Homily: Pentecost Vigil

Readings: Joel 3:1-5; Ps 104; Rom 8:22-27; John 7:37-39

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Back at the turn of the millennium I happened to catch a TV news show in which the host asked an historian to name the most important people in human history. I can't recall the historian’s name, but he made a point of calling himself an agnostic. And then he said something rather remarkable.

"As an historian," he said, "I’d have to say that the most influential person in human history was Jesus Christ. The problem is, I can't understand how he came to be so influential. He was really a nobody, tucked away in a little corner of the world. He didn't write anything. He didn't go anywhere or do anything very important. He was executed for treason. And his followers? Just a handful of simple peasants. He should have been forgotten in a matter of days or weeks. It's truly inexplicable. But that's history."

Yes, Mr. Historian, that is history. And this history, viewed from the perspective of the Church's teachings, becomes very explainable.

In truth the 3 most influential events in human history centered on the person of Jesus Christ, and all 3 took place within eight weeks of each other. Something else they have in common: they were actions, taken not by men, but by God Himself.

These events are true history — perhaps we should say, His Story — the story of the Creator of all things doing the most remarkable things — in a truly remarkable way. It’s the story of a loving Father sending His Son to suffer and die at the hands of those He created, as a perfect offering for their sins. For so many today Jesus Christ is inexplicable, until we plumb the depths of God's Love for us.

Because His Story doesn't end with the first event on the Cross at Calvary. If it had, our historian's instincts would have been correct, and Jesus would have been a mere footnote…if that. But the Father wasn’t content to let it end there. He wanted us to know, to accept the truth. And so, three days later, the second event occurred. Jesus rose from the dead, to prove His Divinity, and to give us a foretaste of what awaits those who love Him and keep His commandments.

But even the Resurrection, this momentous event, is insufficient. For the Father wants His Truth, and the knowledge of His infinite Love, to spread to the ends of the earth. He'd sacrificed His Son, not for a handful of followers, not for the Jewish people, His Chosen Ones, who for centuries prepared the way for Jesus, the Christ. No, this act of redemption was for all of humanity, for every person is a child of God.

Today we celebrate this third event, a relatively brief event in the history of salvation, but an event of such impact, it permanently and profoundly altered the very history of the world. For what took place in Jerusalem on that Sunday morning almost 2,000 years ago is God's lasting gift to His children.

He had sent His Son to suffer and die as a redemptive sacrifice, to free us from the slavery of sin and death and to give us the hope of eternal life. And now God fulfills the Word He gave us through His Prophet Joel, and so many others:

“It shall come to pass. I will pour out my spirit upon all flesh. Your sons and daughters will prophesy, your old men will dream dreams, your young men will see visions… I will pour out my spirit.”

Yes, it came to pass, and those days arrived. He sent His Holy Spirit, the Lord and Giver of life, the personification of the Divine Love between Father and Son. And what power the Spirit has!

Suddenly, 120 men and women, this fearful little band of followers, are instantly transformed. The disciples had seen what happened to Jesus, and feared it might well happen to them. As they gathered in that upper room, in secrecy and prayer with our Blessed Mother, the mighty breath of God and the fire of the Spirit’s presence engulfed them and changed them forever.

The Holy Spirit manifested in them the new, eternal covenant Jesus instituted at the Last Supper, forming them into the Church to bring God's message of salvation to the world. The Jewish feast of Pentecost took on entirely new meaning. What had Jesus just commanded them?

"Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you; and lo, I am with you always until the close of the age."

Now, for the first time, they began to understand what this mission entailed. And just as suddenly, all of Jesus' teachings, His promises, the words of the Word of God that had seemed so cryptic, became perfectly clear. Inspired by the Spirit with this new understanding, overflowing with enthusiasm for the mission He’d given them, they poured into the crowded streets of Jerusalem to share the Good News.

But the Holy Spirit had only just begun, and from those 120 disciples, He calls one to lead the way. It’s Peter, the fisherman – full of bluster and human weakness, who’d betrayed his Lord in those final hours…It’s Peter. Peter, the Rock upon whom Jesus promised to build His Church, speaks to the crowd and on that first Pentecost Sunday, the Church is born.

Miracle follows miracle and three thousand are baptized, for the work of the Spirit can’t be stopped. The one, holy, catholic, and apostolic Church, brought into being that day, is still with us today, still guided by the Holy Spirit, still led by Christ's Vicar, still committed to the Apostolic mission of bringing the Good News of Jesus Christ to the world. And the mission is universal, given to each of us, for we are the Church.

Why this mission? Just look around you. How can you miss it? …the sadness and hopelessness and sinfulness that plague so many today. These are God's children! They don’t need our condemnation or pity; they need God’s love and evangelization. The Father wants to bring them to Himself, and He calls us to take part in His work.

Does this call, this mission, frighten you? Are you terrified of the idea of evangelizing others? You shouldn’t be, because just like Peter and the disciples on that first Pentecost, you won’t be alone. You see, we can’t do God’s work without the Spirit. As St. Paul reminded us “…the Spirit too comes to the aid of our weakness.” And later Paul told the Corinthians:

"There are different kinds of spiritual gifts, but the same Spirit…different forms of service, but the same Lord...To each individual the manifestation of the Spirit is given for some benefit."

