When I was asked to preach the homily for today, I went to the Ordo to see what the readings for May 21st looked like – and that’s where I found tonight’s second reading.  It may seem a peculiar choice for this occasion, but when I read it, one line in particular stood out: “You have no idea what your life will be like tomorrow.”

Here we are celebrating jubilees of priesthood and religious life and reflecting on our past, but we’re also in the middle of an Assembly planning for our future.  It seems to me that these words from the letter of James put things in perspective – the word of God sharper than any two-edged sword: “You have no idea what your life will be like tomorrow.”

When our Golden Jubilarians were ordained on April 25th, 1958, our province had a very different profile.  Back then we were 497 professed religious with a class of students in each monastery and a burgeoning novitiate.  The Provincial had the luxury of assigning men anywhere he chose and wherever there was a need.  There wasn’t any consultation; your name just appeared on a list and off you went.  We didn’t hear much about affirmation in those days -- and ‘positive feedback’ was a term yet to be invented.  Passionist life was pretty sober and Spartan.

But it was good.  And we have a lot of wonderful memories to cherish:  life together in the bonds of community, the generosity of men who went wherever they were needed.  Of men who preached the Passion in season and out of season in poor and incommodious places.  Of priests and brothers who served their communities in many capacities, and who served the wider church by accepting offices of responsibility in various dioceses.  Of men who day in and day out performed what we used to call “de ea” service, which was anything but – hearing confessions, being refugia peccatorum, listening patiently to the stories of the people who came to our monastery parlors seeking comfort and solace.

Whatever happens in life, we want it to be meaningful; we want to make sense out of it.  And storytelling is our most basic way of naming and owning the experience – as in our gospel reading.  The two disciples on the road to Emmaus are filled with doubt and confusion.  But as they tell their story, they’re drawn into reflecting on the larger story of their faith.  For the stranger who walks with them takes their raw experience and puts it into the

context of the Scriptures.  The larger story makes sense out of their bewilderment, and it opens them up to a deeper understanding of the Lord’s presence in their midst.  Their day ends with a shared meal and a celebration as the Lord sits down to supper with them.

 

In that same context, we gather together around this table of the Lord to commemorate the jubilees of our brothers in community: Owen Sharkey celebrating 70 years of profession, Steven Haslach, 60 years of profession – and then we have our golden jubilarians: two men celebrating their religious profession: Joe Jones and Lucian Clark, and seven men their ordination to the priesthood: Gregory Paul, Herbert Eberly, Henry Free, Roger Elliott, Jerome McKenna, Alban Harmon and Earl Keating – just think of all the stories.

Were we to hear each of them, of their life experiences with all their joys and sorrows, we would see how they fit into the larger picture of salvation history and celebrate them accordingly.  For if storytelling names our experience, celebration frames it.  Our stories go on from day to day, like a flowing landscape with both bright and dark moments.  But we sometimes miss their import until we see them framed as a good painting or photograph.  Celebration enables us to step back a moment, look at the story we’re living, see it in its proper context, and return to everyday life with a new sense of perspective.

I don’t think it’s fair to say that religious life or priesthood has fallen on hard times or evil days. But certainly there is a world of difference between attitudes expressed today as compared with 50 years ago.  Cynics today would say that religious life or priesthood is a wasted life.  The worldly-wise do not perceive the things that are of God, for it is foolishness to them.  Our Lord’s own disciples weren’t any more perceptive.  Until they understood the cross and the resurrection, they also judged by this world’s standards.  Only when their eyes were opened and they recognized Jesus in the breaking of the bread, did they even begin to question themselves or their viewpoint: “Were not our hearts burning inside us?”

There are so many instances in the gospels when Jesus tries in vain to teach his followers his values.  But they cling stubbornly to their own.  We recall how, in John’s gospel, they watch the woman with the alabaster jar of precious ointment pour it on the feet of Jesus – and one of them condemns such scandalous waste!

The kind of ‘waste’ that started in Bethlehem when the useless crown of gold that the infant Jesus’ head could not support was laid at his feet; when clouds of incense hung in the rafters of the stable; when the air was fragrant with the smell of myrrh.  There the waste began.  It continued in the flask of precious ointment broken at the feet of Jesus to anoint him for his burial.

It spread down through the ages in the lives of men like Paul of the Cross and Gabriel, Theodore Foley and so many of the brethren we have known in our lifetime. This ‘waste’ is the extravagance of love: the love that prompted Jesus Christ to lay down his life for our sakes.  It prompted Passionists too, to “waste” their lives for the sake of the gospel – to leave home and loved ones and give their lives in service to others, as preachers and pastors, as missionaries at home and abroad.  Such so-called waste is and always will be a scandal to those who do not believe, but to those who are called, it is the power of God and the wisdom of God.

This evening we look back fondly on our past and we look forward hopefully to our future.  It’s true we have no idea what our life will be like tomorrow, but we trust in the providence of our loving God and in the guidance of the Holy Spirit to lead us. 

And so, my dear Jubilarians, we thank you for your lives of service to our community and to the Church – and as your life stories continue, may you celebrate them with joy and a new sense of perspective.  For “we are sure that God, who began this good work in you, will go on completing it until it is finished on the day of Christ Jesus.”   (Phil 1:6)  Ad multos annos.

Damian Towey, C.P.

May 21, 2008