FIFTH SUNDAY OF EASTER

24 APRIL 2016

          We do not often read the Book of Revelation, because it is written in a style which is difficult to understand.  But, Saint John, the author, speaks to us every Sunday during the Easter Season in our second reading.  Today, he applies the Mystery of Christ’s Resurrection to all of creation.  He tells us that God’s creation will be transformed.  Because Christ has recreated and redeemed what had been lost by sin, everything that is good in the present heavens and present earth will remain at the end of time.  But whatever is scarred by sin, represented by the chaos of the waters before creation and the flood at the time of Noah, will be no longer. 

            This vision gives us great hope, especially as we struggle to live the new commandment which Jesus gives us at the Last Supper.  It is not easy to love one another as Jesus has loved us.  It is not easy to be humble and wash the feet of others, as Jesus did at the Last Supper.  Washing the feet of others involves getting involved in acts of service in our community, in our families, and in our parish.  Washing the feet of others can be exhausting, because no one seems to notice.  Washing the feet of others can be discouraging, because we seldom see results.  Nor is it easy to give of our lives totally, as Jesus did when he allowed his executioners to nail his hands and feet to the cross.  Those of you who sacrifice mightily to maintain your bond of marriage when things get difficult know that pain.  Those of you who are parents know the pain of the cross when your outpouring of love goes unappreciated and even rejected.  Any embrace of the cross is tough! 

            When Jesus tells us to love as he has loved us, he is describing a love that transforms warm feelings.  As difficult as this love may be, he is being glorified already, even as he has put on his garments after washing feet and facing the horror and humiliation of execution on the cross.  The same is true of us.  We are already being glorified when we love as he has loved us.  That is why we have used the words from the Book of Revelation for our capital campaign:  “Behold, I make all things new.”  Our sacrifices will not only bring a beautiful and bigger church, as well as better facilities for our educational efforts.  Our sacrifices will be transformed by the power of the resurrection in the new heaven and the new earth at the end of time.

            The Seer of the Book of Revelation uses an interesting image to describe that vision.  He describes a New Jerusalem, coming out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband.  Sixteen years ago, Bishop D’Arcy gave me permission to take a sabbatical.  For three months, I lived in the Arab city of Azaria (Bethany in the Bible), and studied the Scriptures every morning.  Every afternoon, I would walk to the Mount of Olives, go down to the Kedron Valley, and spend time in the ancient city.  It was remarkable.  I could understand why John used the city as an image in his vision.  Layers of history and reminders of faith are everywhere now.  However, in the New Jerusalem, there will be no pickpockets at the Damascus Gate.  In the New Jerusalem, garbage will be collected daily.  In the New Jerusalem, Israeli teenagers will not be carrying guns, and Palestinian kids will not be throwing rocks.

            Boys and girls, you are here today, because your parents have loved you, as Jesus commands at the Last Supper.  They bring you here, because they trust that their love for you will be transformed by the resurrection of Jesus Christ.  When you go to the Baptismal Font, you will renew the promises they made for you.  Then, you will be fed by the Body and Blood of Christ for the first time.  You can trust that you will be strengthened in learning how to love as Jesus has commanded every time you are fed at this Altar.  In celebrating this Eucharist, we are already sharing in the New Jerusalem.  As you grow up, this Sacrament will be crucial to your faith in Jesus’ power to transform our meager efforts into something beautiful and eternal.

FOURTH SUNDAY OF EASTER

17 APRIL 2016

          Jesus speaks on the occasion of the Dedication of the Temple (known as Hanukah today).  This feast celebrated the rededication of the Temple after it had been desecrated by the Greek invaders, who had turned it into a gymnasium.  In celebrating this feast, people remember the martyrs who gave their lives for the flock in contrast to the religious leaders who had been corrupt and had been more interested in taking care of themselves.  This feast celebrates the gathering of God’s people into one flock, after they had been scattered.

            In the passage just before our Gospel today, Jesus uses the imagery of Psalm 23 to reveal himself as the Good Shepherd. Like the Maccabees who had laid down their lives to expel the Greeks, and like those shepherds who laid down to become the gates of the sheepfolds carved into the hills, he will lay down his life for the flock.  He will become the Lamb of God sacrificed for the good of the flock.  In that sacrifice, he knows each of us by name and draws us into such an intimate relationship with him that even death cannot destroy that bond.

