Homilies

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.

Every morning as I walk around town I pass the Fossek farm over on Park Avenue. Lately I have noticed many sheep grazing in the field along side young lambs.  Raising sheep in our country is a contrast to what was done in biblical times. Back then, sheep, belonging to several shepherds, would be penned together at night. Each morning shepherds would call their sheep. Sheep who knew the voice of its shepherd would come to the gate and follow him.

This morning we celebrate “Good Shepherd” Sunday. The novelty of Easter has faded away along with the lilies. It has been seven weeks since this pandemic began, altering our way of life and worship, preventing us from gathering together for Mass and be literally fed the Eucharist as well as visit with one another. Hopefully we are still listening to the voice of the Good Shepherd in this trying time.

Yet there are many voices in the world calling us to do otherwise. The call of these voices is enough to drown out the voice of God. There is the voice that says, “You can do this or that now. Everyone is doing that so join them.” That voice could be seducing us to ignore the voice of the good shepherd. Another voice says, “You aren’t good enough.” That voice could persuade us to ignore the good shepherd who loves us unconditionally and would never put us down.

Let’s not fool ourselves. There are predators out there trying to lure us away from Jesus Christ and his blueprint for salvation. Before they do, ask yourself, “is the happiness they promise fleeting or long lasting? Is the serenity they promise shallow or iron clad?”  It is not always easy to recognize the voice of the good shepherd, but we can, provided we give ourselves the chance to listen intently. We need to find ways to improve our response to God’s voice speaking to us.

We can tell if Jesus is calling us to do something or not through our conscience. We know right from wrong. We don’t have to be moral theologians to know that people who post hurtful things about others on the Internet are doing something very wrong. Our morality isn’t derived from civil law. In some instances what is legal is immoral. Right or wrong is not verified by civil law, but by God’s law. Right or wrong is determined by an informed conscience.

Conscience is a gift imbedded in our inner being by God. A conscience committed to doing the right thing is the voice of the Good Shepherd calling us how to act. Oftentimes, there are other voices trying to persuade us to act differently whenever we need to make a moral decision, that is, a decision that impacts someone’s life. Those voices try to persuade us away from doing what is right.  

Our society survives because the vast majority of peoples listen to the voice we need to follow, the voice of God. Sometimes we have to perk up our ears to hear the voice of the Good Shepherd. There are so many distractions in life that we have to listen carefully to hear his voice, which is why we need to make time for daily prayer beyond just quickly mumbling a few memorized prayers.

Taking time to pray gives us the chance to listen to his voice and distinguish it from the other “shepherds,” who are actually wolves in sheep clothing, intent on seducing us into making choices that imperil our lives in more ways than one.

In the gospel, Jesus describes himself as a shepherd and as a gate.  “Whoever enters through me will be saved.” He describes in one line what he will do for all who believe in him. “ I came so that they might have life, and have it more abundantly.” Yes, he comes as our protection against those who try to steal our souls. He endeavors to stop others from misleading us into going down the wrong path.

Today’s gospel compels us to ponder, “Whose voice am I listening to? Is it a voice that lures me into making immoral choices, such as those that promote racism or abortion? Is it a voice that excuses me from loving others?

While false leaders are only out for their own interests, Jesus looks out for the interests of those who believe in him. Like a good shepherd, he knows each of his flock by name. He knows you. And like the gate of the sheepfold where the sheep are kept at night, Jesus guards his flock and protects them from predators. When we heed his wisdom, garnered through prayer, scripture, and the tenets of our faith, we are more apt to see the fallacy of those false voices that can lead us astray.

Martin Luther King, Jr. provided a reliable way to judge both the major and minor issues that are part of daily living. He noted, “Cowardice asks the question, ‘Is it safe?’ Expediency asks the question, ‘Is it politic?’ Vanity ask the question, ‘Is it popular?’ But conscience ask the question, ‘Is it right?’”

If we succeed in doing the right and loving thing every day, we will be following the voice of the Good Shepherd who urges us to follow the golden rule principle by treating others the way we would want to be treated.

Peter offered timely advice in the first reading, “Save yourself from this corrupt generation.” This generation is no different than the one he first addressed for in every age the devil and his cohorts do their best to dissuade us from following the voice of the Good Shepherd, who left us many examples of how best to live this life if eternal life is our goal.

