Why Are We Running?

Easter Sunday

    [In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen].  Forrest Gump, after returning home from the Vietnam War, and after he sold his shrimping company, and after he had tried to figure out what to do with his life, got off his porch and, as he said, “That day, for no particular reason, I decided to go for a little run.  So, I ran to the end of the road, and when I got there, I thought maybe I’d run to the end of town.”  He ends up running through his county, through Alabama, and across the United States.  In reflecting on his super marathon, Forrest says, “For no particular reason, I just kept on going.”
    While I have run the CRIM once, and sometimes run as part of my cardio workouts, I’m more in the camp of those who run solely because they’re being chased or chasing after someone.  And as for being chased, as long as you’re not the slowest, generally you’re ok.  
    But John’s account of the first Easter Sunday talks about Sts. Peter and John running to the tomb.  They run there to see if what St. Mary Magdalene said was true: that someone had taken the Lord.  John, who wrote the Gospel, adds what I like to think was a little fun jab at Peter: “They both ran, but the other disciple [that is, John] ran faster than Peter and arrived at the tomb first.”  Peter would have been in trouble if they were running from a bear.
    But they both ran with a purpose: to see the empty tomb.  They saw the burial cloths, and the cloth that had covered the head in a separate area.  They believed Mary Magdalene, that someone had taken the body somewhere else, as St. John makes clear, “they did not yet understand the Scripture that he had to rise from the dead.”  It would not be until the Risen Lord appeared in the Upper Room that evening that they would know that He had risen from the dead.  
    Do we, like Peter and John, run towards the resurrection?  Or do we, like Forrest Gump, run for no particular reason?  As followers of Christ, we should run towards a goal, not aimlessly.  Our life should be a run towards the risen Christ in heaven.  If we’re just running, with no goal in mind, we never know where we might end up, and it might not be in heaven.  
    As we go through each day and the different activities of life, we can treat the parts of the day like smaller races: waking up and getting myself and/or the kids ready–100 meter dash; working in or out of the home–3200 meter run; making dinner and cleaning up the house–400 meter dash.  And as we begin each race, we should do so with a prayer.  Maybe it’s a simple prayer as you wake up, like a morning offering, of even the short pious phrase, “My Mother, My Confidence!”, entrusting our day to the intercession of the Blessed Mother.  Maybe it’s the sign of the cross as you enter your car to drive to work, or as you begin a load of laundry at home.  Maybe it’s the Angelus on your lunch break.  Maybe it’s Grace Before and/or After Meals.  Maybe it’s a pray of thanksgiving as you put your kids to bed or go to bed yourself.  But praying throughout the day makes sure that we’re running towards a goal, and not just running like a chicken with its head cut off.  
    If we don’t focus our energy, we run towards other goals than heaven–earthly prosperity, power, fame–which do not endure and will not save us.  Or, it’s more like running on a treadmill, which expends the same amount of energy, but without actually going anywhere.  To share in Christ’s Resurrection, we have to want to get there.  Simply making our legs go back and forth won’t necessarily get us closer to the new life that Christ wants for us and that fulfills our human nature.  How sad would it be to find out, at the end of our life, that we ran the wrong way, or even didn’t run any distance, but only ran in place.  

The empty tomb in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre

    Today, let us join Sts. Peter and John, running toward an empty tomb, because Christ has risen from the dead.  Let us run the race that God has put before us, not aimlessly, but with our eyes fixed on our goal: heaven.  Each day we can run the small and long races, which hopefully push us closer to eternal life.  We use prayer to make sure we’re on the right track, the path that leads to heaven.  
    Forrest Gump later in the movie says, “I had run for three years, two months, fourteen days and sixteen hours….I’m pretty tired.  Think I’ll go home now.”  He had run for years, but without a purpose, without reaching a goal.  May our race of life have purpose, like Peter and John, and, spurred on by the grace and mercy of God, lead us to heaven.  [In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.]

The Gospel according to The Princess Bride

Easter (Vigil and Sunday)

    [In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.]  The cult classic movie “The Princess Bride” has so many memorable lines: “Hello.  My name is Iñigo Montoya.  You killed my father.  Prepare to die.”; “Inconceivable.”  “You keep using that word.  I do not think it means what you think it means.”; “Fezzik, are there rocks ahead?”  “If there are, we all be dead.”; and I won’t even mimic the wedding scene with the bishop speaking about marriage.  But, in my most recent viewing, I noticed another line that truly is a pearl, and one especially fitting for Easter.  Westley, dressed as the Dread Pirate Roberts, says to Buttercup, “Death cannot stop true love.  All it can do is delay it for a while.”
    While “The Princess Bride” is not the Gospel, that phrase describes in a pithy and beautiful way precisely what we celebrate at Easter.  Death could not stop true love.  All it did was delay it for a while.  The forces of darkness threw everything they had at Christ.  His own people rejected Him.  The Romans cowardly cowed to the Pharisees and Sadducees rather than risk loss of political prestige.  The Lord’s own Apostles (save John) abandoned Him and hid in an Upper Room, including one who even denied knowing Jesus.  Christ experienced excruciating pain, first from the scourging, where pieces of flesh were torn from His back; then from the crown of thorns thrust upon His head in mockery; then from the purple robe torn from His skin, which had joined to the blood and wounds earlier suffered; then from the nails hammered into His sacred flesh and into the cross.  All sin from all time, from Adam and Eve first disobeying God in the Garden of Eden to the last sin that will ever be committed right before the end of time, Christ took upon Himself, though innocent.  Everything that evil could pile on it did, and yet, as we celebrate tonight/today, evil could not win.  Death could not stop the love of God.
    And that still rings true today.  Death still cannot stop love.  “All it can do is delay it for a while.”   If we are connected to the love of Christ, nothing can stop us, not even death.  Yes, we can still endure pain and suffering and darkness from the forces of evil, but if we remain in the love of God, as did Christ, then even death will not have victory over us.  It may look like it does, as it has looked so many times throughout these two millennia of martyrs, but at the end of time, when the time of delay ends, those who remained in the love of Christ will be shown victorious.
    That love of Christ is not mere delight or pleasure, as we so often confuse love.  Love and truth are connected as closely as Divinity and Humanity in Christ.  Love, true Christian love, offers itself for the good of the other, and does not seek its own gain.  The love of God never goes against what God has revealed through Sacred Scripture and through the teachings of the Church.  God, who is Love, cannot contradict Himself, cannot allow what He has previously forbid, and cannot forbid anything that truly benefits us and helps us to be ourselves, as He created us. 

