Am I My Brother's Keeper?

 

23^rd Sunday in Ordinary Time

Ez 33:7-9
Rm 13:8-10
Mt 18:15-20

The scriptures today are pretty clear: you are accountable for your neighbor’s actions. If your neighbor is sinning, it is your responsibility to talk to him about it, educate him if he is ignorant of his sin, and call him to repentance and conversion. He may accept what you say and change, or he may reject you outright, but if you don’t you try you will be held accountable for the consequences of his actions.

Wow. I don’t want to do that. I don’t know how to do that. Am I my brother’s keeper? Who am I to judge?

This flies right in the face of common wisdom today. You live your truth and I’ll live mine, and people can do whatever they like as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone else. But Ezekial and Jesus are saying that we are all interconnected and responsible for each other. We are all called to help each other work out our salvation. No man is an island, and we aren’t saved individually but in community. We are one body, the Body of Christ, and are all called to work together in that type of intimate unity. The business of discipleship is the salvation of souls. A Christian admonition is meant to guide someone who has lost their way back onto the path to heaven.

But if that’s the case, and the actions of each individual affect the entire body, then it’s also in my best interests personally to help the body be free of sin. Your sin has consequences not just for you but for me as well. There are no private sins, no victimless crimes. My sin affects you, and yours affect me. St. Paul says that the wages of sin is death. Suffering and death are not the result of God’s actions but ours. We all experience suffering and death, even if we are in a state of grace. Jesus suffered and died, even though he was completely without sin.

Sin builds upon sin so that ultimately the individual’s sin affects the whole of humanity. There are sins that you did not commit that affect your life profoundly. There is individual sin and there are corporate or societal sins. All the great isms of history. Racism, sexism, Nazism. You may not be racist or sexist or a Nazi, but those collective sins affect you whether you committed them yourself or not.

So it makes perfect sense that if we are all affected by the sins of others, we are also responsible for trying to correct and forgive those sins. The scriptures are also pretty clear on how we are to do that. And it is all based around love and humility. We correct one another because we have a profound concern for each other’s welfare, not just our immediate wellbeing and happiness but our eternal happiness as well.

If you were here last week you heard Fr. Gray preach on the idea of rebuking those in error. As you recall, last week’s gospel had Jesus rebuking St. Peter. Get behind me Satan. That was pretty harsh, and Jesus didn’t mince any words. Fr. Gray spoke of how difficult it is for us to experience correction, to accept the rebuke. It is always uncomfortable to have our faults pointed out to us, especially if we are called to change our ideas or behavior.

This week we hear the flip side of that when we are called to correct others. That is also a very uncomfortable thing to do. Most of us do not like confrontation and avoid doing anything that may cause people to not like us. But when we do rebuke, we so often do it poorly, and actually drive people further away from us. So many people these days rebuke based upon a difference of opinion or political ideology. We see it every day in the cancel culture. It’s ironic that the more we talk about tolerance the less tolerant we become of people who don’t share our own beliefs. That type of rebuke or lashing out or downright meanness is not based on love, but on hatred.

But I think most times we rebuke someone without really thinking about it. We just react in the moment, and it’s counterproductive. We are often harsh and condemning when we react in a situation, and that is not the way to win someone over to the gospel. It’s all in your approach. It’s all about your intent.

Ezekial talks about sin in general today, while Jesus refers to how to treat the person who sins against you. In both instances, the first thing you do is pray for the person or persons or institution that is acting sinfully, especially if they are persecuting you. Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you. No lasting spiritual behavior change happens without prayer, lots of prayer.

Next, make no assumptions, even if you know the situation and person intimately, even if they tell you what they are doing. Do not make assumptions based upon your limited knowledge, because you will never know the whole story. Always start from the assumption of a person’s ignorance versus malice. Even if you know the person is living a potentially compromising lifestyle you really have no idea if they first know and believe it to be sinful or even if they are acting sinfully in their situation. That is where we can become judgmental. Do not make assumptions on individuals based upon their age, sex, political affiliation, race, religion, or sexual orientation. Your role is to gently and lovingly be open to hearing what they have to say and then present the truth to them as taught by Christ and his Church. Our job is to know, to inform, and influence, not judge and condemn. We are called to be prudent, which means to act with the proper people in the proper time and place, with the proper message.

Of course, this assumes you actually know the truth, and are not acting upon your personal belief, biases, or what you have always thought to be true. Check it out and get your facts straight. When someone posts something on social media that contradicts the truths of the faith, especially if they profess to be Catholic, don’t attack them or ridicule them. Don’t make it personal. Instead, post an applicable teaching from an authoritative Catholic source. Call them to conversion. Inform, influence, and persuade. Let the Holy Spirit do the rest.

If someone does something wrong that you are personally aware of, you have a responsibility to talk to them about it. Sometimes people are unaware that they have hurt you or that what they did was wrong. There’s a difference between thinking something is a sin and knowing it is a sin and doing it anyway. I think we have raised entire generations that have no awareness that some things they think are natural and good are actually wrong. It is our responsibility to inform them of reality, as we have been taught by Jesus and his church. And, as Jesus tells us today, not just the responsibility but the authority to do so.

But what if they don’t listen, or outright reject our message? Jesus says we are to bring in backup. Take a couple of witnesses with us and try again. In Jewish law, all it took to establish a case was to have the collaborating testimony of two or three witnesses. Take Jesus with you. “Where two or three are gathered together in my name, there I am in the midst them.”

If even that fails, take it to the church.  Every sin especially affects the church, the Body of Christ. Jesus clearly states here that the church has both the responsibility and the authority to judge questions of faith and morals. When he told his apostles, “Whatever you bind on earth is bound in heaven and whatever you loose on earth is loosed in heaven” he gave them the authority to judge actions and establish laws that apply here on earth that are backed by the authority of God himself. So, the Church must be involved.

Finally, Jesus proclaims judgment on the unrepentant sinner. Treat them as you would treat a gentile or tax collector. And we know how the Jews treated those folks. They had no contact with gentiles and they ostracized and abused tax collectors. That seems pretty harsh and doesn’t really paint a picture of a merciful Jesus.

But it’s not judgmental to give someone a chance to repent. Several chances, in fact. And how did Jesus treat tax collectors? He ate with them. One of them was actually an apostle. The door was always open, but Jesus never pulled any punches with sinners. He always called them to repentance and always forgave and welcomed them back into relationship with him when they did.

That’s what people do when they love each other. Jesus wasn’t laying out a legalistic process for judging sinners. He is telling us to be persistent and gentle in calling people back into relationship. And most of all, he is telling us to try, at least try. I think that many of us don’t even take that first step when someone hurts us. We don’t have the courage to tell the person how we feel and reach out to them. We keep quiet when we see injustice and oppression in society. We don’t think we can make a difference. Most of us just let it go and write it off. Or we just steep in our bitterness and resentment.

We must always treat sinners with compassion because we are all sinners who want and need compassion ourselves. Loving our neighbor as ourselves means we treat them as we want to be treated, and nobody wants to feel condemned and outcast. We correct our children all the time when they do something wrong. We also punish them when necessary. We do that out of love for them because we do not want them to suffer any long term harmful consequences. That is not being judgmental, that is being responsible parents.

