Fr. Rick Spicer

A small boy and his grandfather were flying a kite on a hillside when suddenly a low cloud hid the kite from their sight. After a few minutes, the grandfather said to his grandson, “Bobby, maybe some thief up in the clouds has stolen your kite!” The young boy shook his head in disagreement.

A few minutes later when the kite still had not reappeared, the grandfather repeated his claim, “Bobby, I think some thief up in the sky has stolen your kite!” Again, the boy shook his head.

“But Bobby,” said his grandfather, “How can you be so sure that the kite is still at the end of your string?” The young boy replied, “Because I can feel something you can’t feel. I can feel the kite tugging at my string.”

Bobby’s story illustrates why many people who were never given the first hand opportunity to see the risen Jesus were convinced that he indeed had risen from the dead. They were sure for the same reason Bobby knew that no one had stolen his kite. They still felt the tug of Jesus in their lives. They experienced the power of the risen Jesus in their hearts, a power unlike anything they had ever felt before.

Before dawn on that first Easter morning, we can imagine how the disciples must have felt. Anyone of us who has experienced the death of a close friend can fathom their grief. They had seen Jesus scourged, mocked, jeered at, then nailed to a cross. They had watched their dream die before their eyes on Calvary.

The thought of encountering angels, much less stumbling on an empty tomb, was certainly the last thought on the minds of Mary Magdalene and the other women as they made their way at the break of dawn.  As we heard, they ran to share the news of what they had seen with the other disciples. The rock that had sealed the tomb had been moved and they had seen the risen Lord.

When the news later reached the high priests of the temple, they tried to downplay the story with the absurd claim that someone had stolen the body while the guards were asleep. Now and then, skeptics have argued that the body was really stolen. As time passed, however, many people like you and me became convinced beyond any doubt that the body was not stolen. In their hearts, they knew the truth that Jesus had risen from the dead. Like Bobby with his kite, they felt the tug of Jesus in their lives, even if they never had the chance to actually see the risen Christ.

Transformed by this power, many early Christians certainly didn’t keep mum. They shared the good news with anyone who would listen. No amount of persecution could stop them. Eventually, some, like Jesus, were crucified. Legend claims that many were killed by wild beasts in the Roman Coliseum. Still others were burned at stake. Yet their belief in Jesus never wavered.

This was certainly noticed by early historians. In his writings, Josephus, a Jewish historian of the first century, said this about the risen Jesus, “It is also stated that after his execution and entombment, he disappeared entirely. Some people actually assert that he had risen; others retort that his friends stole him away. I for one cannot decide where the truth lies.”

Perhaps Josephus couldn’t, but over the next 2000 years, many people could decide what the truth actually was. They felt the tug of Jesus and professed their faith in the resurrection, not just of Jesus, but also their own. Like many early Christians, countless believers have died for their faith in Jesus since that first Easter, but why? Because they knew that by dying in Christ, they would also live with Christ.

In contrast to the non-believer, Christians find in the resurrection, a new understanding of the common human experience of dying. They came to realize in the resurrection of Jesus that death was no longer the end of one’s life but a transition. Death is not even seen as the start of another life for we do not have two lives anymore than a cat has nine. We only have one life. The resurrection demonstrates that death is not a period, but a comma, a pause, to make sense out of the sentence of one’s life.

The sound of joy we resonate whenever we acclaim, “Alleluia!” expresses our hope that no matter what, “I shall not die, but live.” However bleak or hard life may be to us, Jesus is there, tugging at our hearts to offer newness of life to our being, assuring us that like him, we too will experience resurrection.

Belief in the resurrection has provided countless generations of Christians with a profound feeling of hope and freshness. We dare to believe in the unbelievable but then, that is what separates us from those throughout history who have highly respected Jesus as a great teacher and rabbi but could not bring themselves to believe that he is the Son of God.

