “I will give you a new heart, and I will put a new spirit in you. I will take out your stony, stubborn heart and give you a tender, responsive heart.” Ezekiel 36: 26   
If we dare to open the pages of Scripture with a tender, and responsive heart, then the Christmas story will take flesh for us instead of being just a plaster tableau in a crib.
Of course, for many people, the Christmas story, represented in this crib, is just a story for children that we grow out of.
Many of us still look at the crib with the eyes of a child when we're adults, and so rob Christmas of its truth.
Though, if we take time to reflect on the crib properly, we’ll come to see that the birth of Jesus isn't a religious fairy story, but earthed in the real world in which we live.
And to do that let’s place ourselves with the shepherds watching their flocks by night on the hills outside Bethlehem.
In their visit, the future suffering of the Christ is foreshadowed because they’re the herdsmen of the sheep and lambs that were sacrificed in the Jerusalem Temple day after day in a vain attempt to wash away people's sin by the shedding of their blood.
Here, in the manger is Jesus, the One and Only Lamb of God: “Who takes away the sin of the world!” Jn. 1: 29
A prophetic reminder that at the end of His life on earth, when He’s lifted up from the earth on the Cross, His life will be as He was at its beginning: vulnerable, and in the hands of humanity.                                                 
At that moment in time, finding the Christ-child in the manger: “Only in their hearts will the shepherds be able to see that this baby fulfils the promise of the prophet Isaiah: ‘For a child has been born for us, a son given to us; [and] authority rests upon his shoulders.’ Is 9:6                                                                                             Exactly the same sign has been given to us. We too are invited by the angel of God, through the message of the Gospel, to set out in our hearts to see the child lying in the manger.                                                                 
God’s sign is simplicity. God’s sign is the baby. God’s sign is that He makes Himself small for us. This is how He reigns.                                               
He doesn’t come with power and outward splendour. He comes as a baby; defenceless, and in need of our help.
He doesn’t want to overwhelm us with his strength. He takes away our fear of his greatness. He asks for our love: so He makes Himself a child.                                                                
He wants nothing other from us than our love, through which we spontaneously learn to enter into His feelings, His thoughts, and His will.
[Through which] we learn to live with Him and to practice with Him that humility of renunciation that belongs to the very essence of love.                                                                             
God made Himself small so that we could understand Him, welcome Him, and love Him.”
Pope Benedict XVI: Christmas Mass of Midnight 2006 paraphrase
Jesus came, and hid His glory as a helpless baby; and hides His glory again under the appearance of bread and wine in the Eucharist.
Now, with Mary, the Mother of the Lord – and the shepherds - let us treasure up all these things and ponder them in our hearts. See Lk. 2: 19
 
Until tonight I could not fit the size of God into my head.
I thought he was a God for prophets and kings, men of words and wisdom.
But tonight I am looking at God made small, small enough for me, small enough to pick up and hold like a lamb.
I could not talk to a God in the clouds; but tonight when I look and smile
and talk nonsense to this tiny thing, I know that I am talking to God.
And it is God who smiles back at me and waves his perfect hands in delight.
And tonight in your smallness, God, you seem bigger and more powerful
to me than you ever did before.
I can hold you now, hold you in my head and hold you in my arms, and know that you are holding me in yours.
© Lisa Debney: ‘Shepherd’ in ‘Hay And Stardust;’ Wild Goose Publications  
 
 

FOURTH SUNDAY OF ADVENT [A]

