My friends, I decided for this Easter message, “to cut to the chase,” so to speak, and just jump into the story of Easter as it is such a good story! – because it includes all the best elements of a really good story: suspense, action, intrigue, and of course, love.

   Let’s look at what we are told—Mary Magdala, Mary the Tower, as we have learned more truly describes her name, goes to the tomb, early in the morning—she is looking for her friend who suffered a grievous death, not even two days ago, before her very eyes.  It was all so confusing that day—no one had been able to anoint his body, as was their custom, a task she intended to do now. A secret friend at the Sanhedrin, Joseph of Arimathea had given Jesus a tomb and Mary made sure she knew where it was.  Because of the Sabbath and the prohibition of any, but necessary work; she couldn’t go to the tomb until after the holyday had passed. 

   She was the first to arrive at the tomb—she couldn’t stay away.  Upon arriving, much to her wonder and shock, she finds that the stone barring the entrance has been rolled away. Her immediate reaction is that Jesus’ body has been taken, and this is what she reports to Peter and John. 

   These two disciples then run to the tomb to confirm that which they can’t yet believe. At this point all three are grieving Jesus’ death and they are looking for a body.  Upon inspecting the tomb and seeing the wrappings on the ground and the cloth covering his face rolled up in a different place, they suspect that something more than a grave robbing has occurred as was Mary’s first impression—if someone wanted to steal his body, they wouldn’t bother to unwrap it first is what exegetes tell us and no doubt the apostles and Mary were thinking this as well.  The Scriptures say, “When they saw the evidence, they believed.” 

   And we might ask, “What is it that they believed?  It is important for us to remember that these first followers had no experience of a resurrection or of what that truly meant, even though Jesus had told them that he would rise after three days. 

   Now at this point, we have to fault those who chose the gospel reading for this Easter Sunday morn as they stop short of the ten verses of the story that flesh it out and make it truly the alleluia story that it is! For those of you who follow the lectionary closely, you will notice that today’s selection ends with verse 9 of the 20^th chapter of John, “Then the disciples went back to their homes.” Really! I found myself thinking – come on guys, you’re going to end the story there?! (In fact, the selection was made by guys!)

   So, I took some “literary license,” as do most, if not all women priests, and included the next 10 verses –these verses tell of Mary Magdala’s poignant, and wonderful encounter with her risen rabbi.  As a point of information regarding the word “rabbi” you will recall that earlier I mentioned that Mary had gone to the tomb looking for her “friend.” I said this because when she finally recognizes Jesus, she calls him “Rabboni” which is a diminutive of the word Rabbi or teacher. It would be like calling him “teach” instead of “teacher.” Clearly their relationship was one of friendship!

   Moving along then, from Mary’s position beside the tomb, where Scripture tells us, “She is weeping,” she discovers two angels when she looks inside the tomb to confirm that Jesus has truly gone—been taken—something! Everyone in this story seems to be on a different page because these creatures in “dazzling robes” ask her why she is weeping.  Now given what happened to Jesus not even two days ago, weeping seems a good reaction to me.  But these “dazzling” creatures had moved to the next page indeed,

and Mary will be there soon as she then notices someone behind her who too is concerned about her weeping, but he goes further—“for whom are you looking?”  Now Mary assumes that he is the gardener and asks him if he knows where Jesus’ body has been taken. So, our imaginations are piqued—why does she not recognize her rabbi, her friend, the one for whom she weeps?

     John Aurelio, in his book, Returnings tells us that what happened to Jesus was not a resuscitation where one would appear the same once oxygen was flowing again—Jesus was resurrected, something none of us understands any more than Jesus’ first followers did, but we can clearly surmise that something wonderful and life-changing had occurred because Mary can no longer recognize, at least physically, her friend.

   Scripture does tell us though that at one point she does recognize him, and it is when Jesus says her name, “Mary.”  No matter what resurrection has done to Jesus physically, she would always know the way he said her name. It is a bit like when we watch an old movie and recognize a character not by their looks, but by their voice. We can also think of our own loved ones and the special ways they name us, the special tone of voice, the special look reserved only for us, and we know that what is at the heart of it is love.

