Tuesday, December 28, 2004

Epiphany Homily, 1/2/05

See final homily here at the OLA website. You can listen, too.




These were the preliminary notes, posted beforehand:

Readings for the Solemnity of the Epiphany

Scripture References:

Gospel -- Matthew 2:1-12
First Reading -- Isaiah 60:1-6
Second Reading -- Ephesians 3:2-3a, 5-6

The "chief priests and the scribes" were the professional "holy people" of that day. They were unmoved by the news of a newborn King that the Magi brought. These foreign pagan astrologers were moved enough to change their agendas and invest their wholes lives in the news brought by the star.

The great Danish philosopher, Soren Kirkegaard, has some pointed reflections on this:

Although the scribes could explain where the Messiah should be born, they remained quite unperturbed in Jerusalem. They did not accompany the Wise Men to seek him. Similarly we may know the whole of Christianity, yet make no movement. The power that moved heaven and earth leaves us completely unmoved.

What a difference! The three kings had only a rumor to go by. But it moved them to make that long journey. The scribes were much better informed, much better versed. They sat and studied the Scriptures like so many dons, but it did not make them move. Who had the more truth? The three kings who followed a rumor, or the scribes who remained sitting with all their knowledge?

What a vexation it must have been for the kings, that the scribes who gave them the news they wanted remained quiet in Jerusalem! We are being mocked, the kings might have thought. For indeed what an atrocious self-contradiction that the scribes should have the knowledge and yet remain still. This is as bad as if a person knows all about Christ and his teachings, and his own life expresses the opposite. We are tempted to suppose that such a person wishes to fool us, unless we admit that he is only fooling himself.

We -- I as a Catholic priest and pastor, and, frankly, anyone who is interested in reading this -- we are the "professional holy people" of our time. Are we missing the revelation of God's work today because we are so convinced of our own righteousness?

New Year's -- Solemnity of Mary, the Mother of God, 1/1/04

See final homily here at the OLA website. You can listen, too.



These were the preliminary notes, posted beforehand:

Note: this homily will be used for New Year's Eve 11:15 pm Mass.

Readings of the Day

Scripture References:

Gospel: Luke 2:16-21
First Reading: Numbers 6:22-27
Second Reading: Galatians 4:4-7


See Pope John Paul II, Message for World Day of Peace, 2005.

"This common grammar of the moral law requires ever greater commitment and responsibility in ensuring that the life of individuals and of peoples is respected and advanced. In this light, the evils of a social and political nature which afflict the world, particularly those provoked by outbreaks of violence, are to be vigorously condemned. I think immediately of the beloved continent of Africa, where conflicts which have already claimed millions of victims are still continuing. Or the dangerous situation of Palestine, the Land of Jesus, where the fabric of mutual understanding, torn by a conflict which is fed daily by acts of violence and reprisal, cannot yet be mended in justice and truth. And what of the troubling phenomenon of terrorist violence, which appears to be driving the whole world towards a future of fear and anguish? Finally, how can we not think with profound regret of the drama unfolding in Iraq, which has given rise to tragic situations of uncertainty and insecurity for all?

"To attain the good of peace there must be a clear and conscious acknowledgment that violence is an unacceptable evil and that it never solves problems. "Violence is a lie, for it goes against the truth of our faith, the truth of our humanity. Violence destroys what it claims to defend: the dignity, the life, the freedom of human beings". What is needed is a great effort to form consciences and to educate the younger generation to goodness by upholding that integral and fraternal humanism which the Church proclaims and promotes. This is the foundation for a social, economic and political order respectful of the dignity, freedom and fundamental rights of each person. "

Why don't we, who claim to Catholics, heed this? How would we be different if we did? "Violence destroys what is claims to defend: the dignity, the life, the freedom of human beings." Why do we keep justifying our reposnse to violence with further violence? War? Abortion? Capital punishment? What are the altenatives?

Thursday, December 23, 2004

Holy Family Homily 12/26/04

Here are the readings followed by the homily final text, followed by preliminary notes I posted as I prepared it. Any comments are still welcome.

