As promised, I offer my thoughts this Christmas as well as those of Pope Benedict XVI which I think to be one of the shortest, clearest and most readily embraceable summary of the importance of this day I have either read or heard in a long time.

CHRISTMAS 2010 - Midnight Mass at the Cathedral of St. Jude the Apostle - Most Reverend Robert N. Lynch, Bishop of St. Petersburg

Earlier this week, Pope Benedict XVI taped a message to the people of the United Kingdom, which was broadcast today on the BBC. I can’t remember a time in my soon to-be fifteen years as a bishop ever quoting either Pope John Paul II or Pope Benedict at length in a homily I have delivered, but I am so taken by the Holy Father’s summary of the Christmas event, that I wish to begin with his own words and then will add a few more of my own.

Our thoughts turn back to a moment in history when God’s chosen people, the children of Israel, were living in intense expectation.

They were waiting for the Messiah that God had promised to send and they pictured him as a great leader who would rescue them from foreign domination and restore their freedom.

God is always faithful to his promises, but he often surprises us in the way he fulfills them.

The child that was born in Bethlehem did indeed bring liberation, not only for the people of that time and place – he was to be the Savior of all people throughout the world and throughout history.

And it was not a political liberation that he brought, achieved through military means; rather, Christ destroyed death forever and restored life by means of his shameful death on the Cross.

And while he was born in poverty and obscurity, far from the centres of earthly power, he was none other than the Son of God.

Out of love for us, he took upon himself the human condition, our fragility, our vulnerability and he opened up for us the path that leads to the fullness of life to a share in the life of God himself.

As we ponder this great mystery in our hearts this Christmas, let us give thanks to God for his goodness to us and let us joyfully proclaim to those around us the good news that God offers us freedom from whatever weighs us down; he gives us hope, he brings us to life.

Those are the words of the Holy Father to the people of Great Britain. I believe they so beautifully encapsulate the awesome mystery of the great feast we tonight recall that in the fullness of time, these words alone might rank with the Christmas sermons of Pope Leo the Great whose thoughts on the birth of Jesus have set the bar so high for preachers throughout the ages.

I am always amazed at the unpredictability of the Christmas event. Who were the first to learn of it? The Sadducees, the Sanhedrin, the Pharisees, the Rabbis of Israel – those men of faith, importance and position in the Jewish religion. No way, “now there were shepherds in that region living in the fields and keeping night watch over their flock. The angel of the Lord appeared to them and the glory of the Lord shone around them. . . .” The first recipients of the news of Christ’s birth were not even believers but non-religious Bedouins. They were not on anyone’s “watch list” nor were they watching and waiting for a coming Messiah. They were, quite simply minding their own business. Go find this child, the angel said. To the most unlikely of that time and place the news was broken and they left everything they owned to do as the angel directed. They took a risk to see Jesus.

Others would soon take a risk to see Jesus. None of the others recorded in the Gospels were of the Jewish faith or tradition: the Magi or Wise Men, for example. And what drove them to come and see: In Him we see the God made visible and so are caught up in the love of God we cannot see.” [Preface of Christmas I]. They came to see God in the person of a totally innocent newborn child and to place all their hope and all their trust in Him.

On this Christmas night, 2010, there is admittedly a lot of darkness: economic uncertainty, homes “underwater” or repossessed, high levels of unemployment, fear of a destructive strike by enemies of our nation and way of life, challenging access to good health care. But we pause tonight, because there is a ray of light, a ray of hope, a light penetrating the darkness seen first by those who were not believers and then seen and embraced by those who had been watching and waiting. In the Christ child God indeed offers us freedom, God indeed gives us hope, God indeed brings us to life. The innocent child matures to become the face of God to the weary, downtrodden, ill, blind, lame, uncertain and too certain. And our task is to be the face of Christ to those in our time and our place who need God, who need hope, who need the promise of life. Only then can we truly mean what we just sang: Glory to God in the Highest, and peace to His people on earth.

Merry Christmas, dear friends, and peace to you all.

