Fr. Rick Spicer

A few years ago, the great jazz trumpeter Wynton Marsalis was performing at a jazz club in New York City. He was playing a solo of Victor Young’s romantic ballad, “I don’t stand a Ghost of a Chance with you.” The audience was mesmerized as Marsalis captured the sadness and melancholy of the piece. But the silence was suddenly shattered when, at the most dramatic point in Marsalis’ performance, someone’s cell phone went off, blaring a sing-song melody of electronic bleeps. Some people sighed, a few giggled, the audience returned to their drinks. The magic of this extraordinary moment was gone.

Or so it seemed. The cell phone offender beat a hasty exit out of the room; the chatter within the audience grew louder. Alone at the microphone, Marsalis paused for a moment, motionless, his eyebrows arched, his trumpet in his hand. Marsalis then began to play the silly cell-phone melody note for note. He repeated the four notes and began improvising variations on the tune. The audience quieted down, sensing that something wonderful was happening. They slowly came back. In a few minutes, Marsalis resolved the improvisation through a couple of key changes and settled to a tempo ballad, ending with the final notes of “I Don’t Stand a ghost of Chance With You.” Needless to say, the ovation was tremendous. Wynton Marsalis had recaptured the magic.

All great musicians like Wynton Marsalis are uniquely tuned into music as a continuum, hearing melody where the rest of us hear noise, imagining connections between every tune and air to the great symphony of all music. From the first Pentecost to our own today, the Holy Spirit “plays” in every expression of compassion and act of justice, enabling us to add our own instruments to humanity’s communion song with God, the world, and with one another.

As a feast, Pentecost is not easy to celebrate visually. In advent, we see a wreath decked with four candles. At Christmas, we have the crib and a tree. In Lent, we focus on the cross and a barren sanctuary. At Easter we light a splendid paschal candle and deck the sanctuary with lilies. But, except for the banners and vestment, which symbolize the tongues of fire at the first Pentecost, there isn’t much to see on Pentecost Sunday.

Because Luke spoke of the Holy Spirit descending on Jesus at his baptism as a dove, that image is an ancient part of our tradition. But like a canary escaping from its cage, that seems to put the Holy Spirit out of bounds, inaccessible to ordinary people like you and me or so we think.

The Spirit is present in our midst, not just in this church but wherever the baptized are present. The more you think about it, Pentecost is not so much a feast to see but a feast to feel. We are always breathing but we give little thought to that essential activity until for whatever reason we have to gasp for air. Likewise, the Spirit can be felt as God’s breath to continually grace you with gifts to fully live.

In the Hebrew testament, the words for wind, breath and spirit are often used interchangeably. In the story of the first Pentecost, a noise like a strong driving wind filled the room where the apostles were gathered. We are told, “They were all filled with the Holy Spirit.”

They were changed by that encounter. They were gifted in ways they had never imagined. I suppose many folks ever since wished they could have been there to have the same experience to enliven their faith. The Spirit has come to us, perhaps not through a mighty wind or the breath of the risen Lord or as tongues of fire, but through the waters of baptism and the oils of anointing. As Paul points out, the Spirit has gifted all of us. What might those gifts be?

Wisdomis the gift of knowing the right choices to make to live a holy life and to avoid the things that could lead us away from God.

Understandingis the gift of comprehension or the ability to grasp the meaning of the teachings of the Church. This gift helps us to be tolerant and to sense when someone is hurting or in need of compassion.

Right judgmentis the gift of prudence, which helps us make choices to live as a faithful follower of Jesus.

Courageor fortitude is the gift to help us stand up for our faith in Christ and to overcome any obstacles that keep us from practicing our faith.

Knowledgeis the gift of knowing and enlightenment, which enables us to choose the right path that leads us to God.

Reverence is the gift of confidence in God; this gift inspires us to joyfully want to serve God and others.

Wonder and awe, or fear of the Lord is the gift that encourages us to be in awe of God. This gift moves us to so love God that we do not want to offend the Lord by our words and actions.

