Holding aloft a lightsaber during a Holy Thursday homily, Father T. Austin Murphy Jr. certainly caught the attention of his parishioners.
With the toy weapon from the Star Wars franchise glowing for all to see, the pastor of Christ the King in Glen Burnie and St. Bernadette in Severn referenced how Jedi masters passed it from one generation to the next.
His objective wasn’t a lesson on the finer plot points of the big-screen space saga.
Father Murphy compared the passing of the lightsaber to his sacred chalice, passed down to him from his uncle, the late Baltimore Auxiliary Bishop T. Austin Murphy. It’s through the Blood of Christ and the tradition of the church and the sacraments that all share in a heritage of faith, Father Murphy told his congregation.
“They remembered that I lit a lightsaber in front of them,” Father Murphy recalled, “but what’s more important is that they remembered what my point was.”
Priests and deacons throughout the Archdiocese of Baltimore take a wide variety of approaches to packing punch in their homilies. Some, including Father Murphy, sprinkle pop culture references into their messages. Others place the readings into historical context or explain how doctrinal or moral teachings apply in an increasingly secularized culture.
All strive to make homilies meaningful and memorable – messages that can be reflected on in the days and weeks that follow Sunday Mass.
Father Murphy said he draws his inspiration from Christ, who taught in parables and included current events in his teachings. The priest never uses pop-culture references gratuitously. They’re always connected to theological or spiritual points that flow from the readings of the Mass, he said.
“For people who come to Mass and are not necessarily that grounded in the pietistic and theological tradition of the church, they’re looking for an easy ramp to get into the Scriptures,” said Father Murphy, who only occassionally employs props. “When I use comparisons to pop culture, it makes it a lot less threatening and a lot more understandable. Yeah, you’re still giving them the meat and potatoes, but you’re also giving them a little dessert, too.”
Father Matthew Buening, pastor of St. Katharine Drexel in Frederick, said there is a “paradox of preaching.” The homily is the least important part of Mass because it’s not Scripture and it’s not the holy Eucharist. Yet it might also be considered the most important part because it’s what people often remember the most from the liturgy, he said.
“People aren’t there for a theology lesson as much as they are for how does this affect me in my life,” Father Buening said. “The homily is a way people can really be connected to the liturgy and it can speak to them in different ways than the prayers that we have memorized or that we’ve heard every week.”
Father Buening and Father Murphy, like other priests and deacons, typically study and pray with upcoming readings days in advance. They noted that it’s important for clergy to maintain their own spiritual lives and to embrace and live what they preach.
“Whatever the priest says, if he can’t convince the people that it is important to him, then why is it going to be important to them?” Father Buening said.
Father Justin Gough, chaplain at Mount St. Mary’s University in Emmitsburg, agreed.
“A preacher needs to be credible and authentic in the way he lives his life,” Father Gough said. “Otherwise, it’s just words, and people can find words anywhere.”
Homilists have an obligation to preach what the church teaches and not go off on personal tangents, Father Gough added. That’s especially true at the Cathedral of Mary Our Queen in Homeland, where he previously served as associate pastor.
“I always find myself asking, ‘If the archbishop was saying Mass here and I was preaching for him, would it be in step with his vision?’ ” Father Gough said.
Noting that St. Paul advised to say the things people need to hear, Father Gough tries to be clear and succinct in his homilies. He sometimes takes an unexpected approach, such as delivering a cathedral homily on the Solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity in the form of an imagined Socratic question-and-answer session with Floyd, the priest’s Corgi puppy.
“The Holy Spirit does a lot of work when we’re preaching,” Father Gough said. “I think a lot of times he’s running a lot of interference, taking whatever comes out of my mouth and conditioning it so that when the person receives it, they receive it as God wants them to receive it, which is good because obviously the preacher is really just shooting in the dark when it comes to saying the right thing that’s going to speak to people.”
Fathers Murphy, Buening and Gough try to keep their homilies to about eight minutes – the length recommended by Pope Francis. But others in the archdiocese give longer homilies, especially those who serve in Black congregations that often expect lengthier sermons as part of their cultural tradition.
Deacon Wardell Barksdale Jr., a retired deacon at St. Bernardine in West Baltimore whose wife of 46 years gives him feedback as he prepares homilies, said his sermons tend to last at least 20 minutes. He makes them interactive, using a call-and-response approach familiar to African Americans and sometimes incorporating singing. He once gave a homily about Jesus pulling Peter from the water after his faith was shaken, with the deacon going into the congregation and randomly reaching out to a parishioner and pulling him up.
“They caught on to what that meant,” Deacon Barksdale said, “that we are all called to do the same to other folks – to pull them up when they need to be pulled up.”
People want to be challenged, Deacon Barksdale said. He is most gratified when people come up to him days after a homily to continue a conversation about something he preached at Mass.
“A homily is not the end to it,” he said. “It’s just the beginning.”
Email George Matysek at gmatysek@CatholicReview.org
Also see: Father T. Austin Murphy: What I did on my Christmas holiday
Also see
Copyright © 2024 Catholic Review Media
English
Spanish