Luke tells us about two disciples who had lost hope, walking home to Emmaus disappointed and grieving over what had happened. It was a long journey roughly seven miles, about a 4-hour walk.  As disciples of Jesus they had heard His message repeatedly, speaking about the love of the Father.  They had heard Him speak about the love we need to extend to others.  Life would be so beautiful; the world would be so wonderful if people would only love each other, especially those who need the love and compassion of others.  Cleopas and his companion had likely witnessed His many deeds and miracles. Perhaps they were present when Jesus fed thousands with a few loaves of bread. They were convinced that Jesus was the Messiah.

But then everything fell apart. Jesus was arrested the Thursday before. He was treated horribly that night and then the next day, scourged and crucified. The disciples were certain that this would not happen to the Messiah. They were in shock. They had loved this Jesus, and now He was dead. That day, they heard that Jesus was not in the tomb. Yet they saw no reason to stay in town and they headed home.

As they walked, hashing over what had happened, a total stranger walks up to them and interrupts their conversation. “What are you guys talking about?” Don’t you pretty much ask the same question when you are trying to be included in someone else’s conversation? Then once you get the gist of their topic, you add your two cents worth, which Jesus did.

After sharing their dismay over what had happened, one said, “We were hoping that he would be the one to redeem Israel.” Jesus at first reprimanded them for being downcast. “How foolish you are! How slow of heart to believe all that the prophets spoke! Was it not necessary that the Christ should suffer these things and enter into his glory?” Jesus then used the opportunity for however many more miles they walked to get in a few more lessons.

Keep in mind that the disciples still didn’t fully understand all of the Good News that Jesus had been sharing with them.  They had envisioned an earthly messiah who would liberate them from the oppressive Romans. Little did they realize that this Messiah came to liberate them from much more than that and like them, we too can be foolish and slow of heart to fully believe and grasp the Good News of Jesus Christ.

With added lessons Jesus slowly got these two travelers to realize that their hope was not futile. He indeed came to redeem Israel but in a manner they hadn’t imagined until that moment when they recognized him in the breaking of bread.

The experience of these two disciples reflects our own. At first, I thought it somewhat odd that they were walking away from Jerusalem but then I wonder how often might we have done the same, walking away from God or the Church when we have been disappointed or disillusioned.

I have known people who have left the Church, perhaps let down by the scandalous conduct of a priest or blaming God for some misfortune in their lives, like the untimely death of a loved one, which many have sadly experienced in the midst of this pandemic. Others change to a different faith, drawn perhaps by a friend who has done the same thing. Over the years I have heard a litany of reasons why the second largest religion in our country is the fallen away Catholic.

What they leave behind is the opportunity to do what we Catholics have done since that first Sunday in Emmaus, namely recognize Jesus in the breaking of bread.

If asked why they left, some lament that they got nothing out of receiving communion. Perhaps they only saw the host as a piece of bread. What might they believe if they had taken the time to better understand our faith? Many adult Catholics rarely study the catechism of our Church or even take time to read scripture.  Once they were confirmed, did they feel that  they knew all that they needed to know?

Could Jesus accuse some of us of being slow of heart in believing all that he has told us through the prophets and the apostles? If, for example, the celebration of the Mass has little appeal to you, consider this; have you invited the Lord to stay with you? Had those two disciples not invited Jesus to stay with them, he would have ventured on his way and they would have remained blind to all that had happened.

The same is true for us. For Jesus to become real, we must first open the door of our being to him, and that calls for faith and hospitality. Make time for him. Go to your room and pray daily. Pick up the Bible and meditate on the readings of the day. Let Jesus speak to you so that you too can recognize him. During this pandemic, when we can’t gather as a faith community, we can ill afford to walk away from God. You can still view the Mass in numerous ways on TV and the Internet. Just as children are being schooled via the Internet, you can deepen your relationship with Christ through apps such as FORMED, which offers a gold mine of many lessons for better knowing Jesus and our Catholic faith.

In this trying time, don’t lose hope for Jesus is here walking with us, soothing us with his Word. 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 love. 

