2 Corinthians 5, 6-8 + Mark 5, 21-43

 If we understand the words of this Gospel correctly, then we can say with all the confidence with which Jesus spoke: “Max is not dead. He is asleep.” What lies before us in this holy place is not Max. What we have placed before this altar where Max was fed on the Body and Blood of Christ is not Max. It is the remains of what was given to Max and what Max used so well to live his life and grow to be a man. Each of us has a personal sorrow on our hearts this week after the news that brings us here together. There is a mother’s sorrow beyond measure. There is the sorrow of a father, grandparents, and the grief and pain of brothers left alone now so early in life. On my own part there is sadness that I never got see or know Max as an adult. My memories of Max Hollman are of a Catholic Grade School boy who had more than his share of energy, enthusiasm, and interest in things beyond what was being taught in the school. To make sure you get my point, I will say it more simply. He, more so than his brother Michael, required a little more direction and supervision than most of the other children. Max had trouble with the uniform and all that it suggested. The shirt tail was only invisible when I was in sight. On the days when the tie was required, it was either too big or just too much to manage. My memory is that mother didn’t help a lot. Perhaps there is something in their Irish blood or some genetic compound that made it so, but the encounters we had were always good, ended with a laugh, a roll of the eyes, and a shrug. There was always a next time.

The real Max is now in the presence of God. He has completed this part of his life as it was imagined in the mind of the one who called him to life in the first place. The one who speaks with power and authority in this Gospel has three things to say which we much hear and remember today. These people in the gospel do not believe. “Don’t bother. It’s too late”, they say as others laugh at Jesus. Their laughter reveals a great deal about these people. They are pragmatic, faithless, and therefore hopeless. They know nothing of this man Jairius has summoned, and they are rude enough to laugh. Mark does not tell us what happened to them when those amazed came out; but we can only imagine, but you can be sure they stopped laughing.

In the face of their laughter and hopelessness, Mark gives us four sayings to reflect upon today in the face of what looks like death.

“Do not fear, only believe.”

Faith and fear are always at odds with one another. Where ever fear has taken root, hopelessness has control. Time and time again all through the New Testament, the message first spoken by an angel is repeated: “Fear not.” Where ever faith has taken root rather than fear, the power of God will be known. There is no room for fear in the heart of a believer. They live every day filled with hope.

Then Jesus says:

She is not dead, she is asleep.

To the faithful these are words of comfort and hope. To the fear filled, they might be a cause for laughter, because in their helplessness, they think there is no hope.

Then to the sleeping one he says:

“Talith cum”, which means, get up. Words he says to the lame, to the son of a widow, to the child of a Roman Centurion, and words we can all hope to hear whenever we are down.

Finally, he says:

“Give her something to eat.” In a final gesture of love he restores her to parents whose love and care have fed and nurtured her to that day. It does not take much imagination to think of how they will “feed” her with this story bringing her deeper into faith and further from fear through the healing touch of the one who wants to feed us all just as well feed on this story today to calm our fears.

The risen Christ still speaks those words to us who gather in faith rather than fear today. He speaks them to all of you who are, not were, friends of Max. He speaks them to you, Jeannie and Michael, Nick and Tom. Faith not fear is what you must have today. Max is not dead. He sleeps now. The best thing we can say to him springs from our faith. Not “good bye”; but “See you in the morning”; that morning when we shall all rise again. Having been fed on the Body and Blood of Christ, Max does not die because of a promise made to all who share the food of this table. It is our hope that in the sleep of last Saturday night, Max awakened to the voice of Christ that said to him: “Talitha Cum. Get up.” With that, I believe, that Max did get up and left behind everything that ever held him down. I also believe that Christ says that to us today. “Get up from grief.” “Get up from sadness.” “Get up from any fear or unbelief that keeps you from the joy that hope can bring.”

Finally, as he turned the attention of that crowd and that family to food, he does so today. He gives something to eat and through his church he spreads this table at which we share the Bread of Life and the Cup of Salvation. Do not fear. Max is asleep he is not dead. Get up from your fear and your sorrow. There is something to eat that gives us hope and life everlasting.

Saint James the Greater Catholic Church l Oklahoma City, OK

1 Samuel 16, 1, 6-7 + Psalm 23 + Ephesians 5, 8-14 + John 9, 1-41

There is a story told about an Indian peasant who had a lifelong passion to visit Bombay. He talked about going there so often that his friends and neighbors decided to take up a collection and pay for the trip. When it was time for his departure the whole community gathered at the edge of town to wish him well. He thanked everyone and started walking down the road to Bombay to fulfill his dream. To everyone’s surprise, he returned much earlier than expected. When they asked him if something had happened to keep him from reaching the city, he answered, “Nothing,” assuring them that the trip had gone well and he had seen Bombay. When someone asked him what Bombay was like, he responded, “It’s quite a sight. About a foot and half high, two feet long, green with yellow letters spelling out B-O-M-B-A Y.” The poor man had gone no further than the sign marking the city limits, read it and returned to his village, content that his lifelong dream had been fulfilled.

Sadly that story describes too many of us who read or hear miracle stories in John’s Gospel without realizing that they point to something else. If we only pay attention to the signs without wondering what John is trying to say to us, we are imitating the peasant. There is always something beyond the sign. So we have to go beyond the sign, push deeper into the story or we will miss the opportunity offered to us every time we read and hear this living and life-giving Word of God. This is no story book. This is revelation. It is alive. This is not history or a book of old tales about what Jesus did way back when. These words speak of what is happening now in this place and of what is happening to you and me. We are always in these stories.

So look at what happens here. We can read a familiar long story about some man born blind and the big controversy that erupts with Pharisees and the man’s parents, and then we can go home and settle down into the usual Sunday afternoon routine. If so, we are like the Indian peasant who thinks he has seen Bombay by reading a sign. There is another option for people of faith, and that option is what I want to propose to you now and will explore with you three evenings this week. There is something more here than an old story told for two thousand years.

If we think that this story is about a miracle and what wonders Jesus worked with a man born blind, we’ve stopped at the sign, and I say to you, “Wait. Don’t turn around and go home.” This not a story told to impress us with the power of Jesus Christ. This is a story told about people who say they see and people who do not see. It is a story told about faith and about light, reminding us that we do not see anything without light.

John’s Gospel is very different from the three earlier Gospels. They all insist that faith is necessary for miracles to happen. When confronted with a lack of faith Jesus is unable to do anything. For John it is just the opposite. He presumes that faith comes after the miracle, not before. It starts early in his Gospel with the very first sign at Cana. Only after he changes water into wine do the disciples begin to believe in him. Jesus does not demand faith first in John’s Gospel. Look at this story. The blind man is just minding his own business when Jesus walks by, spits on mud, puts it on his eyes and sends him off to wash. The blind man never called out to him. He didn’t even know who it was. After all, he was blind! His faith in Jesus is a gradual process, and not an easy one. It comes because he is willing to go beyond the sign. You can see the development in the story. John never uses the word “miracle.” He calls these events: “Signs.” A “sign” is a thing showing that something else exists. It always points to something else.

So when we look at this sign, we can just get on with the weekend or we go beyond it looking for something else. If you want to look for something else, I propose you look at what is said more than what happens, and you look at the response of the people to the sign that is before them. The sign begins with a proclamation from Jesus that reveals what this sign points to: that God’s works are to be seen in people coming to faith like this blind man, and that Jesus Christ is the light of the world. Then if we look at the response of the people in this story, we can begin to question our own response to this sign. There are Pharisees who think they see everything and know everything, but they cannot see God working right in front of them because they did not heal him. They refuse to share the joy and the faith of this man who is himself a sign of something else: a sign of what happens when you listen to Jesus Christ and do what he asks even if it makes no sense. “Go wash in the pool of Siloam,” says Jesus. Why would he do that, and how is going to get there. But he does it. There are his parents, so afraid of the Pharisees, so afraid of what people might say about them or what might happen if they acknowledge the sign and what it means. They are completely left out in the dark. They will go no further than: “All we know is that he could not see, and now he sees.” Well, they’re stuck and will never see what the sign means.

So, here we are at the beginning of a Lenten Mission and most of the way through Lent. I’m not going to tell you what to do the rest of the week or the rest of Lent. I’m not going to tell you what the sign means either. I want simply want to point to the sign. You can stop in front of the sign, or you can go on beyond. You have faith like the blind man; a faith that is moving along, growing stronger, and more refined. You also have the light of Christ by which you can see where you are, and where you want to go. The works of God are made visible through our works, so we might want to pay attention to what our works look like and whether our works are a sign that might tempt people to go further. The words of Jesus Christ at the very beginning of this story are words for our lips: “We must do the deeds of him who sent me while it is day. The night comes on when no one can work. While I am in the world I am the light of the world.”

(The people are invited to repeat these words in conclusion.)