The inside of the Empty Tomb

   “Death cannot stop true love.”  And that is why death, though sad, is not the end.  In Christ’s Resurrection, all who remain in His love rise from the dead.  Yes, our bodies may return to the dust whence them came.  Yes, until all things are placed under the feet of Christ, our souls will wait for the resurrection of our bodies.  But that is but a delay, a slight delay when viewed in the perspective of eternity.  The enemies of God, whether those on earth or those under the earth, can throw everything they want at us.  But if we remain in Christ, we have nothing to fear, not even “though the earth should rock / though the mountains fall into the depths of the sea, / even though its waters rage and foam, / even though the mountains be shaken by its wave. // The Lord of hosts is with us: / the God of Jacob is our stronghold” as Psalm 46(45) states.
    We, the Church, are the princess bride.  Our beloved seemed to have left us for a while, but He returned.  And He reminded us then, and reminds us now, “Death cannot stop true love.  All it can do is delay it for a while.”  [In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.]

Just a Soul? False!

Third Sunday after Easter

    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  People can utilize social media well, and social media can lead to bad things or positions.  For example, someone I know recently posted a video of Rainn Wilson (Dwight from “The Office”) about how spirituality is so important because it is reality.  Ok, not so bad.  But then he goes on to say that we are not human beings have a spiritual experience, but spiritual beings have a human experience.  He goes on to say, “Who I am and what I am is not by body…”.  He continues on to talk about being connected to a higher reality, and the benefits of being connected to the divine.  To be clear, there are many benefits of being connected to God, especially for one’s overall health.  But that part in the middle stuck out like a sore thumb.
    Because it’s a heresy.  It’s just a rehashing of Manichaeism, which taught that the body was bad, or lesser than the spirit.  This was a pernicious heresy, to which St. Augustine of Hippo ascribed before he was baptized, and which swept Europe during the end of the first millennium, which gave rise to the preaching of the Dominicans fighting this old heresy with a new name (Albigensianism). 
    What is the drive that leads to such a push?  Well, probably one of two things.  On the one hand, we see so many natural evils that are no one’s personal choices, and so we might ascribe evil to the material of nature itself as a simplistic way to deal with why these natural evils happen without anyone willing them.
    On the other hand, when we sin, we can either accept responsibility for our actions and repent, or we can blame our actions on something else, and seek to avoid responsibility and punishment.  And we’ve been blaming someone else since the beginning.  “The woman you put here with me…”; “The serpent tricked me…”.  So if we can ascribe most of our evil actions to the body, and say that they don’t have an impact on the soul, then most of us are probably not only getting by when it comes to following God, but doing very well, and probably on the straight road to heaven.  If all you had to worry about was spiritual sins (judging others in your mind, not believing the right things, wishing others harm, but never following through with your actions), most of us are probably saints right now. 
    But, of course, we are not simply spirits.  We are a cohesive unity of spirit and body.  What we do to one, affects the other.  If we choose to sin in the body, it has effects on the soul.  And even when we sin at the level of our souls, there are effects on the body. 

    That unity is part of what we celebrate at Easter, and our belief in the union of body and soul is based upon the fact that Christ rose from the dead, not just in the spirit, as we will do at our death until the general resurrection at the end of time, but also in the body.  As He said in the Gospel today, “A little while, and you shall not see me, and a little while again and you will see me.”  He died, that is to say, His soul left His body, but then they were reunited and He returned to His disciples so that they could see Him again.  In some of the accounts of the Resurrection, the disciples think their Lord is a ghost, but He asks for food so that He could eat, and assured them that He was not a ghost.  Indeed, He asks Thomas to feel the wounds in His hands and side, not only as the proof that He is the same person, but that His body is there. 
    And because we are that union of soul and body, as confirmed to us by the Risen Lord, St. Peter can encourage us to refrain from our carnal desires.  Yes, sometimes what the soul wants and what the body wants are not the same thing.  But they are still in the battle for eternal life together, and what one does affects what happens to the other.  And this is not just with our desires to be fruitful and multiply, but also how we submit to legitimate authority, the example we give to believers and non-believers alike, so that they can see that the life to which Christ calls us is, in fact, possible, and helps us find true joy and freedom.
    Because the soul and body are one, even after we die, and our soul leaves our body, they will be reunited one day.  Hopefully we will receive a body for glory in the resurrection as we go to heaven, or perhaps have to be purified in Purgatory.  But, even the damned will receive back their body, or damnation and suffering, as they remain in Hell for all eternity.  Dante, describing those in the various circles of Hell, talks about the punishment that the bodies receive, from the punishments due to giving in to carnal desires, to the Beast, chomping on Judas and Brutus in the coldest, lowest level of Hell.  This is also why sometimes the martyrs are depicted with the wounds of their suffering, not because they suffer in heaven, but because what they allowed to happen to their bodies, rather than deny Christ, now becomes the sign of their victory, like St. Denis holding his head, St. Lucy holding her eyes, or St. Bartholomew holding his flayed skin.  

    That is also why our salvation is accomplished with physical things.  We don’t simply sit and think to ourselves: “I desire to be a child of God in the Son of God.  Now I am.”  No, we have water poured over our heads as the priest invokes the Blessed Trinity over us.  We do not simply sit in our rooms and think: “I am really sorry, and I’ll never do that again.”  The priest says, “I absolve you” with his audible voice.  We don’t only ask the Lord to fill us with Himself, but He gives Himself to us under the appearance of bread and wine, but that which is truly His Body and Blood, which we receive into us, so that He is closer to us than any other human could ever be.  God uses physical stuff with which our body interacts to create changes in the soul.  What happens to the one, affects the other. 
    So, if anyone ever suggests that we are simply spiritual beings, or souls trapped in a body, or that the material world is evil, which the spiritual world is good, you can counter with a direct quote from Dwight: “False!  Body; Blessing; Beatific Vision.”  In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  