Do you see what He’s telling us? We have the same mission, even though we carry it out in different ways, and it’s the Holy Spirit who inspires and guides each of us. Today we’re reminded to be roused from the comfort and safety of our own upper rooms. We too need to be amazed — that our faith should be accompanied by the sounds, the heat, the cacophony of different voices, the presence of the Holy Spirit, proclaiming the mighty acts of God.

Sisters and brothers, we all have a mission to a world that waits beyond our parish walls…

…a world often confused, divided, afraid.

…a world waiting to be astounded by power of the Spirit and His message of hope.

God doesn’t encourage us; He commands us, for it’s the essential work of our Christian faith.

Of course, it’s comforting to stay within our families or parish community, but God doesn't want us to get too comfortable. For on that first Pentecost God turned the disciples’ little circle inside out. Suddenly they faced not each other, but a world waiting to hear the Good News. As we follow them, we can rely on God’s promise: the Holy Spirit is with us, guiding us, his wisdom flowing through us…We need only invite Him.

How did Jesus put it in today’s Gospel?

“Rivers of living water will flow from within him who believes in me.”

Let’s welcome the Spirit into our lives…and those rivers will flow through us as He renews the face of the earth.

And today, here on the vigil of Pentecost, what a perfect time to pray to the Spirit, the Giver of Life, asking Him to convert and forgive all those who have taken so many innocent lives, lives He has given to the world.

Do it today, and witness the wonders, the mighty acts of God, He will bring about in your lives, in my life, and in the lives of all we encounter.

Homily: Tuesday within the Octave of Easter

Readings: Acts 2:36-41; Ps 33; Jn 20:11-18

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Our Gospel passage from John is among my favorites, but today it has risen to a new level of importance for me. Let's just revisit it.

Overwhelmed by grief, Mary Magdalene made her way to the tomb. And we understand it, for she had lost her Jesus, He who had saved her. In a very real sense, Jesus, who had expelled her demons, had brought her back to life, raising her to new life. But now He was dead.

She couldn’t deny it. She had seen Him breathe His last. She’d followed as they carried His lifeless body to the tomb. Yes, indeed, her Jesus was dead. She had come there that morning to anoint His body, something she couldn’t do on the Passover Sabbath. But now in the early morning of the third day, she found the tomb empty. Adding to her grief, then, was confusion. Who could have taken Him? It was all too much for her, and she wept, seeing but not yet understanding.

Don’t you just love Mary Magdalene? It’s hard not to. She’s just so very human. She proves that as God leads us to holiness, He doesn’t let holiness overwhelm our humanity. How easy it is for Mary, and for you and me, to miss the Lord when our focus is elsewhere. Yes, Mary is looking for a dead Jesus, not a risen, living Jesus. We witness this even in her dialog with the angels. Did she recognize the angels in the tomb as angels? I don’t think so. She knew only that neither one was Jesus. 

Sitting there in the tomb of the risen Jesus, probably with smiles on their faces, they asked her, “Woman, why are you weeping?” What a question! Who are these men? “Someone’s taken my Lord. Where have they put Him?” So, she turned around, and there was Jesus, right in front of her. But she thought He was the gardener. 

I’ve always liked that. After all, God’s relationship with humanity began in a garden, a garden He created for our first parents. Yes, our God has always been a kind of gardener, providing us with everything we need for eternal life. Mary, then, wasn’t far off, was she? For what is a gardener, but one devoted to bringing forth new life from the ground.

And yet, to mistake the risen Jesus for a gardener? He must have looked so very ordinary in His humanity, and yet so very different that she could not recognize Him. Jesus, the Gardener, repeated the angels' question, didn’t He? “Woman, why are you weeping?” and followed it with another “Whom are you looking for?” Still clueless, Mary almost accused the would-be gardener of taking Jesus.

But it took only one word from our Lord. He called her by name, and at once she recognized him. I suspect that with this very personal revelation of the Resurrection, Mary instantly understood it all, as if the pieces of a puzzle suddenly flew together, forming a perfect. clear picture. She now grasped it all -- everything He had done, every look, every Word, every gesture -- and she knew the truth: Jesus lives! And like Peter, she now knew that He is "the Christ, the Son of the Living God" [Mt 16:16]. And it is to Peter and the brothers that she would take this wondrous news. She had seen the Lord!

And that’s all well and good, but how about us? We, too, believe it, but do we really live it?

I was writing this homily on Good Friday morning because I knew I‘d have a busy weekend, with little time for homily writing. But I put it aside, half-written, to get ready for the 3 pm service. Later, as I drove to church, I went through the Lynnhaven gate and turned onto Rainey Trail. That's when I saw him.

He was young, in his 20s. He had a scraggly beard and wore perhaps the shabbiest clothes I’d ever seen in The Villages. Filthy sweatpants with big holes in them, a well-stained, torn sweatshirt, sneakers falling apart. He was a mess. And he had just fallen down on the other side of Rainey Trail - half in the street and half on the grass. 

I stopped the car, lowered the window, and asked if he were OK. He just said, “No. I hurt. Can you take me to the store up on 301?” 

So, I called him over. He got to his feet, limped across the road, and climbed into the passenger seat. He smelled about the way he looked, but it wasn’t that bad. I’ve smelled worse.

I asked him his name and he responded with all three: first, middle, and last.

I asked if wanted me to call 911 or drive him to the fire station. “They can help you there.”

