I am sure that a good number of us might find ourselves a little bit unsettled by Jesus’ rather strong language in the Gospel this Sunday. Many of us probably would not be expecting Jesus to say that He has come to set the earth on fire or that He was coming to establish division rather than peace, but that is exactly what He says today. On the other hand, we probably simply expect Him to be full of mercy and love and forgiveness, and certainly He is just that. We have become so very accustomed to the stories of His miracles and His many mighty deeds as well as His teachings, His parables, and His proclamation of the Good News, that the language of today’s Gospel may be a bit startling. But, then again, that is perfectly okay if His words do jolt us a bit because that is exactly what they are supposed to do. Today’s Gospel reminds us that Jesus did not come into the world because everything was just fine with the world, but precisely because everything was not. If everything was the way it was supposed to be, there would have been no need for Him to come into the world at all. He came into the world to change it, to make things right and to confront and challenge what was not right with it. Of course, whenever the status quo is challenged, there is discord. Let’s face it, we do not like change. We can tend to lull ourselves into thinking that Jesus never did intend to bring anything like fire or brimstone because He was just an all-around “nice” guy. But that kind of understanding of Jesus would not be correct. Not that there is anything wrong with being nice-being nice can be a nice thing to be. But, if all we are is “nice” in the face of sin and injustice, I don’t think we will do as well as we would like on Judgment Day. Sometimes we have to confront evil; sometimes we have to breakout of our own comfort zones and disturb the comfort of others. And sometimes, Jesus’ words and teachings will be at odds with our own practice and put us in opposition to others, perhaps even our own family members, etc. There is no Beatitude that says “Blessed are the nice.” While we should always approach life with a pleasant disposition, we cannot be “nice” no matter what. Like, Jesus, every now and then, we likely will have to set a fire on the Earth for the sake of the kingdom.
Our second reading for today, which reflects on the tremendous faith of Abraham (who is rightly called our Father in faith) reminds me of the song, “Sometimes by Step, ” which was written and performed by the late Contemporary Christian Artist, Rich Mullins. It is indeed a wonderful song and is on youtube. The lyrics to the chorus and first verse are as follows:
Chorus:
Oh God, You are my God. And I will ever praise You. Oh God, You are my God. And I will ever praise You. I will seek You in the morning. And I will learn to walk in Your ways. And step by step You'll lead me. And I will follow You all of my days.
First Verse:
Sometimes I think of Abraham. How one star he saw had been lit for me. He was a stranger in this land. And I am that, no less than he. And on this road to righteousness, Sometimes the climb can be so steep. I may falter in my steps. But never beyond Your reach. (Chorus)
Imagine for a moment that you are Abraham, and that you are called by God (whom you had never heard of before) to leave everything that was familiar to you behind and to “go to a land that I will show you.” How would you respond? Well, the fact of the matter is that in a very real way, we are all Abraham. We are called to walk step by step with the Lord to a place that He will show us. And how do we do this? By faith- “the realization of what is hoped for and evidence of things not seen.” Abraham realized that God is, even though he could not see Him, and answered His call, even though he did not hear Him. And, no less than he, we are called to do the same.
This might seem a little strange to some of you but the readings for today make me think of Disney’s movie, “The Lion King.” There is a particular scene in the original production that has always been a point of reflection for me ever since I first saw it. I will try to recreate it for you, and hopefully a good number of you will remember it. I’m sure you will remember in the movie when young Simba has to flee the kingdom of his father and run for his life into the jungle. Eventually he meets up with his soon-to-be new friends, Timon and Pumbaa, and at least for a while has a rollicking good time. He was almost able to forget about his father’s death and the terrible evil forces that were controlling his homeland. Almost; but not quite. Right in the middle of his time of “Hakuna Matata,” the messenger from his father’s Kingdom, (Zazu, I believe) finds him and tells him how bad things have become and calls him to come back and fulfill his rightful roll as the Lion King. At this point we have the scene of the nearly full-grown Simba looking into the oasis, and seeing his father’s face as his own reflection. Simba realizes in this solemn moment that as much as he would love to stay and continue to enjoy the “good life” with his fun-loving friends, the only real life for him was to fulfill the mission for which he was born. In fact, the “good life” was not really life at all but only an illusion-like the illusion spoken about by today’s first reading and by Jesus in the Gospel about the folly of spending so much time building up treasure for oneself on earth only to come to life’s end without ever being able to use it. We need to try to make sure that we are not living by such foolish values, especially because it is so easy for us today to get caught up in the illusion today of living the good life. Ironically it is the one who spends himself hoarding earthly treasure who ends up with nothing. By the same token the only way that we can be sure that we can keep all that we have been blessed with on earth through all eternity is to give it away before it’s too late.
