Wednesday of the Second Week of Easter
(John 3:16-21)
Why does it happen? After a tragedy such as the massacre at Virginia Polytechnic Institute last year or a similar slaughter this year at Northern Illinois University we want to know how such mass murders could take place in America today. There is no shortage of answers.
Many point fingers at school administrators. They criticize their failure to provide enough security or to act decisively when trouble starts. Ideologues certainly have their say. From the left they charge that permissive gun laws make every meeting place in the country a potential blood bath. From the right they argue as stridently that violent movies start time bombs ticking in many individuals. God will be accused for not intervening as well. Some will charge that His plan of allowing humans free will is defective. Others will rebut that idea saying, “Whose will is really free?” and add for argument, “Does not God’s power transcend human freedom?”
The Gospel of John does not provide a detailed answer to why mass murders take place. It does tell us today, however, that people prefer darkness to light. From almost the very beginning the world has been marred by wickedness which is not about to stop. The gospel shows us how God acts to relieve suffering. He sends His son to mend many hurts and to teach better ways than the narrow self-interests many people pursue. He further gives His son on the cross, more cruel a death than any rendered by an automatic firearm. He does this, first, to show solidarity with the suffering around the world and through the ages. But much more significantly, His gift provides us the opportunity to stand with him in death so that we may experience the resurrection which inevitably follows.
Homilette for April 1, 2008
Tuesday of the Second Week of Easter
(Acts 4:32-37)
Once a man was going to give a substantial piece of real estate to a church association. Perhaps he had in mind the first reading today where Joseph Barnabas sells his property and gives the entire proceeds to the Jerusalem church community. However, the man’s wife was opposed to giving away the land. She objected that they had children who some day might need extra resources to get by.
Often, it seems, genuine impediments arise in the quest for Church unity. The man wanting to give property to the church association was probably well-intentioned. However, for the sake of his wife’s peace he might have found a more congenial way to lend support. In the early church community of Jerusalem as well impediments to unity creep in. The reading today certainly highlights both generosity and unity as a hallmark of the Christian community following Jesus’ resurrection. But the very next chapter in the book relates how another man similarly sells his property, pretends to give the whole payment to the community, but actually retains part for himself.
Church unity is both a reality to be witnessed and an ideal to be achieved. We are one when we gather together for Mass on Sunday and when we take up a collection for disaster victims. But, of course, not everybody in the community attends Sunday Mass or contributes to relief efforts. We have to try to understand their reasons for lagging support, pray that they may be reconciled with us, and perhaps remind them of how Jesus’ resurrection impels all of his followers to stand together.
(Acts 4:32-37)
Once a man was going to give a substantial piece of real estate to a church association. Perhaps he had in mind the first reading today where Joseph Barnabas sells his property and gives the entire proceeds to the Jerusalem church community. However, the man’s wife was opposed to giving away the land. She objected that they had children who some day might need extra resources to get by.
Often, it seems, genuine impediments arise in the quest for Church unity. The man wanting to give property to the church association was probably well-intentioned. However, for the sake of his wife’s peace he might have found a more congenial way to lend support. In the early church community of Jerusalem as well impediments to unity creep in. The reading today certainly highlights both generosity and unity as a hallmark of the Christian community following Jesus’ resurrection. But the very next chapter in the book relates how another man similarly sells his property, pretends to give the whole payment to the community, but actually retains part for himself.
Church unity is both a reality to be witnessed and an ideal to be achieved. We are one when we gather together for Mass on Sunday and when we take up a collection for disaster victims. But, of course, not everybody in the community attends Sunday Mass or contributes to relief efforts. We have to try to understand their reasons for lagging support, pray that they may be reconciled with us, and perhaps remind them of how Jesus’ resurrection impels all of his followers to stand together.
Homilette for March 31, 2008
Solemnity of the Annunciation of the Lord
(Luke 1:26-38)
In the novel All We Know of Heaven, author Rémy Rougeau, O.S.B., describes how a monk (possibly himself) receives his vocation. It happens literally by a star falling from heaven. Observing the night sky, a boy sees a shooting star land near his home. He is what we might call “a good boy,” but not remarkably superior to others. When he goes to investigate, the lad finds the fallen meteor. Thinking over its significance, he concludes that the incident represents a personal call from God. A number of years later as a young man, he joins a Cistercian monastery.
Luke’s gospel today tells a similar story. Mary has a religious experience. She is devout although the extent of her sanctity is perhaps not evident. An angel tells Mary of her special vocation to be the mother of Jesus Christ. Like the boy pondering the significance of the meteor, Mary questions whether the angel really intends the message for her. After all, she is not married. When the angel assures her that God will provide whatever she lacks, Mary does not hesitate to accept.
We have all probably had an experience that we would call “religious.” Perhaps it was a dream or a conversation with a special person. We probably don’t consider ourselves better than any other person, yet God seems to have shown us His special favor. Like Mary and like the monk in Rémy Rougeau’s novel, let us not fail to consider what He wants us to do.
(Luke 1:26-38)
In the novel All We Know of Heaven, author Rémy Rougeau, O.S.B., describes how a monk (possibly himself) receives his vocation. It happens literally by a star falling from heaven. Observing the night sky, a boy sees a shooting star land near his home. He is what we might call “a good boy,” but not remarkably superior to others. When he goes to investigate, the lad finds the fallen meteor. Thinking over its significance, he concludes that the incident represents a personal call from God. A number of years later as a young man, he joins a Cistercian monastery.
