Easter, we all know, from our years of Catholic education and other religious training, is the center piece of our Christian faith.  The resurrection of Jesus is the vessel that holds our hope for life after this life.  What happened on that first Easter morn names as truth Jesus’ claim to be the Messiah of God—because he rose from the dead into new life, we know that as his followers; we will rise one day too!  What that truly means, we don’t know, but we have hope!  But what of today—what does Jesus’ resurrection mean to us today—now? Last week, you will recall that we spent some time considering what needs to be “resurrected” in us for the resurrection to be complete.

It would seem from today’s Scriptures that it is something that we will need to grapple with now and throughout our lives.  One of the themes clearly sketched out in these readings is that of “being on a journey.”  And as in all things where Jesus plays a part; we see that there are several layers of meaning.

The disciples returning from Jerusalem after the Passover, on their way to Emmaus, were on a journey—a physical journey home.  Jesus joins them and we soon discover that it is more than just a journey to their physical, earthly home.  Jesus, seemingly a stranger, is reflecting with them on the story of the past few days.  Just the fact that they did not recognize him says something to us about the fact that Jesus had changed in some way. They speak later about how their “hearts burned” within them as they remembered his words, how he made all the connections to the prophecies of earlier times and opened their eyes to the reality that was in fact fulfilled in Jesus—that he was the Messiah. A good reflection for us this week might be to consider which of Jesus’ words cause our hearts “to burn” –perhaps are the light that shines in our darkness and shows us the way to go.

These disciples soon learned that they were on a life-journey to their God and that they would walk in the footsteps of Jesus, the Christ to get there.  They learned in the breaking of the bread who in fact it was who was speaking to them, interpreting the events of the past few days.  Because they were able to open their hearts to this apparent “stranger” and profess their belief in Jesus as the true Messiah, Jesus was able to open a place in them in order that they could see more.  In the breaking of the bread— a simple, physical, daily action; Jesus was able to break into their lives in a new way because of their faith.

The account from Luke used today doesn’t include the encounter with Mary of Magdala that we find in John’s account, but for the sake of continuity;  I think it is important that we mention it here.  In John’s account, Mary of Magdala, just as the disciples traveling to Emmaus, doesn’t recognize him—at first. You will recall that when Jesus finds a place to break into her life through something that she would remember, she does recognize him.  Jesus says her name, the way only he would say it, “Mary,” and she then knows him.  Just as the disciples traveling to Emmaus recognized Jesus in an event they had seen him do many times, the breaking of the bread; Mary recognizes him as her teacher, when he says her name.

Friends, each of us will find Jesus, our brother, in the same way—in our everyday lives. We will need, of course, to live with our eyes, ears and hearts open, to see, hear and experience the ways that Jesus will attempt to break into our lives through our brothers and sisters in this world, many of whom are in great need of our help and understanding.

John Smith, a local musician and song writer has a beautiful ballad entitled, Love’s Not Through With Me Yet, which I happened to be listening to this past week.  It speaks well to this idea. He tells us to journey through our lives with open eyes and hearts—to realize that “love” doesn’t take two, because love is a gift we give to ourselves.  In other words, whether we love or not doesn’t depend on whether someone returns the love.  Poetically, he continues asking his hearers, “Can you love without needing? And later, “Can you love without bleeding?” If so, then love isn’t through with you yet!

We have talked about this many times here—our main concern in our life following Jesus is to love—to see that God may have sent us this person we consider a “thorn in our side” to teach us something about love that we still need to know.

I don’t know if any of you watch the Father Brown series on PBS? The series is basically about a country priest in an English setting who displays a good deal of morality which guides his ministry.  He is somewhat of a sleuth and every episode usually includes a murder or two and Father Brown is instrumental in discovering, “who dun it!”

He has a busy-body housekeeper, Mrs. McCarthy, whom he lives with in a platonic relationship and she takes care of his physical needs for food, clean clothes and house and in fact runs as much of his life as she can get away with!

On a recent episode, a smelly, unkempt, ill-mannered “bum” is found sleeping in the confessional when Mrs. McCarthy comes to avail herself to the sacrament. She screams, Father appears and the “relationship” begins as Father offers the man a meal and shelter until he can get himself “on his feet,” so to speak.  Mrs. McCarthy asks Father if he knows what he is doing—this man could be dangerous! Father Brown simply responds that we never know, “He could be Jesus in disguise.”

Well, the story winds itself out, interesting things happen and in the end; “the bum” disappears like Jesus in the Emmaus story once he is discovered. The piece I didn’t tell you is that the bum miraculously “saves the day” as the story concludes. And incidentally, this was the first episode I’ve watched that didn’t include a murder!—other better things were afoot!

