1. Year A / Eastertide / 5th Sunday 
    Readings: Acts 6.1-7 / Psalm 33 (R/v 22) / 1 Peter 2.4-9 / John 14.1-12
    Of late, “friendship” has been on my mind.

    As I packed up my room, boxed up my books to ship home and said goodbye to my closest Jesuit brothers, I found myself thinking about friendship. My thoughts were a mixture of joy, for the good times shared, and of sadness, for the departures we must make. I oscillated between gratitude, for what our friendships are, and of anxiety, for how they will change. 

    As I gazed at my friends’ familiar smiles and savoured the timbre of their voices one final time, and as we shared one last hug, I acknowledged that the moment to let go had come. To let go of them—and today, of you too—with whom I have woven histories with. To let go of those with whom I have knitted together our stories of faith and life in Jesus in these my Boston years. Yes, the time has come to say goodbye and to move on.

    Truth be told, I find it difficult to say goodbye. But I found some consolation in poetry, as I always do. In particular, I found it in this quote from the Irish poet, W.B. Yeats: “Friendship is all house I have.” Yeats wrote this line in February 1909 when he grappled with the death of a close friend. His quote—which interestingly is in the present tense—does not speak about loss or farewell. Rather, it speaks to me of always being embraced in friendship's warmth. Though they were no longer physically present to one another, their friendship continued to be, for Yeats, his dwelling place.

    In today’s gospel passage, we hear an echo of this reality of friendship as a dwelling place. We hear it in Jesus’ hope-filled message to his disciples that friendship with him leads one to the Father’s house. More beautifully, it leads one to dwelling in this house of God, where is always room for everyone. 

    This house is not a future dwelling place the disciples have to wait for. Nor, is it a place or destination they have to anticipate arriving at in some distant future. Rather, they are already dwelling in God’s house. Jesus—who is one with the Father, who is dwelling in the Father, as the Father dwells in him—says to them that where he is, there also they will be, and where he is going, they know the way.

    Jesus’ message must have been consoling to the disciples. They had been hearing Jesus bid them farewell as they shared their last supper. Their hearts were probably troubled that he was about to leave them and to be put to death. A death for their salvation, and for our salvation too. He quieted their aching hearts by speaking of God’s house; he calmed their anxious spirits by assuring them that there is always abundant accommodation in God’s house. In contrast to the birth of Jesus when there was no room at the earthly inn, Jesus promises that the Father’s heavenly inn will never be too full; there will be always room for one and all, saint and sinner alike.  

    This house is also far more than a guesthouse; the Father’s house is home.  It is the place the prodigal son returns to when he comes to his senses; coming home, he is not only forgiven but he is also welcomed back, embraced as his father’s own and given back his dignity as the son. This place, God’s house, is where you and I long to return to when we are homeless and heartsore. And yes, this is where our earthly pilgrimage will certaintly end at.

    How will we get there? Through Jesus; with Jesus; in Jesus. He is the shepherd and the gate from last week’s gospel who will make sure that everything and everyone will be brought “back home” to the Father.  This is his assurance to Thomas: to follow him is follow him to the Father’s house. This is his pledge to Philip: to walk with him is to come to know who God really is and what God really does: God loves us to save us so that we can live with him fully and happily, now and always. 

    This is why Jesus is for all peoples the way to God, and the truth and the life that they are God’s own. Indeed, in God’s mercy and love, coming home to God and being one with God is what Jesus’ death and resurrection has gained for us. Coming home and dwelling with God is another way to celebrate what Easter is about.

    Today we have the example of Jesus handing on to us this good news: we will always be welcomed into the Father’s home. Jesus hands this on because we are his friends. This good news is what the apostles—Jesus first friends—in turn, handed on to us in the Gospels and through the Church’s teaching and tradition. They did not interpret, teach or proclaim this good news of God’s house as our dwelling place using theology or philosophy. Rather, they could do this because of their intimate friendship with Jesus. With the apostles, we learn that to know Jesus is always to know the Father.

    Friendship with Jesus is what you and I are also called to hand on to one another as friends. We can do this because we already have the gift of Jesus’ friendship. We did not choose him as friend; rather, he has already chosen us as his friends. And he has etched onto our hearts his name—Christian, one like Christ—and so, claimed us as his own forever. 