When we make use of these gifts, we grow as followers of Jesus. We see the effect of the Holy Spirit’s presence in our lives in the qualities and attitudes we develop as we grow in faith. The devil doesn’t “stand a ghost of a chance with you” when you make use of the many gifts the Spirit gives you.

In the comic strip, Shoe, the irascible Shoe is at the counter trying to pick up a woman who is sitting at the next stool. “Listen,” Shoe says, “I don’t mean to be a pest. You say the word and I’m out of here.” The woman responds, “Why that is very sweet of you.” She then says, “Commitment.” When she turns around, the entire place is empty.

Fortunately, for you and me, that didn’t happen when Jesus spoke much the same message to the disciples shortly before he ascended to heaven. His ascension became a moment of commitment for the disciples. They could have gone back to their former lives, fishing, collecting taxes, whatever, but they didn’t. Jesus had entrusted them with the mission to go forth from Jerusalem to be his witnesses to the ends of the earth and once they were empowered by the Holy Spirit, they did just that.

Since then the Church has carried out its mission, fully committed to sharing the Good News, living up to its name, “Catholic,” which means universal. Commissioned by Jesus to teach his message of salvation and forgiveness through scripture and the sacraments, the Church has been a continual witness to his passion, death, and resurrection, along with his call to repentance and the forgiveness of sins in many corners of the world.

Little did the apostles realize what was in store for them when they asked the question, “Lord, are you at this time going to restore the Kingdom to Israel?” Indeed he would but not in the manner they had envisioned. His kingdom would liberate them from sin, not Roman oppression. The Church that began with them has since become the largest and most widespread faith in the world committed to sharing the Good News. Something must have gone right for that to happen in spite of its many shortcomings throughout its history.

Although the event brought Jesus’ earthly mission to a close, his final words were more of a commencement address than a farewell discourse. In effect, Jesus challenged the disciples to make a difference in the world around them, enlightened by what he had taught them and empowered by the Holy Spirit to do so. He told them, “Repentance, for the forgiveness of sins in his name, would be preached to all the nations, beginning from Jerusalem.”

What he charged to the apostles then is a mission that Jesus entrusts to us now. Keep in mind though that he isn’t sending you out there on your own. As he said to the apostles, “Wait for the promise of the Father about which you have heard me speak for in a few days you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit.” By virtue of our baptism we are empowered with the presence of the Holy Spirit in our lives.

The task of preaching the gospel to the world now depends on us. As his witnesses, Jesus isn’t suggesting that we be religious fanatics and stand on some street corner in downtown Langley, thumping a Bible and preaching to anyone who would listen. While evangelizing in that manner could have an impact on some nonbelievers in our midst, and some of our fellow parishioners have done that at local markets, we can be more effective simply by living the faith well by what we say and do. We proclaim the Good News best by striving to remain committed to the faith we profess.

The evangelical witness that the world finds most appealing has concern for people and charity towards the poor, the weak, and those who are suffering. Back in my college days, a popular folk song at Mass, which we sing at times here, was “They’ll know we are Christians by our Love.” Setting an example by loving others, showing respect to them, being patient with those who may annoy us, forgiving those who have offended us, working side by side for a better world are examples of how we can effectively proclaim the Gospel and make the kingdom real in this time and place. Carrying out the corporal works of mercy as pictured in those stained glass windows are ways of acting toward others just as Christ would expect us to. After all, actions do speak louder than words. On the flip side, speaking ill of anyone or losing one’s temper would do nothing to create the kingdom that Jesus has in mind for bringing peace into our lives.

Witnessing to Jesus and teaching others about him can seem daunting but we are in this together. Think of the Ascension as that moment in the relay race in which Jesus passed the baton on to his disciples, which is now being passed on to us to carry on his mission of building the kingdom. The idea may seem intimidating to you like an assignment on Mission Impossible yet Jesus is counting on us to do our part to build up his kingdom in this lifetime.

