Letting Holy Week interrupt you

Homily: Passion Sunday (Palm Sunday) – Cycle C

In April of 2015 I had the blessed opportunity to make a pilgrimage to the Holy Land.  It was an opportunity for me to give thanks to God for the abundant blessings that had come to me throughout the first three years of my priesthood and especially for the gift of healing from cancer that I had received five years earlier.  For me, it was a personal pilgrimage, so I didn’t lead a group, but rather tagged onto a group that was already traveling so I could truly experience the Holy Land as a pilgrim.

Of the numerous biblical sites that we visited, one of the more powerful was walking the “Via Dolorosa” or the “Way of Sorrows”, more commonly known to us as the “Way of the Cross”.  There, in the heart of the old city of Jerusalem, is preserved the 14 stations of Jesus’ passion so that pilgrims can walk the “way” that Jesus walked to his crucifixion, death, and burial.  In fact, the “stations of the cross” that are common in nearly every Catholic church and chapel today are there because of these stations that had been preserved in Jerusalem for pilgrims.

Once the Moslem Turks had taken possession of the Holy Land, pilgrims were not allowed to follow the stations and so, eventually, in the 17^th century, Pope Innocent IX allowed stations to be erected in religious houses outside of the Holy Land and he attached the same indulgence to following them as he did to making the pilgrimage in the Jerusalem.  Then, in the 18^th century, Pope Benedict XIII extended that indulgence to all the faithful and his successor, Benedict the XIV, instructed pastors to erect stations in every church, where possible, so that this devotion could spread widely.  All those details aside, however, you can probably imagine that it was truly something special to walk the original stations in Jerusalem.

We began our prayer at the praetorium, where Jesus stood before Pilate and was sentenced to death.  We celebrated Mass there in a church erected just beside the location where the “trial” of Jesus took place.  Then we set off on our journey, down the streets of Old Jerusalem, to the hill of Calvary.  What immediately struck me was that, while we were walking down these streets, piously trying to pray and meditate on our Lord’s passion, people were going about their daily business.  In fact, many vendors were calling out to us trying to sell us souvenirs along the way.  At first, I was put off by it; but then I saw a connection.

You see, when Jesus was condemned to death, it was on the Friday afternoon before the Passover (which began at sundown).  In Jerusalem there would have been thousands of people bustling around preparing to celebrate the feast.  Some of these folks probably had no idea who Jesus was or why he was being condemned.  Some, perhaps, had heard the “hosannas” during his entrance but thought, “Here’s another ‘flash in the pan’, purporting to be ‘king’”.  Thus, as Jesus walked along the streets, carrying his cross, many probably shook their heads and sighed in resignation then went back to whatever it was that they were doing.  Perhaps there were even vendors who had some certain wares that they tried to get “execution gapers” to buy as these processions took place.  Regardless, it’s clear that Jesus’ conviction and execution didn’t cause the world around him to stop, even though its fulfillment would change the world.

Thus, Holy Week challenges us.  Unless you’re a priest or work for the Catholic Church, your week this week probably isn’t going to revolve around the coming Passion of Christ.  Nevertheless, this week must somehow be different for us.  We each have to be intentional about breaking our routine to notice and enter into the events leading up to the mysteries that we celebrate at the end of this week: the Last Supper, the Passion and Death of Christ, the silence of the tomb, and, of course, the Resurrection.  Perhaps you can take time to read through the Gospel passages for each day’s Mass this week (found on usccb.org and other websites) or to stop and make a visit to the Blessed Sacrament each day (all of our churches are open throughout the day for you to make a visit).  Whatever you may choose, choose something that, while you go through the routine things that your week demands of you, will cause you to step back and notice the thing that is happening: the great mysteries of our salvation that are being re-presented to us.  My friends, if you can do this this week, you’ll have finished Lent well; and the joy of Easter—the joy of feeling resurrected with Christ—will be yours.

Given at Saint Mary’s Cathedral: Lafayette, IN – April 14^th, 2019

It's not a tragedy, it's a triumph

          You really should read the Passion Narrative according to Mark before hearing this brief homily.  More than normal weeks, it depends on hearing/reading it.  Go here to read the readings for the Mass.  In the column to the right, click on "Daily Readings - Audio" and find this Sunday's date to hear the readings read aloud.