"No," he said, "just take me to the store."

"Are you sure?" 

"Yes, that's all I want."

So, I drove off to the convenience store-gas station, only a mile away.

"Are you from the area," I asked.

"Yes."

"Do you have family here?"

Again, "Yes."

Not sure what to say, I just told him, "Today's Good Friday, you know." He said nothing. And so, I added, “It’s a special day. Reminds us of how much God loves us.” 

He just said, “That’s good.”

I asked if he needed a few bucks. No response. Then I realized I had no cash on me, only a debit card. So, I told him. He didn’t seem to mind.

By now we were at the convenience store. As I pulled into a parking place, I just said, “Call your family."  

"OK.” With that he got out of the car, said, “Thanks,” and limped into the store.

Minutes later, as I pulled into the church's parking lot, Mary and the Gardener forced their way into my thoughts. I don't believe in coincidence, never have. God works in our lives in the simplest and the most marvelous ways. And so, I was led to wonder: 

With whom did I just spend those few minutes? 

That's when I recalled Jesus’ words: 

“Whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me.” [Mt 25:20]

And it hit me...hard. I hadn't done very much, had I?

Brothers and sisters, it's not enough just to know about Jesus,

We have to know Him, know Him personally.

We have to meet Him, to meet Him and see Him in everyone we encounter.

And then we have to love Him.

Resurrection: A Poem by Jennifer

Our parish is blessed to have many people who want to deepen their lives of faith through the study of God’s Word revealed in Sacred Scripture. We now have over 130 parishioners participating in our parish’s Bible Study. To accommodate so many people we offer three weekly sessions. As the usual facilitator, I occasionally cannot attend a particular session and must call on one of our parishioners to fill in for me. Most often I turn to Jennifer Smart, who kindly and ably takes the reins and actually does a far better job than yours truly. A lifelong student of the Bible and ancient history, Jennifer has also spent a considerable amount of time in both Egypt and Israel and brings to our sessions valuable first-hand knowledge of the Middle East and its people.

Jennifer is also a poet who some years ago wrote the following poem, Resurrection, which she recently shared with our Bible Study participants. It seems fitting to include it here as we begin Holy Week. I trust you will enjoy reading and meditating on these verses:

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                    Resurrection 

 “He is not here, but know that He is risen,”

The gathered mourners heard the angel say;

We marvel how this deathless gift was given

To those who witnessed that first Easter Day.

The rock that sealed Christ’s chamber seemed a portal

To darkness shrouding hopelessness and strife;

Instead it was a door to God Immortal

And passageway to everlasting life.

We join in Easter fellowship with others

To share the angel’s words the world has known;

Whenever we reach out to one another,

We link our hands and roll away the stone. 

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Thank you, Jennifer; and a blessed and fruitful Holy Week to all.

Emptiness

Today, Holy Saturday, is the Church's day of emptiness. In Sacred Scripture, the events of the first Holy Saturday are described by Matthew:

The next day, the one following the day of preparation, the chief priests and the Pharisees gathered before Pilate and said, "Sir, we remember that this imposter while still alive said, 'After three days I will be raised up.' Give orders, then, that the grave be secured until the third day, lest his disciples come and steal him and say to the people, 'He has been raised from the dead.' This last imposture would be worse than the first." Pilate said to them, "The guard is yours; go secure it as best you can." So they went and secured the tomb by fixing a seal to the stone and setting the guard [Mt 27:62-66].

Of course, by the next morning, on the third day, the tomb was empty. Jesus Christ had risen, just as He had told all who would hear. It's that emptiness we experience today, an emptiness encountered in our churches as well.

When I was a boy, my mom would usually stop by our parish church during the day on Holy Saturday. Sometimes she'd take me along. I suppose she wanted me to experience how different the Church was compared to other days. We'd enter the church and kneel in one of the back pews and pray for a few moments. Then we'd leave.

St. Augustine Church in Larchmont, NY was a beautiful neo-Gothic church. I've included below two photos taken a few years ago when Diane and I attended a reunion -- really just a luncheon -- with a few members of my 1958 eighth-grade class from St. Augustine School. I suppose I wanted Diane to see my childhood church where I served as an altar boy, along with the adjacent school which I attended for four years. Sadly, the parochial school is no longer open, but the church still thrives. The photos, particularly the interior photo, give you an idea of the kind of emptiness we experienced on Holy Saturday.

If you visit a Catholic Church today the emptiness is apparent. The holy water fonts are empty, awaiting the evening blessing of baptismal water. In many churches statues are also covered only to be uncovered before or during the Easter Vigil. More telling, though, the sanctuary lamp is extinguished because the tabernacle is open and empty in anticipation of the Easter Vigil Mass. Without the Eucharistic Presence of our Lord, the emptiness becomes very real indeed.

Today, unfortunately, in light of the COVID pandemic many Catholic Churches are unlocked only for the celebration of Mass (with very limited attendance) or on a few other special occasions; otherwise the doors are locked up tight. I find that odd and disturbing, especially during a pandemic when people experience a greater need to visit their parish church, to take time to pray in a sacred place. It's not as if hordes of parishioners will suddenly descend on the church and willingly violate the "social distancing" protocols. Even more disturbing, as a Eucharistic Church, we have denied the Eucharist to thousands of Catholics who, because of age, illness, or injury, are unable to attend Mass or suffer from conditions that might result in serious health issues if they contract the virus. Hospitals and healthcare facilities have developed the means to safely treat those in their care. It would seem the Church could apply some of these same protocols to address the spiritual health of its people. All that's needed is a little creativity. But I suppose it's much easier just to listen to the politicians and attorneys and shut things down.

