The Peace of the Risen Christ

Third Sunday after Easter
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  I’m going to apologize up front here, because this will probably not be my best homily.  Between vacation (which wasn’t that restful) and trainings for the Michigan State Police I needed to attend, I feel like I’ve been playing catch-up and simply dealing with things as they pop up, like an arcade game of whack a mole.  In addition, a friend of mine who is a Trooper was shot early on Monday morning in Detroit, and I have been trying to help him and his fiancee, whose wedding I will celebrate in October, deal with his serious injury (he’s going to be fine, but he will certainly need some time before he gets back to work).
    So I’m giving this the best I have.  I haven’t had my usual times to think and pray over the readings like I normally do.  I don’t have any funny or deep connections to make at the beginning to draw you in.  I have to preach, and I’m relying on the Holy Spirit to hopefully help draw you ever more deeply into the sacred mysteries and how the Word of God applies to our daily lives (the Holy Spirit is always the one who gives any good message, I just feel like I usually have more time and energy to cooperate with Him than I have had this week).
    The Catholic life is always simply giving our best and allowing God to work out what has to happen.  We don’t see Christ in the Body in the same way that the Apostles did.  That should give us a certain sadness.  We fight through struggles; we can seem overwhelmed by our family situations, by work, by the fears of the world which seeks to silence the Gospel and which so often drives toward violence and division.  Sometimes all of this weighs heavy on our heart.  We are like our Lord described, a woman in labor, who struggles through intense pain, giving all she has.  

    In the midst of this; in the midst of the chaos and busyness of my own life and the reality that I cannot be everywhere to help everyone, nor can I be all things to all people, the first words of Pope Leo XIV rang in my ears: “Peace be with you.”  He continued, “this was the first greeting of the risen Christ, the good shepherd who gave His life for the flock of God.”  
    And this is the only greeting I can share with you today.  The Risen Christ gives you His peace.  He assures as, us His Vicar, the Supreme Pontiff, assured us, “evil will not prevail.”  You are struggling.  You are fighting for truth.  You are working hard to protect and serve your family, your community, your parish, your country.  Sometimes things go well, but so often things break down or go contrary to what you think is best.  Christ did not promise us a world without sorrow, without struggle.  Indeed, He promised us we would have it.  But He also promised that He would see us again and our hearts would rejoice in seeing Him again.  And He promised that the joy of seeing Him again would be a joy no one could take from us.
    The peace and joy that Christ desires to give us can only come when we make room for Him.  When we try to do everything ourselves, without His grace, it all collapses like a house of cards.  We cannot have the peace and joy of Christ if we do not make room in our hearts for Christ Himself.  Sometimes we act like atheists, who do not believe in God and so do not turn to God for help in the midst of our struggles.  But God does not want us to struggle alone.  He wants us to make room for Him in our hearts and in our days, even if it’s simply a few minutes or seconds here and there.  Those stolen moments while the kids nap, or during a snack break in the office, or driving somewhere in the midst of running what seems like a free Uber service, make all the difference in the world, because they invite the peace and joy of Christ back into our minds, hearts, and souls to strengthen us.

Our Lady, Queen of Peace

    And on this Mother’s Day, let us not forget to invoke our heavenly mother, the Blessed Virgin Mary, in whatever struggles we may have.  She is the woman who labors in heaven for our safe deliverance to the Father’s house, who feels the pain of our sorrows and fatigue, who wraps us in her loving embrace when we feel overwhelmed, who shows us that the pains we go through, if united to Christ, can lead to a joy that words cannot fully describe.  Never be afraid to call on her when all seems lost, or like we can’t make it one more day, because she will help us to be open to receive the peace and joy that the risen Christ desires to share with us always.  I will end this homily in the same way our new Holy Father ended his first words at the loggia of St. Peter’s basilica: Hail Mary…. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  

Cars and Jerusalem

Ninth Sunday after Pentecost
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  While this is my eighth year living in Vehicle City, I will admit that I’m not a car guy.  That is to say, I don’t get cars and how they work.  I know how to use them, but if I were to pop the hood, I wouldn’t know how everything is supposed to work together.  I know there are things like spark plugs, carburetors, belts, fans, etc., but how they are all supposed work together is beyond me.  My grandfather, who worked tool and die at Fisher Body in Lansing for most of his adult life, probably would just shake his head at my ignorance, if he were alive today.
    But when we don’t understand how something is supposed to go together or function properly, we can easily miss when something is amiss.  We might have a sense that something is wrong (is my car supposed to sound like that?), but we couldn’t really tell you if something was really wrong, or what it might be.  

