Homily for Ordinary Time 7
February 19, 2023
Princes In Disguise
When the
Communists took over Russia during the 1917 Revolution, they tragically
executed the entire royal family…except for the youngest daughter, Anastasia.
Somehow, she reportedly escaped, and for the next seventy years many women came
forth and claimed to be Princess Anastasia. One woman, named Anna Anderson, was
particularly convincing, and actually brought a lawsuit to a German court to try
to prove that she was the missing princess, who had adopted a new name and
identity for her safety. The lawsuit dragged on for 32 years before a judge
finally declared that she was not the real princess. To this day, it
remains an unsolved mystery as to the disappearance of the princess.
I’ve
always found that story interesting, because we seem to have a fascination with
royalty-in-disguise. Think of many older Disney movies – Cinderella, Beauty and
the Beast. Think of the old fairy tale where the princess has to kiss a frog to
turn him back into a prince. Our literature is awash with stories of princes
and princesses hidden under common, unassuming disguises.
Why is
that? Could there be a profound truth at the heart of our fascination with
hidden royalty? Perhaps we are seeing in these stories a deeper glimpse into
our own identity as well?
What do
I mean? Well, what do you see when you look into a mirror? Perhaps someone
who’s lonely, someone who has regrets, someone who made a mess out of life,
someone who’s tired. Maybe just someone who is pretty ordinary – after all, I
don’t think we have too many famous people here at St. Jude’s!
But St.
Paul says three powerful things about our identity in today’s second reading.
He says that we are “the temple of God”, that “the Holy Spirit dwells in us”
and that “we belong to Christ.” Through grace, this is who we have become:
children of the King, which makes us princes and princesses in disguise.
And if
we are princes and princesses, we ought to live out our dignity! Listen to the
powerful words of Pope St. Leo the Great: Christian, remember your dignity,
and now that you share in God’s own nature, do not return by sin to your former
base condition. Bear in mind who is your King and of whose body you are a
member. Do not forget that you have been rescued from the power of darkness and
brought into the light of God’s kingdom. Do not drive become again a slave to
the devil, for your liberty was bought by the blood of Christ.
Christian,
remember your dignity! Remember Whose Blood has washed you clean, remember
Whose life was given to purchase yours. Remember Whose son or daughter you are.
With such a royal dignity, sin is beneath us – it is common, vulgar, when we
are meant to live noble and upright lives. Sin is like playing in the mud when
we will someday dwell in the heights of heaven. Just as it would be absurd to
see Prince Harry eating from a dumpster, so it is equally absurd to see a
Christian wallowing in the filth of sin.
And it
is in this light that we see Jesus’ words to “be perfect” For those of us who
struggle with perfectionism, this Gospel can be a real challenge. Be perfect? I
thought no one was perfect! Here’s where it’s helpful to go to the original
Greek. The word is telos which means more than “perfect”…it also means “fulfilled,
achieving its ultimate goal.” So what is the telos, the ultimate goal of
a human being? To live out our dignity as sons and daughters of so noble a
Father. We speak of people being “chips off the old block” or “she really takes
after her father.” Likewise, we are to live the nobility of holiness precisely
because we are the children of the all-holy Father, friends of the all-holy
Son, and temples of the all-holy Spirit. All the riches of this world are just
mud and filth compared to the glory that we are destined to partake of!
Back in
the early 1700s, when America was still being built up, a young aristocrat
named Dimitri Gallitzin came to visit our country. He was the son of the
Russian ambassador, a young man who came from a very noble background of
riches, wealth, and high society. His parents were nominally Christian, but
Dimitri had a real hunger for God and for living a better kind of life than
that of a socialite. Arriving in America, he was amazed to see how many
Catholics who lived in rural communities across the Thirteen Colonies had no
access at all to the Sacraments. Moved at their plight, he told his parents
that he was entering seminary to become a priest to serve the rural poor
Catholics of this fledgling nation of America.
This
caused shock and horror to his family – he was giving up his inheritance? His
wealth? His standing in high society? Yet Dimitri had found a higher nobility –
the dignity of laying it all down for Christ. He became the first priest ever
ordained in the United States of America in 1795, and spent his priesthood
traveling through the mountainous regions of western Pennsylvania, bringing the
Sacraments to isolated farmers and communities that had not seen a priest in
decades. There were so few Catholics that one time he had to travel on
horseback over 150 miles just to give someone Last Rites. He would travel for
weeks on end to visit isolated families and communities to say Mass for them,
often sleeping on bare floors or in barns on his travels. He became known as
the “Apostle to the Alleghenies Mountains”, and is now on the path to potentially
being named a saint – a man who gave up earthly nobility for the far more noble
life of sacrifice for Christ.
My
friends, remember that you have a dignity that far exceeds the finest riches or
greatest fame that this earth can offer. No, you are the sons and daughters of
the King of Kings and Lord of Lords; you were purchased with the Blood of God
Himself; you are the inheritors of Heaven itself. Only a noble life of holiness
could live up to such a royal destiny.
Be holy,
as your Father is holy.