Some months ago, a parishioner, an elderly, home-bound woman, phoned me just to chat. During our conversation she challenged me with, "My Methodist neighbor visits and prays with me several times each week. I get the feeling my own Church simply doesn't care about me at all. They used to bring me the Eucharist. Now, nothing. When I call them, I'm told to go online, something I can't do." She, too, is experiencing a kind of emptiness, but not just on Holy Saturday. How many others sit at home, forced into spiritual loneliness, while struggling to keep the faith?

I don't know the answer. I'm not that smart. But I'm sure there are those in our Church, creative and faithful people, who can come up with better ways to care for God's people than by locking the doors. Otherwise, we run the risk of coming across like the chief priests and Pharisees described by Matthew. Are we trying to hide our Lord by securing the churches, fixing a seal, and setting the guard?

Bible Study Reflection #25: Welcome the Holy Spirit

I've been a bit slow posting these COVID-driven Bible Study Reflections, so I'll post the two most recent today. I hope they strike a needed chord with at least a few of my regular readers. Stay healthy, folks; but even more important, stay faithful and trust in our loving, merciful God.

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Many years ago, I read an article in which the writer ranked historical events and people, identifying those he believed were most influential. Einstein or Edison? Henry Ford or Henry Aaron? Hitler, Stalin, Roosevelt, or Churchill? Moses, Buddha, Jesus, or Mohammed? Or which events were more important? World War II or the Napoleonic Wars? The invention of the digital computer or the invention of indoor plumbing?

An interesting article, although the writer’s biases were fairly evident. But I suppose, like most of us, he too carries his biases to work. Ironically, perhaps the most biased among us are the secular pundits who claim to have rid themselves of religious bias and therefore belittle the importance of religion in the lives of others. Because they lack religious faith, they dismiss it as an important motivation. The irony is even greater because religious faith, when viewed objectively, has had more impact on human history — for both good and bad — than any other factor.

I recall watching a news show back at the turn of the millennium. The host asked a historian to name the most important people in human history. I don’t remember the historian’s name, but he made a point of calling himself an agnostic. And then he said something surprising, which I've paraphrased here:

As an historian, I’d have to say the most influential person in human history is Jesus Christ. The problem is, I can't understand how he came to be so influential. He was really a nobody, tucked away in a little corner of the world. He didn't write anything. He didn't go anywhere or do anything very important. He was executed for treason. And his followers? Just a handful of simple peasants. He should have been forgotten in a matter of days or weeks. It's truly inexplicable. But that's history.

Yes, Mr. Historian, that is history. And this history, viewed from the perspective of the Church's teachings, becomes very explainable. You see, the three most influential events in the history of humanity all centered on the person of Jesus Christ, and these events all took place within eight weeks of each other. Another thing they have in common: they were actions, taken not by men, but by God Himself. These events are true history — perhaps we should say, His Story — the story of the Creator of all doing the most remarkable things in an almost unbelievable, inexplicable way.

The Incarnation is the story of a loving Father sending His Son to suffer and die at the hands of those He created as a perfect offering for their sins. Our historian was at least partially right: Jesus Christ is inexplicable, until we plumb the depths of God's Love for us. His Story doesn't end on the cross at Calvary, which is the first of those three events. If it had, our historian's instincts would have been correct, and Jesus would have been, at most, a mere footnote.

But the Father wasn’t content to let it end there. He wanted us to know and to accept the truth. And so, three days later, the second event occurred. Jesus rose from the dead to prove His Divinity and to give a foretaste of what awaits those who love Him and keep His commandments.

But even the Resurrection, this momentous event, was insufficient. For the Father wants His Truth, and the knowledge of His infinite Love, to spread to the ends of the earth. His Son’s sacrificial death wasn’t just for a handful of followers, and not just for the Jewish people, His Chosen Ones, who for centuries preserved His Law. No, this act of redemption was for all of humanity, for every person is a child of God.

We, therefore, celebrate this third event, a relatively brief event in the history of salvation, but an event of such impact that it altered the very history of the world, permanently and profoundly. For what took place in Jerusalem on a Sunday morning almost 2,000 years ago is God's lasting gift to His children.

In his Gospel, St. John offers a glimpse of the effects of this special day:

On the last and greatest day of the feast, Jesus stood up and exclaimed, “Let anyone who thirsts come to me and drink. As Scripture says: Rivers of living water will flow from within him who believes in me.” He said this in reference to the Spirit that those who came to believe in him were to receive. There was, of course, no Spirit yet, because Jesus had not yet been glorified [Jn 7:37-39].

The Father had sent His Son to suffer and die as a redemptive sacrifice, to free us from the slavery of sin and death and to give us the hope of eternal life. Now He sends His Holy Spirit, the giver of life, the personification of the Divine Love between Father and Son. And what power the Spirit has! Suddenly, 120 men and women, this fearful little band of followers, are transformed.