Many things about my father (may he rest in peace) used to drive me absolutely crazy. One of those things was the way he prayed and forced us to pray. Every night during May and October he would drag all 11 of us into the living room to pray the rosary, without ever really giving us a reason why. It’s amazing how many of us would be asleep by the time we were finished. And many, many times throughout the year he would force us to come together to pray for things that he thought we needed, but what really got the best of me was the way he would always begin the prayer. He would always start out by saying, “Lord, if it be Your will, we ask that …,”and finish by saying, “…please give us what we need to accomplish your will.” To me that just did not make any sense. Isn’t the whole point of prayer to ask God for what we want and need and not what He wants? Why would we ask Him for His will to be done? Usually I didn’t say anything because I was a little bit afraid of him, but his manner of prayer did cause me to stew in frustration. Then one day during the summer when I was about 12 years old I had enough and I had to say something. He had called us together to pray for our crops (we were farmers). He prayed as follows, “Lord, if it be your will, could you provide us with rain so that our corn might grow and sun so that our freshly cut hay might be dry for baling?” To me just that did not make any sense. He was asking for sun and rain at the same time for adjoining fields. I got my nerve up and said, “Dad that does not make any sense! You asked for it to rain and to be sunny at the very same time!” In response he said something that I will never forget. He said, “But son, that is exactly what we need. We need rain for the corn and sun for the hay. What would you have asked for?” At that moment and to this day, I have no response and have learned a great lesson from his wisdom. And you know what else? When we pray the Our Father, we are basically praying in the same way that my father always prayed. We are praying that God’s will may be done and that we may have what we need to accomplish His will. My father was right again. It’s still enough to drive me crazy…sometimes!
Jesus said to Martha, “Mary has chosen the better part, and it will not be taken from her.” I am sure we can all relate to how Martha must have felt as she saw Mary relaxing with Jesus. We might think, at first glance, that Jesus’ response demonstrated a lack of appreciation for Martha’s legitimate efforts, but it would be good for us to look at this situation from Jesus’ perspective. Martha indeed was presenting him with a wonderful gift in preparing His meal for Him, but Mary was also presenting Him with a wonderful gift. She was listening to Him. Martha could have chosen to sit with Him and listen to Him as well, but she did not, and although Jesus was grateful to her, He was also grateful for the choice that Mary had made. Imagine how Jesus must have felt after speaking to so many people so much of the time. He must have often wondered if anyone ever really listened to Him or if anyone ever truly understood what He was saying. How often does it feel like, although we have to talk to a lot of people, we have truly been listened to? And how do we feel when we have actually had the experience of truly being listened to? I think that we would pretty much all agree that the experience of being listened to is one of the most positive experiences that anyone can ever have. And so, here was Mary, listening to Jesus. Of course, Jesus was not going to deny her of this opportunity. Nor was He going to deny Himself of the gift she was giving to Him. He probably needed to be listened to as much as He needed to have nourishment-and so do we, and so do the people we love, and the people who are around us. Jesus needed someone to listen to Him, He needed Mary to listen to Him, He needs us to listen to Him and we need to listen to Him. That is one of the main lessons of today’s Gospel: to listen to another human being is no small matter; it is a command of Jesus. To listen is to give a rare gift, to listen is to validate, to listen is to show someone that they matter, to listen is to show that we care, to listen is to heal, to listen is to love.
In Christ,
Fr. Joseph L. Maloney
On April 3, 1968, the day before he was assassinated, Martin Luther King Jr. had the following words to say about the parable of the Good Samaritan:
“It is possible that these men (the priest and the Levite) were afraid. You see, the Jericho road is a dangerous road. I remember when Mrs. King and I were first in Jerusalem. We rented a car and drove from Jerusalem down to Jericho. And as soon as we got on that road, I said to my wife, "I can see why Jesus used this as a setting for His parable." It's a winding, meandering road. It's really conducive for ambushing. You start out in Jerusalem, which is about 1200 miles, or rather 1200 feet above sea level. And by the time you get down to Jericho, fifteen or twenty minutes later, you're about 2200 feet below sea level. That's a dangerous road. In the days of Jesus, it came to be known as the "Bloody Pass." And you know, it's possible that the priest and the Levite looked over that man on the ground and wondered if the robbers were still around. Or it's possible that they felt that the man on the ground was merely faking. And he was acting like he had been robbed and hurt, in order to seize them over there, lure them there for quick and easy seizure. And so, the first question that the Levite asked was, "If I stop to help this man, what will happen to me?" But then the Good Samaritan came by. And he reversed the question: "If I do not stop to help this man, what will happen to him?"