Sunday Liturgical Readings

Feast of the Holy Family

Individual Scripture References

Gospel: Matthew 2:13-15, 19-23
First Reading: Sirach 3:2-6, 12-14
Second Reading: Colossians 3:12-21 (or 3:12-17)



Often Jesus, Mary, and Joseph are pictured as a "model" family in terms that impossible for any real family to identify with — the virginal relationship of husband and wife, a harmony unmarred by normal disagreements and tensions, and a child-God who never protested being washed behind the ears. The down-to-earth picture in this Gospel speaks directly to situations that are faced in some way by the majority of families in our society today: poverty, displacement, alienation, and fear. Joseph, Mary, and Jesus are a model family because they experienced the same struggles we encounter.

After returning to Nazareth, what was the family life of Jesus like? For sure, it was not the way it is usually pictured in statues, paintings, or holy cards. Gospel references to the “brothers and sisters” of Jesus give us a clue. These were either children of Joseph by a previous marriage or were other relatives, cousins or other who may have lived in the same household. Perhaps these brothers and sisters were a mixture of both.

It’s not unlikely that Joseph could have been married before, fathered children, and his wife had died, possibly in childbirth as was not uncommon in those days. In analyzing the words used to describe family relationships in Greek and Aramaic, many scholars also conclude that the word used in the Gospels for “brother,” in Greek, “adelphoi,” can just as well refer to other relatives or even members of a close-knit community. The one thing that’s just about certain is that Jesus was not raised in a tiny quiet three-person household. The childhood of Jesus was a lot more normal, involving intensive living together of a good number of extended family members, than most of the images on holy cards would suggest. It was dynamic, vibrant, and noisy, with undoubtedly lots of conflicts as well as intense loyalty and support -- all of which are characteristic of both ancient and modern families of Mediterranean cultures. And immensely loving, of course. If you saw the movie “My Big Fat Greek Wedding,” you caught a glimpse of that kind of family living.

Where the Holy Family then serves as a model for us today, is not in their difference, but in their similarity to most family situations that we face. When husband and wife commit themselves to each other, to be faithful in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, until death,” they are establishing a community of life in which new life is welcome. What any real commitment requires is a willingness to lay aside one’s own priorities and agendas, and put the good of others before one’s own. This can be done only if God is truly at the center.

And so our question this week is, can we do that? In our family life, in our relationships with others, in our community, can we let go of our own agendas, and let God be the Lord of our lives?



Notes I made in preparation for the homily.

Today (Wednesday, 12/22) I had to take a fairly long trip in the car and I listened to a wonderful recording of Berlioz L'Enfance du Christ (The Infancy of Christ. (This rare recording of Jean Martinon conducting soloists and the orchestra/chorus of the French National Radio is available at a bargain price from "Locked in the Vault Reissues" --scroll down to Vol 71. The text is freely available online.) This marvelous piece of music really rewards careful listening -- something that might be possible for most of us only in the concert hall or a long trip alone in the car. Berlioz doesn't depict the whole infancy stories as related in the Gospels of Matthew and Luke, but concentrates on Herod's raving and the family's flight into Egypt. It's very much a story for our time because Jesus, Mary and Joseph are given hospitality (and their lives are saved) by a generous family of Ishmaelites (the original Arab peoples, descended from Abraham's son, Ishmael, who kind of got a raw deal because he had the wrong mother; see Genesis 16-18:19; 21:1-21). In ancient times, hospitality, even toward a stranger, was seen as an important family value.

Another interesting insight, which will probably form the basis for my homily, is that given the high rate of mortality in childbirth, I think it is not unlikely that Joseph may have been married before and had other children, and was not necessarily an old man. In opposition to the image we usualy have of the holy family -- just the three of them -- isn't it more likely that Jesus was raised in a large and dynamic extended family household, where everybody knew and was involved in everyone else's business? A further perspective on his being normal, "like us in all things but sin." I suspect too, that means that normal childish naughtiness (like staying behind in Jerusalem without telling his parents) most likely isn't sinful!