We are our brother’s keeper. We are all responsible for one another. Remember that admonishing the sinner is one of the spiritual works of mercy, along with instructing the ignorant, counseling the doubtful, and bearing patiently those who wrong us.

We are all just beggars looking to be fed. And so we must be there for one another. Just as we provide for the physical needs of people we must also look out for one another’s spiritual needs. We do it out of love. We do it because we want to be loved. The most loving thing you can do for someone is help them get to heaven, to be with the God who created them. To correct someone who sins is to show them the ultimate compassion.

It is to lead them to the thing that will bring them the greatest happiness.

Happiness does not come from doing whatever we want to do. Happiness comes from living as we were created to live, according to the commandments of the Lord. Those commandments are not just a set of arbitrary or oppressive rules. God set them up for us to guide us to him. Jesus said that we are his friends if we keep his commandments. He then gave us the responsibility and authority to help one another keep them.

That’s not being judgmental. Only God will judge us. One day each and every one of us will stand before the Lord, alone, and there will be judgment. That is the moment when we will feel the effects of the gentle corrections we had received during our lives here on Earth. How we reacted to those corrections will make all the difference. At that moment we will also experience the joyful consequences of how we responded to those times we were called to be loving to our neighbor. And that includes when we were called to show mercy to the sinner.

For we will be shown mercy to the extent that we show mercy.

Life Finds a Way

 

16^th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Cycle A

 

Here we are in mid-summer, and since we’re in the Cycle A readings from the Gospel of Matthew, that means parables, lots of parables. I don’t know if it’s intentional or not, but since most of Jesus’ parables are around agricultural themes, summer is the perfect time for them since everything has been planted and is growing nicely around us. Last week we heard the parable of the sower planting the seeds. This week we see the seeds growing up leading to the harvest. And all is not good in the garden.

 

It’s funny that I was just quoting this parable to Nancy the other day, which I sometimes do, and which annoys her to no end. We have this young tree in our yard that we bought and planted a couple years ago, and it didn’t survive this last winter. It was obviously dead, and we were planning to dig it up and put something else in its place. But suddenly a small shoot sprang up at the base of the trunk that looked like it was from the tree itself. Then another and a third started growing, and it was coming from the root ball of the tree, even though the rest of the tree seemed dead.

 

Nancy asked if we should cut down the dead tree to allow the shoots to grow better, and I said I didn’t know if that would help the shoots or kill them also, and well, that’s when I quoted this parable, not knowing that it would be the readings for today. That’s when the eyes started to roll. Like in the parable, we decided to continue to water and fertilize it and let the entire thing grow together and perhaps in the fall it would become more apparent what to do. And you know, those little shoots have been growing like crazy. In just a few weeks they are already half the height of the tree itself!  It seems that what was apparently dead had hidden life within it, just beneath the surface, and given the chance has burst forth with great vigor. Remember that quote from Jurassic Park, “Life finds a way”?

 

This parable addresses a basic understanding of who we Christians see ourselves to be and how we are to engage with the world. How are the wheat and the weeds to live together, when they seem to be always struggling for life? Christians have always lived a dual life. We have been given such a strong hope in eternal life, in the good news of Jesus Christ. We know that we are not destined just for this world alone, that we are to live in the world but be not of it. We are people of life, but the reality of life is that wheat and weeds are all planted here together.

 

There are so many weeds in the world that try to choke out our life. Our inherent defense mechanisms often make us want to either attack them or withdraw to a safe place, to defend what we have and separate ourselves from the pain and the hurt. We should do neither if we are to be true tenders of the garden. We are called to engage the world and truly transform it through the love of Christ, just as he did. We must affect change from within, one human heart at a time.

 

I guess it was a thing back in Jesus’ day for someone to sow tares amongst an enemy’s wheat crop, and that it was really hard to tell them apart. That’s what made it so dangerous. It’s that way in life sometimes, too. It’s often hard to tell the wheat from the weeds. Sometimes what we think are weeds are actually wheat, and vice versa. It’s funny that we are the ones who usually identify with the wheat in this parable. We’re not the weeds. We’re the good folks who need to be protected, and I think we are for the most part. But maybe we play it too safe sometimes. We usually focus on the danger of the weeds choking out the wheat but what if the opposite happens? If we leave them to grow together perhaps the wheat will influence and change the weeds into wheat. There’s always hope that things will change. No one’s state is fixed forever in this life. We all can make choices for God up until the very end.

 

That small mustard seed of faith and that measure of yeast starts off in each individual long before it can affect anyone else. We need to take the time and effort to nurture our own fragile faith before we can ever influence others. We are ultimately responsible for our own salvation, but we are also called to be faithful stewards of the kingdom here on earth. Just as we pray for the grace and strength to persevere ourselves, we are called to go and make disciples of all nations. We are to till the field, nurture what seed has been planted, and never give up on anyone, including ourselves.

 

Remember the parable of the sower last week? The sower isn’t picky about where he throws the seed. He just spreads it everywhere and it falls where it may. Some falls on rocky or hard ground that rejects it and some falls on good soil where it has a chance to take root and grow. The outcome is not up to the sower, but with the ground. The seed is planted in everyone, and the measure of whether it grows into wheat or weed is the fruit it bears. We are the deciders of that. The seed is the Word of God, which is unchanging and the same for everyone. How we choose to respond to that word, how we choose to nurture it, tend it, spread it and cause it to grow and change us and the world is how we will be measured ourselves. No one is created a weed. We choose to be one or the other.

 

It can be hard to remain focused on our salvation. Sometimes the seed is dormant, like in the winter, and it’s hard for us to have hope. Sometimes we feel like my tree, dead on the outside, but deep down the root is still there, just waiting for the spring to come to burst forth. And oftentimes we just need a caring, kind person to gently tend us, even prune us, so that we can grow into our potential and bear fruit.

And we are called to nurture others just as we need nurturing ourselves.

 

Just as there is a sower there is also a reaper. God expects a return on his investment. We hear that all the time in Jesus’ parables. Jesus always offers hope but he also warns of the consequences of our decisions and actions. Wheat is wheat and weeds are weeds, and the two in the end cannot both be in the barn, because wheat is life and weeds choke that life. But it’s not our job to judge between them ourselves. Remember that it may not be apparent which is wheat and which is weed until the end. Our job is not to sow but to tend both the wheat and the weeds together.

 

Wait and see. You never know what might spring up. There’s always hope for a weed. Don’t rush to condemn, root out and destroy. Patiently tend to the field and let God sort it out in the end.

 

 

The Courage of Your Convictions

 

12^th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Cycle A

I find these readings today to be especially disturbing and challenging. It has a call to action that is very uncomfortable for me, because it is causing me to dig deep into what I believe and what I am being called to profess and defend. Whoever denies me before others I will deny before my Heavenly Father. How horrifying if that were the case.

As I’ve been following Justin Hibbard’s podcast, Why Catholic, which, by the way, I highly recommend, where he so clearly and articulately explains why he became a Catholic and also various Church teachings and beliefs, I have tried to discern for myself why I remain a Catholic. I mean, it’s not easy. I guess what it’s all boiled down to, it is here that I find the truth, and the answers to the most fundamental questions humanity faces. Who am I, why am I here, what is my purpose in life, how am I to live best with other people, and what is my future? I assume we all face those questions from time to time in our lives. At least I hope we do. I think it’s really important to find the truth, to know the truth, and to live the truth. Wouldn’t that be the definition of living my true self? Nobody wants to be living a lie. The truth is that God-shaped hole in ourselves that can be filled with nothing else.

