Who Do You Say I Am?

A homily for the Solemnity of Saints Peter and Paul


In my previous parish, the rectory there had a big mouse problem. Couldn’t get on top of it. The exterminators couldn’t. So finally my associate brought in two kittens from the shelter and I said, hey, but I live here. Should I have had a voice? He says, well, you can name them. And so I named the Abishag or Abbey, and Ezekiel, Zeke. Because they should have, rectory cats should have Bible names. And after they cleaned up the house, these two little kittens, they grew up and they became house cats. Well, eventually we moved and his parents retired. They wanted cats. So now they have the cats. And it’s been a while since I visited them. But I went to LA for an ordination and I stopped to have dinner with my associate parents, and I said, down before dinner and I’m just talking to them

The cats ignore me completely, ignored me completely. I was just there until I said, Abby, Zeke. And they straighten up and they look at me and they come running across the house, and Zeke jumped on my chest and Abby was there by my knees. And I think they recognize their names and they’re their endearing names. And that’s what they responded to, was their name. In today’s gospel, Jesus says, who do they say that I am? Who do people say that I am? And they give dry answers. Some say you are Elijah, some say you’re John the Baptist, some say you’re one of the prophets. And even Peter says you are the Christ, the son of the living God. These are all dry answers, and I’m wondering if that’s what Jesus is really asking for, like in the John’s Gospel towards the end when he says, Simon, do you love me more than these?

And he says, yes, Lord, you know I love you. I’m wondering if that’s the name he wants, if that’s the name he’s looking for, and that’s the name he’s preached. And that’s what his message to us is; love. This comes from Saint Teresa of Avila, from her like Book of Reflection. It’s called the soliloquies, “Since my beloved is for me and I for my beloved, who will be able to separate two fires so enkindled? For the two fires have become one.

I think that’s Teresa’s term for who do people say that I am? Teresa of Avila says my beloved. I think that’s what Jesus is looking for. From us, this loving relationship of hearts enkindled, hearts joined, hearts inseparable, had cannot be separated because the two have become one.

Saint Teresa of Avila

Journeying from Here to There

A homily for Corpus Christi Sunday

Today we are celebrating Corpus Christi. Corpus Christi means the body of Christ. Oftentimes, the feast is called the Body and blood of Christ. We celebrate the Eucharist today. And oftentimes when I hear the words Corpus Christi, I think of Corpus Christi procession. It’s the day for processions where after mass. Oftentimes the Eucharist is put into a monstrance, and the monstrance is walked around inside the church or outside the church, or through the neighborhood or through the parking lot.

It’s a day of processions, and I think that’s a great thing. It’s the first thing that comes to mind, and it’s a great thing because oftentimes we want to make the Eucharist like something static out there, separate to be awed and to be, worshipped out there. And no, it’s meant to be dynamic and changing. And so to have a procession is exactly what the Eucharist is about, from going from one place to another place.

And even when we receive, at mass. We always start in the pew and we head towards the altar. We don’t head towards the back or towards the side, or the Eucharist doesn’t come to us. We walk to the altar representing our journey to fullness or our journey to heaven.

Saint Edith Stein, also called Saint Teresa Benedict of the Cross, was a critic of Naziism and the political conditions of Europe. She was a Jewish convert to Catholicism, became a Carmelite nun. And so she was rounded up and sent to Auschwitz eventually to die there. And she’s a martyr, considered a martyr in the church today. Here’s what she has to say about the Eucharist. Living in the Eucharistic way means coming out of one cell, out of the narrowness of one’s life, and growing into the immensity of life in Christ. That’s why I like this image of procession, of coming out of the narrowness of one’s life and growing into the immensity of life in Christ.

I don’t think we should be celebrating processions, that kind of procession only today. This feast of Corpus Christi. But every day, to grow more and more out of my narrowness and into the immensity of Christ.

Saint Teresa of Avila

A Touch is All It Takes

A homily for Trinity Sunday


It’s surprising how often people come in to talk to the priest, and they’re upset because their children or their family or some relative or a spouse has stopped going to church, and they kind of beat themselves up saying, what did I do wrong? Did I not catechize them enough? Traine them enough? Did I not example enough? And I said, well, there’s nothing you can do more.


That’s what I answered. There’s nothing you can do more because now it’s up to God, because what you can do is you’re teaching, the faith, the catechetical faith, the content of the faith. But it’s up to God to make it a living faith. And that requires God to touch that person. When God touches that person, it’s not a chatecital faith, like a book faith, on paper, faith, a dry faith. It becomes a living faith. And that’s how I interpret Trinity Sunday. Trinity Sunday is about the touch of God. And it depends on what we’ve got going in our life. How God touches us. Sometimes God touches us to inspire us, to move us forward, to like a mighty wind on the Pentecost, to blast us out of our fear, out of ourselves.


And that we call Holy Spirit. Or sometimes God touches us with, tenderness and mercy, touches our wounds, and invites us to touch wounds. It’s compassion. It’s empathy. It’s one who like us. And we call it the son. Jesus the Christ. And that’s the call ethic of the gospels, is to be a more and more like Christ, more empathetic, more compassionate, more hopeful, more selfless love.


And sometimes God touches us with, like, great support. But God holds us up when things are, direst or when things are darkest, when things are hard. And that’s the father. That’s the touch of the father. You know, people could say, well, that’s just modalism. But I think that’s when God, the Trinity becomes alive. It’s a modal way of thinking of God.


It’s God touching us and God on earth and inspiring us, turning us from paper, faith, dry faith to living faith. And we move forward from there. Here’s a quotation from Saint Therese. of Lesieux a Carmelite about 100 years ago. Her autobiography is called story of a soul. She’s sometimes described as the greatest saint of modern times, and the quotation goes, the night was so black I didn’t see, but I knew Jesus was there in my boat.
That’s touch. That’s trinity.

Saint Teresa of Avila