Having witnessed the risen Christ, the disciples went forth to proclaim the good news at any cost. They proclaimed the good news that Jesus triumphed over sin and evil; and so will we if we open our hearts to him. They shared the good news that Jesus is ready to work miracles in our lives if we open our hearts to his love. We do not have to die to share in his risen life for we can and do experience the presence of the risen Jesus in this lifetime.

The challenge of the resurrection is believing that his new life can change our lives. If Jesus lives again, and that is the Easter message we proclaim whenever we celebrate the Mass, we can live our lives anew with fresh hope and with peace restored, knowing deep within our hearts that our own tombs have been emptied of any sense of defeat and failure. May your Easter be blessed with the truth that Jesus is tugging at your hearts.

To understand the rich meaning of Jesus’ regal entry into Jerusalem, we need to consider the Jewish expectations of the Messiah. He was to be a hero who would lead them into battle, defeat their enemies and restore God’s kingdom of peace and justice. For the people of Jerusalem, that meant overcoming the Romans. Because the Messiah was to be descended from King David, he was called, “Son of David, the one who comes in the name of the Lord.”

As Jesus entered the city, the crowds cried out, “Hosanna!” which in Greek means “Lord, save us.” Because of his royal roots as a descendant of King David, the Jews believed the Messiah deserved the red carpet treatment, so Jesus was greeted with palms as he entered Jerusalem.  Thus, by their actions and words, the crowds proclaimed him as their long awaited Messiah.

Jesus accepted the honor although his understanding of Messiah certainly did not match theirs. For him, the Messiah was not a military hero who would overthrow the Romans, but a humble servant of God who would conquer sin and death by doing the will of his Father. Consequently, the cheers soon turned to jeers and the crowds demanded, “Crucify him! Crucify him!” What a radical change from a hero’s welcome to a barbaric execution.

To his followers, what they witnessed epitomized all that Jesus had taught them. To love God meant totally surrendering oneself to the will of the Father. What better way could the teacher drive this lesson home than by his own example? He stood for truth, regardless of what it would cost him.

Jesus passionately demonstrates his total self-surrender to God in the garden where he pleaded, “My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me, yet, not as I will, but as you will.”  That didn’t come easy for him, as we hear when he cries out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

Identifying himself with all who suffer in every age, Jesus knew he had no choice. To place his own interests first would mean being unfaithful to those who pleaded, “Hosanna! Save us, O Lord!”

One word sums up this gospel: betrayal. That is what many did to Jesus. Judas wasn’t the only one to betray Jesus; there were the chief priests, the elders, the crowds, and even his disciples. They were not the first, nor would they be the last. Adam and Eve were the first to betray God and by our own sinfulness, we have done the same from time to time.

Betrayal stems from the desire to be on top, to be better off than others, or to think of oneself as superior to others. Some betrayers act the way they do because they think they know what is best for others. Betrayal describes the motives behind Judas, Peter, the chief priests and nearly everyone else in the passion story. For example, when his hopes for a new kingdom were dashed, Judas felt that Jesus had betrayed him, so he did not hesitate to betray Jesus. Likewise, the chief priests viewed him as a fraud, guilty of blasphemy, who needed to be silenced.

Our attitude, Paul tells us, must be that of Christ, even to death on the cross. Being obedient doesn’t always come easy, given that we often want to live on our own terms, ignoring what God asks of us. But as Christians, we are called to live life on God’s terms and that means letting go of our will and following the example of the one who has come to save us, even at the risk of being jeered at and disowned by our peers. Surrendering to God is the only battle plan Jesus has for ultimately saving us from our real enemies, sin and evil. If you wish to conquer them, then allow Jesus’ prayer to be yours: “Father, not as I will, but as you will.”
 

Locally, we tend to take water so much for granted. With the turn of the tap, we have safe clean water for drinking, bathing, cooking and washing. Many peoples in third world countries are not so fortunate. Like the Samaritan woman whom we meet in the gospel, they trek to the local well with jugs, cans or buckets and carry their water back home.

