A Surprise Every Time

Easter Sunday

The sections in brackets [] are for the Extraordinary Form Mass only.
    [In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.]. In Episode III of Star Wars (the sixth Star Wars movie made) there is a scene that takes place toward the end of the movie, a scene that I always wish would change.  Spoiler alert, for those who haven’t seen it yet.  Emperor Palpatine, the Sith Lord, is lying at the edge of a window that has been shattered, and Jedi Master Mace Windu is about to kill him.  Young Jedi Anakin Skywalker is looking on, having alerted Master Windu that the emperor was the Sith Lord the Jedi had been searching for during the past two movies.  Emperor Palpatine pleads with Anakin to save him, so that the Sith can help Anakin save his wife, Padmé.   Right before Master Windu is about to dispatch the Sith Lord, Anakin intervenes, and Emperor Palpatine is able to disarm and then kill Master Windu.  It’s at this point that Anakin pledges his allegiance to Emperor Palpatine, and becomes Darth Vader.

Palpatine killing Mace Windu

    No matter how many times I have seen that movie, I always want Anakin to simply allow Mace Windu to kill Emperor Palpatine, and stop all the horrors that Darth Vader would cause from that point on.  It’s not a surprise when the scene plays out as it always does, but I’m always in suspense in case somehow, against all odds and all reason, good triumphs in that moment.  Most other movies that I have seen before I am resigned to watch what I know will happen, but with this movie, for some reason, I’m always a little shocked that it follows as it does.
    When it comes to the Resurrection, it’s a movie we’ve seen before.  We know Christ rises from the dead.  We know, when we hear the Gospel that the tomb will be empty.  But what is our response?  Is it a blasé acceptance of facts, or does it hit us fresh each time?  Are we pleasantly surprised that good actually triumphed over evil, and that sin and death were conquered?

An image of the Resurrection from where it happened

    Those first disciples were certainly surprised.  The Evangelists makes clear that no one expected Jesus to rise from the dead (though the Blessed Mother may be an exception to that general rule).  But when they realized it was true, it changed the way they lived their lives.  It gave them hope in the midst of doubt, light in times of darkness, and courage when their enemies pressed all around them. 
    The first disciples lived with the new yeast, leavening their entire lives.  They lived in sincerity and truth, knowing that if the worst that the world could throw at God couldn’t conquer Him, then nothing could.  And if they were with Him, then they couldn’t be conquered, either.  They lived as those utterly convinced that if God was for them, who could be against them?  Especially in the first centuries of the Church, but even continuing into the bloodiest century for Christians ever–the twentieth century, which produced more martyrs than every other century combined–Christians were under regular attack, and not simply with words, or shutting down social media accounts, but pouring oil on them, attaching them to posts, and lighting them on fire to provide lamps through the streets of Rome; crucifying them in mockery of their Lord; sending wild and starving beasts after them in circuses around the Roman world; or, if they were a Roman citizen, executing the more humane sentence of beheading. 
    They gathered in secret in those first few centuries, in various centuries since, and this still continues today in certain places in the Middle East, in China, and in parts of Africa.  They didn’t mind that Mass might not be at a time they wanted, or as often as they wanted, but were happy to be able to gather and be strengthened by God’s Word and the Body and Blood of Christ.  
    So, do we live differently because of the Resurrection?  Are we casting out the old yeast malice and wickedness?  Does coming to this altar of God restore the joy of our youth?  Does it affect the way that we treat each other on the road, in our families, at our job?  Do we want to share the joy of our relationship with Christ, or are we happy to keep it to ourselves?  St. Mark describes the disciples as “utterly amazed.”  You can imagine the thoughts running through Peter and John’s head when they found the empty tomb and the burial cloths off to the side.  When people see the difference that the Resurrection makes in our life, are they utterly amazed?  What thoughts run through other people’s minds as they see us living in the light of the Resurrection?  Do they even see a difference?
    This story, this real-life story of the Resurrection, does not have to be humdrum.  It can feel new every time we watch it, like that scene from Star Wars is to me.  If it doesn’t strike us that way, pray to God to make it new in your life.  Spend time in front of the Blessed Sacrament and ask the Lord to remind you how powerful the Resurrection is, to stir into faith the realization that Christ has conquered sin and death, and if sin and death cannot find victory over Christ, then nothing can gain the victory over us if we’re connected to Christ.  Today makes everything different.  Make sure that others know the difference of the Resurrection by witnessing you!  [In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Sprit.  Amen.]

