06/09/2026
A Homily for the Fifteenth Sunday after Pentecost
+ In the middle of the demands of each day, on Sundays as well as on ferias other than in the privileged liturgical seasons, the Monastic Office of Sext repeats ten words from the Epistle of this Holy Mass: Alter alterius onera portate, et sic adimplebitis legem Christi. (Carry one another’s burdens and thus fulfil the law of Christ.) Monks hear this injunction of St Paul hundreds of times a year—many thousands of times over a lifetime.
In repeating this injunction so frequently the Church’s Sacred Liturgy seeks to wear down and round-off the rough edges of our unconverted selves by allowing the Truth (in this case as taught by Saint Paul) to wash over us continually and wear away all that resists its force. So too, as a wise mother, the Church knows that—even (especially!)—in monasteries we need reminding of the evangelical duty to carry each other’s burdens. Benedictine monks are not hermits: they belong to a monastic family, and as we all know, families can be functional or dysfunctional, and in order to avoid the latter it is necessary to remember our duty towards its other members.
Of course, the Monastic Office is not the sole property of monks and nuns: it is one treasure of the Church’s rich liturgical tradition from which, very rightly, many lay men and women (especially monastic oblates) draw at least something each day. For in the world, as in the enclosure, we all need to return to the fundamental truths taught by the Gospels and by the Apostles, and the proclamation of very short excerpts from Sacred Scripture throughout the Divine Office serves this end most appositely.
However, let us not become protestant in our approach. The singing or praying of the psalms and other texts of the Divine Office (or of any other liturgical rite) is not primarily done for our instruction or edification. It is not ‘Bible reading’ or some form of study. No. All liturgical rites are first and foremost our placing of ourselves before Almighty God in order to render unto Him the worship that is His due as His creatures.
That, when we dispose ourselves before Almighty God in order to worship Him, we find ourselves instructed—or better, we are formed or re-formed according to God’s ways—and we are edified—we are literally built up—should surprise no one, even as its reality may continue to astonish us. For in humbling ourselves before God and by giving ourselves to Him in worship, we encounter Him in a most singularly privileged way.
Indeed, a recent Ecumenical Council of the Church went so far as to say, and very rightly, “that every liturgical celebration, because it is an action of Christ the priest and of His Body which is the Church, is a sacred action surpassing all others; no other action of the Church can equal its efficacy by the same title and to the same degree.” (Second Vatican Council, Sacrosanctum Concilium, 7) This applies just as much to a small group of monks singing the little hours of the Office as it does to great papal and pontifical ceremonies, and indeed, to a priest’s necessarily private Mass, or to laypeople praying the Divine Office by themselves. When we worship God according to the sacred rites of His Church we are opening ourselves in the most efficacious way possible to His grace, partially because the rites themselves do form and instruct us, but also because the very act of worshipping God itself opens our hearts, minds and souls to the action of His grace within us.
And let us not think for one moment that God does not wish to take the opportunity to fill us with His grace and power and healing. For what else does this morning’s Gospel teach us other than that Jesus Christ, the definitive revelation of God in human history, has pity on us in our sorrow and distress just as He had pity on the widow of Naim? His words noli flere—do not weep—are spoken to each of us by His Church this morning no matter what be the cause of our grief. Through the Sacred Liturgy of His Church, most particularly through the Sacraments of Baptism, Confession and Extreme Unction (the Anointing of the Sick), Our Lord continues to raise those amongst us who have been dead to sin to new and everlasting life.
It could perhaps be objected that the Widow of Naim made no request of Our Lord; that seemingly she had no faith in Him, etc. It could almost be said that Our Lord seemed to intrude himself on her grief. But this would be to ignore two utterly profound realities which the Sacred Text does convey. The first is that the mother was clearly weeping in her grief. St Benedict enjoins his monks to pray “with tears and fervour of heart” (Rule, ch. 52) Tears that are worth the shedding are, in reality, a most efficacious form of prayer.
The second is that compassion is of the very nature of God as revealed in the Person of His Incarnate Son. Christ became man out of love for mankind—a love that St Paul’s injunction Alter alterius onera portate, et sic adimplebitis legem Christi reminds us that we are bound to emulate. Let us ask for the grace so to do, then, as we turn to the altar in worship of He Who, out of sacrificial love, has already carried all our burdens to Calvary. +