2008

From its earliest days the Church has had its share of scandals. The passage from Acts touches on the first one with its account of Greek widows being slighted. The apostles addressed the issue by ordaining seven men as deacons to serve the faith community.  As demonstrated by Pope Benedict on his visit to America, the Church still struggles with scandals today.

Many Catholics, laity and clergy alike, remain troubled, angered, and disturbed by the misconduct years ago of some priests and religious. Such conduct should not surprise us for no one in ministry is immune to the temptations of sin. Regrettably, some of my brother priests failed to live up to what we can rightly expect of anyone in ministry: living chaste and celibate lifestyles as a reflection that we are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people set apart.

Long before the clergy scandal surfaced in Boston, rocking the Church around the world, our local Church became aware of the tragedy of child sexual abuse. Twenty years ago, when three of our priests were removed from ministry, one was even sent to prison for what he had done. Since then, the Archdiocese of Seattle has endeavored to deal with those whose hearts were troubled by such pain and wrongdoing.  As some of us know personally from what our parish has experienced, there is always room for improvement on their part not only in addressing the wounds left behind but also in calling anyone in ministry to a greater accountability.  For this reason, we are hosting a “safe environment” workshop this afternoon for the staff and those who work with either children or vulnerable adults.

The essence of today’s gospel is this: we need direction in our lives, direction that only Jesus can provide. The church, both laity and clergy alike, is comprised of fragile, sometimes sinful men and women, with God-given free wills to plot and do evil. Sometimes they sin out of malice, and other times, out of loneliness, desire or weakness. After all, the same devil that tempted Judas to betray Jesus will keep working until the end of time, taking advantage of those who have no clear direction of how to find God in their lives.

Without directions to guide us, we can easily get lost in this maze called life. When we get lost on a trip, some of us are wise enough to ask for help. Thomas asked Jesus the question that we find ourselves asking over and over again as we venture through life. “How can we know the way?” Indeed, how can we know which way to go when our hearts are troubled or a difficult choice has to be made?

In reply, Jesus told Thomas, “I am the way and the truth and the life.” Having come from God, his Father, he knows the way. “No one,” Jesus points out, “comes to the Father except through me.” That may sound rather presumptuous, but what Jesus is saying makes sense. God as Father is encountered only through his son, Jesus Christ, for without the son; we cannot meet the Father. Jesus makes us aware of a relationship of unconditional love that cannot be found in any other depiction of God.

Not surprisingly, not everyone agrees with Jesus. Most people want to find God but some venture through life, following their own directions, or directions given them by others, but not those given by Jesus. In the gospels, we find numerous examples of people who wouldn’t follow Jesus for any number of reasons. They found his words impractical and simply ignored him. Even today, many people think that what Jesus has to say can be summed up as nice but out of sync with the times.

The words we hear today are not the words of a dreamer. Jesus came to tell his listeners and us, “This is the way it is folks, if you want to truly find God, this is the way to go. I am the way, and the truth and the life. Come to me through the good news of the gospel, the celebration of the sacraments, the breaking of bread in the Eucharist, and the lessons and truth that I pass on to you through the teachings of the Church.”

For any number of reasons, many former Catholics choose to distance themselves from the Church. Those who cannot or will not accept his message, proclaimed in the gospels and through the Church, are rejecting whom Peter calls the cornerstone.  They could very well find themselves stumbling through life. If they find their hearts troubled, they need to ask themselves, “Which way have I been going? How have I gone astray?” Sometimes pride stops them from fully appreciating all that Jesus comes to offer us.

Their pride reminds me of a beggar who weekly beseeched a wealthy philanthropist for charity. The man listened patiently to the beggar’s tale of woe and always graciously doled out a generous gift. One day, the philanthropist interrupted the beggar and said, “Listen, you know I will continue giving you a nice amount every week. You don’t have to convince me anymore. A little less cringing, a little less whining about your condition, and we would both be happier.” The beggar drew himself up to the full stature of his ragged pride. “My good sir,” he replied indignantly, “I don’t teach you how to be a millionaire; please don’t teach me how to be a beggar.”

Like the beggar, are we too proud to appreciate what Jesus is offering us? He comes to show us to way to the Father, the greatest philanthropist around. Are we following his directions or like Philip, are we still not getting the point of his lessons, going instead our own way?  By following Jesus, who is the way, the truth and the life, we become the “living stones” that Peter speaks of in his letter. This allows our hearts to be filled with a joy that comes only from having an intimate awareness of God as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

Those Dumb Animals

The Book of Genesis, the first book of the Bible tells us that from the creation of the world, God gave human beings dominion over the earth.  We have large brain cases, opposable thumbs, and the ability to communicate in the most sophisticated of ways that animals cannot do.  Our intelligence has built machines great and small that have transformed the face of the earth.

