New Levels

Fourth Sunday of Lent

    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  A few people in the parish know that I play the online game, Clash of Clans.  For those who know, I’m Town Hall 17.  For those who don’t, probably best not to wonder too much.  It’s a game on the phone or tablet where you collect resources, build and defend your village, and war with other plays to get more resources and collect special rewards.  It’s not a role-playing game, but just a fun, online pass time that gives me a distraction a few times a day when I can use a rest for my brain.
    Inevitably, as I get close to getting to the highest level for all my buildings and troops (maxing out, we call it), they release new levels and new things which moves the finish line farther away.  For example, just as I was about to complete most of my buildings for Town Hall 16, they added Town Hall 17 and new upgrades on most of the buildings, which means I had to start saving resources to get to the next level.
    All this “nerding out” does have a point.  In our Gospel today, and to a lesser extent in the epistle, we have different layers that lead somewhere else.  In the epistle it’s a bit simpler: we start with the story of Abraham and Sarah and their slave Hagar.  Now, Abraham and Sarah and Hagar were all real.  They lived life as the Bible describes, including Sarah “convincing” Abraham to have relations with Hagar because Sarah was barren, and Hagar giving birth to Ishmael.  But then God allows Sarah to give birth to a son Isaac after she has relations with Abraham.  And, like the good soap opera which it sounds like, the two women who bore sons to Abraham don’t get along.  But St. Paul notes that this true story was also a foreshadowing of the Law of Moses (represented by Hagar and Ishmael) and the Law of Christ (represented by Sarah and Isaac.). But it also points to the earthly Jerusalem (again, represented by Hagar and Ishmael) and the heavenly Jerusalem (again, represented by Sarah and Isaac).  Just when you think you understand one story, it’s taken to the next level.  And the epistle, as I mentioned, is the easier reading of the two.
    In the Gospel, we have all sorts of levels going on, some of which are directly mentioned, but some of which only make sense in the broader Biblical and theological context.  We start with Passover in the Book of Exodus (the anniversary of which is the time in which the Gospel takes place).  Hopefully we remember what happened: the Israelites put the blood of the unblemished lamb on the doorposts of their houses in Egypt, so that the Angel of Death would pass over their houses.  God established it as a liturgical feast to be celebrated every year as the making present of the past event of the thing that made Pharaoh free the Israelites from slavery.  That’s the first level.
    The second level is the Gospel today, which takes place around the feast of Passover.  In the Gospel, Jesus miraculously multiples five barley loaves and two fish into enough for 5,000 men, not counting women and children.  After this miracle, and after the Lord flees from the Jews who wanted to make Him King, because it was not yet His hour, Christ gives the famous Bread of Life discourse, teaching us that if we wish to have eternal life, we must eat His flesh and drink His blood.  Many of the Lord’s followers reject this hard teaching and walk away, but He doesn’t change what He says or even modify it.
    But, the multiplication of the loaves points to something which is coming up: the Last Supper.  Christ gives His Apostles, His first bishops, a new liturgy, connected to the Passover, but superseding it, in which ordinary unleavened bread and wine, which were used in the Passover, becomes His Sacred Body and His Precious Blood.  Christ uses language to assert that this is a new rite for His new Church, and asks that they repeat this ritual in His remembrance.  This is level three.
    But we’re not done yet.  Because the Last Supper points to and intimately connects to the offering of the truly unblemished lamb, the Lamb of God pointed out by John the Baptist, on the cross on Good Friday.  The Eucharist, the sacrament of the Flesh and Blood of our Savior, first preached in John, chapter 6, was instituted on Holy Thursday, but is the unbloody presentation of what happened on Good Friday.  The Precious Blood of the Lamb of God save, not only the first born in Egypt, but all of God’s people in all time and space whom God has chosen.  Death is conquered when Life Incarnate dies on the tree, and Christ gives us a way to access that conquest of death each time we receive the Eucharist in a state of grace.  Level four.

Ghent Altarpiece

    But wait; there’s more!  Because the Eucharist, the re-presentation of Calvary in an unbloody manner on the altar points to the heavenly Jerusalem (connecting us with the epistle) where Christ eternally offers Himself to the Father in the wedding banquet of the Lamb of God, the heavenly worship to which the Mass points.  This is the fifth level.  The beautiful bottom panel of the Ghent Altarpiece shows the Lamb, pierced with blood flowing into a chalice, on an altar, with a cross nearby, with angels and saints around the altar worshiping and singing, which brings together most of those levels in one artistic rendition.  
    In the Scriptures, so many things connect together, and so many Old Testament true stories point to New Testament fulfillment and realities, which themselves prepare us for heaven.  May our Lenten sacrifices keep taking us deeper and deeper into our understanding of what God has revealed, until we hopefully see the final fulfillment in the kingdom of heaven, where Christ lives and reigns with God the Father in the unity of the Holy Spirit, God for ever and ever.  Amen.  

Not Mine

Feast of the Holy Family

    One of the things that we learn from a young age, which is not necessarily good, is the concept of “mine.”  Certainly there is a natural, perhaps genetic, reaction to items that we need to survive.  But anyone who has dealt with a toddler who has learned the word, “mine,” can attest that it quickly goes beyond basic necessities of life like food and drink, and becomes the M.O., the modus operandi, or way of operating, when it comes to just about anything.  And toddlers have a grip strength that seems to defy logic.  Hopefully, the child grows out of this obsession with mine, though some adolescents, and even adults are still fixated on what is mine, such that they sound more like the seagulls in “Finding Nemo,” or like Gollum in “The Lord of the Rings.”
    Contrasted with the idea of mine is the family, as we celebrate the Feast of the Holy Family today.  Hannah, the wife of Elkanah, had experienced difficulty in conceiving, and had wept copiously in the temple, such that Eli, the priest, thought she was drunk.  But she, with God’s help, conceived and gave birth to Samuel, and, as promised, she returned Samuel to God after she finished weaning Samuel.  
    This probably does not make sense to us.  We would never give up a child.  But this theme of a child that belongs to God runs through the Old Testament.  Think of Isaac, the son of Abraham.  Or Samson, whose father and mother couldn’t conceive, but who received the blessing of a child as announced by an angel, as long as the parents didn’t drink alcohol or eat unclean foods.  And their son, Samson, could not cut his hair.  In fact, the Mosaic law commanded that every firstborn son had to be presented to the Lord in the Temple and redeemed with a sacrifice, as Mary and Joseph did with Jesus, which we will celebrate at Candlemas, the Feast of the Presentation of the Lord.  So offering one’s child to the Lord was not unknown to the Jewish People before the birth of Christ.
    But even after the birth of Christ, we should offer our families to God.  No, I’m not saying that when you child is misbehaving you can drop him or her off at the church and not have to worry about the child again.  But we should be ready to offer our family spiritually to God each and every day.
    Because, after baptism, before we belong to anyone else, we belong to God.  Yes, naturally we belong to our human family, but the bonds of baptism bind us to God in a way that supersedes our bonds to the human family.  That is how Jesus can say that if we cannot give up father and mother, we cannot truly be His disciple.  Most of the time we don’t have to give up family to follow God, but if our family asked us to do something wrong, our first allegiance should be to God.

