"IT IS I, DO NOT BE AFRAID."

Homily for May 4^th, 2019: John 6:16-21.

          What began as a routine evening crossing of the lake soon turns into a nightmare for Jesus’ friends in their small boat. When they see a human figure approaching across the storm-tossed waves it is small wonder that they “began to be afraid.” It is Jesus. “It is I,” he calls out. “Do not be afraid!”

Like most people in antiquity, Jesus’ people, the Jews, regarded the sea as the domain of supernatural, demonic forces. To the Hebrew mind wind and waves were perilous: only God could master them. Repeatedly the psalms speak of God’s power to “rule the surging sea and calm the turmoil of its waves” (Ps. 89:10; cf. 93:3f; 107:23-30). By walking on the raging waves, and calming the stormy sea, Jesus shows himself to be acting as only God can do.

          This beautiful story speaks to each one of us individually. Somewhere in this church right now there may be someone facing a personal crisis: an illness, perhaps, your own or that of a loved one; a family problem; a humiliating failure; the sudden collapse of long held hopes, plans, and efforts. You are filled with fear. When you look down, you see only peril and ruin. But look up! Keep your eyes on Jesus. He still has power to save. 

          The story assures us that when the storm rages and the night is blackest; when we cannot see the way ahead; when we are bone weary with life’s struggle and our hearts fail us for fear, Jesus is close. He only seems to be absent. In reality he is never far from us. He knows at every moment the difficulties against which we contend. Across the storm waters of this world he comes to us and speaks the same words of assurance that he spoke to the terrified men in that small boat: “It is I, do not be afraid!”

That, friends, is the gospel. That is the good news.           

 

"LAST HE WAS SEEN BY ME."

Homily for May 3^rd, 2019: 1 Cor. 15:1-8.

          “Last of all, he was seen by me, as one born out of due time,” Paul writes at the end of today’s first reading for feast of the Apostles Philip and James. To have personally seen the risen Lord was one of the original qualifications for the office of apostle. In just eleven days, on the feast of the apostle Matthias, chosen to replace the traitor Judas, we will hear Peter saying that the one chosen to fill out the number of twelve apostles must be “one of those who was of our company when the Lord Jesus moved among us, from the baptism of John until the day he was taken up from us.” Only such a person, Peter said, was qualified to be a “witness with us to the resurrection” (cf. Acts 1:21f).

          The eleven remaining apostles chose two men who fitted the requirements stated by Peter. By casting lots between them, they left the choice of the substitute apostle to God. They did everything correctly. Yet God seems to have had other plans. For after the day of his naming as an apostle, Matthias disappears into obscurity, and we hear nothing more of him.

          The man about whom we hear a great deal is the zealous defender of his Jewish faith, Saul, given the name Paul in baptism following his dramatic conversion to faith in Jesus Christ in the encounter with him outside Damascus.

From that day on Paul insisted that on that day he had seen the risen Lord. For after listing the other resurrection appearances – the one to “five hundred brothers at once,” and to the apostle James, known to us only from this passage – Paul says: “Last of all he was seen by me, as one born out of the normal course.” This qualified him, Paul always insisted, to be a “witness to the risen Lord,” and as such an apostle.   

Paul’s story is fascinating – another example of God disclosing himself, as he does over and again in Holy Scripture, as the God of surprises -- indeed the God of the humanly impossible.

"GOD SO LOVED THE WORLD . . ."

Homily for May 1^st, 2019: John 3:16-21.

          “God so loved he world …” we just heard. Perhaps someone is thinking: “But of course. Isn’t that obvious?” To many people it is not obvious. Christians who in past centuries used to be called Puritans consider the world an evil place, from which Jesus’ disciples must flee. This view is still alive and well today in certain quarters. It has a kernel of truth. The world organized apart from God, and against God is evil. Jesus refers to that world when he says, later in John’s gospel: “In the world you will have tribulation. But be of good cheer; I have overcome the world” (16:33). In today’s gospel, however, Jesus is speaking of the world in a good sense: not the world of human marring, but the good world of God’s making. That world must be lovable, for it comes from God; and God does not make anything that is not good.

          “God so loved the world,” Jesus goes on, “that he gave his only begotten Son.” He was the most that God had to give or could give. And God’s Son came into our world, and continues with us through the power of his Holy Spirit, not as some kind of great policeman or scold to frighten us into measuring up to his unrealistically high standards. No. Jesus came, and remains with us, “so that the world might be saved through him.” How?

          As we read on in today’s gospel we discover the answer. We are saved “by believing in him,” Jesus Christ. To believe in someone is to trust that person -- more, to entrust ourselves to him or her. Whoever does that, our gospel tells us, lives not in darkness, but in light – the light that shines from the face of Jesus Christ. How dark our world would be had he never come to us!

          We pray in this Mass, therefore, that we may entrust ourselves ever more completely to Jesus, himself the light of the world; and that we ourselves may be lenses or prisms of his light in a dark and often fearful world.

