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Institute for Homiletics

A Collaboration of The Catholic Foundation and the University of Dallas

Dr. Karla J. Bellinger

Our Yes! to God.

I am remembering a Sunday morning at Mass, as we stood to sing  before the reading of the Gospel. In the pew behind me, a little blond  boy sang “Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!” in his four-year-old voice at  the top of his lungs. Exuberantly! Loudly! Innocently, with joy in  his heart. 

Do you think that the angels and saints in heaven sing like that  little guy? Exuberantly, loudly, innocently, with joy in their hearts?  Can you hear them? “Alleluia!” to the Holy of Holies. “Alleluia!”  to the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. “Alleluia!” to the One-in-Three. 

What about us adults? On Trinity Sunday, we use metaphors of  clovers and candles to wrap our minds around the concept of One in-Three. We strain to understand God. We un-grand the grandeur  of the “Great I Am” so that we “get it.” But we don’t “get it.” It is as  though we try to capture the radiance of the sun and cup it in our  hands. 

Concepts are important. At the same time, the Intimate One  glows and whispers within us, “I am more than ideas. Go deeper.  Dwell in me.” The Big God of the Universe bursts into our grown-up  rationalizations and shouts, “I am more. Go bigger. Dwell in me.”  The grandeur of the living God permeates all that is. 

Those loud and innocent “Alleluias!” can be ours as well. We are  not to live a listless Christian life that limps along only on ideas. We  can recapture the exuberance of faith, that innocence of being four  years old and loving God! The Father-Son-and-Holy-Spirit is real.  The power of the Trinity is real. The God of the Universe is with us,  always faithful, never departing: “I am with you always.” That is  Good News! Sing Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia! 

Consider/Discuss 

  • The Holy Trinity, one God, is Mystery beyond Mystery. In biblical  parlance, God is the Father under whose wings we take refuge; God is the  Son who has redeemed us from the muck; God is the Spirit who surrounds  us and warms us and upholds us and empowers us. How have each of the  members of the Holy Trinity made an impact on your life? 
  • If we say yes to the power of the Trinity, what kind of power does God  want to give us? Are we looking for the “lord-it-over-others” power that  squashes others and pushes its way around? Does power mean this world’s  muscling that hurts those who are small? With others of good faith, we  shout no to that. How can we more fully give God a roaring Yes! to the  Trinitarian power that raises up the lowly, sets captives free, and loosens  the bonds of the oppressed?

Living and Praying with the Word 

Jesus, you said that “all power on heaven and earth” has been  given to you. I am small. I need your power. Help me to give a  mighty Yes! to the strength of the Holy Spirit. Well up within me to  love when I do not feel like loving. Strengthen me to give when I do  not feel like giving. Empower me to make a difference in this world,  a difference that matters to you. Holy Trinity, One God, flood me  with the very fullness of you.

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Called to Holiness

As I came to the end of today’s Gospel, I got stuck on the word  “consecrated.” Jesus says it three times—asking God to consecrate  “them,” consecrating himself for “them” and that “they” be  consecrated in truth. What in the world does “consecrated” mean?  I went to look up it up. 

From the Greek sense of the word, consecrated means to sanctify,  make holy, purify, or set apart. Its opposite is “common.” Jesus asks  his Father to make his apostles holy, set apart, to make them saints.  He gives himself up for them. The Holy Spirit will come to sanctify,  purify, and set them apart as special for God. 

As I type this sentence about being “set apart,” I look up from  my laptop. To the right of the dining room table where I write, is a  cabinet of dishes that our family has “set apart.” On the top shelf in  the back, are fifteen of my mom’s crystal goblets that we bring out  only for Thanksgiving and Christmas. They are not “common.” We  handle them carefully. 

So does holiness mean to be “set apart,” placed on the shelf in  the heavenly “cupboard of the saints” like those goblets? Is holiness  limited to those whom we designate “consecrated” and those who  live in monasteries? Does Jesus’ “them” include us common folks as  well? Is he praying for our holiness, too? 

In the same cupboard, we also have some heavy earthenware  dishes decorated with oak leaves. They are not delicate. They are  special to us, too. 

God’s children are as inexhaustibly varied as fine china and  earthenware dishes. You and I—we are each unique and distinct.  Each of us is created to become holy, divinized, and godlike, in our  own particular way. We each have a sacred purpose in this world. 

