“TODAY YOU WILL BE WITH ME IN PARADISE.”
What a joy to be invited back, some 30
years later, to the parish where I spent two happy years! I left for lighter
duties, when my cancerous prostate was removed. Through the wonderful goodness
of God, I am still here, as you see. I praise and thank Him for all his
goodness to me. And I thank your fine Pastor for his wonderful and totally
unexpected invitation.
Over a half-century ago it was common on Good Friday to
celebrate a three hours long preaching liturgy, called by cynics the “Three
Hours Agony,” with sermons on Jesus’ Seven Last Words from the Cross.
Attendance for all three hours, noon to three, was not expected, save for the
especially devout. After each sermon or homily there was a hymn and a prayer,
giving people an opportunity to come and go as they wished. I preached those
sermons myself over sixty years ago, spending the whole of Lent preparing the
homilies. I found it time well spent, I assure you. At the conclusion of the
seventh homily, punctually at three in the afternoon, the church bell rang,
slowly and reverently, 33 times, for the years of Jesus’ earthly life. I always
found that deeply moving.
I have been invited to speak to you this evening about
Jesus’ second word. Let me read it to you. “One of the criminals hanging in
crucifixion blasphemed him, saying: ‘Aren’t you the Messiah? Then save yourself
and us.’ But the other rebuked him. ‘Have you no fear of God, seeing you are
under the same sentence? We are only paying the price for what we’ve done, but
this man has done nothing wrong.’ He then said: ‘Remember me when you come into
your kingdom. And Jesus replied, ‘I assure you: this day you will be with me
in paradise.’”
What clearer example could we have of a central truth about
our Lord and Savior: that he is the man of total love. Friends, that is the
heart of the gospel: that Jesus does not wait to love us for some proof that we
deserve his love. Do parents wait to see how their children turn out
before loving them? Of course not! Dear friends of mine, a couple from China
and not even baptized, but very good people, told me, when they were expecting
their first child: “We talk to the baby.”
“What
do you tell the little one?” I asked. “Oh,” they said, “We tell her everything
we did that day. We also play beautiful music for her,” they said: “Mozart and piano
music by Chopin.” I was with them an hour after that child’s birth. The
atmosphere of overflowing love moved me deeply. That girl is in high school
now. Sometime in the next 10 to 15 years a young man is going to ask her to
marry him. He’ll discover that he’s found a truly wonderful wife and mother,
because of the love and beauty with which she has been surrounded, starting even
before her birth.
The
good news of the gospel is this: our lives are not an uphill struggle to earn
God’s love, or prove that we deserve his love. No. God loves us
already, even before we are born, because we are His. All our efforts to
measure up, to show that we are worthy of the Lord’s love for us, are attempts
to thank God for the gift of his love.
Jesus’
words to the criminal hanging beside him, assuring him that his salvation is
assured, are yet another proof that Jesus is before all else a Giver. What
about yourself? Are you a Giver; or are you a Taker? If you’re a Taker, I
promise you one thing. You will always be frustrated, disappointed and bitter.
Because you’ll never get enough. It is only the Givers in life who are happy.
“Give, and it shall be given to you,” Jesus says in Luke’s version of the
Sermon on the Mount. “Good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running
over, will they pour into the fold of your garment. For the measure you measure
with will be measured back to you.” (Lk 6:38) And we find the same thing in the
only saying of Jesus reported outside the four gospels: “There is more
happiness in giving than in receiving.”
(Acts 20:35).
I
started with a story: Jesus’ encounter with the man hanging next to him on the
cross. Let me close with another story.
A
cardinal was visiting a community of Carmelite nuns in Italy. After celebrating Mass for them, he asked the
Mother Superior if he could see how they lived. Carmelite nuns are enclosed.
They don’t leave the cloister. And visitors talk to them through a grille. The
cardinal’s request violated their rule. But when a cardinal asks, you don’t say
No. So, the Prioress asked one of the nuns to show him round.
They
visited the refectory, where the nuns sit on wooden benches without backs to
eat their simple meals off bare wooden tables. The cardinal saw one of the
cells where they sleep: a small room furnished with a narrow bed, a table to
serve as a desk, and a hard-wooden chair; a single light bulb overhead and a
gooseneck lamp on the table. Instead of a basin with running water there was a
large washbowl on a stand, and on the floor next to it a large crockery jug.
