THIRD SUNDAY OF EASTER

26 APRIL 2020

          During his public ministry, Jesus continually invited men and women to make a commitment and become disciples.  As the disciples walked with him on the road to Jerusalem, he taught them and listened carefully to their concerns.  He often questioned them and corrected their misunderstandings, especially when they did not understand his true role as the Messiah.  He would often cite Scripture passages to lead them to a new knowledge of his mission.

            Today, the risen Christ walks with two of those disciples.  But they do not recognize him.  Instead of walking toward Jerusalem, they are running away.  As he had in his public ministry, he listens carefully to their pain and disappointment.  He asks them questions.  In an incredible irony, they tell Jesus what they think about Jesus.  Then he corrects their misunderstandings.  He cites the Scriptures to remind them that Moses and all the authentic prophets had been rejected by their own people, but had been “raised up” by God to new knowledge. 

            With their hearts burning by his words to them on the way, they invite him to stay with them when they reach Emmaus.  Typical of the hospitality found throughout the Gospel of Saint Luke, they want him to stay with them – to make his home with them and dwell with them.  At table, Jesus does what he had done when he fed the multitudes and when he ate with them at the Last Supper.  He takes bread, says the blessing, breaks it, and gives it to them.  With this action, their eyes are opened and he vanishes from their sight.  But because they now see with eyes of faith, he remains present invisibly in the breaking of bread.  Instead of running away, they return to Jerusalem to proclaim that they had encountered the risen Lord in the breaking of bread.

            We have no idea today where the Biblical village of Emmaus was.  Several villages today claim to be the site of ancient Emmaus to attract tourists and pilgrims.  Nor does Saint Luke tell us why the two had chosen to go to Emmaus.  Could they have had friends or relatives there?  Would they be looking for work now that their hopes had been dashed?  Were they planning to spend the night there in an inn to resume their journey the next day?

            We are the Lord’s disciples today.  As we continue to walk with him, Emmaus can teach us something about our experiences of death.  We know the pain of Good Friday, the day when we have lost a child, or a spouse, or a parent, or a very good friend.  We also know the rituals of Holy Saturday, when friends and family gather to wake the dead and console us at the funeral.  After we move away from Holy Saturday, Emmaus is the place where we go when hope dies, when pain is too great, when we cannot imagine a new future any more.

            For some of us, Emmaus may be a cottage by the lake, where we can get away from it all.  Sadly, Emmaus may be a bottle of gin, or a handful of pills, or other unhealthy ways to escape.  Emmaus may be a trip to the mall or a full quart of ice cream behind a locked bedroom door.  During this pandemic, Emmaus may be a retreat into endless Netflix reruns.

            No matter where our Emmaus may be, the risen Lord walks with us.  He listens to our pain and frustration.  He speaks to us in the Word we just heard at this Mass.  He questions us about our priorities.  He corrects our misunderstandings.  He interprets the Scriptures to us in a way that can make our hearts burn.  But most importantly, we recognize him in this Eucharist.  In the company of those two disciples at Emmaus, we too see with eyes of faith “all things visible and invisible,” as we will profess in the Creed.   The risen Christ is present in this Eucharist.  Just as he remained with the two disciples at Emmaus, he is here with us now in the taking, blessing, breaking and giving of the Eucharistic Bread.

SECOND SUNDAY OF EASTER

19 APRIL 2020

          Throughout his public ministry, Jesus consistently told his disciples about his coming passion, death, and resurrection.  However, they consistently failed to process his words.  Perhaps they did not understand.  More likely, they could not imagine that a promised Messiah would be executed like a common criminal.  In Saint John’s account of the Last Supper, Jesus makes one last attempt to prepare them for his passion.  He tells them that their hearts need not be troubled, because they know the way to his Father’s house.  Thomas has the courage to speak for all of them when he raises his hand to say that they do not know the way where he is going.

            They would soon discover what Jesus has been trying to tell them.  They would watch in horror as one of their own would betray him to the authorities.  Except for the beloved disciple, they would run away in fear as Jesus endures mock trials at the hands of the religious leaders and the Roman governor.  Their hopes in a triumphant Messiah would be smashed by his death and burial.  Just as they had not understood his words about suffering and death, neither do they understand his words about being raised from the dead.

            Thomas had separated himself from the group and is not present when the risen Lord breaks through the locked doors of the place where they have been hiding.  He is not only in the deepest grief.  He is also filled with guilt.  When Jesus had announced that he was returning to Bethany to raise Lazarus from the dead, Thomas had sworn that he would go with him and die with him.  If the news were true, then certainly Jesus would be angry at being abandoned in his darkest hour.  Thomas demands proof – he needs to see the wounds on the Lord’s body.           