Some of you right now maybe feeling imprisoned due to the quarantine. This brings to mind the story of a certain prisoner. One cold December morning in Russia in 1849, 20 political prisoners were lined up to be shot by a firing squad. Just before the order was given, an officer arrived on the scene with the news that the czar had commuted their death sentence to ten years of hard labor in Siberia. One of the prisoners was a young man named Feodor Dostoevsky. 

When Feodor arrived in Siberia, he began to read the New Testament and by the time he had finished, he was a firm believer in Jesus Christ. He wrote to a friend, “No one is more beautiful and more perfect than Christ. If anyone proved to me that Christ was outside the truth, I would prefer to remain outside with Christ than inside with the truth.”

After being released from prison, Feodor began writing novels. Perhaps you have read some of them: The Brothers Karamazov or Crime and Punishment. Success as an author soon went to his head and he began to drink and gamble heavily. Worse yet, he set aside his faith in Christ.

Shortly before he died however, Dostoevsky returned to the faith.  His atheistic friends ridiculed him, regarding his return to the faith as a sick act of a sick man. In response, he wrote in his diary. “These fools could not even conceive so strong a denial of God as the one to which I gave expression. It is not like a child that I believe in Christ and confess him. My hosanna has come forth from the crucible of doubt.”

Dostoevsky’s story is like that of Thomas. Both men once placed their faith in Jesus Christ. Both men abandoned their faith in Jesus, then both returned to their faith in Christ. We can relate to their stories, especially in this trying time when the trial of this pandemic is compelling some of us to look at our faith in Christ differently. Now when we are being denied the chance to worship at Mass together, some people may be tempted to abandon their faith in the Lord just as Thomas and other disciples did, or if we haven’t abandon him, we aren’t following Jesus as closely as we should.

Anyone who has traveled the road of faith knows that it is not a widely paved highway. Rather, faith is a narrow bumpy dirt road that is paved with three things: loving trust in God, constant struggle, and times of darkness and doubt.

First, faith involves a loving trust in God.  Contrary to what some people may argue, faith is not totally intellectual. Belief in God is not a matter of the head; belief in God is a matter of the heart. Faith is accepting the possibility that God loves us unconditionally.

Faith is not something purely intellectual, like seeing the solution to a math problem. Rather, faith is much more personal and profound. Even when the intellect is confused, faith enables us to have trust in God.

One of the earliest bible stories I learned as a kid was the story of Abraham when he was asked to sacrifice his son Isaac. Sacrificing his son made little sense. That meant killing the person through whom God promised him descendants. Had Abraham relied on his own reason, he would have set aside his trust in God but he didn’t. He chose to trust God and as a result, God blessed him richly.

Secondly, faith involves a constant struggle on our part. Again, recall the story of Abraham. When God promised to give Abraham descendants thru his son Isaac, Abraham believed, despite his age. He never doubted, but when God asked him to sacrifice his son, he had good reason then to doubt God. That episode taught Abraham an important truth about faith. Faith involves much more than a one-time decision to believe. Faith involves a series of ongoing decisions to continually believe. This struggle will go on until we actually see God face to face. Let’s not kid ourselves; the devil is always trying to persuade us to renounce our faith.

Third, faith involves times of darkness. By this I mean times when our faith seems to go behind a cloud like a full moon does at times. Granted, there are times when we find it hard to believe, times like now, when the world is besieged by a pandemic that has disrupted our way of life. Our daily routine has been altered. We can’t mingle with friends, shop in our usual stores, attend Mass, gather together and socialize, leaving us wondering if and when life will get back to normal.

Yes, there are times when God tests our faith, just as God tested the faith of Abraham. But God also offers us peace just as he did to the apostles. When times of testing arise, I remember these lines a fugitive from the Nazis wrote on the wall of a basement where he was hiding. “I believe in the sun even when it is not shining. I believe in love even when I do not feel it. I believe in God even when he is silent.”

Thomas’ story is about believing, not doubting. His story is our story. As I said, traveling the road of faith involves three things: having a loving trust in God, constant struggle, and times of darkness. Feodor Dostoevsky experienced them as did Thomas the apostle, who is best remembered for saying, “My Lord and my God!” Thomas came to believe because he could see the risen Lord, but as Jesus said to him, “Blessed are those who have not seen and have believed.”