Friends, on this Earth Day, I am going to “cut to the chase” this weekend which brings us to the 3^rd week of Easter and say very simply and succinctly that the message we all should reflect on as we ponder today’s readings is— “It’s all about love!”

   Now that having been said, next; we need to understand that to truly love is a most challenging activity! It calls us— “this loving” to be our very best selves.  It calls us in our present-day world to somehow get past ignorant statements in place of leadership, selfishness when merciful governing is called for, and move toward those who are truly leading in our Congress and State houses, keeping our eyes on their reflections—witnessing that while, difficult, are what is best for our nation and our world. 

   Today’s gospel from Luke lifts up the fact that in the strange, fearful, yet hope-filled times after Jesus’ rising to new life, people, like those disciples on the way to Emmaus didn’t know Jesus until he did “something that was familiar to them.”  Scripture says, “Their eyes were opened” when he “broke the bread.”  This action of, “breaking the bread,” we must remember, is sign and symbol of Jesus’ own “breaking open” of his entire life—for all of creation, showing us how to truly live. 

   In our time we must move beyond the present chaos, of so many things that plague our Church and Nation: misdirection about issues of gender and sexual expression—the consideration of what constitutes “life,” and whose life is most important, time and energy being spent on “Eucharistic Conferences” designed to keep the “Eucharist” in a tiny, little box with no connection to the “real presence” in the world of Jesus, the Christ.  We must ask, “What is it now that truly “breaks our hearts open” and as the disciples on the way to Emmaus, makes those same hearts, “burn within us?”

   “Being our best selves” in these times that calls for nothing less, will help us to understand the truth when we hear it—truth that works for the good of all, as opposed to lies that are simply—self-serving and many times, dangerous.  On the other hand, our hearts “break open and burn within us” when we hear the head* of the United Nations Food Program share the truth that millions of people in this world are on a trajectory toward starvation!  This number tends to double when anything extra is added, like a world virus, climate catastrophe, etc. *This information was from 3 years ago, but the same could be said today about starvation.

   Last week we talked about what perhaps needs to be “resurrected” within each of us to make Jesus’ resurrection complete.  For me, it comes down to, listening with a heart truly broken open to what our God is trying to tell us, now, in 2023.

   What faces our world, like the call of our brother Jesus, is all about rising to the occasion and becoming all that we can be.  Being OK with the fact that more than half of the people in this world live on less than $10,000 a year is not being our best.  Being OK with the fact that millions of people are headed toward starvation if not for the United Nations feeding them weekly is not being our best selves.  Being OK with the fact that poor and dark-skinned people in this world are hardest hit when a pandemic, or any other catastrophe hits,  is not being our best selves and should call us to make some long-term changes .

   And you might say—well, Pastor, I’m not OK with any of this!  And even though it hurts me to say it, because I indict myself as well, if we don’t actively work to change the present disparity between the rich and the poor in our world, we ARE OK with it! 

   All of the readings this Sunday speak to the idea of “being on a journey.”  In the 1^st reading from Luke in Acts; we hear that God “sent” Jesus with “miracles and signs”—which [show us], “the path to life.”  Psalm 16 confirms this notion, “You will show me the path that leads to life.”  Peter, in the 2^nd reading, consuls, that we should, “conduct ourselves reverently during our sojourn in a strange land.”   The gospel, also from Luke speaks of disciples, “on their way to Emmaus.” 

   Today, our world celebrates Earth Day plus 50 years.  We have been on a long journey trying to save our planet these past 50 years—there have been ups and downs on this journey.  The “ups” are reflective of the “reverencing” that Peter speaks of today—the literal, breaking open of our hearts at our earthly home’s beauty, so much so that we have been willing to be about initiatives with the countries of the world to save our planet from global warming.  The “downs” of course, are reflective of a lack of that same “reverencing.”  I have to wonder at our diocesan Church in Winona/Rochester, planning to “reverence” the Eucharist in the “mere bread” without making the vital—connection to our beautiful, and in some ways, dying planet.

