A Christmas Homily

Did you see the manger back there. It’s just beyond the forest, in the clearing between the trees.

It really does look beautiful.  Almost as beautiful as that night in Bethlehem.

That night when a young virgin on the back of a donkey was led by her aged husband to Bethlehem, so he could sign up for the Roman census. And, as you just heard, they could not find a place to stay, so they ended up in a stable, gathered around a manger.

Manger is a funny kind of word, for it exists only in the Gospel. It literally means a feed box (mangé), as a contemporary translation of Saint Luke reminds us: “she had her first baby and laid him in a feed box because there was no room for them in the place where travelers stayed.”

Being born in a manger was probably dirty and smelly and far from as comfortable as a bed. Plus it was on the outskirts of one of the most out of the way towns in Galilee, at a time when mothers and their children frequently died during childbirth, even in the most hygienic of settings (which this stable was not).

Galilee in the time of Jesus was a place of sickness and disease, trying desperately to recover from an epidemic of tuberculosis.

So why of all the times and all the places in the long history of the world, did God choose a stinking animal stable in a disease infested backwater as the birthplace of his Son?

And therein lies the mystery of this night. For he came because he loves us, in all our stinkiness and disease infested littleness. He came because he loves us not in our brilliance or our sanctity, our accomplishments or our power, but in our brokenness and in our littleness. He loves us.

For on this night that weak little child in the crib takes up our littleness, our brokenness and our fears and carries them to the Cross, where he joins them to his own flesh and offers them up in a pure sacrifice of love

As the prayer says tonight: “he humbled himself to share in our humanity, that we may share in his divinity.”

He came to feel in his own heart the same betrayals which have so many times broken yours,

He came to tremble in the face of death, the way you have by the grave or the hospital bed of one you loved,

He came to know the humiliation of falling down just like you,

He came to weep the same tears that streamed down your cheeks,

He came to bleed with the same blood that flows through your veins,

As he touched with human hands, thought with a human mind, acted with a human will and loved with a human heart, just like yours.

In the words of a great mystic:

“He who was invulnerable asked to…feel cold and heat, hunger and thirst, weakness and pain.

He who…made all things asked to be poor…

He who was entirely sufficient to himself, asked…for a heart that might be broken.”

And therein lies the definition of love and the definition of this night: that it is not in our greatness or our power or our successes that we find the meaning of life. But in being little, obedient and loving…

Like the baby in the crib and the man on the Cross.

O come, let us adore him!

Patience and Waiting in Hope

Billy was only five years old and the hardest thing about life for him was patience. He had none. Especially when it came to Christmas and that great big box under the tree that had his name on it. 

He tried shaking it when his mother was making the brownies, and even kicked it a few times to see if he could hear a puppy inside. He knew it was something incredible, because his father had told him that Santa Claus had dropped it off early…you know how busy he gets on Christmas Eve.

But it was driving him crazy to find out what was on the inside of the big red and green box with the outsized bow and his name written in even bigger letters: B-I-L-L-Y.

it was all he could think about as he fell asleep, because he knew there was something wonderful inside there, and he even thought of running downstairs in the middle of the night and then telling his mom and dad that a burglar must have broken in and opened his gift from Santa Claus…but even at five years old he knew they would never believe him.

So he waited and waited and waited for Christmas to come.

Julie-Ann was a little older. She was eighty-seven, and the hardest thing about life for her was patience. Her life, it seemed has become, as of late, a never ending series of doctors’ appointments, procedures (she found that word amusing), referrals, more doctors, bedrest, new brightly colored medicines and all the other things that come with getting old.

She just wanted to get better, or at least not to feel the aches and pains that seemed to fill her days…a new one coming along every week or so. She was amused by the fact that she now had things hurt that sge never knew she had before.

And it was so hard to be patient. Especially since it had been almost ten years since John died, and on most days she just longed to be with him again and with Jesus and his Blessed Mother and Saint Therese, her favorite Saint.

The waiting was hardest when she went to bed. That’s when she felt most alone, her heart aching for that day when she could just go home to heaven.

It’s hard to be patient. For patience is only possible for one who hopes…in the wonder of the gift that’s still all wrapped up, and the promise of that day when we will see it all face to face, when this veil of tears and this agony of waiting will pass, and the Lord will take us hone.

