Corpus Christi

I first happened upon St. Michael the Archangel Church quite by chance while waiting for online Mass to begin elsewhere on Mother’s Day and was so captivated by Fr. Kishore Babu Battu’s homily— an insightful, heartfelt tribute to his mom— that I returned a couple of times to replay the recorded video and soak in the love.  So, for the feast of Corpus Christi, I decided to tune in again but found, instead, a sweet priest with a boyish sense of humor and a memorable story just right for the whole family.

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Today’s homily, recorded, transcribed, and edited, was delivered by Fr. Alan Zobler, OSFS, visiting priest at St. Michael the Archangel Church in Monroe, MI.

It’s once again very good to be back with all of you and to celebrate on this, the feast of Corpus Christi.  Please bear with me for the story that I’m going to tell.  I promise I’ll do my best to connect it to the feast.

Back in September I had two consecutive weekends in Cincinnati for weddings, [so] the very first weekend I was there— between rehearsals and the time in which I needed to be there for the actual wedding ceremony— I went to a park.

Gorgeous day, and… a really nice chance to be outside when such a strange part of our year was still unfolding.  I was sitting at a picnic table over this beautiful escarpment.  I can’t remember the valley that I was looking over, but it was just this wonderful summer-nearly-beginning-of-fall day.  And I was grading papers since the school year had just begun.

People were gathered but distanced from one another that afternoon and, as people passed, there was one individual who stood out from everyone else.  This man had his dog on a leash and, close behind, was a goose, like, on high-alert close proximity.

I said, “Sir!  Be careful there.  You’ve got a goose coming up on you.”  And he just looked back saying, “Ah, that’s fine.”  But I couldn’t take my eyes off them.

When the man went over to a spigot to get his dog some water, the goose was right behind.  The man splashed water in the goose’s face, too.  And they were in tandem, doing everything together until the man dropped the leash, stepped away, and walked about for a few minutes.

I was fixated.  What was going on?  I couldn’t imagine a man walking a goose along with his dog.

The man picked up the dog leash.  “Okay, let’s go!”  But the goose didn’t budge, so the man kept talking with passersby.

“How long have you had the goose?” someone asked.

“We’ve had Bobby five or six months now.  We taught the dog to ring a bell so that we know to let him out.  And Bobby does the same thing.  Wherever the dog goes, Bobby goes along with.”

My jaw dropped.  How does a goose think it’s a dog?

The man started to leave.  “Bobby!  Let’s go!”

The goose followed but, along the way back to the car, the goose got distracted.

“Bobby!” the man called out.  Nothing.  Then, about a hundred feet away, the man yelled one more time.  “Bobby!  We’re leaving!  Let’s go!”  And off the goose waddled.

Now, I promised to relate this story to today’s gospel, so here’s the rest of the story.

In response to the question that the man was asked— “How did you get the goose?”— he replied, “Last March I was driving back to our ranch when I spotted a family of geese, along with the mother, on the side of the road.  I thought they were all dead but, when we got down, this little guy ran over and swooped up Bobby.  And he’s been with us ever since.”

So, on this feast of Corpus Christi, I think of families in distress: families that seem to have been abandoned on the side of the road; families that have been neglected, rejected, forgotten; family members that have been separated from each other because of their misdeeds.  Some are facing desperate times, like that baby goose on the side of the road; but there’s something greater than life’s circumstances.

We have God who swooped down and simply loved us; God who, in our darkness, brought light; God who, in our brokenness, brought healing, forgiveness, and grace.  God didn’t just take us in and say “come on into my home, come into my life;” but invited us in a very real way to take part in his divine life.

Born out of a place of love, bread and wine can become something truly redeeming when it comes from a place of love, sacrificing love, love that trusts, love that surrenders, love that journeys with others and is willing to take whatever dark moment and make heaven known.

Brothers and sisters, this feast that we celebrate today is absolutely born out of love.  And, the good news is that it’s here for us every day of our faith journey.  May we never take it for granted.  May we be continuously transformed by it.  May our hearts be focused on making sure that we become Christ-like for others.  And, through our efforts, may God be blessed.

Links of interest…  Archdiocese of Detroit…  Corpus Christi: celebrating / feast / origins / sermons / story…  Mass (world-wide listings)…  Fr. Kishore Babu Battu, SAC (Mother’s Day Vigil Mass)…  Fr. Zobler’s sermons…  St. Michael the Archangel Church: archives / history / links / look inside / Mass / prayers / website…

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