    The goodness of our individual friendships with Jesus does not come alive, however, until we can hand on the gift of Jesus in our lives to someone else. Then, we make real for them and for ourselves, that Jesus's good company with us leads us to no other place but God’s house. And he does not just lead us there; he also welcomes into God's house to dwell, to rest, and to have life to the full. It might be good, then, for us as a community of friends in the Lord to ask ourselves, now and again: "Am I handing on Jesus’ friendship to another? Am I doing this enough and well?"

    I believe we have done this for each other here in this place and over these months together. Instead of doing this with theology or teaching, we have done this by living out our friendship with Jesus with each other in small and big ways. Like Jesus: we have reached out to one another; we have welcomed all; we have accepted each other in spite of our limitations and faults; and we have exchanged peace with a handshake, a smile or a hug. And like Jesus, we have generously shared our life of faith in God with simple, life-giving words and warm affection.

    I’d like to suggest that it is in sharing Jesus’ friendship that you and I can draw strength and hope to recognize  that goodbyes do not lead to forgetfulness and loss. Rather, in Jesus, friends remain friends. This is because they will abide together in him who is always with us, even to the end of time (Matthew 28:20). 

    Indeed, with Jesus, friends—like you and me—live in no other place but God’s house. Here, they will always be sheltered in life-giving love. Here, they will find safe harbor in difficult times. Here, they can always rest their weary hearts. Here, they will learn again and again the fundamental lessons of life and faith whenever they are confused or disobedient. 

    And yes, it is here, in God’s house, that friends will find the source, the reason and the joy to be in friendship all the days of their lives. 

    Indeed, with Jesus as our friend, how can our friendships with one another not be on our minds and in our hearts always?




    Preached at Blessed Mother of Teresa of Calcutta, Dorchester, Boston
    photo: from the internet

    Posted by
    Labels: Breaking Open God's Word Easter Friendship
    0

    Add a comment

  2. Year A / Eastertide / 3rd Week / Thursday 
    Readings: Acts 8.26-40 / Psalm 66 (R/v 1) /John 6.44-51


    Today’s readings are like a musical score; they offer us two movements and a refrain to attune our ears to.

    The first movement is centrifugal. It is a movement from the center to the periphery. From the light and comfort of a believing community to the unknown and uncertainty of the mission field. From the big city, Jerusalem, to the desert, to that route that leads away to Gaza. This is the movement Philip makes in our first reading.

    The impetus of this first movement is the Spirit. The Spirit calls, guides and animates Philip to instruct the Ethiopian Eunuch. The eunuch has encountered the Crucified Messiah as foretold by the prophet Isaiah, and he is keen to know more about this man. But he needs someone to teach him, someone to enlighten him. Philip is God’s instrument to do this.

    We too are on an outward movement. Whether we are graduating this year and going into the mission field, or returning to the School of Theology and Ministry (STM) in Fall to be formed some more in studies, you and I are already being swept out on this missionary current. Here in this school and in this time of learning, we are being formed to instruct, to teach, to proclaim the faith. And our formation already draws us outwards on the arc of this current: are we not ministering to others, like the eunuch, in our different apostolates and outreach programs already?

    But like Philip, our proclamation to others cannot just be an instruction or a teaching. Nor, can it be about giving them theology and more theology. We must proclaim like Philip did: “he proclaimed Jesus.” 

    Jesus is who—not what—that has been handed down to us here in the STM. In our classes and studies, in our sharing life and faith together this year, we have received, through one another, Jesus.  Philip handed on his friendship with Jesus to the eunuch. The intimacy of their friendship enabled him to interpret, to teach and to proclaim not words in Scripture but the person of Jesus in his life. This is what we are being called to hand on too in mission. This is why we are called forth and to do like the apostles.

    The second movement is centripetal. This is a movement from the periphery to the center. From the desert road into the faith life of the community. From the mission field into that communion that is church.

    This movement is also rooted in the work of the Spirit. The Spirit gives faith to the eunuch to begin to believe. The Spirit gives wisdom to Philip to evangelize and to teach. The Spirit gathers them through the act of baptism into one community of friends in the Lord.  The eunuch’s curiosity thus gives way to knowledge. His being on the margins gives way to becoming part of the whole, part of the believing community. His wondering about this Jesus gives way to entering into friendship with Jesus.

