The new "normal" after quarantine

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Homily: 5^th Sunday in Lent – Cycle A

“Now a man was ill, Lazaras from Bethany.”  Perhaps we’ve heard this scripture a number of times before, but I’m guessing that, because of our present circumstances, we might hear these words in a new way today.  In this time of heightened anxiety about the severity of illness that the coronavirus can cause, none of us can sit back and hear the words, “Now a man was ill...” and not think of the countless men and women who have fallen ill over these past months; perhaps even more so given that men and women increasingly close to home are also starting to fall ill.  Any of us who have a human heart beating in our chest have, perhaps, become much more sensitive to news of anyone becoming ill.  Maybe today, therefore, as we hear these words, we are even more anxious to hear what good news the Gospel can speak to us; and so, let us see what our Gospel reading speaks to us today.

Martha, Mary, and Lazarus were close friends of Jesus.  The Gospel tells us that “Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus”.  Because of this close friendship, the three of them had come to acknowledge Jesus as the Messiah and they put their faith in his ability to heal even mortal sicknesses.  And so, when Lazarus fell ill, Martha quickly sent word to Jesus, hoping that he’d come to save her brother from this illness. Jesus didn’t come right away, however, and Lazarus died.  In fact, by the time Jesus had arrived, Lazarus had already been in the tomb four days.

Because of this, Martha and Mary both confront Jesus, saying: “If you had been here, my brother would not have died!”  They are hurt because Jesus did not appear to respond as quickly as they, because of their friendship, expected that he would.  Jesus, in spite of already knowing what he was going to do, nonetheless displays the fullness of his humanity when, confronted by the sorrow being experienced by these sisters whom he dearly loved, he himself weeps.  It’s a touching moment that we would do well to consider any time that we experience a loss in our own lives, but especially now when this experience is so tangibly apparent. But let’s imagine for a moment that the story ended there: Jesus weeping while Lazarus remains dead in the grave.  If that were the case, he’d be a great teacher, prophet, consoler, and even, perhaps, friend, but he wouldn’t be God.

Thus, when we hear Jesus tell Martha plainly, “I am the resurrection and the life”, we hear something different.  With these words, Jesus is telling her that it isn’t just his belief that Lazarus will rise, but rather it is his concrete knowledge of who he is and of what he is capable.  Friendship with God, Martha discovers, is not divine protection from pain, suffering, or even death, but rather a guarantee that, in that pain, suffering, and even death, God will be with us.  When Jesus weeps, we see the most touching, but telling evidence that he, indeed, is with us, in the fullness of our humanity. When he calls Lazarus from the grave, however, we see the still greater evidence that not only is Jesus with us—the great teacher, prophet, consoler, and friend—but that Jesus is, indeed, God: and that, in Jesus, God himself is truly with us.

Thus, in Jesus, the words of the prophet Ezekiel have been fulfilled.  When Jesus called Lazarus from the grave, he brought new light to the rebirth foreshadowed in his promise to bring back his chosen people from exile.  Those people thought themselves dead because they had lost the land from which they took their identity. Thus, when the Lord “brought them back to the land of Israel”, they truly felt reborn.  Little did they know, however, that one day God himself would take on human nature and walk among them and would, literally, open the graves of the dead and have the dead rise from them.

Notice that the ancient Israelites were not prevented from experiencing exile because of their friendship with God.  Rather, it was because of their friendship that they were eventually restored to their land and given “new life”.  Notice also, that Lazarus was not prevented from experiencing illness and death, nor were Martha and Mary prevented from experiencing the loss of their dear brother, because of their friendship with Jesus.  Rather, it was because of their friendship that Lazarus was raised and they were all given “new life”.  So it is now, that our friendship with God will be no guarantee that we will not experience sadness, difficulty, or pain.  Rather, our friendship with God is a promise that God will lift us from that sadness, difficulty, or pain, if we remain faithful to our friendship with him.

Friends, this is the message of Lent: that we are dead because of sin, but through Jesus we are raised to new life.  The threat of physical illness, like that caused by the coronavirus, is serious and has raised in us new levels of compassion for others.  I pray that it is also raising in us a new awareness of our need for a savior.  I pray that this time in which we’ve been forced to isolate has helped us to examine our consciences a little more deeply and to become aware of how deeply rooted our sinful inclinations can be.  I pray that we will use this time—even as it extends into Easter—to turn back to the Lord in love, to grow our friendship with him, so that we might be given a “new life” when our social restrictions are lifted.

You know, when Lazarus was raised from the dead, he didn’t come back like a zombie.  Rather, he came back as himself.  I guarantee you, however, that his life never went back to the “normal” it was before he died.  I’m sure that he, and his sisters, began anew and created a new “normal”... a better one... one that united them more deeply to each other and to Christ and in which they worked to build the kingdom of God.  Friends, may the externally imposed penances that we are experiencing this Lent lead us to greater conversion, so that the new “normal” that we create after coronavirus restrictions are lifted—anchored, as it surely will be, in the Eucharist—lead us to do as Martha, Mary, and Lazarus did: uniting ourselves more deeply to Christ and to each other and dedicating ourselves to proclaim the Risen Christ and to build his kingdom until he comes again in glory.

