HOMILY
Memorial Mass for Pope Francis
Tuesday of the Octave of Easter – April 22, 2025
“Woman, why are you weeping?” … Jesus addresses these words to Mary Magdalene as she journeyed to the tomb on that first day of the week to anoint the body of Jesus after his burial. She had already announced to the disciples that the tomb of the Lord was empty. Thinking that the body of Jesus had been taken away, she remained at the tomb weeping for the loss of her Lord and what appeared to be a final indignity to the rabbi from Nazareth whom she and so many believed to be the long-awaited hope of Israel and savior of God’s people.
The exchange between the two leads to Mary’s recognition of the risen Jesus, who then directs her to “go to my brothers and tell them, ‘I am going to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’”
How providential that the readings for this day – Tuesday of the Octave of Easter – offer for us this dialogue between Jesus and Mary Magdalene. In so many respects, they strike us as words that would likely be uttered by our beloved Holy Father, Pope Francis, whom we remember in prayer during this liturgy, don’t they? “Why are you weeping?” … “For I have seen the Lord! And my hope has been fulfilled through the resurrection of Jesus.”
Few of us could have imagined that as we saw Pope Francis emerge on the balcony of Saint Peter’s Basilica on Easter Sunday and then ride through the square to encounter his people that he was actually saying “good-by” with one final gesture of blessing. In that good-by on Easter Sunday, he reminded us as he so often did throughout the twelve years of his papacy that hope for the Christian is not simply optimism, irrepressible idealism or wishful thinking. No, “authentic hope is born solely of the resurrection of Jesus. It consists precisely in this, that in facing death, which appears to be the end of everything, we have the certainty that, thanks to the grace of Christ imparted to us in Baptism, ‘life is changed, not ended’ forever.”
Pope Francis will long be remembered as a pastor who gave us reason to hope. Beginning with his defining teaching in Evangelii Gaudium less than a year after his election as Bishop of Rome, the Holy Father taught us that at the heart of the Gospel of Jesus was a message of hope and mercy for everyone. There was never condemnation in his words or a litmus test for entrance into the Church for any soul who sought to be reconciled with the Lord – who looked for meaning and life beyond this broken world in which we live. No – he stood with open arms before all of us as struggling souls and in his native Spanish would proclaim time and again todos, todos, todos – that the Catholic Church is a place for everyone – everyone.
During one of the defining moments of Pope Francis’ papacy, his proclamation of the Year of Mercy in 2015-2016, he called the entire Church to reflect on the richness of God’s mercy, reminding us that we are all invited to experience and share this mercy with one another, especially those most in need. His focus on God’s mercy – and that no one can be excluded from it – was not just an abstract teaching. It permeated his words and actions, from his encounters with the poor and marginalized, to his tireless efforts to foster peace and reconciliation around the globe.
Pope Francis’ ministry was a living witness to the Gospel message. By putting Christ at the center of his life, he was able to demonstrate his great love for the poor, was able to use his voice to call for the care of creation and worked tirelessly to build bridges of understanding among all Christians.
As we give thanks for the gift of Pope Francis to the Church and to our world, may we reflect upon some of the final words that he shared with us in his Easter homily given just two days ago – words that so beautifully capture the invitation that the Lord gives to us, the challenge to live the gospel that he calls us to embrace, and the hope that is ours through faith in his resurrection:
“Our Easter faith, which opens us to the encounter with the risen Lord and prepares us to welcome him into our lives, is anything but a complacent settling into some sort of ‘religious reassurance.’ On the contrary, Easter spurs us to action, to run like Mary Magdalene and the disciples; it invites us to have eyes that can ‘see beyond,’ to perceive Jesus, the one who lives, as the God who reveals himself and makes himself present even today, who speaks to us, goes before us, surprises us. Like Mary Magdalene, every day we can experience losing the Lord, but every day we can also run to look for him again, with the certainty that he will allow himself to be found and will fill us with the light of his resurrection.”
“Why are you weeping?” … Jesus is risen and we, God’s people, pass from death to resurrection and eternal life. Amen!
HOMILY
Easter Sunday – April 20, 2025
This is the day the Lord has made! … Welcome one and all on this day of Resurrection – this day that defines who we are as Christians. … Welcome to our Catholic family – our Christian brothers and sisters – and those of you from different faith traditions. … And to our Jewish brothers and sisters, we wish you a very happy and blessed Passover. … This is indeed the day the Lord has made!