The witness of the Christian life is more powerful than any argument; as I said, actions speak louder than words. In the lives of some, the flame of faith is a bright flame whereas in the lives of others that faith is a dim glow or an occasional spark. I stand before you today because I was inspired by the example of my parents and certain friends whose faith were like bright flames that left a lasting impression on me, challenging me to remain committed to our Catholic faith. Your personal testimony, example, and conviction, evidenced by your love, faith and commitment to Christ, may very well make a lasting impression on someone in your life, just as my father, who became a Catholic a year before he died, did on me when I was a teenager.

“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you.” Jesus made this promise to his apostles and to us at the Last Supper. Peace. Another one of those short words, like faith, hope, joy and love that leave our lips so easily yet remain a mystery. We seek peace but just what are we looking for?

It seems strange that in the opening scenes of Luke’s gospel, the angels announce peace on earth to shepherds in the fields at Bethlehem yet the world continues to experience conflict. Memorial Day reminds us of that grim reality. Where is the peace that the angels spoke of? Certainly not in Afghanistan, Mexico, Syria, Yemen, Somalia, Nigeria, Iraq, Saudi Arabia, South Sudan, Mali and the Congo. Last year war-related fatalities in each of those countries ranged from 1750 to over 35,000.

Alas, peace remains a distant reality. Still we seek peace but what is this peace that we are seeking? The dictionary defines peace as the absence of war or other hostilities, but that isn’t what Jesus has in mind here.

The peace Jesus offers isn’t the peace so many people yearn for, namely the absence of hostility, but his gift of peace is essential if we are to find the worldly peace that we have vainly sought since prehistoric times.

We need to contrast our notion of peace with the biblical notion of peace that Jesus speaks of. The peace in his promise goes back to the Hebrew word, shalom, which is too rich to easily translate into one word. Shalom is my hope that things are going well for you; shalom is my hope that you are happy. Shalom is my hope that you are secure and blest with friends. Shalom is my hope that you are in harmony, not only with God, but also with your friends, with nature, with yourself. Shalom is a peace that reflects harmony within one’s self, made possible because God is dwelling within that person.

The peace Jesus speaks of comes when we endeavor to do what he is asking of us. Recall at the start of the gospel he said, “Whoever loves me will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our dwelling with him.”

No wonder in the Jerusalem that John spoke of in his vision, recounted in Revelation, there is no temple. God is to be found not in some distant building but in the hearts of those who are faithfully keeping his word. The peace Jesus speaks of can be found when we lay our personal desires aside and allow the Holy Spirit to enrich our faith and guide us. The peace Jesus speaks of will be ours when we endeavor to work for peace by keeping his word instead of using violent means to attain what we want for ourselves.

That became apparent to Paul, Barnabas, and other early Church leaders when confronted with division over the question of circumcision. Many viewed the early Church as a form of Judaism, so they expected Gentile converts to first become Jews. The Jewish religion back then had more to do with laws than beliefs. A Jew didn’t have to believe in the afterlife but he had to faithfully keep the law. The Holy Spirit enabled the early Church leaders to see things differently and to bring peace to a once divided church by focusing on what really mattered, namely keeping Jesus’ word.

The peace that Jesus offers us is linked to our willingness to be true to his word, that is his commandments. By doing so, the Christian can be truly at peace even in the midst of violence or temptation for true peace comes from knowing that God loves us and in turn that prompts us to love others.

I recently read about a farmer who found peace by being true to Jesus’ word. He grew excellent quality wheat and every season he won the award for the best grown in his county. One year a reporter from the local newspaper interviewed him and learned that each spring the man shared his seed with his neighbors so that they too could plant it in their fields.

“How can you afford to share your best wheat seed with your neighbors when they are entering their crops in the competition with yours?” the reporter asked. “Why that’s very simple,” the farmer explained… “The wind picks up pollen from the developing wheat and carries it from field to field. If my neighbors grow inferior wheat, cross-pollination will steadily degrade the quality of all the wheat, including mine. If I am to grow good wheat, I must help my neighbors grow good wheat.”

The reporter realized how the farmer’s explanation also applied to peoples’ lives in the most fundamental way. Those who want to live meaningfully and well must help enrich the lives of others, for the value of a life is measured by the lives it touches. And those who choose to be happy must help others find happiness, for the welfare of each is bound up with the welfare of all.

