Wednesday, May 28, 2014

V Sunday of Easter (A) – Gospel reading: John 14: 1-12



V Sunday of Easter (A) – May 18,2014
Gospel reading:  John 14: 1-12




The works of Mexican poet Amado Nervo, who died in 1919, have been described as being like a "path or way that walks."  His poetry and prose give the impression to be unmovable and fluid at the same time. That description fascinates me, "a path or way that walks."  The path is firm and solid and dynamic and fluid.  The way is direct but with many turns, clear but fluid.

The early followers of Christ were called followers of the "Way." The Christian faith was understood as a way of life.  They understood that life was a journey with Christ as the source and the destiny, the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. An end, yes, but one that always brings new life. In today's Gospel reading, Jesus, as always, makes it personal: "I am the way, the truth and the life." The way is not just a path to be walked or followed, but a Redeemer to be known and trusted. Yes, Jesus is the way, but he is a "way or path that walks." 

In Christ, the way is neither a rambling, purposeless journey nor a closed, rigid path.   Following Christ has multiple meanings, such as going down a clear path in a resolute manner, blazing a new trail that requires taking a risk or, even, joyfully going along from one moment to another.  Following him is about realizing that if we are thankful for where we've been and mindful of where we are, there will be less room for fear about where we are headed.

Pope Francis writes: "If we want to understand what faith is, we need to follow the route is has taken, the path trodden by believers, as witnessed first in the Old Testament."  Not only can we find inspiration in the faith and struggle of previous generations who struggled and overcame … in faith, but we can see that the way continues. With the ancient patriarch Abraham as a primordial model, Pope Francis explains that "faith is an act of remembrance," not one "fixed on past events but, as the memory of a promise, faith becomes capable of opening up the future, shedding light on the path to be taken." 

In Christ, the way is a living one, without beginning or end.  He doesn't ask, "Do you follow it, believe it and live it?"  He asks, do you follow me, believe me and live in me? To make it simple, Jesus asks, "Do you love me and believe that I love you?" Like the poet's works, we can say Christ is like the "way that walks."  Don't stop there: Christ is the way that lives.   

The same poet Amado Nervo was fond of the old French proverb, "The song signals the way."  Does that mean the path is as transient as the song and the notes and lyrics that waft in the air?  Perhaps it's more that in order to know the way, we need to stop and listen for the music that invites us to follow.  Perhaps it's more about stopping along the path of life to ask ourselves, do we know the way? Or, more importantly, "Do we know Jesus?"

            In Christ, the way is a living one. Walking his way is about trusting him, not about knowing exactly what tomorrow brings. It's not about knowing the truth as "it", but as He is: the truth of his paschal mystery – his passion, death and resurrection. Death is reality, but Resurrection is truth, the truth that life prevails over death, hope over emptiness, love over hate.

Jesus is much more than a map, he's both the way we walk, how we do it, and the path we follow.  If we begin our days in him, in prayer and good works, for example, then we have a good idea where we will end up:  where we started.

IV Sunday of Easter - Gospel reading: John 10: 1-10



IV Sunday of Easter - A (May 11, 2014)
Gospel reading: John 10: 1-10


      The Gospel reading from last Sunday, the Third Sunday of Easter was the story of the two disciples meeting Christ on the road to Emmaus. It has long been my favorite Gospel reading.  This week, the Gospel reading contains my favorite biblical saying, "I came so that they might have life and have it more abundantly" (John 10: 10).
        In a recent funeral program I found a quote by the poet Ralph Waldo Emerson that helps bring it in to focus, "It is not the length of life, but the depth of life." Life, it's not that we have it; God takes care of that part.  Rather, it's that we live it. 
      We all have life, how is it that we can have it more abundantly? As I was on my return flight here after my father's funeral, I sat in the first row of economy class. The first class section, luxury was just over an arm's length away. In full view, I could see passengers in first class with more room and sipping drinks. Waiting for the green light at almost any major intersection in town you can see poverty and destitution just an arm's length away as more and more poor and homeless stand there waiting for a handout. Abundance of life is not something we can reach out and obtain. We must first reach deep inside us and hold fast to our faith and then with arms outstretched and hands open, share it with others, both with those who appear to have it all and those in obviously destitute situations. 


       I always remember what a recent Tulane graduate said after making several of our mission trips to Honduras: "it really struck me how people could be so happy even though they have so little." I've known many children that have it all, but still long for something else. After the novelty of the latest toy wears off, a child longs for the attention and love of a father and mother. Yes, material things can stimulate us, but sustaining us is another matter.

        Dominican theologian, Padre Gustavo Gutierrez speaks about how suffering is not the same as sadness. That even in the direst situations of poverty, especially where he served in his native Peru, joy can be found. Even in the midst of death, or people dying slowly from poverty and disease, the God of life can be encountered and celebrated. Even in the midst of material wealth and living large, comfortable lives, people are dying a slow spiritual death. Why?  How?  Joy and abundance can be found and lived when we know and trust the One who gives life and we are grateful for the gift …. and the giver.