With the entire Church of Scranton, we give thanks today for 215 catechumens and candidates who listened to the voice of the risen Lord speaking to their hearts and said yes to God’s invitation to grow in faith, including Sawn Mulligan, Fabian Dominguez, Sabrina McKenna and Nathania Palar who were baptized and received into full communion in the Catholic Church here in our cathedral during last evening’s great Vigil of Easter. How blest we are by their presence and commitment to journey with us in faith.
As you listened to the proclamation of the gospel that described the experiences of the first followers of Jesus on the morning of the resurrection, did you notice something unusual? For all that we celebrate this day, we don’t encounter Jesus in the gospel. While Jesus was very present to us throughout the gospels of Holy Week – Palm Sunday, Holy Thursday and Good Friday – today, of all days, we don’t meet him. He doesn’t speak to us or show himself to us in the manner with which we’re accustomed to experiencing him in the gospels.
Saint John tells us that Mary Magdalene went to the tomb in the morning of the first day of the week and found the stone rolled away from its entrance. So she ran quickly to tell Simon Peter and the other disciples of her discovery, even though she didn’t fully comprehend what she had experienced.
The urgency to announce the resurrection – despite not yet encountering the risen Jesus – is far more intensely conveyed in Matthew’s and Mark’s gospels. “Go quickly and tell his disciples that he has been raised from the dead.” In other words, do not tarry as you try to make sense of something beyond your ability to understand. Go! Jesus is not here. He is risen. Your journey with him is not over. It’s only begun. So go to your homes – go into the streets – travel to the countryside and proclaim Jesus raised from the dead.
While the gospels tell us that Jesus did eventually appear to his disciples and to others prior to his ascension, from the earliest days of the Church to this gathering, countless numbers of believers have come to know Jesus raised from the dead not because they have seen him. No, they – and we – have come to know Jesus raised from the dead through faith – faith in the power and presence of God alive in our hearts. We’ve come to know the risen Jesus through the Easter sacraments of Baptism, Confirmation and Eucharist. And we have come to know him through the community of believers – this community – in which Jesus lives and through which his grace and mercy are mediated to us.
It’s vital that we reflect a bit on what we know about that first Easter day, for we are at no disadvantage when we compare ourselves to the first believers. Like those who journeyed with Jesus to Calvary and who peered into an empty tomb, it can be difficult at times to understand the ways of God and to believe all that we are called to embrace as followers of the Risen One, can’t it? … Some days, despite the faith that rests within our hearts, our lives can feel empty – as we grieve the loss of loved ones – as we experience the consequences of our self-consumed behavior – and as we confront any number of disappointments and fears. … Not unlike the early Church, the harsh realities that we face in our world can unsettle the best of us as we look at wars in the Holy Land and Ukraine – to our own country fraught with division and hatred – to far too many areas of the globe enveloped by unrest and blatant disrespect for human life – not to mention the grief and pain that we experience in our families and personal lives.
Yet, despite the burdens that are borne by so many, if we are humble enough to look beyond ourselves – to acknowledge our need for a savior – and to allow the selfless love of Jesus to become the pattern for our lives, we will surely encounter the Risen Jesus – in the same way that he has been experienced since the earliest days of the Church. It is this same reality that prompted Pope Francis, in announcing the great Jubilee Year of Hope, to invite us to focus on the miracle of Easter. “The death and resurrection of Jesus is nothing less than the heart of our faith and the very basis of our hope” as Christians.
Seven years ago, when we were updating our cathedral to commemorate the 150th anniversary of our diocese, many of you asked that we place a crucifix in the sanctuary. When we looked at options for its placement, some suggested that a crucifix suspended over the altar might block the view of Raphael’s painting of the transfiguration of Jesus. Providentially, however, you can see that from whatever vantage point you look at the cross, your eyes are always pulled beyond it to the transfigured image of Jesus – a sign of hope pointing to his resurrection – and a reminder to us that for as heavy as our crosses may be, the presence of the Risen Lord in our lives always triumphs over suffering and death.
Brothers and sisters, but for the faith that rests within our hearts and prompts us to pray at this hour, we have no guarantees about anything in life, do we? No guarantees save for the resurrection of Jesus where God has the last word.