Church of Dominus Flevit

   That’s sort of what Christ bemoans in the Gospel today.  This is the time when the Lord weeps over Jerusalem because she does not realize the time of His visitation, the presence of the long-awaited Messiah, the Prince of Peace.  There is a beautiful church just outside the old city of Jerusalem called Dominus Flevit, Latin for the Lord Wept, that recalls this Gospel passage and could have been the place where the Lord wept over Jerusalem, because you can see much of the old city from this elevated point outside.  There is a chapel that has an iron grate, which stands between the viewer and the old city, and the grate has both a chalice with a host, as well as a cross seemingly overlaid over the landscape of modern Jerusalem.  
    Jerusalem had a particular destiny, as the king’s city, to welcome the Messiah when he came.  But because of the hardness of their hearts, most did not recognize the Lord as their long-awaited Messiah, and they missed the opportunity to welcome the Prince of Peace into His city.  So, because Jerusalem rejected peace, the Redeemer prophesied that war would come the city and stone would not be left upon stone, a prophecy that was fulfilled some forty years later when the Romans sacked Jerusalem and destroyed the ancient city, and took away many of the treasures that were there.
    We, too, are meant to recognize the Messiah when He comes.  Of course, we recognize that Jesus is the Messiah, the Christ, as far as the macro scale goes.  We know we’re not waiting for His first advent, but His second advent, His return in glory.  But do we recognize His third advent, how he comes to us each day, month, and year?  Do we recognize what God is trying to do in our life?
    If we don’t, we might still arrive at the destination the Lord desires for us: heaven.  But it will be much harder than it has to be.  A blind man may reach his destination by wandering around and bumping into obstacles.  But it helps if he has a guide to make sure he doesn’t fall into holes, or lose his sense of direction and start walking towards a destination he doesn’t desire.  So, too, for our salvation: if we are not attentive to God, we might still make our way to Him.  But it will be much easier and less dangerous if we attend to how God communicates.  How does God communicate?
    First, we can look to the Scriptures.  St. Jerome famously said, “Ignorance of Scripture is ignorance of Christ.”  By reading the Bible, whether as a whole or in a guided Bible study or at least the more prosaic parts (I know the genealogies of the Old Testament can be tough to get through), we come to see how God works.  We see His special love for the poor, the widow, and the orphan.  We see how He often chooses those whom the world considers losers or worthless to accomplish His mighty deeds.  We see how He calls people to follow His will, and gently (and sometimes not-so-gently) reminds them to come back if they have wandered away.  
    Secondly, we can look to the Church.  The Church takes all the Scriptures and reads it in the light of Christ and salvation.  Our Holy Mother Church teaches us what we need to know about how to be saved, which is really just teaching us how to follow Christ.  She helps us to recognize, through saints and reflection on God’s revelation, how God is working, and how His voice sounds, as opposed to the voice of the world, which can often sound more enticing.
    Thirdly, we can look to prayer.  A daily habit of prayer doesn’t meant that life will go smoothly for us.  But it does mean that through the ups and downs of life, we can better see what God is doing because we’re asking Him on a regular basis, “What are you doing, Lord?”  In prayer we should take time to bring our joys and sorrows, our understanding and our questions to God.  But we should also make time to listen, silencing our minds as best we can to allow God to speak to us and enlighten us with His plan, which, as God said to the prophet Samuel, is not always what we would do.  
    When we come to know God’s will, we can have peace.  Not simply a peace that means we are not struggling, but a peace knowing how the struggle will work out, or at least that it will in some way work out in a way that God has directed for our salvation and the salvation of the world.  The saints show us this peace time and time again, even in the midst of violent persecutions, because they know that whatever God allows will somehow give us the opportunity to grow closer to Him, even to the point of shedding our blood, if necessary.
    Throughout life, we might not understand how everything fits together and works out.  It might seem as foreign to you as the inner workings of a car seems to me.  But if we are attentive to Christ’s presence in our life and in the world, we are more likely to understand, and cooperate with God’s will, rather than working to frustrate it or simply wandering around in the dark.  Lord, through your word in the Scriptures, through your Bride, the Church, and through our daily commitment to prayer, help us to know your will, to love your will, and to embrace your will.  In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

