Looking for Love at a Well

Twentieth Sunday in Ordinary Time–First Scrutiny

    While our elect are not old enough to have seen this movie, or maybe even heard of it (and, to be honest, I wasn’t even born when it came out), one of the top movies in 1980 was “Urban Cowboy,” starring John Travolta and Debra Winger.  IMDB gives the following synopsis: “Bud Davis is a country boy who moves to the city to visit his uncle and his family. He starts hanging out at Gilley's, the popular nightclub owned by Mickey Gilley himself. He takes a job at the oil refinery where his uncle works, hoping to save enough money to buy some land. He also meets a cowgirl named Sissy, they dance together and fall in love. When a bull-riding contest at Gilley's is announced, Bud decides to sign up. Can he win the contest?”  And one of the hit songs from that hit movie, which has continued its popularity through the past 45 years is “Looking For Love,” most famously sung by Johnny Lee.
    The first verse and refrain say, “Well, I spent a lifetime lookin’ for you, / Single bars and good time lovers were never true. / Playin’ a fool’s game, hopin’ to win, / And tellin’ those sweet lies and losin’ again. // I was lookin’ for love in all the wrong places / Lookin’ for love in too many faces / Searchin’ their eyes / Lookin’ for traces of what I’m dreaming of. / Hoping to find a friend and a lover / I’ll bless the day I discover another heart / Lookin’ for love.”  
    The Gospel passage of the Samaritan woman at the well is precisely the story of a woman looking for love in all the wrong places.  She has had five husbands, and the man she’s with now is not her husband.  But in her encounter with Jesus, she finally finds true love, a love that doesn’t give her a lesson in leavin’, to quote another country song.
    Raegan, you, and Skyler, who will be baptized with you, have been searching not for an earthly love, though you both have also found that, but for a love that is not of this world.  God created you in love and has sustained you in love since your conception.  He has wanted to be in a deep and loving relationship with you which you began as you were welcomed into the Order of Catechumens some months ago.  And now God prepares you for the culmination of your preparation, and the beginning of a new life as His adopted child through Holy Baptism, which you will receive in a few short weeks.  

    Like with the Samaritan woman, this has been a dialogue between you and Jesus.  Over these next two weeks as we celebrate the scrutinies, the Lord will invite you to put behind you all the false lovers of your past who have not given you true happiness, or the distractions which have kept you from the deep trust that the Lord desires for all His children.  I will ask, after the homily, the Holy Spirit to put away from you all that is fallen, so that you can be truly prepared for the indwelling of God and His grace that will happen at your baptism.
    And once you are baptized, you will have a spring of living water welling up inside you, a source of continuing grace that is meant to refresh and strengthen you, just as water refreshes and strengthens us, especially in the heat of the day, when the rays of temptation oppress us the most.  But unlike a well, to which we have to return again and again, this water will truly be inside you (though the waters of baptism will be poured on your head on the outside) so that all you will need to do is go to you inner room, where Christ is, to deepen you communion with Him.  
    While the day of your baptism is a big day, and certainly a cause of celebration, baptism continues day after day, so you are not just pledging yourself to God for a day, but for a lifetime.  Jesus changed the Samaritan woman’s entire life, and Jesus wants to change your entire life, taking away from you all that is fallen, and increasing your joys and walking with you in the midst of sorrows so that you do not carry those burdens alone.  
    And like the Samaritan woman, your responsibility given to you with this great gift of new life in Christ through baptism, will be to tell and show others just what God has done for you so that they, too, can believe.  Your new life, lived for Christ each day, will speak to others about the importance of the spring of water welling up inside you, and the importance of doing your best to abandon those distractions and false lovers who promise you true joy but can only deliver momentary pleasure.  
    And we, your parish, are happy to walk with you, not only through these scrutinies and in your baptism, but also in the weeks, months, and years ahead where we will also help each other to abandon our false lovers, the sins that we turn to when we turn away from God.  Just as your witness rejuvenates us, so we hope that our witness will help strengthen you as we all walk towards the springs of eternal life in heaven.  May God strengthen you through your holy resolve, and help you to find love in all the right places.  

A Relationship with the Truth

Third Sunday of Lent-First Scrutiny

    In high school I was on our own Quiz Bowl team (yes, I was a nerd).  And Lansing Catholic High School participated in the PBS TV station televised games called “Quiz Busters.”  I remember being in the championship game one year, with a one-year tuition scholarship to MSU on the line.  We were in the final Lightning Round, with either team in a position to win, and the question was asked, “In the Sistine Chapel, what color smoke…” to which I buzzed in and yelled “White!”, anticipating the rest of the question, which answer was right, and helped us win the “Quiz Busters” Championship against another school which was much larger than Lansing Catholic.
    I like to have the right answers, and there is something good about knowing the truth.  But having the right answers isn’t all there is, as we see in the Gospel today, this long Gospel that we use each year that we have an elect, a catechumen chosen by the Bishop for baptism at Easter.  The Samaritan woman has the right answers, at least most of them.  She knows that Jews do not drink from the same containers as Samaritan women, because the samaritans were pagans and it could render the Jew unclean.  She knows that to have water, you have to have a bucket to draw it out.  She gives a technically right answer when she says that she doesn’t have a husband.  And she says that Jews and Samaritans don’t agree on how and where to worship.
    But the Lord isn’t only looking for right answers.  He is looking for a relationship with her.  Now, Jesus also identifies Himself as the Truth.  So I’m not trying to say that the truth doesn’t matter.  It does.  But the truth comes in the context of a relationship with Truth Incarnate.  Jesus is trying to give the Samaritan woman eternal life, and all she can focus on is trying to give correct answers and trip Jesus up in theological debates.