Because of Love

 Good Friday of the Passion of the Lord

    About a month ago a Trooper I know well and his wife had their first child, a baby boy.  In the first few weeks I would check in with him about how things were going and how much sleep he and they were getting.  Those of you who have had babies know that, especially in the first few weeks, sleep is a bit of a luxury.  Their child was very used to sleeping during the day, but being awake at night.  Still, even with this lack of sleep, it was really touching to see how much this Trooper and his wife loves their son.
    The Trooper was talking to me one day about how he even loves changing his son’s diaper, because it’s his son.  This Trooper has nieces and nephews already, and he doesn’t really change their diapers, and has no desire to do so.  But, he said (and I’ve made this rated G since we’re at Mass), he is happy to wipe his son’s poop away because of how much he loves his son.  
    When we think about Good Friday, and what Jesus did for us, we often immediately go to the suffering, and how necessary it was that Christ should suffer and die.  Our first reading today from Isaiah lays out how the suffering servant of the Lord, Jesus, would take our sins upon himself and suffer chastisements for us to make us whole.  
    We often immediately focus on Jesus paying the price for our sins.  The wages of sin is death, St. Paul says, and so we recognize how Jesus took upon Himself that penalty that He did not earn (because He had never sinned) so that all of us sinners could have eternal life.  Sometimes this can make us have an image of God that is not accurate, as if God is some masochist who enjoys making others, especially His own Son, suffer.  We heard the agony of Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane, asking for another way, if it is possible, to save us, and it might make us wonder why God didn’t choose another means of salvation.
    But, I would like to suggest to you that we look upon Good Friday through the eyes of this Trooper and his (so far) only son.  Cleaning the feces from a baby’s butt is not an enjoyable task.  It stinks, it’s messy, and it often doesn’t happen easily because the baby is squirming around, or sometimes is not even done relieving himself when you remove the diaper.  But because it is his son, this Trooper finds delight in doing what he normally shuns and avoids.  
    So with us, God the Father, because of the Incarnation and by virtue of our baptism in which we were united to Christ, looks on us and sees His Son.  And what would otherwise be unbearable (as horrific as crucifixion is) becomes bearable because He is our Father.  And because Jesus and the Father are one, what the Father loves so does the Son (as well as the Holy Spirit).  So the Lord looks upon us with so great a love that nothing will stop Him from securing our salvation, and the possibility that we can be united with Him forever in Heaven, rather than being forever separated from Him in Hell.  
    There is no length that our God would not go to in order to save us.  He even descended to the gates of hell to rescue the just who were imprisoned there under Satan’s cruel guard.  His love for us cannot be imagined, and even the love of our earthly parents or even the love of our spouse falls short when compared to God’s love for us.  
    That love is what makes today happen.  Not some bloodlust.  Not some warped desire to make one person suffer for another person’s ease.  Simply love.  The love that created the universe; the love that holds everything in being; the love that knit us together in our mother’s womb.  That love will go to the greatest extreme possible to ensure the we, God’s beloved, are safe and wiped clean from the filth of sin with which we soiled ourselves.
    And it is to that love that we are invited to respond.  Yes, we are commanded to be obedient to God, just as we are commanded to be obedient to our parents, especially as young children.  Sometimes the delight that we should have in God is not present in our hearts because of sin or because of our lack of gratitude.  But that obedience is meant to stir back up in us the reciprocation of love for God that He first showered on us.  That is part of how the Lord wants us to be like children.  Children, especially babies, delight in their parents.  There is nothing quite like the smile of a baby being held in the arms of his mother and/or father.  The child, even before it can verbalize its love, senses the love from its parents and wants to return it.  So we, the children of God, should want to return, to the best of our ability, that love that God has for us, the love that even made going to the Cross worth it so that we could be reunited with God.
    Today, as you come forward to venerate the Cross, look upon it as the expression of how much God loves you and values your union with Him.  See the pain and the suffering, yes, but see the love of our Heavenly Father and Jesus our Brother which took that suffering and death as simply another way that He could show much how much we are worth to Him, and how much He loves us. 