+RNL

Three major players in salvation history showed up this week-end in the Liturgy of the Word and I would like to share with you some personal reflections on them and perhaps apply what is learned from them to the lives we try so hard to live. Isaiah, the great prophet of Advent is heard from again (as he will be at the Mass of Midnight when he foretells that “the people who walk in darkness have seen a great light.”) Continuing to spread his message of hope and realistic expectations, he introduces us this week-end to a leader of the tribe of Judah, Ahaz by name. The first reading from the Mass tells us of the Lord’s attempt to get Ahaz to ask for a sign, any sign from the Lord, His God. Ahaz declines the Lord’s generous offer and one might think this was done out of humility, fear, uncertainty, whatever. In fact, Ahaz, does indeed want something – military help in staving off an invasion of the tribes of Israel and Syria. His mind is far from reflecting on what he might ask of God short of more munitions, warriors, etc. So, the offer spurned by Ahaz, is given to him anyway – a baby! Can anyone think of anything or anyone less powerful than a baby? Innocence, yes, but how is one to stave off one’s enemies by the birth of a child, especially one whose name will be “God With Us” or Emmanuel. Judah remains vulnerable but, ahem, Ahaz is told that the sign he so desperately seeks and wants will be a child.

The Gospel introduces us to Joseph, foster-father of the Lord, husband to Mary, chosen by God for a special purpose since he was of the Davidic line. Ahaz is one up on Joseph because at least he says something in Scripture. Search hard as you will, you can not find one word uttered by Joseph. In fact, he appears as a silent player in only two chapters of Matthew’s Gospel and then recedes into the wings of salvation history. Joseph like Ahaz has a real and immediate problem. The woman to whom he is engaged has told him that she is pregnant and it is certainly not his child but she also tells him of how she came to be aware of the life she was carrying – an angel appeared to her. Wait one second, angels to the rescue part two – Joseph is told not to be afraid but to take Mary sooner rather than later as his wife and the angel denominates that the child’s name will be “Emmanuel” or “God With Us”, what the Lord said to Ahaz long ago. Ah, but Joseph too carries a serious vulnerability. His religion and religious faith allows him only two options, neither particularly attractive: divorce Mary, call off the engagement, shame her since she is with child and will soon be showing, or have her identified as an adulteress and stoned to death. That’s what Joseph’s law required of a just man of faith. But he loves her and even though very vulnerable to public opinion, he decides to do as the angel says and he takes her more quickly as his wife. All of this caused by an as yet unborn child.

All of us feel particularly vulnerable at times, worrying about things which are only known to us, worrying about keeping or getting a job, worrying about our homes which are underwater or too highly leveraged, worried about the influence of secular society on our life and that of our children and those we love. Angels don’t appear to us but the Lord does not abandon us, He speaks to us, encourages us, tell us to hope and wait, never to feel abandoned but forever faithful. And what brings all this reality together for us this week? A baby. Amen.

The creche at Pinellas Hope, complete except waiting for the baby

More to come.

+RNL

Ask almost any priest which Cycle of Sunday readings they like the most, and many if not all of us would likely respond, CYCLE C, the year in which we hear the Gospel of Luke proclaimed almost every week. Matthew would likely wind up in second place and is a very “preachable Gospel”, Mark would come in third, partly because it is so short that there are not enough chapters to fill the thirty or so Sundays and the Church falls back to the hardest Gospel of them all to preach: John. Luke is liked by preachers because there are  a plethora of parables to be found and we all like parables.  Parables give the creative preacher a platform from which to dive into the mysteries of life today. I personally like Luke’s Gospel for that reason but I also like it because it presents us with some of the most interesting characters to be found anywhere in Scripture. Just reviewing the major characters of the last few weeks and the coming Sundays, we find:

These are the kind of Gospel stories that stay with us long after we have left Church on Sunday. In each instance, Jesus teaches us something about what it takes to live the Kingdom of God on earth so that we might some day enjoy the Kingdom of God in eternal life. Each Gospel has one or more central characters who somehow effects what is called a metanoia or life changing moment. They lift up the virtues of love of the lost, insistence and persistence, heaven does not depend on worldly wealth or success, time for gratitude, opening up one’s life in faith to God. These Gospel characters who populate the chapters of Luke leading up to the passion account give hope to the hopeless, confidence to the fearful, welcome to the stranger and disenfranchised, and support for the vulnerable.

