Fr. Rick Spicer

For us, this is the third Sunday of Easter, but in the Gospel, the setting is still the first Easter evening. We find two disciples recounting what had taken place and how Jesus was made known to them in the breaking of bread. They had encountered the risen Jesus while walking home to Emmaus. They then hurried back seven miles to Jerusalem to share with the other disciples what had happened to them.

As they were speaking, so we are told, Jesus stood in their midst and said, “Peace be with you.” Initially, they were all startled and thought they were seeing a ghost. Who could blame them, in spite of what they had just heard? Wouldn’t you think the same if Jesus appeared here in our midst? They were seeing something no one had ever seen before. This wasn’t anything like what they had seen when Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead.

And if he did stand here, most likely he would ask us the same questions. “Why are you troubled? And why do questions arise in your hearts?” Understandably, their hearts were troubled. Their dream of the messianic kingdom they had perceived during the three years they journeyed with Jesus was now shattered. They were hiding for fear that what happened to Jesus would happen to them. In short, nothing made sense on thzt first Easter, so quite likely, they had many unanswered questions.

Then, like any patient teacher, Jesus once again explained his mission and theirs, putting the pieces together. Luke summarized it by telling his readers that repentance for the forgiveness of sins would be preached in his name to all the nations, beginning from Jerusalem.

The disciples finally got the message as to what manner of kingdom Jesus had been speaking of all along. Not a kingdom to replace the earthly Romans, but a kingdom to make God’s will and love known to others. They heard and responded as we learned in the passage from Acts where we find Peter urging the crowd that had demanded the execution of Jesus to repent and be converted, so that their sins could be wiped away.

Years later, John pleads for his readers to sin no more. He adds that if we do sin, we have an advocate with God, Jesus Christ, the righteous one. John tells us the way to know Jesus is to keep his commandments. “Whoever keeps his word, the love of God is perfected in him.”

Two thousand years later, we are here, serving as witnesses to what Jesus proclaimed to his disciples on that first Easter. Now you might not think of yourself as a witness in that you aren’t inclined to follow the example of the apostles and literally preach a message of repentance to others, yet each time you celebrate the art of forgiveness, that is what you are doing.

History is full of examples of people who have used their own talents and gifts to preach Jesus’ message of repentance. Did you, for example, ever see Steven Speilberg’s haunting film, Schindler’s List? Oskar Schindler, a German war profiteer and black market dealer, devised a scheme to ransom his Jewish workers who had turned his enamel ware factory in Krakow into a gold mine. He then spent his fortune buying the freedom of some 1100 Jews, sparing them from the gas chambers.

When the war ended, his Jews were finally free. They became models of selfless forgiveness. In one unforgettable scene, they literally scrape the gold from one man’s fillings to make a ring for Schindler. Inside the ring were inscribed the words, “Whoever saves one life, saves the world.”

The kingdom of God is about saving the world, one life at a time, each in our own way. With our own deeds and words, we can bring the peace of Christ to others and save the world.

You do this by working with others, by belonging to a church that has as its mission making God’s kingdom real in our world. Our church, from the parish level on up, does countless things from giving comfort to the sick, help to the poor, aid to the homeless, and assisting those seeking to serve the Church in ordained ministry are a few examples of what our Church does.

Next weekend, for example, you will have the opportunity to listen to Larry Jesmer preach his first homily as a newly ordained deacon, a reality that was made possible in part because people like you funded the annual Catholic appeal in the past. Altogether, the annual appeal funds 63 different ministries and programs of the archdiocese through the generous support of parishioners like you through out Western Washington. We are able to carry out the principles of our Catholic mission of preaching, teaching and serving because of your kind response. This appeal provides every Catholic an opportunity to give that helping hand which figuratively and literally saves lives.

Nobody is being asked to give beyond their means, yet if every one gives, our parish goal of $41,266 can be readily met. One reason for the increase over last year’s goal is the need to replenish the priests’ retirement fund.

I encourage you to join me and many other fellow Catholics in supporting the appeal this year. Prayerfully consider in the coming week what you can pledge. Please consider making a gift of a $1 a day, that is, $365, which is less than a latte a day, an affordable gift when paid over a period of time. On behalf of the many who will be touched by your caring and sharing, thank you! I look forward to hearing from every one in the parish.

