March 27, 2005: Easter Love

+ EASTER SUNDAY

“On the third day, He rose again in fulfillment of the Scriptures.” That line comes from our weekly Profession of Faith. And that “third day” we speak about is the day we now celebrate.

On Friday, Jesus Christ truly died like any human being does—but now He is just as truly alive again, just as He had said! The Church shouts “Alleluia!” in great awe and joy.

But really, what’s this all about? Our Messiah… our God-Man… lived and died and was resurrected 2,000 years ago. What does this have to do with you or me? We’ve gathered in this pretty church in Cullom, Illinois, to usher in Easter… but many other people are celebrating not by going to Mass, but with marshmallow chicks and chocolate bunny rabbits. What exactly are we doing here?

Not too many months ago, a parishioner of mine—a husband, father and grandfather—died quite suddenly and unexpectedly while home alone one morning. As I celebrated the wake and funeral, I was quite struck by the incredible sadness, and perhaps we can even say the unfairness, that seemed to be associated with this man’s sudden death.

I remember that his wife made the comment that his death came at such an inconvenient time. But when’s a convenient time to die? I guess we can imagine some situations where death might bring blessed relief to suffering, but I don’t know if we could ever call a person’s death “convenient.”

There is a question, though, that is worth thinking about. It’s a question that death puts into perspective for us. What is the best use of our time while we are alive?

Should we spend our time simply enjoying our lives? Should we spend our time helping others? Should we spend our time showing those who are dearest to us that we love them?

I think most of us would agree that we should divide our time among these three things, yet it’s a real challenge to focus on any of them in our daily lives.

There are so many things we should be thankful for each day, but it’s hard to find the time to adequately reflect on our lives and our blessings to appreciate what we have. As we grow older and our lives become more hectic, time passes too quickly. But in the end we are eventually forced to face our own mortality as we experience the passing of friends and loved ones.

So maybe the question we should focus on is: What is the best use of what remains of our time here?

In the end, each of us has to be not just satisfied that we did everything we were capable of doing with our life, but we have to be at peace with what we did in life.

Our Catholic faith is crystal clear that at the moment of death, we are not merely extinguished. Oh no. Like Jesus Himself, we are resurrected to new life. To be sure, life is transformed from earthly life to eternal life, but it is real life nonetheless. And how we spend that eternity depends on how we believed and how we lived in this earthly life.

You see, to be at peace with what we do in life is always going to be a reflection of how we relate to God and of how we treat others. And truthfully, the answer is simpler than the question. The great mystery of life—why we are here and what the purpose of life is—is really just a matter of love. Love for yourself. Love for God. Love for others.

You love yourself by being patient with yourself when you mess up. You don’t make yourself crazy by always comparing yourself to others. You let go of hurts and grudges. You do the things that give you joy. You’re grateful to God for His blessings, and to others for their kindnesses. You take the time you need to pamper yourself a little and recharge your batteries when necessary. You take care of your health—both physical and mental.

You love God by talking to Him every day in prayer—whether it’s reciting your favorite prayers from a well-worn prayer book or simply enjoying His Creation around you. You do your best to form your conscience to guide your life in the way God wants you to live. You consider Him in the way you act and the way you form your attitudes.

And you love others by your kindness toward them. Your patience, your quickness to forgive or overlook slights and injuries. Your ability to smile and stop the gossip. Your going the extra mile to do a good deed for others. Your praying for people—friends and foes alike. Practicing the Golden Rule.

You can wait until your funeral to hear how well you’re doing—but that’s kind of late. I think Easter is a perfect time to do a little self-examination and see if you are a person “at peace” with who you are. If not, maybe a mini-resurrection is in order to fix things before it’s time for the real deal.

You know, it was a little eerie. When I left the cemetery after laying to rest that man I spoke about a little while ago, I turned on the radio to hear “All You Need Is Love” by the Beatles. It struck me that that is all we really need.

On this most blessed and holy Festival Day of Easter, may Our Risen Lord reach out and touch your heart and bless you with His infinite love. Amen. Alleluia!

March 20, 2005: Emptying Yourself for God

+ PALM SUNDAY OF THE LORD’S PASSION

Twenty years ago, Dustin Hoffman made a movie called Tootsie. He played an actor who couldn’t get a part, until he got a break and posed as a woman in a soap opera. The show was a hit so he had to keep pretending he was a woman… until he fell in love with a woman. Then he had the bizarre task of being a man pretending to be a woman who was then pretending to be a man to win the girl! How’s that for irony?

