We had the Rite of Acceptance and Welcoming at today’s 10:30 mass. This was my homily.
The first reading today features King David, the most beloved of the kings of Israel. He unites the tribes of the north and the south, to become king of all of Israel. As royalty and a great unifier, David foreshadows Jesus, one who is to come also to be the king of all. David, we know, becomes an ancestor of the family into which Jesus would be born 1000 years later.
The psalmist sings, let us go rejoicing, into the house of God. Then St. Paul explains that Christ is the image of the invisible God. It all builds toward a great triumph, doesn’t it? The stage is set, the music swells, and we’re all primed for the grand entrance of the king of the universe, the ruler of all that is. We sing alleluias as I climb up these stairs to read the last gospel of the year.
And what comes out? Christ crucified. Not what we expected. Our God, our leader, our hope, nailed to an instrument of torture, being jeered at and humiliated, wearing a crown of thorns. As if to pile on that image, Luke has progressively lower people mocking Jesus: first the rulers, then the soldiers, then a common criminal.
The other criminal manages to seize his very last opportunity to reform. It’s too late to save his life, but he calls attention to the truth, and he humbly asks Jesus to remember him. Struggling at this point even to breathe, Jesus promises the man that he is on his way to paradise, that very day. And Jesus says “you will be with me,” reminding us that during his life, these were the people he hung out with; he ate and drank with sinners. This is our king.
We were counting on someone who revels in glory and power. So were the people in the gospel. We wanted Jesus to do it our way; to do what we expect.
Jesus didn’t do what we expected. He did more.
Where do we see ourselves in the story? Whom do we identify with? The criminal with the big mouth and small mind, who tells Jesus to save himself? In life’s moments of crisis, do we look for a string to pull, a favor to call in, a con to run, anything but to take responsibility for our actions and admit our mistakes?
Or with the repentant thief, who has the grace to turn away from a life of lying, cheating and stealing. This is the last conversation he’ll ever have, and he says, let’s be honest about something for a change. He discovers the comfort of the truth.
Or how about with Jesus on the cross? When we’re beat up and hurting, humiliated and hated, how ready are we to offer an encouraging word, to make a life-affirming statement to another person, as Jesus does to this criminal next to him?
With this gospel reading, we bid farewell, for a while, to the gospel of Luke. Next Sunday we begin a new Church year, and we start reading though Matthew. This is also the season of Thanksgiving, and some Facebook friends have been posting 30 days of thanks – putting up something to be thankful for, every day this month.
Today I’m thankful for these new people knocking on the door of our Church. Kelsey and Liz and Aaron are three of the people who will come into the Church at the Easter Vigil; one of them is already baptized, and others are going to be baptized on that night in April. Today they are publicly stating their desire to strengthen that attachment to us; they’re all saying, “I think I belong here.”
They are coming to learn the value of service. They are coming to know the dying and rising of Christ in the ups and downs of their own lives. They are beginning to feel their connection to those who have gone before us in this faith.
They look to this community for guidance and support.
We can give them what they need, because we follow a King who gave everything for us. Who gave up the glory so that we could become the best versions of ourselves.
Jesus, our God walking among us, doesn’t do things the way we expect. He eats and drinks with broken, flawed people. Like us. In the end he dies with them. What does that tell us about the savior of the world?
Better yet, we should ask ourselves, what do my words and my actions tell the world about the savior of the world?
Belonging 