Friday, June 29, 2007

13th:Sunday of Ordinary Time: The Adventure of St. Al's

Farewell Homily for St. Al's Parish - Second Draft
(A new assignment at St. Michael Chruch, Ripley, Ohio and St. George Church, Georgetown, Ohio begins on July 2nd)

Today’s gospel,
about leaving home and family,
brings to mind
a conversation with a young man from our parish
this past week.

His name’s Jon and he’s home from college
with a summer job driving a delivery truck.

His boss, evidently, recognizes a good worker when he sees one.
He keeps asking Jon about his career plans.

“I don’t know what to tell him,” Jon says to me.
“I don’t want a career.
I want adventure.”

I look at Jon and tell him:
“I know exactly what you’re talking about.”

“You do?” he asks.
“You bet,” I say.
“It’s the reason I became a priest.”

* * *

Now, some of you here today
might not associate a religious vocation
with a life of adventure,
but I do.

Listen to the words in today’s gospel
and you’ll know why:

“Foxes have dens and birds have nests
but the Son of Man has nowhere to rest his head.”

That’s a call to adventure.
That’s a call to be ready to respond
at a moment’s notice.

In other words,
if you like creature comforts…
if you’re satisfied with the way things are…
don’t bother to apply.Now, as soon as the Lord says this,
someone hollers from the crowd,
“Lord, I want to follow you.
Let me say good-be to my family.”
His reply?

“You’re out of here, man!
If you’re going to look back,
you’re not fit to come along.”

Jesus makes it real clear:
Give all you got
or get left behind.

The risks are high,
the sacrifice great.

No doubt about it,
the call to adhere yourself
to Christ is a call to adventure.

My point here is that Jesus doesn’t deal in career options.
He’s not interested in your resume.

Rather, he hands you the cross,
looks you in eye and asks,
“Are you up to it?”

* * *

That’s what he asks of you,
that what he asks of me.

To follow Christ means to offer
all you are
and all have
and be ready to respond at a moment’s notice.


When the Lord sent me here to St. Al’s
I was given the charge to join you in an adventure,
the adventure of walking with you before the face of God.


an adventure that encompassed the effort
of helping you teach your children right from wrong
in a society enamored of sin
the adventure of hearing the Word of God
in a 24-hour world of bad news
the challenge of clinging to the Sacraments of the Church
at a time in history
when nothing—not even human love—is considered holy.

The call is tough,
the call is real,
the call is vital.

The call of the Gospel is nothing
if not a call to adventure.

(You know, now and then the Lord looks at me and asks,
“You still up it?”
I swallow head, he nods and says,
“Keep going.”)

* * *

Today, I want to tell you what a privilege it’s been
to share the adventure with you here at St. Al’s.

You are a wonderful parish
and I hope I served you well.

Over the last six years
you’ve invited me into your homes
and taken me with you to work.

I’ve celebrated with you
the joy of baptizing your children.

I’ve prayed for your salvation
and the release of your burdens and sins.

I’ve urged you to see the face of Christ
in co-workers on the job site
and strangers on the street.

I’ve counseled you
in times of uncertainty and fear.

I’ve led you in worship of the living God

* * *

And you, in turn, returned the favor.

Again and again,
you revived my hope through the witness of your faith.

You showed me the goodness of the Church
in a time of scandal and despair.

You showed me the power of love
in your dedication to the poor.

You showed me the energy of the Holy Spirit
in the countless activities, projects and programs
that make up the life of this active and vibrant parish.

Again and again,
you showed me the face of Christ

when I visited your homes

when I prayed with you in the hospital

when I joined you at graveside

when I heard you call out to God in your deepest needs

* * *

It’s true what the Lord says:
Foxes have their dens, the birds have their nests.

But through his grace
I’ve come to know that,
when you walk with others before the face of God,
home is everywhere you go.

You and me—we’ve walked the road together.

It’s been a privilege for me to share the journey with you.

It’s been an honor…
an adventure beyond compare.








[First Draft follows]

Today’s gospel,
about leaving home and family,
brings to mind
a conversation I had
with a young man from our parish
this past week.

Jon’s home from college
with a summer job driving a delivery truck.

His boss keeps
asking him about his career plans.

“I don’t know what to tell,” he said.
“I don’t want a career.
I want adventure.”

He went on to talk about how making money doesn’t interest him,
but lending a hand to those in does:
rebuilding houses destroyed by Hurricane Katrina,
teaching Bible classes to those in prison,
being a Big Brother to a kid without a dad…
these are the things he’s doing in college
and there’re the things that bring him fulfillment.

He wants more than a career,
he wants an adventure.

“My boss just shakes his head,”
Jon said.
“He doesn’t understand.”

“But I do,” I told him.
“I know exactly what you’re talking about.
It’s the reason I became a priest.”

* * *

Now, some of you here today
might not associate a religious vocation
with a life of adventure,
but I do.

Listen to the words in today’s gospel
and you’ll know why:

“Foxes have dens and birds have nests
but the Son of Man has nowhere to rest his head.”

In other words,
if you like creature comforts,
don’t even bothering to apply.Someone hollers from the crowd,
“Lord, I want to follow you.
Let me say farewell to my family.”
How does Jesus reply?

“You’re out of here!
If you’re going to look back,
you’re not fit to come along.”

Give all you got
or get left behind.

He makes it real clear:
the risks are high,
the sacrifice great.

No doubt about it,
the call to adhere yourself
to Christ is a call to adventure.

Jesus doesn’t deal in career options.
He’s not interested in your resume.

Rather, he hands you the cross,
looks you in eye and asks,
“Are you up to it?”

* * *

That’s what he asks of you,
that what he asks of me.

And that’s why he sent me to this parish:
to walk with you before the face of God
and join in the adventure…

the adventure of teaching your children right from wrong
in a society enamored of sin;

the quest to discern the Word of God
in a 24-hour world of bad news;

the challenge to cling to the sacraments of the Church
at a time in history
when nothing—not even human love—is considered holy.

Now and then, the Lord looks at me and asks,
“Are you up it, Jim?
You’re still up it, aren’t you?”

I’m here to tell you,
when I was ordained a priest a quarter century ago,
I never thought it’d be so hard.

But then again, I never dreamt it would such an adventure.

And it’s been a privilege to share the adventure with you.

This is why I came to you:
to join you, for a time, on the road to heaven,
to walk beside you and point out the grace along the way.

I’ve urged you to recognize the face of Christ
in your co-workers,

I’ve prayed that you would know his forgiveness
when you sinned

I’ve celebrated with you the joy
at the birth of a child

I’ve counseled you to put your trust in Jesus
in times of uncertainty and fear.

I’ve led you in worship of the living God

The reason I came was to walk at your side,
for a brief while,
before the face of God.

* * *

And you, in turn, returned the favor.

Again and again,
you revived my hope
in the many ways you together
to keep St. Al’s a strong and vital community.

You strengthened my faith
in your dedication to the poor,
in your search for truth about God
in your efforts to share your faith with others.

Again and again,
you have shown me the power of faith at work:

when I visited your homes

when I prayed with you in the hospital

when I joined you at graveside

when I heard you call out to Christ in your deepest need.

* * *

It’s true what the Lord says:
Foxes have their dens, the birds have their nests.

But through his grace and the acceptance of his call,
I’ve come to know that
when you walk with others before the face of God,
home is everywhere you go.

You and me—we’ve walked the road together.

It’s been a privilege for me;
an adventure beyond compare.