Luke’s gospel today tells a similar story. Mary has a religious experience. She is devout although the extent of her sanctity is perhaps not evident. An angel tells Mary of her special vocation to be the mother of Jesus Christ. Like the boy pondering the significance of the meteor, Mary questions whether the angel really intends the message for her. After all, she is not married. When the angel assures her that God will provide whatever she lacks, Mary does not hesitate to accept.
We have all probably had an experience that we would call “religious.” Perhaps it was a dream or a conversation with a special person. We probably don’t consider ourselves better than any other person, yet God seems to have shown us His special favor. Like Mary and like the monk in Rémy Rougeau’s novel, let us not fail to consider what He wants us to do.
Homilette for March 28, 2008
Friday in the Octave of Easter
(Acts 4:1-12; John 21:1-14)
“The one who loves much, does much.” The Scriptures today witness to this simple test of love in the actions of Peter on behalf of Jesus. Love moves the chief apostle in the reading from Acts to confront the Jewish leaders who recently negotiated Jesus’ execution. In the gospel, love for Jesus compels Peter to jump in the water with his clothes on to greet the risen Lord.
As courageous and spontaneous as Peter’s love for Jesus is, it only shadows Jesus’ love for him and the rest of us. St. Paul surely captures the heart of the gospel when he writes: “...God proves his love for us in that while we were still sinners Christ died for us” (Rom 5:8). His death has gained for us the forgiveness of sin. But that is only half of the mystery of God’s love. His resurrection – the other side of the mystery – promises us eternal life.
Peter’s actions suggest how we might show our love for Christ. We too can confront sin by naming it and then doing what is right. For example, rather than pay a bribe to avoid a heavy fine, we should take responsibility for the situation in which we find ourselves. Also, we should lose no time to meet the Lord in the Eucharist. Coming early to pray quietly and, if possible, to preview the Scriptural readings will indicate our desire to greet the Lord.
(Acts 4:1-12; John 21:1-14)
“The one who loves much, does much.” The Scriptures today witness to this simple test of love in the actions of Peter on behalf of Jesus. Love moves the chief apostle in the reading from Acts to confront the Jewish leaders who recently negotiated Jesus’ execution. In the gospel, love for Jesus compels Peter to jump in the water with his clothes on to greet the risen Lord.
As courageous and spontaneous as Peter’s love for Jesus is, it only shadows Jesus’ love for him and the rest of us. St. Paul surely captures the heart of the gospel when he writes: “...God proves his love for us in that while we were still sinners Christ died for us” (Rom 5:8). His death has gained for us the forgiveness of sin. But that is only half of the mystery of God’s love. His resurrection – the other side of the mystery – promises us eternal life.
Peter’s actions suggest how we might show our love for Christ. We too can confront sin by naming it and then doing what is right. For example, rather than pay a bribe to avoid a heavy fine, we should take responsibility for the situation in which we find ourselves. Also, we should lose no time to meet the Lord in the Eucharist. Coming early to pray quietly and, if possible, to preview the Scriptural readings will indicate our desire to greet the Lord.
Homilette for March 27, 2008
Thursday in the Octave of Easter
(Luke 24:35-48)
The German Renaissance master Mathis Grünewald portrayed scenes from the gospel on what is called the Isenheim Altarpiece. The paintings of the crucifixion and the resurrection especially stand out. One can hardly imagine a more pathetic figure than Christ tortured on the cross. He is writhing in pain. His body is hideously contorted. Thorns not only pierce his head but are embedded over his skin from a beating with reeds. As atrocious as Jesus looks here, his resurrected body is gloriously resplendent. His skin glows, and his wounds sparkle. There is not a hint of the agony he underwent just two days before.
St. Thomas Aquinas would find the magnificent transformation of Christ’s body entirely appropriate. He writes, according to one commentator, that in the resurrection the incorruptible soul bestows on the body “something glorious or luminous”. The gospel narrative today attests to this transformation. Jesus’ disciples cannot believe what they are seeing as the resurrected Lord stands before them. They mistakenly believe that he is a ghost because the last time they saw him was in the distance hanging on the cross (cf. Luke 23:49).
Aquinas does not relegate such a glorified body solely to Jesus, however. No, he says that everyone who dies with Christ are bound to undergo this same transformation. It will not happen on the day we die but at the resurrection of the dead on the last day. Our bodies will have all the resilience of robust youth whether we die at ninety days or ninety years. This is just another example of how God shows his love for us. It provides us still another reason to love God unreservedly in return.
(Luke 24:35-48)
The German Renaissance master Mathis Grünewald portrayed scenes from the gospel on what is called the Isenheim Altarpiece. The paintings of the crucifixion and the resurrection especially stand out. One can hardly imagine a more pathetic figure than Christ tortured on the cross. He is writhing in pain. His body is hideously contorted. Thorns not only pierce his head but are embedded over his skin from a beating with reeds. As atrocious as Jesus looks here, his resurrected body is gloriously resplendent. His skin glows, and his wounds sparkle. There is not a hint of the agony he underwent just two days before.
St. Thomas Aquinas would find the magnificent transformation of Christ’s body entirely appropriate. He writes, according to one commentator, that in the resurrection the incorruptible soul bestows on the body “something glorious or luminous”. The gospel narrative today attests to this transformation. Jesus’ disciples cannot believe what they are seeing as the resurrected Lord stands before them. They mistakenly believe that he is a ghost because the last time they saw him was in the distance hanging on the cross (cf. Luke 23:49).
Aquinas does not relegate such a glorified body solely to Jesus, however. No, he says that everyone who dies with Christ are bound to undergo this same transformation. It will not happen on the day we die but at the resurrection of the dead on the last day. Our bodies will have all the resilience of robust youth whether we die at ninety days or ninety years. This is just another example of how God shows his love for us. It provides us still another reason to love God unreservedly in return.
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