Gone and Yet Here

Solemnity of the Ascension of the Lord

    If there’s one thing that has proliferated during our pandemic, it’s memes.  Memes, if you’re not familiar with the word, is a picture, often with a short phrase, that’s intended to be humorous.  One that came to mind today (which I saw in April but would have also been appropriate earlier this month!) was: Anyone else feel like life is being written by a 4th grader right now?  “And there was this virus, and everyone was scared.  And then the world ran out of toilet paper.  Yeah, and then there was no school for like a month, and then it snowed.”  If we bring it up to the present day we could also include murder hornets and, sadly, the recent floods in central Michigan and wildfires near Grayling.  It does certainly sound like a bad story!
    As we go through the main points of the Gospel, it may also sound a little like a disjointed story.  You can imagine trying to explain the Gospel to someone who has never heard it before: There’s a virgin, Mary, who conceives a Son.  But it’s not conceived with her husband, but by the Holy Spirit.  And Mary’s Son, Jesus, is also God’s Son, but he’s not half-God and half-human, he’s fully God and fully human.  And Jesus heals people and walks on water, and multiplies bread and fish for the hungry, but then He dies on the cross.  But then He comes back from the dead, not like a zombie, but in a glorified body which can pass through doors.  And He visits some people during 40 days after the Resurrection, but then ascends into heaven.  But He’s not really gone, because His Body is the Church. 
    Christianity holds in tension so many things: Mary who is mother and virgin; Jesus who is God and man; Jesus who truly dies, but is truly risen from the dead; and what we celebrate today, Jesus ascended into heaven, but did not leave us orphans without His presence.  He’s gone, but He’s still here.  After all, we heard it at the end of the Gospel today: “‘behold, I am with you always, until the end of the age.’”
    So how is Jesus still present with us, if, as we heard in the Gospel, He ascended beyond our sight into the heavens?  There are two ways.  The first we’ll celebrate next Sunday on Pentecost.  When the Ascension was celebrated when it should be (on Ascension Thursday, 40 days after Easter), we could point to the first novena in the church.  This is where you can insert the bad joke, where a Franciscan, a Dominican, and a diocesan priest are all asked individually by a layman, “Is there a novena for a Ferrari?”  The Franciscan, when asked, answers, “What’s a Ferrari?”  The Dominican, when asked, likewise answers, “What’s a Ferrari?”  The diocesan priest, when asked, answers, “What’s a novena?” 
    A novena is 9 days of prayer, usually for an intention.  There are nine days between the Ascension and Pentecost, and the Blessed Mother, Apostles, and disciples were praying for those nine days to continue the work of Jesus, without really knowing what they should be doing.  And their prayers are answered by the outpouring of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost, where all gathered in that upper room are empowered to preach the Gospel.
    The Holy Spirit continues Jesus’ presence in the world.  Through the Holy Spirit, the Good News is still preached, freedom from sin is still granted, the hungry are still fed, the sick are still healed, the dead are still raised.  All that Jesus did on earth continues through the work of the Holy Spirit.  Sometimes that happens directly by the Holy Spirit, but sometimes it happens by people empowered by the Holy Spirit, like the first Apostles and disciples, who continue that work through the Church.
    And the Church is the second way that Jesus’ presence is continued on earth.  The Church is the Mystical Body of Christ, and is present in heaven with Christ at the right hand of the Father (what we call the Church Triumphant), is present in Purgatory, awaiting the time when they will be ready for heaven (what we call the Church Suffering), and is present here on earth, as St. Paul says, working out our salvation and trying to live the life of Jesus daily (what we call the Church Militant).  The Church continues the teaching of Jesus, frees people from sin through the Sacrament of Penance, feeds the hungry of body through food pantries, and feeds the hungry of soul through the Eucharist, heals the sick through the Sacrament of Anointing of the Sick, and prays for the resurrection of the dead in the funeral rites and Mass.  And in many more ways, the ministry of Jesus in Judea 2,000 years ago continues throughout the world.
    And that’s you and me.  Our call through baptism and confirmation is to continue the presence of Jesus in whatever way that we can.  People are no less hungry for Jesus than they were 2,000 years ago, and Jesus can satisfy their hunger through the Holy Spirit working through us as the Church. 
    Yes, there is that tension, that Jesus is both gone and present here on earth.  But His presence on earth is both the work of the Holy Spirit and us, in cooperation with the Holy Spirit.  This week, let’s make sure that our lives reveal that Jesus is alive and that, while He ascended into heaven, He is still working and active here on earth!