And we wait with patience and with hope because we know it to be true:

That every desert will bloom, 

And the steppes will rejoice.

That he will strengthen the hands of the feeble,

and make firm the knees that are weak.

That he will bring peace to the hearts that are frightened

and open the eyes of the blind.

That the deaf will hear and the lame will leap like the stag,

That the tongue of the mute will sing with everlasting joy;

and sorrow or mourning will never be again.

And so we wait, with patience and hope.

Like the little boy and the old lady, 

we wait in joyful hope,

for the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ!

Predicting the End

The one thing we know about the end of the world is that it will happen. And that the Lord will come to judge the living and the dead. And we even know what we will be judged on!

But there’s lots we do not know as well, such as when it will take place.

Not that people have not tried to guess. In fact, there’s a whole cottage industry of folks predicting that the signs of the times are telling us that Jesus is coming now!

All you have to do is go down to Barnes and Noble and you can buy copies of Foreshadows: 

Twelve Megaclues That Jesus' Return Is Nearer Than Ever, or How Current Events Point to the Antichrist and His Worldwide Empire. 

Or you can watch the end-time profits on TV, like Jim Bakker, (remeber him from PTL), who hosts a program called “Prophetic End-time News”  in which he describes signs of the end of the world which are “all around us.” Or you can read about the evangelical pastors, along with Kanye West, who have suggested that there are micro-chips in the COVID-19 vaccines, which are signs of the beast, indicating that the end of the world is at hand. Pat Robertson has predicted that an asteroid will hit the earth in 2025 and Jesus will return in glory. Just like he previously predicted would happen in 1982 and in 2007.

Just as Jerry Falwell said Jesus would come in 2000, Hal Lindsey in in 1988, Herbert W Armstrong in 1943 and John Wesley in 1836, all based on their interpretations of the Bible.

But the problem is, they evidently didn’t read today’s Gospel, in which Jesus responds to the disciples’ question, “Teacher, when will this happen? And what sign will there be when all these things are about to happen?”

His answer is simple:

See that you not be deceived…for many will come in my name, saying… The time has come. Do not follow them! When you hear of wars and insurrections, do not be terrified; for such things must happen first, but it will not immediately be the end. 

And then he says something even more remarkable. He tells us to stop spending our time guessing when he will come and pick up our Cross and follow him, for “they will seize and persecute you…because of my name.” 

So, let’s follow his advice, and listen to Saint Peter who writes, “with the Lord one day is as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day. . . . But according to his promise we wait for new heavens and a new earth in which righteousness dwells. Therefore, beloved, since you wait for these, be zealous to be found by him without spot or blemish, and at peace.”

Or, as we will hear repeatedly, in just a few weeks during Advent, “stay awake and be prepared, for you do not know the day or the hours when the Son of Man will return to judge the living and the dead.

Pokrova

 Homily

Thirty-Second Sunday in Ordinary Time

The story is told of some fire-fighters in the forests of the great Northwest and a conflagration which took weeks to bring under control. Much of the open forest, it seems, was burned to the ground, and as they surveyed the damage they came upon the eerie sight of a bird, completely engulfed by the flames, until there was nothing left but bone and ash. But when they knocked it over with a stick, three tiny chicks scurried out from under their dead mother’s wings.

The mother bird, it seems, had carried her offspring to the base of a tree and gathered them under her wings. When the fire reached her, the mother did not move, burning to death while protecting her chicks under the shadow of her wings.

It’s what we prayed about in the Psalm this morning, that God ‘hide us under the shadow of his wings.’1 And when Jesus spoke of his desire to ‘gather the children of Israel together, as when a hen gathers her chicks under her wings...'2

In other words, God will take care of us with the devotion, love and protection of a peregrine falcon, way up there in the steeple, sheltering her young under her wings from the cold winds and the storms of life. In her presence, as in God’s there is safety, protection, and care.

Indeed, from the days the Chosen People were wandering in the desert, God has been covering us with his love, “Like an eagle... hovers over her young..."3

——

The people of the Ukraine need that protection more than ever these days. This past week, four of Kyiv’s hospitals were without electricity or running water, while more than 10,000 people have been killed since the start of the war, a third of them civilians.