Monday, April 28, 2014

2nd Sunday of Easter Homily



II Sunday of Easter / Divine Mercy Sunday (April 27, 2014)
Gospel reading: John 20: 19-31


Years ago, one of my spiritual mentors, Fr. Art Kinsella, O.P. used to say, “Sometimes to keep a friendship, you have to blaze a trail to your friend’s door.”  Friendships cannot be forced, but they need to be maintained. Friends need to be cared for.  Jesus knows that quite well.

To return, Jesus – the Risen Lord – had to cut a path, blaze a trail to the door, the door where the disciples were in hiding.

The first order of business of Jesus’ return was not to convince the disciples and us of him being raised from the dead, but to bring peace: reconciliation and healing with the Risen One. 

My former professor, Fr. Robert Barron writes, “The risen Christ returned to those who had denied and betrayed and run from him – and responded not with answering violence, but with a word of grace and forgiveness.”

His wounds were not incidental to that.  Recalling the prophet Isaiah, St. Peter writes in his first letter, “By his wounds you have been healed (1 Peter 2: 24b).”  At the same time, they were the visible signs of what he suffered now transformed into living signs of his fidelity. 

Even though humanity had no reason to treat Jesus like he was treated, he came back to show that there was a reason why he did what he did, why he does what he does. 

Saint Padre Alberto Hurtado, a Jesuit priest from Chile, writes: “Jesus descended from heaven to earth to look for the only thing that could not be found in heaven: suffering – the consequence of sin; and he took it up without limits out of love for humanity.  …..He took on suffering in his soul, in his imagination, in his heart, in his spirit and in his body …..”

Some might look upon the Lord’s passion and resurrection and wonder what it’s all about.  However, before we can truly believe, we must be forgiven, reconciled …reconciled with Jesus who seeks to blaze a trail to each and every heart, reconciled with him who seeks to unite his wounds with ours. 

Jesus knows that he has to cut through the weeds and brush in our minds and hearts, where fear becomes overgrown, in order to rescue the friendship with us he had worked so hard to make firm. 

Jesus is not ashamed of his wounds.  Why?  For one, he’s not ashamed of us.  

Easter Vigil 2014 Homily



Easter Vigil 2014
Primary readings: Romans 6: 3-11 / Matthew 28: 1-10


Good Friday in Guayaquil, Ecuador was usually the heaviest work-day for us Dominicans at the Iglesia Santo Domingo de Guzman.  The day kicked with the Via Crucis, or Way of the Cross, up the winding street that snaked all over the big hill of Cerro del Carmen, with its expansive myriad of houses. 
                                                         
Our procession attracted a crowd, perhaps nearly 300 people walking along and many more watching from their front porches.   However, the big Via Crucis was in the southern part of the city, where thousands would make the pilgrimage –like procession every Good Friday. 

I always felt that there was too much emphasis on Good Friday, since by the time the Easter Vigil and Easter Sunday came around, much, much smaller crowds would gather.  Many have studied the cultural and religious differences between our culture and theirs, but when you are in the thick of it, you see how it goes much deeper than intellectual analysis.  Did they focus too much on death and suffering, too much on the Passion of Christ and less on his Resurrection?

Shifting the focus, do we in the U.S. focus too little on the Passion of Christ and his death and too much on Resurrection?  There is little doubt, though, that one without the other makes little sense. 

In the Easter Vigil liturgy, nine primary texts from Sacred Scripture are proclaimed that range from the primordial origins of our humanity to the full flowering of our faith.  The readings speak of hope and promise.  However, they speak so loudly and eloquently because they all form a rousing chorus of life in the midst of death, of light shining forth in the darkness.

Notice the unflinching spirit of St. Paul in the reading from his letter to the Romans as he addresses head-on the reality of death:  “Are you unaware that we who were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death?”  No mincing words there.  But, as he makes so clear, death is a back-drop that is there, but in Him who is life, we have the strength to overcome it.  “We were indeed buried with him through baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might live in newness of life.” 

As I reflect on my father’s recent passing, I realize that in him, I saw death up close and personal. Still, beyond the sadness and bonds of affection, I will always be able to recognize how my father’s spirit seemed drawn to something that was beyond him and us. His final breaths had a purpose, but they ceased to be necessary.  Something or more truly, someone was at work beckoning him …. and us.  Life will prevail and in ways we might barely understand, but fully hope. 

Mary Magdalene and the other Mary ran with haste to the tomb of Jesus.  We can imagine their quick and sure steps were a way of shaking off any attacks of nervousness and doubt.  They were determined; they sensed, against all the physical evidence, that in Jesus, life could not be stifled.   

Were they afraid?  Absolutely.  Were they faithful to Christ even after death?  No question.   Death surrounded them, but they pressed on. 

They had seen love and life himself die on the cross and laid in the tomb.  They also sensed that love and life will never pass. Filled with an incredible array of human emotions they ran to the tomb, but those feelings were not the force that got them there.  The Lord promised, they trusted.

   Tulane Catholic Center 2014 Cookout, Benson Plaza, Tulane University