2011

Easter is the high point of the church year. No Sunday, no feast compares, not even Christmas. Without the resurrection, no one would have celebrated the birth of Jesus. Instead, both his birth and his death would have faded from the world’s memory.

Pope Benedict observes, “Whether Jesus was or whether he also is…this depends on the Resurrection.”

What literally happened is anyone’s guess for there were no witnesses to the actual event. But something did happen. The shroud of Turin, long believed to be the burial cloth of Jesus, has been carefully scrutinized by scientists. Trying to account for the negative image scorched on the linen and the nature of the blood stains, one non Christian examiner said, “The only way I can account for these phenomena is that, to leave the blood stains intact and to produce this kind of image, the body must have somehow passed through the cloth.”

Last night at the vigil, we heard dramatic, detailed filled stories…the beginning of creation, the waters of the Red Sea drowning the Egyptians and the waters of prophets quenching our thirst for life. Today, Matthew provides us with a dramatic detailed resurrection story. A great earthquake happens; perhaps an aftershock of the one that occurred when Jesus died days before, an angel appears like lightning. The guards were stunned, becoming like dead men. This same angel rolls back the stone, not to let Jesus out, but to let the women look in. They could see that the tomb was already empty.

The empty tomb which they and later the apostles found doesn’t prove anything, although an empty tomb is a necessary condition for resurrection faith. An ordinary morning soon turned into an earth shattering event. Jesus’ resurrection is a seismic shift in the way we see the world. Like moving from thinking about the world is flat to understanding that it is round, Jesus’ resurrection opens dimensions of life that one day we will see face to face.

What makes his resurrection so earth shattering is that no one expected it. Yes, Jesus said that he would rise again, but what he said was incomprehensible, like black ink on black paper. The gospels relate many instances when the disciples did not grasp what Jesus meant. That doesn’t mean that they didn’t believe in the resurrection. In those days, some Jewish believers looked and hoped for the resurrection, but they expected it to happen at the end of time when all peoples would be raised up together, all at once, to share in the new heaven and the new earth. No one expected it to happen to just one person so soon.

When the women went to the tomb, they were going for the same reason we visit cemeteries…to get a sense of closeness to someone who has died. They didn’t expect to encounter the risen Lord. Maybe they were looking for some peace and quiet after that godforsaken Friday, but peace and quiet was the last thing they got. Their world was shaken to the core by the angel’s message, “He is not here, for he has been raised.”

The death and resurrection of Jesus is earth shaking in the truest sense of the word. Like two plates colliding, Jesus’ resurrection is the meeting of God’s world and our world. The God who was silent on Good Friday is now having the last word, and it is a word of victory. That cruel death on the cross did not end Jesus’ life or what his life means. Now raised from the dead, Jesus lives for us all. The resurrection means that sin, death, and evil have been defeated like the Egyptians drowned in the Red Sea. The resurrection means that streams of living water are flowing to us.  Victorious over death; Jesus lives in our midst. The kingdom of God is now on earth as it is in heaven.

That reality escapes us for we live today in a culture of fear, nurtured by media that conduct an up to the minute feeding frenzy on every horror in our world. Watching the news, we are left feeling that death seems far more victorious than life: another day of bloodshed in the Middle East, gruesome details of a gang shooting in a shopping mall, headlines about a murder-suicide. This kind of fear can blind us to the light of God’s truth.

“Do not be afraid,” the angel told the women when they arrived at the tomb. Fearful yet overjoyed, they left to tell the apostles what they had seen but before going far, they encountered Jesus. He greets the two Marys with the same words the angel used, “Do not be afraid.”

These words did not entirely dispel their confusion. The risen Jesus did not lay down a clear path for their immediate future. They had no clue how the story of Easter was going to unfold, still the words, “Do not be afraid,” gave them hope and comfort, inspiring them to remain faithful to their beliefs and hopes about Jesus and his mission of building the kingdom of God on earth.