The "brothers and sisters of Jesus" in the Gospels presents a perennial problem, especially if we hold, as the Church does, Mary's perpetual virginity. Fr. Pat Hartin, whom you may recall was the chaplain at the Claremont Colleges some years back and is one of the foremost scholars on the New Testament Letter of James, in his new book "James of Jerusalem," notes that there are three theories on the "brothers and sisters of Jesus":


  • The oldest (2nd century), held by most eastern Orthodox and Catholic theologians, is that they were half-brothers or step-brothers, children of Joseph by a previous marriage (which, as noted above, I think is most logical).
  • Another view, nearly as ancient (3rd century), held that the "brothers" were children of Mary and Joseph, younger siblings of Jesus. Of course, this is incompatible with the Catholic belief in the perpetual virginity of Mary (of which there is no direct scriptural evidence), and was condemned as heretical by St. Jerome. It was revived with modern critical studies of the New Testament, and is probably the most generally accepted Protestant view.
  • The third view was taught by St. Jerome (4th-5th century) to counter the second. He noted that the Greek word "brothers" can also refer to extended family members, such as cousins. This is the view most commonly held by western (Roman) Catholics. Note however, that the only thing taught de fide is Mary's perpetual virginity, and so one is free to accept the "half-brother" theory as more plausible -- as I do.
  • However, in clear support of "brothers" meaning extended family members, we find that two of the "brothers of Jesus" named in Mark 6:3, James and Joses (or Joseph), are identified as the sons of Mary the wife of Clopas, who stood at the foot of the cross. Also, in the narratives of the passion, it is evident that the mother of the sons of Zebedee (James -- a different James -- and John) is identified as Salome, the sister of Mary the mother of Jesus. (This Salome is no relation to the dancing girl over whom John the Baptist lost his head.) See Mark 15:40; Matthew 27:56; and John 19:25.

I think the import for us of these insights is that the childhood of Jesus was a lot more normal, involving intensive living together of a good number of extended family members, than most of the images on holy cards would suggest. It was dynamic, vibrant, and noisy, with lots of conflicts as well as intense loyalty and support -- all of which are characteristic of both ancient and modern families of Mediterranean cultures. And immensely loving, of course.

What other implications of this could be spelled out? (Hey, I'm an only child, so I identify more with the isolated threesome image.)


Saturday, December 18, 2004

Christmas Homily, 12/24-25/04

Here is the pretty much final text for my Christmas homily. I am presiding at the 3:30 pm Mass on Christmas Eve, and the Midnight Mass. Here are the readings for each of those Masses:

Christmas Vigil

Gospel, Matthew 1:1-25
First Reading, Isaiah 62:1-5
Second Reading, Acts 1:16-17, 22-26

Midnight
Gospel, Luke 2:1-14
First Reading, Isaiah 9:1-6
Second Reading, Titus 2:11-14


Throughout the centuries, humankind has searched for God under one guise or another. The varieties of religions and religious experiences – as well as the many substitutes for religion, both ancient and modern – speak of this unending quest. And yet we never seem to find God in a fully satisfying way, in a way that finally fulfills St. Augustine’s expression of longing, “Our hearts are restless until they rest in you, O Lord.”

The heart of the message of Christmas is that we cannot find God, and God knows that. So God has found us. We don’t have to search any more; God has found us in the place where we cannot avoid coming – the manger.

The significance of the manger is not just that it was a convenient substitute for a crib. It was the feeding trough for the animals. The word comes through French from the Latin “manducare,” meaning to eat. (You’re familiar with the root word if you have an Italian grandmother – “Mangia, mangia – eat, eat.” One of our local parishioner-owned restaurants has that name too, “Tutti Mangia” – all come and eat.)

And so the mystery of the incarnation, the “enfleshment” of God, the God who has found us, who has become human like us, is first revealed in a place where food is put for living creatures to eat. Can we have a more clear connection between the coming of Christ and the Eucharist? God has not only found us, he has come to be our nourishment, to satisfy our every hunger – because our every hunger is ultimately hunger for God.

In this “Year of the Eucharist,” which Pope John Paul designated from last October to next October, the Holy Father reminds us of an insight that comes from the very first days of the Church. When we celebrate the Eucharist, we are nourished from two tables, the Table of the Word and the Table of the Sacrament. It is the same Jesus, the Son of God whom we first encountered in the manger, who comes to us and nourishes us, who satisfies our hunger. At the Table of the Word, in the proclamation of his word in Scripture, he comes to satisfy our hunger for meaning, to bring understanding and wisdom into our darkness and confusion. And at the Table of the Sacrament, he comes under the form of ordinary food, bread and wine, he comes in his sacrificial death and resurrection, he comes to satisfy our hunger for God’s unconditional love, we are no longer alone, we are given the pledge of loving union and fulfillment that will never end.

