17 March 2015

Getting an Eye Transplant

Fourth Sunday of Lent–Second Scrutiny
I give real credit to those who use contacts.  I don’t think I’ll ever be a contacts guy because I hate the idea of touching my eyes.  I don’t know why I have this phobia, but one of the most sickening things for me in movies is when someone gets their eye poked or damaged or even removed!  I see pictures of people having eye surgery and it just makes me sick to my stomach!!
But, if we are honest, we need eye transplants.  Our eyes do not work as they are supposed to work.  They receive the light of the sun, but do they receive the light of God?  Just as our eyes need the light of the sun (s-u-n) to see our world, we need the light of the Son (S-o-n) to see as God sees.  Even Samuel, one of God’s greatest prophets, didn’t fully see by the light of God because he couldn’t see God’s choice for the new king of Israel.  Only after God enlightened Samuel did Samuel understand that David was to be the new king, even though David was not considered to be much by his family.  
So, too, the man born blind was able to tell who Jesus was, even without following Him, because Jesus cured Him.  The Pharisees were closed off to the Light of Christ and so they could not see, even when it was right in front of their faces, that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God.  Of course, even the blind man needs some help in recognizing just who Jesus is, because Jesus has to reveal Himself as the Messiah.  But as soon as that comes to light, the man born blind believes.
Today we’ll pray again for our Elect, that they might see with the light of the Son of God.  We will pray that they will be freed from being blind to truth, and seeing false values and lies.  And this freedom from lies will happen through the Holy Spirit, the Spirit of Truth.  But we also need to pray for ourselves.  We also need the Spirit of Truth to give us new eyes to see as God sees.  What a great gift to be able to see that way.  How differently would we treat each other if, when we saw a person in our work, on the street, and even in our homes, with the eyes of God!  What a difference that would make in our life and in theirs!!  

As much as it makes me a little queasy just to think about it, we need to pop out our eyes that see from a worldly point of view, and pop in eyes that only are work with the Light of Christ.  At the Easter Vigil I will sing “The Light of Christ” as that one Paschal Candle illumines the darkness of the night, showing us in visible form how Christ is the Light of the World who dispels the darkness.  In these next few weeks as we prepare for the Easter Vigil, that Vigil of Vigils, may our eyes be more attuned to the only light that we truly need: the Light of Christ.

Picking the Fruit of the Tree of the Cross

Fourth Sunday of Lent
Very few people I know like to get in trouble.  As children (and sometimes as adults) when we have done something that we shouldn’t, something for which we could get in trouble, we tend to run away and hide.  We don’t like to admit that we’ve done something wrong.  If there’s a broken anything in the family house, it was never one of the kids who did it; it was always done by someone named Idont No.  
We probably get this from our first parents, Adam and Eve.  Back in the Garden of Eden, they were tempted to eat the forbidden fruit, to disobey God’s command.  And they both did it.  But then what did they do?  They hid because they were ashamed.  They didn’t want to face God and what the consequences would be.  To admit that they were wrong was to admit that they were naked, totally seen, by God.
We like this first part of the Gospel today, John 3:16.  This passage may be one of the best know passages in all the Bible: “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish but might have eternal life.”  We see it at sporting events, especially football games from people in the seats behind the goal posts.  And it is powerful, and needs to be spread more.  It is important for us always to carry this message with us, that Jesus came as the result of God’s love so that we do not have to perish, to die eternally, but so that we can live eternally.  If you read this passage, you’ll notice that it’s not in quotation marks.  This isn’t some that Jesus said (at least according to modern reading of this passage), but is rather John’s commentary on Jesus’ conversation with Nicodemus.
But St. John also says something important later in this same passage: “the light came into the world, but people preferred darkness to light, because their works were evil.”  St. John, having spent three years with Jesus in His public ministry, the same disciple who was beloved by Jesus and leaned on his chest during the Last Supper, was keenly aware that people prefer darkness to the light that Jesus brings.  And why?  Because we think in the darkness we can hide our sinfulness and get away with it.  We don’t want to get in trouble.  We don’t want God to see our imperfections.
But St. Paul reminds us in our second reading that response to sin is not to hide in the darkness, but to run to the mercy of God.  He writes to the Ephesians that God wants to, “show the immeasurable riches of his grace.”  God sent Jesus not to condemn us, but to forgive us.  But to be forgiven, we have to come into the light.  We have to come and admit our sins which cause spiritual death so that God, who is rich in mercy, can forgive us and raise us to new life.  God’s mercy and forgiveness are the fruit of the tree of the cross, the fruit that God wants us to pick regularly and consume.  And God encourages us and pushes us there.  But only we can pick that fruit of mercy, just as only we can pick the fruit of disobedience like our first parents.  
We shouldn’t want to sin and to do bad things.  But when we do, God encourages us to come running to Him, rather than running away from Him.  God wants us to come to the light, rather than to hide in the darkness.  And the funny thing is that God already knows what is in the darkness.  He knows the ways that we have distanced ourselves from Him.  But when we bring it into the light we find not condemnation but mercy.  We are only really in trouble if we continue to prefer the darkness to the light and hide from God.  Because when we hide from God we show that we do not really believe in Him and His power to forgive.  And, while St. John says clearly that, “Whoever believes in him will not be condemned,” he also says in the same sentence, “but whoever does not believe has already been condemned.”  