SAINT JOSEPH OLD CATHEDRAL, OKLAHOMA CITY, OK

Exodus 17, 3-7 + Psalm 95 + Romans 5, 1-2, 5-8 + John 4, 5-42

John says that Jesus “had to pass” through Samaria to get from Judea to Galilee because something was going on with baptisms by his disciples in Galilee. There was probably a little competition between disciples of John and disciples of Jesus over who could baptize the most. At any rate, Jesus is headed to Galilee which is north of Judea with Samaria in between. It was probably the shortest way and may have had the best road. It would be like going to Stillwater up I-35 meaning you would have to pass through Logan County. However, there was hostility between Samaritans and Jews, and unless you were in a big hurry, it would be better to go another way. It was possible to go a little to east and up the Jordan River through Perea and the region of the Decapolis. Bethany was in Perea and well known to Jesus as well as the region of the Decapolis which we know he has visited before. He knew the way. So, this suggestion that he “had to” go through Samaria does not mean it was the only way. He went there for another reason, not because he had to get away from the Pharisees in Judea and go to Galilee to straighten out those disciples; but because he had to make an offer to a representative of marginalized people. “If you only knew the gift of God” he thinks to himself, and off he goes

I think that this awareness is important for reflecting upon these verses. He did not go there to pick a fight or because he was in a hurry. He went there to be present to and reveal himself to outsiders, enemies of the Jews, and even more so, to a woman, an unaccompanied woman whose reputation was scandalous. We know all of that even before the conversation begins, and knowing this then gives us more to reflect upon than simply the words of the text.

After years of living with this story and after more than forty-five years of reflecting upon it in church, I see something new this year. It occurs to me that there are three encounters with Jesus in this story: a private one with the woman at the well, another with the disciples who return with the groceries, and a third encounter when the woman comes back with a crowd of folks. Look at the difference between what each group brings!

The first encounter is a deeply personal one that tells a conversion story in which this woman moves from hostility to curiosity and on to faith. Her conversion moves along through her conversation with Christ who unconditionally accepts her without any judgment about her past. He treats her with respect. She has some dignity in his sight, and she listens. What seems to matter is the present moment when two enemies face one another, and when a sinner meets the savior. It is uncomplicated and grace filled. Never mind the past. Never mind the fact that Jews and Samaritans are hostile over religious and political issues. What matters is that they speak, they listen, they care not about ideologies, but about one another. One is thirsty. One has a bucket, but she is thirsty too, but not for water. They both end up satisfied. The Pharisees have rejected Jesus. The Samaritans have accepted him. She has longed for a Messiah and thirsted for dignity and man who would stay with her. They both end up fulfilled.

Then comes the second encounter which I think stands in sharp contrast to the third. The disciples come to Jesus full of their opinions and judgments about Jesus who does not seem, in their opinion, to know what he’s doing and who he has been talking with. They bring groceries and suggest that he eat something they have brought. He refuses. In contrast to them comes a crowd led by the woman who said: “Come and see a man who told me everything I have ever done.” The disciples return with groceries. The woman returns with a crowd of people who left the city to see him. What I find amazing is that this Samaritan woman is a more successful evangelist than these disciples, and we ought to wonder how it is so. Perhaps John’s complex stories are open to a variety of interpretation and layers of meaning. Each one of them is a capsule of the whole Gospel. John is a master of symbolism and detail. This happens at noon. Other things happen at noon as well in the Gospel, and we can connect the dots. Water opens up any number of avenues to explore more of this text. The well itself is very symbolic, and that well is historically important. He says: “Give me a drink.” and he will say that again on a cross. John is doing more here at this point of his Gospel than continuing to reveal the divine plan for salvation in his dramatic and complex story.

As we, the church, listen again to these verses at an age in history when we are being led into a time of new evangelization, there is no excuse for failing to see and learn something about evangelization in these verses. Here she is, both a convert and an evangelist. We can learn from her. We can see again the power unleashed in us when we know that in spite of all we have ever done, God loves, respects, and treats us with dignity. We can see again how once we listen to Christ, to the Word of God, and come from that conversation into a trusting relationship with Christ nothing can stop us from spreading the news and offering to share that gift of faith we sometimes do not know is there. Then, look at the way she awakens the others to the gift. What a wonderful model of evangelization! Once she asks about the Messiah and Jesus replies: “I am he,” her faith comes to fullness. All that is left is for her to become an apostle to her people. She leaves the water jar. That is a startling detail. Water jars are important. That jar is what sustained her in the past. Her presence among her people is all it takes. Her words are not particularly persuasive or for that matter very important, just her presence. You can sense the joy in her, the freedom she has found, and the desire that comes out with the words: “Come and See.” What they first see is her joy, and instead of telling them what to believe or how to behave, she simply asks a question, and they leave their town and everything it means. There is John’s lesson to a church that is awakening to the spirit of evangelization. It is a spirit of joy and of freedom, and it comes from recognizing the gift of faith that we have.