No Backsliding

Second Sunday after Easter

    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  When I was a child, I usually gave up chocolates and sweets for Lent (even though I didn’t really like chocolate, and didn’t eat that many sweets because my parents didn’t really buy us any on a regular basis).  But it was the thing to do.  Then, on Easter morning, the Easter Basket would have lots of sweets in it (we also often did the chocolate bunnies), and I would go to town, seeming to make up for all the sweets I didn’t have over the past 40 days by indulging in those sweets the first few days of Easter (the sweets rarely made it beyond Easter Tuesday).
    Perhaps this is a familiar story to you.  Perhaps this is your own experience of Lent and Easter.  And to a certain extent, there’s nothing absolutely wrong.  I know some people gave up meat for Lent, and there’s nothing wrong with enjoying a nice steak as a way of celebrating Easter.  Or others, through Exodus 90, gave up warm water for their showers, so maybe Easter Sunday the hot shower was a little longer than usual.
    But one of the points of Lent is that we are growing closer to Christ, facilitated by those penances we take upon ourselves.  But Easter doesn’t mean that we move farther away from Christ, now that Lent is over.  In fact, each year God desires that we grow in holiness, even if in small ways, so that we don’t start at the same point in 2024 that we did in 2023.
    So how are you doing in living your Easter life?  Are you still growing closer to God through your prayers, weekly ascetical practices, and working on the virtues?  Or has it been more of the, “Phew! Thank God Lent’s over!  Now I can get back to all those bad habits that I used to have!”? 
    God wants us to follow Him closer and closer, like a sheep who not only hears the voice of the Good Shepherd, but stays closer and closer to Him in the pasture, and allows Him to lead us around, rather than having to chase after us and bring us back to the fold.  Because the closer we are to Christ, the less likely it is that we are going to feed on bad grass (i.e., bad doctrine, vicious habits), or be injured by wolves and other creatures that wish us harm (giving in to the temptations that the demons whisper in our ear). 

    Of course, none of this is possible by ourselves.  Christ, the Good Shepherd, laid down His life for us, His sheep.  He sacrificed Himself so that we could have live.  As St. Peter said in our epistle, “By his stripes we were healed.”  And because of that, we can die to sin and live in the virtue of justice.
    So what are the ways that you are growing your relationship with our Lord, and growing in your understanding of the faith?  You don’t have to take graduate-level courses, but are you engaged in what our parish offers for faith sharing groups and Bible studies?  We have a wonderful study on the Eucharist in the Scriptures that will start in May.  Have you checked to see if you can participate in it?  Or maybe you have a desire to study something else.  There are many online courses (some for free) that will guide you, like Fr. Mike Schmitz’s podcast “The Catechism in a Year.”  Or maybe it would be helpful for you to share your joys and struggles with others who are in similar situations, like various mom groups that we have in the parish and in the area, and see how God is helping you to be the best mom or dad, wife or husband, that you can be.  Or, if you’re younger, maybe try a new devotion in your life, like the Litany of Trust, or maybe organize a group of your friends to gather for prayer and a meal, or maybe prayer and some sporting event, or, if you’re of age, talk about your faith together at a local watering hole (with moderation in beverages, of course). 
    Lent is a time that is meant to turn us away from our sinful passions, and draw us closer to Christ.  And while it’s very appropriate to celebrate during Easter, we shouldn’t backslide, but should try to keep that strong relationship with Christ for which we worked so hard during Lent, so that when we come to Lent next year, we’re in a better place, and can work on getting rid of other sinful passions and drawing even closer to Christ.  God not only desires that we be in the same pasture with the Good Shepherd, but that we get closer and closer to Him, so that we can not only hear His shouting about remaining with Him, but even, like St. John the Apostle and Evangelist, lean upon His chest to hear His Sacred Heart and what He wants to whisper to us as His beloved.  May our Easter joy include the joy of being closer to our Lord Jesus Christ, who with the Father and the Holy Spirit, reigns for ever and ever.  Amen.

The Power of Easter

Easter Sunday
    [In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.].  What does Easter mean to you?  You have come here to Mass, so it clearly has some religious importance for you.  Perhaps it is also a day with extra time spent with extended family, and maybe a better meal than usual.  But I dare guess that Easter does not have the same potency for us as it did for our Lord’s first disciples.
    Part of the waning of the extraordinary nature of Easter is due to a lack of appreciation of the seriousness of sin.  Whether it directly affects us or not, we all live in an environment that supposes that everyone is basically good, and everyone generally goes to heaven.  The first disciples did not suffer that opinion; their experience told them the exact opposite.
    The disciples lived in a time when a foreign power occupied their homeland.  This foreign power, the Romans, pushed their pagan views upon all under their rule.  They promoted worshipping false gods; sexual immorality, both homo- and heterosexual in nature; violence and intimidation as the surest way to keep peace (we might say today: might makes right). 
    But the Romans were not the only problem for the Jews.  No, there was real spiritual oppression by their own religious leaders, twisting the law and its meaning.  No small number of Jews found themselves in a position outside of what the Pharisees taught as a moral way of life.  How often do the Gospels relate that tax collectors and sinners were following Christ and changing their lives!  There were also many diseases and illnesses that could shorten a person’s life or lead them to be ostracized from even family and friends.
    Among the Romans, the Pharisees, sickness, and a lack of personal holiness, the disciples knew they needed a savior.  They knew that they had to change, but didn’t know if they could do it.  They hoped for life after death, a place of the fullness of blessings and peace, but did not know if such a place were attainable. 
    We ourselves live in a time that differs greatly and in some ways not at all from the time of the disciples.  Advances in medicine have extended life expectancy, but there are new diseases being developed, and wreaking havoc across the world.  Some Catholic bishops, priests, and laity promote teachings contrary to the faith.  Rather than a foreign government pushing their will upon a particular people, a wide-sweeping acceptance of worship of money and power, sexual immorality of various kinds, seemingly endless violence, even against children, and a might-makes-right mentality are ubiquitous. 
    The power of Easter is that God the Son conquered all that is wrong and fallen through His Death and Resurrection.  We no longer have to wonder if life after death is possible; Christ died and came back to life.  If death, the consequence of sin, no longer has the last word, then everything good and holy is possible.  No power, whether earthly or spiritual, can hold us back if we are in Christ.  No oppressor will have the final victory over us if we belong to Christ, the Victor over sin, death, and everything that connects itself to those fallen realities.
    Easter gives us the answer, just as it gave the answer to the first disciples, and has given the answer to countless generations since then.  Easter is a reminder that sin and death do not get the last word, but God does, because God conquered sin and death in Christ.  If we want Easter to make a difference, and not just be a Sunday where we eat better food and see other relatives, then we must take hold of the Easter graces and practices and live them out each day and each week.  If we want to see endless violence and suffering end, then we need to live as Easter people.
    Easter means making God number one in our life.  Not sports.  Not vacations.  Not relaxation.  Not exercise.  Not even another person, as dear as they may be to us.  God has to be number one.  Those other things and many more are good, but they cannot take the place of God.  If you want the reign of sin and death to which we have grown so accustomed to end, go to church every Sunday and Holyday, not simply to go, but to be transformed by the grace of God.  Go to confession at least every month, to acknowledge that you are a sinner and in need of God’s mercy.  Allow Christ’s victory over sin to take hold in your life by handing over to Christ all that is fallen and sinful, and receive the mercy which makes possible true transformation. 
    Easter means not supporting death, in any of its forms.  If we wish to live in Easter joy, we cannot re-invite the works of death into our life, or the life of others.  In its most extreme positions, it means not supporting abortion or euthanasia.  How can we not expect death and destruction when it’s openly voted for and codified in law?  When we devalue one human life, we devalue all human lives.  Other works of death include racism, unjust prejudice, and even those actions and thoughts of hatred towards other at work, on the road, or in any other place.  None of those are part of the new life that Christ brought.  The demonization of those who have different views, even if the ideas they propose are wrong, does not contribute to the new life that Christ desires for us. 
    If we wish Easter to be more than simply another Sunday; if we wish to see an end to the widespread violence and hate, then we need to open ourselves up to the graces from God that take us away from death and lead us to eternal life.  Go to church every Sunday and Holyday; go to confession regularly; stop supporting works of death.  If we want the joy and peace of Easter, of Christ’s victory over sin and death, then live His life each day to the best of your ability.  Allow the power of Easter to resonate in every inch of our being.  [In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.]