The Holy Father has also called the Eucharist the manifestation of the Church, for in our communion with Jesus Christ, we are in communion with one another as well. What we truly are, members of his body, is openly proclaimed and the bonds of our unity with all other members of his body are strengthened. If we open our hearts to Jesus, he will open our hearts to his brothers and sisters as well.

We come here to be nourished at the twin Tables of Word and Sacrament, but in so doing we are transformed. If we let the Lord find us and nourish us here, he will transform us as well. We will go from here different than when we came. How different? If we let him, Jesus will open our eyes, as he opened the eyes of the blind, to see him where he is looking for us – in those who are still hungry and suffering in our world. “What you do to the least of my brothers or sisters, you do to me.”

And so, we are called to the manger. The infant Jesus does not want us just to gaze admiringly, but to come, and eat. Eat the body of his sacrifice, drink the blood of the New Covenant, poured out for us. Become one with him, as he has found us and become one with us. Be fed with the new hope of his loving presence, and be filled with his compassion that he may use us as instruments to touch, heal and nourish those in our world who continue to hunger for the God who has already found us.


--------------------------------
Additional notes:

I love the Gospel reading for the Vigil, even though most everyone else seems to hate it. To one who is familiar with our Old Testament heritage -- as we all all ought to be! (or make a New Year's resolution to become) -- these names evoke a striking panoramic picture of the great (and some not so great) ancestors of ours in faith. These are our own family ancestors, and we ignore them at the risk (a great risk) of a malnourished and superficial faith. The reading from Acts (St. Paul's address in the synagogue at Pisidian Antioch) follows the pattern of many of the speeches in Acts: delving into the history of God's dealings with people in the past to illuminate the mystery and the meaning of Jesus' coming and mission. Isaiah's beautiful image of Israel (and us!) as God's very own cherished and beloved bride is very striking in its own right (even attributing erotic delight to God!), but I don't yet see it connecting really well to what the Gospel and the Acts readings are saying. I'm sure connections will come with further reflection. Any ideas?

The Fr. Raymond Brown's monumental book, The Birth of the Messiah, tells just about all there is to know about the genealogies in both Matthew (1:1-17) and Luke (3:23-34). Here's a rundown on the ancestors of Jesus in Matthew:

Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and Judah are well-known figures in the Old Testament, whose stories are recounted in Genesis 12-50. Judah, one of the twelve sons of Jacob (whose name was also Israel, see Genesis 32:29), was the ancestor of the largest and most powerful of the twelve tribes of descendants (see Genesis 49:8-12). Perez and Zerah were twins born to Tamar, Judah's daughter-in-law, after she deceived him into thinking she was a prostitute (see Genesis 38).

Hezron, son of Zerah, is named in the list of Judah's descendants who migrated to Egypt with Jacob's whole family (see Genesis 46:12). Ram (or Aram), the son of Hezron, is listed as the father of Amminadab, who is referred to as one of those wandering in the desert after Moses led the Israelites out of Egypt, about 400 years after Jacob's family had migrated there. Matthew compressed that whole period into two generations. Nahshon, Amminadab's son, was an important leader of the tribe of Judah during the 40-year wandering in the desert (see Numbers 2:3; 7:12-17).

In the genealogy at the end of the Book of Ruth (4:18-22 as well as a much more detailed genealogy in 1 Chronicles 2), Salmon is listed as the son of Nashon and the father of Boaz, but he is not mentioned anywhere else. The indication that Rahab was the mother of Boaz is problematic, since she lived about 200 years earlier (see Joshua 2:1-24; 6:22-25). Again Matthew compresses a rather long time, the period of the Judges, into a single generation. The story of Ruth and Boaz is found in the Book of Ruth, and the concluding genealogy (4:18-22) lists the succession of Boaz, Obed and Jesse, the father of David.

The stories of David, Bathsheba the wife of Uriah, and Solomon are well known (see especially 1 Samuel 16; 2 Samuel 11-12; 1 Kings 1-11).

