Homily for the Feast of the Conversion of St. Paul

Listen to the recording of the homily here:

Before entering seminary, I had an opportunity to go on a pilgrimage in Rome. We arrived later in the evening, and it became quickly apparent that the Wi-Fi  in our hotel was terrible. So, like any good tourist group, we went in search for internet, and found it in abundance at a nearby coffee shop. We got our espressos, and then… the group fell silent… because all of us were glued to our screens.

It was right about then that God suddenly pricked my heart. I took a sip of my espresso, looked up from my screen, and glanced around the coffee shop.

I thought to myself: This is crazy. We’re spending our first night in Rome… on our phones?

So I resolved to visit a nearby church instead, and stumbling along, I managed to find one (not very hard in Rome). Mass was just ending, and after the final blessing, the entire congregation seemed to lurch forward and hurry towards one of the chapels near the front of the church. Naturally, I went to see what the big deal was.

As the chapel came into view, I realized what everyone was looking at: Hanging inside the chapel was Caravaggio’s gorgeous painting of the Conversion of St Paul. I was completely astonished. It was one of those intensely full moments when you JUST KNOW you’re exactly where God wants you to be, when you’re absolutely locked into the Spirit’s Presence — When you believe in your bones that God is real.

I remember praying in that moment: “God, please knock me down off my horse whenever and however you want: You have my permission.”

I pretty much floated back to the hotel, so grateful that God nudged me away from that espresso bar, and more deeply convinced than ever before of His love for me personally, and for all us sinners.

Today the Church celebrates the Feast of the Conversion of St. Paul. And I think my experience that night of being blindsided by Caravaggio’s beautiful painting gives a glimpse into what this feast day is all about:

That Jesus is astonishingly real. And he chooses the perfect moment to interrupt our lives in a compellingly attractive, yet unobtrusive way — He’s somehow able to demand our attention without being obnoxious or manipulative. He gets us out of our own heads, off our phones, away from all the distractions of the espresso bars in our lives — And why?

To prove to us that He is Love.

That He is the trustworthy Master of our hearts.

That what He did through the Cross and Tomb has changed us forever, and now we belong to Him.

Paul had to come to grips with all this when Jesus Christ crashed into his life along the road to Damascus — literally blinding him with Love. 

Afterward, he would spend the rest of his days totally astonished by the reality of what Christ had done for him, allowing that fact to impact every aspect of his life.

So on this Feast of the Conversion of St. Paul, the question I ask is: Has Jesus become astonishingly real in your life? Or is he still more of an abstract concept? A nice system of ideas?

If you’re having trouble answering that, think of this: The Eucharist we are about to share is not a nice idea. It’s really, truly the same Jesus Christ who crashed into Paul’s life on the road to Damascus so long ago with a blinding light.

He now crashes into us.

That is astonishing.