Certainly, that is the point that Jesus is trying to make in today’s Gospel. Being “neighbor” is not something that someone else is or is not; it is something that Jesus commands us to do.
The Kingdom of God is at Hand…
Whether We Want it or Not [7-3-22]
There are many interesting points about our scriptural readings this week. For one thing, the Gospel passage from Luke about the sending of the seventy-two disciples is unique to him. Mark and John do not include a similar story about the “sending out” of Jesus’ followers to proclaim the good news and Matthew’s Gospel speaks only about sending out the 12 Apostles. Luke, however, describes both the sending out of the 12, which he does in Chapter 9, and the sending out of the “72” in Chapter 10, which we are reflecting upon today. This is very significant, because one could say that that this means that Luke is trying to say that not only priests (represented by the 12 Apostles) share in the work of evangelization, but that lay people do as well, because “the harvest is great, but the laborers are few.” It also means that Luke is teaching that the good news is not only for the 12 tribes of Israel, again represented by the 12 Apostles, but for everyone-it was believed in Jesus’ that there were 70 countries in the entire world. It is also interesting to understand that many of the instructions that Jesus gives them has to do with the fact that He was indeed sending them out “like lambs among wolves.” In Jesus’ world the traveler’s life was literally in the hands of thieves and robbers and was totally dependent on the hospitality of those that they met. That’s why Jesus told them not to carry with them anything of value but to trust in the kindness of those in the towns they visited. The law of hospitality was taken very seriously because it was literally a matter of survival, not just being polite as we think of it today. To violate this rule was to commit a most grievous sin. Sodom and Gomorrah were destroyed because they failed to show hospitality to Abraham. It was so important to Jesus that He ordered His disciples to publicly “shake off from their feet” the dust of any towns that were inhospitable to them. But even then, they were still to proclaim the good news while testifying against them. As they were shaking the dust off their feet they were still to cry out that “the kingdom of heaven is at hand for you” whether those people wanted it or not.
That is an interesting question, isn’t it? I ask it because the topic of plowing comes up in both the First Reading and the Gospel today, which is certainly very unusual. I, while I never considered myself to be a prolific plowman, have plowed a few fields in my day, so I feel like I can say a little something on the topic. It is an activity which requires focus, yet which can be very relaxing as well. It takes a lot of time and patience. Plowing is not an end in itself, but it must be done before the planting can take place. No field can ever plow itself, nor can plowing ever be undone. A field cannot be “unplowed.” Once one field is plowed there are only two choices. One can either stop plowing altogether, or move on to another field. And by the way, plowing is real work. Jesus shows us in today’s Gospel that He knows something about plowing as well. He actually compares plowing to discipleship. Jesus says that if we are going to follow Him, our lives will change and we can never look back, we can only look forward. As Jesus says, and I know from experience, one never plows in a straight line if he/she keeps looking back over where the plow has just been, and it is so very tempting to do just that. The only way to plow in a straight line is to is to keep one’s eyes focused in a forward direction. Likewise, the only way to be a disciple is to keep our eyes focused on Him. Jesus is not static, He keeps moving. If we keep looking back to former ways of life we will lose sight of Him. Becoming a true follower of Jesus is not a whimsical proposition. It is a serious choice which can only be made after much practical thought and much prayer. And a little background in plowing just might help us in our discernment process.
