2020

The past three months have been a long stretch for us, enduring a fast that none of us ever expected. No doubt we are hungry. Hungry for human contact, hungry to reconnect with family and friends beyond the walls of our home. Hungry for peace of mind in the midst of current tensions simmering from coast to coast. Hungry to get back to “normal.”

And some of you have been hungry for bread itself. I don’t mean what one can find on the shelf at a nearby grocery store, but the bread of life, Jesus himself.

Welcome back. Today’s feast, which celebrates the core of our worship, provides an opportune setting for us to come together for the first time in months to celebrate Jesus’ presence in our lives. Of course, there are many ways that Jesus is present. He is present in the beauty of nature, from the smile of a baby to a view of the Cascades. He is present whenever we are gathered in his name and he is present in the Word of scripture. His greatest presence, however, is his real presence in the Eucharist.

Today’s feast is an fitting time for us to reflect on what happens at Mass. As every Catholic knows, bread and wine become the body and blood of Christ. They are not symbols of the Lord. They become the Lord. We call this sacrament holy communion because it is the joining of the faith community with Jesus Christ becoming present in each person who receives the Eucharist. Receiving communion isn’t just a private event between Jesus and the person who receives him. When doing this, he or she is publicly proclaiming to be part of the Catholic community.

This is an timely moment for some Eucharistic theology. At Mass, during the consecration, the substance of bread and wine are changed, although their appearance remains the same. Now, if you are skeptical, my response is this. If God, our creator, can create all that exists out of nothing from viruses to all living creatures, from the bluffs of our island to the most distant galaxies out of nothing, who are we to limit what God can do?

Granted, if you look at a host through a microscope, you couldn’t tell the difference between one that is and is not consecrated. The molecules of a consecrated host will resemble that of an unconsecrated host, not the molecules of a human body. Still we know the substance has been changed. By the power of the Holy Spirit, the bread and wine when consecrated truly become Jesus Christ. The substance of our gifts has changed, which is why they are now treated with reverence.

When we receive communion, we are receiving Christ, thus we have the potential to be changed as well. We believe this because of what Jesus said at the Last Supper. Detailed accounts of this meal appear in the gospels. They speak of Jesus blessing bread and saying, “This is my body.” Then sharing the cup and saying, “This is my blood.” Unlike some other passages in scripture, when he speaks figuratively or metaphorically, we now find Jesus speaking literally.

In the Eucharist, Jesus endeavors to nourish us. He knows our needs even before we express them. He is there for us, but we have to go beyond just receiving him to fully appreciate all that he is offering us. We have to let his presence transform us. When we allow Christ to do that, we are preparing ourselves to accept his gift of eternal life.

Think of the Eucharist as the Lord’s dying gift to you. We receive his body and blood, his humanity and his divinity. Now you may be thinking, “But I can’t have the cup.” True, but when you partake of one species, you actually receive both the body and blood of Jesus Christ. You become the body of Christ. Ideally, we then feel empowered to manifest his presence to others by what we say and do.

I presume that you have received the latest issue of Northwest Catholic, which contains a pastoral letter from Archbishop Etienne, entitled The Work of Redemption. Beginning today, we are entering a Year of the Eucharist. In the year ahead, he is urging us to deepen our awareness of the Eucharist. Some of you, for example, are doing that by reading the book on the Mass, which we are giving out to interested parishioners.

The archbishop notes, “There is nothing else like the Eucharist on earth: comparisons cannot do it justice!” This food and drink is different from any other food and drink. Do you view the Eucharist in the same way he does?

Not every one does. When it comes to human behavior, we tend to become complacent if we do the same task often enough, going through the motions without much thought. Now that you have been away from the sacrament for three months, I hope you are eager to become one with him, like a child about to receive first communion, saying “Amen!” with gratitude as you do so. We cannot be satisfied with just receiving communion though. We have to let his presence transform us. You have heard that we are what we eat. Christ’s body and blood becomes our flesh and blood. When we attentively partake of Christ in communion, we allow ourselves to be drawn deeply into the way he thought, felt, hoped and acted.