Homily: Palm Sunday of the Passion of the Lord – Cycle B

          You know, it can be pretty hard for us to imagine what it was like to be a first century Jew.  Here was a people who, ever since the Babylonian exile, were awaiting a new Davidic king—a king who would sit on the throne of King David—and would restore completely the covenant with Yahweh.  The sign for that restoration would be the when the shekinah—that is, the glory of the Lord (meaning, God’s presence among them)—would once again appear in the Temple.  For hundreds of years they waited: many of them wondering if God had forgotten them, altogether.

          Imagine what it is like when your spouse, your child, your parents (if you are younger), or your best friend is away for an extended period of time.  Imagine also that you can’t call, text, or video chat with them.  Imagine what the waiting would feel like.  Take that longing that you would feel for their return and multiply it exponentially and you’ll begin to understand what those first century Jews felt waiting for the Messiah—God’s anointed one—who would sit on David’s throne and would restore the covenant with Yahweh so that his presence might dwell among them once again.

          The prophet Ezekiel documents for us in a vision that, when the Lord’s glory left the Temple at the time of the Babylonian Exile, it left towards the east and that from the east it would return.  Therefore, the ancient Jews looked towards the east, hoping to see the glory of the Lord returning to them.  It is no accident, then, that we read that Jesus, on his triumphal entry into Jerusalem, came by way of Bethphage and Bethany at the Mount of Olives, which was directly east of Jerusalem.  God Incarnate was returning to restore the covenant with his people in Jerusalem and he enters the city from the east to fulfill Ezekiel’s prophecy.

          Many people recognized this and so hailed Jesus as the king who would sit on David’s throne and restore God’s kingdom.  They thought him to be a worldly king, however, and so forgot that God’s servant—as prophesied by Isaiah—would suffer for the restoration of his people.  Jesus, however, knew that this must be the case and so freely handed himself over to torture and to death.  In Isaiah’s words: “I gave my back to those who beat me, my cheeks to those who plucked my beard; my face I did not shield from buffets and spitting.”  This is why we read the account of Christ’s Passion on Palm Sunday: because the crucifixion is his triumphant victory and the restoration of the covenant between Yahweh and his people.

          Friends, as we enter into this Holy Week, let this be the “tone” that is set over the whole week: that the Passion and Death of Jesus was not a tragedy that could have been avoided, but luckily was overcome by the resurrection, but rather that the Passion and Death of Jesus is the fulfillment of God’s love for us: Him suffering death on our behalf so that our union with him could be restored in his rising to new life.  Let us, therefore, walk with Jesus as his disciples this week—both in our personal prayer and in our liturgies—so that we, too, might feel the ecstatic joy of Christ’s victory on Easter Sunday: the victory that we celebrate even now, here in this Eucharist.

Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – March 24^th & 25^th, 2018

Triumph and then triumph: the logic of God

Homily: Palm Sunday of the Lord’s Passion – Cycle A

          On the surface, Palm Sunday always seems to contradict itself.  On the one hand, we begin by recalling the grand and triumphal procession of Jesus into Jerusalem as he is hailed as the Messiah: “Hosanna to the Son of David!”  On the other hand, we recall the ignominious defeat of Jesus in his Passion, death, and burial.  Perhaps we’re left asking ourselves?  Which is it, Palm Sunday?  Triumph or defeat?  “Triumph and then triumph”, says Palm Sunday.  What?  How can that be?  Let’s take a look.

          Read using the logic of man, Matthew’s Passion Narrative seems to present Jesus as someone completely powerless to defend himself.  This is because, according to the logic of man, a person demonstrates his / her power over others by exerting control over them.  Since throughout the narrative Jesus seems to be subject to the control of others, he seems to be powerless.  This, it seems, is what gives the Jewish leaders all the more reason to complete their condemnation and execution.  The Messiah—the Son of David—as understood according to the logic of man, would be a powerful leader who would drive out the Roman occupiers.  Jesus, although he did perform acts of great power, did not show his power when challenged by the authorities.  Thus, he appeared to them to be weak and powerless; and, thus, his claims to be the Messiah were blasphemous: since the true Messiah couldn’t be someone powerless.

