Living the Paschal Mystery

Solemnity of the Ascension of the Lord
    [In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.]  Sometimes we use words in the Church that are very important, but whose meaning is not always clear.  For example, in December we celebrate the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary.  But many Catholics think that it refers to the Annunciation, when Jesus was conceived by the power of the Holy Spirit in the womb of the Blessed Mother, while it really refers to our Blessed Mother’s conception without original sin.  Another phrase that is especially important today is Paschal Mystery. 

The place from which Jesus ascended in Jerusalem

    The Catechism of the Catholic Church defines the Paschal Mystery as, “Christ’s work of redemption accomplished primarily by his Passion, death, Resurrection, and glorious Ascension.”  Today, as we celebrate the Ascension of our Lord, we celebrate the closing out of the Paschal Mystery.  Paschal means related to the Passover, and Mystery, in this sense, means the great work of God that is invisible, but which was manifested in visible ways (the suffering, death, resurrection, and ascension of the Lord).  Christ’s Passover saved us from death and brought us from slavery in sin to freedom in the heaven, just as the Jewish Passover saved them from the angel of death wiping out the first born in Egypt by the blood of the unblemished lamb, and inaugurated their flight from Egypt, that place of slavery, into the Promised Land.
    But while the Jewish Passover happened some 3,450 years ago, and the fulfillment of that Passover in Christ happened some 2,000 years ago, God does not relegate the Paschal Mystery to the past.  No, we celebrate it each time we come to Mass, and especially each Sunday, the Lord’s Day, as we enter into the moments of our redemption in a mystical way, and participate, as it were, in our own redemption because we join ourselves to Christ’s Passion, death, Resurrection, and Ascension at each Mass.  We do not simply remember what Christ did for us; God through visible signs, allows us to join in what Christ did for us so that we can share the fruits of that Paschal Mystery, which is resurrection and glorification. 
    But as disciples of Christ, God calls us to live that Paschal Mystery each day of our life, and not just in the church building.  Each day we have the opportunity of living out in ourselves what Christ did once for all some 2,000 years ago.  This is what St. Paul means when he says in the first chapter of Colossians: “in my flesh I am filling up what is lacking in the afflictions of Christ on behalf of his body, which is the church.”  So how do we live each day in the Paschal Mystery?  How do we participate in Christ’s Passion, death, Resurrection, and Ascension?
    We participate in the Passion and death of the Lord in our daily lives through the sufferings that come to us.  We don’t have to seek out suffering.  It readily makes itself available to us.  Suffering, by itself, is a lack.  But suffering united to Christ’s becomes redemptive by participating in His Paschal Mystery.  We all have various sufferings each day.  Maybe we hate our job; maybe our family drives us up a wall; maybe our sports team lost; maybe gas is more expensive than we would like it to be; maybe we lack trust in our political leadership.  However we experience it, we suffer daily.  But when we unite it to Christ, when we suffer in obedience to the will of the Father and seek not to do our own will, but “the will of the one who sent me,” we participate in redemption, both of ourselves and of the whole world.  This is what the sisters meant when they would say, “Offer it up.”  Now, I know we can use that phrase to basically mean, “stop whining,” but in its truest sense, that phrase reminds us to live out the Paschal Mystery, to suffer (the passion) and die (the crucifixion) to what we want and offer that pain to the Father, who receives it as an offering of love. 
    We participate in the Resurrection when we see God change our suffering that we have offered to Him into new life.  This is when we offer up that bad driver and find that our heart actually grows in love and mercy for whoever he or she may be.  This is when someone at work commends us and maybe even gives us a raise when we think they don’t notice the work we do.  This is when the child who has brought you to the brink of insanity and tested your patience to its last limit runs up to you, smiles, and gives you a hug saying, “I love you, mommy.”  When we offer our sufferings to the Father through Christ the Son in the power of the Holy Spirit, God transforms them into something which gives new life, just as the Father transforms ordinary bread and wine into the Body and Blood of His Son through the power of the Holy Spirit when we offer them to Him. 
    Our participation in the Ascension is something finds its fulfillment when the end of our earthly ministry is over, just as it did the same for Christ at the end of His earthly ministry.  Christ’s Ascension is His glorification, because the Father raises Christ up into glory at His right hand.  For us, the fullness of the ascension happens when we have done everything we can to offer our lives to the Father, when He has given us new life through those sufferings united to Him, and when He welcomes us into glory in heaven.  Christ led the way for us, but He wants us to follow Him–in His suffering and death; in His resurrection; and lastly, in His Ascension.  God does not keep glory for Himself, but shares it with us, according to our nature.  What a joy to allow God to raise us up to the fullness of who we are meant to be, a reality which can only be completed in heaven. 
    But that’s our hope, a hope based in following Christ, not just in His teaching (but certainly those), but also in His Paschal Mystery.  May we rejoice in this Paschal Mystery each time we assemble for Mass, and especially on the Lord’s Day, but may we also live out that Paschal Mystery every day of our lives, suffering and dying with God, allowing God to raise us to new life, and waiting for God the Father to glorify us with His Son, our Lord Jesus Christ, who lives and reigns in the unity of the Holy Spirit, for ever and ever.  Amen.  

"Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani?"

Palm Sunday of the Lord’s Passion
    [In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.].  In today’s Responsorial Psalm/Tract, we hear the words of Psalm 22 (21), which are also echoed in Matthew and Mark’s account of the Passion.  Today I wanted to reflect on these words, words which sounded forth from the lips of Christ as He hung on the cross for our salvation.

The place of the Crucifixion

    The first words do not sound appropriate for our Lord to say.  How could the consubstantial, co-eternal Son of the Father say, “My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?”  How could God abandon Himself?  Christ, as He hung on the cross, felt the full weight of sin in His human nature.  Sin does not simply reflect a choice we make contrary to what God wills.  Sin is, in some sense, a separation from God.  Even venial sins make a momentary choice where we do not choose God, who is holiness Himself, as we hear from the Books of Isaiah and Revelation: “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God of Hosts!”  So when we choose that which is contrary to holiness, even if it is but for a second, we choose against God and we alienate ourselves from Him.  Our Lord, though He had no sin Himself, took upon Himself the consequences for sin of all time and space, and so felt, in His human nature, the horrible absence of God, though, of course, He remained God through all of His Passion.
    But to put these words of the psalmist on his lips also demonstrated His total union with us in all things but sin.  He experienced what we experience when we know we have wandered away from God: that lack of true happiness, that darkness, that void in our hearts that come from choosing lesser goods over our ultimate good. 
    And there is a beauty and a strength for us that come from the knowledge that our God loved us so much that He would humble Himself to experience the pain of sin, though He knew not sin Himself.  We can never truly understand the depths of another’s pain, since each person’s pain is unique, just like each person is.  Yet, it does help when someone we know has been through a similar circumstance, and knows what it is to lose as we have lost.  God can give us that comfort because He has been there, and suffered what we suffer when we do not live up to our supernatural purpose. 
    In saying this one line, Christ included the entire psalm, just as we sometimes will include in our conversation entire lyrics with simply one line.  So Christ also includes the later words within this psalm, “I will proclaim your name to my brethren; / in the midst of the assembly I will praise you: / “You who fear the Lord, praise him; / all you descendants of Jacob, give glory to him; / revere him, all you descendants of Israel!”  In the midst of this pain and sense of abandonment, our Lord also directs His suffering as an offering of praise to God among His brothers and sisters.  Indeed, we use the word assembly, but the Hebrew word is qahal, which is translated into Greek as 𝜀𝜅𝜅𝜆𝜂𝜎𝜄𝛼, whence we get the English word “ecclesial,” meaning belonging to the church.  In the midst of the pain and suffering, Christ praises God the Father in the Church, and invites God’s People to worship Him.
    Pain and suffering do not end in themselves.  Even these are gifts that can be offered to God and lead to praise and worship.  How?  As verse 20 states, “But you, O Lord, be not far from me; / O my help, hasten to aid me.”  God, even in the darkest times of our life, even in the darkest times of human history, past, present, or future, does not abandon us, even when it feels like it.  God the Father was ever present with his Son, Jesus Christ; the Father was not far from the Son, nor is He far from us.  And God sends us help to persevere through our suffering.  When we suffer, united to Christ, our suffering becomes redemptive, whether for ourselves or for others.  Pain gives way to healing; death gives way to life.  And isn’t that precisely what this week is all about?
    So, in the midst of our suffering, may this psalm be on our lips, just as it was on our Lord’s.  May we not stop at the first verse, the feeling of abandonment by God, but continue throughout the entire psalm, proclaiming in the midst of the Church God’s goodness and His proximity to us even when things look darkest, and giving glory to God: the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