The Ones the Lord Chooses

Mass of the Lord’s Supper
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  This is one of the weightier days for me as a priest.  I started this morning at the Chrism Mass, concelebrating with Bishop Boyea and my brother priests serving across the Diocese of Lansing.  Not only were the holy oils and Sacred Chrism blessed and consecrated, but we renewed the promises we made at our ordination.  It is a time of great joy, as we see each other again and catch up, and then celebrate the Mass together.  It’s a great way to celebrate the Institution of the ministerial priesthood, which took place on that first Holy Thursday.

    Then, as tonight starts, it is a very moving celebration, as I will wash the feet of twelve parishioners, this year from both St. Pius X and St. Matthew parishes.  What seems like a simple ritual has great import for me as a priest.  It is a reminder to me that my role as your pastor is to serve not to be served, and to give my life as a ransom for you.  Washing feet was awkward then because of the nature of how dirty feet were (given only sandals being worn, and likely some dung being mixed in with the dirt).  Now it’s the awkwardness of taking off shoes and socks.  But it is a treasured moment in my life. 
    Then, at the end of tonight, we will walk in solemn procession to the altar of repose and keep watch with our Lord, putting ourselves in Gethsemane.  The Lord was preparing for His Passion in Gethsemane.  At our altar of repose, I often think of the crosses I have borne in my ministry as pastor, some carried better than others.  I offer through Christ to the Eternal Father in the power of the Holy Spirit all that weighs upon me and all that weighs upon you as we seek to know and follow the will of God in our lives, no matter how joyful or painful it may be from day to day. 
    Returning to the washing of the feet, I couldn’t help but think of the Apostles, and what our Lord was doing for them, mixed bag as they were.  I think we have a tendency to think of them more like statues than anything else, religious icons of peace and serenity.  But the Gospels paint them as anything but.  Matthew, the tax collector and our patron here, was probably not easily accepted into the apostolic college, and perhaps treated with a bit of contempt among his fellow Apostles.  James and John were full of zeal, and John seems to have had a special bond with the Lord, perhaps because he was the only Apostle who was unmarried, like Jesus.  Andrew in the Gospels is a helper, as he is the one who brings the boy with the five loaves and the two fish to Christ.  Philip and Nathanael are pretty pragmatic, as Nathanael wonders if anything good can come from Nazareth and doesn’t believe until the Lord knows that Nathanael had been sitting under a tree, and Philip wonders how Christ could feed five thousand, given how many days’ wages it would have cost to secure food.  In the Last Supper discourse, Philip will also ask Christ to show them the Father, and that will be enough for them, to which the Lord responds that He who sees Him sees the Father.  We know little about the Simon, other than Simon belonged to the party of the Zealots, and James the Lesser was a cousin of the Lord.  Jude asks at the Last Supper why the Lord will reveal Himself to them only and not to the world, so perhaps he was hoping for a conquering king as a Messiah.  
    And then we come to Peter.  Peter was likely an extrovert, as he had to say something before he understood what he was thinking.  He has moments of greatness (think of his two great lines: “You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God” and “To whom shall we go?  You have the words of everlasting life”); he has moments where you want to face palm (probably not a good thing if Christ says to you, “Get behind me, Satan”).  He at first refuses to have the Lord wash his feet, but then asks for an entire bath instead.  He swears he will not deny Christ, only to do so some hours later. 
    And, of course, Judas.  Christ washes his feet, but then Judas leaves in order to betray Christ.  Dante puts Judas in the lowest level of Hell because of his betrayal of God, even going so far as to betray the Prince of Peace with a kiss of peace.  He later regrets his betrayal, but despairs and takes his own life in shame.
    These were the ones Christ came to serve.  They were as different, unique, and diverse as we are.  They were not perfect; some far from it.  And yet Christ chose them.  He chose them to be His first priests, to hand on the mysteries of the kingdom of heaven, which are not mind-teasers to be solved, but realities expressed in symbol that run far deeper than their physical representation.  He did so knowing that one would betray Him, and one would deny Him.  He did so knowing that all would scatter from the garden at His arrest, and only one would be at the foot of the cross with Him at His moment of greatest need.
    And that should give us hope.  Because Christ chose us, too.  He chose us knowing that we would sometimes fail, that we would sometimes deny that we know the Lord, and that we would sometimes abandon Him when the going got tough.  He knew that at times we, like Judas, would betray Him.  He chose us with our differences, our idiosyncrasies, our unique ways of seeing the world. 
    And, as long as we have repented for those times of betrayal, denial, and abandonment through the Sacrament of Penance, He invites us to eat of His Body, to be strengthened so that next time we might not betray, deny, and abandon.  Just as He instituted the Eucharist at the Last Supper, the mystery of His Passion and Death presented for us under the appearance of bread and wine, but truly His Body and Blood, so He gives us Himself tonight so that we can stand with Him through His Passion, made present for us in these sacred liturgies of the Triduum. 
    The great sign of Christ’s service for us is how He gives Himself to us each time the Holy Mass is celebrated.  He serves us by nourishing us, strengthening us, sacrificing Himself for us so that we can have life within us.  As the hymn sings, “What wondrous love is this!” 
    So tonight, as you approach the altar to receive the Lord on your tongue, think not on your differences from each other; think not on the great things you have said of our Lord, or the horrible ways you have denied even knowing Him; think not on how you have helped the Lord to be known, or hidden His truth out of fear.  Think only of His love for you, a love that was obedient even to the point of death, death on the cross.  In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  