Today’s readings show us that there will be surprises along our journey in life—the way we interpret God’s movement in our lives may not be the way it necessarily is.  The disciples traveling to Emmaus admitted to “the stranger” who joined them, that they had expectations for Jesus that were unfulfilled—they had hoped that he would redeem Israel.  Jesus did in fact redeem Israel, but in a way that these disciples were only now beginning to understand through Jesus’ interpretation of the Scriptures.  Sometimes the redemption is about changing hearts and minds—growing them, in fact, as with Mrs. McCarthy.

If today’s  gospel teaches us anything, it is that God will not appear as we think, but in ways that perhaps can open us up to that bigger reality, beyond ourselves and our singular needs.  John Smith’s ballad again implores us to consider if we can love without needing—can our love be about the other?

Through Jesus’ life, death and resurrection; we were all given a path to follow.  Our life truly is in God’s hands—guiding, instructing, showing us the way; loving and standing by us in the ups and downs of whatever life may bring us; laughing and crying with us, not taking control of our free will, but loving us enough to give us a human experience, and waiting patiently to one day, take us home.

The readings today show us that we will always have to struggle with the inner meanings of events.  God will come to us in our life situations to bring us to a greater truth.  As the apostles, men and women alike, struggled to understand what Jesus was truly to mean to them; they came to see as Peter proclaims today in his Pentecost speech in Acts and also in the 2^nd reading from 1 Peter, that Jesus’ coming among us, was always in God’s plan.  He is talking to his Jewish neighbors and friends in the 1^st reading, challenging them to see that the Scriptures they had read and believed all their lives were fulfilled in Jesus.

Going forward, we can renew within ourselves once again during this Easter season, the promise made for us at our baptisms, which we reaffirmed at our confirmations, that we as Jesus’ followers will journey with him throughout our lives, knowing and believing that he will show us the right paths to follow, promising anew to walk with eyes and hearts open to see Jesus in all that we meet and together we each will help the other on our journey home, proving as John Smith says, “Love isn’t through with us yet!”

The Easter Season invites us to ask the question, “What needs to be resurrected within me this year?  What is my piece to do that no one else can do? My friends, may we each be blessed as we make this journey together.

In the 1^st reading today from the Acts of the Apostles, we read that “a reverent fear” overtook Jesus’ first followers.  I believe they remembered their brother Jesus in the breaking of the bread and for those who knew him in the flesh, who walked with him in this life; there was the sense and deep belief that they must become his body, so to speak, “be bread”—be sustenance as he was, for their world.  Perhaps that is where the “reverent fear” came from—they realized what they had been entrusted with!  The fact that they were attracting people every day as the Scriptures said tells us with certainty that they had become that “bread” that fed others—with justice, mercy, love, compassion, joy and peace.

We cannot lose sight of this, my friends—the community would only see Jesus if they saw him through them—through the way each lived, through the ways they nourished—were, in fact, bread to each other—through the ways in which they truly followed their brother, Jesus.  Now whether they truly understood this concept of being bread for their world, we don’t know, but they did live as though they understood!  This is our task as well.  Jesus began things—we must continue what he began—this is the only thing that gives us the privilege of calling ourselves his followers—that we do our best to live like him.

We might contrast the wonderful scene depicted in Acts of these first Christians, with our Church communities today. Each year when we read in the Easter Season how they chose to live their lives, we are amazed with the seeming goodness of it all.  The trend in Catholic and Protestant churches alike in present times is not “adding” new members each day, but “losing” them. We might ponder why that is.

I believe another aspect of each of us being “bread” for our world can be found in that first reading from Acts.  We believe Luke to be the author of the Acts of the
Apostles and he tells us that among other things; they broke bread, “in their homes.”  “Breaking the bread” I believe speaks to a greater task that each of us is called to—we must “break ourselves open”—we must “open ourselves up” to others, to our world.  We must listen to others, hear their stories, understand what their lives consist of, and find within that interaction a place to bring Jesus’ love, his light, and his peace.  That is how we become “bread.”

Having just completed Holy Week, it is good I believe to look again at what these mysteries mean to us, what it is we actually believe.  Because depending on what we say we believe, signals what we do next.

We all were taught in our early years the theology that Jesus came to take on the sins (our sins) of the world.  He died to save us and we all grew up loving him for this ultimate gift. But now that we are grown, it is time for us to look at this theology again. Many who have studied this theology, Diarmuid O’Murchu among them have stated, that what is more important for us to focus on is the idea that Jesus LIVED for us—he came, not to die, but to live! If we allow Jesus to be our scapegoat as many so-called followers of Jesus do, then that takes the responsibility off of us to really be followers of this man from Nazareth.  If humanity was so awful that God “needed” Jesus’ brutal death to make up for our transgressions, then what does that say about us the people whom God created—further, what does it say about God?