            A week later, Thomas is with the disciples.  In truth, even they have not fully responded to the mystery of the resurrection.  Even though Jesus had breathed on them and given them the gift of the Holy Spirit, they remain behind locked doors.  They have not acted on his commission to proclaim the good news of his merciful love.  Breaking through the locked doors, the risen Lord greets them again with the words of his mercy:  “Peace be with you.”  Seeing the wounds on the transformed body of Jesus, Thomas makes the most profound profession of faith in the Gospels, combining the Greek words Kyrios (Lord) with Theos (God).

            The Acts of the Apostles reveals what happens when they finally leave their locked room and embrace the commission given to them.  Guided by the Holy Spirit, the earliest Christian community devoted themselves to the teaching of the Apostles.  They lived the communal life as the Body of Christ.  They celebrated the Lord’s real presence in the breaking of bread, Saint Luke’s term for the Eucharist.  They continued to pray in their homes.  In reading the Acts of the Apostles, we know that the early Church did not always live up to these ideals.  But they pursued them vigorously, always striving to be the Body of Christ, even in the midst of their wounds.

            As the Body of Christ today, we too are called to live those ideals, even if we do not do it perfectly. We can easily let our hearts be troubled and give in to worry about the uncertainty of the future.  Even in this time of great loss, God can transform us.  We take courage from the teachings of the Apostles.  We share a communal life and remain mindful of those in need, even in our separation from one another.  We are connected at least by technology to the breaking of bread. We pray in our domestic churches, perhaps like never before.  Thomas came to believe when he put his fingers into the wounds of Christ.  His fingers point the way to deeper faith for us.  Those wounds are permanent in the transformed body of the risen Christ.  They are powerful reminders that resurrection comes from a sacrificial love that is eternal.  Jesus calls us “blessed,” because we believe, even though we have not seen as Thomas had seen.

EASTER SUNDAY     

12APRIL 2020

          Saint John tells us that it is dark when Mary Magdalene arrives at the tomb.   That darkness is much more than the absence of light at night.  Mary is engulfed by the darkness of grief and sadness and confusion at the death of the one who had shown her so much love.  The darkness of her grief continues after she has seen that the stone had been removed from the tomb.  She carries the darkness with her as she runs to Peter and the beloved disciple to report that someone had stolen the body of Jesus. 

After their footrace to the tomb, Peter enters the tomb to see that the burial cloths are carefully set aside, including the cloth that had covered the head of the dead Jesus.  But Peter does not understand, because he is still in the darkness and regret of his denial and abandonment on Thursday night.  However, the beloved disciple had been a faithful witness at the death of Jesus on Good Friday with the Mother of God.  He connects the burial cloths with Lazarus.  He remembers that Lazarus had emerged from his tomb still bound with the burial cloths.  Even though he does not yet understand, he begins to believe.  Jesus is no longer bound by burial cloths, because he has not been resuscitated like Lazarus, but freed permanently from death.  Peter and the beloved disciple will return to the upper room, where they are hiding in the darkness and isolation with the rest of the disciples, afraid of the authorities.  

When we think of Easter, we think of gathering together in our Easter finest at this church.  We gather with families and friends to share the feasting after forty long days of fasting.  We think of joy and hope and Easter eggs hunts with the kids in the back yard.  However, this year, we are much closer to that first Easter Sunday than ever before.  Like those first disciples, we share in a common darkness.  We are hunkered down in isolation, fearing that contact with other people will infect us and make us sick.  We cannot host the feasting meals that are so much a part of our traditions.  We cannot even be fed by the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ, the real presence that brings to each of us the reality of the risen Christ.

Later in the day on that first Easter, the risen Christ will break through the doors of their locked room.  They will not recognize him, because he has been transformed through the power of the resurrection.  But, he will give them peace and mercy for the ways they had abandoned him.  He will breathe on them and give them the Holy Spirit.  Through the power of that Holy Spirit, they will emerge from the darkness of their confinement and proclaim to the entire world the good news of Jesus Christ, the crucified Messiah who has been raised from the dead.

That same risen Christ breaks through the darkness inflicted on us today.  He breathes on us the light of his love and peace.  He will send us out of our confinement when the travel restrictions are lifted, to be fed by his Body and Blood.  Nourished by that surest reality of his risen presence, we too can proclaim to anyone who will listen what those first disciples proclaimed.  Sin and suffering and death are not the end!  Christ has been transformed by the resurrection from the dead, and death has no more power over him. 

As we renew our faith after this homily, we can remember what Saint Thomas Aquinas said about those who believe in the Lord’s resurrection.  Faith in the resurrection helps us to cope better with the deaths of those we loved.  We can face the reality of our own deaths with much less fear.  Belief in the resurrection gives us a greater incentive to perform diligent acts, because diligent acts endure beyond death.  It can also draw us away from evil.  Christ has been raised from the dead!  He has conquered the power of sin and death.  Happy Easter!