    We too are called to bring about this centripetal movement in the lives of those we serve. As we do this, we shouldn’t be surprised that we are also already caught up in this missionary current that brings us, and the people we evangelize, back to Jesus, who is the center of our lives. 

    This movement to Jesus must assure us that all our living and studying at STM is worth it. Why? Because this movement gets us out ourselves to meet another; it saves. This movement imbues us with courage to take up a project that excites us. This movement strengthens our commitment to a shared dream. This movement deepens our belief that we are moving in the right direction. Indeed, when we walk together toward the center, this movement empowers us to embrace life together, and live.

    Two movements: from inside to outside; from outside to inside.

    But these movements are founded on a refrain. 
    A refrain that sets in place the motion of going out. 
    A refrain that gives this movement its rhythm. 
    A refrain that finally gathers the movement back into an ending; 
    an ending that keeps resounding long after the music of life that these movements  are fades away into history. 

    We find this refrain in today's gospel reading. It is Jesus’ self-revelatory proclamation: “I am the Bread of life.” 

    This refrain is the why we are being prepared to be sent forth: to help assuage their hunger and thirst of seeking to know God. But our proclamation will only nourish them when we allow ourselves to imbibe this refrain; imbibe it so that it transfigures us into becoming bread broken too, like Jesus, for someone else in need.

    Yes, Jesus is bread for the journey of Christian life. For our journey, like Philip’s, into the mission. And, for the journey of the eunuch and those like him into friendship with Jesus. Indeed, Jesus is our daily bread for these movements that we make daily in our interactions with each other and with those who are entrusted into our care and stewardship. After all, the movement out and the movement in make sense only in community.

    Our readings today invite us to embrace the truth that whether we are walking outwards into mission, or walking back into community with those we accompany into the church, Jesus is with us always.

    This is what we can remember with gratitude from all our learning this school year. This is what we can celebrate with joy for the reality of living our faith well today. And, this is what we can believe in as we let the Spirit sweep us out into the mission field, and then bring us home with another into God’s communion.

    Yes, two movements and a refrain: this is the rhythm of our Christian life in the risen Jesus.



    With insights from Bruno Nobre, SJ

    Preached at BC School of Ministry and Theology Chapel, Brighton, Boston (final homily)
    photo: still shot from Walter Salles' On the Road.

    Posted by
    Labels: Breaking Open God's Word Easter
    0

    Add a comment

  3. Year A / Eastertide/ 2nd Week / Saturday – Feast of the Apostles Philip and James
    Readings: 1 Corinthians 15.1-8 / Pslam 19 (R/v 5) / John 14.6-14


    These are transition days in our Jesuit community: some of us will graduate and leave; many will finish this school year and return to learn a little longer; and of course, the faculty and formatores will stay for even longer. 

    Whatever our next steps are, we have come to that moment of goodbyes. Goodbye to our shared faith and worship; goodbye to our theological debates and ruminations; goodbye to our collaborative ministry and community life. 

    Many of us however shy away from saying, “Goodbye, friend.” We skirt around these words: we congratulate each other for graduating; we say “see you around.” Sometimes, we’ll say, “let’s keep in touch; let’s email and skype.” Then, there are those who go quietly to avoid the pain, as they are others who disappear because they bother not. 

    Truth be told, we should not diminish the impact of our goodbyes in our lives. This is when we will speak our final words of farewell. When, for one last time, we will gaze at a friend’s familiar smile and savor the timbre of my friend’s voice. We will probably share a final hug, holding on for a tad longer in friendship’s warmth. In that moment, we will be thankful for our Jesuit friendship. 

    But if we are honest enough, we will find ourselves asking this question, “What have I received from this place, from this time: what has been handed on to me?”  

    And, if we can be more honest with ourselves and with God, we will probably reflect harder on this question: “What have I really handed on to those I have lived and studied with, to those I have ministered too?  

    How we answer these questions is integral to how we say goodbye. Integral because they determine our thanksgiving for gifts received, as they also inform our celebrations for having lived these gifts in our lives and for others. After all, aren't  the gifts handed on to us are only truly gifts when we lavishly hand them on to others?