    The Samaritan woman, upon entering into relationship with Jesus, recognizes that He knows her.  She says, “‘Come see a man who told me everything I have done.’”  Jesus knows her, more deeply than anyone else, though He just met her at the well.  The Samaritan woman heard Him say that He is the Christ, the Messiah, who will let everyone know what they are to believe and how they are to worship.  
    Dylan, as an elect, God already knows you.  But over these past months He has drawn you in to know Him better.  He knows everything you have done: the good, the bad, and the ugly.    But He wants to be in a relationship with you.  You have learned many important things over the past months about what it means to be Catholic and how we Catholics are called to follow Christ in our daily lives.  Being a friend of Jesus, and even more than a friend, a sibling with Jesus, means doing things that will strengthen your relationship with Him and avoiding anything that would harm that relationship with Him.  
    Through Holy Baptism, Confirmation, and reception of the Eucharist, the love of God will be poured into your heart, as St. Paul said in our second reading, “through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.”  You will become an adopted son of God the Father, and God will dwell within you as in a temple.  
    As God prepares you for this, He draws you closer and closer to Himself.  The Samaritan woman changes the way she addresses Jesus as the conversation develops: she starts by calling Him “a Jew”; then, “Sir”; then “the Messiah.”  You, too, have come to know Jesus more deeply in the passing weeks and months, to be at a place where you are almost ready to profess Him as God and Savior.  
    And sometimes, like with the Samaritan woman, some of what Jesus the Savior has revealed has been painful.  I’m sure the Samaritan woman wasn’t too pleased when Christ said, “‘You are right in saying, “I do not have a husband.”  For you have had five husbands, and the one you have now is not your husband.’”  But Christ reveals our brokenness because He can heal us, and wants to heal us.  
    But this process of growing in relationship with Christ won’t end with your reception of the Sacraments of Initiation.  All of us here hopefully try to grow in our relationship with Christ each day.  Yes, we try to know the right answers, but we also try to be a good brother or sister of Christ and son or daughter of the Father.  Sometimes we miss the point, like the Samaritan woman.  Sometimes the Lord needs to convict us of sin, or sinful habits.  But everything the Lord does gives us the opportunity to grow closer to Him.  May we not squander the opportunities the Lord gives us to deepen our relationship with Him, especially this Lent, but drink from the living water which flows from the wounded side of Christ. 

What We Have

Third Sunday of Lent
    A recent song that I heard frequently a few months ago was thought provoking, and even brought me to some soul searching.  The song is “What I Have” by an up-and-coming country star named Kelsea Ballerini.  She reflects on this constant drive to have more and more, and then juxtaposes it with what she has.  The last two lines of the refrain are, “I’m doing alright right where I’m at / With what I have.”  And then the last refrain has a slight twist from the earlier ones: “I got the air, good eyes to see / Got so much more than I’ll even need. / Even the bad days ain’t all that bad / With what I have.”  
    What do you have?  What do you need?  Our readings point us to three things that we need: water, hope, and living water.  The Israelites are on their way to Mt. Sinai, but are tired of walking.  They saw mighty works from God, including the crossing of the Red Sea, but they doubt God’s care for them, so they cry out for water.  God, in turn, gives them water when Moses strikes the rock.  But the place still garners the name Massah and Meribah “because the Israelites quarreled there and tested the Lord.”  They chose to doubt God, even though He had taken care of them and led them out of slavery in Egypt, and then saved them at the Red Sea and crushed their enemies.  They weren’t content with what they had, which was God.  

