8 May 2022 at Saint William Catholic Church in Naples, FL

Acts of the Apostles 13, 14, 43-52 + Psalm 100 + Revelation 7, 9, 14-17 + John 10, 27-30

A sheepherder once said that “Sheep are born looking for a way to die.” They go into gullies, get tangled up in brambles, fall into ditches, and wander into the territory of predators. They are utterly defenseless. Even dogs and cats can find their way home, and dogs and cats can defend themselves against danger or run from something bigger. Not so with sheep. You feed a dog, pet it, take it for walks, and the dog thinks: “Wow, this must be a god.” With a cat, feed it, care for it, and the cat thinks: “Wow, I must be god.” It is neither that way for sheep.

Sometimes when the Gospel speaks of sheep and shepherds, the emphasis is on the Shepherd. In this case, the emphasis is on the sheep. Rather than reveal something about the Shepherd, it speaks about us as the sheep, and our need to hear the voice of the Shepherd. It is a voice that speaks to the depths of our hearts, a voice that always calls us to metanoia, that powerful Greek word that means conversion, change which is a life-long effort to be renewed, converted, and different from the way we might like to be.

It is the comfortable, self-assured Hebrew people that were such a challenge and disappointment to Paul when he shares is feelings with the people of Rome. That minority of Jews in the Roman culture was steadfastly faithful to their old ways which were being challenged by the message of the Gospel Paul preached to them. The message of Paul is no different today. Openness to the new is what he asked of them and still asks of us.

Metanoia always begins with confusion, that uncomfortable feeling that my truth may not be completely right. For those who rejected Paul it was just easier to reject what was new rather than discern whether it was of God. Our Holy Father has suggested that sometimes in order to hear what the Lord asks of us we must free ourselves from false certainties. Growth, change, metanoia is always difficult, but it is a necessary part of life, and an essential feature of faith. We never stop growing deeper into our faith, and God is never finished with us. Refusing change risks closing our ears to the voice of the Shepherd.

We are reminded this week by the Word of God that following the Good Shepherd is often neither easy nor clear. The history of Israel and the history of the Church that is ever changing and ever new reminds us that God continually calls us to newness. We must be willing to let go of things we sometimes feel certain and “right” about if we want to hear the voice of the Shepherd today. 

There is one thing we can be sure of. The Shepherd is always trying to lead us beyond where we are into greater, broader, deeper love, and that will often be unruly, confusing, and new. 

1 May 2022 at Saint William & Saint Peter Catholic Churches in Naples, FL

Acts of the Apostles 5, 27-32 + Psalm 30 + Revelation 5, 11-14 + John 21, 1-19

Two charcoal fires burn in John’s Gospel. The first warms Peter in the courtyard of the High Priest when as predicted, Peter denies his master three times. Today another charcoal fire burns, and Jesus invites Peter to atone for his cowardice by confessing his love three times. Each time Peter is asked to show that love by service: “Feed my lambs.” Then as before Jesus predicts something about Peter saying that this service may take him where he does not want to go. Taking a stand for the unborn, the homeless, the voiceless, the hungry, the harassed, and the condemned will sometimes take us where we might not want to go. The social justice of the Church rooted in the Gospel leads us all where we might not want to go. But, that is where those who love God are most often found.

The symbolism of John’s style almost explodes with the verses we proclaim today. As always, it is God who speaks when this Gospel is proclaimed here speaking of loving service, speaking about us, the Church, symbolized by that unbroken net which can hold everyone and not be broken. It’s a net that will hold sinners and saints, black, brown, yellow, and white, regardless of their sexuality, gender, language, or political preferences. That number, 153 in John’s Gospel, says it all.

Yet, that is not the only number in this Gospel giving us something to ponder. There are 7 in that boat, and he names six leaving us to ask if we might be the unnamed who completes the “perfect number, seven.” We are here about to be fed on what is blessed, broken, and given. We are, like Peter, slow to get it right, slow in running to that empty tomb, slow to put aside the fears that sometimes keep us locked up, silent, and ashamed. Yet, we are here, in the daylight recognizing that in the dark, at night, without the light of Christ, we can do nothing. 

The risen one asks us all: “Do you love me?” And now he waits for us to show it. 

24 April 2022 at Saint William Catholic Church in Naples, FL

Acts of the Apostles 5, 12-16 + Psalm 118 + Revelation 1,9-11, 12-13, 17-19 + John 20, 19-31

The disciples encountered a transformed, divine Being, not a resuscitated corpse. They recognized their friend and teacher, Jesus of Nazareth, but he was now their Lord in glory. That is what this Gospel reveals to us about those gathered in that room. They are not fact checking the story of those women who went to the empty tomb. There is a life-changing experience going on here. Doubt and Fear are giving way to Faith and Hope. How that happens is what John is describing in these verses.

For Thomas, faith did not come easily. Yet because of his relationship with those other disciples and because of their relationship with Jesus, he could move deeply into the mystery only believers can understand. He wanted to “see” with human eyes, and when he did, his mind and heart saw the glory of God moving him to proclaim what had been so hard to see before the crucifixion and death. Suddenly, at that moment, Thomas realized that the effects of evil, horrible as they were, were not the greatest power, because love and forgiveness are.

For Jesus, the mission was not quite complete. There was more to do than conquer death. He had to draw them from doubt and fear to faith and hope. The one Thomas wanted to touch ended up touching Thomas with that divine love and mercy he had spoken of again and again. Jesus could now finish his work. He breathed on them, and with that act, they came to life recreated and restored. It is, once again, the very moment of creation when God breaths forth life. Now they are truly friends with God just as God intended. 

The Word of God, the Son of God stands before them and says: “Shalom”. It is a word that has no English equivalent. It describes wholeness. For the ancient ones, it described the mending of a net. It has to do with putting together what is broken. When Jesus spoke, that word is was not a wish, but an announcement that he was there in their midst, and their relationship with him was not broken by death. This peace is not something we can produce for ourselves. It is something given and proclaimed by God in Christ. It is a wholeness. It is unity. 

Peace with God comes first. Without it, there can be no peace among us. For believers, it is the total restoration of the relationship broken by sin. It comes with forgiveness, and that power of forgiveness is released through that breath. Forgiveness of sin is the primary work of God’s Spirit. We who have received the Spirit have found Peace with God and carry on his mission of forgiveness which was the driving force in Jesus Christ. It was his mission, forgiveness. This is what brings people into union with God and one another. It generates the peace that Jesus proclaimed.

This then is the purpose of life for believers, forgiveness. In that act of forgiveness, we experience the mercy of God and share that Divine Mercy with all who live in brokenness, loneliness, and misery. Thomas helps us to understand today that faith is a living relationship with Jesus. Life in Christ is not a program to master or perfect, but an endless mystery that will guide us through this life into an eternity of discovery and joy.

17 April 2022 at Saint Peter the Apostle and Saint Agnes Churches in Naples, FL

Acts of the Apostles 10, 34-43 + Psalm 118 + 1 Corinthians 5, 6-80 + John 20, 1-0

There was one of those reality TV shows that I watched once or twice before deciding it was far too sad to be entertaining. It may still be on air, but not because I’ve supported the sponsors. It’s called “Hoarders”. As you may know, the show profiles individuals whose obsessive fear of loss causes a compulsive accumulation of unneeded things. I’ve known a couple of people who suffered from that obsession, and it was truly sad. One of the saddest consequences is how it drives people away, family members, neighbors, and old friends leaving the victim alone and fearful. What is clear about those who suffer from what is obviously an issue of mental health is that the compulsion began with a catastrophic loss, the death of a spouse or some childhood trauma. Memories of some tragic loss drives them to cling to anything that might protect them from another loss. Their only relief is overcoming their fear.

The fear of loss is all around us everywhere. The fear of loss sells security systems and employs security guards. The fear of loss tells us to lock our cars and buy that ever increasingly expensive insurance. That fear of loss leads us to pay nearly as much for a storage unit somewhere as people pay in rent. The fear that we might no longer look young fills medical schools with plastic surgeons, and the fear of dying finds many unprepared, unable, and unwilling to even talk about it, leaving those with faith enough to look forward to what is to come seem really odd.

We don’t have to be a hoarder to feel the chill of death’s shadow because we know deep down that everything we love and rely on will pass away. Fear of the unknown, fear of death, even fear of change can numb our emotions, cloud our vision and make us grasp at things that will rot and wear out. That fear makes us do crazy things and make bad decisions. 

God’s answer to this is what draws us all together on this day and in this place. This day, at the very heart of our faith tradition, reveals God’s plan to transform our doubts, worries, and fears into hope and joy. We are here celebrating Easter not because something wonderful happened for Jesus. We celebrate because what happened for him is given to us: life forever with God and one another. The Resurrection of Christ shows us that we no longer have to live with fears that too often keep us apart leaving us filled with confusion, doubt and frantic efforts to hang on to stuff that will rust and decay. God’s plan in Jesus is far bigger than our puny imaginations. We can face an empty tomb and see something no one else might see.  

John’s Gospel is oddly specific about a detail whose meaning we might not ever have thought about before. It is the condition of those burial cloths. For John they are evidence that death has been defeated. Someone who moved or stole that body would have kept it wrapped up. The sight and smell of a body would have caused disgust, and an unsecured corpse would have been a clumsy burden. Realizing this, the two apostles took the discarded winding-sheet and veil s symbols of the resurrection. The man who bore them needed them no longer. They saw and believed, even though they did not understand how it could have possibly been true.

It is that belief that transformed them and allowed them to move forward even though they did not understand, and forward we go, all of us who believe. We have nothing to lose, those of us who believe. We lose nothing when we love enemies, bless our persecutors, forgive our transgressors, and beg other for forgiveness when we must. Because there is nothing to fear, we can be generous and welcoming to all. When that truth seizes us through faith, we shall suddenly realize that something wonderful is happening to us, and God’s plan is for this to happen again leading us to “go around doing good” just like Jesus did because he still lives through and within us all. 

This is not something we have to intellectually understand, but it is something we must believe if there is to be any hope in our hearts and any hope of this world in God has chosen to be revealed. And so, what more is there to say except: “This is the Day the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad. Why? Not because something wonderful happened for Jesus, but because what happened for him is given to us.

10 April 2022 at Saint Peter the Apostle and Saint William Churches in Naples, FL

Isaiah 50, 4-7 + Psalm 22 + Philippians 2, 6-11 + Luke 22,14 – 23,56

In much of Luke’s Gospel, Jerusalem is not so much a place as it is the destiny of all God’s children. It is why Jesus was so intent on going there in spite of all the threats and danger the journey posed for him. His entry into Jerusalem which we commemorate today is the culmination of his life’s work. It is the fulfillment and the end, and he knew that as he rode into town. He knew he was riding to his death, and that only through death would he ever make it home to the Father. 

In Luke’s typical dramatic style, this last week of life for Jesus is set in several “acts” the first of which is this procession which began way back in Chapter 9 when just after the Transfiguration, Jesus “set his face to go to Jerusalem”. Now with carefully chosen words Luke tells us that Jesus was “ascending” to Jerusalem. He arrives on a borrowed ride. It is a pauper’s throne, and the people are singing what the Angels sang at his birth. Don’t miss that clever Lukan detail.

Every one of the evangelists tell us that the crucifixion was not a disaster that struck down Jesus, but a carefully chosen destiny. Jesus did not die a victim of plotting adversaries. He sacrifices himself in obedience for the sake of all who have been disobedient. He dies fulfilling the will of his Father for the sake of those who did not follow the will of the Father from the very beginning. The disobedience and refusal of Adam and Eve is now set right.

Again, as with every important moment in the life of Jesus, he goes to pray. Before his Baptism, before his Transfiguration, and once again in the garden he prays. This time instead of a voice from the heavens, an angel comforts him. In Luke, angels appear frequently. But this time, God is silent. There is no voice, no cloud, no sound at all. It is as if God would give his son some space. It is as though he needs time to accept the will of the Father he has so often spoken of. Christ could have escaped, but then there would be no escape for us.

While we listen to the Passion being proclaimed today and on Friday, we must not stand and listen nor just wait to speak our lines. We must learn from the last and best lesson we are given by this Rabbi from Nazareth. We can learn from him how to face, accept, and embrace what some might think of as disasters and tragedies. We can learn how to suffer, how to be betrayed, attacked, misunderstood, and even abandoned. We can grow to understand that this is how love is expressed, how hope is seized, and how eternal life is secured. When God seems silent and darkness is about to overcome us, we can learn from Jesus Christ that the Father’s love for us never fails, and no matter what tragedy or disaster may come, there will be an Easter for every one of us who remember the words he spoke: Do This in Memory of Me.

3 April 2022 at St. William Church in Naples, FL

Isaiah 43, 16-21 + Psalm 126 + Philippians 3, 8-14 + John 8, 1-11

This cleverly told story that comes to us from John’s Gospel is loaded with fascinating details to spark our imaginations. At the same time, it is lacking in some details that can also raise some questions in our minds. When it comes to these missing details, we have to wonder how they caught her, and where was the other culprit? If you know the Law of Moses they are quoting, you also know that their quotation is not accurate since the Law of Moses also imposes a penalty on the man. Do these self-appointed enforcers not know the law they seem so ready to enforce?

What we really have here is gang of bullies and an unnamed woman saved by Jesus from a crowd who were out to get him! What we also have here is Jesus confronting the death penalty, and a lot of people don’t like to hear that or even think about it much less learn what Jesus has to say and does about it. What we really have here is meeting of misery and mercy.

In every age people have been fascinated by that detail telling us that Jesus bent down and wrote in the sand. More time has been waisted guessing what he wrote producing nothing more than one silly idea after another. If what was written was really important, John would have told us. What we do know is that Jesus used his finger which every one of those standing there and those who first received John’s Gospel would have remembered is exactly the way God writes on the tablets of Law given to Moses: “with his finger” says Exodus 31, 18. It is also an opportunity to remember that the Law was not given to condemn but as a guide to a godly way of life. 

There is here a delicate balance between the Justice of Jesus in not condoning the sin and his mercy in forgiving the sinner. So, perhaps the writing in the sand is not nearly as important as the posture. John tells us that Jesus bent down. Instead of standing high and mighty, instead of standing over her in judgement, he bent down to her level, and my imagination is that they met eye to eye, and he looked into her soul and again, misery met mercy.

What John seems to be revealing here with this story is not just something about God, but something about us, and how far we often stray from the image in which we were made. Jesus is confronted here by a group of bullies, zealots who have taken upon themselves the indignant enforcing of the law. What Jesus confronts is their zeal for the words of the law that blinds them to the intent of the law. We live in a world of bullies and zealots these days that is rarely tolerates or expects mercy while shouting for justice which in most hands looks more like revenge. 

As this Lenten season moves us toward Holy Week, we are somewhat prepared by this scene for another mob who will be shouting for death. The Jesus sent to us by God has come not to condemn, but to heal and forgive. He comes with empty hands ready to reach down and lift us up surely with the hope that we shall do the same to one another. We can’t do that when our fists are closed around stones of revenge and self-claimed righteousness. Before this Lent comes to an end, we have to drop those stones and embrace our own misery ready to meet mercy.

27 March 2022

Joshua 5, 9-12 + Psalm 34 + 2 Corinthians 5, 17-21 + Luke 15, 1-3-& 11-32

This homily is simply for publication here as I am serving the Maronite Parish in Tequesta, Fl this weekend.

In Luke’s typical style, we get a dramatic piece in five acts: the opening dialogue with the son’s demand, act two with the son’s disillusionment and repentance, act three with his return home, act four with the father and his older son, and act five which remains unfinished. There are four principal characters: the father, two sons, and the listeners, you and me. Each of the characters has an important role. There are really no stars in this drama unless it’s the Father whose presence and spirit seems to drive it all, but concentrating on the Father drains the story of its real message. We hardly need to be reminded that God is good, and none of us could step into that role convincingly. We know how we would likely behave. Some of us would change the locks on the house and cancel all the credit cards that the younger kid might use. Some of us would stand there like the older son with our arms folding, chin in the air, insisting on our privilege because, after all, we’re so dependable and do everything right. Some of us might want to simply remain in the crowd watching it all unfold content to stay where we are and let them work it out.

We are provided this Gospel on the Fourth Sunday in Lent as an urgent plea to find our place in this story which is so like the drama of life. If we are still under the illusion that money and pleasure will make us happy, we need to admit that there is something wrong and something always missing in this life style. It is happiness which is not the same as pleasure, and it is a sense of belonging and real identity.  If we are in the place of that older son, we need to get off our pedestal and listen to our pompous and judgmental talk. That guy never even recognized the other son as his brother. There is something really wrong here. In his haughty attitude, he never even claims the father as his own. He rudely says, “You” every time he opens his mouth.  If we’re standing in that crowd watching it all, we’re still not at the party which has already begun. It might be worse to be a spectator rather than be part of that family.

In any case, the party has begun, the curtain has gone up on the last act of this dramatic piece of Luke’s Gospel. It’s time for us to step out onto the stage with something to celebrate either our own homecoming or the homecoming of those who have been away. The father is waiting for us all.