But is there such a thing as truth? We hear people say all the time today that they want to live “their truth”, which supposes that truth is subjective, changeable, fluid. What does that mean? Can there be more than one truth? Is truth unchanging or is it just a matter of what you believe it to be? There is the saying that perception is reality, and that how we see things through the lens of our experience is how they really are, but that’s really just interpretation, not necessarily the truth. And when it comes to Jesus, does he change because our perceptions and experience of him may be different? Is he a different Lord to you than he is to me, just because we believe him to be different? That might be true if he is just a man, but not if he is God. God never changes, and neither do his commandments.

 If two people hold diametrically opposed beliefs on the truth of something, either one is right and the other is wrong, or they are both wrong. They can’t both be true.

Some things are what they are. Isn’t truth reality, and reality truth?  Your belief about them does not change their reality. If it can then we are standing on shifting sand, and we are living in confusion and fear. Relativism like that leads to chaos and upheaval and ultimately violence.

What is truth? That is what Pontius Pilate asked Jesus at his trial. It was in response to Jesus’ claim that he had come into the world to testify to the truth. And if I am a Catholic because I am seeking the truth, then I must be a disciple of Jesus whose purpose and mission was to testify to the truth. The supreme truth we profess is that Jesus is the Son of God, that he died for our sins and has opened heaven to us. The supreme truth we believe is our hope in eternal life. Jesus did not say he is a way, a truth, and a life. He did not say it was his way, or his truth, or his life. He said he is the way, the truth, and the life. There is no gray area there. He didn’t say we are to live our own truth, but his truth. And if I claim to have my own truth, isn’t that setting myself up as God? Either he is truth or he is a liar. If there is one God, and that God is truth, then there is one truth. And that is why I must follow him. That truth is the most powerful truth in all of history, and the most wonderful thing for all of humanity, and we are called as disciples to not only shout that from the rooftops but to defend it to the death, if necessary.

 It seems like Christianity, and particularly Catholicism, is under heavier attack these days in Western civilization than any other time in my lifetime. It is not just an undercurrent of bias and bigotry, it is now out in the open, brazen, and widespread. There have been waves of persecution throughout the ages, but this time it feels different. It is prevalent in the common wisdom, and has now become common practice in places and amongst large groups. It seems that truth itself is purposely under attack.

 Have you noticed anything like that? Maybe you have experienced that yourself in your interactions with people you work with, on social media, in your family? What are we as Catholics to do in response, especially in the public square? If we are living in a post-Christian, almost pagan society, it’s sort of like returning to the earliest days of the Church, and so Jesus’ message to his disciples is especially meaningful to us today.

How are we to react and respond, and defend the gospel these days? Sometimes the good that was done in secret comes to light, but not often. I think one of the problems we have as a church is that the good we do is often not brought to light. The darkness so easily obscures the light. Evil seems so overpowering. How do we build up the image of the Church in our own community? The good news of the gospel is that eventually the good will come to light, justice and peace will prevail. There is always hope.

Whoever denies me before others I will deny before my heavenly Father. We know the story of St. Peter, who denied Jesus three times. His denial was that he didn’t even know Jesus. He didn’t denounce Jesus or join in on the shouts for his condemnation that day during the trial. He simply denied that he even knew him. But the other apostles also denied Jesus by running away.

I can fully understand and relate to the apostles predicament. It is easy to be a disciple when you are in the presence daily of Jesus, witnessing his miracles, hearing his teaching, and basking in the light of his love. But when confronted by opposition, especially with mob violence, it is much harder to have the courage of your convictions. I think for us today it is easy to hold our beliefs to ourselves, to not rock the boat, to not be confrontational when we see our faith and our Lord being attacked.

How do we deny we know Jesus? I guess the first question should be, do we really know Jesus? Do we truly have a relationship with him through prayer? Do we get to know him through scripture? Do we fully participate in the holy sacrifice of the Mass and receive him worthily, body, soul and divinity, in the eucharist each and every week. Have we recognized his deep presence in our everyday lives, or is he on the periphery? We can’t defend what we do not know.

And then I guess we need to not be part of the problem. How often do we ourselves join in the chorus of criticism of the Church and not shout the goodness and joy of the gospel from the rooftops? Or, even worse, we are so apathetic and unaware that we don’t notice or even care? Is our denial the belief that there is not even anything to defend?

We also deny Jesus when we say nothing when he is blasphemed and belittled and attacked by society, by the mob. We deny Jesus when we allow his name to be dragged through the mud of popular opinion. Our Lord said we would suffer persecution for his sake, and that we are to take joy in that. Blessed are you when they insult you and persecute you and utter every kind of slander against you because of me. And we have and we do.

But we are also called to defend our Lord. We can turn the other cheek personally ourselves and not return like for like, but we are not to deny our Lord. We can take our blows silently as he did, but we are not to say we do not even know him. The name of the Lord is sacred. Hallowed be your name, we pray. Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord your God in vain, we are commanded. The same St. Peter who denied Jesus’ name wrote that there is no other name by which we are saved. If we do not defend that name, we in effect are denying Jesus to others. Take it personally. Defend your Lord as you would defend your children if they were being bullied.

And the best way to defend our Lord and confront our enemies is to pray for them. It has been great to see how some of our leaders and large groups of laity have responded to recent attacks. Through peaceful protests and prayer. Jesus said to love our enemies and pray for those who persecute you. Some people think that is too passive and ineffective, and it is truly powerful. Jesus even prayed on the cross for forgiveness for those who were crucifying him. So keep praying, keep persevering in doing good and living your life as a true disciple. Don’t give up on the truth. Know it, understand it, and proclaim it from the rooftops.

It takes courage to defend what we believe. It is often a lonely path we take, and like Jeremiah the attacks can be overwhelming. Jesus tells his disciples today, “Fear Not”; have courage in the face of the opposition they will encounter when the preach and live the gospel. I tell my RCIA classes that when they make the decision to become Catholic and live as disciples, they are taking a risk. But it has really become real for me seeing what Justin Hibbard has been experiencing as he courageously states his beliefs in the public square. He has taken some hard hits from some of his closest friends and has actually lost some who could not understand nor accept his conversion.

Why are you Catholic? What do you believe to be the truth? How important is that truth to you, to your family, to your community, to the world, and to what ends will you go to defend it? It will take the courage of your convictions, and you may lose a lot, but you have so much more to gain. The flip side of Jesus’ admonition to us today is that if we defend him to the world he will also defend us to his Heavenly Father. It’s a two-way street.

But then, I am amazed that Jesus would acknowledge me at all. How wonderful an advocate I have in Jesus. I am so valued that he will stand up before the throne of the Father and plead my case. Why wouldn’t I be one of his messengers here on earth? I know that I am an imperfect disciple. I know that I fail spectacularly in living the gospel. I also know who is on my side.

 

Tender Mercies - Patty Stark Funeral Homily

 

Blessed are the merciful, for they shall be shown mercy.

