HOMILY FOR CLOSING OF FORTY HOURS DEVOTION Church of the Holy Cross + Sunday, 4 March 2018 Fr. Spencer Howe, Parochial Administrator +++

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1 HOMILY FOR CLOSING OF FORTY HOURS DEVOTION Church of the Holy Cross + Sunday, 4 March 2018 Fr. Spencer Howe, Parochial Administrator +++ Permit me an extended quotation from Christopher Dawson, the English historian of culture and convert to Catholicism. Like many of the immigrants who put down roots in this neighborhood, established their families here and built the churches of Northeast Minneapolis, Dawson had the experience of crossing the ocean and making the passage from the old world to the new. Arriving in New York City in 1958 to begin teaching at Harvard, he looked out over the Manhattan skyline, both struck and saddened by what he saw: In Europe the influence of the past is still strong and one is everywhere conscious of the existence of the pre-technological order No one from the Old World can land at New York without being immediately impressed by this spectacle of gigantic material power, and if one sees the city at night from the air, outlined in lights, it is almost more impressive. There is nothing like it in Europe or I think anywhere else. It seems to mark the coming of a new age and a new civilization. Yet at the same time we cannot help being struck by a certain disproportion between means and ends. For when one asks what is the real end for which all this majestic array of power exists, the answer is a disappointing one. The towers and temples of Manhattan are just business offices, and the language of illuminated signs which make the nights of New York so brilliant only proclaim the quality of some commercial product. This is so familiar to us that we take it for granted as the normal way of life. But viewed in the perspective of history it is a very strange and surprising thing. 1

2 The ancient Egyptians built pyramids that were even greater than the skyscrapers of New York, in terms of human effort expended, but they were for the tombs of God-Kings. The relatively poverty stricken peoples of medieval Europe erected vast cathedrals and abbeys, but these were the expression of their common faith and their hopes for eternity. But to-day we build temples greater than the Egyptian pyramids or the Gothic Cathedrals and they are dedicated to toothpaste or chewing gum or anything that anyone wants, so long as enough people want it. One of the sad facts of the second half of the twentieth century is that even the construction of houses of worship (and especially Catholic churches) became ambiguous as to what the edifices meant, what they were for. Many settled for mere utilitarianism and functionality, others stand in outright scorn for the traditional modes of church architecture, others obscure the transcendent purpose for which they were built and do not remind those who entered them what they were there to do: namely, to worship the Living God. This last pitfall sheds light on the Lord s zeal for the Temple which caused Him to purify it and drive out the moneychangers who had obscured the reason for the Temple s existence by making it into a place of commerce, busyness and this-worldly preoccupations. The beauty of the Temple became cluttered and profaned. But none of this is true of this magnificent church of the Holy Cross. This structure is utterly unambiguous as to the reason it was built. As we turn in here today on this cloudy and rainy afternoon in early March, we understand the purpose of our coming: to adore our Eucharistic Lord in spirit and in truth. Glorious though it is, our worship falls short, but it still hints at and strives after that most lofty of goals that will be fulfilled only in the Heavenly Liturgy. 2

3 Dawson s point however is not so much about churches facilitating our encounter with God, but rather about the way in which the skylines of our new civilization are dominated by buildings erected for much baser purposes than the glory of God. Quite simply, ours is an age of forgetfulness of God, forgetfulness of our first origin and final destiny as human beings created in the image and likeness of God. So much that dominates our landscape here in cities across America is ephemeral, secular, purely thisworldly. Praise God then, for the towers and spires of the churches of Nordeast! They remind us they invite us they stir our hearts: not only out of sentimentality about our past memories but their present summons to humbly adore Christ who is present here in the Blessed Sacrament. As I have often described the churches that form our multi-campus parish, they are lighthouses, lit from within to bear witness to our transcendent destiny, to remind those who pass by that we are not made for technical sophistication nor for the accumulation of wealth, nor the unbridled pursuit of pleasure, nor for any other reason but the vision of God and the sharing of His life. Moving into the city this past July, this is the first time that I have lived within sight of the downtown zone that is the twin city of St. Paul. Urban life has been to me a strange mix of excitement and disillusion. It has prompted the rediscovery of the evangelical spirit that has filled the hearts of the missionaries of every age. From the first baptism on the bank of the Mississippi in 1680 at the hands of the Franciscan Explorer, Fr. Louis Hennepin to the establishment of St. Anthony of Padua in 1849, to the founding of other territorial and ethnic parishes to serve various groups of 3

