A Homily for the Eighth Sunday after Pentecost

+ Prescinding from the Gospel’s almost cynical praise of the dishonest steward—we know only too well how easily the children of the light can be duped and devoured by the children of this word—let us ponder a little some of the liturgical texts of this Eighth Sunday after Pentecost. All too often they pass us by, and yet Our Holy Mother the Church sings them year in and year out, contemplating ever more deeply the realities of which they sing.

“In the midst of Your Temple, O God, we have received Your mercy; according to Your Name, O God, Your praise is sung to the ends of the earth; Your Right Hand is full of justice,” the Introit sings in the words of Psalm 47. Certainly, the Psalms are Old Testament songs, but we must not forget that sung in the Christian Liturgy (the Mass, the Divine Office and other rites) they have a clear Christological focus. Certainly, a devout Jew would have sung these words with the God of Israel in view, but after God became man and brought us the fulness of revelation it is impossible to limit their scope.

Hence, for the Christian, these words sing of the mercy and grace each of us has received through the Temple that is the Resurrected Christ who lives and acts in His One True Church down to this day through the Sacred Liturgy and the Sacraments and other rites the liturgy celebrates. For Christianity is, as was Judaism before it, essentially a cultic faith. It is not primarily a set of ideas or beliefs held by individuals; rather, it is a way of living in an ecclesial (i.e. communal) relationship with God profoundly rooted in the public, ritual worship of the Holy Trinity—the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. That is to say that public worship is intrinsic to and literally the foundation of Christian life, not an optional upgrade to it that can be chosen (or declined) at will. Public worship is an essential component of Christian DNA, as it were.

This goes a long way to explain why the form of that worship itself is also not a matter of arbitrary choice, and why its rites cannot be suddenly forbidden or disproportionately changed for something that is not in substantial continuity with that which has gone before. The Sacred Liturgy is the beating heart of the Christian life and mission, ensuring that grace is pumped efficiently to all parts of the Body of Christ. And, as any cardiologist will tell us, if the heart no longer functions as an efficient pump, parts of the body may quickly and seriously sicken with the danger of eventual death. We must be on our guard against liturgical anaemia or any cancerous disorders that eat away at the spirit and power of the Sacred Liturgy and thereby weaken or even poison our ability to live our vocation as a people called to worship the Triune God in all that we say and do. For, as the Church sings before the Gospel today, “Great is the Lord, and exceedingly to be praised in the city of our God, in his holy mountain.” And as she sings during the Communion procession in the beautiful words of Psalm 33: “Taste and see how sweet the Lord is; blessed is the man who places his trust in Him.”

Again, sung in the light of the Incarnation and of the Resurrection, these psalms call us not to consent to an idea or to accept a philosophy, rather they call us to a particular way of living whereby the praise of God is always upon our lips (cf. Ps. 33:1) and where we continually turn to the sacraments, most particularly the Most Blessed Eucharist, for our spiritual nourishment. And the man or woman who does this is truly blessed—even as the vicissitudes of living in a world that moves further and further away from the Truth in its relentless if not demonic pursuit of secularism, relativism and a culture of death continue press down upon us in so many ways.

Yes, the world has lost its way. Christendom is an historical memory and countries which were once proudly Catholic are now embarrassed to allow even the mention of God in public discourse, let alone to uphold even the most basic of rights—the right to life from conception until natural death. Amidst this cesspool of subjectivism, utilitarianism and opportunism, by virtue of our Baptism we are each called to take a stand: first and foremost here, together, before the Altar of God, at least on each and every Sunday and Holy Day of Obligation, without exception or excuse (unless truly grave reasons that the Church recognises prevent us) in order to render unto Almighty God the worship that is His due and so as to receive from Him the graces we need to persevere in fruitful fidelity in the particular vocation He has given us.

At the beginning of his Confessions, St Augustine prayed: “Thou movest us to delight in praising Thee; for Thou hast formed us for Thyself, and our hearts are restless till they find rest in Thee. Lord, teach me to know and understand which of these should be first, to call on Thee, or to praise Thee; and likewise, to know Thee, or to call upon Thee.”

As we stand together before the Lord’s altar this morning in praise, thanksgiving and supplication, let us open our hearts to Him so that He may fill them anew, and let us not omit to pray for those whose hearts remain restless and empty, that they too shall come to taste and see how sweet the Lord indeed is. +