December 11, 2011 at Saint Mark Catholic Church in Norman, OK

Isaiah 61: 1-2,10-11 + Psalm is from Luke 1:46-50 + 1 Thessalonians 5: 16-24 + John 1: 6-8, 19-28

For a long time I have thought that this incident in John’s Gospel was about John and some curious Pharisees, Priests, and Levites, but I have learned to think otherwise. John’s Gospel more than the other three is certainly no history. By the time this Gospel was put together, the other three were already in wide circulation with their bits and pieces and fragments of history, sayings, and miracle stories. John is a Gospel for today and everyday. What happens in John’s Gospel is still happening: the Word is becoming flesh, the light of the world is still among us, and there are those who testify to the light. Among them are the catechmens and candidates who have seen the light of faith and draw near to it sometimes to the shame of those of us who take it all for granted, and are so inconsistent and shallow in the witness of our lives and so shallow.

One sentence in this passage today leaps off the page and into our face with a challenge that is both intimidating and troubling. “…there is one among you whom you do not recognize, the one who is coming after me, whose sandal strap I am not worthy to untie.”  There is one among you whom you do not recognize! This Gospel is address to us. This Gospel is proclaimed today as it has been for generations for the sake of asking us and insisting that we look around and realize that we have not yet recognized the one among us! When we do, things are going to be different.

Christ Jesus, the anointed one is still among us, and John calls us to pay attention, to look around, to live with the understanding and the belief that Christ is among us, and perhaps to confess that we have not always recongnized that sacred presence. If this is true and if this Gospel shapes our belief, then our behaviors and attitudes toward one another can bear some scrutiny, and our easy dismissal of others, our disinterest in their plight, their needs and wants, even their human dignity betrays that fact that Christ goes unrecognized, and therefore what he brings and what his presence provides is incomplete.

This is a real issue here. Understanding this Gospel, getting deeper into these verses might raise some issues when it comes to our thinkng and behavior with regard to immigration, to those who live on welfare, to those of different ethnic origins, color, or religion. There is one among you whom  you do nor recognize! If this is so, we need to be careful. We need to be watchful, attenetive, and more open to how Christ presents himself to us. That one among us we don’t like, refuse to forgive, hold in contempt, refuse to acknowledge or take seriously may be the one! If we do not recongnize him, we might need to be a little more careful about how we treat everyone lest in our failure to recognize the ONE AMONG US and end up letting the one starve, or be deported, or go homeless and live with no jobless benefits just because we don’t think they deserve it.

Our preparation for Christmas might be a lot more well done if we ponder these words a bit carefully, for they Gospel words, they are God’s word spoken again today. “There is one among you whom you do not recognize.”

Let me tell you simple little story about a monastery that had falled on hard times. The monks did not talk with one another. No new young people were among them, and people had stopped coming to them for spiritual solace and direction. In the woods surrounding the moastery lived a rabbi in a small hut. On occasion the monks would see him walking in the woods as though he were in a trance, and they would say to each other: “The rabbi walks in the woods.”

The abbot of the monastery had done everything he could think of to improve the spirit in the monastery, but nothing made a difference. One day he saw the rabbi walking in the woods, so he decided to ask his advise. He alked up behind the rabbi. The rabbi turned, and when the abbot adn the rabbi faced one another, both began to weep. The sorrow of the situation affeect them both deeply. The abbot knew he did not have to explain the decline of the monastery, so he simply asked, “Can you give me some direction so the monastery will thrive again?”

The rabbi said: “One of you is the messiah.” Then he turned and continued his walk in the woods. The Abbot returned to the monastery. The monks had seen him talking with the rabbi, and they asked, “What did the rabbi say?” “”One of us is the Messiah”, the abbot said slowly. The monks began talking to one another. “One of us? Which one? It is Brother John or Andrew? Could it even be the Abbot?”

Slowly things began to change at the monastery. The monks began to look for the Missiah in each other and listen to each other’s words for the Messiah’s voice. Before long, younger monks joined, and people returned to the monastery for spirit comfort and direction.  End of the story.

Or is it?  What would it be like in this parish if we all began to wonder which one of us is the Messiah? If we began to really listen to each other listening for the voice of the Messiah? What would this city and this world be like, if we were waiting and looking and really expecting the Messiah to return, and allowed that John’s idea is right: there is one among us who is not recognized.

December 4, 2011 at Saint Mark Catholic Church in Norman, OK

Isaiah 40: 1-5, 9-11 + Psalm 85 + 2 Peter 3: 8-11 + Mark 1: 1-8

 It is very likely that you have never realized that John the Baptist’s promise of one who will baptize with the Spirit is never fulfulled in Mark’s Gospel. Jesus never baptizes anyone. Instead, Jesus is Baptized by John who announces a promise of another Baptism. This unfulfilled promise tells us something important about the gospels: the story of Jesus continues into the future. Mark wants us to understand that we are part of the Gospel story. We do not read this Gospel like a history book. We proclaim this Gospel because it is about all people and all times. This Gospel tells us about the beginning of something that has not ended, and it will not end until the “owner of the house returns”.

A baptism of repentence in water and the promise of a baptism in the Spirit, a Baptism of Fire, is what John puts before us at the beginning of Mark’s Gospel in the beginning of a new year of faith. More than repentence is expected. The Baptism of John is not enough. More is to come, and what is to come is not something that Jesus will do, but something we must do. Until we awaken the fire of the Spirit that is within us, we shall not be ready and prepared. This world needs more than repentance.

What we do at that font is awaken the potential, proclaim the promise, raise the hope, and acknowlege who we are and where we are going, but there is more to come. The very presence of Jesus, his word and his work brings the fire of a new Baptism, and lest we think in his absence that it’s all over, Pentecost affirms that there is more to come after the earthly time of Jesus.

Repentance turns us away from sin, and affirms a change of life. In our repentence we acknowlege our anger and hatred, our desire for revenge, our obsession with power, our manipulation of others, our greed and unwillingness to   really help others in need by changing oppressive systems that hold people in the bondage of poverty and ignorance. But acknowledging these things is not enough. That doesn’t change anything. It simply recognizes the mess in which we have been living.

The Spirit reveals that new world, that new heaven and the new earth. The Spirit into which we have been Baptized by Jesus Christ reveals what we have been waiting for and leads and teaches us how to get there. The dawning of the regin of God is not in the future for those who are truly Baptized in the Spirit it has come. It is at hand. 

This is not something done to us like the Baptism of John. This is a gift given to us; the promise of the Spirit that proposes a new way of living in this world: a way of life that revives and lifts up the weary and the worn, forgives, heals, and frees. This is a way of life we can choose, and when we do, watch out! The power of the Spirit will be unleashed upon this world.

What we proclaim in this place now and every time we assemble here is that the Master is coming and we must be ready. While we await the return of the “one who owns the house” as one of the parables puts it, we are busy about things that matter, about what we know he must find when he comes: peace, justice, forgiveness, joy, and charity. He does not make these things happen, we do. It is what we are about now since Jesus has shown us what to do and how to live. 

Our faith, this Advent, our very existence in this world is to transform this whole life into the Kingdom of God, into paradise, into the very holy garden where we live without shame, in obedience, in peace, and in the most intimate presence of God whose plan from the beginning was that we should have no fear, no need or want, and no death.

Our wilderness time is at an end. The voice in the wilderness has spoken the word of repentence. Now it is time to stir up and awaken that Spirit which Jesus has sent to those who are Baptized. In this news, we find reason to rejoice and be glad, for out time has come.

January 13, 2013 at Saint Mark Catholic Church in Norman, OK

Isaiah 42, 1-4,6-7 + Psalm 29 + Acts 10, 34-38 + Luke 3, 15-6, 21-22

The culture and the age in which this event takes place believed that a person’s identity depended completely upon the father. This even carried over into biology. They had no sense or knowledge of genes and chromosomes. They thought that at conception the an entire human being was passed from the father to the mother for her nurturing. In other words a tiny but complete human being smaller than the eye could see was passed from father to mother for a time of nurturing. Then at age twelve, the relationship with the mother was over, and the two men began their relationship. When you understand that cultural/historical fact, then the story of Jesus in the temple begins to make sense as a rite of passage, and this story takes on even greater significance, because here, the Father is claiming his son. By this time, Joseph is our of the picture. The work of the Holy Spirit at the conception of Jesus is now acknowledged and settled. This is the Father’s Son. Notice the words: “The Holy Spirit descended upon him in a bodily form.”  In other words, the Holy Spirit was already there, but now visible, active, and effective. Luke will make an issue of the Holy Spirit again and again throughout this Gospel.

We proclaim this Gospel to confirm who we are, and what has become of us because of our Baptism. We proclaim this gospel to one another because those who share faith and life with us are Spirit Born people made holy by the Spirit that has filled us and burns in our hearts when we are together and recognize the risen Lord at this table. We proclaim this gospel to acknowledge and remember that we are claimed by God as His own no less than God claimed Jesus Christ. For having been baptized in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, we have been, as it were, grafted into Christ and in communion with Him we are God’s own. Because of that, every time we acknowledge the presence of God and pray, we begin In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. When we do that in public, we are signaling to everyone who sees us that we are Baptized. We are God’s own children. We make that sign to draw brothers and sisters who are baptized into prayer with us as God’s claimed and chosen ones.

Young people, hear this. When others look at you and make so bold as to ask if you are saved, or suggest that because you are a Catholic you are not a Christian, get in their face with the Sign of the Cross. It is the fullest witness to your companionship with Christ and fellowship among the Baptized and Saved that God has called His own. If they who question you have any memory at all of their Baptism, they will recognize the sacred formula of that rite for they too were Baptized in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. That is how Jesus commanded us to embrace one another and gather God’s children together.

This world is full of lonely and sad people who do not know or feel claimed by God or by anyone, and this is the surest sign that the work of Jesus Christ is not yet complete. Who is to do it? Who is to claim them, to embrace them, to hold them except God’s own children. This in the end was exactly what Jesus came to do, and it is exactly why we have been privileged and called into this faith.

Once Jesus realized, knew, and understood who he was and what he was as God’s Son, he was free to act with courage, to stand up for the poor, to reach out to sinners, the unpopular, and heal those others feared. Belonging to God frees us all. Once we begin to exercise and live in that freedom, we will have no need to impress others or seek their approval. We will know our gifts and what a difference they will make when we use them for God’s purpose and God’s will.

So today is not just the Feast of the Baptism of the Lord. It is the Feast of our Baptism as well. It is the day when we remember again and remind one another that we are God’s chosen ones. We are claimed by our God. We have a purpose, a mission, and everything we need to accomplish that mission. We have a God/Father who will not ask more than he has given. We have a God/Father who will seek and find us even if we stray. We have same Spirit that moved Jesus Christ into his mission which began as soon as he stepped out of that water. We know how to do it by watching our brother Jesus Christ. We know what it will cost. We also know that nothing can stop that Spirit-driven mission, not even death itself for we are a people who live and pray, play and rejoice always In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, Amen.

May 5 2024

Acts of the Apostles 10: 25-26, 34-35, 44-48 + Psalm 98 + 1 John 4: 7-10 + John 15: 9-17

There is something very profound being proclaimed in this Gospel today. If we really understood it, it might take our breath away at the sheer intensity of what it means for our understanding of God and of the Incarnation. You can’t really have someone as a friend that you do not know, and we don’t make friends with someone for what we can get out them. We know what that’s like, being used.

I am beginning to believe that this failure to understand and know God is the cause of the kind of secular atheism that marks the age in which we live. There is something incompatible with the idea of God as a good and loving Lord and Master and our modern age idea that we are our own masters who work out our lives, choose our values, and what rules to live by. You can’t be that kind of person and be a “slave.” So, God is incompatible with that idea of liberty.

When Jesus says today “I shall not call you servants anymore”, it is God speaking through his Son who is not the same as God. Jesus is the Word Made Flesh. He is “God from God” as we say in the Creed. If we keep thinking that Jesus is the same as God, then forget about the Holy Trinity. 

The mission of Jesus Christ, the very wish of the Father was to restore what is lost through sin, intimate friendship with the Father. Remember how in Book of Genesis the writer describes the relationship between God and those first humans. It was friendship. They walked in the garden together. They talked. They listened. Those first humans before they sinned understood God because they knew they were made in God’s image, and they knew what that was because they were friends. God wanted that restored, and salvation history began.

God’s desire was never to makes us slaves, not even to make us happy, comfortable servants looked after by a kind master who provided anything needed. The aim of the Incarnation was to make us friends, to take us into divine friendship. Think how awesome that is! Yet to really get it, we have to clear about what friendship is.

