Omni

A homily for the Sixth Sunday of Easter, May 22, 2022

Acts 15:1-2, 22-29, Rev 21:10-14, 22-23, Jn 14:23-29

Souvenez-vous que nous sommes dans la sainte présence de Dieu.

What does “omnipresent” really mean?

When we assert that God is everywhere, what are we saying?

Is God a ghost, haunting us but always hiding in our shadows so we can’t see her?

Is God some sort of dust we need to sweep off a chair before we sit down, lest we somehow squish him?

Is God the air? And if so, how do we account for vacuums?

Does God call us from work every afternoon and remind us to do our homework and put down fresh water for the dog?

Is God spying on us, ready to jump out with a gotcha the instant we step out of line?

Is God a googolplex of side-by-side manifestations, or is God the size of — or bigger than — the known universe, or universes, stretched infinitely across all of them, and across everything and everyone in them?

Does God’s Almighty power allow our Creator to be uniquely present as a friend and mentor to me, and to you, and to you and you and you, simultaneously?

Is God’s omnipresence something to celebrate or should we be nervous/anxious/afraid/terrified?

What does “omnipresent” really mean?

We may need to be omnipresent ourselves to find out. And as far as we know, that just ain’t happenin’.

For our limited mortal brains, all we need to know and believe is that God is everywhere in everything, and that God is pure love, mercy, forgiveness and justice.

God is Good. None better.

God is Here and Now and Always.

(Digression Time…)

Way, way back when I was in fourth or sixth grade (it’s so far back I can’t remember for sure), the sisters at St. Leo the Great School realized that Donna Freyer and I had maxed out that year’s reading lessons, so they plunked us into a then-experimental French class with Sister St. Pius and the eighth-graders. And for the rest of my St. Leo’s days, I could effect a Pepé Le Pew accent with the worst of them.

When I got to CBA, I opted to stay with French for no practical reason other than I could slide for the first semester. 

At all schools run in the tradition of St. Jean-Baptiste de la Salle, classes and other gatherings start with brief prayers:

Let us remember that we are in the holy presence of God.
St. Jean-Baptiste de la Salle, pray for us!
Live Jesus in our hearts, forever!

Of what little French I remember, the opening mantra, translated for our language class, has stuck with me:

Souvenez-vous que nous sommes dans la sainte présence de Dieu.
Let us remember that we are in the holy presence of God.

Omnipresent.

In whatever ways we experience The Ultimate Reality, God is with us.

In the shower. In the garden. In Shore traffic on the Parkway. 

At our highest highs and our lowest lows.

God’s love is in us and around us, wrapping us like a fuzzy blanket or a suit of armor or both.

God is in everyone we meet, and people who greet each other with “Namaste” are paying homage to the divine spark within the other person.

God’s constant presence enables us to transform any or all of our thoughts and actions into prayers.

God needs no temple, as our passage from Revelation reminds us, though God is more than happy to be present in all the temples built to focus our attention on God’s presence.

No, God needs no temples, but we do.

We humans need camaraderie; Heaven knows we need it more than ever after years — years! — of pandemic lockdowns and isolations.

We humans need to compare notes, to share our insights into life and, whether we realize it or not, into how God has made their presence known in our lives.

Christians, and especially Roman Catholic and other high-church Christians, need to gather for the spiritual nourishment of the Body and Blood of Christ through the Eucharist, in the physical manifestations of bread and wine.

We use our time in the variety of God’s houses so that The Word can guide our life’s course corrections. We use our time with The Word to energize us and ignite our rockets of action for social justice and the salvation of all Creation.

And when we need a rest, we hang out with God and family, for God is the center of every family on Earth. 

Omnipresent. What a magnificent gift.

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Published by

Bill Zapcic

Husband. Father. Brother. Friend. Journalist and consultant. Roman Catholic deacon. Lover of humanity. Weekly homilist and occasional photographer. Theme images courtesy of Unsplash.com.

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