Given at Saint Mary’s Cathedral: Lafayette, IN – March 29^th, 2020

Don't give up on Lent!

4^th Sunday of Lent – Cycle A

Friends, we all know that Lent is a time of penance and preparation.  Hopefully, we all know that the penance part has a purpose: that is, for preparation.  Preparation to celebrate the great solemnity commemorating the Resurrection of our Lord (otherwise known as Easter) and for us to meet our Lord when he either calls us home to himself or returns to usher in the “end of the ages”.  To that end, one of the things that we do during this time is to take a hard look at our lives to identify in what ways we are still in need of conversion: that is, of turning back to the Lord.  Then, having identified those ways, we set ourselves to that work of conversion.

I think, however, that it is safe to say that there are only a handful of us who are truly heroic in embracing this work: that is, persons who let nothing get in the way of doing this work of conversion.  Most of us are rather weak-willed (“stiff-necked” is how the Bible often describes us) and so it is hard for us to be both self-convicting and energetic in conversion.  We are either very hard on ourselves, but then do very little to produce change, or we are soft on ourselves, but very energetic trying to stamp out a little fault (all the while ignoring some larger, more serious faults).

This year, however, God is challenging us to something more.  The coronavirus pandemic has upended our lives and is forcing us to confront ourselves in ways that, for many of us, may be—to put it lightly—uncomfortable.  Let me say clearly that I don’t believe that God is allowing this pandemic because he wants anyone to be hurt.  But he has allowed it and, if he has allowed it, he must be allowing it so that good could come from it.  I can see two goods right off the bat: a sense of solidarity with those who are suffering and with those who are on the front lines of battling this pandemic and, as I have already mentioned, to provide us with an opportunity to look more sharply at ourselves and to see our ongoing need for conversion, both as individuals and as a society.  Nevertheless, the question still holds, “Why is this happening?”, and our Gospel reading gives us light into the answer.

There, Jesus and his disciples encounter a man who was born blind.  The detail here is important.  The man was born blind: he didn’t become blind at some point, but rather he had always been blind.  Nonetheless, the prevailing thought of the time was that any deformity (like blindness) was a punishment due to sin, either the individual’s sin or the sin of his parents, that was being inflicted on him.  And so, when Jesus and his disciples encounter this “man born blind”, Jesus’ disciples ask him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?”  Jesus answers with an enigmatic answer, saying that this isn’t because of sin, but rather so that God’s glory and power can be made manifest.  It’s a reminder that we are not often directly punished for our sins or another’s sins, but rather often suffer because of an indirect effect of sin being in the world.  Even still, Jesus is reminding us, this suffering is intended to be an opportunity to manifest God’s glory and power.

In this case, the man born blind is given sight and, thus, led to recognize Jesus as the Christ.  His blindness from birth humbled him and made it so that he could see the truth in the reality of things.  Thus, when he was cured, he did not look to explain it away, but rather marveled at what had happened and held in great esteem the one through whom it was made possible.  The Pharisees, on the other hand, who had never had a problem with physical sight, were, nonetheless, unable to recognize the truth that was manifest in front of them.  Thus, the man born blind could recognize Jesus as the Christ, while the Pharisees, worried as they were to protect the way they had constructed things, could not recognize Jesus as the Christ and so fought to explain away what he had done.

Friends, as I said at the beginning, this time has been given to us so as to guide us into the light of Christ.  We need to be open to seeing the ways in which we are still in need of conversion: that is, the ways in which we still cling to our own ideas of how things should be.  We need to look at the reality of things and respond to them, like the man born blind did: “If he is a sinner, I don’t know.  One thing I do know is that I was blind and now I see.”  There’s no speculation there.  Just a clear vision of the reality of things that provides him with a way to respond.  We, too, need to allow the reality of things to point us to the one in whom all reality finds its end: Jesus Christ.  And we need to rejoice that, through the grace of baptism, we have been united to him; and, thus, to rejoice that it is possible to find our end in him.

Friends, I’ve said to a few others already, that I can see one of two ends to this crisis: First, that we will one day in the relatively near future return to our churches for Mass and the sacraments; or second, (and I don’t mean this flippantly) that the virus will wipe us all out.  My opinion, looking at the reality of things, is that the latter is not at all likely.  So, let's use this time courageously to seek the reality of things—especially our need for ongoing conversion—and, seeing the Lord with eyes made new, let us worship him and build his kingdom here on earth.

