Homily For Valentine's Day

 

HOMILY FOR VALENTINE’S DAY

We’ll begin this Valentine’s reflection by focusing upon the ritual flow of the Mass. Roman Catholic worship involves more than just gathering together, listening to scripture, and raising our voices in song. We employ the elements of bread and wine, drawing from the example Jesus provides at the Last Supper. Bread and wine are brought forward by volunteers recruited from within the assembly. The elements will be received, placed upon the altar, prayed over, transformed, and finally distributed to those who approach the altar in procession. When the worship concludes, those who have gathered are sent forth, tasked with the responsibility of enriching the wider world, as leaven brings texture and elevation to the bread that you bake in your oven. In fact, the word “Mass” derives from the Latin expression: YOU ARE SENT. We are enriched and fortified, for a particular purpose: the purpose of impacting the wider world, making the Kingdom of God increasingly present. 

In the Catechism, we learn that the Mass needs to be understood as both a meal and also as a sacrifice (1362-1372). From a Catholic perspective, we are gathering around an altar, not a table. Positioned above the altar you will see a crucifix, not an empty cross. This signifies a connection with the event that took place on Calvary, 2000 years ago. On Calvary Jesus offers the one perfect sacrifice. Temple sacrifices were the norm, but they accomplished something temporary, something that would have to be regarded as rather limited. There never has been and never will be a sacrifice that speaks in the way that Calvary was able to speak. It’s literally the sacrifice to end all sacrifices. So how then can we refer to the Mass as a sacrifice? 

Recall the liturgical moment when the bread and the wine are brought forward. Appreciate the fact that it takes many grains to form one loaf of bread. And furthermore it takes many grapes to form one container of wine. As the bread and wine are brought to the altar, recognize yourself as one of the grains. Recognize yourself as one of the grapes (an insight originally presented by Cyprian of Carthage, and reaffirmed by Bishop Fulton Sheen). You’re offering yourself to the Lord, through the symbols of bread and wine. They will become transformed through a process known as “transubstantiation” (a term coined by St. Thomas Aquinas). As you share in what has been transformed, you yourself take on an aspect of transformation. And then what? Then, you go forth to enrich the wider world. 

How do you know that your offering will be accepted by God the Father? He can be counted upon to accept your offering, because you are offering yourself in union with the perfect offering of Jesus Christ on Calvary. Remember that we call it “communion” when you consume the consecrated Bread and Wine. You are, to some degree, “piggybacking” on the offering made by the Lamb of God. By way of illustration, we can turn to the world of Peanuts. In one instance, we get to look in on Peppermint Patty and her friend Marcie. Marcie has crafted a homemade Valentine card for Charlie Brown. The card Peppermint Patty is working on doesn’t measure up to the card produced by Marice. Therefore, she sets aside her card and she makes the following request: Can you add my signature to the card you’re going to send? At this, Marcie objects: You can’t get away with piggybacking on someone else’s Valentine! 

Nevertheless, from a sacramental point of view, that’s exactly what we are doing when we participate in the Mass. Jesus makes the perfect offering to God the Father. Through the ritual action, we are allowed to offer ourselves to the Father, in union with the offering of Jesus the Son. We offer ourselves, and it becomes a nourishing experience for us. In this sense, the Mass can be seen as both a sacrifice and also a meal. Why do this on a continual basis? It’s because we want to keep the relationship alive. Husbands and wives say “I love you” to one another, not just on their anniversary, not just on Valentine’s Day, but they do so according to a regular pattern. It keeps the relationship fresh and alive. 

Looking back to the sacrifice on Calvary, we hear something about a centurion who stands at the foot of the cross. What a privilege for this centurion! To be there at that singular moment! How does he respond? He makes a profession of faith: Truly this was the Son of God (see Matt. 27:54; MK 15:39). Through the Mass, this privilege is passed along to each and every one of us. We get to have our own Jesus moment. By processing forward, toward the altar and the crucifix positioned above the altar, we are being led to the hill of Calvary. We get to say amen to the sacrifice of Jesus. We get to accept his sacrifice as a sacrifice on our own behalf. And it becomes a nourishing experience for us. At the Last Supper, Jesus makes it clear that he wants this ritual practice to be carried out perpetually (LK 22:19). Additionally, let’s bear in mind that he could have instituted this ritualized prayer at an earlier stage in his ministry. But he deliberately chooses to wait, until the night before his death. In other words, the Bread and the Wine have everything to do with what happens on the hill of Calvary. The Calvary experience becomes available to us through the miracle of the Mass. 

Jesus promises to remain with us always, to the end of the age (Matt. 28:20). Soon after making this promise, he will ascend into Heaven. Does this represent a contradiction? How can Jesus remain with us if he’s now residing in Heaven? It all goes back to the upper room. He institutes the Eucharist so that we can encounter him in the consecrated Bread and Wine. Again, we do this week in and week out, so that the relationship can be kept fresh and alive. This is the way it works for spouses. They kiss and they hug; these are concrete gestures. These are concrete gestures carried out on a regular basis, so that the relationship can be kept fresh and alive. If these gestures are reserved for the occasion of their anniversary or for Valentine’s Day, then the relationship will degrade into something cold and stale. 

Speaking of Valentine’s Day, don’t overlook the fact that it can be traced back to someone who was ordained as a servant of Christ. The original St. Valentine was a physician who converted to the faith during the mid-part of the third century. He converts and eventually is ordained into the priesthood. In his role as a physician, he visits those who are being held as prisoners—many of them charged with following the outlawed religion of Christianity. The day comes when he is exposed as a Christian. This leads to his being locked up as a prisoner. The jailer’s daughter shows concern for him, and a bond begins to develop. As he is taken away for execution, he leaves behind a note for her. How does he sign it? He signs it: Your Valentine.