In friendship there is a very unique kind of love that is not based upon need. Friendship love reaches out to another just for the sake of that other, not for any satisfaction, need, or pleasure. This is the kind of love that unites the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. It has been going on for all eternity because, God is friendship, perfect friendship. 

God does not need human beings to be God’s friends, but God chooses to love us with that true and real kind of friendship. God does not get something out of this relationship, and we ought not accept it with the expectation that we are going to get something either. If we say we love God for what we can get out of God, it isn’t love or friendship. At the same time to stop loving God because we didn’t get something is proof positive that there was no friendship love to begin with. We love God because God is God. God loves us because of who we are, not because of what we have done. That is why God keeps on loving us even when we are less than what God has created us to be. 

There is a wonderful kind of high nobility in being a friend, and never more so for us than being a friend of God. Being reminded of that today with this Gospel gives us every reason to rise up with joyful and grateful hearts knowing every minute of every day that we are loved just as we are and that we were loved even before we were born. 

April 28 2024 at St Elizabeth Seton and St Peter Churches in Naples, FL

Acts of the Apostles 9: 26-31 + Psalm 22 + 1 John 3: 18-24 + John 15: 1-8

Not long ago I was reading an article that stopped me at the end of a sentence. I had to put the book down for a while and think about what I just read. “The Catholic religion is a hard one to live in but an easy one to die in.” The writer went on to say that we have to be careful as a church not to turn that saying around. We can fail the Gospel by making the practice of our faith too easy, by sugar coating everything with talk of love, love, love like the Beatles’ song or a Hallmark greeting card. It is about love alright, but when you listen to today’s Gospel, you begin to see that it is about what we might call, “Tough Love.” 

That business about pruning a vine is tough. It’s real, and there is no way or reason to soften it up. Wine can mark an occasion one of great joy and celebration, and a true disciple of Jesus Christ becomes just that for others, a source of joy and celebration. But we cannot be that if we do not allow the vinedresser to prune us. Without being cut, without the hardship of sacrifice and service, without following the Way of the Cross in our lives it is likely that we will become spiritually unproductive, shallow, and just simply pious without any real passion.

When I was leaving the seminary at ordination time, my confessor and mentor for several years advised me to find someone to take his place who had suffered if I really wanted to grow in my faith and spirituality. I have learned the wisdom of that advise. There is just something about being knocked around, about falling down, or suffering some insult or injury that can make a person truly noble, wise, and holy. I think that is why so many of saints had periods of suffering and sadness. It’s not that holiness means being miserable and sad. Those kinds of people could never be a source of real joy and celebration. On the contrary, people who have suffered, who have known pain are really the ones who know and have something to celebrate.

Five weeks ago, we celebrated the Passion, Death, and Resurrection of Jesus Christ. It was not until he suffered surrendering his will to the Father’s Will, not until he died abandoned and in disgrace did he become for all of us a source of joy and celebration. Before that he was, to those around him, a wise rabbi who was condemned by the very ones he taught, healed, and wanted to lead to the Father. 

My friends, we follow one who called himself the “vine,” and was himself pruned by the vine grower. Our unity with Christ Jesus must lead us into the mystery of loving service, of sacrifice, and even into the mystery of some pain, suffering, and sadness. Without it, we will have no share in the Resurrection. When we finally surrender to the Father’s will as Jesus did the night before he died, the Father will be glorified, and then we shall know why we are here, not just in this church, but why we are here on this earth and in this life. Every now and then, it might be a good idea to ask that question and remember the answer: for the glory and the honor of God. This is a hard religion to live in, but an easy one to die in if we can just remember why.

April 21, 2024 10:00 a.m. Sunday at St. Elizabeth Seton

St Peter Churches in Naples, FL

Acts of the Apostles 4: 8-12 + Psalm 118 + 1 John 3: 1-12 + John 10: 11-18

Not often I stop and ask myself why I am doing something. That question came to me on Holy Saturday afternoon, twenty-two days ago. If you remember, it was an absolutely glorious day without a cloud in the sky. There was a very light breeze just enough to make the palm trees swish around with that sound I find rather pleasant. A flower bed needed to be dug up, there were dry clothes in the dryer and dirty dishes in the sink. I’m sitting at a desk with this Gospel text open wondering why I’m doing this, and I decided that I don’t ask that question often enough. It must be the same for you. I don’t think we ever ask that question often enough. If we did, I suspect we might do a few things differently or maybe not all.