Genesis 12, 1-4 + Psalm 33 + 2 Timothy 1, 8-10 + Matthew 17, 1-9

Fear and Shame are probably the biggest things that hold us back from becoming all that God would have us to be. This Holy Season invites us to find relief in the mercy of God. It reminds us week after week of the power of love and forgiveness, and of God’s compassion and mercy that we find revealed in the work of his beloved Son. While scholars debate over whether this text is preparing the Apostles for the future or a present revelation about the identity of Jesus we are left with the words spoken so simply and so directly. While Peter babbles on about tents which would suggest that he really does not understand what is going on, another voice speaks up insisting that we listen to this favored and beloved Son who then says, “Get up. Do not be afraid.” These are words he will say again and again to the daughter of a Roman centurion, to Peter’s mother-in-law, to the son a widow being carried to his grave, and one day to his friend Lazarus. “Get up. Do not be afraid.”  I suspect that these are words he will hear spoken to him in his own grave. “Get up. Do not be afraid.”

“Listen” says that voice to anyone who is down, fearful, and ashamed. “Listen.”

Fear comes in the absence of love; shame in the absence of hope. Neither fear nor shame belong any who listen to the Word of God. Love and Hope are the very core of what is being revealed in the Word made flesh. In some way, every story, every event, every parable and incident in the Gospels is a challenge to fear and to shame badly needed in the times in which we live. It probably has always been so, but certainly in these times, fear is the tool for manipulating public opinion and human thinking. If you frighten people enough, you get anything you want. Fear has been used for a long time to keep people in bondage. Fear of beatings and punishment, fear of being left alone and helpless, fear of an unknown future keeps people trapped for generations when all the while, the truth, the gospel, is proclaimed to set us free.

Shame does the same thing. It robs us of hope. Shame is a secret hidden thing that traps us in hopelessness and drives us away from one another. It wears away trust, isolates us while it eats away at self-respect leading to deep sadness and a kind of misery that is desperate and lonely.

Into shame and into fear steps this beloved Son to reveal a God who says to shame and fear filled people, “Get up. There is nothing to fear.” What is revealed to those apostles is the mercy of God and the power of love. It is too good to be true, but it is. That transfiguration reveals what can happen when we listen, and what God’s love can do. Where there is love and hope, fear and shame have no place. That transfiguration is a sign of our call from fear to love, from doubt to faith, from shame to mercy and hope. The old order in Moses and Elijah yields to Jesus. Something new has come. Something new is to be discovered in us and for us when we listen. Peter is right, it is good for us to be here.
We need to be here and face our fears and our shame. We need to let the hand of Christ Jesus touch us and call us to rise. For us who share this life-giving and beautiful faith; for those of us who express and live that faith in our Catholic tradition, this season above all others comes with an opportunity to push back our fears, and name our shame; to be touched by the hand of reconciliation and mercy, listen to the life-giving prayer that says: “Through the ministry of the church, may God give you pardon and peace, and I absolve you from all your sins, In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.

The truth of God’s mercy and God’s love is known best by those who need it, hunger for it, and trust in the transforming power of God’s presence in Jesus Christ by the Spirit active and at work in the risen Christ living in us a Church. It is a good week, my friends. It is a good week for transfiguration, a good season to be transfigured, a good time to let our faces shine like the sun with the joy and the peace that comes from knowing, believing, and living because we are loved by God.

Genesis 2, 7-9; 3, 1-7 + Psalm 51 + Romans 5, 12-19 + Matthew 4, 1-11

It is all about listening and who you listen to. Paul is the clue to this today as he pulls the Genesis and Matthew texts together speaking to the Romans about obedience. That word itself describes the ability to listen to what is said. I guess the root of the problem is that we don’t like to listen, we just like to talk. Too many of us like the sound of our own voices, which is a dangerous thing for someone to say who is preaching, but it is the truth! If I had not spent more time listening to the Word of God than I am speaking right now, I ought to sit down and be quiet. Listening is the issue which is why I think St John begins his Gospel with that deeply theological reflection on the “Word” made flesh. The Incarnation is about God speaking, and so is creation. Remember how God creates in Genesis. It says: “God said: Let there be Light.” “Let there be dry land.” It’s always about speaking on God’s part, but for anything to happen, there must be listening which is the obedience.