Just as the risen Jesus is the final image that we see as we confront this cross, in the resurrection, God assures us that no matter how things look – no matter how much it appears that evil has the upper hand – no matter how overwhelming the suffering and pain may be – no matter how hopeless we may feel, the ending of our story has been written by God, who has loved us to the cross and given us all reason to hope.
Simply put, the resurrection of Jesus assures us that, as the mystic Julian of Norwich affirmed, “in the end, all will be well, and all will be well, and every manner of being will be well.” This is the day the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad!
HOMILY
Chrism Mass – April 15, 2025
Welcome to our cathedral! What a blessing to see the Church of Scranton gathered from among all its members for this Mass of the Sacred Chrism – my brother priests – our permanent deacons and their wives – Parish Life Coordinators and parish leaders – religious women and men –– our seminarians – and especially so many of you from parishes throughout our eleven counties, particularly members of our young Church who are here today. Thank you for your presence as we celebrate the Eucharist, renew priestly vows of service and bless sacred oils that will be used in the life of this local Church that we know as the Diocese of Scranton.
Henri Nouwen, the beloved priest, theologian and writer, was once asked: “Are you an optimist?” His reply: “No, not naturally, but that isn’t important. I live in hope, not optimism.”
Teilhard de Chardin, the renowned Jesuit priest, said the same thing in different words. He was accused of being overly idealistic and hopeful in the face of the many existential threats confronting the world of his day. A critic had challenged him: “Suppose we blow up the world with a nuclear bomb, what then happens to your vision of a world coming together in peace?” Teilhard’s response revealed the anatomy of hope that he embraced: “If we blow up the world by nuclear bombs, that will set things back some millions of years, but eventually what Christ promised will come about, not because I wish it, but because God has promised it and, in the resurrection, God has shown that he is powerful enough to deliver on that promise.”
For as long as I can remember, we have gathered for this sacred Mass during one crisis or another – from morale crises among members of the clergy – to societal crises that have impacted belief and church attendance – to the sexual abuse crisis – to the crises that emerged as a consequence of a global pandemic – to a crisis within our land today as so many of our country’s most vulnerable souls feel disenfranchised and uncertain about future well-being.
Yet, for all the crises that we face and the burdens that we bear, we profess today that “in the resurrection, we have” indeed “been shown that God is powerful enough” to give us reason to hope even when we are inclined to yield to despair.
The Jubilee Year of Hope that we celebrate these days affirms this assertion in reminding all of us that hope for the Christian is not simply optimism, irrepressible idealism or wishful thinking. No, authentic hope is born solely of the resurrection of Jesus. It consists precisely in this, “that in facing death, which appears to be the end of everything, we have the certainty that, thanks to the grace of Christ imparted to us in Baptism, ‘life is changed, not ended’, forever.” … As such, for the disciple, a constant encounter with the passion, cross, death and resurrection of Jesus is the essential foundation for bringing a Christian notion of hope to our world and into our lives.
Therein is our hope, brothers and sisters. But, if we’re honest, there’s a tension in this notion of Christian hope, isn’t there? While we wait in hope for our eternal salvation, the burdens that we bear can seem insurmountable and the mundane expectations placed upon us can distract us from our ultimate hope. Yet, at the same time, we believe that through the miracle of the incarnation, the very burdens and expectations that crash into our lives everyday are infused with the presence of God. They are meant to be embraced and lived fully – not merely as a pass through on the way to eternal life. … How, then, do we live and minister with hope as we confront this tension?
Pope Francis gives us a clue. He reminds us that laying the groundwork for our union with God in eternity begins in this world – with all its distractions, suffering and pain – by moving beyond ourselves and sowing seeds of hope.
Recall the context for Isaiah’s words proclaimed in our first scripture reading this afternoon. The prophet announces a word of hope to the people of Israel whose suffering had finally come to an end as they return from their exile. The vision depicted is that of a Jubilee Year – not unlike what we experience these days – when the poor will be lifted up, exiles will be returned to their homes, the oppressed will be given freedom and a season of peace and hope will be inaugurated for all those burdened by the brokenness of their world and their lives.
In the gospel passage from Saint Luke, Jesus makes these words from Isaiah his own. “Today, this scripture passage is fulfilled in your hearing.”