    And our Gospel shows us the exchange between a Samaritan, a non-Israelite, and Jesus.  The Samaritan woman doesn’t know what she has, or better, whom she has.  First she wants the living water that Jesus describes, but then she balks when Jesus starts to confront her past and call her to conversion.  She tries to steer the conversation away from her, and engages in what is still the easiest way to get people distracted in conversation: bring up a contentious point of doctrine.  She has the Messiah, but doesn’t realize it at first.  Jesus knows both what she has, but also what she lacks, and seeks to fill up what she lacks so that she can be satisfied, just as He gave the Chosen People what they lacked in the desert when they were going to the Promised Land.
    We are arguably the most affluent society in human history.  This is not to make light of the real struggles of the poor, the homeless, the hungry and thirsty, but so many of us have more than what we need.  We have clothes, and often buy clothes that we don’t even need.  We have a house, and some even have two or three.  We have modes of transportation that are, more or less, reliable, and can take us across States and countries.  Most people have a phone which can bring up any type of information that we desire at a moment’s notice.  We have grocery stores that provide food, not only what is in-season locally, but foods from exotic parts of the world that we could never grow here.  Many of us are used to taking vacations when we feel like it.  
    And yet, with all that we have, in 2020, 45,979 Americans died from suicide, out of 1.2 million attempts.  Suicide is the 12th leading cause of death of Americans.  How could so many who have so much seek to end their own lives?  At least part of the answer is connected to how many people have stopped practicing their faith, have walked away from God.  They are like the Samaritan woman at the well, she’s thirsty, but no matter how many times she draws water, it never satisfies.  And then along comes this stranger, this foreigner, who promises her a water which will satisfy, but she can’t bring herself to accept it at first, because she won’t trust in God’s help.  She’d rather argue about where to worship and who the Messiah is at first than accept the gift of new life that God is offering.
    St. Paul says that we have hope, a hope which does not disappoint, “because the love of God has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.”  Hope is one of the greatest things we can have (though it’s not really a commodity) because it keeps us going.  And we do not have hope because of our affluence, or even because of what we have achieved, but because of what God has done for us.  “For Christ, while we were still helpless, died at the appointed time for the ungodly.”  Jesus sacrificed Himself so that we could have the one thing we truly need: Him.  He had been doing that from the beginning.  Indeed, St. Paul writes about the first reading we heard in his first letter to the Corinthians: [the Jews] “drank from a spiritual rock that followed them, and the rock was Christ.”  Even in the Old Testament, Christ was prefiguring the gift of Himself when God provided water for the Jews in the desert.  That same gift, the gift of Himself, Jesus gave to the Samaritan woman at the well, and she eventually allowed herself to receive it, which gave her so great a joy that she forgot about the water she had gone to draw from the well.  
    [My dear Elect and Candidate: throughout this past year, you have noted your need for God.  You have sensed Him offering you the living water, and you have responded.  As you celebrate this first scrutiny, Christ seeks to have you acknowledge your past sins, not to condemn you, but that He might heal them in you.  For it is only when we acknowledge that we have strayed from God, that God can heal us and draw us back to Him.  God wants you to have Him, because if you have Him, you have all that you truly need.  And even if you had everything tangible thing the world had to offer, if you don’t have Him, you have nothing.]
    We all have a lot more than any other previous generation had.  The temptations to focus on what we don’t have or what our neighbors have can easily trip us up.  Instead, let’s focus on strengthening what we truly need to be happy: God.  Because as long as we have God, “I’m doing alright right where I’m at / With what I have.”

Corona and the Well

Homily for the Third Sunday of Lent
    Probably at least in the back of your mind, and very likely in the front of your mind, is COVID-19, the Coronavirus.  I saw a meme the other day that said something to the effect of: Did you ever wonder what it was like to live in the 14th century?  Well, we have two popes and a plague.  Obviously, the spread of this illness is not really a laughing matter.  But the fact remains that it’s on our minds, even here in church.
    As a reminder, if you’re feeling ill, we ask you, as an act of charity, not to come to church.  Wash your hands frequently.  We’re not holding hands during the Our Father (just fold them in a prayer position), nor doing the exchange of peace, and, for the time being, we’re not going to distribute the Blood of Christ at Mass (recall that, even if you only receive under one species, you receive the entire Jesus).  We also have hand sanitizer at the main entrance that you can feel free to use.
    Sometimes people will take the opportunity to say that large bad events are punishments from God.  Whether it’s a new virus, a hurricane, an earthquake, or any natural disaster, some are quick to pile on the idea that God is punishing us for something.  This isn’t really a Catholic view of how God works; there is rarely a one-to-one correlation between something bad happening and God being unhappy (just look at the Book of Job, or especially at the suffering of Jesus).  But, in times like these, we can take the opportunity to see what we value, and in what or whom we place our trust.
    Because, throughout the history of the Church, saints have pointed out that bad things happening are a reminder to us that God is in charge, and we are not.  Again, not that God sends us calamities, but when they happen, they remind us that, even with all our technological advances, we are not the masters of the universe, or even of our own lives.  God can certainly use disasters and outbreaks to turn back to Him and act in our life in a way that we recognize that God is God, and we are not.
    But something like the outbreak of COVID-19 also tells us where our top priorities are.  I will admit, I wanted to watch Powers Catholic boys basketball play in the District Championship last Friday.  I’m sure there are many more who wanted to see the Big Ten tournament or the NCAA tournament, even just on TV.  As I write this, I just saw that the Master’s Tournament, a tradition unlike any other, was postponed.  School won’t be back in session until 6 April.  Certainly, there’s the disappointment of buying tickets (sometimes very expensive tickets) and the loss of the expense of traveling, but is that the most important thing in our life? 
    And where do we look to as far being the base of our hope?  While we certainly need to be prudent as far buying supplies to last us if we get quarantined, how many rolls of toilet paper do we need?  Are we looking to the government to save us?  The government certainly has a role in protecting us and advising us on best practices, but our hope is not in supplies, or a 401K, or even the government.  Jesus invites us to make Him our only hope.
    And that is where the readings tie in.  In the first reading, the people do not put their hope in God.  They’re tired, worn out, and thirsty, and they complain that God is not taking care of them enough.  Massah and Meribah becomes in Jewish Biblical talk the signs of a lack of trust in God.  But God does provide for them, all throughout out their sojourn in the desert. 
    Or the Samaritan woman.  She’s in a desperate situation.  Drawing water in the middle of the day was a sign of being a social outcast, much like having a cough right now.  She’s an outcast probably because of her multiple husbands.  She put her trust in other men.  But when she encounters Jesus, He invites her to put her trust in Him, so that she can have living water and never thirst again.  It takes Jesus talking with her a while to get her to that point, but she gets there, and realizes that Jesus is the answer to the questions of her life.  The same is true for us now.  While fear and panic is common, natural, we may even say, we are called to the supernatural, to trust in God, even as we follow best practices for good hygiene.  God invites us to trust in Him.
    Illnesses are also scary because they remind us of our mortality.  Especially in our culture, we avoid death like the plague, if you’ll pardon the expression.  We fight it with pills, creams, injections, and anything else we can think of.  But, for a faithful disciple, we need not fear death.  It is a transition to, our hope tells us, new life in Christ.  The saints often remind us to keep death before our eyes daily, not to be dour or depressed, but to make sure that our choices reflect with whom we want to spend eternity.
    Let’s be prudent in our choices to avoid contracting or spreading COVID-19.  But let’s also not fear or act out of panic.  May we come to the well of God’s wisdom, and draw the living water that Jesus promises to provide us.  May our hope not be in any thing or comfort that the world says it can provide, but in Jesus Christ, our true hope and joy.

