It's been a while since my last Gratitude Monday post. This one will be different, it's not a list, although it could be, but it would be an never ending one because that single blessing is the source of so many more. My heart is overflowing with gratitude that God, in his infinite wisdom, chose my husband for me, that he made our paths cross in an unusual way (dear Marianne I hope you did find your way here to read this post!) resulting in Matrimonial Union thirty years ago.
On August 13, 1981 in a little town north of Montreal my husband Michel and I professed our vows during the most beautiful Mass I have ever participated in. It was an intimate ceremony; we always joke that there was almost as many priests on the altar as there was people in the assembly. Only close family members and my dear friend Marianne were present. The Mass was co-celebrated by three holy priests, Don Mercure, our dear Père Valère, and Michel's friend Père Luc who had just been ordained and was celebrating his first wedding. The Mass was chanted in the Benedictine tradition. Michel and I each chanted a reading, mine was from Proverb 31.
This weekend Michel was assisting in all the liturgies and was giving the homily. Saturday night none of the children were assigned to altar serve or usher, which is rather unusual. Michel and I planned on a date after Mass, a quiet evening at our favorite local restaurant. Lydia trimmed my hair, and gave me a manicure. Never did I suspect what was to come! Anyone who knows my dh will understand how surprised I was when at the end of his homily, he turned toward me to addressed me personally, in french, declaring his love from the pulpit! Then the assembly stood up and clapped for us! I wanted to sink right through the pew. But my heart was singing! Thanks be to God!
Michel is a very gifted homelist, I would like to share his homily with you.
Homily for 20th Sunday in Ordinary time 11/08/13 (Mt 13:24-43)
What part of “NO” doesn’t this Canaanite woman understand? Despite being ignored by the Lord, she pursues her entreaties. She hounds the disciples. Exasperated, they ask the Lord to silence her. Jesus tells the woman that he can’t help her “because he was only sent to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” She thinks that’s a lame excuse. She knows, as does Jesus, that there are national differences, religious differences, cultural differences not to mention gender differences between the two of them but she also realizes that only He can affect the cure of her possessed daughter. She now approaches the Lord and does him homage and pleads “Lord, help me.” The Lord speaks plainly to her, using vocabulary and well understood stereotypes of the time. He tells her “It is not right to take the food of the children and throw it to the dogs.” She takes the insult in stride. She turns the other check. She accepts being referred to as a dog. She tells him “Please, Lord, for even the dogs eat the scraps that fall from the table of their masters.” Jesus is disarmed and is won over and gives in to her simple request. What allowed her to endure rejection, insults and self-abasement? A single thing: love. Only love for her daughter will enable her to surmount these obstacles. Her love, faith and persistence pay off. She is doubly blessed by the Lord. First and obviously, she obtains at a distance, the healing she sought for her little girl. The other blessing she receives is that her faith is called “great”. She had to be pleased and vindicated in her efforts. Compare this Canaanite woman’s great faith with Peter’s from last Sunday’s Gospel who is called “ye of little faith” by the same Lord. How would our faith compare to that of Peter or that of the Canaanite woman? Could we still bless the one who insults us and send us trials and difficulties or would we turn our backs on him?
We note that in this Gospel Jesus is at the very edge of national Jewish territory in Tyre and Sidon, right on the Mediterranean coast, in modern day Lebanon near Beirut. Some of you of Lebanese ancestry may be familiar with that area. This encounter with the Syro-Phoenician woman anticipates the Gospel to the Gentiles that will mark much of the ministry of the disciples, and that of Paul to a great extent. But this message of universalism also marks all three of our readings, including our psalm. Through Isaiah, the Lord says “The foreigners who join themselves to the Lord, ministering to him … I will bring to my holy mountain and make joyful in my house of prayer … for my house shall be called a house of prayer for all peoples.” Even as Israel is the chosen people and dear to the Lord, there is a constant call that this divine election is to be broadcast and ultimately shared with all peoples. Certainly the most Jewish of all Jewish Kings, King David, a man after God’s own heart, declares what we have just sung: “O God, let all the nations praise you!” Centuries later, Paul would write to the Romans “Brothers and sisters, I am speaking to you Gentiles. Inasmuch as I am the apostle to the Gentiles, I glory in this ministry to make my race jealous and thus save some of them … for God delivered all to disobedience, that he might have mercy upon all.” We are the children of the Gentiles.