Soon Christ the King will be upon us and after the Christmas season we will begin to listen again to the Gospel of Matthew with its great teachings by Jesus. Somewhere along the way I and many others will be saying, please Lord, tell us the story of someone like ourselves whose life was changed by an encounter with your Son, Jesus. In preaching, like on the USA network, characters are always welcome.

+RNL

Sacred Heart Basilica on the Campus of the University of Notre Dame on October 10, 2010

I am celebrating and preaching this morning at the Basilica of the Sacred Heart on the campus of the University of Notre Dame. It is always an awesome privilege for me to be provided this opportunity as the Basilica will be filled to over-flowing and the music is provided by Notre Dame’s awesome Folk Choir under the direction of Steve Warner (we sing his beautiful “Our Father” in many Churches throughout the diocese). The Irish won yesterday but that really is not the reason I am present on campus as soon we will be announcing a new form of partnership in education between our Diocese and this very Catholic University.

In the first reading from 2 Kings today, Naaman finds healing in an alien land and the population allows an alien to come and benefit from a miracle, a grace. I feel that this Old Testament story has relevance to today’s debate in the nation about immigration reform so I wish to share the homily with you here and hope you will read it and reflect on it.

The Liturgy of the Word this morning places us right smack in the face of “outcasts.” Outcasts at the time of the writing and I would suggest outcasts even in our midst today. The Gospel is familiar enough and easy enough, especially for those who attend Mass on Thanksgiving Day when it is always heard. Ten Lepers were cured but only one came back to say “thanks.” It is, hoever,  the first reading this morning which captures my attention: the curing of Naaman, his restoration to wholeness, to relationships and to religious faith.

Naaman was a senior officer, a general in the pagan Syrian army, which had both defeated and devastated the Jews. He suddenly comes down with something which woefully sets him apart – in Scripture it is called “leprosy” but it is somewhat unlikely that it truly was what today we call Hansen’s disease. For in Old Testament times as well as the time of Jesus, almost any disease causing blemish, acne, skin cancer, or any disfigurement, Down’s syndrome or any neuro-muscular disorder such as Parkinson’s disease was thought to be leprosy. Who of us personally has not personally seen a person so poor that their emaciated and weakened presence, their deep-set, recessed eyes and hunger induced bone structure made us look away in horror even at the sight?

So, Naaman, conquering military hero, comes down with something inexplicable and equally inexplicably his friends say to him: you defeated these Jews but they have some kind of cure for what you have, go see their priests. Naaman was not a man with any faith in the God of Abraham, Isaac or Jacob. However, his lot in life has turned for the worst and he is just desperate enough to try anything. He goes to Israel where the prophet Elisha tells him to wash in the River Jordan seven times [think baptism] and he will be cleansed. Naaman thinks the notion stupid but he is desperate. Naaman thinks the River Jordan is a filthy place to take a swim and he would rather take his plunge in a cleaner, safer Syrian River, but he is desperate. Seven times he does what the prophet commands and he is cured. Astounded he pronounces his new faith in the God of Israel and embraces Him. The Jews are in wonderment; this dreadful, despicable and despised man who leveled our homes, our fields, our husbands and sons, unwanted in our land now embraces our God. What gives? And why does God heal this outcast of our society when there are so many of our own in need of His help? In the end they embrace this stranger, set aside their fears, because he has become one with them in faith.

That’s the Old Testament story, worthy on its face of a few moments of quiet reflection, but there is more to God’s word this morning. Who are the Naaman’s in our midst today – scorned, scoffed and often sacrificed on an altar of political expediency? What are the forms of “leprosy” today, which our moment in history has created to be set apart, feared, and kept always at arm’s length? Make no mistake about it, every generation has its own modern forms of “leprosy”.