    This theme of handing on is central to our 1st reading. Paul explains to the Corinthians that he is handing on to them “of first importance” what he had received: that Christ died for our sins and God raised him up for us to have new life, that he fulfilled the Scriptures, and that he continues to come into and be part of our lives.

    Handing on this faith in the risen Christ is what Paul and the apostles practiced as the Christian way of living. More specifically, they lived this reality of handing on in friendship with and for one another in community.  Whether, it was in the churches they founded or ministered to—for James, it was caring for the Christians in Jerusalem, while for Philip, it was preaching in Greece and Phrygia—the apostles handed on the faith. 

    They didn’t just hand on a truth, a belief or a way to live. Rather, their handing on witnessed primarily to Jesus’ friendship in their lives. They made the gift of Jesus real to one and all by handing on this friendship: because it is by being friends with Jesus that all peoples have the way to God and the truth and the life that they are God’s own. 

    And isn’t this apostolic handing on of faith in Jesus—which is what today’s feast also calls to mind—how you and I are really called to hand on our own particular friendship with Jesus, this one relationship of importance in each of our lives, to one another? 

    I’d like to suggest that when you and I are separated by time and space, scattered around the world, and doing our varied works, what will remind us that our friendships remain real, alive and true is the gift we give to one another of Jesus.

    Then, as our friendships—no matter how rich, delightful and life-giving they are now—change, grow and mature (if we choose to keep in touch), what we can be certain of is that in Jesus we remain gathered together.  

    Gathered together because we will remember that we’ve shared Jesus’ story of God in our lives as we studied theology or practiced how to hear confessions or preside at mass. Gathered together because we will relive the experience of Jesus in our lives whenever we recall our shared laughter and joys, our struggles and regrets. And gathered together because we will celebrate the love of God who has sustained us, challenged us and loved us into becoming more and more Jesus’ companions when we continue—hopefully—to keep in touch about our everyday times of living, studying and doing ministry wherever we may be in the future.

    Indeed, as our friendships take on a new form, have a new rhythm, be about keeping in touch and relating in a new way, what we have handed on to each other will only make sense if we do what Philip and James, like the other apostles and Paul, did: hand on our friendships with Jesus to others, whether we remain here or we are missioned elsewhere.

    Then, the goodness of Jesus in our friendships will fulfill its promised communion. For in handing on our shared gift of Jesus to others, we make real for them and for ourselves, our happy and living presence in Jesus’ good company that we gift to one another in our time here. 

    And isn’t this what you and I are doing right now: sharing in the Christian story that has been handed on to us of Jesus, of God-with-us, befriending us, in one another, and sending us out, in turn, to befriend others? And if this is what we remember, we celebrate and we believe in each time we gather around this table, here or elsewhere, then, how can we ever forget the friendships we have, and not cherish them as “eucharistic” too?

    Preached at Faber Jesuit Community, Brighton, Boston (final homily in community)
    photo: from the Internet (mercatornet.com)


    Posted by
    Labels: Breaking Open God's Word Jesuitica
    0

    Add a comment

"Bukas Palad"
"Bukas Palad"
is Filipino for open palms
Greetings!
Greetings!
Peace and welcome, dear friend.
I hope you will find in these posts something that speaks to you of the God who loves us all and who always holds us in the palm of his hand. Blessings!
The Liturgical Calendar / Year C
The Liturgical Calendar / Year C
Faith & Spirituality
Faith & Spirituality
Tagged as...
Tagged as...
Blog Archive
Blog Archive
Fall in Love, Stay in Love
Fall in Love, Stay in Love

"Nothing is more practical than finding God, that is, than falling in love in a quite absolute way final way. What you are in love with, what seizes your imagination, will affect everything. It will decide what will get you out of bed in the morning, what you do with your evenings, how you spend your weekends, what you read, who you know, what breaks your heart, and what amazes you with joy and gratitude. Fall in love, stay in love, and it will decide everything."

Pedro Arrupe, sj, Superior General, 1965 - 1983

About Me
About Me
My Photo
is a 50something Catholic who resides in Singapore and works for the Church. He is a priest of the Roman Catholic Church.
Disclaimer
Disclaimer
©adrian.danker.sj, 2006-2018

The views I express in these pages are personal. They do not speak for the Society of Jesus or the Catholic Church.
Loading