If we can simply realize and accept that Jesus paid the price for his life as a prophet, then we can get on with our task, in his footsteps, of being prophets too, to our world that is so in need of the message of love, care, mercy and justice that we have been entrusted to bring to it, each and every day.

Again, we must remember that our world will only know Jesus to the extent that we “break open ourselves” and emulate him in our very own lives. Will this always be easy? No, probably not!  Just like Thomas in today’s gospel, we have trouble believing and maybe not so much “believing,” but we experience his fear for “what comes next.”  If Jesus has truly risen and we believe it, then our next move is clear—we must go out and live a life that is indicative of that belief.

We are all alleluia people because we believe in a God who has loved us so much as to send us our brother Jesus who truly showed us the way. We shouldn’t fear the task ahead, that of living out our belief because Jesus told us not to fear, but to have peace.  Easter, which proclaims that Jesus has risen, gives us the strength, all that we need in fact, to be bread for our world.

Joan Chittister in her Monastery Almanac, for Easter week calls our attention to the fact that Easter is not just about Jesus’ resurrection, but it is equally about our own “resurrections,”  as Jesus’ followers.  She says Mary of Magdala rose again, this time as a disciple.  The apostles rose again, this time with courage and purpose.  Finally, she asks us, what needs to be resurrected in each of us to save our world, to make life better for those with whom we share this planet?  I can think of so much in our present day for each of us to be about in this regard.

The resurrection of Jesus was just the beginning friends—each of us are called to do our part—that is what following Jesus is really all about and until we resurrect that part within ourselves that is ours to do, the resurrection will be incomplete.  People will know that Jesus has truly risen when they see the fruits of justice, mercy, kindness, goodness and love within us.  May God bless us all as we strive to be this new, resurrected people!

Friends, for your reflection these days–

We can hardly miss the starkness of this day—our liturgical space cries out with the bareness—no candles, no altar coverings, no liturgical drapes.  We are a bereft people on this day that marks the earthly, physical death of our brother, Jesus.  This is the way that any of us feels when a loved one dies—bereft, sad—somewhat lost, even though we have come to call the Memorial Services we do for deceased loved ones, “Celebrations of Life.”  The Church asks us to hold off on the celebration for a day or two and steep ourselves for a bit on what it is like to be without Jesus in our lives.

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.   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 would be asked of 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 was asked to bear, we see only the silence with which he carried himself, so the silence built into today’s service is 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 more.

John’s purpose it would seem is to let us know that Jesus freely accepted his death and did not struggle against it—he lived his human existence constantly showing us how we must live and accepted the consequences in his time for living a life demanding justice for all.

The evangelist further tells 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 spring-time of year, the idea of resurrection is one we can get our hearts around—out of the cold and damp ground comes so much life.

Holy Week reminds us to be grateful to our God for loving us so much in Jesus.  It calls to mind Paul’s letter to the Philippians that we used on Palm Sunday—he was God, but did not hold onto that, but became human and took upon his shoulders our existence for no other reason, but love.

One can hardly walk through Holy Week and not come out on the other side believing anything but that we are loved by God.  We can all stand before our loving God unafraid because of Jesus—one who came among us and was so morally perfect, coming to be one with us, living by example what each of us is called to.  He only asked that we would follow in his footsteps. Sometimes that can feel daunting, but we must always remember that we will not have to do it alone—Jesus will be with us and knowing that takes my fear away—I hope it does yours as well.

After today—we begin walking toward Easter joy—this is our hope—because of Jesus, we all will have new and everlasting life.

Several from our community, as well as others not from this community, but of our hearts have completed their life journeys.  We pray that they may all rest in peace now as we all look forward one day to that eternal life that Jesus opened up for each of us due to his life, death and resurrection.  And we continue our prayers for all those who are completing their life journeys at this time and for their families. May they and each of us know peace and many blessings today and always.

My friends, as we begin Holy Week, just a few thoughts.  I decided, due to the reading of the Passion today and the wealth of the other Scriptures; we might just reflect a bit on the emotional side of what this day brings us.  We could spend time describing the significance of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem and of how he did everything as the prophets foretold, but when all is said and done, it is really all about love—love first for the God who sent him and then love for those who awaited a Messiah.  He, of course was a different manifestation from what the people thought they needed and wanted, a King to conquer the Romans—instead of a humble man of character and a servant—this was who they needed and only later would they discover, it was who they wanted as well.