Given what our country has experienced over the past two weeks, these readings strike me as being quite timely. From coast to coast, the death of George Floyd has sparked an outburst of violence and protests. The actions of many remind me, “This is indeed a stiff-necked people.”

We witnessed a blatant and horrible injustice that has shaken our nation to its core.  By kneeling on his neck, a police officer in Minneapolis killed a handcuffed man. That wasn’t the first time police brutality has taken the life of an African American nor will it be the last. There have been many other such instances even recently in Tacoma, but this death ignited an anger and frustration that had been simmering for some time fueled partly by the pandemic quarantine.  We may be alarmed but are we surprised?

Throughout our history, despite the efforts of many in our lifetime, African Americans have often been the victims of unjustified brutality at the hands of someone in authority. Not only that, but their efforts to be heard as they protested civilly are often marred by the criminal acts of looters. Their pleas for justice fade into the background where they continue to be unheard and ignored.

In a recent statement, the American bishops noted, “Just as the Church in America speaks out consistently against abortion, euthanasia, capital punishment and other forms of violence that threaten the dignity of human life, we must also speak out about how racism threatens and is an attack against the dignity of human life”… They added, “ People of good conscience must never turn a blind eye when citizens are being deprived of their human dignity and even their lives. Indifference is not an option… As bishops, we unequivocally state that racism is a life issue.”

In that same statement, they reminded us that we are all made in the likeness of God. Thus, every person is obliged to advance the values of life, charity, and justice. All peoples of good will have an inherent responsibility to practice the art of reconciliation when injustice, racism and other divisive issues blind us from loving one another in the manner that Christ puts before us when he said that the greatest commandment is to love God and to love one another. We cannot do one without doing the other.

It is heartbreaking, the bishops noted, that not all Catholics respond passionately to the injustice experienced by people of color. The Lord is calling us to an authentic change of heart that prompts us to undertake actions that will overcome the attempts of those who sow racial division and hate. By working together to find creative ways to challenge those who fail to acknowledge the gross injustices around them, we will usher in a more complete understanding of the sanctity of all human life.

Bishop Mark Seitz of El Paso, Texas, was one of the first bishops in our country to protest that black lives matter. In a pastoral letter written last year, he noted that for some people their thought patterns were influenced by racially prejudicial ways of thinking and that it’s not just a benign problem in our country.  He observed, “For people to reach their potential as God intended, they also need to be seen as God sees them, but when others look at them with distrust, without the goodness that God sees in them, it’s also hard for the person to see him or herself that way and that is one of the subtle yet extremely important ways that this systemic prejudice influences people.”

Last week, Pope Francis commented, “My friends, we cannot tolerate or turn a blind eye to racism and exclusion in any form and yet claim to defend the sacredness of every human life. At the same time, we have to recognize that the violence of recent nights is self-destructive and self-defeating. Nothing is gained by violence and so much is lost.” He also pointed out that racism is a sin.

The problem is sin, not skin. The answer is grace, not race. How blessed we are that our Lord is a merciful and gracious God, slow to anger and rich in kindness and fidelity. On this feast when we honor the Holy Trinity, we heard timely advice from Paul, “Mend your ways, encourage one another, agree with one another, live in peace, and the God of love and peace will be with you.”

God sent his son into the world not to condemn but to save. Those who believe in God also love, for God is love. Our God is a triune God for love cannot exist without a relationship. I recall a painting my cousin had in her home in Minneapolis that featured the Father embracing the Son and the two of them being embraced by the Holy Spirit.

Racism isn’t an abstract issue we can ignore. As Christians our mission is to further Christ’s work of reconciliation when injustice due to racism and other divisive issues is being manifested. AB Tutu cautioned, “If we are neutral in situations of injustice, we have chosen the side of the oppressor.” Sadly not all Catholics really care about this challenge yet the Holy Trinity is calling us to do just that, to love and judge one another, as Dr. Martin Luther King once said, not by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character. Will his dream become reality? Hopefully yes at least in the manner that we will hereafter treat one another.