Already and Not Yet

Feast of Christ the King
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  As we celebrate Christ the King, we celebrate what is, but also long for what is to come.  We see this even in our Lord’s description of His kingdom.  In the Gospel according to St. Mark, in the very first chapter, Christ says, “‘This is the time of fulfillment.  The kingdom of God is at hand.”  In the Gospel according to St. Luke, in chapter 21, the same Christ says, “‘behold, the kingdom of God is among you.’”  And yet, as we heard today, Christ also says in the Gospel according to St. John, “‘My kingdom does not belong to this world.  If my kingdom did belong to this world, my attendants [would] be fighting to keep me from being handed over….  But as it is, my kingdom is not here.’”  So, which is it?  Is the kingdom at hand and even among us, or is it not here?

    Yes.  Yes it is at hand; yes it is among us; yes it is not here.  As with so many aspects of our faith, we need to unpack the idea of Christ’s kingdom.  The Incarnation is the presence of the Kingdom of God, where all is right.  Christ holds all things together in himself, and in Christ we have the perfect union of God and man, which is part of the kingdom.  In Christ, the human soul is subject to the will of God perfectly, and the body is subject to the human soul.  In Christ, love and truth have met, justice and peace have kissed (to cite Psalm 84).  
    But, and you don’t have to look hard to realize this next point, we’re not living in the fullness of the kingdom.  Our bodies do not always obey our souls, which do not always obey the will of God.  Love is distorted to mean delight or even license; justice is often available to the highest bidder and is applied differently if you have money and/or power than if you don’t; civil unrest, battles, and wars still plague our cities, State, nation, and world.  Sorry, Belinda Carlisle, but heaven is not a place on earth.      And yet, as followers of Christ live the Gospel, heaven does break into earth more and more, and the kingdom establishes itself more perfectly.  When we love to the best of our ability with the love of God, the kingdom grows.  When we proclaim the truth of the Gospel, the truth that the Church continues to unpack throughout the centuries, the kingdom grows.  When we not only give each other his or her due, but also help others to thrive, the kingdom grows.  When we are able to pray for our enemies and do good to those who persecute us, the kingdom grows.  This is not to say that we are the ones who bring about the kingdom; that work is always primarily the work of God, with which we participate.  The approach that we have to usher in the kingdom tends to go wrong pretty quickly, due to our own sinfulness.  Just look at the approach taken in Central America which sought to bring about the kingdom, but which ended up being Marxist regimes that oppressed the people and led to class warfare and societal instability.
    It is Christ who brings about His own kingdom, and He will fully establish His reign at the end of time, when His angels will separate the sheep from the goats, the wheat from the chaff, and will cast down the beast and its followers for eternity in Hell.  That will be a dies irae for those who work against God, and the battle will be swift and decisively victorious for Christ.
    It will be decisive because Christ already decisively conquered on a tree.  His sacrifice, re-presented for us in an unbloody manner on this altar, was the defining battle of all time, when Satan was conquered once-for-all, and sin and death were trod underfoot.  So Christ already achieved victory, but that victory has not been extended in totality yet.  And that is why we wait.
    And as we wait, we show if we want to be victorious in Christ, or conquered with the ancient foe.  We demonstrate whether we prefer to serve in heaven or reign in hell.  Our actions are our response to the invitation of eternal salvation in the kingdom of God.  Are we going to the wedding feast of the kingdom, or do we find excuses why we cannot attend?
    If we wish that kingdom to spread, if we wish to cooperate in spreading that kingdom, then it begins here.  If Christ is the kingdom of God in its fullness, then when we receive Holy Communion worthily, the kingdom of God is among us and even within us.  Coming to Mass, offering ourselves with the host and the wine, and then receiving in a state of grace the Eucharist allows the kingdom of God to be planted inside of us at least each week, or even every day.  The more that we receive the Eucharist in a state of grace, the more likely it is that we will respond to spreading that kingdom in our lives at work, at home, on vacation, at sporting events, etc.  
    That kingdom also spreads most easily through the domestic church, the family.  When parents demonstrate love, the children learn to do the same.  When children and parents tell the truth, God’s kingdom is strengthened among them.  When parents make sure that every member of the family has the ability, not only to survive but to thrive, the justice of the Kingdom of God grows.  When children learn how to say “I’m sorry” when they have done wrong, and when children see their parents apologize for their sins in confession and in the home, Christ’s kingship is established more and more.  And then those children are more likely to do the same in the homes and families that they make for themselves.  And the kingdom spreads even more.  
    If you wish to help the kingdom God, then love, not only your neighbors, but also your enemies.  If you wish to help the kingdom of God, tell the truth, be honest in contracts.  If you wish to help the kingdom of God, stand up for what is right, no matter how unpopular it may be, correct with charity, when appropriate, and administer discipline as your state calls you.  If you wish to help the kingdom of God, admit when you’re wrong, and forgive when others have wronged you.  It will help show the “already” of the kingdom, and will allow us to persevere in the “not yet,” until Christ reigns fully, with the Father and the Holy Spirit, for ever and ever.  Amen. 