Given at Saint Mary’s Cathedral: Lafayette, IN – March 21^st and 22^nd, 2020

Trust in God in times of distress

Homily: 3^rd Sunday in Lent – Cycle A

It’s news to no one here that the “novel coronavirus” has upended our lives and is causing great deals of distress.  Distress about individual health, anxiety about the uncertainty of how this virus will spread and if we’ll be able to contain it.  Distress about how to deal with the “novel” situations of having kids home from school for an extended period of time, of providing care for them, of providing food for them, and of facing any financial insecurity because we either must take time off of work or spend unbudgeted money on caregivers.  Distress, finally, (and possibly especially) about whether or not our healthcare system is equipped to respond to widespread exposure.  The number of you who are NOT here today is a sign that this distress is affecting all of us.

This distress is not unlike the distress that the Israelites were experiencing as they began their journey in the desert after being liberated from Egypt.  After having emerged triumphantly from the Red Sea, they set out towards the land that God had promised to give them (the Promised Land, in which they would live free from slavery).  A couple of days into that journey, however, (led, as they were by the cloud in the day and fire by night), having seen no water and with no signs of any ahead, they all begin to experience distress.  Insecurity always gives birth to anxiety and being without something as necessary as water for more than a day is certain to heighten one’s sense of insecurity.  It’s no surprise, then, that these folks begin to cry out to Moses, God’s point man leading them on this journey.

This journey was not only practical, however, but rather catechetical also.  The practical was to get them out of Egypt and into a land in which they could live as a free society.  In the absence of trains, buses, or planes, a journey on foot was necessary.  The catechetical, however, was to teach them complete reliance on God and his providential care for them.  In other words, the catechetical journey was to increase and solidify their trust in God alone.  Thus, the way that they followed from the Red Sea was a way on which there was no water.  God, through Moses, then provided them water in a miraculous way, just as he had already provided them with food in the form of manna and quail.  Through this, God shows himself worthy of their faith.  They were in distress, the called out to God, and God responded.

The Samaritan woman whom Jesus encounters at the well is also someone who learns to put her faith in God, but in a different manner.  She was not necessarily looking for help, but the details of this story indicate that she was certainly in distress.  She came to the well at midday: the time when, because of the midday heat, no one else went to the well.  In other words, she was avoiding others.  She encounters Jesus there and he reveals his knowledge of her and her life.  She has had five husbands and is living with someone to whom she isn’t married.  Women couldn’t live on their own at that time and if a woman was married and divorced, she couldn’t return to her father’s house and so would either have to marry again or would end up destitute.  We can’t know for sure, but it seems like this woman may have struggled to be in a stable marriage, but continued to seek it out so that she wouldn’t become destitute.  She certainly would have been looked down upon in that society and so she worked to avoid contact with others.

This day, however, she encounters Jesus, who peers into her soul and speaks to her in a way that opens her eyes and lets her see that relief from this distress is possible.  In other words, he helps her to see that there is hope for her on this journey, that the promises of the God of the Israelites could be fulfilled, and that even the Samaritans—even she, herself—could receive their benefits.  Her life was out of order, but her encounter with Jesus gave her supernatural hope that God was leading even her to freedom from this distress.  Her response was to go off and tell of what she learned to all of the people in the village.  Let that sink in for a moment: before her encounter with Jesus, she wanted to avoid all contact with the people of her village.  Now, she goes to them to share what she learned.  This is a person who has found hope and who has placed her trust in God and in his promises.

Our newly Elect, who will now intensely prepare for baptism at the Easter Vigil, are on this same journey.  Over these next three weekends, they will be called to encounter Jesus through what is called the rite of scrutiny, in which they will be challenged to see their lives, disordered as they have been by sin, and encounter the hope that, through Jesus, they can be set free from this disorder and receive all of the blessings that God has promised to those who are united to him.  Having encountered this hope, they will be exhorted to put their faith in God and to follow the path to holiness that has been laid out by Jesus.

This, of course, is not only their Lenten journey, but each of ours as well.  Every year, each of us is challenged to recognize the distress under which the world places us (this year, it is particularly apparent) and to allow ourselves to encounter our Lord, who names our distress and provides an answer to it.  This, for sure, is not always relief.  Rather, it is often a challenge to trust and to order our lives to more closely follow him.  In other words, it is the challenge to respond in faith to the distress of our lives.  One of the ways that we do that is through our intentional engagement of our increased giving program.

Last weekend, we heard from parishioners who have all had this experience of distress and have responded to it with faith and so have grown in trust of God.  Part of their experience was finding support and resources through the many ministries and programs that we at Saint Mary’s provide: ministries and programs made possible by your generous financial support.  Today, I am asking you to continue to put your faith in the fact that God is responding to the needs and distresses of peoples’ lives through the ministries and programs of Saint Mary’s by continuing and even increasing your financial support for our parish.

You know, all of us are on a journey through the desert and at different times and for different reasons we may each find ourselves in distress.  Your ongoing financial support of the ministries and programs at Saint Mary’s means that we’ll be able to respond and to help assure you in your trust in God who, like he did with Moses for the Israelites, works through us to relieve our distresses.