    For husbands and wives, that means that your spouse, who is probably the most precious person to you in the world, doesn’t really belong to you.  He or she belongs to God, and your vocation as a spouse is to help your spouse get to heaven, because that’s where God wants him or her to be.  In the Episode III of “Star Wars,” Anakin Skywalker turns to the dark side because he cannot stand the idea of his wife, Padmé, dying, and so the Sith Lord, Emperor Palpatine, tricks Anakin into following him with the promise that Palpatine will help save Padmé’s life.  He forsakes all the good he could do for the opportunity to hold on to his wife.  Ironically (spoiler alert), Anakin himself ends up killing Padmé in his anger towards her for not going along with his conversion to evil.  Certainly, husbands and wives should love each, and sacrifice their own good for the other.  But your spouse belongs to God first and foremost, who allows you to be a good steward in caring for your spouse.  But you do not fully possess him or her.
    For parents, this applies to children, as well.  Your child is yours.  But your child is primarily God’s.  You are called to help the child know God and follow God.  Sometimes children will thank you for this and make this part of your vocation easy.  Sometimes children will not like you making sure that you know about God and about how following Him leads to perfect happiness.  And, to a certain extent, we can’t control how children end up.  But parents are responsible for doing all that they can to help their children grow in the faith through prayer, Bible reading, instruction, and even discipline to help children grow in virtue.  From the second you have your child baptized, you acknowledge that your child is “on-loan” to you from God, and God will want to collect on that loan with interest.  God doesn’t want your child to remain a child in the faith, but to grow to adulthood in his or her relationship with God.  That is the interest God expects on what He entrusts to you.
    So please, by all means, care for your family members: your spouse, your children, your parents, your siblings.  But do so recognizing that they are not primarily yours.  We cannot be toddlers when it comes even to our families and say “mine” all the time.  To paraphrase St. Paul in his first epistle to the Corinthians, you are not your own.  You belong to Christ, and Christ to God the Father.  May we each find ways of offering our family to God each day, and helping them get to our true home in heaven.

The Blessing of Children

Feast of the Holy Family

    During Christmas we so often focus on children.  One of the greatest blessings in a family is a child.  A child signifies the fruit of the love between a husband and wife.  A child means that the human race has one more person to continue it.  The child shares certain traits with its parents.  A child means an increase in love, not only from the mother and father, but also, in a mysterious way, from the child itself, who can do very little on its own.  For this reason we celebrate with baby showers or diaper parties; we prepare food for the new parents; we offer to help in any way we can, especially during those first few very difficult months.
    And while all of this rings true for the earthly birth of a child, it is also true for the spiritual rebirth of a person, of whatever age.  A baptized person is the fruit of the love of God.  A baptized person means there is one more disciple, one more follower of Christ.  A baptized person is called to develop the traits of God the Father.  A baptized person means an increase of love from the Most Holy Trinity, but also becomes a vessel of love to return to the Trinity the love he or she first received, but also to share that same love of God with others.
    Right now our society and even our members of the Church at times struggle with welcoming earthly children and with passing on the faith to the next generation.  While it is no longer a constitutionally protected activity in the US Constitution, the citizens of Michigan voted to make abortion a protected activity within our State Constitution.  Our governor has touted how much easier it is now to get an abortion, and has tried to convince others to move here so that they can have abortions whenever they want to.  Apparently the math is lost on her that, when we encourage the killing of the next generation, it doesn’t help the population grow; you can’t add people by subtracting people. 
    While I will also never fully appreciate the challenges in raising a child, and a couple’s discernment through prayer and reflection of how many children to conceive using Natural Family Planning, as well as with compassion for those who want children but who cannot receive them, those who prayerfully choose to have more than two children are often, whether jokingly or not, ridiculed or their intelligence questioned.  “Don’t you know what causes that?” they are sometimes asked.  I once heard a person say, in response, “Yeah, and I like doing it!”
    Spiritually, too, some families struggle to pass on the faith.  In some extreme cases, they advocate delaying baptism until the child can choose for him or herself.  If we were to extend this analogically to the other important aspects of life, the foolishness of this position becomes quite apparent: I’m not going to feed my child until she can decide what she wants to eat; I’m going to let my child choose what clothes to wear, or whether to wear any at all; I’m not going to love my child until he asks for it.  Loving parents force all sorts of things of their kids that they need: food, clothing; and love, to name a few. 
    Kids are smart, too.  They can tell what parents prioritize.  So when sports always or often comes before Mass; when families don’t pray together in the home; when the name of Jesus is more often used as a curse word than to invoke God’s blessings; kids figure out if faith is something that happens when convenient, or if it is a regular part of family life.  People wonder why there are fewer attendees at Mass.  Frankly, it’s because attending Mass, learning about the faith, and prayer are not prioritized in many families.  Kids don’t learn how to follow Christ, or that it makes any real difference, so they stop going to church and growing in their relationship with God as soon as they can. 
    God promised Abraham descendants as numerous as the stars.  And while Abraham struggled with seeing how this could happen, God fulfilled His word when Abraham and Sarah conceived Isaac, whose descendants quickly multiplied in Egypt, and who became a nation, a group of people in their own right.  But it went beyond Abraham’s physical descendants.  The Gentiles, the non-Jews, who were joined to Christ through baptism, also becomes descendants of Abraham, because Christ is a son of Abraham.  God fulfilled His promise through physical and spiritual means.
    But for this to happen, Abraham had to have faith in God, and offer to God the sacrifice of his family.  This happened in a very dramatic way through the almost-sacrifice of Isaac on Mount Moriah, as the Letter to the Hebrews reminded us.  For us, this means offering our family to God, not through death, but through their lives.  Is Mass a priority for you as a family, or is it something you get to if it’s not too inconvenient?  Do you pray at home each day as a family?  Do you pray before meals?  Do you share the stories about Jesus, and, as the children grow, the teachings of the Church?  Another great tradition that has been lost is for a parent to sign their children with the sign of the cross on their foreheads before they leave for school or just to hang out with friends.  This simply gesture, which is proper to parents, reminds the children that they belong to Christ through baptism, and asks Christ, along with their guardian angels, to watch over them wherever they go.  The faith becomes as natural a part of life as eating, getting dressed, and going to school or work.
    Children are a great blessing.  They are, not only the future, but the present.  If we wish our society and our church to grow, we should support life, including helping mothers who have little to bring their children to birth.  We should make sure that, in our families, the faith life is not optional, but is part of how we live every day.  And if you can’t have children for whatever reason, find ways to help other parents and other families.  Because families who center themselves on God and not on the lesser goods of the world help make our society and our church better places to be, filled with more of the grace of God.

