Sunday, December 30, 2007

What does your Holy Family look like? (Sunday homily)

This time of year, we all see the Hallmark-Card images
of family that are hard—
no, make that impossible!—to live up to.

So it was with my family, growing up;
probably yours, too, I imagine.
One of the best things I ever did
was to accept the reality of my family’s brokenness,
instead of the ideal that never was.

Speaking of “best things,”
my father says one of the best things he did,
as a husband, was to take mom out for a date
every Saturday night.

This goes with something Pope John Paul the first said:
“Parents begin to educate their children
by their love for each other.”
This is one reason why,
when married people come to confession,
I sometimes give this penance:
“Do something romantic for your spouse.”

But what the pope said calls to mind
something truly amazing:
God, in becoming a true human being,
an infant at Mary’s breast, growing up in a home,
learned about love from Mary and Joseph!

This is the mystery of the Incarnation:
God becoming like us in all things but sin.
He whom all heaven could not contain,
into Mary’s womb came to dwell.
The all-powerful Creator became a defenseless child!
The Ancient of Days learned about human life and love
from watching Joseph and Mary.

And you worry about what you teach your children!

On this Feast of the Holy Family,
let’s acknowledge some things:
Sometimes, in church, we talk so much about married life,
we neglect those who are single,
or those whose marriages ended in deep pain.

We often don’t know what to say.
Well, we could start with, “I’m not going to judge you;
and I do want to welcome you!”

Some people don’t “fit the mold”;
some can’t marry as God and nature define marriage.
It’s not our place to redefine marriage;
but it is certainly our place—indeed,
it’s absolutely our obligation before God—
to embrace everyone without mockery,
without ugliness, as Christ in our midst!

We hold up the Holy Family as an ideal;
but Christ knows well how “dysfunctional”
our families can be.
That’s why he came to be part of our human family!

You and I know about messages in society
and the media that threaten family life.

Let me say this:
Father Tom and Father Ang and I, and this parish—
we want to help!
Please tell us what we can do to help more!

You and I are also painfully aware of family troubles
we don’t like to talk about:
Alcoholism or other addictions;
anger, emotional abuse or physical violence;
depression or other emotional problems.

Yes, Christ took a beating on the Cross;
but he never inflicted such abuse on anyone—
and neither should we!

To make matters worse, some of these issues
aren’t dealt with openly,
but instead become shameful secrets,
wounds that never heal.


Don’t we call this the season of Light?
Christ offers his Light to heal these wounds.
Will we let him?

Christ, who came to carry the Cross
of all our human sinfulness,
will give you courage and walk beside each of us
on our own Way of the Cross. Will we let him?

Our second reading talks about the role
each of us has in our families.

Christ is the child among us—should he witness
parents berating and demeaning each other?

Christ the teenager: we have no idea what music he liked.
But do you think he would have tolerated music
that demeans women and exults violence?

Christ was a worker;
but he did not make work an excuse to neglect his family.

Christ the man saw women as Images of God,
not as servants, or imaginary partners on the Internet.

Christ was strong enough to bite his tongue;
he didn’t need fists or words to prove himself.

Men, are you and I “man enough”
to follow the leadership of Jesus Christ?

And Christ the healer never shamed anyone he met;
not the prostitute, not the tax-collector,
not the leper or the alien.

And he will never shame nor despise any of us
for our sins, our wounds, our secrets…
whatever they may be.

Yes, our families are far from the ideal.
But they, too, can be “holy families.”
Not because they look like a Christmas card,
but because we let Christ bring courage,
and healing, and hope:

Not to the families of our dreams,
but to the real family life we actually have.

7 comments:

Anonymous said...

Truly a magnificent homily, Father!
The Catholic church SO needs priests/parishioners with your mindset of compassion and respect for all, without judgment. This is indeed what being a Christian is about.

Annie

Katherine said...

I just wanted to say thank you for such a wonderful homily. We didn't get one on the Holy Family no less family yesterday as our Pastor decided to homilize on New Year resolutions instead. I am a stay-at-home mother to two and housewife and sometimes it is hard to see my Church as supportive. Last year mothers didn't even get a blessing on Mother's Day at our parish. Your homily was so refreshing it made me cry. Thank you.

Daniel said...

A most memorable reflection, perfectly written and direct, nuanced (properly) so I do not have to make complex relational explanations to my 6, 7 and 8 year olds.

But at the same time, objective and direct.

One for the ages. And one that will someday be in the office of readings for this date in 2208.

DigiHairshirt said...

Another home run homily, Father!

Mrs Jackie Parkes MJ said...

That is truly one of the most beautiful posts i've ever read..may God bless you for your insight & prayerfulness Fr..a very blessed New Year to you..

marymargaret said...

Thank you, Father. I know you would rather hear a better critique of this homily, but I can't critique something that speaks so clearly, kindly, and deeply to me. Sorry. May God bless you and keep you. Please keep speaking truth in charity. We don't hear it nearly as often as we should.

Mephibosheth said...

I linked to this almost immediately after it was posted, but I'm just now getting around to saying thanks. As a single man, one who perhaps "can't marry as God and nature define marriage," I appreciate the nod. But thanks, too, for not letting me stay there in self-admiration...the last two lines of your homily hurt, in a good way. I spend too much time obsessing about the family that might be, I fail to be thankful for, serve, and bless the family (and families) I have, messy though they be.