My guess is that many of us have found ourselves at one time or another in our lives facing very difficult circumstances, obstacles or challenges. Maybe you are in the midst of one of those chapters in your lives right now. Maybe you’ve felt like, or you feel right now that there is no way you can ever see yourself coming through whatever it is you were or are facing. Maybe during those times you have had people say something to you, something that you know was meant to be a word of consolation, but those words did not do much consoling. Maybe you have heard those words from close friends, family members or even from priests or religious, and maybe you’ve even said those words to others yourselves because you did not know what else to say. The words that I am talking about are certainly well intentioned, but they ring hollow, and they probably accomplish more for the one speaking them than they do for the one hearing them. What are those words? “God does not give you anything that you can’t handle.” A lot of us have heard those words, haven’t we? Probably a lot of us have spoken those words as well. I know that I have spoken them, as a priest to people who were in need of consolation but not for many years now. Why? Because my life experience has taught me that they are simply not true, or at least they are not completely accurate. I have learned over and over again that God does indeed present me with challenges, with situations, with problems etc. etc. that I cannot handle by myself. He does so all the time. And why does He do this? Well, I cannot say that I have the absolute answer to this question, but I will offer two of my best thoughts. First, let’s honestly look at things in our lives that we have handled completely by ourselves. How did they turn out? Did they turn out the way we wanted them to? More importantly, did they turn out the way God wanted them to? Secondly, and I think this an even better explanation, God wants to be our strength. He wants to be our strength. He wants us to come to Him always and especially in times of great pain, distress and confusion, because He knows that’s what’s best for us. To make those words true we need to say something like this: God does indeed give us challenges that we cannot handle by ourselves, but we are never by ourselves. He is always there, ready to walk with us side by side, hand in hand to share our pain and burdens with us and even to provide us with Himself as nourishment along the way. That’s what we celebrate today, on this solemnity of Corpus Christi; that Jesus is always there for us, as close to us and essential to us as food and drink. “Take and eat, this is my body; take and drink, this is my blood which will be shed for many.” He does indeed give us challenges that we cannot handle alone, but we are never alone.
The following is largely a paraphrasing of some reflections and comments from Fr. Anthony Kadavil. There are several lessons we can learn from the doctrine of the Holy Trinity. One is that we are called to respect ourselves and others. We are made in the image and likeness of and are called to live lives that are worthy of being in His presences. We are called to lead lives that are pure and holy and to practice justice and charity. Likewise, we are called to encourage and respect others as “Temples of the Holy Spirit,” who are also called to dwell in the presence of God. Another lesson is that God is the source of our strength and courage. Our trust and faith that God is within us is what gives us the courage to face the difficulties and challenges of our lives. It is His presence in us that enables us to face the persecution that we will experience because of our faith in Him. Thirdly, the Trinity is meant to be the model for our Christian families. The love, unity and joy that is so very much present among the Father, Son and Spirit is an example for us to mirror within our own families. Finally, we are called to become more like the Holy Trinity though all of our relationships. Each of us are called to be in a relationship with others and in a relationship with God. We need to pull ourselves away from the individualism to which society calls us and think in terms of “God, others and me” rather than “me, myself and I.” Like God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit, we are called to be builders of love in our families and communities, to reconcile and make peace and to teach the truth. In the end, we can call ourselves Catholic Christians, only insofar as we are in relationship with God and with others.
Well folks, I might as well come right out with and finally say it, and maybe you have already figured it out, but I tend to be a rather skeptical person. I definitely would fall into the “trust but verify” category. It is not my normal way to just accept things, especially those things that seem to defy reason and logic without at least some kind of serious scrutinizing on my part. In my late teens and young adulthood, which is probably at least somewhat typical, I did not know what I believed; I wasn’t even sure if I believed in God. I questioned pretty much every thing. And I truly questioned the Resurrection; I was not impressed by the fact that the stone was rolled away or even that Jesus’ body was not there. I mean, really, if you were Mary Magdalen, would those circumstances have led you to conclude that Jesus was alive? I don’t think so. Than we get into the eyewitness accounts, and while they do give more substance, I probably would still remain a doubting Thomas. I mean, after all, like Thomas thought, if the other apostles had seen the risen Jesus, then why did they stay locked in the Upper room? As a matter of fact, they stayed in that room until guess when? Pentecost would be the answer. I have no doubt something really big and really special happened on that day. And whatever it was that did happen put their hearts on fire and allowed them to change the world and literally bring us to the faith today. I have no other explanation for what happened after Pentecost, except that the apostles were literally transformed on that day. It is pretty clear that they were going nowhere before Pentecost happened. But after Pentecost there was nowhere they didn’t go. Furthermore, it only makes sense that what they proclaimed was the truth and the inspired Word. For me, Pentecost, is what makes it all make sense. Just look at what didn’t happen before and what did happen after. I challenge any one to come up with another explanation. The long and the short of it is that because of Pentecost I believe, and it just might be why you believe as well.