  Sometimes my friends, the concerns of our daily lives are all, it seems, that we can handle, and that notion is reflective of my life as it is of yours.  As you know, I am recovering from knee surgery and that is about all that I can handle just now.  I say this, not to garner sympathy, but to let you know that I’m cognizant of the reality of “life” at times. 

   We are all on a unique journey together—all belief systems have a sense of this, and this journey is toward an existence greater than this one; where all people—no matter their gender, race, sexual orientation, financial status, or any other, perceived impediment, will be welcomed.

   I began this homily with the statement that basically, “it is all about love” and the challenge that to truly love, is no small task.  I would like to conclude with some words from a ballad by local, singer-songwriter, John Smith, entitled, “Love’s Not Through With Me Yet!”

   I included mention of this ballad three years ago in a homily and I know that in the past, I have thought of its sentiment in a somewhat negative way, thinking that “love is not through with me yet, because I am not yet doing it right.  But this go-around finds me thinking more positively: John Smith very poetically asks, “Can you love without needing?”—which speaks to the notion that “love” is bigger than just about me.  And again, he asks, “Can you love without bleeding?” which is all about the “reverencing” that we must show toward our earth and its people.  And if you can do these things, than basically, there is hope for our world, because, indeed, “love isn’t through with us yet!”

   After the resurrection, Mary Magdala and the disciples on the way to Emmaus knew Jesus when he did something, “familiar”— “calling her by name,” and “breaking bread” with them.  Let us know and realize, that as Jesus’ followers, what others should recognize in us as, “familiar” is doing the “good” and the “right” in our world and for its people.  Amen? Amen!   

Happy Easter Friends—this is a day of joy and “Alleluia” truly is our song!  There is much mystery around this feast—we accept the resurrection of our brother Jesus on faith for the most part.  In modern times, our time, we might use the term, “magical” to explain what the Scriptures present as truth.  For us who have believed all of our lives, perhaps this isn’t much of a stretch—or perhaps we don’t even question the story that on Good Friday, our brother and friend, Jesus of Nazareth was put to death through the will of the powers-that-were at that time in Church and State, and that on Sunday, he rose to new life.  I believe to truly get the importance of what Easter was for those alive when Jesus was, we have to try and put ourselves in their shoes, so to speak. 

   Jesus’ apostles, when they could get their heads, and better yet, their hearts around what was truly happening, would recall that their brother had told them that indeed, after his death, he would “arise” in three days.  Having never experienced a resurrection, they had nothing to compare it with.  They all witnessed Jesus bringing Lazarus, “back to life,” and when he came out of the tomb, with his burial wrappings still on, and the same were removed, they recognized him. 

   Now, going back to the Scriptures, we read that those who saw Jesus, in his new life, didn’t recognize him until he spoke familiar words, or performed familiar actions, that would show his identity. 

   In John’s gospel today, in the longer version, Mary Magdala—Mary, the Tower of Faith, knew her friend and rabbi only when she heard him say her name, “Mary” in only the way that he would say it.  Another Easter reading tells us of Jesus, walking with others on the way to Emmaus, and of them not recognizing him until he stopped, at their home, and “broke bread with them”—something that he commonly did with his followers. 

   So my friends, it is good for us, who have heard these stories so many times, perhaps not even, really hearing them, to understand that what Mary, Peter, John, and the others witnessed was something entirely new to them—something out of this world! 

   And it is precisely for this reason that John’s account of what he and Peter found upon entering the empty tomb, is so revealing.  Remembering that the dead in Jesus’ time weren’t embalmed, but simply, “washed, and wrapped with spices” and put into a tomb, John’s account of finding the burial wrappings in one place, and the face covering neatly folded in another place, doesn’t speak of a grave robbing, as the Jewish hierarchy feared.  Someone stealing a dead body would hardly unwrap it first for obvious reasons. 

   John is trying to tell us, in so many words, that what they found in the empty tomb, was something out of the ordinary—Jesus had truly risen—whatever that meant to them!  John simply says, “they saw and believed!” Alleluia! 

