By Archbishop Thomas Wenski - The Archdiocese of Miami
Archbishop Thomas Wenski preached this homily while celebrating a Mass to mark the 70th anniversary of Blessed Trinity Parish in Virginia Gardens, Nov. 4, 2023.
Well, 70 years might not seem like a long time for a Church that is almost 2,000 years old; but here in South Florida, where almost everything seems to have been built the day before yesterday, 70 years is certainly something to celebrate! Here in the archdiocese, which was founded 65 years ago, in 1958, many parishes are celebrating 60, 50, 40 years – a testimony to the tremendous growth of our region in the second half of the last century. Bishops in the north celebrate anniversaries of parishes that are much older: 100, 150 years or older. Here, I’m older than most of our parishes. In fact, one time I was at a celebration, and someone asked where is the relic? And the altar server pointed at me and said: There he is.
The word, parish, is derived from the ancient Greek — pa-roi-ki-a —; the Spanish, parroquia, is much closer to the original Greek than its English equivalent. It meant a sojourn in a foreign land, or a community of sojourners. And so when the Hebrew Scriptures were first translated into Greek, pa-roi-ki-a was used to describe the Israelites as they sojourned through the desert on their way to the Promised Land.
As Catholic Christians, to say that we are parishioners of this or that parish is to identify us as members of a pilgrim people, a group of sojourners called forth by God. To say that we are parishioners is to acknowledge that we sojourn in the way that his Son, Jesus, opens before us. We Catholics are members of the new People of God, the New Israel, established by Christ on the foundation of the 12 apostles. We know that here on this earth we have no lasting dwelling place, for our citizenship is in heaven, our true Promised Land.
Our parishes, where the community of sojourners meet, are then like way stations, rest stops, along our pilgrim way. Blessed Trinity, of course, is much more than just a simple way station or rest stop: It is truly an oasis.
The history of this parish, like any history forged by a fallen humanity, will have shadows as well as lights. There’s a saying that every saint has a past; but then, every sinner has a future – thanks to our Lord Jesus Christ who suffered, died, and rose again to save us. We should not be surprised that the Church which Christ founded to save sinners is — well — full of sinners. Yet, the Church is holy — and she is holy not because of us but because of the Spirit that is given to her.
So, to tell the story of this parish is to tell the story of people who, under the leadership of their parish priests, created an extraordinary community of faith, hope, and love.
In our contemporary culture, we face some strong head winds. Ascendant secularism is eroding the faith of so many people. “Secularism,” I tell kids at my confirmations, “is a 50-cent word — but it describes what happens when a person or a society pretends that they can live their lives or organize their society as if God doesn’t matter.” That’s “secularism” in a nutshell. And today, where do you hear outside of Church that God matters? And if God doesn’t matter, people made in his image and likeness won’t matter either. If God doesn’t matter, the unborn child won’t matter; the migrant won’t matter; the battered woman or trafficked child, the infirm or the lonely, aged person, won’t matter.
Parish life is not something merely incidental to us as we make our life’s journeys. Perhaps this might be the most enduring lesson to be learned as we put the pandemic in our rear-view mirrors. We are social beings — we need each other, we need community, and we need God. Parishes should be “schools” of prayer and communion, places where love of God and neighbor come together and thus parishes — as way stations along our sojourn — keep us from becoming “of the world” and they enable us, as we sojourn in the world, to be always “for the world.”
The Gospel reading speaks to us of “knowing our places.” Humility is a great virtue. The world tells us that it is good to be important – and so we see people chasing after money, power, or plunder, so that might seem to be important in the eyes of others; but Jesus wants us to understand that it is more important to be good. And that requires a bit of humility. But remember, humility doesn’t mean thinking less of yourselves. It means to think of yourself less. And so, as Jesus suggests, humility – rightly understood – will take you to the higher places.
In the Gospel acclamation, we heard Jesus’ words: Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart. Today, the universal Church celebrates the feast day of St. Charles Borromeo, a bishop and cardinal around time of the Council of Trent. He was born to a position of some influence and affluence – his uncle was a pope who made him a cardinal and Bishop of Milan. But he is remembered for his humility: He gave away most of his money, introduced many reforms into the life of the Church. He cared about people and wanted them to know that the Church of God cared about them as well. Again, humility is not thinking less of yourself – but thinking of yourselves less.
Here at Blessed Trinity, after 70 years, many have come and gone — among them were some saints, and to be sure many sinners — and today we lift in prayer those pioneers — priests and people —who were here at the beginning and have gone home to the Lord.
So, as we celebrate this jubilee today, may you strive to be, in all humility, both a reconciled and a reconciling community. May you remember the past with gratitude, live the present with enthusiasm, and look forward to the future with confidence.