I’d suggest, brothers and sisters, that the operative word that Jesus shared is “today.” This day – today – through the power of the incarnation and the indwelling of the Holy Spirit, Jesus yet again invites us to join him on the journey from our places of exile to the promised land as his disciples. He invites us to bring our own stories of pain, suffering and despair as we seek to sow seeds of hope for one another. And he reminds us that those seeds are sown best when we recognize that the merciful love of God is without limit, when we confront ourselves as we truly are and when we undertake the call to live out the teachings of the Church and become instruments of God’s mercy to others.
That’s why we gather this day, my friends. We are here today to bless oils – the Oil of Catechumens, the Oil of the Sick, and Sacred Chrism – oils that soothe and refresh the wounded and broken – oils that strengthen the People of God for mission and service in the Church. In so doing, these oils that are imparted through the sacramental life of our Church become vessels of God’s grace and pathways to the very hope that we seek.
My brother priests, we are charged in a unique way to be God’s instruments in bringing that grace and life to a suffering world. From the very day of our priestly ordination, we were both set apart and immersed in the lives of God’s people to sow seeds of hope and peace.
Yet, in as much as we are called to the lofty and privileged task of being ministers of hope for one another, brothers, we often struggle to find hope for ourselves, don’t we? In the homily that I shared during the Lenten Holy Hours that I celebrated throughout our diocese, I recounted words that I’ve heard often over the years. “Bishop, we need something in our lives to give us hope!”
Quite honestly, brothers, while our people have shared those words with me, they have been spoken far more often by you. And they have been so seared into my heart that I will never forget those brother priests who have shared them with me, most of whom are here today. … “We need hope!” … We all do!
I understand that such sentiments often pertain to the various crises that I mentioned a few moments ago. … It’s difficult to have hope when we preach a message that only a few seem to appreciate. … When factors necessitate the modification of our parishes and our people struggle to make sense of the changes that will impact their lives, it’s hardly surprising that our own spirits become deflated, making it difficult to proclaim the Good News joyfully. … With countless numbers of expectations imposed on us by our people – and by me – sometimes all we can hope for is to make it to the end of day. … And which one of us isn’t affected by the suffering that so many of our good people endure in their own lives and families. And we should be, for if we embrace our ministry with even the slightest bit of authenticity, the wounds of our people are contagious.
It’s vital, brothers, that you share the struggles that weigh you down and bruise your spirits. Some of them I can change. Most of them are the cost of discipleship.
So yes, we do need something in our lives to give us hope. Yet, ironically, for as elusive as the precious seeds of hope might seem to be, they are most often hidden in plain sight. Just look carefully at this gathering. I have no doubt that if we’re willing to see beyond ourselves, we will discover rich seeds of hope.
Look first to the People of God who surround us this day with their love and support. They may place great expectations upon us in their need. But in turn, they stand ready to walk with us, to serve with us and to pray with and for us. We’ve all mused on Pope Francis’ invitation to become a synodal Church. It’s not that complicated, brothers. We just need to be humble and wise enough to allow the good People of God to occupy their rightful place within our Church, to listen to their hearts, to trust in their resolve to live out their baptism and to walk with them on the journey of discipleship. Listen to the applause that will spontaneously emerge from this assembly as you depart today’s liturgy. It is a potent gesture of love on the part of God’s people for you, their priests, and a powerful sign of hope.
We are also blessed this day to join with our brother priests at the altar where the very heart of our ministry is celebrated in the Holy Eucharist. As we renew the promises of priestly life that we first made on the day of our ordination, may we stand shoulder to shoulder with our brothers – not in competition or with indifference – but recognizing that we need one another to make sense of the ministry we have embraced, to find consolation and support that only a fellow priest can provide and to discover, time and again, the source of our life and peace as servants of the Lord Jesus. And to our brothers who have chosen not to be here today for some reason, we miss you. We’re not meant to be lone rangers. We share a bond rooted in the Lord that we need to celebrate – together.
And finally, my brothers, this day more than most, reminds us of where our true hope is to be found. I share with you once again the words of our Holy Father from his proclamation announcing this great Jubilee Year of Hope. “Feeling hopeful does not mean to be optimistically naïve and ignore the tragedy humanity is facing. No – hope is the virtue of a heart that doesn’t dwell on the past, that does not simply get by in the present, but is able to see a tomorrow – a tomorrow that feeds on the power of Jesus’ life, death and resurrection.”