The Old Rejoicing in the New

Passion Sunday
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  When it comes to the Bible, I think sometimes we have this sense that the New Testament is all we need to read.  And certainly, it is often a bit easier.  The Gospels and the Acts of the Apostles are pretty straight forward.  The writings of St. Paul, while including some long sentences with very complex structure, are instructive, as are the other epistles from St. Peter, St. Jude, and St. John.  Yeah, Revelation or the Apocalypse of St. John can be a bit confusing and/or scary, and easily misunderstood and misinterpreted, but generally, the New Testament seems like the place to focus.  To use an analogy, the New Testament seems like nice, sunny pastures with rolling hills, while the Old Testament, even with some of the familiar stories that we enjoy, seems much more like a forest with thick growth, and a narrow trail through it.
    But we cannot truly understand Christ without understanding what He Himself revealed before the Incarnation.  We cannot be like the gnostic heretics who claimed that the God of the Old Testament was a different God than Jesus Christ.  When read properly, the Old Testament points to and is fulfilled in Christ.  That is one of the points of the Gospel today.  Our Lord says, “‘Abraham rejoiced to see my day.’”  Abraham rejoiced because in Christ, God’s covenant would be opened up to all nations, a covenant made with a true son of Abraham through Isaac, Jacob, and Joseph.
    The evangelists and apostles were great at seeing how Christ was revealed throughout the Old Testament.  The Letter to the Hebrews, our epistle today, in another place talks about Melchizedek as a type of Christ, since he was king of Jerusalem and a priest of God Most High, and because he had no lineage given (unlike almost everyone else in Genesis), and because He blessed Abram, noting that only a greater blesses a lesser.  The author of the Letter to the Hebrews also quotes Psalm 2 when he asks, “to which of the angels did God ever say: ‘You are my son; this day I have begotten you’?”  And he also quotes other verses to shows Christ’s superiority to the angels.  St. John the Apostle and Evangelist loves to quote earlier Scriptures as he saw them fulfilled by the Savior.  When the soldiers cast lots for the robe at the crucifixion, he quotes Psalm 21:18; when the soldier pierces the dead body of Christ with a lance rather than breaking the legs, he quotes Psalm 33:21 and Zechariah 12:10. 
    The Church Fathers also saw Christ prefigured in Old Testament figures who had their proper importance in their own right.  Christ is the New Adam, the new head of humanity, who, rather than disobeying God and dooming all of humanity, is obedient to God, even to the point of death, and so graces all humanity and opens for all the children of Adam and Eve the possibility of eternal life in heaven. 
    Christ is prefigured in Abraham.  Abraham left his home at the direction of God, and was promised descendants numerous as the stars in the heaven.  Christ “journeys” to earth to fulfill the will of the Father, and joins both Jew and Gentile to God, so that the number of the elect comes from every corner of the earth.

    Isaac, too, represents Christ.  Isaac is the beloved son of Abraham and Sarah.  Abraham, his father, asks Isaac to carry wood for the sacrifice up Mount Moriah, the mountain, according to tradition, on which the City of Zion and Temple were later built.  Isaac is a young man, and yet allows Abraham to bind him to the wood for the sacrifice of his own free will.  So Christ carries the wood of the cross up Calvary, and willingly lays down His life, trusting in His eternal Father.  Abraham’s hand was stayed by the angel, stopping the sacrifice, but no angel stopped the sacrifice of Christ.
    Christ is prefigured in Jeremiah the Prophet.  Jeremiah preached tough messages to the people of Judah.  He condemned trusting in a building, even the Temple of the Lord, and called the people to be faithful to God.  For preaching God’s message, Jeremiah was opposed and oppressed by the king and leaders of Judah, even though his words came true.  Christ preached the Word of God, and foretold the destruction of the new temple built by Herod, built after the temple that Jeremiah saw had been destroyed by the Babylonians.  He was opposed and oppressed by the leaders and many of the chief priests, Pharisees, and scribes of His own day.  Christ called all to fidelity to God and a return to Him.
    This could go on and on (maybe you feel like it has already!).  But the point is that the entire Old Testament points to Christ and is fulfilled in Him.  Beyond the people, all the sacrifices of the Old Testament are fulfilled and perfected in the one, perfect sacrifice of Christ on the Cross, which we will celebrate in a particular way on Good Friday.  So if we wish to truly appreciate who Christ is and what He did for us, we need to be well-versed in the what came before Him.  Yes, it can sometimes seem strange, and needs to be unpacked, and should be done with the assistance of the Magisterium, the official teaching office of the Church.  But rather than avoiding it because it can be confusing, let’s take the safe path of how the Church has read the Old Testament, so that we can arrive at the one fountain of life that forms the hinge between the Old and the New Testaments, Jesus Christ, who with the Father and the Holy Spirit, lives and reigns for ever and ever.  Amen.  

Cut It Out

 VIII Day of the Octave of Christmas & Feast of the Circumcision of our Lord
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  God, in calling Abram out of Ur in modern-day Iraq, said many amazing things to him.  We hear at the beginning of Genesis, chapter 12, that God tells Abram, “Go forth from your land, your relatives, and from your father’s house to a land that I will show you.”  That, in itself, took a giant leap of faith.  Abram was being asked to leave the fertile crescent, the birth-place of civilization, as scholars call it, for an unknown land inhabited by unknown, and possibly hostile, people.  It’s hard enough for us to pack up our entire life and move to a different place.  Imagine doing it without having a home to which you were going, not knowing exactly where God was going to settle you (and whom you might have to dislodge to stay there), and doing it at the age of 75 years old.

    God also promised Abram, “I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you; I will make your name great, so that you will be a blessing.”  Abram and Sarai (later Abraham and Sarah) were well past the childbearing years.  They had no children.  And yet God promised that he would make of them a great nation.  This must have seemed odd to them.  And yet Abram trusted in God to do the impossible.  This makes Abraham’s almost sacrifice of Isaac much later even more incredible.  God had finally given Abraham and Sarah a son, Isaac, and so perhaps they thought that becoming a great nation could actually happen.  But then God asks Abraham to sacrifice that son, that fulfillment of the promise, that promise of hope for the elderly couple.  And yet, Abraham is willing to do it (though God stays his hand at the last minute).
    Before that, in chapter 17, God appears to ninety-nine year-old Abram (who had conceived Ishmael with his slave, Hagar, but was still childless with Sarai), and says:
 

I am God the Almighty.  Walk in my presence and be blameless.  Between you and me I will establish a covenant, and I will multiple you exceedingly.  […] You are to become the father of a multitude of nations.  […] I will make you exceedingly fertile; I will make nations of you; kings will stem from you.  […] I will give to you and to your descendants after you the land in which you are now residing as aliens, the whole land of Canaan, as a permanent possession; and I will be their God.  […] This is the covenant between me and you and your descendants after you that you must keep: every male among you shall be circumcised.  Circumcise the flesh of your foreskin.  That will be the sign of the covenant between me and you.