I hope that you brought your commitment cards with you today.  As I mentioned before Mass began, we WON’T be passing around the collection basket as a precaution against spreading germs.  If you’ve already dropped your commitment card in the box by the entrance, great.  Thank you for doing that.  Please hold in your heart your commitment as your offering to be united to the sacrifice of Jesus here at the altar.  If you still have your commitment card with you, I encourage you to keep it close to you during the Eucharistic Prayer as a reminder to unite your commitment to the sacrifice of Christ on the altar.  You may drop the card in the box near the entrance on your way out today.  If you did not bring your card, but would like to complete one today, please feel free to use one of the blank cards in your pew and do the same.  In other words, however you brought your commitment with you today, please make an intentional effort to unite it to the sacrifice of Christ that we will offer here at the altar.

As I said earlier, this “novel coronavirus” has upended our lives and caused a great deal of distress.  Very quickly, however, I saw signs that God is working among us to relieve it.  On Friday afternoon, I received an e-mail from our “Saint Mary’s Cares” ministry coordinator asking if it was okay for them to contact other parishes to formulate a plan to assist anyone, like our homebound parishioners, get groceries, prepare meals, etc. so that no one feels alone or abandoned during this time.  I’m grateful for their dedication and for the support of all of you that helps make their ministry possible.  Thank you, again, for your courageous commitments.  May they lead us to trust God even more as he leads us to our reward in heaven: the reward foreshadowed by the Passion, Death, and Resurrection of our Lord, Jesus Christ.

Given at Saint Mary’s Cathedral: Lafayette, IN – March 14^th & 15^th, 2020

Letting Go

Homily: 2^nd Sunday of Lent – Cycle A

          One of my favorite preachers is Father Larry Richards and in one of his most well-known talks he tells the story of a man from Crete, which is one of the islands of Greece.  This man, he says, was a great man and he loved his land.  Not only did he love his land, but all the people of his land loved him.  Whenever somebody died, he was always the first person to come and offer condolences.  Whenever a new baby was born, he was always the first person to come and offer congratulations.  And all of this because he so deeply loved his land and his people.

          Finally, when he was ninety-nine years old, it was time for him to die.  Surrounded by his ten children, he asked them to carry him out to the secluded spot in the back of his farm, which was his favorite spot to pray, and to lay him down on the earth.  There, as he closed his eyes for the last time, he clenched in his hands the dirt of the land he so dearly loved and he died.

          He awoke to find himself standing at the gates of heaven and when God came forth to welcome him in, he first asked the man what it was that he had in his hands.  “This is Crete,” he said, “it is all that I ever loved in the world.”  God looked at him and said, “Sorry, no dirty hands in heaven.”  Upset by this, but unable to let go of the one thing he held so dear in his life, the man turned away and God went back into heaven and closed the gate behind him.

          As the story goes, God would return two more times to implore the man to let go of the remnant of his beloved land so as to enter into heaven.  At the first, the man still refused to let go.  But at the second, the man found that the dirt in his hands had become so dry that it was now slipping uncontrollably out of his hands.  So, at God’s prompting, he opened his hands and just then the Spirit of God blew forth a strong wind that swept away every last remnant of the man’s beloved land.  Then, taking the man’s hand, God led him through the gates of heaven.  And when the man entered heaven what do you think that it was that he saw, but the land of Crete laid out completely before him.

          I share this story with you today because it is a great story and a great reminder that God never takes anything away from us, but rather only asks us to let go of some things so that he can give us more.  I also share it with you because I think it demonstrates for us just how short-sighted our vision can be at times.  This man thought that he had everything that he had ever wanted in the land of Crete and thus he let the vision of his life become limited to the years that he spent on earth.  He couldn’t imagine heaven being anything better than what he enjoyed on earth and so he tried to take his greatest joy on earth with him into heaven.  He had lost the vision that God promised to give him the “fullness of joy” in heaven and so stubbornly clung to the passing joy of the earth until it finally (and literally) passed out of his hands.

          In a way, this is the same lesson that Jesus is giving to his disciples Peter, James, and John in our Gospel reading today when he invites them up onto a high mountain to reveal to them the fullness of his nature.  Now, when the Scriptures speak of going up onto a “high mountain” they are always referring to the place where man encounters God.  There, Jesus reveals the fullness of his nature—the divine nature that coexists with his human nature—in order to point to the transcendent end of his being on earth (that is, to the fact that his coming in this world wasn’t meant for this world alone, but rather to re-open the possibility for man to enter the glory of God in the next world).  The disciples, however, are slow to see the meaning behind this and focus, rather, on clinging to the event in this world.