            This Gospel passage is the shortest passage read at Mass all year.  In these very brief words, Jesus, the Good Shepherd, explains our response.  All we have to do is to listen to his voice and follow him.  We have just heard his voice in the Word of God.  In the Acts of the Apostles, we are given the example of Paul and Barnabas, who faithfully proclaim that Word, even when they meet rejection and failure.  In the Book of Revelation, we are given a vision of those who enjoy the intimate relationship promised by the Good Shepherd to those who have persevered and remained faithful.  We hear the voice of the Good Shepherd in the teachings of the successors of the Apostles, our bishops in union with the Pope.  We hear the voice of the Good Shepherd when we listen to those people who know us well and keep our best interests in their hearts.  We hear the voice of the Good Shepherd when we listen to a well formed conscience and make decisions in conformity to that conscience.  When we listen carefully to the voice of the Good Shepherd, we also know the way in which we can follow him.

            This morning, we have some very special members of the flock of Jesus Christ.  Our second graders have listened to the voice of the Good Shepherd when they have gathered for Mass.  They have listened to their teachers presenting the teachings of the Good Shepherd developed by the successors of the Apostles over centuries.  They have listened to their parents and know the special love which their parents have for them.  With our guidance, they continue to form their consciences, applying what they learn to the situations of their daily lives.

            Like that great multitude of every nation, race, people and tongue surrounding the throne of the Lamb, they are clothed with the white garments first given to them when they were baptized.  At that time, the Good Shepherd called them by name and incorporated them into himself and the body of his Church.  Today, the Good Shepherd calls them by name to renew their baptismal promises and invites them for the first time to receive his Body and Blood under the form of bread and wine. 

            Boys and girls, your parents carried you to meet the Good Shepherd for the first time when you were baptized.  Now, you walk on your own two legs to renew your promises.  We thank you for your faith in the Good Shepherd’s real presence in the Eucharist.  We thank you for reminding us that we can never take this gift for granted, because it leads us to eternal life.  We promise you to continue to teach you by our words and example how to listen to the voice of the Good Shepherd.  Fed by the Body and Blood of Christ, you will learn to follow the Good Shepherd, knowing that you belong to the flock which he tends.

THIRD SUNDAY OF EASTER

10 APRIL 2016

          Peter may not have recognized the risen Lord standing on the shore of the Sea of Galilee.  But as soon as the beloved disciple points him out, Peter (in his usual impetuousness) dives into the water and swims to the beach.  Peter is conscious of his own failings, and especially of his triple denial of Jesus in the high priest’s courtyard.  But he also remembers the three years he had spent with Jesus before everything fell apart.  In rushing toward the risen Christ, he trusts that the truth of his three years of discipleship will not be cancelled by his three denials.  He trusts in the mercy which he had heard so many times when Jesus was teaching and healing people.

            Peter is not disappointed.  Jesus asks him three times if he loves him, not to rub his face into his denials, but to heal him and establish him in his position of authority.  If we look at the Greek words, we can understand better what Jesus is doing.  When Jesus asks Peter if he loves him, he uses the Greek word agape, which implies a divine, unconditional, totally self-giving love.  Peter responds that he loves him, using the Greek word phileo, which implies a fraternal love between brothers.  Jesus asks again, do you agape me.  Peter responds, yes I phileo you.  Peter is being very honest in his response, admitting that his love does not equal the incredible love of the risen Christ.  So, Jesus uses the word phileo in his third question, and Peter answers that yes, he loves (phileo) him.

            This exchange is important to our Easter faith.  The risen Lord has given his entire life out of love to become the Lamb of God bringing us from the slavery of sin and death to life.  He invites the same response from Peter.  But, Peter knows his limitations and remembers his sins.  He is only capable of a lesser kind of love.  So, Jesus takes Peter where he is and establishes him as the leader of those charged with the mission of catching men and women in the great net of salvation.  He does not say to Peter:  “ok, you really blew it, and I am making someone else the first pope!”  He says instead:  “In your weakness and fear, you denied knowing me.  But I trust through the grace of my mercy that you can be transformed.”

            We can see the results of the risen Lord’s trust in Peter in the first reading from the Acts of the Apostles.  Because of his encounter with the risen Lord and the gift of the Holy Spirit, Peter is fearless in proclaiming the truth.  He speaks the truth to the same Sanhedrin that had caused the death of his Lord and master.  As Jesus says at the end of the Gospel, he will eventually allow others to stretch out his hands and give his entire life for the sake of the Gospel.

