A Homily for the Thirteenth Sunday after Pentecost

+ “Were not ten cleansed? Where are the nine? Was no one found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?” The somewhat indignant tone of these questions posed by Our Lord after having healed ten lepers rings throughout the centuries down to our own day: after all that Almighty God has done for us—from giving us the gift of life and the very world in which we live, to sacrificing His Beloved Son so that our sins may be forgiven and so that we may have eternal life—where is everyone? Why do so many people—indeed, why do the majority of people—fail to give Him the thanks and praise that is His due?
 
There are, of course, many reasons. From the ever-present temptations of the world, the flesh and the devil to the defective catechesis and formation that have accompanied ascent, if not the ongoing victory, of secularism and moral relativism witnessed in recent decades. A number of generations have now grown up unaware of all that they have been given by Almighty God (and of all that He wishes to give them still). They are not conscious of the need to give Him thanks and praise. They simply do not know the Ten Commandments, let alone the duty to worship Almighty God that is laid down in the first of them.
 
In the sixteenth chapter of his Rule Saint Benedict insists that this duty is fundamental to the life of the monk: “The prophet saith: Seven times a day have I given praise to thee. We shall observe this sacred number of seven, if we fulfil the duties of our service in the Hours of Lauds, Prime, Terce, Sext, None, Vespers and Compline; for it was of these day Hours that he said: Seven times a day have I given praise to thee. But of the Night Office the same prophet saith: I arose at midnight to give praise to thee. At these times, therefore, let us render praise to our Creator for the judgments of His justice: that is, at Lauds, Prime, Terce, Sext, None, Vespers and Compline; and let us rise in the night to praise Him.”
 
This is a demanding schedule, certainly, and as any monk knows, twice daily it involves offering the sacrifice of a bed for a wooden choir stall! But it is truly a beautiful duty to fulfil—a burden that is light and a yoke that is sweet (cf. Mt 11:30)—for it is right, it is the just thing to do: dignum et justum est, as we sing together before the Preface of each Mass.
 
It is unfortunate, and indeed it is neither right nor is it just, that not even monasteries have escaped the de-formation of recent decades and have often departed from that which Saint Benedict regards as the minimum of praise that is our duty. Certainly, monasteries can be busy with many good works, but if monks will not first and foremost “render praise to our Creator for the judgements of His justice”—and thereby allow those who come to monasteries also so to do—who shall? If the lighthouse refuses to shine its light in the darkness, how shall those who are lost and far from home find their way?
 
But to “render praise to our Creator for the judgements of His justice” is not the exclusive duty of monks. The first commandment applies to all men and women: we are all created in the image and likeness of Almighty God. Certainly, the duties of different states in life prevent taking the same amount of time to worship Almighty God as would a monk, but there must be some time, each day, in which we thank and praise Him (and yes, cry to Him in distress and beg Him for what we need and apologise to Him for our sins as circumstances demand). The formation given by good parents in insisting that their children say their prayers in the morning and before going to bed is instructive, even to the generations who have missed out on this. It is right and it is just that I, His creature, amidst whatever my life involves, give thanks and praise to Almighty God each day—not forgetting of course the solemn duty to worship Him at Mass each Sunday and to keep the Lord’s day holy.
 
Yet it is not so easy to praise and thank Almighty God in times of suffering or illness or old age. At times, pain, frailty and fear weigh as heavily as the Cross upon our shoulders. Yet, even in this darkness we must remember the reality of the light of Easter morning. For whilst suffering and bodily death await us all, the very reason for our praise and thanksgiving is greater still than anything we must endure. As Saint Paul reminded the Romans: “Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? As it is written, ‘For thy sake we are being killed all the day long; we are regarded as sheep to be slaughtered.’ No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us. For I am sure that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Rom. 8:35-39).
 
For this love, which is our gateway into eternal life, let us give humble thanks at this altar this morning. Let our days—be they in the cloister, the home, at school or in the workplace—be filled with the praise of He who has made this possible, for it is truly right and just that we should give Him thanks and praise—for therein, like the leper, we will find our salvation.+