Seventh Sunday of Easter, May 12, 2024 – Acts 1:1-11; Ephesians 4: 1-13; John 17:11-19

Why are you a Catholic? And, in the words of Dr. Phil, “How’s that working for you?”

In today’s First Reading, a great fuss was made over finding a replacement for Judas Iscariot. A great fuss. And it was done in the most bizarre way. It was done by gambling. They cast lots to see who would win. And Matthias won. And, after that, you never hear from Matthias again. He disappears from the scriptures.

Now, ancient Church history tells us some things about what happened to Matthias afterwards. The problem with ancient Church history is that it’s not verifiable by other sources. Hardly anything about Christianity is ever mentioned in any secular sources written at the same time. But there seems to be two strains of thought about what happened to Matthias.

One strain of thought says he worked his way around the Mediterranean, from the shore of roughly where Tel Aviv is today, up into western Syria and southern Turkey, and he died in a little town in Cappadocia, right where the Caspian Sea meets the Black Sea. And then he was crucified there. The other strain of tradition says that he never left Jerusalem, preached and ministered there, and was executed by being beheaded. The only thing that the two stories agree on is that he suffered a martyr’s death.

But, since the Middle Ages, there have been two different days on which they celebrate the Feast of St. Matthias. Our Roman Catholic Church celebrates it this coming Tuesday, May 14th. So do the Lutherans, the Episcopalians, some Byzantine Rites, and some Orthodox Rites. Others in the Orthodox Church and some other Christian groups celebrate him on February 24th. The reason for the two dates is that the Church decided, sometime in the late Medieval ages, that February 24th was not a good day because it fell so often during Lent and then the Lenten celebrations took precedence over the Feast of St. Matthias, so they moved it to a safe date where we could always celebrate his Feast Day. That’s what we know. Not very much. 

That helps us, though, in some ways, to understand the first questions I asked you. We could say about St. Matthias that his becoming an Apostle was haphazard but there is history connected with him, that he pretty much is anonymous, and that it was dangerous for him to be an apostle.

For most of us, our becoming Catholics was haphazard. For about 95% of people in any congregation, on any given day, they were born Catholics. Just an accident of birth. But, as Catholics, we have a history. Why are you Catholic? Because, probably, at least one, or in most cases, both of your parents were Catholic. And you can probably trace your Catholic history back a bit. I can trace my Catholicism on my mother’s side of the family back at least to my great-grandparents, for whom I actually have photographs. On my father’s side of the family, I can trace my Catholicity back at least to my great-grandparents, for whom I have no photographs, just a couple of family stories. 

But you and I - I mean, if I weren’t a priest - you and I are fairly anonymous in our daily lives. Your family, your close friends, maybe a few associates know you are Catholic. Most of the rest of the world encountering you doesn’t know that you’re a Catholic. If you live like a good human being, your goodness is indistinguishable from the goodness of other human beings. But you know that its motivation is very likely the teachings of Christ. Even though maybe nobody else knows that about the way you behave. But, if you are at least as old as junior high school, you’ve probably found that being a Catholic was uncomfortable at some point in your life or vaguely dangerous. Twice in my life, simply because I was a Catholic priest, I was either physically harmed or psychologically assaulted. It just goes with the territory. We take it for granted that some people are not going to like us for what we stand for. 

The Feast of St. Matthias. The story of Matthias in today’s First Reading reminds us that being Catholic means being haphazard, having a history, being anonymous for the most part, and living dangerously.