“Lord, teach us to pray.”

Following is the prepared text for Bishop Olmsted’s homily for the 17th Sunday of Ordinary Time and his farewell Mass at the Cathedral.

 

July 24, 2022

On the day of my ordination as a bishop, I was asked, “Do you resolve to pray without ceasing to almighty God for His holy people and to carry out the office of High Priest without reproach?”  I gladly responded, “I do, with the help of God.” From the day I was appointed to serve as the Bishop of Phoenix, it has been my duty and my honor to pray for all of you. At the same time, I am grateful for all the prayers you have offered for me. Prayer is an act of love.

The Sacred Readings of today’s Mass explain why every bishop promises to pray for his people. Jesus says, “Ask and you will receive, seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you” (Lk 11:8). Prayer makes a difference. God hears and answers us when we cry out to Him.

Jesus wove prayer into every dimension of His life. Already as a child only twelve years of age, He longed to spend time in God’s presence. Remember when He got separated from Joseph and Mary during their annual pilgrimage to Jerusalem? After searching three days and finally finding Him in the Temple, Mary asked, “Son, why have you done this to us?” Jesus replied, “Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?” His longing for the presence of His Father was like a magnetic force in His heart that He could not ignore.

When Jesus began His public ministry, prayer permeated every part. When difficulties arose, He never allowed them to keep him from praying. In fact, whenever there were crises, His prayers became even more frequent and fervent.

Before Jesus chose twelve of His disciples to be Apostles, He spent the entire night in prayer. In today’s Gospel, He describes prayer as “going to a friend at midnight” to beg food for an unexpected need. The Lord’s constancy in prayer — in the morning, afternoon, and even at midnight — shows us its vital importance for living and walking in God’s presence. This is true not only for priests and bishops, but indeed for all the faithful. All of us need to be men and women of prayer, especially in our noisy world.

The regular practice of prayer frees us to hear the voice of God and to respond. Daily prayer helps us to keep the eyes of our heart focused on the Lord.

Prayer helps us to recognize and receive the Lord whenever He comes, whether it be in Eucharistic adoration, or while meditating on the Sacred Scriptures, or interceding for those God gives us to love.

Jesus encourages us to pray with “filial boldness.” He says, “I tell you, all that you ask for in prayer, believe that you will receive it and it shall be yours” (Mk 11:24). “Such is the power of prayer and of faith that does not doubt: ‘all things are possible to him who believes’” (CCC #2610).

Prayer, however, is impossible for the proud and arrogant, “for everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and the one who humbles himself will be exalted” (Lk 18:14). “Humility is the foundation of prayer” (CCC #2559).

On the day after Joseph Ratzinger, the future Pope Benedict XVI, was ordained a priest, he begged God’s grace to remain humble. As he entered the church for his first Mass, feeling overwhelmed by the affection and admiration of the people in his hometown, he kept repeating to himself in his heart, “It’s not about you, Joseph. It’s not about you.”

As I draw near to my retirement as bishop of Phoenix, I am aware of my many shortcomings and sins, so I ask God for His mercy, and ask all of you for your forgiveness and prayers. At the same time,  I overflow with gratitude for the privilege of being a priest for the past forty-nine years and being your bishop here in Arizona for the past nineteen. Throughout this time, I have had the privilege of lifting up and paying homage to the most sacred and wondrous reality: the real presence of Jesus in the Eucharist.

Some years ago, I had the privilege of bringing Holy Communion every week to Rosie, a young woman with severe intellectual limitations. She could speak only a few words, incomplete phrases. She had the mental capacity of a little child. But every Wednesday afternoon, she and her father were waiting for me to bring her Holy Communion. Each time, as I held up the divine host, with a broad smile on her face, she would say: “Amen!” As she received Christ in the Eucharist, she was one with our Lord and Savior, the King of the Universe. Rosie knew far more about God than the smartest atheist at Harvard. She knew she was loved by God our Father and His Beloved Son Jesus.

Only by opening oneself in faith to God can this treasure of faith be received. As Jesus tells us, “No one knows the Son except the Father and no one knows the Father except the Son and anyone to whom the Son wishes to reveal Him” (Mt 11:27). How blest is Rosie, and how blest are you and I, to know, to taste, and to see the goodness of the Lord in the Eucharist. Knowledge of God is His gift to the childlike. The “wise and learned” of this world can also come to know God (and He desires that they do) but, if they do so, it is not due to their intelligence but to their acceptance of the gift of faith.

St. Paul wrote to the Colossians, “Think of what is above, not of what is on earth. For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God” (3:2f). “Hidden with Christ in God” — so much of what we do for love of Jesus is hidden. No one else knows if our heart is set on Him, if we have surrendered our life into His hands. When we do hidden things purely for the sake of Jesus, solely out of love, things like praying in the middle of the night, our friendship with Him grows.

How many hidden things does a mother do for her baby, a father for his wife and family, doctors and nurses for their patients, teachers for their students, and an elderly person through the Rosary. These hidden things will not make headlines in the paper, will not win earthly praise. But they help us to put God first, and to put the needs of others ahead of our own.

What a blessing to be free to imitate the love of Jesus.