On Homilies

Archbishop DiNoia

The Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception, given its prominence and its location in the nation's capital, is often host to a variety of intriguing ecclesiastical personalities. Archbishop Carlo Maria Vigano, the Apostolic Nuncio to the United States, is often on hand for special masses, as is Archbishop Donald Cardinal Wuerl. Today, we were privileged to have Archbishop J. Augustine DiNoia on hand for the solemn mass at noon. His Excellency is currently resident in Rome most of the time, as he is the Adjunct Secretary of the Congregation of the Doctrine of the Faith (Benedict XVI served as Prefect of this Congregation prior to his elevation to the Chair of Peter). However, Archbishop DiNoia has many local connections. He is a Dominican, and he was for a long time intimately connected with the Dominican House of Studies, located across the street from Catholic University. Vocations at the Dominican House are flourishing, and I see many young men dressed in the tell-tale black and white habits daily in the neighborhood. Much of the Dominican renaissance happening in DC can be attributed at least partially to DiNoia's tenure.

In any event, I must report that His Excellency delivered a homily that was simply superb. I know little about homiletics, and I am reticent to criticize most priests on their homilies because I often have much more trouble expressing my thoughts verbally than I do in writing. I empathize with the bad homilists, in other words - and I tend to give the benefit of the doubt when things veer into sentimentality or apparent heterodoxy. On the other hand, I must give high praise where it is due. On a Sunday such as this - the Octave Day of Easter, the Sunday of Divine Mercy, the day of two prominent canonizations - I imagine it must've been quite difficult to come up with a homily that would tie it all together - without even mentioning the rich scriptural passages proclaimed today. Nevertheless, Archbishop DiNoia managed to tie it all together in under fifteen minutes, sprinkling in quotes from St. Irenaeus' Adverses Haereses, St. Faustina, St. Maximus the Confessor, and St. John Paul II's Veritatis Splendor to boot!

The major thrust of his sermon was that we are each made for holiness, which results in perfect communion with God, who has no need of our communion, but desires it for us anyways, out of His love. The Trinity is holy communion par excellence and exists in and of itself for its own end. It is God. But, as the Psalmist says, the Lord is kind and merciful, and He will not leave us to fend for ourselves. He has given of Himself to reconcile creature and creator. He has given us his Truth to guide us. And He gives us his mercy for when we go astray from the Truth.

The message was clear. It encapsulated the whole central truth of Christianity. And yet, how often do we hear such clear theology proclaimed from the pulpit? Not every priest has the same talent for speaking and expressing himself, but imagine if for one Sunday each priest from the rising of the sun to its setting was allowed the eloquence of this masterful bishop of the Orders Preacher.

To love another person is to see the face of God

Today, I finished reading Les Miserables. I had been reading it off-and-on since about September. I must say that I was a bit overwhelmed when I finished reading the last words. Any book of more than 1,200 pages becomes a friend, and I was saddened that my journey with this particular friend has drawn to a close (for now -- books are forgiving friends, and they don't mind years of ignorance).

To say Les Miserables was a good read is to somewhat miss the point. It is a good read, but, I think that the plot (though certainly interesting and polished) is more of a device of the central thesis. I had this feeling when I read Brideshead Revisited some time ago. In this regard, they may be seen as cousins. Brideshead muses on the workings of grace in depraved humanity, while Les Mis concerns itself with the application of mercy and love to those who are undeserving (or so we might think). We see the actors on a stage of divine proportions. The Bishop's first merciful act toward Jean Valjean sets in motion the rest of the novel, wherein Valjean's goodness and mercy towards others (as well as his interior struggles to form his conscience uprightly) influence the other characters profoundly. There exist not a few foils to this central motion of the plot. There are the Thenardiers - the very personifications of selfishness. Javert, clearly, is at the other end of the spectrum, in that he forgets himself (and his humanity) for the sake of the sterile letter of the law. Marius is torn between his love for Cosette and his desire for the restoration of the Republic. Cosette is the personification of innocent love itself - standing in the world as if an icon.

My first exposure to the story was through the film version released two Christmases ago. I did not even know the general storyline before then. When I saw the film, I was really quite moved. The story felt so fresh and real - in a way that many stories of that age do not. In a way, it was very rewarding to move from the general outline sketched in the film to the very deep well of information conveyed in the book. Entire subplots bubbled to the surface and formed streams that swirled throughout the story, tying this and that together. To continue the metaphor, the streams which are the subplots truly influence the outcome of the river, which is the main arc of the plot. To fit such complexity into a film, things are necessarily flattened quite a bit, and much of the richness of the layers beneath the surface was lost.

But, in the end, it is not about these plots and subplots, it is about a group of characters struggling in their circumstances to do what is right and to make decisions for the betterment of what they love (whether it be the Revolution, the girl through the gate, the prostitute, the law, or money). Seeing into the minds of the characters as they struggle with their decisions is what makes Les Miserables such an engaging and fascinating read.

Ite ad Ioseph

I'm embarking on a rather important week. Please, if you can spare a moment, I'd appreciate any prayers entrusted especially to the intercession of St. Joseph.