LOVE

Quinquagesima

    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  Yesterday at our Mardi Gras Dinner Dance, the focus of the music was not just celebrating before Lent began, but love.  There were love songs everywhere, and different descriptions of love.  Whether the dances were upbeat, or whether it was a chance to slow down, most of the music had to deal with love.
    There are a great many love songs, both past and present, in the genre of country music and the genre of pop or lite-rock.  Songs express movements of the heart that words sometimes cannot adequately convey.  Songs like “All for Love” by Rod Stewart; or “Through the Years” by Kenny Rogers; songs like “At Last” by Etta James; or “I Just Called to Say I Love You” by Stevie Wonder.  There’s even the classic song entitled “LOVE” which many crooners have sung, or the more recent “Love Story” by Taylor Swift.
    In all these songs, love is described as some kind of reaction in the individual, a rush of warm, gooey goodness, a delight in the other.  It is, often something that another does to the self, an affirmation of goodness.  And even St. Thomas describes love (as often quoted by Bishop Robert Barron) as willing the good of the other.  But St. Paul the Apostle also describes love in the epistle we heard today, and while I’m not sure you could quite put it to a pop tune or a country melody, because it is the Word of God, it should guide how we understand love in our daily lives, more so than any secular music does.
    This Pauline hymn of love talks about the actions that love accomplishes.  One loves by demonstrating patience and kindness.  Love does not allow envy to enter in, nor seeks ambition over the other.  Love does not lead to anger, nor to evil, nor joy in sin, but, rather, rejoices in the truth.  Love “bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.  Love never fails.”  You could have everything in the world, but if you don’t have love you have nothing, and this even includes spiritual gifts like speaking in tongues or prophesying and the ability to move mountains.  Love is not about me but about thee.  
    And as we come to this Quinquagesima Sunday, this last Sunday before we enter into Lent, we see the love of our Lord as He prepares for the Passion ahead of him.  He takes His special friends, His Apostles, and speaks to them aside from everyone else to let them know that they are going to Jerusalem so that the Son of Man can suffer and die.  Love draws our Lord to a task harder than we could ever imagine, not because of how painful it was physically, but because in Christ, it is not just a human going to suffer who suffers each day, but Life itself who was going to die, Holiness Incarnate who would take upon Himself the sins, not just of those around Him, but from every time and place, from the foundation of the world until its final consummation at the end of time.  We suffer and we go from being to non-being because we know that we are finite and we will have a limit on this earth.  Christ was the creator of the heavens and the earth, the eternal Logos whom the heavens and earth cannot contain, yet who went down to the depths of hell in order to save us from eternal damnation.  

    That is love.  It is not just the way you look at me; the only one I see; the very, very extraordinary, or even more than anyone that you adore.  It is so valuing the other that no cost is too high to pay for the good of the other.  Love means there’s no mountain high enough, no valley low enough, no river wide enough to keep us from sacrificing ourselves for the good of the beloved.  It goes beyond delight or physical attraction.  Love goes beyond the way another makes us feel, as good as that can be.  Love means doing whatever it takes for the other person’s benefit, with the highest benefit being, of course, eternal salvation.
    When we think about young love, we do think about the strong flames of passion, the silly and extravagant gestures of a couple who cannot help but smile at each other when they come into each other’s presence.  And that is good, and there is a time for that.  But loves proves itself, proves whether it is merely delight and infatuation, when there smiles do not readily come, but tears are shed because of struggle and suffering.  There is a young couple I know who was dating during COVID.  I knew that the young man was moving towards love for the young woman when the young woman contracted COVID, and he chose to be with her so that she would have someone to care for her, and would not be alone, though it meant the possibility of contracting the virus himself and not being able to see his family because he, too, would have to be quarantined.
    Love is staying up long nights to help a spouse study for an important exam, even though one has to be at work the next morning at 6 a.m.  Love is the mother who holds out her hand to catch the vomit from a sick child.  Love is working at a job that is neither exciting nor fulfilling, but knowing that the work will provide a roof, food, and clothing for the family.  I think grandparents are often beautiful examples of love, because, in many cases, the fires that we identify with young love, are not as strong, and yet the heat of that love is kept in white-hot coals.  Have you ever noticed how a couple who has been married for a long time can just sit with each other, perhaps holding hands, and simply delight in each other’s presence?  That kind of love is the result of each spouse knowing that he or she has sacrificed over the years for the good of the other, and the appreciation of the other for that sacrifice.  
    As we prepare to enter into Lent, we recall, once more, the love that God had for us, the love that emptied itself first by becoming man, and then by sacrificing that Incarnation on the altar of the cross so that, by His immolation, we would gain wholeness; by His Death we would gain life.  May God open our eyes to see clearly the great gift we were given in our Lord’s Passion and Death, so that we may also merit to be with the Beloved of our souls in the kingdom of heaven, where God is all in all: the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  Amen. 