Isaiah 7: 10 – 14                           Romans 1: 1 – 7                                 Matthew 1: 18 – 24
King Ahaz, God’s anointed King of Israel, was a very nasty piece of work.
Not the sort of person you’d want to meet in a dark night in an alley as you probably wouldn’t come out in one piece.
Ahaz gave his life up to wickedness, and turned his back on the One True God by setting up a pagan altar in the Temple – God’s House – in Jerusalem.
But, his worst action, on a human level, was to sacrifice his son to a pagan god.
The Kings of Israel were supposed to be set apart, through their anointing, as the image and representative of God to His people.
Yet so many of them were corrupt, wicked, and lusted after power, just like King Ahaz.
It was the job of the prophets like Hosea, Micah, and Isaiah to call them back to God’s ways; and these three were all involved in speaking God’s word of judgement to Ahaz.
Time after time he ignored them completely.
The context of the first reading today is that Isaiah is doing just that.
He’s just said to Ahaz: “If you do not stand firm in your faith, you will not stand at all.” Is. 7: 9
Without God you’re nothing, and all you touch will turn to dust.
Then we take the story up in our passage where the Lord God, through Isaiah, offers to give Ahaz a sign that He is the Lord of heaven and earth, and will watch over Ahaz and Israel if the King is faithful to Him.
But Ahaz, with contempt in his voice, says: “I will not ask, I will not put the Lord to the test.”
 Is. 7: 12
Not because Ahaz is a humble man who wouldn’t presume to ask God to prove that He is the Lord.
No: Ahaz is a man who has no time for God, and wants to have the power of God for himself.
He’s torn God out of the sanctuary of his heart, and put himself there instead.
Then the Lord, through Isaiah, gives him a very strange message.
The Lord God will give him a sign anyway, and it will be this: “The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and will call him Immanuel [God is with us]. Is. 7: 14
This helpless baby will know, unlike Ahaz: “To reject the wrong and choose the right.” Is. 7: 15 
In a mysterious way this baby – this son – embodies the true attributes of the King of Israel.
Although Ahaz was filled with the Spirit of God when he was anointed King, he obstinately opposed and rejected the Spirit of God for a spirit of evil instead.
But this baby will be a ‘sign of contradiction’ to King Ahaz because in that baby boy dwells the Spirit of God in all its fullness.
Isaiah’s prophecy has a direct meaning for Ahaz.
In spite of the Lord’s offer of a miracle to verify the prophecy, and aid Ahaz's faith, Ahaz wouldn't trust the Lord.
He plundered the Lord’s temple to send a payment to the King of Assyria to rescue him from his enemies.
Ahaz was rescued by Assyria, but at a great cost: He became a vassal to Assyria.
The baby was a constant ‘sign of contradiction’ to Ahaz that he should have trusted in the Spirit of God to guide and protect him.
But, of course, for Christians, Isaiah’s prophecy has another layer of meaning.
It points towards the coming of another baby, born of a Virgin, who is Immanuel – God is with us.
It points towards Jesus. It’s a sign to us of God breaking into His world in a completely unique, and unexpected way.
Just as the angels promised to the shepherds on the hills outside Bethlehem: “Today in the town of David a Saviour has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.” Lk. 2: 11 - 12
Forty days after his birth Jesus is taken to the Temple, His Father’s House,  by Mary and Joseph to be presented, and dedicated to God for His service.
There they meet the old man Simeon who was filled with the Holy Spirit, and he immediately recognised that this little baby is the long –awaited salvation promised by God.
Not just for his Chosen People, the Jews, but for the Gentiles too – He is everyone’s Saviour.
“Then Simeon* blessed them and said to his mother Mary, ‘This child is destined for the falling and the rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be opposed so that the inner thoughts of many will be revealed.’” Lk. 2: 33 – 35
Jesus will be a ‘sign of contradiction’ to the world, and He will be opposed by all those powers in the world that try to put themselves in God’s place.
And, of course, that ultimate opposition will come on the Cross where the powers of darkness seek to snuff out God in Christ so that they can rule in the hearts and minds of men and women.
But how does this affect me in my own life in 2010?
I’m not like King Ahaz, or those who sent Jesus to the Cross; but don’t  I, often in small, seemingly insignificant ways, try to put something other than the Lord in the sanctuary of my heart?
The Blessed John Henry Newman was a man of towering intellect, and a keen academic mind.
This could have puffed him up with pride, believing that it was all his own doing; and he could have had a glittering career at Oxford University had he not followed his heart’s desire to serve the Lord.
Yet when he was made a Cardinal he took as his motto ‘Heart speaks unto heart.’
This was the secret to living his life in the manner in which His Lord wanted him to live it.
It might sound easy enough, but it’s hard.
Hard, because all of us would rather not hear the beating of the Lord’s heart. We’d rather hear just our own.
In so many small ways all of us dethrone the Lord from our hearts - I know that I do - and when we do our lives start to go awry.
In small ways at first, but then as life unfolds we can become coarsened and hard-hearted in our dealings with each other.
But worse than that, Jesus no longer figures in the equation.
He’s no longer Immanuel – God is with us – He’s God so distant from us.
Christmas is just round the corner: so let’s make ourselves small, and child-like again so that we can enter into the stable at Bethlehem.
There we’ll meet anew the baby who is Immanuel – God is with us – and, by letting His heart speak unto our hearts, He will be enthroned in the sanctuary of our hearts once more. 
 