Peace and the Kingdom of God

 Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
    Life is full of ups and downs.  There are days of rejoicing, but there are also days of sorrow.   It is so easy to see only the bad things, the things that are going wrong, in our life.  The “downs” seem to clamor for attention at each and every second.  
    The same was true for the people to whom Jesus came.  The Jewish people were ruled by the Romans, who were not known for their generosity nor gentleness to those they ruled, especially when those they ruled had a tendency to rebel and cause problems, as certain groups of Jews did.  There was a puppet king, Herod, whom the Romans allowed to exercise some little authority to try to appease the Chosen People, but who held no respect from the people.  No prophet had claimed to speak for God for hundreds of years, save John the Baptist.  The Pharisees remained ever-present to remind you not to break the law.  Leprosy was lurking in the population, which would get you expelled from your neighborhood and basic civilization.  The rich seemed to always get richer, and the poor seemed always to get poorer.

    In the midst of that sorry situation, Jesus sent His disciples out to announce “peace” and good news.  What is that good news?  That the Kingdom of God is at hand.  God’s reign was breaking into the world, and the final battle had begun that would lead to the irrevocable victory of God.  God’s People would no longer be oppressed by any force, earthly or spiritual.  God’s Word would not only be heard, but would come to fulfillment.  The Law would be written on hearts and would be liberating.  Sickness and disease would cease, and all would have their fill of the good things of the Lord.  That does sound like good news!!
    And that is the same message that we proclaim today.  The message has not, in essence, changed in 2,000 years, because it is not our message, but the message of the Messiah.  The message has not changed in essence in 2,000 years because, while governments come and go; while words from experts and gurus multiply every year; while some use rules to put others down; while new viruses continue to wreak havoc and the poor are still separated from the rich, yet the Kingdom of God is still breaking into our world, leading to it’s perfect fulfillment at the end of time.  And we still need to hear that good news.
    Because it is easy to notice all the negative.  It is easy to focus on the faults and failings and the things that never seem to go well or as we planned.  It is easy for our hearts to be disturbed and full of anger and hate.  And so we still need to hear, “‘Peace to this household’” and “‘The kingdom of God is at hand for you.’”  
    You probably need to hear that message, and so I proclaim it to you.  But you also probably know people who need to hear that message, who need peace and the in-breaking of the Kingdom of God in their lives.  And it is so easy to put it off sharing that with others.  It’s so easy to let our day become filled with noise and busyness and many things that we don’t have to do, but that keep us blissfully numb.  How many times have we thought, “I should call this person”, only to then quickly move on to the next task at hand and not call them for days…or weeks…or ever?  
    8 June was National Best Friends Day.  I think this is a holiday that Hallmark made up.  But none the less, it’s a thing.  And so I bought my two best friends cards expressing gratitude for being a good friend to me.  Let me tell you, it’s a little hard to find good cards to send best friends who are guys.  Many were a bit too mushy for my liking, so I did the best I could with the selection from which I was choosing.  A few days later I saw one of my best friends, and he thanked me for the card, but wondered why I sent it.  I guess I forgot to put “Happy National Best Friends Day” in the card.  But I sent it because I am grateful and appreciate my friends, and so I said so.

