The
CATHEDRAL of OUR LADY of the ANGELS
DEDICATION LITURGY
Monday, September 2, 2002
10:00 AM
His Eminence
Cardinal Roger M. Mahony
Archbishop of Los Angeles
H O M I L Y
Scriptures:
Nehemiah 8: 1-4a, 5-6, 8-10
Psalm 19: 8, 9, 10, 15
1 Peter 2: 4-9
Luke 19: 1-10
It
is truly fitting that we begin today’s celebration at a site alongside
the El Camino Real. The 18th century Spanish Franciscans trod, up and
down that fabled road, as California’s first evangelizers. They
inaugurated God’s active plan of salvation for all who, ultimately,
came North and West to make their home in this golden State. Today we
are writing an important chapter—not, assuredly, the last—to
that unfolding story of God’s saving intentions for the people
of California. We celebrate the Liturgical Dedication of the Altar and
the Cathedral of Our Lady of the Angels in our State’s most diverse
and decidedly most global city.
Today, we offer our
praise to God for this new Cathedral Church. Yet we do not gather here
simply to celebrate its architectural and artistic achievements. These
give homage to God and, together, we speak our thanks for the inspiration
and artistry engraved in this soaring edifice. But we gather here mainly
to reflect more deeply on the significance of this Cathedral Church.
We have just heard Scriptures
which invite us to understand the Cathedral, not primarily in the context
of the sweeping Los Angeles skyline, but more profoundly, within the
rich faith tradition paved, as a layered memory, in the El Camino Real.
That tradition impels us to consider three points:
• How our new Cathedral Church can make us more aware of God’s
presence in our everyday lives;
• How hearing God’s transforming Word might truly change
our lives and send us forth to live out that Word;
• What it means for us as a people to be built up, stone by stone,
into that spiritual house, the living temple of the Lord.
I.
GOD’S PRESENCE IN OUR MIDST
In
today’s first reading, Nehemiah and the people finish restoring
the city’s devastated ancient walls and gates, destroyed by Israel’s
enemies. Once desolate and demoralized, they now realize once more God’s
presence with them, and allow that presence to be more deeply rooted
in their lives. Nehemiah convokes them; invites them to listen afresh
to God’s Word; reminds them that God journeys alongside them in
their city, in their daily treks, and in their lives.
For the Jewish people,
the visible and eternal city of Jerusalem and its temple were the bedrock
for their often fragile hopes, a gleaming reminder that God’s
tent was pitched in their land. These visible signs of God’s dwelling
among them—holy city and temple—gave direction to their
own journey through life.
St. Luke’s Gospel
recounts how Jesus responds, first, to the desire of Zacchaeus to see
Him from afar, from the safety of the sycamore tree; then to Zacchaeus’
hope that Jesus might enter his house, his life, and, indeed, transform
him in ways he never would have dreamed. But this smallish Zacchaeus
must first find a good vantage point— a place from which he could
see Jesus – a sycamore tree.
Does not this longing
in the heart of Zacchaeus evoke a similar yearning deep within our own
hearts to see God, to know His gentle and enduring presence? Like the
Jewish people of Nehemiah’s time, like those living in the time
of Jesus, and like the pioneer evangelizers who traversed the length
of California, we, too, yearn to have some visible anchor of God’s
presence within our midst. Our new Cathedral is that anchor for the
ages.
Today, the Cathedral
of Our Lady of the Angels joins the storied ranks of the early Missions,
the first permanent structures built across the California landscape.
It sinks its foundations in the very heart of the City of Los Angeles,
astride today’s El Camino Real— today’s less colorfully
named Hollywood Freeway—where it will stand and soar for many
centuries as a sign of God’s enduring presence in our lives and
community.
Millions of people travel
the 101 Freeway each year. I expect that many will have their lives
brushed by God—some profoundly changed—as they glance at
the Great Cross on the east side, or the grand Campanile on the west
side. The road which leads to this spot becomes a different kind of
camino real, closer to the route the Friars first imagined, a road to
Christ our King. Many motorists may exit the freeway allured by this
towering icon of God’s dwelling with us. Within every human heart
stirs some, often unnamed, thirst for its Creator. No substitute can
ever quench that deep-seated thirst. In the shadow of his outpost Cathedral,
the Bishop of Hippo, St. Augustine, wrote: “You have made us for
yourself, Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in you.”
Like Zacchaeus, we,
too, long to see Jesus. Unlike Zacchaeus, however, we need not search
out a fragile bough on a sycamore tree. The Cathedral is our perch.
From here we glimpse our great city of many cities, the home of peoples
of many races, lands, and languages. As people cast their eyes upon
this perch, from their many perches in downtown office skyscrapers,
or from one of the vistas along Temple or Grand, or from one of the
many major freeways converging near here, hearts will catch up with
where eyes have set their gaze. At long last, there is a noble Great
Church at the heart of Los Angeles, radiating out toward the civic and
governmental hub, the commercial, residential, and cultural focal points
of our city—all astride the historic and history-laden El Camino
Real.