   Love is something that binds people over time and place and will always be, true.  Stories abound of people who have lost a loved one who later were most sure that they felt their presence in a certain situation, a physical manifestation in another human or animal form not of their loved one, or even in a manifestation of nature – rainbow, a sunset.

   We all recall the story of the disciples on the way to Emmaus who found they were walking with “a stranger” who was really Jesus, only they didn’t recognize him. When they arrived at their home, they invited the stranger in for the evening meal, still not recognizing him, but also not wanting to let him go, because “their hearts burned within them” at his words.  They finally knew him in an action they had experienced with him so many times before—”the breaking of the bread.”

   So, friends, Easter calls us each year to remember the wonderful story of how much our God loves us and wants to share our wonderful lives with us, helping us to be all that we can be, loving us no matter what we do with our lives. And love is really the key—it’s what makes this story so good! When we know we are loved; we can do anything, accomplish any feat.  That’s all God really wanted us to know in sending Jesus—that each one of us is loved.

   And because that is such an awesome task, our brother and friend, Jesus, asked us to continue what he could only begin.  That is what being his follower calls us to—to see him in our world in all the ways that he showed himself while with us.  Because he advocated for the least among us; we must see him in the poor, the downtrodden, the immigrants, the forgotten, the lonely young and the lonely old, the women around our world not afforded their full rights as human beings simply because of having been born female. We must see our brother Jesus in anyone or group of individuals not treated justly in our world due to race, creed or sexual expression and what we must see is the link that connects us all as Easter people—the connection between us and all others is the love given so freely by Jesus in his life and death, so that we could, “all be one” finally, finally! And that is why the actions coming out of Washington these days, in the name of us all, are so horrible, beyond party or district, as I told members of both parties in my postcard writing this past week.

   Jesus’ resurrection, what we celebrate today and during the next 50 days in a special way is the realization that we are called to be in our world as he was in his, and one day, to resurrected life where then, all will be fully accepted and loved as God’s own. This past week, a brother-in-law in our family, Patrick Gannon, began his resurrected life, having left this earthly life on April 15^th.  In that light, may the journey of these Easter days remind us that resurrected life awaits us all, as we strive to be our best, walking in Jesus’ footsteps.  Amen? Amen! Alleluia!   

 My friends, we had 11 from our community yesterday come to pray and remember the life, the love, and the death of our brother Jesus. Now, we all await his resurrection from the dead, a clear sign of the afterlife that is planned for each of us. Do we really understand what this means? No, but we walk in faith believing in the goodness of our good God. If you are able, come and be with us on Sunday, April 20, 2025 at 10 A.M. to celebrate, for we are an Easter people, and Alleluia is truly our song! May each of you be blessed in special ways during this holiest of weeks! Peace and much love and gratitude, Pastor Kathy

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Friends, as always, you can see, our liturgical space is very stark today—no candles, no altar coverings, no liturgical drapes.  We are bereft as this day marks the physical death of our brother, Jesus. All of us here, in addition, have those on our hearts from the parish who have died, Mary Paszkiewicz, along with Shannon Hanzel, Bob Sherman, Cathy and Eric Bartleson, Warren Galbus, Giles Schmid, and Michael Maher. When a loved one dies, we all feel, bereft, sad, and lost.  This happened this week for our family with the death of a brother-in-law, Patrick Gannon.  In order then, 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. 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. 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.  The loss of a good friend, only to discover another friend, one we wouldn’t have come to know, except for the loss of the former friend, the loss of a job only to find a new, better one; the loss of a home only to find new opportunities in a new place; 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 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 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.

   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. There was a wonderful picture of Pope Francis this past week 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.”  Personally, and on another level, I thought of our animal friend, Mack who is so patient at groomings, health checks and daily teeth brushings. 

   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.

   Finally, I wanted you to know that I purposely 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. 

   Jesus knew that his actions, his speech—declaring justice for all, speaking against the practices of his Jewish faith 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.

   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, 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!