“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you.” May you leave here, knowing that no matter what ills the world might throw at you, Christ is forever present with you, sustaining you, guiding you, and loving you.

“I, John saw a new heaven and a new earth. The former heaven and the former earth had passed away, and the sea was no more….Behold, I make all things new.”

Thus begins John’s final vision in the book of Revelation. Keep in mind he is writing for a persecuted Church that is outlawed by the Romans, at a time when being a follower of Jesus Christ was punishable by death. What the visionary calls the former heaven and the former earth is the world in which John’s audience was living. The old order, he assures them, will give way to utter newness in which all of the uncertainty and suffering of the present age are no more. Everything that causes them to suffer, namely chaos, evil, sin and death, will be destroyed. The paradise lost when Adam and Eve were expelled from Eden will be restored.

Two thousand years later, we live in a world vastly different from that of the ancient Church yet one much the same since we still have to contend with evil, sin and death. While our lives are not endangered for being followers of Christ, we still deal with the reality of death and dying, which means being separated from our loved ones. Of all the losses, of all the hurts, of all the pains we experience in life, there is none as strong as death. When we take our last breath and cross over the threshold of death, what is in store for us?

As Christians, we take comfort in the words of scripture, which offer us assurance, like what we heard moments ago from John. “Behold, God’s dwelling is with the human race. He will dwell with them and they will be his people.” Many people see death as the end of their existence, the end of life as a continuing function. The Bible has notions of life and death, which may differ from our own, offering us a new insight into what life is.

Life is seen as a community of meaning and death as the act of being excluded from that community. In the Creed, when we talk about the communion of saints, we are professing belief that there are people, once dead, who continue to live. For those who believe in things seen and unseen, there is hope of eternal life, where death is not the last word, but life goes on forever. For God, death means a change in life.

Life is a journey in more ways than one. Some of us have literally journeyed to countless places around the world. Perhaps there is someone here who has never ventured off the island, yet that person too has been on a journey. As Christians, we have a goal. Our final destination, as John tells us, is a new Jerusalem. In that city, God will wipe away every tear, and there will be no more mourning or death, wailing or pain for the old order has passed away. And we will hear God declare, “Behold, I make all things new.”

I am intrigued that the author of Revelation could foresee that some day this world of ours would pass away yet its demise, while not likely to happen in our lifetime, is certainly eminent in the opinion of some either due to global warming or the tragedy of nuclear war. When that happens all evil will be destroyed. I envision God going to work to create a new heaven and a new earth. There will be a new home for humanity, one that the heavenly peace we yearn for will prevail. That will be possible for evil will no longer exist.

Several verses later, John issues a warning that as followers of Christ, we must strive to prepare in this lifetime for life in the new Jerusalem, which means turning away from sin here and now. As Paul said to his audience, “It is necessary for us to undergo many hardships to enter the Kingdom of God.” In other words, there is no smooth road to the new Jerusalem in this lifetime because we are so often assailed by sin and temptations, which is why Paul is urging us to persevere in the faith.

In the gospel, Jesus offers us the antidote for overcoming sin and evil. Consider this his last lesson since he said this at the Last Supper, “I give you a new commandment: love one another. As I have loved you, so you also should love one another. This is how all will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”

Love comes in many shades but in this instance, Jesus is telling us to love one another as he has loved us. That is what makes this a new commandment. Thus we need to consider the many ways he has loved us. Notice through out the gospels how he loved those whom he encountered. We follow his example by repairing what is broken in ourselves, our families, our communities, and in our world. Wherever we find a relationship that is broken or strained, we are to repair it. That act is called forgiveness. The love Jesus speaks of is not simply one of feeling, but is one of acting as well. This love gives us a foretaste of the new Jerusalem.

I received this reflection from a priest friend recently that is worth sharing. “Sometimes it feels like there are so many things in this world that we can’t control. Earthquakes, floods, reality shows. But it’s important to remember the things we can, like forgiveness, second chances, fresh starts. Because the one thing that changes the world from a lonely place to a beautiful place is love. Love, in any of its forms, love gives us hope.”