          “Well, this is nice,” Peter said, “why don’t we build some tents and stay here?”  Jesus, however, intended for this to be a lesson that would extend their vision beyond an earthly end and towards the end that he came to establish: that is, the return of man to perfect communion with God.  Thus, the cloud (which, in biblical terms, always indicates the presence of God) descends upon them and overshadows them, and the voice from the cloud speaks to them, and it is then that they realize that something otherworldly is happening to them and they fall down in reverence and in fear of the absolute power that has overshadowed them.  Thus, we see that Jesus didn’t take them up on that mountain to have a “nice” experience or to show off his divine nature to them (good as that was!), but rather to have an experience of the absolute holiness that he possessed and that he was calling them to enter into.

          I think that if we look at our own lives that we, too, will find that our vision of what we are here for has become somewhat limited.  If I asked you what you thought is the prevailing moral norm that governs our society, many of you might say “To love your neighbor as yourself”: and that’s good!  But if I asked you to tell me what that means in real life, I suspect that the answer many of you might give would be “To be nice and try to get along with everyone.”  Well, this is fine if all that you are concerned with is trying to have a peaceful life here on earth.  If, however, we are placing our vision on our eternal end in heaven, then we need to take just as seriously Jesus’ other, very strong moral mandate: “Be yourselves holy just as your Father in heaven is holy!”  This goes beyond being “nice” and sometimes means that we will have to act rather harshly with others.  It reminds us that while harmony in this world is a goal, it isn’t our end.  Our end, rather, is the vision of Jesus’ glory and being overshadowed by the presence of God!

          My brothers and sisters, Jesus did not say “just be good and nice to each other and you’ll be fine.”  Rather, he said “Seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness and all the rest will be given to you.”  And what is God’s righteousness?  Well, nothing short of the absolute holiness that he revealed to Peter, James, and John on the high mountain that day!  Don’t just be nice, then, but be holy!  And what does that mean?  Well, it means overshadowing the world with God’s presence: with his uncompromising love for each and every one of his creatures, most especially our brothers and sisters who live among us.

          Friends, this time of Lent is a time for rediscovering this incredible gift that God has given us in restoring our humanity to full glory in Jesus; and for reconciling ourselves with, and re-conforming ourselves to, that truth so that we might overshadow the world with God’s love and one day enjoy the Easter glory of Jesus in heaven; the glory that we encounter in sacrament here in this Eucharist.

Given at Saint Mary’s Cathedral: Lafayette, IN – March 7^th & 8^th, 2020

Pop quiz for the 1st Sunday of Lent

[My format looks weird today because of the way that this homily was set up and presented.  It just worked better this way.  Sorry if it is hard to read in this format!]

Homily: 1^st Sunday in Lent – Cycle A

          Okay, friends, today, on this first Sunday of Lent, we are going to shake things up a bit and start off with a little pop quiz based on the readings we’ve just heard.  Don’t worry about it, though, because you’re going to know most of the answers and there are no grades.  Ready or not, here we go!

•         Is humankind responsible for the presence of suffering and death in the world, yes or no?  [YES]

o   Even though it wasn’t included in the reading today, we all know “the rest of the story”, that Adam and Eve were punished and expelled from the garden so that they couldn’t eat from the tree of life and, thus, would have to suffer death.

•         Has humankind been able to eliminate suffering and death from the world, now that they are present in it, yes or no?  [NO]

o   Just look around.  Suffering and death are still very present here.

•         Is there any reasonable hope that humankind will ever eliminate suffering and death from the world, yes or no?  [NO]

o   Suffering and death have been part of the human condition for as long as history has been recording it.

•         Who is the only human being that ever existed who died, but then raised himself back to life?  [JESUS]
•         Is it reasonable to expect that this could be possible for any human being ever, yes or no?  [NO]

o   Again, human beings have been around for 200,000 years and we ain't figured it out yet!

o   Why then do we stubbornly act like we will?  DON'T ANSWER THAT!

•         If this Jesus has done something that no human being has ever been capable of doing nor will ever be capable of doing, then he must have super-natural powers (that is, powers beyond natural powers), true or false?  [TRUE]
•         Since this Jesus has done something that no other human being has ever been capable of doing, something that we cannot reasonably expect any present or future human being as being capable of doing, is it, therefore, reasonable to think that this Jesus could also do the other thing that humankind has been incapable of doing: that is, is it reasonable to think that Jesus could also eliminate suffering and death from the world, yes or no?  [YES]

o   It is reasonable to think that because we don’t know the limit of his powers.

•         Has this Jesus revealed the secret to unlocking resurrection (that is, the secret for overcoming suffering and death) for each and every one of us, yes or no?  [YES]
•         What is that secret (hint: it’s in the Gospel reading today)?  [OBEDIENCE TO THE WILL OF THE FATHER.]

o   Saint Paul said it in his letter to the Romans:

o   “For just as through the disobedience of one man the many were made sinners, so, through the obedience of the one, the many will be made righteous.”

§  The one who was disobedient was Adam and we were reminded of that in our first reading today.

