Friends, as you can see, our liturgical space is very stark today—no candles, altar coverings, or liturgical drapes.  We are bereft as this day marks the physical death of our brother, Jesus. Also, we each have those on our hearts from the parish who have died, Mary Paszkiewicz, Shannon Hanzel, Bob Sherman, Cathy and Eric Bartleson, Warren Galbus, and this day is the 11^th anniversary of his death, Carol shared with me.  Also, we remember Giles Schmid, and Michael Maher.

   When a loved one dies, we can feel sad, and lost, maybe even some relief that their suffering is over.  So that we might consider what it would be like not to have Jesus, along with others in our lives, the Church’s request to sit with this sadness for a time seems most appropriate.

   It is important for us to remember that Jesus’ death was part of his life, just as our deaths one day will be part of ours. You will recall that at the beginning of Lent, we were blessed with ashes and heard, “Remember that you came from the good earth, and will return there one day.”

   And for Jesus—death and resurrection go hand-in-hand.  We know this from our own lives—there are “dyings and risings”—there are losses to grieve, pains to bear, relationships that will end., through death, through ignorance.  But the good news is that in all of this “dying,” certainly things we would not choose, just as Jesus in his humanity didn’t relish the agony in the garden, the trial—all the abuse and the horrible death, his and our loving God would be with him in his human experience—all of it and for us as well!

   In addition to the actual, permanent losses, our human lives include other “dyings and risings”— and some are, heaven-on-earth experiences. We all have them.   And they often flow out of the losses—the dying.  Losing good friends, losing a home and a community that we loved, and then the realization after a loss that somehow, we made it through that awful time and that we hadn’t been alone—our God was with us in friends and family that were near and helped us out. We may have become aware on the other side of the pain that it was only God’s grace that got us through.  And if we are patient and faithful and willing, we find new friends, a more uplifting job, a better, if different home, and a new community. 

    And then, at the end of our lives is the experience of heaven—we don’t know what that will be like, we can only imagine as we recall the words of Scripture, “None of us knows what God has planned for those who have loved God in this life!”

   Good Friday and remembering our brother Jesus’ death also reminds us of those who have completed their earthly journeys from among our families and friends, others not from this community, but of our hearts.  May they rest in peace now as we all look forward one day to that eternal life that Jesus has prepared for us through his life, death, and resurrection.  We pray too for all the suffering around our world, from power, greed, and ignorance, even within our Church from those in power who want to frame our God as Someone who demands our repentance, and forgetting that our God is one of over-the-top mercy and love.  It seems that Jesus continues “to die” within our country and world, every day, because we often react in small ways that exclude and separate rather than following our brother Jesus, who always included and brought people together—found a way.  Our prayer today can be that all who are suffering in any way come to know peace and many blessings soon. I know that each of you pray daily, as do I, for our country, our world, and for servant leaders to come forward – soon, to help us be more whole, more healthy, more concerned about all the people. 

   Looking to the Scriptures today, John’s gospel is always used on Good Friday because it gives us a different focus than the other accounts from Matthew, Mark, and Luke. We  remember from Palm Sunday and Luke’s passion account that his focus was placed not so much on the detail of the suffering, but more on its meaning for each of us as depicted in Paul’s reading to the Philippians— “his state was divine, yet he did not cling to it, but became as each one of us. A few years back, in the last year of his papacy,  Pope Francis was pictured in a poncho and in a wheel chair, that some criticized, but others thought very appropriate in that he “looked like one of us!”

   In John’s account today, we simply heard Jesus say, in regard to his own personal needs, “I am thirsty.” His concern isn’t for himself but for his apostles—that they would be set free. When he does die, he simply, “gives up his spirit.” We very much get the impression that John is trying to give; of Jesus being in control of all that is happening to him. He had the power to avail himself to what this Friday in history, that we have come to call, “good” brought him, and he accepted his fate with no complaint.  As Isaiah said in the first reading, he did not cry out, even though he was badly abused.

   Even with all the suffering Jesus endured, we see only the silence with which he carried himself, so the silence built into today’s service is again, very appropriate.  Isaiah gives the truth to this notion as well— “you were like a lamb led to slaughter and didn’t open your mouth.” 