    When was the last time you sent a card or a letter to someone?  Not an email; not a text; not even a phone call.  When was the last time you wrote a letter or wrote a physical note to someone?  Emails, texts, and phone calls are nice.  But cards say you went the extra mile to take time and write out words and buy a stamp and put it in the mail.  Even if you’re not wandering around the countryside to spread God’s peace and kingdom like the disciples in the Gospel, you can do so by the mail.  That one letter or card can change a person’s life.  Especially for the younger folk here, I know that seems like an odd thing to write a letter, but it really does make a difference.  We’re so used to getting only bills or junk ads in the mail.  When we get a card or a letter, it’s a very pleasant surprise.
    Every town and every person has its ups and downs.  We have good days and bad days.  But Jesus has commissioned us to spread His peace and the good news of the kingdom that Jesus won by His Blood.  When we do this, maybe by writing a letter or a card, it can raise someone to new life and help to inscribe our names in heaven.

Three Words or Phrases

 Second Sunday of Easter
    Here’s an interesting experiment: thinking only to yourself (not out-loud), what three words would others use to describe you?  Again, this is a rhetorical question, but what words did you think others would use?  Are they different from the words that you would use to describe yourself?  Were there mostly positive or mostly negative?  
    This weekend, as we close out the Octave of Easter, there are three words that should describe every Catholic.  It may not (probably should not) be an exhaustive list, but these three words or phrases should describe every Catholic.  And these three words come from our celebration today.  Those three words or phrases are (in no particular order): a believer; concerned for others; merciful.
    The first reading, second reading, and Gospel all talk about believing.  To be a Catholic is to be a believer.  Bishop Mengeling loves to use this word.  But what do we believe?  At the heart, we believe that Jesus is who He says He is–the Son of God–and we trust in His words about how we are to live our lives.  Our belief is sometimes based upon observable realities, like St. Thomas seeing the risen Christ.  Sometimes our belief is not based on things that we can see.  But we are believers in the promises of God and the teachings of God, both as recorded in the Scriptures and as recorded in the teachings of the Magisterium, the teaching office of the Church entrusted to the Pope and the Bishops united with him on matters of faith and morals.
    Jesus claims everything in our life.  He claims our love, our obedience, our fidelity.  The only one who can do that is God.  So our belief that Jesus is God affects how we live.  If we feel that we can ignore Jesus when we disagree with Him, we’re not believers.  Fully believing in Jesus is a challenge to which maybe we don’t always live up, but it’s our goal.  It’s one thing to fail at a goal; it’s another altogether to have a different goal.  Our goal as Catholics should be to believe in Jesus, not just as a mental exercise, or a pious thought, but in ways that truly change the way we live.
    As an example of putting belief into action, our first reading from the Acts of the Apostles describes the first Catholics as being of one heart and one mind, not claiming any possessions as one’s own, and, in fact, selling property and putting the proceeds at the disposal of the Church for those in need.  This is where some might say, “See?!?  The first Catholics were socialists!  They owned everything in common!”  Wrong.  The first Christians weren’t socialists.  But they were concerned for others.  Rather than thinking about themselves, and because they believed in God, they thought about the needy as much or more than themselves.  And some on their own volition would decide to share what they have with the poor and live a life radically detached from ownership, relying on the each other to support themselves.  There is no evidence that the government or the Church instructed them to sell their house.  And some didn’t sell their homes, as this was where the first Christians would meet for early examples of Christian-style synagogue services, and perhaps even the Mass.  No one was compelled, but people freely gave.
    This is the witness that many of those in consecrated life still give.  They give up personal ownership of property and their own bank account to live as a brother or sister, monk or nun.  They rely on the community to care for their needs, so that they are more devoted to serving Jesus.  
    But before you sell your house to live with me in the rectory and let me take care of you with the money you donate, let me consider other ways to live as a man or woman concerned about others.  We all have a responsibility to care for ourselves and our families.  The Church teaches that the government should only get involved in providing for people’s needs where family and friends and local charities are unable.  But, while providing for our needs, we should also look to support those, to be the family and friends and local charity for those who, through no fault of their own, cannot provide for themselves.  People today are good at providing for programs.  But we are called, to the extent that we’re able, to help people out personally.  This is what Pope Francis means when he talks about serving the poor by being with them and looking into their eyes, and not simply letting an NGO (non-governmental organization) worry about the poor and needy.
  