With our words and deeds, we can make a difference in the lives of others. Like Oskar, we can save the world by saving one life.

A young college student, considered by many to be an intellectual elitist, once announced to some of his friends that he would believe nothing that he could not understand. Another student, who lived on a farm nearby, turned to the intellectual and commented, “As I drove to campus this morning, I passed a field in which some sheep were grazing. Do you believe me?

“Sure,” replied the young man. “Well, not far from the sheep, some calves were chewing on fresh grass,” the student-farmer added. “Do you believe that?”

“Yeah, why not?” the intellectual replied. “Well, not too far down the road, I noticed a gaggle of geese feeding. “Do you still believe me?” asked the student-farmer.

“I guess so,” came the reply. “Well,” added the student-farmer, “the grass that the sheep ate will turn into wool; the grass the calves ate will turn into hair; and the grass that the geese ate will turn into feathers. Do you believe this?”

“Sure I do,” the all too-smart student answered.

“But do you understand it?” “Not really,” the intellectual replied, somewhat puzzled. “You know,” added the student-farmer, “if you live long enough, you will find that there are a great many things you believe without understanding.”

Because he could not understand what was happening before the eyes of the other disciples, doubting Thomas, as we call him, was reluctant to believe what he heard from them about Jesus. Who could blame him for doubting what they had said? Jesus is raised from the dead? But, that is not possible! He died and was buried. “I will never believe it without probing the nail marks in his hands!” Thomas insisted.

A week later, Jesus stands in his presence and he invites Thomas to probe his wounds. “Do not be unbelieving, but believe!” Thomas quickly responded, “My Lord and my God!”

Thomas’ story is important to us because he represents all of us who were not there when Jesus first appeared to the disciples in Galilee on that first Easter evening. Like Thomas, we are confronted with the testimony of the first witnesses who left us word of something that totally changed their lives.  Like Thomas, we want to see the truth firsthand. The whole point of this gospel passage is not that Thomas doubted or obtained the proof he once demanded.  Nothing here tells us that Thomas actually touched Jesus at all. Most likely, he never understood how the unthinkable could have happened. What matters is that he believed in what happened and so can we.

Instead of applauding Thomas for what he believed, we remember him for doubting as though there is something terribly wrong with being doubtful so far as faith is concerned. Yet, faith and doubt go hand in hand much like salt and pepper, night and day, hot and cold, or black and white.

Many of us are uneasy with doubt. If we entertain feelings of doubt, we presume something to be wrong with our faith and begin to have second thoughts.

Doubting, however, is part of being human. Within each of us, there are great areas of doubt, wide swatches of insecurity, and deep wells of bafflement. We may hide them, smother them, or suffocate them, but feelings of doubt can creep up at any moment, as they did for Thomas.

Doubt can hit us anywhere. We sometimes doubt ourselves, our talents, self-worth, our ability to cope with life in general. Perhaps we doubt the choices we have made in life, such as the person we married or the career we pursued.  Or we doubt other people, wondering if they love us or accept us for who we are.

Feelings of doubt can just as readily enter the realm of our faith odyssey. God may sometimes seem so distant, prompting us to question his love or even his existence, especially when our prayers appear to go unanswered. If the thought has ever nagged you that maybe there is no God, then welcome to the club. Faith and doubt can and often do feed off each other. Faith leads to doubt and doubt can create deeper faith. Just remember that another word for doubt is question.

There is no need to fear the process. If anything, we should be concerned if we never questioned, challenged or explored our faith. Unquestioned faith eventually becomes untended faith that in turn becomes nonexistent faith, much like a garden overgrown with weeds.

In his Asian journals, Thomas Merton writes, “Faith means doubt. Faith is not the suppression of doubt. It is the overcoming of doubt, and you overcome doubt by going through it. The man of faith who has never experienced doubt is not a man of faith.” What both Thomas, the apostle, and Thomas Merton discovered is that one must go through the realm of doubt in order to arrive at the certitude that God is very much in our midst, risen from the dead.