The Draw of a Baby

 Solemnity of the Nativity of the Lord–Vigil Mass
    Special Masses like the Sacred Tridduum, Easter, and Christmas, often have special rituals associated with them for priests.  At Holy Thursday and Good Friday we have special rites that remember the Lord’s institution of the Eucharist and the Priesthood, as well as His Passion.  At the Easter Vigil we hear the great hymn of the Exultet.  And tonight, at Christmas, we placed the baby Jesus in the creche for the first time this Christmas season.  There is something that is truly awesome (filling me with awe) when I take the baby Jesus and kneel down to put Him in the manger.
    There is something special about children.  Even the gruffest, stone-faced person can become a pile of mush in the presence of a baby.  Yes, babies are a lot of work, but their simply, loving presence can fill a room with warmth and joy.  And when a baby cries, everyone wants to make sure that the child is ok.  Mothers, in particular, seem to have special hearing when it comes to listening for the cries of a little one.

    Tonight we celebrate our God-made-man, but not yet fully a man, but a little baby.  Mary and Joseph, who knew their child to be God must have had reactions to Jesus in two different ways.  On the one hand, Jesus was Mary’s child and in the paternal care of Joseph.  He was theirs, and depended on both of them for all of His needs.  In some ways He was like any other child, filling the Holy Family with joy and warmth, and yet also calling for their attention as He cried for whatever needs He had at each moment.  On the other hand, He was also God, and so took on special attention and adoration of Mary and Joseph.  
    To outsiders, too–the shepherds and maybe the neighbors in Bethlehem–Jesus must have drawn their attention.  Perhaps they didn’t quite recognize that Jesus was God, and yet He was a baby, who draws people in by their innocence and dependence.  And this is the genius of God: that in coming to us, God did not choose to become a powerful ruler with great strength; God did not appear as an angel full of light and power; God chose to become, in Jesus, a little baby, who depended others for His safety and basic needs.  He was vulnerable in the womb of the Blessed Virgin Mary at the Annunciation, and remained vulnerable especially throughout his childhood.  Did God choose to become a baby because He knew that we would be drawn by a little child, or are we drawn to little children because God wrote within our very being a desire for everyone who appears like the Christ-child?  In either case, God appeared to us not in strength, but in weakness; not in power, but in fragility; not as a grown warrior, but as a defenseless baby.
    Many saints have imagined themselves being at Bethlehem when Jesus was born.  Perhaps you have, too.  You have wondered what it would be like to hear the angels singing, “Glory to God in the highest” in the night sky over Bethlehem.  You have wondered what it would be like to go to the cave, where Jesus was born (though many of you probably think of the barn-like structure that St. Francis of Assisi made popular).  Perhaps you have imagined yourself standing next to Mary or Joseph, and maybe even asking to hold baby Jesus for a moment, and just looking at Him and smiling, as He smiles back to, or sleeps soundly in your arms, swaddled in a cloth.  
    But in this time of waiting for Christ to return, Christ is still vulnerable to us.  While He is King of kings and Lord of lords, reigning from His throne in heaven, He still does not force Himself on us in power, but waits for us to come to Him, to be filled with His joy, to listen for His voice.  And we are free to care for Him tenderly, to hear His voice, or to ignore Him and be deaf to His cries.
    I carried at this Mass in my arms an image of baby Jesus, small and fragile.  But I hold the true Jesus, not just an image, every time I celebrate Mass.  Each time I hold in my hands the sacred host, made the Body and Blood of Jesus through the power of the Holy Spirit and my ministry, unworthy though I am, I hold Jesus who was born for us in my hands, and He is vulnerable.  Each time I proclaim the Gospel, I hear Jesus’ cries of love for us as He shares who God the Father is, how much He loves us, and how beautiful the Kingdom of Heaven is, for those who are willing to follow Him.  
    And the same is true for everyone here.  God makes Himself vulnerable for you.  He cries out for you.  Each Sunday and Holyday He cries for us to come and spend time with Him, not to attend to His needs as much as to fulfill our own need for God, to fill the empty hole in our hearts that can only be satisfied by God.  Each Mass Jesus allows Himself to be received in the Eucharist, to be fragile on our tongue, or in our hands.  We can receive Jesus lovingly in a state of grace, if we are unaware of any serious sins that have separated us from God.  Each Mass Jesus speaks to us of how much He loves us, and how He desires us to live in accordance with His will, and not our own; to live in the light, and not in the darkness; to be people of peace and not of hatred, prejudice, and violence.  Jesus cries out to us to live according to His pattern of life, and not the selfish life that the world proclaims.  And we can heed His cries and His invitation, or we can ignore it.  We can care for Him with the way we live our lives, or we can abandon Him and pretend He doesn’t exist, or that He is not important to us.
    Tonight God draws us in, as a little child, innocent and vulnerable, as we celebrate Christmas.  Like a baby, God makes Himself small for us that we can approach Him and love Him.  We are invited to see the warmth and joy of the Christ-child’s face, and to listen attentively to His voice, not only today, but every day, week, and month of the year.  “What child is this /who laid to rest / on Mary’s lap is sleeping?”  “O come, let us adore him Christ the Lord!”

"Where, O Death, is Thy Sting?"