Let me turn again to the wisdom of Henri Nouwen. In a remarkable passage, he both names the struggles we confront each day and the hope to which we Christians cling: “Our life is a short time in expectation, a time in which sadness and joy kiss each other at every moment. There is a quality of sadness that pervades all the moments of our life. It seems that there is no such thing as a clear-cut pure joy, but that even in the happiest moments of our existence we sense a tinge of sadness. In every satisfaction, there is an awareness of limitations. In every success, there is the fear of jealousy. Behind every smile, there is a tear. In every embrace, there is loneliness. In every friendship, distance. And in all forms of light, there is the knowledge of surrounding darkness. But this intimate experience in which every bit of life is touched by a bit of death can point us beyond the limits of our existence. It can do so by making us look forward in expectation to that day when our hearts will be filled with perfect joy, a joy that no one shall take away from us.”
As priests – as the baptized People of God – for all that we endure on this journey of discipleship, may we open our eyes to discover that “in the resurrection, we have been shown that God is powerful enough” to give us a reason to hope.
HOMILY
Palm Sunday – April 13, 2025
In 614 A.D., the King of Persia invaded Palestine, at which time he carried away many of the great treasures of Jerusalem, including the relic of the True Cross of Jesus. Fifteen years later, Emperor Heraclius of Constantinople marched into Persia and recaptured the relic of the True Cross, seeing to it that it was brought back to Jerusalem and restored to its place in the chapel located at the site of Calvary in the Church of the Holy Sepulcher that you can still visit today.
There’s an interesting story told about Heraclius as he prepared to replace the precious relic in the basilica of the Holy Sepulcher.
Heriaclius, completely covered in gold and precious stones, tried to go through the gate that led to Calvary, but he could not move. The more he tried to move ahead, the more he felt nailed to the spot. There was general amazement. Then Zacharias, the bishop, mentioned to the emperor that perhaps his ornamental dress did not suit the humility with which Jesus Christ had crossed the same threshold carrying his cross. The emperor immediately took off his grand clothes and barefoot, he moved without difficulty to the spot where the relic of the cross was to be replaced.
On Good Friday, you will notice that as we prepare to adore the Holy Cross in the Celebration of the Passion of the Lord in every Church throughout Christendom, a similar ritual act occurs as the celebrant – whether he be a priest, bishop or pope – approaches the cross. He does so only after removing his liturgical vestments and shoes. This ritual, which on its own can be perplexing, derives from the episode that I just described.
In a book entitled The Fire of Christ’s Love: Meditations on the Cross, Cardinal Raniero Cantalamessa, who served as preacher to the papal household for over 40 years, offered a reflection that speaks to this moment in history. “There is a spiritual and symbolic significance in the ritual of venerating the cross that concerns all of us, even those who do not approach the cross barefoot to kiss it. It signifies that we cannot possibly draw near to the crucifix unless we first get rid of our pretensions to greatness, to our rights, and, in other words, to our pride and vanity. It is simply not possible. We would be invisibly rejected.”
Brothers and sisters, as we stand on the threshold of Holy Week and prepare to celebrate the great mysteries of our redemption in Jesus’ passion, death and resurrection, we bring so much of life to our prayers, don’t we? But for all that we bring, may we not forget to enter these sacred days praying for the same spirit of humility that characterized Jesus’ life and his embrace of the cross.
In Saint Paul’s letter to the Philippians proclaimed a few moments ago, we’re reminded that although he was God, Jesus emptied himself and took the form of a slave – a servant. He sought, according to his Father’s plan, to embrace the brokenness and suffering of our world to save us from ourselves and all that can well up from within us to destroy our peace. In so doing, Jesus gave us a way forward in life, accepting the punishment we deserved and giving of himself so that we might live. Saint John’s gospel puts it best, “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish but might have eternal life.”
The proclamation of Saint Luke’s Passion set the stage, my friends, for all that we will commemorate during this Holy Week. May the cross of Jesus which looms not only over this cathedral but over our hearts compel us to place before it not only our burdens and our suffering but especially our pride. For when we are finally humble enough to admit that we cannot save ourselves but need to trust in a power beyond us, it is then that a space will open in our hearts to be filled by the love of Jesus – a love that alone has the power to carry us to a place of life and peace.
Therein, brothers and sisters, is the true blessing and gift of Holy Week.
Previous Homilies 2025
2025 Lenten Deanery Holy Hour – Jubilee of Hope
Rite of Election March 9, 2025
Disabilities Mass – 5th Sunday in Ordinary Time
Solemnity of the Epiphany of the Lord January 5, 2025