A New Day in the ArchdioceseRead Time 9 min

For my first Herald of Hope column, I am sharing with you the homily from my Installation as Archbishop of Milwaukee on Jan. 14.

Welcome to each and every one of you. I welcome you to the Archdiocese of Milwaukee; if you are a guest and if you live here, welcome to the cathedral church of this great and historic archdiocese.

It is a rich blessing to be among people who have traveled from so many different places — from England and Brazil, from Ottawa, Ontario, and even Dane, Wisconsin. You know, Dane is quite a hot spot on Saturday nights.

Thank you, everyone, for your presence here this afternoon. I am humbled beyond words.

What a singular privilege it is to be called back home to the land of fish fries, supper clubs and brandy old fashioneds.

Last month, in preparation for these special days, I pondered with those who gathered for my farewell Mass in Vicariate I of the Archdiocese of Chicago. And the driving question was: Who moves to Milwaukee in January?

Well, Archbishop (Jerome E.) Listecki did — 15 years ago — and only 10 days apart. So, why break from tradition, right?

I want to publicly thank Archbishop Listecki for his faithful and dedicated service to this local Church.

Archbishop Listecki, you have accomplished many great deeds in the face of a number of daunting challenges.

We (my family and I) are deeply honored by the presence of Cardinal Christophe Pierre, the Apostolic Nuncio to the United States.

Your Eminence, please convey to Pope Francis my deep gratitude for his trust in me. I promise to do my best to serve faithfully this archdiocese, now in its 181st year.

I am also grateful in particular for the presence of Cardinal Blase Cupich. Thank you, Your Eminence, for being such a gracious mentor.

“No one who sets a hand to the plow and looks to what was left behind is fit for the kingdom of God.”

One of the things a farmer learns early in his agricultural career is the underlying truth couched in this statement of the Lord Jesus.

In order to plow a straight furrow, the worker must keep their sights focused, forward, not looking over one’s shoulder. Attentive to what is to come, conscious of the circumstances taking place around them, alert to what lies ahead.

Of note is that this particular scriptural text is found among the options to be used at the profession of women and men religious. And while that is not the case this afternoon, the reading captures well the commitment I wholeheartedly make to you this day as the 12th Archbishop of Milwaukee.

Together, we will look to the future — continuing to grow what has been passed on to us, knowing that the Lord Jesus Christ is always and everywhere the firm foundation of anything we do that will last.

This is our starting point together.

As the son of a farming family, I learned from an early age certain critical lessons that shape the farmer’s way of being in the world.

Among them, I wish to briefly highlight three:

To begin, life on the farm is intimately connected to the earth — and as a result, to all of creation. In the beginning, God created all things, saw that it was good, and continues to bless the created order.

Among God’s crowning works was the creation of the human person — made in the image and likeness of God. Every human person bears that image and likeness.

From this we must realize that every person possesses an inherent dignity which is to be respected, regardless of how different he or she may be from you and me. No one should be summarily rejected regardless of how flawed the individual may appear or how grave the sinner.

Second, a life lived in relationship with what I have just mentioned is a life shaped by the constant changing of seasons — for the good or bad.

The challenge before each of us is that our lived experience not become static but remain vibrant, ever hopeful, even when confronted by what overwhelms.

It is a walk by faith.

Third, while at times highly independent in nature, the farmer eventually learns that it is more productive, and even necessary, to work together with neighboring farmers. Long days filled with hard work necessitate a spirit of cooperation in laboring as one rather than divided. And in a world ever-increasing with contention and conflict, the works of charity and kindness are desperately needed.

But these are only three among many tasks before us as we move forward from this day.

By way of conclusion, I ask of you one favor — at least one for the moment — and that is for the kindness of your patience — and for the consolation of your prayers. I know that I will need them both.

We all — you and I — are on this walk together after all. We need to grow together in faith, and we need the stability for that walk that can only come from the Risen Lord Jesus. We need him (now more than ever).

So, may our time together — for however long God allows — be molded by the Lord’s own words as found in the Gospel of John:

I am the vine, you are the branches. Whoever remains in me and I in him will bear much fruit, because without me you can do nothing.

Amen