The Conversion Process

Fifth Sunday of Lent-3rd Scrutiny

For the past two weeks at this Mass, we have had the readings from Year A.  We do this because of the scrutinies, the rites by which we ask God to cast out from our Elect any evil which is in them, and to prepare them for the Easter Sacraments–Baptism, Confirmation, and the Eucharist.  In one sense, Bilal, our Elect, these readings have been specifically for you.  

Each Gospel passage (and the other readings as well that point to it) has hit home a theme of conversion, which is the process which has led you here.  On the third Sunday of Lent, we heard about the woman at the well, the woman who came to know Jesus more deeply as Jesus conversed with her.  He went from “a Jew,” to “Sir,” to “the Prophet,” to “the Messiah.”  And all of that happened because of a conversation with Jesus at a well.  Jesus was thirsting, not so much for the water, but for her.

On the fourth Sunday of Lent, we heard about the man born blind.  The man cannot see, and yet recognizes that Jesus is not an ordinary person.  Never before, he tells the Pharisees, has a man cured a man who was blind from birth.  And yet that is what Jesus did.  Because Jesus opens the eyes of the man, the man believes in Jesus, while the Pharisees, whose eyes were opened but hearts were closed, remain blind in their unbelief.

Today, the fifth Sunday of Lent, we hear about Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead.  Martha, the woman who was so concerned with serving Jesus that she forget to actually spend time with him, now is the sister who has faith that Jesus can do anything, that Jesus is Himself the Resurrection and the life.  And, sure enough, even though Lazarus was in the tomb for four days, deader than dead, Jesus brought Lazarus back to life.  

These readings were not chosen on accident.  Holy Mother Church, reflecting on her newborn children, sprung to life from the waters of baptism, saw in these three Gospel passages a message so important for you, our Elect, that she bid them to be read every year, even when it would interrupt the usual cycle of readings.

And She did this because in these three Gospel passages is the format for conversion: conversation with Jesus; Jesus opening our eyes; Jesus raising us to new life.  In your own life, Bilal, Jesus has spoken to you, to you heart.  And you sought to know more about him.  I can remember the day when you asked me about the Catholic Church, and what we believe, and we sat and talked on the pew in the narthex.  Jesus Himself spoke with you, maybe not about your past, but about your future, and about who He is.  

Through the Rites of Christian Initiation of Adults, which we have been celebrating with you for months, Jesus has also opened your eyes to see how He is who He says He is: God.  In fact, ever since Bishop Boyea chose you for the Easter Sacraments at the Rite of Election which you celebrated the Saturday after Ash Wednesday, you have been in the period that the Church calls “Purification and Enlightenment.”  In these last weeks of your preparation, Jesus has been opening your eyes to believe in Him more deeply, so that you are ready to follow Him always.

And today, as we hear about Jesus raising Lazarus to new life, you are being prepared to die with Christ and be buried with Him in the waters of baptism, so that you can rise with Him to new life.  You are almost at that point where Christ calls you out of the tomb into the radiance of new life with Him.

But these are also for us, because conversion is a process that is never done.  Each one of us, though we come as Christ’s faithful, have not always been so faithful.  There are parts of each of our lives that do not belong to Christ fully, and need conversion.  And so, Jesus continues to talk with us about those parts of our life.  He talks with us about our sinfulness, like the Samaritan woman, and the ways that our life is not configured to Him, not to condemn us, but to draw us to the freedom that only Jesus can give.

We, though we have been enlightened by Christ, still have some areas of blindness in our lives.  Each person here has things that we do not see, for a variety of reason, which we will not see unless we ask Jesus to open our eyes.  Some of these are failings that we have had since birth; others are failings that we have developed along the way.  But Christ wants to illuminate our vision so that we can see our failings, turn away from them, and turn back to Jesus.  

Though many of us have been through the waters of new birth in baptism, we all make deals with death.  We blockade ourselves into the tomb by our sins, which cause spiritual death.  We often want new life, but we sometimes don’t want it enough to accept it from Jesus.  The tomb may be musty, it may be dark, it may be a place of death, but sometimes we are comfortable with it, because death has become second nature to us, and we are surrounded by a culture of death.  But, Jesus wants to raise us to new life, and sometimes it’s someone else who begs the Lord to give us that new life.  

Yes, Bilal, these readings are for you, as our Elect, but they’re for all of us here.  Conversion does not end with baptism, or confirmation, or the Eucharist.  Conversion is a life-long process, of dying to sin and rising with Christ to new life.  Your first period of conversion is almost complete.  Your baptism is less than two weeks away.  Then you will join with us in continuing the conversion to which Jesus invites us each and every day, week, month, and year.

