My friends, we have arrived at the holiest week of our Church Year – why do I say that? If we were to compare it to the Advent and Christmas seasons which we could probably all agree are the happiest, most joy-filled seasons, due to the wishes of peace and goodwill along with the tendency in most to give to others, often in abundance, because our God, for Christians, at least, has given so abundantly in Jesus.

   So then comes Holy Week, and it is “holy,” even “holiest” for us because within one very special set of days, we remember and celebrate all that our brother Jesus has done in his life among us, as a servant, not a king, showing us a path to follow, should we so choose to.  And by the end of this holiest of weeks, we move into the “glorious” as our brother Jesus becomes all that he can be in “the Christ” in rising from the dead, the incompleteness of our human existence to the full splendor of resurrected life. 

   Now, for any of us to say that we fully understand what our faith calls us to this week, would be less than truthful, as it is something that we can only accept through the eyes of faith. More on that later.

   So, let us begin with today’s readings and a brief review of the rest of the week’s events so as to set the stage.  As with all of Scripture, this review and the reliving of the events of Holy Week will be most meaningful to us to the extent that you can put ourselves into the “heart” of the story—attempting to “feel” what the characters in each reading were experiencing—otherwise, they are just, “words on the page” with no relevance to our lives. 

   The prophet Isaiah announces quite clearly who the “messiah” will be—one who is “obedient” to God’s call, one who “will stand” for what is right.

   In Paul’s beautiful letter to the Philippians, our second reading today, that we will hear again on Good Friday, we “learn” how Jesus was indeed the fulfillment of Isaiah’s words— “he did not cling to his divinity, but emptied himself, becoming obedient.” 

    In our recent trip along the Rhine and Moselle rivers, stopping in Worms, pronounced, “Vorms,” we visited Martin Luther’s most significant “hangouts” we might say.  In a courtyard of the place he was tried, for, as the hierarchy stated, “high crimes against the faith,” there stands a statue of this man of faith.  There is a plaque also containing his words in defense of his ideas—basically, “If you can show me in Scripture the words that speak against my actions, then I will abide by those words. If not, then here I stand!” 

   Next to the statue and plaque is a replica Luther’s shoes, big enough for others, “to stand in” should they wish.  I took the opportunity to do so and was amazed with the emotion I felt in “standing with” this brother in the faith, in light of my own action in seeking ordination in a Church that continues to say that my action is “invalid.” It is important to remember that Luther didn’t start out to cause the Reformation—he simply wanted to discuss current practices within the Church that he saw as “falling short” of Jesus’ way and truth. 

   My friends, there is so much going on in our present-day Church and world that calls us to “stand firm” in our living out of the ways Jesus asked us to “be in our world.”  In the beginning I suggested that this week will be most meaningful to us if we can earnestly try and get connected with the real-life actors in this drama.

   Beginning with Jesus, if he were a musician, we would say that this upcoming week was “his opus” –the culmination of all he came to do with and among his human sisters and brothers.

   For those who remember Mr. Holland’s Opus, the best laid plans often don’t turn out as hoped. Glenn Holland, played wonderfully by Richard Dreyfuss, a high school music teacher, a “gig” as he originally called it, to make money “to live” while he wrote his opus, on the side, that would make him rich and famous.  Life played out differently for Mr. Holland, and he only discovered at the end, through the wisdom of a former student, that the “opus” he wrote was the day in and day out influence that he had upon the students that frequented his classes. 

   For our brother Jesus, it was much the same. As he entered triumphantly into Jerusalem amid shouts of joy and celebration, only to have the whole experiment of people being there for each other, each doing their best as he was demonstrating for them, to completely, as it seemed in real time, fall apart by Good Friday, had to be emotionally and spiritually devastating for Jesus and those who followed him – at least for a time. 

   We will see that in his humanity, he wept over the city Jerusalem and the people he had come to love because after three years giving them all that he had to give, they still “didn’t get it!”  They didn’t understand that his coming was about “servanthood” – caring for others, especially the least among us – women, children, the sick and the poor, and incidentally, these “least” did get it!  His life wasn’t about “kingship” – lording it over others, power and control.  And so, he wept in his humanity. 