Today’s readings began, “When the time for Pentecost had been fulfilled, they were all in one place together.” Pentecost was a major Jewish feast, back then, a thanksgiving celebration that combined gratitude for the year’s harvest with a gratitude for the Sinai covenant. This feast occurred fifty days after Passover, hence the name, Pentecost.

Jews from all over gathered for this great Jewish feast in Jerusalem. As we heard, they were speaking many different languages. That reminds me of the tower of Babel in the book of Genesis. Prior to building the tower, with the intent of reaching to the heavens, all peoples spoke the same language. As a punishment for the pride of those who tried to build such a tower, God confused their speech so that they no longer understood one another. Thus, humanity became fragmented, divided, split into groups different from one another, and out of touch with each other.

The coming of the Holy Spirit on Pentecost aimed to reverse that situation. The people of different languages gathered in Jerusalem were astounded. They understood what they were hearing. They were transformed by the message they heard from the apostles, who themselves had been transformed by the Holy Spirit from a confused group of human beings into a courageous body of Christian believers.

This disorganized band of believers was quickly transformed into a single body of witnesses, which we now call the Church. Hence, we think of this feast as the birthday of the Church, the risen body of Christ made visible. The Christian movement that began that day spread so quickly that within three decades its influence was felt in faraway Rome.

What the Holy Spirit began on Pentecost 2000 years ago was left for us to complete now. Due to the pandemic, we are not assembled in a building designated as a church, but we are church wherever we are for we make up the Body of Christ. This means that we all take on an active role, each in our own way, of preaching and living the Gospel message. This mission is more critical today than ever.

In the gospel, Jesus is speaking to us just as readily as he spoke to the disciples in the upper room. “Peace be with you. Receive the Holy Spirit. Whose sins you forgive are forgiven them, and whose sins you retain are retained.” Those are reassuring words many people are desperate to hear on the streets of Seattle, Minneapolis and numerous other cities where anger toward police brutality has erupted into scenes of violence and destruction, a sad reminder that Jesus’ words ring hollow for many people, who are reluctant to forgive and find ways to reconcile with one another.

Peace is the message we are to announce to our wounded world. Peace is the promise that Pentecost proclaims. But what is this peace? Certainly, it is not the absence of conflict. There is not true peace in the home just because members of the family are not fighting. There isn’t true peace in any city where no riots have broken out.  True peace means more than the absence of war between nations or the absence of bullying in schools and workplaces.

Rather, peace is a unity of mind, heart and will to live in the manner that God urges us to live. True peace is what Jesus came to establish on earth but we are so slow to put into practice his lessons of love, compassion, and humility. His peace is a peace that nothing in this world can give. His peace emerges when people come together in love with mutual understanding and respect for one another. This is a peace that cannot be fostered unless we die to sin and all the divides us. 

We are challenged to effectively communicate the Gospel to others by what we say and do and the values we hold. We were given the power to boldly proclaim our faith yet how many of us are able to stand up for religious values in the face of social or political opposition? The power of the Spirit is what has enabled countless Christians to do just that.

Elsewhere in his letters, Paul notes, “God has not given us the Spirit of fear, but of power, love and a sound mind.” This is the Spirit that came upon the disciples on Pentecost and this is the Spirit we are personally blessed with through our baptism and confirmation.

The ongoing riots happening across the country in reaction to the death of George Floyd or the quarantine caused by the coronavirus pandemic demonstrate vividly that many are hesitant or reluctant to live out the Gospel, becoming angry and hostile instead of forgiving. As the Gospel repeatedly affirms, it is through acts of forgiveness that we can harness for God the energies of love, setting a contagious fire to heal our divided world. Forgiveness requires us to embrace our feelings with compassion and understanding, though it does not mean condoning any behaviors that have harmed us.

The Church is you and I, called to live decent moral lives and bear witness to the gospel of Jesus Christ. We are called to do that here and now in the trenches of everyday living, loving, hurting, struggling, and dying. The Spirit has been manifested to each of us for the common good of all, living a common language of love that transcends divisions, always making us mindful that we are all created in the image of God who loves us unconditionally.