Drawing Closer to Jesus

Third Sunday of Lent

We are a month away from Easter Sunday.  Those words might sound exciting and comforting to you, as your Lenten penances only have 4 more weeks, but as a priest, four weeks to Easter is the busiest time of the year.  In addition to the usual busyness, I am one of the assistant Masters of Ceremonies for the Chrism Mass on Holy Thursday morning, so I’m assisting with a lot of the behind the scenes work.  And, this is my first Easter here, so I’m learning how things have been done here before, and feeling my way through the liturgical celebrations as we enter into them.  This is my favorite time of year in the Church calendar, but it’s also the most intense, and, if we let it be, the most powerful.

Today we hear our first long Gospel, prepping us for Holy Week.  That’s not really why we have these long Gospels over the next three weeks, but it seems to work out that we have three long Gospels to prepare us for the Passion Narrative (a super long Gospel) that we will hear on Palm Sunday and Good Friday.  Today’s Gospel and the next two weeks’ Gospels are passages which deal with conversion, our major theme during Lent.  

Today’s conversion story is about a woman of Samaria.  And in her conversion, she comes to know Jesus more and more as the story continues.  She starts out by referring to Jesus simply as “a Jew.”  There’s no personal interaction, only referencing his religion.  But Jesus draws her in more closely, as he offers her living water.

That encounter with Jesus leads to a change in tone.  No longer is Jesus simply “you, a Jew,” but is now “Sir.”  Jesus offers her something, and she’s interested in this “living water” she is speaking about.  She likes the idea of never having to draw water again, because she is drawing water, alone, at the hottest part of the day.  We’ll learn why later in this story.

Then Jesus changes the subject.  And it is probably not the subject that modern, polite people would talk about.  Jesus says, “‘Go call your husband,’” knowing full well what her situation is.  This woman at the well is an adulteress, which is why she’s drawing water alone at the hottest part of the day.  She has been married five times before, and the man she is living with currently is not her husband.  She, of course, doesn’t want to admit this (who would?), and coyly says, “‘I do not have a husband.’”  But Jesus reveals to her a part of her life that is not in order.  This leads her to acknowledge Jesus in a different way; she comes to know Him more.  He is not, “you, a Jew,” and he is no longer just “Sir.”  He is, she says, a prophet.  

But feeling a little uneasy about the trajectory of this conversation about her love life, she changes it to something she knows will divert attention away from her personal life: how to worship.  Not much has changed today: if you want to get someone in a heated conversation, talk about how you think Mass should be celebrated.  But Jesus doesn’t rebuff her question.  He answers by stating that true worshippers will worship God the Father in Spirit and truth. 

After talking to her about worshipping well, she is drawn to talk about the Messiah.  And Jesus says to her, “‘I am he, the one speaking with you.’”  Jesus reveals Himself and His mission.  When she first started, she did not recognize Him as anything but a foreigner.  Now she is led to think of Him as the Messiah, which in Greek, is translated 𝛸𝜌𝜄𝜎𝜏𝜊𝜍, which we translate as Christ.  From there she tells everybody about Jesus, and they come to believe as well.

This process of conversion is present in our own lives, as well.  It is present in the life of our Elect, Alexis, who is preparing for the Sacraments of Initiation.  It is present in Chris, our Candidate, preparing to be received into the Church and receive the Sacraments of Confirmation and the Eucharist.  But it is, or should be, present in each one of us.  All of us have opportunities to grow closer to Jesus.

Some of us, honestly, don’t know Jesus that well.  He is, we might say, only “you, a Jew.”  He is a stranger to us.  Some of us know about Jesus.  Maybe we come to Mass every week, we do our duty, or we come because that’s what we’ve always done on Sundays.  But Jesus still isn’t known well to us.  He is simply a respected person.  But we keep him at arm’s length, because we like the way we live, and we don’t want to have to change.

Some of us recognize Jesus as a good guy, a religious leader, someone who speaks for God (in other words, a prophet).  We feel that tug at our soul for God, and maybe we’ve even had some religious experiences in our lives when we felt really close to God.  But we still don’t recognize who Jesus fully is.  Some of us recognize Jesus as the Messiah.  We’re very active in our faith, but there are still some areas of our life that we don’t want Jesus to see, and we’re not sure we want to tell others about Jesus.  That seems a bit pushy to tell others about Jesus.  

No matter where we are in our faith, Jesus calls us to a deeper relationship with Him.  Sometimes, as we grow closer to Him, He reveals our need for Him, a need that only He can satisfy, no matter how much we try to fill that need with other, passing things.  Sometimes Jesus even points out our sins to us, in order to reject our sins and choose Him.  But Jesus always wants us to grow close to Him, especially through our worship of the Trinity in Mass.  And then He wants us to tell others about Him.  Where are we in our conversion?  We are never done; we can always grow closer to God.  Are we open to letting God change our lives?

Blessed with a Long Gospel

Third Sunday of Lent–Scrutinies

As you stood and heard this long Gospel passage today, the Gospel of the Samaritan woman at the well, I am sure that certain words were going through your mind: words like “blest,” “privileged,” and “fortunate.”  Those were the words that were going through your mind, right?

Those should be the words that came to your mind as you heard this Gospel, because this Gospel is only read during this year when the Church is celebrating the Scrutinies.  And we only celebrate the Scrutinies when we have the Elect of God, those who are to be baptized, confirmed, and receive the Eucharist for the first time at the Easter Vigil.  The Elect are the children in the womb of this parish, who are about to be born to new life in the Sacraments.  The Scrutinies, the ritual book tells us, 

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

Now, this isn’t the kind of exorcism where heads spin and pea soup gets spit out.  This is a minor exorcism, meant to establish in the Elect the Lordship of Jesus Christ.  

