Bishop Terry LaValley's Chrism Mass Homily 3/26/26
Throughout the Mediterranean region and ancient Palestine, oil was the symbol of vital strength. The fruit of the olive tree was really the basic food back then—perhaps even more than daily bread is for us today. At the same time, oil was also medicine—the medicine with which strength, rest, and peace were restored to the body.
Athletes who entered the arena anointed their bodies with oil so that they would be soft, supple, strong, and lively—not dried out.
As you know, a special feature of today’s Chrism Mass is the sign of oil. Christ means “the anointed one.” Oil has taken on a new meaning in the Christian sacraments. The sacraments remind us of the earthly life of Jesus, of the world out of which he steps to meet us.
Our understanding of Christianity is this: the Christian is in a battle with Satan in our world. The anointing in Baptism suggests that the Christian is anointed by the Lord in order to enter the drama of history, prepared to battle the forces of evil.
When we are anointed before Baptism for this contest of life, it means that the one who fought the dramatic battle on the Cross against hatred, evil, and despair stands over our lives as the power that carries us, that gives us life, and that does not allow us to dry out. He stands behind us, catches us when we grow tired, and leads us through life’s arena into his mercy.
And that is why we can be a hope-filled people. We have been anointed. God is with us. He holds us closely.
When consecrated oil is placed on the forehead and hands of a person on a sickbed, it no longer expresses merely the earthly hopes once placed in olive oil in the ancient world. Now it becomes the sign of God’s true medicine.
With this oil comes the entrance of Jesus Christ into the very space of our suffering, our fears, and our needs. That is deeply reassuring. Jesus Christ enters into our personal space. The anointing reminds us that God carries us and gives us peace and assurance that we are safe in God’s hands forever.
This Mass of the holy oils is a feast of the Church and of her unity. Around this beautiful altar of St. Mary’s Cathedral, we celebrate the holy sacrifice of Jesus Christ. This one altar, which expresses our local Church in its unity and entirety, is in turn a reference to Jesus Christ himself, who is simultaneously the living altar and the priest.
We receive from and in this one cathedral the holy oils, which will today be taken out of this sacred space and distributed from here to Mooers Forks, to Rouses Point, to Wells, to Old Forge, to Cape Vincent, to Massena, to Champlain, and all points in between, so that the sacraments celebrated in our parishes throughout this diocese will come from this one center and appear visibly as the fruit of the sacrament of the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.
What happens this morning in the consecration and distribution of the oils fulfills what our psalm verses proclaim:
“Forever I will sing the goodness of the Lord.
I have found David my servant; with my holy oil I have anointed him, that my hand may always be with him, that my arm may make him strong.”
These words suggest the outpouring of the holy oil over the whole body of the Church in the North Country, knowing that our Lord’s hand will always be with us, and his arm will make us strong.
Pope Benedict XVI once wrote that this day is, in a special way, also a feast of priests—those who have made the carrying and distribution of the sacred oils their life’s work. The whole lives of our priests consist in repeatedly going out from the center, from the altar, so that the oil will flow throughout Christ’s Body, the Church, and grow into the strength that comes to us from the Lord.
And there is deep gratitude for the faithfulness of our priests in their ministry of service.
In just a moment, my brother priests will renew their ordination promises. It is as though we enter again into the center from which all our strength and our mission come. We begin again with the Lord, so that once more the life-giving oil might overcome the dryness of everyday routine and bring to life the joy of Christ’s victory over sin and death—the joy of the Gospel proclaimed and lived in our parish families of faith back home.
We do this in the presence of the whole believing Church, for just as priests support the Church, they are supported in their ministry by the faithful.
It is good that there are different charisms and different ways of understanding this ministry of distributing the oils and all that it signifies. But let us not become divided. Division is of Satan.
Let us stand by one another. We live by a common faith, by a common mission—especially in today’s polarizing world. We keep going through all our differences, supporting one another in our common journey of faith.
Praying the breviary, personal holy hours, meditation on the Word—these are not just external or incidental habits that have grown up over time. They are signposts that show us the way to what is decisive: following Jesus Christ together.
Only when we have, in the deepest possible way, this foundation of our common togetherness can we tolerate our differences, because the essential thing is that we are all in Jesus Christ’s boat.
As the Bread of Life is broken and the cup of love outpoured, we are one in Christ our Savior and sent to serve the Lord.
We have all been anointed, even consecrated. May the tender love and reconciling spirit of the Anointed One give us vital strength and bring us the peace for which we all yearn.
Christ-led, Christ-fed, we are hope-filled.
After all, the Spirit of the Lord is upon us because he has anointed us. We are one body, one Church. We have one mission.
Thank you for being about this mission of love.
It is not easy. There is sacrifice, and the splinters of the Cross are real. But there is deep gratitude. The Church gives thanks—for the renewal of promises and for lives faithfully lived.
Throughout our journeys together, may God be praised.
Forever may God be praised.
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