Consider/Discuss 

  • Unlike the self-help books that tell us that we are special and “you can  do this,” we cannot divinize ourselves. The self-help movement suggests  to us that we can get “better” under our own steam. How is that working  for you? To be made holy, to be divinized, and to become god-like—that  is a high calling, a great adventure. We need a helper. Jesus prays for the  coming of the Holy Spirit. What happens if we disregard the presence of  the Holy One in our midst and try just to “do it” on our own? 
  • Our world begs for holy and ethical people, not just in the Church, but in  families, business, law, carpentry, technology, politics, caretaking, medicine,  plumbing, and teaching. It doesn’t matter where you rest your head. God  wants you and me to be holy. What does it mean to be continually made  afresh in the image and likeness of God? What is your route to holiness? 

Living and Praying with the Word 

Dear God, sometimes I feel that holiness is a word meant for  someone else. I stumble around breaking things. I mess up. I am not  fine china in a glass-enclosed cabinet. I am just as comfortable in my  boots in the dirt as on my knees in a church building. But if that’s  okay with you, then I offer myself to you for sanctification. It won’t  look like someone else’s holiness, but I’ll give you what I’ve got. You  have given me a sense of your presence deep in my heart. Since you  want me to be holy and pure and good, then, please make it so.

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Headed Home

We are not told which two angels they were. But the assignment  came from above: “Go and bring my Son home. Forever.” They  talked it over. “Go and bring him home . . . ” What does that mean?  They had seen him become flesh. They had rejoiced when they sang  to the shepherds. They had marveled at the star. They had celebrated  when the Word became flesh. It was amazing. 

Now they are confused. “Bring him home.” This Jesus of Nazareth,  so limited, so broken from human pain—this one is coming home?  And bringing his human flesh with him—what does that look like? “Will he rot?” 

“No . . . His resurrected body seems to be able to walk through  walls, yet he can eat fish.” 

“We have not seen this before.” 

The ways of the Almighty could be confusing, but the angels  had spent eons watching this story of stories unfold in surprising ways and through unexpected people. But this? The Word who had  become flesh was not going to un-become flesh? This was new. But  the order had come: “Go, bring him home . . . ” 

They listened to Jesus give his last instructions. They shook their  heads. First off, humans can’t drive out demons or drink poison or  heal the sick. Most of all, these uneducated men from Galilee cannot  spread this Good News and have anybody actually listen to them— humans kill prophets. Wow, Holy Spirit, you are going to have to  bring some power! 

And then . . . Jesus just went. And his followers stood there,  stunned, looking up. And so the two angels gave the message: “He  will return in the same way as you have seen him going into heaven.”  Then the angel messengers quickly disappeared, curious to see how  this was going to work. 

Consider/Discuss 

  • Sometimes the ascension of Jesus can remind us of those whom we have  loved who have gone away. Lots of people leave us. Yet God draws us into  something new and inconceivable, untracked territory—Jesus becomes  nearer to us now that he is gone. How can this be? 
  • How do hope and promise emerge through suffering? Who would we like  to see when we go “home” forever? 

Living and Praying with the Word 

Dear God, you know that we are creatures of time and space. We  live in a place. We measure our life by days and years. We cannot  imagine what life is like after death, when we will no longer be  limited by time and space. Yet this measureless reality is our hope  and our happiness, for we will be with you in your boundless love  forever. We praise you for that promise!

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Rescuer, Redeemer, Savior

The trucker swung down the exit ramp and braked at the stop  sign. The interchange was empty—no gas station, no house lights,  nothing but darkness. My hitchhiker’s instincts kicked in. This was  not good. 

“Where are you going?” I glared at him from the passenger seat. He hungrily eyed me, an eighteen-year-old female. Then he  grunted “You got a knife?” 

I didn’t. But I growled as gruffly as I could, “Yeah, you bet.” “Get out then!” 

I jumped down to the gravel into the bitter winter. By the time I  had hiked halfway up the ramp toward the interstate, he had turned  his semi around and roared past me, back onto the highway. He  hadn’t been going anywhere but after me. I shook from much more  than the cold. 

I held out my thumb by the side of the interstate, in a silent plea  for a ride. Nobody stopped. The wind blew through my thin jacket.  The tear ducts in my eyes began to freeze. My mind grew muddled on  that dark plain of North Dakota in the middle of January. I stopped  shaking and thought, “I’ll just lie down here.” The only other thing  in my head was, “Oh, Someone . . . help.” 