 Easter Sunday

Inside Jesus' empty tomb

    According to the Michigan Vital Records, 115,408 people died in the year 2020 from causes including cancer, heart disease, COPD, stroke, pneumonia and flu, septicemia, and COVID-19 (this is probably not the way you thought the homily for Easter was going to begin, is it?).  Two of those deaths in 2020 were my grandfathers, Jesse Perez and Fred Strouse, Sr.  Twenty-seven other deaths were parishioners at St. Pius X parish.  Perhaps others were family or friends of yours.  
    I haven’t seen a number, but I have to believe that the amount of money spent on pills, creams, liquids, etc. to prolong life is a staggering amount of money.  After all, living is certainly better than dying.  And those who disagree, tend to overwhelmingly be the kind of people who are still alive (dead people tend to not respond to surveys).  
    Our bodies, too, are equipped for life.  Parents are quite good at calling the bluff of children who say that they’re going to hold their breath until they die, because parents know that, if a child did actually try to stop breathing, eventually the body will go into autopilot, restart, and get you breathing again.  While I can’t point to any science, I remember learning somewhere that the last parts of your body to shut-down, should you be in a very cold environment, are those that deal with life, especially the brain, heart, and lungs.  We are hard wired for life.  There’s even a phobia for death: thanataphobia.  
    But as Catholics, we should not fear death.  Now, to be clear, I’m not saying we should go looking for it, either.  We should not embrace euthanasia nor seek to end our own life.  But today makes everything different for us.  Easter changes our perspective on death.
    Easter, in case we have forgotten over the years, is the celebration of Jesus rising from the dead.  Jesus was truly dead; it wasn’t a trick, it wasn’t an illusion.  Jesus was dead.  But three days later, He came back to life.  There were witnesses to this, including St. Mary Magdalene, the first to see the risen Christ, St. John the Apostle, who was there at the cross when Jesus died, and a few others.  What will become clear in the Gospels over the next few weeks is that no one expected the Resurrection to happen.  This wasn’t some group psychosis from people who wanted something to be true.  If the Gospels tell us anything about the expectation for the Resurrection, they make clear that expectation didn’t exist.  If the apostles thought that Jesus was coming back, why were they amazed at the empty tomb?  Why be amazed when He appeared on the road to Emmaus, in the Upper Room, and to many others, not the least of whom was St. Paul on the road to Damascus.
    And yet, despite the disciples’ lack of hope in the Resurrection, they all say He rose.  And Jesus Himself, as we hear in the Easter Gospels, will prove that it’s Him by the wounds on His body, and by eating with them.  And from that point on, for those who believe, death has not seemed that remarkable.  
    This is not to say that death is not sad, or to make light of it.  I still can get tears in my eyes from people I’ve loved who have died.  Perhaps as a priest the waves of grief are more common, and yet less strong, because I help families grieve a death on a regular basis.  But it hurts not having a loved one around anymore.  I’ve recently tried my hand at making Spanish rice that my grandmother used to make when she was alive.  I’ve gotten decent, but it’s not the same, and there’s a certain frustration in not being able to taste it how she made it.
    But Jesus’ Resurrection is not a story from 2,000 years ago that stays in the past.  It is meant to inform our present, as well.  Jesus conquering death means that death is not the end, and we do not have to have thanataphobia, the fear of death.  Jesus’ Resurrection paves the way for ours, as well, and changes the way we look at death.  It’s possible that we can go to heaven, because Christ has shown us the way.  Through the gift of self to the Father, through laying down one’s life for one’s beloved, through following Jesus with all of who we are, death becomes a transition from this life to the life to come.  
    Again, I’m not saying that we can be reckless with life.  I wear my seatbelt; I don’t play in traffic; I don’t only eat junk food; I go to the doctor; etc., etc.  I don’t take life lightly, but I try not to give death more than its due.  Our hope in the resurrection is not only meant to help us feel better about loved ones who die.  Our hope in the resurrection is meant to give us courage to live the radical life Jesus calls us to, a life lived entirely for Him.  What gave the martyrs the ability to suffer horrible torments of body?  At the end of the day, the worst anyone could do is make them die, and death wasn’t so terrible, because Jesus had risen from the dead.  The worst that Roman officials, and barbarian kings, and tribal warriors, and heads of state, and Nazi and Communist guards could do had already been done, and Jesus had conquered it.  
    As followers of Jesus we are not to take life lightly.  We are to value and treasure every human life, and work to promote its growth and development in virtue and faith and love.  Death is not a fate to be avoided at all costs, something for which we would give up anything.  Death, as part of God’s will and according to His plan, is another part of the life that God has told us will go on forever, hopefully in heaven.  
    How does not fearing death change you today?  What do you do differently if death is conquered and has no more power?  How does Jesus’ Resurrection, which we celebrate today and every Sunday, make you live for Him?

Entrance to the empty tomb in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, Jerusalem

Plethoras of Alleluias!