Whatever our doubts and hesitations have been, we come today in the hope that we can grow in God’s love, be a community of peace and appropriately respond to the poor.  Our understanding will always be limited, but we can see the proof of our Christian faith and the love that shines from believers who know the power of the risen Lord in their lives. Like doubting Thomas, they have discovered that the faith in Jesus Christ is a journey, not of the mind, but of the heart.
 

My friends, the peace of the risen Lord be with you. Tonight/this morning we celebrate an incredible moment in history, the resurrection of Jesus Christ. Along with Mary Magdalene, Mary, the mother of James, and Salome, we grasp the reality that the tomb of Jesus is empty. The incredible evidence before us reveals that not only is Jesus human; he is also divine.

What literally took place during the night cannot be explained. Like the other evangelists, Mark does not tell us what actually happened before the women arrived at the tomb. Those who cannot believe what occurred offer any number of explanations: the body was stolen from the tomb, or he was drugged from the wine that had been given him, appearing to be dead when they took him down from the cross and placed him in the tomb. But the story Mark tells us has stood the test of time. The Lord has been raised! Those who saw the risen Christ never altered their testimony even when threatened with death.

Why should such a story matter to us? The resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth gives us reason to believe that life is more than the span of time from the womb to the tomb. Until Jesus came on the scene, the Jews envisioned the Messiah as one who would liberate them from the oppression of the Romans, but Jesus kept telling his followers that his kingdom was not of this world.

Rising from the dead, Jesus left evidence that our time here would be a stepping stone to a new life beyond the threshold of death. What he said in those few years while roaming the shores of Galilee and the hills of Judea were not empty promises or false hopes. He indeed came back from the dead to free us from the oppression of sin and suffering. His resurrection validated his claim and now his followers were beginning to get the message.

What Mark tells us in this gospel passage is more than just the punch line to a dramatic tale. The resurrection of Jesus Christ, evidenced by his empty tomb, is the heart of our Christian faith. When you think about it, none of the gospels explain the resurrection; rather, the resurrection explains the gospels.  Unable to ascertain how this happened, all the evangelists can do is tell us the reaction of those who saw the empty tomb and the good news that they would see the risen Lord.

Picture the women at sunrise, grieving and apprehensive, as they made their way to the tomb to complete the burial of Jesus with spices they had purchased the night before. Who would roll back the large stone for us from the entrance to the tomb? For them that seemed like such an impossible task.

Their dilemma brings to mind a timely question. How many unmovable stones do we have in our lives? What has troubled you in recent weeks? Perhaps you have been struggling with making ends meet, now that you are either underemployed or unemployed due to the ongoing economic recession. You wonder where the money is going to come from to pay the next mortgage bill or power bill or medical bill. Or you are struggling with a life-threatening illness.  For whatever reason, you feel apprehensive about your future. You have pushed and pushed against the stones in your life and nothing seems to be budging.

Maybe you doubt your self-worth because of what you have done or failed to do in the past or the mistakes you have made. Your baby was aborted or given up for adoption for any number of reasons and that leaves you still feeling wounded. You were abused, physically, verbally, or sexually, perhaps even by someone you once trusted. You have exchanged hurt words with a spouse, a child, a neighbor, or co-worker. Words or actions you now regret and wish you could take back, but pushing the stone of forgiveness seems to be so futile.

The one who emerged from the tomb on the first Easter morning died on the cross, bearing our sins and trials. He emerged, understanding the worries, anxieties and fears, not only of the apostles and the women who came to his empty tomb, but also yours and mine 2000 years later.

My friends, Jesus is no stranger to our human condition. Shortly before his arrest in the Garden of Olives, he agonized at length in prayer. Could he do what was being asked of him? Despite how he felt, as Mark tells us elsewhere in his gospel, Jesus also said to his Father, “Not what I will but what you will.”  When the time came for his arrest, Jesus surrendered instead of fleeing. He knew that in the hands of his Father, he need not worry, and neither should we.

While we are very much alive physically, some of us may still feel entombed emotionally or spiritually. Faith in the risen Lord enables us to emerge from our tombs of worry, doubt, and fear. St. Clement of Alexandria put it this way, “Christ has turned all our sunsets into dawns.”