It occurs to me that the trouble for Adam and Eve is rooted in their listening habits. The Genesis story tells us that God was with them and they could walk and talk with God in this “garden.” But instead of a conversation with God, they talk with a serpent and with one another failing to “listen” to God: disobedience! We see the same thing unfolding with the Israelites in the desert. When Moses listens to God, and the People of Israel listen to Moses they make progress. When they listen to each other mumbling and grumbling, when they listen to Aaron (who never listens to God) there is trouble. We all have our own stories about that when it comes to listening to Mom and Dad. I can still hear their voices in my memory. “Listen to me!” was their threatening demand, and when I did, I was safe!

Jesus listens to the Father. He is attentive to the Father’s will. Jesus is “obedient” because he has listened to what God asks of him; and even though it takes him to Jerusalem and to Calvary, it also takes him to his resurrection. In my imagination when the noise of crowd at the crucifixion is gone, and the wailing of the saddened mourners was quieted, Jesus listened once more to his Father who said: “Arise.”

Now the Forty Days we have begun in this season should really be about getting quiet again so that we can hear God’s voice, listen, and be obedient. The story of Jesus in the desert is so much like the story of Adam and Eve who were talking instead of listening; listening to something created instead of the creator. In Matthew’s Gospel today, notice how the Adam and Eve story gets retold with different consequence. Jesus is tempted, but instead of listening to the tempter, Jesus listens and is obedient to the Word of God in the sacred scriptures which he quotes to the tempter. This is a model for these forty days: listening to the Word of God that means being obedient to the God’s Word.

In these times of secularism and individualism, some would prefer to take a narrow understanding of “obedience” suggesting that it is some kind of submissive behavior unworthy of truly independent free people; but that strikes me as coming out of the mind of an adolescent who has not yet gotten the priorities of life together leaving them to rebel and pretend that they are really free to do what they want all the time. Never mind what consequence their decisions in that mind-set might have upon others.

Those who have finally grown up and grown into their faith have their priorities set, and they have decided that God comes first because they have discovered that they cannot serve both God and this world. One or the other always has first place. So, they feel nothing but freedom and peace from becoming obedient, which simply means they listen to God before anyone else. The same kind of freedom and peace that guided the life, the decisions, and the relationships for Jesus of Nazareth is what we seek in this season, and it is what will lead us to one day hear God say: “Arise.”

Genesis 2, 7-9; 3, 1-7 + Psalm 51 + Romans 5, 12-19 + Matthew 4, 1-11

The Carmelite Sisters of Villa Theresa Oklahoma City, OK

It comes with a price, these ashes. Something had to die and be burned. There was a flame, but it is gone now and all we have are these ashes. The season we begin today in some ways is really about that flame. On the night of Easter’s Great Vigil, there will be fire again, and we shall take that flame into the darkness where it will light up our faces and hopefully light up our hearts and any part of us that has gone dark and lost the light and the flame of faith. But for now it is ashes, all that is left of that flame brought to us on the day of our Baptism. For now we claim the fact that the flame is gone and must be restored. We accept the ashes because they are all that is left. As the day goes by they will fall away, perhaps to soil the papers on our desk, our habit, or shirt. For a while people we glance at them and later as they fade, probably no one will notice. The sad thing is that they will fade away, and fearfully as they do so will our resolve and commitment.

However, this cannot be so. The season we begin today, a season of conversion and repentance, of prayer and fasting more deeply than before, is our time to rekindle the flame, the fervor, and the fire of our faith. These 40 days are about much more than ashes. They are about that light— and about rediscovering something we may have too easily forgotten. In spite of sin and indifference, in spite of living in a world crowded by cynicism and doubt, we are still what our baptism proclaimed us to be. We are “children of the light.” And the candle still burns to reflect off the smile of our faces and the joy in our eyes.

So today, my dear sisters, you can remember that you are dust, but you may not return to the dust until the fire of your faith has literally burned itself out by your tireless service and the joyful light of your laughter and your peace. We are all children of the light, and the fire of the Holy Spirit that has come to us with great gifts is still like the fire of that burning bush before which Moses stood to encounter our God. Our prayer over these ashes today is that having been burned by the Fire of the Spirit, we may return, not just to dust, but to the eternal fire of God’s Love.