In many of the media reports you can see Ukrainian priests holding up an icon of the POKROVA, an image of the Blessed Virgin Mary, with her outstretched hands lifting up the edges of her cloak, beneath which the people of the Ukraine huddle together.

It’s an old image, this POKROVA, which is translated in Ukrainian as the Virgin of the Cover, or Our Lady of Protection.

It comes from the tenth century, when the people of Constantinople were also under seige by a foreign power. As the story goes, Mary appeared in a parish Church and was seen spreading her cloak over the city, at which the invading armies withdrew. Around a century later, the Grand Prince of Kyiv dedicated Ukraine to the POKROVA, where she is known today as the “Queen of Ukraine.” Her feast was celebrated just two weeks ago, amidst the sounds and the horrors of war. But despite

it all, the people of the Ukraine still gathered in their Churches and trusted that the Lord and his Blessed Mother would protect and care for them.

Now, you may not live in a war zone, or have reason this morning to fear for your lives. But you still face the storms of life: the unexpected suffering, the fear and a sense of powerlessness against the onslaughts of life.

But when you do, just say your prayers and go to Church and trust in the God who loves you more than you can ever know... even more than a mother Eagle, who will shelter you in her love.

________________________________

1 Psalm 17:8.

2 Cf. Matthew 23:37 and Luke 13:34.

3 Deuteronomy 32: 10-12.

Worcester Diaconate Retreat: THE EUCHARIST AND DIAKONIA

 

I

THE EUCHARIST AND DIAKONIA: 

AN INTRODUCTION

Do you resolve to discharge the office of Deacon with humble charity in order to assist the priestly Order and to benefit the Christian people? 

Like its predecessors, the newest edition of the Roman Missal echoes the Council Fathers who saw normative Eucharistic celebration as Mass celebrated in the local church by the Bishop “surrounded by his presbyterate, deacons, and lay ministers ... in which the holy people of God take full and active part, for herein is the preeminent expression of the Church.”1

From the Council Fathers to the latest edition of the Roman Missal, then, the Deacon assumes an indispensable, normative role in the celebration of the Eucharist. 'Two significant changes in the new Roman Missal reinforce this point.

Strikingly, the structure of the General Instruction has been altered to describe just two basic forms of Mass: Mass without a Deacon and Mass with a Deacon. Thus, while describing with greater precision the specific roles assumed by the Deacon, the new Missal emphasises the all-pervasive effect that presence has to enhance and alter the shape of the celebration.

Secondly, in an entirely new section, we are told that “after the priest, the deacon, has first place among those who minister in the celebration of the Eucharist.”²

Two points should be made here. First, this concentration on the importance of the role of the Deacon is nothing new. It echoes the words of Pope Paul VI, who in 1972 observed that: “Since the apostolic age itself the diaconate has had a distinctive and superior rank among these ministries and has always been held in great honor by the Church.”3 In this regard he recalls how Saint Paul explicitly greeted not only the Bishops but also the Deacons,⁴ and describes in detail the qualifications for this important ministry.⁵

Likewise, he recalls the great martyr, St. Ignatius of Antioch who described the ministry of the Deacon as the same as “the ministry of Jesus Christ, who was with the Father before all ages and has been manifested in the final time.” As Saint Ignatius equates the Deacon's ministry with Christ's, he also recalls the Lord's command to his disciples to love others as he had first loved them.

 The Deacon is called to be first of all the minister, after the model of Christ, who came to serve and not to be served. 

 

The same Christ who told us that he who would be first should put himself last, should become like a little child and should be the servant of all, is the same Christ who through his Church calls the Deacon first of all the minister. The same Christ who died upon a Cross as they cursed and spat upon him, is the one who calls the Deacon to love others as he has loved him.

Thus, right from the start the definition of diakonia as kenotic self-giving and service at both the table of sacrifice and the table of charity must guide us in our reading of the identity and function of the Deacon as envisioned by the latest revision of the Roman Missal.

The Role of the Deacon

Paragraph 94 of the new General Instruction gives us the reasons for its high estimation of diaconal ministry. The predominance of the Deacon is due both to the high honor in which this order has always been held and to the functions of the Deacon at Mass.

It is precisely those functions which I suggest give us an even clearer picture of who the Deacon is in the eyes of the Church, lex orandi, lex credendi. For as the Deacon serves the Liturgy, so he is called to serve the Church and the place he takes in the former is descriptive of the place which belongs to him in the latter.