   That same humanity, that he fully lived, would, as does ours at times, cause him to doubt that he could continue on as we see in his agony in the garden, “please dear God, if possible, take this cup from me,” and as he was dying on the cross, “My God, why have you forsaken me?”

   Jesus, our human brother, struggled between his human and divine natures as do we, to be all that was needed in his time and place. In the end, our human brother, one like us would give lip service to his heart’s desire that he would always do the bidding of his Abba – “not my will, but yours.”  The beauty in Jesus’ words here was not, and I repeat, was not that he gave up his life in reparation for sin, but more so, more so, out of his great love for all humanity – that each, and all would have a chance at justice and goodness within their lifetime.  That was why he had to die, because the powers that be, weren’t having it! 

   I recently read a small volume, entitled Serviceberry by the author of Braiding Sweetgrass, Robin Wall Kimmerer, who speaks beautifully to the issue of “justice and goodness” in our world, something that each person has a right to she says.  The “serviceberry” or Juneberry, as well as other names, is as Kimmerer suggests a berry that gives and gives and gives.  People eat its sweetness and share with others as it grows so abundantly, birds eat it and scatter its seeds about, making more, and so it goes.  

   Kimmerer, as all good story-tellers do, Jesus among them, takes the example of the serviceberry to speak beautifully of what our world and I would add, our Church needs now:  Within our world, we need, “a gift economy” versus a “market economy.”  A gift economy is about making sure that the greatest to the least have what they need to live – that each can share in the goodness of life.  Market economies are about individuals getting more and more whether they need it or not.  Kimmerer minces no words when she says, and I paraphrase, people live in poverty, without enough housing, food and clothing – basic needs, because others have too much.  I am sure that this realization causes her to “weep” over humanity. 

   Within our Church hierarchy too, there is a dearth of leadership – prophets absent, too few who are willing to speak truth to power against those being misused and abused in our country today.  This week as we remember how our brother Jesus loved us to the end, willing to undergo the worst of deaths, let us pray for Church and world leaders who would do the same – risk “crucifixion” if need be, so that the whole truth can be heard. 

   As we walk through this holiest of weeks, let us remember the lessons of Holy Thursday, where in Jesus demonstrated servanthood in the washing of his disciples’ feet.  Let us be grateful for the gift of the Eucharist given as a way that we could have Jesus close, and then take that “closeness” out and share it in our world – ourselves becoming the “bread” that Jesus called “his body” for others. 

      Robert and I attended a “gran-friends” day at our grandson’s school on Friday (meant to include more than just grandparents, for those who didn’t have theirs nearby). It was a wonderful time seeing his classroom and all his activities and playing games. Being that it was at the Catholic school, part of our time included Mass, which was complete with the beautiful and angelic voices of children. 

   I was saddened though to hear the Mass being described in pre-Vatican II terminology, as the “Holy Sacrifice of the Mass.”  This language simply remembers Jesus’ death on the cross, which is not what the Mass is. His dying was something done once, and for all, and even though we know that Jesus continues to die symbolically in the suffering of others, that is not what the Mass is.  The Mass is an invitation to celebrate Jesus’ entire life, death and resurrection, all that he said and did and take those actions upon ourselves doing the same in our lives. The Mass calls each of us to become his “body and blood” in our world.

   On the eve before Jesus died, Holy Thursday, he prayed that “we all would be one,” thus the name of our church, and it was, we could say, his near, dying wish, so one has to wonder why the men ordained in our Church would be so miserly with our God’s love inviting some to receive the Eucharist, which in its best sense, is meant for all, and others to come and “get a blessing.”  I would encourage all ordained men to truly consider just what they are saying, and ask themselves if Jesus would do the same, one who took the “meal” to the hillside because all were not welcome in the synagogue. 

   My friends, much in this next week calls for “eyes of faith” to look at and accept, and our brother Jesus will help us if we ask.  May you all be richly blessed during this holiest of weeks!  Amen? Amen!