Patty, being how she was, gave some explicit instructions for her funeral, and she asked that I preach specifically on mercy and hope. At the end of her life Patty thought a lot about mercy. She was so aware of the mercy she had been shown by her caregivers and family and friends, and she hoped and relied upon the mercy she believed would be shown her by God.

It is significant that Patty died only two hours after Divine Mercy Sunday. She received her final holy communion that day, her food for the journey. The message of The Divine Mercy is simple. It is that God loves us – all of us. And he wants us to recognize that his mercy is greater than our sins, so that we will call upon him with trust, receive his mercy, and let it flow through us to others.

The message of mercy is hope. Mercy is giving us something we probably don’t deserve and definitely do not earn. It is a gift freely given with nothing expected in return. We can never earn God’s love or eternal life. He offers it to us freely just because we are so valuable in his eyes. And we show our love for him and appreciation of the gift simply by accepting it. We are all given that choice and all we have to do is say yes. God desperately wants us to say yes. He has gone to such great lengths to show his love for us and to give us that hope.

We Christians are people of hope. Here we are in the middle of the Easter season, where we remember and celebrate the greatest sign of hope in all of human history, the resurrection of Jesus Christ, who told his disciples that he was going to prepare a place for us, so that where he is we also should be. In the resurrection we see our future, and that future was purchased at a great price paid through Jesus’ suffering and death.

Jesus said that if we are to be his disciples we need to take up our cross daily and follow him. We all have our crosses to bear, and we have to take them up whether we like it or not. But we also know that the evil reality of suffering can be turned to good, because the evil of Jesus’ suffering was turned to the ultimate good of our redemption. I think Patty understood that, and she sought to offer her own sufferings up for the good of others. Just like Jesus, she did not run away from her cross, but offered it up as a prayer, a very powerful prayer. It was a way to find the mercy and the promise behind the suffering.

Most of us do not do mighty deeds, we do small things out of love. And we experience God’s mercy most in our lives through the little mercies we give to others and receive from others. Those tender mercies shown through kindness.

The mercy shown by a husband who watches over his wife for years and years, patiently protecting her, caring for her smallest needs, being a foundation of stability in the midst of chaos.

The mercy shown by a daughter who is always there, who reordered her life to be there for her mother, especially at the end. Who is a source of great strength to her father.

The mercy shown by a team of doctors who truly care and show compassion, who became true friends.

The mercy shown by friends who send little notes, bring food, and pray so fervently for a cure and for peace.

The mercy shown by the afflicted to their caregivers, allowing people to love them, to help them, to forgive them and reconcile with them.

It is those simple mercies that give us simple hope and help us get through each day. Hope that this treatment will work and when it fails, that the next one will. Hope that I will feel better today than yesterday. And even in the face of disappointment hope does not falter because of our ultimate hope. Death is a reality for us all, and we all know that no matter what we do to delay it, in the end we will lose that battle, but we take comfort in our belief that there is something more, something good and holy and peaceful, where we can take our rest after our struggles. We believe that Jesus’ death redeemed us and made an end to death itself for us all.

Patty talked a lot about unfinished business, of reconciliation and redemption, of healing, not just physically but of relationships. She prayed so hard for that. She prayed for each and every one of you in this church today, just as so many of you prayed for her.

I think the most powerful and meaningful way we show mercy to one another is through forgiveness. Forgiving someone, especially when they don’t deserve it or even don’t want it, is the highest form of mercy. And so many times it is so difficult to do so because the hurt can run so deep. And the way we best experience God’s love is through the forgiveness we receive from those we have hurt.

Patty trusted in God’s mercy. She had to. In the end, that’s all she had. That’s all we will have. Every human being has a desire for immortality. We all want to leave a legacy behind. Even if we profess no belief in God, we want everlasting life in the memories of those we have touched and influenced in our lives. Two days before she died, I asked Patty how she wanted to be remembered, and she said as being a person of hope. She said that was her final wish for each one of you, also. She wanted you to have what she had; hope based upon faith.

We all run the race. We all start from different places, and some have a harder race than others. It doesn’t matter if we veer off course during the race. What matters is how we finish. Patty ran the race and finished well, as an example to us all.

That may be the tenderest mercy.

 

 

What Kind of God Do We Have!!??

Good Friday

What kind of a God do we have?

I remember when I saw the movie, The Passion of the Christ, the first time. Probably like many of you, I was stunned by the violence, by the raw hatred, inflicted upon the person who I consider to be God Himself. A god who I believe to be all knowing, all present, and all powerful. A god who is in control of everything and obviously knows what he’s doing. And this god chose to suffer and die this way. If anyone could have prevented this violence upon himself, who could have come down from that cross if he wanted, chose not to. For whatever reasons that I will never fully understand, Jesus submitted to this when he didn’t have to. He chose to.

Just because he wanted to submit to the will of his father. Couldn’t there have been another way? Why like this? I have read and prayed and studied about it, and intellectually I can understand and give good reasons based upon scripture, but still I ask why? Why had the Father chosen this path for his son? Why was pure goodness subjected to pure evil? It doesn’t seem just. It doesn’t seem right.

What kind of god would choose to do this…for me. It is an extremely humbling thing to think that he did all that because of me. Am I really worth that?

One thing that really bothers me is injustice. Even when I watch a movie where the hero is beset by injustice, when he or she is being set up to take the fall, I get physically upset. And I think that’s a universal feeling, because all good stories seem to end with the hero winning in the end. And it’s not just because we like to root for a winner. I think it’s because we all have experienced injustice in our own lives and so need to have hope that justice will ultimately prevail. We will win in the end. There is always hope.

But what is justice? Justice is giving someone what is rightfully theirs, restoring what has been taken away. From God’s point of view justice is not getting what we deserve by our actions but what we deserve simply because he wants us to have it. It is not based upon merit but only because he has created us and has chosen to give us everything we need to know him, love him and be with him. It is pure gift. And God’s justice is tempered by mercy. Without mercy we could have no justice. That’s the kind of god we have. Because that’s what love is and what love does.

Jesus had told his disciples that he would ultimately prevail, that the Son of Man would be glorified, and that his suffering was to fulfill the scriptures, but that didn’t take away the pain and horror of seeing him tortured and crucified. It was the ultimate injustice, and while they had heard his words, the reality of that day came crashing down on them. Even his resurrection three days later did not take away that pain. Only the infusion of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost would help them to understand, to have hope, and to direct their lives fully to the will of God.

Jesus’ journey on this earth began with a young girl saying “let it be done to me according to your word” and ended with him saying “But not my will but yours be done”. Maybe the lesson of Good Friday is that we are all called to make that same choice. Your will be done, Lord. I may never fully understand the why, but I trust in you. I trust that there is a plan, that there is a reason for the way things are. You are God and I am not. Let it be done according to your will. Yes, it is humbling, but it also is liberating. Come let us adore.

 

 

Do You Believe This?

 

5^th Sunday of Lent

Cycle A

This is one of the most emotional gospel passages. We can feel the anguish and confusion in Martha and Mary’s exclamations, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” “Where were you, Jesus, when we needed you the most? We thought you loved Lazarus, and us. Don’t you know that with our brother gone we have lost everything? You were there for the blind man and for so many strangers, why not us? We thought we were special to you. We have been faithful to you when others have fallen away. We love you so deeply, why have you abandoned us?” Everyone around them was weeping. Jesus was weeping. It says he was perturbed, deeply disturbed. This wasn’t just a random scene that Jesus came upon. This was a planned event. Jesus knew that they needed him, yet he chose to delay in order to what, make a point?

