Exultation of the Cross

 

Homily

Feast of the Dedication of the Lateran Basilica in Rome

November 9, 2025

 

Isn’t this a beautiful space? I have the honor and pleasure of supervising weddings here and I always begin with that statement. I then follow with just a few of the main attractions – the large window, the bishop’s chair (do not sit there; you don’t want that kind of responsibility), the Blessed Sacrament Chapel, the St. Paul Relics Chapel, and, of course, dedicated to our original benefactor, the Bishop Maes Crypt Chapel. This is a sacred space.

 

Take a moment to look around. From wherever you are, near the back, towards the front, under the great window or choir loft, even from the presider’s chair, the stained-glass windows and murals, the columns and woodwork, everything looks a certain way. Now remember a time you were in a different place or even a different time of day. Everything looks a little different, from a different perspective. We can only look at something, or someone, from a specific perspective, from where we are. God looks at us from every perspective. We can’t do that because of our created limitations, but we are called to try. We are called to see others from their perspective, from where they are. It takes effort on our part to leave the comfort of our perspective and see them from theirs. That is how God sees us.

 

There are only four major basilicas; St. Peter's, St. Paul Outside the Walls, St. Mary Major, and, of course, St. John Lateran, whose dedication we celebrate today. Its dedication reminds us that every church building is a sacred space, set apart for the worship of God and the gathering of His people. There are over 1900 minor basilicas in the world, and that number grows as the Pope issues new titles. Italy has the most at over 500. A basilica is a church building designated by the Pope as having special privileges due to its historical, spiritual, or cultural significance. The term comes from the Greek basiliké, meaning "royal hall," reflecting its importance.

 

The Basilica of Saint John Lateran is the cathedral of the Diocese of Rome and the official ecclesiastical seat of the Bishop of Rome – the Pope. Its full title is: Archbasilica of the Most Holy Savior and of Saints John the Baptist and the Evangelist at the Lateran, Mother and Head of All Churches in the City and the World.” Quite a mouthful!

 

It was founded between 312–324 AD by Emperor Constantine the Great and dedicated on November 9, 324, by Pope Sylvester I – this is the feast we celebrate. It is called the “Mother Church” as it precedes St. Peter’s Basilica in rank. St. Peter’s is larger and more famous, but the Lateran is the Pope’s true cathedral. Every Pope is installed here as Bishop of Rome. It has hosted five ecumenical councils shaping Church doctrine on sacraments, clerical reform, and crusades. Its dedication feast reminds Catholics that every diocesan cathedral (not just the Vatican) is a “Lateran” in miniature – the heart of local Church life. In short: St. Peter’s is the Pope’s parish church; the Lateran is his cathedral.

 

Many beautiful cathedrals, basilicas, churches and chapels grace the world, and many less attractive ones also exist. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. What makes a church beautiful? Is it the stained-glass windows, the intricate woodwork, the elaborate murals, the elegant marble? Is it the statues of our Blessed Mother and all the saints? Is it the altar? Yes, and more! But what makes a church truly beautiful? Is it the people that fill the pews? Yes! And is it the resident of that tabernacle? Yes! Christ our Bridegroom and we, the Bride of Jesus, the Body of Christ, all of us, make the church, this Cathedral and all churches beautiful, sacred, sacramental. And as we are sent forth after this Mass, we become Christ in the world, making the entire world beautiful, to see the world and all who are in it from the perspective of God.

 

And if we want to get even more intimate, we, our very bodies, become temples, when we receive Christ in the Sacrament of the Eucharist. In a few moments, when our gifts are offered, when the priest says those cherished words, when we come forward and receive the very Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity of our Lord, it is then that we become temples, the tabernacle where Christ Himself dwells, truly, substantially, sacramentally, intimately.

 

Our first reading shows us how life proceeds from the living water, the water that flows from the temple, trickling along, emptying into the sea, making the sea water fresh, providing for abundant life. This is the Holy Spirit pouring from Christ, the true Temple. We, through the living waters of Baptism, produce good fruit. We, by the life of Christ in us, share this gift of abundant life-giving water with others.

 

Our Responsorial Psalm shouts of the river waters gladdening the city of God. The psalmist proclaims the refreshing water and its action in the service of God, making astounding things happen on the earth.

 

St. Paul tells the Corinthians how we are the temple, with a foundation built from the wisdom of the master builder. And the only foundation that can be truly trusted is that of Jesus. In doing so, we become the holy temple of God with a rock-solid foundation rooted in Christ.

 

So why is Jesus so upset in our Gospel? Why such fury? The outer court – the Court of the Gentiles – was the only place non-Jews could pray. Yet it had become a noisy bazaar. Moneychangers charged exorbitant fees to exchange pagan coins for Temple shekels (the only currency accepted for the half-shekel tax). Livestock dealers sold doves at inflated prices to the poor who could afford nothing else for sacrifice. The racket of haggling vendors, bleating goats, and clinking coins drowned out prayer. Gentiles seeking the God of Israel found chaos instead of reverence. Worse, the system enriched the priestly elite while exploiting pilgrims. Jesus saw not mere trade but sacrilege: His Father’s house, meant for all nations to encounter the living God, had been turned into a “den of thieves.” The Greek word for “marketplace” (emporion) implies profiteering, not honest commerce. This was institutional injustice masquerading as piety.

 

Jesus’ anger was no temper tantrum; it was prophetic zeal, the same fire that moved the prophets to smash idols and denounce corruption. Jesus acted to restore the Temple’s purpose: a house of prayer for all peoples (Isaiah 56:7). When He said, “Destroy this temple and in three days I will raise it up,” He revealed Himself as the new and final Temple – His Body, crucified and risen, from which living water flows to cleanse and renew the world.

 

The Lateran Basilica, like every parish church, inherits this mission. Our buildings must never become clubs for insiders or fund-raising machines. The vestibule and side entrance are not lobbies for gossip; these pews are not a stage for self-promotion. Every Mass, every confession, every baptism is a cleansing stream. And we ourselves are temples, “Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit?” (1 Cor 6:19). When greed, resentment, or indifference clutters our hearts, we invite the whip of Christ’s word to drive them out.

 

This feast calls us to three conversions. First, reverence: enter church ready to meet the Lord, not to check our phones or settle scores, not to see who’s here or not here and who’s sitting where, or judge critically the music or the singing or even this homily. Second, justice: ensure our Cathedral welcomes the poor, the stranger, the seeker, which we do really well; there are no fiscal or social barriers to grace. Third, our mission: carry the living water beyond these walls. Visit the sick and the imprisoned, forgive enemies, forgive friends, feed the hungry, smile at everyone we meet. Every act of mercy heals the salty sea, to meet people, not from our perspective, but from where they are. Remember that we are the temple of Christ out there.

 

In a few moments, we will witness Jesus truly present on this altar. Come, let us worship, and go forth to build the Kingdom of God.