Luckily, Abraham was open to God’s will.  Because, put in his place, I think most men would have said, “You want me to do what?  To my what?”  
    And yet this was the sign of those who believed in and followed God.  And this sign of the covenant endured even to the time of our Lord, who, though He was the Lord of the covenant, was still joined to Israel by His Mother, the Blessed Virgin Mary, and His foster-father, St. Joseph, in a powerful way that united Christ to Israel as the People who belonged to God, the sons and daughters of Abraham.  Even for those who needed to be joined to Israel, this was a difficult sign.  Indeed, when the Bible talks about God-fearers, it speaks about those who wanted to become Jewish, but who had some issue preventing them from joining.  One can imagine that the thought of circumcision kept any number of adult men converts from becoming fully Jewish and part of the covenant.  God our Savior, who had no need to become part of the covenant, still underwent this sign.
    But the sign had a spiritual meaning in addition to the physical act.  The prophet Jeremiah prophesies: “Be circumcised for the Lord, remove the foreskins of your hearts, people of Judah and inhabitants of Jerusalem; Or else my anger will break out like fire, and burn so that no one can quench it, because of your evil deeds.”  Circumcision was a physical cutting away.  But God also intended it to be a spiritual cutting away of all that was fallen and of disobedience to God.  The covenant was not only to be part of one’s flesh, but also part of one’s heart, spirit, and soul.  
    Christ Himself, while He was subjected to the covenant as an infant, Himself established a new covenant in His Precious Blood, and a new sign of the covenant was given that had both a physical and a spiritual aspect.  That new sign was baptism.  The water washed one clean of original sin, but it also meant a washing away of all that is fallen from that point on.  It made men and women part of the new Israel, the Church, gathered from all the nations, as a people who belong to the Lord.  
    But think of the humility that Christ underwent in being circumcised!  He who is Lord of the Sabbath is certainly also Lord of the Covenant, and so is not bound to it.  But He allows the cutting of His flesh in anticipation of giving His flesh for the life of the world in His Passion.  He subjects Himself to the Law, though He is the Lawgiver.  And He does the same in His baptism in the Jordan, as John baptizes Christ, though John asks to be baptized by Christ.  
    This is a great model for us when it comes to humility.  How often do we bristle when we have to do something that we don’t think we should have to do?  How quick do we make known our importance, and how we think things should go?  But this is not the example of our Savior.  Like Abraham, Christ, the Son of Abraham, trusted in His heavenly Father, and went where the Father told Him to go, did what the Father told Him to do, and said what the Father told Him to say.  “Like a lamb,” Isaiah prophesied, “he was led to the slaughter, and he opened not his mouth.”  Yet, if we bear one unrighteous punishment, how quickly do we open our mouths to protest our own innocence?
    God does not call us to be doormats, but on the other hand, sometimes He allows the just to suffer unjustly for their own sanctity, their own growth in holiness.  The day after Christmas we celebrated St. Stephen, who was martyred though his only crime was to witness to the fact that Christ was the long-awaited Messiah.  The day after that we celebrated St. John, who, while not a martyr, was exiled to Patmos as a Roman punishment for following Christ; the day after that we celebrated the Holy Innocents, who could not even confess Christ with their lips, though they took His place with their deaths; the day after that we commemorated St. Thomas Beckett, who died at the hands of King Henry II for standing up for the rights of the Church.  These past days of the Octave haven been filled with witnesses who suffered unjustly.  Their witness should spur us on when we have to undergo sufferings much lighter than theirs.  

    I would also add Pope Benedict XVI to those who suffered unjustly, but utilized it for his own holiness.  He was often attacked in the media, was called “God’s Rottweiler,” despite his gentle and humble disposition, and suffered other attacks, simply for holding true to the unchanging teachings of the Church.  Yet I never remember him complaining once about those slings and arrows.
    God promised Abraham that he would become the father of kings and many nations.  Abraham remained faithful to God, even in hard times, even when the sign of that covenant meant the stripping away of flesh.  Christ subjected Himself to the Law, and paid the penalty for our sins, though He Himself was the Lawgiver and free from all sin.  What witness will we give through the new circumcision of the heart, holy baptism, by which we become united to God: the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  Amen. 

A New Perspective

 Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
    When I come to a problem, or something that needs fixing, I have a way of seeing one solution to that problem, and proceeding accordingly.  However, sometimes my approach is not the best, or won’t work at all.  It’s not until the problem is looked at from another angle and another approach is taken that the problem can easily be solved or addressed.
    We have lots of issues in society today.  And there are twice as many solutions proposed as there are problems.  But the solutions all tend to focus on an earthly solution; most look to solve the issue.  While laws are important, and policies can help direct funding to needed programs, so many of the issues we deal with cannot be truly solved with earthly solutions.  We need to look to heaven.
    Christians have sometimes been accused of not caring about the world.  They are said to only care about heaven, and so don’t care about the things here on earth.  But more often than not, it is only by concentrating on heaven that we come to see the ways that we can treat, not only the symptoms of what ills our world, but the disease, because the way we deal with our world has an impact on whether or not we go to heaven.  
    Living for heaven takes faith, looking beyond what is seen to what is unseen.  Our long reading from the Letter to the Hebrews talks about Abraham as the model of faith.  He left his homeland in modern-day Iraq to travel to the Promised Land, not knowing what he would find when he got there, or if this God who had revealed Himself to Abraham and called him to sojourn to a new land would care for him.  And then, Abraham trusted that God would give him descendants, though he and Sarah, his wife, were past the childbearing age.  And then, when God asked Abraham to sacrifice that son that they had conceived, Abraham trusted that God would raise him up, so that God’s promise that Abraham’s descendants would be as numerous as the stars in the sky would come true.

     All of this, from an earthly point of view, seemed foolish.  Iraq has been called the cradle of civilization, and society there was likely more advanced than the scattered and small Canaanite nations to which Abraham ventured.  Abraham was one hundred years old when Isaac was born, and no one would have expected that Abraham and Sarah could even conceive, let along bring a healthy boy into the world.  In fact, Sarah saw things from an earthly point of view, and so, before God promised that she would conceive, Sarah told Abraham to have relations with her slave, Haggar, in order to “help” God fulfill His promises.  But Haggar’s son, Ishamel, was not to be the son of the promise, because God had a different solution.  And lastly, even Isaac was probably concerned when Abraham led them both up the mountain, as they had the wood and the fire for the sacrifice, and they had a knife, but no animal to slaughter.  From an earthly point of view, it would have been better to not even climb the mountain and simply run away from God’s mysterious command.
    But Abraham had faith in God, and trusted that, if God promised, He would deliver.  So Jesus told His disciples and tells us, that we are to take a different view as we go about this world.  We are to act as those awaiting for the Master to return.  If we do, then the Master will serve us.  But if we don’t, if we don’t act in accordance with the Master’s will, and do whatever we want, then we will be punished for our disobedience to the Master.
    What does this practically mean?  It means that the choices we make should coincide with God’s will, as much as we are able.  It means that we don’t look necessarily to earthly fixes to our problems, as to heavenly guidance and solutions. When it comes to our environment, we have a responsibility to care for the earth.  Some would say that we can no longer drive gas cars, or travel in planes, or even eat meat because cows fart too much.  That certainly is an earthly point of view (often enough, sadly, wrought with exceptions for the rich and the powerful).  From a faith point of view, we look first at ourselves, and examine our stewardship of created goods.  Do I waste a lot?  Do I use resources unnecessarily?  How do I treat the environment in which I live?  Laws can help us be good stewards of creation.  But when we have that conversion to live as good stewards of creation, as God called us to be in Genesis, then we find even better solutions than mandating rules that apply to “thee but not me.”
    When it comes to the violence that plagues our nation, from an earthly point of view, it would seem the easiest to simply outlaw all guns, or types of guns, for most people.  I can tell you from my work with the State Police, that there are a large amount of people who don’t care what the laws state; they will do whatever they want, for good or for ill.  So simply passing this law, or outlawing that gun, is not going to stop the violence (though perhaps there are certain laws that would help).  When we look to a heavenly point of view, we see how broken families are these days, and how that affects the development of children into adolescence and adulthood.  We see how much disturbing violence children are exposed to on screens from an early age.  We see that people are not taught constructive ways to work out differences, but those who call themselves leaders tend to yell, scream, and destroy whenever they don’t get their way.  Do I do all I can to be a loving mother or father (or grandfather or grandmother)?  Do I make time for my children (or grandchildren), limit and monitor their screen time and what they are viewing?  Do I belittle others and treat them as less than human when they don’t agree with me, or show that each human being has dignity and value, even when we don’t see eye-to-eye?
    With these, and countless other issues, we can get stuck in a hamster-wheel of trying to find solutions that don’t solve the bigger problems.  We forget God, and forget that God has given us long and lasting ways to solve, not only the symptoms of our human failings, but the deeper disease.  Those who keep their eyes on heaven, and on the fact that they will be called to account for their actions to our heavenly Masters, are precisely the ones who are more likely to be good stewards here on earth.  Don’t just seek earthly solutions.  Seek the answers that come from heaven.