This is Memorial Day weekend, and at least in part, it is meant as a time for us to remember those who died fighting for our country along with the nearly 97,000 who have died from the coronavirus. With the stay at home directives, not many people are visiting others, but we can do so in other ways. Whether we visit a cemetery or take the time to reflect on past experiences, memories provide us with a means of being present with others, both living and dead.

Consider spending time this weekend looking through your family photo album. Give thanks for those who came before you: the family who raised you, who taught you, who instilled in you the values that guide your life today. Even the most faded photos in that album are also pictures of you.

If you don’t have that album, take out your school yearbook. Relive those moments with friends and classmates, the once young faces who continue to be your truest friends with whom you traveled together through first jobs, first loves, first break-ups, first children, and first grandchildren.

Or open the box of souvenirs filled with memories. Some of its contents are small insignificant objects that mean the world to you, but nothing to others. There is also the box in your heart of intangible treasures like the wisdom you learned from parents, wise teachers and mentors, the places you visited, the discoveries you have made, and the adventures you have experienced. Yes, memories provide us with a means of being present with loved ones in spirit.

What a small leap it is from the gospel we just read to now. Jesus, the Lord, is not literally here but as we just heard moments ago, he told the disciples, “I am with you always until the end of the age.” While he is no longer physically present in our midst, we can still feel his presence.

Perhaps you have heard of Victor Frankl. Seventy-five years ago, he was liberated from a Nazi concentration camp where he was imprisoned for several years. There, he developed the basis of his psychology, which he later shared in his book, Man’s Search for Meaning. He noticed that most who survived the ordeal, who didn’t fall apart, had something to sustain them. He wrote, “The salvation of man is through love and in love. A man who has nothing left in this world still may know bliss in the contemplation of his beloved.”

Frankl noticed his fellow prisoners needed some cause, some person, some love to keep them from falling apart. For them that spiritual presence was very real, strong, and life sustaining. This, for example, is how Christ is present to us in varying degrees. I am with you always, he assures us, and for those of us with faith, those words sustain us in this trying time when life is certainly far from normal.

Imagine the scene in our first reading. The disciples in a matter of weeks had gone from following Jesus to witnessing his betrayal and shameful death on the cross, experiencing his risen presence for forty days, and now his ascension. Had you done what I suggested last Sunday, which was to read the Acts of the Apostles, you know the rest of the story. They returned to the upper room and spent time in prayer with certain women, including Mary, the mother of Jesus.

They had no clue then what to do other than pray. Jesus promised them power when the Holy Spirit would come upon them. Little did they realize that indeed they would be his witnesses to the ends of the earth. This “in-between time” of uncertainty that the apostles were facing is something like what you and I know from our own experience. Months ago when phase one of this pandemic began, we wondered, “When will we get to phase two, much less phase four, when hopefully life will be get back to normal?” As time drags on, we could become discouraged and frightened.

Or we could follow the example of the apostles and make time for prayer, even if we cannot do so in the manner we once did. We can pray for guidance from the Holy Spirit.

Reading between the lines as I ponder the Acts of the Apostles, I find Luke inviting us to also savor its message of simplicity. The faith community shared what they had with one another. Many people are dealing with loss right now. The world we knew months ago has shrunk. The daily routine of going to work or school is gone. The inability to come and go as you wish compels some people to ponder the values of their lives and in turn see the wisdom of redefining their values and living more simply.

What really matters when what we once took for granted has been taken away? My health? My income? My car? My home? In this stripping away time, some of us are being forced to ponder, “What values do I really want to live by?”

This pandemic is providing us with a graceful moment to answer that question. As you consider that question, do so with hope, knowing fully well that the Spirit enables Jesus to be with you always until the end of the age. Pray, even when the prayer you offer is, “I can’t pray.” Pray that the seed of hope will sprout forth, sustaining you in the midst of your own trials with memories of God’s unconditional love for you.

In our memories and gratitude for those who came before us and made us who we are, may we always reconnect with the God to whom we all belong, whose love gathers us into one family of faith and people in his son, our Lord Jesus Christ who is always present in our midst.

