HOMILY FOR MASS FOR MONDAY OF THE TWENTY-THIRD WEEK OF ORDINARY TIME, YEAR 253RD INTERNATIONAL EUCHARISTIC CONGRESS, QUITO, ECUADOR

SEÑOR DE LA ASCENSIÓN CONCEPCIÓN PARISH, LA PRIMAVERA, CUMBAYÁ, QUITO

“Stretch out your hand.” Simple words spoken to a man suffering from a withered hand—Luke tells us (Lk 6:6-11) it was his right one—which in the ancient world would have limited his ability to shake hands, do many jobs, earn a livelihood. It may well have left him a beggar. Worse than destitution, such a disability was understood in such ancient cultures as a sign of a deeper spiritual sickness, a curse, divine displeasure. God’s punishment of King Jeroboam for blasphemy was to make his right hand wither (1Kgs 13:3-5). Determined never to forget the holy city from his exile, the psalmist declares that “If I forget you, O Jerusalem, let my right hand wither!” (Ps 137:5). So a wasted hand meant not only destitution but becoming a social and spiritual outcast.

In our Gospel tonight Jesus encounters the man on the Sabbath, the Dies Domini, the Lord’s Day. He has just come from walking in the fields and, to the disgust of the Pharisees, He permitted His men to pick, roll and eat corn on the holy day (Lk 6:1-5). Jesus declares that He is the Lord of the Sabbath, and as its Lord He permits such things. Now He has come to the synagogue and He plans to heal the man with the withered hand which he knows will infuriate those same religious officials further. It was bad enough that His disciples did what they counted as work on the Day of Rest, but now their Master, a supposed holy man, was going to do so also. In full view of the Pharisees, He asks His newly-minted assistant to stand up in the midst of them all and take his hand out from its hiding place. Jesus then asks “Is it against the purpose of the Sabbath to do good or to do evil; to save life or destroy it?” It’s a clever question. If they say doing good is OK, then Jesus can go ahead and heal people on the Sabbath and who knows what lawlessness will follow… They don’t answer. So He heals the man, violating their strict interpretation of the Sabbatarian laws. Rather than rejoicing at God’s healing powers at work, the furious Pharisees star plotting how to get rid of Him.

The Jewish Sabbath was Saturday, recalling God’s resting on the last day of creation, when they too rested, and devoted their day to family, going to synagogue and worshipping their Creator. To this day some Jews take the prohibition on work so seriously that they will not switch on a light or press an elevator button on that day. The Christian Sabbath would be Sunday, recalling the first day of the new creation, when Jesus rose from the dead as a promise of immortality for us all. To this day Christians observe the day much as the Jews do, avoiding unnecessary labour, gathering with family, going to Church, and worshipping their Creator and Redeemer. But the “Lord of the Sabbath” has made all things new, and the Christian Sabbath now has at its heart the celebration of the Eucharist.

Here at Señor de la Ascensión and in other churches throughout the world, we keep holy our Sabbath Day by putting aside our mundane activities so as to focus on remembering, praising, thanking, receiving; so as to experience the Risen Christ, alive and truly present in His sacrament and in the Eucharistic assembly; so as to make the Day of the Lord the Day of the Church, the Day of the Sacrament, our day. In his apostolic letter Dies Domini, St John Paul II highlighted (#36) that healthy parishes have many different groups, movements and ministries—and I’m reliably informed that there are at least twenty in this parish reaching out to others. But as the Pope pointed out, among the many activities of a parish, none is as vital, as community-forming, as effective for outreach as the Sunday celebration of the Eucharist (#35). The International Eucharistic Congress for which you have so long prepared here in Quito, which you are now celebrating with such faith and beauty, and which will yield pastoral fruits for years to come, draws our attention to this like nothing else.

Some might say: I don’t need Christ to find God. I don’t need Church to be with Christ. I don’t need Sunday Mass to worship in my own way. Maybe. But is there any surer way to be close to God than to hear and be challenged and consoled by His word week by week, to be healed and empowered by His sacrament week by week, to be supported and missioned by His community week by week? He didn’t think we could go it alone, so why should we? And can we ever be more intimate with Him than when we receive His very substance into ourselves?

So “Come back to me, in Confession and Communion,” Jesus says, “and stretch out your broken heart or withered soul, that I might touch and heal and make you whole. Bring me all your infirmities—physical, financial, emotional, psychological, spiritual—and let me ‘Sunday’ them. Let Me give you everything I am, My Flesh and Blood, My Body and Soul, My Humanity and Divinity, all of it, to make you whole and holy. I love you that much!”

INTRODUCTION TO MASS FOR MONDAY OF THE TWENTY-THIRD WEEK OF ORDINARY TIME, YEAR 2 – 53RD INTERNATIONAL EUCHARISTIC CONGRESS, QUITO, ECUADOR | EL SEÑOR DE LA ASCENSIÓN CONCEPCIÓN – LA PRIMAVERA, CUMBAYÁ

Bienvenidos a la misa de esta noche. Me llamo Anthony Fisher (en español: Antonio Pescador Magurgeui), soy el Arzobispo de Sydney, Australia, y es un gran placer estar aquí con todos ustedes en Quito para el Congreso Eucarístico Internacional. Quiero agradecer a su arzobispo, Alfredo José Espinoza Mateus, a su párroco Padre Jorge Vasquez, y a todos ustedes por invitarme a celebrar misa aquí en esta maravillosa parroquia: El Señor de la Ascensión – La Primavera, Cumbayá. Lamentablemente, debo disculparme porque la misa de hoy será en inglés y no en español. Perdónenme.