Easter Sunday of the Resurrection of the Lord

    One of the great comedic movies of the 1980s is “Three Amigos” with Steve Martin, Chevy Chase, and Martin Short.  If you’re not familiar with the movie, it’s about three actors in the early twentieth century, who think they’re going to a film shoot in Mexico, only to learn that the locals think that they’re real heroes, and have sought their help to conquer the villain, El Guapo.  There are too many good lines to quote here, and you can probably watch it online somewhere (it’s rated PG, but parents should screen it first to make sure it’s appropriate for their children).
    But, in one exchange between El Guapo, and his chief henchman, Jefe, as they are planning his birthday party, El Guapo asks, “Would you say I have a plethora of piñatas?”  Jefe responds, “A what?”  El Guapo repeats, “A plethora.”  Jefe responds, “Oh yes, you have a plethora.”  El Guapo then asks, “Jefe, what is a plethora?”  Jefe asks back, “Why, El Guapo?”  El Guapo responds, “Well, you told me I have a plethora.  And I just would like to know if you know what a plethora is.  I would not like to think that a person would tell someone he has a plethora, and then find out that that person has no idea what it means to have a plethora.”
    We have a word that we use, especially during the Easter season, but do we know what it means?  What is that word?  It’s not plethora.  It’s Alleluia!  We sing it so often during Easter, and we put it away during Lent, but do we know that Alleluia means?  It’s one of the few Hebrew words that the church retains untranslated, it means “God be praised,” and it’s a response of joy.  It comes from the Hallel psalms in the Bible, psalms 113-118, and many Jews still pray these psalms especially on the most important Jewish feast days.  So, as those who follow the fulfillment of Judaism, it is right that we say, on our most important feast days, Hallelujah or Alleluia.
    But what do we have to praise God for this year?  As we’re stuck in our homes, watching Mass on TV or on the Internet, as so many businesses are closed, and we probably can’t gather with the usual family members for the usual Easter dinner, why would we sing Alleluia?  Can we praise God in the midst of COVID-19?
    We can, and we should, because Easter still celebrates what it has always celebrated, which is worthy of the greatest Alleluia!  Perhaps in years past we have muddled the meaning of Easter because we do have family to visit, hams to cook, Easter bonnets to wear.  But Easter, like every Sunday, is about one thing: the Resurrection.  Jesus Christ has been raised from the dead, God be praised!  Jesus Christ has conquered sin and death, God be praised!  We, too, who have died with Jesus Christ in the waters of baptism can rise with Him to new life, God be praised!  This is truly the reason for the celebration.  All the other stuff is good, too, but it’s not even a pale comparison to the joy we should have from Jesus rising from the dead. 
    We should sing with the Psalmist today, “This is the day the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad.”  We heard even in the Sequence sung today that Christ has reconciled us to the Father.  “Death and life have contended in that combat stupendous: the Prince of life, who died, reigns immortal….Christ indeed from death is risen, our new life obtaining.”  In the midst of all that is going on, and that is not as it usually is, all that is not as it should be because of COVID-19, Jesus is still risen, we still have the great gift of new and enteral life offered to us.
    And Jesus’ Resurrection means that the world is, little by little, being remade.  It starts as a small seed, that died in the ground but then rose to new life in Jesus, but the tree has started to spread all over the world, granting its fruit of new life to those who partake of it.  Unlike in Eden where our first parents ate of the fruit and brought death to the world, our Lord, on a tree, conquered Satan, the ancient foe, and through that tree, new and eternal life is available for all. 
    It can be easy, like Peter and John, to see the empty tomb, but not believe in the Resurrection, because it is not fully before our eyes.  Because the world is being remade in the light of the risen Christ slowly, we miss the reason for joy.  We focus on the doubt and the darkness, and don’t see the hope and light.
    But Jesus is still victorious, and the light is still there.  Jesus conquered sin, He conquered death, and yes, Jesus has even conquered COVID-19.  We need only stay faithful to Jesus so that we can share in the full victory that was won when Jesus rose from the dead. 
    So today, and every Sunday, which the church calls a little Easter, rejoice in the Resurrection!  Sing with the psalmist, “This is the day the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad.”  Join with the words that Nehemiah spoke, foreshadowing the joy of the Resurrection, even in the Old Testament: “‘Today is holy to the Lord your God.  Do not lament, do not weep!  […] Do not be saddened this day, for rejoicing in the Lord is your strength!’”  Alleluia!  God be praised!!

The entrance to the place where Jesus rose from the dead in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre

If You're Happy and you Know It, Tell Your Face

Third Sunday of Easter

About two months ago, the priests of the Diocese of Lansing met to, among other things, talk about how to increase vocation to the priesthood.  There were lots of ideas shared, some big, some small, some more helpful, some less helpful.  But the advice of one of our senior priests really stood out: if you’re happy and you know it, tell your face.  That was his pithy way of saying that happy priests lead others to consider the priesthood.

But besides being good advice for priests trying to encourage vocations to the priesthood, it’s good advice for all Christians, especially during this Easter season.  If you’re happy and you know it, tell your face!  We have been given the gift of new life in Christ, the opportunity to live for ever in heaven with God, the Blessed Mother, and the angels and saints.  That’s good news!  Sin has been defeated, and Christ has given His Church a way to forgive sins in His name and with His authority (remember that Jesus gave the apostles that authority in last week’s Gospel account).  That should lead us to be joyful.  

Joy doesn’t mean that everything is going to go right in our lives.  St. Thomas Aquinas describes joy as a passion which is caused by love of being in the presence of that which is loved, or by the goodness of the thing loved that lasts.  And, of course, spiritual joy, the fruit of the Holy Spirit, is caused by being in the presence of God and by the goodness of God that endures forever.  Therefore, especially when dealing with the goodness of God itself and how much he loves us, joy and sorrow cannot be mixed up.  We should, as St. Paul writes in his letter to the Philippians, “Rejoice in the Lord always.”

But, St. Thomas also admits that we do not always participate in the goodness of God, or recognize God’s presence, and that can cause us sorrow, because we don’t see the love of God active in our neighbor, or even active in ourselves.  And we see that sadness in our Gospel today.  St. Peter forgets that Jesus has risen.  He has seen Jesus, but Jesus has gone elsewhere.  And because St. Peter forgets about the abiding presence of the risen Jesus, St. Peter abandons his responsibility of sustaining the disciples in the faith, and decides to go back to his old life of fishing.  

Now, when St. Peter recognizes Jesus on the shore, that joy returns, and so much so that he jumps out of the boat to swim to shore to see Jesus, rather than waiting for the boat to go ashore.  It is then that Jesus asks St. Peter about his love, the threefold profession of love making up for St. Peter’s threefold denial that he even knew Jesus.  And Jesus entrusts to St. Peter the role of feeding the lambs, tending the sheep, and feeding then sheep.  St. Peter is entrusted with taking care of the flock that belongs to the Good Shepherd.  And the joy of loving Christ is meant to keep St. Peter going.

A statue of Jesus at Peter at the
Sea of Galilee

St. Peter had that joy, maybe not always and not exactly as God wanted St. Peter to, but still, St. Peter had the joy of the Resurrection, and we heard about that in the first reading when St. Peter rejoiced “that they had been found worthy to suffer dishonor for the sake of the name” of Jesus.  Even though they were being persecuted, St. Peter (and the other apostles) had joy because they knew they were in the presence of God and that they were able to suffering for God in imitation of Jesus.

So how about us?  Do our faces show that we have the joy of the Resurrection?  As a priest in seminary once told us, this isn’t the smile of someone who just passed gas and then walked away.  This is the joy that gives us peace through all of life’s circumstances, good and bad.  If we recognize the presence of God in our life, then nothing can take that joy from us.  God’s love is always active in our life and sustains us every day.  Even when there is something sad or even horrendous going on in our life, if we know the love of God, then we can still have the joy that is the fruit of the Holy Spirit.  

The martyrs are the best example of this.  Throughout the centuries there are stories of martyrs who died very painful deaths, but had joy that they were laying down their life in imitation of Jesus.  From the Apostles, to the early Roman martyrs, to the Japanese martyrs in the sixteenth century, to the North American martyrs in the seventeenth century, to saints like Maximilian Kolbe in the twentieth century, they didn’t enjoy being put to death, but they did have joy to suffer for Christ.  And many of their writings testify to that.  So for us, who probably aren’t being covered with tar and lit on fire, having boiling water poured over us to mock baptism, having our fingernails pulled out and our fingers chopped off, being crucified, or being given poison, then hopefully we can recognize the abiding presence of God and live in that joy of Easter.  If you’re happy and you know it, tell your face!

Live the Resurrection!