·        Eve said, “We may eat of the fruit of the trees in the garden; it is only about the fruit of the tree in the middle of the garden that God said, ‘You shall not eat it or even touch it, lest you die.’”

·        They ate it, in clear disobedience of God, and suffering and death entered the world.

§  The one who was obedient was Jesus and we were reminded of his first great act of obedience in our Gospel reading today.

·        Satan said to him, “If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down… Jesus answered him, …'You shall not put the Lord, your God, to the test.’”

·        Jesus countered Adam and Eve’s disobedience by his perfect obedience.

·        His final and culminating act of obedience was his passion and death.

•         Friends, this is what Lent is about: returning to the garden through obedience.

o   If our Lenten practices are not freeing us to give our obedience more fully to the Father, then we should stop them and choose practices that will!

o   The first practice, of course, is giving up sin!

§  None of us should be giving up chocolate unless we have first decided to do the work of giving up sin!!!

o   Once we’ve done that, however, we take on physical discomfort (that is, giving up something good that we enjoy or taking up a good task that, perhaps, we don’t enjoy), so as to do two things: a) to show God that we are truly sorry for our sins, and b) to face our spiritual discomfort that God is calling us to still greater holiness (...a call, by the way, that never ceases!)

§  I think that we get “a)” no problem, but how many of us have ever really faced “b)”?

§  Not sure what I mean?  Let me give you an example. 

            Last Friday afternoon, I was working in my office and I had an e-mail that I had to write that was important and complicated to compose.  I was tired and really didn’t want to do it.  So there I am, staring at my computer screen, not wanting to do the thing that I knew I needed to do, and so what did I do?  Well, I opened up a new tab on my browser and hovered over the Facebook link.  Before I clicked on it, however, I remembered that I decided to fast from social media on Fridays during Lent and so I stopped myself and went back to my e-mail.  Soon, though, I was in a new tab hovering over the Facebook link again.  Once again, though, my commitment to what I was giving up one over and I went back to my e-mail.  Finally, I dug in and wrote the e-mail.  The point being that, if I hadn’t chosen to give up a physical comfort (checking out what was going on with my friends on Facebook), then I wouldn’t have confronted my spiritual discomfort (completing the work that I had been given to do).  Fasting from social media, therefore, showed both that I was sorry for my sins and made it so that I could confront this spiritual battle.

o   We have to give up sin, of course, but then we should give up (or take up) something good, both to show God that we are truly sorry for our sins and to face our spiritual discomfort that God is calling us to greater holiness and so put ourselves to work to do it!

§  THIS, in a nutshell, IS OBEDIENCE!!!

§  Obedience, Jesus has shown us, leads to resurrection and eternal life.

          Okay, a couple of more questions a then we’ll call it a day.

•         Is Jesus still alive, yes or no?  [YES]
•         Will we meet him, face-to-face, one day, yes or no?  [YES]
•         What, then, should we do during Lent?

o   A question you must answer yourself.

o   Whatever your answer is, it should be something that leads you to deeper obedience to the will of the Father so that, when Easter comes, you’ll be ready to die with Christ and so rise with him again.

Given at Saint Mary’s Cathedral: Lafayette, IN – March 1^st, 2020

Come, be filled with the joy of the resurrection!

Homily: Easter Sunday – Cycle C

Halleluiah, we made it!  After forty days of prayer, fasting and almsgiving, here we are on Easter Sunday.  What a joy it is to be here with all of you: my still new family in Christ.  Like any good engineer, however, I’m never content just to arrive at my destination.  Rather, there’s always a little part of me that wants to look back at where I’ve been and how I arrived here in order to see if I accomplished all that I had set out to accomplish.  I think that it is a valuable thing for us to do on Easter Sunday: kind of like looking over photos from a trip as soon as you get home so that you don’t quickly forget the experiences you had.

To begin, let’s go back to Ash Wednesday, all the way back on March 6^th.  There we heard Christ call us to repent from our sins and to believe in the Gospel and I encouraged you to look hard at what your Lenten fasts would be to ensure that they produced more than just forty days of punishment, but that they would also produce in you a sense of detachment.

Then, on the first Sunday of Lent, we recounted how Christ modeled for us what our forty days of fasting should produce in us.  He spent forty days in the desert, fasting and praying; and the Scriptures tell us that when he emerged from the desert, he was hungry (Duh!).  What Jesus realized during that time of fasting and prayer was that it wasn’t food or other worldly things that he wanted, but rather it was communion with God towards which all of his desires were pointing.  Therefore, when the devil tempted him to change rocks into bread, to worship him so he could have dominion over the kingdoms of the world, and to put God to the test by throwing himself off of the parapet, Jesus could resist him.  His fasting had led him to detachment from any desire for these worldly things.