While I am not suggesting that valid observations about the ministry and identity of the Deacon cannot be derived from other sources, the Liturgy is the privileged place for reflection on the meaning and ministry of the diaconate. 

In the homily at each Deacon's ordination the Bishop reminds him that among his most basic roles is to "prepare the sacrifice, and give the Lord's Body and Blood to the community of believers.”⁶

And those Deacons who dwell in God's house are called to five roles that reveal the essential characteristics of diaconal ministry. Those four roles described by the new Roman Missal are Deacon as Servant, Proclaimer, Voice, and Dispenser. 

 

Servant of Bishop, Priest, and Altar

As we have implied above, the Deacon's first role is one of diakonia. That role takes on concrete form at Mass as the Deacon is called to assist the Priest or Bishop, but especially at the altar in the Preparation of the Gifts and during the Communion Rite.

St. Polycarp of Smyrna is the first to tell that the Deacon is called upon to be “disciplined in all things, merciful, diligent, walking according to the truth of the Lord, who became the servant of all.” Likewise, the Didascalia Apostolorum, recalls the words of Christ, "Whoever wants to be great among you must be your servant.”⁷

All of this is echoed in each Ordination of a Deacon, which is replete with reminders of the diakonia to which Deacons are called. In his homily the Bishop reminds us that the Deacon "will help the bishop and his body of priests as ministers of the Word, of the altar, and of charity. They will make themselves servants to all." Shortly thereafter, the Bishop turns to the man who will soon be ordained a Deacon and says: “My son, ... the Lord has set an example for you to follow. As a deacon you will serve Jesus Christ, who was known among his disciples as the one who served others.”

An intimate and reciprocal connection between the Deacon as minister of charity and servant of the Priest and the altar has been with the Church through the ages, as we are reminded by the following early twelfth century description of the Deacon that mirrors almost to the letter the roles assigned by the new Roman Missal:

It pertains to deacons to assist priests and to minister in all things which are done in the sacraments of Christ; that is, in baptism, in chrism, in the paten and chalice, to carry the oblations and place them on the altar, to take care of and decorate the table of the Lord; to carry the cross, and to read the ... gospel to the people .... To deacons also pertain the recitation of prayer and the reading of names of new catechumens. The deacon admonishes all to hear the Lord; he gives peace and he announces ... deacons receive the texts of the gospel that they may know themselves to be preachers of the gospel of Christ.⁸

How, then, does the new Roman Missal call upon the Deacon to serve the altar and the Priest?

In the preparation of the liturgy, the Deacon should see to it that the necessary vessels and vestments are properly arranged for the celebration. He should also see that the liturgical books are properly prepared, and that the texts for the celebration are marked with ribbons.

The Deacon accompanies the Priest at almost all times and may offer the introductions and directions in place of the Priest. He assists with incense and the sprinkling with Holy Water and is seated near the chair so that he might be available to direct any and all practicalities. If catechumens are present, the Deacon may dismiss them before the Profession of Faith.

Most importantly, the Deacon prepares the altar and assists the Priest in receiving the assembly's gifts or may receive them himself. He prepares the chalice and hands the gifts to the priest, who places them upon the altar.

The Deacon assists with the breaking of the bread. As an ordinary minister of Holy Communion, the Deacon also assists with the purification of sacred vessels.

During the Eucharistic Prayer the Deacon assists with the care and even elevation of the chalice and the incensation of the consecrated elements. The new Roman Missal prescribes that while for most of the Eucharistic Prayer the Deacon stands near the altar when his ministry involves the chalice and Missal, “as a rule” he kneels from the epiclesis to the elevation of the chalice.⁹ ‘"As much as possible, the Deacon stands back from the altar, slightly behind the concelebrants.”¹⁰ Three principles seem to dictate the posture of the Deacon during the Eucharistic Prayer: 

First, that he be well positioned to perform his role as principal assistant to the Priest; second, that it be clear that the Deacon is performing diaconal assistance and not concelebrating and third, that the Deacon model the posture of the faithful.