Perhaps, immigrants? No sector of American society has handled immigration better than the Catholic Church. This very basilica stands on ground purchased by an immigrant priest who understood a century and a half ago that from the many would come the one, the unity – e pluribus unum. Until 1924 the Catholic Church in the United States was the immigrant Church, all were welcome no matter their language, their country or origin, the color of their skin. In certain segments of society, we Irish, Italian, German, Polish Catholics were not welcomed; rather we were often feared – in eternal life I intend to ask my Boston Irish great-grandparents about their life in the land of the Cabots and Lodges. We were feared, seen as a threat, religious rabbits who given enough time would out-populate everyone else. But our forebearers were told, just like Naaman was told to visit the land of Israel, go to America, a land of opportunity, religious freedom, hope. We Catholics tend to forget our own roots, so fully have we become assimilated into the American culture.

If Naaman the Syrian could be an example of the diversity of God’s people in Old Testament Israel, what then is the reason for the fear and loathing today accorded our mostly Catholic brothers and sisters seeking the same opportunity for freedom and cleansing from economic and sometimes political oppression? Who among us today would encourage an undocumented to go and show themselves to the priests, to the Church, perhaps only there to find sanctuary, hope and help.

Ah, but they are illegal some would say – they are criminals. They are guilty in the law of the same level of misdemeanor as I was yesterday jaywalking across Notre Dame Avenue on my way to the stadium. Crossing a border and entering the United States is, not yet at least, a felony. Perhaps these undocumented are the Naaman’s of our generation, different from him only in that they started their journey, most of them, as our sisters and brothers in faith.

If Israel needed a Naaman to remind it of God’s mercy and generosity, how much more do we need the diversity of the stranger and newcomer? In the diocese in which I am privileged to serve, one third of those who offer the Eucharist this Sunday, priests who preach and preside at Mass, are newcomers, not always sure whether they can remain or not. The central moment of our Catholic faith, the Eucharist, depends more and more in this country on “outsiders”. The football team on the field yesterday in the stadium was a mosaic of diversity – xenophobia today would field few winners in Division I football. This great university has a commitment to diversity and opportunity which makes me proud. The Diocese of St. Petersburg in the winter months likely has more undocumented Catholics than registered Catholics. We depend on them for our food, our creature comforts. Yet we often treat the visitor, the undocumented with fear and loathing and as such the stranger too often today wears the face of political and/or social leprosy. Our country indeed has both a right and responsibility to secure our nation’s borders but our faith must open our hearts to those who today yearn to breathe free and are already in our midst.

In our Church we proudly carry the banner of respect for human life, from conception to natural death. This respect for life is at the heart of who we are and denominates us as Catholic Christians – “catholic” itself means open to all, universal. May we take today as our prayer from this Eucharistic liturgy words something like this:

Allow me, O Lord, to serve as the receiving prophet who welcome the Naaman’s of this time, too often today reviled and scorned as was Your Son. And at the end of the day, may humanity and history say of us as Naaman said, “there is no God greater than the God of Israel.”

"Come to me Everyone"

Mother Teresa of Calcutta

There was a nice convergence this week-end in my life which does not always happen when a bishop flits from one thing to another and then to another. On Saturday at the Bethany Center about 250 people gathered who are involved in the various ministries of mercy in 0ur parishes. We get them together once a year to thank them and to share with them not only our own hopes and aspirations but also some “best practices and programs” which are being utilized throughout the diocese. In two hours, max, they leave with a sense of renewed mission, or so they tell me. We also provide them with a nice free lunch. This year the organizers at Catholic Charities brought a welcome new wrinkle to the day by asking representatives of seven parishes to take about ten minutes and visually and verbally share their particular ministry of mercy.

A project initially begun at St. Stephen’s parish in Valrico and now spreading throughout lower counties of the diocese called San Jose Homemakers Ministry recounted how two women responded to a need to furnish an apartment for a homeless or migrant family and now it has become a major ministry. They have grown from collecting and storing furniture in their home garages to two warehouses (soon) with furniture, dishes and flatwear, etc., which are used when someone moves from homelessness to a stable house and has no money or access for outfitting their new residence. It is an amazing story. Prison Ministry in the diocese was presented by a representative from Prince of Peace parish in Sun City Center where their work at the Women’s Faith Based Correction Prison was outlined in detail. Holy Family parish in St. Petersburg shared their story of twinning with a parish in Haiti, helping that parish before and after the tragic earthquake. Espiritu Santo shared their experience running a Sick and Homebound Luncheon Ministry where elderly an physically challenged parishioners can come for Mass, communal Anointing of the Sick, and a lunch and sense of community. Respite Ministry was presented by a lady from Catholic Charities and we were informed of their experience in providing respite for alzheimers caregivers. Parish Nursing is a program in some of our parishes where a licensed nurse visits the homebound whom the system might ignore and checks on their health. All of these various ministries of mercy form an amazing mosaic of  love, kindness and service. I am always so proud of what is done in the name of Jesus.