If someone’s never been afraid – really afraid, afraid he might suffer a violent death at any moment -- the fear that those who’ve survived combat know all too well -- then he probably doesn’t know how the disciples felt that day. They’d witnessed what had happened to Jesus, and they feared it might well happen to them. But as they gathered in prayer around our Blessed Mother in the upper room, the mighty breath of God and the fire of the Spirit’s presence engulfed them, changing them forever.

The Holy Spirit manifested within them the new, eternal covenant with God, the covenant Jesus instituted at the Last Supper. In doing so the Spirit formed them into the Church through which they would bring God's message of salvation to the world. How had Jesus put it just ten days earlier?

"Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you; and lo, I am with you always until the close of the age" [Mt 28:19-20].

Now, for the first time, they began to understand what this mission entailed. And just as suddenly, all of Jesus' teachings, all of His promises, the words of the Word of God that had seemed so cryptic, became perfectly clear. Inspired by the Spirit with this new understanding and overflowing with enthusiasm for the mission He’d given them, they poured into the crowded streets of Jerusalem to share the Good News.

But the Holy Spirit had only just begun, and from those 120 disciples, He called one in particular to lead the way, one already chosen by Jesus. For in the second chapter of Acts, it’s Peter, the fisherman – full of bluster and human weakness, the man who’d betrayed his Lord in those final hours -- who now leads the way. Peter, then, the Rock upon whom Jesus promised to build His Church, is confirmed by the Spirit as the first Vicar of Christ on earth.

And I tell you, you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of the netherworld shall not prevail against it [Mt 16:18].

On that first Pentecost Sunday, the Church is born.

What happened that first day? Turn to the Acts of the Apostles and once again read chapters two through five and relive the wondrous events of those first exhilarating days of the Church founded by Jesus Christ. Listen again to the words of a now-inspired Peter who called all who heard him to repentance, Baptism, and salvation through faith in Jesus Christ. Miracle followed miracle, and as St. Luke tells us:

Those who accepted his message were baptized, and about three thousand persons were added that day...And every day the Lord added to their number those who were being saved [Acts 2,41,47].

Yes, indeed, the work of the Spirit can’t be stopped. Peter, the street-preacher, tells his impromptu audience of Jews, a gathering from every corner of the Roman Empire and beyond, that Jesus is the fulfillment of the Law and the Prophets. He recalls the words of the prophets Isaiah and Joel [See Is:2:2,44:3 and Jl 3:1-5]:

It will come to pass in the last days that I will pour out a portion of my spirit upon all flesh. Your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, your young men shall see visions, your old men shall dream dreams [Acts 2:17].

Peter was preaching to a congregation of Jews, pilgrims who had come to Jerusalem from a dozen different lands to celebrate the Jewish feast of Pentecost. And as Pope Benedict XVI, in his wonderful, little book, Called to Communion, explains, on that first day, the truly Catholic Church was born:

“What first exists in one Church, the Church that speaks in all tongues – the ecclesia universalis [the catholic church]; she then generates Church in the most diverse locales, which nevertheless are all embodiments of the one and only Church” [Called to Communion, p 44].

We must never forget, as so many have, that the One, Holy, Catholic, and Apostolic Church, brought into being that day so long ago, remains with us today, still guided by the Holy Spirit, still led by Christ's Vicar, still committed to the Apostolic mission of bringing the Good News of Jesus Christ to the world. Just ten days earlier, Jesus had given His “Great Commission” to his nascent Church:

All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you; and lo, I am with you always, to the close of the age [Mt 28:19-20].

But this mission isn’t something reserved solely to the successors of the Apostles, to the Holy Father and the bishops. No, this mission, this command of Jesus, is universal and intended for each one of us. This is our challenge as Catholic Christians. Jesus didn’t place limitations on His commissioning of the Church. We are all called to carry out the Church’s primary mission, that of evangelization.

Why this mission? Just look around you. It’s in all our lives: the sadness and hopelessness and sinfulness that plague so many today. These are God's children. They don’t need our condemnation or pity; they need evangelization, for the Father wants to bring them to Himself, and He calls each of us to take part in His work.

Does this call, this mission, frighten you? Do you resist because, deep down you are terrified of the idea of evangelizing others? You shouldn’t be. Just like Peter and the disciples on that first Pentecost, you won’t be alone. You see, we can’t do God’s work without the Spirit. St. Paul put it beautifully

In the same way, the Spirit too comes to the aid of our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but the Spirit itself intercedes with inexpressible groanings [Rom 8:26].

And as Paul reminded the Corinthians sometime later

There are different kinds of spiritual gifts but the same Spirit; there are different forms of service but the same Lord; there are different workings but the same God who produces all of them in everyone. To each individual the manifestation of the Spirit is given for some benefit [1 Cor 12:4-7].

Do you see what Paul is telling us? We have the same mission, even though we carry it out in different ways. And it’s the Holy Spirit who inspires and guides each of us.

This first Pentecost reminds us that we need to be roused from the comfort and safety and solitude of our own upper rooms. It reminds us that we need to be amazed — that our faith should be accompanied by the sound of wind, the heat of flames, the cacophony of different voices, and the presence of the Holy Spirit, proclaiming the mighty acts of God.

Peter and the Holy Spirit remind us that we all have a mission in and to the world, a world that waits just beyond our parish walls:

a world plagued by sinfulness;

a world often confused, divided, and afraid;

a world calling us to look outward as well as inward;

a world waiting to be astounded by the mighty acts of God and by a message of hope, the Good News of Jesus Christ, a message He proclaims through us, just as He did through the Apostles.

