October 22, 2020
Paulist Fr. Rich Andre preached this homily for the 28th Sunday of Ordinary Time (Year A) on October 11, 2020 at St. Austin Parish in Austin, TX. The homily is based on the day’s readings: Isaiah 25:6-10; Psalm 23; Philippians 4:12-14, 19-20; and Matthew 22:1-14.
In our first reading, Isaiah presents heaven as a banquet at which there will be no tears and no separation from our loved ones. What a beautiful message of consolation! That’s why it’s commonly chosen for funerals. The banquet described by Jesus in our gospel, however, is not so consoling. While God invites everyone to the banquet, we need to accept God’s invitation. Not only must we accept it, but we must also be open to the Holy Spirit allowing that invitation to continually transform us!
We’ll talk a little bit more about the gospel passage in today’s homily, but I hope to focus us on our second reading. It seems like a message perfectly suited to this pandemic. St. Paul speaks to the Philippians about being able to live through circumstances of both abundance and scarcity. He promises that “God will fully supply” whatever we need. In this time of instability, uncertainty, and anxiety, let us ask God to shower us once again with grace and mercy!
People in religious orders get asked one question all the time: What do the letters at the end of your name stand for? Franciscans joke that “OFM” stands for “Old Fat Men.” One vertically-challenged sister of the Adorers of the Precious Blood says that “ASC” stands for “A Short Catholic.” Redemptorist Cardinal Joe Tobin says that “CSsR” stands for “Carefully Selected Sermons, Repeated.”
So, what does the “CSP” at the end of my name stand for? It technically means “Congregation of St. Paul,” but we Paulists have come up with many funny alternatives: “Can’t Show Patience,” “Community of Semi-Protestants,” “Curl Set Perm,” and perhaps most accurately, “Can’t Stop Preaching.” I’ll sometimes say that for me, it stands for “Community Scapegoat of the Paulists.” But there’s another one we occasionally joke about: “Congregation of Semi-Pelagians.”
Pelagianism is an ancient heresy. A monk named Pelagius argued that all people could simply choose to do good on their own – there was no need to receive God’s grace to be good. After Pelagianism was condemned by the Church in the 5th century, a “softer” version of the same heresy cropped up pretty quickly. Semi-Pelagianism acknowledges that our first call to holiness is from God, but then it argues that we can do the work of growing in holiness on our own, without continually relying on grace, on the intercession of the Holy Spirit.
In his exhortation Gaudete et Exsultate (47-62), Pope Francis argues that various forms of Pelagianism and Semi-Pelagianism are rampant in the Church today. I believe that many of our values in the United States are very Pelagian and Semi-Pelagian. Think about it. We’re into rags-to-riches stories that claim that people can make it on their own. We have a lucrative self-help industry. I have to admit that those values sometimes seep into my spirituality: when I look over a draft of my Sunday homilies – or, even worse, when I sit down after preaching at daily Mass – I sometimes realize how Semi-Pelagian my homily was. Too often, I recommend something we can do to grow in holiness, without acknowledging that we continually need the grace of the Holy Spirit to accomplish it.
Maybe we can understand this challenging gospel passage as refuting both Pelagianism and Semi-Pelagianism. Jesus makes it clear: God takes the first step by inviting all people to the heavenly banquet, but people can choose to reject that invitation. And as the man without a wedding garment illustrates, after we have accepted God’s invitation, we still need to continue to be open to the promptings of the Holy Spirit.
Maybe our reflections on Pelagianism and Semi-Pelagianism can also help us interpret our second reading, especially in the midst of this pandemic.
Paul tells the Philippians that he has experienced times of feast and times of famine, times of abundance and times of need. That’s putting it mildly. He’s writing to them from the confines of jail. The Philippians may also know that Paul has survived torture and beatings, robbery attempts, extreme weather, three shipwrecks, and countless sleepless nights worrying about those he’s brought to the faith (2 Corinthians 11:23-28). How has he survived the hard times? He explains to the Philippians with this well-known line: “I can do all things in him who strengthens me.”
This pandemic is affecting all of us, but each of us in very different ways: sickness, economic uncertainty, isolation, stress, grief. Then we add the anxiety of the election season, a growing awareness of the injustices suffered by people of color, wildfires, hurricanes. For many of us, this is a time of need, rather than a time of abundance. Can God strengthen us to do all things?
Despite all the hard times that Paul has experienced, his happiness shines through. He declares, “Rejoice in the Lord always! I shall say it again: rejoice!” Paul is grateful for the Philippians’ enthusiastic faith, for their financial support, and for their love. Maybe that’s part of how Paul is strengthened by God to do all things.
How do we get some of Paul’s confidence, especially in this year that continues to beat so many of us down? Perhaps we need to examine our Pelagian and Semi-Pelagian thinking. Do we think that we have to do it all on our own? Even as a priest, there are times when I’m feeling dejected and it doesn’t occur to me to drop everything and pray for a few minutes. When I’m talking with one of my spiritual directors about the stresses in my life, it’s amazing how often my director asks, “Have you talked with God about this?” …and I realize that I haven’t. My spiritual directors are also quick to point out when I’ve received God’s graces through the people around me … but I’ve failed to notice.
Are you open to the graces you receive from God, or do you have Semi-Pelagian tendencies, too? No matter how often we delude ourselves into thinking we can take care of ourselves, we must continually rely on God’s grace. We can’t just accept God’s grace in the sacraments. We also have to open ourselves up to the promptings of the Holy Spirit at all other times, in all other places, and through all other people. As one friend suggested, maybe CSP can come to stand for “Community of those Still Praying”!
Or, as Paul wrote to his beloved Philippian community. “Have no anxiety at all, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, make your requests known to God. Then the peace of God that surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.”
“I can do all things in him who strengthens me.”