27 March 2022 at Mary, Mother of Light Maronite Church in Tequesta, Florida

Mark 2, 1-12

A question is put before us: “Which is easier to say, “Pick up your mat and walk or your sins are forgiven?” It’s a good question we might well ask of ourselves. For Jesus the answer is obvious. He can do both with ease. To be honest with you however, I would not approach someone in a wheelchair and say: “Get out of that chair and walk.” If I did, someone might put me away. I could say to anyone: “I forgive you.” At least it ought to be easier to say that than try to heal someone who can’t walk. Forgiveness is something we can do, and we have been instructed by Jesus to do so, even to forgive in his name. But we make it hard with our easy resentments and grudges. Our wounded ego gets in the way, to the point that it’s ridiculous to even ask the question because we don’t want to. It’s a lot more comforting to play the victim and be offended rather than put all of that aside and do what we can to heal a relationship. On the other hand, when we accept forgiveness from others, we recognize our own sickness and sin and find ourselves in the presence of God, whose forgiveness matters the most.  

We should take notice that Jesus calls himself, “Son of Man” here which is a very safe title used by Ezekiel to describe himself because he wanted to be seen as an ordinary person. There is a message here in this title that suggests the answer to the question. It is easier for us human beings to forgive.

Yet, that’s not all we can learn from this incident in Capernaum. We can learn the power of friendship which Jesus recognizes and affirms. It was the faith of that man’s friends that earned him the double gift that Jesus offers: forgiveness and healing. There’s nothing said about that man’s faith except for the faith he had in those friends. Imagine, laying helpless on a mat and being hoisted up onto the roof of a house and then be lowered down through a hole. Not one word is spoken by those men, but their action reveals their faith. This man’s disability is very symbolic. Guilt cripples. It hinders our worship of God and handicaps our relationships with family and friends. We have no idea if the man every says anything because at the moment Jesus forgives him the story takes an ugly turn. 

It is the first time in Mark’s Gospel that we hear of a negative response to his words and works. Up until now, it’s all be exciting and people have flocked to be near him and listen. The accusation of Blasphemy gives us a clue about what is to come.  It is a capital crime by their system, and Jesus understands the cost of forgiveness. To claim the authority to forgive sins is no light matter, and to forgive is not cheap. Yet, if we ever want or hope to bear witness to our faith, it is through our readiness to forgive others, and our willingness to be forgiven. The other great witness is found in the very act of bringing someone to Jesus even if it means climbing up on a roof, digging a hole, and taking a big risk.

So, we are left with the question about which is easier. It is a question that needs an answer from every one of us, and we are left with a remarkable example of faith in action and a the consequence of what faith can do in friendship.

20 March 2022 at St. Peter the Apostle Church in Naples, FL

Exodus 3, 1-8, 13-15 + Psalm 103 + 1 Corinthians 10, 1-6, 10-12 + Luke 13, 1-9

These people who came to Jesus with a great dilemma about God’s justice could just as well be any of us. Many are still caught and confused by the fact that good things happen to bad people. Often, they seem to forget that good things sometimes happen to good people. No matter how you look at there are always deep and serious questions about the balance of God’s justice and God’s mercy. 

Much of the Gospel presents a Jesus trying to shake people out of their deficient yet stubborn ideas about God. The people today are trying to make sense of two horrible tragedies with ideas about God that just don’t work. In the first tragedy, Pilate has murdered good people at prayer. The thinking of the day was that those good people were being punished for secret sins that nobody knew about except God who used Pilate to punish them.  In the second case, those random victims of a falling building leave them wondering if those victims deserved death or if life simply has no rhyme or reason. We do not need these old events from ages ago to be drawn into this dilemma. The suffering in Ukraine, a collapsed high-rise in Miami, terrorist attacks all over the place can put us in the same frame of mind. Bad things whether they happen to good people or bad people have to shake us up and get us wondering about God, about God’s Justice and God’s Mercy.  The second half of this text today gives us the answer Jesus has to this dilemma, and it forces us to think about our very idea of God and how God works. It raises the age-old question about the balance of mercy and justice. 

Saint Luke sees the time in which we live as time we are given for one more chance to bear fruit like that fig tree. It is Jesus who softens Divine Justice with a time of Mercy. He is our advocate whose mercy tempers the reality of Divine justice. During this time, the preaching of the Gospel leads us to be fruitful just like the improvement of the soil often leads a barren tree to fruitfulness. During this time, the Incarnation of the Divine into the human gives us a chance when filled with the Holy Spirit to begin to bear fruit. Our tradition spells out those fruits of the Spirit as charity, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, and gentleness. When any of these are lacking in any of us, we might do well to seize these days of Lent to cultivate a transformation of mind which is what early Christians called “metanoia”. 

A life conformed to God’s vision is the fruitful tree that Jesus hopes for in this Gospel. Good things happen to bad people because God hopes and waits for their transformation which takes time. Luke reminds us today that in Jesus humanity has received a reprieve from divine justice. In these days of mercy, Christ works in the Spirit with each of us always hoping that we will burst into bloom with abundant fruit of charity, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness and gentleness. 

13 March 2022 at St. Agnes, St. William, St Peter Churches in Naples, FL

Genesis 15, 5-12, 17, 18 + Psalm 27 + Philippians 3, 17-4, 1 + Luke 9, 28-36

I like to imagine that when Abraham told Sarah, his wife, about the vision he had that l day, she looked at him, shook her head and said: “You’re seeing things. You smell like dead animals. Wash up and come in for supper.” I can also just as easily imagine that when Peter, James, and John rejoined the other apostles telling them what they had seen, one them, probably Thomas said: “You guys are seeing things.”

Seeing things is part of what this Gospel scene is all about. Matthew and Mark tell of the same event, but they concentrate on how it affected Peter, James, and John. Luke’s presentation is directed more to the effect this experience had on Jesus. In this chapter, just verses before, Peter has made his declaration that he believes Jesus to be the Messiah.  With that, Jesus begins to clarify what kind of Messiah he would be as he tells them that the “Son of Man” will suffer, be rejected, killed, and raised on the third day. Only Luke’s Gospel tells us why Jesus went up that mountain. It was to pray, he says.

All the major events in the life of Jesus are preceded in Luke’s Gospel by a period of prayer: his baptism, the choice of the Twelve, the mission of the 72 disciples, his prayer in Gethsemane and even at the moment of his death. All the “breakthroughs” in the whole history of salvation occur while people are at prayer. The major figures of the Gospel, Mary, Zechariah, Anna, Simeon, the Apostles at Emmaus, the Apostles in an upper room on Pentecost are all people of prayer. So, we are left to wonder about ourselves and how we move forward in life, make decisions, and what kind of things we see.

At this point in the narrative of Luke’s Gospel, Jesus is in Galilee where things are going rather well. Crowds are coming around all the time. They follow him everywhere with great enthusiasm. The carping Pharisees are nowhere to seen. No scribes and picky lawyers are trying to trap him. It’s nice there in Galilee, but he is faced with a decision: stay there or take up his mission and move on to Jerusalem. Jerusalem is a place that kills prophets. It’s not all about him either. He knows that his closest and loyal friends may well suffer more than just disappointment in Jerusalem, they may well suffer the same fate he will likely have. Faced with that decision, he goes up the mountain to pray.

All of us are constantly confronted with choices and decisions we cannot avoid. We have to make choices some of them big and some not so big. We sit in front of computer screen and we have to choose whether or not to click on that site that in the end just makes us more lonely. The mail comes and there is one more appeal from a charity. We have to choose whether to toss it or be just a little more generous. A doctor tells a couple that the child they have been waiting for has something wrong, and it’s time for a choice, the easy way or the right way? 

What we learn from Jesus today is that when it’s time for a choice the easy way may not be the best way according to God’s will. What we learn from Jesus today is that when it is time for choices big and small, prayer is the way to move forward.

For Jesus that day, mindful that going on to Jerusalem was going mean a lot of suffering and even his death, thoughts of Moses and Elijah came to him with an assurance that passing over, an exodus, made with trust in God would ultimately set him free and lead to the victory of his mission. These three apostles are the same three that will be invited to the Garden of Olives when the suffering begins. By sharing this time of prayer with them, Jesus prepares them for what it is they see that night in Jerusalem.

This then is the lesson of the Second Sunday of Lent as it seeks to bring about our conversion: We must change our ways and make choices. Often not making a choice becomes one and it is usually the wrong one. Disciples of Jesus can never think that fidelity, commitment, and perseverance will be possible without a great struggle. Love is never possible without suffering and sacrifice, and that is a choice otherwise you’re just a victim.

Moving into the second week of Lent, we probably ought to start seeing things, not things that are not there, but things that actually can be if we make the choice to go all the way even to Jerusalem with Jesus Christ. What we will soon see there is an empty tomb. Some may think we are just seeing things, but the eyes faith not it to be true.