An ancient Oldsmobile pulled over. The back door opened. A  grandma slid a three-year-old onto her lap to make space for me.  “¡Hace frío!” she exclaimed. She held up a piece of her blanket and  covered my legs with its warmth. “Sorry, heater no work,” the dad  said as he shifted into gear. As we drove, I began to thaw with the  five warm bodies huddled together in the back seat. 

“Where you going?” the dad asked. “Michigan,” I said. He shook  his head. They were going to Fargo. “I take you to bus. No more  hitchhike,” he said. I couldn’t have agreed more.

Consider/Discuss 

  • Dozens of warm cars and trucks had no space for me that night many  years ago. But if you are one of the (now grown up) members of that  Mexican family who squeezed together in the back seat of your unheated  car to make room for me, I have always wanted to thank you. You saved  my life. And in the warmth of your family for those many miles, you  surrounded me with what love looks like. For those of you who are not a  member of that family, is there someone who has rescued you in a moment  of need whom you too have always wanted to thank? 
  • Whether it is by our own foolishness or from the malice of another,  sometimes life drops us by the side of the road. Yet there is one who  knows our predicament and picks us up. In this season of the warmth of  the Resurrection, we believe that Jesus is our Rescuer, our Redeemer, and  our Savior. How has God lifted the blanket to make space for us, to let us  in, even when we have been headed for ruin? 

Living and Praying with the Word 

Jesus, you ask us to love as you love, giving ourselves for others.  Love is not a warm mushy feeling, but a willingness to work for  the good of the other. Thank you for those who have laid down  their lives for us. Thank you for the fruit they have borne, fruit that  has transformed us. Your compassion sometimes works through  unlikely people, unseen people, big-hearted people who give without  counting the cost. Bless all of your friends who imitate you. Grant  them great joy in their lives of generosity.

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Flowing with Abundant Life

The eastern white pine is one of my favorite trees. I have vibrant  memories of wind-swept foliage against the bright blue sky of Isle  Royale in Michigan. I recall the exhilaration of cross-country skiing  through radiant white snow with white pines soaring overhead. The  white pine is a majestic tree. 

So I am a little sad about the large white pine tree next to our  house. Bark beetles have bred within the inner bark. Sometimes a tree  can fight off that infestation, but last summer’s drought weakened it.  Once the inner bark is chewed all around the tree, the tree is girdled,  and no sap can flow. Water cannot travel upward through the xylem  to the leaves. Food from the leaves cannot move downward to the  roots. This past month, all the needles have turned brown. We will  have to cut it down. 

Jesus knew about sap in living things. He talks about remaining in  him. That word “remains” (or abide or dwell) is a mystical term that  connotes a deeply intimate and constant communion. The sap of the  vine continually flows into the branches and keeps them healthy.  When there is a vigorous transfer of nutrients, the plant flourishes  with abundant good fruit. 

But what about those little bugs? In the spiritual life, we don’t  often pray, “Jesus, just go away.” We don’t deliberately cut ourselves  off from the vine. Rather, little things begin to eat away at our  relationship—having no time to pray, harboring resentment, getting  so busy that God’s beauty passes by unnoticed, forgetting faith-filled  friends, or ignoring our conscience. Difficult seasons can weaken us.  Without meaning to, we can inadvertently allow the bugs of life to  chew away at our connection to the Source of life and slowly start to  wither. Jesus, help us to flourish and not be cut down!

Consider/Discuss 

  • It is Easter! It is springtime in our northern hemisphere! It is not time to  think about plants dying but growing! How can you allow the Holy Spirit  to fertilize your spiritual life this week? 
  • Jesus’ sap of love flows within us to help us to flourish. How can we open  ourselves to the vigorous transfer of spiritual nutrients and not block  that flow? How can we so abound with love that we bring abundant  compassion to others? 

Living and Praying with the Word 

Jesus, you ask over and over again to love each another. You know  the bugs in our lives. You know that we do not dwell in your love as  we ought. You know that we do not stay in communion with you as  well as we could. Strengthen us to follow you more closely. As you  did for the early church, build up the people of faith in this Easter  season. We will praise you, O Lord, in the assembly of your people!

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