The story of Palm Sunday is no less ironic. Here’s Jesus making an entrance into Jerusalem in a way that can only be described as triumphant… but of course we know that in less than a week’s time, he will have been betrayed, arrested, tortured and put to death on the cross. But irony or ironies, we know that that actually turns out to be part of the most triumphant event in human history.

Most everybody knows the beautiful verse found in John 3:16—For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten son, that whoever believes in him should not perish, but have eternal life.

Yes, Jesus Christ died for us that we might have eternal life. Paradise had been closed since the sin of Adam and Eve, but now the gates were reopened, and all of us have been invited in.

But not so fast.

We get invited to lots of things, but there’s a difference between receiving an invitation and actually going through the door. You might get invited to a wedding, for example. You don’t just stumble out of bed that morning, get into your car, and go… do you? You send back an RSVP. You get your clothes ready—maybe even buy some new things. Have your hair done. You might buy a card and a gift. Get a babysitter. In other words, you make a lot of little plans and take steps.

It’s the same with accepting the invitation for eternal life in heaven. There are certain preparations and steps that must be made.

Again and again, Jesus tells us that if we wish to follow him to heaven, we have to pick up our cross and carry it. Our readings today tell us a very important way that we’re supposed to do that.

In our second reading, we hear a magnificent hymn written by St. Paul to the Philippians. Paul writes that even though Jesus was God, he didn’t try to act like a god. Instead, he emptied himself and took the form of a slave, going around serving the very creatures he created!

What could have inspired Paul to write these amazing words? Maybe you remember the words at the beginning of John’s gospel: In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God… and the Word became flesh!

But those couldn’t have been the words that Paul recalled, since he was martyred 35 years before they were even written.

Rather, it was probably the words of Genesis 1 that Paul thought about… the part that says that all human beings are created in the image and likeness of God. So when Jesus chose to empty himself and identify with the lowest of humans, a slave, he was making a choice that every man and woman has to make: will I live my life seeking equality with God, or will I admit my lowliness and simply serve him by serving others?

In Philippi, the community Paul addresses his letter to, the social structure was a little bit on the snobbish side. The Philippians wouldn’t have anything to do with people they considered beneath them socially. Paul takes them to task for this just before the passage we read today. He told them: Do nothing from selfishness or empty conceit, but with humility of mind let each of you regard one another as more important than himself; do not merely look out for your own personal interests, but also for the interests of others. Have this attitude in yourselves which was also in Christ Jesus (Phil 2: 3–4). That’s exactly what Jesus did when he emptied himself.

And that’s why the passage in our first reading today is so important. Isaiah writes about God: Morning after morning he opens my ear that I may hear. In other words, God’s true followers hit the floor every morning listening… and often, what they hear comes from “the weary”—those on the fringes of society, the “slaves” in our culture.

So we listen to St. Matthew’s account of the Passion and see close up how Jesus emptied himself and became a slave… and what the upshot of this was. Forget about Mel Gibson’s movie. Unlike Gibson, the evangelists did not concentrate on Jesus’ physical suffering. Their goal is to help us appreciate the pain that comes from emptying ourselves for others. Matthew wants his community to focus on Jesus’ determination to give himself, even when some of the recipients of his generosity betray, desert and deny him.

I think one of the most significant parts of Matthew’s Passion narrative is a remark that almost sounds like a throw-away line: There were many women there, looking on from a distance, who had followed Jesus from Galilee, ministering to him.

Could it be that our poor, weary Lord gained the strength to go through his crucifixion by making eye contact with that small group of followers who were willing to empty themselves enough that afternoon to identify with a condemned criminal? Just maybe those who learned from his giving gave him the strength to complete that giving. Something to think about…

As we begin this Holy Week, I hope and pray that we will all find opportunities—through prayer, fasting and almsgiving—to empty ourselves in service to God and neighbor. Amen.

Today’s Readings:
Isaiah 50: 4–7
Psalm 22
Philippians 2: 6–11
Mt 21: 1–11 and Mt 26: 14–Mt 27: 66

March 13, 2005: New Life from Dry Bones

+ The Fifth Sunday of Lent

In our first reading today, the Lord instructed Ezekiel to prophesy that God would open the graves of his people and have them rise up from them, alive again. In the few lines just before this reading, the Lord showed Ezekiel that all that was left of those dead was some dry bones.