This long Gospel is read because it is an example of conversion, to which the Elect have been called, and by which they can be strengthened.  And this is a perfect example of what happens when we encounter Christ.  At first the woman fights the conversion, speaking about how Jews and Samaritans are not supposed to mix.  But Jesus doesn’t give up.  He offers the woman living water, not just the water that she came to draw to quench her physical thirst.  And the woman wants it, but doesn’t quite understand just what Jesus is saying.  When we encounter Jesus, He offers a gift to us, and we may fight it, or may not fully understand what He wants to give us.

But then, as the encounter continues, Jesus identifies the ways in which there is separation between God and her.  She tries to avoid the situation by saying the truth, just not all the truth.  When confronted with the truth by Truth Himself, she tries to avoid again, and tries to start a fight about how worship should go.  But she is still drawn in.  At the beginning of the encounter, Jesus was just, “a Jew.”  After He promises her living water, He is “Sir.”  When He reveals her past, He is “a prophet.”  

When we are in the presence of holiness, our sinfulness has to be confronted in order to be cast out.  This is not always fun, and it’s not something we always want to do.  So we, too, often try to change the subject, rationalize away our sins, or even try to complain about the Mass being too long or celebrated in a way that we don’t like.  But when we truly encounter Christ, we, too, move from just Jesus the morally good guy, to Jesus the teacher, to Jesus the prophet who speaks for God.

Jesus sidesteps her argument about the Mass, and speaks about who God desires her to follow Him and worship God in spirit and truth.  He then reveals Himself as the Messiah, the anointed one of God, the desire of her heart.  And the woman cannot hold in her joy at becoming a follower of Jesus, but tell others.  

Jesus doesn’t stop with our sinfulness.  He tells us how much He loves us and wants us to follow Him and worship God in spirit and truth and reveals Himself to us as the desire of our hearts.  And if we truly have come into contact with Jesus, then we should want to tell others.  We see Jesus as the Son of God, who reveals us to ourselves so that we can truly be happy.  

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

Who is your Lover?

Third Sunday of Lent

            “Jesus said to her, ‘Go call your husband and come back.’  The woman answered and said to him, ‘I do not have a husband.’  Jesus answered her, ‘You are right in saying, “I do not have a husband.”  For you have had five husbands, and the one you have now is not your husband.’”  This whole situation of having five husbands and a lover probably strikes us as odd (I hope it strikes us as odd).  Now, to be fair, we don’t know what happened to the Samaritan woman’s previous five husbands.  Our first guess is probably that she was the Elizabeth Taylor of her day.  But perhaps they just died, and she was just trying to see if her current lover could survive.  I guess we’ll never know.

            But having five husbands shouldn’t seem odd to us, no matter how the situation unfolded.  It shouldn’t seem odd to us because all of us here have, maybe not five husbands, but five lovers.  Now, before you prepare to check your husband’s email account or browsing history of your wife on the internet, I don’t mean that kind of lover.  I mean someone or something that we give our love to, in place of God, just like the Samaritan woman.

           

The Prophet Ezekiel

God, throughout the Old Testament, used the metaphor of a marital relationship for the relationship between Himself and Israel.  The whole Book of Hosea follows that metaphor.  Perhaps my favorite use of this metaphor, though, is from the Book of Ezekiel, chapter 16.  It’s a long chapter, so I won’t quote it all, but just the first few verses will suffice:

on the day you were born your navel cord was not cut; you were not washed with water or anointed; you were not rubbed with salt or wrapped in swaddling clothes.  No eye looked on you with pity or compassion to do any of these things for you.  Rather, on the day you were born you were left out in the field, rejected.  Then I passed by and saw you struggling in your blood, and I said to you in your blood, “Live!”  I helped you grow up like a field plant, so that you grew, maturing into a woman…but still you were stark naked.  I passed by you again and saw that you were now old enough for love.  So I spread the corner of my cloak over you to cover your nakedness; I swore an oath to you and entered into covenant with you…and you became mine.  Then I bathed you with water, washed away your blood, and anointed you with oil.  I clothed you with an embroidered gown, put leather sandals on your feet; I gave you a fine linen sash and silk robes to wear.  I adorned you with jewelry, putting bracelets on your arms, a necklace about your neck…earrings in your ears, and a beautiful crown on your head.  Thus you were adorned with gold and silver; your garments made of fine linen, silk, and embroidered cloth.  Fine flour, honey, and olive oil were your food.  You were very, very beautiful, fit for royalty…But you trusted in your own beauty and used your renown to serve as a prostitute.  You poured out your prostitution on every passerby.

God says how he loved Israel and cared for her, then wooed her, and married her, but then, after all that care, she went after other lovers.  God uses this image of an unfaithful spouse to describe Israel in their unfaithfulness.

            We see that unfaithfulness in the first reading.  God had freed the People of Israel from slavery in Egypt.  He had demolished Pharaoh’s army in the Red Sea, as Israel passed through dry-shod.  And yet, Israel longed for life back in Egypt.  She longed for her foreign lover, in whom she put her trust, rather than on God, her spouse.  And so they complained that they were dying of thirst.  They didn’t trust in God to provide them with water, even though He had saved them from their enemies. 