4 immigrants in this area, and the gradual building and rebuilding of churches, there have been constant efforts to establish and maintain fitting dwelling places for the Lord. Perhaps the crowning achievement of faith for this neighborhood was the completion of this Church of the Holy Cross in Indeed this neighborhood along the Mississippi has its roots deep in the Gospel; we see in the proliferation of Catholic parishes of Latin and Eastern rites a true flowering of Eucharistic faith that expresses the Universality of life in Christ. How true it is that although the demographics on this neighborhood have shifted and continue to shift, this universality should propel our ongoing efforts at outreach and mission. Our bond as a neighborhood will be manifested once again this June 10th with our fourteenth annual Northeast Eucharistic Procession. Thank you to Chorbishop sharbel for his initiative, to Fr. Glen Jenson, former pastor of Holy Cross, other priests from the neighborhood and procession organizers. As you depart from this glorious church out the side transept door, take a good look at the Minneapolis skyline: nothing of what you see there soaring to the heights was standing when this church was built. The historic Foshay Tower, once the tallest building now dwarfed by the new glass and steel towers was completed less than two years after Holy Cross church. As with most ephemeral architecture, much if it will become dated and be torn down and replaced, as it was not built to last. This church however is perennial, designed for the generations as a place of the soul s encounter with God. It was not erected for anything as trivial as toothpaste or chewing gum, but rather as a place to feed upon and repose the true and super-substantial food of the Eucharist. 4

5 For a church to open out onto University Avenue, and the commuter highway that it has become, is spiritual quite symbolic. As life rushes by, this way and that, Christ abides silently and patiently in this Tabernacle, gloriously (and with utter humility) exposed at the center of this golden monstrance. What is on offer here is precisely what was on offer in the great medieval and baroque sanctuaries of the old world: the very life of God, poured out for us; Truth Himself speaking truly; beauty that transcends thisworldly concerns and stirs the heart to heavenly longings. As the world spins, the Cross and the Eucharist which was won upon it stands firm. The reading from Proverbs has always struck me as profoundly hopeful, not only for those of us who already acknowledge God s Wisdom at work in the Church, but also for those who might stumble along in desperation or frantically race past without noticing. Wisdom builds and sets up her columns not to keep people out but rather to allow outsiders to be drawn in. The invitation goes out in every generation, To any who lack sense I say, Come, eat of my food, and drink of the wine I have mixed! Forsake foolishness that you may live; advance in the way of understanding. Lent is this kind of invitation; these Forty Hours of focused adoration and Eucharistic devotion have been our response as a parish to this invitation. Each of the matched columns of polished marble (I counted 18 this morning) of this great edifice stand to remind us of the seven columns with which Divine Wisdom has built her house for the wedding feast of the Lamb. The Fathers of the Church understood many symbolic meanings of the seven columns in our first reading, but my favorite suggestion is that the house that Divine Wisdom builds is founded upon the seven columns of the Sacramental Life 5

6 of the Church, all flowing from the pierced side of Christ upon the Cross, symbolized by the flow of blood and water. Christ s wounded side, like the doors of this church, allow access to the very heart of God. The work of building did not fall only to an earlier generation. We must continue building something beautiful for God upon these foundations of Eucharistic Faith. We will not labor in vain so long as it is the Lord, the Master Builder who directs and sustains our efforts. May the continued efforts for the ongoing revitalization and renewal of the Catholic Faith here in Northeast Minneapolis be always rooted in the Eucharist. This has been the meaning of these Forty Hours that we have passed with our Eucharistic Lord and the reason for all the Forty Hours that have come before for so many years. In this final hour, may our hearts swell in gratitude for His Sacred Presence in this great church, in all the tabernacles of the world, and in us who receive Holy Communion in living faith. +++ O Sacrament Most Holy Scriptural Readings: Proverbs 9:1-6; Psalm 78; John 19: