LIBRARY OF HOMILIES
FROM
FATHER CHRIS
April 2000
4th Sunday of Lent
April 2nd - 4th Sunday in Lent (English)
April 9th - 5th Sunday in Lent (English)
April 16th - Palm Sunday (English)
April 21st - Good Friday (English)
When Adam and Eve sinned in the Garden of Eden the first thing
they did was hide. They were afraid to show themselves to God.
God knew they had sinned because they were hiding. Ever since that
time we human beings tend to hide ourselves. We don’t want others
to see everything. When we are small we hide vegetables under the
plate because we don’t want to eat them. We figure that since we
can’t see them, neither can Mom or Dad. When we get a little older
we hide the broken vase because we don’t want to be punished. Sometimes
if we are really clever we may even have used glue and tried to put all
the pieces back together and turned the vase just enough so that the crack
won’t be noticed.
As we move into the teen years we have lots of secrets.
We try to hide acne so that others won’t see it. We hide in our rooms
to be away from younger brothers and sisters. We put on earphones
and hide from our loneliness or just to be away from the world. If
we have told a lie or gossiped we want to hide from the person we have
deceived. Teens hide from parents, teachers, and other authority
figures not to get caught doing something that we shouldn’t do.
When we get a little older we get better at hiding things
and ourselves. We have machines that can intercept our calls. We
learn ways to hide from our bosses or from deadlines by coming up with
very reasonable excuses why the project is late. We hide our feelings
and don’t want our spouse or children to know about everything we have
done in our past.
The funny thing about hiding or deceiving others about ourselves
is that usually the truth comes out. Mom always sees the food under
the plate and the vase that was broken from playing in the house.
Our looks give us away when we have lied about someone. When we miss
homework or a deadline that usually means that something else will have
to get sacrificed later to complete the project.
Very few of us have physical blindness, but we sure like to
have spiritual and social blindness. We don’t want others to see
us and we don’t really want to see others the way they really are.
It’s disappointing to know that someone we like or admire has lied to us.
It’s embarrassing to get caught in a lie or to catch someone else.
Why do we hide? It seems to me two reasons. One
has to do with our fallen nature. We have sinned and we know that
we are not what we should be. We are lazy, selfish, greedy, or mean.
These are not characteristics we are proud of, but they reside within us
nonetheless. The second reason is that we want to be loved and accepted.
Since we know we have these undesirable characteristics and fear that we
won’t be accepted with them, we hide. Probably most of the hiding
we do has to do with a fear of rejection. Who likes to admit they
are wrong or that they have hurt another?
Jesus came into the world to show us that we are loved and
accepted even though we are imperfect. The man born blind is thought
to be sinful. It must have been a terrible sin of his parents or
something that he did that caused this dreadful blindness. Jesus
reminds the disciples that it is not because of sin that the man is blind.
Instead, it is to show the glory of God. Jesus restores
his sight so that he can see the generous love of God. Luckily for
this man, he does see and becomes a follower.
The Pharisees are the righteous and holy ones. They
are thought to be above sin and reproach. The man who recovered his
sight shows that they are really the blind ones. They are the ones
who refuse to see the glory of God displayed in Jesus. They try to
hide behind their façade, but it doesn’t work. God sees the
heart. He knows what really motivates the Pharisees.
What blindness do you have? What am I blind to in my
life? Are we willing to let Jesus cure us? Or would we rather
just walk around into walls and pretend that we aren’t blind? I think
many of us would rather just do that. Even though it gets painful
walking into walls, that may be preferable than having to change.
Amen.
“If you would have been here, my brother would never have died,”
says Martha to the Lord. How many times in life do we realize that
things take longer than we would like? All of us have to wait for
things to occur. We have to wait to be sixteen to drive. We
have to be eighteen to vote and twenty-one to legally purchase alcohol.
We wait for doctor’s results and for vacation to begin. Everyone
knows that waiting is a part of life. Yet, it’s probably the one
thing that everyone hates. No one likes to wait in a line at the
food store or inch along in stop and go traffic during rush hour.
We figure it’s a necessary evil. We look for opportunities to avoid
having to wait.
It’s a real struggle to have to wait on people. It seems
impossible when we have to wait on God. Martha and Mary were dear
friends of Jesus. When their brother, Lazarus, fell ill they thought
that Jesus would arrive in time to cure him. They had seen some of
his miracles before. They had heard of stories of the many times
Jesus healed people throughout Israel. Now it was their turn and
Jesus wasn’t there.
Through our study of the Gospel we know that at the time of
Jesus the raising of someone dead less than four days might be seen as
a cure. Their understanding of sickness had no way of accounting
for someone who was in a deep coma. It happened enough times that
people would “recover” when they were thought dead that true death couldn’t
be ascertained until three days had passed. We know in hindsight that Jesus
raised Lazarus to life to prove his power over everything including death.
Yet, while Martha and Mary waited on Jesus they must have
wondered if God was really present to them. Whenever you are in the
midst of a problem any time waiting seems too long. It’s only after
the fact that the waiting doesn’t seem so bad. When you are waiting
for hours around the bed of someone who is sick praying for a healing and
nothing seems to happen until the person finally regains consciousness,
the waiting seems too long. When you’ve lost your job and the bills
are mounting and you are waiting to hear from the places you put in applications,
the waiting seems too long.
God’s plan is difficult to figure out. Often we are
left with a nagging feeling that we are facing life all alone. Stories
like the raising of Lazarus remind us of just the opposite. We are
not alone. Our waiting is not in vain. God very much is near
to us during those times.
In the Gospel story Jesus’ delay in coming to Martha and Mary
gives time for the disciples to come to grips with the profound significance
of what is taking place. Martha and Mary will ultimately be able
to make a profession of faith in Jesus not as a wonder worker, but as the
Messiah, even without seeing how everything will work out. That is
faith. The same thing will be required of the apostles on Good Friday.
The story of the raising of Lazarus like the stories of the
previous two Sundays remind us that there is nothing that is more powerful
than Christ. Two weeks ago we heard of a woman who was a public outcast
because of her sins. She was a Samaritan and a woman. She had
three strikes against her. Jesus saw goodness in her and gave her
a mission. He allowed her to receive living water and preach hope
to the village that wouldn’t accept her. Last Sunday we heard of
a man born blind. His parents rejected him; he was thrown out of
the synagogue and once healed, could no longer beg for his survival.
Christ freed him from his physical burdens, gave him a place of welcome
with the apostles as a brother, and let him know that his faith drew him
close to the Father. Today, Lazarus reminds us that nothing is more
powerful than the grace of Christ. Whatever binds us hand and foot
and leaves us dead in a tomb can be overcome. Our grieving is heard,
our sins are forgiven, and we are welcome in the company of the Lord.
First Homily: The drama recorded in this passion reading is
a biting commentary on human fickleness. We witness the faceless crowd
at one moment proclaiming "Hosannas" to Jesus and in the next demanding
his crucifixion. We observe the Jewish leaders who would protect their
interests at whatever price, and the Roman governor, Pilate, who would
sacrifice justice to political expediency. And then, even more painfully,
we note that Judas betrays Jesus, Peter denies him, and his closest friends
and followers abandon him.
We could likely provide our own stories of how we have experienced
fickleness and betrayal at other people's hands, even those who have been
dear to us. All of us bear scars of mental, emotional, and even physical
abuse. On the other hand, if we are honest with ourselves, we might provide
examples of our own fickleness, of how others have suffered from our misuse
and neglect. There have been times when we betrayed our ideals and
abandoned our friends. Times we joined the crowd and gave in to public
sentiment, judging or condemning people we knew little about. Times we
opted for expediency by finding refuge in a lie. Times we protected our
interests by doing all in our power to put down our competition. Human
nature makes us all partners in weakness. How are we to be saved?
Second Homily: Shh!! Don’t tell anyone! Have you heard
that before? All of us have at one time or another been told a secret
that we were asked not to tell anyone else. Maybe you listened to
that person and kept the secret. Most of us can’t help but tell someone
else of what we know.
Throughout the Gospel Jesus tells everyone to keep a secret.
He cures someone who has leprosy. Immediately he tells the individual
not to mention this to anyone. When the disciples see Jesus transfigured
on the mountain they are awestruck. They see Moses and Elijah speaking
with Jesus. Certainly this is a sign that the Kingdom that Jesus
proclaimed is about to dawn. Yet, Jesus tells them not to say anything
about this vision until after his death. This seems very strange.
Now we understand why Jesus tells everyone to be silent about
his miracles and power. To truly understand Jesus you must see the
cross. The only way to grasp who Jesus really is you must be willing
to accept fully the mystery of suffering and death. That’s not the
normal way of doing things.
We prefer to find any other way than the way of suffering.
When you or I am in pain we find a doctor who will stop that pain.
We will spend lots of money on drugs and therapies to avoid pain.
When we are weak and afraid we will put on a happy face and use humor.
Some people will lash out in violence rather than show weakness.
Sometimes when we want people to like us or respect us we will show how
powerful, exciting or good-looking we are. Who doesn’t want to put
on a good face for others? That’s the human way of doing things.
Jesus is fully human and because of that could have chosen
to use his power to impress the crowds. Jesus could have had a legion
of angels sent forth from God to destroy his crucifiers. He could
have turned the Roman swords into noodles. He could have called on
God to send a tornado upon that hill and had everyone destroyed.
Jesus did not choose the way of humanity.
Instead, Jesus showed us that the true nature of humanity
is found only in total reliance on God, even in the midst of complete aloneness.
It is likely that Jesus did not feel any consolation from God during his
darkest hour. It is possible that he wondered how God was going to
save him and not heard anything. Jesus endured the most horrific
suffering in his passion and yet trusted that God was with him. That
is the lesson that can only be revealed by a soldier once Jesus has died.
We are saved by one who would not deny service to God.
He would not choose the path of least resistance. He wouldn’t choose
to abandon us by being fickle. This is the Lord and Messiah, obedient
to death, even death on a cross. Let us adore!
It was two weeks now since the funeral. She sat alone
in your living room in the usual place. Everything was the same,
except one. Her husband of 40 years was gone. His easy chair
was empty now. The sound of his voice was replaced with only silence.
All of her relatives had gone home. The last of the donated food
was gone, yet it seemed such a chore to make a meal. Everything was
harder to do, now that he was gone. She found herself not sleeping
very well. She would get up even if it was three in the morning and
just sit in the silence or try to find comfort by watching something on
TV. Nothing seemed to work.
She believed that her husband was with the Lord. She
was thankful that he was no longer in pain. The sickness over the
last couple of years really took a toll on his spirit. It was hard
on everyone. Yet, there are times when she wished she could have
a few more minutes, even though he was in pain. Saying goodbye for
the last time was not easy.
Death is seldom easy. The loss is extreme for those
who remain. Yes, intellectually we know and believe that our beloved
dead would not want to trade places with us. We trust that they are
experiencing joy and peace. We can imagine what their life is now
like with the Lord. Yet, the pain of their death is very real.
They are missed. Their voice, their humor, their idiosyncrasies,
everything about them is missing. There is a gap that can’t be filled.
I can only imagine what must have been going through the hearts
and minds of those closest to Jesus on Good Friday. Mary was standing
at the foot of the cross. She had experienced the pain and suffering
of her son in a way that no person should have to experience. Crucifixion
is not pleasant. It is an extremely painful death. Likewise,
she experienced the ridicule of the soldiers and the religious officials.
I am sure that they must have blamed her for doing something wrong.
That is why her son turned out the way he did and died the way he did.
What could she say? When the body of her beloved son was placed in
her arms, the agony that must have been hers.
The apostles too felt the emptiness of Jesus’ death.
They had given years of their life to his service. Now he was gone.
On top of that they had to deal with the guilt of not doing something to
stop his death. They realize now they could have prevented Jesus
from being taken by the soldiers. If they couldn’t have done that,
they certainly could have raised protest at his trial. They could
have done something to stop this injustice from occurring. The apostles
must also deal with their fear. Maybe they will be next. Maybe
the scribes and Pharisees will hunt them down and turn them over to the
Romans. Will they have the courage of Jesus to face execution?
Most probably would have said no.
There were others who experienced the death of Christ.
There was Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus. There were the crowds
who had not turned against Christ. There was Martha, Mary, and Lazarus.
There were the many people Jesus cured and forgave their sins. All
of these sat in stunned silence at the news that the Lord was dead.
How could this be?
You and I know that Jesus did not stay locked in that tomb.
Easter Sunday would vindicate Jesus, life and death. Yet, if we pause
for a moment and realize that Jesus’ death was as real as the widow who
sits alone in the darkness, as the young child in Africa who wonders why
his Mommy had to die so young, as the grieving grandmother who sees her
grandson lying dead in a hospital from a gang shooting. For anyone
who has experienced death, even if it is “natural” there is pain.
Jesus died for us that we might live. Everyone who loved Jesus experienced
that pain and loss. We are not alone in our loss. We often
wish that it could be different, but instead of ending pain and loss on
this earth, Jesus embraced it all. He then gave us each other and
the intercession of Mary and the saints who endured his death as our helpers.
May the Lord who died for us all be with each of us, especially in our
pain and sorrow. Amen
I have been fortunate to have seen the Grand Canyon and several
other canyons in Utah. They are magnificent to behold. The
first time I visited the Grand Canyon I was with several college friends.
We stopped at one lookout and spent some time there. Then we went
to a second lookout. And then a third. I think we went to about
five. At first I thought, if you are at one place why would you need
to go to a second or third. I didn’t understand it then. The
friends that I had been with had seen the canyon before. They knew
why. I needed to be there to understand it. You can’t take
it all in at one place. You need to see it from many different perspectives.
That was 18 years ago. Two years ago I had a chance to see the Grand
Canyon again. It was no less spectacular. It was no less enthralling,
even though I knew what I was going to see. I had those memories
emblazoned in my mind.
I think that it must have been something like that for the
women who went to the tomb on Easter morning. They went there not
sure what they would experience. They figured they were going to
pay their respects to Jesus and anoint his body in the tomb. They
worried about how they would get to him since there was a huge stone rolled
across the entrance to the tomb. They weren’t expecting resurrection.
When they get to the tomb they find it empty. The stone
is rolled away and Jesus is not there. The Gospels relate how they
found angels at the tomb telling them that Jesus has been raised.
How can this be? They are stunned and upset, confused and yet hopeful.
They find it too much to take in immediately. They run back to the
upper room to tell Peter and the other apostles.
Peter and the Beloved Disciple go to the tomb and find things
as the women say. They too are taken aback. They want to believe
that Jesus is alive, but don’t want to have a false hope. They need
time to digest what this all means.
You and I have the privilege of being followers of Christ.
We know the resurrection took place nearly 2000 years ago. Yet, what
does that mean for us today? How do we make sense of it? We
need time to reflect on what this mystery means. We need to keep
coming back to the empty tomb and reflecting on this mystery.
Maybe the resurrection of Jesus is something that has to be
lived over and over again to be grasped fully. In the midst of our
lives, and long before the grave presents the final challenge, we have
had many victories over death. They are victories of the Spirit;
they are the experience of resurrection now. There is a dying and
letting go when you enter marriage and leave the single life. When
you go off to college, join the military, or move to a different location.
There is a new beginning, and there can be a new life. Simply the
courage to grow up and leave behind childhood is a form of death and resurrection.
Perhaps you have had to deal with a child that was difficult,
a strain in your marriage, or a difficulty in forgiving, or the guilt of
your own sins that you can’t let go of. In each case it is the power
of God bringing life out of death, helping us to more abundant life.
It is the power of resurrection which can happen every day. Each
time that love or compassion or conscience and faith—always faith—win the
victory in us, then the mystery of the resurrection is created anew within
us.