   The other very important human notion for all of us to understand, more than 2,000+ years later, is how bereft and saddened Jesus’ followers felt.  We all within our community here can understand these truly human feelings as we grieve the loss of Shannon Hanzel.  Just as we can still, hardly believe that she is gone, Jesus’ followers felt the same.  For many, he was the answer to a life-time of prayers.  Many saw him as their “King”—someone who would defend them against their enemies –bring peace to their land. 

   The idea that Jesus hadn’t been vanquished by death was a new concept for them to understand.  So, if Jesus wasn’t someone who would rout out their human enemies, what was his earthly purpose?

   They would go back to this earthly question again and again until they fully understood.  Some of what they came to know is laid out quite well in today’s Scriptures. 

   The first reading from Acts, read by Eryn speaks about a Roman centurion, a Gentile, named Cornelius, whom Peter is speaking with, sharing the message of Jesus, the Christ—a message that Peter comes to know was truly meant for all people, all who would listen.  These first apostles came to know that Jesus’ true purpose in coming to be one-with-us, was not about “power over” others, but more so, “power for” –strength, goodness, justice, for all. 

   The 2^nd reading, Paul’s letter to the people of Corinth, done so well by Elliot, speaks about this “new way” to be in our world, for ourselves and others, in a way that the people would truly understand, and for present-day, “bread makers” as well. 

   Paul uses the idea of “yeast” and how just a little bit in a measure of flour, causes the dough to rise—to grow.  The effect that yeast has, can bring about good, as well as bad, in the case of when the yeast has gone flat. We know throughout Scripture that Jesus always wants us to take the message a bit deeper. If we start with the “dough” of goodness and truth, that is what will grow and multiply.  Likewise, if our “dough” is made up of selfishness, unkindness, injustice, power over others, that is what will grow. I think we see that in our world today.   

   Our brother Jesus came for one purpose—to show us how to live and to love and to grow and share that goodness with others throughout our one, beautiful, human life.  And it would seem that when we all, each one of us learn how to do that, we will have realized that “heaven” is here, now!  Alleluia!

   In closing my friends, just a word about why I used the longer version of the resurrection narrative from John.  If we had stopped at verse 9, instead of going on through verse 18, we would have missed the most beautiful encounter between Jesus and Mary Magdala, the “Tower of Faith” (true meaning of “magdala”).

   In this day and age, within our Church, where the hierarchy seems to feel that women do not “image” Christ, Jesus gives the lie to that notion! Easter calls us all, my friends, “to be our best,” in the footsteps of Jesus! Amen? Amen!  Alleluia!   

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 in our Church Year, because somehow, most, if not all manage to, for a few days—at least, open up their, for whatever reason, closed hearts and do and perhaps say what is within them, somewhere, but goes unsaid and undone for most of the year.  We call this, LOVE, and how we feel is often expressed best, through the eyes of children. 

   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 falls apart, as we know, 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. 

   I am one for whom, “hope springs eternal,” as I believe many of you are as well.  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 too. 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 the hard times especially, come, we are invited to ask Jesus to walk with us and help us to live these moments well. That is why many Christians, like my friend Bede Baldry offer modern-day Stations of the Cross on Good Friday, as happened last year and will be again this year. Modern day stations allow us to see that Jesus’ sufferings continue in our day and call us to do what we can to eliminate that suffering.

   These past 40 days have found many of you carrying your own personal crosses, through responding to sudden illness in yourselves or a family member, caring for a needy loved one, coming to terms with life-changing events within your families, and through death.  The new life that Easter brings can be ours as it was for Jesus through our faith.

   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 as we know they will be there for us when our time comes. 

   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. And so as to not be misunderstood, I am not only speaking about, “caring for others,” but about keeping ourselves in the equation too—balance, in other words.

   Isaiah, in today’s 1^st reading, gives us, “the way to go” as it were and I paraphrase, “God has given us ears to hear, and voices to speak.  He does not promise that we won’t be put down or humiliated, but that God will be with us. 

