A Relationship with the Truth

Third Sunday of Lent-First Scrutiny

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

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

Mercy in the Present Moment

Second Sunday of Easter/Low Sunday
    [In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen].  Today we celebrate Divine Mercy Sunday.  The paradox of mercy is that we all want it regularly accessible, but we can often struggle to actually dispense it.  When someone has wronged us, we can so easily focus on justice and how the other person should make restitution for what he or she has done.  But when we have done something wrong, how quickly do we run to God and ask for His Divine Mercy, hoping that we can obtain it without too much effort.
    Our Lord reminds us of our obligations to share with others the mercy that we receive in the parable of the unforgiving steward.  If you remember, the steward owes the master a large amount of money, and cannot pay back the debt.  When about to go to debtor’s prison, the steward pleads with the master to give him more time, and the master forgives the debt.  But when the steward sees fellow workers who owe him a much smaller amount, the steward throws them into debtor’s prison, despite them using the same plea that the steward had used earlier with the master. 
    That call to mercy reflects what God has already done for us.  His mercy, which was won at the price of the Blood of the Son of God, granted us freedom from the bonds of sin.  It released us from the hold of Satan so that we could freely continue as sons and daughters in the Son of God.  If we are adopted sons and daughters, then our vocation is to live like our heavenly Father, whose mercy endures forever, as Psalm 118 (117) states. 
    Part of living a merciful life means showing mercy to ourselves.  St. Faustina, the great apostle of Divine Mercy, once said, “The past does not belong to me; the future is not mine; with all my soul I try to make use of the present moment.”  How easy it can be to dwell on our past mistakes, or hope that we can make up for sins in the future.  Instead, God invites us live in the present moment, because that is all we have. 
    As far as the past goes, we can all say, to one degree or another, that there are things we wish we would have done differently in the past.  For some of us, that means major deviations from the type of life Christ wants us to live.  For others, that means smaller veers away from the path of holiness.  But we all have things that, in hindsight, we should not have done.  On this Divine Mercy Sunday, God invites us to commend our past to Him, and no longer be shackled by past mistakes, no matter how big or how small.  Sometimes this is done by making a general confession or life confession, where, in an appointment for confession with a priest (not at the usual weekday times), one gives all the past sins that he or she can remember to the Lord to be washed clean in His Blood.  But, aside from those rare times, we should not bring up past, confessed sins.  Because ruminating on those past sins and treating them like they still exist is lacking confidence in the power of God’s mercy.  Satan will often try to get us to act as if past confessed sins are not forgiven, but we should reject that temptation as a lie from the father of lies.  Yes, each act has a consequence, and sometimes those consequences reach into our present.  But, if we have confessed our sins, we can trust in the mercy of God and know that the sins are no more.
    As for the future, it can be easy to act like everything depends on us; that we have to do everything to save ourselves, and so we fret about what might happen.  Just as God wants us to entrust our past to Him, He also wants us to entrust our future to Him, a future that is purified by the mercy of God.  We don’t know what the future will hold.  We know that our present choices affect our future, but God can mercifully guide our future in spite of our present choices.  It is a mercy not to worry about what might happen, because we can spend so much energy and time on fretting about what could be, but what might never be. 
    As a planner and a type A personality, this is probably the hardest way for me to accept God’s mercy.  It is so easy for me to get worked up and lose sleep over how something will turn out, or if someone meant something by a particular choice of phrasing.  If, instead, I am doing my best to seek the will of God and do it, then no matter what I know God will help me through whatever consequences may come from any of my actions, good or ill.  There is a real freedom in not trying to be God and be in all the possibilities of the future.  It is part of God’s mercy that we don’t worry about what tomorrow holds.  Today, as our Lord says, has enough concern for itself.

    Mercy means living in the present, because it is all that we have, and it is the only opportunity that we have to reach out for God’s mercy, and share God’s mercy ourselves.  God’s redemption, His act of mercy, stretches into all time: past, present, and future.  But we can only accept and share that mercy in the present, because that is the only time in which we operate.  The Apostles in the Upper Room could have worried about how they had abandoned the Lord at His Passion.  Peter could have worried about how he had denied even know the Lord only a few days before.  The disciples could have wondered what this Risen Lord would do with them in the coming days, weeks, months, and years.  Thomas could have fretted not being in the Upper Room when Christ first appeared.  Instead, Christ invited them to be in the present moment, to receive His peace, a true gift of the Holy Spirit.  Instead, Christ gave His Apostles the power to extend that mercy in a formal and sacramental way so that the work of mercy, culminated in the Cross, could be accessed by generations of followers of Christ.  Christ did not encourage them to worry about the past.  He did not encourage them to plan for the future.  He only invited them to receive His peace in the present moment.
    [Mia, God’s mercy has brought you here to us as a catechumen.  Though not fully, you already belong to us by your desire for baptism.  As you continue to come to know the Lord in the coming weeks, you will see how God has worked in your past to bring you to this day, but you will also remember ways that you lived according to your ignorance of Christ and His Church.  Give that to God and His mercy, which will be poured over you in the waters of baptism.  You may worry about living as a Catholic after you are baptized, and if you will have the strength to continue in the path to which God called you.  Entrust that future to God’s mercy, and know that He will give you the strength to follow Him.]
    God wants to show us His mercy.  He wants us to share His mercy with others, but also to be receptive to His mercy ourselves.  He does not invite us to dwell on the past, nor to fret about the future.  Instead, in His mercy, He invites us to live in the present, and to be vessels and vehicles of the mercy of God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  Amen.