It’s quite a dramatic scene, because really, who would ever think that a bunch of dry bones could possibly be knitted back into a living, breathing, healthy human body? Yet that’s exactly what God promised.

Sometimes in life, we might experience something similar. Maybe life has slammed into you so hard that you can’t imagine ever getting back to being happy, healthy, normal and “whole” again. Yet that’s the promise of God—and the promise of Christ in the gospel today: This illness is not to end in death, but is for the glory of God… I am the resurrection and the life; whoever believes in me, even if he dies, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die.

Not too many weeks ago, the whole world’s attention turned to the Far East where the tsunami struck. Our hearts went out to the victims and the survivors. People lost spouses, children, parents, homes. Disease and starvation were rampant.

Then we see the victims of war in the Middle East or South America. We see people touched by famine in Africa or India. Reporters don’t have to tell us what we already know: many if not most of these victims don’t survive… but some of them do. In fact, societies and cultures where these kinds of conditions are common make up a greater portion of our world than we’d like to think. And as hard as it may be for us to believe, within those cultures, people find reasons for living and loving one another.

Once again, the question we want to ask is—How? If I’m living with cancer, heart disease, AIDS, depression, widowhood, poverty, or some other heavy-duty problem in my life, how can I find reasons for living and loving, ways to find happiness and fulfillment?

The trick is where to look and where to turn for answers. What every survivor ultimately finds is that the materials of this earth and what we have made from them may support life, but they do not create it or maintain it. It is God and God alone who breathes life into our body and into our spirit.

I’m sure most of you are familiar with the Tour de France, the famous French bicycle race. In fact, the third leg of the race—the Paris-to-Nice leg—is now in progress. The 208 participants each dream of being first.

Not too long ago, I read a story about a very different bicycle race in India. The object of this race was to go the shortest distance possible within a given amount of time. At the start of the race, everyone lines up at the starting point. When the gun sounds, all the bicycles, as best they can, stay put. Racers are disqualified if they tip over or one of their feet touches the ground. And so they inch forward just enough to keep their bike balanced. When the time is up and another gun sounds, the person who has gone the farthest is the loser, and the person closest to the starting line is the winner.

Now imagine getting into that race and not understanding the rules. When the race starts, you pedal as hard and fast as you possibly can. You’re out of breath. You’re sweating. You’re delighted because the other racers are way back near the starting line. You’re going to break the record. You think: this is fantastic! Don’t let up. Push harder and faster and longer and stronger.

And at last you hear the gun that ends the race, and you’re on top of the world because you are unquestionably the winner… except you are unquestionably the loser because you didn’t understand how the race is run.

Jesus, who is the way, the truth and the life… the resurrection and the life… gives us the rules to the eternal race of life. The finish line is painted on the other side of our death, right in front of the throne of God himself.

The rules for this race are hardly a secret, yet if we don’t or won’t listen, then how can we possibly expect to win?

A few years ago, I went through a period where I had fun entering all kinds of contests. I remember reading the advice of a successful contest entrant. She said that a lot of entries are thrown out because the people didn’t follow all the directions. They could be simple things—like use blue ink, or print, or staple the receipt in the upper left, or circle the price on your sales receipt… So she stressed reading the directions carefully and paying attention to them. And sure enough, I won a few times!

Jesus tells us again and again what the winning strategy is for this life and for eternity. It is caring about others and not ourselves. It is letting others go first and not pushing to the front. It is giving without the expectation of getting in return. It is being humble, turning the other cheek, forgiving. It is picking up our cross and carrying it without complaint. It is loving God and letting him love you back.

This week, take another look at your life with a fresh viewpoint. If you are heavily burdened, try to imagine your crosses as gifts from God… as stepping-stones on the path to the resurrection of the blessed to eternal life. Take the Lord’s hand and let him guide you along this path. And be at peace and of joyful heart. Amen.

Today’s Readings:
Ezekiel 37: 12–14
Psalm 130
Romans 8: 8–11
John 11: 1–45

March 6, 2005: Passing Through Their Midst

+ The Fourth Sunday of Lent (Laetare Sunday)

There’s a well-known piece of advice that some folks like to give, and it’s this: you’ve got to go along to get along.

Of course, we understand that this means that you should be reasonable… maybe a little flexible… ready to compromise — not sell your soul to the devil, mind you, but it’s a good thing to bend a little for the sake of harmony… and basically engage in the approach of politicians: you scratch my back, and I’ll scratch yours.