My friends, I would like to begin this homily quoting Julia Walsh, a young woman writer for the National Catholic Reporter (NCR) who a few years back, wrote words that I feel lay out quite well what the readings for this 5^th Sunday in Lent are trying to tell us.  Additionally, even though her words are some six years old, they seem to capture the times in which we are presently living.  She is speaking of the sin of racism in the first clip, but we can apply it to other “isms” as well, “sexism” for another.

          Whether I like it or not; I participate in the evil of racism every time I enjoy my white privilege.  When I feel the tinge of excitement over seeing a “run-down” neighborhood flipped into an area  with funky shops and remodeled homes (that’s what gentrification is), I’m ignoring the plight             of the poor.  When I savor easy access to healthy food and transportation without anger for the             lack of attainability my black and brown sisters and brothers have of such basics, I’m failing to            love.  And when I experience nothing but respect and kindness from police officers and assume             it’s everyone’s experience, I’m turning away from the truth.

  Julia Walsh continues in a broader sense:

          There is a major cost for shrinking from naming evil.  Evil creeps through every society and             crawls into the hollows of our hearts, where our deepest fears lie dormant.  Evil crawls into the             places where we hold our dreams and desires, clings to pride and comforts and subtly shifts our             understandings, gets us to justify our destructive behaviors.  If we see how evil lurks, ready to             convince us of lies, then we might be able to name it, confront it in ourselves, each other.  If we             name the evil, then we can have power over it; we can change.

   So, let us leave Julia Walsh’s words for now in order to name the messages of today’s Scriptures for this 5^th Sunday in Lent. Once again, as through many of the readings chosen during Lent for our reflection, we see a God who has shown us, over-the-top love—we recall the beautiful story of “the Prodigal” from last Sunday’s gospel, and this week is no exception.

   Isaiah tells us that the past doesn’t really matter—that according to our God, the Israelites and ourselves, can start again, that our God, “is doing something new” [!] In the desert, our God will, “make a way.”  And we must proclaim too with the psalmist in 126, “God has done great things for us, we are truly glad” [!] Paul, in his letter to the Philippians, would, in my mind, agree with Isaiah’s message. And in John’s gospel selection today, our brother Jesus lets us know once again, the Creator’s wish for each of us –in the story of the couple caught in adultery – we can always start again – and additionally, none of us can judge another, as we are all sinners, even when, as the NCR writer suggested above, we aren’t aware of our sin.  “Let the [one] among you, Jesus says, who is without sin, throw the first stone.” 

   We then see the great compassion for another of our brother Jesus as he addresses the woman whom the men have so shamelessly dragged before him, not with any concern for what she either did or didn’t do, but in an attempt to catch Jesus in a violation of the law.  If he speaks in favor of her against the law that “she must be stoned,” he is in trouble, and if he supports the law, he speaks against his own message of love and is equally in trouble. 

   Jesus cleverly ends their charade by showing the Pharisees and others, that they must first look at their own sins before judging another’s. He then moves in love and compassion toward the woman who in his society must bear the brunt for the two “caught” in adultery. 

   It is worth a brief aside to lift up that the Priests for Equality version of the Scriptures that we use at All Are One, is the only text, among all those out there that mentions that “a couple” was caught in the act of adultery.  This fact, that adultery takes “two” is an obvious one, so why not mention it, we might ask.  This is one of those sins that Julia Walsh referenced in the NCR article—when something is done so long, we don’t even see it anymore. 

   Women as we know had no power or status in Jesus’ time unless they were someone’s daughter or wife—and without that relationship, they had to fend for themselves in the best ways that they could.  Jesus was aware of this injustice where women were concerned, thus he could show the woman in this story some compassion and understanding.  Yet, wanting the best for her – “doing something new, finding a way,” as the prophet Isaiah said our God helps us to do, Jesus “didn’t judge her,” but told her, in future, to try and find, “a better way.” 