We can all help to promote people coming to the light, especially in our families.  Yes, there will be negative consequences for making bad choices.  That is the nature of bad choices: there are bad things that follow.  But what a beautiful thing it is when a child or a spouse comes forward to admit that he or she has done wrong.  In that moment, even though there is often hurt from the wrong done, especially if it’s wrong done to a person, there is also, or should also be, joy in having the wrong come into the light.  To put it concretely, you may still punish your child for stealing $20 to help them to understand that stealing is wrong.  But at the same time there should be some mitigation for that child coming forward in honesty to admit the wrong he or she has done, because that child had the courage to come into the light so that he or she could receive mercy.  When we come into the light and reveal our sins to God (who knows them already), He is merciful to us.  Hopefully we can also live that way and show God’s love by being merciful when a wrong is brought into the light to us.

10 March 2015

Blessed with a Long Gospel

Third Sunday of Lent–Scrutinies
As you stood and heard this long Gospel passage today, the Gospel of the Samaritan woman at the well, I am sure that certain words were going through your mind: words like “blest,” “privileged,” and “fortunate.”  Those were the words that were going through your mind, right?
Those should be the words that came to your mind as you heard this Gospel, because this Gospel is only read during this year when the Church is celebrating the Scrutinies.  And we only celebrate the Scrutinies when we have the Elect of God, those who are to be baptized, confirmed, and receive the Eucharist for the first time at the Easter Vigil.  The Elect are the children in the womb of this parish, who are about to be born to new life in the Sacraments.  The Scrutinies, the ritual book tells us, 

are reinforced by an exorcism, are rites for self-searching and repentance and have above all a spiritual purpose.  [They] are meant to uncover, then heal all that is weak, defective, or sinful in the hearts of the elect; to bring out, then strengthen all that is upright, strong, and good.  [They] are celebrated in order to deliver the elect from the power of sin and Satan, to protect them against temptation, and to give them strength in Christ, who is the way, the truth, and the life.

Now, this isn’t the kind of exorcism where heads spin and pea soup gets spit out.  This is a minor exorcism, meant to establish in the Elect the Lordship of Jesus Christ.  
This long Gospel is read because it is an example of conversion, to which the Elect have been called, and by which they can be strengthened.  And this is a perfect example of what happens when we encounter Christ.  At first the woman fights the conversion, speaking about how Jews and Samaritans are not supposed to mix.  But Jesus doesn’t give up.  He offers the woman living water, not just the water that she came to draw to quench her physical thirst.  And the woman wants it, but doesn’t quite understand just what Jesus is saying.  When we encounter Jesus, He offers a gift to us, and we may fight it, or may not fully understand what He wants to give us.
But then, as the encounter continues, Jesus identifies the ways in which there is separation between God and her.  She tries to avoid the situation by saying the truth, just not all the truth.  When confronted with the truth by Truth Himself, she tries to avoid again, and tries to start a fight about how worship should go.  But she is still drawn in.  At the beginning of the encounter, Jesus was just, “a Jew.”  After He promises her living water, He is “Sir.”  When He reveals her past, He is “a prophet.”  
When we are in the presence of holiness, our sinfulness has to be confronted in order to be cast out.  This is not always fun, and it’s not something we always want to do.  So we, too, often try to change the subject, rationalize away our sins, or even try to complain about the Mass being too long or celebrated in a way that we don’t like.  But when we truly encounter Christ, we, too, move from just Jesus the morally good guy, to Jesus the teacher, to Jesus the prophet who speaks for God.
Jesus sidesteps her argument about the Mass, and speaks about who God desires her to follow Him and worship God in spirit and truth.  He then reveals Himself as the Messiah, the anointed one of God, the desire of her heart.  And the woman cannot hold in her joy at becoming a follower of Jesus, but tell others.  
Jesus doesn’t stop with our sinfulness.  He tells us how much He loves us and wants us to follow Him and worship God in spirit and truth and reveals Himself to us as the desire of our hearts.  And if we truly have come into contact with Jesus, then we should want to tell others.  We see Jesus as the Son of God, who reveals us to ourselves so that we can truly be happy.  