Easter Sunday

As I composed this homily, the news reports were updating hour-by-hour about the fire at the Cathedral of Notre Dame in Paris.  I saw videos of the smoke, the flames, the collapse of the spire.  I saw news that the Blessed Sacrament and the crown of thorns, as well as artwork, had been saved, which was great news.  Notre Dame, the building, is itself a work of art of Gothic architecture.  It was begun in 1160, and most completed by 1260, though it was desecrated during the French Revolution, and then had to be restored beginning in 1845.

The collapse of this building reflects the collapse of the soul of France, once referred to as the Church’s eldest daughter.  According to a 2011 study, only 11% of Frenchmen attend church weekly.  I remember a British professor I had at college, who attended a Church of England boarding school during his childhood, and told us that he asked a classmate if he was going home for Easter.  His classmate asked why?  What was so special about Easter?  

Now, since you’re here today, I’m sure you know what’s so special about Easter.  This is the quintessential description of preaching to the choir.  You chose to get up this morning and come to Mass.  Some of you I see every weekend.  Some of you are visitors.  But you’re here to celebrate Easter, which doesn’t celebrate bunnies, or peeps, or even pretty flowers.  We celebrate Jesus risen from the dead, the Resurrection of Jesus, and the new life that He gained for all of us.

A tapestry of the Resurrection from the Vatican Museums

But I think that we, even as Catholics, even if I am preaching to the choir, have lost our identity, much like the people of France, though maybe not as badly.  Now, a 2014 study found that 47% of Christians go to Church weekly, but a 2018 Gallup poll put that number for Catholics at around 39% for the years 2014-2017.  That’s only 4 out of every 10 people.  

Easter, I think has become like the 4th of July.  It’s important, we celebrate it in some particular way, but it doesn’t change our lives.  It’s a day to think back, maybe even be grateful, but nothing beyond that.  Maybe we get together with family; maybe we cook out.  If we’re here at church, we might even get the family picture that at least one of the family members doesn’t really want (maybe all of them, except, of course, mom).  But then, tomorrow’s just another day, another 24-hour period in the monotony of life.

St. Peter didn’t see it that way.  In our first reading he talks about the power of the Resurrection of Jesus, and talks about the power of forgiveness of sins.  Jesus is the fulfillment of the hopes and dreams of the Chosen People, the Jews, to whom all the prophets bore witness.  And it changed Peter and changed the way he lived his life.  Certainly, he was still Peter, still sometimes a bit impetuous and talking before thinking, but converted, changed, for the better by a man that he knew had died, but whom he had also seen risen from the dead.  

It didn’t start that way.  St. Peter and St. John ran to the tomb that first Easter Sunday morning.  They had been told by St. Mary Magdalene that Jesus was no longer in the tomb, and so they both ran to the tomb.  They went in, saw the burial cloths, and the cloth that had covered his head in a different location.  But “they did not yet understand the Scripture that [Jesus] had to rise from the dead.”  And then, that evening, in the Upper Room, Jesus appeared to them, and to all gathered there, and said, “Peace be with you.”  And 50 days later, those same followers of Jesus would be filled with the Holy Spirit to proclaim that Jesus is Lord and Jesus is alive, with all that that message entailed.  And every day thereafter, Peter lived with hope that if he continued to follow Jesus’ teachings, that new life would await him, too, a life eternally happy with Jesus in heaven.

Did he do it perfectly?  St. Paul had to confront him about being inconsistent when it came to requiring others to follow the Law of Moses.  And even at the end, St. Peter at first ran away from being martyred.  But in the end, he was faithful to Christ, so much so, that he also was crucified, but upside down because he didn’t feel worthy to die like his Master.

Today changes everything.  Life after the Resurrection is different.  But sometimes I think we live like it doesn’t matter, like Jesus is dead.  If we have faith, if we truly follow Jesus, then we do all we can to treat others the way He did; to be faithful to the will of God the Father and to the truth like He did; to sacrifice for others like He did.  It’s not possible on our own.  We cannot do it without the grace of God.  And even if we try to be open to the grace of God, we may not do it perfectly, but it’s the all-encompassing goal of our life.  And we celebrate that Resurrection as often as we can, not simply because we like celebrating, but because it’s a reminder of who we’re called to be.  

Each Sunday we celebrate the Resurrection.  Each Sunday is called a “little Easter.”  It gives us grace to live like Jesus, and it reminds us that we should want to live like Jesus.  Each day I put on a small piece of cloth around my neck called a scapular.  It’s in honor of the Blessed Virgin Mary, and it reminds me that I belong to her and her Son, Jesus.  Some of you are married.  Suppose that you took off your wedding ring at the end of each day.  If you didn’t put it on each day, it would be harder to remember that there is a person to whom you are committed for life.  You belong to each other and to God.  Coming each Sunday is putting on that scapular; it’s putting on that wedding ring.  It reminds us to whom we belong.  Can you still belong to Jesus even if you don’t come to Mass each Sunday?  Sure!  But what belonging will mean for you will be far lesser than what Jesus intends it to mean.  

Don’t let the Resurrection be just another day.  Don’t let Easter be a once-a-year celebration.  Live the Resurrection each day of your life, as one who belongs to Jesus.  Live in the new life that Jesus won for you by His Blood when He died and rose from the dead.

Jesus is Alive!

Easter Vigil & Easter Sunday

The thought had crossed my mind, but apparently someone put up a billboard on 23 that says something like, “Jesus is dead.  April fools!”  I have to admit, it is a little weird that Easter falls on April Fools Day.  But as we assemble to celebrate our Lord’s Resurrection, we should ask ourselves if we truly believe that Jesus is alive.  And if we believe it, is that belief evident in our actions?

It’s very easy to treat Jesus like we treat any other deceased teacher or famous figure.  Someone recently told me that a lot of young people today see Jesus in the same light as Mahatma Ghandi, or Abraham Lincoln, or Socrates, that is, that they were good people, who taught and did good things, but now they’re gone, and relegated to history books and their writings.  Jesus is simply one of a long list of teachers and do-gooders who have graced the earth with their presence.  

But there is a major difference: Mahatma Ghandi, Abraham Lincoln, and Socrates, along with all the other teachers and good people, are all dead.  Jesus is alive, and we know it because His disciples, who, as our Gospel relates, were not looking for Him to be alive, saw the risen Jesus.  We can joke about “Who’s buried in Grant’s tomb?” (because Ulysses S. Grant is actually in a sarcophagus above ground), but the tomb of Jesus is empty.  I have seen it, and there’s no one there.