With today’s celebration of the Seventh Sunday of Easter we find ourselves between the time when Jesus has left His mission completely up to His Apostles and before they were fully empowered by the Spirit to accomplish that mission. That will not come until Pentecost. For now it is good for us to reflect on what Jesus says to us today: “Holy Father, I pray not only for my disciples, but also for those who will believe in me through their word, so that they may all be one, as you, Father, are in me and I in you, that they also may be in us, that the world may believe that you sent me. And I have given them the glory you gave me, so that they may be one, as we are one, I in them and you in me, that they may be brought to perfection as one, that the world may know that you sent me, and that you loved them even as you loved me.” It seems to me as if the Lord is saying is that if His teaching and presence to us on this earth are to be of any enduring value they must be put at the service of the Lord’s will to bring all people together in faith in God the Father so that the world may know that the Father has sent the Son, and that the Father loves all of us just as He loves his own Son. Right here, Right now we need to ask ourselves in a very practical way, how the Lord’s gift to us can help us to accomplish the mission that the Lord has put before us. To help us to answer this question we need to look no further than the Words that Jesus will speak to us next week on Pentecost Sunday: “If you love me, you will keep my commandments. And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate to be with you always. “Whoever loves me will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our dwelling with him. Those who do not love me do not keep my words.” Yes, it always comes down to this: loving Jesus means keeping his commandments. Any accomplishment that we achieve through the grace of God is fulfilled when we give to it the purpose of helping us to better keep His commandments and love Him which by definition means to love all people as one in union with the Father and the Son. We do need to ponder this truth, and even be awestruck by it, but at the same time we need to understand one of the lessons of the Ascension. Of course, the apostles were completely dazzled and utterly speechless as they saw Jesus ascend into heaven, but they were soon brought back to earth by the words of the angels who said to them: “Men of Galilee, why are you standing there looking up at the sky?” While we must reflect on the awesomeness of God and His message and His commands and how they relate directly to our accomplishments, we must not fall into the trap of admiring and marveling at Jesus so much that we forget to follow Him that we forget that we must do what He does. As Jesus forgives, we must forgive; as Jesus heals, we must be agents of healing; as He loves, we must love. When we get caught between the Ascension and Pentecost, we cannot allow ourselves to become so awestruck by the glory of God that it prevents us from doing His will. Instead of just “standing there” we need to do His will, in the faith that that the Spirit of Pentecost is right around the corner.
Let’s remember the setting. We are at the last supper. Judas, washed feet and all, is on the way back to hand Him over. The cross looms just behind the foreground. Occupying soldiers are ready to flex their Roman muscle at any time, and the disciples are moments away from seeing their friend and leader arrested and running for dear life. So, what does Jesus speak to them about? Safety? Protection? Evil? Betrayal? Failure? Defeat? No, He speaks to them of peace. His Peace. Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. And He does not speak of a distant peace in a golden age gone by, nor does he speak of a future peace yet to be realized in days to come. Quite the contrary, Jesus speaks in the present tense: He speaks of Peace now. Jesus is doing much more than simply saying good-bye. He is affirming the gift of peace that is made real for the disciples because of His relationship with them. It is a peace that He can give to them now, even in the midst of their unbelievably precarious circumstance. Even in the midst of life’s trials and difficulties, Christ’s peace can be experienced. The challenge, of course, is to pay attention to our relationship with Christ in the midst of lives that are often hurried, harried, and hassled. In such a context, it is critical for us to engage our world with great energy and vigor, while at the same time carving out priority time for reflection and prayer. No relationship can be healthy if we do not invest time in it. Hence, our need to be intentional and proactive about making time for meditation and prayer in order to cultivate an inner stillness in the midst of busy living. In so doing, we become more able to sense how Christ is present in the midst of the world’s need, and thereby become more able to receive the peace of Christ, even in the presence of great turmoil. Also, we need to understand that His understanding of peace is radically different from ours. What we consider peace and what God considers peace are two different things. For us, peace means not to have conflict. But Christ calls us into conflict with
the world. Still, He gives us peace. A different peace, a peace within ourselves, a peace that only comes through union with Him. We are not to be troubled. We are not to be afraid. Rather we are called to embrace the Lord and His Way. Then the Father and Son will be with us and make their dwelling with us. But we are afraid. We are afraid that if we abandon our pre-conceived notions of happiness we will be left with nothing. So, we work frantically in order to obtain happiness. But happiness cannot be bought obtained or acquired. It is a huge step for us to trust that only radical union with and surrender to God can bring us true happiness and true peace. An integral part of the struggle of our lives is to come to terms with and live in conformity with the truth that it is only in unity with God and His will that real happiness and peace can be ours. Once we take that step; once we realize that truth, the peace that Jesus gives can truly be ours no matter what turmoil surrounds us.
