The Blank Page

Homily for the Sixth Sunday of Easter, Year A

Note: The following homily was delivered the weekend of April 26 and 27. Because of Confirmations that weekend and being on vacation the following week, I am just now getting a chance to post this homily. I did not preach the weekend of May 3 and 4.

Have you ever had the experience of sitting down to read Scripture, fully intent on being able to find some significant meaning in what you read, but it all falls flat and you get nothing out of it. Take, for example, one of the lines from today’s gospel: “On that day you will realize that I am in my Father and you are in me and I in you.” Everything clear? You are in me and I am in you and you are in him and he is in me and I am in him and we are in each other … Or imagine this scenario, you are a priest who reflects on the Scriptures each week in preparation for preaching on Sunday morning, but during one particular week, no matter how many times you go through the readings, no matter how many commentaries and reflections you look at, no matter how much time you spend in prayer, when it comes time to write that week’s homily, absolutely nothing has grabbed you. Typically, there is a word or phrase in the gospel that sticks out – but this week, nothing. So you start looking at the world around you, to try to find the gospel at work in our world. But, unlike last week, there was no earthquake to work into the homily, and you can’t quite figure out how to connect skyrocketing gas prices with Jesus’ line: “If you love me, you will keep my commandments.” This is either going to be a really long week of searching for a homily topic, or else a really bad homily.

So then you do what all good preachers do: if nothing strikes you from the gospel of the day, you start looking at the other readings. And there are great themes in the first two readings we have today – we hear about the giving of the Holy Spirit in the first reading, and we hear a brilliant reflection on the relationship between hope and suffering in the second reading. Yes, that will do just fine – hope and suffering – this weekend would be a great opportunity for a theological exposition on the meaning of Christian hope. Pope Benedict has a relatively new document on hope; you could quote him, and then masterfully weave in some of the reflections of people like St. Augustine of Hippo and St. Hilary of Poitiers, and then wow them with the depth of thought of St. Bernard of Clairvaux, who said, Impassibilis est Deus, sed non incompassibilis. But pretty soon you come to your senses and remember that a homily is not a theological tome, and it is never a good thing if the preacher falls asleep before the people. And so you make a note to write a bulletin letter on the relationship between hope and suffering, and you turn back to a now empty piece of paper that is supposed to be a homily.

But maybe that’s it – right there before your eyes: a blank sheet of paper. Because the message of today’s gospel is not about writing down reflections on the words of Jesus, it’s about living the words of Jesus. The message of today’s gospel is to love God, to keep his commandments, and if you do your best to do that, then God will send the Holy Spirit to help you. It’s a living message, an active message – love God through your actions, not through your writing, preach the gospel at all times, as St. Francis of Assisi said, and only use words if necessary. The faith we profess is a living faith, and there is no number of written homiletical reflections that can surpass the glory of living for Christ. Sometimes a blank page faith is better than an encyclopedia faith.