CELEBRATION OF THE LORD’S PASSION

10 APRIL 2020

          Pontius Pilate asks the question, “What is truth?”  Pilate really does not want to know the answer.  Instead, he is busy trying to extricate himself from a situation that makes him nervous.  He does not want to alienate himself from Caiaphas, the high priest who demands the sentence of death for Jesus.  Caiaphas has been a reliable supporter of Pilate, who counts on his help to keep the Jewish populace under control.  He is also fearful of the crowds, who have come from all over the empire to celebrate the Passover feast.  Going against their wishes could incite them to riot.  Pilate could care less about the teachings of Jesus of Nazareth.  However, if he is making himself a king, he could be a threat to the power of the emperor.  Looking at the truth hidden in plain sight standing in front of him, Pilate condemns Jesus to die by crucifixion.  The Jewish author Josephus calls crucifixion “the most miserable of all deaths.”  The Roman Senator Cicero describes it as “the cruelest, most terrible punishment.”

            We celebrate the Liturgy of Good Friday not to mourn the death of Jesus, but to express our awe and gratitude for his total gift of self for our salvation.  Crowned with thorns on his head and robed in purple clothing, Jesus is the king who carries his cross, the instrument of suffering and death, choosing to face the horrors that await him.  After they crucify him, the Roman soldiers do not tear his garments, symbolizing the unity between Jesus and his Father that cannot be separated by death.  As king, his throne is a cross.  He is the Lamb of God, whose blood forms a new Covenant of love between God and humanity.  Through the water flowing from his side, he unites us to himself through the waters of Baptism.  Through the blood flowing from his side, he continues his gift of himself to us through the Eucharist.

            At the heart of our Liturgy today is the veneration of the cross.  In normal times, all in the congregation would come forward to venerate the cross with their shoes removed.  In venerating the cross, we bring whatever crosses we are carrying to the saving cross of Jesus Christ.  We affirm our faith that our crosses will not destroy us any more than the cross of Jesus destroyed him.  The action of venerating is profoundly moving.  I have been here long enough to recognize many of the crosses which people carry.  Some bring their cross of addiction or mental illness.  Others bring the cross of grief from the death of a loved one.  Some bring their crosses of terminal cancer or chronic illness.  Some bring their crosses of strained relationships or failed marriages.  Some crosses are very visible.  Others remain hidden from sight.

            On this Good Friday, all of us carry a shared cross:  the pain and isolation and fear in the midst of this pandemic.  Because of the restrictions imposed on us, we are isolated and unable to gather here in our parish church.  So we gather in our homes, in our domestic churches.   As we bring forward the cross that is so important to our parish community, please take a cross or crucifix which is important to your domestic church.  Venerate it to renew your faith that we do not carry our crosses alone.  The Lord carries them with us and triumphs through them.

            We recognize the truth that Pilate dismissed.  Like the Beloved Disciple, we stand at the foot of the cross today.  The Lord has given his mother to us.  As his beloved disciples, we continue to ask her intercession throughout this crisis.  Even though we are separated from one another, we carry our crosses in solidarity with our crucified king and with each other.  The story of our crucified king did not end on Good Friday.  The same is true for us.

PALM SUNDAY OF THE PASSION OF THE LORD

5 APRIL 2020

          In hearing today’s Gospel accounts from Saint Matthew, we are invited to put ourselves into the drama of the last week in the life of Jesus Christ.  We would like to think that we are among the crowd who hail Jesus riding into Jerusalem as Messiah and welcome him with joy.  At times we are.  But, sometimes we are like the disciples who flee in fear from danger and abandon him.  At other times, we are like Peter and deny that we know Jesus in the way we behave.  Or, like Judas, we can outright betray him to embrace whatever constitutes thirty pieces of silver today.  We can be like Pontius Pilate and make bad decisions, only to wash our hands to claim that we are not responsible.  Or, we can be like the religious leaders and condemn those who do not fit into our understanding of what makes a person holy.

            During this Holy Week, we enter into the Lord’s Passion in ways we could never have imagined.  Just as Christ Jesus emptied himself of the privileges of divinity and became obedient even unto death, we are emptying ourselves to share in his passion.  Doctors, nurses, health care workers, and first responders are emptying themselves of regard to their personal health to attend to the needs of those sickened by this pandemic.  All of us have emptied ourselves of our normal ways of life and are in isolation.  We empty ourselves of coming to Church to celebrate the Triduum, which begins on Thursday evening.  We even empty ourselves of the precious Sacramental life of the Church:  the Lord’s real presence in the Eucharist and his mercy in the Sacrament of Reconciliation. 

Instead of gathering in church, we gather in our homes, our domestic churches.  Even in isolation, we walk together in faith this week.  Please take time to read the Sacred Scriptures and participate in the liturgies of the Sacred Paschal Triduum through whatever devices are at your disposal.  In the Sacred Paschal Triduum, we celebrate the Mystery that is at the heart of everything we believe as Catholics – the passion, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ.  We walk with him, not as observers of a one-time historical event, but as participants of a Sacred Mystery that calls us to conversion and a deeper faith.

            Because Jesus emptied himself, God greatly exalted him and bestowed on him the name which is above every name.  The Lord invites us to trust that in emptying ourselves, we may share in his exaltation.