            The risen Lord loves each of us as much as he loved Peter.  He knows our weaknesses, just as he knew Peter’s.  He knows that we will deny knowing him out of fear, just as he told Peter at the Last Supper that he would deny knowing him.  The risen Lord invites us to be honest about our weaknesses and our bad choices and to accept his forgiveness, peace, and mercy.  He accepts us where we are, even when we are not capable of the love which he has given us.  He invites us embrace his risen presence and accept the gift of the Holy Spirit.  With these two gifts, we can accomplish amazing things.  We cannot do it on our own, fishing in the dark of night.  If we trust God in the light of dawn, the limits of our love can be transformed.  We can learn to forgive those who have denied or betrayed us.  We can give our lives in humble service.

            The risen Lord fed the disciples with bread and fish in the dawn of that morning on the shore of the Sea of Galilee.  The risen Lord feeds us with his Body and Blood as we gather today and sends us from this Mass to proclaim boldly his presence.  Like Peter, we can dive into the depths of our daily lives, trusting in the Lord’s transforming mercy and transforming power.  With the risen Lord beside us, we can do anything!

SECOND SUNDAY OF EASTER

3 APRIL 2016

            We have no idea why Thomas is not with the rest of the disciples when the risen Lord breaks through those locked doors on the first day of the week.  More than likely, Thomas is wallowing in grief, wounded by his own deep sense of guilt.  When Jesus had announced that he was going to Bethany to raise Lazarus from the dead, Thomas bragged that he would go and die with him.  Instead dying with him, Thomas ran away in fear and went into hiding when Jesus was arrested and executed like a common criminal.  Even though the others insist that Jesus has been raised from the dead in a way that Lazarus had not, Thomas refuses to believe.  Not only does he demand to experience the risen Lord, but he also wants to touch his wounds.  Once Thomas encounters the risen Lord, he works through his doubts, accepts the Lord’s gift of peace, and makes the most profound statement of faith in the Gospel:  “My Lord and my God.”

            Like those first disciples, we have gathered during this Octave of Easter to increase our faith that Jesus Christ has been raised from the dead.  He has been transformed through the power of the resurrection.  He promises that those who die with him will be transformed with him.  But, despite our Easter joy and his promise, we continue to bear our share of wounds.  We are wounded by the scourge of terrorism and violence in our world.  Easter has not taken away the divisions and hatreds in our culture, nor has it erased the tensions and dysfunctional parts of our families.  Even though we continue to bask in Easter joy, we still bear the wounds of habits that we seem unable to change, or physical or emotional scars that do not heal quickly.  We continue to bear the wounds of our own failures and sins.

            Even after encountering the risen Lord on Easter Sunday, the disciples keep the doors locked out of fear on the first day of the second week.  Through the prompting of the Holy Spirit, they will slowly gain the courage to leave that room and share the mercy they have received.  The Acts of the Apostles shows Peter healing the sick through the touch given him by the risen Lord.  In exile on the island of Patmos, Saint John feels the touch of the risen Christ and has the courage to write his vision.  We also need time to feel the touch of the risen Lord, especially when he speaks to us here and feeds us with his Body and Blood.

This Second Sunday of Easter is called “Low Sunday.”  In the ancient Church, the newly baptized laid aside their white garments and took their places in the midst of the assembly for the first time.  And let’s face it.  This Sunday is “low”, because there are not nearly as many people as there were last Sunday.  In recent years, we have called today the Sunday of Divine Mercy.  Those of us who have returned to Mass today gather as a community to reflect on the Lord’s gift of peace.  In giving peace to those frightened and isolated disciples, he does not give peace as the world gives.  His peace does not automatically remove all the wounds which inflict us.  His mercy does not say, “What you did to me was ok!”  His mercy acknowledges the damage done, but provides the courage to change and be transformed by his love.  His mercy graces us with the courage to move beyond the division and pain we have caused, to look forward to sharing in his transformed risen life.  Once in deeper communion with him, we can more easily extend that mercy to those who have harmed us, bringing a peace which the world cannot give.

            The Lord extends his mercy to us, not as isolated individuals, but as a community of believers.  We too can work through our doubts, as Thomas did, because we are not alone.  We have each other.  We experience each other’s touch, especially at the sign of peace at Mass.  We can confidently express our faith in the risen Lord, no matter how many wounds we bear.  We can have life in his name, because he bears those wounds himself.