We can therefore, be rather proud of ourselves.  We can look at some of God’s other creatures and think they we are clearly superior.  We are so much better; we are not like those dumb animals that roam the earth looking for food and shelter.  Three in particular can strike us as rather dumb: birds, donkeys, and sheep.

In traditional terms, we think of birds as rather limited in intelligence.  We even have a term for it: “bird brain.”  Birds are generally what are left of the dinosaurs that once ruled the earth eons ago.  And so, they really to do not have much to offer us. Right?

Well, consider this story from the National Geographic written many years ago. After a forest fire in Yellowstone National Park, forest rangers began their trek up a mountain to assess the damage.  One ranger found a bird literally petrified in ashes, parched in a statue-like fashion, on the ground, at the base of a tree.

Somewhat sickened by the eerie sight, the ranger knocked over the bird with a stick. When he gently struck it, three tiny chicks scurried from under their dead mother’s wings.  The loving mother, keenly aware of impending disaster, had carried her offspring to the base of the tree and gathered them under her wings, instinctively knowing that the toxic smoke would rise.  She could have flown to safety, bus she refused to abandon her babies.

When the blaze had arrived, and the heat had scorched her small body, the mother had remained steadfast. Because she had been willing to die, those under the cover of her wings would live.

Now us human beings would never be that stupid, would we?  We know it is better never to stick our necks out, or suffer for someone else, or take a stand.  That might threaten our comfortable lives. Speaking out against injustice would get us in trouble.  Suffering for others would be just too hard.  Oh, those dumb animals.

Then there are donkeys.  We think of them as rather stubborn and stupid. But there is an old farmer’s tale about a donkey that fell into a well.  The animal cried piteously for hours as the farmer tried to figure out what to do.  Being a much smarter human being, he finally decided that the animal was old, and the well needed to be covered up anyway; it just wasn’t worth the trouble to retrieve the donkey.

So the farmer invited all his friends and neighbors to come over and bury the donkey in the well.  They all grabbed a shovel and began to shovel dirt into the well.  At first, the donkey realized what was happened and squealed horribly. Then, to everyone’s amazement, he quieted down. A few shovel loads later, the farmer finally looked down the well.  He was astonished at what he saw.  With each shovel of dirt that hit his back, the donkey was doing something amazing.  He would shake it off and take a step up.

After several hours, there was enough dirt to cover the well, and the donkey stepped up over the edge of the well and happily trotted off.

Now we humans of course would never be that stupid.  After all, the donkey’s first instinct was right. We should just scream for help.  We expect people to see our predicament, drop everything, and help us.  And we know that it is impossible for us to help ourselves.  Oh, those dumb animals.

And then there are sheep.  Not very bright creatures either.  Mostly good for their coats, a great meal with garlic and mint jelly when they are very young, and that is just about it. Jesus talks about them in our reading from the Gospel from John. Being a sheep in Palestine two thousand years ago wasn’t easy.  The food you ate was mostly brush that spread out against a steep, rocky plain.  Unlike modern sheep, they were kept more for their wool than their meat, so they had a chance to live many years.

But without the help of a good, vigilant, reliable shepherd, sheep could easily go down steep embankments and get lost or stuck in rocky ground, nooks, and crannies.  Many times at nightfall in the summer time, shepherds would have to build makeshift walls of stone with openings for the sheep to go through in order to be gathered for the night.

Jesus talks about this in the parable we read this morning.  The shepherds were literally gates themselves. They would lie down across the openings in the walls for the sheep. As the sheep would step up to get through the walls, the shepherds could count them and see if any were injured.  Like our second reading from the first letter of St. Peter, the shepherds would then heal the wounds of the sheep and be better able to protect them from harm.

Now we human beings would never be so dense.  Sheep think that it is better to be together, but we know that is not true. We should always look out for number one first.  We don’t believe working together saves not just others but us as well. Better to get ours first then worry about others.  Or not worry about others at all. Oh, those dumb animals.

But brothers and sisters, are we really so smart?  Like the mother bird, Our Lord gave up everything, suffered an excruciating death, so that we might have the abundant life of faith and eventually eternal life.  Jesus, through his model of life that inspired the faith of the Church, has given so many the courage, the strength, the grace to overcome the donkey’s dilemma, to brush off the dirt thrown at us and step up to a life of service and works of mercy.