         

         

PETER'S CALL -- AND OURS

May 5^th,  2019: Third Sunday of Easter, Year C. John 21:1-19

AIM: To instill hope by showing the greatness of Peter=s vocation, despite his weakness.

AHave you caught anything?@ Jesus calls out from the shore at dawn to his friends in their boat, weary from a night of unsuccessful fishing. What he really said was: AYou haven=t caught anything, have you?@ Jesus was having fun with them. In addition to the fun of surprising them by appearing at all, he was poking fun at their lack of success in the one thing they were supposed to be good at: catching fish. Not once in the gospels is there any record of Peter and his friends catching a single fish without Jesus= help. Here that help consists in the suggestion that they try again. As soon as they do, they feel the net heavy with fish. One of those in the boat tells Peter: AIt is the Lord.@ It is the unnamed Adisciple whom Jesus loved,@ as he is called in this gospel according to John. Peter and the others hurry ashore and find a charcoal fire with fish on it, and bread. What a beautiful human touch that is.  Knowing that they would be hungry after their long night=s labor, Jesus has made breakfast for them.

Did Peter recall another charcoal fire, not at daybreak but at night, in the courtyard of the High Priest=s house at Jerusalem, where Peter stood warming himself? We cannot know. It is clear, however, that he was soon remembering what he had done at that other charcoal fire. Jesus= thrice repeated question, ADo you love me?@ reminded Peter all too vividly of how he had done what Jesus had warned him, only hours before, that he would do C and what Peter had immediately boasted he would never do. Three times Peter had denied that he even knew his Master, even as Jesus was on trial for his life in a nearby room.

APeter was distressed,@ we heard in the gospel, because Jesus asked his question a third time. Of course he was distressed! The memory of that three-fold denial was painful. Peter=s thrice repeated assurance of love is his rehabilitation. In response to each pledge of love, Jesus assigns Peter responsibility: to feed Jesus= sheep. It is noteworthy, however, that the flock entrusted to Peter=s care remains the Lord=s: Amy lambs ... my sheep.@ Jesus himself is Athe chief shepherd,@ as we read in the First Letter of Peter (5:4).   

Why did Jesus give this responsibility to Peter, of all people? It cannot have been because Peter loved Jesus most. There was another present at that lakeside breakfast who clearly loved Jesus more; who never deserted him; who, alone of all Jesus= male disciples, stood by his cross as he died. If love were the basis for the office of chief shepherd after the Lord himself, the office would have gone to Athe disciple whom Jesus loved.@ 

Jesus gave the office of leader to the friend whose love was imperfect; whose impetuosity and weakness made the name Jesus gave him C Peter, the rock C as ironic as calling a 350-pound heavyweight ATiny.@ As long as Peter thought that he was strong; as long as he could boast that though all others might desert Jesus, he would remain faithful, Peter was not ready for leadership. For that Peter had to experience his weakness. He had to become convinced that without a power greater than his own, he could do nothing.

Part of that process was discovering that he could not even catch a fish without Jesus= help. Peter had to learn his weakness through the humiliation of failure: failure at fishing; failure in the face of Jesus= clear warning, failure despite his boast that he, at least, would never fail. And it was to this weak man, this boaster, that Jesus entrusted the care of his church.

There is a famous painting which some of you have surely seen. It shows a man being crucified upside down. It is Peter. Here is the story behind the picture. At the end of his life, Peter was in Rome, where Christians were persecuted because they refused to pledge allegiance to the Roman emperor. Peter was arrested and condemned to death by crucifixion.

Shortly before the date fixed for his death Peter managed to escape. As he walked out of the city, under cover of darkness, he encountered a familiar figure walking toward him. It was Jesus. “Where are you going, Lord?” Peter asked.

“I’m going to Rome, Peter, to be crucified again, for you.”

Mortified and ashamed, Peter turned around and went back into the city. When they came to crucify him the next morning, Peter told the executioner that he was not worthy to die as his Lord had died. The executioner obliged him by nailing him to the cross upside down. Outside Rome today there is church with a name that recalls this story. It is the Church of Quo Vadis: two Latin words which mean “Where are you going?”

Is that story history – or legend? There is no need to answer that question. The story tells us that to the end Peter remained weak – but that he truly loved the Lord despite this weakness.      

Is there someone in this church today who feels weak? You have made so many good resolutions. Some you have kept. Many you have not. You have high ideals. Yet time and again you have compromised. You had so many dreams, hopes, plans. How many have you achieved? You wanted so much. You have settled for so little. If that is your story, you have a friend in heaven. His name is Simon Peter. 

If Peter=s story is yours C boasting followed by humiliating failure; impetuosity and then indecisiveness; pledges of loyalty no matter what, and then swift betrayal C if you see any of that in your life, or even all of that, then Jesus has a task for you. He is saying to you, as he said to Peter: AFollow me.@

If, like Peter, you have discovered that you are weak, that command is reassuring. Jesus does not ask you to be strong, for he knows your weakness. He does not ask you to be a pioneer or a leader. He knows that is too hard: that you would soon lose your way C or at least your nerve. He asks one thing alone. He asks you to follow him.