Solomon did not end his life in favor with the Lord, and his son Rehoboam could not hold the kingdom together. A rebellion in the north, led by Jeroboam, Solomon's servant, split the kingdom in two parts, Israel in the north , and Judah in the south. Rehoboam remained king in Judah (see 1 Kings 11-12.), succeeded by his son Abijah (or Abijam in some versions; see 1 Kings 15:1-8), neither of whom were regarded as faithful monarchs. Asaph undoubtly refers to Asa, Abijah's son and successor as king; and his son and successor was Jehoshaphat (see 1 Kings 15:24). He and Asa his father were regarded as good kings (see 1 Kings 22:43) but flawed. His son Joram (or Jehoram; see 1 Kings 22:51) was not such a good king, having married the daughter of Ahab and Jezebel (2 Kings 9:16-24). Chronicles adds that he murdered his brothers and died of a lingering illness of the bowels (see 2 Chronicles 21). Uzziah (or Azariah) was not the son of Joram, but his great-great grandson; Matthew compressed three generations and 60 years here. (See 2 Kings 14:21; 15:1-5.) His reign was prosperous, but he was regarded as punished with leprosy for arrogance (see 2 Chronicles 26). Little is recorded of his son Jotham (see 2 King 15:32-38), but his son Ahaz (see 2 KIngs 16) compromised with the king of Assyria, which helped bring down the downfall of Judah not long after. His policies were strongly opposed by Isaiah, and occasioned the famous messianic prophecy of Isaiah 7:14. His son Hezekiah (see 2 Kings 18-20) was regarded as a devout religious reformer who resisted the Assyrian threat, but his son Manasseh (Genesis 41:51) was one of the worst kings of all. He reverted to idolatry and human sacrifice, as well as political compromise with the Assyrians (see 1 Kings 21). Amos (or Amon) was just as bad, and soon assassinated (see 1 Kings 21:19-26), while his young son Josiah attempted both religious and political reform (see 2 Kings 22-23). Jechoniah (or Jehoiachin; see 1 King 24:8-17) was actually the grandson of Josiah, and the king under whom the Babylonians finally conquered Judah and led its citizens off to captivity in 587 BC.

Shealtiel is a figure about whom nothing is known exept his appearance in several genealogies (in Haggai, Ezra, Nehemiah, and 1 Chronicles) which give contradictory information, not unexpected in the social upheaval of the Babylonian captivity. Zerubbabel ("born in Babylon"), on the other hand, was a major figure in the postexilic period of rebuilding (see Ezra 2:2, and a number of other references).

The names from this point on appear not to have a direct Scriptural source. After the immediate post-exilic period (about 538 BC), documented in Ezra and Nehemiah, there is no consistent historical scriptural record of the years covered by these names. Matthew's sources may have been hsitorical documents that were not preserved, legends, and traditions. some of the names have symbolic reference to earlier times, e.g. Zadok and his son, Ahimaaz (here Achim?) were priests under both David and Solomon. Matthew may have included them to reinforce Jesus' priestly role. Also, Jacob and Joseph certainly seem to echo the patriarchs of the second part of Genesis.







Wednesday, December 15, 2004

Fourth Sunday of Advent, Year A, 12/19/04

Here's the draft of my homily that I'm working on for this Sunday.

Sunday Liturgical Readings:

Fourth Sunday of Advent, A

Individual Scripture References:

Isaiah 7:10-14
Romans 1:1-7
Matthew 1:18-24

What's in a name? Think for a moment about your name. What does it mean? Why did your parents give it to you? Do you like it? Do you think your name identifies the real you? Do you have more than one name? Does each one have a story, or refer to an important relationship in your family? Do you have a nickname? What does it say about you? Do you have a special name that is known only to a few people, or maybe just one very special person? If you could choose a better name, one that is more "you," what would it be? Why? What would that name say about you?

Our readings today play with names. The quote from Isaiah that "the virgin shall conceive and bear a son" is often seen to foretell the virginal conception and birth of Jesus, but it really doesn't do that. The Hebrew word can also mean any young woman, and there's no indication in the text itself that the meaning was anything other than natural human generation. But the real point of the quote is in the name that is given to the son, "Emmanuel," which means "God with us."

Among people of the ancient world, every king was regarded as a special manifestation of God. In some way, the king was seen as "God-with-us." Yet all the kings of Israel, including the great King David himself, were deeply flawed men. In far too many of them, wickedness, deceit, greed, and deep insecurity and cowardice far exceeded any virtues they had that might make them signs of God's presence. For centuries, this prophecy of Isaiah remained unfulfilled, not because none of the kings had been born of a virgin, but because clearly none of them could be seen as "Emmanuel," an embodiment of God's presence for his people.