In that reading we just heard from Act of the Apostles, Peter answers the question about why he is doing something, and he learned the answer from the man who called him away from fishing for fish. He did that for pay. With this Gospel today, Jesus contrasts a good shepherd with one who works for pay rather than for love of the sheep. That’s not necessarily bad except that the one who works for pay may not be much good if danger comes along. He may well be more interested in taking care of “number one” than any of those sheep that probably belong to someone else.

This weekend an invitation is extended to us all suggesting that we give some thought to why we do things: for that matter, why we do anything. Why we are here? first of all, why we use the time we have left in this life the way we do.? There is an attitude that all of us, especially those of us retired, might be find challenging by what we hear today. That attitude is about “deserving.” I can’t count the times I have heard people say to me, “Oh Father, after more than 55 years, you deserve your rest.” 

My reflection on this Gospel lately is that I’ll have eternity for that rest, which seems like a very long time. Right now, the one who is deserving is God, not me or you. What we deserve is sometimes frightening if I think about it seriously. What God deserves is our attention not just in this church. What God deserves is way more than most of us have been willing to provide.

The shepherd working for pay is concerned about what he’s going to get out of it. The shepherd who works for love gets nothing but love in return which is far more valuable. When we start deciding what to do in this life and the question of what we are going to get out of it comes along, it’s time to ask that question, Why?” with God in mind. It might be time to stand alongside Peter and search our hearts until we can explain why it is that we do what we do. 

We can believe a lot about Jesus, but the real invitation and real choice we have is to believe in him, through him and with him which will surely lead us to become identified with him by loving whom he loves and allowing him to work through us. The Jesuit-trained priests who taught me in High School, and many of the Sisters before them always insisted that the letters: AMDG be written at the top of my assignments. It was then, and still is, a very good reason for doing something: For the Honor and Glory of God. If what I’m doing does not somehow very clearly glorify God, I need to stop doing it and do something else that will.

April 14, 2024 at Saint Peter and Saint William Churches in Naples, FL

Acts of the Apostles 3: 13-5, 17-19 + Psalm 4 + 1 John 2: 1-5 + Luke 24: 35-48

The risen Christ is among us here gathered in his name and proclaiming the Word of God in this assembly This gives voice to that presence. He asks us a question, not just those disciples in the past. He also gives us a command just as he did those other disciples.

“Why are you troubled? Why do questions arise in your hearts?” he asks us. At the time for those disciples it may have seemed like a very silly question. Why in the world would they not be troubled and filled with questions when the very person who had lifted their hopes, shown them great signs and wonders, had been brutally killed and buried was now suddenly in their midst? They were not imagining this. He was real. The scars of his torture and death were visible. He ate with them. They are not imagining things.

Christ stood there among them facing those who abandoned him, and I believe he stood there with a smile on his face and his arms outstretched. His wounds were on full display making it perfectly clear that no evil, no suffering, no disaster can overpower the goodness of God. It took them a long time to understand that. They were slow, and so are we. Too many are still troubled, and asking the wrong question. We hear it all the time: “Why doesn’t God do something?” This Gospel rephrases the question: “Why don’t you do something?” 

When they finally got it right through the help of the Holy Spirit, those disciples did do something, and we are here as a people of hope, faith, and charity because they did do something.

Then comes a command to take on a new vision of life, to believe and act with the sure knowledge that love is the only lasting power, that love disturbs the violent more than any great weapon. When we really believe that the only way to peace is loving forgiveness, there will be peace. If we could get that right there would never be another violent act of revenge like we see today in Gaza or the Ukraine. 

It was out of ignorance that Jesus Christ was put to death. He said so himself at the time: “They know not what they do” asking for their forgiveness. We are not ignorant. We do know what we are doing, and what we fail to do. During these fifty days leading to our Pentecost we would do well and pass these days profitably with the hope and the prayer that we will finally understand and believe in the depths of our hearts what the cross reveals: that the violence, oppression, and hatred will fail every time an innocent person stands up in the face of it. Moving through life, we can either cling to a dismal and hopeless view of life and complain because God does not  fix things; or, like the disciples, we can allow ourselves to be confused enough for the Holy Spirit to open our minds to understand new ways. 

