April 20, 2025 at St Peter the Apostle and Saint William Churches in Naples, FL

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

There is a lot of running around in the Gospel verses we proclaim today, and it is proclaimed to world that is still running around all over the place. From one relationship to another, from one job to another, from one home to another, the running goes on and on. Artificial Intelligence tells me that there are 45,000 passenger planes in the air every day with 2.9 million people in them. They will all hit the ground and start running all over the place. Yet, here we are in the sacred space, and at least for the moment, no one is running, but many of you know the signal to start.

Just like Mary, Peter, and John, we have run to this place hopefully seeking the Lord. Like those three, we are sometimes confused, sometimes uncertain, sometimes believing, and most of the time struggling. The world in which we live and from which we sometimes want to run insists that religion has had its day and that the church is finished. The resurrection could not possibly have happened. “Some things never change” so they say, leaving us all frozen in time helpless and hopeless in the face life’s challenges and demands.

As John writes these verses, there are four characters put before us: Mary, Peter, John, and “They.” There is always a “they” in this life and so they have to appear in this story. “They” have taken the Lord. It was the “they” who were at work in the trial and death of Jesus. It was “they” who stirred up the people. “They” were the ones who decreed that the body of Jesus must be removed for whatever reason. They are always nameless, their identity is vague, but they are always pitted against us the helpless.  Whatever it is we don’t like or whatever leaves us helpless, it is almost always, “they.” They closed my street for repairs. They turned off the water to fix the pipes, and we are never quite sure exactly who has done this, but we have a vague sense of some power impinging on my world. 

All of this thinking can eventually make us unwilling to take personal responsibility for our lives. A world dominated by “they” is one in which we are forever at the mercy of powers and authorities beyond us leaving us without any control over our destiny. This is what Mary, Peter, and John were facing the moment they stared into that empty tomb.

Have “they” done something or not? Are “they” going to determine what those three see and believe? That’s the issue here. “They” are casting their influence over Mary and the others. As we see, that spell, that dark power gets broken. It does not happen all at once for everyone, but in the character of these three we see how it is possible to move from the anger, fear, and grief of Mary to Peter’s curious wonder over how or why the wrappings and napkin were all folded up to the belief of John.

My friends, faith in the resurrection of Christ is not a dogma. It is a way of life that flows from the conviction that Christ’s new life is ours as well. It is not some mystery to cling to. It is a practice to develop in new and deeper ways. I can stand here saying these things because I have witnessed the resurrection, and so have you. I have seen survivors of tragedies that “they” have caused rise up with courage starting a new live that in many ways is better than the old. I have seen men and women face the death of their loving companions come out of a tomb called “grief” and find and live a new life marked by hope and joy. I’ve seen people whose homes have been destroyed by fire or storm begin life again with joy because they are still together.

In this life, if we surrender to the power “they” may have over us, we shall live always in fear, plagued by doubts, angry and helpless. The resurrection of Jesus Christ offers us another way. It is the way of hope. It is the way of faith. It is without a doubt, the way of love which conquers all things. We have to go into that tomb. We have to die a little to ourselves if we have any hope of coming out. We have to take off the clothes of death, remove the veil that covers our face and our eyes so that we can see the face of God and live. When we do so, our lives will proclaim the presence of Christ and we can dare to proceed in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. This will make all the difference in the world.

April 18, 2025 At Saint Peter the Apostle Church in Naples, FL

Isaiah 52: 13-53:12 + Psalm 31 + Hebrews 4: 14-16, 5: 7-9 + John 18: 1-19:42

We have just completed part one of a great and ancient ritual that has known very little change since the year 381 when a pilgrim made her way to Jerusalem to join that early Christian Community gathering to remember what Saint John passed on to us. She writes that the Christians gathered in silence at the place of the crucifixion from Eight in the Morning until Three in the afternoon with the wooden cross exposed. Then they carried that cross to their church where they listened to the Prophet, sang Psalms, and offered prayers for all in the world. Their focus was the Passion and Death of Christ. It was a day of intense fast and constant prayer. The fast even extended to Holy Communion, because there was no Mass celebrated on Friday or Saturday of Holy Week. The cross was what held them and drew them together just as it does today.

In a few moments we shall begin the Solemn Prayers for all the world with the hope that no one might be left out of God’s Mercy and God’s Kingdom. After which, the climactic moment that brings us here today begins as a cross of wood is brought into this place. We can only be stunned to silence by the power of that cross. An instrument of death becomes the source of our hope.

Some have and always will wonder what kind of God could demand the death of his only Son before forgiving us. They have failed to listen to the New Testament that never says God demands the death of His Son. It does say that Christ came among us to do the will of the Father. Jesus is crucified while doing the will of his Father. That does not make his dreadful death what the Father desired or demanded. A child can be killed while doing some chore asked for by a parent. The parent only asked for that chore, not the death.