Thus the rites of the Church make clear that diakonia means service and expresses the inextricable link between the diaconal ministry of charity and the liturgical diakonia. For just as the Eucharistic celebration is the source of all authentic Christian spirit and the summit of the entire Christian life, what the Church does at Liturgy is the prototype for what she does in life. The Deacon servant of the poor is thus the Deacon servant of the altar.

______________________

II

THE EUCHARIST, DIAKONIA AND THE GOSPEL

I’d like to begin with two moments from the Ordination of a Deacon. First, with a promise:

Do you resolve to hold fast to the mystery of faith with a clear conscience, as the Apostle urges, and to proclaim this faith in word and deed according to the Gospel and the Church’s tradition? 

Notice the Deacon promises to proclaim the Gospel in word and in deed, bringing to mind the old saying of Saint Francis: Preach always, and use words when you have to!

At the foundation of the Deacon’s ministry is the Gospel of Christ, which is why from the tenth century, the presentation of the Book of the Gospels at the ordination of a Deacon has signified that the Deacon was a minister of the liturgical proclamation of the Gospel. The Ordination Rite recognises the diaconal ministry of the word in the rite of presentation:

Receive the Gospel of Christ, whose herald you are. 

Believe what you read,

teach what you believe,

and practice what you teach.

But what is this Gospel and why is it’s proclamation associated so closely with the Deacon?

The introduction to the Lectionary for Mass reminds us that “the liturgical tradition of both West and East has consistently made a certain distinction between the books for the readings,”¹¹ and that the proclamation of the Gospel at Mass is “the high point of the liturgy of the word.”¹² 

This is why the proclamation of the Gospel is set off from the other readings by special marks of honor. In the words of the General Instruction:

…by the fact of which minister is appointed to proclaim it and by the blessing or prayer with which he prepares himself; and also by the fact that through their acclamations the faithful acknowledge and confess that Christ is present and is speaking to them and stand as they listen to the reading; and by the mere fact of the marks of reverence that are given to the Book of the Gospels.¹³

Why is the Gospel accorded such honor?  Because it alone contains the very words and saving actions of Christ. It is only fitting, therefore, that the Deacon serve as the minister of this book of him who chose to serve all mankind until death upon a Cross.

The Roman Missal directs that the Deacon carry the Book of the Gospels in the entrance procession “slightly elevated.”¹⁴ When arriving at the altar with the Book of the Gospels, he does not bow, but immediately places the Book of the Gospels on the altar and then kisses the altar at the same time the priest does.¹⁵ 

Greater detail is given to the Deacon's role in the proclamation of the Gospel as well. He is to bow when asking for the blessing and when taking the Book of the Gospels from the altar.¹⁶ A description of the optional kissing of the Book of the Gospels by the Bishop is likewise included. The Deacon may proclaim the readings, but only in the absence of a qualified reader.¹⁷ Likewise, the homily may, on occasion, be given by the Deacon.¹⁸

The Book of the Gospels

And so, from the earliest days of the Church, a specially bound book has been set aside for the proclamation of the Gospel, as in this fifth century mosaic of Saint Lawrence in the tomb of Galla Placidia in Ravenna.

The introduction to the U.S. edition of the Book of the Gospels gives us a clearer understanding of purpose and use of this sacred book. 

So clearly is the Book of the Gospels a sign of Christ present in the liturgy that it is revered with the same holy kiss given to the altar. (no. 6) 

Thus, the Book of the Gospels as a sign of the presence of Christ in his word proclaimed, is always accorded a place of honor in the Church's liturgy. It is borne by the deacon in solemn procession for the veneration of the entire congregation and accompanied by candles and incense at Mass. The presentation of the Book of the Gospels to the newly ordained deacon "symbolizes the office of the deacon to proclaim the Gospel in liturgical celebrations and to preach the faith of the Church in word and deed.” (no. 7)

And this is why, as well, that at your ordination, the Bishop urges you to ever cling to the Gospel of which you are now a herald. They are the closing words to his homily and a good cause for meditation even today.

Never allow yourselves to be turned away from the hope offered by the Gospel. Now you are not only hearers of this Gospel but also its ministers. Hold the mystery of faith with a clear conscience. Express by your actions the word of God which your lips proclaim, so that the Christian people, brought to life by the Spirit, may be a pure offering accepted by God. Then on the last day, when you go out to meet the Lord you will be able to hear him say, “Well done, good and faithful servant, enter into the joy of your Lord.” 