   We can perhaps see from this gospel story how Jesus was truly upsetting social life as he found and witnessed it – calling to task laws that were so unjustly weighted against women, children, and the poor.  No wonder the powers-that-be wanted to crucify him! 

   Now, as we bring this homily to a conclusion, I would like to call our attention to the tendency of us 21^st Century humans to look down on the unjust actions of the men in today’s gospel story who have abused the woman in question to satisfy their need to bring Jesus down.

   This gospel calls us to look at our own sins in our present day:

• Our country still lives with the sin of racism—for those, not black, we call that “white privilege,” realizing how it truly is better, as our society is set up, to be white than to be black. And, as we know, this evil sin has been stoked in our present day.
• Our country has yet to elect a woman president to lead us in these United States, and as many know, it isn’t because those who have tried, haven’t been more than qualified.
• Our Catholic church has yet to ordain a woman licitly—we call both of these examples the sin of sexism, and we could go on…, so those “without sin” [can indeed throw stones!]

   In the past couple of years, I have read two books that I would recommend, that speak to the deep-seeded racism prevalent in our society.  One I have mentioned before, Subversive Habits, by Shannon Dee Williams (2022) who lifts up to the light of day the very sad story of black women being discriminated against by white women within religious orders of sisters.   

   The second, a new book this past year, JAMES, by Percival Everett, takes a bit of literary license in retelling Mark Twain’s story of Huckleberry Finn through the eyes of Jim, who lived under slavery, and who accompanied Huck on a trip down the Mississippi River.  The title, JAMES, speaks to the desire, I believe, of people held in slavery wanting to be treated as equals to their white counterparts. 

Everett calls our attention to the fact that whites considered their black “slaves” as having “little emotion,” being that they considered them, “less than human, “and when they were beaten, it didn’t hurt them as much as it would whites. 

   Everett also addresses this concept that, “blacks were considered a step below whites” through the use of a “simple” language that in fact made those “held” in slavery appear “dumb,” while in reality, they very intellectually planned their escapes from slavery. As Julia Walsh spoke of in the NCR article—the untruths we tell ourselves to justify our sins…

   Let us remember friends, that as we read Jesus’ words in Scripture and “watch” the ways he treats others, we are called, and expected, to do the same.  Recently, (WAPS) the Winona Area Public Schools board voted to remove the supports of Title IX from their LGBTQ students due to pressure from the federal government to block financial aid with regard to supporting DEI measures.  We must remind them to do the right thing – that we stand with them to find a “better way,” and along with our brother Jesus, to perhaps do something new!  Amen? Amen!

My friends, we are at the mid-way point in our Lenten journey, and with this Sunday’s readings, we are called in all three selections to, “come back to our loving God, especially if we have “been away,” or to once again, refocus our thoughts and actions on more closely following the path laid out for us by our brother Jesus.

   Our God, who is Creator and Savior/Revealer makes it easy for us by always being one who “chases after us all the days of our lives,” as it is so beautifully phrased in the 23^rd Psalm of the Scripture version, The Message.  Our God is forever giving us a second chance to return, trying once again to be our best, because after all, that is what our brother Jesus calls us to, not only during Lent, but throughout each day of our lives. 

   Let’s look a bit deeper at today’s readings to see how this is actually true.   The 1^st reading from Joshua is simply telling the Israelite people that God no longer “disapproves” of them for their actions—they are free now from their trials in Egypt, and God, who has always “walked with them,” awaiting the day when they would return, and strive again to be who God called them to be.  And even though, their actions called for punishment, our God showed them only mercy. 

   In the 2^nd reading from 2 Corinthians, Paul says that we have been “reconciled” to God through Jesus.  This statement is reflective with the “old theology” we all learned about, “Jesus dying for our sins,” which basically is quite a “black and white,” surface view of what Paul is actually saying.  A better way to look at his words, many would say, is that our God simply wants us, “to strive to be our best,” as that will better serve ourselves and others. 

   And then we have the beautiful story of the Prodigal in Luke’s gospel selection.  This story completes the theme expressed in all three readings today, of a God who will always give us another chance—of one who wants us close, and will always be on the journey towards us even before we have decided to “come home.”