 
 

THIRTY-SECOND SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME [C]

2 Maccabees 7: 1 – 2, 9 – 14                2 Thessalonians 2: 16 – 3: 5            Luke 20: 27 – 38
“Marriage is for people here on earth. But in the age to come, those worthy of being raised from the dead will neither marry nor be given in marriage. And they will never die again.”
Lk. 20: 34 – 36
 A verse like that, taken at face value, could be understood to put marriage on a lower level than celibacy for the sake of the Kingdom of God.
No doubt there are some who would make that interpretation of today’s Gospel, but I think they’re misguided.
Jesus isn’t talking about the merits of celibacy over marriage.
He’s actually making a fundamental point about the resurrection from the dead.
The first reading is barbaric; and my inclination is to switch off when I hear of these brothers being tortured and ripped apart.
But it’s actually about the resurrection from the dead.
In fact, it’s really a key text in the Old Testament, which speaks specifically about those who are faithful to the Lord in this life, being raised to new life by Him, and with Him, when they die.
Just as the second brother says to his torturers: “You may discharge us from this present life, but the King of the world will raise us up to live again for ever.” 2 Macc. 7: 9
That’s the link between it, and today’s Gospel.
In the Gospel we meet the Sadducees who didn’t believe in any sort of life after death, except that one went down into Sheol.
A shadowland. A place of non-existence. A place of darkness to which all the dead go, and where the life and light of God doesn’t penetrate.
The Sadducees believed that the only form of immortality anyone could know was in the family line being maintained through having children.
So that’s why the Sadducees put to Jesus this convoluted scenario of seven brothers marrying the same woman.
Each one dies; and the survivors in turn marry the widow so that their family line can be carried on.
But at the end of the line the woman dies, having borne none of them any children.
So, to the Sadducees way of thinking, these men are obliterated. Their name won’t live for ever in the sight of the Lord.
Of course it was a hypothetical question to try to trick Jesus into either agreeing with them that the resurrection was nonsense; or to side with the Pharisees who believed in some sort of resurrection.
The Sadducees, and the Pharisees were vying for power in the religious, and political life in Israel at that time.
If one side could claim a victory over the other by exposing Jesus as a fake or a sham Saviour, then it would give them even more power.
But Jesus doesn’t fall into that trap. Instead, He takes them right back to their origins; to Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and Moses.
He begins by saying: “In the account of the bush, even Moses showed that the dead rise.”
Lk. 20: 37
That manifestation Moses had of the Living God at the burning bush in the desert where God revealed His personal name to Moses.
And in that encounter the Lord says; “I am the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac and the God of Jacob.” Ex. 3: 6
These people had died hundreds of years before, yet the Lord refers to them as if they’re still alive, and with Him at that very moment.
And, of course, they are; because they died in the Lord’s friendship, and Jesus points to this in His reply to the Sadducees where He says: “He is not the God of the dead, but of the living.”
Lk. 20: 38
So Jesus takes the Sadducees back beyond their human notions of immortality to the truth found in Scripture at that most important moment in Israel’s history.
The burning bush is the moment when God reveals Himself in glory to Moses, and lets Him call Him by name.
He asks Moses to be His friend, to speak in His name, and to lead His people out of slavery in Egypt into the freedom of the Promised Land.
At that moment, time stood still because Moses could have said ‘no’ to this calling from the Lord; but he says ‘yes’ to doing the Lord’s will.
Just as Mary said ‘yes’ to the Angel of the Lord when he invited her to bring the Saviour into the world.
The fundamental point Jesus is making is that the resurrection life beyond our death won’t be the same as this one.
Death will have been defeated: so the need, as the Sadducees see it, to continue the family line will be irrelevant.
He doesn’t mean that we’ll be raised, and float around as spirits.
What Jesus is saying emphatically is that, like His resurrection, when we’re raised from the dead, we will be raised body and spirit.
Yes, our resurrection bodies will be quite unlike our present ones; yet, at the same time, recognisable as us; just as the Lord was when He rose from the dead.
To God, our bodies really matter.
But they’ll be appropriate for the new world of eternal life.
The new world in which death has been defeated, and no longer has any hold over us.
But, for the time being we live in this world; yet we know in our hearts that it’s not the be all and end all.
We know that we’re created for eternal life with the Lord; so we have that tension within us of being at home in this world, but wanting to be with the Lord.
Rather like one of those agonising dreams where you try to run, but you can’t because your legs are like lead.
Imagine the sense of release and freedom if the dream were to change, and you could run like an athlete!
It might seem like that to us in our Christian lives; that we’re being bound by invisible cords, which prevent us from getting closer to the Lord.
In a sense that’s true; because if we do desire to have a close walk with Jesus then the powers of darkness will try to prevent it happening.
So what will break these invisible chains, set us free, and defeat the powers of darkness?
The answer is simple, and yet profound at the same time.
The answer is prayer.
Not merely words; but the sort of prayer that the Lord inspires by His Spirit, and attends to in His love.
In other words; true prayer has its roots in the Lord, and its growth is nurtured by His love.
So let’s pray for each other – using Paul’s words in the second reading - that, if we feel like the person in the dream whose legs were like lead, we’ll experience the exhilaration of being released by the Lord to love Him as He first loved us.
“Now may our Lord Jesus Christ himself and God our Father, who loved us and by his grace gave us eternal comfort and a wonderful hope, comfort you and strengthen you in every good thing you do and say. [And] May the Lord lead your hearts into a full understanding and expression of the love of God and the patient endurance that comes from Christ. [Amen.] 2 Th. 2: 16 - 17 
 