_________________

III

THE EUCHARIST, DIAKONIA 

AND THE CUP OF SALVATION 

From the earliest days of the Church, the Deacon has been the minister of the Precious Blood. He bears the cup of eternal salvation and ministers it to God's holy people. Thus the new Roman Missal prescribes that at Communion, the Priest himself gives Communion to the Deacon under both kinds. When Communion is given to the faithful under both kinds, the Deacon ministers the chalice. After Communion has been distributed, the Deacon, at the altar, reverently consumes any of the Blood of Christ that remains.¹⁹

All this begins with the sixth promise taken by the Deacon at his ordination: to shape his way of life “always according to the example of Christ, whose body and blood [they] will give to the people.” This promise, in turn, is rooted in the earliest prayer for the ordination of a Deacon found in the Apostolic Tradition of Hippolytus, which mentions but one specific task assigned to the Deacon: “to bring forward [in your holy of holies] the gifts which are offered to you by your appointed high priests.”²⁰

Diakonia in the Model of Christ Jesus

We began this brief reflection by recalling Saint Ignatius' description of the Deacon as a minister in the model of Christ Jesus. I wish to conclude by calling all Deacons to see everything they do at Mass as an opportunity to make themselves vessels through which Christ Jesus can be made present to his holy people. Yet just as Christ's perfect sacrifice was accomplished through his kenotic self-emptying, so Deacons are called to empty themselves each time they seek to serve the Sacrifice of the altar.

When the Deacon comes to serve, he must empty himself from all selfish concerns. He must see himself as servant of the Liturgy and never its master. He must minister to the priest and to the altar with the humility of him whose very Body and Blood were offered on the altar of the Cross.

When he comes to proclaim the Gospel, the Deacon must empty himself of all his worldly wisdom that he might be filled only with the wisdom of God. He must decrease so that the Word of God might take root in him and those who hear his voice may hear not him, but Christ Jesus who lives in him. His acclamation of "the Gospel of the Lord"must ring authentic and true.

When he proclaims intercessions or invites the people to prayer, the faithful must recognise in the Deacon the trustworthy and compassionate man to whom they may go with any of their needs. The poor must know him as their friend. Orphans must see him as their father, and all who are alone, afraid or confused must see in him a refuge in the model of Christ Jesus. All must have such trust in his prudence and charity that his wise guidance is spontaneously welcomed.

Finally, all who receive the Saviour’s Precious Blood from the Deacon's hands must receive the chalice as from one who knows the meaning of sacrifice, of being poured out for God's people, and of striving for holiness of life. The Deacon, too, must take up the cup of salvation as one whose very life is a hymn of praise to the Lord. For the cup he bears is his salvation and a model of the life to which he is called as a Deacon.

What the new Roman Missal and the Church ask of the Deacon is to become more like Christ. To participate in his Paschal Death and Resurrection by how he lives and how he prays, by what he does and who he has become.

This is the mystery of diaconal ministry at the altar. It is the mystery of the Church and the mystery of all who are called to the Supper of the Lamb!

The association of the Chalice with the Deacon is ancient, and may well have its origins in the fact that someone has to minister the Precious Blood, while the Priest ministers Holy Communion under the form of bread.

Bearer of the Cup of Salvation

From the earliest days of the Church, the Deacon has been the minister of the Precious Blood. He bears the cup of eternal salvation and ministers it to God's holy people. Thus the new Roman Missal prescribes that at Communion, the Priest himself gives Communion to the Deacon under both kinds. When Communion is given to the faithful under both kinds, the Deacon ministers the chalice. After Communion has been distributed, the Deacon, at the altar, reverently consumes any of the Blood of Christ that remains.²¹

All this begins with the sixth promise taken by the Deacon at his ordination: to shape his way of life "always according to the example of Christ, whose body and blood [they] will give to the people." This promise, in turn, is rooted in the earliest prayer for the ordination of a Deacon found in the Apostolic Tradition of Hippolytus, which mentions but one specific task assigned to the Deacon: "to bring forward [in your holy of holies] the gifts which are offered to you by your appointed high priests.”²²

While the Deacon is closely associated with the Holy Eucharist, he is most intimately associated with the Precious Blood, from the earliest days of the Church, as in the fascinating story of Saint Lawrence.