   Our strength can really be taken from Jesus’ example who prayed to the God that he knew loved him, “if it is possible, let this cup pass me by…”

   So my friends, that tells me that our faith in God and our attempts to do what is right, don’t always have to look perfect.  The passion today tells us that Jesus, “relied on God,” and so should we.

   And because you have already been here for longer than usual, I want to end now with some rather prophetic words from the author of Women Who Run With the Wolves, Clarissa Pinkola Estes, who when speaking of the tough times of COVID 19 in its beginnings said, “We are exactly the leaders that we have been waiting for—we were made for these times!”

   And when you think about it, this was our brother Jesus’ entire message to us throughout his life—he wanted us to know too that we have within us all that is needed to make our world the place God intended for us. Perhaps that is the Easter message! Amen? Amen!

My friends, the previous week of my life always serves as “the good soil” for what I say to you each week, as I try, along with the Spirit, to make the Scriptures of so long ago, still vibrant and meaningful in our lives today. 

   First of all, just a note on today’s gospel selection from John.  Those of you who attended our Mary Magdalen service last summer or read my homily later, know that I presented new exegesis on the “Marys” in the gospel readings.  Cutting to the chase, for our purposes today, I merely want to remind you that centuries ago, there was some “toying” done with this particular reading from John, that we are using today, to take the faithful proclaiming of Mary and put into Martha’s mouth today, the same proclamation by Peter, that, “Jesus is [indeed] the Christ!”  These words, taken from Mary and given to Martha make them less, as was the hierarchy’s intent, than if Mary, who was so much more the prophet, had exclaimed them instead.  I tell you this just to keep in mind as we/you read the gospel –I am going in a different direction with the homily, but wanted you to know that I hadn’t forgotten. (: 

   Our readings this Sunday are all about “dying to the parts of our humanity that get in the way of us being our best selves, in the Spirit of our brother Jesus.”  I will share a couple of examples from this past week that demonstrate this point:

• Darren Walker, the president of the Ford Foundation was high-lighted this past week on the PBS Newshour to talk about his new book, From Generosity to Justice.  This book looks at philanthropy in this country, how it is done, and for whom, and challenges those who do, apparently “generous” things with their wealth to look toward actions that are more about “justice” than generosity. 

   It seems that most of the philanthropic gifts in our country go to large schools and hospitals—probably not the neediest of places.  The givers of these gifts, often very generous, receive tax-free status on the same because they are gifts.  Walker states that there are so many needs in our country and world that could use generous gifts, but most often don’t receive any help, such as homelessness, hunger, etc. 

   I haven’t yet read the book, so can’t really say more except maybe to share a quote from Walker.  He asks those with means to, “interrogate your privilege.”  This reminds me of the out-going head of the World Food Organization, David Beasley, also on the PBS Newshour this past week who spoke about the fact that he has consistently pressed the billionaires in our country to do more, stating that we could solve world hunger if they all had a will to do so! 

• The second example of a group who could do so much better is the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops (USCCB) in their recent statement on Transgender Care of Youth in our country, entitled, “Doctrinal Note on the Moral Limits to Technological Manipulation of the Human Body.”

   Marianne Duddy-Burke, executive director of Dignity, USA, stated that [the bishops] “put inflexible dogma over the needs of the individual.”  The article from the National Catholic Reporter (NCR) speaks at length of the pain and suffering that young people experience within their own bodies that they don’t feel comfortable in, and of the stress of their parents in trying to find appropriate care for their children.

   The article goes on to speak about so much listening that goes on with these young people by their parents and medical and psychological professionals before any drug therapies or surgical measures are even considered.  I would, as well as have other compassionate folk in this world, suggest that the hierarchy of the Catholic church become “listeners” of these stories, and respond more from their hearts than their heads. 