OLOR Harvest Mass 2010

Deuteronomy 8: 7 – 18                1 Corinthians 3: 6 – 10                           Luke 17: 11 – 19
“Beware that in your plenty you do not forget the Lord your God. For when you have become full and prosperous and have built fine homes to live in, when you have seen all your possessions grow great, do not become proud of heart. Do not forget the Lord your God. Never say to yourself,
‘I have achieved this wealth with my own strength and energy.’ Remember the Lord your God.”
Dt. 8: 11 – 14, 17 – 18
My weekly treat is to have a sausage sandwich, and a coffee on Saturday mornings at Sainsbury’s, Heyford Hill, before setting out on the ‘harvest gathering’ of our weekly shop.
We always seem to coincide with three elderly ladies who push their trolleys three abreast at a very stately pace around the store holding everyone up.
When they’re going at a snail’s pace, or running their trolleys into the back of my legs and saying in such a surprised way: ‘Sorry dear, I didn’t see you.’ thanksgiving is not at the forefront of my mind!
Even without the three ladies, it’s very difficult to give thanks to God for the harvest – for all the food and drink that sustains us – in the middle of a very big supermarket.
It must have been so much easier in Old Testament times when most people farmed, fished or were shepherds, so were closer to the land.
But, as those lines I just quoted – and indeed the entire Old Testament illustrates – it’s very clear that the People of God often forgot to thank God;  not just for the harvest, but for everything He did for them.
They wrapped Him up in a neat little parcel of religious practices, marginalised Him, forgot about Him, and kidded themselves that: “I have achieved this wealth by own strength and energy.”
Dt. 8: 17
And the Gospel too paints a stark picture of the lack of thanksgiving on the part of God’s People.
Jesus cured ten lepers, but only one came back to thank Him: and that one was a Samaritan.
Bad enough that he’d been afflicted with leprosy: but, being a Samaritan, to the Jews he was a heretic, an outcast.
Yes, he shows up the nine ex-lepers by praising, and giving thanks to God.
But he not only shows them up; he shows us up too when we fail to, as Paul wrote to the Ephesians: “Give thanks for everything to God the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.” Eph. 5: 20
We know with our heads, at least, if we have any Christian faith at all, that God is the giver of all things: every mouthful of food we take, every breath of air we inhale, every smile, every act of kindness we give, and receive.
But in this age of expecting everything as mine by right, it’s good to name our blessings, and thank the Lord for them.
This is what we’re doing this morning in this Mass of Harvest Thanksgiving.
Did you notice I used the word ‘Mass’ just then? It’s one of those words that trips lightly off the tongues of us Catholics, isn’t it?
In the 2000 year history of the Church, Mass is a relatively new word for what we do when we come here every Sunday.
If you listened carefully to Pope Benedict when he was here in September, every time he spoke of what we call the Mass, he used the word Eucharist.
In fact, he uses it all the time; because Eucharist is the word that the New Testament writers, and particularly Paul, use to describe the Mass.
It comes from a Greek word meaning ‘thanksgiving:’ and the Mass is the great thanksgiving to God the Father for the gift of His Son.
We give Him gifts of bread and wine. He transforms them through the power of the Holy Spirit, and gives them back to us as the Body and Blood of Jesus.
 