The opening words of today’s gospel were addressed to the disciples at the Last Supper. Moments earlier, Jesus had said, “Where I am going you cannot come,” so we can imagine that they were distraught. He then spoke words that have since reassured many people, “Do not let your hearts be troubled. You have faith in God; have faith also in me.”

Even though they had been journeying with Jesus for three years, Thomas and Philip completely missed his point. “Master,” Thomas protested, “we do not know where you are going: how can we know the way?” They hadn’t yet grasped what they had encountered all along. In one sentence, Jesus then sums up his mission: “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.”

In the face of much persecution the early Christians believed in Jesus. They had faith in Jesus. They also believed in God and had faith in God, but it took centuries filled with many disagreements and councils for believers to come to accept the notion of a triune God, the belief we resonate whenever we recite the Nicene Creed.

The leap from the Jesus at the Last Supper to the Jesus after the resurrection is one giant step, one that the disciples had not yet taken but we have. We are an Easter people. As Peter points out, we are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s own people called out of the night into his wonderful light. We have received the Holy Spirit who empowers us to know Jesus and through him, to know the Father. Believing this mitigates all troubles and anxiety.

Friday afternoon I ventured out to have dinner with some parishioners.  I entered their address into the GPS system in my dashboard and off I went, arriving there safely 15 minutes later. Technology has come a long ways in the years I have been a pastor but no GPS system, much less any road map, can show us the way to the Father, the truth, and the life, which Jesus offers. He is our ultimate GPS. Our roadmap to heaven is only found through him.

Jesus’ claim that he is “the way and the truth and the life” is a sweeping one that dares us to see Jesus as everything we need to come to the fullness of risen life ourselves. The way that he speaks of isn’t always appealing, namely dying to our self-interests, and self-giving for the sake of others.

How sensitive the early Christian community was, as we heard in the first reading, concerned about caring for the needy in their midst. They realized early on that paying attention to both worship and service is Jesus’ way of leading them to eternal life. Ultimately being a Christian is about service in the name of Jesus.

The good news is that we follow Jesus’ way oftentimes in less dramatic ways everyday. Our simple acts of reaching out to others, alleviating their suffering, or eliminating their need, whatever that may be, is how we follow Jesus’ way.  By serving as the hands and feet of Jesus, we become more like him, we take on his care, his love, his passion for others. As we do his works, we become the way to the Father for others. No greater work can we do!

For us to be people of authentic faith, we cannot simply admire Jesus or respect his teachings and nod approvingly whenever the gospel is read. To be a true disciple, we must endeavor to follow him by following his example.

According to a recent Pew Research survey, one third of their respondents experienced high levels of psychological distress at some point in recent months. That number rises to 55% among those who describe their financial situation as being poor. Alas, anxiety, sleeplessness and depression are coloring the lives of many people due to this pandemic. Their hearts are troubled. Are they hearing what Jesus is saying?

As the way, the truth and the life, Jesus tells us how we must act if we don’t want to find our hearts troubled. Many times we make choices thinking we will be happy and untroubled but instead we end up being either sad or mad instead of glad. Why? Because we thought we could do things our way and ignore the way that Jesus shows us. The way he shows is always done out of love rather than selfishness. Our hearts will be troubled whenever we don’t care about others.

The American poet, John Greenleaf Whittier, once said, “Of all sad words of tongue or pen, the saddest are these: it might have been!” Our lives might have been very different had we dared to follow Jesus’ way when we chose not to.

The truth that Jesus spoke of so long ago is still the truth today and those who believe that truth are the living stones that make up the church today. When we act out of love, our hearts will be happy. Even the smallest act of love brightens our hearts and the hearts of others. An example close to home are the many caring parishioners who are making masks, personal protective equipment, and leaving them here for anyone who needs one.

To take whatever you have, no matter how little, to give whatever time you can, no matter how limited, to put aside your own needs and challenges, no matter how great; that is to do the work of Christ, to be his hands and feet. Such humble yet complete giving, such simple offerings compelled by compassion makes real the kingdom of God in our midst especially in these difficult times.