   The leader of Dignity USA’s Young Adult Caucus, Madeline Marlett had this to say.  “The distress caused by gender dysphoria can lead transgender people to self-destructive behaviors, sometimes ending tragically in suicide. For many, [herself included], gender affirming healthcare was the only option for preservation of [her] God-given body.” 

   The phrase, “God-given body” were words that the hierarchy took out of Pope Francis’ writings to use against the transgender community, indicating that one should “accept” their “God-given body” as is.  As is so clearly laid out in the NCR article, it is a matter for many, of choosing life over death. 

   Another opinion article from Franciscan, Daniel Horan, high-lighted in this week’s NCR is entitled, “US Bishops’ Document Against Transgender Care is a Disaster.”  His opening sentence really states the lack of understanding, compassion and care with which these “so-called” leaders penned their statement:

 “Though it should seem obvious, it is worth restating that just because something is new or unfamiliar to you, does not mean that it is necessarily novel or invented, and just because you don’t understand something does not make it wrong or sinful.” 

   With those two examples, let’s turn, my friends to the Scriptures for the light that they can shed today.  The prophet Ezekiel simply says, “I will put my breath in you, and you will live.”  Now if we truly believe that we, each one of us, come from God, and are filled with the Spirit, it would seem that we should be careful about “pontificating” what another’s journey through, “their one wonderful life” should look like; or worse yet, demanding that everyone must live their life in one narrow fashion. 

   Our brother Jesus, in his earthly life listened to, and acted upon the words of the Spirit of his Abba God, the same Spirit that lived and moved through him, and the same Spirit that he gave to his followers, us included when his physical days on earth had ended.  Paul encourages his converts in Rome to “live in the Spirit, not the body, [because the Spirit is what] gives us new life.” 

   And finally, the gospel from John today lays out the best way that we should face our world as Jesus did—with compassion and care, balancing our human instincts and our spiritual sense too, to always do what is best for all. 

   We see Jesus coming to be with friends who have lost a loved one and he responds as a compassionate human would—he weeps with them.  And within that drama of human life and death, he remembers his mission of letting these beloved ones know that there is yet—another life—one that he will show them, as the way and the truth, and as each of us attempts to model his way of compassion and truth, comes his assurance that we don’t ever do it alone.  Amen? Amen!

   My friends, many times as we age and continue to engage with our world, and its people—family, friends, and others we come in contact with, we often can find “gratitude,” in all that life brings—even while some things and people are taken from us.  To the simple question, “How are you doing?”—many responses might come… “Well, I’m upright!” or, “I’m doing good.” 

   I tend to be, for the most part, at least in public, a fairly positive person.  Lately, I have been dealing with “a knee” that isn’t behaving properly. I was out, in public several times this week for needed errands and appointments and to that customary question of, “How are you doing?” my response has been, “I’m OK—a step down from, “I’m good.” 

   Lately, I have been hearing from others who have been experiencing changes in their health or that of a family member, and I must comment on the faith and strength that they are showing in the face of more serious conditions. 

   When speaking of gratitude, I was reminded in my prep for this homily, that three years ago, we experienced our first Sunday of closing due to COVID 19.  I marvel now to think that at that time, I had said, “We will close for 2 weeks to see where we are with “spread” after that.  None of us thought that we would be shut down basically for a whole year and then only gradually, with outdoor Masses, liturgies on Zoom, and messages over email, and then with the precious vaccines, would we, in limited ways, be able to gather once again.  So, we found ourselves being grateful for each change and step-up that could help us come together once again as a community. 

   This weekend finds us at the 4^th week of Lent and the Scriptures continue to remind, in almost a steady stream since Christmas—“to be light in our world.” We can’t just be “status quo” folks, satisfied to do the bare minimum.  Paul, in his letter to the Ephesians, our 2^nd reading today, affirms this challenge—“Live as children of the light.”  So what does that actually mean?  The other two readings for today, from Samuel and from John show us a bit of the way.

   The 1^st reading from Samuel gives us the wonderful story of how God chose David to be the new ruler for the Israelite people.  We see that, in the words of Scripture, “God does not see as people see.”  And additionally, [God looks at] “the heart.” 