We need this life-giving power to raise up society as well
as ourselves. Here especially are burdens that weigh heavily upon
us. We live in a society that seems helpless to overcome greed, selfishness,
and violence. The power of the resurrection can even overcome these
impossible problems.
The resurrection has released a power into the world.
This power is the life-giving grace of God raising up those who believe.
Does your faith seem too weak to take in this power today? Our Church
knows that is so. We have the next seven weeks to ponder this mystery.
After that we have the rest of our lives. Mystery, love, beauty,
and God’s redeeming grace are just too wonderful to be fully grasped at
once. Take the time Christ has given to enjoy the wonder of His love.
Amen. Alleluia.
There was a community of monks. They wanted to live like
the early church and share everything in common. They brought all
their possessions to the Father Superior. He then took these possessions
and locked them in a vault. Some of the monks came from very wealthy
families. They had many possessions. They had gold and silver
chalices. They had fine linens to be used on the altar. There
were other monks who came from families that were poor. They brought
the few meager clothes and items they had and gave them to the superior.
Everyone felt very good about sharing his or her possessions.
As each of the monks worked in the fields and in the village
any money and gifts they received was given to the Father Superior.
He kept things locked up. Everyone in the monastery had enough to
eat. They all had clothing on their backs and the tools they needed
to do the work that was assigned them. But some started doubting
that the Father Superior was being fair in how he doled out the goods of
the community. Not everyone was happy.
A little while passed and a couple of the monks were talking
with each other how they noticed that some of the other monks didn’t seem
to work very hard. They, on the other hand, always did a full days
work and came home tired. It didn’t seem fair that everyone got the
same measure when some worked harder than others. Further discontent
spread among the brothers.
A few of the monks who were wealthy before they entered the
monastery would occasionally visit their families. When they went
home they would be served fine food and eat at expensive tables.
They would enjoy a feast and even take some of those things back with them
to the monastery. They began to wonder if the poorer brothers were
using them. Maybe the other monks joined this monastery only because
they knew that the richer brothers would provide things their own families
would not give. Pretty soon everyone began to distrust everyone else.
There was no longer harmony in the monastery.
That story I made up. Yet, I would bet that in every
religious community something like that has occurred. Likewise in
every society that has tried to live as a commune or in a socialistic way
has soon found that doubt, jealousy, selfishness, and laziness creep in.
All of these things break down the love and support that Christians should
have for one another. The experiment usually ends or needs strict
rules governing the use of funds in order to prevent jealousy from taking
over.
The community that we hear about in Acts today is similar.
It seems ideal. Perhaps for awhile it was. But if we read a
little further in that same passage we read of someone who chose not to
give all their possessions because they didn’t trust the apostles to distribute
the goods evenly. Even at the very beginning a lack of trust would
cause disharmony in the Church.
It might not seem possible. Yet, we see that even the
apostles who shared their lives with Jesus had their doubts and fears.
They experienced all the greatness of Jesus and wondered if it was real.
They questioned who Jesus really was. Thomas makes a great profession
of faith, but the others had their doubts too. All of them wondered
if Jesus had really risen from the dead or if it had only been wishful
thinking. They had the room they were staying in locked tightly.
They were afraid.
You and I know that whether it’s trying to share generously
our gifts and talents with others or whether it’s trying to live in harmony
with other Christians there are doubts and fears. We know that Christ
is risen and still we find our old sinful ways creep in more than we would
wish. I think it is probably wise that the Church gives us the second
Sunday of Easter each year to hear of “doubting Thomas.” All of us
are doubting Thomas’ in some way. We find it hard to see Christ in
the poor or the sick. Maybe we can’t imagine how the wounded among
us, the addicts, the depressed, the unemployed should merit our love and
respect. Maybe we have been betrayed and hurt by another Christian.
That makes it harder to love again. We doubt the power and grace
of Christ to heal and restore us. We doubt many things.
Let us ask Thomas to help us make a profession of faith without
placing our hands into Jesus side. Let us ask him to help us see
Christ in one another despite our doubts and fears. Amen.