Yes, something extraordinary happened that Sunday morning in Jerusalem so long ago. Jesus escaped the grip of death, leaving behind an empty tomb to stay with us, even those of us who remain filled with doubt and skepticism.

In my quiet time after communion, I usually recall the prayer of Zechariah. Its closing line sums up for me the promise of Easter. “In the tender compassion of our God, the dawn from on high will break upon us…to shine on those who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death…and to guide our feet into the way of peace.”

My friends, a blessed Easter to you! Not just on this day, but throughout this season of fifty days, may you always be filled with the peace of our risen Lord.
 

“It is finished.” What is finished? That Jesus no longer had to endure any more of the brutal suffering that he had been subjected to since his arrest in the garden? With his dying breath, one could say so, but I suspect Jesus had something else on his mind as he breathed his last. The passage from Hebrews captures for me the sense of mission accomplished.  “Son though he was, he learned obedience from what he suffered and when he was made perfect, he became the source of eternal salvation for all who obey him.”

Being fully human, Jesus had the opportunity to say “No,” to what happened. After the Last Supper, he went out to the Kidron Valley to where there was a garden. What if he had chosen to stay in the Upper Room instead? Perhaps he would have avoided being arrested but he knew he had no choice but to follow his Father’s will. Without hesitation, he ventured forth, allowing others to arrest him. When Peter tried to intervene, Jesus stopped him. “Shall I not drink the cup that my Father has given me?”

Hours later, when being quizzed by Pontius Pilate, Jesus never flinched. Instead, he asserted, “My kingdom does not belong to this world…For this I was born and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth.  Everyone who belongs to the truth listen to my voice.”

Might he have been spared had he recanted the accusation of others that he claimed to be king of the Jews? Perhaps Pilate would have declared a mistrial and released him then and there. That is a moot question for Jesus never would have denied who he was. Insisting that he could find no guilt in Jesus, Pilate then presented him to the crowds. “Behold the man!”  The crowds clamored, “Crucify him, crucify him!”  And so Pilate did.

Being the teacher that he was, Jesus knew that providing an example was the ultimate lesson he could give his followers. His unwavering obedience for some of us may be a mystery. Given that we live in a society that promotes a “me-first” mindset, the value of obedience is hard for some of us to grasp. Too often, we disobey, opting to have things our way instead of suffering so that God’s way prevails. I say often, because even once is once too often. All it takes is one grave sin to deprive us of God’s gift of salvation.

A teacher can only teach so much. At some point the lesson is done and the students then make the choice to learn the lesson or not, So, we find Jesus on the cross, saying, “It is finished.” As though he is telling us, I am done. Now the rest is up to you.

What is the point of his unwavering obedience? When we obey the Father, we have much to gain, namely the gift of salvation. We save ourselves not only from the pains of hell, but also from the consequences of sin in this lifetime: the hurt, the injury, the mistrust that result from placing our needs first instead of following the example of the master teacher.

Are we striving to do all that the Father is asking of us? When we do, then sin and evil no longer control our lives. If we surrender to the Father’s will, as Jesus did, we shall find peace in this life and the life to come. That is the message of Good Friday.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer, the great German theologian, who was condemned to death by none other than Adolf Hitler a month before WWII ended, once said, “Only he who believes is obedient and only he who is obedient believes.” Obedience to God is possible when one has the gift of faith. Paradoxically, faith grows when we obey God. With his ultimate example of love on the cross, our savior breathed his last and expired. May his final act inspire us to take his lesson to heart.
 

Perhaps you are thinking to yourself, “What was that gospel all about?” If so, I wouldn’t blame you one bit.  Some Greeks said to Philip, “Sir, we would like to see Jesus.” Philip took their simple plea to Andrew.  We have no clue if the Greek pilgrims ever met Jesus yet their request sums up our deepest longings as Christians, doesn’t it? But if we are to see Jesus, then we had better listen to what Jesus said to both Philip and Andrew.