On this Easter, as he did on the first Easter, the risen Jesus offers us the same message of comfort and hope. “Do not be afraid.” The problems in our personal lives, our church, our country, the economy, and our world will not be solved overnight and disappear. Because of them, some of us may still remain confused and discouraged amid what seems like chaos to us. But the promise of Easter is that in the end, life will triumph over death, good conquers evil, and hope overcomes despair.

Easter is more than an event; it is also an attitude, a perspective, an outlook on life, the turning point of God’s world. By his resurrection, our sorrow is exchanged for Jesus’ joy. Our broken lives are transformed by his forgiveness and new life. Our lives are made new. No wonder, Jesus says to us what he said to the women when they met, “Do not be afraid.”

“Ecco homo! Behold the man!” Pilate exclaimed, “Look at your king!” There stood Jesus, scourged, draped in a cloak of royal purple with a crown of thorns. Jesus’ royal stature dominated this astounding trial. At first, Pilate appealed to the crowds in sympathy, then later in ridicule, he jested, “Behold your king!”

Behold him, they did, demanding not pardon but death. “Take him away, take him away! Crucify him!” What an about face from the triumphant entry Jesus had experienced when he rode into Jerusalem, mounted on a donkey a few days before. The crowds had waved palms and thrown their cloaks on the ground, proclaiming, “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord.” He whom they had greeted wildly was now being scorned.

Pilate asked, “Shall I crucify your king?” The chief priests responded, “We have no king but Caesar!” Their answer must have startled Pilate, perhaps even taken his breath away. Intent on killing Jesus, they had just denied a fundamental precept of their faith that no one was their king but God alone. Had we been standing in the crowd that day, would we have made the same response? “We have no king but Caesar!” By definition, a king is seen as a ruler, so to rephrase the question, who rules our lives, Caesar or Christ? Who is our king?

What matters most to you? Many values long considered sacrosanct have fallen by the wayside in recent years. Values that were once deemed immoral have become legally allowed and socially acceptable such as euthanasia, abortion, and fornication. Because we have become tolerant of values that run contrary to the teachings of our faith, life is not so sacred, much less safe.

If Jesus were our king, he would say to us what he said to Pilate, “Every one who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.” He would challenge us for holding values that are not true to God’s commandments. Caesar may be long gone but the decadent spirit of ancient Rome lives on in a society where many have abandoned the gospel of Jesus Christ in pursuit of selfish pleasures or worldly goals that they think will provide a better life. Is it the values of a pagan world that shapes your life or the gospel of Christ the King?

The English poet, TS Eliot observed, “The dripping blood our only drink, the bloody flesh our only food, in spite of that, we call this Friday good.” Yes, we call this day good, because to spare the world any more suffering, Jesus died on the cross. His death is intended to be our exodus from the slavery of sin. Before he was put on trial, he shared the good news of salvation, teaching a gospel of love, compassion, mercy, and forgiveness. He gave his listeners the blocks for building his kingdom in their hearts. If all the peoples of the world had accepted him as their king, and thus obeyed him, sin would not have prevailed. But that did not happen for “Caesar” has ruled the lives of many.

With every sin, we crucify our other worldly king, driving yet another nail into him. When we reject Christ as our king, we put aside all that he stands for and all that he calls us to be. The consequence is sin. Sooner or later, the result is suffering.

One cannot think of Good Friday without thinking of the suffering that is going on in our midst. But we should also consider how much of that suffering is a consequence of our personal choice to choose Caesar as our king instead of Jesus of Nazareth.

We are urged this day to behold Jesus as our king for no other king can promise us the lasting peace we so desperately want. Behold the man! Ecco Homo! Behold your king! He alone provides the truth we ultimately seek. How can we not choose him to be our king? He alone is the source of eternal salvation for all who obey him. He is the master of all time.

Martha speaks for us in the midst of this awesome gospel passage when she tells Jesus, “I know my brother will rise on the last day.” We too are convinced that life does not end with death, for Jesus tells us, “whoever believes in me, even if he dies, will live and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die.”