The Pilgrimage of Holy Week

Palm Sunday of the Lord’s Passion

Cathedral of
Santiago de Compostela

When I was a junior in college, I had the great opportunity to study in Rome for 5 months starting in October.  It was a beautiful experience in and of itself.  But before we settled into Rome, most of the seminarians who were also studying in Rome for those five months and I began a pilgrimage in Spain called the Camino de Santiago de Compostela.  It’s one of the oldest pilgrimages in Christianity, and the goal is the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela, where the mortal remains of St. James the Greater are kept (for non-Spanish speakers, Santiago is James or St. James in Spanish).  We walked 111 km., the minimum to receive the plenary indulgence, but you can take a pilgrim route beginning in most major cities in Europe, and even as far away as the Holy Land.  But even in just those 111 km., I was able to experience a beautiful country, hills, valleys, injuries, friendship, distrust of other travelers, and the final joy of reaching the Cathedral and attending Mass there.  

Pilgrimages are meant to give Christians a microcosm of the life of a disciple: a long distance, beauty, hard times, easy times, injuries, friendship, distrust, and the final joy of reaching the heavenly destination with the eternal worship of God.  While we’re not going anywhere physically today, we do get to go on a spiritual pilgrimage this week, this Holy Week.  We walk with Jesus on His pilgrimage to his suffering and death, and then we will be able to rejoice in the destination of that pilgrimage: the Resurrection.  

We start that pilgrimage today in joy and triumph as the Messiah enters His city, fulfilling the prophecy of Zechariah that the Messiah would enter upon an ass’s colt.  The beginning of the pilgrimage is filled with the excitement of the crowd that all of God’s promises were about to be fulfilled, though they knew not the horrible way in which that would happen.  We just had a taste of the hills, the tough part of the pilgrimage, as we heard St. Mark’s account of the Passion.  We get a foretaste of what lies ahead of us in the days that will follow.

There is no substitution for walking a pilgrimage.  Of course, to arrive at the starting point, pilgrims these days often have to fly and/or drive.  But then there is walking–walking with Jesus.  We are not a walking people as much anymore.  We have planes, trains, and automobiles to take us wherever we want to go, and trams and subways to take us the shorter distances.  But on this pilgrimage there is no shortcut, no easy way to get there.  To truly experience Jesus’ pilgrimage, we need to walk with Him, day by day, and take in His experience.  To skip immediately past the Last Supper on Holy Thursday, past the crucifixion on Good Friday, to Easter means losing some of the power of the Resurrection, because the sweetness of new life is only accessible to those who have also known suffering and death.  

So I want to invite you this week to as many Masses and liturgies as you can attend.  We will have our usual Mass and adoration on Tuesday beginning at 5:15 p.m.; Mass Wednesday morning at 8 a.m.; the Mass of the Lord’s Supper on Holy Thursday at 7 p.m.; the celebration of the Passion on Good Friday at 3 p.m.; the sorrowful prayer of Tenebrae Good Friday at 9 p.m.; and the joy of the Resurrection at the Easter Vigil on Holy Saturday at 8:30 p.m., or the Easter Sunday Masses at 8 or 10 a.m.  Very few things are more important than the Masses this week.  Very few other things will help you prepare for Easter quite like the Masses will.  Of course, some of you can’t make it to Mass because of work, health, or other issues.  If you can’t attend Mass, at least read the daily readings either from our parish app or at usccb.org/readings.  I especially want to encourage you to attend the Easter Vigil Holy Saturday night.  The symbols of Easter speak quite loudly, and we will be there to support those becoming Catholic–the newest members of our parish.  

Walk with Jesus on His pilgrimage.  Walk the road that He walked for you.  Walk the pilgrimage from suffering, to death, to new life.