March 2024 – Tony Lusvardi, S.J.

An event unlike any other: homily for Easter Sunday

Homily for Easter Sunday 2024

What is a miracle? The word is used often and not always in a very precise way. A quick search on the Internet revealed exercises, mineral solutions, and even a perfume, all described as “miraculous.”

At least the word seems to be useful for advertising. Probably we have also heard stories from the Middle Ages or antiquity that tell of extraordinary events. And probably some are really miracles, others are legends. They are the special effects that storytellers from a time before movies used to make a story more fascinating, moving, or funny.

Speaking more precisely, a miracle is something that happens in this world caused by a power beyond this world. Miracles do not mean that the divine is absent from non-miraculous events, from everyday events. When a doctor uses his intelligence to save life, he is using a divine gift–intelligence–to cooperate with the purpose of God who wants to save life and not destroy it. When a woman gives birth it is not a miracle in the literal sense–it does not require a force beyond human biology–but I would say there is something divine about that event because it is a participation in the Creator’s work.

A miracle, however, requires a power that no creature possesses.

We know with certainty that there has been at least one miracle in the history of the universe, namely, the creation of the universe. No existing thing possesses the power to create everything from nothing. This power is the essence of a miracle. I haven’t smelled the miraculous perfume, but I doubt that it qualifies .

Today we celebrate the miracle of miracles–the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead. Since creation there has been no other event like this. It is the most important event in human history, an event so different from all other historical events that, even today, after almost two thousand years, it remains difficult to explain.

Homily for Passion Sunday

I recently read something in a book written by an American sociologist that struck me–and disturbed me. This sociologist is a very good scholar and has conducted studies in several different countries and written a number of topics. In one of these studies, as an aside, he mentioned that, in general, people care more about being normal than about being good. For the majority of people it is more important to feel normal than to be good.

This disturbing observation struck me because it seemed hard to deny. And the truth of this observation is evident on no other day more than on this one, Palm Sunday. The celebration begins with Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem. The people welcome him as a hero, as a king. They throw their cloaks before him and cheer him enthusiastically, “Hosanna!” And in the space of a week, the same crowd will shout with the same enthusiasm, “Crucify him!”

On no other day do we feel so acutely the fickleness of the crowd or the inconstancy of the human heart.

New journal!

It might seem that there’s nothing new under the sun in the world of theology, but that’s not the case. This spring, The New Ressourcement journal launched its first issue. The journal is sponsored by Word on Fire Academic, one of the many great ministries founded by Bishop Robert Barron. In fact, Bishop Barron has an article in the first issue. The editorial staff is an all-star lineup: Matthew Levering of Mundelein Seminary, Jonathan Ciraulo of St. Meinrad Seminary, and my own colleague at the Gregorian University, Aaron Pidel, S.J. The authors represented in the first issue can also all be fairly described as all stars.

Here’s a description of the journal from its website:

The New Ressourcement

is a quarterly journal of theology and philosophy published by Word on Fire Academic. It serves the Church and the academy by publishing scholarly articles that demonstrate the depth and relevance of the entirety of the Catholic tradition.

This journal aims to sentire cum tota ecclesia, to think with the whole Church as it has ever reflected on the mystery of the Incarnate Christ, as seen in sources that are biblical, patristic, medieval, as well as modern. The journal draws inspiration from, and seeks to continue the work of, previous generations of ressourcement theologians. It shares with them a conviction that the renewal of theology and philosophy occurs by returning to sources that remain inexhaustible. This ressourcement is “new” because we trust that this patrimony is fertile enough to encounter contemporary questions confidently and to illuminate the challenges and opportunities that shape the present age.
https://newressourcement.wordonfire.org

Serpents, Cyrus, and salvation: homily for the fourth Sunday of Lent

*Miracle of the Bronze Serpent*, Tintoretto (Scuola Grande di San Rocco, Venice, 1564-1587)

Homily for the 4th Sunday of Lent (B)

Today’s readings are a workout. The serpent in the desert, God’s love and the refusal of many to accept it, faith and works, the prophets, Israel’s exile in Babylon, and King Cyrus, a Gentile who saves the day. Getting through today’s readings means not just getting in your spiritual steps for the day—it’s more like earning a medal for the decathlon.

For a bit of mid-Lent spiritual exercise, the first image from today’s Gospel is a good place to start. At first glance, it might seem a bit obscure. What was Moses doing lifting up a serpent in the desert? Jesus is referring to an incident during Israel’s wandering in the desert found in the Book of Numbers. The Israelites, as seems to be their habit, complain against God and against Moses, saying “There is no food” and “We loathe this worthless food.” The complaint does raise the question, which is it? Is there no food or just food the Israelites don’t like? There seems to be a bit of manipulative use of language in the Israelites’ rebelliousness, perhaps even a bit of self-delusion. The phenomenon is not unique to the ancient world. Today our political and social divisions are often made worse because we use exaggerated terms to describe our opponents and their intentions—or to mask uncomfortable facts we do not want to hear—and then we start to believe our own rhetoric. The result is poisonous. And, in fact, in the Book of Numbers, God punishes the people of Israel for their rebellion by sending fiery serpents to bite them.

Santa Maria in Cosmedin – home to St. Valentine

Santa Maria in Cosmedin, Piazza della Bocca della Verità, Rome

It’s not one of Rome’s station churches, but Santa Maria in Cosmedin was one of my stops as Lent began this year because of the coincidence of Valentine’s Day falling on Ash Wednesday. A college English professor once advised me that in literature love and death are always intertwined, and this year’s liturgical calendar seems to add an exclamation point to the theory. What does all of this have to do with Santa Maria in Cosmedin, a twelfth century Roman church a stone’s throw from the Circus Maximus?

Well, Santa Maria in Cosmedin is home to the relics of St. Valentine. And, given his current appearance, I’d say Valentine drives home Ash Wednesday’s message pretty well. Not much is known about his life; Valentine was third century Roman priest martyred for continuing to minister to his flock in the midst of persecution. A note near his altar says the saint has been turned to not only for love, but as an intercessor in times of plague.

The relics of St. Valentine — romance abounds!

The church itself is rather fascinating. The current building, with its stubby façade and soaring bell tower, dates from the 12th century but was built on the site of an eighth century diaconia. Diaconia were the Catholic Social Services hubs of their day, centers where various forms of charity were distributed to the needy. Today the church is home to Rome’s Melkite community.