During this Holy Week and Easter Season, I have often said that the key message of the Easter Season is that “love lives.” Of course, I am referring to the fact that Jesus, who is the perfect personification of the love of God the Father, rose from the dead-on Easter Sunday and lives eternally. But Jesus is not only the embodiment of love. He is the embodiment of love in action. Jesus is love in action. He is perpetually acting in a loving way. He loves everyone exactly as they are, whether, it is the woman caught in adultery, the rich young man, Nicodemus, the man born blind, the ten lepers, etc. He accepts everyone, He accepts, us exactly as He finds us. But He does not stop there; love does not stop there. He loves us as we are but then He calls us forth just as He called Lazarus forth from the tomb. He forgave the adulterous woman but then commanded her to sin no more. He looked at the rich young man with love but then challenged him to give his wealth to the poor. Love is accepting; but because love is love it is not satisfied with leaving us stagnant. Jesus loves us where we are and because He does He calls us, He challenges us to change, not to remain the same. Jesus calls to “Remain in His love,” and we cannot do this if we remain the same, we have to move, we have to grow and change if we are going to follow Him. That is what the image of the vine and the branches is all about. He is the vine, we are the branches. Our challenge is to remain with Him, to stay connected with Him so that we might bear much fruit. This means that we have to change, that we have to be pruned so that we might become more like Him. If we do not change and grow with Him we will wither away. Love lives. Love accepts. Love challenges.
that Peter answered, Jesus responded by saying either “Feed my sheep,” or “Tend my lambs,” and finally by saying. “Follow me.” He was calling Peter to follow Him out of a deep profound love and to lead His people in the same way that Jesus had done while He was on the earth. This call of Jesus to Peter very nicely sets the stage for us this week, on this Good Shepherd Sunday, to reflect upon the image of Jesus as the Good Shepherd that Jesus gives us as the metaphor of the relationship that exists between Him and us. In Jesus’ time, sheep were the people’s main source of meat, milk and cheese. They provided wool for clothing and were used for sacrifice in their liturgy. The relationship of a shepherd to his sheep, resembles that of a mother to her several small children. Just as toddlers depend on their mother’s care, the sheep depend on the care of their shepherd, and the shepherd, who usually, had dozens of sheep, is kept busy all hours of every day.
Each night, a number of shepherds would come together with their sheep and put them in a common pen. As they slept one shepherd would stay awake to guard the sheep. In the morning, each shepherd would call out for his own sheep to follow him to pasture. The sheep knew the voice of their own shepherd and would follow only his voice when they were called. They would ignore the calls of the other shepherds. Remember, Jesus says, “My sheep hear my voice; I know them and they follow me. We may not like to admit this, but we are like sheep. We need God’s constant care at all times and not just when we are aware of our great need for Him. Meanwhile, we live in a society in which it seems like everyone is trying to get our attention. We are constantly bombarded with commercials on radio, social media, TV etc. as well with all kinds of signs, posters and billboards all over highways, streets and buildings trying to catch our eyes and ears. Sometimes, we have a tendency to simply follow the latest message we’ve heard, or, because we hear so many, we might just follow the crowd. But, if we want to follow Jesus, we have to be able to hear and to recognize His voice, from among the many others. We have to make a conscious effort to shut out all kinds of noise so that we can listen to Him. If we don’t, we can easily lose touch with Him. We need to take time to be quiet, to be still, and to pray, so that we can stay in touch with our Good Shepherd. Our Lord does not want to lose any of us. He wants us to be with Him forever. He leads us through the Mass. He speaks to us in the Scriptures and feeds us with His own body and blood. Sheep may not be the most intelligent of creatures, but they are smart enough to know that they need their shepherd and that they need to recognize his voice. May we also be intelligent enough to know that we need Jesus and smart enough to recognize His voice so that He might lead us to the eternal pasture of Heaven.