The one great gift all of us have and have had since the dawn of creation is the gift of a will and freedom. The great adventure of life is about the choices we make with that freedom, and the whole history of human life is one great struggle over making the right choices. Until now, the stories of that history are tragic and violent. Too often we have come close to destroying everything and ourselves.

Then comes Jesus. That moment in history when God resets creation, and God’s Son comes with his mission saying: “I came down from heaven not to do my own will but the will of the one who sent me.” (John 6:38) He came to want what the Father has wanted from the very beginning, that we might all be one living in peace in this beautiful garden God made for us.

As we just heard, Jesus gave up his spirit so that his spirit might be poured out into us, and showered upon all creation. This ought to leave us startled and stunned only to be awakened, like Christ on Easter, empowered by the gifts of that Spirit to lift high the cross, to stand firm in the face of evil, to set right what is broken, always thirsting to do the Father’s will. When we do, we will know what Jesus knew at the final moment. It is “Enough.”

April 13, 2025 at Saint Peter Churches in Naples, FL

Isaiah 50: 4-7 + Psalm 22 + Philippians 1: 6-11 + Luke 22: 14-23:56

Our prayer is long today, and we give to God some extra time to listen to his Word and remember the two gifts we have all been given: life and death. Without that second gift, the first one, life, would not be nearly as precious. In fact, it might actually be tedious, monotonous, and frightening.

While we live we have before us a troubling sign of God’s love with the memory and the image of an innocent man crucified. Over and over again in Luke’s Passion Jesus is found not-guilty, and yet, a victim of jealousy and fear he dies while everyone who knew him, who loved, who followed him everywhere said nothing. We like to think that the Romans killed him and the leaders of the people demanded it. But the truth is, silence killed him. Even Joseph of Aramathea, a member of the Sanhedrin who, Luke tells us, did not consent to their plan seems to have done nothing except bury the body of an innocent man.

We have much to remember and even more to ponder this Holy Week. What must not be forgotten is that silence in the face in any injustice is a terrible thing that leaves us all accountable and responsible for the suffering of innocent people. We gaze at the cross and hear its story over and over again to be reminded of what comes next, because it is not the end of our story of God’s love.

It is Easter that we really celebrate. It is the hope we have in the face of death that gives us reason to really live. For people like us who can see beyond the cross, hope always defeats despair, joy wins over sorrow, good triumphs over evil, and faith conquers fear.

April 6, 2025 at Saint William Catholic Church in Naples, FL

Isaiah 43: 16-21 + Psalm 126 + Philippians 3: 8-14  + John 8: 1-12

 A quick look or listen to this Gospel and we could easily think that this is about the sin of adultery. But that doesn’t say much to me and, I hope, to most of you. Adultery is not my problem. Christ is speaking to us today in this place, and he is not speaking about adultery. There is shameful sin involved in the way these scribes and Pharisees treated that woman. There is not a shred of evidence that they recognized a human being. There is no sense that they gave any thought to her feelings. They are using her as bait to trap Jesus.

There is another sin in their attitude toward Jesus. They wanted to shut him up and just do away with him. Murder is in their hardened hearts and a stubborn refusal to listen to him because he threatened their way of life and their values. Those Pharisees thought more of the law than the person. Maybe the greater sin here is their refusal of mercy, and mercy is what this is all about, because that is what we see at this moment in Jesus Christ.

Do not be distracted by that writing on the ground business. No scholar knows what that is all about. Wasting time even thinking about it avoids facing the demands of this story. One of the most basic principles left to us by Jesus is that no human being is to judge another. Distinguishing the difference between the sin and the sinner, Jesus does not condemn. He did not need to realizing that she was already condemned. She did not need that. What she needed was mercy. Those standing around, and even some today might ask why she deserved mercy. Of course, that thinking only comes to those who have forgotten what mercy is, a gift, a pure gift. No one earns it. No one deserves it.

Jesus never approved of the sin. In fact, he urges her to sin no more, and he does so in such a way that his respect for her comes through in the telling of the story. He invites her to conversion which is why we retell this story now near the very end of Lent as we approach Holy Week. It’s not too late, is the message. It is not too late to recognize our own sin. It is not too late to admit that we have and we do use other people sometimes for our selfish pleasure or to protect our comfortable lives. It is not too late to open our hearts and our minds to the truth and the message of Jesus Christ. It is not too late to stop judging other people, to stop humiliating others and treating them without any respect for their human dignity no matter what they have done to themselves. We don’t need to do any more damage to them. It is not too late to hope for mercy either because we all need it badly.

Compassion for fellow human beings is without a doubt one of the most important things in life. If there was more of it, there would be lasting peace, and there would be justice that looks less like punishment or revenge. We would all be better for it and have more hope that standing before Christ in judgement we might receive what we do not deserve, his mercy.