            So we can read the Samaritan woman’s five former husbands and one lover in an analogical sense.  They are the things in which we put our trust.  But, eventually, our lovers abandon us, just as they abandoned the Samaritan woman.  You see, she was drawing water at the hottest time of the day.  Likely, she was doing this to avoid the dirty looks from the other villagers, who looked down on her for having five husbands and a lover.  She had to draw water at the worst time of the day because her five husbands and lover would not draw water for her.

            But, as she meets Jesus, she finds someone who says He will be able to giver her living water, so she does not have to draw water again.  He promises her more.  She is skeptical.  And she becomes quite dodgy as he presses her on her life, and invites her to abandon her other lovers for Him, the Divine Bridegroom, who truly loves her, because He created her in love.

            What are the lovers in our life?  What do we value more than God?  What has promised to quench our thirst, yet leaves us drawing water at the hottest time of the day?  Maybe it’s financial security that we feel will take care of us.  Maybe it’s health.  Maybe it’s a job.  Maybe it’s sports.  But if it’s not Jesus, then it won’t really be there for us.  In the end, everything else fades away.  All our other lovers will abandon us, and will not take care of us right when we feel like we need them the most.  But Jesus, our Divine Bridegroom, will always be there for us, giving us living water, the gift of the Holy Spirit, so that we are never thirsty again.  As we hear God speak from the Book of the Prophet Isaiah, chapter 55, verses 1-2: “All you who are thirsty, come to the water!  You who have no money, come, buy grain and eat; Come, buy grain without money, wine and milk without cost!  Why spend your money for what is not bread; your wages for what does not satisfy?  Only listen to me, and you shall eat well, you shall delight in rich fare.”  Jesus is the living water.  Receive from Him, trust in Him alone, and thirst no more!!

From Death to Life

Fifth Sunday of Lent-Third Scrutiny

            For the past two weeks we have heard from the Gospel according to John at this Mass.  We step aside from the usual hearing from the Gospel according to Luke to meditate and reflect upon what St. John calls the main signs of Jesus’ ministry.  We do this to assist our Elect to prepare for baptism, confirmation, and the reception of Holy Communion for the first time, as we accompany them through the Scrutinies.

            These three signs that we hear about all have to do with life, and are fitting for the Elect who are preparing for new life in baptism.  Two weeks ago we heard about the Samaritan woman at the well, and how Jesus was going to give her living water.  As we all know, we can’t live without water.  Last week we heard of the man born blind and how Jesus is the light of the world.  Light is an important part of life.  Without sunlight, the plants don’t produce, which means we, and the animals we eat, don’t survive.  Today, we don’t deal with an image or a metaphor for life, but with life itself in the raising of Lazarus from the dead.

            The first important aspect is that faith is involved.  The Samaritan woman comes to believe in Jesus, and so she is given the life-giving water in her soul which will never run dry.  The man born blind has faith, and Jesus opens His eyes.  Martha has faith that Jesus will raise Lazarus.  In none of these cases is the faith complete, as if one knows it all.  In fact, if one truly knows it all, faith, the knowledge of things unseen, is not necessary.  But faith makes new life possible.

            It is faith, at least in its seminal form, which led you, Elect of God, to ask questions about the Catholic Church.  It is faith which led you to continue searching and opening the Word of God to see if this Jesus should be followed.  It is faith which you will profess before you are baptized.  This will not be the end of the journey, but only the beginning of new life in Christ, just as for those of us who were baptized as infants, when our parents and godparents professed faith for us so that we could receive the precious gift of new life in Christ, that moment of baptism was not the end of our pilgrimage, but the beginning.  And likewise confirmation is not the end of our development of faith, but another important step in the pilgrimage, not the destination.

            God’s love is shown for us in giving us new life.  God promises through the prophet Ezekiel that the way we know that God is God is by receiving new life from Him.  Jesus fulfills that prophecy in our Gospel passage from today.

            But new life is meant to be new, not old.  You don’t pour new wine into old wineskins.  Lazarus had been dead for four days.  His decomposing body was rank with the odor of death.  It looked like a body, in some regards, but was not (we use the word corpse for a body that is no longer animated by a soul).  That is how it is with us before we come to Christ.  Yes, we are made in the image and likeness of God, we have human dignity because we are rational and have an immortal soul, but we do not have new life in us.  That comes through baptism, at least ordinarily.  Before baptism, we are plagued by original sin which puts us at enmity with God.  That is why we pray for you, dear Elect, that, because you have already been chosen—elected—for baptism, the power of Satan may have no sway over you.  After baptism, original sin is washed away—death is washed away—and you are filled with new life.

            But our outsides need to match our insides.  There needs to be a certain consonance, a certainly harmony between the new life we have in our souls, and the way we act with our bodies.  Beauty comes from when the image matches the idea, and if we truly want to be beautiful, then we should try with all our might to make sure that the way we live matches what we believe.  That goes for all of us, not just you Elect.  How many times did Jesus decry the lack of consonance in the Pharisees: “‘You are like whitewashed tombs, which appear beautiful on the outside, but inside are full of dead men’s bones and every kind of filth.’”  The same could be said when what we have inside does not match what we do on the outside.  The temptations are great to keep our faith to ourselves and not let it impact the way we live our lives.  That is where scandal arises, when what we profess with our lips does not match the other actions of our life; when we have new life in us, but we still act like a rotting corpse; when we are members of the Body of Christ, but we act no differently than those who do not know Jesus.