But this Cathedral must
be much more than an optical delight for those who chance upon its beauty
in the shifting shadows of the day. We might ask, with the poet John
Dunne, for whom this Cathedral bell doth toll? For those who lie ill
in the USC—County Hospital and other nearby hospitals and rest
homes, the peal of the great bells in the Campanile will ring a sound
of solace. For the elderly and lonely, dwelling within the circle of
these bells’ sway, its tolling might become, in time, a familiar
echo, evoking remembered joys. For those, in the too-many and over-populated
jails downtown, we pray that the ringing of these Cathedral bells soften
their fettered burdens and instill some sense of inner peace that no
one can snatch away. For our Catholic sensibilities, the sounding of
Church bells ring out a clarion message of good news: we are redeemed,
even us sinners, and summoned by the bells to a close intimacy with
God.
Is all this splendor
and architectural artistry enough for us? Can we rest content with the
beauty arising from this spot? We must answer, an emphatic “NO”!
Not as a kind of cultural treasure was the Cathedral built. As a vibrant
symbol of God’s habitat in our city, this outer form must find
an echo in the inner graces of a people who listen intently to God’s
Word as it comes to us as challenge and consolation.
II.
THE TRANSFORMING EFFECT OF GOD’S WORD
Once they restored the
walls and gates of Jerusalem, Nehemiah and Ezra gathered the people
and began to read to them “ the book of the law of Moses, which
the Lord had given to Israel.”(1) They listened as the Word of
God was proclaimed and they heard it, as if for the first time. As today’s
Scripture recalls: “…and the ears of all the people were
attentive to the book of the law.”
Nehemiah and Ezra not
only read God’s Word but broke it open so that the people could
savor its meaning and put it into practice. The people who received
that Scripture with open hearts wept, as it dawned on them how frequently
they had been unfaithful to that Word. But the ministers in the restored
temple convinced them not to mourn. Rather, they stirred the people
on to find unutterable joy in the Word which embraced them: “This
day is holy to the Lord your God… the joy of the Lord is your
strength.”(2)
The Word of God is fruitful
when it truly transforms us. In today’s Gospel, Zacchaeus embodies
this transforming faith. Like few others, he came into a direct personal
contact with Jesus the very Word— the Son of God. This encounter
remarkably shook up Zacchaeus. He welcomes Jesus into his home, despite
the mocking ridicule of the self-righteous who scorned him as an outsider.
Zacchaeus realizes that his past life stands in sharp contradiction
to the person of Jesus toward whom he is now so urgently drawn. With
spontaneous gratitude, he volunteers: “Behold, half of my possessions,
Lord, I shall give to the poor, and if I have extorted anything from
anyone I shall repay it four times over.”(3)
This Cathedral exists
to effect in us an extraordinary transformation like that of Zacchaeus.
Only a deep personal encounter with God’s Word can bring this
about. It is not enough that we merely hear the Word of God here, or
take note of it as “interesting.” Rather, just as Zacchaeus,
who had not set out that morning with any inkling of welcoming Jesus
into his home that day, so, we too, must welcome the Word and allow
ourselves to be transformed by it.
Only when that occurs
will this majestic Cathedral begin to fulfill the dream and meet the
expectations which have been ours from its beginnings; only when that
happens will it be worth all the effort, struggles and resources poured
out to make this Cathedral a reality. Only when that happens does this
structure merit the name, “Cathedral.”
When the transforming
Word of God takes root in our lives, the light of God can light up our
hearts. As the psalmist so ardently prays: “ In your light, we
see light.”(4) One of the most conspicuously beautiful features
of this building stands forth when the sun’s beams are at play
across the interior of the Cathedral, highlighting nuanced colors and
patterns, refracted through the alabaster that laces this space. This
evokes an awareness of the brilliant light of God’s love soaking
into us and bathing us with its warmth and healing.
No one should leave
this spot untouched by God’s reshaping Word. A traveling family,
tourists, truck drivers or a carpool of co-workers on the Hollywood
Freeway; an isolated person or small group coming for prayer; people
in the neighborhood for whom this will be their regular place of worship—as
much their local church as a great Cathedral—each will feel God’s
own touch and presence and be opened to the light of God touching their
own deepest places, the geography of their own hearts.
God’s Word always
calls us to move beyond our fears and limitations, to take risks that
will fashion us more and more into God’s image. Anyone who comes
here should continue on their journey with a replenished spirit of respect
for all other peoples—in a special way, rendering thanks for the
gift of ethnic diversity in this great urban center. No traces of discrimination
or racism are to be found in this space. God’s temple is a house
for all peoples. All are invited to the banquet. No one is excluded
because of race, color, gender or national origins. Nor, as Zacchaeus
shows us, is this a place only for those who manage to keep each and
every detail of the law.
Be assured that the
fullness of the Gospel of Life will be proclaimed here, and each human
life, from its earliest moments to its eldest years, will find in this
place nurture and respect. We will work together here to heal differences,
be they among family members, co-workers, or sectors in the city. The
great Cathedrals have been shaped by the craft and loving skills of
countless artisans, many anonymous. Here we will strive to become different
kinds of artisans, of peace and goodwill, forging links among diverse
groups.