   In the gospel of John, we see the furthering of this idea in Jesus’ challenging, to some, yet, comforting to others, words, “While I am in the world, I am the light of the world.”  This was his response after giving physical sight to the blind man.  As he engages the temple authorities, in their” spiritual blindness,” we see, as in all of Jesus’ words, and actions, that there is always a deeper message, one that unites his words of so long ago, to our present time. 

   It is of course, through Jesus’ Spirit that his human words become timeless—that make them as meaningful and challenging for us today, as when they were first spoken. The 1^st reading today from Samuel says as much.  When the youngest of Jesse’s 8 sons finally appears as God’s choice to lead the people, Scripture says, “The Spirit of God came mightily upon David from that day on”[!]

   My friends, we should be encouraged by the above words—we should know and believe that once we too say, “Yes” to our brother Jesus’ call, “to walk in the light,” we will never have to do it alone.

   Again, in John’s gospel, we see that Jesus instructs the blind man whose eyes he had rubbed mud on, to go to the pool of Siloam and wash.  In the Greek, “siloam” means, “sent.”  If we were to take one word or message from this gospel, it should be this one, “sent.”  By the nature of our baptisms and confirmations, as followers too, of the “Chosen One,”  Jesus, our brother, we are sent to make a difference in our world. 

      This past Monday, I had the privilege of speaking via Zoom to a group of Rochester, Minnesota Franciscan Sisters and Cojourners (lay, non-vowed women and men following Franciscan values in their lives) on my call to priesthood.  I was joined by Marianne Niesen, a former Franciscan Sister who likewise followed a call to ordained ministry. 

   As you all know my story, I would like to share here a bit about Marianne as her journey was different from mine.  She followed her call in the early 1990’s well before there was any way to do this within the Catholic church.  I share her journey because I want to lift up all that was asked of her to say, “Yes” to God. 

   She had been a Religious for 18 years, was established within her order of Franciscan Sisters, and had many friends.  Following her call meant leaving all this behind, including in some ways, her Catholic faith and its rituals, as she pursued ordained ministry within the Methodist denomination. 

   If you asked her, I believe she would tell you that she has always remained “Catholic” at heart, but in order to minister in the way that she felt God was calling her, meant that she would have to give up the Catholic “practice” that she knew.  As a result, Marianne continues today in retirement, after more than 25 years leading Methodist congregations, to advocate for denomination-less communities, where, much like our All Are One community, “all are welcome at the table,” because we are more alike that we are different. 

   Marianne, I believe, like me, knew that her call was stronger and more important than the law that said that she couldn’t do what God was asking, so proceeded with faith and trust, knowing that if this was of God, she would not fail.

   So, my friends, for each of us, we can’t use excuses, “that we are not worthy, or capable, or any other excuse.  David, in today’s 1^st reading, is our witness and model, as is my friend, Marianne and others who have listened to their hearts, above their heads. 

   Today’s readings call us to be “grown-ups” in our faith—I believe, Joan Chittister said this.  In the same way that Jesus asked the then, cured, blind man if he believed in the Chosen One, we are being asked that same question today.  The cured man wanted to be sure, so his follow-up question was, “Who is he that I might believe?” Jesus’ response, “It is he who is speaking to you” [!] Upon recognition, the cured man gave his answer, “I believe.” 

   My friends, each time we learn that someone needs help, our brother Jesus is inquiring of us, if we too believe.  We must earnestly try and see Jesus in all who come our way—we may not always be able to physically help, but we must not fail to recognize the needy among us, and perhaps help at another time.  This won’t leave us feeling comfortable, nor should it.  Someone once said, the suffering we experience is sometimes the “very door” where God will enter—to draw us closer. 

   We continue our Lenten journey toward Easter—spring, and new life.  I began this homily reminding us where we were 3 years ago as we learned of a deadly virus among us.  We are most grateful to have come through that time and look forward to continued faith and strength as we become more open to one another again.

Amen? Amen!