   John’s account does not include the purely human moments of the Last Supper or the agony in the garden.   John shows us Jesus as one who suffers, yes, but one who is truly the “high priest” spoken of today in the letter to the Hebrews—one who stands with us and loves us in all our weaknesses, continually calling us to be more.  We often pray that our pain might be taken away and that doesn’t often happen, but we can be sure that Jesus is truly walking with us in whatever comes because he said as much before leaving his physical existence behind. 

   The evangelist goes on to tell us that because Jesus freely chooses death, he can just as freely choose life—the new life of the resurrection. This is our hope in Jesus— to one day, do the same. In this springtime of the year, the idea of the Resurrection is one we can get our hearts around—out of the cold and damp ground comes so much life.

   Again, I wanted you to know that I shortened Isaiah’s reading, leaving out all the references of Jesus, “dying for our sins” as these concentrate on a God who apparently “needs” reparation for the sins of humankind.  I believe many within our Church, theologians included, have moved beyond a God who would ask such a price from a son.  This type of God, needing repentance was not the God that Jesus preached about when he spoke of the Prodigal returning to his father’s waiting arms, or the Good Shepherd who left the 99 in search of the lost one.  These actions of Jesus are the very ones that we, as his followers must try to replicate in our lives – not always easy, but necessary. 

   Jesus knew that his actions, his speech—declaring justice for all, speaking against the practices of his Jewish faith that didn’t go deep enough, and the state of Rome would cause him to pay the highest price for his so-called treason—death on a cross, and freely chose that. We need not look for someone to blame —God, the Jews, the Romans.  Jesus chose life to the fullest, living from his heart, and he paid the price for not going along with the status quo, for not remaining silent as so many seem to be doing in our world today. There is much talk today about DEI – diversity, equity and inclusion, and a trend in our country by some, to say that these things are not important.  These modern terms, simply put, are all about Jesus’ call “to love,” when easy, and not so easy. 

   As we live through Holy Week with our brother, Jesus, recounting the steps and recalling his life of love for us—even unto death, let us remember friends, if nothing else, that we are loved. Our God wants only good for us in life and offered his life for us to prove that. Can we really do any less than love this God of ours in return?   And we love God my friends when we love each other, our world, and all created life.  May God bless you all during this the holiest of weeks as we live, love, die, and remember! Amen? Amen!

My friends, today, as I said in the bulletin for this week, brings us to the start of the “holiest” of weeks in our Church Year.  Unlike Christmastime, which serves as the “happiest” time for churchgoers as it somehow allows us to do and say what is unsaid and undone the rest of the year – it calls forth our childlike natures and tendencies. 

   But Holy Week calls us to something else, to perhaps, “adulthood” in our faith—and perhaps this is why many of us shy away from its rigors—it commitments, calling us toward being our best—commitments we said our personal “yeses” to at our confirmations.  Responding to these commitments throughout our lives, is, let’s face it, not always easy—in fact, seldom easy. 

   If we reflect on the Scriptures for today, we see the triumphal entry of Jesus into Jerusalem.  The people shouted, “Blessed is the One who comes…Hosanna to the Son of David[!]” The joy of this day in Jesus’ ministry, does, as a family member said recently, fall apart, at least in human reaction by week’s end, culminating in his physical death on Good Friday.  And if we were to stop there, we would be truly looking at a very sad week. 

   But our faith tells us that death is not the end—for Jesus, or for us—new life follows on Easter in a way that we can’t truly understand through our humanity, but only through our faith.  And because “the cross” is not the end, nor even the reason that brought Jesus into our world, I have begun to question whether the “empty cross” with the “white drapes” signifying that Jesus has risen is the best symbol for Easter, as some religious cards depict.  In other words, “the cross” should not, in my mind, be the outstanding image, but maybe just one of the images. 

   I am one for whom, “hope springs eternal,” as I believe are many of you.  The sadness that is part of this week in the life of our brother Jesus is a forerunner for our lives walking in his footsteps. The drama unfolded during this holiest of weeks, is not just about Jesus’ life, but about ours as well. If his precious story is simply “words on a page” with no connection to our own lives, then we would have missed the significance of these events. Jesus came to show us how to live our lives and when, especially, the hard times come, we are invited to ask him to walk with us and help us to live these moments well.  Modern day stations of the cross are reflective of this idea as they allow us to see that Jesus’ sufferings continue in our day and call us to do what we can to eliminate that suffering. Many people around our city and country stood physically yesterday with others, some were there in spirit to say, what they don’t want for our country and instead, what they do want.

