Homily
[Exodus 12:1-8, 11-14; Psalm 116; 1Corinthians 11:23-26; John 13:1-15]
This evening, we are richly blessed to have among us twelve special members of the Catholic Social Services community. These women and men have come to Canada as refugees from their homelands, and CSS has been assisting them to settle in this new land. We are pleased to welcome them to this faith community of Saint Joseph Basilica, and surround them with our love and support.
Tonight, we ponder in gratitude and awe the mystery of the Most Holy Eucharist. As we do, let us consider first how the presence of our special guests is a reminder that we are all, each of us, in need of refuge. Although we may not have to flee persecution, deprivation, or oppression, nevertheless we all experience a deeply felt need for asylum from the many dangers and hardships that come to us all. Family instability, societal unrest, and moral confusion threaten our well-being on many levels. Most worrisome of all is the ever-present tendency to sin against the love of God, or the guilt weighing upon us from actually having done so, realities that menace our souls and fill us with a sense of futility and remorse. Where can we flee for refuge from all of this? Where are we truly safe?
Our refuge is the Most Holy Eucharist. Let’s ponder this carefully. The passage from Exodus recounts how the ancient Jewish people took refuge in the blood of a sacrificed lamb placed on the doorposts of their homes. It protected them from the angel of death as it passed over any home marked with that sacrificial blood. Christian faith recognizes this ancient event as a foreshadowing of the pouring out of the blood of Jesus Christ as he gave his life for us on the Cross. In so doing, he became the paschal lamb, whose death destroyed death and thus saved the world from the power of sin. In other words, Jesus himself is our refuge, and he makes himself present – truly, really present – in the sacrament of the Most Holy Eucharist.
Saint Paul reminds us of how Jesus established this wondrous mystery by the words he spoke at the Last Supper: “this is my body; this is my blood”. On the basis of those words of our Lord himself, it is our sure faith that, when the priest, acting in the person of Christ, says those same words over the gifts of bread and wine, the simple elements are bread and wine no longer but are changed by the working of the Holy Spirit to become the Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ. When we receive into ourselves those transformed gifts, offered from the altar, we are given Holy Communion with the Lord Jesus, who is our sanctuary and protection from all that threatens us.
Now, as wonderful and consoling as this is, the refuge it affords us in this life does not exhaust the mystery of the Eucharist. It is also preparation for and pledge of the world to come. Here again our new friends can help us appreciate this.
Many new arrivals to Canada require an entry visa. Later, after they have been settled for a while, they can seek permanent residency in the hope of finally being granted full citizenship. Well, Jesus is our crucified and risen Lord, whose death and resurrection opened wide the gates of heaven to those who die believing in him. He is our “entry visa” to heaven, if you will. Because he now reigns forever at the right hand of the Father, union with our Lord in the Eucharist also grants us “permanent residency” in Paradise. And finally, because Jesus is the Son of God, eternally one with the Heavenly Father, communion with him draws us into the very life of the Holy Trinity, thus making us lasting citizens in our true homeland. All of this happens now in anticipatory fashion, of course; our journey is not yet complete. Yet, while on earth, communion with our Lord in the Eucharist grants us the gifts and charity necessary to live as his disciples on pilgrimage to our heavenly home.
This brings me to the final dimension of the Eucharistic mystery, which, again, we can ponder in light of the example offered by the newest members of our community. Catholic Social Services has shared with me on numerous occasions how many of the people they have helped settle in Canada seek afterward either to volunteer or work at the agency because they want to give back. This is only natural. When we have been helped by others, especially when we are not in a position to help ourselves, the gratitude we feel moves us to make of ourselves a gift to assist other people in need. Here we touch what is communicated by Jesus when he washed the feet of his disciples and commanded them to do the same.
By the shedding of his blood on the Cross, Jesus washed not our feet but our souls. This wondrous outpouring of divine love did for us what we could never have done for ourselves; it cleansed us of sin and prepared us for the gift of eternal life! How can we not be overwhelmed with gratitude for what God has done for us in the gift of His Son? How can we not want to give back? This is precisely what we do when, moved by both gratitude and charity, we “wash the feet” of others, that is to say, give of ourselves in service to anyone in need. The mystery of the Eucharist reminds us of the mercy of Christ, grants us communion in his love, and sends us forth in the power of his charity to serve others in his name.
This evening, then, as we now wash the feet of those who have found asylum with us, may the love of Christ renew us in our desire and zeal to serve anyone seeking refuge from the challenges and difficulties of this world. May our love in action draw them to the one true and sure asylum: the love of Christ poured forth anew in every celebration of the Eucharist.
Most Reverend Richard W. Smith
Saint Joseph Basilica
March 28th, 2024