          Read using the logic of God, however, Matthew’s Passion Narrative presents Jesus as being supremely powerful.  This is because, according to the logic of God, a person demonstrates his / her power by submitting him / herself completely to the will of God, even (and especially) when submitting to God’s will causes him / her to suffer in this world.  The bizarre nature of this logic is on full display throughout the narrative.  For example, when Jesus commands his disciple to put down his sword, claiming to have legions of angels who could come to his aid if he commanded it, yet he didn’t command it.  And why?  Because he knew that it was the will of God that he should submit to this arrest, trial, conviction, and death.  Another example: when Jesus was hanging on the cross, those who had condemned him to death mocked him and challenged him to use his power to come down from the cross so as to prove—according to the logic of man—that he was the true Messiah, the Son of David, the King of Israel, but he didn’t.  Rather, he endured their insults and remained on the cross because he desired only to fulfill the will of his Father.  Thus, in contrast to the logic of man, Jesus showed himself to be supremely powerful according to the logic of God.

          Lent, and the work that we have been doing throughout it, has been about rearranging our logic to conform once again to God’s logic.  This is because the logic of man resists the logic of God.  Through prayer, fasting, and almsgiving, we resist the logic of man and, thus, conform our minds and hearts to the logic of God, submitting ourselves completely to his will once again.  This week—the holiest week of the year—is the culmination of our work.  Each of the celebrations of this week is meant to lead us into the celebration of the ultimate triumph of Jesus’ suffering: his resurrection from the dead on Easter Sunday.

          And so, looked at with the logic of God, this liturgy itself no longer looks so contradictory.  No, my brothers and sisters, the triumphal entry of Jesus into Jerusalem is not followed by his ignominious defeat on the cross.  Rather, according to God’s logic, his triumphal entry is followed by his still greater triumph on the cross.  Thus, what we celebrate on Palm Sunday of the Lord’s Passion is truly triumph and then triumph.

            And so, my brothers and sisters, let us allow the seemingly contradictory tone of today’s liturgy to heighten our senses so as to enter more fully into the experience of the mysteries of our salvation that we celebrate this week: an experience which is renewed for us even now, here in this Holy Eucharist.

Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – April 9^th, 2017

It's not just what happened, it's what's happening still...

Homily: Palm Sunday of the Passion of the Lord – Cycle B

          Each year, Palm Sunday invites us to enter deeply into that fateful week in which Our Lord fulfilled the Father’s plan to redeem us from sin and to conquer sin and death forever.  In this week we follow literally in his footsteps as we watch, day by day, as events unfold leading up to his passion, death, and resurrection.  Today, we preview what Friday will bring us by recounting our Lord’s Passion.  In order to help us to enter more deeply into this experience of Our Lord’s Passion, I would like to share with you a reflection by Father Edward Steiner that was recently published in The Priest magazine.  Fr. Steiner invites us to identify with various persons highlighted in this Passion account so that we might more deeply experience the profound power of God’s mercy, poured out in what Jesus—God’s only Son—suffered for us.  Let us now consider his words.

(I have no desire to invite any sort of copyright complaints, so click here to read Fr. Steiner's full reflection, found on the Our Sunday Visitor website. What follows is what I added to his words at the end of my homily.)

          But what about the woman who anointed Jesus with costly perfumed oil? Are we ever her, offering all that we have simply to honor Jesus for who he is and for what he has done for us?  If we can see and admit our role in the crucifixion, then perhaps we can also acknowledge the chance we are being given to humble ourselves before the Lord and to anoint him with our praise and our service.

          Therefore, this week, let us courageously humble ourselves before the Lord and let us acknowledge our role in his Passion and Death, so that we, too, might glory in the power of his mercy when we celebrate his Resurrection on Easter Sunday: the power that we receive, even now, in this Holy Eucharist.

Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – March 28^th & 29^th, 2015

Empty so as to be filled

          With the Solemn Entrance on Palm Sunday and the reading of the Passion Narrative, there really is very little space for a homily (the Missal actually permits the priest not to preach on this Sunday, because of these factors).  Therefore, I strove to be brief.  The narrative speaks for itself, of course and so I tried to keep my words to a minimum.  May you all have a blessed Holy Week and please keep all of the Elect and the Candidates who will be coming into the Church in your prayers.