Acts 10: 34, 37-43 + Psalm 118 + 1 Corinthians 5: 6-8 + John 20: 1-9

April 8, 2012 at Saint Mark Catholic Church in Norman, OK

The world in which this Easter is celebrated has problems with resurrection. It has problems with anything transcendent: anything it can’t see, buy, control, or understand. This life is all there is. You only go around once. Grab all you can for the thrill of it. Enthralled and entertained by skills of indulgence talk of heaven and the suggestion that there is something beyond this life seems oddly out of place and to some inappropriate. We want to make good sense of our faith as Christians especially to those who think our beliefs are outdated. But our discourse and conversation is hardly ever about forgiveness, redemption, heaven and hell. If someone would ask us about our church or our faith, we might start talking about how friendly it is, how beautiful the church is, how wonderful the choir, or how big the gym and inclusive the programs might be from softball and soccer to quilting and healthy living.

To think, talk, and act this way leaves us on a collision course with what we are really doing in here in worship Sunday after Sunday. If we ever give serious thought to the reality we claim is taking place in this assembly around this altar, we might run for cover, or cover it up. There is something more astounding and profound happening here beyond warm fellowship. There is something more profound going on here than stirring music and crafted thought-provoking homilies. The act of our liturgy is more significant than this homily or their music. The act of our liturgy is more significant than this building, it’s style or decor, but that fact does not seem to be sinking in or widly believed for let something go wrong or something more interesting come along, leaves us to count the missing.

What we do here is about our salvation and our destiny or it is nothing it all. It is the pledge of eternal forgiveness. Communion is not mere bread for earthly bodies. Quite the contrary, it is nutrition for transformed bodies. It is what sustains pilgrims on their way out of and beyond this life. We eat this body of Christ who has died and risen so that we might die and rise.

We celebrate Easter with Eucharist because this is the promise of an eternal banquet. We celebrate Easter with Eucharist because on the night before He died he asked us to do this in memory of him. We celebrate Easter with Eucharist because he said: “Unless you eat flesh of the Son of Man and drink  his blood you shall not have life in you.” We celebrate Eucharist because every celebration of Eucharist is Easter for those who are celebrating and proclaiming the death of the Lord until he comes in glory.

We are a people who believe that there is more than meets the eye. There is more than the earth in all its might, more than our projects and exploits in all their splendor, and therefore, there is more to us than what we can buy and consume just as there is more on this altar than bread and wine. There is more to that empty tomb than met the eye of those who looked into it. They found nothing. Not only did they fail to find the Body of Christ, they did not find death either which is what they expected. So that discovery was a surprise; it did not fit in to their expectations and it changed everything. That empty tomb was more empty of death than it was of Christ. What they failed to find was death in a tomb. It isn’t there anymore.

There is a little detail in John’s gospel that feeds our imagination and faith. It is the matter of those folded up cloths. Unlike Lazarus, who comes forth from his tomb wrapped in burial cloths that needed to be untied so he could go free, the burial cloths of Jesus are left behind. They are folded up neatly, not ripped and left in haste by anyone who might take the body. Jesus comes forth from that tomb in a totally new kind of life, leaving behind the rags of his old life.

That woman, Mary Magdalene and Peter are slow to believe. The other disciple, the one Jesus loved the Gospel says, saw and believed. What did he see, or what does “seeing” really mean? The other disciple with Peter was a man of love which always allows us to see what others do not see. True Resurrection faith does not arise from seeing and believing in an empty tomb but from meeting God in the Scriptures and knowing that God is love. As long as there is love, there will be life. As long as there is love, there will be forgiveness. Those who love Jesus Christ are drawn to mourn his death, only to learn that he lives with them in a way that trascends their hopes because there is always more than meets the eye. There is more to us all than what others can see. Say “Amen” to that someone!

This is the day the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad!