A couple of weeks later, if you were with us for the celebration of the scrutinies, we heard about the Samaritan woman whom Jesus meets at the well.  Poor woman was just trying to get to the well and get home without running into anybody, but there was Jesus ready to flip her world upside down.  Jesus innocently asks for a cup of water, but when the woman questions him about asking a Samaritan for something, Jesus reveals to her the real reason why he is there: he tells her that if she knew who she was talking to that she would be asking him for water, because the water he would give would never leave her thirsty again.  What Jesus was revealing to her was that what she was really looking for couldn’t be found in husbands or in a well, but that it was sitting there right in front of her: that what she really thirsted for was to know God and that this knowledge alone would satisfy her thirst.

While I could go on picking out other examples from our Scripture readings from these past seven weeks, I won’t.  Hopefully, however, for these last forty days, this has been the work that we have been doing: removing the “old yeast” of malice and wickedness, as Saint Paul describes it today, so that we can celebrate this feast with the “unleavened bread” of sincerity and truth.  Hopefully, by our fasting and almsgiving we’ve been detaching ourselves from the things of this world: things that only provide a temporary satisfaction.  And hopefully through our prayer—which is where we meet God like that woman did at the well—Jesus has been showing us what it is that we are truly thirsting for.  And so, hopefully, you find yourself today like Jesus did when he emerged from the desert and like the woman did when she encountered him at the well: hungry and thirsty for what truly satisfies.

If you’ve done your work well, then you probably feel a sense of freedom from whatever it is that you gave up.  Thus, you won’t be easily tempted to go back to it now that Lent is finished.  If, however, you haven’t done this work so well, then you’re probably looking forward to getting out of this Mass as quickly as you can so that you can indulge again in whatever it was that you sacrificed for the last forty days.  Either way, I can tell you that the hunger that all of us are feeling today—the hunger that we are left with after forty days of fasting—is not a hunger for worldly things (although it may feel that way); rather, it is a hunger for God.

Saint Augustine famously wrote: “Our hearts are restless, O Lord, until they rest in you.”  I think that he could have just as easily said the same thing if he would have said: “We are always hungry, O Lord, until our hungers are satisfied in you.”  And so, whether you have used this time of Lent well or poorly (or not at all), I can tell you that whatever hunger you feel inside of you today is truly a hunger for God and only communion with him will truly satisfy it.

Now, I’m enough of a realist to realize that some of us here see this and some of us don’t.  Those who see it are here today rejoicing with full hearts and full voice that God has not left us alone to die in our sin, but rather that through the resurrection of his Son he has redeemed us so that our hungers can be satisfied.  Maybe, however, that’s only a few of us.  Perhaps, though, many of us have gotten a glimpse of this during Lent and so come here today with great hope that something new is happening in our lives that can move us towards finding meaning and purpose in all that we do.  Yet I am sure that there are still some of us here who just don’t see it at all.  And you know what?  That’s ok.  Because we are all here today, just like Jesus’ disciples were all together on the first Easter.  And we are all hearing the same news—the joyful, compelling, and confounding news: He is risen!

And so regardless of where you find yourself today, the Good News is that He is risen and for the next fifty days we will be feasting on the joy of this day, and everyone is welcome to join in this feast from wherever it is that you are at.  This feast is truly the foretaste of heaven: for it is the joy that on this day nearly two-thousand years ago Jesus the Christ of God rose from the dead and conquered sin and death forever, restoring our communion with God and making it so that we can all truly live in harmony and peace.

My brothers and sisters, if you have been waiting for your invitation to join into this feast, then here it is.  Whatever it is that compelled you to be here today, know that God wanted you to be here and that he invites you to experience the richness of this banquet that he has prepared for you—for all of us—from before time began.  He knows that each and every one of us is hungry and he longs to satisfy that hunger.   Therefore, lift up your hearts to experience the satisfaction that only he can give: the union of love that he offers us here in this Eucharist.

Given at Saint Mary’s Cathedral: Lafayette, IN – April 21^st, 2019

Getting past our past

          Last weekend was a "Deacon Sunday" in which our Permanent Deacons preached the Masses.  Therefore, no homily for the 4th Sunday of Lent.

Homily: 5^th Sunday in Lent – Cycle C

          Human memory is a marvelous thing.  I mean “marvelous” in the true sense: that it is a thing of marvel.  In ways that we only partially understand, it can bring us back to moments from the past and make them seem fresh and new again.  This, of course, cuts both ways.  This power of memory is a good thing when it brings back moments that were positive.  It is a bad thing, however, when it brings back moments that were negative and hurtful.  In regards to this, though, memory is truly neutral: it stores both the positive and the negative without prejudice to them being good or bad.  Interesting, then, that our Scriptures today all seem to point towards us moving past the past: that is, moving past our memory.

          In the first reading, we heard God imploring the people to forget what had happened to them in the past and to look, rather, towards the new thing that he is doing.  We remember (no pun intended) that Isaiah was a prophet during the Babylonian Exile.  The Israelites, therefore, remembered how their sinfulness led to them being abandoned by God into the power of the Babylonians.  God, however, had seen their subjugation and was ready to lead them back out to their home land.  Therefore, he gives them this message: do not think to what was before, but rather pay attention to what I am doing now and see that I am ready lead you out into a new life.  In other words, “Get ready to move ‘past your past’ into a new future that I’m preparing.”

