Homily for Ordinary Time 29 - October 17, 2021

 

Homily for October 17, 2021

Twenty-Ninth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Ransom

 

            During World War II, there was a fighter pilot named Vivian Rosewarne from the Royal Air Force of England who flew multiple successful missions. He never ceased to be amazed by the grandeur of the sky and the world from his vantage point 20,000 feet above the ground. Despite his success as a fighter pilot, he knew his days were numbered, as more and more of his comrades were shot down on mission. In the last letter he wrote home to his mother, he shared his premonition that he would be shot down soon, but he told his mother not to worry. Instead, he penned these immortal words: “The universe is so vast and ageless that the life of one man can only be justified by the measure of his sacrifice.”

            Yes, in the grand scheme of history, our lives are so, so small. Walk through a graveyard and look at the graves – do you know any of those names? Those people who thought they were so important while alive are not even remembered today. Truly, our lives are only justified by what we sacrifice for.

            But our sacrifices are nothing compared to Christ’s sacrifice. If an innocent person dies, it is a tragedy – but if a guilty criminal dies, people often say, “Well, they deserve it.” But we are the guilty ones – Christ is the Innocent One. Our second reading says that Jesus is the only one among us without sin, but He took on Himself the guilt and shame, the punishment that should have been ours. It was our death He endured; our sufferings that He embraced. This is why He could say in the Gospel that His mission was to “give His life as a ransom for many.”

            Last week my homily was about the mercy of God – but mercy has a cost. The cost of mercy is the Blood of Jesus Christ. The price of our reconciliation to God is the death of His Son. What lavish and outrageous love – to ransom us criminals, God gave away His innocent Son!

            In the light of such an enormous sacrifice, there are two responses we should have. First, gratitude. Our entire lives should be one of gratitude. The Father was not obligated to send His Son; He could have just given up on the human race. The Son did not have to die for us, but His abundant love wanted to give it all. Every day we ought to thank Him for such a reckless love.

            And the best way to thank Him is through the Mass. The word “Eucharist” comes from the Greek word eucharistia, which literally means “thanksgiving”. One day St. Theresa of Avila was so overwhelmed with the goodness of God – she considered the beauty of creation, the goodness of her family and friends, the consolation of her Catholic faith, the promise of everlasting life – and she cried out to the Lord, “Lord, how can I ever thank you for everything You have done?” Jesus spoke to her and said, “If you wish to thank Me, attend one Mass.”

            When we attend Mass, we offer God the perfect thanksgiving – the perfect eucharistia – for such extravagant love He showed us on the Cross.

            But in addition to gratitude, such a sacrifice invites us to imitate His example. St. Paul tells us to “make our bodies living sacrifices” – to imitate His sacrifice by laying down our lives. I think of the beautiful example of St. Maximilian Kolbe, one of the most popular saints of the twentieth centuries. He was a Polish priest during the Nazi occupation, and was arrested because he was an outspoken critic of the Nazis. During his imprisonment in Auschwitz, he continued to exercise his priestly ministry by hearing confessions, praying with the men, and encouraging them.

            One man in his cell block escaped from the camp, and in retaliation, the Nazi guards ordered all the men in his cell to stand at attention as they went down the line and selected 10 men to be starved to death in an underground bunker. When the guards pulled out a certain man, he fell to his knees and cried out, “I have a wife; I have children! Please don’t take me!”

            From out of the line stepped Fr. Maximilian Kolbe. He said, “I will take that man’s place.” The guards were stunned – no one had ever volunteered to enter the starvation bunker before. They accepted the exchange, and Fr. Kolbe and nine men entered the underground cement bunker.

            Every day, the Nazi guards would check on the men, but instead of hearing them crying out for mercy, Fr. Kolbe led them in singing and prayers. Finally, he was the last of the ten men to die, serenely and peacefully. The man whom he gave his life for? He was rescued from Auschwitz and was present in Rome when Pope John Paul II named Maximilian Kolbe a saint.

            A man’s life is measured by his sacrifice. But all of our sacrifices are tiny compared with the ultimate sacrifice of Christ. With a love so profound, how can we do anything less than live a life of gratitude, imitating His example of self-giving love.