Instead of reaching out to greet his visitors, Jesus gives a reply, which seems to makes little sense. “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. Amen, amen I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains just a grain of wheat; but if it dies, it produces much fruit.”  I know he isn’t giving us a basic lesson in gardening 101, so what’s going on behind the scene that we are oblivious to?  With just days to go before his arrest, Jesus knows that he has come to a cross road. If he accepts the will of his Father, the time of his death is near.

This insight that a grain of wheat must fall to the earth is not just for him. Intending this message for anyone who wishes to see him, Jesus goes on to say, “Whoever loves his life loses it, and whoever hates his life this world will preserve it for eternal life.” By the time he finishes his spiel, Philip and Andrew may have been shaking their heads and muttering, “This is Greek to us!”

Jesus certainly isn’t suggesting that we hate ourselves, so what is his point? This isn’t so much an anti-life statement but an anti-world one when we view the world as anything that distracts us from God. Think back to the passage from Jeremiah where we heard of the Lord talking of a new covenant that would be made with the House of Israel. A covenant that would not be written on sandstone tablets, unlike the covenant he had with Moses, but one that would be written in their hearts. Like a tattoo, God hopes that placing this new covenant in the heart of his people would leave a lasting imprint on them and us.

In scripture, the heart is portrayed as the center of our lives; the seat of our desires, emotions, thoughts and plans; the primary arena in which we meet God and in which God endeavors to cause change, enlightenment and new life within us.

Under this new covenant, God’s laws are to be seen as internal rules and responsibilities that we, as people of God, have made a vital and necessary part of our personal principles. When we honor this covenant, we then respond to the world around us out of love, not self-centeredness or the need for self-preservation.

Have you ever seen the movie, Rainman? Tom Cruise played the role of a selfish, hustling salesman named Charlie Babbit and Dustin Hoffman played the role of his older autistic brother, Raymond, who lives in an institution. Charlie did not even know he had an older brother, much less an autistic one, and the only reason he even cares is that their father had died, leaving three million dollars to Raymond and an old 1949 Buick to hotshot Charlie. Charlie spends much of his energy and time trying to cheat Raymond out of his inheritance. After all, how would a guy like that know what to do with all that money?

In the course of the movie, against his will, Charlie begins to care for Raymond. Before he knows it, for the first time in his life, he is thinking more about another person than of himself. That to me is an example of what Jesus meant by hating our lives in this world.  Slowly, Charlie begins to die to self and live for Raymond.

At one point he has to make a decision to do so, very much like our preoccupied Jesus had to. In doing so, he becomes a different person, a whole person, or as we would say in religious language, Charlie became redeemed. He lost his life for Raymond’s sake only to find it for his own.

Like Jesus and Charlie Babbitt, we cannot avoid making decisions. That is what life is all about. Many of them, however, are made unconsciously, that is, without much thought. We let them slide into self-serving actions. Pulling us out of such preoccupations, this gospel jolts us back to reality and makes us face up to questions we don’t care to face. Who are we? By whose values do we live our lives? Are we committed to the covenant that God has inscribed in our hearts? Or are our choices shaped by the values of our secular world? What means so much to us that we are willing to die for it?

Countless martyrs, even in recent times, have died for their faith. Could you ever do the same if you had to make a choice? Few of us would ever have to make such a life-threatening choice, but what about dying to our own will if that is what it takes to save a struggling marriage or a wounded relationship? What must we let go of in order to grow in our relationship with God and others? Often, the answer is our pride, our self centeredness, or our refusal to seek help. Unless we die to our own will, we cannot really ever see Jesus.

Lent is a decision making time for us. That is the situation Philip and Andrew found Jesus in. He was trying to discern which way to go. Was he ready to fully commit himself to what his heavenly Father was asking of him? Soon thereafter, as we know, he would be arrested, condemned, and executed. In giving totally of himself, Jesus would regain his life in the resurrection.

Like the Greek pilgrims, we seek the Lord but before we can find him, we are being challenged to answer one of life’s most fundamental questions; not Hamlet’s “To be or not to be?” but one posed often by Jesus, “To love or not to love?” One does not need a degree in philosophy to comprehend that we have no choice in the matter if ultimately we want to “bear much fruit” and live life fully.