I remember as a young boy I could not wait for the day when my father would let me finally take the lawn tractor all by myself and mow the lawn. I’ll never forget the first time, during the spring of the year that he finally let me cut the grass on my own. I was so excited and so happy with myself. But then just a few days later, as you might say, a real growing up moment took place. My dad saw me and said, “Boy, get that tractor out; that lawn ain’t gonna cut itself!” Well that’s when it really hit me. Just like that, something I had wanted to do for so long, suddenly became something I had to do. And not only did I have to cut my own lawn, I had to cut my grandmother’s lawn, which was right next door, as well. I quickly learned that I better had cut my grandmother’s lawn when I was supposed to do so, or else there would be consequences. Unpleasant consequences! Eventually, I came to realize that I should mow her lawn not just to avoid punishment, but because it was the right and just thing to do. Further down the road, I think I even matured beyond that. I think I can say that eventually I cut her lawn, not to avoid getting into trouble or even because it was justifiably and logically the right thing to do. I believe I came to the point where I could honestly say that I cut my grandmother’s lawn because I loved my grandmother. I tell this story because it reminds me of a lesson which I believe comes from the Gospel story we just heard.
One (of the many lessons) that comes from this story is that Jesus needs Peter to do His will—so that His Kingdom might be built up on earth. But He doesn’t want Peter to “feed His sheep” just because he fears the consequences of not doing so (Do you love me?). Nor does He want Peter to ‘feed His Sheep” even because he has realized that is the right thing to do (Do you love me?). Jesus wants Peter to follow Him because he (Peter) loved Jesus-just like I came finally to realize that the reason to mow my grandmother’s lawn was that I loved her. And there it is folks: true discipleship is and always will be a matter of the heart.
There is a story told of a third-grade teacher who worked very hard with her students to put on a Passion play for three consecutive nights. She had tried so hard to include every one and to make sure that every part would be covered. She even planned to have someone play the part of the stone that covered Jesus’ tomb. But this did present her with a bit of a problem. None of her students wanted to play that part, so she ended up having a different student assigned to that role each night. It seemed as though everything was in order, at least relatively speaking, just hours before the first night of the play, the teacher learned that the little character who was supposed to play the stone that night was sick and could not participate at all. Now she was in a spot. Only after much coaxing, she was eventually able to convince another one of her students to play the part but only with the promise that this first night was the only night that he would have to do it. All things considered, the first night went off very well. Unbelievably, on the second night, the teacher ran into the same problem. The next student assigned to play the part of the stone was sick and not able to participate. Although she did not want to do this, after looking over her very limited options, she pleaded with the boy who had substituted the night before to play that part one more time. He agreed, but only under the condition that no matter what, he would not have to play that part again on the last night. All things considered the play went off very well once again. Now it was the third night and everything was going well. And this time nobody was sick! However, as the teacher was happily about to tell her two-time substitute that he could finally play his original role, he came to her with a surprising request. He asked if he could play the part of the stone again! She was shocked and asked why? He told her that it was the best part in the whole play. “What do you mean?” she asked. He said, “When I play the part of the stone, all I have to do is let myself be moved, and everyone knows that Jesus is alive.” The play went off very well once again, but much more importantly the teacher and the little boy had learned a lesson that they would never forget.
Every Easter, we celebrate the resurrection of Jesus. All we need to do is allow our hearts to be moved by that mystery and everyone will know that He is alive
So here we are, celebrating the Second Sunday of Easter, the Sunday within the octave of Easter, the Sunday also known as “Mercy Sunday,” and as per usual, we hear the story of “Doubting Thomas” and we know how that story goes. The Apostles were locked in the Upper Room for fear of the Jews, the Romans and whatever else might be “out there.” But I don’t think that’s all they were afraid of. I think they were also afraid of what was inside as well. I think they were afraid of what was in their hearts, of the future, of who they were, and how they would go on, even if what was currently “out there” was no longer out there. Remember, each one of them, with the exception of John, had betrayed Jesus, they failed to stand beside Him in His hour of need. I am pretty sure that a lot of soul searching was going on. I am pretty sure that, yes, they were scared, but I bet they also were pretty remorseful, pretty sorry, pretty regretful, pretty down on themselves. And so the doors were locked. Do we ever do that? Do we ever lock the doors of our hearts, of our souls, perhaps because partially we are afraid of what’s “out there,” but maybe even more so because of the regret that’s already in our hearts to the point where we just can’t take any more? I am pretty sure that we do, I am pretty sure that many of us have done this, that many of us are doing it right now, and that many of us will do it again. But that’s where the lesson of this Second, Sunday of Easter, this “Doubting Thomas” Sunday, this Mercy Sunday comes in. Although the doors were locked we are told that Jesus came and stood in their midst. That’s what He did for the disciples, and that’s what He does for us. Imagine their amazement, but also imagine their shame and their fear because of their guilt? But what does He bring? “Peace be with you,” He says to them. He brings mercy and forgiveness and gives them a mission- to forgive the sins of all. That’s what He brings to us, and to our locked hearts. Peace. Mercy. Forgiveness. New Purpose. Amazingly and Unbelievably… Are your doors locked? That might be able to keep the bad guys out there, but take heart, they won’t be able to keep Jesus out, not if you long for Him.
