Sing

When you live in the same house as the Vocations Director, you really have to do things up for the World Day of Prayer for Vocations...

   Fourth Sunday of Easter   C 

Readings

In the midst of all the other news—

so sad and distressing—

coming out of Boston these past several days,

I suspect many of you have seen some footage

of Wednesday night’s Bruins-Sabres game. 

It was the first major sporting event in that city

following last Monday’s bombing of the Boston Marathon. 

Before play got underway,

teams and fans both paused for a moment of silence

in tribute to the victims. 

And then Rene Rancourt 

stepped forward

to sing the Star Spangled Banner—

just as he has done 

whenever the Bruins

have taken the home ice 

since 1976. 

But only a couple of lines 

into the song,

Rancourt lowered his mic 

and let the crowd take over,

in one of the most beautiful 

and moving renditions

of our beloved national anthem

that anyone has ever heard.

It began with one voice—

strong, recognized, and reliable.

It was then picked up by just a few.

But soon, 17,000 people—

including, no doubt, 

many who would otherwise

claim that they can’t sing a note—

were belting out those lyrics 

penned in battle

not quite 200 years ago.

It was loud—very loud—

but the song echoed not only because of the volume.

The familiar text was clear,

but it conveyed a message far greater than it’s words.

On this Good Shepherd Sunday, Jesus says:

My sheep hear my voice;

I know them, and they follow me.

During this Year of Faith,

we’ve been encouraged to look back

at all the many examples of faithfulness who have preceded us.

As a whole, we look to the Saints.

But as individual believers,

we can look back to people much closer to home.

I’m sure we could all give names of men and women—

family members, friends, and neighbors;

priests, religious sisters, and lay teachers—

who built up the Church, often in the face of many hardships.

I—for example—think of my grandparents.

Like John in his vision, we see a great multitude,

of every nation, race, and tongue,

who have survived times of great distress,

trusting always that the Lamb will shepherd them.

But during this Year of Faith,

we are also encouraged to look ahead.

I think of my nieces and nephew.

I think of our young parishioners soon to be confirmed

or receive their first Holy Communion.

With so many voices in the world

contradicting or rejecting the Gospel of Christ—

much as it was when Paul and Barnabas preached in Antioch—

I wonder:

What will become of them?

What will become of their faith?

What will become of these parishes—of this Church?

There’s great comfort in knowing
that we stand on the strong shoulders

of those who have gone before us.

Yet there’s also great danger in growing complacent.

How do we make sure that the Good Shepherd’s voice

is heard—loud and clear—in our world today?

For 50 years, this 4^th Sunday of Easter

has been designated as the World Day of Prayer for Vocations.

In particular, we are encouraged to pray

for vocations to the priesthood,

since without priests none of the other vocations can stand.

(Without the priesthood, there can be no Eucharist…

…and without the Eucharist, there can be no Church.)

In his message for this annual observance,

now-Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI

cited these striking words of Pope Paul VI from back in 1964:

The problem of having a sufficient number of priests

has an immediate impact on all of the faithful:

not simply because they depend on it

for the religious future of Christian society,

but also because this problem

is the precise and inescapable indicator

of the vitality of faith and love

of individual parish and diocesan communities,

and the evidence of the moral health of Christian families.

Wherever numerous vocations

to the priesthood and consecrated life are to be found,

that is where people are living the Gospel with generosity.

When I arrived as your pastor almost three years ago,

I was in for quite a culture shock:

I was leaving two relatively small parishes

in a rather quiet corner of the Adirondacks;

I was coming to now shepherd four parishes,

which together form the largest Catholic community

in the entire Diocese of Ogdensburg.

As I’ve described it, I went from basically being a one-man-band

to conducting a major symphony orchestra!

That musical metaphor 

continues to speak to me.

The Catholic priesthood—you see—

is not about being a soloist.

Yes, we priests are charged 

by Christ and the Church

with teaching the words 

and starting the song…

…but we’re never intended 

to be singing it by ourselves.

As the challenging words of two Popes make clear,

we must all join in the singing.

The vocation of each one

depends on the vocations of all the others—

whether to holy orders or marriage,

to religious or single life.

In the Church, there can be no casual bystanders.

Everybody’s got a part to play, and every part is essential.

Use the voice God gave you—

no exceptions, no excuses!

And we need to make sure

we’re all on tempo and in tune.

We all know what it’s like

when we’re singing or saying the various parts of the Mass,

and someone in the crowd’s a little fast or a little slow,

or slips back into the old translation of the Missal:

it quickly throws the whole thing off.

So, too, when we willingly stray from Church teaching.

To try and croon to our own beat

only serves to compromise the music

and draw attention to oneself.

But while we need to sing together,

we must also realize that

we can’t and we shouldn’t all sing the same way.

Some sing bass while others sing soprano,

and if there weren’t any diversity

then there wouldn’t be any harmony, either.

We’ve all been made and remade in God’s likeness,

yet we’re not all cut from the same mold.

And so we must listen closely to each other

if we hope to achieve the right blend.

On this Good Shepherd Sunday,

we must all recommit ourselves

to calling forth young men 

(and maybe a few older ones)

to conduct the music taught us by Jesus.

But we must also recall

that this isn’t really about a chosen few—

as if preaching to the choir.

We’re talking about a melody

which ought to resound 

beyond these sacred walls

and be heard in our daily living.

In the midst of a frightening 

and tragic week,

a single patriotic song 

sung at a single hockey arena

brought comfort and hope 

to many, far and wide.

Then just imagine what can happen

when we all—

with full heart and mind and voice—

join in that unending hymn

which alone has the power

 to save the world!

So sing—

that the Shepherd’s voice 

might be heard.