Offered and Offering

 Fourth Sunday in Lent

    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  In the Church of the Multiplication of the Loaves in Tabgha in the Holy Land, which was itself founded around AD 350, there is an ancient mosaic dating from around the year 480 in front of the altar where there are two fish and four loaves.  Now, if you were listening carefully to the Gospel, you would know that the multiplication of the loaves and fish involved “five barley loaves.”  So what’s with this ancient mosaic?  Did they simply run out of space?  Was the ancient artist ignorant of the account?  
    In reality, the ancient artist not only knew his Bible, but also knew his theology.  There are four loaves in the mosaic because the fifth loaf is the one on the altar, being consecrated into the Body of Christ.  St. John the Evangelist had this connection between the multiplication of the loaves and the Eucharist as the rest of John chapter 6 goes on to contain the preaching of our Lord about how He is the Bread of Life, and that we need to eat His flesh and drink His blood in order to have life.  
    The Eucharist is the new covenant that our Lord established between Him and us so that we could have salvation and be in right relationship with God.  This is made clear in the words of institution over the chalice: “Take this, all of you, and drink from it.  For this is the chalice of my Blood, the Blood of the New and Eternal Covenant: the mystery of faith: which will be poured out for you and for many for the forgiveness of sins.”  God promises to be our God, and we promise to be His People, in this Sacrament of Sacraments, which itself points to Good Friday, as Christ shed His Blood on the Cross.
    St. Paul takes up this idea of covenants in the epistle as he sees an allegorical interpretation of Genesis and the stories of Isaac and Ishmael.  Ishmael, as the son of the slave Hagar, represents the old covenant, the Law, while Isaac, the son of the free-woman, Sarah, is the new covenant of the Lord.  
    Does St. Paul mean that God has abandoned the Jews and the covenant He made with them?  No.  The Apostle, after spending chapters explaining how the law does not save, writes in his Epistle to the Romans: “I ask then, has God rejected his people?  Of course not!  […] For the gifts and the call of God are irrevocable.”  Even though the law does not save, God does not reject His People, His Chosen Ones.  
    But God has fulfilled what the Old Covenant was meant to prepare for: salvation through Christ.   And that salvation is made present for us in the Eucharist each time we come to Mass.  Christ offered Himself once for all on the cross, but wanted us to have access to the power of the sacrifice, just as the Jews had opportunity to connect themselves to their sacrificial offerings that were made in the Temple.  When a Jew would offer sacrifice, certain parts of the animal offerings were for God, to be burned up on the altar, while others were reserved for the priest, and still others were given back to the people.  So when Christ offered Himself in sacrifice to the Father, the priest (that is I) receives a portion from the bread and wine you have offered, and you also receive a portion of your sacrifice that God gives back to you.  But unlike the old covenant where the sacrifice remains the same, the bread and wine that we offer to God through my hands is transformed by God into the Body and Blood of Christ so that you and I receive better than what we offered.  
    But it is not simply bread and wine that we offer to God.  The boy gave five loaves and two fish to Christ in the Gospel, which was all that he had.  We, too, are called to offer all that we have to God in this Mass, and unite it to the bread on the corporal and the wine in the chalice.  Sacrosanctum concilium, the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy of the Second Vatican Council teaches, “But in order that the liturgy may be able to produce its full effects, it is necessary that the faithful come to it with proper dispositions, that their minds should be attuned to their voices, and that they should cooperate with divine grace lest they receive it in vain.”  Lumen gentium, the Dogmatic Constitution on the Church of the Second Vatican Council expands on this idea of the laity’s participation in Mass when it states:
 

[Christ] also gives them a sharing in His priestly function of offering spiritual worship for the glory of God and the salvation of men.  […] For all their works, prayers and apostolic endeavors, their ordinary married and family life, their daily occupations, their physical and mental relaxation, if carried out in the Spirit, and even the hardships of life, if patiently borne–all these become “spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Christ Christ”.  Together with the offering of the Lord’s body, they are most fittingly offered in the celebration of the Eucharist.

Even in this pre-conciliar form for the celebration of the Mass, you are called to bring to the Apostles, and their assistants, the presbyters (i.e., me) what you have so that it maybe offered to God for the salvation of you and of all.  Any reading of the best minds of the Liturgical Movement before the Council also bears witness to this.  
    So what are you bringing to this Mass?  What are you offering with me, in addition to the bread and the wine?  As I am saying the Canon silently, are you offering to God what has happened since the last time you came to Mass?  Are you giving God the joys your family brings you, and/or the frustrations you experience when they push your buttons?  Are you offering the “atta-boy” or “atta-girl” that your boss gave you for accomplishing a task excellently, and/or the lack of drive and fulfillment in the job which pays the bills but does not utilize your gifts and talents?  Are you praying silently to God thanking Him for the game that you won, and/or giving him your broken heart that was torn when your young love dumped you?  
    These parts of life, and many more that I did not mention, are all part of the sacrifice that God desires.  These ups and downs are meant to be spiritually united to the oblation that I offer, which is itself united to the one, acceptable, perfect offering of Christ on the Cross, re-presented for us in an unbloody way on this altar.  As we continue our pilgrimage this Lent, as we walk with our Lord toward Good Friday, may the joys and sorrows of our life be fitting gifts to God, so that may not only share in the Death, but also the Resurrection of Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with God the Father in the unity of the Holy Spirit, God for ever and ever.  Amen. 