I hope y’all are comfortable because Father asked me to speak for an hour to give our new sound system a good workout…
Last week, the homilies hinted at our real citizenship and our true home. Over the 30 years that we’ve lived here, I’ve been asked my name many, many times. Upon hearing it, a few wide-awake Wilsonians have astutely observed “You ain’t from Wilson County!” Smart aleck that I am, I often answer “You’re right, I’m not, I’m from Nash County.” Then I add that I’m Canadian. My actual legal status is permanent resident alien. And therein lies a profound truth that applies to all of us: I’m not the only resident alien here, legal or not. We are all resident aliens on this earth, but not permanent. Look how long our ancestors lived and how long they’ve been dead. After a season, they departed to our true home, where the family is.
Because of our limitations, we tend to make heaven simply a better version of what we know: a pollution-free, better-paid paradise where there is no illness, no death, free food, free Internet and no taxes! But yet, we cannot circumscribe God within our Western, post-industrial, civilization. God is not American, nor is he Canadian or Mexican for that matter. God is Father, Son and Holy Spirit. God is family and that is where our true home is. That is why the Canaanite woman could see beyond the young Jewish rabbi before her: she knew him for what he is: a member of the family. But there is more than just being one big, happy family. It is not enough to simply claim the inheritance solely because we are children of God by our baptism. Being a Christian and living the Christian ideals is not simply a one-time branding and then it is smooth sailing into a glorious sunset on the horizon of eternity. We are creatures of habit and our habits, good or bad, need constant reinforcement to be sustained or broken. That is why, in part, we have the sacraments. Some sacraments are received a single time and impart an indelible mark: baptism, confirmation and Holy Orders. Other sacraments are meant to be celebrated with great frequency: the Holy Eucharist and the sacrament of Reconciliation. The Body and Blood of our Lord, under the appearances of bread and wine, are real food and real drink, they sustain in us the life of grace, God’s life. The beautiful sacrament of Reconciliation restores in us the life of grace should it be lost.
In the passage read from Romans, Paul gives us a mechanism, a tactic for conversion. He reminds his Roman and Gentile audience that he is Jewish by birth and culture. But he glories in his ministry to the pagans in order to make his race jealous and thus save some of them because the majority of the Jews had not accepted the Messiah and his message of salvation. Our lives as Catholic Christians should be of such luminous and holy joy in the practice of the virtues that those we come into contact with will be jealous of our happiness and wish to embrace the Faith and the promise of salvation that comes with it. We are all expected to be missionaries in a foreign land before we return to our true home.
Thirty years ago today, August 13th 1981 was a Thursday. In a small church on the North Shore of Montreal, a young couple got married. It took 3 priests to marry this couple because they were terribly confused. They thought the order was: be fertile, multiply and marry when the correct order is, of course, marry, be fertile and multiply. They already had two small children by the time they married. After the wedding, the husband told his pretty, frizzy, dark-haired bride, who spoke almost no English “Come to the United States with me, I have a contract that will only last a few months; we can make it our honeymoon. Then we’ll come back and settle down.”
They never went back. The groom eventually became a deacon and the young bride a beloved and wise matriarch of 11 children. And they are still on their honeymoon!
Ma chère épouse,
Qui eut crû il y a 30 ans, qu’aujourd’hui, de la chaire de Pierre, ma chair dirait à ta chère chair un court boniment d’amour et de fidélité déjà accomplis et à venir encore? Qui eut crû? Pour emprunter les mots de Zélie Martin dans ses lettres à Louis Martin, je t’embrasse comme je t’aime…