 

It can seem like that sometimes, can’t it? So many times in our lives we feel that our prayers are not answered, that God is far from us. Where is he when we call out to him in our distress? Why does he delay? It seems that the darker our suffering the further he can be from us. Why doesn’t he do something? I know that he can. I know that he loves me. Why doesn’t he show it? He told us to ask and we shall receive, to be persistent in our prayers. Where is the answer? So many times, it doesn’t make sense to us.

 

But there is always an answer, and it is simply, trust me. You do not see the entire picture yet. Trust me. I know it is painful. It is painful to me, too. Trust me. We will never really know the reasons behind God’s actions. After all, he’s God and we’re not. And he doesn’t act on our timeline or desires. But like Martha and Mary, because we believe we are willing to accept what is and our own limitations of understanding, even when it’s hard, even in the face of death. It may not make sense, Lord, but even then, I accept it because I have that ultimate belief in who you are and what you have promised me. This pain will end, and I will rise.

 

 “I am the resurrection and the life. Do you believe this?”

 

Each and every one of us will be faced with that ultimate question of our belief. Either it will be when someone we love is suffering, or at the end of our own lives. How will you answer? “I don’t know” is not an answer. It’s not what you know, it’s what you believe. Do you believe in eternal life and that Jesus is the way to obtain it?

 

This is really what it’s all about. It is the core question of our existence. This is why we are Christians. Christianity is not just a way of living; it is our hope. It is the hope in the resurrection that guides us and drives us. It is what gives us our true purpose in life. If this life here on earth were all there is, why bother? If all we have is the struggle and suffering of this world and then eternal oblivion, why would we ever strive to be better, to love one another, to change things? The belief in eternal life is deeply embedded in each human being because we are created in the image and likeness of the eternal God. It’s the most natural belief in the world.

 

I mean, can you imagine what chaos the world would be in if no one believed in eternal life? If no one had come to show us the way and to give proof that there is more than just this life alone? You think it is bad now, there would be no order, no self-control. Everyone would just be in it for themselves, living for pleasure and power.

 

But that’s just one aspect of it. Can you imagine the despair that the world would be plunged into if there were not this hope that ultimately goodness, peace and justice awaits us? How could you live with yourself if there was never any hope of redemption, of forgiveness? Jesus death on the cross redeemed us and gave us the possibility of heaven. His resurrection showed us what that heaven would be. We see too truly the results of sin. It’s one thing to know our sins are forgiven, it’s another to see the result of that forgiveness.

 

“I am the resurrection and the life.” Life is the core of our faith, of who we are as human beings, because we were made to live, and to live fully. Do you ever ponder what’s at stake here? Do you see the hope in those words?

 

And it is not a false hope. God himself deigned to take on our life, to become man, not because he needed or wanted to experience humanity, but because he wanted us to experience divinity. He wanted to show us the reality of life, life here on earth and in heaven. And it is that reality that can help us accept the temporary pain and suffering we experience so often here. But even more, he wants us to fully experience the joy and love and peace and justice that is also a part of life.

 

This morning we will be calling forth our elect and candidates for the third scrutiny. The past two weeks and today we have heard in the gospels

three stories with the common theme of calling forth. Jesus asks those who he encounters to do something for him. “Give me a drink”. “Go and wash in the Pool of Siloam”. “Lazarus, come forth”. All of our elect and candidates have expressed the feeling that are here because they have been called. Something you cannot fully express has drawn you to the Catholic Church. Over the past several months you have seen that seed grow into fuller understanding, and I think you now have a clearer idea of why you were called. You are called to the waters, your eyes have been opened, and you have hope in Jesus as the resurrection and the life.

 

Jesus knew Lazarus. The woman at the well was never named, nor was the man born blind. Lazarus was named. As are his sisters, Martha and Mary. Why is that? Because for Jesus it was personal. These were not some anonymous people who he met along the way. Martha and Mary asked Jesus to come. Jesus loved this family very much. He knew them by name. That’s important, because when we can put a name to someone they become familiar to us, more important to us.

 

You are also loved very much by Jesus. He knows your name. He knew it before you were even created. He has carved it into the palm of his hand. For Jesus, it’s personal. Your life is personal to him. He weeps over your pain and rejoices over your successes. And like Lazarus, he has called you forth to new life. He unbinds you and sets you free.

 

 

 

Born Blind

 

4^th Sunday of Lent

Cycle B – Scrutiny

 

Have you ever experienced total and complete darkness. It can be terrifying. A few years ago we went to the Black Hills of South Dakota and toured the Wind Cave. It is an amazing experience. The cave is one of the longest in the world, 150 miles long, and it goes down over 100 feet. It has a rare type of stalactite there that hangs really low, so at times you have to bend over to walk. There are strings of lights hanging in the caverns, so it’s easy to see the path, but 100 years ago, when it was first explored, the spelunkers used candles attached to tin hats. I can only imagine what would happen if the candles burnt out and they had to find their way back in complete darkness.

 

At one point we sat in a large cavern on wooden benches, and they turned out the lights. You literally couldn’t see your hand in front of your eyes, and the darkness was almost a physical being that engulfed you. Being that I have claustrophobia I almost panicked. I began to imagine what would happen if they didn’t go back on. It was a bit terrifying, even though I knew it was only temporary.

 

What would it be like to be born blind? What would life be like if we never had experienced light, with nothing to compare the darkness to? We equate darkness with evil. We call Satan the Prince of Darkness, and we fear the dark. Because we can see we feel uncomfortable in the dark. We fear the unknown, we fear what we cannot control. We’re afraid we’ll stumble and fall in the dark. Darkness is frightening for us only because we know the difference between light and darkness. If we were born blind, we would never have experienced light, so darkness would hold no fear for us. For one born blind, who has never experienced the light, stumbling and falling is a natural thing. Relying on the help of others is a requirement for survival.

 

This gospel begins with Jesus’ own disciples asking a question based upon a belief all Jews had at the time – that physical weakness and disease meant you or your family were steeped in sin. If you were a sinner God punished you with infirmity. If you were righteous, you were healthy, wealthy and wise. Everybody believed this: the Pharisees did, the disciples did, and the blind man himself did.

 

The blind man could not enter the temple. Everybody said he shouldn’t be there, and he himself thought he shouldn’t be there. He also thought he was unworthy to be in the presence of God, just because he was blind. He was reduced to begging at the door. The people who passed him every day saw him as unworthy, beneath them, worthless to God and man. And so, he saw himself as unworthy and worthless. How could he ever become worthy? How could he ever come in out of the darkness and be included among the seeing?

 

The saddest thing about the blind man is that he bought into his culture’s prejudices and allowed them to make him feel less about himself, to alienate himself from God and his community. Even today, we can allow outside influences to keep us from God. We can beat ourselves up so much that we actually stay away from God. How wretched you must feel to keep yourself from God. Have you ever not come to Mass because you felt unworthy? Or stayed away because you were not in the “right frame of mind” to receive the Eucharist; that you just didn’t think you could come to Mass with all those people there and try to pretend that everything was ok? Why just go through the motions?

