Twenty-Eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Happy Columbus Day weekend. Columbus was a 15th century derring-do sailor, a skilled navigator, a man of vision He discovered America by chance—no GPS, no Waze, no newfangled applications. Imagine that!!!

Unlike Columbus, we live in a high-tech world.  In fact, I read about a contractor who renovated a church at no charge – “an offer the pastor couldn’t refuse” -- on one condition: that the pastor never intrude until it was done. Then the pastor was astounded to see only one pew in the church. But once people filled the pew, up came another row electronically from the floor, and another etc. Seating as needed. No empty seats!

The pastor went to the pulpit and began to practice his homily, and a few minutes later, he suddenly disappeared beneath the floor. He emerged from the basement disheveled and asked what happened. The contractor explained, “A trap door at the pulpit opens after eight minutes. Enough is enough.” Now there’s a lesson for preachers.

The word of God takes us back in our imaginations to the ninth century before Jesus (the 800s), to a man of God by the name of Elisha.  Here a foreigner, a Syrian army general, begs the prophet to heal him, to cure his skin disease. To the Syrian’s surprise, Elisha simply suggests that he bathe in the Jordan River. The Syrian eventually does so, is cured, and this foreigner praises the God of Israel.  This passage invites us to praise God for who he is, our all-good Creator, and what he does, the many blessings he bestows upon us.

Paul, in his letter to Timothy, speaks about the hardships he has endured for the sake of the Gospel. Wherever he goes, he fearlessly preaches Jesus Christ, once crucified and now gloriously alive. Paul invites us to give thanks for the gift of God’s life, bestowed upon us in the waters of baptism, nurtured in this liturgy, and ours forever in a transformed heavenly life.

In the Gospel according to Luke, Jesus heals ten people of leprosy. But only one, a foreigner, returns to give thanks to God.

Gratitude is an appropriate homiletic theme. And so I would like to highlight the grateful and faith-filled life of John Henry Newman, whom Pope Francis canonized in Rome today.

This nineteenth century Englishman spent the first half of his life as an Anglican (aka Episcopalian in the US) and the second half as a Roman Catholic. Born in London, Newman entered Oxford University at age fifteen, and eventually served as vicar of the university church for seventeen years. He published eight volumes of sermons, a study in Christian spirituality.

The high point of Newman's Anglican career was his influential role in the so-called Oxford movement, an intellectual effort to return to the sources of our faith--the Bible, the sacraments, belief statements, authority in the Church and  apostolic succession.

Newman's research eventually convinced him that Rome was the home of the true Church of Christ. In 1845, he was received into the Catholic Church. Two years later he was ordained a Catholic priest. Returning to England, Newman founded Oratory houses for priests in Birmingham and London and then served as rector of the Catholic University of Ireland, which inspired his landmark book The Idea of a University.

Newman wrote 40 books and 21,000 letters that survive. Most famous are his Apologia Pro Vita Sua (A Defense of His Life), Newman’s spiritual autobiography, and his classic Essay on The Development of Christian Doctrine, describing the continuity between what was revealed and believed in first century Christianity and what is believed now.

The fullness of revelation, Newman emphasized, resides in the person of Jesus Christ. Belief statements try to capture, but never fully, the inexhaustible reality of the God-man. Hence, Christianity must develop over the centuries just as we grow from childhood to adulthood. We change yet we're the same person God created. So too with Christianity. And there must be an authority on the truth or falsity of such developments.

Newman was a supporter of Christian unity at a time when Christianity was divided and religious bigotry commonplace.

In particular, he was a pioneer in emphasizing the active role of the laity: the “Spirit dwells in the Church and in the hearts of the faithful as in a temple.”

Newman's writings reflect the spirit of the Second Vatican Council (1962-65). The Church is always reform-able, holy yet made up of sinners.

Revelation is a person, Jesus Christ. In other words, God reveals himself to us in Jesus and we describe this revelation in belief statements, e. g. the Nicene creed. The Eucharist is “the summit toward which the activity of the Church is directed” and “the font from which all her power flows.” In the Eucharist we encounter Jesus Christ gloriously alive.

From this powerful font we go forth to serve the Lord in our everyday lives.

In special recognition for Newman’s dedicated work, Pope Leo XIII made him a Cardinal Deacon in 1879. Newman died in 1890.

 I highlight two awesome prayers by Newman: the first about purpose in life. Newman wrote:

“God has created me to do Him some definite service. He has committed some work to me which He has not committed to another. I have my mission. I may never know it in this life, but...I shall do His work...Therefore, I will trust Him, whatever, wherever I am.… If I am in sickness, my sickness may serve Him, in perplexity, my perplexity may serve Him...God knows what He is about. He may take away my friends. He may throw me among strangers. He may make me feel desolate, make my spirits sink, hide my future from me. Still, God knows what He is about.”

The second prayer holds one of my favorite images of God: light. Newman’s poem “The Pillar of the Cloud,” written while he recovered from a severe illness, was made a hymn. Here is a very recognizable verse of Newman’s poem:

“Lead, Kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom, Lead Thou me on!
The night is dark, and I am far from home, Lead Thou me on!
Keep Thou my feet; I do not ask to see the distant scene;
one step enough for me...
So long Your power hath blest me, sure it still will lead me on” into God's eternal light.
May we all recognize, in light of John Henry Newman’s canonization today, that we have a purpose in life and may the light of Jesus Christ lead us on...into our heavenly dwelling place.  Amen!