Doh!

Fifth Sunday of Easter

    When I was growing up, my parents did not let me watch “The Simpsons” because, I suppose, they thought it too crude and disrespectful.  So, of course, when I was in college seminary, and “The Simpsons” came on TV, I was definitely going to sit down and watch it.  And if you’ve watched “The Simpsons,” or even if you haven’t, you’re probably familiar with the character Homer Simpson, the lazy, glutinous, well-meaning, and sometimes philosophizing dad.  Homer has a quintessential word, or maybe grunt is a more appropriate word, that is associated with him: doh!  You might imagine Homer hitting his head while he says it, which gives it the proper context, a grunt and action of futility and frustration.
    If Jesus was Homer (and that comparison, obviously, is an absurd one), when St. Philip said, “‘Master, show us the Father, and that will be enough for us’”, Jesus would have said, “Doh!”  For three years Philip had been following Jesus each day, seeing the miracles, hearing the teaching, and now, at the Last Supper, Jesus is giving His farewell address before He dies on the cross.  Jesus comes to His great unveiling to the Apostles of His unity with the Father and says,  “‘If you know me, then you will also know my Father.  From now on you do know him and have seen him.’”  And what does Philip say?  “Jesus, just show us the Father and we’ll be good.”  It’s like the teacher saying, “2 x 3 = 6,” and then the student saying, “So wait: what’s 2 x 3?” 
    Jesus reveals the Father in everything He does.  Jesus is not the Father, but He is the revelation of the Father, so that we no longer have to wonder what the Father is like.  We see it in Jesus.  Jesus only heals at the will of the Father.  Jesus only teaches what the Father wants taught.    Jesus loves with the love of the Father.  Jesus only suffers because that is the will of the Father.  No one can truly come to the Father without the Son.  This is the basis of our claim, that, if not true, would be pure arrogance: Jesus is the only means of salvation.  He is, as St. Peter said the second reading, the “cornerstone,” upon which the entire heavenly kingdom is built.  Without the cornerstone, the whole building collapses.  Without Jesus, there is no heaven for us.  With Jesus, we have a place in the heavenly temple.
    But that revelation of the Father through Jesus continues in our day.  Bishop Barron is coming out with a new series on the sacraments, and I was able to get a sneak peak at episode one, about the sacraments in general and baptism in particular.  Bishop Barron quotes Pope St. Leo the Great: “What was visible in our Savior has passed over into his mysteries.”  That last part of the sentence in the original Latin is: “in sacramenta transivit.”  Mysteries was another way of saying sacraments, and, in fact, in the Christian East, they still refer to the sacraments as mysteries.  But the point is that we see the Father through Jesus, and we see Jesus especially through the sacraments.  The sacraments are our opportunities to encounter Jesus in a powerful way.
    And yet, how often do we think: I wish I could just talk with Jesus?  I wish I could see Jesus?  I wish I could hear Jesus?  As Homer would say, “Doh!”  Through the sacraments of baptism, penance, the Eucharist, confirmation, holy matrimony, holy order, and anointing of the sick, we encounter Christ in a way that He gave us, and through our encounter with Christ, we encounter the Father.  The sacraments are not “church graduations” after we pass a class.  They are opportunities that we can encounter God, a new beginning of, and the fruit of, a relationship that we have with God.
    Why did Philip miss what Jesus was saying at the Last Supper?  Why was Philip confused after Jesus said, “‘If you know me, then you will also know my Father’”?  How Philip was expecting to experience the Father was not the way the Father was revealing Himself.  And maybe, more often than we’d like to admit, we miss it, too, because we want to experience the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit on our terms. 
    How often do we come to Mass expecting to be entertained, or to feel something, or to “get something out of it”?  We can equate those with encountering God, and sometimes we do encounter God in that way.  But we can want the Father to reveal Himself on our terms, in our ways rather than His ways.  I know watching Mass on live-stream, as great of a blessing as it is, brings with it even more challenges to paying attention, participating, and really offering ourselves to the Father through Christ the Son in the power of the Holy Spirit.  But right now, this is how Jesus is revealing the Father.
    Like St. Philip, we all want to encounter the Father.  Like St. Philip, that happens through Jesus, and therefore especially through the seven sacraments which flow from Jesus’ Mystical Body, the Church.  May both you and I, no matter what, cling to Jesus and the ways that He reveals to us the love of the Father in heaven. 