Saint Augustine tells us that “Lawrence was a deacon of the Church of Rome; there he ministered the sacred blood of Christ and there he poured out his own blood for the sake of Christ’s name.”

It is perhaps due to this early testimony that, of all the candidates for the Holy Grail, the actual chalice used by Christ at the last supper, the most likely is the chalice preserved in a bullet-proof case in the Cathedral of Valencia, in Spain. 

 

This Chalice, with an ancient agate stone cup, is traditionally associated with the Deacon martyr Lawrence.

 

Lawrence is supposed to have been born in Spain, traveling to Rome at a young age, where he worked closely with Pope Sixtus I (Linus, Cletus, Clement Sixtus), the same Pope who was martyred by Valerian just three days before the Deacon Lawrence.

As the story goes, Lawrence had convinced Pope Sixtus to give away all the treasures of the Church to feed the poor. The one exception were the irreplaceable relics, including the Chalice use by the Lord at the Last Supper. So, Sixtus entrusted Lawrence with all of these.

The day after Sixtus was martyred, the Roman authorities came to Lawrence and demanded he turn over all the treasures of the Church within three days. At which time, according to Saint Donato, Lawrence gave the Holy grail to a Spanish soldier to be carried off to Spain. 

A mosaic in the Church of San Lorenzo fuori le mura (built over Lawrence’s grave) is said to have testified to this fact before it was destroyed by an American bomb during the Second World War.

Such is the intriguing story of the Holy Grail, all wrapped up in the early association of the Deacon with the Chalice and the Precious Blood it carries, at least from the time of the shedding of the blood of the good Deacon Lawrence in 258 A.D.

An intriguing story and an answer to the question each Deacon is asked when they are ordained:

Do you resolve to conform your way of life always to the example of Christ, of whose Body and Blood you are ministers at the altar?

______________________

IV

THE EUCHARIST, DIAKONIA AND THE POOR 

From the earliest days of the Church, the inspiration and foundation of the diaconate is clear: to take care of those whom everyone else has forgotten.

The Testamentum Domini (Testament of the Lord) is a fourth century Syriac manuscript, alleged to contain the Lord Jesus’ instructions for the organisation of the Church and other matters, as given to his disciples before his Ascension into heaven. While the Church has never accepted it with the same canonicity as the scriptures, it does reflect the practice of the Church in its first few centuries of life.

It addresses a whole raft of issues, including the hours of prayer, how to bury the dead, the arrangement of churches, how to visit the sick, what to do when people manifest charismata or spiritual gifts, and the roles of Bishop, priest and deacon. 

It describes the deacon as:

…the one who shows love for orphans, for the devout and for the widowed, one who is fervent in spirit, one who shows love for what is good.²³

So, from the first days of the Church, you are the one who shows love to the poor and love for what is good.

This is why, liturgically, the Deacon is the ordinary minister of the Kyrie, all litanies, and even the general intercessions. He articulates the “cry of the poor” and the broken, because he is the minister most intimately acquainted with the pains, sorrows, and struggles of those most in need of our prayers. He is, in a very real sense, their voice, both in the Liturgy and in the world. For, in a sense, the general intercessions are the prototype of diaconal prayer.

All of which is because the Deacon is the one who loves the good.

When I was younger, I understood the imperative of caring for the poor. Jesus told us, after all, that unless we fed the hungry, clothed the naked and cared for the poor, we were going to hell.

When I was younger, then, I was convinced I understood the parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus. 

 

The rich man went to hell because he refused to feed the poor man, over whom he would step each time he went into dinner.

And I was right. But, not completely… as growing older has often taught me.

For, what if the rich man had simply slipped Lazarus a $10 bill each time he saw him.  Maybe dropped it from his pocket as he walked over him on the way to dinner.  Would that have made a difference?

Well, it certainly would have made Lazarus $70 richer each week, and maybe even a little less hungry.  But there’s something more going on here.  For while Jesus tells us that Lazarus would have gladly eaten the scraps from the rich man’s table, was the Rich Man’s only sin that he did not feed Lazarus?

No. His real sin was that he did not love Lazarus.  Not enough to feed him, to listen to him, to care for him or to recognise in him another human being. 