Our Elect of God started by inquiring about who this Jesus guy is.  They were drawn to Him.  Then they drew closer in starting the process of learning what it means to be Catholic.  And recently, they were chosen by God through the ministry of the bishop to become Catholic at the Easter Vigil.  Let us pray for them that they will continue to know Jesus more fully until they are configured to Him in baptism.  Let us pray for ourselves, that we will also be converted more like the Samaritan woman, and tell those we know about Jesus the Messiah.

Immersed in the Mass

Third Sunday of Lent
German World Cup Athlete
If I were to try to explain the rules of soccer to someone who didn’t play, soccer would likely sound like one of the most boring and complicated sports in the world.  It would sound something like: the point of the game is to get the ball into the opponent’s goal; but you have to use your feet to get the ball there; or you can use your head; if you use your hands it’s a penalty, unless you’re a goalie within the goal box, or unless  you’re throwing the ball in from out of bounds; but if you throw the ball in then both feet have to be on the ground and the ball has to go completely over your heard; but if the ball goes out on the goal line but not in the net, if it was last touched by the offense it’s a goal kick, which means that the ball is placed on the ground and kicked; if it was last touched by the defense it’s a corner kick, which means that the ball is placed on the ground at the corner flag.  And I won’t even get into the offsides rules that confuse so many people!
It sounds like a lot of rules that may or may not make sense.  But when you see a professional athlete play soccer, see how all the rules work together to allow two teams to try to win, and see how the rules allow play to continue without favoring one side or another, the beauty of soccer comes through.  The rules of the system allow the activity to continue in a way that beauty is conveyed.  How often do we speak about the way an athlete plays as poetry in motion!
Jesus, in the Gospel, is crying foul (or blowing His whistle for a penalty) with the merchants and moneychangers in the temple.  It’s easy to gloss over why Jesus gets so upset.  We can quickly jump to conclusions about why Jesus throws out the moneychangers and merchants.  After all, why would there be a mini-bank in the temple?  And the merchants were selling oxen and sheep and doves, and those things smell, are messy, and, if they’ve eaten recently, tend to leave little presents that need to be cleaned up.  But the moneychangers were helping Jews from across the world exchange their money so they could pay the temple tax in the accepted shekels.  They were like super ushers who would exchange money for you for the collection.  And the merchants were really just religious goods salesmen, as those animals were only used for one thing: sacrifice.  And yet Jesus casts them out!  Why?  Because they were not allowing the beauty of the temple and of temple worship to shine through.
We have a lot of rules when it comes to Mass: don’t eat or drink anything besides water and medicine 1 hour before you receive Holy Communion; stand at this time, sit at this time, kneel at this time; the priest and deacon have certain words that they need to say, and can rarely ad lib; all vessels must be made of precious metal which hold the Body or Blood of Jesus; not every song that we like can be sung; and the list goes on.  These rules are meant to communicate the beauty which the Mass is meant to show, namely, the truth of Jesus’ perfect sacrifice on the cross and our participation in the Paschal Mystery.  The less we know about the reasons for the rules, the more they seem capricious or willy-nilly, just like the rules of soccer seem strange to those who are not immersed in the beauty of the game.  But, when we familiarize ourselves with what the Mass is supposed to be, the worship of rational beings to God, joined to the perfect worship of Jesus on the altar of the cross, it’s like watching professional athletes play World Cup soccer: the rules don’t seem as clunky, and, in fact, they allow each individual to use their talents in a more profound way.  

I invite you, if you don’t understand what goes on in the Mass, to read, attend adult faith formation sessions, and learn more about what occurs when the Mass is celebrated.  The more we do, the more we will see the beauty of the Mass as facilitated by the rules, rather than just a bunch of rules that don’t let us do what we want to in the Mass.  

04 March 2015

Where's the Animal?