Those of you in Church this week-end know that two of the readings (the first and the Gospel) focused on the thematic of humility. Both Sirach and Jesus in his parable in the Gospel make it clear that only after we have imitated his love and concern for our brothers and sisters can we expect a place at the heavenly banquet table. Humility suggests that those who work in the shadows seeking neither fame or acclaim have a better chance in heaven than those who puff themselves up and proclaim, look at me and what I do for others. Sirach suggests that humility is not something one assumes in order to become a “casper-milktoast” but there can be genuine strength in humility. Certainly there is strength of character. Those gathered for the convening of the Ministries of Mercy in the diocese on Saturday were living and breathing examples of holy humility placed at the service of others, sometimes demanding great strength and patience.

Finally, I let last week come and go without mentioning the 100th birthday of Blessed Mother Teresa of Calcutta. What a week to celebrate the centenary of her birth, when the liturgical readings focus on humility. Make no mistake about it and take it from someone who was in her presence four times in my life, she was no push-over! Yet with unrelenting humility she preached, practiced and lived a life of humble service for God and God’s people. She lit up the world in which she lived even if the owners of the Empire State building refused to light up the sky in her memory. A brief but wonderful tribute to Mother Teresa can be found on the “mother of all church blogs”: Whispers in the Loggia.

Finally, I celebrated two Masses in a parish yesterday which was in need of a priest for that purpose. I thought I had “nailed” the readings in my homily. The pastor inquired of me, “what did you preach about” and I responded “humility and boy was I good!” The pastor appropriately suggested that after that comment, I had better continue to meditate on humility in my own life.

+RNL

Here are a few of the thoughts which struck me as I was preparing the homily for yesterday’s [Saturday] ECHO graduation at Notre Dame. I have edited slightly and deleted a large section which probably could not be understood outside of the context in which it was given but perhaps as you returned from Mass this week-end, still wondering about the Gospel, this may or may not help. I hope it will.

When I was studying theology in Boston in the mid-seventies, seminarians then as now were required to do apostolic work of some kind. My assignment was to Boston College where I and about six of my colleagues who on one week with about three hundred undergraduates in a huge lecture hall would listen to the presentation of a Master Teacher on the subject of the Four Gospels. Then the following week, we would break the large group down into small groups and discuss the previous week’s presentation on the Gospel. At the end of each semester, the Master Teacher, who by the way today teaches on this campus, would ask the undergrads this question: Which of the four Gospel writers would you most like to have as your pastor and why?

The result was overwhelmingly in favor of Luke and the reasons were markedly consistent and broken down into three primary reasons for the choice: Luke’s Jesus is more human and focused on doing his father’s will; Luke’s Jesus interacts with women more frequently, sensitively, and occasionally at some cultural and religious risk; and, finally, Luke’s Jesus shows the greatest concern for the poor. Three rather good insights into the Gospel, I thought then and now.

This afternoon we heard Luke at the top of his game. The farmer in the Gospel is not necessarily a bad man. He is rich but there is no sin in that. But in Luke’s Gospel riches can be a barrier to following Jesus (remember the parable of the rich young man?). There are two primary problems, however, with the farmer in the Gospel: admittedly he has all that he or his family will ever need but he suffers from an insatiable appetite for more and second, his rugged individualism has placed him outside of any community and he has little concern for others. To be without a community in the time of Jesus was to be without an identity. You were recognized by which community you were from, Galilee, Samaria, etc.) Consulting no one and with no obvious concern for those who have less, all the rich farmer wants to do is build more barns – not for his family, not for his community but seemingly for his own peace of mind. It might appear to many that this man  has it made.