  Lastly, the first Catholics were merciful.  Today, the Second Sunday of Easter, is also called Divine Mercy Sunday.  Pope St. John Paul II instituted this feast in order to help us all know of God’s mercy towards us.  Pope Francis declared a Year of Mercy in 2015.  The revelation to St. Thomas the Apostle of Jesus’ wounded hands, feet, and side, were really a revelation of His mercy, that He forgave us and did away with our sins when He shed His Blood on the cross.  Mercy does not pretend that a past offense did not occur.  Jesus did not pretend the wounds of His crucifixion were not there.  But rather than letting those wounds become an opportunity for vengeance on all those who led Him there, and all those who abandoned Him during His most needful hour, Jesus simply greets the apostles and disciples with the Hebrew word, “Shalom,” “Peace,” which means more than just non-conflict, but a wholeness and fullness of life.  
    Jesus earlier had told the parable of the unforgiving steward, and told us that we are to forgive as we are forgiven.  He also told us that the measure of forgiveness that we give to others is the measure that will be given to us.  Our reception of God’s mercy is the catalyst that allows us to be merciful to others, and that should most definitely be a hallmark of our life.  
    Certainly there are other aspects to being Catholic.  There are other qualities that should be present in our life.  But this week, let’s work on being a believer; concerned about others; and merciful!

"Peace" not "Really?"

Second Sunday of Easter (or Sunday of Divine Mercy)

I have a niece, and another niece or nephew due to be born in mid-April.  And one of the big things for families that I have come to experience in my own family are the big firsts: the first tooth; the first crawl; the first solid food; and the first word.  There are probably countless comedic scenes about moms and dads trying to get the little child to say mama or dada first, as a sign of which parent is the best.  

So it is interesting that Jesus’ first word to His apostles after He rises from the dead, in both the Gospel according to Luke and the Gospel according to John (which we heard today) is: peace be with you, or shlama amkhon in the Aramaic Jesus would have used (a phrase which is still used in some Eastern Catholic liturgies).  After all that Jesus had gone through, and all the most of the apostles had not been through with Him, Jesus chooses to say: peace.  What a merciful response!  Even if we weren’t mad, how many of us would’ve said something like: “where were you?”; “why did you abandon me?”; or maybe just “really?”

On this Divine Mercy Sunday, we rejoice in God’s mercy, which flows from the piercèd side of Jesus.  We rejoice that Jesus, whom we have crucified with our sins, does not say, “Where were you?” or “Why did you abandon me?” or even “Really?”  Jesus gives us His peace.  

And if we rewind 6 chapters to John 14, when Jesus was speaking to the apostles, again in the upper room, on the night of His Last Supper, we hear more about that peace.  Jesus says, “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you.  Not as the world gives do I give it to you.”  Jesus’ peace, the peace of heart, peace of mind, is the peace that comes from God’s mercy being showered upon us.  It is not simply the worldly notion of peace: the cessation of violence.  It is a wholeness and integrity of God with us, and we with God.  It is a right ordering of our souls and minds and body, as well as with our neighbors.  

But that mercy is not something that we put in a bottle on a shelf.  It is something that is meant to be shared.  Immediately after giving the apostles His peace, Jesus also says, “‘As the Father has sent me, so I send you.’”  Jesus’ mercy, God’s mercy, Divine Mercy, is meant to be shared with others, just as the Father shared Jesus with us.  In fact, in encountering us, others should encounter Jesus, and His mercy, just as St. Thomas did a week after the Resurrection.

What is mercy?  Mercy is God’s love.  In Hebrew, they word chesed can be translated as mercy and as love.  The Psalm we heard today is one example of this: chi leolam chesedo: for his mercy endures forever.  It is the way God shows His love for us.  Otherwise, it would have be judgment, not mercy.  Instead, the justice of God for sin fell upon Jesus, so that we could receive the mercy of God, which is offered to us as long as we are alive.  Our sins, as St. Faustina reminded us, as a drop in the ocean of God’s mercy.

But mercy does not call wrong right, or ignore it.  Neither ignorance nor rationalization is mercy.  Instead, mercy recognizes that there is a debt to be paid, but does not demand its payment.  Mercy acknowledges that good has been rejected, but returns an embrace when a punishment could have been dealt.  