-------------------------------------

Homily: Palm Sunday – Cycle A

          Many of you, I suppose, have seen the movie “Son of God” that was in theaters a little more than a month ago.  I’m not a film critic by any stretch of the imagination, but I appreciate films that strive to take a story and then present it in an authentically human way.  In other words, I like it when, after the film, I can walk away thinking: “Yeah, I can imagine that being the way it happened” (if it was a film based on historical events) or “Yeah, I can imagine it happening that way in real life” (if it was a purely fictional story).  After viewing “Son of God”, I felt like I could say that; and I particularly noticed that in the depiction of the Apostles.

          One scene, in particular, in which I noticed this “authentic” portrayal was the “Entrance to Jerusalem” scene.   As Jesus was riding into Jerusalem to shouts of “Hosanna”, my eye was drawn to the reactions of the Apostles.  All of them seemed somewhat astounded.  They looked around in joy-filled amazement at the reception that Jesus was receiving as he came into the city; and you could tell that they knew that they were part of something “big” and that they were proud to be followers of Jesus at that moment; which is something that the Gospel reading doesn’t quite illustrate for us.

          We, of course, shared in that sense of joy-filled amazement as we made our solemn entrance into the Church for Mass today.  We are, in fact, part of something “big”.  It doesn’t take long, though, does it, for that sense of joy-filled amazement to convert to something much more somber as we read through the account of our Lord’s Passion.  This quick turn-around is also a reminder for us of how fickle we can be as followers of Jesus: of how one day we can feel energetic and enthusiastic about following him and the next we feel dejected and as if we’ve turned completely away from him.

          Neither did it take long to see that sharp change in Jesus, did it?  From Jesus’ very animated, kind of “full of life” moments as he enters Jerusalem, we turn to the account of his Passion and find Jesus seemingly empty and passive.  Jesus “emptied himself”, Paul says in his letter to the Philippians, and he took “the form of a slave.”  Now a slave is someone who is typically very passive and he will often speak as if he has no voice of his own.  Thus, we heard multiple times in this account how Jesus replied to Judas, Caiaphas, and Pilate with the phrase “You have said so” instead of countering their statements with his own.  In fact, pretty much everything about this Passion narrative is showing us how Jesus completely emptied himself, making himself a slave and becoming obedient even to the point of the most shameful kind of death: death on a cross.

          As we enter into this most holy of weeks of the year, we, too, are being called to empty ourselves.  For five weeks we have been fasting and praying and seeking more generously to help our neighbor—in other words, emptying ourselves—in order to prepare ourselves for the celebration of Easter; and now we enter Holy Week, a week in which we are called to engage this preparation even more intensely.

          And so let us strive to put away our own pursuits this week so as to spend more time reflecting on how Jesus emptied himself for us; thus preparing ourselves to be filled from the renewal of baptismal grace that we will receive at Easter—a grace whose foretaste we receive even now from this altar: the sacrifice of Jesus’ Body and Blood that saved us from our sins.

Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – April, 13^th, 2014

A Passionate Week

Even though it won't look good on a t-shirt... I love my Argentinian Shepherd! :D

What a blessing to be entering my first Holy Week as a priest (and I'm already exhausted)!  I'm looking forward to many blessings this week.  May God bless you with a very "passionate week" as we focus on Christ's Passion and his Passover from death to life!

-------------------------------------------------

Homily: Palm Sunday – Cycle C

It’s been a week and a half now and I have to say that I am totally enamored with Pope Francis.  Don’t get me wrong, I love and miss Pope Emeritus, Benedict XVI.  After Benedict’s election, I was one of the first to buy and wear the “I love my German Shepherd” t-shirts.  Pope Francis, however, has this wonderful “Latin affability” about him that, in a positive way, contrasts him with Pope Emeritus Benedict’s deep German sincerity.  I’ve been eating up everything that Pope Francis has been saying and watching as many videos of him as I can find and I can say that I am really enjoying getting to know our new Holy Father.  One of the things that struck me as I was reflecting on the readings for today was just how much some of our new Holy Father’s actions reflect much of what we learn about Christ in these readings.

One of the primary things that we learn about Christ from these readings is that he is our self-emptying savior.  You know, Christ did not come with a great military force to overthrow all of the powers of the world in order to save us from sin and death.  Rather, it was his supreme humility that saved us.  Though he was God, he came to be like us: and not just any one of us, but he came to be the one who would be the most despised among us; so much so that he even got to the point of despair that he had been completely abandoned by everyone, including God the Father.