Believe it or not, it is Palm Sunday, 2022! We are about, once again to enter into holiest of all weeks of the year, as we begin by commemorating the Lord’s triumphal entry into Jerusalem and His Passion. Next Sunday of course, we will celebrate His Resurrection. But what about all the days in between-remember it is “Holy Week”; it is made up of seven days, not just one or two. Our invitation and challenge is to make sure that we do not miss it, that we accept the invitation and challenge of Jesus to walk with Him from the time of His triumphal entry into Jerusalem, through His sorrowful passion to His joyful Resurrection. I firmly believe that here at Saint Aloysius Parish you will have ample opportunity to do just that. Of course, we will begin by participating in today’s celebration of the Mass of Palm Sunday. Note that we are invited to leave from Mass in silence as a sign of the fact that we are beginning the most solemn journey with Jesus through the holiest of weeks. Perhaps you would consider participating in our 8:30 AM Masses on Monday, Tuesday and/or Wednesday mornings so that you might continue walking with Jesus as He moves closer and closer to the Upper Room and Gethsemane. I encourage you to take advantage of the opportunity on Tuesday evening at 6:30 PM for the Sacrament of Reconciliation. Please note this is your last chance to receive the sacrament before Easter. Then, on Holy Thursday we will celebrate the Mass of the Lord’s Supper at 7:00 PM. Join us as we present the newly blessed sacramental oils, celebrate once again with Jesus the Last Supper, the First Mass, the institution of the Eucharist and of the Priesthood. At the end of Mass we will process the Blessed Sacrament down Hanover Street and back into the Gather Center to the Altar of Repose which will be where the Sacred Heart statue now stands. As the Triduum continues we will commemorate Christ’s passion and death with the celebration of Morning Prayer on Good Friday at 8:30 AM. Adoration will continue throughout the day until our Celebration of the Lord’s Passion at 3:00 PM. This is an absolutely moving service which includes the most powerful ritual of the veneration of the Cross. On Holy Saturday morning at 8:30AM you may bring your Easter food to be blessed within the celebration of Morning Prayer. Then we wait with heartfelt expectation for the blessing of the Easter Fire at 7:43 PM on the evening of Holy Saturday as we begin the Easter Vigil and celebrate the Resurrection of Jesus. As you can see, this is indeed the holiest of weeks. Do not miss it!
They thought they had Him this time. Here was a woman caught in the act of adultery. The law demanded that she be stoned to death. But what about Jesus’ message of mercy? Note how the Pharisees did not care at all about the woman or the sin. They only cared about putting an end to Him. And this time they thought they had Him dead to rights. If He let her go, He was clearly breaking the Mosaic Law. But if He did not let her go, then what about all of His talk about mercy and forgiveness? They thought for sure there was no way out for Him. So, what does Jesus do? Well, basically He turned the law on them. The law also called for two witnesses who were known to be free from any suspicion of wrong doing to make the official accusation. They did not have two such witnesses. Therefore, there was no one to cast the first stone at her. They could not fulfill the prescriptions of their own law so the woman was not condemned; she was off the hook on a technicality. But what about the law-it called for death. Where was the justice? The woman would not die for her sin but the story was not over. Jesus knew that when He saved this woman’s life and let her go free that He had sealed His own fate. He knew He had not seen the last of the Pharisees. He knew that they would be back in force, especially after this latest humiliation and would not stop until He was gone. He knew that because of His action He would most definitely die. But He saved her life any way and upheld the Law by choosing to die in her place. What He did for her, He does for us. We commit sin, and because of our sin He dies and sets us free, urging us to sin no more. We might wonder about the woman in this story. Did she turn away from her sin? But really, we should wonder about us. Will we ever turn away from ours?