Homily for June 1,
2018
St. Justin, Martyr
Fruit of Holiness
“The end
of all things is at hand” – that’s how our readings started off today, from the
Apostle Peter. Yes, the end of school is at hand…but so is the end of all
things, the end of your life.
Perhaps
I’m strange, but I love wandering through old graveyards. Maybe it’s because my
Eagle Scout project was to clean and fix a graveyard at my local church in
Maryland. Right next to Holy Spirit Church, where I live, is a small graveyard
from the early- to mid- 1800s that I often wander through. It’s amazing to see
these graves, some of which belong to Revolutionary War or Civil War veterans,
people who lived through some hard times and monumental changes in the world…I
look at the graves and think, I’m going to go join them too. I don’t know how
long, I don’t know when, but it’s inevitable: I will die. And so will you. And
the sooner we realize and take this to heart, the sooner we can really start to
live.
I’ll
never forget the only time I’d ever seen someone die. I was hiking with some
friends along the Potomac River in Maryland a few years ago. It had just
rained, and the river was truly raging and swollen. There are big signs along
the whole trail: Do Not Swim in the River. Fair enough – it looked like
chocolate milk, it was so brown and raging. Not something I would want to swim
in, anyway. We took a break for lunch and looked across the river, where
another group was picnicking on the other side. We saw two young men, in their
early 20s, take off their shirts and start to wade in the river. All of a
sudden we got nervous – this couldn’t end well. They both started swimming –
the first man made it across to our side, several hundred feet downriver
because of the strong current. The second man started strong, but soon started
struggling. We could hear him crying out, “Help me! Help me!” as he bobbed up
and down. We knew we couldn’t go in to help him, or we would drown ourselves.
We immediately called 911 as we watched him go under…and he didn’t come up.
Needless
to say, we were all shocked and stunned. After giving reports to the police
about what had happened, we sat there to process it. It was a sobering moment
for me – it made me realize that life on this earth is temporary. That young
man got up that morning, thinking that he was just going for a fun hike with
some friends, and because of one bad decision he was now facing Jesus Christ
his Judge. He never thought that he would have died that day.
Interestingly
enough, in the days that followed, my friends had two reactions. Some of my
friends though, “Wow, life is short. I’d better make my time count” and they
started living a better life – praying more, treating their parents with more
respect, studying harder. But some of my friends thought, “Wow, life is short.
I’d better live it up before I die” and started drinking more, partying more,
sleeping around more, smoking more weed. The difference? One group of friends
thought that eternity was real – and they lived accordingly. The other group of
friends thought that this life was all there is – and they lived accordingly.
My
friends, Jesus makes it clear in today’s Gospel that something is required of
us from this life. We see this mysterious story of the Lord cursing a fig tree
because it didn’t give Him fruit – well that seems rather strange, now doesn’t
it? Why would Jesus curse something He created? It’s actually richly symbolic –
He curses something that doesn’t bring Him what it’s supposed to. The fig tree
doesn’t produce figs; therefore, it’s useless. You and I are supposed to bring
Him something too – a holy life. We are supposed to present our lives before
Him, saying, “Lord, here I am. I have tried to live my life for You and Your glory,
living a life of holiness.” If, at the end of our life, we are able to bring
Him the fruits of a holy life, the fruits of prayer, of virtue, of humility and
repentance and love – then we have done what is asked of us from this life. But
if we bring Him nothing but a wasted life of pleasures and empty riches, bad
habits and addictions, then we will be like the fig tree – cursed, condemned.
I was
reading the life of one of my favorite saints, St. Dominic Savio. He was a
young man who achieved great holiness at the young age of 15. In his Catholic
boarding school that he attended, I was reading that all of the students
participated monthly in a prayer for a happy death. I thought, “Woah! Young
teens are preparing for a happy death?” But that was part of the secret of his
holiness. St. Dominic Savio lived his life in such a way that he was ready to
die at any moment, ready to meet the Lord.
Are you?
If today was your last day on earth, would you be ready to meet Him? Would you
be able to present Him with a life of holiness if you were to meet Him this
day?