          In the second reading, Paul, writing to the Christians in Philippi, speaks of forgetting what “lies behind” (that is, his former way of life) so that he can turn towards what “lies ahead” (namely, his new life in Christ).  So much so that he says that he considers everything of his former way of life as “loss” for the sake of knowing the salvation of Jesus Christ. In other words, he has decided to “move past his past” in order to enjoy new life in Christ.

          In the Gospel, among other important things that Jesus does in this story, Jesus tells the woman to forget her past and to go forward in her life, without sin.  This woman was caught in adultery and had her shame confounded by being made a public spectacle, solely for the purpose of trying to catch Jesus in a trap.  (And I won’t even bring up how unjust it was that the woman was shamed for adultery, not the man.)  Jesus, however, (after he shames the scribes and Pharisees) shows her that he doesn’t want her to focus on her past—even her immediate past—but rather that he wants her to move “past her past” and towards a future without sin.

          If you haven’t noticed, Lent and confession call us to do the same; and here’s what I mean.  You see, in the first part of Lent, we are challenged to examine ourselves and to acknowledge our failings.  In other words, we’re challenged to look back and to remember our past so as to recognize our sins so that we might repent from them.  Now, in this, the “home stretch” of Lent, we are challenged to look towards Christ and to look, therefore, towards the things that lie ahead.  In other words, as we have recognized our sins of the past and have turned away from them, we are called to forget about our sin—that is, to move “past our past”—and turn ourselves firmly towards the good work that God has given to us.

          Confession, in this light, is really just Lent in miniature.  In order to prepare, we must first look at our past and identify the ways in which we’ve turned from God.  Then, we place these things before God in the sacrament and we ask for his forgiveness.  Once we receive it, we are sent forth to focus again on the work that God has given to us.  In other words, we’re called to move “past our past” into the future to which God has called us.

          Friends, this is super-important to say, because focusing too much on the past—especially our past sins—is to continue to be enslaved by it.  Too often people come to confession and say “I just feel so guilty for my past sins”.  When they do, I often highlight two things: First, that this means that they haven’t forgiven themselves for their sin.  I tell them that, since God is the only one who can condemn them for their sin, to continue to condemn themselves for their sin is, frankly, silly!  Second, I tell them that, to continue to feel guilty for their sin—and, therefore, to dwell on their past sins—is still to be enslaved by them.  If they had already confessed their sin, God has forgiven them and set them free.  Nonetheless, they voluntarily return to being enslaved by them because they can’t let go of the guilt that they feel.  I then remind them that God is only concerned about their past in as much as they have acknowledged their sin and have turned away from it.  Once that occurs, God is only concerned with where they are today and with where they are going in the future.  God is “eternally present”: so the past isn’t “past” to him and the future isn’t “future” to him; rather, all of it is (somehow) right now.  Thus, if someone is living in the past, he/she cannot find God, who is here, now, in the present.

          This is the story of the woman caught in adultery.  She was caught in her sin and condemned before God (that is, Jesus).  Presumably, Jesus could see the sorrow in her heart for her sin and so decided to show her mercy.  Thus, after shaming the scribes and Pharisees to turn away from their pride-filled, murderous rage, he turns to her, sets her free, and charges her not to return to her past, but rather to go forward in a new way when he said, “Go, and from now on do not sin any more”.

          Friends, these last two weeks of Lent must be about making our definitive break from our past sinfulness in order to focus on that which lies ahead.  Otherwise, Easter will pass and we’ll have no great memories to show for it.  A great way to do this will be to spend a lot of time meditating on the Lord’s passion.  I adjure you to take time to think about who Jesus is and about what he suffered because of our sins (yes, yours and mine, right here in 2019).  If you need help, go to the book rack in the gathering space and look for a book that can help you.  Or, if you’re on Formed.org, look for “Three Days that Changed the World”, a talk by Fr. Hector Perez, or some of the other talks available in that online library.  Then, having reflected on his passion, think about being united to him: united in his suffering, yes, but also in his resurrection.  In this, you will begin to see that the things of this world will need to be left behind so that you can focus on this thing—that is, being united to Christ in his resurrection—which lies ahead.

          Finally, make a good confession, if you haven’t already done so, and turn to Our Lady and allow her to lead you by her motherly care.  Friends, this is everything!  And so, please don’t ignore this time.  I promise that you will find great peace in your life if you can learn to leave your past in the past and focus on what lies ahead: which is the glorious life of the resurrected Christ; the life which is foreshadowed here in this Eucharist we celebrate today.

Given at Saint Mary’s Cathedral: Lafayette, IN – April 6^th & 7^th, 2019