Read Receipt

Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
    One of the things I love about the iPhone is a feature that is part of iMessage, the texting platform for iPhones.  IMessage itself is great, because you can use it over wi-fi, without using your data.  This has come in helpful when I’m in a foreign country and want to text someone a message, but don’t want to use International Roaming.  But within iMessage there’s an optional feature called a “read receipt,” which, as the name implies, allows you to see if someone has read your text.    While I love the feature, others, especially young men in high school and college, aren’t always as enthusiastic about it, and often keep it off, because there’s no excuse or fewer excuses not to respond when someone, say your girlfriend, texts you.  Still, I have found myself wondering, if friends don’t have read receipts turned on, or if they don’t have an iPhone, if they received my text or not, and if they are ignoring me or not.
    Today in our readings we hear about faith.  As we heard in our second reading, “Faith is…evidence of things not seen.”  And the author continues to talk about Abraham and his displays of faith: leaving his homeland in Ur; the conception of his son, Isaac; and then trusting in God even when God asked Abraham to sacrifice that same son, Isaac.  I think it’s fair to say that we have a decent number of parishioners who are past the child-bearing age.  But put yourself in Abraham’s shoes: imagine that you had no heir, and then God tells you that you will conceive.  You would probably laugh like Sarah did when she heard the message. 
    And then imagine even further, when that same God tells you to sacrifice Isaac.  We have the benefit of knowing that God stopped Abraham from completing the sacrifice, but Abraham didn’t know that.  And yet, he trusted God, another way of saying that Abraham had faith.
    There are no read receipts when it comes to prayer.  Prayer is an act of faith, trusting that our loving God hears us and will answer our prayers.  How many prayers have been said in this building over the decades?  Of courses there are the Masses, where we pray and offer our lives to the Father through the Son in the power of the Holy Spirit, but also the prayers that are written in the prayerbook by the statues of Mary and Joseph, the prayers that accompany the lit candles, the prayers said during Adoration, and the prayers from people who simply come into the church to spend a few minutes with Jesus.
    Sometimes, like with the birth of Isaac, we know our prayers have been answered.  Sometimes, they may seem to float into the air and disappear, and we don’t know if God answered them or not.  I think especially of the prayers that we say that our deceased loved ones are in heaven: we pray for that to be true, but unless they are canonized, we take it on faith and hope that they are with God for eternity.  And while we’re unsure, we continue to pray for them and offer Masses for them in case they’re in Purgatory and need our assistance to be welcomed into heaven.
    The Church has also been praying, since the beginning, for Jesus to return.  We may not use the Aramaic words, Marana tha, which means, “Come, Lord Jesus,” but the constant prayer of the Church is that Jesus return and put a final end to sin and death so that we no longer have to suffer through this valley of tears.  We maybe have even asked, “Lord, can’t you come back now?”  And it takes faith to believe that Jesus will return, and He will right every wrong, punish every offense, and judge the world with justice.  Until then, we keep waiting, with faith, for the Master to return.
    And we do our best not to beat His servants while we wait.  This doesn’t only mean avoiding physical violence against the children of God, but doing our best to treat others like Jesus did.  We don’t grow lax because we’re not sure that Jesus heard us, but stay with our daily habits of prayer, our weekly penitential practices, spreading the Gospel by word and deed, and our Sunday worship of God at Mass. 
    And we stay with that for probably one of two reasons.  The first reason is not the fulness of the relationship God wants with us, but is a childish way of responding to God.  And that reason is we don’t want to be punished.  I say childish because it’s like a child who doesn’t want to clean his or her room, but does so in order not to get grounded or a spanking.  We get the job done, but it’s done merely out of obligation.  The second reason is that we love God, and that we want to please Him because we love Him.  This is an adult way because true love always seeks to make the beloved happy.  And nothing makes God happier than spending time with Him, especially in prayer, but also in acts of charity and service. 
    In our prayer, whether our prayers of need or our desire for Jesus to return, there is no read receipt.  On this side of eternity, our relationship with God is always an exercise of faith.  But, follow the faith of Abraham, our Father in Faith, to trust that God will give us every good gift that we need, and that Jesus will return one day to make all things right in Him.

The Whole World Is Changed

Easter Sunday–At the Easter Vigil in the Holy Night of Easter

Tonight the whole world is changed.  Tonight we participate in the most wondrous, unexpected, joyful event ever: the Resurrection.  We keep watch, or vigil, with Jesus, knowing that at some point, during the night, the tomb which had sealed Jesus was broken, the guard scattered, and Jesus went forth from the tomb, not dead, but alive.  The holy women went to the tomb at daybreak on the first day of the week, on Sunday, and the stone had already been rolled away.  They see two men in dazzling garments, who tell them that Jesus has been raised.  And the whole world was changed.

The Aediculum, the place of the Resurrection of Jesus
in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre

Nothing like this had ever happened.  Sure, people had been raised from the dead before.  Elijah and Elisha both raised a boy from the dead; Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead.  But no one had ever risen from the dead on His own power.  And that is what Jesus did.  Jesus, who had no sin, took upon Himself the penalty for sin, and because He suffered willingly for a crime He didn’t commit, sin itself was defeated, and with it death.  And the world was created anew.

We heard about creation in the first reading tonight.  God ordered the chaos.  He separated light from darkness, day from night, earth from water, animals of different kinds, and crowned His creation with man and woman, made in His image and likeness.  But tonight, the night of the Resurrection, God created the world again, no longer under the burden placed upon it by Adam and Eve and their disobedience, but liberated by the Son of Adam and His obedience, even when this meant death, death on a cross.

Abraham showed us a prefigurement of the sacrifice of Jesus in his willingness to sacrifice Isaac, his beloved son.  Isaac carried the wood upon the mountain, Mount Moriah; he willingly let himself be bound to it when his father was about to sacrifice.  But at the last moment, God stayed Abraham’s hand.  Yesterday, Jesus carried the wood of the cross up Golgotha, the place of skull, so named because it was, by tradition, the place Adam died.  It was the place of his skull.  Mount Moriah is also, according to some, the place where King Solomon built the temple a thousand years later.  And so Jesus would have died somewhere around that mountain.  But no ram took the place of Jesus, as it did for Isaac.  Jesus suffered the fate that the angel of God stopped when it came to Isaac.  And because of that death, life, eternal life, became possible.

From the pierced side of Jesus, blood and water flowed.  The water flows from the side of Jesus, which quenches the thirst of all who approach it.  The Blood is the Eucharist; the water is Baptism; both are essential to the life of the Church.  The water renews the covenant God made with David, and makes the new creation fertile and fruitful.  It is the clean water that Ezekiel prophesied, which cleanses us of our impurities and false gods.  It is the water which gives us a new heart and a new spirit, so that we can live by the statutes of God, and become truly His people, His children by adoption.

Tonight the whole world was changed because of what one Person did.  And tonight, the whole world is changed because of what two people are doing.  Tonight, Bilal, with your new baptismal name, Maron, and Mikayla, you two are changing the world.  You are dying with Christ in the waters of baptism, and rising with Him to new life.  You are becoming a part of that new creation, no longer weighed down by the slavery to sin and death, but called to live in the freedom of the children of God.  And it is by people such as yourselves that the world is changed.  

Tonight you become children of God, whereas before you belonged only to your parents.  Tonight you become friends of God, though before you were at enmity with Him.  And that friendship and that identity as a son and a daughter of God in the Son of God will allow you to make the life of Jesus your own in your day-to-day lives.  You may not look different, but you will be different.  The Spirit of God will dwell in you, to help to you love God and love your neighbor; to help you to choose good and avoid evil; to be the light of Christ in a world surrounded by darkness.

People wrote off Jesus when He died on the cross.  Even the holy women, with the exception of Mary, the Mother of God, expected only to anoint Jesus’ body, which they were not able to do on the day before because of the solemn Sabbath of Passover.  They did not expect to see Jesus raised.  But Jesus outdid their expectations.  So you, too, may not seem like much.  You’re only two young people.  But if you stay faithful to Jesus, then you have the same power in you that Jesus had, to change the world, not by force or violence, but by grace and love.  Jesus now shares with you the power to help re-create the world according to the will of God, not the reign of Satan.  