And yes, Jesus is the Good Shepherd, who left us Himself through prayer, the sacraments, and Scripture to build up our communities. Our first reading from the Acts of the Apostles reminds us that Jesus left us with the gifts of the Holy Spirit, so that we might be part of a communion of believers. These believers the Lord protects from harm and the reality of His loving presence heals the wounds of our souls. For Christians have chosen to live together in love of God and others, against the corruption of the selfish, individualistic life of our secular culture.

So you see, in God’s creation, there is a purpose for everything, even those dumb animals. They often reflect the behavior of Jesus himself. Sometimes it seems the animals even appear to trust in God’s love. Gee, maybe those dumb animals are not so dumb after all.
 

Luke tells us Cleopas and his companion were downcast. Can you blame them? Their leader, Jesus, had been brutally killed and their dream of a liberated Israel shattered. That morning in the city they had heard the ludicrous news that some women had seen angels announcing that Jesus was alive, but that wasn’t enough to keep them in town.

Cleopas and his companion had, for whatever reason opted to return home to Emmaus instead of sticking around to find out more about the angel’s message. Some biblical scholars speculate that this symbolized their choice to go back to their old ways. Along the way, they encounter a man whom they did not recognize who engages them in a lively dialogue. One of them said something that catches my attention. “We were hoping that he would be the one to redeem Israel.” Little did they realize that their dream had indeed come true, but not in the manner they were expecting.

In response, this stranger scolds them, “Oh, how foolish you are! How slow of heart to believe all that the prophets spoke!” Still, these two disciples did not get the picture! His rebuke brings to mind the image of blinders. How often do we have blinders on which prevent us from seeing beyond what we want to see? I suspect more often than we care to admit.

When some people become disenchanted or disillusioned with what the Church has said or done, they walk away, like these two disciples did. Some quit attending Mass altogether.  They may be blaming God for their misfortune, such as an illness or an economic hardship or the death of a loved one or dismayed by some human element of the Church. Others will change to a different denomination, drawn perhaps by a charismatic preacher or a friend who has done the same thing.

What they leave behind is the opportunity to do what we have been doing since the first Easter in Emmaus, recognizing Jesus in the breaking of bread. If asked why they left, some former Catholics lament that they got nothing out of receiving communion. Might you be feeling the same way? Do you see communion simply as a time to come forth along with everyone else to receive a scrap of bread and a sip of wine or do you recognize Jesus in the breaking of bread as Cleopas and his companion did?

Perhaps Jesus could accuse some of us of being slow of heart as well in believing all that he has told us through the prophets and the apostles. If the celebration of the Mass has little appeal to you, consider this. Have you invited Jesus to stay with you? Consider this. If these two disciples had not invited Jesus to stay with them, he would have ventured on his way and they would have remained blind to all that had really happened.

The same holds true for us. For Jesus to become real, we must first invite him into our lives, a conscious choice that calls for faith and hospitality. Hospitality means making time for someone else. For God, we do that best through prayer and scripture. To better prepare yourself for Mass, I suggest that you take time to reflect on the readings beforehand.

So what does it take to recognize the Lord? The name for this sacrament provides a clue: gratitude. Our time together is called Eucharist, which in Greek means thanksgiving.  Yet how appreciative are we for what we have? When we are not thankful, we could easily grow resentful and envious, and that would definitely blind us to the presence of Jesus in our lives, a lesson one young woman learned from her sister in a way she never expected.

Corrie ten Boom caught the attention of the world with her story, The Hiding Place. Arrested for sheltering Jews in their home in Amsterdam in 1944, she and her sister, Betsie, were sent to a concentration camp. They were assigned to Barracks 28, a dismal building with broken windows, backed-up plumbing, rancid bedding and fleas.

Betsie constantly urged her sister to be grateful for all God’s gifts. “We must thank God for assigning us to the same barracks, and for the Bible which they allowed us to keep.” Her list went on and on. Corrie kept agreeing until her sister said fleas and there she objected. Betsie replied, “Scripture says we are to give thanks in all circumstances and fleas are part of this place where God has put us.” Later, after she was liberated, Corrie learned that Barracks 28 had more freedom than the other barracks did because it was crawling with fleas. For that reason, the Nazi supervisors had been reluctant to enter.

Perhaps due to circumstances in our lives, some of us may be feeling hard pressed to be grateful, so in our anger, we remain blind to the presence of Jesus in our midst. Maybe we feel disillusioned, as did these two disciples, because God isn’t answering our prayers in the way we want them to be answered. But walking away from God is not the solution.