Christ's Rights

 Palm Sunday of the Lord’s Passion/Palm Sunday in Lent

The sections listed in brackets [] are for the Extraordinary Form only
    [In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.].  In the United States we concentrate a lot on rights.  We talk about our rights as something to be guarded at all costs.  And some of them are very important.  Certainly at the top of the list is the right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.  But we also raise to the highest level lesser rights, things that are man-made laws.  Again, they may be important for a well-ordered society in some cases.  But we sometimes treat them as if they’re a sacred cow.
    Juxtaposed to this focus with rights is Christ in our readings.  All things belong to Christ.  He is King of kings and Lord of lords.  He created all things and sustains all things in being.  As He enters into Jerusalem, He enters into His City.  He is Son of David, entering into the City of David.  And the crowd feels it.  They sense that there is something more to Him than simply being an itinerant rabbi from Nazareth.  They wave their palms and lay their cloaks down, not unlike when David brought the Ark of the Covenant into Jerusalem.  

    The Lord has the right of calling on His attendants, the angels, to wait on Him in His city.  He has the right to cast out all those who oppose Him, as He Himself referenced in a parable earlier in His ministry.  And He does cast out the money changers.  But He does not set-up His own government.  He does not expel the Romans, and call down fire from the heavens to burn them up, and James and John suggested He do when the Samaritans would not welcome Him because He and His Apostles journeyed to Jerusalem.  
    Christ has the right to confound the religious leaders of His day, who are intent on getting rid of the One they fail to acknowledge as the Messiah.  He does not give in to their traps, though He sees them, but He doesn’t demand that they profess Him as the Messiah in front of the crowds, who have some sense that Jesus could be the one for whom they have been waiting.  
    In sum, the Lord did not deem equality with God something to be grasped.  Rather, He emptied Himself and took the form of a slave, being born in the likeness of men.  He even “humbled himself, becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.”  Christ seems to give up every right that is His.  He could insist on so much, but insisted on nothing other than doing His Father’s will, no matter the cost.  His thought was not on right, but on responsibility.  
    As disciples who are supposed to pattern our life on Christ, is that the way that we live?  Do we cling to what we believe is ours, our rights, or do we humble ourselves in obedience to the Father’s will?  Are we and our desires the most important things in life, or is the Father?    Our Lord reminds us that whoever exalts himself and his desires will be humbled.  Whoever humbles himself will be exalted.  
    As we enter into this holiest of weeks, the Lord invites us to pattern our life on His, not on grasping on to our rights, but emptying ourselves in service to the Father’s will.  If we humble ourselves like Christ, then we will be exalted with Christ by the Father.  If we die with Christ, we will rise with Him in glory, [where He lives and reigns with the Father and the Holy Spirit, for ever and ever.  Amen].