   These past 40 days have found many of you carrying your own personal crosses, through responding to sudden illness and hospitalization for yourselves or a family member, caring for a needy loved one, coming to terms with life-changing events within your families, moves, down-sizing, and even death.  The new life that Easter brings can be ours as it was for Jesus through our faith, as faith is something we can’t always explain, just as is life at times – but faith in something outside ourselves, in the good we see in each other, gives us the hope that life can be better.

   Our faith calls us to keep our eyes on Easter, at the end of sometimes, very long, dark, tunnels. We in our All Are One community have been companions for all who are hurting of late through many of life’s occurrences and that gives us the assurance that others will stand by us in our need.

   The beautiful Philippians’ reading about Jesus today indeed shows us the way—it is not about power, fame, who we know, but about being a servant, to others, yes, but to ourselves as well – it’s about balance.   

   An issue that was lifted up for me this past week in line with the discussion of being a “servant,” was a documentary on the Philadelphia 11,  about women’s priestly ordination within the Episcopal church back in the 1970’s, and being that we have Kay and Tyler here with us today working on a similar documentary on women’s ordination within the Catholic church, the topic of the Philadelphia 11 seemed appropriate.

   I recalled hearing of these women proclaiming their truth about God calling them individually to priesthood, well before I personally heard the same call, but I realize they were forerunners for me and other women to “answer” in like ways. 

   In watching this documentary and hearing the women’s individual stories, I was stunned, but ultimately not surprised at how these Episcopal women were treated, and of how their struggles were the same as what Catholic women, and others seeking priestly ordination in church denominations traditionally ruled over by men experienced. And it should be remembered that these women were already ordained deacons!

   Some of the male priests’ comments to the 1974 ordinations were appalling in their arrogance. The ordinations were done publicly by valid bishops open to ordaining women, unlike the first Catholic women’s ordinations in 2002 that were done more in secret.  One male priest commented that ordained women deacons were always intended to be in second place, as associates to men.  He went on to delineate other “appropriate” roles for women, as wives, mothers, sexual partners. 

   This particular man’s greatest concern was what we would “call” these women, as they couldn’t be called “father.”  And further, he said, Jesus had made it clear, in calling God, “father” that this role was intended only for men!  This is precisely why  I and other women priests and female theologians encourage not reading the Scriptures literally.  Certainly, God is not male, nor female for that matter, but more than likely, a wonderful combination of both, and more. 

   So, my friends, as I said, with Kay and Tyler here today, filming to “tell a story that needs telling,” as Kay has said to me, I made this homily a bit longer to share about the courageous Philadelphia 11.

   Let me conclude today with just a couple of thoughts from today’s readings.  The prophet Isaiah shows us the “way to go” in continuing the work of our brother, Jesus – “God has given us ears to hear and voices to speak.”  No guarantee that it will be easy.  Even Jesus, in the garden prayed in his humanity, “if it is possible, let this cup pass me by.” In all that life brings us friends, especially in the hard times, it is important to remember that Jesus doubted too – so asking him to stand with us is a good choice, as he will understand… Jesus relied on God for strength, and so should we!

   I would invite each of you to sit with the reality of the coming week as we remember – of how much we each is loved by God who sent Jesus to show us the way. Reflecting this week on the second reading from Philippians especially, which we will hear again on Good Friday is a very good place to start.  Reflecting on Jesus’ human journey, reminds us that, as we pray for better times, God is sending us to be the leaders that are needed now!  Amen? Amen!

   My friends, as always, our intent here, each week is to be in line with the Catholic church universal in its choice of readings, even when we may not always agree with the message being put forth, and it then becomes, “a teachable moment,” to address.  With that in mind, I would call attention to the gospel choice from John today in the raising of Lazarus from the dead. 