Brothers and sisters, this mission isn’t an option, something we’re simply encouraged to do. It’s a command from God Himself, an essential element of our lives as Catholic Christians.

Now, there’s nothing wrong with finding comfort in the midst of our family or parish community. Just don’t get too comfortable, for on Pentecost God took the disciples by the hand and turned their little circle inside out. Suddenly they faced not each other, but a world waiting to hear the Good News.

Yes, this can be a frightening thing. But remember, when we carry God’s love and truth to others, we will never be alone. For that’s God’s promise: the Holy Spirit will be with us, guiding us, his wisdom flowing through us. We need only invite Him into our lives.

How did Jesus put it in today’s Gospel?

“Rivers of living water will flow from within him who believes in me” [Jn 7:38 – See also Is:12:3; Ez 47:1].

Welcome the Spirit into your life, and through you He will renew the face of the earth. Do it today and see the wonders He will bring about.

Homily: All Souls Day

Today, on All Souls Day, Diane and I celebrate our 52nd wedding anniversary. All Souls Day is really a rather odd day for a wedding; indeed, back then it required the bishop’s dispensation. And I’d certainly not dare to forge any kind of connection between marriage and purgatory. Perhaps I’d better change the subject… 

All Souls Day is a really a day when we’re led to contemplate death. Sadly, so many today believe that death is the end; that nothing follows. And so they avoid even thinking about it because to do so would drive them to the depths of despair. How sad for them. And how blessed we are, full of faith in Our Lord Jesus Christ, Our Savior, and full of hope in His promise of eternal life. 

How did St. Paul put it in our second reading? “…we too might live in newness of life.” “Newness of life” are particularly pleasing words for those of us now experiencing the oldness and oddness of this life. It’s all, Paul tells us, because of the promise of Our Lord’s Resurrection: 

“For if we have grown into union with him through a death like his, we shall also be united with him in the resurrection.” 

Yes, God puts in the heart of every living person a desire for eternal life and happiness with Him. While death claims each of us at our appointed time, God gives us something which death cannot touch -- his own divine life and sustaining power. We need only accept Him in faith, and live that faith. Jesus, of course, said it best:

“For this is the will of my Father, that everyone who sees the Son and believes in him may have eternal life, and I shall raise him on the last day." 

He makes so many wondrous promises, doesn’t He? And because He always fulfills His promises, His Church calls us to celebrate God’s merciful love and the salvation of all who have gone before us. For today we not only think of and pray for those we have known and loved, but we also confront our own mortality. Today we pray for those who have died before us, and in doing so are reminded that we too will die. But death is nothing to fear; for Jesus will raise us up at the last judgment to live with him forever. As we prayed in today’s Psalm:

“To dwell in the house of the Lord for years to come…” 

He reminds us, too, that the Father doesn’t want Him to lose any entrusted to His care, but to lead us to eternal life. We must do our part and pray diligently for all our departed, remembering today those who have died in the hope of seeing God face to face. 

Remembering those who died after having sought God with a sincere heart. 

Remembering those who struggled to accept the gift of faith, those who so often slipped into despair. 

But we do not judge them, brothers and sisters, we leave that to the only One who knows their hearts. Indeed, the Father wants no one to be lost. And so, remembering all, we too can pray those words we heard from the Book of Wisdom:

“…chastised a little, they shall be greatly blessed, because God tried them and found them worthy of Himself.” 

In my own remembering, decades of names and faces pass before me – the many lives that touched mine with love and wisdom in times of sorrow and joy. For each I remember a characteristic, a word, or a moment that captures the person for me; and pray that each now shares in the glory of seeing God face to face. Like you and me, they were sinners, but we trust in His mercy for them and for ourselves. Filled with hope, we look forward to joining them one day. Only then shall we know God as He is; only then shall He make us like Himself. 

 As he begins the Liturgy of the Eucharist Father Vitalis will invite us to lift up our hearts in praise and thanksgiving to God. It is good that we do so. Even though our hearts are sorrowful at the loss of those we love, we should indeed lift them up. We praise God on this special day, thanking Him for these precious lives, for these unique and unrepeatable lives we were privileged to share. 

 Above all, give thanks to God for the gift of eternal life He offers us through His Son, Jesus Christ. With that promise before us, we recall the words of Jesus to His disciples on the night before His own death:

“…Do not let your hearts be troubled. You have faith in God. Have faith also in me.” 

Yes, brothers and sisters, today we pray that our Lord Jesus has taken each into His loving embrace, that He’s wiped away the tears, and given them the first taste of that eternal joy we all hope to share.

One more thing...Before Mass someone asked me if I were going to say something about the election. Of course, we are not supposed to tell you whom you should vote for. But I think I can tell you what you should vote for. Vote for Life, brothers and sisters. Vote for Life!

COVID-19 Bible Study Reflection #17: Faith, Doubt, Fear and Divine Mercy

Today, I hope to address the gift of faith, while touching on the doubts and fears that attack those who do not fully accept this gift from God. That’s right, brothers and sisters, faith is a gift – as the theologian would say, a gratuitous gift. You and I neither deserve it, nor can we work to achieve it. It’s not something we can conjure up on our own. Instead it’s something God offers us in the divine hope that we will accept it.