Elsewhere in our own country, water is becoming scarce. I read recently that Lake Mead, the reservoir behind Hoover Dam which supplies water to Las Vegas, could be dry by 2021. In Georgia, facing its worst draught in decades, questions are being raised about its border with Tennessee in the hopes that a new survey will allow that state to tap into the Tennessee River.

Today’s readings focus on water and thirst, but a different kind. Having no faith in God, the Israelites grumbled, “Why did you ever make us leave Egypt?” Every day, the Church recounts their resentful attitude by beginning its official daily prayer with psalm 95 in which God cautions, “Harden not your hearts as at Meribah, as in the day of Massah in the desert, where your fathers tempted me.” Yet, harden our hearts is what we do every time we follow the example of those disenchanted Hebrews and focus on our physical thirst while ignoring our spiritual thirst.

That is the point Jesus is trying to make in this unusual conversation with the Samaritan woman is that we all have a spiritual thirst, just as we have a physical thirst. Too often, we try to fill that thirst with something other than God.

The Samaritan woman thought that her five husbands would quench her thirst but she discovered otherwise. Many people seek to satisfy their thirst through self-indulging addictions like drinking, drugs, smoking, gambling, pornography, surfing the internet, or consumerism. Whatever our indulgences are, most likely they have not satisfied our restless hearts.

Like soda pop, they may give us a momentary lift but they can never truly quench our thirst for love. Satisfying our spiritual thirst with material things is like trying to satisfy our physical thirst with salt water. The more we drink, the thirstier we get.

The peace and love we yearn for can only be found through the saving love of God poured out into our hearts. Thirst symbolizes the absence of God in our lives…that longing within every human heart. St. Augustine talks about our hearts being restless until they find rest in God.

Since the pleasures of life fail to truly satisfy the longing of our hearts or our thirsting human spirit, the only remedy as the Samaritan woman discovered, is an intimate relationship with Jesus who provides a mysterious living water that produces a well-spring of life within us. As he said to her, “Whoever drinks the water I shall give will never thirst; the water I shall give will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.”

If we want to truly experience the living water that Jesus speaks of then we must be honest with ourselves and the reality of sin in our daily lives. We cannot claim to be followers of Jesus Christ unless we choose to actively follow him. Simply put, the stronger our faith is, the less likely we will give in to temptation and sin. Granted, we are human and regardless of how strong our faith is, we will still sin, but the stronger our faith is, the more resistant we become to temptation by recognizing the destructive potential of sin on our lives. On the other hand, the weaker our faith remains, the more tolerant we become of our own sinfulness.

Sin begets sin and virtue begets virtue. When we continually give into sin, we undermine our relationship with God and sometimes with those around us. At the moment, I can imagine a fair number of you mildly protesting, “But I am not a sinner, certainly not a big time sinner.”  Hopefully not, but have you given Jesus a chance to truly quench your spiritual thirst with living water?

Undoubtedly there are moments in any given day when the temptation to sin surfaces, so what do you do? Speaking from experience, I suspect you give in more often than you care to admit. After all, some sins are habit forming. And how do you feel afterwards? I would wager that your deep thirst, the thirst for living water that Jesus speaks of in the gospel, has not been quenched. That can only be done through prayer and faith. Yet, how often do we put aside time for prayer or worship, tempted instead to spend the time watching TV, shopping, surfing the internet, or any other time consuming habit? To receive the healing benefits that Jesus promises, praying is what we must choose to do whenever temptation arises for prayer is the only way we can experience the living water that we truly thirst for.

Prayer is as vital for our spiritual health as sleep is for our physical health. Just as we deliberately make time for eating, sleeping, bathing, and working, we must make time to be in touch with God. That can be done in so many ways; adoration of the Blessed Sacrament, daily mass, studying the bible, and meditation to name but a few. And of course, there is the much neglected sacrament of reconciliation which I encourage you to celebrate during Lent. If you are not deliberately putting time aside for God each day, do so in some way beginning tomorrow and you will see a difference in your life come Easter.