It’s like Mother Theresa. Her work in life was not to cure or even treat the dying. She never built a hospital and seldom had doctors at her House for the Dying. It was just a house for the dying, where she and her sisters could love people who were dying. Love them, that’s all.

For as Saint Paul tells us, “if I have not love I am nothing.” But then we mess it all up. We so often end up loving things and using people, rather than the other way around.

Which is why the Rich Man went to hell.

————

I remember when I was in graduate school in Washington D.C., my one break from studying and writing my dissertation was to go down to Union Station on the Metro for breakfast. The station empties out on the lower level of the Union Station and you go up a long escalator to get to the food court. And at the top of the escalator a dozen or more beggars would inevitably gather and push up against the crowd, looking for a handout.

At first, I just looked the other way, like most of the people. And then I started to feel really guilty, so I began giving out a couple of five dollar bills. But then I figured out that some of the beggars were druggies and would end up shooting up with my two five dollar bills.

So, I went MacDonalds and got a bunch of gift certificates, until I saw one of the recipients of my largesse selling the certificate at less than face value for a bottle of Thunderbird in a brown paper bag.

So, with the advice of a wise old spiritual director, I decided not to hand out money, but to invite one of the beggars to breakfast. And you know what happened? That “beggar” changed from a “that guy” to a real person, whose name I will never forget. 

Dan was once a lumberjack from Washington State with a wife, whoczmitted suicide after their son became an addict and ran away from home…and that’s when Dan decided to hide at the bottom of a bottle in the Casino in Portland, where he lost the house and then hitchhiked to Florida and then to Georgia, and finally to the top of the escalator in Union Station, where he met me, the Rich Man, who finally got tired of walking over him and his brothers on the way to breakfast.

Now I wish I could tell you that Dan, or any of the other guys I used to have breakfast with miraculously turned their lives around and became saints. But that’s not the way life works, except in the movies. I did not change anyone’s life. But I did learn his name, and I did listen to his story and I did share scrambled eggs and bacon with him.

Which does make me a saint. It makes me a human being, who at least once tried not treat Lazarus like a thing, 

 

looking the other way, and walking over him as I rushed off to hell.

So, in conclusion, let’s return to the Prayer the Church prays over the Deacon when she ordains him.

May there abound in them every Gospel virtue: 

unfeigned love, concern for the sick and poor,
unassuming authority, the purity of innocence,
and the observance of spiritual discipline. 

That is my prayer for you who exercise the diakonia of humble service in the person of Christ. You who minister at his altar, proclaim the Gospel to us, nourish us from the life-giving chalice and care for us when everyone else has forgotten.

Yours is this precious ministry. May God, who has begin this good work in you, bring it to completion.

_____________

1 Sacrosanctum concilium, no. 112.

2 Genral Instruction of the Roman Missal [GIRM], no. 94.

3 Ministeria quaedam.

4 cf. Phillipians 1:1.

5 cf. 1 Timothy 3:8-13.

6 Rite of Ordination of a Deacon.

7 Matthew 20:26-27.

8 Peter Lombard, Sentences (PL 192:903), as translated and quoted in Echlin, The Deacon in the Church, pages 84-85 [Sententiae N, dist. xxiv].

9 GIRM, no.179.

10 GIRM, no. 215.

11 Introduction to the Lectionary for Mass, no. 36.

12 Introduction to the Lectionary for Mass, no. 36, Ordo Lectionum Missae, no. 13.

13 GIRM, no. 60.

14 Cf. GIRM, no. 172.

15 Cf. GIRM, no. 175.

16 Cf. GIRM, no. 175.

17 Cf. GIRM, no. 176.

18 Cf., GIRM, no. 66.

19 Cf. GIRM, no. 182.

20 Apostolic Tradition of Hippolytus (c. 215). H. Boone Porter, The Ordination Prayers of the Ancient Western Church (Alcuin Club Collections, no. XLIX; London, 1967), p. 12, adapted.

21 Cf. GIRM, no. 182.

22 Apostolic Tradition of Hippolytus (c. 215). H. Boone Porter, The Ordination Prayers of the Ancient Western Church (Alcuin Club Collections, no. XLIX; London, 1967), p. 12, adapted. 

23 Testamentum D.N. Iesu Christi 1, 38: I.E. Rahmani, ed. and tr. (Mainz, 1899) 93.