 

Do you think that you shouldn’t come to Mass if you haven’t exactly been living a perfect Christian life lately? I mean, why add one more hypocrite to the mix? Do you think that you have to have it all together in order to worship the Lord? I’m not perfect, so I’ll stay away. Does Jesus really only call the righteous? If that were the case, there’d be no one here. It’s sort of like saying that I’m starving, so I really shouldn’t come to the banquet. The very thing you think you should avoid is the thing you really need. Sometimes we blind ourselves to what we’re really doing here.

 

It’s ironic that the best way to become worthy of the Eucharist is to experience the Eucharist. None of us can ever make ourselves worthy of being here. If blindness is equated with sinfulness, then we’re all born blind, aren’t we? Only God can make us worthy, just by willing it so. So, we have a choice, to beat ourselves up for not being worthy or to accept the grace of God that allows us to see. To exclude ourselves from the banquet or to humbly accept the invitation.

 

Today we hear a story that closely parallels those of our elect who are here with us this morning. Like the blind man, they’re on the outside looking in. Not really sure what they’re seeing. Jesus calls them forth. He makes them uncomfortable at times and calls them to the waters. They do not know the way, so others need to help them get there. When their eyes are opened, they still are not sure exactly who Jesus is, even when he is right in front of them. They come up against opposition. The entrenched prejudices of others try to derail their journey. Sometimes they are thrown out. Sometimes others try to keep them in their places. Finally, Jesus comes to them in the light, and they recognize him for who he is. They have become his disciples.

 

It’s funny, isn’t it, that the ones who thought they were worthy – the Pharisees – were the ones that Jesus said were blind. Their sin was their prejudice against people like the blind man, people they thought were sinners. They could not see their own shortcomings, and that we’re all blind in one way or another. And I am blind about many, many things. I am blind to the plight of the poor because I have never gone hungry in my life. I am blind to prejudice because I have never really experienced it personally. I am blind to the hurts suffered by other people because I am so focused on my own.

I guess in many ways we’re all Pharisees; we’re the good church going folks who think we have all the answers. We’re the ones who go along with the conventional wisdom of our day, blinded to how we are actually making things worse in our ignorance.

 

This morning we are celebrating the second scrutiny for our elect. We’re not here to scrutinize them. They’re here to scrutinize themselves. We all need to scrutinize ourselves. That scrutiny can be painful, but it must be undertaken with open eyes. Only then can we remove the blindness from our hearts. Blindness to our own sinfulness, and blindness to the needs of others, no matter how sinful they have been.

In many ways these elect see more than we do. They hunger for the light that we take so easily for granted, and they don’t have all the barnacles we good Pharisees have built up on our carcasses over time. But just as they have needed our help to see from time to time, we too can draw on their light as we all stumble together towards our Lord.

 

This story is really more a parable with a point, but it doesn’t really describe the blind man’s reaction to his first experience of light. Was it exhilarating, was it terrifying? He had never seen all the things he now could, people, trees, sunlight, buildings. He had only imagined what they would look like. And he never had the complete picture until now.

 

You may have heard the parable of the three blind men who come upon an elephant. They didn’t know what it was. One of them touched the tail and declared, “An elephant is a snake.” Another touched the trunk. “An elephant is like a hose.” The third touched the body and exclaimed, “An elephant is like a mountain!” Each only experienced a part of the reality of the elephant. Their vision was incomplete because they couldn’t see the big picture. They couldn’t see the completeness of the elephant. The blind man had a lot of unlearning to do. His life was really just beginning, and his world view had been completely and radically changed.

 

That’s what it means to be a disciple. St. Paul says, “For now we see in a mirror, darkly, but then face to face: now I know in part, but then shall I know fully even as also I am fully known”. We don’t and can’t see the complete picture yet, but as we encounter Christ more and more in our lives our eyes are opened more and more, and we see him, and ourselves, more distinctly. I remember when the lights went back on in the Wind Cave, how happy and relieved I was to be able to see. When we witness the light of Christ we will be called to completely and radically change our world view. We will be transformed if we allow ourselves to see.

 

Living Water

 

3^rd Sunday of Lent

Cycle A

We’ve sure had a heck of a lot of snow this year, haven’t we? They say it’s the most we’ve had in the past 40 years. And it’s a good thing and a bad thing, isn’t it? It made for a great ski season. Park City has never stayed open until the end of April. And the reservoirs are actually being let off a bit even now, in anticipation of a strong runoff in the Spring, so the watersports should be good this summer.

But I think even the most diehard skiers are a bit tired of it by now. We all say, “Well, we need the water”, and we do, but many towns are starting to fill sandbags just in case there’s flooding. And we’re seeing a lot of avalanches. Water is always a two-edged sword. We either have too much or too little. It can mean life or death. We need it to live but it can also kill us. With the spring runoff upon us, we’re going to start seeing a lot of water making its way down the mountains. Have you ever followed a stream as it meanders down the mountain? Why does it choose the path it does? It doesn’t go straight downhill, which would be the fastest way to flow. It goes this way and that, curving, dropping, and falling, seemingly randomly. Water seems to have a mind of its own, doesn’t it? It really does seem to be alive at times. It finds the path of least resistance, then forces its way into it. It is almost alive. It seems to know where to go and it can completely change the landscape it travels through.

That stream or river didn’t start out as a large, forceful body of water. It started out small, as a trickle of melt off, and it was joined by other small trickles, until it had the wherewithal to force some dirt out of the way, find a crack here and there and flow into it, eventually carving a path for itself. In time, moving through the path of least resistance, it could become a rushing stream or mighty river, giving life to nature and to humanity.

Living water. Finding small cracks and exploiting them. Giving life to nature and to humanity. Such a wonderful image for baptism. And today is all about baptism. This morning we will be celebrating the first scrutiny for our elect, and so we read from the wonderful gospel story of the woman at the well. Our elect are preparing for baptism at the Easter Vigil, and they need to hear this story today, because it’s their story.  Our candidates received their baptism earlier in their lives, and we honor their baptism as well as they hear the renewal of Jesus’ gift of lifegiving water that never dies.

Just like the water in a mountain stream, the living water of Jesus always finds a way through. It seeks out the smallest crack and fills it. Sometimes that crack is caused by our weakness and our sinfulness and our brokenness. God’s living water doesn’t avoid the brokenness, it seeks it out and finds it and fills it. It changes the landscape of our lives and heals it. Jesus knew the Samaritan woman’s sinfulness. He knew the pain her sins had caused her and her community. He didn’t judge her for it. He didn’t withhold his life-giving water. He offered it to her. And when she took it, the whole town was transformed.

The woman at the well came to love Jesus only after he “told me everything I have ever done”. But that was not what turned her heart. Everyone in her village knew her past. It was the fact that even though he had such intimate knowledge of her and her life, he did not judge her for it like her neighbors did. Instead, he offered her eternal life. How liberating that must have felt for someone who felt so ostracized and worthless that she had to go to the well in the middle of the hot day, when no other people were expected to be there! Jesus gave her back her dignity. He spoke to her when he wasn’t supposed to. He conversed with her as an equal, without looking down on her. And he offered her himself, the life-giving water that would change her life forever.