Touched by God’s
Word, we sense that we are inter-dependent, one people, one community.
All must profit from our bounty and be empowered to share in the good
things for which Los Angeles is known across the globe. God’s
Word calls us to nothing less: no one can be excluded; one neighborhood
must not be walled off from another. The gifts received within these
walls must overflow as we leave this space.
III. A PEOPLE BUILT INTO A SPIRITUAL HOUSE
A Cathedral achieves
its destiny when the mystery of the Church is fully lived out: in the
gathering of God’s People; in the celebration of the Eucharist
and the sacramental life of the Church. Every Eucharist is both a gathering
and a sending, and both are only possible by the prior action of God.
The reading from the
First Letter of Peter reminds us that Jesus, the corner stone, was sent
by the Father to renew all creation. Peter then urges us to allow ourselves,
like living stones, to “be built into a spiritual house to be
a holy priesthood to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through
Jesus Christ”.(5) God surely dwells within His people, “a
temple built of living stones, founded on the apostles with Jesus Christ
its corner stone.”(6)
God continues to build
up the Church, the Body of Christ, as a holy city, “enlivened
by the Spirit, and cemented together by love.”(7) The 135 men,
women, and children visible along the walls of the nave serve as our
models. The saints and blesseds call us to be ever more faithful in
our discipleship with the Lord Jesus, as we move forward with them to
the fullness of the kingdom. The power to become a new spiritual house
of the Lord flows from the Word of God, but just as potently, that grace
emanates from the celebration of the Eucharist. The power of the Eucharist
is expressed symbolically and spiritually through the concentric stone
floor circles that begin at the base of the Altar and eventually envelop
everyone in the Cathedral.
As we journey out from
the Cathedral, we encounter the plaza or Cathedral Square, a vitally
important part of this hallowed ground. St. Thomas More, we recall,
situated his Utopia, his conversation about a more humane and
just city, in the Cathedral Square before the towering Cathedral in
Antwerp. In our Cathedral Square, the dreams of cooperative living—even
with those who never darken a Cathedral’s door—will drift
across the plaza stones. Linked to Cathedral Squares throughout the
ages, and throughout the world, it is from our plaza that we go forth—forging
links to commerce, in the fairs and selling booths; links to politics,
in the concerned voices for a more just society. The plaza is a venue
for outdoor dialogue about the greatness that we, together, might achieve
as a city.
Links across social
classes are also strengthened. The great Bishop, St. John Chrysostom,
insisted that the poor and rich mingle in the square, expressing the
unity celebrated in the Eucharist. We are linked, too, in those celebrations
which remind us that God is glorified when the human family is fully,
even playfully, alive: in the fiestas and religious dramas outside the
Cathedral steps. Here in Los Angeles we have built a capacious plaza
which demonstrates the relationship of the Cathedral to the longings
of our larger city. Hearing the words “The Mass is ended, Go in
peace,” we are sent forth to be a leaven and a light at the heart
of this city, every city. It is the Spirit of God, Spirit of Christ,
impelling us, doing more in and through us than we could ever ask or
imagine.
IV. CONCLUSION
It is the one and same
Spirit who led the 18th century Franciscans to evangelize California,
carrying the Gospel message as they trod the Camino Real. It is the
Spirit of God, Spirit of Christ, who has challenged and consoled generation
after generation of Catholics throughout Southern California, and today
has gathered us here for the dedication liturgy of the Cathedral of
Our Lady of the Angels.
It is the same Spirit
who is stirring now in our hearts as we ready to make the Profession
of Faith for the first time in the Cathedral, our voices rising in proclamation
of a living faith from the time of the apostolic church until now, at
this time and in this place. Let our proclamation echo to the ends of
the earth: We believe in one, holy, catholic and apostolic Church. We
stand amidst that blessed communion of saints, women and men, young
and old, heroic and humble, sung and unsung, as we prepare to invoke
their names in litany. Hallowing the altar with the relics of Saints
and Blesseds we are unceasingly reminded of the faith of those who have
gone before us, leading us onward, interceding for us and strengthening
us in our call to holiness.
And as we lift up our
hearts in the prayer of dedication of the Cathedral altar, we enter
more fully into the mystery of Christ’s Church, a Church fruitful,
holy, favored, and exalted. For the Church is the very Body of Christ—member
for member—a living sacrifice of praise to the glory of God the
Father. Transformed by the Word, strengthened by the celebration of
the Sacraments, we, the Body, become a spiritual house, a living temple
of the Lord, more radiant still than the hallowed ground on which we
stand, and even more resplendent than the grandeur which today we behold.
From this day forward, the stones of this building will sing, echoes
rolling down the ages, telling of love and justice(8) through the lives
of all who come and go from this “house of prayer for all peoples.”(9)
(1) Nehemiah 8:1
(2) Nehemiah 8:9
(3) Luke 19:8
(4) Psalm 36:10
(5) 1 Peter 2:5
(6) Prayer of Dedication, Rite for the Dedication of An Altar
and Church [hereafter, “Rite”]
(7) Preface, Rite.
(8) Psalm 101:1
(9) Isaiah 56:7