Jesus on the other hand understands the religious tradition from which he comes. He may or may not have been aware of the teaching from Ecclesiastes in the first reading. Certainly his response indicates as does Qoheleth that the ephemeral is precisely that – it is passing, fleeting, of no eternal value. I once had a married woman tell me of her husband, “Father, my husband brought home without asking a new BMW and he showed it proudly to all our neighbors. He was so happy, until four weeks later BMW introduced an even finer and more expensive version of the same model and then he became depressed.” Ecclesiastes draws our attention from this moment’s accomplishments and directs us towards those things which will last and enrich not only ourselves but our families, our Church, our nation – things that will make for a better world.

St. Paul to the Corinthians begs us to set our sights on higher things. Keeping things in proper perspective is what today’s Liturgy of the Word is all about. It can be a call not only to us as individuals to examine our priorities and values but it can also be a call to communities, local, regional and national, to churches (parishes, diocesan and universal) to see if our sights are clearly set on those things which are not vanity but are from and of God and that hoarding has no place among us, sharing does.

I shall look back tonight and throughout this week on these three readings, reflect on them, apply them.

+RNL

When is the last time you walked into a Church where either a statue, mosaic or picture of Jesus with a whip in his hand, rage written on his face, and on a tear against a group of people could be found? Never in my almost 68 years and I bet you can’t think of such a place either. Yet that is the snapshot of Jesus we are presented in this week-end’s Gospel story. Jesus enters the Temple, finds it overrun with merchants and money changers and in a fit of Gospel pique, drives them out, whip in hand and tongue lashing just as severe. This moment appears in all four Gospels, though in a different chronology in Matthew, Mark and Luke than in John which we hear this week-end. So what has made the Lord so angry? I offer this picture and then a hint of an explanation:

THE GREAT TEMPLE IN JERUSALEM AT THE TIME OF JESUS

First, there was an important and necessary place for merchants and money changers in the general Temple area. If you and your family were making a pilgrimage from Nazareth, let us say, to Jerusalem for Passover and you had some money, you bought a lamb to present to the priests for sacrifice when you got to Jerusalem rather than bringing it along with you on the trip. If you were poor, you bought a dove from the merchants to present to the priests, and didn’t pack it up at home in a cage and walk with it all the way to the Temple Mount. You were also expected to pay for these items in Jewish half shekels but the coin of the realm at the time was the Roman denarius with an image of Caesar and an inscription which declared the emperor to be divine. Your offering could not be made with a blasphemous coin so it was necessary to exchange Greek and Roman coins for Jewish shekels which had no value outside the Temple but were obligatory inside the Temple – thus the money changers.

Initially all this commerce was done on the Mount of Olives from which perspective this picture was taken or in the Kidron Valley outside the Golden Gate (shown in the foreground of the Temple picture) prior to entering the Temple area. Over time, it would seem in the life of Jesus, the merchants and money changers set up shop inside the Temple in the great plaza between the entrance shown on the left of the picture and the Inner Temple and Holy of Holies shown in the center. Although King David’s Great Temple was long destroyed, the great temple of King Herod the Great shown here as it was thought to be at the time of Jesus was built on exactly the same lines. One washed themselves or purified themselves in the Pool of Siloam or the Temple pool, both of which were located outside the Temple itself and to the left but not shown here, entered with one’s animal for sacrifice or one’s offering into the giant plaza as we would call it, approached the priests with the women gathering on the left of the Holy of Holies and the men going around to the right where the priests could be found, and then the High Priest would be given the animals for ritual slaughter inside the Temple itself in the Holy of Holies which is through the giant doors.  The area was as reverential as it could be with huge numbers of pilgrims coming at Passover and reserved for prayer and offerings.

What Jesus found was chaos. Merchants and moneychangers had moved inside between the entrance to the left and the inner Temple and were shouting to gain the attention of the pilgrims looking to purchase a lamb for slaughter or a dove for offering and to exchange their coin offerings for shekels. The Father’s House had become a den of thieves which suggests that the merchants and money changers had probably figured a way to cheat the pilgrims who suddenly found themselves like a returning parent who remembers at the last airport that they haven’t purchased a gift for the spouse and children and into the high priced airport shops they go, trapped by time and need.