The contrast in attitude between the Israelites in the desert and the Samaritan woman and her neighbors raises a challenging question for us to ponder. Is our religion one that sees God as fulfilling our needs or one that recognizes that God is what we truly desire in life? Only one choice allows us to join the Samaritans in proclaiming, “We know that this is truly the savior of the world.”
 

When I was a teenager, we called them pimples. Today I understand they are called zits. Back then, I thought they were an unavoidable rite of adolescence that would pass once I became an adult. Not so, l learned later on in life, for even at my age, a zit can flare up unexpectedly.

To the person who has one, this blemish may stand out like a sore thumb so you pray that no one notices but you suspect that they do. Granted, its presence mars the beauty of your face for a few days but then, thank God, it disappears. Of course, as some teens well know, zits can leave scars.  I recall my older sister doing all she could to prevent pimples from happening. She avoided chocolate because she believed that caused them. She even went to a dermatologist who taught her how to pop them properly to prevent scarring.

When we see someone with a zit, does it distract us from seeing the whole person? If it isn’t a pimple, it could be a scar, or a mannerism, the presence of certain jewelry, or a lingering aroma. Distractions prevent us from noticing that there is more to the whole person than meets the eye.

That was what the apostles discovered when Jesus was transfigured before them on the high mountain. In this powerful moment, they realize that Jesus is far more than a rabbi whom they had been listening to for several years. They learn he is God’s beloved son. Imagine how dumbfounded they must have been to finally understand who Jesus of Nazareth truly was. He would never look the same to them again.

Transfigurations happen to us as well. It is an event or an incident that enables us to see someone, even ourselves, in a new light. Though they are brief, the moments linger in our memories, moments when we come to better understand and know that person or ourselves.

Many of us tend to label other people, even ourselves, with one or two word definitions. We might make a generalization of a member of our family or a neighbor, for example, as being kind, loving, frugal, considerate, or hot tempered. We might label a fellow employee or friend as being fun to be with, hard working, lazy, generous or cheap; we may define ourselves as being any or none of the above as well.

We watch others in action and label them by what they say or do. Perhaps we are right on the mark in defining who they are, but most likely, we are only seeing a part of the picture. Before jumping to any conclusions, we should ask ourselves, “Are we focusing too much on that person’s zit?” Just as there is more to an iceberg than what shows above the surface, there is more to a person than what we see.

A person, whom we catch in a bad mood and write off as being cranky, may in fact be a very loving parent, a devoted spouse, a joy to his or her friends, but being human, like us, he or she has flaws. There is more to us than can be summarized in a single sentence, much less a word or two for we are incredibly complex creatures made in the image of God.

Having been made in God’s image, our quest in life, as Paul pointed out in his letter to Timothy is to grow in holiness. To achieve that, we must allow ourselves to become transfigured by discovering and working with all that we have; our strengths along with our shortcomings.

We become transfigured when we let the best in us shine forth; dwelling not on our shortcomings but on seeking to be all that God calls us to be: holy, loving, forgiving, and merciful. Divine like qualities of unconditional love, wisdom, tolerance, and compassion, to name but a few, are waiting like a rosebud to blossom forth from within us.

We are composites of positive and negatives qualities and depending on the situation we find ourselves in, we can display traits of both kinds. When we are critical, we can still be compassionate. If we are demanding, we can also be gentle. If we are sometimes offensive, we can still be gracious. We can heal as much as we can hurt. We can be afraid as readily as we can be brave. Along with all our faults, weaknesses, and sins, we are blessed with talents, strengths, and virtues. And what is true for us is true for every person in our lives. What we choose to see in ourselves and in others, though, is up to us.

Whenever we focus too much on the blemishes, that is, the flaws, shortcomings, and sins, either ours or someone else’s, we miss out on an opportunity to become the holy person that God is calling on us to be.