It was said of Joseph Stalin that if you made one mistake it was like mishandling a detonator, for that was likely to be the last mistake you ever made. We too write at times people off due to a bad experience.  But which one of us would like to be judged for a single moment of our lives?

Think back to Holy Thursday evening, the setting in the courtyard. Peter is hunched around a fire along with others watching the spectacle unfold before them of Jesus being tried by the high priests. Others accused Peter of being one of Jesus’ disciples and three times he flatly denied the charge. When the cock crowed, Jesus turned and looked at Peter, who then wept bitterly for what he had just done.

Who would blame Jesus for writing Peter off as being weak, cowardly and unreliable? He had just set a terrible example for the other apostles. Yet, as we well know, Jesus did not write him off. He didn’t even demote him. Judas’ betrayal was a planned event, carried out in a cold calculating manner. Peter’s denial, however, was not planned; it was a result of weakness not malice. As one who could read hearts, Jesus knew that.

Now we find the two of them by another fire, this time at dawn on the shore of the Sea of Tiberias.  After a long night of fishing in vain, and ready to call it quits, Peter and his companions heeded Jesus’ instructions and threw their heavy net once more back into the sea and this time they were overwhelmed with a catch of 153 large fish. Upon recognizing Jesus, Peter climbed on shore for a conversation that changed his life.

After breakfast, Jesus turned to Peter and asked, “Simon, do you love me more than the others love me?” What a strange question to ask. Hadn’t he proved beyond a shadow of any doubt that he didn’t love him? After all, three times he had denied knowing the Lord. Yet Jesus asked him. “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” And Peter said, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.” He sincerely meant that. He really did love Jesus.

Knowing that strength and weakness can co-exist in the same person, Jesus asked Peter to declare his love publicly since his denial had been in public. “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” Again, Peter responded, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.” And once again, Jesus asked, “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” Distressed that he had been asked three times, Peter replied, “Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.”

Around this campfire, Jesus did more than feed Peter; he commissioned him. “Feed my lambs. Tend my sheep. Feed my sheep.” You could say that was Peter’s penance. Love is the best way to atone for sin. As Peter himself later wrote in his letter, “Love covers a multitude of sins.”

I doubt Peter never forgot the fact that he had denied Jesus yet I doubt it haunted him the way some people are haunted by their sins. Peter learned a great lesson from his fall. He learned that he wasn’t as brave as he thought he was.

Peter also learned a wonderful truth about Jesus. He learned that in spite of his denials, Jesus still loved him and kept no record of Peter’s sins. That love brought Peter back to life. To be loved in one’s goodness is no big deal but to be loved in one’s weakness and sinfulness is an amazing experience. That is what grace is all about.

Peter had the guts to get up again after his fall. As we heard in the first reading, he went on to become a dynamic leader. A leader has to be aware of his weakness. The experience on the beach that morning rid him of pride and enabled him to understand the weakness of others. As he learned, courage can fail us when we least expect. In the end, all of us can be inconsistent in our beliefs. Thus, we must learn to forgive ourselves for our momentary weaknesses and failures.

We are all like Peter. We are not the rocklike character that we would like to be. Instead we are weak at times. We need someone who can understand our weaknesses, and who doesn’t write us off when we fall short. Likewise, someone out there may need you to do the same when they are weak or struggling. We should be ready to extend the same understanding love towards others.

On Facebook, I recently shared this quote from Fr. Ron Rolheiser, who offers this pearl of wisdom, “The human heart is exquisitely fragile. Our judgments need to be gentle, our understanding deep, and our forgiveness wide.”

Jesus wasn’t speaking only to Peter. He is talking to us as well. Do you hear him with your heart? He is telling us, “If you love me, then feed my sheep! Tend my flock!”

We carry out his command as members of his Church. As individuals, as a parish, as part of the Church of Western Washington, we continue the work of Christ, using our time, talent and treasure to share the good news.  The Church in 172 vibrant faith communities tends his flock to build a future full of hope. Last year, we pledged $64,850. You made it possible in the past and I trust you will do so again through the ACA for this is one way we can say to the Lord, “Yes, Lord, I love you. You know that I love you.”