   Those of you who have attended our Mary Magdala celebrations on the farm the past few years will recognize that the gospel as written and used today is in error.  The raising of Lazarus is correct, but the prophetic words in this version spoken by Martha are really taken “out of Mary’s mouth” and put into Martha’s!  In the past few years new exegesis has been uncovered showing that some “toying” with this text was done to downplay the prophetic words of Mary – the same words spoken by Peter, that indeed, “Jesus is the Christ!” Being that this homily is going in a different direction, I felt it was best to use the text as written, and we will address this other issue at our summer Mary Magdala celebration – I merely wanted you to know that I hadn’t forgotten. 

   Today’s readings, if we are looking for a theme, are about “living in the Spirit,” and of course, that begs the question, what are those things in our human lives that keep us from “living in the Spirit,” or simply put, “being our best?”

   Do we try to keep a balance between law and love in our daily actions?  In other words, are we regularly more faithful to the law to obey, or the law to love?  It comes down to the heart over the head. 

   On the national/international stage, Pope Leo XIV gives us two examples: one positive, one not so positive on living out of our hearts rather than our heads.  In a positive, prophetic tone, Leo has courageously addressed the current administration in Washington around the issues of migration, the war in Iran, and the lack of diplomacy in working with other world leaders.  This takes much strength of character and grace to take on an administration touting many Catholic individuals and challenging them to better than they are doing. 

   The less than positive example of Pope Leo’s ministry in the Church comes from Catholic Renewal International (CCRI), who are challenging the pope about, “gathering the bishops to discuss, ‘in the Spirit,’ without inviting the people as less than “synodal.”  They are basically telling the pontiff, “The world is changing and if the hierarchy continues to turn a deaf ear, this Church will become less and less relevant.”  On the issue of making rulings “on the family,” CCRI states that it is simply wrong to not involve the people and hear their stories.

   Now, my friends, I lift up these two examples of Pope Leo doing what his baptism and role call him to, and where he isn’t doing what he should, because we the people should be able to look to our leaders for, “the way to go.” 

   And you might ask, how do we know that any particular action that we witness another doing, or we consider doing ourselves is about, “what is best,” from the “heart” primarily, as opposed to simply the “head?”  Somewhere along my own journey toward “what is best” –  what is true, what is good, I came upon the statement, “if it is from God, there will be peace.”  Those words have served me well throughout my life.  And this isn’t to say that our decision to act in a certain way will be free from fear – because we may more times than not, have to stand alone in this “good action” – but all in all, there should be peace. 

  At the beginning of this homily I said today’s readings are basically about, “living in the Spirit.”  Ezekiel tells us quite succinctly that [God] “will put [God’s] breath in [us and we] will live.”  Paul, in his letter to the Romans confirms this fact, and I paraphrase, the Spirit of God is with us, making all things new. 

   My friends, each year during Lent, our true task is to remember that our God loved us so much so as to send us our brother Jesus to very simply, “show us the way” – nothing more, nothing less.  Unfortunately, too many within our Church hierarchy and that of other Christian denominations attempt still, to confuse us with messages of, “God sending Jesus to die the ignominious death on the cross, as if to make up for our failings as humans. 

   I believe that at one time in our sacred, and holy history, this reason was enough for most of us, and it enabled us to “beat our breasts” for 40 days with no complaints.  With modern exegesis, we learned that in holding onto such a small “theology” we missed a much more expansive and better one – once again, our God simply loved us – does love us, and Jesus was all about, “giving us that good example” in living – in loving, to follow. 

   Jesus left us his Spirit so that we would never feel alone, or without the strength when we try “to be our best,” and especially, when no one stands with us.  I am presently reading one of Diana Butler Bass’ books, A People’s History of Christianity, and I will conclude today with the words of an early father of the Church, Clement of Alexandria who lived during the late 2^nd and early 3^rd  Centuries:  “ The Logos [or word] of God (the way the 2^nd person of the Trinity was often spoken of) had become [human] so that [we] might learn how a [human] may become God.” 

   Clement and others lifted up this message because they wanted to stress, “human capacities [for good] rather than consigning humanity to an endless cycle of evil that can only be escaped.”  Jesus, in his humanity said the same, and showed us all what we are capable of.

   May we each, in the remaining days of Lent, see our God as one who has and will continue to love us in an over-the-top way.  Amen? Amen!