"There's a Difference in Living and Living Well"

Fourth Sunday of Easter
    People sometimes ask me how I prepare for my homilies and how long it takes.  I think it was Archbishop Fulton Sheen who said that if he was supposed to preach for five days he needed five minutes of prep.  If he was supposed to preach for five minutes he needed five days of prep.  For whatever reason, though, this was a hard homily to write this week.  I followed my usual pattern of reading the readings a week ahead of time.  My first draft was talking about how we can sometimes be like sheep, not the smartest creature on God’s green earth, and follow the wrong shepherd.  My second draft was basically an apology for all the ways that I don’t live up to the model that the Good Shepherd sets for us priests.  But neither of them “felt” right in my gut; not what God wanted me to say.
    The readings are not overly complicated.  Jesus calls Himself the gate and the shepherd in the Gospel, the second reading talks about how we had gone astray like sheep, and we heard the familiar psalm, “The Lord is my shepherd,” which is why this weekend of Easter is referred to as Good Shepherd Sunday.  But nothing was sticking as I prepared it.  So hopefully this does the job.  If not, chalk it up to an off-week.
    “‘I came that they might have life and have it more abundantly.’”  We get caught up in a lot of things in our day-to-day life.  We have responsibilities, concerns, points-of-view, and things that occupy first place in our mind.  Add to this all of the things that come to our mind with COVID-19.  And then there’s politics.  Oh how we love to engross ourselves in what’s happening politically, and whether or not it jives with our political views. 
    Now, all of those things are important.  If you don’t keep in mind that you need to feed your family, problems quickly ensue.  If you’re not noticing the green light changing to red, you could hurt yourself or another.  We need to be our brother’s keeper and practice good hygiene and social distancing to help lessen the spread of COVID-19.  And politics is certainly worth engaging in, as a way to make sure that the City of Man reflects, to the greatest extent possible, the City of God.  But is that living?  Or as the great George Strait, the King of Country, sang, “There’s a difference in living and living well.”      Jesus, the King of Kings, and King of George Strait, said, “‘Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life…Is not life more than food and the body more than clothing?’”  Paying attention to food, money, traffic, viruses, and politics are all important.  But do we really think that’s what Jesus meant when He said that He came to give us abundant life?  Is abundant life the daily grind to make a living and provide for the family?  Is abundant life just watching cars on the road and traffic signals?  Do you feel you’re living an abundant life trying to navigate the ever-changing rules on how not to spread COVID-19?  Is sharing and retweeting political posts and arguing and trolling people really what we think is of the utmost importance in life?
    Jesus did not come to bring us a life slightly better than the one we have now.  The life that Jesus came to bring, the life He came to shepherd us to, is more different than we could ever imagine.  It’s not an improvement where we’re still giving the most thought and concern on our the day-to-day, but a life filled with the grace and power and love of God.  Jesus did not come to shepherd us from one good pasture to another.  He came to shepherd us from death to life, from darkness to light, from sorrow to joy. 
    The saints sometimes get foretastes of this abundant life, and we hear about saints who go into ecstasy–the overwhelming experience of pure happiness, not the drug–as they have communion with God.  They give us an example, as a way to encourage us on with them to what Christ desires for us all. 
    That’s what made the Apostles preach as they did, as we heard in the first reading.  This reading is part of St. Peter’s speech at Pentecost, where the Apostles and disciples were so ecstatic (literally from the Greek meaning out of the everyday status) that people thought they were drunk.  But Peter, having experienced the joy of the Risen Christ, and given the power of the Holy Spirit to preach it, had to tell the people what they knew.  Or, as St. Paul would later say, “Woe to me if I do not preach the Gospel.”  And it’s not merely telling the people about Jesus and the abundant life He offers.  It’s also about repenting, being baptized, and receiving the Holy Spirit to receive that promise of abundant life. 
    So do you want that abundant life, or do you want to settle for the humdrum in which we so often find ourselves?  Abundant life is your inheritance, your birthright through baptism; you need only claim it.  Yes, we will still have to operate in this world and be mindful of all of our daily needs and activities.  But our hearts and minds can already be joined to God, and we can, even now, enjoy the verdant pastures where Christ, the Good Shepherd, desires to guide us to enjoy abundant life.