The nun explained that water was brought from the bathroom down the hall.
At the
end of the short tour the nun, led the cardinal up a narrow stairway to the flat
terraced roof above, furnished with benches and a railing all round. “On feast days like Easter and Pentecost,”
she explained, “we can come up here, if the weather is fine, for our recreation
period.” The view was beautiful. Across a valley they could see a magnificent
villa surrounded by formal gardens and several fountains. It was summer. A
gardener was cutting one of the hedges. Children were frolicking in the
swimming pool. A couple were playing tennis on one of the two courts.
The
cardinal turned to the nun who was showing him round. “How long have you been
here in Carmel, Sister?” he asked her.
“I
entered twenty years ago next Easter,” she responded.
“Sister,”
he said, “if the young man of that house had asked you twenty-one years ago to
come and live there with him there as his wife, do you think you would be here
today?”
“Your Eminence,” she replied. “That was my house. That’s where I grew up.”
“Your Eminence,” she replied. “That was my house. That’s where I grew up.”
Why?
Why would a young woman give up all that luxury and all that beauty? I think if
we could have asked her, or hundreds like her clear round the world, she would
have said something like this: “I wanted to be with Jesus.”
Somewhere
in this church right now there is a young woman whom God is calling to be a
religious Sister. Somewhere there is a young man whom God wants to be a priest.
Let me speak very personally to you.
Jesus
is offering you something he offers to only a few, something precious beyond
words. He is offering you a life that will sometimes be hard, but which will be
filled with meaning and filled above all with joy. How do I know that? Because
eighty years ago Jesus made that offer to me. He called me when I was just
twelve years old by placing in my heart and mind the desire to be a priest.
Since then I have never wanted anything else.
Thirteen years later I fulfilled that desire. That was almost sixty-six
years ago. And I’ve never regretted it, not one single day.
And, I
say to you, whoever you may be, whatever your age, whatever your circumstances:
When Jesus calls you, go for it! And one day you too will be able to say what I
say to you right now: What a wonderful life! There have been difficult times,
of course, as in every life, marriage included. But I have never regretted my
decision for priesthood: not one single day.
Is God’s call just for religious
professionals, priests and nuns? Don’t you believe b it! While you were still in
your mother’s womb, God already had a plan for your life. H He calls each one of
us, as he called the man hanging next to Jesus on a cross. He
calls us to walk with him, to be so full of his love that others will see the joy on our
faces and want what we have. Christianity, it has been said, cannot be taught. It must
be caught.
calls us to walk with him, to be so full of his love that others will see the joy on our
faces and want what we have. Christianity, it has been said, cannot be taught. It must
be caught.
“I could never do that,” you’re
thinking? You’re wrong! Here is a list of some of the
great people in the Bible. Every one of them had a reason for thinking God could not
use them. So, the next time you feel like God can’t use you, remember:
great people in the Bible. Every one of them had a reason for thinking God could not
use them. So, the next time you feel like God can’t use you, remember:
Noah
was a drunk. Abraham was too old. Isaac was a daydreamer. Jacob was a liar. Leah was ugly. Joseph was
abused by his brothers. Moses had a stuttering problem. Gideon was afraid.
Sampson had long hair and was a womanizer. Rahab was a prostitute. Jeremiah and
Timothy thought they were too young. David had an affair and was a murderer.
Elijah was suicidal. Isaiah thought himself unworthy. Jonah ran away from God’s
call. Naomi was a widow. Job went bankrupt. Martha was a perpetual worrier. The
Samaritan woman who spoke with Jesus at the well was five times divorced.
Zacchaeus was too small. Peter denied Christ. The disciples fell asleep while
praying. At Jesus’ arrest, they all
forsook him and fled. Paul was too religious. Timothy had an ulcer. And Lazarus
was dead!
So,
what’s your excuse? Whatever it may be, God can still use you to your full
potential. Besides, you aren’t the message. You’re only the messenger.
When
you were born, you were crying, and everyone around you was smiling. Start
today (if you haven’t started already) living your life so that when you die,
you’re the only one smiling, and everyone around you is crying.
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