The Dust of the Road: Homily for March 24, 2016, Holy Thursday

On August 6, 2014, ISIS militants invaded northern Iraq, confiscating homes and businesses and beginning what would become a massive Christian genocide. Christians had to choose: pay heavy tax, convert to Islam, or die. Countless people were slaughtered, many beheaded. Tens of thousands of people fled their homes, many with just the clothes on their backs, escaping into the desert.

Some of those who escaped were young men from a seminary in Quaraquosh. They managed to make their way to Lebanon, where they eventually resumed their studies at another seminary.

By the grace of God, last Saturday, March 19, the feast of St. Joseph, four of those young men were ordained deacons. In a few months, they will become priests.

But Saturday’s ordination was something extraordinary. It didn’t take place in a cathedral or basilica. Instead, the men returned to Iraq.

At their request, they were ordained in a refugee camp.

A priest told Catholic News Agency: “They chose this church specifically because they wanted to be close to the people who suffer.” He added that it would be a sign of hope to the universal church. “Despite the difficulty,” he said, “there are vocations, youth, who give themselves for the Church, to serve the people of God. This is important in our times.”

One of the young men explained the location another way. It only made sense to be ordained in the camp, he said, because “we are refugees.”

Tonight, as we commemorate the institution of the Eucharist and the institution of the priesthood, and begin this sacred Triduum, I want you to remember those four men. They stand before the world as emissaries of hope. They are reminders of what this night and this Triduum are about: love and sacrifice, solidarity and suffering.

And this evening the words of that one seminarian should humble us all.

Because it is true: we are refugees. Every one of us.

The church reminds us again and again that we are a pilgrim people. One of our most cherished prayers, “Hail, Holy Queen,” refers to our life on earth as “this, our exile.” We are in exile, adrift, raising our eyes to the place we yearn to be, the home where we long to be welcomed—like the Prodigal aching to be back with the father.

Yes: we are refugees.

And this gospel we just head reminds us of how far we have traveled.

Last September, when Pope Francis came to this country, he visited men at a prison in Philadelphia. He spoke to them about this very gospel passage. “Life is a journey, along different roads, different paths,” he said “which leave their mark on us…. Jesus wants to heal our wounds, to soothe our feet which hurt from travelling alone, to wash each of us clean of the dust from our journey. He doesn’t ask us where we have been, he doesn’t question us about what we have done. He wants to help us to set out again, to resume our journey, to recover our hope, to restore our faith and trust.”

And the Holy Father explained: “Life means ‘getting our feet dirty’ from the dust-filled roads of life and history. All of us need to be cleansed, to be washed. All of us are being sought out by the Teacher, who wants to help us resume our journey. The Lord goes in search of us; to all of us he stretches out a helping hand.”

This is where we find ourselves tonight.

Read the entire homily here. 

Image: Wikipedia