The airports and train station remain virtually closed today, so it looks like Monday is the day of the great exodus from Washington D.C. We celebrated Mass for the Third Sunday in Ordinary Time in our hotel room this morning. Here's my brief homily on dewfall, snowfall and the Holy Spirit.
They were hungry, with n’er a restaurant in sight, neither in the hotel nor across the street. Hungry, in the desert and alone. Except for a God who loved them enough to promise them Bread from Heaven; for “when the dew evaporated,” it left a hoarfrost of manna for them to eat. He gave them bread, having all delight within it, in the quiet, unseen, gentleness of the dew come down from heaven. (Ex 14:13-15)
And that was just the first time. For whenever we are hungry, afraid or lost in the desert, the Lord covers our misery with a dewfall of his favors, a snowfall of his mercy. He drenches a tired earth with his faithfulness and breathes hope into our souls. (Lam 3:22-24)
Did you notice how dirty and tired and dark the capitol looked the day we arrived. On cloudy days, the district has a way of looking grayer than any other city. But then we awoke…to streets and sidewalks and even the capitol dome all covered in white, anointed, cleansed and reborn.
And if God can do that with snow, imagine what he can do when he descends upon the earth will healing in his wings and sends the Holy Spirit to transform those two little unleavened hosts into the gift of finest wheat, the very victim offered on the altar of the cross for our salvation.
So, come Holy Spirit, descend like the dewfall upon these gifts, that they might become the real heavenly bread, his flesh for the life of the world. (Cf. Jn 6:30-31)