Our transfiguration begins with a change of attitude. We can indeed become holy people! Keep in mind, every saint was also a sinner. The task is not impossible for holiness emerges when we endeavor to grow toward God and away from our self-centeredness. To be holy is to follow the example of Jesus. Lent abounds with opportunities to do just that. For example, is there anyone in your life whom you struggle to love? A step toward holiness would be to shower that person with kindness and love. In the spirit of this season, we are called to reconcile and forgive; that too is a step toward holiness, forgiving someone just as we are asking God to forgive us for our shortcomings. Lent is a time to fast, so think of fasting from those negative habits that cut you off from celebrating love, such as verbal or physical abuse of any kind.

Too often we treat others poorly and without much love when they don’t meet our expectations, because we focus on their “zits” rather than the whole person. Fortunately, God does not do that and if we followed his example, neither would we.
 

There is a little detail in this gospel passage that I never paid attention to before. Matthew tells us that Jesus went up the mountain to teach the disciples. What a lesson he taught them! For us, 2000 years later, the beatitudes still present a challenge, but that is because some of us still have no clue where Jesus is coming from. He certainly was not speaking to a crowd of American pilgrims visiting the Holy Land.

Unquestionably, the beatitudes are among the most famous and beloved lines in the Bible. They list the kinds of persons whom Jesus declares to be blessed, happy and fortunate, and they tell us what such persons can hope for. They place before us what our goal as Christians should be and can be. They also show us how we can reach our goal. Jesus assures us that our hopes can be fulfilled. From a teacher’s point of view, one could say that the beatitudes are the entrance requirements for entering the kingdom of heaven along with a description of the blessings that will be enjoyed by those who are there.

One drawback for many of us who are listening to Jesus share those lessons today is that we are apt to take this passage literally and miss what is truly beneath the surface. Keep in mind that each beatitude has two parts. The first part declares blessed or happy those who display certain attitudes or perform certain actions. These are the qualifications for entering the kingdom of heaven. We tend to focus on the first part and neglect the second, which lists our hopes and dreams, thus turning the beatitudes into ethical rules instead of blueprints for living.

The first part of each beatitude lists the qualities, characteristics and behaviors of those who aspire to fully participate in God’s kingdom. Such persons try to be poor in spirit, compassionate, meek, merciful, clean of heart, and peacemakers, and in the process, they are willing to be insulted and persecuted. Alas, their values stand in stark contrast to what is often celebrated and glorified in the media today.

As I said, we need to do a bit of digging to better understand where Jesus is coming from. The value that prompted all behavior back then was honor, not money. Honor was your claim to acceptance by others and their acknowledgement of that claim. What Jesus proposes here is honorable behavior on the part of his disciples. Among the basic honorable behaviors being suggested by Jesus was being poor in spirit. “Blessed are the poor in spirit for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” Now, before you think heaven can’t be yours unless you are poor, keep in mind that Jesus isn’t speaking economics or money here. For him, being poor describes someone who has lost honorable status and must at all cost seek to regain that status.

So blessed are the poor in spirit! Jesus is not commending those who are literally poor or putting down those who are well off; he is lauding those who realize that they have lost their honor in the sight of God. Now, they see their need to repent, to change their ways, to regain the status they once possessed, and when they do, he says the kingdom of heaven will be theirs.

In our consumer-driven society, we tend to view things as the source of happiness, but Jesus is telling us not so, not so. As William Barclay, a well known scripture scholar notes, “The one who is poor in spirit is the one who has realized that things mean nothing and God means everything.” The readings today show us once again that God does not conform to the standards of the world, but rather, God turns them upside down. Those who truly love will recognize the beatitudes as examples of love in action, love that they are already showing in what they do. Lent, which begins in a few days, will provide us an opportunity to judge just how poor in spirit we really are and to see for ourselves how blessed we truly are.