Thomas Aquinas observed, “Nobody is excluded from the kingdom of heaven except through human fault.” To cross the threshold of heaven, we must be forgiven. For this reason, we frequently implore God to forgive us.  Most every celebration of the Mass begins on that note, asking the Lord to have mercy on us. When we pray the Lord’s Prayer, we plead, “Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.”

An important lesson is rendered at the end of today’s gospel. I am drawn to the command Jesus gives, “Untie him and let him go.” How many people have we figuratively tied up and left for dead, because we refuse to forgive them in spite of the promise we make in the Lord’s Prayer?

If we believe in Jesus, then we must practice the art of forgiveness. In the act of forgiving others or ourselves, of untying and letting go of past hurts, we will rise to new life.

Broken relationships, even simple misunderstandings, can result in much hurt, despair, grief and anger, that can be as painful, if not more so, than mourning a physical death. In the wake of any break up, feelings of anger and hatred sometimes leave enough of a stench that the memories remain buried rather than revisited. Many times I hear people say in such instances, “I assume,” but how often do our assumptions prove to be right?  False assumptions lead to misunderstandings, which can result in broken relationships. They curtail us from looking anew at what caused the relationship to break up in the first place.

When we have estranged ourselves from someone, we are left with two options. We can let the relationship die, becoming a grave full of painful memories, or we can forgive, which is the first step toward reconciliation and new life.

Sometimes, when I’ve become upset with someone, I would fume for days in private. I would keep my distance, reluctant to take my blinders off to look anew at the issue. I would chain myself to the incident and remain chained until I was willing to forgive that person. I have learned that holding on to grudges was not life giving, certainly not for any relationship that is bogged down with painful memories, or unresolved issues.

Whatever life there was in such a relationship is bound to ebb away unless we are willing to let go and remove the chains whose links are made up of negative memories. Any reluctance to forgive burdens us with hurt and resentment, victimizing us more than the person who has offended us. Once we untie these resentments, forgive the offender, and let the past go, we will live again. We will rise out of the graves of bitterness and anger we dig for ourselves, blessed with new life.

Admittedly, forgiveness does not come easy, nor does it mean the same as forgetting or excusing. Thomas Szasz, a renowned psychiatrist, offers this bit of counsel: “The stupid neither forgive nor forget; the naïve forgive and forget; the wise forgive but do not forget.” That doesn’t mean, however, one can resurrect past grievances either, for doing that sends the message. “I have yet to forgive you.” I think Martin Luther King, Jr. notes the distinction well when he said, “Forgiveness doesn’t mean ignoring what has been done or putting a false label on an evil act. It means rather, that the evil act no longer remains a barrier to the relationship. Forgiveness is a catalyst creating the atmosphere necessary for a fresh start and a new beginning.”

1st Reading: 1 Samuel 16:1b, 6-7, 10-13a
2nd Reading: Ephesians 5: 8-14
Gospel: John 9: 1-41

One day, a man went to visit a church. He arrived early, parked his car, and got out. Another car pulled up near him and the driver told him, “I always park there.” “You took my place.”

The visitor went inside for Sunday School, found an empty seat, and sat down. A lady from the church approached him and stated, “that’s my seat.” “You took my place.” The visitor was somewhat distressed by this rude welcome, but said nothing.

After Sunday school, the visitor went into the church sanctuary and sat down. Another parishioner walked up to him and said, “that’s where I always sit.” “You took my place.” The visitor was even more troubled by this treatment, but still said nothing.

Later, as the congregation was praying for Christ to dwell with them, the visitor stood and his appearance began to change. Horrible scars became visible on his hands and his sandaled feet. Someone from the congregation noticed him and called out, “what happened to you.”

The visitor answered, “I took your place.”

