Homily for 9 June 2019

9 June 2019

Solemnity of Pentecost

In 1966 there was a musical that came out called “Mame.”  It was set in 1929, right at the time of the stock market crash, and the start of the Great Depression.  And in the midst of that depression, the characters look ahead to December, and they start singing a song about Christmas to cheer themselves up.

“Haul out the holly; put up the tree before my spirit falls again!  Fill up the stocking!  I may be rushing things, but decks the halls again now!  For we need a little Christmas right this very minute!  Candles in the window, carols at the spinet!  Yes, we need a little Christmas right this very minute!”

And what they’re doing is calling upon the Spirit of that celebration, that season, to come visit them in their time of need.  In some ways, you could see this as a song about Pentecost: Come, Holy Spirit, come!  Set us on a better path, a good path!  Renew us, lift us up in hope!  We need a little Pentecost (or a big Pentecost!) right now!

When the disciples were “all together in one place,” they were waiting, just like Jesus told them to.  He’d left, he’d ascended to Heaven, but there they were, maybe feeling a little lost and uncertain—not without hope, but just…waiting.  What now?  Where do we go from here?

And that’s where we find ourselves today.  We look at our Catholic Church, we look at our country, we look at (maybe) ourselves as individuals, and it feels like we’re…waiting.  Waiting for answers to our questions.  Waiting for solutions to our problems.  Waiting for inspiration to change habits that might need changing.  We’re waiting, just like those disciples—we need a little Pentecost…right now!

Now, we know what the Spirit of Christmas brings.  It brings good cheer, peace, love, joyfulness of heart, thankfulness, light, hope, abundance, comfort.  And we know what the Spirit of Pentecost brings.  It brings everything the Spirit of Christmas brings, but also certain other gifts like: wisdom, knowledge, and understanding; counsel, fortitude, piety, and the disposition to pay attention to the Lord.  And we need all of that.  We need a little Pentecost, right now, today.

We look at our Catholic Church, and we see it’s like a beautiful painting, like the Mona Lisa—except that she’s been damaged.  Her frame is broken and off kilter, there are holes poked in the canvas, and somebody spattered some paint remover on her, so now she’s…disfigured.  You can still tell it’s the Catholic Church but, boy, is she a mess.

Too many politics at play—in all her ranks.  Too much deception and too many grossly poor judgments in her leadership.  Some of her clergy were in cahoots with the devil, using and abusing those children of God entrusted to their care.  Too much legalism, too much judgment, not enough compassion, too many Pharisees still floating around.

The Church is still there, for sure.  There is love and compassion, there is the truth spoken and taught.  There is beauty and honesty, humility, and many valiant fights against the devil.  There are good and faithful shepherds, there are good and faithful people.  But she’s been disfigured, and we’re…waiting; waiting for answers, waiting for solutions, waiting for a new day to dawn.  We need a little Pentecost, right now!

We look at our country and it, too, is like a work of art, say…the Statue of Liberty.  Except the statue’s been chipped and broken, its metal plates are dented, the internal frame is weakened, and she’s had paint splattered all over her.  She’s still there, you can tell it’s our country, but she’s kind of a mess, too.

Too many bad politics, harmful politics.  Too much vengeance in all her ranks, seeking to destroy others rather than build the country up.  Taking the notion of freedom and twisting it such that the notion of civil law is somehow a threat to freedom.  Freedom to kill a child in the womb; freedom to kill a child that’s been born; freedom to silence others’ free speech; freedom to defy law; freedom to seek my own life, liberty, and happiness at the expense of others’ life, liberty, and happiness.  Freedom to do whatever I want; freedom to be an unthinking, unreflective savage.

The country’s still there, for sure.  There still is common sense out there.  There are truth and respect for basic human values and rights.  There is beauty, humble service for the good of others.  There are good leaders, and good people.  The country is there, but her frame is being hacked away at all the time.  She needs some major TLC.  We need a little Pentecost for her, right now, too!

Of course, then there’s us.  We’re like a plant—not like a hearty perennial that just grows on its own, but more like a delicate annual that needs more attention.  We look at ourselves, we look at our leaves, our blossoms, our roots, our stem.  And, you know, we’re a little droopy here and there.  When there’s a call for volunteers, sometimes it’s like pulling teeth (only I think pulling teeth is easier!).  When there’s a need for liturgical ministers, where’s the response?  When there’s a call for vocations to the priesthood, the diaconate, and consecrated life, where is everybody? 

We’re not one of those hearty perennials that just sort of takes care of itself.  We’re like an annual, that needs a lot more time and effort to make it grow.  Only instead of a dose of water and sunlight, we need a shot of what comes from God; those gifts of the Holy Spirit—wisdom, understanding, and knowledge, counsel, fortitude, piety, and the disposition to pay attention to the Lord.  We need a little Pentecost, right now!

And all this waiting and waiting for the Holy Spirit can be draining.  This constant, daily need to call on the Holy Spirit can be exhausting, tiring, and…all too routine.  But the good news is the sheer fact that we have the Holy Spirit to call on. 

When the disciples were “all together in one place,” and were waiting, they weren’t just twiddling their thumbs.  They weren’t saying to themselves, “Well, let’s just get on with life, nothing’s happening.”  No, they were waiting with…anticipation.  They were waiting with the full expectation and hope that the Spirit of God would be there to assist them.  There was no doubt in their minds.  And it’s because of that expectation, that openness of mind and heart, that the Holy Spirit could come to them.  The Spirit only comes where he’s welcomed and desired. 

And so, as we look around us, at our Catholic Church, at our country, at ourselves and our own needs, we wait for the Holy Spirit to come and set things right.  But we don’t wait sitting idly by.  We anticipate, we expect this gift from God.  Lord, we need a little Pentecost…right now!