We see mercy in one of Jesus’ last acts before He died.  St. Dismas, the Good Thief, admits his sin before Jesus as they both hang on the cross.  But then asks the unthinkable: for mercy.  And Jesus responds, “‘Amen, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise.’”  One of my favorite readings from the saints is from a sermon by St. Maximus of Turin, a bishop, which reads, “And so, my brothers, each of us ought surely to rejoice on this holy day.  […] Sinner he may indeed be, but he must not despair of pardon on this day which is so highly privileged; for if a thief could receive the grace of paradise, how could a Christian be refused forgiveness?”  May we never despair of God’s pardon, God’s mercy, God’s peace, but acknowledge our sins, confess them in the Sacrament of Penance, and so prepare ourselves to celebrate these sacred mysteries, in anticipation of the wedding feast of the Lamb in heaven.

Dona Nobis Pacem

***Please Note: This Homily was given off-the-cuff,

and the text below represents my best attempt to reconstruct what was said***

        This past week as I was looking over the readings for this Sunday, and praying on what the Lord wanted me to preach on, I was led to talk about the end of the world and the end of our life, and how we view death, either as a thief who steals our life, or as a messenger who announces to us the news that the Bridegroom of our souls is ready to greet us at the end of our life.
        But as I turned on the news on Friday afternoon, and learned what all of you have since learned through the television, newspaper, or radio, about the terrorist attacks by ISIS in Paris and Beirut, as well as the martyring of 147 Christians in Kenya by El Shabab, the homily I wrote didn't seem as fitting.
        When horrible events like the ones we have heard or read about around the world this weekend, we can feel helpless and wonder what we can do in the face of such hatred and violence.  It seems so overwhelming, and we feel so small.  But we are not helpless, and there are ways that we can respond to these tragedies.
        The first thing that we can do is to affirm that God never, ever asks a person to do violence in His Name.  Pope St. John Paul II, Pope Benedict, and Pope Francis have all reaffirmed recently that such acts are contrary to God's nature, and God would never invite a person to do violence in His Name.  In Jesus, God revealed that He is Love, and that He would rather die for our sins than have us suffer any violence due to sin.
        The second thing we can do is pray for peace and justice.  We have come together to pray today.  Our Mass prayers today are from the Mass for the Preservation of Peace and Justice.  So we come together at this Mass and we ask God to give us peace: the peace of Christ which is His Easter gift; the peace of God which is not the mere cessation of violence, but which is wholeness.  We come together at this Mass to pray for justice, because injustice is so often the cause of violence and terror.  We pray that God will give us His peace and His justice.
        The third thing that we can do to work against evil is to be people of peace and justice.  If we wish to have peace in our world, we must be peaceful people.  When we are people of peace in our families, with friends, in our workplace, on the road, and with everyone we meet, God's peace spreads to those people, who can spread it to those they know, and so peace spreads.  Peace, like love, is diffusive: it seeks to spread itself.  If we wish to have justice in our world, then we must be people of justice, people who give others the respect and dignity that they deserve as human beings created in the image and likeness of God.  When we are people of justice in our families, with friends, in our workplace, on the road, and with everyone we meet, God's justice spreads.
        In the face of such horrific attacks, we can feel like there is nothing that we can do.  But we can respond by praying for peace and justice, and working for peace in justice in our own life.  In those ways, we will promote peace in our communities and in our world.

We Have (the Holy) Spirit, Yes We Do!!

Sixth Sunday of Easter

            “Be sealed with the Gift of the Holy Spirit.”  These are the words that Fr. Mark said to the 28 people who were confirmed at the Easter Vigil just a few weeks ago.  They are the words that our 8^th and 9^th grade students will hear next school year when Bishop Boyea confirms them.  These are the words that call down the Holy Spirit upon the baptized, just as Sts. Peter and John gave the Holy Spirit to those who had accepted the Word of God in Samaria, after they had been baptized.

            Does this gift of the Holy Spirit change those who receive it?  Does the Holy Spirit matter?  Of course!  By the anointing with the Sacred Chrism and the laying on of hands, those who have been confirmed are united to the Blessed Trinity in a new way!  They are little christs, little anointed ones, just as Christ, the anointed one, was filled with the Spirit.

            Sadly, we can block the many graces that the Spirit wants to give to us, the seven-fold gift of: wisdom, understanding, reverence, knowledge, counsel, right judgment, and wonder and awe in the presence of God.  We can say no to these gifts.  We can say no to the courage, the excitement, the joy that are the gifts that should be poured upon us when we are baptized and confirmed. 