And so, when Matthew speaks of the coming of Jesus in his Gospel, he looks back at this prophecy of Isaiah, who was expressing the hope of a people, living in a time of violence and corruption under one of the worst kings of all, Ahaz. At last, Matthew says, we have in Jesus the true Emmanuel, the one who would be most perfectly "God-with-us."Although people today are named Emmanuel or Manuel or Manny, this never really was a name. Back then, nobody names their kids "Emmanuel." It was a title; it described a function; it said what his job was -- to be the presence of God for his people.

So, in Matthew, we hear the angel telling Joseph to name Mary's baby Jesus, and so he does. This was really his name, and Jesus was a fairly common name in those times. Well, not quite. If you and I were miraculously transported back to first century Galilee, and we saw Jesus walking down the main street of Nazareth, and we called out, "Hey, Jesus," do you think he'd turn around? Well, maybe he would, to stare at these funny looking creatures dressed in strange costumes spouting unintelligible gibberish. But he wouldn't recognize that word as his name. Our present spelling and pronunciation are the result of nearly two-thousand years of evolution though a variety of languages to get to present-day English. So, what was his name, the name the angel told Joseph to give him?

Well, if we pronounced it "Yeshua," he might have recognized it, although he'd surely laugh at our funny accent. Another, more common form of that same name in English is "Joshua." It means "Yahweh (or God) is help" or "Yahweh is salvation." Now, Yahweh was name God gave for himself to Moses at the scene of the burning bush. It was a name so holy that no Jew would ever pronounce it, substituting an abbreviation "Yah" or saying "Lord" instead.Of course the name Yeshua immediately recalled Joshua, the great successor of Moses in the Old Testament, the one who led the people of Israel from their exile in the desert across the Jordan River into the Promised Land and cleared the way for them to settle there. It's pretty obvious that Jesus was intentionally named after this great hero of Israel's past, and that he too would save his people after the fashion that Joshua had. So the original name of Jesus, Yeshua, fit him very well for the role he was play as savior of all humankind.

Finally, I have to explore one more word which is so familiar that most people don't pay a lot of attention to it. It's used in the first line of the Gospel, "This is how the birth of Jesus Christ came about." Some people think Christ is Jesus' last name, just like Welbers is my last name. In fact, some years back, someone asked me in all seriousness: "Father, I've always wondered, since Christ was Jesus' last name, why don't we say Joseph Christ and Mary Christ?" Most of us, however, are aware that Christ is not a name, but a title. It comes through Greek and Latin from the Hebrew word, Messiah, meaning "the Anointed One." It's usually more proper in English to say, "Jesus the Christ," just like a proud mother would introduce "my son, the doctor." Mel Gibson got it right when he titled his picture "The Passion of the Christ" instead of "The Passion of Christ."

I suspect that most of us could properly identify Christ as meaning "Anointed" on a multiple choice exam question, but I wonder how many of us really appreciate what the word really meant to the Jewish people of Jesus' day. Kings, prophets, and priests were anointed as signs of their role in relation to God and his people. But anointing wasn't just dabbing a little smudge of oil on the forehead. Imagine next January 20 on a platform on the west front lawn of the U.S. Capitol, the Chief Justice ceremoniously pouring a gallon jug of perfumed oil on the president's head, letting it drip down his body and soak into his hair and clothes, even seep into his shoes. The "anointed one" would certainly radiate a distinctive presence perceptible to all the senses, including touch and smell. There would be no mistaking that there was something new and distinctive about him.

In the Old Testament times, priests were anointed to butcher and burn animals in sacrifice, prophets were anointed to try to convey divine meaning in limited human word-pictures, and kings were anointed to shepherd, not fleece and exploit, the flock of God's people. All fulfilled their roles imperfectly, even sinfully. The hints of the prophets had awakened a longing for an Anointed One, a Messiah, a Christ -- one who would get the job right!

And he came -- Jesus, God-with-us, Savior.

I would appreciate any comments or suggestions you might have about this homily draft. To make a comment, click on "comments" below, and then on "Post a Comment." Unless you want to register and login, just click on the "anonymous" button. Please be sure to sign your name to your comment. During the rest of the week I will post revisions to the above homily as insights occur to me from your suggestions.

Thanks, Tom