It sounds very Christian, doesn’t it? Working for peace… unity… fellowship.

But it’s not quite the Gospel that Jesus preaches.

You may remember Our Lord’s disturbing words: Do not think that I came to bring peace on the earth; I did not come to bring peace, but a sword. For I came to set a man against his father, and a daughter against her mother, and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law; and a man’s enemies will be the members of his household (Mt 10, 34–36).

Today, St. Paul tells his flock in Ephesus the same thing: Live as children of light… Take no part in the fruitless works of darkness; rather expose them… (Eph 5, 8 and 11).

In other words, it is the duty of good Christian people to do the right thing. We’ve got to speak the truth, teach the truth, live the truth, even if it means terrible conflict. That’s because God’s truth is the path to God’s love — not some kind of peace that comes from a compromise with the truth.

And there, you see, is precisely why Jesus’ public life is marked with conflict after conflict. Oh, people thought He was great when he healed them or comforted them or worked a wonderful miracle in their midst.

But when He called them to task for their sinfulness or their hardness of heart, that’s when the swords came out.

Today’s Gospel illustrates just that. The Pharisees don’t care that Jesus healed the young man born blind. All they can see is that Jesus thumbed His nose at them by refusing to observe their interpretation of the Sabbath rest — which they said meant doing no work, not even life-giving, healing work. It infuriated them that Christ simply ignored them and their narrow-minded and erroneous opinion.

Now, there’s an interesting little side twist that flows out of all this:

When we do what Christ teaches — and what St. Paul teaches today — God is going to watch out for us and take care of us. We are shielded from harm.

In several places in the Gospels, Jesus finds Himself in a very tight spot. People are infuriated over something He’s said or done. Earlier this week, for example, we heard a Gospel at Mass where Jesus said that no prophet is welcome in his own home town. He went on to talk about the experiences of Elijah and Elisha who couldn’t work miracles for the Jews, their own people, but only the Gentiles were able to benefit. When Our Lord was finished speaking, the people were in a rage. They drove Him out of the synagogue and were going to throw Him over a cliff (Lk 4, 24–29). But listen to how this Gospel passage ends: But passing through their midst, He went His way (v. 30).

What exactly happened here? It’s kind of frustrating, because we don’t get any more information than that. How did Jesus pass through the midst of an outraged and menacing crowd bent on hurling Him over a cliff? Was it by the sheer force of His personality that no one would dare stop Him when He walked off? Or, did His disciples surround Him like a human shield of Secret Service agents to whisk Him away to safety?

Of course, we’ll never really know. It’s part of the great mystery of Jesus.

But even so, the Church reminds us that Jesus is like us in all things but sin… so perhaps that suggests that we, too, have the power to pass through our tightest jams in safety and be on our way.

Think about it. What have been the times that you’ve been in an awful spot? How did you get out?

Now, if you find yourself in a sticky situation because of your own sinful choices, well, maybe you’re on your own to work your way out. You know what I mean: getting caught in a lie, or caught cheating or stealing, or having some deception or dishonesty backfire on you… that’s too bad, but you made your own bed, as they say.

No, instead, I’m talking about the situations where you’re innocent and trying to do the right thing, but people get mad at you: for instance, working for justice or civil rights even when the people you’re trying to help aren’t today’s media darlings… standing up for life in the midst of a culture of death… defending Gospel values in what Jesus repeatedly calls “an evil and depraved generation.”

You can be sure that God will take care of you. He promised He would. He said, yes, you may be hated — even by parents and brothers and relatives and friends, and they will put some of you to death… Yet not a hair of your head will perish. By your endurance you will gain your lives (Lk 21, 16–19).

So, you want to know how to get out of tight spots like Jesus did? Watch Him and study His life. Read and reflect on the Gospels. Go off to a quiet place and pray like He did. Strive to do right. Be forgiving and compassionate. Love even the unlovable.

And above all, have faith. St. Peter could walk on the water like Jesus until He said, “What am I doing?” and he panicked. We, too, can work our way out of any tight spot… and in fact, make it all the way to heaven — if only we believe.

What a joyful, uplifting message on this Laetare, or Rejoice, Sunday of Lent!

Today’s Readings:
1 Samuel 16, 1–13
Psalm 23
Ephesians 5, 8–14
John 9, 1–41