Tonight, we, too, already baptized in Christ, stand with you, assuring you of our support, but also recommitting ourselves to be that new creation in Christ.  As we wait for Jesus to return to put an end to all sin and death and usher in the fulness of His Kingdom, we sometimes forget that we have the power to change the world for Christ by His grace.  We become complacent.  We write ourselves off.  Tonight, we are reminded, as we are every Sunday, that Jesus is alive, not dead; that life conquers death and holiness conquers sin; that God can change the world by His grace active in us.

Tonight, the whole world is changed through Christ.  Tonight, the whole world is changed through God’s grace in you, Maron and Mikayla.  Tonight, the whole world is changed through God’s grace in us.  Tonight, the whole world is changed.  

Entrusting our Family to God

Feast of the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary and Joseph

Last week my sister and brother-in-law celebrated their 9th wedding anniversary.  I remember the day of their wedding pretty clearly: I wasn’t a priest or even a deacon yet, so I was in charge of cantoring the Mass; there was lots of snow on the ground, but it was about 50 degrees, so it was very foggy; there were 5 priests concelebrating the wedding (including now-Bishop Raica, now-Msgr. Vincke, two priests from the Diocese of Lansing and one from the Archdiocese of Detroit; perks, I guess of having a seminarian for a brother, and a dad who works for a parish in DeWitt).

I also remember, a little more than 5 years ago, when they told us that they were pregnant with their first daughter, Evelyn.  I remember wondering how my mom would take being a grandmother, because, generally, grandma is a word that is associated with those who are a bit more mature (a kind way of saying older), and I wasn’t sure my mom was ready for the very real and public acknowledgment that she was, in fact, more mature.  But, I couldn’t have been more wrong!  My mom was very excited to be a grandmother, and she has loved spending her time with her two granddaughters, my niece Evelyn and my niece and goddaughter Adelaide.

We heard in our first reading and our second reading about Abraham becoming a father with his wife, Sarah, for the first time, at an age which would be described as really mature (that is, really old).  And God fulfills His promise to Abraham through Isaac, who is the beginning of the descendants of Abraham more numerous than the stars in the sky.  Abraham must have wondered if God was going to fulfill His promise, but Abraham trusted in God to be true to His word, and it happened.  And that trust was put to the test when God asked Abraham to sacrifice his son, Isaac.  Of course, God stayed Abraham’s hand before he could complete the sacrifice, but even then, Abraham trusted that God could raise from the dead an heir as we hear in the Letter to the Hebrews.  Of course, the author to the Letter to the Hebrews, traditionally St. Paul, sees in Isaac and Abraham a foreshadowing of Jesus, whose Father, God, did not stay the executioner’s hand, but let His Son be sacrificed so that we could go to heaven.

And that’s where our Gospel comes in.  Even as an infant, being offered to the Lord as the firstborn by the sacrifice of two doves, Jesus’ destiny is set.  Simeon, the just man, awaiting the Messiah, sees Jesus and knows that God has, again, been faithful, in not letting Simeon see death until he saw the Messiah.  But he also prophesies that Mary, Jesus’ mother, will have her heart pierced by sorrow, which is certainly the case when Mary had to watch her own Son die, naked on the cross.  

Children are, more often than not, the fruit of family life.  In fact, in order to be married, you have to be open to children (unless you’re past childbearing age).  It’s one of the goods of marriage, and even for those who are of childbearing age who cannot conceive, adoption is a great way of having children.  In either case, having or adopting a child should be the response to God’s will for a husband and wife.  Look what happened to Abraham when he tried to take God’s promise into his own hand: he and his slave, Hagar, conceived Ishmael (Sarah at first said it was ok, but then mysteriously changed her mind after Abraham started spending a lot of time with Ishmael).  When we try to replace God’s plan with our own plan, it tends to mess things up.  And we know, by what Jesus has said through His Church, that natural conception or adoption are the only good ways to bring a child into the world.  Sometimes, yes, that conception has to be helped by hormone treatments or vitamin supplements.  But when processes like in vitro fertilization are used, or when people decide they have a right to have a child on their terms, and not as part of God’s plan, our relationship with God is damaged by the sinful means or by selfish desires.  Children, no matter how they are conceived, are always blessings.  But we always want to be sure that the way we welcome a new life into a family is according to God’s plan, and not only according to our plan.

Instead, the Lord invites us to entrust our families to Him.  And that goes not only for how to welcome a new child in the family, but even before that.  The Church requires that Catholics get married in a Catholic Church, or get a dispensation from the local bishop from that requirement, because as a new family is formed, the Church wants to make sure that God is a part of that decision and is involved in the life of the new family.  And when that family, by natural conception or adoption, brings a new child into the picture, then the family is also invited to help that child with the life of faith by having the child baptized and living out that faith daily with the child.  This means going to Mass each Sunday (don’t worry if the baby or little child acts up or is noisy; it’s what kids do); praying at home before meals and sometime during the day or night (for me it was usually right before bed); showing unconditional love and forgiveness to the best of our ability; treating others as we want to be treated and as we would treat Jesus.  All of those things go into making a family holy, like the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.  And that all starts by trusting God, by having faith in God and His plan, just like Abraham did.  We sin, and we mess up, when we take matters into our own hands, as Abraham himself did a few times.  But God invites us to trust in Him always, and so find salvation for ourselves and our families.

Where's Jesus?

Third Sunday of Easter

           

Some of you may remember a series of books that either you, or your children owned, or maybe even they own one now.  The series was called Where’s Waldo, and these books were picture books.  The point of each illustration was to find a little guy named Waldo, who was in a red and white striped shirt, with a red and white striped stocking cap on and glasses.  Some were easy, some were hard.  For me, it was a great way to pass the time waiting in a doctor’s office, or on a long road trip.

            Our main concern in this life should not be where’s Waldo, but should be where’s Jesus.  You don’t have to buy a set of picture books looking for a guy in a white tunic with a red sash over it, hidden among other people and scenes.  Our vocation is, rather, to find Jesus as He makes Himself known to us.  One primary place to find Jesus is in the Scriptures.

            That’s what St. Peter did as he spoke to the Jews in our first reading today.  Having been filled with the Holy Spirit at Pentecost, Peter proclaimed to the people that Jesus was the Messiah, and that He had been raised from the dead.  St. Peter saw Jesus in the Old Testament, in the only Scriptures that existed at that time.  He saw Jesus in Psalm 16 as he quoted King David: “…because you will not abandon my soul to the netherworld, nor will you suffer your holy one to see corruption.  You have made known to me the paths of life; you will fill me with joy in your presence.”  St. Peter, who had likely read that Psalm countless times as an observant Jew, saw it in a new light, saw the reference to Jesus, who was not allowed to see corruption, nor abandoned to the netherworld, but raised up. 