   In my mind, the story of the Prodigal is one of the most beautiful that our brother Jesus has gifted us with.  Let’s take a closer look.  The story we just read says, “the father caught sight of his son and was deeply moved.  The father went out to meet him—hugged and kissed him…”  We must not miss the emotion here as expressed by this father. 

   At the beginning of this story, we read, “this one welcomes sinners and eats with them.”  Unfortunately, this reminds me of the response that our parish received from our local bishop to several invitations we offered him, to meet, perhaps to share a meal, to talk, only to be told, we needed to “recant” before that could happen.  I believe that his actions do not reflect those of our brother Jesus, who Scripture clearly tells us, was willing to meet with anyone.

   This beautiful story of the Prodigal is beautiful and true to our own call to a life of love in many ways.  On the surface of the story, we witness the excessive wastefulness of the son, of the gift of his inheritance, showing disrespect for his father’s love for him.  And we see as well the “prodigal,” wastefulness of the father pouring out, “over-the-top” love for his errant child when he finally comes home, willing to try again. 

   Love, real love can be a tough thing, to continue to give, overtime, especially when it is not reciprocated.  Any of you who have parented children, guided students, or counseled friends know this to be true.  On a purely human level, we can at times look rather judgmentally at friends and relatives who may have hurt us along the way, who we have tried to love, think the best of, and rather cynically in the end say, “you made your bed, now lie in it!” I will change when you do, or something similar.

   We see this reaction today in the older son, who has been faithful, doing all that was asked of him.  He is bewildered, blind-sided we might even say, by his father’s “wasteful” love poured out on his seemingly “worthless” brother. “You certainly can’t mean this,” we can almost hear him say—and he is down-right angry! 

   The story then drags us back to the loving parent who simply can’t respond in any other way…he “pleads” with his faithful son, who he likewise loves dearly, “can’t you see, he was lost, and now is found, we had to celebrate that!” And again, there may be some of you who have been in this situation.

   The conclusion of this story though often leaves many struggling to accept this over-the-top reaction from the father.  But we must go the next step and realize that the mercy shown will call the wayward child to repent and strive again toward becoming their best self—toward showing their gratitude by loving in a likewise fashion. 

   Earlier I stated that this gospel story is true of our own lives as well.  The life of Jesus, our brother constantly calls us over and above our human tendencies to look cynically on life with an “eye for an eye” mentality, and instead, love wastefully.  Our response may not be, “over-the-top,” but in the face of much that just seems, “not right” in our present day, we must continue to be our best—when models of this kind of love and mercy in Church and State don’t seem to be there, we must do our part. If not us, who?

   So, in conclusion my friends, a few final thoughts that may be meaningful this next week of our Lenten journey—which really at day’s end is all about, being better “lovers” of all created life. 

• Do I grow more like Jesus every day? (concentrating on his message should be our main focus).
• Sister Joan Chittister on prayer: “Prayer is meant to bring us to see the world as God [does] – it is meant to expand our vision, not trap us in a world that is only ourselves.
• Our decisions in our day-to-day life should bring us peace; otherwise, they are probably not of God or what may be the best action for us to take, (my personal experience).
• Does my speech reflect a deep caring and respect for myself and others in the ways that God has first loved me?
• Do I live with a sense of justice that is due each person, coupled with an attempt to understand what each walks with in life, rather than the tendency to judge what I see on the surface?
• Do I make an attempt to share my wealth with those less fortunate, through tithing, contributions to the local food shelf, community-sponsored meals, and shelters for the homeless?

   We humans lose sight of our purpose at times—on our trip, we saw many German and French cathedrals—Catholic and Lutheran, each striving to be bigger, on a higher hill, to in effect say, “we are the best!”  We Catholics must never forget that we are also Christians—followers of Jesus of Nazareth, remembering that our God is always, always calling us to be our best and if we grow a bit closer to that image during this Lent, then I would say, we did good.  Finally, I like to think about our God as “always up for a party” to celebrate our efforts! Amen? Amen!