My dear brothers and sisters in Christ,
Grace and peace to all here present in Christ Jesus!
This evening, we gather in prayer to pray in a particular way for the Diocese of Birmingham in Alabama. I express immense gratitude to Bishop Baker for his years of dedicated service as a true shepherd who loved the heart of Christ. This evening, as I welcome all of you, I beg for your prayers for me as I am about to embark on this new chapter in the Diocese of Birmingham. I remember in a particular way, my family, especially my mother Mary and brother Joseph for their abiding encouragement and support over these many years. They are watching on EWTN tonight. I send them my embrace of warmth and affection. We may be far away in miles, but we are close as a family in our hearts. The distance and the unusual time we are experiencing have them at home in Marquette, Michigan in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. I also welcome the priests, family, co-workers and friends from the Diocese of Gaylord, Lansing and other places who are part of our celebration tonight. Also, the priests, religious and faithful of the Diocese of Birmingham who are here tonight. I feel a little bit like it’s a “getting to know you” … “getting to know all about you” experience! It’s mutual!
As we contemplate where we have been and where we are going, I feel a little bit like a speaker I heard a few years ago at the New York Encounter. He was the architect chosen for the monumental task of completing La Sagrada Familia, the famous church, now a minor basilica in Barcelona, Spain. The project to build the church began in 1882 by Francisco De Paula del Villar, the original architect. He resigned very shortly later. Antoni Gaudí took over as the main architect overseeing the construction of a massive church with a unique style combining Art Nouveau and Gothic features which incorporated nature and religion into architecture. Gaudí became consumed with this project. It became his life’s work. At the time of his untimely death, it is said that he was struck by a tram in 1926 as he was on his way to St Philip Neri Church for his daily prayers and to go to confession. Only a quarter of the church was constructed in 44 years.
The church had other problems to face because it relied on private donations. Of course, there were setbacks because of the Spanish flu in 1917-1918 and then the Spanish Civil War in 1936-1939. During the war, insurgents broke into the crypt and the workshop destroying Gaudí’s original designs, drawings and plaster molds. With little money and almost no one to carry on the work and design, it slowed down to a snail’s pace the construction of this monumental church.
The point of this is that in recent years, a stone cutter from Japan was passing through Barcelona in 1978 and became fascinated with the construction project. His name was Etsuro Sotoo. He wasn’t Christian at the time. As he became more and more curious about the project, he expressed great interest to help out. He was hired to continue the work of the sculptures that were necessary for the Church to move toward completion. But because of lack of plans and designs which had been destroyed, he had to rely on his imagination. As it turned out, as he struggled with the project, he came to understand that his technical expertise lacked one essential component for him to grasp the scope of what had to be done. He describes it in a simple way. Sotoo, in his own faith journey, concluded: “I had to learn to look where Gaudí was looking.” Once he could see what Gaudí was seeing, he knew and understood what had to be done. That looking, that searching, that honesty was his spiritual journey opened him up to an ineffable presence ultimately bringing him into the faith. A good portion of our spiritual journey is precisely like that. It depends where we are looking. Where are we looking? What are we looking for? What are we hoping to see? What are we longing for – questions that cannot be answered by science or the accumulation of material goods but something more. We know that somehow and someway we are incomplete, a masterpiece that God wants to build. Where are we looking for that inspiration that transcendent quality that lifts us up out of the doldrums and helps us experience the embrace of God’s tender mercy and love. God helps us put together the pieces that we can’t put together ourselves. At once blind, but now we see!
My brothers and sisters, during these few past months of the pandemic, we have journeyed together. We have missed our gatherings for Sunday Mass. Most often, we heard from our faithful how much they treasured the reception of communion. I also heard from priests how much they valued having a physical congregation before them. The lack of receiving Eucharist and having a congregation increased our mutual longing and yearning for the presence of Christ in the Eucharist. Even so, our lives as Christians, as disciples of Christ, were never suspended. We began to hunger for that which we lacked. At times, like the Hebrews in the desert with Moses, we grumbled and complained. All the more, we heard the cry of desire and need. The Eucharist was not merely something mundane, it touched something transcendent that we know we needed and cannot live without. During this Eucharistic fast, we identified with those in the peripheries, those who are often left out; those who are searching and struggling; those who are sick and cannot come to Mass; those who are imprisoned; those whose dignity is not respected; those who are paralyzed looking for a way forward. Our gatherings are like Sotoo, looking for something beyond ourselves that will help us make sense of the design that God has for us.
As a church community, we know that God has a plan for each of us. We share the promise and hope that we will understand one day the great design, the blueprint that God has for each of us. Christ says to us in simple words: If you want to see what God’s plan is for you, then “follow me.” “I am the way, the truth, and the life.” Ours is a great desire to see what was so curious to the saints, what they saw and get a glimpse of those who are pointing the way.
Tonight, we as Church commemorate two particular martyrs who were contemporaries in the late 15th and early 16th centuries: St Thomas More and St John Fisher, a bishop. Much could be said about their steadfast and abiding faith. Couldn’t we say, they knew where they needed to look to in order to maintain the conviction of their faith, especially to live their faith in the midst of the social and political upheavals of their time? Perhaps, we can learn from their conviction not to become distracted by the winds of change. St Thomas More, perhaps said it best: “You wouldn’t abandon ship in a storm, just because you couldn’t control the winds.”
Yes, quite honestly, we face winds today. We all know it – from the recent pandemic to the more recent political and social upheavals in our cities and society. After all, don’t you hear the words of Christ when the storm broke out on the Sea of Galilee and our Lord was fast asleep on a cushion? In a panic, they woke him in fear and trepidation. He rebuked the winds and immediately the winds quieted down. «“Why are you so afraid?” He asked.“Do you still have no faith?” Overwhelmed with fear, they asked one another, “Who is this, that even the wind and the sea obey Him?” (Mk 4:40-41)». Yes – who is this? Who is this who can calm our unsettled hearts?
My friends, today we embark on a new chapter for the Diocese of Birmingham with our eyes fixed on Christ. Like building Sagrada Familia, we will add to it, yet we may never see the finished product. We may be subjected to winds and distractions that pull us away from our noble mission. We may, at times, think that the plans have been lost or destroyed, and want to give up. We may feel our boat tossed about in a storm. We wring our hands wondering what to do next. But, then, a light shines in the darkness: a presence that helps us see our way forward. We can see again, that with God’s inspiration and help, we become the artisans again who have taken the raw materials He has provided, creating a masterpiece that we hand on to future generations to complete. We know where we need to look for that inspiration. We must teach others to do so as well. It will give hope and meaning to our task – to give us the vision. In a time of uncertainty, we know the certainty that we long for is found not in an ideology or to the left or to the right – but in an abiding and overwhelming presence that accompanies us. It is Christ, who comes on the scene and whispers to each of us very simply: “Follow me.”
By the way, Sagrada Familia, means “Holy Family” – the place where we can become truly ourselves under the pattern and model of Jesus, Mary and Joseph. Through the gaze of Christ, we know we are welcomed as sisters and brothers. For us, too, it must be the place where we know we belong, part of God’s great design. May it be so for all here in the Diocese of Birmingham.
God bless you all!
+Steven J Raica
Bishop of Birmingham in Alabama