Lunatic, Liar, or Lord

Passion Sunday
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  
 

"I am trying here to prevent anyone saying the really foolish thing that people often say about Him [that is, Christ]: ‘I’m ready to accept Jesus as a great moral teacher, but I don’t accept His claim to be God.’  That is the one thing we must not say.  A man who was merely a man and said the sort of things Jesus said would not be a great moral teacher.  He would either be a lunatic–on a level with the man who says he is a poached egg–or else he would be the Devil of Hell.  You must make your choice.  Either this man was, and is, the Son of God: or else a madman or something worse….You can shut Him up for a fool, you can spit at Him and kill Him as a demon; or you can fall at His feet and call Him Lord and God.  But let us not come up with any patronising [sic] nonsense about His being a great human teacher.  He has not left that open to us.  He did not intend to."

These words come from the great Anglican writer, C.S. Lewis in his work Mere Christianity.  And though Lewis never swam the Tiber, he certainly was a man faith in Christ.  

C.S. Lewis

                    Our Gospel and Epistle today lay out how our Lord is different, not just in His style of preaching or even His content, but categorically different than everyone who came before, or anyone who would come after Him.  As Lewis writes, we cannot simply refer to Him as one of a great line of human teachers.  To do so is to ignore the witness of the Gospels and the other New Testament revealed texts.
    The author of the “Letter to the Hebrews” starts by contrasting the sacrificial system of the Temple in Jerusalem, and the sacrifice of Christ in the Heavenly Jerusalem, the temple built without hands.  The Aaronic priests would offer sacrifices throughout the year of many types: atonement, peace offerings, grain offerings, thanksgiving sacrifices, votive sacrifices (those connected to vows made), etc.  Goats, sheep, bulls, lambs, grain, wine, oil: all these things would be offered according to what God revealed through Moses and the sacrificial system expressed in the Books of Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy.  And these did bring about ritual purity: the cleansing of the flesh.
    But our Lord offered Himself not with a dumb animal’s blood, but with His own Precious Blood, the blood of a truly unblemished lamb.  And His sacrifice, made once for all, did not only cleanse the flesh, but cleansed the conscience, the soul.  All sacrifices were meant to bring a person into right relationship with God.  They were vicarious ways of saying that the person offering was giving up his life to offer it to God.  Christ’s sacrifice was not vicarious, though, in the sense that He offered something else.  He offered Himself, and in Him all who would be united to Him.  And it wasn’t only to temporarily bring us into right relationship with God, but to change us to be like Christ, adopted sons and daughters in the Son of God, which opened for us eternal union with God in heaven, the ultimate goal of right relationship with God.  
    In the Gospel, too, our Lord distinguishes Himself from all others who came before Him in Judaism.  And the Jews notice it.  They ask if Christ is greater than Abraham and the prophets.  And through the back and forth, the Lord affirms that He is greater, leading up to the climactic phrase of this passage, “Before Abraham came to be, I AM.”  This hearkens us back to the great Theophany to Moses on Mt. Sinai, when God reveals His Name to Moses, “I AM WHO AM.”  And the Jews recognize this, because they immediately pick up stones to stone the Lord to death, the penalty for blasphemy.  Christ claims not simply to be a great rabbi who authentically interprets the Law and the Prophets, but the one about whom the Law and the Prophets referred, the source of their power and authority.  
    What does this have to do with us?  Well, while we’re all here, so we must acknowledge in some sense that Christ is different than any other religious leader, it is very easy in our mind and practices to treat Him simply like another guru.  It is easy to think simply of laws that we need to follow and prayers we need to say, without recognizing the adoration that we owe to the Lord and that we are not simply listening to another faith teacher, but dealing with the Lord who made all the universe.  
    It is also very easy to pick and choose the religious leaders and minds to whom we want to listen.  We like this cardinal versus that one; this author more than another; give one blogger more credence than a different blogger.  And faith always come through someone else, so others participate in fostering our faith.  But we can so often get caught up in lower-level rules and practices, without having any real reference to Christ and what He specifically teaches.  Especially as Americans, we have recently tended to read religious leaders and what they promote through a political lens.  Do we go back to what Christ reveals, He who is God, and evaluate religious leaders and authors by those standards, rather than the ones with which we are more familiar and likely more comfortable, that is, how does this match up with my view of life and my political outlook?  In other words, to what do I give more weight: the Gospels or my favorite blog?
    Jesus is not just another religious leader.  He’s not only qualitatively different, but categorically different because He is the one who shares Divine Revelation as well as the source and content of Divine Revelation Himself.  May we be most concerned with the One who simply reveals Himself as “I AM”: God the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  Amen.