I’ll begin today by turning to the Gospel according to John, where the evangelist recounts the first post-Resurrection appearance of Jesus to the disciples. Listen to God’s Word and read these verses from John, chapter 20, verses 19 to 31:

On the evening of that first day of the week, when the doors were locked, where the disciples were, for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood in their midst and said to them, “Peace be with you.” When he had said this, he showed them his hands and his side. The disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord. Jesus said to them again, “Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” And when he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, “Receive the holy Spirit. Whose sins you forgive are forgiven them, and whose sins you retain are retained.”

Thomas, called Didymus, one of the Twelve, was not with them when Jesus came. So, the other disciples said to him, “We have seen the Lord.” But he said to them, “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands and put my finger into the nail marks and put my hand into his side, I will not believe.” Now a week later his disciples were again inside, and Thomas was with them. Jesus came, although the doors were locked, and stood in their midst and said, “Peace be with you.” Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here and see my hands, and bring your hand and put it into my side, and do not be unbelieving, but believe.” Thomas answered and said to him, “My Lord and my God!” Jesus said to him, “Have you come to believe because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and have believed.”

Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of his disciples that are not written in this book. But these are written that you may come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through this belief you may have life in his name. [John 20:19-31]

It’s really a remarkable passage, isn’t it? In fact, there’s so much there, I suppose we could spend the rest of our lives plumbing its depths. But today all we can do is scratch the surface, and hope that by doing so, we can deepen our faith, cast aside the doubts, and relieve the fears.

Our Gospel passage relates an event that takes place in the evening of that first Easter Sunday, when the Risen Jesus appears to the Apostles in the upper room.

They’d hidden there since Friday’s crucifixion. Told of the empty tomb by Mary Magdalene, Peter and John had gone to see for themselves. John claims he “saw and believed,” but followed this by admitting he and Peter really didn’t understand the Resurrection …at least not yet.

Then Mary told them of her personal encounter with the Risen Lord; but did they really believe her? We know they doubted, and we know, too, they were afraid. Indeed, fear kept them hidden behind the locked doors of the upper room. One suspects their faith was weak, plagued by those same doubts and fears.

But then, despite locked doors, despite doubts and fears, Jesus is there, standing in their midst. He is alive! And he speaks to them:

“Peace be with you” [Jn 20:19].

He shows them the marks, the nail marks, the gash in his side, the wounds He suffered for their salvation and the salvation of the world. And, yes, they rejoice in His presence, even though they don’t yet understand how this all came to be.

Again, he greets them,

“Peace be with you,” but then He adds, “As the Father has sent me, so I send you” [Jn 20:21].

His words, though, are a mystery. Sent? Sent where? Sent when? Sent to do what? They don’t know. All that will come later.

But Jesus isn’t quite finished with them this evening. He has more to do and to say.

He breathes on them, and they feel it, the breath of His mouth, coming from His Risen Body. Yes, He is certainly alive, for dead men don’t breathe. And as He breathed, He says,

“Receive the holy Spirit. Whose sins you forgive are forgiven them, and whose sins you retain are retained” [Jn 20:22-23].

Once more, they’re lost in His words. Did He just say we’ll be forgiving sins? How does that work? All this sending out and forgiving of sins…for now it remains a mystery. And so, in joy they focus only on what they can see, the living, Risen Jesus. And with that He leaves them, just as He had arrived.

It seems, however, one Apostle, Thomas, wasn’t there. Where was he? We don’t know. John never tells us. But just imagine how Thomas felt when the others told him,

“We have seen the Lord” [Jn 20:25].

Did he simply disbelieve what they told him? Or was he angry with Jesus for coming when he wasn’t there? Perhaps he wondered why Jesus came when he, and only he was absent. We don’t know because John doesn’t tell us that either. All he tells us is what Thomas said:

“Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands and put my finger into the nail marks and put my hand into his side, I will not believe” [Jn 20:25].

With these words, Thomas secures the title we hear so often: doubting Thomas. His words, after all, were hard words from a man who had spent three years with Jesus. For three years Thomas had witnessed the miracles, had seen hundreds healed of every illness, had even seen the dead brought back to life. Yes, for three years Thomas had been in the presence of “the Christ, the Son of the living God” [Mt 16:16]. But Jesus gives him another week to think about it. For Thomas, it must have been a long week. What did he do as he waited? John, of course, tells us nothing, but we can guess.

Once again, it’s Sunday, the Lord’s Day of the New Covenant, the Second Sunday of Easter, the day we celebrate as Divine Mercy Sunday. The Apostles are still locked in the upper room, still afraid, and likely still troubled by doubts. But this time all eleven are there. Thomas is with them.

Once again, Jesus stands in their midst, and once again, He says,

“Peace be with you” [Jn 20:26].

But then He turns to Thomas and says,

“Put your finger here and see my hands and bring your hand and put it into my side, and do not be unbelieving, but believe” [Jn 20:27].

Does Thomas reach out and touch those wounds? John doesn’t tell us, but I don’t believe he did. For there was no need. He can see the wounds with his eyes. And he can feel the shame, the guilt, overflowing in his heart. Like the women who ran from the empty tomb the week before, Thomas, too, was surely “fearful yet overjoyed” [Mt 28:8]. But in the face of Our Lord, Thomas sees only love, forgiveness, and divine mercy.