I never get tired of this story for it reminds us how we can be at times when looking at others. Do we really look at others and see them for who they are? Do we really know there stories: Why we see them only once in a while at mass or why they seldom receive the Eucharist, why they never get involved in the parish life? Do we really know what is on their minds, or for that matter, what is in their hearts? Do we tend to judge?

This is what is happening in our gospel story for today. The Jews were blind for not seeing the great healing of the blind man by Jesus. The Pharisees believed that Jesus broke the Jewish law by healing on the Sabbath which made him a sinner and the blind man, according to Jewish culture, was blind because of sin or was blind because he was born of sinful parents. Jesus’ disciples thought the same.

You would think that the parents of the healed blind man would step up to defend Jesus and their own son but they were afraid of being banned from the synagogue for seeing Jesus as the Christ and saying that is was Christ who healed their son.

We at times, can relate to the parents of the healed blind man. How many times have we stepped back when hearing others talking about Jesus in fear of being challenged with questions about our own faith?

How many times have we allowed our humanness to overtake our spiritual lives causing our own blindness?

One thing is clear in this gospel story. The blind man’s faith came gradually. He knew that Jesus healed him but he is trying to understand who Jesus is. Maybe that person we tried to judge was in somewhat the same situation. We need to understand that we are gradually coming to know Jesus. That is the beauty of our Christian faith.

The more we know Jesus, the more we are drawn to him, the more we search out to be like him, the more we want to live as he lived here on earth, and the more we want to love as he loves.

We sometimes think we know what is best but are we always right or are we blinded by what we can’t see or understand? Samuel in our first reading thought that he knew who was to be the king of the Jews. However, he saw what he could see physically. He judged by appearance only and in turn, God reminded him so.

We will remain spiritually blind if we hold onto earthly things that keep us from reaching out to God and that prevent us from living a life in Jesus Christ.

There was this little child who would not let go of the pieces of shells that she collected from the beach that lay clinched in her hands. While standing on the shore the little child, still clinching on to those pieces of shells, looked up and saw a beautiful starfish floating on the top of the water just out of her reach. She looked at her parents who in turn gave the nod of approval to wade in the water to get that beautiful starfish. The child stepped into the water and immediately turned around and set foot on the shore.

The parents went over to the child and told her to try again. “You can do it” they said. “Get that beautiful starfish.” So the child entered the water again wading knee deep only to turn around again to seek dry land. The parents, concerned for their little child and knowing that she really wanted that starfish, gave her words of encouragement saying, ” We have faith in you, we know you can do it. Get that beautiful starfish.”

All of a sudden, she raised her head, looked at her parents and released those broken pieces of shell from her hands letting them fall to the shore. The little child went back into the water going waste deep and grabbed that beautiful starfish and came back to shore to show her parents that she did it. She got that beautiful starfish.

What can we learn from this little child on a beach? Our lives are very similar. When we are blind, we hold onto those broken pieces of our human life: our judging others, our envy, our greed, our selfishness, our idea that we know what is best for others when we can’t even figure out what is best for us, giving in to the temptations of sin. Then our lives are like those broken pieces of shells fragmented pieces that cannot make a complete shell.

When we allow the gift of God’s Spirit through Jesus Christ to enter our hearts, we can now open our eyes and see and our lives start to become whole. We can now reach for our savior, who heals our blindness to allow us to see and to be the children of the light not of the darkness and he gives us Himself for strength to stay in this light.

St. Paul says in his letter to the Ephesians, : “you were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord.” We are to live seeing in the light of Jesus Christ and being light to others in a world that seems to be full of darkness. We are being charged to be light for others by good works and by loving others as we love God and ourselves.

We have been given many opportunities to live the gospel message. Just look around you and around the world, ones that need help; People who need the comfort of a smile to ward off the pain of illness or a friendly visit to those confined in a prison or jail, or people who need the basic necessities of life because of natural disasters such as the earthquake and tsunami in Japan, or those homeless sleeping under our local freeways and those who hunger for a bite to eat coming to our local food bank, to those who suffer because of the atrocities of war and injustice.