I think it can be easy at times to treat Jesus like a deceased relative that we loved dearly.  We like to remember that person; we probably have a nice picture of that person in our home.  Maybe we even talk to that person from time to time.  I know I have a picture of my deceased grandmother in my home, as well as the pictures of other friends who have died in my office.  And we do profess by faith in our funeral Masses that, for the faithful, life is changed, not ended.  But with Jesus it’s even more dramatic.  His Body and Soul and united and He is active in the world.  

And it’s not just that he’s alive in the people who believe in Him, in their hearts and in their minds.  He’s more alive than that.  People saw Him, touched Him, heard Him, and ate with Him.  And we can, too.  

I think about my friends who are alive, and the way I think of them, versus how I think of my deceased relatives.  There’s a difference.  I’m not sure I can quite explain it, but there is.  You probably know what I’m talking about.  But when we think of Jesus, in which category do we put Jesus: our alive friends, or our deceased relatives?

So what does it look like to actually believe and act as if Jesus is alive?  What are some of the ways that others can know that we believe Jesus is alive?  One way is by our actions.  St. Paul (in our second reading) encouraged us to put away the old yeast, “the yeast of malice and wickedness,” and to live with the new “bread of sincerity and truth.”  If Jesus is alive, then He encourages us and strengthens us by the power of the Holy Spirit to live in a new way, a way that patterns our life on the life of Jesus.  We reject hatred, we reject vengeance, we reject evil desires, and we live for honesty, for love, for forgiveness, and for virtue.  

I don’t know about you, but I also talk about my friends who are alive a lot more than I talk about my deceased relatives.  Yes, we talk about the deceased especially around holidays.  And there’s nothing wrong with that.  But we tend to tell stories about what we do with our friends, our communications with our friends, and how much we value our friendship especially when that friend is still alive.  I’m sure I bore people to death with some of my stories from ride alongs with my State Trooper friends.  There are things with other friends that seem funny to me that make no sense to people who don’t know my friends.  And I often will sing the praises of friends who help pick me up when I’m feeling down.  

Do we do the same with Jesus?  We might have to think about it, but we all have stories about times that we have spent with Jesus that are memorable.  Some of those stories may even sound crazy, but we know that it was Jesus and that He was there with us.  And how many times have we experienced the love of Jesus?  And yet, how often do we talk about that?  About ten chapters after our second reading, St. Paul also says to the people of Corinth, “if Christ has not been raised, your faith is in vain; you are still in your sins.  …If for this life only we have hoped in Christ, we are the most pitiable people of all.”  In other words, if Jesus is dead, if Jesus was just a good teacher who went the way of all the other good teachers, then redemption is not ours, and we are the most pathetic people.  

But Jesus is alive.  It’s not an April Fools joke.  Recommit yourselves this Easter to living like Jesus is alive: not only remembering Him on each Sunday as we come to Mass (that is important), but talking with Him, listening to Him, inviting Him to be a part of your life, talking about Him, and living a life like Jesus’ to the best of our ability.

Today

Easter Sunday

Today.  We use the word so often that it can sound like a small, insignificant part of conversation: how are you today? what are you doing today? what is the weather supposed to be like today?  But for the Church, the word “today” or the phrase “this day” has power with it, a power that helps us understand what is happening today.

Our opening prayer today, the Collect, said, “O God, who on this day, through your Only Begotten Son, have conquered death and unlocked for us the path to eternity….”  The preface, the prayer that anticipates the Eucharistic Prayer, begins, “It is truly right and just, our duty and our salvation, at all times to acclaim you, O Lord, but on this day above all to laud you yet more gloriously when Christ our Passover has been sacrificed.”  There is something about this day.  But what is it?

Of course, the easiest and most common answer is that today, this day, is Easter, when we celebrate the Lord’s Resurrection.  But this is more than the annual commemoration of a past event.  When the Church prays using the phrase “this day,” she means to remind us, as a loving Mother, that the redemption achieved by Christ in the Resurrection, is not removed from our present, but is, or should be, a part of our lives today.  Today, in our midst, eternity breaks into time, and the power of the Resurrection is given to us for new life.  This day, 27 March 2016, is the day that the Lord has made, the day that we rejoice and are glad in it.  This day Christ has risen from the dead, hell and Satan and death are defeated, and Christ appears in our midst to offer us His peace.  

We have forgotten about today, so often because we are plagued by what happened yesterday, or anxious about what will happen tomorrow.  We do not live in the present, but constantly oscillate between the past and the future.  But the Church invites us to live in today, because it is the day of the Resurrection, and Jesus Christ wants to offer us new life.

We need new life; all of us.  We need a today where Christ shows us that death is ended, sin is conquered, and hell is no longer our destiny.  We need this day to refresh us and inspire us to be the new creation we are called to be as Christians.  We need to be resurrected.  It is too easy to live as zombies, the walking dead, who go day-to-day without thinking about the death of sin that is so prevalent in our own lives.  We need the new life that Jesus gives us, a life free from the shackles of those sins.  Our old selves, which look upon others, or even ourselves, with distrust, disdain, and despair, need to die, so that our new selves, alive in Christ, look upon others and ourselves with love, respect, and hope.  You need new life; I need new life; Adrian needs new life; the United States need new life; our whole world needs new life.

That new life is accessible, because the resurrection is today; it is this day.  The resurrection was not only accessible almost 2,000 years ago in Jerusalem; it is accessible today.  And you can take hold of it and make it your own.  And, as Christians, those who follow Jesus who is not dead, but alive, we recall each eighth day of the week, each Sunday, to grab ahold of the resurrection and bask in the glow of new life, a new life which transforms us into the people God has called us to be.  From the very beginning of the Church, those who followed Jesus gathered on the eighth day, the Lord’s Day, the dies Dominica, because they realized that the Resurrection made everything different, and was a chance to recall and receive the new life Jesus had given them.  It wasn’t Saturday (that was the Jewish Sabbath); it wasn’t Wednesday.  The day for Christians was Sunday, and it was a day that they put on the back burner all other commitments, even sports, and all assembled to worship God, to give Him their death (their sins) so that they might receive back their resurrection.  

If we truly want to be great again, then it starts with going to Mass every Sunday, except in cases of ill health, extreme distance from a church, or dangerous weather conditions, and being renewed in mind, body, and spirit by the power of Jesus’ Resurrection.  Only by taking hold of the gift of new life that Jesus offers us and putting aside the old self, the old leaven, will this world be transformed into the place that God has created it to be.  This is the day that the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.  Today Christ Jesus has risen from the dead; may His Resurrection transform us into the saints we are called to be by our baptism.

The Pilgrimage of Holy Week

Palm Sunday of the Lord’s Passion

Cathedral of
Santiago de Compostela

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

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

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

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

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

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