Pope Francis, from what I’ve read about him so far, never let his “exalted” status as the Cardinal Archbishop of Buenos Aires keep him from meeting people wherever they were at.  He eschewed the espiscopal residence in favor of a simple apartment and walked past the car and driver that awaited him to take public transportation.  He remained known as “Fr. Jorge” the whole time, yet he never backed down from speaking frankly to political leaders who proposed laws that were contrary to the teachings of the Church.  For this he was persecuted at times in the Argentinean media and was even accused of complicity in human rights violations during a military dictatorship there.  In other words, though he was the Cardinal Archbishop, a prince of the Church, he nevertheless always chose to serve among his people, not above his people.

Another thing that we learn about Christ from these readings is that he is also our highly exalted savior.  Again, Jesus did not win this great name for himself—the name at which every knee must bend—by putting down all of his enemies (which, by the way, he could have easily done since he was God).  Rather, he allowed himself to be put down.  In doing so, he showed us how we are to live: standing always for truth, in obedience to the Father who alone has the power to exalt us.

When the conclave started, Cardinal Bergoglio (as he was known at the time) wasn’t on anybody’s radar as being a contender for being elected.  Everybody seemed to know that he had garnered the second highest number of votes in the conclave that elected our now retired pope, Benedict XVI, but no one thought that he had much of a chance of getting a large number of votes this time around.  Yet, his brother cardinals recognized him in his “lowliness” and decided to “raise him up” to be exalted among them—that is, to give him a name above all of their names: that of “Bishop of Rome”.  In other words, our new Holy Father didn’t go out and make a name for himself, rather he received it simply by being obedient to the service he had been given.

The final broad theme that we learn about Christ from today’s readings is that Christ is an example for us.  From the Old Testament prophecy of Isaiah, to the New Testament testimony of Saint Paul, to our recounting of the Passion narrative from the Gospel of Luke, we see how Christ offered himself for us and for our salvation.  Yet, it is precisely through these same Scriptures that Christ continues to offer himself to us as an example that we are to follow: calling us to empty ourselves for others just as he emptied himself for us.

From the moment that he first stepped out onto the Loggia, Pope Francis has also been offering himself to us as an example to follow.  From eschewing the papal limousine to ride the bus back to the hotel with the other cardinals, to descending from the pope-mobile during the procession after his installation mass to greet (and tenderly kiss) a severely handicapped person, to committing to celebrate Holy Thursday Mass at a juvenal correctional facility, Pope Francis has been showing us that he takes his title as “servant of the servants of God” quite literally.  Like Christ, our Holy Father promotes conversion not by demanding change in forceful speech or by coercion, but rather by providing a “lived example” for others to follow.  I suspect that this “lived example” is going to challenge each and every of us (if it hasn’t done so already).

My brothers and sisters, we recall Christ’s Passion at the head of this the most holy of weeks of the year in order to remind us of his self-emptying and that his self-emptying calls us to our own self-emptying.  Our new Holy Father, following this example, intends to empty himself by spending time with the poor this week so as to enter more intimately into Christ’s Passion.  Each of us ought to meditate on Christ’s Passion this week and thus seek our own way to empty ourselves for others.  Maybe we could be like the women from Galilee who stood by Christ in his suffering and make a visit to a nursing home or the hospital.  Or perhaps we could feel the compunction of the Good Thief and do a little “spring cleaning” in our homes, sharing what we don’t need with those who go without through the Salvation Army, the Saint Vincent de Paul store, or the Emmaus Mission.  Maybe we are like Simon of Cyrene and we see a friend, family member, co-worker, or neighbor who is carrying a heavy cross—perhaps the recent death of a loved one, a broken family, or the loss of a job—and we decide to take it up for them and with them.

Whatever it is, seek to enter into Christ’s Passion this week by opening your heart to be emptied for others, because when we empty ourselves for others like Christ did, we open ourselves to be exalted as he was.  More than that, however, when we empty ourselves like Christ did, we also open ourselves to discover him: Jesus Christ who suffers both in the poor and with the poor.  Thus emptied of ourselves, we become truly ready to experience the joy of the Resurrection: the joy that awaits us on Easter Sunday.

Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – March 23rd & 24th, 2013

Palm Sunday of the Passion of Our Lord

Follow Jesus on Twitter - or what it would have been like :-)

A great video and a powerful way to enter into the mystery of Holy Week.  Watch and pray...