Second Sunday of Lent
What is our reaction to the first reading today?  What thoughts cross our mind when we hear about God asking Abraham to sacrifice his beloved son, Isaac, on Mount Moriah?  Perhaps we weren’t really thinking about it too much because we’ve heard the story before.  We know that the angel will stay Abraham’s hand and the ram will take Isaac’s place.  But when we do that, we lose the force of this passage.  What if God asked you to sacrifice your child or one of your children?  What would your reaction be?  Would you start marching up the mountain?
This story should make us shudder.  Part of the story wasn’t so strange for the Jews and pagans hearing it, because the sacrifice of the son was part of a few pagan worship practices.  In fact, the Israelite and Judean kings will be blamed by God later for taking upon themselves the worship of Moloch; and the way Moloch was worshipped was by immolating, killing, the first son by throwing him into the fire.  But even while Abraham was probably not surprised that a god might ask for the sacrifice of the son, that didn’t make it any easier for Abraham.  He had sent away Ishamel, his son by the slave woman, Hagar.  He and Sarah were even more past the age for bearing children than when Isaac had been conceived probably around twelve years earlier.  And yet, God had promised that Abraham’s descendants would be more numerous than the stars in the sky or the grains of sand by the sea.  You can imagine the question Abraham has going through his mind: ‘How could this be?  How will I have all these descendants if God is asking me to kill my son?’  
Maybe some of the children could relate to Isaac, too.  Hopefully not because they think their parents would kill them!  But imagine what must have been going through Isaac’s head: ‘Dad says we’re going to offer sacrifice to God today.  And here I am carrying the wood, and the knife, and everything to make the sacrifice, but where’s the animal that we’re going to sacrifice?  It’s just me and dad walking up the mountain!!’  With each step, maybe Isaac got a little more nervous about what was going on.  And Isaac is even forced to set up the wood for the sacrificial fire.  And Isaac even lays down, no doubt asked by his father to do so, as Abraham was an old man, and there was no way he could have caught up to Isaac if he decided to run away, or fight off Isaac if he decided to resist being sacrificed.  Hopefully we’re starting to feel the tension, like in a movie where the hero is about to die, but you’re not quite sure the hero is going to be able to escape and wondering how the plot can continue without the hero.
Even though this account that we hear today is a true account, it also foreshadows a future event to which St. Paul refers: the crucifixion of Jesus.  Isaac becomes a prefigurement of Jesus: he carries the wood for his own sacrifice; he willingly lays down upon the wood to be sacrificed.  But, instead of an angel appearing at the last minute to stop Abraham from killing his own son, God the Father allows Jesus to die.  The scourges fall on Jesus’ back; the nails pierce through Jesus’ hands and feet; the spear punctures Jesus’ side.  There is no ram to take Jesus’ place.  Jesus Himself, the only Son of God, the Beloved, dies, the sacrifice of the Lamb of God to take away the sins of the world.  The hero of the disciples dies, as an unexpected twist in the plot of their lives and in salvation history (at least from our point of view).  
With such drastic suffering that the disciples were going to experience in watching their master be arrested, scourged, and put to death by evil men, God did not want the disciples to be without hope.  And that’s where the Gospel comes in today.  God gives the disciples a preview of the end of the movie: the Resurrection and Ascension as Jesus is transfigured before their eyes.  Peter, James, and John get a preview of the heavenly life and what a glorified body will look like to help carry them through the dark days of the Passion of our Lord.  Of course, they don’t understand that it’s meant to carry them through.  Especially in the Gospel of Mark (by tradition Mark’s source for Jesus’ life was St. Peter) the disciples never seem to understand what’s going on, with a few brief exceptions.  But afterwards, they see how God was preparing them for suffering by seeing a taste of glory.
That preparation is important for us, too.  For many of us, there is suffering in our lives: unemployment; loved ones with diseases; dysfunctional families; a lack of friends.  God doesn’t say to us: deal with it!  He does, sometimes just in fleeting moments, give us a foretaste of the joy that awaits us in heaven.  Mass is supposed to be something of that, as we come together to worship God with precious metals and vestments that remind us of heaven, where we will see God face to face and be embraced by His love and by all those who have been faithful in following Christ.  God gives us the Eucharist to give us strength to make it through suffering, as food for our pilgrimage.  And He shares glory with us in so many other small ways, that we often don’t recognize them until later.  

The same could be said for Lent.  During Lent we focus on suffering: on Jesus’ suffering; on uniting our own suffering and penances to Jesus on the cross.  But it’s not meant to be all suffering.  Even this early, in the second week of Lent, God gives us a foretaste of the glory that comes after suffering through Him, with Him, and in Him.  Lent is not the end of the story.  Jesus’ death is not the end of the story.  God has prepared glory for us, just as He prepared glory for Jesus and raised Him from the dead.  May we recognize the foretastes of glory that God gives to us, so that the joy of Easter carries us through the Good Fridays of our lives.