So allow me some final thoughts about what all this could possibly mean for our life in faith today? This list is not taxative to be sure:

1. Is the Bingo sign at the parish larger and more legible than the times of Masses sign?

2. Do we enter inside our modern Churches/Temples and pass by tables set up to sell raffle tickets, dance tickets, dinner tickets or is this done appropriately outside?

3. Are we greeted as we enter our modern day Temples or Churches with a quiet welcome or is our attention directed to some other distraction?

Just some thoughts for this Third Sunday of Lent. Have a good week-end all,

+RNL

Tomorrow is not only the first Sunday of Lent but it is also the afternoon when at the Cathedral of St. Jude, the Diocese of St. Petersburg welcomes most of those preparing for baptism, confirmation and first Eucharist at the Easter Vigil ceremony throughout the Diocese on Saturday, April 11, 2009 (the catechumens) and many more who will be received into “full communion” with the Church and be confirmed and make their First Eucharist at the same Easter Vigil (candidates, they are called). Candidates will have experienced first Penance prior to the Easter Vigil and, of course, those being baptized are washed clean of all sins in that sacrament, not just Original Sin.

The Cathedral ceremony is called “The Rite of Election” and earlier in the morning, those present will be “sent” to the Cathedral following the homily at Sunday morning’s Mass. One of the great pleasures in my life as bishop takes place tomorrow when these 1000+ gather for Evening Prayer and the welcome. Catechumens come up into the sanctuary first, accompanied most often by their pastor or the person who has helped them through the whole Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults (RCIA) or the Order of Christian Initiation of Children (OCIC). They bring a “Book of the Elect” which contains their names inscribed and enrolled to remain forever a part of the history of the parish. They shake my hand and I congratulate and welcome them, in the name of the whole local Church. For much of their journey they think they are largely alone or making the pilgrimage of faith with a few other nice people who are doing the same. When they get to the Cathedral and see the vast throng of people coming into the Church, they often become even more excited about their journey.

The reading for Evening Prayer tomorrow is taken from St. Paul’s Letter to the Phillipians, (1:4-6, 8-11): Brothers and sisters: I pray always with joy in my every prayer for all of you, because of your partnership for the Gospel from the first day until now. I am confident of this, that the one who began a good work in you will continue to complete it until the day of Christ Jesus. God is my witness, how I long for all of you with the affection of Christ Jesus. And this is my prayer: that your love may increase ever more and more in knowledge and every kind of perception, to discern what is of value, so that you may be pure and blameless for the day of Christ, filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ for the glory and praise of God. St. Paul’s pride at the growth of the Church at Phillipi gives him “joy” and “confidence”. The number of converts was likely to be no more than several hundred at the most at any one time. Imagine St. Paul’s joy at receiving over a thousand into the Church. God is very good and continues to work in our midst through the modern day servants of the Gospel, those who guide and direct the RCIA/OCIC programs in the parishes, the sponsors of the catechumens and candidates and those whose example of faith (often a spouse) has moved the initiate to make the journey.

A great afternoon for our local Church is in store and a thousand welcomes to all who await the Easter Vigil for unity of faith with us.

+RNL

Perhaps my personal most favorite passage of scripture is a part of this Sunday’s readings. It is John, 1: 35-42 . In this passage John identifies Jesus as “the Lamb of God” which for a knowledgeable Jew would indicate the long awaited Messiah and Jesus then calls Simon bar Jonah to join him. The disciples who drop everything approach Jesus and ask Him where He lives and He says to them, “Come and See.”

Where would Jesus take us today if He were physically moving around and we were attracted to Him enough to follow him? A comfortable home? The Don or Vinoy or Hyatt Westshore? One Buc Place and its Monster Truck Pull? The Trop? TIA? I don’t think so!

Pinellas Hope? Williams Park? All Children’s Hospital? Hospice of the five counties? Local food banks? Meetings of community organizations like FAST and HOPE where other people work for the poor and vulnerable? The Beach with young people to talk to about their life with God?  Kimberly Home and Alpha House with young women opting for the life in their wombs? The March for Life in DC? That’s more like it, to be sure.

Think about it and then respond like Samuel in the first reading, “Here I am Lord” and I will “come and see.”

+RNL