He answers with five words, making a perfect act of faith:

“My Lord and my God!” [Jn 20:28]

Yes, doubting Thomas is now believing Thomas, the apostle who later died a martyr for the faith he expressed that Second Sunday of Easter. He became a messenger, an Apostle of Mercy, a missionary to India where he shed his blood for his Lord and his God. Like his brother Apostles, like you and I, like all the baptized, Thomas was sent.

John uses this encounter between Apostle and Lord to break open in the Gospel account the implications of the bodily Resurrection of Jesus, a profoundly important aspect of our Christian faith. Jesus, who stands before the Apostles, is no ghost, no ethereal apparition [Lk 24:37]. The Risen Jesus is the Living Jesus. His body bears His wounds. He speaks. He breathes. He lets Himself be touched [Lk 24:39]. He eats with them [Lk 24:43] He is alive, glorified, but alive.

These first two meetings between Jesus and the Apostles are actually deeply Eucharistic. Jesus comes to them, Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity, in communion, and they receive Him in a shared communion with each other. It’s a renewal of the communion of the Last Supper, celebrated here in that same upper room, the first Christian Church, on the Lord’s Day.

And today, millions of us all around the world, utter those same faith-filled words of Thomas when faced with Jesus’ Eucharistic Real Presence at the elevation during Mass: “My Lord and my God!” [Jn 20:28].

Pope St Gregory the Great (590-604), preached a marvelous homily on this encounter between Thomas and the Risen Lord. He tells us it’s good to remember that there are no coincidences with God. It was not by chance that Thomas was absent on that first Sunday. He returned, he heard, he doubted, Jesus returned, Thomas saw, even touched, and he believed. All happened according to God’s plan. The wound of Thomas’ disbelief was healed by the wounds of Our Lord’s Living, Risen Body. Thomas, then, becomes the witness to the reality of the Resurrection.

Before He leaves the Apostles on this Second Sunday, Jesus leaves Thomas with a kind reminder of his doubts, but then addresses you and me:

“Blessed are those who have not seen and have believed.”

That’s us, brothers and sisters. We’re the non-seers who believe. As such we are called to bring the risen Christ to others. Like the Apostles, we are invited to become living witnesses in our own day to the reality of the Resurrection of Jesus Christ.

On that first Divine Mercy Sunday, Thomas confronted the wounds of his beloved Savior so they could heal the wounds of our own disbelief. Let us then approach the throne of Mercy and cry out with Thomas:

"My Lord and My God" [Jn 20:28].

Those who do will be forever changed, just as the Apostles were changed. But the Resurrection was so utterly miraculous that even after being with the risen Jesus, many disciples still harbored doubts. As Matthew described their last meeting with Jesus right before His Ascension:

"The eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain to which Jesus had ordered them. When they saw Him, they worshipped, but they doubted" [Mt 28:16-17].

“…they doubted.” It would take the Holy Spirit to cure them of their doubts, which He did 10 days later on that first Pentecost Sunday. And what a difference He made.

Just consider Peter, who became a messenger of mercy. He was so filled with the Spirit of the Risen Lord that Jesus could continue His redemptive mission through him, accomplishing miraculous deeds. In the Acts of the Apostles we read that even the shadow of Peter brought merciful healing [Acts 5:15].

John, the “beloved disciple” and evangelist, was imprisoned on the Island of Patmos. There he would continue to receive the consoling and liberating mercy of the Savior. There the Spirit inspired him to write these words of the vision he had received:

“Do not be afraid. I am the first and the last, the one who lives. Once I was dead, but now I am alive forever and ever. I hold the keys to death and the netherworld” [Rev 1:17-18].

And then there was Thomas. Jesus turned Thomas’ doubt into an event of Mercy for generations to come. Out of the repentance born from seeing Mercy Incarnate and the wounds of His Divine love, came that response, those wonderful words that have formed the most profound of personal prayers for centuries: “My Lord and My God”

Pope St Gregory was so right, “Thomas’ doubt healed the wounds of all of our doubts”

At the Liturgy of Canonization for Sister Mary Faustina Kowalski, on Sunday, April 30, 2000, the Pope St. John Paul II proclaimed:

“…Jesus shows his hands and his side. He points, that is, to the wounds of the Passion, especially the wound in his heart, the source from which flows the great wave of mercy poured out on humanity. From that heart Sister Faustina Kowalska, the blessed whom from now on we will call a saint, will see two rays of light shining from that heart and illuminating the world: ‘The two rays,’ Jesus himself explained to her one day, ‘represent blood and water’ …Divine Mercy reaches human beings through the heart of Christ crucified.”

Contemplating Jesus’ sufferings, you and I, then, are faced with a question. How do we take Christ’s Divine Mercy to others? How do we respond to the sufferings of our neighbors? Do their sufferings fill our hearts as well. For that’s what compassion truly means: to “suffer with.” As St. Faustina wrote, “I would like all their sorrows to fall upon me, in order to relieve my neighbor."

God places each of us, each uniquely created individual, in a certain time, in a certain place, and with certain gifts, and does so for a certain reason. We cannot choose our time and place, only what we do with the time given to us. But of one thing we can be certain: each of us is called to be a messenger of His Divine Mercy, an instrument of the peace of Christ in our own little corner of the world.

Jesus also told St. Faustina that, “Humanity will not find peace until it turns trustfully to Divine Mercy."