            How often do I see those gifts going unused, like birds that long to fly but are locked in a cage that gives them no room.  How often do I see people come to Sunday Mass as if they are going to a funeral!  How often do I see people coming forward to receive the Eucharist, the Body and Blood of our Lord, Jesus the Christ, the Anointed One, without joy on their faces!  It’s not that we always have to feel happy or have a smile on our face.  That will only happen if we are welcomed into heaven.  But, we can always be joyful that we are able to participate in the anticipation of the Wedding Feast of the Lamb of God, the Antechamber of Heaven.  That’s what we get the opportunity to celebrate each week.  And if we are truly celebrating, then we are not dour, but delighted.  Imagine how much fun the Open Houses that we attend would be if everyone acted their like they do at Mass!  Not much at all! 

            The Holy Spirit gives us life, gives us breath.  It is like the vision of the dry bones from the Book of the Prophet Ezekiel.  Even though the bones are put back together, and the sinews and muscles are all on the bones, they bodies need the Spirit of God breathed into them in order to live.  We need that same Spirit or else we are nothing but a collection of bones, muscle, and organs walking around like zombies.  We need that Spirit!

            We need the Spirit to be able to give an explanation “to anyone who asks…for a reason for [our] hope,” as St. Peter says in our second reading.  The same Spirit that allowed the Apostles, Blessed Mother, and disciples gathered in the upper room at the first Pentecost, to proclaim the Gospel, the Good News, to the Jews gathered in Jerusalem; the same Spirit that sent Philip down to Samaria to preach and baptize those who were willing to accept the Word of God; that same Spirit dwells within us and wants to renew the face of the earth by our testimony and witness to the Gospel of Christ.  It is like the fizz in a shaken pop bottle that is just waiting for the tiniest opening to explode out of us. 

But we have become good at keeping the lid on.  We have become good at quelling the Spirit so that we don’t have to give an explanation for our faith.  We can be like adolescents in the faith.  We don’t know much and we’re afraid of sharing what we have for fear that we are different, that we upset the apple cart.  We may not have joy, but at least we’re comfortable where we’re at, and we don’t want to challenge anyone else, let alone ourselves.  Just like adolescents we don’t want to be different.  We want to the same as everyone else.  But that’s not what the Spirit calls us to.  As St. Paul says in his letter to the Romans, “Do not conform yourselves to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and pleasing and perfect.”  Do not be the same as the world, because if we are, then we do not have the Spirit of God, since, as Jesus says in today’s Gospel, the Advocate, the one who stands up to defend us and gives us words to speak as we proclaim the Good News, that Spirit the world cannot accept, “because it neither sees or knows him.” 

“For God did not give us a spirit of cowardice but rather of power and love.”  If we have the Spirit, we have power.  Not power which dominates, but power that serves by proclaiming the freeing love and redemption that is ours in Christ Jesus.  To show that we have the Holy Spirit do we all have to quit our jobs and go off to Pacific Islands, Saudi Arabia, or unknown jungles in South America to preach conversion?  No, we have plenty of opportunities right here in East Lansing, Okemos, and the entire greater-Lansing area.  There are people who do not know Jesus and who need to.  There are people who know Jesus and have been baptized, but who have not yet received the full inheritance of the Spirit that is their right as children of God in confirmation.  The more we are willing to bring Christ to our work place and even in our own homes (where, sadly, I fear He is sometimes absent!!), the more will we transform this world to be more like the Kingdom of God that Christ instituted by His own presence here on earth. 

The more we pray on a daily basis for the gift to recognize the times when the Spirit is calling us to bring Jesus into a particular conversation or situation; the more we are proud to be Catholics and bring that into the public sector, rather than being ashamed of having different rules and different views that so many others; the more we open ourselves up to the Spirit rather than blocking Him by our fear and our sins, the more we will have that enduring joy and peace that Christ promises to us. 

And so, as we prepare for Pentecost over the next two weeks, may our prayer be an invitation to the Holy Spirit to make His dwelling in us, fill us with His power, and help us to be alive with Him rather than just dry bones rattling along in life. 

Come, Holy Spirit,

Fill the hearts of your faithful

and enkindle in them the fire of your love.

Send forth your Spirit

and they shall be created

and you shall renew the face of the earth.  

Amen.

"VENI SANCTE SPIRITUS REPLE TUORUM CORDA FIDELIUM
COME HOLY SPIRIT FILL THE HEARTS OF YOUR FAITHFUL"
From Monte Cassino Benedictine Abbey, Italy