We are all the woman at the well. We all have a past that includes things we aren’t particularly proud of. We all have sinned and have felt the worthlessness sin can bring. And we have all encountered Jesus in some way or other. Some of us have moved our relationship with him to another level, to the level of trust. Some of us have gone all the way to love. We been transformed by the living water of Jesus.

How so very often we take water for granted. We turn on the tap and out it comes. The snows melt and the water somehow gets to the farms so we can have food and into our pipes, so our lawns remain green. We just expect it to be there. We rarely think about it. How so very often we take the living water of baptism for granted. After all, for most of us baptism happened a long, long time ago. What began as a trickle on our foreheads may have dried up. Or it may have grown into a rushing stream that cannot be contained.

Whatever it is now, take a lesson from the snows of winter. Every summer the waters recede, and the desert is parched, yet every winter the snows fall and in the spring it melts and runs down the mountains, starting small and growing in force until it gives life to all nature and to humanity. Every spring we celebrate the season of Lent when we are in the desert. When we are parched. When we come face to face with our own brokenness.

But the snows are melting, and the water is coming.

 

Eliminate Your Enemies

 

We know the great commandment, love your neighbor as yourself. We heard it in our first reading today from Leviticus. Jesus didn’t make up that law, he was just restating it. Today we hear the admonition from Jesus to love our enemies, too. I think the easiest way to love our neighbors is to eliminate them. That’s not as violent as it sounds. It’s actually quite simple. Just see your enemies as your neighbors.

Jesus defined who our neighbor is with the parable of the Good Samaritan, but he doesn’t really ever define what an enemy is. Is that because we all know what an enemy is? Probably not.

The Good Samaritan and the Jew were technically enemies, even though they didn’t know one another. Their societies hated one another going back hundreds of years. Jesus turned this parable on its head. He began it as a response to the arrogant lawyer’s question, “But who is my neighbor”. And the Jews listening expected that the person who would be the neighbor would be the Jew, but it was the person who showed compassion to the enemy who was the neighbor to him. We always think the enemy is the other guy. We never see the enemy as our neighbor.

The neighbor was the one who showed compassion. Jesus didn’t say that the Samaritan and the Jew became friends, or if they ever even met again. Loving your enemies is simply being compassionate in the moment. It is putting aside any prejudices and fears and enmity and just acting in the moment. We don’t know the Samaritan’s motivation. He just acted. Jesus doesn’t say why the enemy acted the way he did; he just acted.

It all boils down to how you view others, how you treat others, no matter who they are, no matter if you think they deserve to be treated badly or not. Like the Good Samaritan, we are called to act with compassion as our motivation and our intention. Don’t worry about the rest.

Wouldn’t that be a simpler way to live? Instead of seeing people as groups or stereotypes or whatever the way you want to classify them, just show them compassion in the moment. Just act as you will. Just go with your gut. Run into the burning building no matter who lives there. In the heat of the moment I think we would all act correctly. It’s those slow burning issues and the things we have to think through that give us fits.

The term neighbor is naturally local. We all live in neighborhoods and our neighbors are those who live close to us. Enemies I think we view from a more distant perspective. I am a history buff, especially military history. To me, the enemies are the Germans or the Japanese or the Russians. They don’t have faces or names. But for most of us our enemies really are those closest to us.

It is said that you can know a lot about a person by knowing who their enemies are. Who are your enemies? You will always have people who disagree with your ideas and positions, who hold prejudice against you just because of your race or religion or social status. You will have people who actually hate you for something you did or said. Many of these you will be unaware of. Most enemies don’t openly attack you or even have a relationship with you. Others are much more vocal and public. Either way, it hurts us to think that people don’t like us. But some enemies are worth having.

Enemies spring up whenever we do something controversial, or good, or these days, just about anything will make someone your enemy it seems. The only people who have no enemies are those who do nothing, say nothing, or stand for nothing. You will have enemies whether you like it or not, whether you choose to have them or not. People will choose to be your enemies and there may be nothing you will ever be able to do to change their minds or win them to your side. As long as there is sin there will be enemies. As long as you are a Christian you will have enemies. It goes with the territory.

You can choose not to view people as enemies. Why not think of them as opponents instead? The term enemy has an undercurrent of violence to it. An enemy doesn’t just oppose you they wish you harm. It has an undercurrent of hatred attached to it. We don’t hate our opponents. Often they can cause us to step up our game, to try to persuade rather than attack and hurt. We can have and can be worthy opponents.

Do you really hate anyone? Loving your enemies does not mean you have to give in to them when they hurt you. It doesn’t mean we are to roll over and play dead. Loving your enemies when they are in the wrong often means opposing them and their positions forcefully and publicly. Admonishing the sinner is one of the spiritual works of mercy. Admonishing isn’t attacking but is a sign of love.

What if they held a war and nobody showed up. Is it still a war? Doesn’t it take two to have a conflict? And how many of those enemies are we allowing to live rent free in our heads, when they probably are not even thinking about us? How many enemies do we make up in our minds? Let it go. What sins you forgive are forgiven them, and what sins you retain are retained. How many sins are you retaining? A grudge hurts you more than them.

But you don’t have to view them as enemies. You do not have to treat them as enemies. However, you don’t have to have a relationship with anyone to love them. Love is much bigger than that. You don’t have to agree with someone to love them, in fact, the bigger love is to love them in spite of your disagreements. You can show great love for an enemy simply by not treating them the way they treat you.

Eliminate your enemies by making them your opponents. But Jesus went even further. He did in fact love his enemies.

Jesus made some very powerful enemies of the religious and political leaders of his day. How did Jesus show love to his enemies? By forgiving them. Even from the cross. Even though they would remain his enemies. Even though they rejected the salvation he offered them. Even though the thought of that caused him just as much, if not more, suffering as the nails in his hands and in his feet. Continue to offer reconciliation. Leave your offering at the altar and go be reconciled to your brother. See your enemy as your brother. Forgive them even if they won’t forgive you, even if they don’t think they need forgiveness. Especially forgive those who have no awareness that they ever hurt you, or even that you consider them an enemy. Maybe they really aren’t. And take the time this lent to think how you are an enemy to others, an enemy vs. just an opponent. Pray for everyone, especially those who persecute you.

Pray for your enemies. I guess you could pray that they start to see things like you do, or that they will stop bothering you, but your enemies may never agree with you or leave you alone, so pray instead for their happiness, for their family, for the problems they are having in their life. Everyone has problems. The Good Samaritan didn’t try to win his enemy over, he just helped him with his problems.

We Boomers remember the famous comic strip, Pogo, with the famous saying, “We have met the enemy, and he is us.” Oftentimes we are our own worst enemy, aren’t we? Don’t be an enemy to anyone. Forgive everyone. Show compassion for everyone, especially for yourself.

But why do this? What is the benefit of loving your enemies?

There are many times that Jesus tells his disciples to do things because by doing so it will gain them a place in heaven, will store up treasures in heaven, who will be the least in the kingdom of heaven and who will be the greatest. But is that why we should love one another? Is it just for our own benefit? Yes, we are to work out our own salvation in fear and trembling, but we are also called to lead others to salvation. We are all about saving souls, ours and our neighbors…and our enemies.