Instead, if we want to be redeemed, we need to walk toward God. That is, we need to make more time for prayer in our lives, beyond the Mass. That can be done in so many ways, from sitting quietly and meditating, to taking a walk and savoring God’s presence in the beauty of creation, to picking up the Bible and reflecting on his divine message. Our hearts will burn within us when we invite Jesus to stay with us, so that he can have the chance to open our eyes to his awesome unconditional love.
 

Imagine yourself standing up here blindfolded. I have just placed a bucket in front of you. Without peeking, how can you tell if the bucket is empty of full of water? You could reach into the bucket to feel if there is any water in it. In other words, you could experience first hand if the bucket is empty or not.

Now if you didn’t want to get your hands wet, you could throw something into the bucket. If you heard a splash then you know the bucket isn’t empty. This approach to picking up knowledge is called reasoning.

A third way to discern if there is water in the bucket would be to ask someone you trust. That person could then look in the bucket and tell you if it is empty or full. This approach to learning is called believing.

Now, which of these three methods do we use most often for learning? Do we learn largely by experiencing things with our senses, by reasoning them with our minds, or by believing what others have told us?

If your answer is believing, you are right. Most of our knowledge comes from believing what others tell us. Perhaps we accept as much as 80% of our knowledge on the testimony of others. Much of our learning has been gained through the efforts of those who believe in what they have taught us.

For example, few of us have traveled around the world. Yet, we know that the world is round, not flat. Much, if not all, of what we know about any distant land is gleaned from what others have told us or from what we have learned with the use of books or films.  By and large, we are apt to believe what we’ve learned until something comes along to disprove the facts.

What is true of the way we acquire regular knowledge is even truer of the way we gain religious knowledge. Most of our religious knowledge is gained from believing what the scriptures tell us or from what others have told us. We are gathered here because what we have heard from others or read in scripture has commanded our attention sufficiently enough for us to come and see who this Jesus, now risen from the dead, really is.

For the sake of those who would not have the opportunity to personally experience the risen Lord, John shares the story of doubting Thomas in his gospel. For whatever reason we will never know, Thomas was not present with the others when Jesus first appeared to them in the upper room. He was understandably skeptical when the others told him what had happened. Wouldn’t you be just as doubtful, had you been in his sandals?

A week later, Thomas was with them when Jesus appears again. Notice that Jesus never criticized Thomas for doubting the other disciples. Instead, he said, “Do not be unbelieving, but believe.” Jesus knew the value of doubt as a tool for deepening one’s faith. When Thomas professes his belief, Jesus adds, “Have you come to believe because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and have believed.”

Aside from Thomas and the disciples, few people have had the chance to see firsthand the nail prints or touch Jesus’ wounds, but through the ages many, like you and me, have been moved to believe in the risen Lord on the faith of those who have shared the good news with them. While we do not have the opportunity to put our hands into Jesus’ side as Thomas did, we can and do put our trust in the testimony of scripture. We can go one step further and use our gift of reason to confirm what scripture tells us.

For example, could the early Church that we witness in the Acts of the Apostles have really existed had Jesus not risen from the dead? Something incredible had to have happened to transform these followers of Jesus Christ otherwise the impact of the apostles on history would have been short lived. Two thousand years later, the resurrection of Jesus continues to impact us.

When I think back on the number of classes I have taken in my lifetime, I confess that I have forgotten much of what I have learned for the simple reason that I have given little thought to them. I haven’t studied French since my freshman year of college forty years ago, so don’t count on me to accurately translate the menu in a French restaurant!

The same holds true for our religious knowledge. We are continually urged to grow in our faith through an ongoing deepening awareness of Jesus Christ and our faith through prayer, worship and study. That makes sense. The less we think about our faith, the more distant we could find ourselves from Christ. The more distant we become from Christ, the more likely we are to become indifferent to what Christ has truly done for us and his message of divine mercy. Look at it this way, think of the friends you have lost touch with over the years. A friendship that is not sustained eventually becomes a distant memory. That is a painful lesson we have learned from experience.

Opportunities abound for us to learn more about our faith.  Classes will be offered this spring on the gospel of Matthew and the early church. The Sunday forum is another means to update one’s faith.  It is never too late to learn more about our faith.

Poor Thomas often gets a bum rap for doubting his fellow disciples yet he grew in his faith, becoming, so far as we know, the first to proclaim Jesus as his Lord and God. May his example prompt us to question our faith so that in this Easter season in the classroom of our church we can see for ourselves that doubt can lead us to an even deeper faith than we ever imagined.   
 

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.