            Dear Elect of God, we pray for you, that as you draw nearer to the life-giving waters of baptism, to the Light of Christ, to new life in Jesus, that you will grow in faith and be kept safe from the Evil One so that you are prepared to put to death the old man, and put on Christ, the new Man.  And we thank you, because your consonance of life between what you believe and how you live reminds us who were baptized before to live up to that call ourselves, so that more and more will be drawn to new life in Christ that not only changes our souls, but changes how we live each day.

I Thirst For You!

Third Sunday of Lent

            If you’re anything like me, when you hear this Gospel, during Mass or outside of Mass, you inwardly prepare for the homily about how we are supposed to be thirsting for the water that Jesus wants to give us, just like God provided water for the Israelites in the desert, and just like Jesus was drawing the Samaritan woman at Jacob’s well to in our Gospel passage.

            Instead, I would like to focus on someone else’s thirst: Jesus’ thirst.  When Jesus first meets the Samaritan woman, he tells her, “‘Give me a drink.’”  Jesus is thirsting.  But for what is Jesus thirsting?  Water?  Unlikely, since Jesus, had spent forty days and forty nights fasting, and was used to being deprived of water.  For what was Jesus thirsting?

            Jesus was thirsting for the soul of the Samaritan woman.  Jesus, the one who, fully human, was talking to her and engaging her in dialogue, was also the one who, fully divine, willed her into existence when she was conceived in the womb of her mother.  As her Creator He wanted her to be in spiritual union with Him, the only way she could be happy.

            She had tried other ways to be happy.  She had tried to find her true happiness in a spouse, but, whether those first five spouses died, divorced her, or she was an adulteress, she had not found that happiness that she was looking for.  Her thirst was not being quenched in human relationships.  And so she was cohabitating, living together without the sanctity and protection and benefit of marriage, with her boyfriend. 

            She had tried to be happy by following false gods.  The Samaritans were excluded from the Jewish people because, from the very beginning of their nation, they had worshipped other pagan gods instead of the one God who had brought them from the land of Egypt, that place of slavery, into the promised land; the one God who had given them manna and quail when they murmured against the Lord in their hunger; the one God who had given them drink from the rock when they grumbled against God and against Moses.  And this abandonment of the true God was only solidified when the Northern Kingdom of Israel, which came to be called Samaria after the name of the chief city in the north, was conquered by Assyria, who displaced many of the Israelites and made them intermarry with the other pagans, which God had expressly forbidden.

            Yes, she was thirsting for God, but God was also thirsting for her.  He wanted her to be happy, truly happy, not just the passing happiness of doing whatever she felt right.  And so Jesus expresses to her His thirst.  But she tries to put Him off, to keep Him thirsting for her, rather than quenching it with the conversion of her heart and life to God.  She first puts Jesus off by trying to argue about who Jesus is, and how He can give her life-giving water.  She then tries to put Him off by lying about her relationship status.  Finally, trying to go for something that surely would put Him off for good, she talks about liturgy, figuring that no two people who are so different in liturgical practices would ever be able to talk about where to worship properly.  But Jesus wants His thirst quenched, and He will not give up. 

Icon of the Crucifixion at the
Basilica of the Holy Sepulchre in
Jerusalem

It is no accident that it is in John’s account of the passion that one of Jesus’ last words on cross is, “‘I thirst.’”  Because on that cross, more than He is thirsting for water, as He gives His human life up and puts His entire life into the hands of His heavenly Father, He wants all people to be drawn to Him as He is lifted high on the cross and dies so that His children, all His children, whether Jew or Greek, slave or free, woman or man, might find life from the water and blood that flow from His pierced side. 

We know the agony of being thirsty ourselves, yet so easily we can find some way to drink.  Whether it’s a water fountain, a vending machine, or the local store, we can find some way to quench our thirst.  But the only way that Jesus’ thirst is quenched is by our love and obedience to Him, a love which does not burden or enslave us, but a love and obedience which truly sets us free.  What are the ways that we keep Jesus thirsting for us, increasing the pain He suffers by us not being united with Him?

Do we feel that we know better than Jesus, and that He cannot truly quench our thirst for happiness?  Do we argue with Jesus that only by the passing pleasures of this world can we truly be happy?  Do we figure that Jesus is not greater than our father Jacob who provided for his family by digging a well, just as our fathers and mothers provided for us by their hard work that bought us toys and relaxation?

Do we feel that only with the right relationship can we truly be happy, trusting that, if we just found that special someone, we would no longer yearn for a deeper relationship, the infinite relationship which only God can satisfy?

Do we keep Jesus away by arguing with Him over which translation of the liturgy is better, which one we like the best, and how we want to worship?  Do we try to put Jesus off, to keep Him at arms’ length because we only want to do the least that we can?

Jesus is thirsting for us, and only our love will quench that thirst.  While His love lacks nothing, He wants us to be joined to that perfect love in the union of the Communion of Love of the Trinity.  If we choose, we can keep Jesus thirsting for us, thirsting for our love in a deep and abiding relationship with him.  Or, we can be like the Samaritan woman at the well, who quenched Jesus’ thirst by the conversion of her life, and the preaching of the Gospel to her friends, and, most importantly, her love of Jesus.  As Jesus hangs on this cross he says to us today, “I thirst.”  Will we give him the drink of our love?