Paul, in his beautiful treatise on Jesus to the Philippians says it simply, “His state was divine, yet he did not cling to it…but became as all people are.”  Jesus in his image as slave and servant showed us the way to go—not as this world sees greatness, but as God does.

We saw these images throughout Lent in the form of the Good Shepherd, the Samaritan woman at the well to whom Jesus gave, ‘living water,” the man, born blind to whom Jesus gave much more than physical sight.

This week will zero in on three very significant days—the Triduum—remembering the institution of the Eucharist and the formal institution of the priesthood—ideally intended to be a calling to service.  Within the Holy Thursday service Jesus demonstrates what being a servant means when he washes the feet of his apostles—not about him—but about others.  Pope Francis has been trying to reacquaint the present day “apostles” to this concept and still there are those who don’t get it!

We will meet as a community here on Good Friday to remember the height and length and depth of our God’s love for us.  To be about love—to wear it as a breastplate as Christians means that as Jesus did, love is always the response to what we as humans can come up with by way of injustice, even if we stand alone.  Jesus would not compromise this principle and he knew what the consequences were for that stance.

The Easter Vigil concludes the Triduum as we remember and reflect on our salvation history—a story that delineates God’s over-the-top love for us—always directing the prophets of Old and New to keep us as a people on-track until the message of love could be given to us in perfect form—in the person of Jesus.

This, my friends is a wonderful week that we are beginning—one not to be taken lightly, one not to miss.  Let our prayer for each other be that our God’s over-the-top loving for us be something that we can give back as we respond to our world.

 

 

 

 

My friends, as we continue our Lenten journey toward Easter and new life in Jesus; we are called, as in the first Sunday of Lent, to reflect upon death.  Ironically, this past week, I found myself reflecting upon death for very personal reasons.

Within the course of our trip to China, which, in and of itself, was wonderful on many fronts; I experienced a return of the sciatica pain from last fall along with a new pain that doctors have told me is tendonitis or bursitis, or both.  This new pain has felt like someone socked me really hard in the muscle below my right shoulder blade and it further presents itself as a stinging pain, when it isn’t otherwise simply being very sore. So that, added to the sciatica pain that shows itself, radiating up and down my entire left leg, makes it very hard to concentrate on anything else, when it is, shall we say, “alive and well.”

As a result; I found myself at times, this past week, wondering literally, if I could live with such pain. Of course these aren’t rational thoughts but the irrationality of the pain speaking.  I have talked with some of you who have felt the same in your own times of pain and suffering. And again, this has nothing to do with right or wrong, sin or virtue, faith or unbelief—it is purely the human condition of being in physical pain. Further, it brought me personally, to a new understanding of what those with chronic, debilitating physical pain go through.

Add to that the pain of loneliness that one feels in the dead of night when sleep envelops the household and you agonize about awaking someone to join in your pain when they can’t really do much to take it away. Somewhere within that experience though, you decide to express your emotional vulnerability simply because the pain of doing so is less than that of being alone in the physical pain of the moment.

I found that the image of Jesus in the garden was a meaningful one for me. And too, I have reflected on what this experience was supposed to teach me in 2017 during the holy season of Lent.  And please know that I share these thoughts not to gain your empathy, only to put into perspective these Scriptures that ask us to consider death and what brings life.

The Church asks each of us believers to consider some form of penance during these 40 days of Lent and I have always thought that the most meaningful fast or penance is the one that “breaks open my heart” –in effect, grows me as a person, into a more ardent follower of my brother Jesus.

To reach out then in the dark, in my loneliness and pain to the only other human  present, was for me, to know the love of God at that moment.  He held my hand until the pain subsided.

The gospel story this week is one showing the great humanity of our brother Jesus—love causes the lover to want to take the pain of the beloved—sometimes that is possible, sometimes it is not. But we are always called upon to, do what we can, to “untie and set free” those who are bound by pain, suffering, injustice, whatever it might be.

We are struck, I think, by Jesus’ expression of emotion at the death of his friend—and looking at this, we can never again say that our God is distant from us, or that God doesn’t care. Seeing Jesus’ expression here makes me know with confidence that God will be sad with me when I am sad and will likewise, rejoice with me in my happiness.

As we near the end of our Lenten journey, it might be good to ponder what it is that “breaks our hearts open,” helps us to see more clearly, hear messages that include, rather than divide, untie those who are bound. The Scriptures this week ask us to consider death and life—what brings death and what brings life—may we always choose life. Peace, my friends.