Eliminate your enemies by seeing them as your neighbors, treating them as you neighbors, loving them as your neighbors. Ironically, the way we are to gain everything for ourselves is to give everything to others, especially when it is hard.

Behold the Lamb of God

 

2^nd Sunday in Ordinary Time    

Behold the Lamb of God

Jesus’ baptism was one of the defining events of his life and his public ministry. We just celebrated the Feast of the Baptism of the Lord last Monday, so it is also a major event in the life of the Church. This story is one of the few that are recounted in all four gospels. Mark actually begins his gospel with this story, and Matthew and Luke’s accounts are very similar. And we know the story well. Jesus appears at the Jordan River where John is baptizing and is baptized himself. Upon leaving the water, the Holy Spirit descends upon him in the form of a dove, and a voice from heaven says “You are my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased”. And something powerful happened to Jesus at that time. It was as if the Holy Spirit had invaded Jesus and drove him forward in his public ministry. He begins here and does not stop until Calvary.

As usual, John’s account is different than the others. John does not say that Jesus was actually baptized. All we hear today is that Jesus was walking along the banks of the Jordan and John saw him and exclaimed, “Behold the Lamb of God!” That’s a curious statement, isn’t it? Why didn’t John say something like, “Hey, there’s my cousin Jesus! Look everybody, he’s the one I’ve been telling you about.” Instead, John uses some strange reference to the Lamb of God.

But John’s disciples knew exactly what he was talking about. They had an image and understanding of who the Lamb of God was to be. The Lamb of God referenced the messiah. They had been waiting for him for centuries, and their anticipation of the coming messiah was at a fever pitch at this time in history. At first they thought that John himself might be the one, but he spoke of someone else, someone so great and powerful that he was unfit to even untie his sandals. John’s baptism with water was one of repentance in preparation for the coming of the one who would baptize with fire and the Holy Spirit. This coming Messiah would bring forgiveness of sin and salvation to the entire world, not just to the Jews. It was as Isaiah foretold in our first reading today, “I will make you a light to the nations, that my salvation may reach to the ends of the earth.”

We hear constant references to the Lamb of God during every Mass; we know that it refers to the role of Jesus as the sacrificial lamb who died on the cross to take away our sins, but to the Jews of Jesus’ day the Lamb of God meant something different.

We think of lambs as being submissive creatures who are easily led about. We even use the term derisively. Don’t be a sheep, don’t follow blindly, think for yourself. Sheep are weak, sheep are docile, sheep are creatures to be used by the strong. But to the Jews, the Lamb of God was someone strong. Their image of the Lamb of God went back to the prophet Isaiah, who prophesized about the coming messiah, the Suffering Servant. “Though he was harshly treated, he submitted and opened not his mouth; Like a lamb led to the slaughter or a sheep before the shearers, he was silent and opened not his mouth.”

To the Jews, the silent strength of the Lamb was to overcome the evil of the world. Even though the Lamb had the ability to overpower the kingdoms of the world he would choose not to. Instead, he would meekly submit to the will of God and his death would be the vehicle used to bring salvation to the world.

Another image the Jews had of the Lamb of God was that of a powerful liberator. During the third century BC, the Jewish liberator Judas Maccabeus, Judas the Hammer, led a rebellion against the Greeks that established the free rule in Judea for over a hundred years. Judas’ symbol was the lamb and he was called the Lamb of God. These two references, in Isaiah and in Maccabees, were to a strong leader who would free Israel from oppression and restore her to her rightful place among the nations. To John’s disciples, the Lamb of God meant the messiah. This lamb is not a docile victim. This lamb is a hammer. This lamb is an active victim.

The role of the lamb was central to Jewish worship and their understanding of their relationship with God. Lambs were used as the primary sacrifice to God in the temple. But not just any lamb. It had to be a pure white lamb, unblemished, with no spot or imperfection, preferably the first born. The lamb had to be given and sacrificed with no reservation; you had to give it willingly and not under duress.

The lamb was slaughtered on the altar of the temple and its blood was collected into bowls, to be sprinkled on the altar and on the people as a sign that their sins were forgiven.  The symbolism of the lamb’s blood was very powerful. The life force of the lamb was in its blood, and when that blood was poured out and sprinkled on the people they shared in its power.

Can you see how John the Evangelist and Jesus’ disciples would view the image of Jesus as the Lamb of God, especially after they had witnessed his passion, death and resurrection? They would look back at Jesus’ life, teachings, and actions and see so many signs pointing to the Lamb of God. Jesus was the first born son, without blemish, perfect, who willingly gave himself up to be sacrificed for the people’s sins on the cross. St. John even places the time of Jesus’ death on the day before the Passover at the hour when all the lambs were slaughtered in the temple. Jesus’ blood was shed on the cross in sight of the temple and sprinkled on all mankind for the forgiveness of sins.

The Lamb entered Christian tradition not bleating but roaring. St. John in the Book of Revelation uses the term in reference to Christ twenty-nine times in twenty-two chapters. We shall speak of Jesus as the Lamb five times in today's Liturgy. See if you can spot each one. Recall the number of canvases, frescoes, stained glass windows, and vestments on which you have seen the Lamb drawn. It is among the most popular symbols in Christendom. 

And the images of shedding blood and baptism are so closely linked in the scriptures and in the life of the church. Jesus himself exclaimed to his disciples when they asked him for positions of honor in the kingdom of heaven, "You don't know what you are asking. Can you drink the cup I drink or be baptized with the baptism I am baptized with?" St. Paul told the Romans, “Don’t you know that when you were baptized you were baptized into his death?” Dying to self and sin is what baptism is all about. Can you see how and why John the Baptist would call Jesus the Lamb of God at the time of his baptism?

Immediately following this passage from John’s gospel is the calling of the first apostles. You could say that John the Baptist was one of the first disciples himself. He himself had been searching for the messiah and had been having a hard time identifying him. When John finally received his sign from heaven that Jesus was the one, the first thing he did was point Jesus out to his own disciples, and told them to follow him instead.

John was a man searching for the messiah and when he found him, he gave him away to others. He was not in it for himself but told his disciples to leave him to follow Jesus. John knew that Jesus had to increase and he had to fade away. As soon as John gave away all his disciples to Jesus he was arrested, imprisoned and then killed. That was John’s role in the plan of salvation, and in a way, it is our role also. We may not be called to suffer as John did, but we too must die to self and give Jesus away to others. As St. Paul said, we must decrease and Christ must increase. And we do this in so many ways in our daily lives.

How many times are you the herald of Jesus to others who are desperately searching for Him?

How many times have you been searching in the wilderness for God and found him only when someone else pointed him out to you?

How many times do you ask for something from God and don’t recognize that your prayers have been answered until someone else points it out to you?

And when you find Jesus, do you hoard him or do you give him away like John did?

Have you found your own personal Jesus and want to keep him to yourself? Jesus is just too big for us to keep all to ourselves.

Can you see Jesus in others, especially in those who suffer?

How many times have you seen someone poor and downtrodden and exclaimed, “Behold the Lamb of God!”

John’s disciples followed Jesus because they trusted John. How many times have people trusted God because of you and your discipleship?

Now we to have seen and testify that He is the Son of God.