Speaking a few years ago in Rome about Peter, Pope Benedict XVI, now retired, said that we often think of Peter as weak before the resurrection, but afterwards B especially after the gift of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost B as strong. The reality, the Pope said, is more complex. Despite the strengthening gift of the Holy Spirit, first given to Peter and the other disciples of Jesus at Pentecost, Peter retained to the end of his life something of his old weakness, the Pope said. Though remaining faithful to the Lord who had called him was sometimes easy for Peter, there were also times when it was horribly difficult.   

For us too following Jesus Christ is not always easy, for he leads often through difficult ways. If you know your weakness, however, you have an advantage over those who still think they are strong. Then you will trust, as you try to follow your Master and Lord, not in any strength of your own, but only and always in the strength of Jesus Christ. His strength is always reliable; and it is always available. We have only to ask Jesus, and his strength there.  

THE SPIRIT BLOWS US HOME

Homily for April 30^th, 2019: John 3:7-15.

          In yesterday’s gospel reading we heard Jesus telling Nicodemus that he must be “born again.” How was that possible, Nicodemus asked? How could someone enter again into this mother’s womb and be born anew? Jesus explained that he was talking, not about biological birth, but about birth “from above” – heavenly birth, through water and the spirit. We understand (though Nicodemus did not) that Jesus was talking about baptism. 

          In today’s gospel Jesus expands on the theme of spirit. In Greek, the language of the New Testament, the word for spirit is pneuma. In English medical terms are almost all from Greek roots; so we find pneuma in the name for a sickness of the lungs: pneumonia. In antiquity pneuma designated both a wind and a person’s breath. That is why the gospels speak about Jesus giving up his spirit when he died. His breath went out of him.

          Using the same word, Jesus speaks also about the winds of the air. In antiquity people believed that the winds came from God. Winds were, they thought, God’s breath. The winds we hear and feel blow from different directions. We hear the sound the wind makes, Jesus tells Nicodemus, but we do not know where it comes from or where it goes.

Then comes a crucial sentence: “So it is with everyone born of the Spirit.” We are born of the spirit in baptism and in confirmation. At Pentecost we hear about the Spirit of God coming dramatically, like a strong driving wind. That we are Christians in a land undreamed of by anyone in Jerusalem on that first Pentecost day is proof that the Spirit=s Astrong driving wind@ did not blow in vain. Those first touched by that wind were blown into places, and situations, they never dreamed of.  Even those who never left Jerusalem found their lives utterly changed.

This same wind of the Spirit is blowing in the Church today. Is it blowing in your life? Or are you afraid of that wind B of what it might do to you, and where it might blow you? Cast aide fear. The wind of God=s Spirit, like the winds of the sky, blows from different directions. But in the end this wind blows all who are driven by it to the same place. The wind of God Spirit blows us home B home to God.   

"YOU MUST BE BEGOTTEN OF WATER & THE SPIRIT."

Homily for April 29^th, 2019: John 3:1-8.

          Most of those who responded to Jesus’ teaching by coming to believe in him were “little people,” as the world reckons such things. In today’s gospel we meet an exception. Nicodemus was member of the Sanhedrin, the elite 70-man Jewish ruling body that went back to Moses. He comes to Jesus at night. He doesn’t want his fellow Sanhedrin members, almost all of whom are either hostile to Jesus, or indifferent, to know about his visit. The night visit my also have a symbolic meaning. John’s gospel is rich in symbolism. Nicodemus is coming from the darkness of disbelief, or at least of weak belief, to the One who is the light of the world.

There was similar symbolism in the gospel for Tuesday in Holy Week, also by John. After Judas leaves the Upper Room where Jesus was celebrating his Last Supper with the twelve apostles, John tells us: “And it was night.” For Jesus, however, it was not night. “Now is the Son of Man glorified,” he cried out when Judas had left, “and God is glorified in him.”

Nicodemus has been impressed by Jesus’ miracles – which ones we are not told. Calling Jesus “Rabbi,” Nicodemus says: “We know you are a teacher come from God, for no man can perform signs and wonders such as you perform unless God is with him.” This stops far short of acknowledgement that Jesus is the Messiah. There were other holy rabbis who performed signs and wonders. 

This explains Jesus’ less than enthusiastic response. You cannot see God’s kingdom, he tells Nicodemus, unless you are “begotten from above,” in other words, “born of God as your Father.” A father “begets” the child whom a mother “bears.” Jesus’ meaning becomes clear only when he says: “No one can enter God’s kingdom without being begotten of water and the Spirit.”

That is what happened to each of us when we were baptized. Through the Holy Spirit, and the pouring of water, God our Father made us his children, brothers and sisters of his divine Son, Jesus, and heirs of the kingdom of heaven. That is our eternal destiny. And the only thing can prevent the fulfillment of this destiny is our own deliberate and final No.