            The disciples on the road to Emmaus have Jesus Himself open up the Old Testament for them, showing them how it refers to Him.  And while they do not at first recognize Jesus walking with them, their hearts burn within them as He helps them to understand how Jesus fulfills all the prophecies of the Old Testament.  Who knows exactly what passages Jesus explained to them, but we can see from the very beginning, in Genesis, how a redeemer is promised as God tells the serpent, in Adam and Eve’s presence: “‘I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and hers; He will strike at your head, while you strike at his heel.’”  That offspring, striking the head of the serpent, is Jesus. 

In our Eucharistic Prayer that we hear today, the Roman Canon, we hear three important persons from Genesis that refer to or prefigure Jesus: 1) Abel the just, the son of Adam and Eve, who offered a pleasing sacrifice to God, and was yet killed by his own brother, Cain, just as Jesus offered Himself as the acceptable sacrifice, as He was killed by his own; 2) Abraham, our father in faith, whom God asked to sacrifice his beloved, his only son, Isaac, though at the last minute an angel stayed his hand, just as God offered His beloved, His only Son, Jesus, but did not stay His hand; 3) Melchizedek, the king of Salem, which means king of peace, who appears without any lineage, without beginning or end, and is priest of the Most High God, though not of the Levitical priesthood, and who offers bread and wine, just as Jesus, the True Priest, without beginning or end, changes the bread and wine we offer into His Body and Blood, “a holy sacrifice, a spotless victim.”

Or perhaps Jesus spoke to the disciples on the road about the suffering servant chapters of Isaiah, chapters 49, 50, 52, and 53, describing the suffering of Jesus.  Or maybe Jeremiah 20, where all gather to attack the just one and cause trouble for him on every side.  Or maybe Wisdom 2, where the wicked plan to attack the just man, because he is obnoxious to them, and calls himself a child of the Lord, and reproaches them for transgressions of the Law.  Or maybe he explained how Hosea 6 says, “‘Come, let us return to the Lord, For it is he who has rent, but he will heal us; he has struck us, but he will bind our wounds.  He will revive after two days; on the third day he will raise us up.’”  Or maybe he quoted for them Zechariah 12:10: “and they shall look upon him whom they have thrust through, and they shall mourn for him as one mourns for an only son, and they shall grieve over him as one grieves over a firstborn.”

Some of those passages or chapters may sound familiar, as we read them during Lent.  But these are just scratching the surface.  Jesus reveals Himself though the Word of God, the Scriptures.  But can we find Him?  Do we have eyes to see and ears to hear?  Whether it’s the Old or the New Testament, do we come to know Jesus through reading the Bible?  It’s not always easy, but it helps us to know Jesus better.  And for those tricky passages we offer Bible studies, or small faith-sharing groups, to help you to recognize Jesus better and better each time you read the Word of God. 

St. Jerome said that ignorance of Scriptures is ignorance of Christ.  Do we know Jesus?  Is our view of Jesus consistent with how He revealed Himself in the Word of God?  Do we read the Word of God?  And if we do, do our hearts burn within us as Jesus is made known?  If you don’t read the Bible every day, now is the time to start.  Start with the New Testament, just one chapter per night.  I read the entire New Testament in a year, and the entire Old Testament in a year.  It’s doable.  And, especially for those tough passages, pick up a good Bible Study, or join one, or see what the Catechism says about those passages with the Scripture index in the back.  If we are open to the Word of God, which always is meant to prepare us for Jesus making Himself known through the breaking of the bread, the Eucharist, then our lives will be changed, for the better, and we won’t have to hunt for Jesus, but we will recognize Him in the ways He reveals Himself to us.

Mount Moriah

Celebration of the Passion of the Lord

Around 2,000 years before Christ, Abraham placed wood upon his the shoulders of the son of the promise, his beloved son, Isaac, and started up the mountain.  Isaac quickly realized that, while they had the wood, and they had the knife to kill the sacrifice, they had no lamb to place upon the altar.  Isaac, “like a lamb led to the slaughter,” did not know what was happening, and so asked his father where the offering was.  “‘My son,’ Abraham answered, ‘God will provide the sheep for the burnt offering.’  Then the two walked on together.”  When they reach the top of the mountain, Abraham, an old man at this point, binds his son to the wood.  Isaac must have willingly let himself be bound, because Abraham was more than 100 years old.  And then Abraham took out his knife, ready to sacrifice the son of the promise: the promise that God would make of Abraham through Isaac father of many nations.  But, as we know, an angel of the Lord stayed Abraham’s hand, and did not allow him to sacrifice his own beloved son, but provided a ram in place of Isaac.  Abraham was rewarded for his faith in God, even to the point of letting his son die, and truly became the Father of Many Nations.  Isaac, who was as good as dead, was given new life as he was unbound from the wood.

Fast-forward about 1,000 years, and a temple is built, according to tradition, over the spot where Abraham had been willing to sacrifice Isaac.  It was there, at the place of an example of faith in God such that it put Abraham in right relationship with God, or justified him as St. Paul says, that the sacrifices of the Mosaic covenant would be offered, to remind God of the faithfulness of the Father of the Israelites.  Just outside of that place, almost 1,000 years later, another Son, a beloved Son, would be fastened to wood once more, and offered up by His Father as a sacrifice.

Isaac had asked where the animal was to sacrifice, perhaps his voice starting to crack as he began to realize what could lie ahead of him.  Jesus cried out, “Eli, eli, lema sabachtani?  My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?” as the full weight of sin and the punishment that it deserves came crashing upon Him.

But where was the voice of the angel?  Where was the heavenly messenger telling the Father to stay His hand and not touch a hair on the boy’s head, and to replace the sacrifice of a Son with the sacrifice of a ram?  As the Roman soldier raised his arm, ready to hammer the nail into the exhausted flesh of Jesus, which had been scourged to a bloody mess and weakened on the Via Dolorosa, the sorrowful way, no angel stopped that hand, and the only sound was the pounding of the hammer.

Abraham proved his love for God by being willing to sacrifice his own beloved son.  God proved his love for Abraham and his posterity, not just by generation but by faith, not only by being willing to sacrifice His Only Beloved Son, but also allowing it to happen to save us from our sins.  All of the sins that came before that dark Friday, and all of the sins that would follow after it, were washed away as the crimson blood flowed from the mangled body of Jesus. 

What are our sacrifices since last Easter?  What are we willing to sacrifice in the year to come?  In the past year I have buried a father of a family who left behind a wife and 5 kids, as well as my own uncle; I have had friends discover they had cancer; today I bring my frustrations, my joys, my sins, all of who I am.  Many of you have lost loved ones, have found out family or friends are sick and suffering; some of you have lost jobs, or have children who have wandered away from the Church; you have your own frustrations, your joys, your sins, and all that makes you who you are.  Today, bring them here to our own Mount Moriah, and offer sacrifice to God; not the sacrifice of your progeny, but sacrifice of your life united to Jesus on the cross.  Offer to God not only the evil you want to get rid of, but even the things you want to hold on to with your whole heart.  Bring them to the wood which is prepared for this altar. 

Jesus says to us, from just outside Mount Moriah, “‘I thirst.’”  He thirsts for you, He thirsts for me.  Not just part of you or part of me, but all of you and all of me.  Have the faith of Abraham.  Be willing to offer your all to God.  “Take courage and be stouthearted, all you who hope in the Lord.”