Father Rick mentioned in his homily last week about how the woman at the well initially saw only physical water and not the living water-Jesus Christ. When we open our eyes and see with deep conviction the love shared by our God our thirst and our sight remains in Jesus Christ. We see Jesus in others. We see the equality of God’s image and likeness in all humanity. We see Him.

My brothers and sisters, now that we can see, I would like to leave you with this final thought: An English football player named Michael Bridges wrote: “When our eyes see our hands doing the work of our heart, the circle of creation is completed inside us, the doors of our souls fly open, and love steps forth to heal everything in sight.” How far can we see?

We take water so much for granted here since rain is a common experience. With the turn of the tap, we have safe clean water for drinking, bathing, and washing. Many people in third world countries are not so fortunate. Like the Samaritan woman, they trek to a well with jugs or cans and carry their water back home.

Being essential for survival, who can blame the Israelites for grumbling about the lack of water in the midst of the barren dessert? “Why did you ever make us leave Egypt? Was it just to have us die here of thirst with our children and our livestock?” They were doubting the Lord’s presence and questioning Moses’ ability to lead. Psalm 95 recounts their resentful attitude, urging us not to harden our hearts as the Israelites did at Meribah, yet isn’t that what we do when we find ourselves disenchanted?

In a gospel passage that is full of surprises, we find Jesus quenching the thirst of the Samaritans in ways they didn’t expect.

First of all, a Jew would not customarily travel through Samaria. To travel from Galilee to Judea, Jews bypassed Samaria by traveling along the east bank of the Jordan River. That would be like us bypassing Seattle anytime we drive to SeaTac Airport. Thus, for a Jew to talk to a Samaritan, much less a woman was unthinkable. Jesus was not about to let the customs of his time stop him from showing that anyone who is thirsting for God’s love will find that thirst quenched in him.

As their dialogue reveals, the Samaritan woman initially perceived Jesus’ offer of living water on a purely physical level. Stagnant water from a well sustains life but flowing water is much more refreshing and healthier, which is why it is called living water. At first, she could not see that the living water Jesus speaks of is God’s blueprint to the meaning of life. He tells her, “Everyone who drinks this water will thirst again; but whoever drinks the water I shall give will never thirst.”

Without anger or rancor, Jesus prodded the woman at the well to face the reality of her life: the missteps and stumbles she had taken, the messes she had made of her relationships, the sins that had estranged her from others. He cautions her that the lasting satisfaction we yearn for in life will not be found in the well of excess, whether it is material possessions, drink, drugs, sex, or work. Five husbands, five cars, five high definition televisions, or five of whatever we yearn for the most will never satisfy our thirst for long. They cannot provide us with what Jesus can, namely, peace that comes from a personal relationship with him, or the joy that comes from knowing him by serving others.

The effectiveness of this “living water” that Jesus is offering us to satisfy our yearnings depends on our willingness to drink of it. If we do little to nurture our relationship with God through prayer, action, and study, what “living water” we have within us will become stagnant. Just as we need to drink water throughout the day to sustain our physical health, we also need to drink “living water” throughout the day to sustain our spiritual health.

Many of us do not drink enough liquid. When we begin to feel thirsty, we are in the initial stages of dehydration. Likewise, many of us may be more spiritually dehydrated than we realize.

Like the Israelites in the dessert, are we hardening our hearts still, refusing to forgive those who have hurt us in the past? Are we testing God still, doubting his love because things aren’t going our way? Lent calls us to renew our faith in God. Are we coming closer to Christ through added time spent in prayer and self-reflection? Are we giving witness to the gospel in what we say and do? The Samaritan woman went away changed by her encounter with Jesus and so can we, provided we quench our spiritual thirst sufficiently through prayer, fasting and works of mercy. So, how thirsty are you?  Make time to meet Christ at the well and allow him to renew you with his “living water.”