 
These words in the First Eucharistic Prayers really sum up for us that holy exchange of gifts: “Almighty God, we pray that your angel may take this sacrifice [our gifts of bread and wine] to your altar in heaven. Then, as we receive from this altar the sacred body and blood of your Son, let us be filled with every grace and blessing.”
At the heart of what it is to be a Catholic Christian is the Eucharist.
People say to me that they don’t come to Mass – to the Eucharist – because it’s the ‘same old, same old’ every week.
Outwardly it may appear to be so: but its core is the living, and Real Presence of the Lord Jesus.
Not only in the Body and Blood of Christ, but also in the living Word of God in Scripture; and in the presence of each one of us gathered here to worship God – Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.
But, to make the Eucharist come alive for ‘me’ in a personal way, and to find true happiness, we must cultivate an intimate friendship with Jesus.
Just as Pope Benedict said, speaking from his own experience, in the sermon with which he inaugurated his Papal ministry in 2005: “There is nothing more beautiful than to be surprised by the Gospel, by the encounter with Christ. There is nothing more beautiful than to know Him and to speak to others of our friendship with Him.” Pope Benedict XVI: Inauguration Homily April 2005
So, if I may just give you a little sound-byte to take away with you this morning; we need an ‘attitude of gratitude’ to permeate our lives so that we’re thanking the Lord for all we are, and all we have.
In our culture we’re constantly being reminded to take care of our bodies.
Absolutely nothing wrong with that; but what about our souls?
We’re told we should eat five different pieces of fruit a day to keep us healthy.
I’d like to tell you about nine different fruits we need to feed upon every day instead.
The fruits of the Holy Spirit.......
For: “The Holy Spirit produces this kind of fruit in our lives: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.”
Gal. 5: 22 – 23
In the second reading Paul is saying that he planted the seed of faith in the hearts of the Christians in Corinth, and he goes on to say: “It’s not important who does the planting, or who does the watering. What’s important is that God makes the seed grow.” 1 Cor. 3: 7
In a particular way it’s mine and Fr Paul’s job to sow the seed, and do the watering to enable the fruits of the Spirit to grow in this community.
Yes, in a particular way: but it’s the job of every Christian to do the same in your own way.
We need to come close to the Lord in the Eucharist, in our prayer – our listening conversation with Him – and in reading and reflecting on the Scripture to cultivate our friendship with Him.
Then that will cause the fruits of the Spirit to blossom and bloom in us as an individual, and as a Christian community.
Who knows where that will lead us: but at least then know one will be able to say that coming together to celebrate the Eucharist will be the ‘same old, same old!’
Let me end by praying for all of us, using the words of St Paul, asking the Lord to bring the fruits of the Spirit to blossom in each of us, and in this Parish and Pastoral area.
“When I think of all this, I fall to my knees and pray to the Father, the Creator of everything in heaven and on earth. I pray that from his glorious, unlimited resources he will empower you with inner strength through his Spirit. Then Christ will make his home in your hearts as you trust in him. Your roots will grow down into God’s love and keep you strong. And may you have the power to understand, as all God’s people should, how wide, how long, how high, and how deep his love is. May you experience the love of Christ, though it is too great to understand fully. Then you will be made complete with all the fullness of life and power that comes from God.
Now all glory to God, who is able, through his mighty power at work within us, to accomplish infinitely more than we might ask or think.” Eph. 3: 14 - 20