April 7, 2024 at St Peter, St William, St Agnes Churches in Naples, FL

Acts 4: 32-35 + Psalm 118 + 1 John 5: 1-6 + John 20: 19-31

We had the privilege of welcoming guests here last Sunday, and just as we did at home, or perhaps still do, we moved over and squeezed a little closer together. Most of those guests are gone now back to whatever it is they do while we are here, and we have to hope that somehow what they experienced here will make them want to return because we need them.

Easter is not just about what happened to Jesus. It is about what is happening to us because of it. In fact, what happened to Jesus is meaningless if nothing happens to us. Easter is a powerful reminder that our short lives here are a time of preparation for eternity not for anything else. We are not here to keep the economy going by our shopping. We are not here to consume all we can get our hands on out of this earth’s resources leaving the next generation with debt, mountains of trash, and dirty air. Easter is about us and about what has happened to us because of what has happened to Jesus Christ.

Consequently, Easter is more than a Sunday in the spring. It is a lift-style and a life-long commitment to be, maintain, and preserve the presence of Christ in this world. The Mercy of God which we remember today is not just for us to receive. It is an undeserved gift to be passed on to anyone else who may not deserve it either. The way that underserved gift is passed on is through forgiveness which is the only way we will ever possibly know and experience the peace that the risen Christ gives us. There is no peace gained from war, conquest, or some imagined victory. All that can do is create resentment which eventually boils up again destroying the illusion of peace. Merciful forgiveness is the only path to peace, and that is exactly what John’s Gospel reveals to us today.

Jesus who had been abandoned, denied, misunderstood, and left to die alone among thieves with a crowd mocking him came to them, stood in their midst, and in one remarkable act of mercy forgiving them and leaving them his peace and an assures them of his love.  Not only that, he comes again for a late-comer who is not too sure and too solid in his faith.

My friends, Easter means that by the power of Christ even our small and imperfect lives have a share in the glory of God’s redeeming work in human history. We celebrate that today in Word, in Song, and in Ritual, and then by our lives, the mercy we find here and the mercy we share, will bring joyful hope to those who like Thomas are absent and weak in faith. There only hope is those of us in this church, and if there is real mercy, they will not be disappointed.

March 31, 2024 at St Peter & St William Churches in Naples, FL

Acts of the Apostles 10: 34, 37-43 + Psalm 118 + Colossians 3: 1-4 + John 20, 1-9

It is easy to listen to John’s resurrection story and be focused on what happened to Jesus. Our imaginations fueled by artists and poets can draw a lot of hope and great deal of joy from a story that reminds us so graphically that love and goodness will always triumph in the end. At the same time, it is a little more challenging to focus on what happened to the disciples, which might lead us to think about what it means for us.

John begins today’s Gospel as the very beginning of creation: “On the first day of the week” – “while it was still dark” he goes on. Someone faces the darkness and the chaos, sadness and grief with great courage. She is willing to confront these threats and step into that darkness. The tomb has been disturbed because the realm of death has been disrupted, and it did not look like a grave robbery. The burial cloths were all neatly folded up. There is something else going on here. This death was nothing like death as they understood it to be. 

Over and over again, the Gospel writers keep telling us that they did not understand. Yet, they believed. Here is where we begin to confront what the Resurrection means for us. Like those disciples, the Resurrection is the beginning of a pilgrimage that moves us little by little not only into believing, but to understanding better what this means for our lives right now. Jesus comes and says to them, “Peace. Everything is OK.” The message is that no matter what happens to us, the Father will not let defeat and death be the end.

The pilgrimage that begins on Easter leads to Pentecost, not to place but into the very life of God and God’s Holy Spirit where we shall begin to understand as well as believe that we are the very presence of the risen Christ in this world. In John’s Gospel, we do not have to wait fifty days for Pentecost. The Spirit given on Easter transforms us into that presence as one Body in Christ and with the gift of understanding, we have the power to forgive which is the very thing that leads to peace: forgiveness. Without it, there will never be peace.

In just a moment, in the breaking of bread we must acknowledge the presence of the risen Christ who is the source of our hope. We ask for peace. We accept his mission. We pray to be open to the Spirit and all that Spirit may ask of us in this new creation. Part of being a disciple of Jesus Christ is living with this mystery, living with things we do not understand, yet living with hope.

Peace be with you, my dear friends. Peace be with you who doubt, wonder, wait. You are in good company with the disciples of Jesus Christ keep moving on the journey toward understanding.